Chloe and Theo Page #2

- You don't have warriors?

What kind of people are you?

Who's like, the baddest hunter

there's ever been in the North Pole?

- Nanuk.

- Nanuk! He's like Nanuk, times a thousand.

Nanuk is the Lord of the North.

And Bruce is the Lord of everything else.

Here endeth the lesson.

Sancho, what day is it?

Tuesday.

Monday's we eat Thai food.

Wednesday is Chinese.

Thursday is Indian. Tuesday is Italian.

Hey, here he comes.

Pizza!

Thanks.

Come here. Food on your face.

Good?

- Are you sure you don't want any?

- Really good!

- So what's the deal with the old people?

- It's a long story.

- Is it a love story?

- No.

- Kung Fu, yeah?

- I don't think so.

Tell it anyway.

It's not like there's much on TV.

Okay.

Imagine a land so vast,

and beautiful, and silent,

that if you take a harpoon

and scrape the ice with it,

you can hear the sound

for miles and miles.

He talked about the oneness

his people have with the Earth.

How they watched the moon

to determine when the animals migrate.

But history isn't written,

but is passed down verbally

from generation to generation.

And then, he told us

about the Elder's dream.

The legend of the angry sun.

They told me,

these are the beginning of things.

They told me I will live

on the never ending ice,

under the midnight sun.

They told me of Hysa,

the men of the South.

Their capacity for destruction.

Their need for expansion.

Building structures

that scraped the clouds,

and stopped the sun

from seeing the Earth,

from seeing the planets,

from seeing the people.

And the men of the South

grew sick and ugly.

But still the refuse

of their ambitions spilled out.

Burning the ocean and spreading across

the great country itself.

And then, the sun grew angry.

Wait! Let me take this from the top.

- Your name is Teddy.

- Theo.

- And you are an Eskimo?

- Inuk.

- From Antarctica?

- The Arctic. North, not south.

- On a mission from God?

- From my Elders.

About the end of the world?

I need to speak to your Elders,

your leaders.

The ones who the people listen to.

You mean the President.

- You want to speak to the President!

- If he is the leader of the south.

The South?

But... let me get this straight.

Where you're from...

- everything is south, right?

- Yes.

So you want to speak to every president.

Every single one?

- You're screwed.

- No, he's not. No, he's not screwed.

Sancho, you're missing the one

crucial piece of this jigsaw puzzle.

- Really?

- Yeah.

- What?

- Me!

You're screwed.

My body is a friggin' temple.

- You play chess?

- No.

Mr. Sweet does.

He's like the best player in New York.

He makes a pretty good living

hustling college kids and tourists.

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