I'm going to be egotistical here and cross-post something I put in "Scenes We'd Like to See" back in mid-Sept., before we got properly introduced to Sigrun and Mikkel (and before we realized our crew was going to be given the bum's rush out of Oresund, without any training, team-building, driving lessons, or good Danish beer). I'm charmed and impressed by the stories here, and I hope to come up with something later that can reach their level. Meanwhile....
TEAM-BUILDING EXERCISE: A SHORT FEATURE
Setting: The SSSS team's last 24 hours at the Malmö base before setting out into the unknown.
Training Montage of Tuuri trying to parallel-park a 1970s shag-carpeted van, Lalli effortlessly hitting distant targets with his beat-up rifle, Emil going all Van Halen with his flamethrower, everyone practicing hand signals, Cap manically cheering them on. Medic quietly inventories and rolls up his medical supplies, including a lot of morphine and some really scary-looking bone saws. Taru and Trond are seen standing with pointers in front of maps (too blurry to see of where). Torbjorn hands out print-outs. Tuuri reads hers with earnest interest; Lalli stares blankly. Emil plays with his hair.
Sound phases in as Taru ushers the Fearless Five out the classroom door.
TARU: "....All right, I see that's about all your brains can hold for now. I think for once we can let you youngsters have an open evening, especially since it's Band Night at the canteen. But remember, reveille is at 0600 tomorrow, formation at 0700, and launch at 0800. Meanwhile, we have a treat: 100 Kr each open tab at the bar!"
TROND (with a chilly smile): "Don't spend it all tonight. Who knows, you might come back."
Scene of crew (after dinner, spiffed up a bit, minus parkas and weapons [except Lalli], plus hair ribbons [Tuuri] entering a large timbered hall full of people whooping it up. A band is on a podium at the far back.
TUURI: [Icelandic] Wow, all these people! This must be more than everyone who *lives* at Keuruu. And... and... they're friendly, right? I mean, I don’t need to request permission to speak, do I?
CAP: Nah, they're cool. You get all kinds here in Malmö, you know? Everyone's been out in troll country at some point, so they've all got stories. Just don't let 'em scare ya!
MEDIC: You guys want some beer?
LALLI stares at him blankly.
MEDIC: Suomi? [LALLI nods.] [bad Finnish] Uh... beer, kid? This way.
CAP: Go get us some too! I wanna dance, not stand in line! I bet you do too, what’s your name -- Tuuri? [The men head off to the beer line.]
TUURI (shyly): Um, I'm not sure I know the dances you all do in a big place like this. I’d like to try, though.
CAP: Not a problem! I know tons of guys here – I’ll grab a couple, and they’ll be happy to teach you!
[A few minutes later.] MEDIC and Lalli are sitting in silent contentment with several other men at a bench, beer mugs in front of them. They look kind of like this:
[Intro to the U.S. TV show “King of the Hill," for those who don’t recognize it.]
MAN #1: Yep. (Drinks. Pause.)
MAN #2: Yep. (Drinks. Long pause.)
LALLI: Yep. (Drinks.)
MEDIC: Mmm-hmmm. (Drinks.)
At another table, EMIL (on the right) is trying to make himself agreeable to a very superior-looking dark-eyed lady, who oddly resembles a certain Swedish elkhound we know. In the background, the band starts playing “Jeg ønsker at blive bedøvet.”
/>CAP [on the left, next to TUURI, leaps up exuberantly]: Ahhh! That's my favorite song! I’m going to dance, you guys – I’ll be right back. (She disappears into the throng of joyously pogo-ing dancers.)
[A few minutes later. EMIL has not made much headway with the dark-eyed lady; he’s spent all his money on single-malt whiskey for her and water for himself. Into CAP’s vacant seat next to TUURI slides a tall, crew-cut, good-looking Dane, JENS.]
JENS (to TUURI): [ICE] Well, hello there. I don’t think we’ve met – I’d remember a pretty girl like you.
TUURI (blushes, flattered): Oh! Um, I’m Tuuri – Tuuri Hotakainen. I’m part of this new team that’s going out exploring tomorrow. We’re looking for….well, I’m not really supposed to tell, but we’re looking for things the Danes want.
JENS: Oho! Things the Danes want, eh? I could probably help you with that, seeing as how I’m a Dane. The name’s Jens.
TUURI: Oooh, really? That would be great!
[An hour later. EMIL is sitting alone, eating seaweed crisps and sulking over Astrid’s desertion, unaware of what’s going on with TUURI just behind him. There are a great many empty beer mugs in front of JENS and TUURI. She is flushed and pie-eyed; he is draped all over her.]
JENS: …all the Disney Princess books, and I even have the first-edition hard-cover of “Fantasia.” I inherited them from my grandmother, and I hardly ever show them to anyone. Except scholars with a special interest. But if you’ll follow me back to my quarters, I’m happy to let you see them.
TUURI: Wow, re- really? I’ve always w-wanted to see real Disney things – I’ve only heard about them. I’ll just…just check with my commanding officer, in case we’ve got more briefings or something before bedtime.
JENS: Oh, pfff, here at Malmo there are never briefings right before bedtime. Except the one-on-one kind… [Rises, pulling TUURI up with him.] Listen, I’ll leave a note for your C.O. As long as she knows where you are, there’s no problem. We’re all adults here. [Makes to leave with TUURI, who is starting to protest uncertainly, but very wobbly on her feet.]
[Meanwhile, LALLI has noticed this and made his way across the room. He steps in front of them, glaring.]
LALLI: [FIN] Quit that! Let her go. C’mon, Tuuri.
JENS (initially not understanding): [ICE] What’d you say? [LALLI reaches for TUURI’s free arm, to get her away from JENS.]
JENS (Mockingly, as to a pet): What’s that, boy – you smell a troll? Go get it, and I’ll give you a kitty treat!
[LALLI looks irritated, spots EMIL, shakes his shoulder. He looks up, takes in the situation, and rises.]
EMIL (coldly, to JENS): [SWE] I don’t think the lady is interested in your company. Why don’t you take your leave? We all have to be up early tomorrow.
JENS bursts out laughing. [DAN, but imitating Emil’s accent mincingly]: Oh my, a rival for little Suomi-neito! Is the young gentleman going to challenge me to a duel for the fair lady?
Or… is it me you’re jealous of, or her?? Haw, haw. Say, pretty boy – do you row bow, or stroke?
[EMIL goes red with rage and punches JENS in the gut. JENS bellows and throws himself at EMIL – and then goes sprawling because LALLI has quietly tripped him (and moved to support the reeling TUURI). As JENS staggers to his feet and EMIL braces himself for impact, the large, impassive form of MADSEN suddenly appears between them.]
MADSEN (benevolently): [DAN] Hey guys, what’s up?
JENS and EMIL, simultaneously:
[DAN] Mikkel, hey! I was about to close the deal with the little country cousin here and these two bozos are getting in my way. Get ‘em out of here, willya?
[SWE] Madsen! Do you know this… low fellow? He was being offensive to Miss Tuuri! So I was just teaching him some manners. (While shaking his sore punching hand; JENS has abs of steel.)
[Now TARU and a member of the SHORE PATROL (or local equivalent) come into view.]
TARU: [ICE] What’s going on?
SHORE PATROL OFFICER: [DAN] What’s all this, then?
MADSEN: Oh, hey, Marshal. It’s nothing; the kids here are on my team, and they had a bit too much to drink. You know what it’s like, the night before your first Long Patrol. Everyone just needed to blow off a little steam.
OFFICER: Huh. Well, if you say so. [To the participants] Does anyone want to press charges?
TUURI (sounding scared): N… no.
JENS (after meeting MADSEN’s gaze, sullenly): No.
OFFICER: All right, off you go. [Leaves.]
MADSEN wraps an arm around JENS’ neck in a friendly-looking but unbreakable headlock. [ICE]: I think we both need a breath of fresh air. What’s say we head outside, buddy? [To TARU, EMIL, and LALLI] Can you take care of Miss Hotakainen? [They part ways.]
[Leaving the canteen for barracks. TARU and LALLI are supporting TUURI, who is mumbling in Finnish and starting to cry. EMIL trails behind awkwardly.]
TARU turns. [ICE, trying to keep it simple for EMIL]: We… OK now. You savvy?
[FIN, to LALLI]: She’ll be fine, once I get her into a cold shower and a nice sauna. You boys roll along now.
[Offstage, we hear a KUNK like a crew-cut Danish head being thwacked against a doorframe, apparently by accident.]
MADSEN, offstage: Careful there, buddy, that’s gotta hurt. [Barfing noises.] Oops, looks like the beer disagreed with you. Again. I better hose you off. [Loud hose noises, groans.]
[EMIL and LALLI glance that way, then give each other a satisfied look.]
EMIL [SWE]: You know, I think he’ll be an asset to our team. [LALLI almost smiles, and pats EMIL’s shoulder.]
LALLI: Hyvää yota.
