THE SHORT HOUR S1E1: Day Trip to the Hospital

I detested those movies. Especially the whole ARG thing that came with it. I can't believe they hijacked an actual station broadcast to promote that fictional "report." So sad. I hope that salarian gets what's coming to him.

Wait. Waaaait. MOVIE?!

That wasn't no goddamned movie, I heard about that on the news! Some batarian was talking about it?

What the hell is going on here?!

....
An ARG. What a fucking joke.

I'm so pissed right now I can't see straight.

I've got four eyes. This is what I call a problem.

The report wasn't fiction. There was no QOROQ movie. I was there. I-

No, y'know what? Fuck this galaxy. I'm getting drunk.

for doctor you pretty obtuse.

And now it’s time for Sing Along With Marz’Rah, in which Marz’Rah comes out and sings a song for the kids. Follow the bouncing ball, and sing along with Marz’Rah.

[If you never realized that an envirosuit could have tuxedo-like tails, then consider yourself schooled, as the eminently stylish Marz’Rah ascends his pedestal in a tastefully-darkened room. He adjusts his lapels and clasps his three-fingered hands behind his back.]

[Marz’Rah] “Good evening. Tonight’s selection is a tenor aria from Leoncavallo’s classic ‘Pagliacci’. Follow the bouncing ball, and immerse yourself in the pain of Canio, the wretched clown.”

[He stretches an arm out, the orchestra swells behind him, and the bouncing ball begins to scroll over the lyrics as a vibrant tenor bursts from the quarian’s throat.]

[Marz’Rah] ”VEEEEESTIIIIIIIII LA GIUUUUUUUBBAAAAAAAA---”

[With a crash, the orchestra goes discordant as the wall on the right of the screen bursts open, and an elcor wearing what appears to be a pair of strapped-on wings (it’s hard to tell with the dim lighting) crashes through, tackling Marz’Rah to the ground. The orchestra members scatter in terror, shouting and sending chairs askew.]

[?] ”What the fuck?! Why was the crane jacked up that high?”

[?] “Bewildered: I’m feeling disoriented. Confused: Wait, this isn’t the right set.”

[?] “Okay. I think he’s all right, hang on. Shit, the wall’s a total loss.”

[?] ”I told you seven times! Seven times that they were shooting Sing Along With Marz’Rah next door! Why does this always happen?!”

[?] “Concerned: Oh. Hello, Marz’Rah.”

[Marz’Rah] “...p...p-pip...pip.”

[?] ”Okay, somebody get the medics in here, we’ve gotta get this to the editing room in two hours. Urakh. Get on the writing staff, they said. It’s better than being in front of the camera drones, they said.”

[?] “Ah, just think, boss, you could’ve been the one that just got flattened.”

[?] ”...Point.”

[The silhouettes of medics begin filing in, and carry the stricken quarian away on a stretcher as several other figures help the winged elcor up.]

[?] “Concerned: Did we at least get the shot?”

[?] ”Yeah, but considering what just happened, I’m pretty sure ‘The Wedding of Grand Executor Il-Khan’ isn’t going to get over with the quarian demographic.”

[?] “We have a quarian demographic?”

[A pause.]

[?] “Oh. Right.”

[Fade out.]

This has been Sing Along With Marz’Rah, in which Marz’Rah comes out and sings a song for the kids. Tune in next time, assuming Marz’Rah recovers, and he’ll sing the Slave-Catcher’s aria from ‘The Wedding of Grand Executor Il-Khan’.

[?] ”Hah!”

[The screen is black. A somber, very melancholy violin dirge plays in the background. The screen gradually fades into a series of very powerful images. A graveyard. The ruins of palaven. A hospital ward. A single rose on a tomb. A crying child. A bereaved mother, being held back by security forces. A young turian holding a sign that says WHO WILL REMEMBER THE DEAD. A tear drop on a stained, hand-written letter. Rain in the night. A grey sunset. As you watch, a series of words slowly coalesce on the screen, fading in like the dreams of a forlorn angel.]

DDS.

WATCH IT OR WE’LL KILL YOUR FAMILY.

[The screen suddenly switches to Dwick and Terrorbyte yelling incomprehensibly at the camera, and everything goes black.]

This is th' weirdest show I ever done seen.

...Well.

That's certainly some rather ah, aggressive advertising.








And yet oddlycompelling.

And this is why we didn't give the krogan holovision when we uplifted them.

Unless we did, in which case ignore the joke.

... I should probably turn this off, but I can't stop watching...

Wait, wazzat a joke 'gainst th' krogan, salarian? What, y'think we ain't GOOD 'nuff fer holo?

Haven't seen enough to judge the species, but this particular krogan? Wheel no.

Well,

This network is making a very strong case that you aren't good enough for it.

I'm gonna make yew EAT them words, s'larian.

Somehow.

You could put them on paper and shove it down his throat.

Hopefully he can spell them right.

hey how about you fuck off

oh wait

salarian

ok, how about you go invent something no one cares about or devastate a species for a thousand years and some change

kirok rules.

SALARIAN!

SHUT UP!

I'm sure he'll do just fine.

[Hargh] “WELCOME BACK HARGH SHOW! CHOKE AND DIE!”

[The scene fades in to reveal an in-progress episode of the Hargh Show of Holovision. Behind his desk, as always, is Hargh, vorcha talk show host, and across his stage, occupying more of the couch than a healthy krogan would...]

[Hargh] “Again, this episode guest: Jorgal Dwick, CEO DDS MIA!”

[Dwick] “You know it! RAISE DAT ROOF, BITCHES!”

[Hargh] “This Dwick’s fourth episode on Hargh Show! He last longer than any other guest because eat boss mean Hargh fired!”

[Seated heavily on a chair next to Dwick’s couch is an enraged female krogan, clutching a swaddled infant in her arms. The vorcha audience boos and hisses.]

[Hargh] “If viewer just tune in, or viewer STUPID, STUPID, Dwick being sued for paternity again! This time Weyrloc Hong sue paternity! We run DNA test, top salarian scientists! They give results, or else DEVOURED BY VARREN!!!”

[A split-second cutaway to a group of haggard, emaciated salarians, dressed in dirty rags and chained by the ankles to microscopes. A vorcha stands by with three furious-looking varren on a leash, while the beasts snap and snarl at the terrified salarians.]

[Hargh] “Scientists run DNA test as Hargh speak! Weyrloc Hong, give testimonial!”

[Weyrloc Hong] “He...he looked three hundred pounds lighter in the dark.”

[Dwick] "Welllll, I have been on a diet since ‘den, I s’pose. Heh heh heh.”

[Hargh] “How you know Dwick father Lil’ Dwick? HARGH ASK HARD-HITTING QUESTIONS!”

[The krogan woman wordlessly holds up her baby. It is morbidly obese and has a considerable overbite.]

[Hargh] “.......”

[A long pause. At last:]

[Hargh] “....Evidence considerable! Hargh poll audience! Audience, who like soda?”

[Portion of Audience] “YES!”

[Hargh] “Excellent! When show return, DNA test! Dwick have to pay child support?”

[Dwick] [Through the cheering] “Aww, you’d make me go ‘troo dat again?!”

[Hargh] “Or Hong eaten by...BLOOOOOD PAAAAAAAAAACK?!?”

[Weyrloc Hong] “Wait, what?! Nobody said anyth--”

[Audience] “BLOOD PACK, BLOOD PACK, BLOOD PACK, BLOOD PACK”

[Hargh] “We see! Show leave for ads! STAY TUNED!!!”

[Fade out.]