by Gina Damico
Chazz: Dude, what? You are the National Association for the Study of Astronomy and Weightlessness! This is why we hired you! How can you not know how to do that?
NASAW: Well, because of physics.
Chazz: I don’t want to hear excuses! Figure out how to punt those kids into the air, Potato Battery!
NASAW: Here’s what I propose. Instead of punting the kids into the air, why don’t we tell the world that we’ve invented a brand-new form of simulated gravity? That DV8 was the very first entity to pioneer it, and it’s being tested out for the very first time on these innocent, helpless children.
Chazz: Ooh. And if something goes horribly wrong, they’ll all be flung out into space!
NASAW: Sure.
Chazz: That could work. Really ups the tension.
NASAW: Glad that’s settled. Now—
Chazz: Seaweed time. Later hater!
[end of call]
* * *
After the commercial break, viewers are treated to an extensive introduction to the spaceship. A computer-animated image of the ship fills the screen, then spins around and is shown from numerous angles. Named the Laika, “after one of the most influential cosmonauts in space exploration history,” the ship looks like an amalgamation of existing shuttles, spacecraft designs from fantasy and sci-fi movie franchises, and, curiously, a Dyson vacuum cleaner. Whatever it’s supposed to be, it is white, clean, shiny, and emblazoned in several places with the American flag.
Item: Transcript of video broadcast
[continued]
[START OF ACT TWO]
Chazz: [voiceover] So! Here’s how this’ll work, America. The Spacetronauts are currently getting suited up and loaded into a custom-designed shuttle, courtesy of the good folks at Southwest Airlines. [An on-air graphic flashes across the bottom of the screen, urging viewers to book their low-airfare vacations today using the discount code SPACE.] The shuttle will blast into the air at seventeen thousand five hundred miles an hour until it hooks up with the Laika’s airlock. Once the pressure has equalized, the Spacetronauts will step out of the airlock and into the Laika, getting their first look at the most trendsetting, luxurious accommodations ever to hit Earth’s orbit.
[CUT TO: Schematics of ship]
Chazz: [voiceover] Our state-of-the-art, revolutionary spaceplane is made up of six separate areas, each more swag than the last. Let’s explore them, shall we?
[CUT TO: Montage of sweeping panoramic shots of the Laika interior]
First up is the IKEA Lünar Lounge, complete with this season’s hottest home furnishings, a pool table, and plenty of board games and playing cards for those rainy meteor-shower days. [Several shots are held at length on the various furniture items, with an on-air graphic popping up at the bottom of the screen reminding viewers to visit the company’s website for more styles and colors.]
There’s also a bar, fully stocked with—sorry, kids, plain old water! Dozens of bottles (glass, with swing-top rubber stoppers, available online and in stores, product name: Slom) will supply our crew with enough fresh drinking water to last the length of their mission.
And then there’s the flight deck!
[CUT TO: A raised platform sitting two steps above the lounge area. At its center are two swivel chairs facing a broad control panel covered with blinking lights, levers, and switches.]
Our crew will use this control panel to press all the buttons and switches that’ll keep them alive or flying through space or . . . whatever it is they’ll be doing up there. Evasive maneuvers? Maybe. As you can see, the flight deck is also decked out with a massive triple-pane, super-durable plastic Windows Window, through which our intrepit explorers can gaze into an awe-inspiring view of Earth, the stars, comets, and UFOs, probably. Thanks to Microsoft for its generous donation!
[Close-up on the Windows Window. A superimposed Microsoft logo appears.]
On to the kitchen! Fully stocked with IKEA dinnerware, a rechargeable hot plate, and plenty of freeze-dried and dehydrated rations. That’s right, America—they’ll be eating like real astronauts up there! And thanks to our friends at Soupernova Soups, our Spacetronauts have been provided with a plentiful supply of Meteor Chowder! Soupernova Soups: a nebula of flavor in every bite.
[CUT TO: Copious drawers of food—packages of ramen noodles, chalklike disks of unidentifiable origin, stacked cans of chowder, and toothpaste-like tubes covered in Russian writing]
Of all the areas, the bedroom is the coziest—and sexiest. Seven beds, ten kids . . . you do the math!
[CUT TO: A tiny bedroom. Three sets of bunk beds surround a California King mattress in the center, all of them crammed in so tightly they are almost touching.]
The bathroom includes one shower, three sinks, and one toilet. Gonna get crowded up in this piece!
[CUT TO: The bathroom, which looks like that of a prison. Although the toilet mercifully has a stall door, the shower curtain is practically transparent. The sole decoration: one cracked seashell arbitrarily tossed between two of the sinks]
We know one room that’s going to get a lot of use: the spa! Provided by Heavenly Hot Tubs, this handcrafted sauna-grade-cedar interior and twenty-five-jet tub will melt away the explorers’ troubles—or pump them full of rejuvenation. With its specially designed viewing glass, their fellow Spacetronauts won’t miss a second of the action—and neither will we!
[Three walls of the spa are lined with a rich, reddish wood; the fourth is made of glass and serves as the back wall of the Lünar Lounge bar, with the transparent hot tub raised and strategically placed against said window]
And last but never, ever least: the Confessional Closet. Our fearless adventurers will be feeling plenty of inner feelings and thoughts and opinions and shit. Can’t keep them all bottled up, can they? That’s what this soundproof booth is for, available for the unloading of emotions at any time, day or night.
[CUT TO: A rectangular room the size of a cupboard, with a camera on one end and a little leather stool on the other. The walls are paneled with soundproof wooden tiles. A blown-up photo of the Milky Way serves as the background.]
[CUT TO: More sweeping panoramas of the ship]
Chazz: But here’s the best part, America. The Laika is equipped with nine high-definition cameras whose ranges cover nearly every inch of the spaceplane. Highly sensitive microphones are embedded in the walls and in the ceiling. Every minute of every day in every room will be documented. Every conversation. Every fight. Every . . . kiss? There’s nowhere to hide, and we’ll be bringing it all to you live online, 24/7!
Of course, this also means there’s no bulky production crew for the Spacetronauts to maneuver around. No one for them to turn to if things go wrong. Not a shred of adult supervision. These kids will be onboard the Laika, from start to finish, in total isolation.
It’ll be up to them to decide how to use it.
The broadcast cuts to a live shot of the staging room, where the sleek, uniform-clad bodies of the Spacetronauts are being bundled into puffy, ugly white spacesuits, fishbowl helmets and all. It is difficult to tell who is who under all that plastic—a problem that the folks in DV8’s control booth are acutely aware of, as sporadic, desperate name-tag graphics keep popping up onscreen to label the fluffy marshmallow beings. The only distinguishable one is Snout’s pet pig, Colonel Bacon, in his own specially fitted suit, his curly tail sticking out from a hole on his rump.
Over the suiting-up footage, Chazz dispenses more instructions.
Chazz: [voiceover] Looking good, Spacetronauts! Now, we don’t expect you to automatically know how to fly a spaceplane, so NASAW will be remotely controlling the ship from down here on Earth. But that’s not to say that you won’t encounter tests of your endurance and resourcefulness, so be prepared for anything! Danger! Disasters! Enemies! Crisises!
[One of the NASAW scientists pauses in securing a spacesuit to look up and mouth “Crises.”]
Chazz: [voiceover] I’ll give you further instructions in a bit. For now, i
t’s time to board the shuttle!
After everyone is suited up, they waddle comically into the next phase of their journey. A stationary camera captures the action as the scientists buckle the Spacetronauts (and Colonel Bacon) into their seats on the shuttle, which is obviously, unmistakably, the cabin of a passenger aircraft. The Nike backpacks are stowed in the overhead storage bins. One of the cast members attempts to push the flight-attendant call button and is quickly scolded by a scientist. Once it has been established that all seatbacks and tray tables are in their upright and locked positions, the scientists flash thumbs-up at the kids, which they return.
With that, the NASAW scientists deliver some unintelligible goodbyes and good lucks, leave the shot, and close the cabin door.
Chazz: [voiceover] This is it, you guys. We’ll see you off through the launch, then take a quick commercial break while you complete your journey. It will take eight and a half minutes for the shuttle to reach orbit altitude and dock with the Laika, so we’ll reestablish contact with you then. Can I get a thumbs-up?
[more thumbs-up all around]
Chazz: [voiceover] Godspeed, Spacetronauts! Catch you on the other side!
Robot Voice: T MINUS TWENTY SECONDS. NINETEEN. EIGHTEEN . . .
As the countdown commences, questions abound.
What are the Spacetronauts thinking as those numbers tick away? What frenzied, terrified, psyched, confused thoughts are invisibly ricocheting off the walls of that Boeing 737? What emotions are simmering to a boil beneath the glassy glare of those ten fishbowl helmets? Is regret one of them? How much do they know about the trueness or falseness of this thing they’ve signed their lives away for?
And what’s going to happen next?
As the countdown reaches zero, none of that matters anymore. With a deafening burst of acoustic energy, the full frame shudders, sending the limbs of the ten besuited travelers akimbo.
The vibrations intensify.
There is a deep, sonorous boom.
The lights flicker.
The scene cuts to an exterior shot of a nighttime rocket launch; ImmerseFX’s considerable visual-effects budget is in full regalia as a fireball blooms beneath the ship, chasing the darkness away. The glorified-vacuum-cleaner ship ascends—slow and jarring at first, then smoother, faster, higher,
.
light
a point of
nothing but
until it becomes
and fading
then shrinking
beginning to arch,
rising gracefully,
[END OF ACT TWO; CUT TO COMMERCIAL]
* * *
America holds its breath.
As NASAW holds its tongue.
Item: Transcript of video recording
Source: Dashboard camera, DV8 Company Van
Date: January 22, 2016—6 days prior to launch
[IMAGE: A large steel wall with a door set into it—the soundstage. One of the NASAW scientists opens the door to greet Chazz Young’s personal courier, Boris, who is seen getting out of his purple windowless van.]
Boris: I got a delivery for . . .
NASAW: [hurriedly getting up] Yep! I’ll take it.
Boris: You guys sure do use a lot of Styrofoam.
NASAW: [signing for the package] Yeah, well, that there’s a perfect metaphor for this entire operation. All fluff, no substance.
Boris: Lots of black fabric, too.
NASAW: To blanket the exterior of the ship, eliminating any rogue sources of light and muffling any external sounds.
Boris: And the duct tape?
NASAW: [chuckling] We’d have no space program at all without duct tape, my friend.
Boris: But what about this other stuff? The boxes marked “Fragile”—
NASAW: [stops laughing] Are none of your business.
Boris: I don’t mean to step out of bounds, buddy. I know my place. Pick up supplies from your L.A. headquarters and bring ’em out here. Why this isn’t something that FedEx could do, I have no idea—
NASAW: The materials are sensitive. They can’t be trusted with commercial delivery services.
Boris: I’ll say. Some of these boxes, they sort of—it sometimes seems like they hum—
NASAW: It doesn’t matter what they are. Or what they “seem” to do. Unload them and leave.
Boris: Listen, pal, this place ain’t exactly a stone’s throw away. If I gotta drive eleven hours to get out here every few days, I’d like to know that the contents in my van aren’t gonna give me radioactive poisoning or nothing—
NASAW: Unload them. And leave.
* * *
Item: Transcript of video broadcast
[continued]
[START OF ACT THREE]
Chazz: [in the studio] Welcome back, America. I’m now receiving word that the shuttle has reached an altitude of two hundred miles above sea level and is about to dock with the Laika. Shuttle, can you give us an update?
Robot Voice: CONTACT AND CAPTURE. SHUTTLE IS DOCKED.
[There are offscreen noises of celebration and applause from the DV8 crew. Chazz breaks out into a huge smile.]
Chazz: Spacetronauts, can you hear me? It’s now safe to unbuckle your seat belts, remove your spacesuits, and move into the airlock!
While the Spacetronauts shed their suits offscreen, Chazz explains that new advances in “astronomically scientific research” will allow the Spacetronauts to move about the ship without being subjected to the weightlessness of outer space. How this is being accomplished is illustrated with a graphic:
As if that thoroughly explains that, Chazz moves on to the big reveal.
Chazz: All right, the Spacetronauts have left the shuttle, sealed the outer airlock door, and are awaiting our signal. We are a go for Camera One!
Source: Camera #1—Airlock
[The cast members are clumped together in a room no bigger than a single-car garage. Some look nauseated; some dizzy. Their formerly lustrous uniforms have taken on a rumpled appearance. All of them seem glad to be out of the shuttle and are looking around the airlock with tangible anticipation.]
Chazz: [voiceover] And . . . enter!
[Jamarkus pushes a button. There is a whooshing noise. Nozzles set into the wall of the airlock emit a spray of vapor, like a fog machine. After thirty seconds, a large green light flashes and the door to the Laika opens.]
The Spacetronauts pour into the lounge. Immediately the Windows Window arrests their attention, stopping them in their tracks as they wordlessly gape at the stunning view of the stars and the tremendous blue marble of Earth below.
There is a brief, beautiful moment of pure awe.
Even Chazz shuts up, seeming to recognize this encounter for what it is: one of hushed reverence. He gives it to them, sinking into the grandeur for just the right amount of time, no doubt calculated down to the millisecond.
Source: Camera #3—Lünar Lounge
Chazz: [voiceover] Absolutely unbelievable.
So listen up, Spacetronauts: there are a few more super-crucial orders of business we need to address before I leave you to your adventures. Take a look at the control panel in front of you. In addition to the very cool buttons and levers and switches and shit, you’ll also find a ratings dial, plus a DV8 network indicator—that means we’re watching every move you make!
But as cool as these instruments are, it’s imperative that you not touch any of them without permission. Everyone got that? Ask the onboard computer first, then proceed once your request is granted. As the mission progresses, you will be faced with several grueling challenges, each with its own specific solution; using the wrong button to overcome them could be a dire and costly mistake. These instruments are the keys to your success—don’t waste them. Got it?
There is one exception to this rule. At the center of the control panel, you’ll find a big red I QUIT™ button. [An on-air graphic pops up at the bottom of the screen, informing viewers that they can order their very own I QUIT™ buttons from Sta
ples.com.] If you’ve finally had enough, if you’ve eaten your last morsel of space food, if your bunkmate has kicked you in the face for the last time, if you just can’t take it anymore, if you want nothing more than to get the ever-loving hell off that ship—just press the button. The inner airlock door will open, you’ll step inside, the door will close behind you, and you’ll wait for the NASAW shuttle to come pick you up and bring you back to Earth like the loser that you are. The most important thing to remember is that this is an irreversible function—once you press that button, you’re gone. You’re off the show, with no chance of winning the million space dollars. Got it?
[The Spacetronauts nod their assent.]
Chazz: Which leaves only one thing left to do: in your first test of cooperation and teamwork, you must collectively elect a leader—
Clayton: I call leader!
[Pushing others out of the way, Clayton strides to the front of the pack, as if his coronation is a foregone conclusion. But behind him, Jamarkus’s hand has shot straight up, followed by Louise’s. Ostensibly intimidated by the older boys, Louise lowers hers. Clayton scowls at Jamarkus.]
Titania: [to Jamarkus and Clayton] Tell us why you want to be leader, I guess.
Clayton: What? Why?
Titania: Because this is an election, not a power grab. Plead your cases.
Clayton: [glaring at her] My case is that I called it.
Titania: [to Jamarkus] And you?
Jamarkus: [opening his arms in a wide, friendly gesture] Fellow Spacetronauts, my name is Jamarkus. I’m an Eagle Scout and a National Aeronautic Scholarship finalist. I have over a thousand hours of flight-simulation training, and I am prepared to ensure your safety at all costs. It would be an honor and a privilege to lead such a remarkable group of courageous trailblazers.