Ryan George Style Pitch Meeting – Featuring Bill, Ted & Rufus: INT. RIDICULOUSLY POSH BOARDROOM – DAY (There’s a roaring fireplace, an unnecessary globe, an oil painting of a man frowning at a puzzle box, and a tea trolley no one will ever use.) PUBLISHER (posh voice, sipping from a wine goblet for no reason): So, you have a British retro time-traveling absurdist comedy game experience for me? GAME DESIGNER (wearing a cravat and monocle, balancing a top hat on a dictionary for authority): Yes, sir, I most resplendently do! PUBLISHER: Oh, jolly brilliant! So what’s it called? GAME DESIGNER: Ben There, Dan That! and Time Gentlemen, Please! PUBLISHER: Fabulous! Two titles, one colon! Or… is it none? GAME DESIGNER: That’s part of the mystery. PUBLISHER: So what’s the game about? GAME DESIGNER: It’s a droll tale of two deeply average British men—Ben and Dan—who inadvertently traverse space, time, and moral decency in a bid to do things like fix a TV, accidentally overthrow humanity, and then un-overthrow it using time travel, sarcasm, and increasingly questionable logic. PUBLISHER: Oh my god. GAME DESIGNER: They spend most of the game shouting at each other and insulting the very concept of gameplay itself. PUBLISHER: Wow wow wow. Wow. GAME DESIGNER: They frequently break the fourth wall, insult the developers, and argue about the UI in real time. The protagonists are basically self-loathing protagonists who also hate each other but deeply love nonsense. PUBLISHER: So, very British. GAME DESIGNER: Positively dripping with sarcasm, swearing, and deeply obscure cultural references. If this game were a person, it would own 400 Doctor Who DVDs and a framed photo of Douglas Adams. PUBLISHER: So what’s the gameplay? GAME DESIGNER: It’s a traditional point-and-click adventure! You pick up random stuff and try combining it with other random stuff until the universe bends to your whims. PUBLISHER: That sounds maddening. GAME DESIGNER: Super easy, barely an inconvenience. PUBLISHER: Oh really? GAME DESIGNER: No! The logic is deliberately convoluted and at least 40% of the puzzle design is fueled by spite. PUBLISHER: Delightfully cruel! And what do the puzzles involve? GAME DESIGNER: Time paradoxes, Nazi robots, accidental dictatorships, alternate dimensions, and one deeply committed reference to Point Break. LOUD ELECTRIC GUITAR RIFF. A TIME PORTAL OPENS mid-meeting and BILL and TED crash through in their iconic, extremely unofficial “historical phone booth-shaped time pod.” Smoke machine? Absolutely. BILL: WHOOOAAA! That was most non-triumphant turbulence, dude! TED: Totally! I think we accidentally landed inside Downton Abbey: The Meeting. PUBLISHER (startled): What the devil is this? GAME DESIGNER: They appear to be excessively American. TED (looking around): Dude, this is, like, the fanciest dungeon I’ve ever seen! BILL: Yeah! And everyone here talks like a Shakespearean lawyer! GAME DESIGNER: Quite so. Welcome to the pitch meeting for a game where reality is optional and logic is just a suggestion. TED: So it’s like… you use time travel to stop bad guys? GAME DESIGNER: No, you use time travel to start bad guys, then realize your mistake and go back in time to confuse them into leaving. BILL: Most heinous! GAME DESIGNER: Actually, it's most British! You solve puzzles by talking to yourself in the past, stealing your own inventory items, and creating grandfather paradoxes with the emotional resonance of a shopping list. TED: That… sounds complicated? GAME DESIGNER: Super easy, barely an inconvenience. BILL: Whoa! Radical! PUBLISHER: And the art style? GAME DESIGNER: Lovingly hand-drawn in what I can only describe as “mid-level GCSE art project with vengeance in its heart.” TED: Dude, that’s... like, totally lo-fi! GAME DESIGNER: It’s charming! Like being insulted by a pixelated librarian. BILL: So like, do you get weapons and stats and power-ups? GAME DESIGNER: Absolutely not! You get a stick. And sarcasm. TED: So... like, British superpowers? PUBLISHER: And what’s the objective? GAME DESIGNER: To fix the telly. Avoid responsibility. Accidentally conquer the world. Accidentally fix the world. Possibly meet Charles Darwin in a toilet dimension. Who’s to say? BILL AND TED (in awe): EXCELLENT!! SUDDEN BURST OF LIGHT — RUFUS descends from above with a heavenly guitar sting. RUFUS (deadpan): Gentlemen. History’s gone all pear-shaped. TED: Rufus! You found us! RUFUS: Yes. And I found something worse. British humour. GAME DESIGNER: We’re quite proud of that, actually. RUFUS: This game teaches players nothing except how to resent the laws of causality while laughing about biscuits. PUBLISHER: Tight! That’s tight. TED: So what happens if you mess up? GAME DESIGNER: You don’t. Because technically, there’s no correct way to succeed. The game wants you to get it wrong, just so it can tell you you’re stupid in five different accents. PUBLISHER: Very considerate! BILL: Do the characters at least learn anything? GAME DESIGNER: They learn that time travel is dumb and so are they. TED: Heavy. PUBLISHER: Any emotional depth? GAME DESIGNER: Absolutely not! Any time something serious threatens to happen, the game makes a joke and then physically ejects sincerity from the plot. PUBLISHER: So no dramatic payoff? GAME DESIGNER: None. Just sarcasm, chaos, and deep commitment to being gloriously unhelpful. TED: Dude, that’s... actually kind of profound? GAME DESIGNER: Nope! It just sounds like it is. PUBLISHER: This sounds... like a paradox inside a pun inside a moral failure. GAME DESIGNER: Exactly. British design philosophy. TED: So like... we’re in? PUBLISHER: Of course. Who would not greenlight a game where the final act is resolved by sabotaging time with British incompetence? BILL AND TED: PARTY TIME! GAME DESIGNER: Great! PUBLISHER: Well okay then! GAME DESIGNER: Smashing! BILL (offscreen): Dude, I think the mouse cursor just insulted me! TED (offscreen): Most Britishly heinous dude!! 🎵 “Point-and-Click Disaster Bloke” (Parody of “21st Century Digital Boy” by Bad Religion) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYApdmp6je8 I can’t believe it, You made me craft a bomb Using tweezers, jam, and a prosthetic arm—cheers, mate. And I don’t want it, This “Hyper-Wrench of Fate” It opens every door except the one I need. Oh great! 'Cause I’m a lo-fi, fourth-wall-breaking lad Don’t know what I’m doing but I’m really rad! Got a save file cursed by alternate me, And a map that screams each time I try to leave. Ain’t logic just a trap? I can’t explain it, This game won’t shut its gob. Every puzzle’s mocking me like, “Oh, you thick or what?” Right, rude! 'Cause I’m a point-and-click disaster bloke! I once killed a Nazi using a broken yoke. I kissed a dinosaur to distract a bot, Then got vaporised for clicking where I ought not. That’s just Tuesday here! Tried to warn you 'bout the talking bin, But you were busy romancing Lenin. And now you’re trapped inside a monkey's crossword While Ben builds a time gun out of cardboard. 'Cause I’m a foul-mouthed cartoon stress event! I’ve met God, and he’s barely competent. My inventory’s filled with tea and regret, And Dan’s stuck in a loop where he owes robot debt. Still better than real life! (Point-and-click disaster bloke!) Swearin’ at a lever! (Point-and-click disaster bloke!) Cloned inside a toaster forever! (Point-and-click disaster bloke!) Paradox loop with a toilet king! (Point-and-click disaster bloke!) Game crashes if you do the right thing! Pixelated mess with a genius core! British nonsense by the bloody score! Dialogue trees that insult your face! And a haunted fridge from outer space! 🎤 [Song ends with the words “You have died. Want to restart? (Y/N)” written in Comic Sans, then the screen fades to black and boots DOS for no reason.]
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