ROGUES | S01E17: The Knight Shift (Patreon)

ROGUES | S01E17: The Knight Shift
with Heather Wetherald as Barbara Gordon

DIGGER: Mind you, you can get that on the Gold Coast. You ask a Darwin bird for something like that, she’ll put you away faster than Abo in a -

SLADE: George. I’m gonna say this one more time. Shut. The Fuck. Up. 

DIGGER: Seems like a hell of a long way back to Gotham.

SLADE: (sighs) She asked if I wanted to go alone. And I said no.

DIGGER: Christ alive mate, I’m just sayin’ they’re not exactly taking the quickest way home. Do you reckon they got wise?

SLADE: No, Ed woulda called in his cavalry. 

DIGGER: Phwoar, wish he would. I’m drier than a dead dingo’s donger. 

SLADE: Jesus Christ.

DIGGER: What? Like you wouldn’t.

SLADE: That ain’t the point, son. My point is, if Ed sicced those two on me, my first thought wouldn’t be to take my cock out. Animal magnetism might not be enough to stop your ass gettin’ whooped.

DIGGER: Even an arse kickin’ would be a win for the Cap’n.

SLADE: What even are you?

DIGGER: One of a kind.

SLADE: God, I hope so. Now shut it - we’re close.

DIGGER: So what’s the plan, Blinky?

SLADE: This is the only point of entry. We breach together; I’ll take Crane, you take Nygma.

DIGGER: Oh, wow. Thanks for the slow ball.

SLADE: Eh?

DIGGER: “You take Nygma”. What you want me to do after that - take the training wheels off my bike?

SLADE: (chuckles) 

DIGGER: Well I’m glad you’re so fuckin’ amused.

SLADE: If you think you got one up on Ed, you’ve already lost. Sure, he ain’t droppin’ on D-Day, but he’s clever. Damn clever. And he plays to win. Don’t you ever underestimate your opponent. Especially if it’s Edward Nygma.

DIGGER: Jeez-o, just give him a gobby, why don’t ya? Fine. Let’s just do this.

SLADE: (sighs) On three. One - two - 

DIGGER: Wait, wait, wait. On three, or three-ugh?

SLADE: (groans) One. Two. Three.

(they crash the door down)

DIGGER: Clear!

SLADE: Clear! … Now where the hell…

DIGGER: They couldn’t’ve… 

(door closes)

WAYLON: Looks like you boys are a little lost.

(impact noises)

ELSEWHERE… 

(Gotham city noises)

JASON: Man, I need a bucket of coffee. Two buckets. Super hot. Just attach ‘em to my head with one of those helmets. 

DICK: You know we could just get some sleep.

JASON: Got shit to do; you get some sleep.

DICK:  I sleep.

JASON: Yeah, sure you do. When was the last time?

DICK: (embarrassed cough) Uh.. well…

JASON: (snickers) Let me guess. Your last sleep was in Canada, right?

DICK: Shut up, you. You’re putting me off. 

JASON: Never! I’m your best hope at staying awake. 

DICK: What about staying alive?

JASON: You saying you need me?

DICK: I don’t like that look on your face.

JASON: Dick needs me. I’mma get that tattooed on my ass.

DICK: No...

JASON: Then whenever you get all British and uppity on me - BOOM. Dr. Cheeks.

DICK: Ugh. 

JASON: So about every five minutes. Lucky you!

DICK: I didn’t need to imagine that.

JASON: Dude. Don’t make it weird.

DICK: But - you - I - ugh.

BARBARA: Boo!

DICK AND JASON: (surprised) Jesus!

BARBARA: (laughs) Fearless crime fighters in action. Ready for anything, right?

JASON: I actually heard you comin’. That’s why you’re not dead right now. 

BARBARA: Sure, sure. I’m amazed you heard anything over your stellar ass talk.

JASON: Oh, it is stellar, thank you. Don’t pretend you weren’t checking it out when you were sneaking up on us, like a… sneaky asshole.

BARBARA: Ohh, you weren’t talking about your ass, you were talking out of it.

JASON: Hey, you survived this time, Barbie. But next time? I can’t promise your safety. 

BARBARA: Don’t call me that. (playful) Who’s your cute friend?

JASON: (groans) Oh God… spare me.

DICK: Hello, Barbara.

BARBARA: (smiling) Hello, Dick. Lovely to see you again.

JASON: Someone get me a violin. 

BARBARA: You going to tell your life story?

JASON: Gonna serenade Lady and the Dick while they suck spaghetti out of each other’s faces.

DICK: Oi - shut it. What are you doing out, Barbara?

BARBARA: Same thing you’re doing; helping out the big man.

DICK: You should get some sleep.

JASON: (sarcastic) Hey, you should get some sleep together.

BARBARA: (eyeroll) Shut up. Bruce has been overreaching; I’m worried about him.

DICK: You too, huh?

BARBARA: With Superman out of commission, he’s trying to cover Metropolis and Gotham at the same time; the Batwing never gets a chance to cool down.

JASON: You ever wonder what the inside of his suit smells like?

DICK: What?

JASON: Probably never takes it off.

BARBARA: Are you just trying to be the weird one, or do you need attention in order to properly function?

JASON: My bet is on the inside of a packet of dry roasted peanuts. 

DICK: Ugh.

JASON: No - quarterback’s gym bag. No! Should’ve said Tight End. Dammit.

BARBARA: Is he having a fit? Should - should I slap him?

DICK: Yeah, better not; I think he’d like it.

JASON: No, wait! Used bondage parlour.

DICK: Oh God. Know that from experience, do you?

JASON: Wouldn’t you like to know.

BARBARA: Does he have an off switch?

DICK: I wouldn’t ask that out loud.

JASON: Hey, you wanna know what really grates my cheese?

DICK: No, but I know you’re gonna say it anyway.

BARBARA: Yep. Nutcase gotta nut.

DICK: (snorts) Phrasing.

JASON: Shut up and pay attention to me. We’re out here, on patrol. Right?

DICK: Right.

BARBARA: Like we always are.

JASON: Yeah, not gettin’ any fuckin’ sleep, either, because some dumbass got it into his head that evil never sleeps.

DICK: And don’t forget, good is ever-vigilant!

JASON: Yeah. That’s my oint. 

BARBARA: Umm… what is?

JASON: If ‘evil’ is smart, it’ll stay in bed while chumps like us wait up all night like a ditched prom date hoping something will happen, because we’re the only ones who suffer from it.

DICK: Ohh, dear.

BARBARA: Yup. He’s on a roll now.

DICK: Stand back, or he’ll spit on you.

JASON: (ignoring them) For all I know, evil is sleeping like a fuckin’ baby while we’re out here, busting our humps to keep things normal in Gotham, I mean fuck, the old man’s busting his hump to cover two cities at once - and the best weapon we’ve got is sitting on his ASS because he’s too fuckin’ good NOT to!

DICK: You don’t have to shout. 

BARBARA: Pretty sure he can hear you already. 

JASON: This isn’t a fucking joke, Grayson. Not any more.

DICK: Jase. Come on.

JASON: You come on! I’m sick of all this fuckin’ goody goody two shoes sticking to the rules shit!

BARBARA: (dry) Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.

JASON: Oh, excuse me, princess. But we don’t all have Big Daddy Gordon to get us out of trouble.

DICK: Hey, you don’t talk to her like that!

BARBARA: I can speak for myself, Dick.

JASON: Yeah, Dick.

BARBARA: Shut up, Jason. My dad expects me to take care of myself. Just like yours does.

JASON: Hey, Bruce is not my father. Sorry you had to find out this way, Dick. 

DICK: So we’re not brothers after all? I’m - I’m finally free?

JASON: Pff - you wish. You don’t get out of your obligations that easily. 

BARBARA: Obligations?

JASON: (counting on his fingers) Buying me shit. Loaning me your stuff. 

DICK: Uh, stealing my stuff -

JASON: (counting) Holding back my hair when I puke. Gettin’ wedgied for me. Taking the blame when I throw rocks at cars… 

DICK: That was Lex Luthor’s car - and I only took the blame because you took off like a rabbit! Bruce made sure I didn’t see the light of day for a month, you pillock.

BARBARA: (laughs)

JASON: Uh, taking me trick or treating, getting my name tattooed on your ass -

DICK: That is so not happening. 

JASON: Offering to sell your soul to spare my life -

DICK: Am I crazy, or is this all  ridiculously one-sided?

BARBARA: Well, he’s your brother, so - both?

JASON: (still counting) Covering for me when I total Daddy Wayne’s car; yeah, you know: normal brother stuff. What else would there be?

DICK: Not like, uh, I don’t know - watching your back?

JASON: You need me for that. I got my own back.

BARBARA: Watching your own ass.

JASON: Hey, I would if I could.

DICK: Bruce is still your father, Jason.

JASON: He’s your Dad. You’re like a matching set - he’s the Daddy Dick, and you’re the -

BARBARA: Don’t say it…

JASON:  Baby Dick.

DICK: Aaaaand, he’s back.

BARBARA: Never stays mad for long.

DICK: Like a kid, really. 

BARBARA: Or a puppy.

DICK: Yeah, that keeps messing on the rug.

JASON: I changed my mind. Forget the violin: somebody just get me a bag.

BARBARA: What?

JASON: It’s just that you’re such a disgustingly cute couple, it’s getting harder for me to keep my McNuggets down.

DICK: What? We’re not even -

BARBARA: As if.

JASON: You’re both just so fun, you’d make a (yawns) perfect… (snores)

BARBARA: Shut up.

DICK: He does actually snore like that, you know.

BARBARA: (laughs) I bet.

JASON: Do not.

DICK: Except with his mouth hanging open… 

JASON: Nope.

DICK: Face-down, eating the pillow… 

JASON: Can’t prove that!

DICK: And drowning in drool.

JASON: Shut up. (scoffs) You’re still just going to march on like a good little toy soldier, aren’t you? Ready to lay down your life for the law, just because it’s the right thing to do?

DICK: It’s a bad situation. We all know it. 

BARBARA: We’re not stupid.

DICK: We just have to keep taking steps forward; it’s the only way to get through this. 

BARBARA: Yeah. We’ve got to help Bruce, any way we can. We can’t let this stupid law turn all of our hard work to shit.

DICK: But we have to stick together. 

JASON: (grunts)

DICK: What’s brought this on, anyway? You planning on switching sides, any time soon? Is the mantle of goodness weighing too heavily on those padded shoulders?

JASON: Good, evil… what’s the diff? I’m what you call a free agent.

DICK: You mean you’ve got morals looser than a -

JASON: (faux gasp) Richard! Language!

DICK: (flustered) That’s not what I was going to say! 

JASON: Sure it wasn’t.

DICK: You don’t even know what I was going to say!

JASON: We all know what you were going to say, young man.

BARBARA: (laughs) 

JASON: And there is a lady present.

BARBARA: Fuck off, Jay.

JASON: Never mind, it’s just Barbie. Carry on.

BARBARA: (punches his shoulder) You’re such an asshole.

JASON: Madam, I am adorable.

DICK: Jase. You with us?

JASON: (sighs) Yeah.

BARBARA: Good. ‘Cause we know all your weaknesses.

JASON: You know about the cookie dough ice cream?

BARBARA: And the French women.

(pause; they laugh)

JASON: I’m still pissed about the Blue Wonder, though.

DICK: That one’s a real Catch-22. 

BARBARA: Bruce doesn’t hold it against him.

DICK: Yeah, they get each other.

JASON: Stop, I’m tearing up. Come on, I need some coffee or I’m gonna pass out. I’ll even pay for it.

BARBARA: Whoa. It is a mighty need.

DICK: Yeah alright, I could use some, too I reckon.

JASON: Ohh, looks like I left my wallet in my other leather pants.

DICK: Of course you did…

JASON: You got this, right Dick?

DICK: Where do you think I hide a wallet in this suit?

JASON: Come on, that can’t all be bulge. 

DICK: (embarrassed) What?!

JASON: That’s gotta be, at least, fifty percent emergency fanny pack.

DICK: I swear I’ve told you about using that word.

JASON: This is the US of A, my brother: better get used to it or I’ll have to kick you right in the fanny.

DICK: Oh, you are the worst. 

BARBARA: (laughing) Don’t worry, I got this. 

JASON: What? Where do you hide a wallet?

BARBARA: I have my ways. 

JASON: It’s the cape, isn’t it.

DICK: Gotta be the boots.

BARBARA: Guess I just have a bigger bulge than the both of you.

JASON: Yeah, so big I can’t even see it.

DICK: I think she wears it on the inside.

BARBARA: (faux gasp) Language! 

DICK: Sorry, sorry…

BARBARA: There’s a lady present. For fuck’s sake.

(JASON and DICK laughing)

ELSEWHERE… 

DIGGER: (groans)

WAYLON: Well hey ‘dere! Welcome to the party.

SLADE: Ugh… Waylon?

WAYLON: Now what brings you two… gentlemen into ol’ Waylon’s necks o’ dat woods, huh?

DIGGER: It wasn’t supposed to be you…

WAYLON: Ohh, you was expectin’ maybe Eddie ‘n Jonboy? Well, they’s about… 1000 or so miles thattaway.

DIGGER: For fuck’s sake…

SLADE: Impossible.

WAYLON: Oh now, don’t beat yoself up about it. Ye just followed the wrong plates is all. I mean, I reckon it could happen to anyone, even the Suicide Squad.

(SLADE tries to get untied)

WAYLON: I wouldn’t bother trying to get outta those binds now. Wouldn’t do ya no good if you did anyhow.

DIGGER: Augh… what’s that pong?

WAYLON: I was waitin’ fo y’to ask that! That, boys, is a mix of cow guts, pigs blood, and a big ol’ helpin’ o Red Rooster.

(WAYLON licks his fingers)

WAYLON: MmmmmmMm! Too good. See, as we speak, you two’re dancin’ what Waylon call the Bayou Two-Step. Now, the Bayou Two-Step is hell of a lot of fun - see, what you do is, you strip yoself down buckass nekkid, cover yoself in as many guts as you can find, and tie yourself to a tree wit nuthin’ but a two foot plank o’ wood keepin’ you from all the ‘gators you callin; wit’cha... (sniffs) ...decadent bouquet. 

DIGGER: It sounds great, Waylon. Top notch. But you know you don’t have to do this! I mean, I don’t know about Slade, but I always thought you were a great guy!’

SLADE: Shut up, George.

DIGGER: You could cut us down, let us slap the ol’ derps back on, join the squad!

WAYLON: I told Waller. I’ll tell you too. I ain’t no murderer.

SLADE: And what, pray, d’you call this?

WAYLON: Well, bleak as it may be - issa chance. More than your ‘squad’ ever gave anyone.

SLADE: Well, aren’t you noble.

WAYLON: Nah, I’m just a man of rare insights. Now, if you’ll excuse me boys, Waylon’s business is all wrapped up here, so he gonna go back home now. Y’all have fun now!

DIGGER: Come on! You can’t do this!

SLADE: Waylon - if you cut us down now, I’m prepared to let bygones be gone. We’ll forget this little incident, and you won’t hear a whisper from us - hell, I might even send you a Christmas card. But if you leave us here, and I get out? That’s you done. Now I want you to think real careful about this, Waylon Jones. Is this what you want?

WAYLON: You talk too much, Slade.

DIGGER: (laughs)

WAYLON: G’bye boys. Don’t come back now, y’hear?

(WAYLON starts JONATHAN’s truck and drives away)

DIGGER: Well, I shall certainly choose the Bayou as my holiday destination next year.

SLADE: … 

DIGGER: I never did thank you for letting me be a part of this amazing journey.

SLADE: … 

DIGGER: Yep. Looks like everyone’s kicked a goal.

SLADE: … 

DIGGER: I mean, I s’pose I should’ve been the tracker... seeing as I’m the one with two FULLY FUNCTIONAL FUCKING EYES.

SLADE: You done?

DIGGER: … 

SLADE: Thank Christ.

DIGGER: (chuckles)

SLADE: What.

DIGGER: So much for never underestimating your opponent, eh Mr. Myagi?

SLADE: (sighs) Lord take me now.

DIGGER: Ohhh, I don’t think he’ll have the chance.

(ALLIGATORS begin to hiss)