Government Official: (gravely) I assume you all know why you’ve been called in here today. We’ve got three hours/seven days to diffuse this atomic/biological warhead planted by the notorious global corporation/ syndicate globotron/corp. I know you’re all just a bunch of ex-military/college students/normal citizens with blue-collar occupations, but you’ve got what it takes/you’re the best trained/you’re the only ones left to do the job. I trust you understand what’s at stake here.
Joker: Your cushy government job/our reputation?
GO: Funny. The transport leaves for the moon at oh five hundred.
The Mounting Tension
(Team looks at bomb)
Team Captain: Okay team, whatever you do, do not press this button/cross these wires/move.
Vlad: (banging warhead with wrench/hammer/pipe while drinking from bottle/flask labeled “alcohol”) What? This is how to diffuse bomb in Kyrgyzstan/Tajikistan/Russia.
(Bomb opens revealing a clock)
Captain: Great. All we need to do now is…
(Crazy guy starts pressing button/crossing wires/moving)
Teammate: He’s got space/mind dementia!
(Team tackles crazy guy, but not before equipment is damaged/teammate is killed/hope is temporarily lost)
Pilot/Driver/Vehicle Operator: (gravely) Okay, one of us needs to stay behind. (No one volunteers) I didn’t want it to have to come to this. Pick a straw/pick a number between one and seven/rock, paper, scissors, best two out of three.
(One by one, teammembers select/face off until only one remains)
The Chosen Guy: Tell my wife/girlfriend/son I love her/him. Tell her/him I’ll always be watchin’.
Government Official: (via intercom) Okay, I’ve got some good news and some bad news…
Expendable Character: I’ve got a baaaaad feeling about this/This doesn’t look so good…
Captain: (gravely) Okay, what’s the good/bad news?
GO: There’s an asteroid headed directly for your position on the moon. You’ll have to use the bomb to deflect it.
Captain: (after a moment of resignation) Okay, what’s the bad/good news?
GO: That was the bad/good news.
The Critical Moment
Expendable Character: (via intercom to guy still on the moon) We’re running outta time/there’s no time/hurry up!
The Chosen Guy: One…more…minute…/just…another…second…
(Clock gets cracked open, revealing two wires/two liquid-filled tubes/another bomb)
TCG: (wiping brow) Hey Captain, what’s your favorite color/wine/movie?
Captain: (intensely) Blue/port/Casablanca.
TCG: (to himself) Ahhh, I never liked you anyway. (Grabs handful of wires/tubes/bombs and pulls them out, activating spring system and hurtling bomb towards asteroid)
TCG: (Gets out of chopper and is hugged/kissed/hugged by wife/girlfriend/son) C’mon baby, let’s go home/make some heavenly collisions of our own/play some soccer.