SAFARI STU: WHO THE HECK ARE YOU?
Episode 2: Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

A rat scurries across the foreground of the camera as it sweeps up an alleyway. Safari Stu waves merrily as his face comes into view.

“G'day mates! Welcome back to the second webisode of me new show, Safari Stu: Who The Heck Are You? I'm Stu, and I'm fixin’ to be the greatest hunter the world has ever seen!”

Stu throws a thumbs up to the audience at home.

“Last episode we were in Poland and the adventure got as turned around as a wallaby in a washing machine. We managed to send the spooky ghost of Saint Faustina back down under, and even took out a few of her minions in the process. I wasn't able to follow it up by huntin’ down Abel Gracie, but your pal Stu is no Negative Nancy! If you ask me, a world with a few less Catholic priests is a safer world for all you boys and girls watching at home! So it's still a win!

This week, we're in New York City, and I've got a contract to hunt actors! Now I know what you must be thinkin’... ‘Strewth Stu, you must be blotto! If you want to find actors, you should head to L.A.!’

That's a fair point! Actors *are* in L.A! But I'm after a special kind. So here I am in an alleyway that branches off the street that runs perpendicular to the underground sewage system that services off-off-off-Broadway… let's hunt!”

Stu pushes further down the alley as a gentle gust of wind scoops up a discarded flyer from the ground and slams it into the camera's lens.


Stu doesn't see the flyer, or it's typo. He doesn't need to as he already knows where he is going.

He enters an unmarked door down the alleyway into a small room with about six chairs set up facing an empty half-circle clearly intended to be a ‘stage’.

“Crikey! It smells like a clogged dunny on a prawn trawler in here!”

He expected to be announcing that to everyone else in the tiny theatre, but alas, there was nobody here!

Suddenly, out from behind a shower curtain stepped a portly fellow dressed as Grizabella the Glamour Cat.

♫♪
“Memory
Turn your face to the moonlight…”

Stu cringes.

“Ah, I know what that smell is! Pompous righteousness interbred with self-loathing and a touch of ignorance injected up the chocolate starfish.”

‘Grizabella’ looks shocked to hear Stu's voice. Immediately they try to compose themselves and continue their rendition of ‘Memory’.

They don't get very far before they drop to their knees and begin to weep.

“Oh what's the use?”

“Err… is this part of the show?”

‘Grizabella’ sobs.

“The show… is over. I’m almost at the 50 hour mark and I just cannot stomach changing into the next character's guise only for there to be nobody to appreciate my art! I just wish I had the commitment to my craft as Sir Pennyfarting!”

“Umm… okay… well I think you're his only fan and I'm like… here to hunt you and stuff. So…”

From nowhere he pulls out a butterfly knife the size of his own head.

‘Grizabella’ barely notices. They throw themself at the ground, grovelling.

“Oh forgive me, Sir Lionel! I am become the Glamour Cat herself, but I have not been granted passage to the Heaviside Layer like your brilliance has!”

Stu glances nervously at the camera.

“Umm… there, there.”

He pats ‘Grizabella’ somewhat reassuringly.

“Lemme just ram this knife up ya guts and everything’ll be hunky-dory, k?”

Suddenly ‘Grizabella’ clutches at Stu’s leg.

“You came to the show! You… you will be my salvation. What brought you? Did you see my flyer?”

“Yeah, nah, someone’s just paying me some dollarydoos to off ya and stop this show from ever finishing. Something about ‘if anyone ever replicates the abomination that ruined Sir Lionel, then the very fabric of the universe would be torn asunder’. Seemed kinda important. Like… if I don't stop this show then something crazy like Lionel actually winning a fight might happen.”

“I don't have to die for that! I could change roles just like Lionel! I could be a missionary… I could be a cowgirl… I could be a dog. Whatever the role requires, y'know? I can play all the parts…”

‘Grizabella’ bats their eyes.

Stu is stunned speechless. The knife begins to hang loose in his grip.

The movement of his cameraman snaps him out of it and Stu quickly snatches the camera for himself and shoves it into ‘Grizabella's’ face.

“Look what we got here, mates! A miserable, failed actor in their natural habitat: A casting call that had them on all fours begging for someone else's approval—among other things! Note the paint on their face. This is all part of an actor's clever ruse to escape the crushing reality of their own insignificance! Their diet varies. One day it's kale smoothies and the next it's living solely on a couple'a packs of durries a day. But an actor's respiration requires the adulation of their fans. It may be that this poor soul is Sir Lionel Pennyfarting's only one, but with how withered they are, they may not be long for this world! Sir Lionel may follow soon after. We call that the circle of life. Sometimes though… it's best to just let nature take its course.”

‘Grizabella's’ eyes widened with hope.

“Does that mean…?”

Stu smiles, warmly.

A quick camera cut later sees Stu walking back out into the alley.

Another rat scurries through the background this time.

Its tiny paws traipse through blood pooling out underneath the door.

Stu winks.

“Happy hunting!”