#but I was drawing so I didn't even notice this text flash across the scrren

[insomnia-productions]

i don't know if anyone remembers that teen apocalypse show Daybreak that Netflix cancelled after one season but im rewatching it while i wait for Yellowjackets s2 and i just transcribed turbo's entire on-screen-text speech from episode 6 and im going a little insane. i love him sm

anyway here it is:

You all. Every one of you. My legion, my friends, my tribe. I see you. I know your names and I know your heart. I know who puts in an honest day’s work. And I know who slacks the system. You know it, too. You know who you are. I SEE YOU. And it’s to you, I say, I’m lowkey-not-lowkey ballistic. You trust me to give you everything, yeah. Food, shelter, warmth, weapons, leadership, safety. Even a beer every now and then. And in return, you know what I ask? It’s pretty fucking simple. I ask that you don’t murder-kill me. That’s how this shit is supposed to work. Fair exchange, right? I mean, after everything I’ve built here? Look around you. This is our school. Our public school. And a public school takes in anybody. I take in anybody. There’s always a seat for you on my bleachers. Doesn’t matter your former tribe. Doesn’t matter who you used to be. You’re safe here. I’m the eye in Hurricane Nuclear Fallout. I’m the SPF-120 protecting you from the heat-blasting sun. And once it sets, I’m the only warm blanket you got on these bitter-ass nights. I give you all this, and I ask the simplest thing in return. Loyalty. Loyalty and trust. Loyalty and trust and like an inch of respect maybe. But mostly, loyalty. And would it seriously hurt you to pick up the trash every once in a while. This place is a mess. And it’s starting to smell like foot cheese. Again: I SEE YOU. A quarterback can’t make epic plays without knowing where every single lineman and running back and receiver is. Same here, with you. My job is impossible unless every lieutenant and soldier and kitchen scut right on down the line is is doing their fucking job. Vibe me? Am I getting through? Well, guess what? Y’all betrayed me. Why? I didn’t build all this so you fucks could just take it from me. No way. You don’t own this. The second you do is the second you make it toxic. I’m reminded of the immortal words of that guy who said whoha in Any Given Sunday. [HE GOES ON TO QUOTE THE ENTIRE SPEECH. IT’S LIKE… REALLY LONG.] Yeah. That’s right. I memorized that whole speech. Took me a whole year. I also memorized the speeches from Hoosiers and Remember The Titans and Rocky IV and Cool Runnings and The Mighty Ducks and She’s The Man and High School Musical and Friday Night Lights, both the movie and the television series. So I know about inspiration. I’ll tell you this story. It’s something I didn’t understand at first but now I’m coming around to it. It’s a story my dad told me. There was this guy who used to make vases. I don’t know what they call that? A vaser? Maybe? No. That’s wrong. A sculptor. I guess that could be right. A potter? Maybe a potter? I wonder if that’s why the kid is named Harry Potter? Because he made magic. Like made it. What was I saying? Potter? The vase! Right. Those vases were beautiful things. And check this out… the guy would wrap and unfired vase in horse hair — then put it in his kiln. The horse hair would burn off and leave these black, charred scars. But to get the horse hair, the guy would have to pluck it straight from a stallion's tail. How baller is that? And every time he did, that stallion would buck. The vase-maker, vaser, potter — he was pretty good at dodging the kick, cause he knew it was coming. But more than once, the horse would get him. Knocking him in the face and shoulder. Nasty shit. He still had rolling shards of broken bone you could feel, where the horse shattered his clavicle. But Christ in a halo, it was worth the pain. Those vases, man. I know you think I’m a dumb jock, but I can appreciate a thing like that. Well, I look out at you all, and I think that’s what I have here. You’re the bucking horse. I’m the sculptor. And the beautiful vase is all this, Glendale High. Look what we have. But you fuckers broke the vase. And I’m not sure we can ever glue this thing back together. But I’m gonna try. I’m really gonna fucking try.