Pandemic/Script

[South Park Mall, day. The boys wait for Kenny, who is coming out of Walstien's with his purchase. Once he arrives, the boys move out into the open mall area and turn left] Kyle: I don't get it, Kenny: why do you buy razors and shaving cream? Kenny: (Hey dude, I like to shave my balls) Cartman: Shave your balls? Why would you shave your balls? Kenny: ('Cause girls like shaved balls) Kyle: Girls like shaved balls? Kenny: (Yes they do.) Cartman: What girl is gonna see your balls? Kenny: {Well I don't know.} [Something grabs Stan's attention and he stops and looks to his right.] Stan: [pissed off] Oh Jesus, there's another one! [the other boys stop and look. A Peruvian pan flute band plays and draws a small crowd] Another pan flute band! Have you guys noticed there's bands like this everywhere you go lately? [the band has a bombo drummer, a siku player, and two charango players] Cartman: Yeah I saw like three of those bands down in Denver yesterday. All their crappy music sounds the same. Stan: I'm so sick of hearing this music everywhere I go! Kyle: I think Kenny likes it. [Kenny's groovin' to the music] Stan: [turns left and leaves] I gotta get home for dinner. Cartman: [follows] Yeah, me too. [Kyle follows Cartman and Kenny keeps dancing.] [South Park Mall, exterior. The boys exit the mall. Kenny catches up to them. The camera pulls back to reveal another band] Stan: [pumping his fists] GOD! Cartman: Shut up already! Stan: I'm outta here; see ya guys. [leaves. Kyle and Cartman follow and Kenny dances again] [Stan's house, night. He walks in through the front door and to the sofa, where he finds Shelley watching TV] TV: Tonight, the Travel Channel takes you to London! [the London skyline is shown. A British flag floats across the screen] London has something for everyone! Sights! [a pillar topped by a statue] Theater, and wonderful street performers! [the picture pans down to reveal a pan flute band playing to the crowd] Stan: They're in London too? Sharon: Hey, time for dinner guys. [Shelley turns off the TV and joins Stan to the dining room] [The dining room. Sharon arrives with a bowl of fruit as Stan and Shelley take their seats on either side of the table. Sharon has already set their meals on the table. Today's meal? Potatoes au gratin.] Sharon: All right kids, dig in. Stan: Where's dad? Sharon: [irritated] He's upstairs videotaping your grandfather in the bathtub. Stan: Why? Sharon: Because ever since your father got that stupid video camera he thinks he has to film everything the family does. Randy: [arrives and starts shooting] All right, here we are. Marsh family gathered for another dinner. [moves around to Stan's side of the table, shooting video all the while] Sharon: Randy, we have plenty of video of us eating dinner. Randy: [points the camera at Shelley] There's Shelley. You escited about eating dinner Shelley? Shelley: Turn it off, Dad! Randy: [swoopts around to Shellley's side to get a better shot] Oh look! Stan's eating a tater-tot! Wave to the camera, Stan. [takes a quick look at the screen attached to the camera, to adjust the aim. A second later and pan flute music is heard. Stan looks around and locates the source. He walks to a front window and sees a pan flute band playing across the street. In front of them is a briefcase full of CDs] Stan: Oh Jesus Christ! [Randy walks up behind him with the camera] Randy: Ohhh neato, it's one of those Peruvian pan flute bands. Stan, go out and stand with them. I can get a shot. [Stan just glances at him] [Kyle's house, next day. Kenny and Cartman are with him playing Candyland on the living room floor] Cartman: I will play this card to move Kyle back seven spaces... [moves Kyle's piece back seven spaces and softly says] ...screw you Kyle. [normal voice] Aaand all right, your turn, Kenny. [tosses the dice to him] Stan: You guys! You guys, check this out: I saw another Peruvian flute band outside my house last night. Cartman: So? Stan: So-so I just sat there and watched them for a while and, guess how much money they made selling their crappy CDs? Cartman: How much? Stan: Over two hundred bucks. Kyle: Two hundred dollars? Cartman: Really? Are you sure? Stan: Yeah dude, I'm- I'm starting to realize that it's like the easiest job in the world. You know/ I mean, we could do that! [the other boys stay quiet] Kyle: ...Become a Peruvian flute band? Stan: Yeah, why not? We get some instruments and some customes and then... make some crappy pan flute music CDs on my computer. Cartman: [stands up] Oh my god. We're gonna make so much fucking money you guys. Stan: Yeah! Kenny: (Woohoo!) Kyle: But where are we gonna get the money to buy costumes and and the instruments? [the boys give it some thought] [Craig's house, moments later. The foursome are at the front door ringing the doorbell. The door opens and Craig appears] Cartman: Craig, dude, how're you doing, bro? Craig: ...Fine. Cartman: Kewl, awesome. Um, Craig, remember how you were tellin' us how your grandma gave you a hundred bucks for your birthday? Craig: ...Yeah. Stan: Craig, how would you like to turn that hundred dollars into a thousand dollars? [Craig stays quiet, so Cartman prevails upon him and enters his house] [Craig's living room] Cartman: Come on in, Craig. Have a seat. Welcome. Craig: What do you guys want? Kyle: [enters with Stan and Kenny] Craig, we have chosen you to join our Peruvian flute band! Cartman: [applauds] All right Craig! [pats him on the back] Craig: You mean like those guys you see at all the tourist spots? Stan: There's a reason they're everywhere, Craig: because they make bank! We just need your money to buy instruments and make some CDs. Cartman: And we'll double your money in one afternoon, Craig. Craig: [assessing the situation] You guys never hang out with me. You never invite me to do stuff. But now you want me to be in a band with you because my grandma gave me a hundred dollars. Cartman: Craig, don't be an asshole. Craig: [turns right and walks past Cartman] I'll go get the money. [the boys grin. Stan and Kenny high-five each other.] [South Park Mall, day, by the fountain. The five boys now gather in their costumes with their instruments. Cartman plays the siku, Stan and Kyle play charangos, Kenny plays on a home-made bombo while Craig has a new stringed instrument] Stan: All right guys, just like we rehearsed it. You ready Craig? All right, let's jam! Cartman: And a one, and a two, and a- [the boys launch into their rendition of "Mary Had A Little Lamb"] Man 1: Wow, that's such cultural music. Man 2: Very cultural, yes. Cartman: [as the men leave] Por favor, buy our CDs de musica. [in their briefcase are $10 CDs from their band, the Llama Brothers, "Tapas and Moonscapes." Man 1 whips out a fresh $10 bill and buys a CD] Kyle: Gracias. Woman 1: [walks by and stops to check out the CDs] How cultural. [buys one for herself] Kyle: This is awesome! Stan: Ya see, Craig? [another band starts up nearby and Stan steps forward for a better look. The boys look to their right] Cartman: Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey! [leads the other boys to the competing band] Stan: Ey you guys can't play here. We were here first. [the other band ignores them and continues playing] Cartman: No trabajar aqui! Vaya! No pleya la musica en la promenade! No es bueno! Stan: This is our Peruvian flute band's turf, you got that?! [the other band looks at them for a few seconds, then resumes its music, its members grinning.] Kyle: God damnit! Cartman: No! No es bueno! [grabs the siku and throws it away. The band stops playing. The siku player looks at his empty hands and goes after the siku] Stan: Come on, guys. [the boys return to their spot and start playing again, but another band begins to play off to their left] Stan: Jesus Christ! Cartman: No, no es bueno! No trabajar aqui! [U.S. Department of Homeland Security] Michael Chertoff: Ladies and gentlemen, our world is facing an economic and ecological crisis of disastrous proportions. I'm talking of course about Peruvian flute bands. [the audience members begin to talk amongst themselves. Chertoff activates the screen behind him, and a world map appears onscreen.] The red dots indicate where the highest concentrations of Peruvian flute bands are. All over the world, wherever there are tourists or shoopers, there are now, on average, 65 Peruvian flute bands per square kilometer. General? Chief Aide: [walks into view before the screen] France, Japan, and the northeastern United States are currently the hardest hit. Make no mistake: [sticks an index finger up] this is a pan flute epidemic. Senator 1: A pan-demic? Michael Chertoff: Three countries in Asia and seven in Europe have already asked for our help in getting rid of their Peruvian flute bands. We will need every resource available to see this through. Senator 2: Excuse me, but... aid other countries? Michael Chertoff: Senator? Senator 2: With all due respect we need to be dealing with our own pan flute bands! Let other countries fend for themselves! Michael Chertoff: [starting soft and with rising voice, he leaves the podium and faces the senator] You heartless bastard! This country was founded on beliefs in freedom and integrity! And we will NOT sit back and do nothing while less fortunate countries are ravaged by Peruvian flute bands! Is that clear?! [the senator collapses back into his seat and begins to cry and Chertoff returns to the podium] As director of Homeland Security, I am taking control of the military until the crisis is contained. [South Park Mall, day. The third Peruvian flute band continues to play and a woman stops by. She begins to dance. Some helicopters are heard and one appears over the crowd.] Paratrooper: Go, go! [all kinds of law enforcement and military vehicles rush in and surround the mall. Hazmat officers pour out of a Hazmat truck. Inside, the boys now play "Three Blind Mice." A woman stops by and buys a CD. The boys hear some commotion and look over: military troops surround the second band and subdue it] Cartman: Ha! [sticks his right middle finger up] Serves you right, assholes! [behind them the third band is subdued] Soldier 1: One more over here! [the boys are surrounded and subdued] Soldier 2: Let's go! Get 'em out! Soldier 3: Clear out, move! This is a Homeland Security operation, people, let's go! Stan: Hey, back off! Soldier 3: Make sure all pan flute music CDs are contained! [Hazmat officers collect the CDs slowly, gingerly] [Stan's house, day. Randy is in the living room taking more video of Sharon and Shelley while they sit on the sofa.] Randy: There's Sharon and Shelley. They're watching some television. Wave to the camera, Shelley. [neither female responds to him] What are you watching, guys? Sharon: [irritated] The news. Randy: [draws even closer to her] Huh? Sharon: [irritated] We're watching the news. Randy: [turns the camera towards the TV] That's the TV in our living room, still showing commrecials right now. [moves around to Shelley's side] What do you think about the television, Shelley? [Shelley remains quiet as Randy glances at the TV] Oh, the news is starting! [starts taking video of that] [CNN Breaking News] Anchorman Tom: The government efforts to stop the Peruvian flute band crisis are now in their third day. [Times Square in New York is shown, with more bands being arrested] In cities all over the world [a shot of St. Louis] flute bands have been removed and quarantined. [a shot of Seattle] But more may still be out there. Homeland Security's requesting that [a graphic appears that says pretty much the following] if you see a Peruvian flute band, do not approach it. Mark down the flute band's location, and do not, under any circumstances, buy their CDs. [the reporter reappears onscreen] The flute bands that have been contained are being taken to a quarantined area in Miami. [Peruvian Flute Band Internment Camp, brought to you by the Department of Homeland Security, in Miami. More Peruvian bands join the already large crowd of bands there. The boys are among them.] Stan: Eh-excuse us. Hello? [spots a soldier in one of the watchtowers] Uh excuse me. Sir? Sir, there's been a misunderstanding. Can, can I talk to you for a minute? Kyle: Sir? Sir, can we talk to you for just a second? Guard: Get back! I'm not buying any of your damned CDs! Stan: No. Sir, there's been a biiig misunderstanding. We actually aren't a Peruvian- Guard: I said I'm not buying any Goddamned CDs today, you got that?! I'm sick of it! A Musician: [walks into view] Señor? Comprar CD la musica? [the soldier kills him with a few blasts from his automatic rifle] Kenny: (Jesus Christ, he fucking shot that guy!) [Peruvian Flute Band Internment Camp, that night. The Peruvian flute bands play, and trashcans have been set ablaze to keep them warm. The camera pans to the boys, who sit around a small campfire moping around] Craig: "Ey, Craig. You know that money your grandma gave you for your birthday? How would you like to invest in a Peruvian flute band? You can double your money in one afternoon. Come on, Craig, don't be an asshole." [some alarams go off for a few seconds, then fall silent as Chertoff appears above the crowd with a blond translator to his left] Michael Chertoff: Attention Peruvian flute bands: Translator: Atencione bandas de flauta Perú. Michael Chertoff: We appreciate your cooperation and patience. Translator: Cooperacion y peciencia es apreciado. Michael Chertoff: Tomorrow you will be boarding ships... Translator: Mañana sera el embarque de barcos... Michael Chertoff: ...which will take you to Guantanamo Bay. Translator: ...que la lleva a viajar Guantanimo. Michael Chertoff: There you will spend the rest of your lives. Translator: Donde pasar el resto de sus vidas. Gracias! [they turn and head inside. The Peruvian flute bands break up behind the boys and head back to their business] Kyle: Guantanamo Bay?! We can't go to Guantanamo Bay! Stan: Don't worry you guys. I'm sure our parents are freaking out right now trying to find us. [The Marsh house. Craig's parents are seated on the sofa. Kyle's parents and Sharon are standing.] Sharon: Please, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker, our boys were last seen hanging out with your son Craig. Do you have any idea where they could've gone? Mrs. Tucker: No, I'm telling you. This isn't like Craig at all. I'm really worried. Mr. Tucker: You've checked with the police? Gerald: Nobody know anything. It's li-it's like the boys just vanished! Sharon: None of the other kids have seen them since a- [notice Randy taping them] Randy, will you put that thing down?! What is wrong with you?! Our son is missing! Randy: Hey, I'm worried about him too, Sharon. Sharon: Well then stop being an idiot and help! Mr. Tucker: Maybe the boys all ran away. Were any of your boys upset about anything? Gerald: All we know is they were seen hanging out with Craig and now they're gone. Sheila: That's exactly why I told Kyle not to hang around that boy. Mrs. Tucker: What is that supposed to mean? Sharon: To be honest, Mrs. Tucker, we think Craig is bad influence on our boys. Mrs. Tucker: [quiet for a few seconds] Now wait just a minute! Sharon: I'm just saying that your son has some problems a- Mr. Tucker: Like every kid doesn't have some problems! Sheila: Obviously Craig has gotten them into some kind of trouble. Mrs. Tucker: Oh my God! Mr. Tucker: This is ridiculous! Randy: [filming the argument] Ohhh this is good! Gerald: That's not ridicul- [Peruvian Flute Band Internment Camp, day. Michael Chertoff stands among some soldiers and DHS officials] Soldier 4: Sir, good news! Looks like we did it. Every major city is reporting zero Peruvian flute bands. We got 'em all! [other soldiers cry out "All right! We did it!"] Michael Chertoff: Calm down people, we still have work to do! We have to take out the place these flute bands came from so they never come again! Official 1: We don't know where they came from, sir. We... we've been researching, but we... can't figure it out. Michael Chertoff: Well think about it, idiot! Where else would "Peruvian" flute bands come from? [everyone else mulls it over] Official 1: Hmm... Michael Chertoff: The country is in the name! Official 2: No. Sir, we checked the entire map. There isn't a country called Peruvian anywhere. Michael Chertoff: Not Peruvian, retards, Peru! It's right here! [points to the country on a world map] Official 3: Peh-roo. Michael Chertoff: Now I want a plan in place to take out Peru once and for all! Official 1: Is that really necessary, sir? It seems a little extreme. Soldier 2: Yeah. Michael Chertoff: Peruvian flute bands will never stop annoying us [pounds his right fist onto his left palm] unless they are stopped at the source! Chief Aide: Sir, you'd better come quick. One of the pan flute bands was caught trying to escape. Michael Chertoff: [grabs Official 2 by the front of the shirt] See? [lets go and leaves] God damnit! [they higher officials walk out behind him] [The interrogation room, moments later. Chertoff and his chief aide are grilling the boys, who are seated in a row behind a table. Two top officials stand out of the way nearby] Michael Chertoff: [holds the CD the boys were carrying] The Llama Brothers: Tapas and Moodscapes. Stan: This is a mistake, sir, we aren't really a Peruvian flute band. Michael Chertoff: Right. You just play pan flute music at the mall and sell CDs of you with a llama, but you're not a Peruvian flute band. Stan: We... wewe're just kids, you know? We, we were just trying to make some money. Kyle: We just wanna go home. Kenny: (Sir, please, I have to get back to my ???) Michael Chertoff: Which tourist location were they playing at? Chief Aide: An outdoor mall in Colorado. Kyle: Look, we're from Colorado! We, we grew up in the United States. Stan: We we speak English! Cartman: And we're White. Michael Chertoff: Let me talk to you guys out here. [takes his chief aide and the two other officials into the observation room and closes the door.] Well what do you think? Chief Aide: I don't know what to make of it sir. It's like nothin' I've ever seen before. Clearly they are a Peruvian flute band and yet they... aren't. They play pan flute music like the others, but they talk and act like ...one of us. Michael Chertoff: I agree. They're obviously some kind of... hybrid. Official 1: A hybrid? Ah how is that possible? Chief Aide: Perhaps a Peruvian flute band mated with one of our females. Who knows? Michael Chertoff: Well however they came to be, they're about the only piece of good luck we've had. [walks to the one-way window] Official 1: Sir? Michael Chertoff: If they are the hybrid we're talking about, [puts his left arm up high against the window and presses his head against that] then they could be our way of taking out Peru once and for all. [The interrogation room. The boys wait for the officials to return] Craig: Do you guys know why nobody else at school likes hanging out with you? [the other boys look at each other] Because you're always doing stuff like this. You're always coming up with some stupid idea to do something, and then it backfires, and then you end up in some foreign country, or in outer space or something. That's why no one likes hanging out with you guys. Cartman: You're being extremely negative, Craig. [Chertoff and the others return] Michael Chertoff: [approaches the boys] All right, here's the deal: Maybe you are on our side and maybe you aren't, but if you help us... we'll get you home. Stan: Help you how? Michael Chertoff: [walks around the table and the boys] You're able to walk among the Peruvian flute bands. They see you as one of them. We are going to send you to their Capital. Craig: Can we please just go home, sir? Michael Chertoff: [drops the CD onto the table] We still don't know whose side you're on! You do this, and we'll know! You leave for Peru in the morning. Kyle: No! No, I'm not going to Peru! Not Peru! [almost falls apart, but Stan grabs him and holds him in place] Stan: Kyle, calm down. Kyle: You know I can't go there, Stan! Stan: One of our friends was raped in Peru. It was very traumatic. [the officials look at each other] Michael Chertoff: You don't have a choice! Either you go to Peru, or you get locked up forever with the other flute bands. Soldier 3: Thompson, can you come over here? [the translator from earlier walks up to him] The flute band players won't shut up about something and I can't understand them. Musician 2: ¡Por favor! ¡No podemos ir! ¡Estamos aquí para proteger a ustedes! Musician 3: Sí. Other Musicians: Sí. No podemos ir. Si, protectores. Thompson: They're saying something like, "You can't send us away. We are the protectors." Soldier 3: Protectors from what? Musician 2: ¡La muerte peluda! ¡La muerte peluda! Soldier 3: What does that mean? Thompson: I think he said, "the furry death"? Musician 2: La muerte peluda. ¡La muerte peluda! [CNN Breaking News] Announcer: [gruffly] This is CNN. Anchorman Tom: The last of the Peruvian flute bands have successfully been eradicated from every part of the world. Paul Harris is at the shopping promenade and Paul, pretty nice not having any Peruvian flute music there, I suspect. Paul Harris: Really welcome silence, Tom. There hasn't been a Peruvian pan flute band in sight for days now, and everyone is really emjoying the peace. The world can breathe a collective sigh of relief now as we thank the- [a low moan is heard and a heavy footfall shakes the ground. The camera looks around for the source of the shaking] What the?! [an explosion has the camera focus on the resulting burst of fire] Woman 2: [voice only] Oh my Gohhhd! Woman 3: [voice only] Ohmigod! [a police car flies through the air from the direction of the blast.] Paul Harris: Jesus Christ! [the police car lands between him and the water fountain upside down. Harris ducks down] Shopper: AAAAHHH!! [Harris gets up again and looks at the damage] Paul Harris: There's, there's something else here, it's... [the camera switches to the police car again] It's not a Peruvian flute band, it's a... Oh my God what is that thing?! [points to the sky, but the camera doesn't follow it] Anchorman Tom: Paul Paul, what do you see? Paul Harris: It's furry! It's very furry! [the transmission flickers, then fades out] Anchorman Tom: Okay obviously something different has uh shown up a-... Did he say "furry"? [instantly another heavy footfall rattles the CNN newsroom and shorts out several monitors. Reporters and other worker scatter around] Okay uh we're we're experiencing some uh- [a second footfall shuts down the newsroom entirely and tilts the camera one way, but it's still airing. A third footfall tilts the camera in another direction and the roof is peeled back. A shaft of light strikes Tom's head as he looks up into the night] My God what is that thing?! [a fourth footfall tilts the camera down and in still another direction. Tom is lifted into the air...] AAAHHH!! [...and the camera finally stops transmitting, leaving behind an image of static, then nothing.] [The sky, night. A military airplane take to the air. Inside, the four boys sit on chairs in one side of the cabin. The pilot peeks in and then walks towards them.] Pilot: All right, we're about 800 kilometers from Peru. There'll be a truck to take you inside the border where you're briefed on mission specifics. [walks backwards into the cockpit and closes the door. The boys say nothing for a while] Craig: Was there ever a moment when you guys first came up with the genius plan to become a Peruvian flute band that any of you said "Hey, you know? This plan might backfire." [no answer] No, that never occurred to you. Because you guys are jerks. And you never learn from your mistakes. And that's why everyone at school thinks you guys are assholes. Kyle: That's not true. Kids at school like us. Don't they? Stan: Yeah dude, kids at school totally like us. Craig is just being a dick because we're having a tough time right now. Craig: [testing] I'm being a dick. Stan: [firmly] Yes. Craig: You guys took my birthday money, got me arrested and sent to Miami with no way home except to take down the country of Peru, and I'm being a dick. Cartman: There's no talking to this guy. Stan: All right, fine, Craig. When we get back home we'll get you your money back, and we'll never talk to you again. How's that? Craig: That would be great. Thank you. Kyle: This is wrong. Uh this just doesn't make any sense. Why would Homeland Security send us into Peru? Kenny: (Because they have us to kick out again?) Kyle: AhI don't know, it just feels like... there's got to be something else going on here. [Stan's house, night. Sharon is talking to someone on the phone] Sharon: Please, I don't know where else to turn. The police haven't been any help, ugheh, I thnk our boys might really be in trouble this time. Yes. Yes. Please, check and call me right back. Thank you. [*click* She notices that Randy videotaped the call] Randy I swear to God if you don't put that thing away...! Randy: Sharon, you're gonna be really glad I have all this footage of the family someday. Sharon: [the scene continues with this POV] I mean it Randy that's enough!! You don't have to videotape every single-!! [a low moan is heard. She stops and looks around, getting more afraid with each moan] Randy: What the hell was that? [a heavy footfall shorts out the house] Sharon: Oh my God. Randy: Something's going on outside! Stay, stay here! [turns around and runs out] Shelley: [coming down the stairs] What's going on, Dad? [Randy wheels around to see her] Randy: Get back to your room, Shelley! [''turns around and goes to the front door. He opens it and sees people running all over the street in a panic, He then points his camera at some helicopters overhead''] [On the street. Randy steps out of the house and runs into Mr. Garrison.] Randy: What's going on? Mr. Garrison: They're all over the place! Randy: What are?! Mr. Garrison: They're really furry! [''runs off. Randy joins the others out on the street. He hears someone above him and points the camera to catch a man falling from the sky. A chunk of his body has been bitten off, exposing ribs on the right side''] Randy: What did that?! [''moves his camera off the body and sees more people running. A giant guinea pig appears among the panicked residents''] What is that thing?! [''someone taps him from behind and he turns around to see who it is. Officer Barbrady appears on camera''] Officer Barbrady: Mr. Marsh, you have to move! It isn't safe to be here! [''a house blows up and Randy starts running, his camera aimed at his feet. He aims his camera forward again and sees people rounding the corner and running his way. Linda Stotch is one of them.''] Linda: AAAAAAAAH!! [''Two heavy footfalls follow and a car flies through the air from left to right. Another giant guinea pig walks along the crossroad towards the mangled car''] Randy: Oh my Gohhhd! Chris: [getting Randy's attention] Go go go go back the other way! [''Randy runs back along the street, the camera again aimed at his feet. He stops and aims the camera at himself''] Randy: [out of breath] Oho, oh God, oh God, oh God. [pants] Oh God. [pants] I'm [pants] I'm so [pants] Startled. A Woman: [voice only] Oh my Gohhhd! [Randy stops panting and looks to his left.] Randy: HAAA! [A growl is heard and all of a sudden his camera goes dark.] [The Department of Homelandn Security Headquarters. Michael Chertoff is back in the auditorium looking at the world map] Chief Aide: [entering] Sir? We've got a bigger problem. Michael Chertoff: [smiles knowingly] Oh? And what might that be? Chief Aide: New reports are coming in from cities all over the world. Word of massive destruction and death by what ap-pear to be... [Chertoff turns around and smiles at him] Michael Chertoff: [hiding a folder behind his back] Guinea pigs? Chief Aide: [softly] Yes sir. How did you know? Michael Chertoff: You were so close to figuring it all out, Davis, did you know that? Davis: Sir? Michael Chertoff: I really thought you had me in Miami, but you just couldn't quite put the pieces together. Davis: You... You... knew this was going to happen. Michael Chertoff: Oh, this is only the beginning, Davis, and I can't let you interfere. [''his face becomes monstrous. His tongue shoots out and stabs Davis in the right eye. Davis goes into convulsions for a long time, but finally dies..Chertoff releases his tongue's grip and it goes back into his mouth''] Sorry my friend, but I've worked too hard to make all this happen. The pan flute bands are on their way to their deaths, the guinea pigs are rising, and the only preson who could have stopped all this... is on his way to the middle of nowhere. [''he looks at the folder he had behind his back. Attached to it is a picture... of Craig''] [End of Pandemic.]