FADE IN:

INT. TRUSCUN'S DOME - NIGHT

TRUSCUN SN PIERR is sleeping in his bedtree but is perched precariously. A troubled expression crosses his face. Numerous others are barely visible laying on the floor. Truscun twitches, shifts, and tumbles from the limb to the floor a few feet below, landing with a hard THUMP. He opens his eyes, disoriented and stunned, and gasps for breath.

The noise rouses many of those who lie near the bedtree, including CLINOHUMITE, a fanged man with striped fur and bright eyes.

CLINOHUMITE
(In a raspy voice.)
He's off his limb again.

Truscun whimpers with pain. He reaches across his chest with his left hand and squeezes his right shoulder, working the pain from the joint. He looks around as a few men converge around him.

CLINOHUMITE
Get him up. The spyjuice's efficacy fades. He needs a familiar setting to be of any use to us.

Truscun squeezes his eyes shut, as though this will banish the others from existence.

CLINOHUMITE
Wrap him around the trunk.

A few men surround Truscun. Hands grab his torso and lift his body. His limbs flop down, withered muscles and atrophied ligaments strained against gravity's pull. They lift his body up from the dirt floor and tilt from horizontal to vertical. His face slaps against the bedtree's crystal trunk, leaving marks from the knobs and knots imprinted in his flesh. They lower him to straddle the main branch. Hands pull his limbs around the trunk, hugging it.

CLINOHUMITE
Give him another dose.

STRIPED MAN #1
(In a sniveling voice.)
We're running low.

Clinohumite spins 180 degrees to face Striped Man #1, and claws at him.

CLINOHUMITE
And we'll never get more if he can’t perform.

Striped Man #1 YELPS. The two men begin fighting in the darkness. The other men form a circle around the fighters. Clinohumite is clearly the superior combatant. He tosses Striped Man #1 to the dirt floor and pounces onto him.

BYSTANDERS
Pierce him. Teach him a lesson. Flay his ugly skin.

Loose dirt scatters and peppers the walls. Striped Man #1 emits a harsh, deflating wheeze.

CLINOHUMITE
(In a demanding tone.)
Give him another dose.

Clinohumite continues flaying the other man's chest with his claws. In the bedtree, Truscun opens his eyes wide, seemingly no longer aware of the fight below.

TRUSCUN
(In a weak voice drowned out by the noise and commotion of the fight.)
It's gone.

He realizes they have not heard him speak. He leans out from the bedtree, takes in a deep breath, steels himself, and lets his body drop into the madness below. The collision with the dirt floor reverberates through every bone in his body. His breath escapes. The fight stops and the others turn to look at where Truscun lays.

TRUSCUN
It's gone.

Panting men surrounded him - the fighters panting from exertion and the audience panting with bloodlust.

CLINOHUMITE
It's about time.

The striped men rush out the door, hoots of glee fading abruptly as they pass through the soundproofed doorway. Truscun struggles to push himself to the bedtree. An injury to his back, sustained by the fall from the bedtree, makes movement difficult. He lays on his side, arms crossed in front of his chest, and shakes with silent sobs. Striped Man #1, noticeably injured from the fight, limps up to him.

STRIPED MAN #1
You need to learn another lesson.

Striped Man #1 pokes one claw into the back of Truscun's neck. A shockwave of pain passes through every nerve in his body. He wriggles and shakes. Striped Man #1 keeps the claw in the back of Truscun's neck.

STRIPED MAN #1
You couldn’t have been five minutes faster?

FADE OUT: