Three Hundred and Fifty Dollars

Link to article: Three Hundred and Fifty Dollars.

div#extra-div-1,div#extra-div-2{display:none;}

(none)

(none)

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:black-highlighter-theme]]
[[include :scp-wiki:theme:expose]]
[[module css]]
div#extra-div-1,div#extra-div-2{display:none;}
[[/module]]
 
[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/>]]

[[=]]
> **« [[[safety-reasons| Act II - Scene I]]]** | **[[[demasqed| Demasqed]]]** | **[[[meme-culture| Act II - Scene III]]] »**
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++ Act II - Scene II
[[/=]]

//Interior of jail, with same props and setup as Act I Scene VI. Jazz is standing out of her cell, directly next to the door. In her hand is a phone with a cord, connected to a box with a numerical keypad. Standing next to Jazz, watching her intently, is the police officer from earlier, who is holding the aforementioned phone box. Jazz looks distressed. She enters a phone number into the keypad, and holds the phone to her ear.//
[[=]]

JAZZ
Come on... come on... pick up...

POLICE OFFICER
//(tired)//
Look Korbachev, I really don't think he's gonna pick up. You've tried three times now. Come on, let's get you back to your cell.

JAZZ
//(distressed)//
No! One more time! One more try, he will pick up! He has to!

POLICE OFFICER
//(tired)//
I... you know what, fine, but this is the last one, understand me?

JAZZ
Yes, thank you, thank you!

[[/=]]
//Jazz enters the phone number again, and holds the phone to her ear, desperately hoping for a response. Just as it seems like there won't be one, we hear a low-quality crackle.//
[[=]]

BRIMLEY
//(yawning)//
Yo, who is this?

JAZZ
Oh my god, Brimley? Is that you? It's me, Jazz!

BRIMLEY
//(extremely tired)//
Jazz... what're you doing out so late? Got some sorta secret work meeting?

JAZZ
I... I'm in jail, Brimley. Did you not get my voicemail? It was probably the only one from the fucking state prison!

BRIMLEY
//(extremely tired)//
Yo, you expect me to check my voicemail?

JAZZ
That's all you're going to say? You're not at all phased by the fact that I just told you I'm in jail?

BRIMLEY
//(extremely tired)//
Babe, I'm like three quarters asleep right now, I've got no idea what's going on.

JAZZ
Just... listen, my... my boss managed to pull a few strings and they posted my bail for only 350 dollars, I need you to come pay it and pick me up.

BRIMLEY
//(slightly less tired)//
Three hundred and fifty bucks? What for?

JAZZ
For getting me out of jail! Are you not listening?

BRIMLEY
//(tired)//
I'll see if I can pull together some extra money in the morning, babe. I gotta get back to sleep.

JAZZ
Brimley, wait! You're not coming to get me?

BRIMLEY
I will, just... it's a lotta money.

JAZZ
//(pissed)//
Yeah well how about 'I'm your girlfriend'? I'm not worth three hundred and fifty dollars to you? This isn't for some pretty necklace I saw in a store, I am incarcerated!

BRIMLEY
I don't have that kinda money at freakin... whatever time it is.

JAZZ
It's not even 9 PM... have you been out drinking?

BRIMLEY
Tim's son had a recital.

JAZZ
That doesn't answer... why were you at Tim's son's recital? You know what, forget it. Just forget it. 

BRIMLEY
//(yawning)//
I already did.

JAZZ
//(through angry tears)//
I'll see you tomorrow morning.

BRIMLEY
Kay, night. Get home safe.

[[/=]]
//Jazz, wiping her tears with her arm, stares blankly forwards. Without moving her head, she hands the phone to the police officer, who places it on the box, and opens Jazz's cell doors. She ushers Jazz inside, and locks it, before walking away. Jazz climbs into bed, staring straight at the ceiling, not moving or closing her eyes as the lights quickly fade to black.//

//Lights come back on the prison, mid-day the next day. Jazz sits on her bed, staring blankly towards the door of her cell. Her facial expression makes it clear that she knows Brimley is not coming. After a moment, the Police Officer comes on stage from downstage right, and walks up towards Jazz's cell. To Jazz's surprise, she begins to open the door.//
[[=]]

JAZZ
Wait, what's happening?

POLICE OFFICER
Some guy just posted your bail. You're free to go.

JAZZ
Holy shit, I thought he wasn't going to show!

POLICE OFFICER
Yeah, well, he did. Did you have anything on you when we brought you in here?

JAZZ
Oh... no, nothing.

POLICE OFFICER
Great, then follow me.

[[/=]]
//The police officer walks, with Jazz following close behind, downstage and then towards stage right. They cross in front of the partition, and stop.//
[[=]]

POLICE OFFICER
You can just wait for him here, he'll be in in a second.

JAZZ
Great, thank you!

[[/=]]
//The police officer walks offstage. Jazz looks around nervously/excitedly. Suddenly, she sees someone come on from stage right, but to her surprise, it isn't Brimley.//
[[=]]

JAZZ
Wait... Dana?

DANA
Hey Jazz, I'm here to pick you up.

JAZZ
I... I don't understand, I thought Brimley was going to pick me up in the morning...

DANA
Morning? Jazz, it's 2 PM. If someone was going to pick you up in the morning, you'd be out.

JAZZ
Huh...

DANA
Listen, Michael told me he was able to... persuade them to post your bail. I didn't ask for details, he didn't seem too keen on sharing, let's leave it at that.

JAZZ
...

DANA
The point is, shit's going down at the site right now. You've missed a lot in the past couple of days.

JAZZ
Wait, what's going on?

DANA
The geniuses in the PR Group decided to let reporters poke around inside the site, and one of them got a little bit of info about the D-Class program.

JAZZ
Oh fuck...

DANA
Yeah, turns out the general population isn't too keen on doing inhumane testing on amnesticized prisoners. 

JAZZ
So, what's the Foundation going to do?

DANA
I tried to talk to Laura but every member of staff level 4 and higher is still wrapped up in trying to get Korea back from whatever dimension we zapped it to, so it's kind of been left to us.

JAZZ
Wait, dimension?

DANA
Sorry, figure of speech. Nobody has any clue where it is, and that's precisely why none of the higher-ups are available to help us deal with the crowds. Michael's in charge while Laura is busy, and he didn't want to take any chances, so he put the site on lockdown. Nobody can get in unless they're part of essential containment personnel, which none of us are.

JAZZ
I thought you were a containment specialist?

DANA
Emphasis on the word specialist. I'm not really needed when it comes to general, day to day containment. How do you think I have time to basically run the bar alone?

JAZZ
So... then what? You must have come here for some reason.

DANA
Well, other than the fact that I consider you a friend, I also know that you're innocent. And we're going to prove it.

JAZZ
How?

DANA
Crystal-INE has access to the Foundation database. They can get us more information on the project, but it's all off limits to me. You, on the other hand, were part of the project team. You can access those documents for us!

JAZZ
But Crystal-INE's stored in Site-96, and you just said it was on lockdown.

DANA
//(grinning)//
It is on lockdown. That's why we're going to sneak in.

[[/=]]
Blackout.
[[=]]

+++ End Scene

> **« [[[safety-reasons| Act II - Scene I]]]** | **[[[demasqed| Demasqed]]]** | **[[[meme-culture| Act II - Scene III]]] »**
[[/=]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
[!-- N/A (No Images)  --]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

Three Hundred and Fifty Dollars

Module Styles

Inline Styles

Includes

CSS Classes

Page Source