Scenario:Friday - Premium Rage

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Premium Rage

After lunch, Friday and the crew return to the beach, where they meet a pair of fishermen lamenting the recent rash of prawn poaching. Incensed, Friday leaps onto FRIED SHRIMP, zooms after the poachers, and finds the miscreants emptying prawn traps. Two prawns escape the poachers and head straight for Friday.



Friday, (Captain), and the crew finish their lunch and return to the beach. There they find a pair of men who look deeply troubled.
Fisherman Farid: Sigh... Not again. I'm dyin' here.
Fisherman Fabian: Ugh. Same here. Yesterday was a wash too. This is really gonna hurt.
Lyria: Um... What do you suppose is bothering them?
Friday: Oh, are those prawn traps you're holding?
Fisherman Farid: Here's a surprise. Not everyday you meet someone who knows about prawn harvesting.
Friday: Heh. I'm the type who has to know everything about the things she enjoys!
Friday: But the mesh on those traps is all torn. They're no use like that.
Friday: And from the looks of them, that wasn't the work of any nibbling fish. Someone must have ruined your traps deliberately.
Fisherman Farid: Yeah, you're right. It's a serious problem...
The men explain that there's been a recent rash of prawn poaching. The thieves slash open the traps and make off with the prawns inside.
Vyrn: Those goons! What a lousy thing to do!
Lyria: Um, is there any more you can tell us? We'd like to help!
Lyria reveals that they are a skyfaring crew and often handle cases like this one.
Fisherman Farid: Mmh... But they've got a stolen ship powered by Odajumoki dogs. You'll never catch up to them in a regular ship.
Fisherman Fabian: Ugh! The Odajumoki have washed their hands of poaching and gone straight, and now these jokers show up! I'm so sick of this!
Carren (Event) not in crew

The Odajumoki was an organization, comprised mostly of Harvin members, which once held great sway in the frozen lands of North Vast.
When Guzaletha, head of the organization, was defeated, some of the remaining members turned to urkin poaching in Auguste.
They plied their trade aboard a craft known as the Battleship Jenkins, powered by North Huskies.
It had been no easy task for the crew to chase down that lightning-swift battleship. They are quite familiar with the challenge.
Vyrn: I gotcha. So even if you catch 'em in the act, they wind up giving you the slip, huh?
Lyria: Isn't there any way to stop them?
Fisherman Fabian: If only we knew where they were hiding out. This's been going on for ten days, and we're not the only ones who've lost their catches.
Fisherman Farid: Sorry. We really shouldn't be dumping our problems on tourists.
Friday: Oh, not at all! In fact, I'm happy you shared that!
Friday: I think I'll just have to catch those poachers and teach them a lesson!
Friday clenches her fists and sets her jaw, the light of determination burning brighter than ever in her eyes.
Lyria: Whoa... Friday, please calm down.
Friday: Prawns everywhere are in danger! If poachers overfish the area, they could unbalance the whole ecosystem. The prawn population would drop...
Friday: And the marketplace would be devoid of prawns!
Friday: Who could be calm at a time like this!
FRIED SHRIMP: Fffrrryyy!
Fisherman Farid: Hang on, there. Things aren't quite that bad...
Friday: Don't be naive! A calamity like this has to be nipped in the bud!
Friday: We need to go right to the source of the problem. I'm going to go talk to them!
With FRIED SHRIMP in her arms, Friday stalks down the beach toward the water's edge.
Lyria: Huuuh? Friday, are you planning to swim after the poachers?
Vyrn: Didn't you hear these guys say a regular ship can't even catch up to them?
Friday: Alley-oop!
FRIED SHRIMP splashes into the water and Friday leaps atop it. She wobbles to her feet.
Friday: FRIED SHRIMP, engage Splash Mode!
FRIED SHRIMP: Rrryyy!
Friday steps on a button on FRIED SHRIMP's back and its tail begins to spin like a propeller.
Friday: I'm coming for you, poachers!
Friday: FRIED SHRIMP, awaaaay!
FRIED SHRIMP: F-f-f-frrryyyy!
Swimming Woman: Yikes! I can't see!
Swimming Child: Augh, what was that!
The golden-battered bot takes off across the waves, spraying water everywhere.
Vyrn: Waugh! That thing is aquatic too?
Fisherman Farid: Hm... At that speed, they might actually catch up to the poachers, but...
Lyria: Wait! Friday! It's dangerous to go alone!
Vyrn: Hey, pops! Fire up your fishing boat! We gotta follow her!
Friday: I see someone! They're the poachers, aren't they!
Well out from the coast, Friday spots the poachers gleefully pulling up traps from the seafloor.
Pete the Poacher: Gyehehe! What a haul, what a haul!
Paul the Poacher: Haha, the traps over here are all full too! And looks like there's even more down there.
Friday: So many prawns... I won't let them get away with this!
Pete the Poacher: Tch! Hey, get back here you!
Prawn: ...!
Two prawns elude the poacher's grasping hands and flee in Friday's direction.
Prawn: !
Friday: Sorry, cuties! I can't let you slow me down!

Premium Rage: Scene 2

Friday defeats the prawns and reaches the poachers. Not only will the poachers not listen to reason, but they reveal they have been working for ten days without breaks. Horrified for both prawns and poachers, Friday attacks and defeats each poacher, then squares up to their boss.



Friday fights off the agitated prawns and catches up with the poachers.
Friday: You there!
Pete the Poacher: Huh? Who're you supposed to be?
Friday: The one who's going to put an end to your poaching. For the sake of this beautiful ocean, and your own happiness!
Paul the Poacher: Whaddya mean, "our happiness"?
Pat the Poacher: What's with this one, riding up on that crazy contraption and spouting nonsense?
Pete the Poacher: Feh! You know what makes us "happy"? Pleasing Big Poppa! Get outta here!
Friday: Wait a minute. Who is this Big Poppa? Your boss?
Pete the Poacher: Shut it! Don't you go worryin' about our boss!
Paul the Poacher: We got a big prawn order to fill, so quit botherin' us! We're busy!
Friday: Busy? Don't tell me you plan to continue pulling up traps?
Paul the Poacher: Yeah, so what! You got a problem?
Friday: You already harvested so many prawns this morning, and you're still at it.
Friday: When do you plan on taking a break? Is there a second shift coming to relieve you?
Pete the Poacher: What are you on about? Why the hell would we bring on a second shift, you idiot?
Paul the Poacher: Yeah, it's just us and Big Poppa. The more of us there are, the smaller the share we get.
Friday: You're doing this with such a small crew?
Fisherman Fabian: If only we knew where they were hiding out. This's been going on for ten days, and we're not the only ones who've lost their catches.
Friday: For ten whole days... I don't believe it...
Friday begins to quiver, her face going pale.
Friday: So during the day you're sailing all over the place emptying traps, then preparing them for sale in the evenings...
Friday: Plus you have to perform boat maintenance, keep accounts, and take care of the dogs who power the ships.
Friday: Oh my Bahamut! That's inhumane! You'll work yourselves to death!
Paul the Poacher: What're you spewing, you meddling twit!
Friday: This is bigger than just prawn poaching...
Friday: I have to save the prawns! And you!
Friday crouches to open a compartment on FRIED SHRIMP's side. She pulls out a gun with a curved tail and long antennae framing the muzzle.
The SHRIMP Spreader: a gun which fires crunchy FRIED SHRIMP bullets of Friday's own design.
Pete the Poacher: That little weasel's packin' heat!
Friday: Say goodbye to your old, workaholic selves! Take this!
Friday fires a volley of piping hot FRIED SHRIMP bullets at the poachers.
Pete the Poacher: Gwah! What are these? Fried prawns?
Pete the Poacher: You burned me, you lunatic! You're fish food!
The furious poachers start their canine engines, sending a wall of water crashing over Friday.
Friday: Aaahh!
Friday finally loses her battle for balance and pitches backward into the sea.
Friday: Bwah... Pant... Pant...
Friday: Why? You can't overwork yourselves like that... Once you ruin your health, it'll be too late...
Friday: What did I do wrong? Why doesn't anyone understand?
Tears brimming in her eyes, Friday smacks her forehead into FRIED SHRIMP's crispy coating.
Paul the Poacher: Hey... D'ya think we were a little too harsh on her?
Pete the Poacher: Geez, she just fell in the water. She'll live.
Friday: No... You can't give up, Friday.
Friday: Opportunity knocks at the darkest hour! An innovator has to meet every challenge that comes!
Friday pulls herself back astride FRIED SHRIMP and smooths back her soaking wet hair.
Friday: Heh... I guess I'll just have to play my trump card!
Seemingly from out of nowhere, Friday produces a custom-made, golden FRIED SHRIMP bullet.
Paul the Poacher: Don't tell me she's planning to shoot at us with that weird bullet.
Pete the Poacher: Pssht. It's just a toy. I've never seen such a stupid looking thing.
The bullet radiates a heavenly brilliance as she loads it into the SHRIMP spreader. She aims it straight into the air and fires.
A dazzling golden light takes its place in the blue afternoon sky, shining like a star.
Pat the Poacher: Hm? Pretty piddly flare...
Friday: ...
Friday: Ahhh... The elation that comes of enjoying your Premium Friday to the fullest! I can feel it pouring into me!
FRIED SHRIMP: Fry! Fryyy!
The bullet Friday fired was nothing more than a small, golden flare.
But to the woman dedicated heart and soul to the promotion of Premium Friday, that golden light in the sky represents the sheer joy of fully utilizing one's time off.
Paul the Poacher: Psst. What the heck is Premium Friday? What's she talkin' about?
Pete the Poacher: How the hell would I know?
Friday: Time to strike back! Ready to show them what Premium Friday is all about?
FRIED SHRIMP: Fryyy!
With Friday on its back, FRIED SHRIMP scuds across the waves and leaps like a dolphin into the air.
Friday: Heh!
She sights along the barrel, aiming for the poachers' mouths, and unleashes another hail of steaming hot FRIED SHRIMP.
Pete the Poacher: Mrgh! Munch, munch!
Paul the Poacher: Gyah! Crunch, crunch!
Dancing above the waves on her trusty mount, Friday fires SHRIMP after SHRIMP, bombarding her adversaries' taste buds with flavor and burning their mouths in the process.
Friday: Don't worry! These FRIED SHRIMP bullets are perfectly edible!
Pat the Poacher: Yeeek! She's too strong! I gotta warn Big Poppa!
Friday: Hold it right there!
FRIED SHRIMP: Rrryyy!
FRIED SHRIMP's tail begins to rotate. It roars like a speedship engine and sends up a geyser of seawater.
Pat the Poacher: Waah! Cough, cough, cough...
Water rises in FRIED SHRIMP's wake, forming a veritable tidal wave which crashes down on the poachers.
Pat the Poacher: Nooo!
The poachers shake their sodden heads and look up only to see Friday training her weapon on them.
Friday: Taaake thiiiiis!
Pat the Poacher: Yeeeek!
The SHRIMP Spreader unleashes a torrent of SHRIMP bullets. The recoil sends Friday flying cloudward.
Pat the Poacher: Whimper...
So... tasty...
Friday spirals back down and makes a landing on FRIED SHRIMP's back that any gymnast would envy. She smooths back a strand of hair, expression smug.
Friday: Heh! That oughta do it!
???: Hey! Prawn-rider! What'd you do to my boys!
Friday: Big Poppa, I presume? Well, that saves me the trouble of sniffing out your lair!
Friday: Prepare to have the past that binds you buried once and for all! Come on, FRIED SHRIMP!
FRIED SHRIMP: Fry-frrryyy!

Premium Rage: Scene 3

(Captain) and the crew catch up to Friday in a fisherman's boat only to find Friday giving a lecture on work-life balance to the eagerly listening poachers. Thanks to her example, the poachers vow to give up their lawless ways, and the threat to the local prawn population is eliminated.



Vyrn: Hey, Pops, are we there yet?
Fisherman Farid: Almost! I think I see someone up ahead.
(Captain) and the others have hopped a ride with the fishermen to catch up to Friday.
Lyria: Ohhh... I hope Friday's all right...
Vyrn: Hey, guys? Do you hear something coming from over there?
(Captain) and Lyria cock their ears in the direction Vyrn indicated. Sure enough, they hear raised voices.
Friday: How do we approach work?
Pete the Poacher: Gyahaha! Everything in moderation!
Friday: And how do we improve quality of life?
Paul the Poacher: Gyehehe! By maintaining work-life balance!
Lyria: That's... Friday's voice, isn't it? I wonder what they're talking about.
Vyrn: Sounds like she's in one piece, at least. Let's go see what's up.
Friday: All right, next question! What do we do on Premium Friday?
Pete the Poacher: Gyahaha! Knock off work early and go home!
Friday: How do you use those extra hours you're not working?
Paul the Poacher: Gyehehe! For family time or personal time!
Friday: How do we treat the sea?
Pat the Poacher: Hahaha! We protect it!
Friday: And that boat you stole?
Big Poppa Poacher: Wahaha! We'll return it, and everything else we've stolen!
Friday: That's right! Very well done!
FRIED SHRIMP: Fry-fry!
Friday applauds her new disciples, flashing them a fanged smile of approval.
Vyrn: Hey... Just what's goin' on here, Miss SHRIMP?
Friday: As you can see, I'm delivering a talk on the merits of Premium Friday.
Friday: And these four promised to give up their poaching ways, so the prawns will be safe.
Friday: Heh! I think that should just about take care of everything!
Vyrn: Uh... Sure. That's great...
Fisherman Farid: You've been a great help. We can turn these guys in to the local guard for you.
Big Poppa Poacher: Wahaha! I was pretty surprised to find out you were the one behind the huge demand for prawns around here, Friday!
Big Poppa Poacher: We earned a lotta scratch thanks to you! We owe ya one!
Friday: Heh. You're welcome, but you're not allowed to monopolize the local prawns anymore, all right?
Big Poppa Poacher: You got it! From now on, we'll be dedicated to spreading the good word of Premium Friday and fried prawns all across the skies!
Friday: How wonderful! You can each have another fried prawn as a reward!
Big Poppa Poacher: Wahaha! Thanks, Friday!
The poachers eagerly bolt down their deep-fried rewards.
The glistening flare from the FRIED SHRIMP bullet floats gently to the water's surface. Its golden light sinks beneath the waves, mission accomplished.