Ok, before I begin I'd just like to pre-empt a couple of questions. Yes, Starship Troopers was a very sucky movie. Yes, this does contain my own version of the infamous shower scene. And NO, it's not explicit (you perverts).

  vs.   Starship Troopers

by Oliver Mulvey

(The story, like the movie, begins with the Federal Network logo plastered across the screen. Stirring, martial music is played over the news broadcast that follows.)

(The first shot is of a crowd of troopers. The camera focuses upon the faces of several of the Spice Girls, who are dressed as troopers, in turn.)

Announcer: Young people from all over the galaxy are joining up to help save humanity. Are you doing your part?

Posh: I'm doing my part.

Sporty: I'm doing my part.

Ginger: I'm doing my part.

Scary: What's my line again?

(The Federal Network logo appears again and is replaced by a shot of an asteroid hurtling towards Earth.)

Announcer: The bugs send another meteor our way. This time, we're ready. Earth's defenses are stronger than ever. Would you like to know more?

(A million copies of Spice Girls albums are compacted into a tiny bolt and fired into the asteroid, destroying it.)

(The Federal Network logo appears again.)

Announcer: We now take you live to Klendathau, the bug homeworld, where our invasion has just begun. We have reports that the Spice Girls themselves may be involved in the assault.

(EXT: Klendathau. A barren, dark, inhospitable world. The sky is illuminated by plasma blasts streaking into space. A reporter, wearing marine armour, addresses the camera.)

Reporter: Here we are on Klendathau, where the invasion has just begun. We don't yet know how things are going, but it looks like...

(The reported doubles up in pain and a spike shoots through his chest. The spike is the claw of an arachnid warrior, which closes in to finish off the reporter.)

(Suddenly, the arachnid recoils in pain as it is sprayed with machine gun fire. As it writes and dies, Posh, Ginger, Scary and Sporty run into the camera's field of view in full combat dress, firing wildly at the dying bug. With the bug dead, the girls take advantage of a momentary lull in the fighting to exchange a few words.)

Ginger (gesturing to a stunned looking Scary): Is she still out?

Sporty: Looks like it. Want me to take care of her?

Ginger: My God, you really do have a one-track mind.

Posh (muttering to herself): How the hell did I get here?

(A swarm of bug warriors approach. The girls fire their guns at them, but the weapons have little effect. The girls turn tail and run, firing to cover their retreat. However, Scary suddenly freezes and is left behind. As the bugs close in, Posh darts back and grabs her, startling her temporarily back to consciousness. Scary starts running again. Posh turns to do the same, but trips on the uneven ground. A bug closes in towards her.)

Posh: Oh, how the HELL did I get here?

(The bug takes a sweep at Posh with its claw, taking a chunk out of her leg.)

Posh: How the FUCKING HELL did I get here?

(Klendathau fades away as we enter a flashback. The words 'One Month Earlier' appear on screen.)

(INT: Plush London office. All five girls are present, talking with their accountant.)

Accountant: I have some bad news for you. Your last single sold three copies. Two of those were bought by the record company. Nobody has admitted to buying the other. It looks like your careers are over.

Posh: We knew this was going to happen sooner or later. I guess we can just retire and live on the money we've already made for the rest of our lives.

Accountant: Well, maybe. Just let me do some calculations.

(He taps some figures into his computer. He mutters words such as 'clothes', 'batteries', 'porn mags', 'drugs' and 'paperclips'.)

Accountant: Actually, your current wealth will only last you for a fortnight.

Ginger: So, how do we go about making some more?

Accountant: Your current failure seems to have come about because you've fallen out of touch with your target audience. You need to capitalise on some current trend.

Scary: What's the big thing at the moment?

(The girls look out the window. Military recruitment posters are pasted on every wall.)

Scary: Are we all thinking the same thing?

Baby: Duh?

Sporty: What? Don't tell me you're thinking about Posh in a vat of custard as well?

Posh: What? You bitch!

(A general melee breaks out.)

(INT. Recruiting station. The recruitment officer is explaining the procedure to the girls. David Beckham and Scary's husband, Jimmy Gulzar are also present.)

Recruitment officer: Before you can join, we need you to sit a simple test to determine your academic and psychological suitability. Based on the results, you'll be either rejected, assigned to mobile infantry, or assigned to fleet.

Beckham: Test... ? Ur... me... no... like... test.

Recruitment officer: Sorry, son, but those are the rules.

(Posh whispers something in Posh's ear. He grins.)

Beckham: Oh... me... do... test... then.

(The group is led away to a small examination room. A couple of super-geek overachievers are also in the examination room.)

(The examination begins. Posh, Sporty, Ginger, Scary and Jimmy struggle their way through the questions. Baby and Beckham scrawl randomly upon the paper. The super-geeks work quickly.)

Posh: Damn, these questions are hard. How am I supposed to know how to spell my name?

Ginger: My age? Hmm, how much makeup am I wearing today? What could I get away with?

(An examiner walks around and collects the papers. As he sits down to mark them, he spills his coffee over the papers, obliterating the names from the top. He sighs and prepares to take his best guess.)

(After the exam, the group stands around outside the examination room.)

Scary: Do you think we passed?

Posh: It doesn't matter. If we fail, then Ginger can just sleep with the examiner.

Ginger: Good idea. (She thinks for a moment) Hey, that was an insult.

(Ginger launches herself at Posh. They disappear in a cloud of blood and dust.)

Scary: Stop it, you two. The results are here.

Examiner: Ok, Adams, Brown, Chisholm, Gulzar, Halliwell, you just about scraped together enough marks to be accepted for mobile infantry. Bloggs, Smith (he points at the two super-geeks), the results show that you're too stupid to live. You'll be taken out and shot.

Posh: Oh my God, what are they going to do to David?

Examiner: Beckham, Bunton, you've managed to get superb scores. You'll be given fleet training.

Scary: Wow, what the hell have I been taking? This is surreal.

Posh: Wait a minute. Does this mean that I'm going to be separated from David? That he's going to go off alone with Baby? You know what he's like, he'll sleep with anything in sight.

Scary: Come on, even he's not dumb enough to sleep with that.

(She points to baby, who is drooling in the corner.)

Posh: Yeah, I suppose you're right.

(EXT: Training camp. The new mobile infantry recruits are lined up in the yard, being addressed by Sergeant Zim, the guy responsible for training.)

Zim: My God, I have never seen a more useless, ugly and incompetent bunch of morons than this.

(Ginger's face clouds over.)

Zim: The very sight of you makes me sick.

(Ginger looks pretty pissed.)

Zim: In fact, if I don't look away, I think I'm going to puke in your faces.

(Ginger is ready to explode.)

Zim: Then again, a bit of puke in your faces might improve you horrible lot.

Ginger: Shut up, you horrible little man. You can't talk to me like this. I'm rich. Besides, I've got GIRL POWER!

Zim: Oh yeah? Well, I've got...

(He socks Ginger in the face.)


(Ginger falls to the ground.)

Posh (giggling): Hey, that's my job.

Zim: What did you say?

(He smashes Posh in the face, knocking her out.)

(INT: Shuttlecraft. The shuttle is docked in an orbiting shipyard. Baby sits at the controls, with Beckham in the co-pilot's seat, preparing for the first stage of their fleet training.)

Beckham: Me... want... move.

Baby: Tee Hee.

(Baby slams the throttle forwards. The acceleration slams Baby backwards. She fumbles the stick, sending it whirling out of control. It spins around and sets itself on a collision course with a capital ship. At the last moment, one of her flailing limbs bashes the controls, sending the ship onto a safe, stable course. The g-force of the manoeuvre sends her spinning into Beckham's arms. Their eyes meet.)

Baby: Tee Hee

Beckham: Me... want... shag.

(EXT: Training camp assault course. The mobile infantry recruits tackle the assault course. Scary falls from a rope swing, landing in the mud below. Jimmy bends down to help her up.)

Jimmy: Here, grab my hand.

Scary (furious): No, you fucking get your fucking hand away from me you fucking fucker.

(The other girls watch, amazed.)

Posh: Wow! I guess their marriage isn't working out to well.

Ginger: Yeah. And I bet David's screwing Baby by now.

Posh: Bitch!

(INT: Barracks showers. The girls enter and notice that the showers are simply arranged in rows, with no segregation or cubicles.)

Posh: Oh no. No way. Forget it. I don't mind fighting my way over a muddy assault course, but this is too much.

Ginger: For once, I agree with her royal bichiness.

Posh: Really? I'd have thought you'd have been used to taking your clothes off in public.

Ginger: Not in front of Sporty.

Sporty (radiating innocence): Why? What's the problem?

Ginger: There's no way I'm taking my clothes off when you're watching.

Sporty: Why should I be watching? I wouldn't be interested, would I?

Ginger: Then why are you drooling?

Sporty: I'm not. I'm... err... panting. It's hot in here. We should get undressed.

Posh: I'm not going through with this. We should complain to Sergeant Zim.

Scary: Are you crazy? He'd shoot us.

Posh: That's what I was hoping.

Ginger: Look, there's no way out of this. We're just going to have to grit our teeth and get it over with.

(Reluctantly, Posh, Ginger and Scary undress {and this is as explicit as its getting}. However, Sporty doesn't move.)

Posh: Aren't you taking a shower, Mel?

Sporty (suddenly embarrassed): Err, no.

Posh: Really? Why not?

Sporty: I... I can't tell you.

(She turns and runs out.)

Ginger: Strange girl...

Scary: Bloody nutcase.

(INT: Barracks. Posh is watching a video message she has just received from Beckham.)

(In the video, Beckham is sat on his bed as he talks. The bedclothes are hunched over another, as yet unidentified form.)

Beckham: Hello... err... wossname... err... Posh. Me... miss... Posh. So... me... shag... Baby.

(The person under the bedclothes jabs him.)

Beckham: Err... no... me... NOT... shag... Baby... was... wot... me... meant... to... say. Errr... bye.

(Posh shuts of the playback device.)

Posh: I don't believe it. It's been three days. How could he?

Ginger: Three days? Hey, Scary, you owe me five dollars. I told you it would be less that a week.

Posh: You mean you were betting on how long it would take him to shag the little slut? You bitch.

Ginger: Hey, I'm not the one who got banged up by the asshole.

Posh: No, but every other male on the planet has had a pretty good go with you.

(INT: Capital Ship Bridge. The bridge is almost deserted, with the two trainees, Baby and Beckham, being the only form of watch.)

Beckham: Hur... Hur... Fancy... a... shag... ?

Baby: Tee Hee.

(As they exchange this witty banter, a large asteroid appears on the forward viewscreen.)

Beckham: Hur... Hur... Big... rock.

Baby: Duh!

(Beckham watches the asteroid as it hurtles towards the ship. He watches as it slams into the ship's hull. The ship scrapes along the asteroid, shards of twisted metal flying off. The ship somehow survives the impact and is left floating adrift. The asteroid continues on its course towards Earth.)

(EXT: Trooper Training Live fire range. The recruits are given a safety briefing.)

Zim: In this exercise, you will be firing live ammunition. You will be in no danger so long as you follow two simple rules. Do nothing stupid. Do not point your gun at another human. Do you hear me? DO NOT POINT YOUR GUN AT ANOTHER HUMAN!

(The exercise begins and the recruits start blasting away at targets.)

Scary (muttering to herself): Christ, what did they cut this shit with. I feel crap. No, calm down. I'll be OK as long as I remember those two rules. What were they? Do nothing stupid and... err... come on... dammit...

(Scary finishes off her targets, then turns to Ginger and calmly puts a bullet through her skull.)

Scary: Oh shit! I remember now. We weren't supposed to shoot people, were we?

Zim: Medic! We've got a dead one here!

Ginger (sitting up): Oooh, my head. That stings.

Zim: What the hell? That bullet went right through. Look, I can see through your head.

Posh: Hmm, I think that by going through the head, the bullet managed to miss anything vital.

Zim: You know, I tell all my recruits that they're the dumbest scum I've ever seen. With you lot, I mean it.

Posh: Right, that does it. We're not taking any more of this.

Sporty: We quit.

Scary: I've had enough of this crap.

Jimmy: Yeah, me too.

Scary: Shut up, you. If I'd wanted your opinion, I'd have beat it out of you.

(The group turn and start to walk out of the training compound. As they do, the other recruits break into an uproar and rush to a video monitor, where a news broadcast is beginning. The group head to the screen.)

(The screen shows images of ruined buildings, smoke pouring from their windows.)

News Anchor: ... hundreds dead. Miraculously, the arachnid-launched meteor broke up on entry into the atmosphere, limiting damage to a few sites.

Scary (dismissive): Oh, this is just another silly natural disaster. Nothing interesting.

News Anchor: This warehouse, believed to be used in the manufacture of narcotics was among the sites hit.

Scary: Say What! The bastards.

News Anchor: These pictures just in. The central offices of the notorious 'Razzle' magazine, reduced to rubble by the impact.

Sporty: Noooo! (She pauses) Of course, I'm just upset on general principals. I've never read Razzle before, honest.

News Anchor: Several pedestrians were injured when a rock fragment his this street corner, in a run down area of London.

Ginger: Hey, that place had sentimental value.

News Anchor: The final affected area seems to be this enormous complex, which was used for the storage of certain unknown materials. Shreds of fabric have been found among the wreckage. Would you like to know more?

Posh: I don't believe it. They blew up my fucking wardrobe. That does it. I say we fight. Let's show these bugs what girl power really means.

Sporty: Oh yeah, I've been meaning to ask. Could you tell me what that means again.

Posh: It means, like, err...

Sporty: Cool. Girl Power!

(INT: Staging area. The staging area is a huge space station where marines and fleet personnel are preparing for the assault on Klendathau, the arachnid homeworld. The new mobile infantry recruits weave their way across a crowded deck, only to come face-to-face with Beckham.)

Posh (icy): Hello, David.

Beckham: Err... Hi... Posh...

Posh: So, have you been screwing Baby?

Beckham: Yeah... Duh... Me... mean... no...

Posh: I knew it. Where is the little bitch? Somebody fetch me a pulse rifle.

Scary: Calm down. It's not worth it.

Sporty: Besides, what's a pulse rifle?

Posh: Erm, aren't those guns we use called pulse rifles.

Sporty: No.

Posh: Sorry, must have drifted into another film for a moment.

Sporty: I wonder how that could have happened. Can you think of any films that the events from this point on are a blatant rip off of?

(INT: Dropship Bay. Marines start pouring onto their dropships, ready for launch. The girls are loaded onto a dropship and strapped into position. A hard-as-nails sergeant walks up the aisle in the centre of the dropship.)

Sergeant: I am ready, man. Ready to get it on. Check-it-out. I am the ultimate badass...state of the badass art. You do not want to fuck with me. Hey, Ripley, don't worry. Me and my squad of ultimate badasses will protect you. Check-it-out...

Hold on, these aren't my lines. I'm in the wrong damn movie. Who's Ripley, anyway?

(EXT: Klendathau orbit. The fleet's capital ships release dropships towards the planet.)

(INT: Capital Ship Bridge: Baby and Beckham are present, seated either side of the Captain. They watch as plasma bolts start to streak up from the planet.)

Baby: Duh?

Beckham: Wot... Dis?

Captain: Bug plasma. Don't worry, as long as we hold our course, it won't hit us.

(INT: Dropship. The occupants are jolted around as the craft dives through the atmosphere.)

Sergeant: Remember your training and you will make it back alive.

Scary: Huh? We had training?

(INT: Capital Ship Bridge. The plasma blasts increase in frequency and power, but so far, no ships have been hit.)

Captain: Steady as she goes. If we hold this course, we're safe.

(All Beckham has to do is leave the controls alone. As long as he does nothing, he's OK. Those big buttons start to look tempting. Can he withstand the temptation? What do you think?)

(The ship lurches hard to starboard, clipping a plasma blast. It collides with another ship, sending that ship spinning into another two ships. A chain reaction begins throughout the fleet.)

(EXT: Klendathau surface. The dropships touch down. The girls and Jimmy disembark and clamber to a vantage point, which gives them a better view of the unfolding battle. Things aren't going well. Marines are being slaughtered by arachnids. Posh pulls out a communicator and talks to the fleet.)

Posh: We need air support fast. What do you mean 'What's air support'? Are you people stupid.

Scary: This isn't good, is it?

Ginger: This situation is almost as bad as Posh's singing.

Posh (To Ginger): I heard that, you bitch. (She returns her attention to the communicator.) No, I wasn't talking to you. Ok, how about some tanks? They could make a real mess of these bugs... . Surely you know what tanks are? You don't? Great.

Sporty: I'm scared. Somebody hold me.

Ginger: Piss off, dyke.

Posh (speaking slowly, as if to an imbecile): Now, let's say you were to take a car and put some armour plating on it...

Sporty: I'm not a dyke. I am scared.

Ginger: Ok, I believe half of that.

Posh: Then you'd put a big gun on the top.

Scary: Cheer up. We've survived worse than this before.

Ginger: Such as?

Posh: Yes, it is clever, isn't it? Now, do you think you could have some of these tank thingies down here in the next fifteen minutes? No? Well fuck you!

(She throws the communicator down in disgust.)

Posh: Bollocks. It looks like we're...

(She is interrupted by the arrival of an arachnid warrior. The bug rushes the group and knocks Scary off her feet. It raises itself over her and prepares for the kill. At the last moment, Jimmy runs at it, firing his machine gun. The bug drops to the ground, dead. Scary is still very much alive.)

Scary: You bastard! How could you do that to me? You know I've always wanted to be eaten alive by a giant bug. You're just fucking trying to fucking fuck me off.

(She turns her gun on Jimmy and blast him. He dies instantly.)

Posh: That's certainly an effective way of ending a marriage.

Scary (realisation dawning): Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Ginger: Looks like she's out for the duration.

Sporty: Hey, look over there. That guy's got a camera.

Posh: Cool, we can be on TV. That should sell a few records.

(EXT: Klendathau surface. We have now reached the point at which the story began. The reporter is killed, the girls are forced to flee. Posh falls in the path of a bug, which cripples her.)

Posh: How the FUCKING HELL did I get here?

(The bug prepares to deliver a killing blow. At the last moment, it is torn apart by machine gun fire. We fade to black.)

(INT: Staging Area Medical bay. Posh, Ginger, Scary and Sporty, all battered and beaten await their latest orders.)

Scary: I hear we've been reassigned.

Ginger: Yeah. I wonder why the guy who told us kept giggling.

Posh: Maybe our new commander's a real nutcase.

(The new commander enters. It is none other than Simon Fuller. Remember him? The Spice Girls ex-manager. The one they publicly humiliated and sacked.)

Fuller: My, my, if it isn't you little bitches.

Ginger: Er... hi Simon. What a coincidence. This isn't implausible at all. What're you doing here?

Fuller: Shut your face, you ugly turd. (Posh nods emphatically.) Don't you remember, you sacked me. You didn't even tell me why, you just shouted some shit about 'Girl Power.'

Ginger: Ooops, sorry. But how did you end up here? Why did you join the military.

Fuller: Nobody else would employ me. They saw how I'd created you and started to look at me like some kind of Frankenstein. I couldn't take it. Do you have any idea what it's like to be forever associated with a bunch of morons like you?

Ginger (hopeful): Fun, in a profitable kind of way?

Fuller: It's hell. Sheer hell. And that's what your lives are going to be from now on. I have only one rule in my outfit. You will die. If you try to run away, I'll kill you myself. If you try to defend yourselves, I'll kill you myself. If I don't like the way you look at me, I'll kill you myself.

Scary: It almost sounds like you want to kill us.

Fuller: Why should I? The bugs could make it far more painful for you.

Posh: The bugs? You mean we've got to fight them again.

Fuller: Damn right. We've lost contact with our outpost on planet K...

Posh: What genius thinks up these names?

Ginger: Somebody a thousand times smarter than you, bitch.

Posh: That must make them a million times smarter than you, whore.

(Predictably, the blood starts flying.)

Fuller: Oh, for fucks sake, let's just get going. The sooner you bitches are dead, the better.

(EXT: Planet K. Like every other alien planet in this film, Planet K is a barren desert like world. Several cheap looking plastic shrubs dot the landscape. The girls' platoon files through a narrow ravine.)

(Suddenly, an arachnid warrior jumps out at the troopers. It is cut down by a hail of fire. Posh, standing closest to the bug, is sprayed by its blood.)

Posh: Arrgh. Help me. I'm melting, I'm meltinnnggg...

Scary: No you're not.

Posh: I bloody well am. Look, I'm covered in its blood. These things have acid for blood.

Scary: No they don't.

Posh: Oops. Was I in the wrong film again?

Ginger: This blatant plagiarism is starting to piss me off.

(EXT: Derelict base camp. Corpses of fallen troopers are strewn over the base, in various states of dessication.)

Posh: Eew, I'm not going in there. I'll get blood all over my clothes.

Fuller: Ok, it's your decision. You can either go in there, or else I'll shoot you.

Posh: Can I have a moment to think about that?

(The troopers enter the compound and start inspecting the corpses. One of the other troopers beckons Ginger over to inspect a corpse. There's a hole in the corpse's skull.)

Trooper: What do you make of this?

(The trooper pokes his hand through the hole in the skull. The skull is empty.)

Ginger: Hmm, is this some new kind of body piercing?

Trooper: Don't you notice anything odd?

Ginger: Yeah, that hair spray he used really sucked.

Trooper: They ate his brain.

Ginger: But that shouldn't be fatal, should it?

(Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of a thousand angry arachnids approaching the base. Most of the troopers dash to the walls and start firing at the oncoming horde. Ginger runs to a transmitter and sends a distress signal.)

Ginger: We are under attack. Request immediate evac.

Controller: What're the co-ordinates for the evac?

Ginger: Bring the dropship down in the compound.

Controller: In the compound? That's stupid.

Ginger: Then I hope you have a stupid pilot.

Controller: Now that you mention it...

(At the walls of the base, the troopers are struggling to hold back the bugs, firing wildly into their ranks. Troopers, including Fuller, are cut down in vast numbers.)

Posh: Goddamit, why do these things always happen to us?

Scary: Oh, this happens to me all the time.

Posh: Really?

Scary: Sure. Any minute now, my socks are going to turn into giant watermelons and start chasing me around.

Posh: Mel, this is reality, not some drug-induced hallucination.

Scary: You sure? Shit.

(An irregular whine comes from above. A dropship makes a shaky descent towards the compound. It bounces off mountains and canyon walls, eventually jerking to a stop in the compound, squashing a couple of troopers in the process. The surviving troopers turn to run for the dropship. As she runs, Ginger is speared through the shoulder by an arachnid. The bug begins to drag her off.)

Ginger (hysterical): Help me! For God's sake, do something. I'll do anything.

Sporty: Wait a moment. Anything?

Ginger: Anything at all.

Sporty: Cool.

(A few well placed shots stop the arachnid. Sporty runs to help Ginger up. As Ginger hobbles to the dropship, another arachnid seizes her and tears her apart in its claws.)

Sporty: No! I don't fucking believe it! Just when I was in with a chance.

Scary: A chance of what?

Sporty: Um... Ah... Saving another person's life, of course.

Scary: Liar.

(Scary and Sporty continue their dash for the dropship, pausing only to pick up Posh, who is paralytic with laughter.)

(INT: Dropship. The surviving marines dash onboard. However, they're not out of trouble yet. Their pilot is none other than baby, with Beckham in the co-pilot's seat.)

Posh: For fuck's sake, get us out of here.

Baby: Duh?

Posh: Take off!

Baby: Tee Hee.

Posh (desperate): Duh! Tee Hee Duh!

Baby (realisation dawning): Tee Hee.

(The dropship rockets skyward, back to the fleet.)

(INT: Capital Ship Hangar Bay. Ginger's funeral is taking place, with Posh delivering the obituary.)

Posh: We are gathered here today to say farewell to one of music's most unique talents. Nobody else in the music industry would have had the courage or the dedication to make a career out of flashing her tits. Nobody else would have dared to join a vocal group despite not being able to sing at all. Throughout her life, Geri was always somebody who would defy convention, so I'm going to honour her memory by defying the convention that you shouldn't be nasty about people at their funeral.

I wish I could say I had been Geri's friend, but I wasn't. In fact, I hated her guts. I hated the way she'd sleep with anybody who'd give her five dollars. I hated the way she stole my batteries. I hated the fact that she always got more attention than me. But most of all, I hated the fact that she was such a fucking slut.

Still, we must not forget the positive aspects of her life. She provided sexual pleasure to many sad and lonely individuals who would otherwise never have experienced it. She provided a role model for millions of young girls. Admittedly, she taught them that pornography was OK and that they should sell their bodies to get ahead, but it was the thought that counted. Above all, she gave me the great pleasure of outliving her to make this speech. I now commend her ashes to the stars.

(Ginger's coffin is pushed out of an airlock. Posh grins evilly and touches a button by her side. A laser blast streaks from the capital ship, vaporising the coffin.)

(EXT: Planet P. The troops have just returned to the planet. The newly promoted Posh briefs her platoon.)

Posh: Alright people, I only have one rule. (She concentrates as she tries to remember Fuller's earlier briefing.) I die. If I shoot you myself, you will run away. That's not quite right, but you see what I'm getting at. Anyway, we're supposed to be trying to capture some sort of brain bug. This is a bug that's smart. Personally, I'd always thought that bugs were smart, so I guess we'll have to be careful with this one. Any questions?

Trooper: Who's the asshole that put you in charge?

Posh: I'm warning you, don't cross me. You saw what happened to Ginger. (She grins.)

(INT: Capital Ship Bridge. The bridge is manned exactly as it was during the Klendathau operation. As before, plasma starts to rise from the planet.)

Captain: Ok, let's see if we can do it properly this time. Just hold a straight and level course.

(Can Beckham do it? Can he hell. As before, the bridge bursts into flames as the fleet is overtaken by disaster. Beckham and Baby manage to make their way to an escape pod and blast away from their doomed ship. As they enter the planet's atmosphere, Beckham sends out a distress call.)

Beckham: Me... need... help... Me... falling... fast.

(EXT: Planet P. Posh picks up the distress call on her radio.)

Posh: David, is that you? Can you hear me?

Beckham: Posh... Me... need... help.

Posh: Hold on. We'll be right there.

(The shuttle plummets through the atmosphere, striking the ground near Posh's position. The force of the impact carries the escape pod through the ground into a cave. As Beckham and Baby emerge from the pod, they are surrounded and dragged by several arachnids.)

(INT: Cave. Posh leads her troops into the cave. They come to a fork in the path.)

Posh: The left fork leads to the brainbug's last reported position. However, Newt's position is down the right fork.

Scary: Newt?

Posh: Damn, I mean David and Baby. I'll need two stupid volunteers to help me.

(Two hands go up. Guess who.)

(INT: Arachnid chamber. Beckham and Baby are thrown to the floor. A huge brainbug advances towards them. It heads for Beckham and extends a wicked looking suction tube. The tube is rammed through Beckham's skull. The brainbug begins to suck. A look of puzzlement crosses its alien face. It sucks harder, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Posh, Sporty and Scary arrive and watch from the background.)

Beckham (unfazed by the tube in his head): Me... love... you... Baby.

Baby: Tee Hee.

Posh: What the hell? That bastard never told me he loved me.

(Posh leaps forward and blasts Beckham and Baby into tiny pieces with her gun. When she stops firing, several arachnid warriors advance on her.)

Posh: Uh-Oh. I think I just used up all my ammo.

(The girls run back down the tunnel from which they emerged. They stop as they find their route blocked by another squad of marines. The bugs press in on them. The girls block the marines' line of fire, preventing them from shooting the bugs. The arachnids quickly and efficiently tear Posh, Scary and Sporty apart with their claws. The soldiers prepare to fire. Then, the bugs turn around and saunter off back to their chamber.)

Commander (over radio): Attention all troops, it looks like the bugs are breaking off from combat all over the planet.

Platoon commander: They must just have wanted to kill the Spice Girls.

Trooper: Hey, maybe these bugs aren't so bad after all. Let's go home.


Spice Girls Die Violent Deaths is copyright of Cloud Volpe. Starship Troopers is copyright of Columbia Tristar Interactive. Spice Girls vs. Starship Troopers is copyright of Oliver Mulvey. Do not reproduce without the author's consent.

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