FIREBRINGER - GRUNT/TRIBE LINES

EVERYTHING GRUNT SAYS + BACKSTAGE LINES

EMBERLY: Tiblyn, I know you hold up the sky, and I appreciate that, but sometimes you gotta get your head out of the clouds and stop thinking so much about romance… Oh, excuse me!

GRUNT: Gasp!

TIBLYN: Oooooh, he’s not from our tribe! He's an outsider! I'm gonna go get Chorn!

GRUNT: Are you gonna eat that?

(Just a Taste)

EMBERLY: I was thinking about it.

GRUNT: Well, I’m starving. I’ll kill you for it.

EMBERLY: No… I’ll kill you. Come here.

GRUNT: Ow.

EMBERLY: I…I’m sorry.

GRUNT: You smacked my butt. Hard.

EMBERLY: Well, I was trying to kill you.

GRUNT: Yeah, but…my butt! It’s stinging so bad right now. All I have are a few leafs covering it, lady. That’s like nothing!

EMBERLY: Well, maybe we shouldn’t try to kill each other? OK? Look. This is a pretty big thing. Let’s just share it.

GRUNT: Okay.

EMBERLY: Yuck! Ew! That’s poison!

GRUNT: What? Oh no!

EMBERLY: That’ll kill you! Spit it out!

GRUNT: Huh?

EMBERLY: Just open your mouth and let it fall out.

GRUNT: Huh… How’d you know to spit it out? That’s smart. I probably would’ve just kept eating until I died. You saved my life.

EMBERLY: Don’t worry about it. That’s my job. I eat stuff and find out if it’s poison or if it tastes good. I’m Emberly.

GRUNT: Em…Embly. What is it?

EMBERLY: EM-BER-LY.

GRUNT: EM…BLY.

EMBERLY: That’s fine. What’s your name?

GRUNT: Grunt.

EMBERLY: Grant?

GRUNT: That’s fine.

EMBERLY: Sorry I reacted the way I did. We’re not supposed to be with people from other tribes.

GRUNT: I don’t have a tribe. It’s just me.

EMBERLY: Just you? How can that be?

GRUNT: I had a tribe. They kicked me out…

EMBERLY: Why?

GRUNT: You know how a pack of coyotes will be feasting on a rabbit, but there’s always one small, weak, runt of a coyote that’s being kept from the meal?

EMBERLY: Yes.

GRUNT: I’m like the rabbit.

EMBERLY: Oh.

GRUNT: So, in your tribe, you just walk around and eat everything?

EMBERLY: Well, that’s what I do. It’s kind of my speciality. This is where I gather all the foods we like. Actually, check this out! I’ve started combining things to try and create some different tastes. Like this! It looks like two big leaves on top of eachother, right? But on the INSIDE…there’s a bunch of berries that are all squished up and a light sprinkling of salt! Go ahead. Try it!

GRUNT: Wow. That’s pretty good. Hmm.

JEMILLA: Don’t worry, Emberly! We’ll get that outsider away from you!

GRUNT: AHHH!

TIBLYN: Ok. I’ll be right back.

GRUNT: Oh… Oh… Oh my god! It’s you! It’s really you!!! I can’t believe it!

EMBERLY: Huh? Oh, GRANT!

GRUNT: At long last! I went back to that bush everyday, hoping against all hope that you’d return. And it’s Grunt actually.

EMBERLY: It’s grunt to see you, too!

GRUNT: For many nights, I have seen the glow for this place. My heart told me to follow the glow… and it led me back to you. Wow, what’s that?

EMBERLY: It’s this new thing my tribe got. It’s called fire. It makes things hot, and you can look at it.

GRUNT: Oh. OK. Could you put it down?

EMBERLY: Uuuuuuuhhhhh…No.

GRUNT: Ok, do you remember that day when you shared your special skill with me? You mixed leafs and berries together to make a new taste. Well, I wanted to share with you my special skill. It’s something that I invented. It’s how I express myself…

EMBERLY: Gasp. A turkey! Wait…no. It looks just like a turkey, but it’s not! How did you do this? Did you squish a turkey with this rock?

GRUNT: No, I made it. It’s called…. a pinting.

EMBERLY: A painting.

GRUNT: That’s fine.

EMBERLY: Wow. Can you make “paintings” of other things? I mean besides turkeys?

GRUNT: For a while I thought no. I figured out I can, but turkeys are my specialty. This is probably the best thing I’ve ever painted. If you want, I can show you some others.

EMBERLY: Yeah! I’d love that!

GRUNT: This is a painting of my father.

EMBERLY: He has your eyes. Or… are those his nostrils?

GRUNT: They’re nostrils. Did I forget to draw eyes? Ah, fuck. Well, this one sucks. This painting is of my mother.

EMBERLY: Huh.

GRUNT: My mother was very ugly.

EMBERLY: Oh, well then this one is great!

GRUNT: Yeah, that one’s good. And this is my self-portrait.

EMBERLY: That’s you?

GRUNT: Yes.

EMBERLY: And what is that?

GRUNT: My penis.

EMBERLY: And it’s going up to…

GRUNT: The moon.

EMBERLY: Wow, that’s so creative. What are they made of? I’m detecting poison berry, very clever. Some mud, and is that…

GRUNT: Yes, the last ingredient is poop. That’s how I’m able to achieve the light sienna and caramel colors seen here.

EMBERLY: Can you teach me how to…paint?

GRUNT: I would like that very much, Em… Em… What was it again?

EMBERLY: Emberly.

GRUNT: Em-ily. All right, first you have to mix up the berries, mud, and poop. I have a pre-mixed batch here in case I ever see a turkey. You gotta get a ton of it on your hands. Just cake your hands in shit. Then you take a rock slab, and just let your imagination run wild. Now let’s have some fun. Like if I put a little bit of brown here, then a line over here, and… Ugh! I fucked it up.

EMBERLY: How’s mine look?

GRUNT: Ugh… It looks great. Too good!

EMBERLY: What’s wrong?

GRUNT: It’s just that painting turkeys is my thing. I just didn’t know you were gonna paint a turkey too.

EMBERLY: Oh… It’s not a turkey! It’s a…uh…a spider!

GRUNT: Oh. Ok. Spiders have a few more legs than that, but it’s not bad. I’m sorry I got upset about the turkey. I’m just very self-conscious about my skill level. Embly, since we met, you have not left my thoughts. Partially because that sandwich you gave me has given me diarrhea ever since.

EMBERLY: Yeah, it’ll do that.

GRUNT: I was wondering…May I paint you, so that I can have a way to see Embly, even when I cannot see Embly?

EMBERLY: Oh, Grant. Of course you can paint me! And I’ll want something to remember you too! Maybe we can paint each other?

GRUNT: Uh…I would prefer if I just painted you.

EMBERLY: Oh. Cause you don’t want mine to look better than yours?

GRUNT: Thank you for understanding.

EMBERLY: So what am I gonna have to remember you? Are you gonna give me the painting, or am I just doing you a favor?

GRUNT: I’ll make two paintings, or… Can’t you just take some of my old stuff? Look, you can have “My Penis Touches the Moon”… No, wait… You can have my mother.

EMBERLY: Wow, you’d be willing to part with this ugly, shit-covered rock for me?

GRUNT: For you, I’d part with many of these paintings. Not all of ‘em, but I do like you a lot.

EMBERLY: That’s ok because I actually don’t want this, but I like you too. Alright, Grant… Paint me.

GRUNT: Is that really the pose you’re gonna make?

(Paint Me)

EMBERLY: I was thinking about it.

GRUNT: It’s a little hard, but… whatever.

GRUNT & EMBERLY: I like how you see me

GRUNT: Ok, here it is. I’m really proud of how the hands turned out.

EMBERLY: Yeah. And is that, like, a cat lying down in front of me?

GRUNT: I can’t draw feet.

EMBERLY: Beautiful.

GRUNT: Beautiful…

EMBERLY: Fuck! You have shit on your hands!

GRUNT: Uh… I’m so sorry.

EMBERLY: It’s… it’s alright. It’s just gross.

GRUNT: But do you get what I was trying to do, though?

(End of “Ouch! My Butt!)

TRIBE: Cough cough cough.

DUCKER: She’s doomed us all!

GRUNT: We trusted you, Zazzalil!

ZAZZALIL: Who the fuck are you?

GRUNT: Grunt. I’m an outsider. I don’t know too much about what’s going on here. It just looks like you let a lot of people down.

SNARL: RRRRRRAAAAAAGGGHHHHHRRRRRRR!!!!!

GRUNT: AHHHH! AHHH! AHHHHH!!!

TRIBE: SNARL!

GRUNT: EMBLY! EMBLY! HELP ME! HELP ME!

EMBERLY: Grant! Grant, can you hear me?

GRUNT: You…you came for me, Em…Em… One more time. What was it?

EMBERLY: We gotta get you out of here while Snarl’s asleep.

GRUNT: Yes. His belly is full for now. He ate my arm.

EMBERLY: Oh no. Well, at least you’re alive.

GRUNT: You don’t understand, Embly. He ate my painting arm.

EMBERLY: Oh, Grant. Do you think you can walk?

GRUNT: No. Snarl also ate my feet.

EMBERLY: That’s terrible!

GRUNT: I know! Now how am I supposed to practice drawing those? I can’t do that shit from memory!

EMBERLY: Come on, everyone. Let’s drag him home.

GRUNT: No. Carry me. Carry me.

EMBERLY: Grab his legs. And pull him across the rocky ground as fast as you can!

GRUNT: OOOUUUUUCH!

ZAZZALIL: Oh great. Now I feel like a fuckin’ idiot!

TRIBE: You are a fucking idiot!

SNARL: ROOOOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRR!!!!

TRIBE: AHHHHH!!!

SNARL: ROOOOOOAAAAARRRRR!!!!

TRIBE: AHHHHHHHHH!!!!

JEMILLA: You…You did it! You figured out how to make fire!

TRIBE: YEY!

ZAZZALIL: And we burned another big, beautiful animal to death!

TRIBE: YEY!!!

CHORN: You have done well… humans.

TRIBE: Gasp!!

CHORN: Yes, I am Chorn. I came… from the sky. A test this all has been.

TRIBE: What…the…fuck?

CHORN: When the Federation of Chorn seeded life on this planet, four billion years ago, the High Lords of Chornazord calculated that any sentient life that would rise here would inevitably become its own undoing.

TRIBE: What…the…fuck?

CHORN: Excellent. Now I must leave you. But before I go, I will bestow a gift. Grunt, for humanity to learn this lesson, you had to lose your arm and feet.

GRUNT: Yeah, that sucks.

CHORN: I will make all right. There.

GRUNT: Wow! My arm! Can you make me new feet too?

CHORN: Uh…No. I can’t do feet.

GRUNT: Yeah, neither can I.

CHORN: Goodbye!

TRIBE: Goodbye!

SHWOOPSIE: I couldn’t agree more Jemilla! I’ve been thinking, I should take my contributions to the tribe more seriously. I don’t need to make EVERYTHING a joke. Maybe I could work on constructing WHOAOOOOAOOAOA!

TRIBE: HAHAHAHA!!!

SHWOOPSIE: Well, that was a Shwoops.

TRIBE: SHWOOPSIE!!!!