A seven year old boy, KYLE, watches Dora in a small suburban home. His mom comes in from outside holding a few papers, a stunned look on her face
MOM: Kyle? I just got a letter from the federal government. It says that you’ve been chosen to learn karate at the national Dojo and then to fight in the international karate championship. Fight… to the death.
KYLE: But I just want to learn to paint!
MOM: There’s nothing I can do. Pack up your things, my darling.
KYLE: No, Mom!
MOM: The international Karate tournament is what we have now instead of wars! You know that...
KYLE: But why me?
MOM: The F.K.I. will be here soon to pick you up. Hug me one last time?
They hug. Kyle weeps, knowing he will never see his mom again unless he returns a champion, having made the United States the “Karate Country King.”
KYLE: I’ll miss you so much, Mom.
MOM: I’ll miss you too, son. And remember: go for the eyes.
KYLE: I'm sorry?
MOM: GO....FOR.... THE.... EYES.
KYLE: I'm sorry?
MOM: GO....FOR.... THE.... EYES.
In montage, F.K.I. agents arrive and place Kyle in the back of a luxurious stretch ambulance, which travels across the country over the course of several days. Early on, Kyle is handed a portable DVD player and a DVD entitled “Karate: The Basics.” He doesn’t want to watch it at first, but eventually he’s transfixed by the action. Finally, Kyle arrives at the massive US Karate training institute in Lubbock, TX. It is enormous— bigger than the white house and the capitol building put together— and filled with every karate training device the eggheads at the pentagon could dream up. Kyle is shown to his small bedroom, which is the only bedroom in the building. Kyle carefully tacks up a photo of his mom before he settles in for his first sleep in days.
The next morning, a total stranger wakes KYLE up by throwing a bucket of water in his face. This stranger is STASH LUPENS, the U.S. national karate instructor and former senator.
STASH: Kyle wake up!
KYLE: Wha??
STASH: WAKE UP! IT’S DAY NUMBER ONE! TRAINING STARTS NOW!
KYLE: Who are you?
STASH: My name is Stash Lupens, and from here on out I am your everything! I am your teacher, your sensei, your cook. I am your dad, and I definitely...
Stash pulls Kyle’s picture of his mother off the wall.
STASH: ...am your mother.
He tears the picture in half.
STASH: The international Karate championship is less than four years away, and that means I’ve got less than four years to train you into the best karate fighter on the planet. There’s no time to waste.
Kyle down looks at the torn photo of his mother.
STASH: Kyle! You’ve just been given the most important job in America. And I hope to God you’re bad enough to go the distance.
KYLE: What if I say no?
STASH: America loses by forfeit. And I’ll be executed....But you won’t say no. Why? Because that’s not what your mom would want.
Kyle takes a moment to think about this. That son of a bitch Stash is right.
KYLE: Let’s do it.
Moments later KYLE and STASH walk through the beautiful and empty hallways, passing huge all-white padded rooms and endless US flags.
STASH: The US Karate training institute is your home now. It’s got every type of gym a champion could need, from this punching gym—
Stash points out a giant room perfectly outfitted for making someone a great puncher.
STASH: to this kicking gym…
They pass a doorway leading into another enormous gym, this one designed to make someone incredible at kicking.
STASH: there’s even a nunchaku gym—
He points to a heavily locked and alarmed door, festooned with DANGER: NO ADMITTANCE BY ORDER OF THE US ARMED FORCES COMMITTEE signs.
STASH: but you’re years away from going in there. First things first: the chill out room.
Stash leads Kyle into a room filled with bean bag chairs, video games, snacks etc. It looks fun.
STASH: Every morning you’ll spend a few hours here just having fun.
KYLE: Oh wow! I want to play this game first.
STASH smiles as Kyle runs up to an arcade cabinet— “MARTIAL WARRIORS HIT SQUAD: OPERATION GUTS.” Kyle grabs the controls, but realizes the game costs money.
KYLE: Stash? Can I borrow a quarter?
No response.
KYLE
Stash?
Kyle turns to find an empty room. Stash is gone. With a hiss, a dozen panels in the walls slide instantly upward, and 30 kids in white karate robes stream out of the walls screaming for blood. They head straight for Kyle.
KYLE
No! I don’t know karate yet!
Kyle tries to get himself into some kind of karate stance he remembers from the DVD. It holds off the horde for a moment, but then another kid steps easily into Kyle's guard and karate chops him in the stomach. Another hacks at his back. Kyle takes a chop to his arm and goes down to the padded floor. A scruffy kid gets on top of him and starts raining blows onto Kyle's face, easily avoiding Kyle’s pathetic defensive blows. He gets close and whispers.
SCRUFFY KID: I gotta do this. It’s for America.
KYLE: I get it.
The blows continue, the rest of the young karate masters in a circle cheering them on. Suddenly Kyle has a vision— it’s his mom’s voice. Time slows as we hear but don’t see her.
MOM (OS): Kyle… go for the eyes.
Kyle’s face lights up as he remembers his mom’s incredible advice. Go for the eyes.
KYLE (to scruffy kid): I get it.. but I don’t have to like it!
He goes for scruffy kids eyes, this thumbs held out like eye daggers.
SCRUFFY KID: AH! He’s going for my eyes!
Scruffy leaps away from Kyle, terrified. The rest of the kids scatter as Kyle gets to his feet and adopts a confident karate stance.
KYLE: I’ll do it! I’ll go for your eyes!
STASH: ENOUGH!
Everyone freezes in their tracks.
STASH: Trainers dismissed. Trainee, to me.
All the kids vanish back into the walls. Kyle stands warily in front of STASH. Kyle's face is bloody and swollen, but he’s proud of himself for surviving.
STASH: Lesson one. At this dojo, there is no time for fun. We train! And if we’re lucky, we sleep.
KYLE: I beat them all.
STASH: Lesson two. According to international karate rules, you can’t gouge anyone’s eyes.
KYLE: But my mom said--
STASH: I’M YOUR MOM NOW! Or didn’t I make that clear?
Kyle is devasted.
STASH: Hit the showers and clean yourself up. You look like shit.
KYLE: Yes sensei.
Kyle starts to walk back to the hallway.
STASH: And Kyle? Meet me in the elbowing people gym in twenty minutes. If you even know what elbowing people is!
KYLE: Yes sensei.
Kyle turns the corner, tears in his eyes.
STASH: (under his breath) Nice work, kid. And just think how good you'll be when I tell you gouging out eyes ISN'T against the rules.
22 comments:
Hey Steeb,
Thanks for this. I find it very inspiring, and it's brought me to create a martial arts film of my own. Read on, won't you?
Title:
GUNKWONDO: TAKE IT TO THE LIMIT (Potential Sequel Title: GUNKWONDO: TAKE IT TO TWO THE LIMIT TOO)
Scene: A private dojo, filled with children, guns, and moxy. One boy, CYLE, stands alone in the corner, obviously new to the dojo and looking out of place.
CYLE: I've just got to be the best! (loads AK-47)
SLASH: Listen, kid. You don't start as the best. Your first class, you start as a white belt with the rest of the 4-year-olds. Now get over there before you get shot
(CYLE shoots SLASH in the leg)
SLASH: God dammit, kid! You fuckin' shot me! Somebody get me a doctor before I bleed out!
(a team of paramedics get up and begin attending to SLASH. CYLE watches nervously, as SLASH pulls out his sidearm)
SLASH: Hey kid?
CYLE: Yes, sensei?
SLASH: You're ready for the big time!
(SLASH tosses CYLE a black belt as well as a revolver with a fancy handle)
SLASH: Use it well, kid!
CYLE: Is it snack time yet? My mommy said I could have juice.
SLASH: (through teeth clenched in pain) Get this kid some fuckin' juice!
HEY MARCIA LOVE YOUR SCREENPLAY. TOP POINTS FOR ORIGINALITY AND FOR STEALING MY IDEA OF GUN-FU, THE ANCIENT ART OF USING A GUN TO SHOOT PEOPLE. YES, DEVELOPED THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO BY THE SHOOT MONKS OF OLD QUAN POWKI, GUN-FU MAKES ANY SCREENPLAY "POP."
IN MY OPINION, EVERY CHARACTER IN EVERY SCREENPLAY SHOULD CARRY A GUN AND EVERY SCREENPLAY SHOULD END IN A BLOODBATH.
STEEB
Hey Steeb,
This is Tammy again. I'm sorry I thought you were Reese earlier. Now that I know your screenplays aren't attacks on me, I really appreciate the creativity. Since you seem to welcome screenplay ideas in your comments, I actually have one I've been sitting on for awhile now. It's another spin off of Bruce Almighty, but this one centers around the dog. If you remember the movie, the dog scene really was the scene-stealer, as it made everybody laugh when Bruce used his God-powers to make his dog toilet-trained and able to read the newspaper.
The movie would start by showing Sam-the-dog back on the toilet (A-gain!), reading the newspaper. Sam would think to himself (using a celebrity voice-over) something like "Bow-wow. The world sure opened up for me once I became smart and met the substitute God."
And then we'd find out that Sam had maybe made a fortune or something telling dog food companies and pet toy companies which things dogs like. Sam is this wealthy dog who can poop on the toilet, but you know what? He's lonely. There aren't any other dogs that can read and are toilet-trained, and he feels like an outcast among his peers.
So obvs, Sam the dog wants Bruce Almighty to be God again, so that he can make more smart toilet dogs. "Why doesn't the Morgan Freeman God make ALL dogs smart and toilet-trained, if that's something He can do?" Sam thinks while he barks at heaven from the toilet.
Meanwhile, TheReese McMean, an evil corporate stooge, is trying to dog-nap Sam so that she can use his dog knowledge and get rich even though she doesn't deserve to get rich. Sam keeps tricking her though, with traps like they used in Home Alone, and probably there would be a scene where her head gets dunked in a toilet.
BUT...my favorite part is the surprise Flowers-for-Algernon tragedy. Bruce Almighty DOES get to be substitute God again but with His past experience He knows He can't just make all dogs smart and toilet-trained because they might compete for human jobs and unemployment would take a rocket dive upwards. He doesn't want to start that kind of anarchy, so, with tears in His eyes and asking His own forgiveness, Bruce instead makes Sam the dog just like a regular dog again. You can tell it works because just before it cuts to credits, the very last scene is Sam taking a dump on the carpet, a look of confusion mixed with doggy sadness on his face. He remembers something is lost, but he can't quite place what it is.
Hey what about an emoji movie? They're really big right now and I've even seen shops selling little stuffed emoji's. I think that right now, 4/27/2016, McDonald's is evening giving them out as Happy Meal Prizes! Anyway, here's my take on it:
EMOJI THE MOVE-JI: A FLICKER-JI IN THE DARK-JI
Smiling Poop Emoji: This smile, plastered onto my face, masks my true feelings but is betrayed by the stink of my essence. I am a rude and tasteless joke; my existence is trivial.
Emoji With Dollar Sign Eyes and a Dollar Bill Tongue: Hey hey hey, Smiling Poop Emoji! Don't be that way! Kids love you, and I can make you a star! Imagine! Fame and fortune, yours for the taking! Fortune and fame!
Smiling Poop Emoji: Me? A Smiling Poop Emoji? Really?
Emoji With Dollar Sign Eyes and a Dollar Bill Tongue: Really! Ca-Ching!
Two Hands High-Fiving Emoji: Me!
Two Girls Dancing In Black Leotards With Matching Bunny Ears Emoji: Smiling Poop Emoji? Don't believe Emoji With Dollar Sign Eyes and a Dollar Bill Tongue. He'll exploit you like he exploited us. We were stars - loved by the world, but now we're an afterthought and Emoji With Dollar Sign Eyes and a Dollar Bill Tongue reaped all the financial rewards. We were left with next to nothing. We are broke, destitute, and forgotten
Smiling Poop Emoji: This makes me feel like a combination of my friends Pensive Emoji With Its Hand On Its Chin and Emoji That is Crying With Tears Streaming Down its Face With its Mouth Open!
Emoji of Cat Making a Kissy Face with Blushing Cheeks: Meow! I know what you mean, Smiling Poop Emoji. I know what you mean.
Smiling Poop Emoji: Screw the haters. I'm going to give fame and fortune a try!
Emoji With Dollar Sign Eyes and a Dollar Bill Tongue: Good call, my friend. You're gonna be a star! Let's celebrate with good drinks and good food! Your treat!
Emoji of Champagne With The Cork Coming Out and Emoji of Tempura Fried Shrimp: Us!
Smiling Poop Emoji: (To himself) I hope I don't get my heart broken...
TAMMY!
I COULD NOT BE HAPPIER THAT YOU HAVE BEEN DRAWN INTO THE EXCITING WORLD OF WRITING SCREENPLAYS. AS YOU MAY OR MAY NOT KNOW, I WELCOME SCREENPLAYS IN MY COMMENTS. AND I TOOK EXTRA SPECIAL CARE READING YOUR SUGGESTION, WHICH IS ABOUT A MAGIC DOG THAT LOVES TO READ IN THE BATHROOM IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY.
I LOVE IT!
BUT IF I COULD SUGGEST ONE CHANGE: PEOPLE HATE DOGS NOW AND ARE MORE INTO POT BELLY PIGS. TO MAKE YOUR POT-BELLIED PIG MOVIE, IT WOULD BE A SIMPLE MATTER OF BUYING THE RIGHTS TO AND ALL EXTANT COPIES OF BRUCE ALMIGHTY AND DIGITALLY "SWITCHING OUT" THE DOG WITH A CUTESIE POT-BELLIED PIG.
NOW WE'VE GOT SUCCESS ON OUR HANDS.
WILMER VALDEROMO-- I LIKED YOUR PLAN FOR A MOVIE STARRING EMOJIS SO MUCH THAT I WROTE MY OWN, THEN TORE IT UP BECAUSE YOURS WAS BETTER!
THAT SAID, I THINK YOUR MOVIE WILL WORK BEST NOT AS A MOVIE, BUT AS A COMMERCIAL FOR HUGE NOVELTY BARS OF SOAP YOU CAN BUY AT THEME PARKS AND NATIONAL MONUMENTS, WHICH IS AN IDEA I HAD.
SOMETHING LIKE...
Emoji of Champagne With The Cork Coming Out and Emoji of Tempura Fried Shrimp: I LOVE THIS GIANT NOVELTY BAR OF SOAP THAT SAYS SIX FLAGS ON IT.
George Clooney: I LOVE IT TOO BECAUSE IT IS A GREAT GIFT FOR FRIENDS AND FAMILY ALIKE.
GET BACK TO ME WITH THOSE CHANGES ASAP. THANKS, STEEB
Hey Steeb,
Check it, I have another idea
BURNING TWICE AS BRIGHT
It's a dawn of a new age. People realize that the wind isn't just some bullshit thing, it's actually sun breath because the sun is alive and breathes the vacuum of space. While scientists have not confirmed this, Johnny Mason-Dixon had an angel tell him this in a dream his friend told him about. He knows it's true. But how is he going to finance a space team to harness the power of the sun breath so that they can finance another space team to build a spaceship that can A: Go to the sun and B: Not even be a little melted by it.
Because Johnny Mason-Dixon knows that the sun is alive, and he knows that if it's alive, then it has to be lonely. Lonely like Johnny Mason-Dixon is after his friends stopped talking to him because his face made them uncomfortable after he got his questionable and, if seen out-of-context, racist tattoos?
So Johnny Mason-Dixon understands what it's like if people think you're nothing but hot wind. But Johnny Mason-Dixon also knows what it's like to need somebody. To need somebody bad. But how is Johnny Mason-Dixon also going to finance a space team to travel to a far-out star and then also move that star back to our sun so that it won't be lonely in the process? And could Johnny Mason-Dixon meet any friends who are like-minded on what his face tattoos so clearly portray? It'll take all of our knowledge, all of our moxy, and the most ambitious Kickstarter the world has ever seen, but Johnny Mason-Dixon is NOT about to give up.
WILMER YOU DID IT AGAIN-- THIS IS A GREAT IDEA. It's about time we realized the sun is lonely for friends and alive! BUT THAT SAID: I'm not sure if you want to go with the name Johnny Mason-Dixon. That name, although cool, will conjure images of the civil war, and that's already a great movie starring Robert Downey Jr. and Captain America. I loved it, but why was spiderman there? Yuck.
Can I recommend a more powerful name? How about something like Rich Bullwounds or Francesca Duckstamp? Now we've got success on our hands!
I've taken the liberty of forwarding your script treatment (with names changed) to Neil deGrasse Tyson and some people I know who live near kickstarter's offices. Let's hope I hear back soon.
STEEB
I feel like my head is on fire. My eyes are rolling back into my head, my mouth is agape, and I just feel burning, burning, like my head is charred, cracked, and smoking. It's not real, and I know that; it's just a feeling I get sometimes. People say I'm fine and it's crazy and see a doctor if I need to. Okay. But that doesn't make the pain less real, though. And when I close my eyes each night, trying to sleep, trying so hard to drift into dreamlessness, I can picture my scalp bubbling with blisters before finally igniting. I've never screamed because of this. Not yet. I just go to a place where the fire has no power over me. So, with this in mind, I've got just the first bit of a screenplay I'm writing about two penguins that live on an iceberg.
Scene: Daytime. Two penguins are speaking on an iceberg adrift in Antarctica.
Tub-tub: Boy, Bo-ro! It sure is chilly willy out here!
Bo-ro: I know! Why, I feel like it's getting colder each day, Tub-tub! Just now, I was thinking that my head is so, so cold that I kind of feel like every particle of moisture is a little dagger slicing off another bit of my scalp. Or it's almost like my head is covered in water that is slowly freezing from the neck up, encasing my skull in a solid, cloudy, ice-sphere. It's funny, but sometimes, at night, I think that the feathers on my head are frozen needles, shooting emptiness and death into my brain. They needles don't numb me, though - somehow they awaken me to the pain and unforgiving cold. If I close my eyes, I can picture the skin under my feathers go first blue and then black with a merciless frostbite, until there's nothing for my head to do but crack off from the neck and drop, frozen, to the ground.
Tub-tub: I know what you mean. Gee, I sure wish they made sweaters for penguins, Bo-Ro. I could use one right about now.
Bo-Ro: Yes. Or hats.
Picture this: You're in a spaceship and it's shooting to Gods (all female) knows where. Maybe the sun, maybe another universe, maybe inside a human-kind created black hole. It turns out to be a combination of the last two, and you're in a ship that can negate gravity so you don't turn into a spaghetti ship when you get to the black hole. Instead, you go through the black hole, dripping in space-time, and you emerge into the Universe Part II. And let me say: holy shit is it different. Instead of stars everywhere, there these like giant square burning things that are even more fuel efficient and don't have harmful UV rays. Ain't nobody getting skin-cancer from these things. Plus, all of space II is a comfortable 75 degrees, making it super prime-time for life potential. When you look around, there's life everywhere, even in space, which by the way, is filled with oxygen instead of the dirty vacuum in the home universe. So it seems like everything is super great here, but then you find out that Universe Part II is really where life began, but human-kind was banished from Universe Part II because of, I don't know, guns or stealing or something and we are NOT welcome back. Imagine seeing all this splendor in Universe Part II and then having to tuck your metaphorical tail between your legs and having to go right on back to Universe Part I. Now you know what you're missing out on. Now you know that the Universe doesn't have to be as cold and desolate as it is, and you're really in some kind of cast-off punishment Universe for punks. Could you tell the rest of mankind? Would you be so cruel as to let them know the sweetness they're missing? Credits.
So here's my pitch: A boy has a belt that has been surgically attached to him. Seems like a normal belt, but the buckle special somehow. Perhaps the buckle is a giant squid eye. Whatever the buckle, every time this boy looks at the belt, the next person he looks at dies. Every day he wakes up, with one thought in his head: "I am NOT going to look at the belt today!" But maybe he sees it in the mirror, or maybe e catches a glimpse of it while tying his shoes or going to the bathroom. It's the source of nothing but misery for him, but he just can't get rid of the belt. He's moved away from those he cares about, and he's on the run from the police, who have long since realized that the common factor between these brutal murders is that first, the boy has seen these people and second, he saw them after looking at his belt. But the police cannot catch him for he is fast. A bulletin goes out: "For gods sake, boy, STOP looking at that belt!" But it seems so much easier than it really is. As the movie goes on, we learn that the boy was previously beaten with the belt, and that during this time he learned to associate violence with it. Since then, he SUPER feels like killing people after seeing it. While telling his story to a homeless man, the homeless man asks him, "Hey, if you've seen yourself in mirrors, why haven't you killed yourself?" This question raises all sorts of questions for the boy, and it makes the boy so angry that he looks at his belt so that he can kill the homeless man. In the Epilogue, we see the boy in Las Vegas, wearing a robe that covers the belt. Sometimes, the obvious solution isn't so obvious if you don't already own a bathrobe. It is implied that he won one in Las Vegas.
Here's an idea. A movie that just shows the best fireworks. Really cool fireworks, but not CGI (maybe some). People love fireworks, and they'd be really cool with surround sound and 3D. I could watch fireworks for hours. I thought about this last 4th of July but I hadn't really fleshed it out until now.
Allow ME to contribute:
A guy and a girl are trudging through a swamp. It's grimy, it's gross, and they're both pretty depressed about it. Suddenly the guy says something along the lines of exactly, "Shit, I'm pretty sure I just stepped on a horse underneath all this swamp!"
Maybe because they think it's made of gold, the guy and the girl really work to dig this horse out of the swamp. Hours later, and they've finally got it. The swamp has preserved the horse, to a degree, but it clearly died a long time ago.
The guy stares at the horse for awhile, like he should be remembering something, and then it finally hits him. "Motherfuck! Mother...fuck. This is Artax! He used to be my horse back when I did quests and shit! I forgot all about this little motherfucker!" The girl looks at the guy like she's looking for a sign on how she should react. "Motherfuck!" she says.
The guy, amazed at the coincidence, shakes his head in wonder. "Oh man. I was SO upset when he sank here. I was all, "NOOO! My best friend, a fucking horse, got so sad he sunk into the swamp and died! My poor heart! Now whatever shall I do?" The guy thinks for a moment and laughs. "I guess not too sad though. Otherwise I would have sank into the swamp myself. Guess I kept it real even then!" The girl looks at him, and then the horse, and then back at him. It is quite clear that there is going to be some swamp sex happening in the very near future. From the distance, a giant perv of a turtle watches and sneezes.
Look, I'm not going to lie. I'm a famous screenwriter and I came here intending to steal your ideas and use them as my own. I currently have Hollywood at my fingertips, and each one of my MULTI-Million dollar scripts has been a box-office BINGO/UNBEATABLE ROYAL FLUSH. I'm the real deal, and I know a winning screenplay when I see it.
So I came here to take from you. And I might. I still might. But I also wanted to give you some advice, Steeb: Don't be so naive. You're walking through these woods, you come across a house made of candy house and owned by a witch, and you think she's just going to let you eat her house?! Think! She lives there! That's her home! People aren't in it for you, cause every candy house has a furnace used for cooking up tasty kids! I mean, like it or not, that's just the way the world works! And if you don't come to that candy house with an axe, you come there as wood to be chopped, baby. What I'm saying is: Know the game! Hollywood, Hollywood! If you're a goose laying golden eggs, sure, you'll seem like the hot new thing and everybody will want you. But they won't want you for you, son. They want you for your children - the poor unhatched goslings trapped in their golden prison! You stop laying those eggs and face the facts: you're gonna get cooked!
Anyways, just my two cents. I'm going to look through your site and take anything that interests me.
It's like returning to an empty home and announcing yourself, only to hear echos of echos. The house you built together, that you lived in and dirtied and cleaned together...what is it's purpose now? It was always just a frame for your memories, but now...still a frame, but the old memories are tainted and the new ones best forgotten. Your mind just circles the word "Alone" over and over again, like a crescendo drowning all other thoughts until it's all that you are. If you could forget - if you could forget what it was like before...then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But you can't, and you remember so, so clearly, what it could be, what it was. So you close your eyes, and breathe in, trying to reset, trying push the memories aside, just to see if there's a way out. But it's just darkness, just emptiness, just ruin. And THIS is what it's like to kiss the great vampire Tristan, in my movie I want to make called Blue Collar Vampires in a White Collar World.
I picture this movie about a guy whose fingers won't stop growing. And even though they grow slowly, every day they're just a tiny bit longer. And you know, that kind of thing adds up in a hurry!
Finger Man: Yep. 1 millimeter longer today. Ugh! These gloves don't fit at all, and they were too big just 1 month ago!
Dad: Yep. Can you palm a basketball?
Finger Man: Yeah, I think.
Dad: No, don't think. Just do it.
(And then in a later part)
Finger Man: You know it wouldn't be so bad if my palms were getting bigger too. I can't even make a fist!
Dad: Well what do you need a fist for?! Don't be punching people, Finger Man! Never! Slapping is your thing now - slapping.
Finger Man: I know, I know. Slapping, like you said. Wow, my fingers are C-O-L-D cold!
Dad: I want you to practice playing the piano from really far away.
Finger Man: Ok.
Title: Topicalia
Jam Piston: Hello. My name is Jam Piston, and I'm going to be president of the United States of America, so help me the God.
Priscilla Lace: Hmmm....Well, not if I have anything to say about it, because I'm going to be president instead of you. My name is Priscilla Lace, B-T-W.
Moderator: Nice to meet both of you, and thank you for gathering here. So... you both would like to be president?
Both: Mmmm-hmmmm.
Moderator: I see. Well, I regret to inform you that as neither one of you were born in the United States, you're both automatically disqualified from holding this office.
Jam Piston: That's ridiculous! I've got a birth certificate and a lifetime of memories proving otherwise! I was born in New York City!
Priscilla Lace: And I was born in Chicago! I've got a birth certificate too!
Moderator: False, for both of you, though I do not believe either of you know you are lying. Jam Piston, you were not born in New York. Priscilla Lace, you were not born in Chicago. Rather, you were both born and - even now - are currently living in a pod of goo that exists in the Republic of Chimera. What you consider to be aliens leave you in a perpetual simulation and feed off of your thoughts and emotions. In reality, what you are experiencing now is a simulation not dissimilar to that in the first Matrix movie.
Priscilla Lace: That's crazy!
Jam Piston: No...no, it all makes sense...
Priscilla Lace: And you? Are you in the simulation too?
Moderator: Yes. The gypsy woman told me that just about everyone is part of this simulation, and there really is no escape.
Jam Piston: Well if there's no escape, it doesn't matter. I'm still running for president of the United States.
Priscilla Lace: What do you mean it doesn't matter?! If I'm encapsulated in a vat of goo, with every though providing sustenance to unknown aliens, that means everything!
Moderator: So...you'll do it?
Priscilla Lace: Yes. Yes I will. I'm running for President of the Republic of Chimera.
Jam Piston: Oh! Oh yeah, me too!
ANONYMOUS: NORMALLY I NEVER RESPOND TO ANONYMOUS COMMENTS ON MY BLOG BECAUSE HEY: ANONYMOUS MEANS YOU CAN SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT! BUT IN THIS CASE I HAD TO RESPOND AND WHY? BECAUSE OF YOUR MOVIE IDEA ABOUT SOME MUD BUDDIES WHO FIND ARTAX, THE HORSE FROM THE NEVERENDING STORY, THE FILM.
ARTAX, NO! IS WHAT ATREYU SAID, BUT I SAY ANONYMOUS, YES! TO THIS GREAT FILM IDEA.
I ONLY SEE ONE FLAW IN YOUR PLAN: HOW DO WEGET A DEAD HORSE THAT LIVES UP TO THE ARTAX NAME? IF ONLY WESTWORLD, THE TV SHOW, WAS REAL-- THEN WE COULD HAVE THEM MAKE US AN ARTAX AND WE COULD KILL IT AGAIN, EVERYDAY, IN A FUN MURDER THEME PARK. AND WE COULD MEET JAMES MARSDEN! NOW WE'VE GOT SUCCESS ON OUR HANDS!
GOOD WORK AND KEEP WRITING ANONYMOUS!!!!
STEEB
RICH PLANKTON: I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR IDEA ABOUT A MOVIE THAT IS JUST FIREWORKS. IT'S GOT THE KIND OF ADRENALACTION-- A TERM I INVENTED--THAT AUDIENCES WANT AND NEED MORE THAN THEY WANT AND NEED THEIR OWN LOVED ONES AND OXYGEN!!
AND WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT WE'D FIND A GREAT IDEA FOR A MOVIE IN THE LAST PLACE WE'D LOOK: UP IN THE NIGHT SKY.
I LOVE IT!
THAT SAID CAN I RECOMMEND YOU MAKE ONE SMALL ADDITION TO YOUR IDEA-- INSTEAD OF THERE BEING JUST FIREWORKS, ADD A HUGE CROWD OF ALIENS (LIKE IN MEN IN BLACK, THE FILM) WATCHING THE FIREWORKS AND SAYING "AMERICA IS THE BEST." AND THEN ZOOM OUT-- THE ALIENS ARE REALLY HUMANS IN HALLOWEEN COSTUMES AND NOW THE FOURTH OF JULY IS ANOTHER GREAT HOLIDAY YOU CAN WEAR HALLOWEEN COSTUMES AT!!!! I JUST INVESTED IN A HALLOWEEN COSTUME COMPANY AND I'VE LOST A GREAT DEAL OF MONEY IN THOSE STOCKS. MAKING PEOPLE THINK THEY ALSO NEED HALLOWEEN COSTUMES IN JULY WOULD REALLY HELP ME OUT FINANCIALLY!
GET BACK TO ME WITH THOSE CHANGES, AND THANKS!
STEEB
ANONYMOUS! BUT A DIFFERENT ONE I ASSUME!!!
DO NOT YOU DARE go through this blog and just take all my great screenplay ideas! I have, in many cases LITERALLY, printed out EVERY SINGLE PAGE OF THIS BLOG AND MAILED IT TO MYSELF AND NOT OPENED THE ENVELOPE WHICH IS PROOF THAT THESE IDEAS ARE MINE, and unless you like talking to a REAL LAWYER I would hire, you'll keep your grubby mitts off this TREASURE TROVE of HOLLYWOOD READY GENIUS IDEAS!!!!!!!
This situation is NOTHING like HANSEL AND GRETEL: There is no "CANDY HOUSE" full of "A WITCH" and the only "TRAIL OF CRUMBS" is one leading RIGHT TO YOU, you CRUMBBUM.
I HEREBY FORBID YOU LEGALLY FROM EVEN READING THIS BLOG STARTING NOW! AND SO IF YOU'RE READING THIS HERE THEN MR. YOU ARE IN VIOLATION AND THE COPS ARE ON THEIR WAY. STOP READING IT!
I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING NICE I SAID ABOUT YOUR ARTAX FUCK MOVIE!!!!
STEEB
RUTH MARKLY-- WOW THAT'S THE BEST "ELEVATOR" PITCH FOR A MOVIE I HAVE EVER READ, AND I ONCE READ A BOOK CALLED "10,000 ELEVATOR PITCHES YOU CAN'T AFFORD NOT TO READ IF YOU ARE A TOP HOLLYWOOD PRODUCER" THAT I WROTE MYSELF. THE GREAT THING YOU'VE HIT ON HERE IS THE EXCITING IDEA THAT LONELINESS INFECTS US ALL LIKE A TERRIBLE DISEASE WE CAN'T ESCAPE. WE ALL FIND OURSELVES IN A LABYRINTHINE CAVE OF MISERY AND PAIN!!! IT'S COLD AND WE'LL DIE HERE, AND THAT, MY FRIEND, IS WHY WE LOVE KISSING AND VAMPIRES!!! IT'S THE HUMAN CONNECTION!
THAT SAID, YOUR MOVIE WILL NEVER GET MADE. UNFORTUNATELY HOLLYWOOD IS "OVER" MOVIES ABOUT OUR VAMPIRIC FRIENDS, AS WITNESSED BY THE TOTAL LACK OF REGARD MY RECENT SCREENPLAY "MOUNT FANGMORE" (A FASCINATING LOOK AT IF MT. RUSHMORE WAS BITTEN BY A VAMPIRE) RECEIVED FROM ALL THE MAJOR STUDIOS. AND BLADE 4 CAN'T GET GREENLIT TO SAVE A LIFE! I KNOW BECAUSE I WROTE A SCRIPT FOR BLADE 4 AND THE LIFE IN QUESTION WAS THAT OF MY PARROT GILLIGAN. I MISS HIM!
I THINK YOUR BEST BET WOULD BE TO TAKE YOUR PITCH AND SWITCH OUT THE "VAMPIRE"-TRISTAN I BELIEVE HIS NAME WAS-- AND CHANGE IT OUT FOR WHAT I THINK IS HOLLYWOOD'S NEXT OBSESSION: PAINTINGS COME TO LIFE!!!
RYERS! YOUR MOVIE WOULD NEVER WORK, SINCE WHAT ACTOR WOULD WANT TO BE SHOWN ON SCREEN WITH EXTRA LONG FINGERS! GLAD I COULD HELP!
STEEB
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