Subject: [FFML] [Eva/Many]Sidestep:Evangelion, Episode 2
From: "Rick Spiff" <burgan40@hotmail.com>
Date: 1/12/2001, 12:57 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com



Part 2 as promised.



Rick Spiff

Master of Insanity

Head of Insanity Productions

Email=rick_spiff@yahoo.com

_________________________________________________________________

Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com





-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --

-- File: SE02.txt



INTRODUCING: SIDESTEP:EVANGELION... again. Give me a break, people!

Following warnings apply: Language, suggestive language, possible

lime/lemon content, violence, Sidestep-related stuff, Eva-like darkness

(in places). Well, watch, wonder and enjoy!



C&C, Flames, Anything, welcome at: rick_spiff@yahoo.com



Check out Insanity Productions' home page:

http://www.geocities.com/rick_spiff/



{Note: This will be a continuing series. Suggestions also welcome.}









~ Begin fic ~



[Opening Music is Metallica's 'Enter Sandman' as loud as you can play

it. A montage of shots flash by to the bars of the song, mostly of the

Sidestep cast and various Eva characters dressed in kick-ass clothes and

shooting things out of frame. Splattered here and there among the

characters are various explosions for variety.]





----------



Title Flash:



SIDESTEP:EVANGELION

Episode 2: Memiors and Failures/

           Is That My Car or Yours?



----------





[Music cuts out.]







[EXT. TOKYO-3 SKYLINE - NIGHT.]



[Overlay date and place:]



                       T O K Y O - 3 ,  2 0 0 7 .



[Cut to a street downtown. It's late, but we see James and Miko walking

down here at a leisurely pace. James' trenchcoat is around Miko, but he

looks comfortable and confident. They're talking in soft tones, but

since there isn't much background noise, they can be heard easily. Most

of the shops and small restaurants look closed in this area.]



Miko: First question?



James: Bomb away.



Miko: Thanks for making me a part of your little team, but I have to

wonder. Was that safe?



James: With Dave around, it's always safe. He's invented the ultimate

bug-proofer. If he talks openly about it, no one can listen in... at

least, no one that can cause trouble. Dave's a sharp guy, and we all

carry around stuff the military could only imagine they might wish

for. Second question?



Miko: What about you guys being 'CT' people?



James: The Counter-Terrorism stuff. Ah, well, that's the real heavy

stuff. I started out as an assassin, but got out of the business.

Godless bunch of fucking hypocrites. Dave at least had some direction.

Then, with him, Ed, and plenty of others, we sort of just worked

together fighting off Takona's goons for about a year. After that, we

realized we could work together well, but only in the middle of

conflict. As soon as things settled down, we all went our own ways.

Years passed. Second Impact came. Us three goons got stuck in the middle

of it. Since then we've been like this city's protectors.  After SI, the

whole world just went to shit. Then, out of the woodwork crawl all of

our old buddies. It's like an old Gundam series where you think the main

characters are long gone and then they just keep showing up everytime

there's another conflict; and there's always another conflict. So know

we hunt down terrorists with goals and objectives that the basic

military and police divisions can't deal with. We fill in the crack

where the big boys let things slip through.  We're a private enterprize,

but we're pretty rich, so it evens things out.



Miko: You three privately run a counter-terrorist group under the noses

of the Japanese government out of your own pockets?



James: Yeah, pretty much.



Miko: And you fight terrorists, like, on a regular basis?



James: Yes.



Miko: And you aren't dead?



James: I've been killing people since I was eighteen. I trained with the

best, I've fought the best, and I've beaten the best. In my day I was

the world's top assassin. I know things the military would--and has

tried to--kill to understand. I do it really well.



Miko: Now I'm curious.



James: Well, enough with me being an assassin, let's talk about

something else.



Miko: What about life before Second Impact?



James: That was life before Second Impact.



Miko: Can you be more specific?



James: Okay, okay. I have a few stories to tell, but you won't get the

details out of me tonight.



Miko: (frowns, then perks up) What about Second Impact? Where were you

then?



James: Why do you want to know?



Miko: ... Sounds like that changed you guys a lot.



James: (curious) It did. But how did you figure that out?



Miko: Have you been listening to yourself? You talk around Second Impact

like it was a big turning point in your life. You say you guys just slid

into the position of being defenders of your home, but it was like you

were made for the role and just waiting for a trigger.



James: (obviously elevating his evaluation of her intelligence)

That's... about right.



Miko: James, sometimes you talk too much.



James: I can live with that.



[Miko sighs and looks up into the starry night sky. It's clear out and

the heavens sparkle like the city might float away on the soft, sweet

spring breezes that ebb lightly down the wide streets.]



[After a moment, her vision returns unsteadily to the horizontal, then

to James.]



Miko: So tell me already.



James: About what?



Miko: About Second Imapct.



James: Now?



Miko: I've already asked you to twice.



James: But you said I talked too much.



Miko: And I'm asking you to talk some more. Talk about Second Impact.



James: But you only asked me once.



Miko: (smiles sweetly) I just asked you for a second time.



James: I--but... Well, okay. The year zero-zero...





[Cue flashback effects.]



[INT. THEATER PLAYING ANIME - DARK.]



[Overlay date and place:]



                         T O K Y O ,  2 0 0 0 .



[James, Ed, and Dave are watching anime on the big screen, and quite

frankly, enjoying it. There aren't many people in the theater, which is

unusual because this _is_ Tokyo. We can't see what they are watching,

but in the light from the screen, we see they have definitely entrenched

themselves for the long haul.]



James: (quaking with joy) Anime... on the big screen... (he looks about

ready to wet his pants)



Dave: It's just more Sailor Snatch, James. Calm Down.



James: (rising above Dave dramatically) _LOWLY_ _INSECT_...



People: Get down... We can't see... You in front, sit yo' ass down!



James: (ignoring the rest of the audience) YOU [DARE] QUESTION THE

GREATNESS OF 'MAGICAL GIRL 3: CURSE OF THE MAD MASK'?!!



Dave: It was a one-episode OAV, if you could call it that even, and it's

just second-rate....



[James' eyes are glowing a firey red, his Coat billowing onimously in

the sudden wind from behind him...]



Dave: (deadpan) Fine. I'll watch it.



[End flashback.]





James: Aheh... (slightly embarassed look) Well, there was a bump or two

and we pulled out the secret weapon... nothing much to tell beyond

that...



Miko: (strained sweetness) James...



James: Ah... okay. Look, a long time ago, Dave and I stole a

super-secret weapon from the US government, modified, and ever since it

has been our personal play-toy.



Miko: And?



James: It can blow up the world and it saved our asses when the first

Angel attacked.



[Overlay semi-transparent scene of a massive explosion ripping up

Japan. Fade out the explosion. James looks around the city and to the

mountains in the distance almost listlessly.]



James: Shame it had to happen here...



Miko: James, I said it before and I'll say it again...



James: What?



[Miko loops her arm behind James' back and hooks one of his feet with

hers.]



Miko: You talk too much.



[She then tips him back and kisses him deeply on the lips. Fade out.]







[INT. LARGE CONFERENCE ROOM - STUFFY, LATE AFTERNOON FEELING.]



[James, Gendo, Dave and Ed are seating around a gray metal conference

table that looks like one of those crapy 'post-modern' furniture

P.O.S.'s. On the plus side, it is sturdy. Set in front of each person

are small, flat computers, like the notebook of today, except the

screens are much smaller and they set on the same plane as the keyboard.

Fuyutsuki is nowhere to be seen and the heavy doors look sealed shut.]



Gendo: This is how I want things. Handleton, you're administration,

information gathering and correlation, that sort of thing. You work out

the numbers, logistics, and situations.



Dave: I prefer to let my field agents have some leeway, Sir.



Gendo: Granted, but they report to you. Understood?



Dave: Quite.



Gendo: Flemming, you handle interior security. (Ed frowns) You watch

Handleton's back, keep an eye on the facilities, look over Section 6's

shoulder. You'll also have to organize equipment for field operations and 

keep

it ready at a moments notice. Mr. Handleton has noted that you are

well-suited to this task.



Ed: Okay.



Gendo: Mr. Rahn, you're field operations. Spies, wetwork, foreign

problems, interior problems, police liaison, that sort of work. You'll

work with Flemming for supplies and Mrs. Jones for personnel.



[Uncomfortable pause.]



Gendo: Speaking of her, why is she not here?



Dave: Missed my message. James has some errands to run anyway, I'll have

him pick her up.



James: Sir?



Gendo: Yes.



James: What personnel? It's just the five or six of us.



Dave: Nine.



Gendo: (continuing) You'll have lots more if things go well. You see, I

need someone here to keep an eye on NERV itself, that's why you people

don't even have a section number. For starts, you'll work mostly with

NERV personnel directly, get them comfortable with the idea of you being

around here. But, I would be wary of hiring them without a thorough

background check.



Dave: That's my area of expertise.



Gendo: Excellent. Remember, don't tell anyone in NERV, excluding myself,

what you're up to. Ultimately, you all report to Handleton.



[James and Ed nod thoughtfully.]



Gendo: Goben is American field operations with German liaison. Rahn,

she's your subordinate. Keep her in line. (Dave snickers. James raises

his hand) Yes?



James: I already have subordinates.



Gendo: (looks at him) Then you'll have more. Jamison is weapons, NERV

has located her employer. Handleton?



Dave: Yes?



Gendo: Find her.



Dave: Sure thing, boss.



Gendo: We obviously still have some ground to cover, but I'll leave the

rest up to your discretion, Handleton.



Dave: Gotcha.



Gendo: Remember, the less anyone knows about you and NERV, the better.



[James, Ed, and Dave share and understanding glance.]



James: Fine with me.



Ed: Whatever.



Dave: Done and done and done.



Gendo: Questions?



James: Well, I used to be an engineer around here, so I'll be working

with Ed quite a bit. Since we're both in the area of security, that

wouldn't be suspicious, would it?



Gendo: (looks at Dave) Work on your job descriptions and come up with a

different reason. Something believable. It would be best if no-one knows

you work in that area as well.



James: Ahh, excellent.



Ed: Mecha?



Gendo: Excuse me?



Ed: What about building mecha? I've heard that NERV has it's own staff

for that. Would I be raising suspicions by building a few... test

models.



Dave: You'd raise suspicions going to the pop machines. Mr. Ikari, I

think we can work discretely enough.



Gendo: Then I see no reason why he can't.



Dave: (to Ed) You can't.



[Ed pouts.]



Dave: Do I get an office?



Gendo: If you can build one.



[Fade out on Dave's frown.]







[EXT. WIDE-ANGLE OVERHEAD OF A PLANE OF ICE - DAY.]



[We pull back to see James leaning out of a helicopter. The scenery is

somewhere in the North Pole--it being summer this time of year--and

James is dressed for the weather in a royal-blue arctic suit.]



[After a moment, he apparently sees what he's looking for and signals

'down' to the pilot, whom we can't see. The helicopter lowers and comes

to a stop slowly, only ten feet above the ground. James jumps off and

lands lightly on the hard ice. He steadies himself and stands, only to

suddenly fall flat on his ass.]



James: Damn, man. Why'd I have to come out here? 'It's _summer_ in the

Arctic Circle, James, you'll love it!' My ass. Lookit this place, it's

like my fridge, but with less food and no semi-intelligent descendents

of yogurt to converse with.



[James turns to the camera and gets to his feet. As he walks, the camera

follows. We are now in rant-to-the-audience mode.]



James: You see this place? (motions to the scenery) Beautiful, isn't it?

Not that I wouldn't mind a vacation, but this isn't exactly my idea of

fun. Sure, it's gonna be neat to bug Carrie, but I'd rather not have

such a push. What's the big hurry for, anyway? My sources say nothing

un-kosher is due for quite some time, and yes, I'm talking about our

little dinner conversation. I just don't get it. We could always wait

for her to come back down on her own. I hate it when Dave acts like he

can hide shit from me.



[He shakes his head, calling off the rant with the wave of one gloved

hand.]



James: I just hate it when this happens. It's been a bad week so far and

the rest doesn't look any better, that's all.



[Fade over to several hours later. James is walking into a small

encampmen. Curiously, no signs of heavy construction equipment are

abound, James takes notice of this and offers us a mini-rant.]



James: No big earthmovers or catapillars or anything like that. These

people aren't out looking for oil or crap like that. No boxes of

scientific gear either. No weapons, but I haven't started digging

yet. Final analysis: Mercs in training. It's time to say hello to our

first member from outside Japan.



[He waves the camera over to one of the tents, walking up to it.]



James: THE RUSSIANS ARE COMING!!!



[General Panic makes an appearance, as expected. People in white armor

pop out of the snow everywhere, some with green armbands, some with

red. It appears they have been playing a wargame of some kind to James,

but to the layman it just looks like a bunch of stormtroopers getting

ready for Christmas.]



James: (freaking out, pointing off in the distance) Egads! They've

already landed!!!



[A silence sweeps across the assembled before the sound of many guns

cocking echos over the wind-swept plain.]



James: Was it something I said?



Woman's voice: Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged in.



James: There aren't any cats in the Arctic, Carrie.



Carrie: (looks around, then shrugs) _You_ never had to make sense.



James: I'm not complaining.



Carrie: (mock shock) NO?!! Actually _NOT_ complaining?!! (a completely

fake 'I am soooo shocked' face overcomes her) LOOK! Everybody! He

_ISN'T_ _complaining_!!!



[James crosses his arms over his chest, frowns, then huffs indignantly.]



James: (flat tone) Ha. Ha.



[The soldiers look on expectantly, though we can't see that through

their helmets.]



James: ....... Ha.



Carrie: (flase cheer) C'mon, be a good sport!



James: Blood temperature must be above freezing for that, Carrie. It's

the first rule of villainy, you know.



Carrie: (waving him off) Right... right. Okay boys, drill's over. Put

it up and clean yourselves off. Magazine check in a quarter. Move it!



[The troops salute quickly, then perform a Chinese Fire Drill to get

to... well, wherever they do their important stuff.]



James: Cold... food.



Carrie: James, you act more and more like a cat every time I see you.



James: (smirks) Keep making comments like that and they'll become

self-fulfilling.



Carrie: Yeah? Well, I'm still pissed at you, so don't start that

cuddling crap or I'll have to pound your face in.



James: That deserves a retort, but my teachers said to save fighting

until after the food is presented.



Carrie: Oh, how curteous of them.



James: Not really. If the food comes out, kill your opponent and get

twice the grub. Of course, conventional rules state--



Carrie: (walking out of earshot) Whatever...



James: Err.... hey! I wasn't ranting, honest!



[James and the camera chase after her.]







[INT. CRAMPED ARCTIC BASE - SOME TIME LATER.]



[The base looks like bare metal on the inside, with numerous sensors and

electronic equipment attached to the walls. Among them are many smoke

detectors and pieces of a large fire suppression system--sure signs of

an enclosed environment. James and Carrie are wearing BDU pants and

short-sleeved shirts, sipping coffee at a small conference table. There

aren't many people around, and the place is relatively quiet.]



James: So...



Carrie: Don't start. What do you want?



James: We're forming a CT strike group for NERV. Heard of them?



Carrie: Yes, and I don't like them one bit.



James: Ah, something I too am not in the mood to discuss.



Carie: No.



James: You haven't even--



Carrie: (cutting him off) I don't have to. I know what you want and

you're not going to get it.



James: But this won't be like last time!



Carrie: (eyes go wide) Don't even TALK about 'last time'!



James: (head in hands) Oh dear...



Carrie: (icy voice) Since the world was all but destroyed and I was a

wanted woman--and not in a good way... I sold my skills out to the

highest bidder. I'm not happy about training young men to be ruthless

killers because that's all you bothered to teach me.



[James looks at Carrie. His eyes began to water. A Long Pause(tm)

ensues.]



Carrie: James?



James: I'm just so... so proud.



[Fade out as Carrie starts banging her head against the (steel) table.]







[EXT. A SMALL AIRFIELD IN THE ARCTIC - BRIGHT DAY.]



[James and Carrie, still in full cold-weather garb, are waiting for an

airplane. James seems to notice the camera after a minute and stops to

talk to it.]



James: (to audience) She was quite aggreable in the end. I just had to

promise not to start and elite group of assassins and then kill them

when I failed to teach them restraint.



James: (looks into the sky, his sunglasses glinting) It could have been

much worse... but this way is better...



[Cue flashback effects. We're in the meeting room again. The mugs of

coffee are much lower now, indicating some time has passed since the

first scene in this room.]



James: It's not like we want you to sign away your soul, that only

happens once you have tenure.



Carrie: I don't WANT tenure! Get out of here!



James: (Montana-Way) I'll call you!



[He runs into the nearest wall and collapses on the ground.]



[Cue transition effects...]



James: (rubbing forehead) Anyway, that one went pretty easy. She's

flying solo back to our temporary HQ. (pulls out a pocket computer)

Memo: build faster planes, soon. This sub-sonic shit is for the birds.



[Satisfied, James returns to what he was doing... standing around

doing nothing.]







[EXT. DIRTY CITY - AFTERNOON.]



[The smog is the same, the streets are cleaner, but this is still--]



James: Detroit. Damn, this brings back memories.



[He is dressed in his 'assassin' getup: a white wifebeater underneath a

red-and-black checkered dress shirt with an electric blue tie. The shirt

is left unbuttoned and the tie hangs loosely around his neck. Charcoal

slacks and slightly scuffled leather shoes complete the ensomble,

allowing him to look stylish, messed-up, and lethal all at the same

time.]



James: This is the right place...



[He looks at the run-down building in front of him. Despite the metal

doors and computerized security system, it still looks dirty and worn

out. For a moment, James' vision overlays a similar building, but one

made of brick, not industrial concrete. He shakes his head as if gently

chiding himself for something and knocks on the front door.]



[A wind mysteriously blows by...]



[And presently, he realizes the buzzer for the desired apartment. His

hand comes up, one finger hovering over the button, frozen in

place. Finally, James pulls his hand back and pulls out a tiny device,

palming it in one hand. He taps a few buttons and the front entrance

obligingly opens.]



James: (proverbing) Never go the mundane route when a more adventurous

path awaits.



[He walks in, a dramatic breeze rustling his coat this time.]







[INT. SMALL APARTMENT.]



[This is the place a man named Trey Jones calls home. It's comfortable

for one man, affordable, and a little messy. Messy, but clean. The man

himself is seated at a huge desk over-loaded with various electronic

equipment, reading a pile of computer print-outs. He grunts every now

and then, pausing to take notes as well. As he reaches for a can of beer

nearby, a knock is heard. The sudden noise breaks his concentration, and

the can goes tumbling to the floor.]



Trey: Aww, shit.



[Thankfully, the can is empty.]



Trey: (heading for the door with the can in hand) Hey, this was empty!



[He pulls open the door to see James in his wrap-around sunglasses with

a slightly testy expression on his face. Trey starts, an action which

causes James to silently smile a cold smile.]



Trey: Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too. How's Hell been?



[Trey is a match for James in everyplace but the looks area. While

James' face shows his english side, Trey looks like a wild cross of the

european nations blended together. Black hair and a wide, rougish grin,

which isn't around at the moment. Green eyes, like the warm Pacific

seas, and a sly look make him look downright dangerous.]



James: Cold. Very cold.



[Trey gestures for James to enter the apartment. The assassin complies,

giving the desk a glance before making a beeline for the kitchen.]



Trey: So--hey! That's lunch!



James: (from the fridge, which he is enthusiastically raiding) When we

get out of town, I'll take you to this little bristo, you'll love the

place.



Trey: Out of town? What the fuck did you do this time?!



James: I got hungry, came by...



[Trey folds his arms belligerently, giving James a damn good 'so what?'

look. For a while, the man in the coat ignores him, then comes out of

the fridge with a roll of summer sausage in one hand and a wedge of

cheese in the other. James then proceeds to ignore Trey's look anyway

and starts rooting through the cupboards.]



Trey: (coldly) Something I can help you with?



James: Need crackers.



Trey: (sighs) You aren't that hungry, are you?



James: Carrie wouldn't feed me.



Trey: (mildly shocked) She's alive?



James: Duh. It would take a little more than world devistation to get

her out of the picture.



Trey: Yeah, I guess it would. So, now that I have your full att--



[But James isn't listening to a damn thing Trey is saying, which Trey

isn't taking too well.]



Trey: HEY, I'M TALKING HERE!!!



James: (pops up from behind counter) Dude, I can hear you just fine.



Trey: Dude, look at me when I'm talking to you.



James: Get dressed.



[Trey glances at his grey slacks and wifebeater.]



Trey: We aren't going outside.



James: No, we aren't.



Trey: No? James, what have you done?



[James pulls off his sunglasses and comes around the counter to shake

Trey's hand.]



James: (officious tone) Congratulations: You're hired!



[Trey looks at James suspiciously, who starts to sweat.]



James: Uhh... what?



Trey: (throws his hands up) Fine. It's pointless to argue with you

sometimes.



[James puts his sunglasses back on, resuming his 'kick-ass and take

fingerprints assassin' look.]



James: (evil voice) You see the power of the Dark side...



Trey: (from bedroom) Cut that out, asshole.



James: We're burnin' daylight, man! Move out!



Trey: (to himself) Why me?







[EXT. TRAINYARD, NEW MEXICO - EARLY EVENING.]



[Stars sparkle above the horizon in this twilight scene. The trainyard

looks deserted at this hour, no lights or motion visible throughout the

dozens upon dozens of great metal boxes parked throughout the plain.

James and Trey come walking up the center of the area, looking as casual

as possible in their onimous black leather trenchcoats.]



Trey: This the place?



James: (gestures to the entire area) This is it.



Trey: I'm surprised there's so many.



James: It was quicker to run new rail than network roadways after SI.

Electrical power sealed the deal. Now most goods around the world are

moved by rail.



Trey: I know, I've heard it all before, but still... this _is_

impressive.



James: Let's start checking here and sweep east at ninety-degree

intercept.



Trey: Huh?



[James frowns at his partner, who is smriking knowingly. He then points

to the darker part of the horizon.]



James: We'll go that way, moron.



Trey: Whatever you say, nutcase.



James: That's my little omnivoid.



Trey: Omni-what?



[But in a swish of wind, James is already gone.]



Trey: Pussy.



James: Look! It's the Queen of the Boneheads.



Trey: ARRGH!!! You Rat-fucker!



[The wind blows again. Trey knocks loudly on the door of the nearest

car, then yanks on the latch--which doesn't give.]



Trey: Shit! John!!!



[He pulls harder, then bangs on the door again.]



Trey: (shrugs) Must not be home.







[Meanwhile, not far away, James is repeating the same basic process on

another run-down railcar. Curiously, this one makes a soft keening

sound. James, being an intelligent human being, realizes this is not the

kind of noise box cars should make when one bangs one' knuckles against

it's side.]



James: Hello?



[He knocks again, absently, but this time his fist strikes something

warm and none to soft.]



James: What the...?



[The creature holding the door open has the head of a crocodile and a

guant humanoid body covered in brown feathers. James blinks, looking at

the thing.]



James: Um... excuse me, sir...



[The creature shoves James out of the way and bolts into the night,

laughing manically.]



James: (brushing himself off) Well, that was... weird.



[Another figure bursts out of the railcar, this one also near-human in

form. A large, well-kept beard coveres most of it's face, and small beady

eyes poke out from underneath a large red bandana. It's body is built

like a tank, shorter than James by a head with a broad, iron-hard

chest. With arms like construction derricks and a wide cocky grin

plastered on it's face. After a second of meeting it's manic stare with

a clear gaze of his own, James blinks, recognizing his friend.]



James: John!



John: (shaking James by the shoulders) WHERE DID IT GO?!



James: What?



John: The Chipocabra!



James: Oh, it's long gone.



John: WHERE?!!



[James points in the direction of the earlier creature's departure.]



James: That way.



[John squints into the distance as Trey runs up to the pair, two

shotguns out and ready for action.]



Trey: Who? Where? Which body part?



James: It's John.



[Trey squints at the figure, who shrugs and jumps back into the train

without further word.]



Trey: Huh? Who?



James: (points) In the car. I'll get him.



[Trey nods and stands guard. James is about to pull himself into the

railcar when John comes jumping back out, right into James' arms. The

startled assassin catches John easily and the two pause for a moment.]



James: Going down?



John: Sure.



James: (dropping John) You've gained weight.



John: (holds up one arm) That's solid muscle, pal.



James: (also holds out his arm) Then throw me.



[John is the cobra, moving faster than the eye can follow, but James is

ever the mongoose, turing the Judo move against his friend and tossing

John to the ground.]



John: Damn, I thought I had it that time.



Trey: What's the bag for?



John: Oh, (holds up a small canvas sack) just my things.



(Trey nods and puts away the shotguns, making the large weapons

disappear into his coat with an ease that speaks of long practice.]



Trey: So, what are you doing out this way?



John: Finding some Chibocabras.



Trey: What?



James: The South American devils. A mountain legend of a creature that

steals cattle and frightens farmers. Forty years ago we'd call 'em the

US military. Dave said some reports were still going around, but...



Trey: I know what a Chibocabra is, James. John, did you say you were

finding them?



John: Yep.



[He opens the bag and holds up a fine Pentax camera. Trey nods

knowingly, then glances at James.]



James: (ceremonious arm waving) You're hired!



John: (grins) Great, what's the pay?



[James throws one arm over John's shoulders and one arm over Trey's,

then starts walking them off in a random direction.]



James: Let's figure that one out when you guys get to our headquarters.







[EXT. COASTAL CITY - EARLY MORNING.]



[It's just after dawn in a small cove on the West Coast, USA. The sun

sets lazily on the horizon, casting rays of gold, pruple, and pink

across the lightly clouded sky. It looks to be a beautiful day.]



James: (dead-flat monotone) This sucks.



[James is dressed in the ever-present trenchcoat and scowling at the

newly-rised sun. A cold wind blows in his face, the waves upon the silver

water in front of him seem to stretch into infinity. The dock he stands

on rocks gently with the marching waves.]



James: (to the camera) It's morning, it's cold, I'm unhappy. Kat had

better make this easy. I HATE mornings.



[It starts raining. James pulls a hood out from the collar of his coat

to avoid getting wet. The ice-cream cone which he has been cleverly

holding off-camera is shortly tossed to the sea.]



James: We commit this sweat cream to the sea, in the hopes our sugary

goodness might one day be returned, amen.



[He walks off the cold, lonely pier, and to the distant town, a sliver

of darkness upon grey.]







[EXT. BUSY STREET, COASTAL CITY - LATE MORNING.]



[We're on the main drag with James, who is looking in the window of an

old-fashioned taffy store, mesmerized by the intricate workings of the

taffy-pulling machine. Presently, a tall woman in a pair of jeans that

fit like they were sewed on her walks up behind James and chuckles

mysteriously.]



James: Huh?



Woman: (extra-cheery voice) GOOD MORNING!!!



[As James turns around slowly, a solid right hook slams into his check,

flinging him back against the glass storefront he was staring at just an

instant ago. James bounces off the glass and lunges at the woman with

inhuman speed. She easily sidesteps his charge, but is then flung into

the glass herself, face-first. Behind her, James sets his foot back on

the ground.]



James: Good Morning, Kat.



[He rubs his jaw. Kat turns around and rubs her nose. Neither looks very

hurt; every person within ten meters is staring at them.]



James: You're hired.



Kat: (snarls) Get out of here!



[James looks genuinely confused.]



James: Tsk, tsk. Why is everyone so NEGATIVE?!



Kat: Everyone?



James: (points at her) Just you and Sherridan.



Kat: You know, Carrie called and asked me to yank your head out of your

ass, tear it loose and mail it back to her in a small metal box with

some fava beans.



James: Very funny. (he pulls out a cell phone and throws it to her) Call

him. We're leaving.



Kat: (arrogantly drops the cell phone) Don't like the coast?



[James glares at her, somthing deep and evil smoldering in his eyes.]



James: We're going.



Kat: Something wrong?



James: ...



[Kat's eyes widen. In the glass pane behind her, we see the reflection

of a small guided missile heading right for them. James grabs Kat and

the whole street-front goes up in flames. From the roof of a low

building three blocks away, the pair watches a man dresed in urban

comoflauge {yes, there is such a thing} toss his stinger missile

launcher aside.]



[The camera fast-pans by many rooftops, and suddenly Kat and James are

standing behind the man, who's armed like a Marine despite the loss of

his rocket launcher. James' face is featureless as the void, and Kat

looks a the man as if sizing up a cockroach for her boots.]



Mercenary: Fuck!



[The man goes for his M-4 rifle, but James kicks it out of his hands,

then kicks the man off the roof, where Kat grabs him by the collar with

one hand. James and Kat then speak at the same time.]



James&Kat: Not on the first date.



[They then pause to glare at one another while the merc goes for his

pistol. Kat drops the man absently and leans away from the edge of the

roof. The silence between her and James lasts until there is a crunching

noise from below.]



Kat: Pervert.



James: Violent tomboy.



Kat: Around you, it's a way of life.



James: Riiight. Let's get off this roof.



[James jumps off the edge while Kat takes the stairs.]



James: Time to go. Call Sherridan.



Kat: Got a phone?



James: You dropped mine.



Kat: Go pick it up.



[James grabs Kat around the waist and dives behind the closest car. A

sudden burst of gunfire tears up the spot they were standing in.]



James: I'll be on top next time, you're heavy.



Kat: Thanks. What about the phone?



[Despite his claim, James easily picks her up in one hand and dashes to

the next car as the first one gets blown up. He then pulls out a small

black box.]



James: No problem.



[When he pushes the lone button on the box, their meeting palce goes up

in another explosion.]



Kat: The PHONE?!



[James pops up and uses a pair of semiautomatics to great effect. After

rapidly emptying both full cips at his targets, he drops back down and

reloads.]



Kat: (still shocked) You have a self-destruct device on the PHONE?!



James: (shrugs) It's a portable.



Kat: What did you bring for me?



[Bullets pepper this car.]



James: Shit, I missed one.



Kat: Thank you for being considerate.



[James hands her one of his pistols. Kat takes her turn, empying a full

clip at her target while James relaxes.]



Kat: You really know how to treat a lady, James.



James: Thank you.



[The pair stands. The street and anything still standing opposite them

is filled with watermellon-sized holes. Kat looks blankly at the pistol

James handed her, than at his twin gun.]



Kat: Did Ed load these?



James: Of course.



[Kat hands back his gun, no longer surprised.]



Kat: Home, then.



James: Good.



[Several blocks later, a large group of mercenaries come around the

corner to surprise them. As expected, James starts pointing and shouting

maniacally.]



James: There! THERE!!!



[The mercs hesitate, then seem to blink in unison, snapping out of a

trance.]



James: (doing Jedi hand movement) We're not the assassins you're looking

for...



Lead Merc: Yeah, right. DIE!



[Moments later, dead bodies surround them.]



Kat: You KNEW that wouldn't work!



James: (hand-wave brush-off) Details, details, details.



Kat: Jeeze!



[Several city blocks away, another explosion rocks the city.]



Kat: James, you know, if you weren't such a MORON, we wouldn't be in

this situation!



James: You had a better idea?



Kat: Maybe if I just pounded on you for a while...



James: Maybe if I locked you in a rubber-walled room for a while...



Kat: (rolling up her sleeves) Just try it!



James: (reaching into coat) I just MIGHT!



Sherridan: Children!



James: Sherridan!



Sherridan: James!



Kat: Honey!



Sherridan: Dear!



James: Shwing!



Kat: James!



James: Kat!



[Kat decks James.]



Sherridan: Ouch.



[James notices Sherridan's clothes are smoking and torn.]



James: Oh, sorry, dude.



Kat: Sorry, honey.



James: Any holes there?



Sherridan: Just fine. Kat, the bags are packed. We're leaving.



[Kat pouts.]



Sherridan: They just attacked the house.



Kat: (eyes go wide) What's left?



Sherridan: (sheepish) A few chunks of the driveway...



Kat: JAMES!!!



James: Hey--OW! How is this my fault?!!





----------



Title Flash:



SIDESTEP:EVANGELION

Episode 2: Memiors and Failures/

           Is That My Car or Yours?



----------





[INT. LARGE CONFERENCE ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON.]



[A large, utilitarian meeting table made of metal sits in the center of

a large conference room with a bay window overlooking Tokyo-3. A

construction crew is errecting a skyscraper in the distance. Dave sits

at the head, a pile of disorganized papers in front of him. Ed is

looking for something in his coat, a pile of gizmos, gadgets and

thingies in front of him.]



[Sherridan stands in the corner, looking across the room and out the

large window. Kat is mysteriously absent, but Sherridan looks like he's

eyeing the place for her arrival. John is freshly shaved and feeling the

wall up for... well, something. Trey, still in his coat, is sulking at

the table, occasionally glancing around the room.]



[Then the door bursts open, permitting the missing members to enter: Kat

and James. Kat just walks into the room casually, dressed in the same

clothes as we last saw her. James is in the Coat and picking at some

imaginary dust on his sleeve. They sit down and Dave calls the meeting

to order.]



Dave: Glad to see a sizeable portion of you are here.



James: ...



Dave: James, why are you smirking?



James: (puzzled) Smirking?



Ed: Insufferably smirking.



James: I'm not smirking intentionally.



Dave: Probably not. You got laid last night, didn't you?



James: Well, I guess the secret's out.



Dave: (shuffling papers) What secret?



James: Oops.



Ed: Can't you be a little more careful?



James: Careful?



Ed: Always letting some crucial piece of information slip through you

grasp at the worst possible time just isn't becoming of one of our top

agents.



James: And I suppose flinging continents into space will raise the

public's opinion of us?



Ed: It wasn't a continent, it was Texas! And it was an accident! AND, I

put it _back_!!!



James: Still...



Ed: Still what?



James: (shrugs, gestures incoherently) ...



Ed: WHAT?



James: (shrugs 'nothing') ...



Ed: (throws his hands up)



Dave: (nodds sadly) Well, Lisa should be showing up any minute now, and

Randy is busy with the U.N. General Assembly at the moment.



[Pause, blank stares around the table, except for James, who has become

bored and is fiddling around with a rubix cube.]



Dave: Oh... shit. I knew I forgot something. (he loudly clears his

throat) Ummm..... Randy is alive.



[As Dave nervously shuffles his papers, the doors bang open to reveal

Lisa in her fighting gi. James BOLTS from his chair to greet her.]



Lisa: James!



James: Lisa!



Lisa: Muchacho!



James: Senorita!



[Slap.]



Lisa: Jerk.



James: What the Hell was that for?!



[Slap.]



Lisa: You didn't come and get me.



James: Oh.... And what was THAT one for?!



[Slap.]



Lisa: Talking back.



James: Eh?



[Lisa hugs him.]



Lisa: It's good to see you.



James: (rubbing his cheek) I would have never guessed.



Dave: Now that we're all--



Miko: Am I late?



[Eyes swivel to Miko, wearing her college uniform. She's smiling

nervously, looking back and forth between James and Lisa.]



James: Hello, we're just getting settled. Pull up a chair.



[Presently, they are all seated.]



Dave: Now, I know this is all going to come as a shock to you, but we

haven't gathered here to kill anyone or knock out any para-governmental

agencies... yet.



James: Aww...



Dave: What I have here is a list of proper assignments, which I'll dish

out AFTER the meeting.



Trey: Then why are we here?



Dave: (folding his hands in front of his mouth onimously) Just to see if

I could do it.



Trey: Figures.



John: What's the pay?



Dave: You're all richer than Repulicans, so I don't see why you'd be so

concerned about pay.



John: So the cash isn't an issue?



Dave: The cash is not an issue.



John: Goody.



James: Well, since we're here to kill time, might as well sound off with

the assignments while I snooze.



Dave: Fair enough. Okay, we have no office, so that's our first order of

business. John, there have been some random threats coming in to

NERV. They have their publicity staff working on it now. Use your NERV

I.D. card and pretend that we don't exist. Standard squeeze deal. We

know more than they know.



John: Piece of cake.



Dave: Trey, you get to play truck driver. You have four hours to become

familar witht the military's large transport trucks. Carrie will fly the

C-199s if we need any.



Carrie: We're delivery people?



Trey: Could be worse, toots.



Carrie: Right, 'cowboy.' Dave, how about something a little less...



Dave: Boring?



Carrie: Demeaning?



Dave: I'll have Ed whip up some cool robotic suits.



[Carrie pouts, which she does surprisingly well.]



Dave: Okay okay, I'll hire some help, just not right now. I need you two

for some sensitive stuff, and I don't trust anyone else. You don't just

deliver; you gotta find it. Think you're up to that?



[Trey and Carrie look at each other, the cat and the goldfish.]



Dave: Good, now that's settled. James, Ed.



James: Hai!



Ed: Yeah?



Dave: Robot loading suits.



Ed: Like from 'Aliens'?



Dave: Exactly, but with a little more style. AND NO WEAPONS.



James: (raises hand) A suggestion here.



Dave: What?



James: If they get to grabbing sensitive shit from insensitive people,

it might be wise to carry protection.



Dave: You can't armor the bots because the transports need to carry

cargo, and that extra strength is enough of an advantage for those

two. No weapons.



James: Fine, fine.



Ed: RRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...



Dave: Getting back on track: Kat, Miko, Lisa, Sherridan?



[The four look at Dave.]



Dave: (holding out car keys) We do have fleet vehicles. After our tour,

tell James where you want our temporary parking lot. Then, get outside

and beat the streets. I want to know about every local legend in Tokyo-3

and I want to know it by this time tomorrow. And at _that_ time, you

four have some other assignments waiting.



[Everyone at the table trembles in fear as Dave chuckles in a perfectly

sane manner.]



Dave: (extra-cheery voice) Now, I hope everyone got some sleep, because

we are going for a _little_ walk!







[Freeze frame on the entire group exiting, looking quite dramatic and a

just a little bit worried.]



[Cue Metallica's "Better Than You" faintly in the background as the

narrator drawls on.]



NARRATOR: NEXT TIME, ON SIDESTEP:EVANGELION!



[Pan-away shot of an exposed elevator descending within a giant cavern.]



NARRATOR: A WALK THROUGH THE NEW BASE OF NERV...



[James in Gendo's small, cubicle-like office, looking quite aggitated.]



NARRATOR: SOME HISTORY BEHIND IT'S FORMING...



[Black-and-white shot: Kat and Lisa wearing Fedoras and trenchcoats.]



NARRATOR: AND OTHER USELESS FILLER CRAP!



[James' female form gives the camera a suggestive wink... a shame we

can't see the rest of her, because her shoulders are bare....]



NARRATOR: OKAY, [OKAY], MAYBE SOME FANSERVICE TOO....







                           [Ending credits:]



Ranting, Sidestep, lots of other stuff:

	Jared Waddell, HQ



Consulting:

	Insanity Productions Staff



Remarks:

	John Genoni, Pullman Branch



Nothing at all:

	Andy Mucha, Kennewick Bunker



Miko Mido is right out of the anime 'La Blue Girl'.



Tokyo-3 and all things and characters present regarding Eva are from

Neon Genesis: Evangelion.



No copyright infringement is intended. This work is copyrighted but

non-profit.



All other characters, unless noted, are copyright Insanity Productions.



Original characters created by Insanity Productions may be used in freely

in other non-profit works.



Special effects provided by Insanity Productions Technical Department.



And thank you, the reader, for... well, reading.







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