Take I Part II
[Some undesignated time later. Jack has wandered off somewhere, and is now in a little clearance surrounded by trees]
Jack: My side hurts
[sobs]
[He takes off his jacket, revealing a large red patch on his shirt]
Jack: Oh no! My felt tip pen has leaked!
[He takes a leaking red felt pen out of the shirt pocket]
Jack: Oh God, now I’m going to have to wash this then never wear this suit again.
[He takes off the shirt and notices a large gash down his side]
Jack: I would fix that, but sadly my arms are too short and stubby
[sobs]
[Jack knees in the sand, pulling a strange face while sobbing loudly]
Kate: Could you please stop crying, I’m trying to admire your designer stubble and you’re getting tears all over it. What do you use to get that by the way, I’ll have to get it for my arms.
Jack: [looking up] Oh, I use L’Oreal because I’m…Ah! Who said that?
Kate: Me.
Jack: Where are you? All I can see is trees.
Kate: I’m right in front of you.
Jack: [Squinting his eyes and peering into the trees in front of him. Eventually Kate fades into view] Ah, there you are.
Kate: [rolls eyes]
Jack: Well now you’re here mysterious tree woman, have you ever done any stitching?
Kate: What?
Jack: Come on, you’re a woman you must have done stitching.
Kate: Why are you asking me if I’ve ever stitched anything?
Jack: Because I have a rather large hole in my left hand side, which you need to stitch up while I tell a rather gruesome story about being a doctor. I’m a doctor you see.
Kate: I see.
Jack: Most of my patients don’t, he he he.
Kate: You’re seriously asking a complete stranger to stitch up a wound?
Jack: Of course. It makes me look heroic.
Kate: Erm…ok.
[She kneels down beside Jack as he passes her a needle and a box of threads]
Kate: Any colour preference?
Jack: I beg your pardon, I like both black and white women, I’m not racist.
[Elsewhere an Arab man is busy building a signal fire. Charlie is sat beside him.]
Charlie: What’s that?
Sayid: This is a log Charlie.
Charlie: Right…what are you doing with this loog?
Sayid: No Charlie, it’s a log. And I’m making a signal fire so the plane can see us.
Charlie: Bloody hell mate, now you’re being silly; we crashed in the plane.
Sayid: No, if a plane or something flies over us they’ll see the signal fire and come and rescue us.
Charlie: How is a bird gonna come and rescue us?
Sayid: [sighs] Are you on drugs Charlie?
Charlie: [hiding the heroin behind his back] No.
Sayid: [rolls eyes]
[He stacks the logs then grabs two sticks and starts rubbing them together]
Charlie: What’re those?
Sayid: These are sticks Charlie. I’m rubbing them together to start the fire.
Charlie: Woah you can do that with socks?
Sayid: No Charlie, sticks.
Charlie: Alright mate, no need to take the ****.
Sayid: Look, I think the pregnant girl just called you.
Charlie: But she doesn’t have my mobile number yet.
Sayid: Just go over there.
[Meanwhile the Korean couple are fishing, not quite realising how hideously stereotypical that is]
[Sun is wearing fourteen woolly jumpers, six pairs of trousers, four scarves and three bobble hats. The sweat has created a rather large puddle around her feet despite the fact she’s standing in the sea]
Jin: [In Korean] I hope no-one steps on one of these or someone will have to pee on their foot.
[He looks up and notices that Sun has pulled one of her scarves down slightly]
Jin: Havaflabalap!
[Sun pulls on another hat]
[Back on the beach, the embers burning around and within the fuselage mingle with the orange of the setting sun. It looks mint]
Charlie: [Very faintly in the distance] What’s happening? Why is the sky dying?
[Leaning up against a heap of wreckage is a tall man with slicked back hair and perfect stubble, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with a little trail of smoke coming from the end. He takes the cigarette out and looks up]
Sawyer: Damn, I look badass.