Outside the Target, Episode One: For Sale (Part One)

Outside the Target (also known as Outside the Target of Reality TV) is the new sitcom following the lives of the contestants of Hunt or Be Hunted, the second season of High Hopes. Welcome to the first episode, titled..."For Sale". 

Part One

 Devra: We really have to destroy this thing? 

Clyde: Yes, Devra. We can't sell this house with a cage in the dining room. 

Devra: It was so difficult to assemble! 

Clyde: Doesn't matter. No sane person would buy this house...not like this.

 Irma: No...no sane...no. 

Clyde: Thank you, Irma, for agreeing with me. We'll need to move her to the new house this afternoon. 

Devra: Move her too! You kidding? 

Clyde: I am not.

 Devra: She's so...heavy! She's practically, like, metal and stuff! 

Clyde: Again, does not matter. We can't leave behind the Roboot. 

Devra: The new homeowners would love a butler!

 TJ: How's everything in here?

Devra: Shit. 

TJ: Just how I like it. Greta, Jocelyn and Bradley just left. 

Clyde: Brilliant. Think you can help out here then, T?

 Devra: By the way, hey Timothy! 

TJ: Oh, hey, Devra. Sorry 'bout that, your highness.

Devra: No need to apologize. My kingdom is long since departed from me. Rather, I have departed from it. Princess Devra has left the building.

TJ: Bloody fantastic. 

Clyde: Don't stand too close to the cage, TJ. Irma may be behind bars and...defective...but she does enjoy...latching on people.  

TJ: Again, bloody fantastic.  

 Irma: Tee...Jay....no, no...

TJ: Yeah, no no. Stay in your cage, woman. Oh, my bad. Robot. 

Clyde: We need someone to help move her to the new house. Everything seems to be set up over there. 

Devra: I am not touching her!

 TJ: Hm...let me think about that. I'll...that'll be a heavy pass, thanks Clyde. No way in hell I'd even stand near her. 

Clyde: Well, Bradley and Jocelyn are definite "no's" too. Greta said she could help, considering she first casted Irma. 

TJ: If I must...

 Devra: Can we change her clothes first? She nasty. 

Clyde: I have another set in the cupboards upstairs. Fetch those for me, Devra. 

Devra: I ain't dressing her though. 

TJ: Nah, me neither. 

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 Bradley: Here we are. The construction team finished a few days ago, but we needed to wait for the paint to dry. 

Greta: Six bedrooms, correct? 

Bradley: Correct. Jocelyn and I share; you and...Tim share. 

Greta: Got it.

 Jocelyn: Tim told me about what you did for season three. I just wanted to let you know that you can't be blamed for anything that happens. 

Greta: Yeah, I know. Nothing will happen, though. 

Jocelyn: No, I don't think so either.

 Bradley: Clyde and Devra have their own private suites at the front of the property. In the centre is the kitchen and dining area, equipped with state-of-the-art appliances and one cage, fit for a Roboot.
Jocelyn: So she can be forced to watch us eat? 
Greta: Exactly.  

Bradley: Beside the kitchen area is the backyard pool, which I think is quite stylish. Two recliners, one poolside bench, and further in the back, a table tennis and ping pong table! Privacy included. 

Jocelyn: I'd rather not let passersby eye me while I hit the ping pong ball from side to side. 

Greta: That was oddly sexual. 

Jocelyn: Why is this wall painted like a...oh, a beautiful wave? 

Bradley: Right! This is the mural wall, originally designed as a secondary exit from the kitchen-dining area. No room for a door, sadly, so now it can be Marsha's new stage! 
 Greta: At least it's a wave now. 

Bradley: Joce, we'll take a look at our private quarters in a minute. Greta? 

Greta: I'm heading towards the kitchen and dining. I need to prepare...the cage. 

Bradley: Okay, got it. Come on, Joce.

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Devra: Clyde...this isn't working. 

Clyde: You've barely tried. 

Devra: I...I have tried. Just...I wish cages were simpler. 

Clyde: If they were, they would not be very good objects to capture people inside. 

TJ: This is swell and all, but are you sure this cage even can be deconstructed? 

Clyde: Not with that attitude! 

TJ: Why don't you come over here then, Clyde! 

Clyde: I can't...

Clyde: Someone needs to be guarding Irma. 

Devra: Oh, right. Since someone needs to weigh down the chair Irma has been wonderfully tied to, you decided you'd be the perfect person. 

TJ: Why'd you tie her to a chair, Clyde? 

Clyde: Where else could I tie her? 

Devra: Hmm, I do not know? A heavier object, perhaps? There is a freaking bar behind you waiting for her to be tied to! 

TJ: We're not going to deconstruct this cage or sell this house by arguing, as much as I'm enjoying this. 

Devra: It won't work. 

Clyde: Devra, you can't just push your arms through the gaps and expect the bars to fall around you. 

Devra: I'm trying to push the bars, idiot. 

Clyde: Oh, I'm sorry. 

TJ: Shitty shit, shit shit. 

Clyde: Yes, Timothy? Is there something wrong? 

You didn't hurt yourself, did you? 

TJ: No, I didn't. Someone's coming towards the door. 

Clyde: Who is it? One of us-

TJ: No, it bloody isn't! He's...oh, he's so different. 

No, I think I've seen him before. On TV. 

Devra: Oh my god! Is it my favourite royal- wait, that's me. 

Clyde: I've hidden Irma behind the bar, as wished. You two head out and show him around, tell him grand stories about our home. Sell this place. 

Irma: Sell...I will...no, no...

Clyde: Quieten down, Irma. He cannot hear you. 

Devra: Time for a show, hehe! Are you ready for this, Tim? 

I, like, so totally cannot wait! 

TJ: Please, I'd rather not be reminded of that Chanel girl. 

Devra: Aw, I miss her. 

TJ: Come on, come on. He's at the front door, woman. 

Grape: Hello? Is there anyone here? 

Devra: I'm coming! I'm coming! 

Grape: Hello? I was wondering if I could tour your house. 

Devra: Hello there! My name is Devra Eden, formerly Princess Devra. 

Beside me is the reformed TJ, now known as Timothy or Tim. 

TJ: Please, come inside. Mind the mess. 

Grape: Hello. You may recognise me. My name's Grape Wisteria.

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Marsha: Thit wash terribleah. 

Ted: No, Marsha, you are...phenomenal! Sure, this is your first time truly performing in front of a live, public audience, but I believe in you! 

Marsha: Theese ees outsaaid reyaleetea.

Ted: No, you can do this.

Ted: Marsha, I believe in you. You will be stunning on that stage and the crowd will...love you. No, they will...scream for you. 
Marsha: Non, non. Moi ees nit publeeque feegurr. 
Ted: Perhaps, forget about the audience. Focus on singing. 

Marsha: Focees on singeeng? FOCEES IN SEENGEENG? This ees a veery spaceeel priseent for ya'll een Heedin Spreengsh. Moi neds audeence. 

Ted: Marsha. Marsha. Marsha.

Marsha: Moi cinnet doo theese! 

Ted: Marsha, listen to me. We have not been collaborating for all of this time to simply ignore everything and be back at square one. Please, dear. 

Marsha: Moi makes cewl videoz. Dat ees all. 

Ted: You should give in. Never give in.  

Ted: I remember all of the times in the competition where you would struggle, but you would come out stronger each time. Consider if you gave in now. What would happen to you, love? 

 Marsha: Dey leave nastee commantarey? 

Ted: Something like that.

Marsha: Moi am da bomb. Moi am da bomb. 

Ted: That's better. That's better. 

Marsha: Moi am da bomb! KA-BOOMIES. 

Ted: Now you are there. Ready to dominate the performance and become the international superstar, Marsha Marshall.

Marsha: Moi ees nammed Marsha Marshall. Moi am da bomb. KA-BOOMIES! Pless, engee the shoe. Seeng wit moi! 

Ted: Marsha! Marsha! Marsha! 

Marsha: Quit don, audeence. Spaceeel priseent! 

Ted: *quieter* Marsha. Marsha. Marsha. 

Marsha: Hit eet!

*music begins to play* 

Marsha: *singing* Ewe canne blam moi, trah too sham moi, 'end steel moi 'eel ceere for ewe!

Ted: You go, girl! 

Marsha: *chuckles; singing* Ewe cinne run 'round, evensh poot moi don, steel moi 'eel beh 'here for ewe! 

Ted: *swaying* Anyone! Anyone! 

Marsha: Too earleh, Teddy! Too earleh! 

Ted: Keep singing, Marsha. You're doing a fantastic job! 

Marsha: Thinks. *singing* Teh werld mah theenk moi ees foolrish; tehy cannit see ewe leek moi canne. 

Ted: *singing along* Oh, but anyone, who knows what love is...

Marsha: *singing* Weel undoorstind...

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Grape: The dining room looks awfully empty. I was looking at the uploaded images earlier and saw the entire dining set there. 

TJ: Well, we...we...

Devra: We moved them out of the way last night. Held a small get together; nothing is broken, however. 

Grape: Mind if we begin the tour this way? 

TJ: Please, right this way. Clyde's waiting in there now if you'd like anything to drink. 

Grape: Water, perhaps.

Devra: *under her breath* Shit. The cage. 

While this is not ideal, the first episode will be broken in two because Blogger hates me. This is the end of Part 1.