DEVTOME.COM HOSTING COSTS HAVE BEGUN TO EXCEED 115$ MONTHLY. THE ADMINISTRATION IS NO LONGER ABLE TO HANDLE THE COST WITHOUT ASSISTANCE DUE TO THE RISING COST. THIS HAS BEEN OCCURRING FOR ALMOST A YEAR, BUT WE HAVE BEEN HANDLING IT FROM OUR OWN POCKETS. HOWEVER, WITH LITERALLY NO DONATIONS FOR THE PAST 2+ YEARS IT HAS DEPLETED THE BUDGET IN SHORT ORDER WITH THE INCREASE IN ACTIVITY ON THE SITE IN THE PAST 6 MONTHS. OUR CPU USAGE HAS BECOME TOO HIGH TO REMAIN ON A REASONABLE COSTING PLAN THAT WE COULD MAINTAIN. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SUPPORT THE DEVTOME PROJECT AND KEEP THE SITE UP/ALIVE PLEASE DONATE (EVEN IF ITS A SATOSHI) TO OUR DEVCOIN 1M4PCuMXvpWX6LHPkBEf3LJ2z1boZv4EQa OR OUR BTC WALLET 16eqEcqfw4zHUh2znvMcmRzGVwCn7CJLxR TO ALLOW US TO AFFORD THE HOSTING.

THE DEVCOIN AND DEVTOME PROJECTS ARE BOTH VERY IMPORTANT TO THE COMMUNITY. PLEASE CONTRIBUTE TO ITS FURTHER SUCCESS FOR ANOTHER 5 OR MORE YEARS!

SPUDS SITCOM TREATMENT

SPUD (Special Polar Undercover Division) is a British Ministry of Defence (MOD) station in the Antarctic. Everyone posted to SPUD knows that they made some catastrophic mistakes to get posted there, except for the station commander, SERGEANT ROGERS, who believes that SPUD are an elite force. Essentially, SPUD is a dumping ground for the MOD to send people (idiots) they want out of the way, but in every episode the MOD are forced to call on SPUD for help. There are brief flashbacks in every episode to explain the mistakes made by each character to get them posted to SPUD.

Characters

SERGEANT ROGERS - an extremely overweight paratrooper. He needs three parachutes to slow him down which causes him to drift miles from the landing zone. WOOD - the new guy. A jack-the-lad who wants to impress. POYNTER - a blind radio operator. Thinks he has super senses like Daredevil. HICKS - the really dim one. MORSE - munitions expert. Thinks of himself as a scientist and does experiments when there isn’t anything to blow up. CHOPPER - helicopter pilot. He is only ever seen in the helicopter and never speaks.

Other minor characters are introduced depending on the episode.

Location

Most episodes take place inside the polar station which is essentially a wooden hut with kitchen/living room area, radio room, bedrooms etc. with some other interiors depending on the episode storyline (boat wheelhouse, embassy, office, helicopter etc.). Almost all exteriors will use stock footage (yacht on ocean, MOD headquarters etc.) to reduce filming costs.

Episode Ideas

The attached episode is not yet a complete 30 minute episode, but is intended primarily to introduce the characters. Agent White and the Aussie Pirates could be used as regular characters. Other episode ideas:

Superhero - a man’s body is found frozen in the ice and SPUD thaw him out. He is Britain’s answer to Captain America, Super Brit Man, frozen in the ice since the Second World War.

Ice Station Zhang Yu (Octopus) - a British spy satellite crashes in Antarctica. Both Spud and the Chinese equivalent are trying to locate it.

SPUDS EPISODE ONE

EXT. A FROZEN ANTARCTIC LANDSCAPE. DAY.

A golden labrador, SAM, is running across a snowy valley and behind it a helicopter is in pursuit (note: copy of scene from the movie The Thing). ROGERS is leaning out of the helicopter holding a sniper rifle. He fires the gun and plumes of snow erupt around the dog.

ROGERS (Circles with his finger) I’m out of ammo. Let’s head back to base.

EXT. AN ANTARCTIC STATION. DAY.

The helicopter lands and ROGERS jumps clear and walks towards the main building, passing a snowman holding a bazooka and a Union Jack.

INT. ANTARCTIC STATION KITCHENETTE. DAY.

ROGERS enters carrying a sniper rifle which he places on the table and begins to strip off outerwear/snow goggles etc. HICKS is making a hot drink. WOOD is sitting on a chair staring into space.

HICKS Did you catch the little monster?

ROGERS No. He got clean away with our entire supply of sausages. (Hooks a thumb towards WOOD) Who’s that?

HICKS New guy. Arrived with the delivery plane an hour ago.

ROGERS Hey, new guy

WOOD (Jumps to feet and salutes) Private Wood reporting, sir!

ROGERS At ease, soldier. We run a relaxed ship here. I’m Sergeant Rogers, Station Commander. This is Private Hicks.

HICKS Hey, Wood. Do you want to see the coffee trick?

ROGERS Time for that later, Hicks. I need to give Wood the tour. You go amuse yourself.

HICKS Sure thing, boss. (HICKS picks up his coffee cup and exits the front door)

WOOD The coffee trick, sir?

ROGERS You probably noticed it’s pretty cold around here. If you go outside and throw a cup of hot coffee into the air it freezes on the way up and falls back down as snow.

WOOD Wow!

ROGERS Quite. So you’ve come here to be a Spud.

WOOD Spud, sir?

ROGERS Special Polar Undercover Division. There’s confidential, secret, deniable, top secret, black ops, ultra-secret … and then there is Spud. We are so ultra-confidentially secret that the MOD deny our very existence. In order to protect our secrecy they send a fortnightly resupply plane and that is all. They don’t respond to our reports and they rarely contact us. That’s how important and secret we are. We are the sharp end of a very long stick, the thin edge of the wedge, the bullets in the gun of democracy. You get the point?

WOOD Yes, sir. I guess.

ROGERS Good. So how did you earn the honour of becoming a Spud?

WOOD I’m not sure, sir. My platoon commander said I had a flair for intelligence work.

[FADE TO FLASHBACK]

INT. AIRCRAFT HANGAR. DAY

WOOD is sitting behind a monitor steering a UAV with a joystick. The screen shows an aerial view of a football match.

PLATOON COMMANDER What’s the score?

WOOD Chelsea are winning two-nil … (WOOD glances over shoulder and jumps) Sir, I…

PLATOON COMMANDER Aren’t you supposed to be monitoring the Pope’s procession to the palace?

WOOD Yes, sir, I …

PLATOON COMMANDER (Shouts) So why is my 20 million pound spy plane watching a bloody football match instead of protecting the Pontiff from terrorists?

(On the monitor the image is heading towards the ground and then goes blank)

WOOD Sir, I …

PLATOON COMMANDER (Sarcastically) You have a flair for intelligence work, Wood. You have so much space in that empty head of yours that there’s nothing to do but try and fill it with something. I’m going to have to find you a suitable posting for your talents where you can spend the next hundred years paying back the cost of that UAV you just crashed.

WOOD Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

[FADE BACK TO PRESENT]

INT. ANTARCTIC STATION KITCHENETTE. DAY

ROGERS A flair for intelligence work, eh? I like the sound of that. You’ll make a perfect Spud.

WOOD Thank you, sir.

HICKS comes back into the room. His tongue is hanging out and he has an icicle attached to it which is hanging down attached to a coffee cup on the other end at his waist level.

ROGERS You couldn’t resist taking a drink, could you?

HICKS (Shaking head) Uhhhh!

ROGERS Go melt it off. Come on, Wood, I’ll give you the tour.

ROGERS leads WOOD into the corridor.

INT. RADIO ROOM. DAY.

POYNTER is sitting behind a radio display turning dials. He is wearing headphones and doesn’t notice when ROGERS and WOOD enter. There is a white cane leaning next to him and he has dark glasses on.

ROGERS This is Poynter, our radio operator.

WOOD Is he blind?

POYNTER I’m blind, not deaf. (POYNTER pulls off headphones and spins chair around) To whom am I addressing myself?

ROGERS This is our new recruit, Wood

POYNTER Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Wood.

WOOD Same here. I’m sorry if I offended you.

POYNTER It is of no moment. Just don’t be thinking of my disability as a liability. The opportunity which arises from my diversity is in actuality a facility to lend supernormality and superiority to the generality of my sensitivity.

WOOD Pardon me?

ROGERS He thinks his other senses are superhuman because he’s blind. Like Daredevil.

WOOD Oh

POYNTER You mock me, sergeant, and yet you cannot hear the pounding beat of wings on a gentle breeze. In truth, you cannot sense the fly buzzing around your head even as we speak.

(POYNTER suddenly lifts a blowpipe to his mouth and fires)

WOOD Ouch

(WOOD pulls a small dart from his neck. There is no fly attached.)

POYNTER And once again I prove my point through action rather than words.

ROGERS Good job, Poynter. See you at dinner. (ROGERS makes circle with finger at temple to signify POYNTER is crazy) And I need to talk to you about that bloody seeing-eye dog of yours. (ROGERS motions with hand) Come on, Wood.

ROGERS and WOOD exit room. EXT. SOUTH ATLANTIC OCEAN. DAY.

A luxury yacht is bobbing on a rough ocean.

INT. SHIP WHEELHOUSE. DAY

WHITE Mayday, mayday! Anybody in range of this transmission, please respond. This is sailing vessel Queen’s Pride. Engines have failed and I am drifting towards Antarctica. This is a Mayday transmission …

EXT. MINISTRY OF DEFENCE HEADQUARTERS, WHITEHALL. NIGHT.

Gradual zoom towards an upper window.

INT. OFFICE. NIGHT.

GENERAL is sitting behind a desk writing in a file. There is a knock at the door.

GENERAL Come in

CORPORAL enters and salutes

What can I do for you, Corporal?

CORPORAL An incident has occurred in the south Atlantic, sir. The British consul’s private yacht was on a leisure cruise and has run into some engine difficulties and is now drifting towards Antarctica.

GENERAL I assume it wasn’t really a leisure cruise

CORPORAL That is correct, sir. Agent White is onboard and is undertaking covert surveillance of South American shipping movements.

GENERAL (sighs) Anything else?

CORPORAL Yes, sir. White reported he was being boarded by pirates just before his radio went dead.

GENERAL It doesn’t rain but it pours…very well, Corporal, scramble the Falklands Marine force.

CORPORAL Erm…sorry, sir. The Falklands marines are on manoeuvres, erm … in Jamaica … and can’t mobilise for at least 24 hours. Our nearest response team is here in the UK and they can’t be onsite for at least 28 hours. I’m not sure Agent White has that long, sir.

GENERAL Are you telling me we have no viable options?

CORPORAL There is SPUD, sir. They are within easy range of White’s yacht.

GENERAL Oh, God. It might be simpler to launch a cruise missile and finish White off quickly. You realise, of course, that the reason SPUD was placed on the opposite side of the world was so I would never have to think about them and now you want me to use them on an actual mission! (Shouts) They give morons a bad name, Corporal. But … you’re right, we have no other choice. Very well, Corporal, contact Rogers and give him instructions.

CORPORAL Very good, sir. (CORPORAL turns to leave)

GENERAL Oh, and Corporal. Draft a suitable obituary for White. Just in case.

CORPORAL Yes, sir.

INT. ANTARCTIC STATION LABORATORY. DAY.

MORSE is standing beside a table with long tubes of ice on it and HICKS is sitting in a chair beside the table. HICKS is wearing boxing gloves. ROGERS and WOOD enter.

MORSE Ah, Sergeant. Just in time to view my latest experiment. And who is this?

ROGERS Wood. He’s our new recruit.

MORSE Hello, Wood. What do you know about ice cores?

WOOD Erm…nothing.

MORSE Well, take this ice core here, for example. (MORSE points to an 8-foot long piece of ice on the table) It is a slice of history. This section here is fairly recent, but the other end…here (MORSE spreads his hands to indicate a small section) represents the state of Antarctica two-and-a-half thousand years ago. This small section of ice was laid down before the birth of Jesus Christ.

MORSE picks up an ice pick and knocks off some of the ice. He picks up a few chunks and drops them in a glass and then adds some whisky. He holds the glass out to HICKS.

Drink up, Hicks.

HICKS (HICKS tries to pick up glass with boxing gloves and can’t quite take a drink) A little help here

(MORSE puts a twirly straw in the glass. HICKS starts to drink)

WOOD So you’re a scientist?

MORSE Not really, no. Munitions expert. This just passes the time until they find me something to blow up around here. Right, Hicks, start punching. (HICKS starts to hit a punch bag but is staggering about a lot) I’m studying the fighting efficiency of a soldier whilst inebriated. Want a go?

WOOD Not right now, thanks.

POYNTER enters the room

POYNTER Sarge, Whitehall have forwarded an important missive. They are requesting our assistance in an urgent rescue mission.

ROGERS Woo Hoo! A mission at last! Saddle up, boys

(HICKS keels over sideways)

EXT. SOUTH ATLANTIC OCEAN. NIGHT.

A luxury yacht is bobbing on a rough ocean.

INT. SHIP WHEELHOUSE. NIGHT.

ROGERS barges through the door holding a machine gun.

ROGERS Nobody move

(WHITE and two men dressed as pirates look up from a card game. WHITE lays down a hand)

WHITE Gin. (To Rogers) Who are you?

ROGERS I’m Sergeant Rogers, sir. Spud Special Ops. We were told you’d been boarded by pirates.

WHITE Only these two Aussies actually. They’re doing a charity rowing trip across the Pacific dressed as pirates. They ran into a little trouble and had to abandon ship.

PIRATE 1 & 2 (Holding up cans of lager) G’day

WHITE So you’re a Spud, eh? Just past the nick of time too. I fixed the engine an hour ago and we’re heading for Port Stanley, so we don’t need any help, I’m afraid.

ROGERS Oh

POYNTER and WOOD enter the room. POYNTER is holding a blowpipe to his lips.

PIRATE 1 (Holds up can of lager with a dart protruding from it) Bloody hell, mate. Mind me beer.

PIRATE 2 Arrrr!

WHITE Poynter, is that you?

POYNTER White? I should have known.

WOOD You know each other?

POYNTER White’s the reason I’m in this position.

WOOD Blind?

POYNTER I was born blind, you idiot. No, Agent White here, slimy limey bastard that he is, thought it would be funny to mess with my radar display back in Blighty. He got me sent to SPUD.

WHITE You’re not still sore about that, are you? It was just a joke.

[FADE TO FLASHBACK]

INT. RADIO ROOM. DAY.

POYNTER is monitoring a radar display. WHITE is tapping a keyboard at another workstation. He nudges a colleague and points smiling at POYNTER’s display. A large number of radar images show on the display and an alarm sounds. POYNTER uses a braille-pad to monitor the display.

POYNTER (Flicks radio button) Air Command, this is listening post Alpha Zulu Seven. This is a code Red. I am reading two hundred Russian Blackjack’s approaching British airspace over the Orkney’s.

AIR COMMAND Are you sure, Alpha Zulu Seven? Two hundred nuclear bombers. That’s an invasion force.

POYNTER Roger that, sir. You need to scramble all alert fighters immediately. Britain is now at war with Russia.

AIR COMMAND Affirmative, Alpha Zulu Seven. Fighters launching.

(Radar display changes to show a number of UFO’s from a video game.)

POYNTER Command, my display seems to be playing up here.

AIR COMMAND What’s going on, Alpha Zulu Seven? We have just declared war, you know?

(Radar display changes to a large flying duck)

POYNTER Command, recall the fighters …

(WHITE starts laughing.)

[FADE to Present]

INT. SHIP WHEELHOUSE. NIGHT.

WHITE (Still laughing) You never did get a chance to report that alien invasion, did you?

POYNTER I hate you, White.

WHITE Or the duck

ROGERS OK. That’s enough of that. We clearly aren’t needed here so all of you get prepped for immediate dust off.

MORSE enters wheelhouse.

MORSE Charges set, sir. Five minute countdown.

ROGERS What charges?

MORSE It’s my failsafe preparation for the ‘No Win’ scenario, sir. You know, if we all get captured by the pirates we blow up the ship and everybody onboard to smithereens.

ROGERS Have you met the pirates?

PIRATE 1 & 2 (Holding up cans of lager) G’day

ROGERS (Sighing) Just go and disarm the bombs, Morse.

MORSE Sorry. No can do, sir. I made them suckers tamper-proof.

ROGERS Why would you do that?

MORSE In case I also got captured by the pirates.

ROGERS (Shouts) Have you met the pirates?

PIRATE 1 & 2 Err, g’day

MORSE Sorry, sir.

ROGERS Wood, get everybody onto the chopper. Now.

WOOD Yes, sir.

WHITE Just one minute, Sergeant. You can’t mean to blow up the British Consul’s private yacht.

POYNTER You’re welcome to stay. The Captain really should go down with the ship.

ROGERS Nobody is going down with the ship. White, get on the chopper. You pirates better come too. We’re pulling out.

THIS IS THE END OF EPISODE ONE

Fiction


QR Code
QR Code spuds (generated for current page)
 

Advertise with Anonymous Ads