ROGUES: Best Served Cold - Episode 10 (Patreon)

NORA'S HEALTH: 100%

[SCRIPT]

BRAINIAC: THE ANSWER.

EDWARD yawns.

EDWARD: Hmm? Oh - sound! Sorry, you gave me so much time, I thought I’d rest my eyes a little bit. Long drive, stoic companion, all that jazz.

BRAINIAC: ANSWER IS -

EDWARD: Correct. Kelvin? Enter code Fries Omicron 1-9-4-6.

KELVIN: CODE ACCEPTED.

EDWARD: I can only hope the good doctor is faring as well as I am.

ELSEWHERE - COLERIDGE can be heard in the distance.

LEONARD: COME NOW, VICTOR - YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER! COME OUT AND FACE YOUR DEATH WITH SOME DIGNITY!

FRIES falls out from behind a wall; noises indicate his suit is badly damaged.

LEONARD: I WILL HAVE MY SATISFACTION, VICTOR!

VICTOR: Edward. Update.

EDWARD: We’re green across the board, Iceman, just the way I like it. Except… Jesus, Victor, your suit is showing critical… everything. Did you get tackled by a polar bear?

VICTOR: I fear things are not boding as well as I should like. Coleridge’s arsenal is far more powerful than my own.

EDWARD: Sounds like you brought a knife to a gunfight.

VICTOR: Edward. When you thaw Nora, I want you to tell her -

EDWARD: Oh, no no no.

VICTOR: I want you to tell her I tried. I tried everything in my power to bring us back together again. I laughed in the faces of the gods and moved mountains, but it wasn’t enough. She must know that I gave all that I was to bring her back.

SARCASTIC SLOW CLAP.

EDWARD: Well gosh, Victor. I don’t know if that would win you the Oscar, but it would certainly get you a nomination if no one else died that year. Now it’s my turn to talk. Ready?

VICTOR: …

EDWARD: Good. Now - you’re outgunned, outmatched, and while you’re not outclassed, you are certainly up against it. You have a wife who, unless I somehow fuck up royally, is one thawing cycle away from the ol’ happily ever after. So, I’m going to help you out because I am… well, I am just incredible.

VICTOR: I don’t see what you could possibly do.

EDWARD: I don’t know how much you know about my past, but my father was an asshole. Well - rephrase, is an asshole, until I get the good news. But he did teach me one useful thing: if someone starts a fight, you end it. It doesn’t have to be pretty, it doesn’t even have to be fair. If you can end it with a kick to the balls, then you end it with a kick to the balls. So Leonard’s packing more heat than you, colloquially speaking? Then we take it away from him.

VICTOR: How?

EDWARD: He’s a proud man with a tragic past and a massive hatred for you. I’m sure if he had the chance, he would rip your heart out with his bare hands.

VICTOR: A comforting thought, Edward.

EDWARD: My point is - let him. Get him in close, take a few punches, and then, before he realises how much guard he’s let down, you end that son of a bitch.

VICTOR: You are far more sinister than your exterior would have people believe.

EDWARD: Sometimes you need more than brains to make it to the top. So, do you think you can play dirty, Victor? Are you ready to win?

VICTOR: We shall see.

ELSEWHERE - COLERIDGE is singing to himself.

LEONARD: Where are you Victor… it’s time to diiieeee…

VICTOR: Coleridge!

LEONARD: Ahh, he emerges. My satisfaction is at hand.

VICTOR: Yes, as it has had to be these last thirty years.

EDWARD chokes on his drink.

EDWARD: HA!

LEONARD: I beg your pardon?

VICTOR: Not that satisfaction has ever been your strong suit. Well, at least according to Helena.

LEONARD: I… I…

VICTOR: I remember at the Cryogenics Symposium in Metropolis, she told Nora once that it was like… what was the phrase… pushing rope?

LEONARD: You don’t speak about her like that!

VICTOR: Or what? What will you do? Shoot me like a coward? Why don’t you just admit that if you had loved her more, she would still be alive today?

LEONARD: GRYAGH!

COLERIDGE and FRIES fight.

LEONARD: I’ll tear you to pieces, you bastard!

EDWARD: Well, you certainly got him close, Victor. You’ll forgive the pun, but that was cold. Got a plan?

VICTOR: Yes.

FRIES returns a punch and grabs COLERIDGE.

VICTOR: You seem heated, Leonard. Perhaps you should cool off.

FRIES blasts COLERIDGE’s legs to the ground; COLERIDGE strains to free himself.

VICTOR: And without your gun, too. Whatever will you do?

LEONARD: What do you plan to do? Freeze me to death? My suit can withstand absolute zero! Face it old friend, you’re just not cold enough.

FRIES blasts COLERIDGE’s arms.

VICTOR: You’re correct, Leonard. It would seem that when it comes to degrees, I’ll have to rely on the ones on my walls and not in my hands, so consider this a free lesson. The current temperature is - 110 Fahrenheit. But at only 32 Fahrenheit, liquid molecules slow, eventually hooking into one another, forming a solid crystal. Ice.

LEONARD: Is your plan to bore me to death, Victor?

VICTOR: One of the more interesting and beautiful effects of colder temperature is the formation of ice stalactites, or icicles for the layman. Not to be mistaken for the brinicle, which forms under sea ice. Let’s create one, shall we?
Ice sounds.

VICTOR: Glorious. It’s always incredible that nature can create something so beautiful, is it not?

COLERIDGE struggling.

VICTOR: But, as a conversation between myself and Dr. Pamela Isley revealed…
Ice breaking.

VICTOR: The most beautiful things in nature are often the most deadly.

EDWARD: Wait! Victor!

FRIES stabs Leonard though the chest with a massive icicle.

EDWARD: The portal, Victor - we need to know how to shut it off!

VICTOR: How do we stop the portal, Coleridge? Spend your final moments on
this Earth doing the right thing, for once.

COLERIDGE spits blood.

LEONARD: Hahhahah… hahhaha… oh Victor… would I have volunteered if there was any way to stop this? Enjoy your… frozen… tomb. Hahhahah - argbhle…

COLERIDGE expires.

EDWARD: Well. Fuck. Oh well, one thing at a time. Head on back - maybe Nora will have an idea on how to close this up.

FRIES collapses.

EDWARD: Victor?

BRAINIAC: YOUR NEXT RIDDLE. MODULATING.

EDWARD: Oh, right. You’re still here.

[YOU HAVE SEEN ENOUGH.]

BRAINIAC: YOU HAVE -

EDWARD: Yeah yeah yeah - one hour.