Mr. Fog: So, you're going to join them?!
Brimley: I ... You know me. I'll always jump brim first into the unknown.
Mr. Fog: But the Foundation's already pulled their funding. The workers are already awaiting their reimbursement, and some players have already left ... How could we possibly hold a—
Brimley: Mate, listen up.
There is an unfamiliar tension in the office. This may be the first real disagreement between the two old friends.
Brimley: Those officers from the headquarters didn't give a damn whether the qualifiers were held or not. You could see it all over their faces.
Brimley: All they wanted was to minimize their trouble. Did you see how quickly they applied for the cancelation and reimbursement? How hastily they made promises to pacify the people? I've never seen anyone more ready to get things over with.
Brimley: Their job was done as soon as they got the player list. They'd probably already moved their attention to the qualifiers in other regions.
Brimley: After all, our qualifiers are no different from the others to them, but ...
Mr. Fog: ...
Brimley: It means something to us, doesn't it? At least for me. This could be my chance to go to Australia. My very nature wants me to run free on the red land, to holler out and forget all my troubles.
Brimley: I think that's what we all want.
Brimley: In the heat of competition, people are at their best, their most pure.
Brimley: Think about it, mate. You're not the only one who's put a lot of effort into this machine. It hurts me to see it rotting in the office, too.
Brimley: If you're really going to give up because of a few words from an authority, then as your partner, I have to tell you:
Brimley: Don't ever let anyone deny your achievements! Including yourself!
These words hit like a bomb, bringing his grand speech to an end.
Mr. Fog: Alright, calm down, old chap.
Tooth Fairy: Mr. Fog, the people want the qualifiers because they're for everyone.
Tooth Fairy: They provide each and every person with an equal opportunity to shine.
Sensing Mr. Fog's uncertainty, Tooth Fairy smiles as she offers her contribution.
Tooth Fairy: And that includes you and me. Although, for us, it'll be more like a battle to fight.
She gazes out the window at the people below, her head shaking gently in quiet frustration.
Mr. Fog: ...
Words lodge in his throat like a date pit, neither going down nor coming up. After a pause, he sighs deeply.
Mr. Fog: Honestly, will these people stop sending me petitions?! I've been absolutely inundated with them!
Circling to the back of the desk, he opens a drawer and throws a pile of envelopes onto the desk with feigned anger.
Brimley and Tooth Fairy remain silent, unsure of how to interpret his intent.
Mr. Fog: sigh Fine. Someone has to keep everyone healthy. I'll do everything I can to minimize the damage from the smog.
After a moment, Mr. Fog lifts his head.
Mr. Fog: Don't worry. I'll talk to the Relief Centre to sort out all the paperwork for the event.
Flutterpage: Here you are. This is yours. Please come here for a copy of the emergency guidebook if you don't have one! Make sure you read it carefully. We don't want anyone hurt if there's an emergency.
Flutterpage: And here, take this special sheet I enchanted to protect you from the smog. I came up with the idea a couple days ago.
Flutterpage: It can drive away the smog around you by controllin' the wind. Not very effective, but it's better than nothin'.
Worker I: Blimey, you did all this yourself?
Worker II: Cheers, little knocker-upper, but you don't need to worry about us. We've lived in the smog for generations. What can it hurt to hold a little sportin' event in it?
Will: Agreed. We asked for the exhibition ourselves, so we'll pay the price if anythin' happens.
Mr. Fog: Here's the confirmation of your application. Your contingency plan has been approved by the Relief Centre. My colleagues and I will do everything we can to keep you all safe.
Mr. Fog: As for the London Air Pollution Auto-Detecting Purifier MK. III, I'll do my best to fix it.
Mr. Fog: Next, we'll gather the athletes who have yet to leave the city and hold a small exhibition game.
Brimley: Of course, it won't be an official event, but at least it'll give an opportunity for the athletes to demonstrate their hard work to a group of spectators.
Brimley: I'm sure they'll be a great source of inspiration for the people of London as they cheer on their favorite athletes!
Will: Oi, Mr. Fog! I brought you this. It's Mrs. Brown's leek and potato soup with bread and butter.
Mr. Fog: Oh, Mrs. Brown. Please give her my thanks. Has everyone eaten?
Will: Yeah. Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Jones, Ben's son, and I have been cooking since four in the mornin' to get food out to everyone.
Will: But it still ain't enough. Almost everyone in the neighborhood's coming. Alright, I have to go make more soup. See you later!
Worker II: Hey, what's that you got from the knocker-upper?
Worker III: An enchanted sheet, apparently. She told me to blow it when I need to use it.
Worker II: blow
Worker II: Would you look at that? It conjured a gust of wind! We can use this while we're workin'.
Worker III: Yeah, it blows the smog away. Alright, well, sort of.
Little Lisa: Mr. Fog, Mr. Fog! I'm here to help!
Mr. Fog: Oh, you. You're the girl from the market, aren't you?
Little Lisa: Yes, that's me.
Little Lisa: Let's try our best to fix the machine together. But there's no need to worry. Mr. Fog, we can still hold the exhibition even if we can't do it!
Mr. Fog: ...
Mr. Fog: The exhibition. Alright.
Radio Broadcast: Next, introducing the London Uluru Exhibition Games.
Radio Broadcast: So far, 28 players have registered for the six-day event, which will host one sport per day.
Worker I: Alright, everyone, let's push together! Three, two, one!
Radio Broadcast: The residents of Cross Street have taken it upon themselves to rebuild the stadium.
Little Lisa: Hey, your painting's totally off theme. Look, mine's a mockingbird with a gold medal. It just won first place in the singing competition!
Freddy the Rascal: The Uluru games ain't got a singin' competition. You should've drawn somethin' more athletic, like my sailfish. It's the fastest swimmer in the world.
Radio Broadcast: How exciting! Our very own Uluru Games without any interference from the Foundation!
Flutterpage: Ms. Tooth Fairy!
Flutterpage: I've made a list of all the athletes who signed up for the qualifiers. A lot of them have left, but some would like to stay for our exhibition.
Tooth Fairy: Good. And I've made a list of the daily attendees based on the tickets they bought for the qualifiers.
Tooth Fairy: Mr. Fog and Mr. Brimley are discussing the possible security issues of the event with the Relief Centre staff and the police.
Tooth Fairy: We may actually start the Games on the day the qualifiers were originally scheduled.
Tooth Fairy: But, since this is all improvised, we'll probably encounter some unexpected problems as the Games continue. We need to be prepared.
Flutterpage: Yeah, I know.
The girl's enthusiasm dims as she looks over the sports venue, eyes tinged with quiet regret.
Flutterpage: sigh
Tooth Fairy: Thank you, Flutterpage. It must have taken a lot of effort to make the athlete list. You've done an excellent job.
Flutterpage: ...
She continues to scan the venue, as if searching for something.
Tooth Fairy: So, you saw the whole athlete list. Did you see the name you were hoping for?
Flutterpage: Ah! How did you ...
Flutterpage: Ms. Tooth Fairy, I ...
She hesitates, her brow furrowed. Her lips are barely moving.
Brimley: Flutterpage! Flutterpage!
Brimley: Come here. We need you to explain to the Relief Centre how your little sheets work!
The girl hesitates as she looks toward the somber officials.
Tooth Fairy: Just go. They need you more than I do. Your explanation may decide whether the Games can be held.
Flutterpage: Alright. I'll talk to you later!
She skips excitedly toward the door of the venue, where Brimley and Mr. Fog await her arrival.
As a worker carrying a wooden frame passes, she disappears from view.
Tooth Fairy: You've got yourself a new outfit. It looks great on you.
A tall, slim woman emerges from the shadows, her pointed leather shoes gliding along the floor with poised restraint.
Willow: Oh, I like your coat, too.
Tooth Fairy: Thank you.
Willow: My grandmother had one just like it. She died two years ago, had a proper sweet tooth, too.
Tooth Fairy: We'd have got along well.
Willow: ...
Willow: How did you know I was here?
Tooth Fairy: Oh, I didn't until my toothfairies found you.
Willow: Heh. So you have a whole jar of scapegoats who can take all the blame for you? How convenient.
Tooth Fairy: You've pulled yourself together, haven't you? Even your sarcasm has become bitter again.
Willow: ...
Tooth Fairy: So, why are you here?
Willow: Just getting some fresh air.
Tooth Fairy: ...
The two of them remain silent as they observe the mayhem of the sports ground, workers shouting and children running back and forth.
Tooth Fairy: Look at them. They're all so happy. What do you think?
Willow: I've never seen such a rudimentary, disorderly, and poorly prepared event in my life.
Tooth Fairy: Well of course, it's totally amateur.
Tooth Fairy: But it's built on enthusiasm and sportsmanship.
Tooth Fairy: Athletes will go head-to-head, spectators will cheer, and the stadium will be lit up by the energy they release together.
Tooth Fairy: It's imperfect, yes, but it's inclusive and unstoppable. And that's what makes it special.
Willow: ...
Willow: Hmph.
Willow holds a crumpled registration form in her hand.
