What Really Happened - A Screenplay by Yeorin

[DruidFire]

So, I was sifting through all of my old Vanguard stuff...

And I found this little gem.

This was shoved onto the boards around the time Sigil switched from MSFT to SOE.

One of the funniest things I've ever read on the VG:SoH forums, by far

Enjoy!


Posted by Yeorin on 5/6/06

O fellows, mine comerades of Off Topic, I have been inspired by recent events to pen a masterpiece of sattirical cacophony. For the Production forum has reached a level of existence overpowering even the Gameplay forum, with drama rolling from mountains high in huge heaps and globs. Taranis battles valiantly, but alas I fear he is lost. Gather round the candle light, for within mine holy papers, the True Events are chronicled! Oh, and it's late. I'm so freakin' tired.


SCENE: A posh Sigil conference room. A ficus sits in the corner. A massive round table with chairs all about it and a water cooler in the corner are the only articles of furniture. John Smedley [in a wheelchair], Brad McQuaid, Jeff Butler, Taranis, Glip, a Microsoft Man-in-Black, and Aruspex sit around the table. It is late afternoon on a quiet, sunny day, and the lot of them are discussing the publishing situation of Vanguard, and the move from Microsoft to an SOE/Sigil co-operative publish. Aruspex is not sitting; he is instead standing by the ficus.

Glip The Gnome: Just so you guys know. I think you're ****ing crazy. You don't have to moderate the forums. I DO. Do you know what's going to happen if any of you so much as hint that we're even glancing at SOE's office building? I killed Jansan, you know...I can kill you, too. I'LL make Vanguard! Just me and Aruspex!

Aruspex: Oh shut up. You didn't kill Jansan; he's downstairs watching his hair regrow. And quit pretending I like you. You're just a pawn in my scheme to take over the world. Dammit.

John Smedley squeeks his wheelchair nervously.

Brad McQuaid: Guys, guys. Come on. Settle down. Glip, it's not that bad. Aruspex, you're smart, but you're not taking over the world. Now...this meeting of SOE, Microsoft, and SGO, henceforth known SOESGOMIC, shall come to order!

Jeff Butler: ALL HAIL! *Clasps hand to chest*

John Smedley: *Cough, wheeze* All hail.

Aruspex: HAIL!

Glip: Fine. Hail. *Sideways, smileless glance to camera*

Taranis: Werd. *Taranis adjusts his 'Rough Detective' jacket*

Microsoft MIB: *Camera click*

Brad McQuaid: ..What's wrong with Smedley?

Jeff Butler: Well, sir, the wheelchair is just there because he likes it. He's gone into seclusion ever since people started e-mugging him everytime he posts on a forum. He has become rather eccentric. The wheezing...well, I think it's the pollen.

John Smedley nods, resting his eyes momentarily on everyone around the table and licking his dry lips.

Brad McQuaid: *Folds his arms on the table, nodding and trying to keep a straight, neutral expression* ...I see. Well then. As you all know, we have arranged to purchase back all assets and rights to our game, Vanguard: Saga of Heroes, from Microsoft Games, and with the right amount of drugs...er...negotiating...they have agreed. This shall give us unprecedented freedom; infact, the Department of Cult Activities is theorizing this will bring all of us closer to immortality and ultimate understanding of the universe. SWEET, right?

Taranis, you have been in communication with some anonymous Goon at Microsoft as well as Smedley. Care to bring before us, the entire council of SOESGOMIC, what you propose as far as a contract goes?

Glip: Oh boy, here comes the Pact with Satan to make my job hell.

Aruspex: This is all part of my master plan to--

Taranis: MY TURN to talk, Aruspex. Zip it! I swear Glip, they should let me moderate the forums...you're too nice on the interweb. You gotta be FIRM man, like--

Microsoft MIB: The business contract, Taranis.

Taranis: *Adjusts his cop-style sunglasses* ..Right. Business. As I was about to say...I have slaved for many weeks in my office lair, creating a 102% bulletproof contract. This contract has all my life's experience poured into it to ensure that not only will neither SGO or SOE breach the contract, but SOE also will not have any hand in development. It is so bulletproof, infact, that we simply have to post it to the forums for the fans to read, and they will be instantly pacified. This contract, this MASTERPIECE, is SO detailed in it's finesseities and functions, that it could govern every business across the world simply by being read aloud. The business jargon alone is so arcane in it's silky weave that it shall appease all parties.

Now, the basics, in English for all to understand...

1. SOE will have no hand hitherto, unless requested by Brad McQuaid himself, in the development, design, or patching of Vanguard: Saga of Heroes.
2. SOE will host servers.
3. SOE will put discs in boxes, and boxes on shelves. SOE will not put Anthrax in said boxes.
4. SOE will assign many modelers to creating smexy advertisements for Vanguard: Saga of Heroes.
5. SOE will not drink our coffee.
6. SOE will, lastly, serve as a middle man between the customer's money and the Sigil coffers.
7. Sigil Games Online will do pretty much everything else. Sigil Games Online will not drink SOE's coffee.
8. Microsoft Games will more or less dissapear.
*Taranis proceeds to make a series of tongue clicks and strange sounds as he reads off the rest of the contract.*

Taranis: Do I need to clarify?

John Smedley:Works for me. I like money. Think I'll make some porn with it.

Microsoft MIB: Bill Gates is not happy about this, you know.

Taranis leaps out of his chair and sneers. With a growl he pulls a Glock from his coat and jumps up on the table, pointing it at the Microsoft representative.

Taranis: I DON'T CARE. Got it?! I slaved away in your offices for too many years to let The Man 'Billy G' bring me down! *Looks to Brad* Lemme waste 'em, B! LEMME WASTE EM. *Shakes pistol* I AM SO TORMENTED.

Brad McQuaid: Taranis...put down the airsoft gun. Look, this isn't a crime novel, ok? You're not really a detective. Now...about that contract...there's something I need to--

Glip the Gnome: You think THAT'S going to pacify the forum-goers? You idiot. *Laughs* I'm so ****ing screwed.

Smedley: Well I thought it was fine...

Aruspex: Smedley, you don't even read forums. Shut up.

Smedley: ..You shut up...I do too.

Brad McQuaid: *Pounds his water cup like a gavel* SILENCE. Jeff, you're better at this than I. Perhaps you should explain the sole flaw in this contract.

Jeff Butler: ...y...Yes sir. Well you see, the problem is, we can't just post that contract to a forum, Taranis. It's unprofessional, and, well...a breach of the contract itself. And if what you've said about the contract's durability is true, and if it passed the Test of Chezryx, our Dark Lady of Game Design, then...a breach of that contract would spell the end of all existence. Taranis, this is BAD.

Microsoft MIB looks about blankly. John Smedley smirks to himself, then turns to an expression of partial horror as he starts muttering something about his computer hunting him in the night. Taranis violently flips through the pages of the contract. He finds the clause confirming Butler's words; the only thing prventing him from tearing the paper in half is it's 102% bulletproofness. Glip the Gnome's eyes turn to fire as he looks on in hatred at the VP of Business Relations. Jeff Butler shuffles uneasily..

Taranis: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Smedley: I'm not going anywhere near your forums now! ..You..won't have me!

Microsoft MIB: I'll be leaving. *Microsoft MIB parachutes out of the window.*

Aruspex: Yeessssss. My plan...it is working...*Mumbles about world government as he strokes the ficus*

Glip the Gnome: **** NO. **** NO. You're not throwing me to the dogs. Taranis did this, make him moderate the forums for 24 hours after the press release or I quit! He wanted to anyways!

Brad McQuaid: ..This is bad. Taranis, why did you...?

Taranis: I didn't! You do not understand the arcane magicks of contracts. THE CONTRACT wrote that part of itself as a result of it's inherent power! NGGHGHHH. Brad, you can't make me do what Glip is suggesting...you can't...buddy...?

Brad McQuaid: I have little choice. And you DID say we should let you moderate the forums, Taranis. *Sigh*.... But I shall not desert you. I shall ascend on high to my Office of Offices, lock mine doors, draw upon the power of Chezryx, Dark Lady of Game Design, and write no less than five Novels to support you in your policing of the forums after the press release. Don't worry, I'm sure they'll understand.

Taranis: *Smirks* Well...I guess you're right. I suppose it's time to show Glip how to MODERATE.

Glip: Have fun. Jerk. YOU WATCH, they won't listen! You will SEE why I am who I really am! You will SEE the evil! Hahahaha, locking to consolidate!!! I bet you're just like me by morning. I'll be back later...I'm gonna go taunt Jansan with that bag of his hair I stole from him.

Jeff Butler: *Shaking hands with Brad, John Smedley, and Taranis* Oh that silly Glip and his dark prophecies. Hah! I bet they'll understand fine when we tell them what's going on. Call the PR department and unleash the hounds! THE UNION IS COMPLETE, come Blood or Honey. ALL HAIL!

The group disperses. Brad McQuaid chants and waves his arms, opening a portal to his Office of Offices. Jeff Butler follows him. Glip cackles as he rides the elevator down to the floor below. Taranis cracks his knuckles and returns to his cubicle, while Aruspex simply converses with the Ficus on dictatorships and monarchies. John Smedley rolls around the conference room in silence.

Part II:

What Really Happened, Act 2: Siege at Carlsbad

SCENE: Sigil's Office Building. The skies are hazed in smoke and clouds, the air smells of ash and body odor, and Sigil's building is one of the few things remaining of downtown Carlsbad. It is a grisly scene; fans riot in the streets below, some insisting this is a good deal, and others suspecting a nefarious plot on behalf of John Smedley and his Motley Crew of Idolaters. Military tanks lay wrecked alongside trucks, SUVs, Brad's Sports Car, and entire buildings.

Atop the Sigil Stronghold, protected by a force field generated by Aruspex's brain combined with the powerful magicks of Jeff Butler, the core members of SOESGO (Microsoft has since vanished from the situation, having retreated from the planet to their orbital space station) observe the events below.

Taranis, frustrated with the failure to communicate from the night prior, is sulking in the background as Glip the Gnome taunts him. Aruspex and Jeff Butler are at the front edge of the building maintaining the protective field. The conference room Ficus sits next to Aruspex. John Smedley is wheeling around in a circle on the middle of the roof, howling that 'they' have finally come for him. Brad McQuaid is standing next to Taranis, talking at him while Taranis sulks and glares at Glip's relentless taunts and jeers. From the swarms of gamers below, occasionally one or two will get close to the building to throw bricks with messages attached to them up toward the Sigil roof.

Glip the Gnome: I told you! Hah! They never stop, Taranis. They NEVER stop. You'll be hearing about this for years to come. Still want to moderate the forums? Haha!

Taranis: Leave me alone. *Pops an advil* Why don't you go bug Smed? Or Jansan?

Glip the Gnome: Jansan is still downstairs watching his hair grow. As for Smed...

John Smedley: *Wheelchair squeaking as he rolls about the roof* The Doom Hordes have come for me! They've finally come! HAHAHA...

Aruspex: Would you SHUT UP? Your pained howls are like a barrage of cinderblocks on my cranium, you demented fool. You've been going on about god-knows-what for the past two days!

John Smedley: They'll take you too! *Licks his lips and cackles*

Jeff Butler: *Pauses his spellweaving momentarily, jabbing Aruspex in the ribs* Aruspex! The force field! We must keep them at bay while Brad formulates a plan. Brad, what are your thoughts sir?

Brad McQuaid: This...is awful. Simply awful. It's as if we've signed a pact with the devil and the Catholic Church was given control of a military! O for the days when we hadn't told them. I doubt they ever would have even noticed the logo on the box had we kept quiet. And, sweet Jesus, why my car?!

Jeff Butler: That's nice and all, but that doesn't help us right n-- INNCOMIIING! *Jeff Butler ducks as a volley of bricks fly up to the roof, messages firmly tied to them. Jeff concentrates on bringing his part of the forcefield back up, arcane energies crackling around him.*

Twelve messages roll to a stop at Brad's feet. He picks one up and begins to read... "OH MY ****ING GOD BRAD WTF WHY YOU DO THIS WHY?!?!!?!~~~~~" He reads another. "SOE is going to STEAL YOUR GAME with their mind contrawl powars! Lookout! SMED IS COMING!" This one made Mr. McQuaid chuckle; Smedley was presently rolling away from him. Five more bricks fly up, but bounce off of the force field.

Taranis: More of the same, boss?

Brad McQuaid: Yeh. Get the megaphone out, maybe they'll listen today.

Taranis shrugs and, ignoring Glip entirely at this point, picks up a nearby megaphone and walks over to the edge, carefully peering down.

Taranis: HEY, STOP KILLING EACHOTHER AND LISTEN TO ME DAMMIT. How many times do I have to tell you about my 102% bulletproof business contract? There's no way SOE can touch the gameplay! Trust me!

Phillip, Senior Member: Boooo, Sony will make Brad bend over and--

Taranis: Woah, woah. Stop there. First off, Brad has a chastity belt, ok? It's a high-tech alloy. Secondly, No. I would read this contract to you but that would result in existence as we know it collapsing. You see--

Gregory, Crusader of Light, Member: Likely story! Liar! LIAR! SOE lapdog! A thousand plagues upon you!

Crowd in Unison: Lap dog! Lap dog! Lap dog! Lap dog!

Taranis: ...That's it. Time for a REAL press release.

Taranis's eye begins to twitch. He hurls the megaphone over his shoulder, accidentally knocking the irate Glip unconcious. He reaches into his jacket, grins evilly at Brad, and draws from his coat a document marked "Theoretical Anomolous Codex of PvP (do not touch)". He unrolls it and begins reading it in a language not of this world.

Brad McQuaid: Eeeeee! Taranis is chanting our PvP game mechanics! Level 12 security breach! ... Aruspex, do something!

Aruspex: Do I look busy to you? Because I am. Right Ficus?

Ficus: Right.

The skies turn red as Taranis continues reading. Suddenly, the squeeking of John Smedley's wheelchair reaches a high pitched fervor.

John Smedley: *Sees the PvP Codex and begins salivating* THE FIRES OF SIN ARE UPON US. Give me the document! I am the industry's TRUE salvation! ... ...Money!!!

Taranis turns around to see Smedley rolling toward him at incredible speed. Brad McQuaid's eyes widen as he runs toward Taranis, hand outstretched to snatch away the mighty scroll. With a great heave of his arms, his eyes hungry with lust and desire, John Smedley pushes himself out of his wheelchair and launches forward toward Taranis in an effort to grab the Theoretical Anomolous Codex of PvP. The two of them fall off the edge of the building into the churning chaos below. Glip suddenly gets up and looks on, dumbstruck. Aruspex and Jeff Butler pause their work and stare in disbelief. A ball of burning pitch, just in time for the force field to drop, slams against the edge of the roof and sends flame across the top of the building.

Brad McQuaid: THE CODEX! ..TARANIS! No! All is lost! *Sinks to his knees* O Cindy Bowens, Abigale Seashadow, Shaman of The Masses....why must you be on sick leave? With pay, even! Had you been here, things would have been so different...

Jeff Butler: *Rushing to Brad's side* Sir, we must evacuate. I fear with Taranis gone, and with the Codex at that, this is not the best time to be where we are.

Aruspex: Ficus is on fire! Someone help!

Glip the Gnome: I hated that stupid thing anyway.

Jeff Butler: I think pretty much all of us did.

Aruspex: I will never forget this betrayal! This abandonment of myself and my one true ally! I will have my revenge...may the flames take you all! *Aruspex grabs the flaming office plant, then leaps from the side of the building...and vanishes in a flash of grey light, laughing maniacally.*

As another ball of burning pitch flies up toward the building, all seems lost. Brad McQuaid is devastated, while Jeff Butler tries to console him. Glip has gotten up off the ground and stands staring moodily at the camera, his face turned partly to the side. Suddenly, time freezes around the three. A brilliantly shimmering portal appears before them, the image of a Paradise of Ultimate Zen swirling within. A robed figure, face obscured, steps forth and stands before Brad and Jeff.

Brad McQuaid: ...Are we dead? Are you God?

Robed Figure: Oh, Brad. Surely you remember me? Perhaps this will jog your memory... *The Robed Figure holds forth a sheaf of papers titled "The Laws of Online World Design".*

Brad and Jeff, in Unison: ...Raph Koster?!

Robed Figure: Yes, it is I.

Brad McQuaid: Huh, so that's where you dissapeared to...paradise huh? What's that all about?

Robed Figure: You have languished too long upon this plane, subjected to the masses. Come! Ascend with me to the sanctuary I have created with my Laws! We have an incredible array of Krispy Kremes and Gourmet Coffees, and with the two of you...it shall be perfect. Enter the portal, Sigil Scions, and be immortalized in our paradise!

Jeff Butler: I love Krispy Kreme!

Brad McQuaid: SWEET! Bye Glip! You can have my office chair, I know you've always wanted it.

Glip the Gnome: Wait, what about me?! Don't I deserve a little paradise?

Raph Koster: Glip, there is much for you to do in this world before you can join us. There are forums to moderate, Glip. Now go, and seek out your own destiny...I have erased those besieging you from the weave of time. I will see you next month.

Glip the Gnome: Office chair...hmmm...shaving Jansan's hair in his sleep to make him think it's not regrowing...I guess that's not so bad. I still need more revenge for that rotten pepper spray trick. Bye, then...I'll just stay here...

Brad McQuaid: *Whispering to Raph* Are you really going to let him in? Not only is he batty, but he'll bogart the cappucino machine.

Raph Koster: Nah.

Raph Koster, Brad McQuaid, and Jeff Butler enter the portal. It closes behind them in a brilliant flash.

Fade to Black....





....And that, my friends, is what -Really- happened.

All credit to Yeorin I just thought I'd share a bit of old jewels from the old boards

Hope you enjoyed!

[Ysharros]

I hadn't seen that one before. Excellent stuff!

Now if you *really* had cojones you'd have posted that in The Death Thread

/runs off to find cover, cackling

[Aredhel]

Yeorin.....

AMAZING work!! This can't be lost for eternity! It's too good!!!

Think I'll print it out on parchment and put it in a portfolio or something to hang onto! Wonderful, wonderful find! Thank you!!!

[DruidFire]

Hehe.

Parchment would be cool.


Movie would be better.

[Beldgarath]

Oh my, I laughed till my ribs cracked....

Someone needs to write up the next episode..

Anyone got a contact for Yeorin?

[Kiril]

That is very good, bravo to Yeorin, someone give him/her a cookie, heck give them 10!

[DruidFire]

I wish I knew where Yeorin went

He did do Pt. 2 by popular demand though!

I wonder where Yeorin went...

[Prithivi]

Rofl!!!!