Screen 1

ONE:
KAYA and SABRE sitting opposite one another. Neither speaking. KAYA still holds the Tube. SABRE is looking annoyed. KAYA still has the complacent smile of before.

1. SFX/off: KRNNCH

TWO:
Stet.

KAYA is frowning, now.

SABRE is smiling.

2. SFX/off: HNFFF!
3. SFX/off: KRAK
4. SFX/off: UFFF!

5. TROOP/off: Look out—

THREE:
Angle in the back room, as one of the TROOPS comes flying through the CURTAIN, having been hurled such by Westfield, outside.

NO COPY.

Screen 2

ONE:
Angle, SABRE and KAYA, as before. The TROOP has landed akimbo, nearly knocking over the PIPE APPARATUS.

KAYA is looking somewhat guilty.

1. TROOP/off/wobble: *groan*

TWO:
Looking at SABRE, as WESTFIELD sticks his head into the room, behind her.

SABRE is staring at Kaya, off – past us, I imagine – the same smile, but with a touch more steel to it.

2. WESTFIELD: That’d be the last of them. More of them
before long, I suspect.

3. SABRE: Then perhaps the witch might wish to
stop wasting our time.

THREE:
On KAYA. Guilty, and now trying to figure out how to navigate out of this very awkward situation.

4. KAYA: Yes.
5. KAYA: Well.
6. KAYA: You make a fine argument, m’Lady.