Broadcast begins with an image, in white, on back.  A stylized "II," the astrological sign for Gemini. There is a pause after this. Then:

Lights up, only slightly, on a dim room. The lighting comes from above, behind, and slightly below, in a three-point setup that obscures background entirely. Within the small area of this set there is a plain card table. On the edge of the table, audience right, in slight shadow, there is an ashtray, one cigarette sitting in it giving up a light smoke that curls under the light. In front of this is a half-empty shot of a liquid that looks like bourbon or whiskey. These may just be props.

The light above spotlights the person sitting behind the table. As you might expect, this is Gemini Man, in the singular. He is smoking from a second cigarette, and doesn't seem to acknowledge, for a moment, that the camera is now on. After a long casual pull, his motions change pace suddenly, and he twists the cigarette out, in the ashtray beside the one that’s still smoking. He stands, leaning forward on the table and bracing himself with his arms.

Another beat.

"For those of you that may have been wondering, this video is not a Wily Hour broadcast.  This video has been pre-recorded; if you bother trying to track us to the place where we're filming now by the time this hits air, it'll be a waste of your time. A copy of this video has been sent to the usual outlet, GNN, as well as by mail directly to the offices of the powerless, but still, technically, important, United Nations.

"Since this is no Wily Hour, you'll see nothing you'll find funny in this broadcast. But now and then even the world's best comedians believe it's time to break things down a little differently.

"There is, as one man's said often, a 'Time to get Serious.'"

He sits, and folds his hands.

"For you, citizens of the world, that time is now.

"It’s common knowledge that the robot called Proto Man—-or Blues, or Break Man, or whichever you happen to prefer—-was officially the first constructed android. That, of course, is physically true, but, when it comes to the cosmos, there are many of us that are far, far older.

"Two-hundred seventeen years ago, the greatest act of terrorism that mankind had yet ever witnessed was enacted upon the citizens of the United States of America."  At this, he raises his right hand, as if he's contemplating something by looking at it. But then he lowers it again.  "We don't think we have to explain it to you.  It was... an exercise, really, in duality.  You see... all of the best things... well, they come in twos." He flashes up two fingers at the camera. "But it took two-HUNDRED years..." and here his voice grows in intensity, "for that idea, itself, to be given form and flesh.  The immortal soul of the NEW WAR was created at that PRECISE moment: but it took quite a long time, and many, lesser acts, until we were given our own bodies, by which to act.

"We tell you this for context. Recognize that we-—my brother and I; he's so kind to be working camera for me at the moment—-are old men now. And in our age we swiftly become tired.

"In particular: we are tired of having our hard-earned winnings stolen from us. The nations of Africa, which were rightfully conquered. The nation of Japan, where we were ousted from land we LEGALLY acquired..." aside, "after a little renovation, mind you... Near-countless homes of our family's creation, the result of hardworking hands, demolished REPEATEDLY..." A little desperation here, and he clenches his left fist,
shutting his eyes: "Our precise, beautifully-calculated mechanizations...ruined within minutes not through cleverness or hard work or honest damn achievement, but because SOMEBODY out there had a bigger gun."

Pause for reflection. Then Gemini picks up the shot on the table, finishes it off by knocking it all the way back into his throat, then tosses it aside. Glass breaks off camera.

He goes off on a totally different tangent.

"Earlier this year, there were two explosions that occurred in the Chinese city of Hong Kong. The first such bomb was laced with a chemical agent later labeled as the Hong Kong Flu; it killed several dozen after the initial explosion before its spread was stopped with the aid of Neo Arcadian medicine. The second, larger explosion occurred weeks later, at the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. This blast was laced with a mutation of the
Sigma Virus, causing it to ruin all electronic equipment in the facility, and make raging criminals of any reploids who were over-exposed and left untreated. Because of the nature of these blasts it was naturally assumed that they were set by representatives of the Mavericks.

"We hereby confess in full to both attacks. These were weapon-tests, nothing more. Everyone's always looking for that next, bigger gun, and we’ve had to prod around in some pretty surprising places to go looking for it."

A pale, and twisted smile.

"Flash forward now to several nights ago, whereupon the internet-based anomaly known as 'Duo, Ee Ex Ee,' invaded a pirate broadcast, in order to warn the world that, potentially, a Doomsday weapon was in development. A massively destructive weapon, which, if it were to be used, might destroy one of the world's megacities... hell, even the world."

There is another pause as he looks at the table.... and then he plays with the cigarette he tossed aside earlier, twisting it in the ashtray so it throws up a bit of excess smoke.  He looks back at the camera.

"Guess what."

Another pause.

"Now, if we were YOU we wouldn't bet our money on a Robot Master trying to destroy the whole WORLD.  Far from that; we want to conquer it, right?  But, there are a few chunks of it that can be wiped off the map... no penalty to us.

"And here's the part that's easy for you.  All we want is what is already ours."

Then the inevitable demands.

"The united Nations of Africa will be returned to the leadership of Doctor Albert Wily. If they must be reconquered, then Repliforce should get in gear doing it. After all, if conquering Europe to line your own pockets is cricket, then it should be no problem to conquer Africa to save a few hundred-thousand lives.

"The nation of Japan, shall also be returned to the rulership of Doctor Albert Wily, as it is, so rightfully his, and you can’t do a good job of proving it isn't.

"That at least puts us all well back where we started, and then we can go about conquering the rest of the world after that point all on our own.

"You have until the start of next year to meet these demands, which, we feel, is perfectly reasonable of us. If they aren't met—-and we don't think they will be, mind you; you're all so defiant and clever and so much more intelligent than we Robot Master idiots are and you won't bend at any time for any man, isn't that right?"  He pounds a fist on the table. A cough. He then takes the opportunity to *FULL SCREEN CENSOR* he continues in a much more calm, sedate voice.  "If our demands are not met, there will be epic, life-ending disaster at a place of our choosing."

A pause, and a sigh. "Oh, we know. You think we won't do it. We aren't tall enough, or young enough, or we aren't wearing the right helmet.  There is no weapon, you say: or Vile has it, or Elpizo.  Gemini has NOTHING; he's riding coattails, taking advantage of panic and tragedy to throw a bluff."

He stands again.

"You have your warning, you have your tasks, and you have your deadline. You have the choice. Stop us if you THINK YOU CAN.  Ignore us if you think you're CLEVER. It's up to you, world... it's all up to you."

A pause for a moment. Then he makes a gesture across his neck, at the camera.

"Cut it."

Feed dies.