Records from Detroit: Lights, Camera, Action!

"Records from Detroit: Lights, Camera, Action!" is a story set in the Cyberlife Bus universe, detailing the experiences of an unsuccesful director, whose only hope of reviving his dying career is making a movie about the renowned crime-fighting group, Cyberlife United.
The story was written by Veeti K. and is a part of the "Records from Detroit" spin-off series.
DISCLAIMER: This story is heavily recommended to be read after the mainline Cyberlife Bus stories, as it reveals the outcome of each Cyberlife United member.
== Plot ==
=== From Small Beginnings ===
Early March, 2042.
Charlie Nelson's shoes thrash the pavement, as he jogs through the Silver Lake neighborhood in Los Angeles. He's fighting for air, arduously gasping and huffing with each step he takes. Sweat pours down his forehead, his legs begin feeling sore, he's slowing to a halt. Charlie stops to catch his breath while his friend, Max, speeds past him in a breeze. The jogging process is much more forgiving for Max, being an android meant he didn't feel the physical restraints of a human body. No sore soles, no burning sensation in his lungs from taking in the cold air, no lungs to begin with. It was pure automated and endless movement. He mostly just tagged along to serve as emotional support and encouragement for his friend. Despite still convulsively heaving, Charlie manages to whimper out a sentence. 
Charlie: Just a quick break, okay? 
Max: Sure thing, man. Anything come to your mind yet? 
Discontent, Charlie shakes his head. Throughout their friendship, Charlie and Max have discovered many life-altering revelations. One of these revelations was the use of jogging as a remedy to absolve Charlie from the clutches of his writer's block. There was something ethereal about the adrenaline rushing through his veins while running past the colorful painted stairs and familiar houses of Silver Lake, something that allowed Charlie to empty his mind and let his stream of thoughts flow free. At least that's what usually happened. After repeated failures and box office bombs, Charlie's self-confidence is at an all-time low. His age is most certainly not a conducive factor; he's in his late thirties, and despite how much he tries to hide it, he's not getting any younger. With each passing year, the limitations of his human body become increasingly palpable. His hobby of jogging is starting to feel less like exercise and more like labor, and his fleeting chances of having a successful career gain more and more distance. Fame is becoming an abstract concept, something in another dimension that only those chosen by destiny can acquire. He can see it, but he can't reach it. He'll be doomed to stay a D-tier celebrity, forgotten and ignored by the public eye. That thought consumes him, leaving him sullen and gloomy. 
So in order to prevent that from happening, he skims through the script he's grasping once more. He's desperately sniffing for errors to correct, the fatal flaw to fix so that it'd be passable enough for Horizon Entertainment to accept his pitch and grant him the opportunity for a new movie, something to save his career before it's dead in the gutter. Dissecting each word in the script makes him feel as if he's a starving predator hunting for prey. Yet, his highly-tuned senses don't catch the scent of anything. Frustrated, he tightens his grip on the paper, hoping he'll find enlightenment by continuously staring at the words and the gaps of white in-between them. Nothing happens. No other-worldly solution comes riding in like a knight in shining armor to slay the dragon that is his writer's block. 
Charlie: It doesn't work. There's something fundamentally wrong, just like all of my previous movies.
Max: Don't be so harsh on yourself. Maybe with a couple of rewrites we can fix it? 
Charlie: No, "Aliens From Outer Space" is beyond saving. For a moment there I really thought this was gonna be my Star Wars, my magnum opus...
Max: Not to be too much of a dick, but what kind of a fucking name is "Aliens From Outer Space" anyway? Where else would they be from? That's why they're aliens.
Charlie: Fuck you.
Max: Just trying to be constructive...
With full might, Charlie tears the script in half, leaving paper crumbs along the trail. As a force of habit, he runs his fingers through his parted, brown hair. It's something he tends to do whenever he's stressed. In a way, it serves as a comforting reminder. He tells himself "At least I still have hair", until a new alarming thought takes over, birthing a new crisis. 
Charlie: Fuck, do you think I'm balding? I'm balding, right? Do I have gray hairs? 
Max: No, you're not balding. 
Charlie: PROVE IT. Scan my hairline. 
Max does as he's told, as he has hundreds of times before this. 
Max: Your hairline is still at the same mark it was yesterday. 
Charlie: Okay, good... You don't get it, being a human sucks. Or maybe I'm just not cut out to make movies. Maybe writing and directing is too much for me... 
Max: I don't think that's the case. I just think we haven't come up with the right idea yet.
Charlie: But I've tried everything! I tried horror with "The Haunted Town of Madness", I tried sci-fi action with "Officer Blorgo's Last Descent", comedy with "Cactus Kid", romance with "Love is Best". I'm the problem. Nothing I do works.
Max: I really shouldn't let you come up with the names of your own movies.
Charlie: Like I said before: FUCK. YOU.
Despite the hostile words, Max's advanced social sensors detect that Charlie isn't actually frustrated with him, rather he's overwhelmed with his lack of progress. In search of reprieve, Charlie sits down at a bench. There's a digital magazine next to him, almost as if it's waiting to be picked up and read.
Charlie: What else could I possibly make a movie about that hasn't already been done?
Charlie's vision latches onto the magazine next to him. He lifts it and begins reading the first article displayed. The headline reads "FORMER CYBERLIFE UNITED DETECTIVES SAVE THE DAY BY CATCHING A MURDERER!".
Max: What's that about?
Charlie: Just something about Cyberlife United, nothing that'd help me make a movie.
An earth-shattering realization comes upon Charlie and time stands still. Everything goes silent, building up in anticipation to the grand reveal that has formed in his head. In this perfect moment of stillness and silence, the sound of the magazine dropping echoes loud enough to shatter his eardrums and yet he pays no mind to it. All that matters in the world is his new magical concept, his savior, his messiah. 
Charlie: Officer Blorgo In the Haunted Town of Madness! I can do a crossover!
The moment of silence continues. Blurting out those words didn't feel as right as it should have. It's like he's blindfolded, trying to hit a piñata that's dangling right out of his reach. His goal is nearby, but instead of being blessed with the satisfying sound of a paper mache horse tearing apart with candy pouring out, Charlie feels like he just hit a real horse instead and is now listening to the sounds of the animal's angry owner chasing after him. Max's words confirm this suspicion.
Max: That's an interesting idea for sure, but maybe we should still keep trying to come up with other stuff.
As they pace through the park, they hear some chatter of passersby discussing the famous crime fighting group, Cyberlife United. Charlie doesn't listen though, he's preoccupied with mining through the deep caverns of his mind for any trace of an idea.
Max: Look, maybe we should just call it a day and try again tomorrow?
Charlie: No, I'm close, I can feel it...
More nearby chatter relating to Cyberlife United invades Charlie's ears.
Charlie: God, what is with these people and those damn vehicles?
Max: I mean, they're heroes. They stopped that Merger guy, and a shit ton of others. Man, I'd pay to see a movie about them.
The two friends stop dead in their tracks. They glare at each other, eyes wide open. A wide grin slowly forms over Charlie's face, he can almost hear the drums rolling. His grand idea has arrived. He's found the piñata, now all he has to do is strike it down. 
Charlie: You thinking what I'm thinking?
Max: Say it with me. One, two... 
The two sentences overlap into a mumbled mess as Charlie and Max yell as loud as their vocal chords let them.
Charlie: CACTUS KID ENTERS THE HAUNTED TOWN OF MADNESS!
Max: A MOVIE ABOUT CYBERLIFE UNITED!
Charlie's head explodes with ideas upon hearing Max's suggestion, it's even better than another adventure with Cactus Kid. A movie based on real life heroes has infinite potential. The answer was right there the whole time. Maybe in order to find the piñata, he needed to hand the baseball bat to a non-blindfolded friend. 
Charlie: Or yeah, that! That's what I was thinking too. Great minds think alike. My light bulb has never been more turned on.
Max: Huh?
Charlie: That sounded weirder than I meant it to, forget it. But man, we're geniuses! 
Max: How has no one else come up with this yet?
Charlie: I don't know, but we better not wait around till they do! We have to get started on this ASAP. What's the legality of making a movie based on true events? Do we have to deal with some copyright bullshit?
Max: Well no, real life events aren't protected by copyright. But it would be good to get permission from-
Charlie: Yeah, I'll get in touch with the folks over at Horizon Entertainment, I'll pitch the idea to the studio and see if they approve. If they agree to produce, we're golden.
Max: I meant we should get permission from the living ex-Cyberlife United members. 
Charlie: Right, so they don't sue us!
Max: That, and so we can make it as accurate and as moral as possible.
Charlie: That too. This is great... I'll start making some calls. This is a day that'll be remembered. 
Max recognizes the look on Charlie's face. Confidence and glee have replaced the doom and gloom from mere minutes ago, like he had it figured out all along. Either way, Max prefers this version of Charlie over the grouchy and selfish Charlie he was just talking to. They both smile in harmony, as Charlie's arms reach around Max while he pulls him in for a hug.
Charlie: "Cyberlife United: The Movie", here we come.
=== Approval ===
It's been 24 hours since Charlie's grand idea came upon him, and now he's preparing for a meeting scheduled with important studio executives and producers over at the Horizon Entertainment Headquarters. He's in the process of putting on a fancy suit, which feels antithetical to who he is. He'd much prefer the hawaiian shirts and colorful cardigans he usually wears, but he has to look professional. His career is failing, and this is his chance to save it. He'd have no problems wearing a moldy garbage bag with tarantulas inside if that's what was required for him to get to make his movie. As he ties his shoelaces, he turns to listen to what Max is saying.
Max: You sure you want me there with you?
Charlie: Yeah, I need you as backup. I'm on thin ice with Horizon. After the complete box office flop that was "Haunted Town of Madness", I'm lucky that they even agreed to have a meeting with me. Hell, if the studio ever goes bankrupt, it'll be because they decided to invest in that movie. But it's not my fault the studio meddled with it and forced those reshoots, they didn't let my true vision come to fruition. They should let me do a director's cut on that movie, man... 
Max: Didn't you already do a director's cut on it? 
Charlie: Well yeah, but I deserve to get to make another one! I'm telling you, if they'd just let me release the true director's cut with those 4 hours of deleted footage, the public would see me as the genius I am. They're all too focused on that superhero shit, they don't give actual creative filmmakers a chance. 
Max: Right, just focus on the meeting and try to remain professional, alright?
Charlie: That's what the suit is for. I'm not gonna fuck this up, I promise. 
Max: Yeah, okay. We'll handle it, together. 
Charlie: Thanks, man. 
Once they're suited up, they begin their drive over to the studio's headquarters in Culver City. It's a short drive from Silver Lake, and whilst Max grabs the wheel, Charlie takes it upon himself to go over the notes they wrote on what they want the movie to be. They've got a list of several key words written down:
* Realistic
* Heartfelt
* Exciting
* Drama
* Truthful
* (Oscar winner?)
* Two bags of chips
As Charlie reads the last bullet point, he realizes he might have gotten the paper mixed up with his grocery list note earlier. That doesn't matter now, what matters is that they both shared the notion that the story should be a heartfelt action-drama, portraying the lives of these heroes as truthfully as possible. As the car takes off, different alternatives of how the meeting will go bounce around the chamber that is Charlie's head. He can't predict whether the producers will start throwing bags of money his way, if they'll violently push him out before he can even finish his sentence, or possibly something in between.
In what feels like the blink of an eye, Charlie's arrived at the building. Stepping in through the front door with Max right beside him, they're greeted by a middle-aged man named Jordan Jones with combed back hair; most likely an attempt to hide the fact that he's balding. His hair has a glossy shine to it and it reeks of dozens of different hair wax products, all mixing to create chemical that have to be a safety hazard. Charlie figures Jordan's clothes and cologne alone cost more than any of Charlie's movies have grossed at the box office. To Charlie's dismay, he's dealt with Jordan before, more than he'd like. Jordan is his main contact at the studio and has been for the past few films he's made. 
Jordan: Charlie Nelson, it's good to see you! How's my favorite director doing?
Jordan fakes a smile, as he pats Charlie's shoulder. His smile is so wide to the point that it's comically artificial, as if he's trying to show off how shiny his teeth are. Charlie figures Jordan would be better suited for a toothpaste ad than the role of a studio executive.
Charlie: Jordan Jones, we meet again!
Jordan's glance latches onto Max.
Jordan: And this must be your assistant?
Max: What the hell?
Jordan: I kid, I kid... You of course are...
Charlie: He's my cinematographer, has been for all the movies we've made. This isn't the first time you two meet.
Jordan: I know, I could never forget...
Max: Ma-
Jordan: Matt! I knew it!
Max: Well, actually-
Charlie tugs Max as a silent sign to let it go. Their best chance of getting the movie approved is by pleasing Jordan, arguing over names is pointless. 
Jordan pushes Charlie forward, as they walk together towards the office where their meeting will take place.
Jordan: I really hope you have something good for us, Nelson. I really put my ass on the line for you in order to make this meeting happen. After the less than desirable outcome "The Scary Town of Mad People" and its director's cut had, this studio has like NO faith in you. No pressure though. 
Charlie: It was called "The Haunted Town of Madness".
Jordan: I think I'd know, I produced the movie after all.
Charlie: And I directed and wrote-, whatever. But yeah, trust me. I got something special. 
They stride into the office, where four studio executives and producers are seated across the room, waiting for Charlie on the other side of a table. Charlie snickers at how indistinguishable the four gentlemen are are from one another. They could be quadruplets for all he knows, just faceless white men in suits, the Mt. Rushmore of assholes. Charlie was informed of their names prior to the meeting, but he soon realizes he's forgotten each one of them completely. He figures he'll just look at them as Producer #1, #2, #3 and #4 based on their seating order, and prays they won't catch onto him conveniently not calling them by their names
Charlie: Hello everyone, my name is Charlie Nelson, and this here is my friend and cinemato-
Jordan: Just start the presentation, Nelson.
Charlie: Right.
Max hands Charlie the laptop they brought with them and plugs it into the projector on the table. The mechanical whirring of the machine starting up fills the otherwise silent room. A light begins flickering on the wall, as the words "Cyberlife United: The Movie" present themselves, written in an eye-catching font. The producers quietly glare and whisper to each other, as Charlie and Max take awkward back-and-forth steps in search of new standing positions to pass the time. The moment continues on for way too long, until one of the producers breaks the silence.
Producer #1: A movie about Cyberlife?
Charlie: Not Cyberlife, no. Cyberlife United, the crime-fighting vehicle group located in Detroit. They operated throughout early 2039 to mid-2040, stopping notorious criminals such as the Merger, the FVVA and the Detroit Taxi Army throughout their short-lived career.
Producer #3: The Detroit Taxi Army? I think my nephew was a part of that one, interesting...
Max: Your nephew was... a taxi? 
Producer #3: Something like that.
Max: Okay...
Jordan: Keep going, Nelson. We're interested.
Charlie: Right, so what we're thinking is this'll be a heartfelt action-drama based on the true story of these real life heroes. Letting the public know their ups and downs in detail, showing the whole world just how heroic these vehicles were.
Charlie makes sure to go over every keyword he wrote down with Max.
Charlie: It's gonna be realistic, it's gonna make you feel, it'll get your heart pumping, it's gonna be accurate to reality, hell it might even win an Oscar and HELL, it might even have two bags of chips!
Charlie stops dead in his tracks, realizing his mistake. The consequences of not crossing over that extra bullet point in his list has now ushered its destructive consequences. His heart skips a beat, as he looks around the room in dread of how the producers will react to his foolish slip-up. That one ignorant slip-up might now cost him whatever's left of his career. He's on the verge of a heart attack, as one of the producers responds to his blunder.
Producer #2: I do love me some chips... I'm in.
For once, the universe might be in Charlie's favor. The goof that could've cost him his movie actually brought out the support of one of the producers, and now the others seem to be nodding in agreement. The only hesitant figurehead seems to be Jordan himself.
Jordan: Don't you have worries people will see this as insensitive? I mean the group was active less than two years ago, and now we'd be making movies profiting off of their deaths? A scandal like that could really ruin our esteemed reputation. 
Max: It won't be to profit off of their deaths, just to tell their stories to the public, to commemorate them!
Producer #2: To be fair, Jordan, most tragedies these days get turned into a movie within a year or two.
Jordan: You have a point... What about the living members? Some of them survived, didn't they?
Charlie: Yeah, Cyberlife Car, - Van, and Bus 5 are still alive. But Max and I are working on getting their blessing for this movie.
Jordan: Yeah, we wouldn't want to have a lawsuit on our hands. Tell us more.
Charlie: Right, so the movie would have Cyberlife Bus as the protagonist. He was the group leader, after all. It'd start from the beginning, showing us their origin story, what prompted them to create the group in the first place, as they search for the notorious vehicle serial killer known as the Merger. The first act would revolve around this, their beginnings, the first criminal they took down. Then as the movie progressed, we'd show their struggles with other higher profile criminal groups, and the climax would show their eventual downfall as Cyberlife Mercedes betrays the group.
Jordan: Having all that in a single movie sounds a little bloated to me. How about we franchise it?
Charlie: Huh?
Jordan: You have a money-maker at your hands, Nelson. Don't waste it. Let's turn this baby into a FRANCHISE! The first movie can focus on the Merger, then we make a sequel based on the FVVA, then another sequel, hell we can put in post-credit scenes teasing future villains for every movie! The public LOVED when the Revengers movies did that!
Max steps in, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.
Max: I don't know, doesn't that sound a little insensitive? I mean, those "villains" were real vehicles who killed actual people.
Jordan: What did I tell you two? You have a money-maker here. Let's do this. Let's save your career.
Producer #1: I'm on board.
Producer #2: Same here.
Producer #3: Me too, as long as you include a reference to my nephew in the taxi sequel.
Producer #4 hasn't said anything throughout the whole meeting. He seems to have fallen asleep. The others take this as a sign of approval, giving Charlie the final go-ahead to move further with the film into pre-production.
Jordan gets up from his chair, fakes another smile, and once again places his hand on Charlie's shoulder.
Jordan: Congratulations, Nelson. Next stop: Money Town. 
As the meeting concludes, Charlie and Max step out of the office. They gaze at each other, thrilled; only that Max doesn't seem quite as eager with the results of their success.
=== Moving Forward ===
As the two friends step outside, Charlie spots a billboard in the distance, promoting an upcoming movie. He lets out a laugh.
Charlie: I can see it all so clearly now...
Max: See what?
Charlie points at the billboard.
Charlie: You see that billboard over there? That billboard holds our future. One day not so long from now, that billboard is gonna be promoting our movie. It's gonna say "Cyberlife United: The Movie" and "Directed by Charlie Nelson" in big, beautiful, bold letters for all to see. Thousands and thousands of people will drive by it and think to themselves "Huh, that looks interesting. Maybe I should give it a chance, that Charlie Nelson fella sounds like a real smart dude". And when that poster is there, when everyone sees it, my name is gonna mean something. I'm gonna mean something. This is it, Max. This is our big break.
Max: Don't get ahead of yourself, we still have a lot to do. Like gaining permission from-
Charlie: Yeah I gotta write the script, we gotta start setting up casting calls so we know who's gonna be playing our titular vehicle heroes, we gotta consider budgeting...
Max: GAINING PERMISSION. I'm not doing this without that. These guys are heroes, and I'm not going to take part in something if any of them find it disrespectful. So first things first, we arrange meetings with Cyberlife Car, - Van and - Bus 5. Once they agree to meet with us, we buy plane tickets to Detroit and meet them in person.
Charlie: Can't we just do that through an email or zoom call or something?
Max: What, buying plane tickets is where you draw the line? Come on, we'd have to film the movie in Detroit anyway, make it as authentic as possible, right?
As obvious as it may seem, it's something Charlie hasn't really thought about. He's done fine thus far with his filming taking place purely in film sets within Los Angeles and using the magic of green screens. Stepping out into an unknown and dangerous land like Detroit is basically a death wish in his eyes, Charlie figures there have to be thieves and murderers waiting around every corner to ambush you and strip you of your dignity. After all; why else would the city need a group of crime-fighting vehicles to keep them safe? And now said group was no longer operating, which must mean it's even more dangerous. With Cyberlife United no longer there to stop them, Charlie fears there might be a whole cult of serial killers merging vehicles together, or a whole society of former vehicle veterans, or a planet of taxis. Who could stop them? The thought of flying straight into the belly of the beast is terrifying enough, but filming a whole movie there, at Evil-Villain-Land? The film set would get targeted by terrorists before the crew even managed to construct it. There'd be auctions held by different criminal groups, all bidding on who gets to brutalize and torture the film crew. Due to these completely rational and human fears, he's more than a little hesitant. 
Charlie: I mean... surely we can make L.A. look like Detroit, with some clever camera tricks?
Max: It has to be authentic like we discussed. L.A. is not authentic, L.A. is Hollywood. We're not making just another Hollywood flick, we're making something real. Don't lose your ambition due to fear, Charles.
Charlie: Do NOT use my real name for dramatic effect, Maxwell. 
Max: I won't, if you buy us plane tickets to Detroit and arrange meetings with the living Cyberlife United heroes. So, what's it gonna be?
Charlie takes a deep breath. Detroit is terrifying, but what's even more terrifying is living an unfulfilling life of abandoned dreams, which is what he'd have to do if the movie flopped. Maybe he'll find some consolation in being blessed with a quick death, being shot in the head by a villainous bus can't be that bad of a way to go. 
Charlie: Fine... Detroit it is then.
Max: Wise choice my friend, wise choice.
They get in Max's car and begin their quick drive back to Silver Lake.
=== Into the Belly of the Beast ===
As the sun rises, Charlie's morning is spent sipping stale coffee and failing to get a hold of the vehicle heroes. He scours the internet for their phone numbers, but the best alternative he finds is a link to a business email that the Motorized Investigators have set up, intended for civilians to send anonymous tips to in order to help with cases. In regards to Cyberlife Car, there isn't even a trace of anything resembling a way to reach him. It makes sense that the vehicles' personal information would be rather veiled from the public due to safety precautions, after all they do live in the land of all that is mischievous and evil; a fact Charlie is all too aware of while he's planning his trip to Detroit. Nonetheless, he wishes they'd make an exception for him and upload their phone numbers online for his eyes only. Hopeless, he figures the business email is his best shot. For a short moment he considers using a bait-and-switch tactic with his message by making it sound like he has pivotal information on a case that the two detectives are working on, before revealing that he's actually just making a movie. However, he soon realizes that gaining their attention through the classic tactic of click-bait might not bring the most favorable results, as it would quickly sour any good faith they might have in him and his project. The best way to get their approval is through honest means, even if it means having to wait longer for a response. 
The virtuous path he chose winds up paying off, as his prayers are answered within the hour of him sending his message. That godly digital bling sound of receiving a new notification sends Charlie's heart jumping through his chest in a fit of adrenaline and thrill. He eagerly clicks on the response, and begins reading it through. 
"Greetings Mr. Nelson! 
We would be more than pleased to meet with you to discuss the possibility of a movie. We have our reservations, but nothing that can't be solved over a cup of coffee. Could we meet at the CyberCafé on Mick Avenue? How about next Wednesday, 1PM? 
With kind regards, Cyberlife Van" 
And with that message, Charlie and Max's trip to Detroit has been confirmed. Charlie rushes to type up a response agreeing to CV's suggestion before reserving the nearest flight tickets. They've yet to contact Cyberlife Car in any way, shape or form, but Charlie won't let that slight bump get in the way of his prosperity. He's not one to fear improvisation; often it even elevates the experience, a fact he's unraveled through the process filmmaking. He believes taking risks every now and then is good for your soul, it keeps things interesting. Besides, it's the least of his worries when it comes to Detroit. He's convinced he can win over the detective couple, and maybe that'll be enough. So what if Cyberlife Car is unresponsive? They'll still have two out of three votes in their favor, anyone who's even heard of the word "math" should be able to quickly count that it makes it morally acceptable to make the movie. After all, does anyone stop using a specific toothpaste because one out of ten dentists was against it? Who knows, maybe even the other Cyberlife United members would be in the movie's favor, they just don't get the chance to vote because they died. 
On that note, he informs Max of their upcoming trip. The two of them spend the upcoming days meticulously planning their approach, scrutinizing every possible path their conversation could go, no matter how far-fetched and outlandish. If the two detectives ask Charlie and Max to perform a ballet dance in front of them, they'll be the best damn ballerinas there ever were. If they ask them to catch a serial killer that the detectives themselves couldn't, they'll become Sherlock Holmes — they really thought of everything. 
Despite their rigorous preparation, Scott still experiences a wave of heart palpitations consuming him as their flight takes off towards Detroit. This leaves him nebulous; never before has he had issues with insecurity. School presentations were never a problem, and even the movie-pitch to the Horizon executives was light work. And yet, now he's clutching the armrest with insurmountable force and rubbing his face vigorously, all because of a meeting with some vehicle detectives. It doesn't make sense, what could invoke such a reaction within him? Were the stakes of this movie possibly being the determining factor between his success or his downfall, finally weighing down on him? Was it the fear of flying to the dangerous land of Detroit? Or perhaps, did he have a deeply hidden and subconscious celebrity crush on one, or perhaps both, of the detectives? Was it an amalgamation of these questions? 
Charlie doesn't have the answer. He wagers there's no point in straining his great mental prowess with such pointless questions of self-doubt, so he forces his eyes shut and attempts to take a nap, a task he finds surprisingly straightforward despite the claustrophobic setting and uncomfortable seating. He quickly falls into a state of deep slumber. 
Charlie is awakened with a light slap on his face from Max. 
Max: You're drooling on me, asshole. 
Charlie: H-huh... 
Max: And we're landing soon anyway. Get a hold of yourself. 
Their flight reaches its end in the blink of an eye, as the plane approaches the Detroit Metropolitan Airport and lands on a concrete runway. Charlie snickers at how little the process of flying has changed, despite the automatization of vehicles. The most substantial switch from the perspective of a passenger has been the announcements; now instead of hearing a gruff and old pilot, who audibly wants to be elsewhere, warning you of the upcoming turbulence, you instead get to hear a sentient plane making that same announcement itself. It's lovely stuff. 
They perform the standard airport procedures of waiting at long queues to get past the security check, claiming their luggage, standing around in more queues, and a little bit more waiting around. All very thrilling operations that most certainly did not leave Charlie yearning for the comfort of home. In spite of his incessant internal whining, Charlie's worries are steadily mitigating. He's already been in Detroit for several minutes, and so far he's managed without a scratch. He hasn't noticed any acid rain pouring from the sky to melt his skin off, he hasn't heard any ticking timers of bombs about to explode, and he hasn't seen a single terrorist yet. Maybe he'll do just fine. 
It's midday, as Charlie and Max set foot at the CyberCafé, their mutually settled venue for the meeting with the detectives. There's no room for error on their part. As they wait for the vehicles to make their appearance, they figure they might as well order something. Charlie takes a look at the human menu and opts for a flat white, whereas Max is more in the mood for a CyberEspresso. In stereotypical coffee shop fashion, their names are misspelt on the cups. Whilst the drinks themselves taste quite nice, Charlie doesn't take too kindly to being renamed "Carley", and neither does his friend "Mask". All in all, it seems like a failed business ploy to get their customers to post their outrage online and gain infamy for always getting names wrong, therefore bringing in new customers who just want to see what wacky spelling they can muster up for their name. Well the joke's on them, Charlie will not post his outrage online and will instead just leave a slightly negative review on their website. 
While Charlie's in the midst of maladaptive daydreaming, Cyberlife Van and Cyberlife Bus 5 bust in through the front door. His head jerks towards them, conveying a warm, yet slightly artificial smile, as they move over to one of the corner spots. The two detectives park at a chairless place reserved for vehicles, whilst Max and Charlie grab nearby stools to sit down.
Charlie: I'm so thankful that you two agreed to take time out of your day to meet with us.
Max: Really, it's a huge honor.
CB 5: We had the time, so we figured we might as well hear you out over lunch.
CV: I also happen to be a huge fan of your work! I wouldn't miss the opportunity to meet one of my favorite directors.
Charlie is taken aback. He can't believe what he just heard, and if not for the accompanying form of shock taking over Max's face, he'd assume he misheard the van.
Charlie: Wait, really?
CV: Yeah, "The Haunted Town of Madness" was a modern horror masterpiece. I'm convinced anyone who didn't like it just didn't understand its deep messages about society and trauma. When I first saw it, it felt like I was watching a movie directed by Kubrick. I've had you on my radar since then.
His slightly artificial smile has become genuine, as he grins like a self-pleased idiot. Cyberlife Van's pre-existing artistic enjoyment of his work will undoubtedly serve their cause and aid in gaining approval.
CB 5: So, what's this about. You mentioned it had something to do with an upcoming movie of yours?
CV: Do you want us as actors? I'd love to be one! At least as an extra, I can be an extra. Of course I wouldn't mind a speaking part-
Charlie: Even better. I'm interested in making a movie about you guys, and the rest of Cyberlife United.
Cyberlife Van and Cyberlife Bus 5 remain silent. They turn to face each other, whispering something Charlie can't quite make out. He's growing weary of people whispering right in front of him. Their streak of disrespect comes to an end when CB 5 begins speaking. 
CB 5: Well, it all depends on how respectful it is. It'll be a tough pill to swallow at first, but if you just remain truthful and honest about what really happened, then I think it'd be a good way to honor our friends who passed away.
CV: Yeah, we can tell the whole world their stories. If you want, we can visit the set every now and then to help with the script and the filming, in order to make it as accurate as possible.
Charlie: That'd be amazing.
Max: Having you two as technical advisors would certainly lighten our load, and ensure the highest quality for the end product. You'd be paid handsomely, of course.
Everything seems settled, Charlie's on the verge of jumping out of his seat. He's anxiously tapping his legs against the floor. That is, until that one, infamous, fateful, ever-present word materializes itself from within Cyberlife Bus 5's voice box.
CB 5: But...
There's always a but. Nothing can stay facile and easy, there always has to be a "but" and its accompanying havoc. All that alternates is the severity of the destruction it brings with it. 
CB 5: But I've got to know... Did you ask Cyberlife Car about this?
Charlie: Not yet, no. But that's purely because we haven't had the chance.
Max: Cyberlife Car is a difficult man to reach. 
CV: That's understandable. He's fallen on hard times. But I'm sure he'll come around if you do find him...
Charlie: Would you happen to have any clues as to where he might be? I get if you don't wanna give out his address or anything, I mean we could be assassins just pretending to be filmmakers for all you-
Max bumps Charlie's shoulder, no doubt a non-verbal sign to tell him to shut his mouth. 
Charlie: I mean, of course not that we would be, I'm not an assassin. And neither is he, of course!
Max bumps him even harder. Could his attempts to de-escalate things actually be making matters worse? He has to shut things down before they launch out of control 
Charlie: What I'm trying to say is we don't kill people, therefore we wouldn't kill Cyberlife Car.
CB 5: That's good, we didn't think you would.
CV: Yeah, a lot of people get nervous when talking to detectives. It happens. You might find him at the Woodward Whiskey Saloon, he's a... frequent customer there.
Charlie: Thank you, we'll head there today!
CV: Just... approach him with caution, okay? He might not be in the best state of mind.
Charlie: Alright... 
Max: And just to make sure, you two are on-board with the movie?
CV: Yep.
CB 5: Yeah, I'd say so. As long as you talk to Cyberlife Car.
Charlie is ecstatic. Maybe "but" isn't a hellborn word crafted by Satan himself, maybe it's something that can be solved through the wonderful act of conversation. Max shares that same pleasure.
Charlie: I can't put into words just how grateful I am. You two made our day. 
Max: It was wonderful to meet the two of you.
Alternately, Charlie and Max shake their hands with CV and CB 5's wheels, an odd sensation. The pressure and stress that had previously crushed Charlie, is now leisurely easing up, leaving his body in an eternal state of liberation, with dopamine rushing through his veins. He glances at Max and recognizes that shared notion of accomplishment. With the vehicle detectives' acceptance, there'll be nothing to stop them from making their perfect movie. Determined, he knows they'll soon be ready to begin pre-production.
=== A Bump In the Road ===
Charlie and Max are striding through waves of confidence and victory thanks to their success with the detectives. With how undemanding they were to win over, Charlie's convinced that Cyberlife Car will be just as manageable. Max observes how this assumption may be a result of them being besieged by the hot hand fallacy -- the false belief that their previous win somehow increases their chance of winning again, yet Charlie doesn't give it much focus. He figures that if they've got a lucky streak going, why not take advantage of it and attempt to find Cyberlife Car? And thus, without much further thought, they head to the Woodward Whiskey Saloon in hopes of seeing the fabled blue car.
Upon ordering drinks, the two of them snicker at how their quest to gain approval has now seemingly become a drink tour across Detroit, tasting all the different beverages that the cafeterias and bars of Detroit have to offer. Charlie doesn't mind though, what better way to cap off his day than with a visit to a cozy bar? A large sum of the bar's interior and furniture has been crafted out of wood, and whilst it may be a fire hazard, it certainly succeeds in creating a congenial atmosphere. The drinks are good, too. He can feel his taste buds shattering into a million pieces as the first sip of beer reaches his mouth, as if he's abstained for years.
Charlie: Alright, so just let's keep our eyes open for an irritable blue car. Can't be hard, can it? 
Max: Shouldn't be, not many vehicles around here. He'll stand out like a car in a bar full of humans and an android, heh. 
Charlie: Precisely... 
They share a fist bump together. 
Max: You really believe what that Jordan guy said? That we'll make millions with this?
Charlie: I hope so. It's about time we get some critical acclaim for all our hard work. 
Max: I don't know...
Charlie: What do you mean you don't know?
Max: I'm kinda scared of things changing. I got used to things being the way they were, us making these small budget... well, flops, together. Don't get me wrong, I want us to succeed with this. I want us to get a career out of this. I just hope it doesn't ruin anything. I don't wanna be like every other inconsiderate, selfish, millionaire-celebrity-prick out there.
Charlie: Well then let's be considerate, unselfish millionaire-celebrity-pricks. Together. We can be good people and have a successful career at the same time, you know?
Max lets out a chuckle and takes a sip of his beer.
Max: I know.
Charlie: You know, I always wondered what beer tastes like as an android. I mean, what do you get out of it?
Max: Androids feel emotions too, shithead. My processors simulate what it tastes and feels like for you humans, intoxication included.
Charlie: What, so deviating gave you taste buds?
Max: Something like that.
Charlie laughs, and takes another large gulp. As the drink pours down his throat, he can spot a sudden movement in the corner of his eye, accompanied by the wooden creaking of the bar entrance being opened. He turns to see a large shadow stumbling in, something non-humanoid... Could it really be? Had their lucky streak really escalated to the point they'd be blessed with the manifestation of that mythical blue car within minutes of staying at the bar? Could it be possible?
The answer is yes, it could. Charlie's eyes widen as Cyberlife Car drives to the counter to order a drink. Hot-hand fallacy his ass. With a quick glance towards Max, he spots that the same recognition is shared on his face. 
Charlie: That's him, right? 
Max's retinal scanners perform a quick scan to confirm the car's identity just so they'll be certain, and indeed, the vehicle is confirmed to be Cyberlife Car #001, the heroic vigilante and famed ex-boxer, the vehicle whose approval they need to splash out of the muddy legal waters they'd be swimming in if they were to make a movie about him without approaching him first. He's the last bump in their road, a bump Charlie's determined to get past. He jolts out of his seat, before being pulled back by Max. 
Max: Look at him. It's clear he started drinking before he even got here, he's had a few too many, don't you think? 
Charlie: And? Him being drunk just means he'll be more prone to accepting suggestions that he'd soberly give more thought to! 
Max: I don't know about that, Charlie. I mean you can go up to him and schedule a meeting later for tomorrow, but maybe don't say anything specific about the movie just yet? Just keep it vague, okay? 
Charlie: I gotta go with my gut.
Charlie gets up, leaving Max awaiting in dread at the table. Max raises his arms to cover his face in embarrassment, fearing the catastrophe that the conversation will most certainly end up being. It's like watching a car crash about to happen in slow motion, and telling one of the cars to slow down and cross the road at a better time, only for them to not listen and crash anyway. The difference is that this time one of them's a human and the only actual car is an experienced drunken killing machine. Refusing to heed Max's warnings, Charlie takes a confident leap towards Cyberlife Car, startling him. 
Charlie: Hey, I'm sorry to bother you. You're Cyberlife Car, right? 
The word "intoxicated" isn't nearly enough to describe how far gone Cyberlife Car is. His words are nothing but incomprehensible mumbling. 
CC: How'd... y-you figure that out? 
Charlie: I'd recognize my hero anywhere. 
CC: So... you a fan? 
Charlie: A fanatic! 
Cyberlife Car lets out a loud, pained groan. 
CC: Look, bud. I try to stay low pr-profile for a reason. I'm not a fucking hero, I don't look back at Cyberlife United with pride. So just leave me alone, fucker. 
Charlie: Well, me being a fan isn't the only reason I came up to talk to you, I- 
Cyberlife Car sobers up, his emotions escalating. 
CC: What, you want my autograph so you can sell it on cBay for a couple of bucks? Just go. 
Charlie: I'm a director, and a writer. My name is Charlie Nelson, and I'd be very interested in telling Cyberlife United's story through a movie. 
Cyberlife Car stares at Charlie in disbelief, the words pushing him back like an immense gust of wind, a metaphysical punch in the gut. 
CC: You... you what? 
Charlie: You guys were heroes, and this would be a good way to honor you. A way to commemorate the ones who passed away, like Cyberlife Bus- 
Cyberlife Car leaps forward, driving up only mere inches away from Charlie's face, his wheels grabbing the director by his shirt. 
CC: Don't say his fucking name. 
Charlie's sweat glands are working overtime to drench his shirt, while his arms wail back in timorous cowardice. His knees shake, his arm pits submerge themselves in damp perspiration, the entirety of his skin is covered with a nasty layer of moisture. He'd feel dryer even if he were swimming in the ocean; never before has he experienced a state of being drenched quite like this, all caused by a simple act of intimidation from Cyberlife Car. At least the car's reputation seems to be well-earned. Charlie's fully expecting to suffer an instantaneous lethal blow from the vehicle's wheels at any second. He can picture it so clearly; the red, sticky, messiness of his brains being vigorously splattered all over the wooden interior of the bar, while no one can muster up a word, or even call the police, all out of fear of suffering the same fate. The bar's owners would just quietly clean it up, toss his corpse out into the back alley, and probably offer Cyberlife Car some free drinks to apologize for any inconvenience his encounter with Charlie may have caused. Max would be left isolated and alone, quietly grieving the loss of his friend and their shared project in a strange land. And with that thought, Charlie's brains jump into action to conjure up an escape plan. It can't end like this, their movie has to come to fruition. As he searches for ways to get out of the car's grasp, his mind jumps to the most natural, innate, primal, human reaction; pleading for his life and begging for mercy. 
Charlie: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't kill me. 
Charlie closes his eyes. His ingenious plan seems to have worked, as the immense force holding him up mere moments ago lets him drop to the ground. Cyberlife Car jerks backwards with a steady dash, leaving the director flustered on the floor. 
CC: Just leave me alone. 
Despite having just feared for his life, a new state of clarity comes upon him, as he begins to see the rationale behind the vehicle's actions. Cyberlife Car wouldn't attack -- let alone kill him in a public setting. Their little scuffle was merely a macho show of force, Cyberlife Car must have felt a need to prove himself as the real deal, the ultimate badass. With a reputation like his, Charlie wagers it completely understandable. Once the vehicle heard they were making a movie about him, he needed to ensure a completely accurate portrayal of his character. That wouldn't have been the case if he'd been all sunshine and rainbows upon being approached, that's how he'd have been portrayed in the film too. No better way to showcase his rough nature than by showing off to the director. Charlie wasn't born yesterday, he recognizes Cyberlife Car's actions as a mere bluff. With newfound confidence, he gets up and moves closer to the car. 
Charlie: Pfft, alright. Guess we won't make the movie then. 
CC: Good. 
Charlie: Guess you won't get to become rich and famous, that'd suck right? 
CC: I told you to leave me alone. 
Charlie: Man, you'd just hate to live in a nicer house, isn't that right? 
CC: I'm warning you. 
Charlie: Maybe you'd even get to move away from this dump of a city and- 
Before his brains can even register the sight of any movement, a world-shattering wave of pain and suffering sends him barreling towards the floor. He's lying on the floor and grasping for air. A single, supernaturally swift jab to the gut was enough to make Charlie collapse and heave. Yet again, Cyberlife Car's reputation as a fighter seems to be for good reason. Charlie figures he may have been mistaken regarding the bluff. 
CC: It's a no. You won't make money off of my friends' deaths. 
From the other side of the bar, Max leaps out of his chair and rushes over to where his friend lies still. He's had enough, he watched their altercation through the gaps between his robotic fingers, but he can't let the public shaming go on for any longer, otherwise he'll simultaneously combust out of sheer embarrassment for even being associated with Charlie. He places his arm over friend's shoulder and lifts him up. He turns towards with an apologetic expression. 
Max: I apologize for my friend, we'll leave you alone. 
Max is still holding onto Charlie, as he practically carries him out of the door in search of some fresh air. The cold, chilly breeze of late-winter Detroit hits Charlie's face as they reach the outside-world, away from the hostility and nasty gut-jabs of former Cyberlife United heroes. Max helps Charlie lie down beside the exterior of the bar, as he resumes fighting for air. Little by little, Charlie manages to recover from the serious physical trauma he suffered thanks to CC's wheels, and lifts his gaze towards Max, whose facial expression conveys the words "I told you so" as clear as day. 
Charlie: Yeah yeah, smartass... You were right, I should've waited. 
Max: That's where trusting your gut gets you. 
Charlie: Hell, I don't think there's anything left of my gut after that punch. Man, I'll make sure the movie portrays him accurately for what he is; an asshole. 
Max: We'll still make the movie? I thought CC's answer was a pretty clear cut "no". 
Charlie: So? Like you said, there's no copyright for real life events. As long as we don't portray things inaccurately, he can't sue us for defamation. 
Max: But it's wrong! It's immoral, that's exactly how those millionaire celebrity pricks think! 
Charlie: What choice do we have? Hell, like we said earlier, it's a miracle this movie hasn't been made already. And if we're not the ones to make it, someone else will. Someone else who will not give a shit about morality. Especially now that I've pitched the idea to Horizon. If I call them up and tell them I changed my mind on making the movie, not only will they refuse to produce any of my future projects, resulting in both of our careers dying out, they'll just hire another director with the pitch and make the film anyway! 
Max: You don't know that! These guys put their lives on the line to protect this city, I can't disrespect them by supporting this shit. Not if they don't support the project. 
Charlie: And you're just conveniently ignoring the fact that the detectives were fully on-board, great... 
Max: Yeah, under the pretense that we talk to CC. 
Charlie: We did talk to him. They said nothing about him having to approve of it, just that we should talk to him. And anyway- 
Their argument comes to an abrupt stop, as Charlie's ringtone begins playing. He reaches into his pocket to see who's calling him. Upon doing so, he's greeted by the name "Jordan Jones" displayed on his phone's screen. 
Charlie: Shit, sorry. I gotta take this, it's Jordan. 
Max lets out an audible groan. Hesitantly, Charlie answers the call. The wonderfully inauthentic joy plastering Jordan's voice echoes down Charlie's eardrums. 
Charlie: Hey, Jordan. 
Jordan: Nelson! How's my favorite future Oscar-winning director doing? What's the progress, you get those vehicles' blessing for the movie yet?
Charlie: Not exactly... 
Jordan: What does that mean?
Charlie: Cyberlife Van and - Bus 5 gave us the go-ahead, but Cyberlife Car wasn't quite as eager. I approached him like ten minutes ago in a bar, during what I now see was a moment of much needed privacy for him. He wasn't super happy about my suggestion, so he hit me in the gut. I won't be surprised to find out I have a broken bone somewhere.
Jordan: That's great!
Charlie's taken aback, and quite frankly, offended. Had Jordan not been listening, had Charlie misheard him? Or did Jordan really have such a warped, twisted, perverted, and downright abhorrent worldview that he saw the physical assault that Charlie endured as a good thing?
Charlie: Why's that great?
Jordan: Well, seeing as he physically assaulted you, he'll have no basis for a solid lawsuit against us. He can call it "disrespectful" or "defamation" all he wants, if he ever gets lawyers involved, we'll sue his ass for battery. As if that drunkard would even bother to go ahead with something that required paperwork. 
Charlie: Right... Well, my cinematographer Max brought out some concerns regarding how ethical this is. 
Jordan: There's no "ethics" or "morals" in the word "Hollywood", kiddo. Spell out the letters and you'll figure that out. 
Charlie: Okay... Thanks, Jordan. 
As the phone slides back into the humble abode that is Charlie's pocket, Charlie raises his gaze to Max's judgmental stare, dooming him and his eternal sins. His high horse of morality is really getting on Charlie's nerves. 
Charlie: Look, Max, buddy... You gotta listen to me. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. This is our ticket to making it. Everything we ever wanted, and now you're backing out? Cyberlife Car can't even sue us, he physically assaulted me! Jordan told me- 
Max: I don't give a shit about what Jordan said. It's not right. 
Charlie: Let's make it right. You and me. Remember our list of what we wanted this movie to be? It's gonna be that, I promise you. Cyberlife Car's gonna change his mind. I just need you with me. Please, Max. 
And with that, everything is settled. With Charlie as the director and writer, Max as the cinematographer, and the pitch approved by both Horizon Entertainment and two out of the three living Cyberlife United members, they're ready to move into pre-production. 
=== Casting Call ===
It's been two months since Charlie pitched the idea of the project to Horizon Entertainment. He's been vigorously working on the first draft of the script ever since, striking down the letters on the keyboard as he felt like God himself writing down the Ten Commandments into the Bible. He has a faint recollection of Max telling him that the Bible wasn't actually written by God, but that notion is buried deep within the depths of his mind. He doesn't believe in the all-seeing fellow anyway, so he figures it doesn't matter who wrote the book. What matters is his script. Notes from the detectives have given him the foundation for the story; they gave him the backbones, and it's his duty to now build up on it, shape it into the movie it'll wind up being. 
For Charlie, the directing process doesn't start when the cameras start rolling and he's giving out orders. The directing process begins much sooner, it begins the moment he has the epiphany on what he'll make a movie about. So ever since that fateful day with Max in Silver Lake, he's been directing. He's been carefully constructing the film in the auditorium located within his mind; words written into the script shift into scenes that play out within his head, abstract ideas get forged and molded into crucial aspects of the project, that's what required for his masterpiece to become everything he needs it to be. 
Historical recollections of the years gone by haven't been the only form of aid that the vehicle detectives have provided in the meticulous construction of Charlie's masterpiece, they're also providing short notes on the personalities and behavior . They've given him a detailed account of how all the important events went down. Charlie's used a bit of his creative freedom here and there, but nothing that'd get out of hand. In the meantime, Max has been helping with the other aspects of pre-production. He's been scouting out potential filming locations for their scenes, securing permits and estimating the project's costs. The studio's been generous with their budget, so both of them have a high level of confidence for the project succeeding. 
The studio's granted Charlie a week to finish the first draft of the script. Despite the looming deadline, he figures that it's crucial for him to attend the upcoming casting call that Horizon has arranged. They've got a long list of names ahead of them, all of them auditioning for roles in his movie. He needs to be there to weed out the shining stars from the sinking ships. As Charlie strides past the queue, a realization comes upon him; it's the longest line of people for a casting call he's ever witnessed. An ocean of actors with dreams of stardom and fame, yet only a handful of them will have those dreams fulfilled. Charlie dreads the looks of disappointment and shame from those they’ll turn away, but anticipates the joy and glimmer from the lucky few that’ll get chosen. Being one of the decision-makers here is a heavy burden on his heart.
He sits down in the audition room, surrounded by crew from Horizon Entertainment. This crew includes the casting director, and the producer Jordan Jones, seated beside Charlie. Charlie prays that he'll be able to get through the auditions with as little interaction with Jordan as possible. As they finish setting up, one of Horizon's employees gives the first auditioner in line the go ahead. Charlie stares at the youthful man who steps into the room, his eyes piercing through his soul. 
Kevin: Um, hey. My name's Kevin Trumbull, and I'm an actor. I'm here to audition for the role of "Kent C". 
Charlie: Nice to meet you, Kevin. Give us the best you've got. 
Kevin: Got it.
Kevin makes a loud ahem sound, and begins reading the scene he's been given. 
Kevin: Kent C, angry! Stop moving. You better not try- 
Charlie: Wait, "Kent C, angry"? Why would you say that?
Kevin: Huh? It says so here in the script. I'm just reading what's been given to me.
Charlie glances down at the script to see what's been written. It says "Kent C (Angry): Stop moving. You better not try anything, and get out now." He immediately realizes what confused Kevin.
Charlie: Kevin, "Kent C" is there to tell you who's speaking and "angry" is just describing what emotion you're meant to convey. 
Kevin: So I don't have to read those parts out loud?
Charlie: No, you don't. Just your lines of dialogue.
Kevin: Ahh, gotcha... Sorry about that, let me try again. 
Charlie: Whenever you're ready.
Kevin makes another loud "ahem" sound, before starting over.
Kevin: Stop moving. You better not try anything, and get out now. CB. Nice try, but we're not so easily intimidated. We're here to-
Charlie: NO! Kevin, that's the character's name again! Fuck, it's not even your character's dialogue. You're supposed to just read the parts that Kent C says. Emily is the reader here, she reads all the other characters' dialogue to help you with the scene. Your job is to just focus on Kent.
Emily smiles and waves at Kevin.
Charlie: One more try, okay?
Kevin: Okay...
The loud "ahem" echoes through the room. 
Kevin: Stop moving. You better not try anything, and get out now.
Emily: Nice try, but we're not so easily intimidated. We're here to stop you from killing innocent vehicles.
Kevin: What? I didn't kill anyone, why the fuck is she accusing me of murder? Bitch!
Charlie buries his face in his hands. He can't be bothered to say anything.
Jordan: Thanks for the audition, Kevin. Next!
Kevin leaves the room with the same primary emotion that was flowing through his body throughout the entire audition, confusion. Charlie's quite sure that Kevin's been confused since birth. As the next auditioner enters the room, Charlie attempts to start things off with a clean plate. He's hoping there'll be some shining gems hidden between all the Kevins. More auditions pass by, as Charlie gradually loses hope. He's beginning to worry if they'll find any capable actors to cast. With his faith at its lowest, he welcomes the next actor, CB 410 into the room. 
CB 410: Hey guys! I'm CB 410, and I'm the guy you're gonna hire to play Cyberlife Bus. Hya!
Charlie: Confident, I see. Welp, go on ahead.
CB 410: Cyberlife Car? Nani, what happened, is Cyberlife Mercedes-san okay?! Did the police come? 
Emily: Calm down. The police said they found us knocked out, and tried to chase after the perpetrator, but couldn't catch him. They examined the warehouse and found tons of other butchered vehicle corpses. I'm just grateful we made it out alive. 
CB 410: Dattebayo... Besides Cyberlife Motorcycle, that is. Fuck, I can't believe she's dead... 
Charlie speaks up. 
Charlie: Well you're actually doing really well acting-wise, but could you maybe leave out those... how do I put this... "anime additions"? 
CB 410: Hm? What do you mean? 
Charlie: You know, that... "nani", "dattebayo" stuff. LIke your actual acting is really on point, just stick to the script and we'll be golden. 
CB 410: Heh, I guess I watch too much anime, I can feel the spirit of anime coming inside me! Arigato for the advice, sensei. 
Charlie mumbles under his breath, saying nothing but "Jesus christ" to himself. 
Charlie: Great. Just continue without the improvisations, okay? 
CB 410: Gotcha! Hya! Ok, so let's see... 
Charlie: Whenever you're ready. 
CB 410: I don't know what to do, CC. That was a... vehicle killer? Like a serial killer? Bakemono... 
Charlie lets the audition play out until the end. Despite his improvisations, Charlie can notice the genuine skill and emotion in CB 410's line delivery. He leans over to Jordan's ear, and whispers him a question. 
Charlie: Can we cut out those weird anime things he says in post-production? 
Jordan: Yeah, it's doable. 
Charlie: Perfect... I'm liking this guy as a candidate, he'll be perfect if we just edit it to include his actual lines of dialogue. 
Charlie leans back and lets CB 410 exit the room 
Category:Episodes