EXT. SAUDI DESERT ROAD – DAY
The sun beats down on the endless stretch of sand. Stan and Plastic Man walk side by side down the cracked, empty road, the horizon shimmering from the heat. Neither of them looks like they'd just been fighting minutes ago no tension, just two men walking as if this were normal.
Stan keeps his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the dunes ahead. His voice is low, almost cautious.
Stan: Why are you helping me?
Plastic Man grins, stretching his neck forward like a periscope to look at Stan's face.
Plastic Man: I've got my reasons! Look at me once a criminal, now a hero. If I can do it, anyone can!
Stan frowns, glancing at him sideways.
Stan: That's not… that's not what I asked. What the hell are you even talking about?
Plastic Man chuckles, his arms swinging loosely like rubber bands. He doesn't answer. Stan sighs, looking ahead again. That's when he notices a battered wooden sign on the side of the road Arabic script painted over with an arrow pointing west.
Stan slows down, pointing at it.
Stan: Hey, Plas… were we here earlier?
Plastic Man tilts his head, his eyes stretching comically like binoculars to read the sign.
Plastic Man: Hmm… no idea. Roads all look the same out here. Let's keep going.
Stan narrows his eyes but keeps walking. The two men continue in silence for another hour, the desert wind whistling softly. Their footprints drag behind them, the heat rising in waves.
Up ahead the same sign again. The same cracked wood, the same painted arrow pointing west.
Stan stops dead in his tracks, turning to Plastic Man.
Stan: …We've been walking for an hour. And we're back here again.
Plastic Man scratches his head, his fingers stretching around like rubber bands.
Plastic Man: Huh. Déjà vu. Guess we're not as far from trouble as we thought.
Heat shimmers around Stan and Plastic Man as they trudge forward, their shadows long on the cracked asphalt.
Stan slows down a little, eyes scanning the horizon uneasily.
Stan: Hey, Plas… do you feel something… Terrible gonna happen?
Plastic Man blinks, his rubbery brow furrowing.
Plastic Man: What do you mean? Terrorball gonna happen? What's that supposed to...
"CRACK!"
A single shot echoes across the desert. Stan's head jerks violently as a bullet rips through his skull. Two more shots slam into the left side of his head. Blood sprays onto the road as Stan drops like a stone, lifeless, sand spilling from his wounds.
Plastic Man's eyes go wide, his whole body snapping back like a whip.
Plastic Man: TURNER BOY! NO WAY! HOW?! BUT WHERE THE ENEMY!
A shadow appears down the road. A man steps into view a tall figure with white hair, a white beard, and a battered sheriff's pistol still smoking in his hand.
Plastic Man's voice shakes.
Plastic Man: Wh–who are you?!
The man tips his hat, his face a mask of calm menace.
Ringo: Me? I'm Ringo Eastern… bounty hunter. Amanda Waller hired me.
Plastic Man's eyes widen even further.
Plastic Man: Amanda Waller? You gotta be kidding me…
He subtly shifts, hiding his right hand behind his back as it morphs into a sharp, glinting spike. His thoughts race.
Plastic Man (thought): Why do I feel we're gonna fight over and over non-stop…
The desert wind picks up. Both men stand motionless, eyes locked. Overhead, a lone bird glides by with a harsh kawk kawk sound, the only witness to the tension.
Then, in a blur, both strike, Ringo's pistol barks twice. Plastic Man's spike lunges forward.
"BANG! BANG!"
The bullet slams into Plastic Man's neck. He gasps, staggering back, blood spraying from a wound he's never felt before.
Plastic Man: What the... It's hot...
At the same time, his spike drives into Ringo's chest, right where the heart should be. Ringo grunts, eyes flashing with pain.
And then everything blinks.
They're both back at the standoff a second earlier, as if nothing happened. The bird caws again overhead. Plastic Man blinks, frozen, feeling the phantom sting of the bullet.
Plastic Man (thought): What the hell? I swear I got shot in the neck…
Ringo smirks slowly, his eyes glowing faintly as if he knows something Plastic Man doesn't.
Plastic Man's body starts to shake. Sweat beads on his brow.
Plastic Man: This… this is my first time… I bled…