The 8 Show (2024) s01e05 Episode Script

1
Shit. Ketchup got on my…
Give me a pillow.
You up?
7th Floor. Are you awake?
What happened?
Isn't it obvious? You got caught.
I know you were working with them
to be on equal footing with us,
but that's boring.
No one would watch.
It needs to pack a punch.
Don't you think so?
You know how the system here works.
It's designed for the top
to control the lower floors.
We had a nice little setup.
Why side with them when you're so smart?
That's no fun.
What are you?
Some kinda limousine liberal?
The eight of us are in the same boat.
Isn't it best to earn as much money
before the show ends?
Trust me, they'll thank us later.
What's their fucking deal?
They probably did it
to prevent us from buying weapons.
Weapons?
She's probably right.
There's no other reason
to break our room intercoms.
Don't fret. I'll make you rich.
Should we have bought something?
I feel so bad for 7th Floor.
Why would they take an unconscious man?
Maybe they're trying
to bring him to their side.
"To their side"?
Because 7th Floor
is on one of the top floors.
With the chute and all, it'll be difficult
for them if he's in the middle.
That would be really bad news.
He was the only smart one of us.
Hey.
I'm smart.
Sure.
I doubt 7th Floor would do that.
He worked so hard
to make sure we'd all do well.
Right?
I'm pretty close to 7th Floor.
We smoke together and stuff.
Right.
You all haven't received one, right?
A meal kit.
No, I haven't had one yet.
And why aren't they coming out?
Right. Do you think something's up?
What the heck is that?
Why am I getting a bad feeling?
Why does he have his arms…
7th…
7th Floor, are you feeling okay?
I'm going to announce
how things will be run from now on.
We currently have about 160 hours left.
Until the end date we agreed on,
your goal is to maintain
the remaining hours.
In other words,
you must earn 24 hours each day,
just like before.
Hey, what's going on?
What do you mean by "your goal"?
Aren't we meant to do this together?
Are you ordering us to earn time
while you guys weasel out?
No way. Surely not.
7th Floor. That's not it, is it?
You can refuse if you wish.
It's your choice.
- But meals won't be provided.
- You're gonna starve us to death?
The game will end if you do!
We won't let you die.
Everyone knows what that means.
They'll keep us on the brink of death,
feeding us only enough to survive.
We've starved for three days,
so we all know
just how terrible this threat is.
If you earn time
by participating in the games,
you will be rewarded with coins.
Water and meal kits are a coin each.
Items bought through the delivery chute
in the square will also cost you coins.
A coin is equivalent to three hours.
In other words, you will receive a coin
for every three hours you earn.
What if we fail?
You won't be given any coins.
You crazy bastards.
- Are you kidding me?
- 2nd Floor, wait.
Take another step. I dare you.
This one's made for cops, so it's no joke.
No need to overthink this.
To purchase a meal kit
and a bottle of water,
you need two coins.
Since a coin equals three hours,
you can go through a day with no issues
by earning just six hours a day.
Since you've all done it so far,
you know that six hours per person
isn't that difficult.
He's saying we won't eat
if we don't earn time.
They didn't just win him over.
He's become their lackey
to leech off of us.
Come on, 7th Floor.
Don't you think this is too much?
We've all worked together until now.
I don't get why you're putting
everything on us suddenly!
Yes, he's right. How can you be so cruel?
We're all a family while we're still here.
You're basically saying
you're going to exploit us!
You motherfucker!
I told you this was no joke.
Anyone else?
1st Floor.
This is too brutal. I can't watch.
Wow! Look how much time we're earning!
Nothing has changed.
We came here for money,
and we'll leave with a sum
we can't imagine earning outside.
You're just working slightly harder
to achieve that now.
The floors decide our roles.
And you just happen to be
on the working floors.
This box contains the games
that you will be playing.
You'll choose one from here.
Only the winner will escape punishment.
What's the penalty?
Are we going to get tased again?
That depends on the game.
You'll find out once you play.
Why don't you choose first, 3rd Floor?
Hey.
It's hide-and-seek.
- Hide-and-seek?
- Yes.
Before we start the game,
please choose eyes, tongue, arms, or legs.
What do you mean?
Eyes, tongue, arms, or legs.
Choose one each.
Tell us why.
Why are you making us choose?
- Because--
- It'll be more fun to keep it a secret.
- That fucking bitch.
- 2nd Floor.
What do I do?
What do I do?
What do I choose?
What are they trying to do?
For me…
I choose arms.
Oh God, I'm about to go nuts.
I'll choose
legs.
I choose tongue, then.
Then it's eyes for 2nd Floor.
Shall we tie them up, then?
Tie us up?
Please handle them with care.
6th Floor is the seeker,
and the four of us are runners.
This hide-and-seek has
two unique elements.
First, runners are given a penalty
based on their chosen body part.
Secondly, we aren't out of the game
when 6th Floor finds us,
but when he hits us.
All right. Are you all ready?
- Let's go!
- Ten!
HIDE-AND-SEEK
Nine!
- Eight!
- Hurry up and hide!
Seven!
Six!
Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
- One!
- Here we come!
Where are you guys all hiding?
Hey!
Over there.
Stop!
1st Floor, you're out!
Over there!
Quick! Hurry!
That makes two!
Okay, we have two left!
Where are you guys all hiding?
Ready or not
Here I come
Where are you? I can't see you.
Where are they?
What? This is so fun!
Why you little…
- That's enough.
- Let go!
The game's over. You got three.
Look how the time has skyrocketed.
3rd Floor stayed hidden until the end,
so he's the winner.
Congratulations.
As I mentioned earlier,
3rd Floor is exempt from the penalty.
One of the three losers
will be punished at random.
Let's get ready, then.
4th Floor.
The penalty is a random swing.
The winner, 3rd Floor,
will cover his eyes,
spin ten times on the spot,
and begin swinging the bat.
The one to be hit
will be chosen at random.
But don't you think this is too much?
As I said,
you need to earn at least 24 hours a day.
If you don't earn that much
from this punishment,
we'll have to proceed
to the next game immediately.
I hope you choose wisely.
"I'M SORRY!"
- "IT'S OKAY, 3RD FLOOR!"
- "DO IT!"
"I'LL BE FINE."
"I'M SO SORRY!"
One!
Two!
Three!
Four!
Five!
"DO IT ALREADY!"
Seven!
"3RD FLOOR! I'M OKAY!"
Eight! Nine!
"JUST FUCKING DO IT!"
Ten! Swing!
You've been chosen.
1st Floor. I'm sorry.
Oh no, he's bleeding. Oh my.
Breathe. You have to breathe.
Earning 26 hours from the first game
is very impressive.
You get a coin for three hours,
but as a token of our gratitude
for your diligent work,
we'll give you nine coins.
Now, please write down the number of coins
you want to receive.
What the heck is this?
If the total number of coins
you've written down exceeds nine,
we will take back
all the coins you earned today.
What kind of bullshit is this?
Are you implying that if the sum
of our numbers is greater than nine,
we'll leave empty-handed?
- All of us?
- That's right.
Fuck.
He's smart, isn't he?
You are forbidden from discussing this.
If caught cheating,
you'll all be responsible,
and we'll confiscate all the coins.
Please keep that in mind.
You should at least give us time
to discuss--
From now on,
please stay silent.
Here you go.
Group responsibility.
We are rewarded individually
but punished as a team.
That diabolic bastard.
No talking or even glancing at each other.
Got it?
All right, let's see.
Nine coins in total, and four of us.
If we get two coins each…
that leaves one extra.
What a waste.
Honestly, since I'm the winner,
don't I deserve to get three?
One person can get an extra one.
Yeah, okay. Nine coins.
Wait.
Is it fair for the winner to get three?
Getting hit again as a penalty
is bad enough.
What if 1st Floor thinks
he deserves three?
And 2nd Floor might find it unfair
since she got beaten up the most.
So if they each write three…
Wait. Yeah, hold on a minute.
I can't trust 5th Floor either.
She could write down three
just because she's hungry.
She could easily do that.
Damn, I can't trust anyone here.
They'll only think about themselves.
There's no one smart on this team.
I'm their only hope. I have no choice.
Come on. This isn't right.
I need water, at least.
Wait, what if they all write three?
If they have a conscience,
they should let me survive, at least.
The total number of coins
you've written down
is seven.
Seven?
We'll provide the quantity written down,
so please use it wisely.
They all wrote two except for me.
I might have overthought this.
The team's brain, my ass.
I only have one coin,
so I have no choice but to use it for…
7th Floor. You son of a bitch.
You backstabbing fucker.
You goddamn son of a bitch.
This is exactly why
you shouldn't trust a four-eyes.
That's right.
Just hang on a bit longer.
It's Twenty Questions.
Twenty Questions?
Is this some kind of game
where they pummel us 20 times?
Each of you will take turns
asking questions.
Whoever guesses the correct answer
within 20 questions
will be the winner.
And just like yesterday,
the winner will be given the right
to carry out the penalty.
It's not that great
to carry out the penalty.
Shall we begin?
TWENTY QUESTIONS
Okay, we'll begin now.
Come on, let's focus.
In this game,
it's best to guess the big category first.
Doing so is key
to finding the answer within 20 questions.
Is it a person?
- No.
- Is it alive?
- Does it have a shape?
- No.
Does it refer to an action, then?
Oh! An action?
I guess it could count as an action.
Do you do it alone or as a team?
You can't do it alone.
You need at least two.
Is it painful or pleasant?
It's very pleasant.
You need at least two people,
and it's pleasant?
Could it be
something sexual?
This isn't sexual.
What are you thinking of?
Is it something
that we all know?
Yes.
You'd be stupid not to know by now.
I have the answer.
- Wait.
- I--
Have you thought it through?
I'm sorry, but I'm confident.
- You should take--
- No, really.
I think I have the answer.
Is it "game"?
Wrong!
That was ten questions.
If you take a guess,
it's considered a question.
Hold on. A game?
She's quite sharp.
I think I got it.
If I'm right, the answer is…
Wait, hang on.
If I win now,
I'll be handed the bat again.
Is this perhaps an opportunity?
To let 2nd Floor answer correctly.
To let her hold the weapon.
Yes, she's a fighter.
Have you all given up?
No, I'll answer.
I'll take a guess.
If it's not a game,
is it "quiz"?
- Wrong.
- That was 11 questions.
I gave her a hint
in the guise of a wrong answer.
2nd Floor, please catch on
and think of the answer.
Let me take a guess.
Shoot, 1st Floor.
Sorry?
We all know what this is.
Why are you stepping in?
- It's not a game and not a quiz either.
- 1st Floor, wait.
But we all know the answer.
No, don't. Hold on.
Dude.
Stop!
No!
I'm sorry.
I think I have the wrong answer.
What? That's lame.
- I take it back.
- Are you teasing us?
That was one heck of an assist.
1st Floor, you've caught on too.
All right. 2nd Floor, please.
Me.
She's got it!
"Twenty Questions"?
Correct!
Okay, 2nd Floor is the winner.
Congratulations.
Yes, finally, here comes our opportunity.
We're finally here.
We gave 2nd Floor the weapon of justice.
All we need now is for her
to be brave enough to swing the weapon.
Please.
Don't waste this golden opportunity.
Please don't let us… down.
You fucking bitches!
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten! Swing it!
She isn't some swordswoman
who slashes her enemies
just by sensing the wind.
Why did I expect 2nd Floor
to beat them up with her eyes covered?
She probably never even thought
about attacking them
with the baseball bat in the first place.
Once you get used to being a victim
and fully give in like that,
you come to accept it.
When you survive day by day,
trading blood, sweat, and pain
for money and time,
enduring each day
while hurting each other,
you start accepting it to be natural.
After a few days like that,
we were eventually met with a catastrophe.
On this day.
Today, you earned a total of nine coins.
However, the total number of coins
you've written down
is ten.
According to the rule,
we won't be giving you any coins today.
Our collective wishful thinking
of "I guess one extra won't hurt"
had coincidentally come at the same time
and snowballed into a great misfortune.
That means…
It's as I said. No one will get any coins.
If you have coins left, use them.
If you don't have any…
Well, I guess you'll have
a slightly tougher day.
I thought things couldn't get worse.
Hunger and thirst had become chronic.
"A slightly…"
And discomfort and squalor
became the norm.
"…tougher day"?
I didn't think it could get any worse.
Thanks for your effort.
When we realized there was no hope left…
You're all dismissed.
…we finally gave up.
But the one thing…
What are you doing?
Hurry up and get moving.
…the haves should fear is
a group of have-nots with nothing to lose.
Get back to your rooms.
Dismissed!
Hurry back to your rooms!
Looking back, you've all worked
without any rest this week.
You're bound to get edgy
when you're exhausted.
How about this?
As an incentive,
whoever returns to their room first
will be given one coin.
Let's not move an inch.
Any of us.
You all know nothing will change
if we budge now.
He's right.
Hold your ground, no matter what.
Their words were a wake-up call.
Yes. Perhaps this moment
was our final showdown.
Always losing, beaten up,
and kicked around,
we've never tasted victory.
Our first taste of victory
will act as the turning point,
bringing us level again.
It will be a ray of light
in pitch-black darkness.
And this brilliant ray of light
will send a powerful warning
to those on the higher floors,
making them unable to face--
Ten.
We'll give you ten coins.
You have a minute to step up.
Yes. I'll give you one minute,
like he said.
After exactly one minute,
I'm sure you're all aware
that we have no choice
but to resort to force.
We were given one minute,
but it didn't even take ten seconds.
I'm sorry.
I'm diabetic, so I am not feeling well.
And even now…
All our efforts were in vain,
and we, on the lower floors,
once more,
yet again
and again,
recorded yet another failure.
To be honest, I even had this thought.
If someone had to die
for this dreadful show to end…
I know it's wrong,
but I hoped for an accident,
whether it be from shock,
weakness, starvation, or whatever.
When I realize again and again
that there's absolutely no hope
in this place,
and finally become certain of it…
I want…
…my desire for "someone else to die"
will turn into…
I want
to die.
I know for sure that will happen.
Give me whatever you have.
So I can
kill myself.
You're not killing yourself.
You still have work to do.
Just go to sleep, you punk.
Wanna get shot to sleep?
- Should I?
- They're right.
It'd be better to save your energy.
It will be tougher tomorrow.
This premonition that my remaining life
will serve merely as a tool
for them to earn more money
will likely be right.
FOOD AND ACCOMMODATION PROVIDED
SPEND TIME TO EARN MONEY
How did it never cross my mind
that the true meaning
behind the no-death rule was actually
that I'd be worked to the bone?
I had it before I knew it.
I'm sorry.
1st Floor, a man of many talents,
had magically slipped us each a note.
And that note awakened
my long-dead spirit.
A revolution?
When 1st Floor sends the signal,
we're to ride down the delivery chute
to the first floor the next morning.
Fortunately, the delivery chute
is just big enough for an adult male.
One person may be weak,
but if the weak unite unexpectedly,
they will become that much stronger.
Why haven't I ever thought of this?
The slightest hope is what keeps us going.
That is all that's required.
A today better than yesterday.
A tomorrow better than today.
These small hopes
are what motivate us to live on.
Especially if that hopeful tomorrow
is what you eagerly anticipated.
We played a similar game,
endured similar violence,
and had to face similar absurdities,
but none of it felt the same as yesterday.
1st Floor's signal will change everything.
The world and the universe.
If I can hang on just until then…
It makes a noise.
What on earth is he talking about?
What makes a noise?
What does he mean?
The noise.
I can hear it.
It's here!
Having fun?
Sorry?
Are you having fun living like this?
I'm afraid I don't follow.
All you need to do is sit back
and watch others work, no?
It's all right.
Not too bad.
You have high standards.
I find it incredibly entertaining.
This is hard. Why can't I get it in?
Come on, your stance is wrong.
Don't bend your wrist.
Picture tapping it
with the back of your hand.
There.
Nice!
The delivery chute noise.
I completely overlooked it.
It could've been really bad.
But what if this is a trap?
What makes you think so?
It's dramatic
to catch us escaping
when they already know.
Wouldn't it be easier for them
to wait until we make a noise
and then catch us?
Yes. He's right.
He's clearly signaling
for us to revolt against them.
If that's so,
why did he treat us like this until now?
It was that prick 7th Floor
who kept this game so brutal.
So close! I want to go again.
Wait!
No!
Hey, are you okay?
It was 2 minutes and 45 seconds.
One final chance.
Why are you guys so weak?
We just had 15 more seconds to go.
Let's try it one last time.
Everything is going as planned.
8th Floor, 6th Floor, and 4th Floor
are all bored with watching us.
The fact that they're bored
means they have their guard down.
The only person
I'm worried about is 7th Floor.
HOLDING FOR 3 MINUTES
We can only hope that he's on our side.
I'm sorry.
Excuse me.
I've had a stomachache for some time now.
Could you buy me some medicine?
That's the signal.
"I have a stomachache"
is the signal for us to take action
and lay the trap for them.
It's time to execute the plan.
Sure. Okay.
The key, please.
I'd like to order
medicine for stomachaches.
It's the morning of the 47th day.
I couldn't sleep a wink.
My body is trembling again
out of fear, anxiety,
anticipation, and excitement.
My heart is about to explode,
but unless it really does,
I must take action.
There is no place to step back.
We've been driven to desperation,
cornered into this moment.
There is absolutely no other…
The long night has passed,
and the dawn of revolution
has finally shone upon us.
Help me!
Help!
Help me!
My stomach is killing me!
What's going on?
- I'm not sure.
- Help me!
Help!
Oh God, my stomach.
What's going on?
I think something's wrong with me.
What's the matter?
Please, help.
Help me!
My stomach hurts so much.
My stomach… Help!
Hold on.
These bastards.
Help.
Use it if something seems off.
Wow, this is making me excited.
It's like I'm being ripped apart.
My stomach hurts so much.
My stomach.
Fuck.
Give it here.
You fucking bastards.
Little pieces of shit.
There's never a dull moment.
- Hit him.
- What?
Hit him!
My hand is all better now, you bastard.