Scene – Lord Grantham, in breakfast tuxedo, wanders about the first floor of the house, squinting and covering his eyes. He looks for his wife, worried. Elegantly dressed servants and family members rush about, bewildered. A peculiar smoke and an awful odor permeate the manor.
Cora! What’s that awful smell?! Is that from the kitchen?
Mrs. Padmore, the cook, covering her head, runs out through the back door.
Mrs. Padmore! Mrs. – is that mustard gas?!
There’s a tremendous BOOM that rocks the house. Debris falls everywhere and blue crystals float about the air like snow.
My God! Was that an explosion?!
Lady Edith, Lady Crawley, and Lady Mary – all in elegant morningwear (except Lady Mary who wears elegant mourningwear) – rush in, panicked and cower behind furniture. They are quickly followed by two men in gas masks and yellow Tychem hazmat suits.
Daddy! I think we’re at war again!
Hazmat Man 1 raises his hands apologetically.
HAZMAT MAN 1
Sorry! Sorry! Does anyone have a phone I could borrow?
John Bates – Lord Grantham’s valet – rushes in brandishing fireplace tongs. He faces off with Hazmat Man 1. Lord Grantham hiding behind a priceless grecian statue calls to Bates.
Are these more friends of yours, Bates?!
We’ll know in a minute, milord!
Hazmat Man 2 goes over to the women hiding behind the furniture and holds his arms open to them excitedly.
HAZMAT MAN 2
Yo yo yo! swanky, turn-of-century bitches! ‘Sup!