Wombatman
A superhero epic
by William M. Razavi
A city street. Night. A woman walking alone, with a purse. She is being eyed by a thug next to some sort of rubbish bin type thing.
NARRATOR: In the darkest night–
The woman walks. The thug leers.
NARRATOR: Of the darkest street–
The woman stops. The thug approaches.
NARRATOR: Of the darkest city–
The woman turns. The thug menaces. The woman screams.
NARRATOR: Only one hope–
The thug accosts the woman. The woman struggles.
NARRATOR: One man–
The thug takes the purse and pushes the woman to the ground.
THUG: There’s a good girl.
NARRATOR: Can save the day.
WOMAN: Help!
NARRATOR: One hope–
THUG: No one’s going to help you.
NARRATOR: One dark furry creature–
WOMAN: Someone help me!
NARRATOR: One brave Australian–
WOMAN: Help!
NARRATOR: One hero–
WOMAN: For God’s sake someone just please hurry up and save me!
NARRATOR: Wombatman.
A caped figure with pointed ears appears in the shadows.
WOMBATMAN: Unhand her.
THUG: Screw you!
WOMBATMAN: Very well then, I shall bite you.
THUG: What?
Wombat man steps into the light. He has a furry cape and furry ears and a determined, but somewhat cute expression. Not quite fierce, not quite menacing, but vengeful as a wombat.
WOMBATMAN: I shall bite you.
Wombatman makes some sort of highpitched whining/buzzing sound and shuffles over to the Thug, who is too mesmerized by the spectacle to move. Wombatman grabs the Thug’s hand and bites the Thug’s wrist.
THUG: Ow! You bit me!
Wombatman continues to gnaw on the wrist.
THUG: Stop it! Stop it!
Wombatman ceases gnawing and drops the Thug’s hand.
WOMBATMAN: Give the lady her purse back.
THUG: Take it.
The Thug drops the purse and kicks it over to the woman.
WOMBATMAN: Now tell the lady you’re sorry.
THUG: Piss off.
Wombatman bites the Thug’s wrist.
THUG: Ow! I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Wombatman ceases to bite.
THUG: You’re crazy.
Wombatman hisses/growls/purrs. The Thug runs away.
WOMAN: You’re my hero.
Wombatman blushes.
WOMAN: Who are you?
WOMBATMAN: I’m Wombatman.
Wombatman bows and shuffles out.
WOMAN: Wombatman!
Lights change.
NARRATOR: Meanwhile, at the Bruce winery, Australian vintner Bruce Bruce ponders what to do at his next wine tasting.
Bruce tastes a smidgen of wine. It is awful.
BRUCE: Albert!
Albert enters. Albert is a butler.
ALBERT: Yes sir?
BRUCE: Have you tasted this new batch?
ALBERT: I don’t make a habit of trying wine before it’s been bottled.
BRUCE: Try this, it’s awful.
ALBERT: Very well.
Albert tries the wine.
BRUCE: Well?
ALBERT: Indeed, sir. It is awful. Do you intend to sell it?
BRUCE: I certainly don’t intend to drink any more of it myself.
ALBERT: I should hope not, sir.
BRUCE: I just can’t stand the idea of putting my label on this.
Bruce drinks another shot of it and passes it to Albert.
ALBERT: Indeed, sir. That would be a travesty.
Albert drinks some more.
BRUCE: But we have to sell it somehow. Otherwise the whole batch is clodhop.
Bruce drinks again and passes it to Albert.
ALBERT: What if you put it in boxes?
BRUCE: Boxes?
ALBERT: People will drink anything out of a box.
Bruce drinks and thinks.
BRUCE: I…think…that’s…fucking…BRILLIANT! You’re a genius, Albert! We can even sell it in America.
A doorbell or some such implement.
ALBERT: The door, sir.
BRUCE: Let’s hide.
Bruce hides. The bell rings again.
ALBERT: Oh, dear. I’ll get that.
BRUCE: I’m still hiding.
Albert goes to the door-like area returning with Jane Smith and Inspector Tennyson.
ALBERT: Sir, it’s Inspector Tennyson and a guest.
BRUCE: I’m hiding.
JANE: I didn’t realize Mr. Bruce was such a recluse.
Bruce pops up.
BRUCE: I’m a monkey!
Bruce screeches and runs around like a monkey.
BRUCE: Wait! Now I’m a koala!
Bruce moves slowly and chews on something leafy.
JANE: This is very strange.
TENNYSON: Well, the Bruces have long been very important to the economy of our community and as such are allowed to do anything they want within reason while we sit by and wish we could have all their money.
JANE: I see. That’s off the record, I presume?
TENNYSON: Absolutely.
BRUCE: Albert?
ALBERT: Yes, sir?
BRUCE: Is that a lady?
ALBERT: Yes, sir.
BRUCE: Why didn’t you say so? Hello, I’m Bruce Bruce.
TENNYSON: And this is Jane Smith.
BRUCE & JANE: Pleased to meet you.
JANE: I’m a reporter.
BRUCE: Yes…well…um…I’m not really a monkey.
TENNYSON: I’ll get straight to the point, Bruce. This city is going to be in the crapper getting crapped on any minute unless you can help so that we don’t have to be crapped on. You know.
BRUCE: Ah-hah! A crappy caper! Anything I can do, Inspector.
TENNYSON: As you know, for a long time now New South Wales Industries has been developing software and they are now ready to unveil an operating system that can compete with anything ever conceived before.
ALBERT: Project Fang?
TENNYSON: Yes, Project Fang.
BRUCE: Albert, I didn’t know you were computer friendly. Hmm…you learn something new every day.
ALBERT: Yes, sir.
TENNYSON: There’s only one problem with Project Fang. It’s attracted the attention of the most conniving villain known to mankind–Bill Gates.
BRUCE: That’s one tough character.
TENNYSON: We suspect he’s been gathering as many villainous henchmen as he can find here. He may already have been involved in the robbery of a bakery in Melbourne and the murder of a zookeeper in Hobart.
BRUCE: That’s pretty villainous. I mean, if our bakeries and zoos aren’t safe, then none of us are safe.
TENNYSON: None of this holds a candle to the latest caper. We think Bill Gates is working together with a new arch-villain–The Dingo Lady.
BRUCE: The Dingo Lady? Never heard of her.
JANE: She steals babies.
BRUCE: That’s terrible.
JANE: Then she eats their brains.
BRUCE: That’s disgusting.
Everyone ponders this for a moment.
TENNYSON: That’s not even the most terrible part.
BRUCE: How can that not be the most terrible part?
JANE: We think that Bill Gates is purchasing the baby remainders from the Dingo Lady.
BRUCE: That’s just sick. What would he do with them?
JANE: Microsoft Office 2003 XB is made with the livers and pancreases of infants.
BRUCE: NO!
JANE: Yes.
BRUCE: NO!
TENNYSON: Yes.
ALBERT: NO!
Everyone nods.
BRUCE: What do we do?
ALBERT: Stop drinking this wine.
TENNYSON: We need to use the furry phone.
BRUCE: Right. The furry phone. Albert, why don’t you bring in the furry phone?
ALBERT: Yes, sir. Is there anything else you’d like me to bring?
BRUCE: No, no. I think we’re alright here.
ALBERT: Yes, sir.
Albert exits.
BRUCE: Well, there we go.
TENNYSON: If you need to go, we can manage alright here.
BRUCE: No, of course not–unless–
TENNYSON: Yes, of course.
BRUCE: Oh, yes. Well. You know. The phone.
TENNYSON: I mean you’ll want to check the line and such.
BRUCE: Yes, yes. I’ll go check the line.
Bruce exits.
TENNYSON: Some secret identities are better protected than others.
JANE: Of course. Shall we try the wine?
They drink. Albert enters with a phone covered in fur. Tennyson picks up the line.
Wombatman enters.
WOMBATMAN: You rang?
NARRATOR: Meanwhile, in the city the minions of evil gather.
The street. Enter the Dingo Lady. She is dressed in some ridiculously flamboyant manner and maybe has a bib with the Gerber baby on it.
DINGO LADY: You can come out now.
BILL GATES: Are you sure it’s safe?
DINGO LADY: Sure, sure. I’m the most dangerous person here.
Bill Gates comes out from hiding. He is costumed as a classic computer geek, circa 1983-84.
DINGO LADY: That last baby had some very tasty brains.
BILL GATES: What about the liver? Did you remember the pancreas?
DINGO LADY: I put them in a doggie bag for you, as usual. Do you have to be such a micro-controller?
BILL GATES: I must control everything. I am Bill Gates. I created computers as we know them. I am the beginning and the end of the digital revolution. I am Bill Gates.
I am somebody.
DINGO LADY: I don’t use computers.
BILL GATES: Soon–very soon–you, and everyone else will have to use computers–my computers. Bill Gates’ computers. I have a dream. I have a dream that people will wake up because my computer shot an electrical pulse into their brain. And when they wake up their digital multi-suit will guide them to their terminal where they will plug in for their daily activities. They will think when I tell them to think, they will eat when I tell them to eat. They will think what I tell them to think, they will eat what I tell them to eat. We will eliminate crime and poverty and individual analog thought. Even Ted Kaczynski will be plugged in and he’ll love it. We’re going to need a lot more little pancreases.
DINGO LADY: That might be a problem. There’s not a huge population here.
There’s only so many babies that can disappear here before people start noticing.
BILL GATES: I’ve thought of that. That’s why we're moving the operation to India.
DINGO LADY: India?!
BILL GATES: They have a huge population. A good dingo can track in hundreds or even thousands and no one will even notice.
DINGO LADY: India doesn’t have dingoes. People will notice.
BILL GATES: Maybe I’ll have to get a new partner. I’m sure you have an equivalent over there like Killer Jerboa Woman or Enraged Elephant Man.
DINGO LADY: If you want to disrupt our agreement, go ahead, I’m perfectly willing to taste your brain too.
BILL GATES: Now, let’s not get hasty. I’m sure we can work this out.
DINGO LADY: Oh, you bet we’re going to work this out.
BILL GATES: It was just an idea. I didn’t mean it. Let’s just delete it and pretend I never said it.
DINGO LADY: Maybe we need to renegotiate.
BILL GATES: I’ll give you double what I’m giving you now just for not eating my brain.
DINGO LADY: You have a deal.
NARRATOR: Meanwhile back at the Bruce winery.
Bruce and Jane are drinking more of the awful pre-boxed wine.
BRUCE: Isn’t this stuff really awful?
JANE: It’s terrible.
They drink some more of it.
JANE: So…tell me…Bruce Bruce…What’s it like to be a superhero?
BRUCE: It’s a bit of a burden.
JANE: Do you care to elaborate?
BRUCE: Well, there just aren’t that many superheroes on this continent. Oh, sure there was Enraged Koala Man back in the ‘30s and ‘40s but since then we’ve only had a few and now it’s just a half-dozen of us, plus Super Kiwi, The Big Maori, and Mr. Tasmania.
JANE: Do you get together with your fellow superheroes?
BRUCE: Big Can of Fosters and I go way back so we meet every week, but with the rest we’re so busy between fighting crime and enforcing justice that we have precious little time for our secret identities, much less going to regular meetings. Take this wine.
JANE: Okay.
BRUCE: If I hadn’t been busy biting the forces of evil this could have been great wine.
I mean really great. We could have put it in bottles and put labels on the bottles and then sold the bottles–with wine in them.
They have another drink.
BRUCE: But now? It’s just something to put in a box with pictures of grapes on it and we have to sell that. Isn’t it just a shame?
JANE: I guess.
The doorbell. Albert enters. Inspector Tennyson enters.
BRUCE: Let’s hide.
JANE: Is this a wombat thing?
BRUCE: You know, I hadn’t thought of that before.
Inspector Tennyson enters.
TENNYSON: Albert, we need the furry phone!
ALBERT: Yes, sir.
Albert goes out to get the furry phone.
BRUCE: Would you like some wine?
TENNYSON: Very well.
BRUCE: Would you like a glass or straight from the box?
TENNYSON: Do you have a small box?
Bruce pours from a large box into a smaller box.
TENNYSON: Bottoms up.
Bruce and Jane both bend over.
TENNYSON: This is some powerful wine.
Albert enters with the furry phone.
ALBERT: The phone, sir.
TENNYSON: Right.
Tennyson makes the call. Bruce’s cellphone goes off.
BRUCE: Right. That’s for me. I love this new technology.
Bruce winks at Inspector Tennyson.
TENNYSON: Wombatman, we have an emergency.
BRUCE: Right. I’ll look into that right away. I have to go check into the box deliveries to make sure we have the right kind of boxes.
TENNYSON: Do you think we can stop Dingo Lady before she eats another baby?
BRUCE: Right. I’ll make sure our boxes are the right shape. I’ll have to go get my costume for that, of course. Albert, why don’t you fetch my special looking at boxes costume.
ALBERT: The one that makes you look like a Wombat?
BRUCE: That’s the one.
ALBERT: Very well, sir.
Albert fetches the costume.
BRUCE: No sense wasting time with the secret identity scam among friends.
More wine?
ALL: Okay.
NARRATOR: Several hours later, in the city.
A woman enters pushing a baby carriage. She is immediately accosted by the Dingo Lady.
DINGO LADY: I’ll be taking that baby, thank you very much.
She takes the baby. It’s not a baby.
DINGO LADY: This isn’t a baby. It’s cheese.
Tennyson removes a disguise.
TENNYSON: That’s right, Dingo Lady. Now you’re through.
BILL GATES: Not so fast, Inspector.
Bill Gates throws a few computer-nerd style kung-fu punches in the air and scares no one. But this gives Dingo Lady just enough time to take a kick and punch to the Inspector, who doubles over.
TENNYSON: Help!
Wombatman and Albert appear. Music. A fight. Wombatman does nothing at first while Albert goes to kick Bill Gates’ ass.
WOMBATMAN: Unhand my Butler!
BILL GATES: Make me!
WOMBATMAN: Very well, I shall bite you.
BILL GATES: What?
Wombatman shuffles over slowly but determinedly and bites Bill Gates.
BILL GATES: Owwww! He bit me!
Wombatman continues to gnaw away.
BILL GATES: I’ll pay you to stop. Help me, Mommy!
DINGO LADY: Why don’t you pick a fight with a real superhero?
WOMBATMAN: Very well, I shall bite you.
DINGO LADY: Just try.
Music resumes. A new fight. Dingo Lady eludes the Wombatman for a while.
Tennyson and Albert kick Bill Gates’ ass.
DINGO LADY: Not so tough now, are you?
WOMBATMAN: I shall bite you.
DINGO LADY: Hah!
This time Wombatman emits a very determined buzzing sound that confuses the Dingo Lady who is too mesmerized to move. Wombatman shuffles over to her and bites her.
DINGO LADY: Oww! You’re biting me. This is no way to treat a lady.
Dingo Lady struggles. As she gets free her disguise is unveiled.
WOMBATMAN: Jane?!
DINGO LADY: Some secret identities are better protected than others, Bruce.
WOMBATMAN: How could you eat babies?
DINGO LADY: It’s the brains…they’re just so tasty.
WOMBATMAN: I’m going to have to take you in now.
DINGO LADY: Not if I have anything to say about it.
Another fight. Dingo Lady escapes.
DINGO LADY: Sorry, Bruce. It was lovely.
WOMBATMAN: I shall bite you!
ALBERT: Wine, sir?
WOMBATMAN: Oh, very well.
Bruce drinks, dejected.
TENNYSON: At least we got Bill Gates.
BILL GATES: This isn’t the end of me.
BRUCE: This wine is awful.
Everyone has another drink.
ALL: Yes, it is.
Blackout.