"Now, the end is come."
"It was you? This whole time?" The Captain said, dust from the desert caking his sweat drenched skin and sandy blonde hair. He stood, facing off with the last remaining member of his platoon. "Why?"
"Why not," the dark hair'd footsoldier grinned. "They were paying me more." He raised his pistol, the barrel only inches from his Captain's face. "Goodbye."
The trigger was pulled, a loud shot filling the air, and you could see the Captain fall back, crumpling dead to the ground.
The soldier smirked, putting his gun away, and saluted. "It was for the best, Captain."
"Cut and print it!"
Russell Crowe ran a hand through his dusty hair before reaching down to help his 'dead' costar to his feet. "Well that was a real go of it, Mike."
The blonde man stood, taking the proferred hand, then went about brushing the dust and sand from his slacks. "Who knew that at the last minute YOU would end up being the Benedict Arnold?"
"I certainly didn't know until I got today's script."
"I didn't know until you said the line," Michael Vartan moved to retrieve his script from the side. "See here? 'random footsoldier: Now the end is come.' Kinda corny, but did the job."
"Good thing we got it all in one take then, huh?"
"Yeah..." The blonde man's gaze turned to fall on one of the borrowed Humvees.
"Oh no, nonono..." Russell stepped back. "I know this look. No."
"C'mon! They're getting returned to the military tomorrow morning, just a quick spin?"
"Well...."
The blond man grabbed his arm and began leading, half dragging, him to the humvee. "Good, we're agreed. Let's go." He opened the door and pushed Russell in, closing it, he hopped around to the other side. "We'll be back tonight!" Mike yelled at someone official looking as he hopped over the side and, in one smooth motion, started up the vehicle.
"You know, we REALLY should start heading back now."
"I guess so."
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"You going to turn around?"
"Sure."
"Now, maybe?"
"I'm thinking about it."
"... Do you even know where we are?"
"Sure!"
"Uh huh... where?"
"Iraq!"
"We're doomed."
"We are reading a Terran military vehicle heading our way."
"How many?"
"One, Hummer class. Two life signs aboard."
"Give me a visual."
"Visual engaged."
"Sithspawn, it would be THEM."
"Pardon?"
"Send out two Uglies, I want those two NOW."
"Sending out orders... may I ask why you want these Terrans?"
"They aren't Terrans... they're Rogues."
"Okay, so if perhaps if we can find the north star..."
"Do you know how to do that?"
"Don't you?"
"Stars are different where I'm from."
"Yeah, same here."
"So, how we gonna get back?"
"You bring a cell?"
"You dragged me straight from the set, what do YOU think?"
"Oops?"
"Yeah, oops."
"So... how we gonna get back?"
"Hey, if you hadn't decided to go off road, we-"
"Would have had no fun!!! What good is going joy riding in a military grade vehicle if you don't take it off road?"
"...."
"Well, if we go straight, we would have to run into a road sometime."
"It could be days. How's our petrol?"
"...."
"Oh no, nonon- Arraugh!!!"
"What the hell was that?!"
"Uhm, maybe they're filming that new Star Wars movie?"
"I thought it was all special effects and sound stages."
"Shit, they're coming after us, turn this car around and DRIVE!"
"But I wanna see-"
"NOW!!!!"
"I'm driving, I'm driving!!!"
"In other news, two actors from the set of "The End Is Come" have disappeared. Michael Vartan and Russell Crowe were last seen driving away from the set in a borrowed Military Vehicle. They have been missing three days now. If you have any information, please call-"
Tavira turned off the crude Terran visual and looked over to her monitors where two unkempt men lay unconscious in seperate cells. "Clever, disguising yourselves as actors while infiltrating my planet," her eyes narrowed as her lips curved in a cruel smile. "It is an action you will soon regret."