FYO!

Sparring Session

(Open up to dusky noon and slowly pan down on a condo neighborhood.)

INT-Fyo & Blake's Condo-Day

(We now cut to Blake's room when slowly awakens from his slumber, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn.)

Montage1: Blake stretches out and gets off the bed, then does 10 push-ups.

Montage2: Cut to Blake taking a shower, scrubbing his messy blonde hair.

Montage3: Brushes his teeth while his radio on the counter plays pop music in the background.

Montage4: Cut to Blake opening the closet to pick out clothes, then he gets dressed up and heads downstairs by sliding down the rail.

Blake's Fashion: Blue tank top, white sweatpants, and tennis shoes.

INT-Kitchen-Day

(Blake pours himself a bowl of cereal that looks almost like fruit loops, only it's not due to legal copyright purposes.)

(Moments later, we see Blake eating his bowl on the dinner table across from the kitchen.)

(Fyo soon walks his way down, already fully dressed in plain clothes and normal colored hair, this time it is light brown with auburn highlights.)

Fyo: Whatcha doin' there, boi?

Blake: (Nonchalant) Eating cereal.

Fyo: Good, after you sugar yourself up, let's head out and try our new toys.

Blake: Huh?

(Fyo shows Blake a wooden sword.)

Blake: (Excited) Cool, so we're done using kendo for sparring?

Fyo: Yep, but don't think this won't hurt you any less.

Fyo: So watch your back.

Later…

Training Yard-Day

(The Training yard outback has everything one could need to master and train the human body, with it being full of weights, punching bags, training dummies, kendo sticks, and even a small ring which the two boys are standing on.)

(The two are standing a few feet away from each other face to face.)

(Fyo draws his wooden sword, as does Blake, but instead of a wooden sword, he's holding a blue toy lightsaber.)

Fyo: Give me your all, Shorty, no holding back!

Blake: Taste the power of the Jedi, my force is far greater than yours!

Fyo: (Confused) Wait, what happened to the wooden sword I gave you?

Blake: My Jedi skills are not to be downplayed by a mere child's toy.

Fyo: (Annoyed) Blake, this isn't a L.A.R.P, we're sparring.

Fyo: Now cut it out and get serious.

Blake: Oh, I'll cut you out alright!

Fyo: Also, you sound more like a Sith.

(Blake leaps up in the air and clashes swords with Fyo.)

(The two lock eyes with each other, both just beaming with energy.)

(Blake makes his next move by slamming down three strikes while floating in the air, but Fyo blocks all three.)

(Blake then lands on the floor and swings with his left hand, but Fyo blocks and evades it, then finally makes his move swinging his sword near Blake's face, but he quickly dodges the swing.)

(Fyo's swing was only a distraction, as he leg-sweeps Shorts off his feet and lands face-first on the floor.)

(Blake turns around and prepares to get back up, but Fyo has his sword pointed down on his face.)

*Dramatic Pause*

(Blake swats Fyo's sword away, rolls to his right. and kips back up.)

Blake: You underestimate my power!

Blake: Now it's time to get serious-

(Blake stops himself mid-sentence when he glances down at his now-broken lightsaber.)

Blake: (Deadpan) Crap nuggets…UGH!

(Fyo sends Blake flying out the ring and onto the ground with a heavy kick to his chest in a similar manner to King Leonidas from 300.)

Fyo: You did pretty well with your evading, but next time, try to take it a little more seriously.

Blake: You're so lucky this isn't a real lightsaber, I would've had you beat way earlier.

Fyo: Yeah, I don't think so…But say if we had round 2 and you did have a real lightsaber, I'd still have you beat in an instant.

Blake: How?

(We pan out and get a wide shot of Fyo standing at the edge of the ring, towering Blake.)

Fyo: Because I have the HIGH GROUND!

Blake: That is so old!

Fyo: (Nonchalant) Yeah? Well so is the franchise, Star Wars is dead.

(After shaking and for some reason patting the back of his head, Fyo's smartphone begins to ring.)

Ringtone: PJ-PICKUP!

Fyo: Mornin' P.

INT-GARAGE LAB-NOON

(We cut to the inside of a hi-tech Garage lab that looks like something out of a comic book where we meet one of our supporting characters, PJ.)

(PJ is a young 17-year old boy with brown skin, short black hair, nicely colored amber eyes, and is wearing dark green plaid pajamas.)

PJ: Mornin', man, wasn't easy, but I got the proper intel you needed.

(While on the phone, PJ is sitting on his work desk fixing up what looks like a robotic arm with a screwdriver.)

PJ: The dude's name was Harrison Hughes, he was murdered last night outside his own apartment.

Fyo: (Voice Only) I know that part, but was he really hit by a truck?

PJ: Course not, and I betcha the media believes everyone bought that crap.

PJ: Anyway I got the details from the Coroner thanks to some strings I pulled with a friend.

(PJ scrolls through his phone to send photos of an X-ray.)

PJ: His whole upper body was shattered by some sort of shockwave, my first guess would be a sonic amplifier.

(Cut back to Fyo.)

Fyo: Sonic amplifier…

(Fyo thinks for a second to remember if he saw anything like that from last night.

Fyo: I'm pretty sure it's the dealer from last night I missed, but I don't recall seeing any type of shock or sound-based tech.

Fyo: It was mostly just guns and explosives.

PJ: That's what you get for not bringing ME last night to confiscate them.

Fyo: Heh, come on, bro, you know I wouldn't be allowed to do that.

Fyo: But keep me updated, I'm off to go meet the witness and see where we'll go from there.

PJ: Gotcha, and I expect to have my cut in this.

(Cut back to PJ.)

Fyo: (Annoyed) You will.

PJ: I better, I don't care how if you're super ninja, lowball me, and I'll stick this broom in my garage so firm and far up your sun where the ass doesn't shine.

Fyo: Y-you mean so far up my a-

PJ: I know what I said, and I know what I'm about, BYE!

(PJ hung up.)

Fyo: Huh…

Fyo: OK, let's go suit up.

Blake: Mission time?

Fyo: Mission time.