Act Eleven: The Battle of the Catwalks
Location: Lab of Evil.

The gang hide behind the shark tank, the door opens, Foster comes in looking all mean and soldiery. The boys in green start to work their way across the catwalks, then everyone but Foster wisely jumps down.
The gang open fire!
The marines return fire! Foster realises that being in plain sight with no cover is fairly fucking stupid and jumps down behind the tank too.

Foster: Fall back!

Because you're out gunned? Three trained military specialists with body armour and rifles verses three nobodys with t-shirts and short range weapons? Really?

The marines lay down supressing fire and peg it back out of the room.

Foster: Fuck!
Captain: What the hell happened down there, Foster?
Foster: They started shooting at us, sir!
Captain: Where'd they get the weapons Foster?! Forget to lock up the armouwy?!

You didn't know there were a fuck load of shotguns in the gun cabinets?!

Foster: No, sir!
Commander Chap: : Captain!

Chap speaks into the radio whilst holding some paper.

Commander Chap:
What kind of weapons do they have?
Foster: From where I was standing they looked like some big ass ten guage shotguns!
Commander Chap: Eight ten guage shotguns, one thousand rounds each, double ought shot.
Captain: You guessed wight! Shotguns! Ten guage! Thousand wounds! Now what's your pwan, Major?

Ok, so, neither the Captain, the Executive Officer nor the security guy knew there were shotguns in the gun cabinet even though this information is in the manual?
You have a major security situation on the boat and when it doesn't go your way your response is to sarcastically taunt the guy dealing with it?
Just for the record, ten guage shotguns are very slightly larger than twelve guage shotguns. Slightly. You could not tell, even when holding one, the difference.

Foster: Overwhelm them with superior firepower and retake the lab, sir.

Isn't that the last plan? The plan you abandoned? Have we considered grenades?

Captain: Yeah, shoot a miwwion dowwars worth of 'quipment? Set this pwoject back twenty years?!

I know computer technology devalues pretty quickly, but he did just say it was a $500,000,000 lab literally a minute before.

Commander Chap: : Sir! Doctor Combs thinks that the Doctor is still in there.
Captain: Major the Doctor is stiw in dere, you gotta take that womb without lethal force, you understand me, Foster?
Foster: Awight, Goodman, door, get it.

Goodman goes to the still open door.

Foster: OK, we go in in a wedge, on three, three, two, one, go!

That'd be after one then, not on three, 'cos on three is like one, two, GO!

The marines walk in shooting again, do nothing even close to a wedge, and start around on these catwalks until they get shot at, and then think to duck behind cover. We're liking this interpretation of 'without lethal force' too.

Foster: Spock! Fitz! Move!


Spock and Fitz both promptly jump on to the catwalks, and get shot, and fall in the water.

DQ3: Nice shot!

Dr Old goes to a computer with a blank keyboard and triggers a thing which says 'gates open'. We see some gates open and a big shark come through all wiggly.

DQ3: Hey! Get back here hotshot!

We see Robin has buggered off to another bit. DQ3 appears round a corner of the tank.

DQ3: Hey, get your ass back here, now! Come on!

DQ3 returns, but Robin is grabbed by Foster, who hauls her to her feet and puts his pistol to her head. Everybody, obviously, gets on the catwalks for, er, safety.

Foster: Alright, give it up! I don't want to kill anyone! I know you don't want anything to happen to your girlfriend!

They were friendly bullets we were shooting before.

Dr Old opens another door and we see some sharks behind glass!

Foster: You shoot, and my team will open fire!
Dr Old: Open fire? Now?
Foster: Doctor, I am ordering you to leave the lab!
Dr Old: The Reprisal's thirty five hundred feet down, which means, Major, this whole damn chamber is under extreme pressure. The steel doors shouldn't even be open this deep! Gunfire? I wouldn't wanna think about it.

I am going to be charitable and state that this is a bluff. There's no way that bullets have enough energy to smash a plexiglass barrier that can hold back that kind of pressure, no way.

Foster: Doctor, I am ordering you to close the doors, and leave the lab, NOW!
Dr Old: Major Foster! In this Lab! You are under! My direct orders!
Foster: Captain, we have a situation here!
Captain (over intercom): Doctor, this is a diwect owder, leave the lab.
Dr Old: I'm afraid. I cannot. DO that. Captain.

It's almost as if Dr Old is having his lines held up on big cards, but that's couldn't be right, could it? Plus, when did he start channeling Chandler Bing?

Captain: I'm going to make a pwomise to you Doctor, we intercepted a twansmission between you and Somerville. We know about your plan to bring him here. No harm will come to him.

There was a plan for Somerville to go to the Submarine? When exactly? I'm pretty sure Somerville had no idea about the submarine when he was dying. Did Dr Old use a ouija board? How come Dr Old needs to get all stealthy when he wants the guy he is working with to come see his own project?

Dr Old: Have your men lower their weapons.
Foster: Do it!

The marines all lower their weapons. One of them seems to have got both better and dry after being shot-gunned into the shark tank.

Dr Old: Dane? I'm going to have to ask, that your friends do the same.
DQ3: What about the rest of us?

The rest of who?

Dr Old: I'm sorry.
DQ3: It ain't gonna go down like that.

Dr Old taps on the keyboards and then KAPOW!

The sharks start attacking the marines! Woo! Biting them right off the catwalks even though their jaws don't hinge that way!

Two get munched straight away! Then one marine shoot Dr Old a lot, so DQ3 shoots him a lot. Then everyone stops shooting. Foster gets back up on the catwalk.

Foster: You son of a bitch!

Then he gets eaten by a shark.

I think most people would have worked out that being on the catwalks was a bad idea by then, but hey, he was obviously a very angry man.

Act Ten: Dr Old and the Exposition of Doom

Act Twelve: Wait, we won? Dang!