Thursday, December 02, 2004

Best Unfinished Screenplay EVER

At one point in film school, my buddy Justin Ott asked me to write a screenplay for his senior thesis. His only request was that it would be something way out there no one else had done. So I immediately began working on my kung fu rock opera. Three pages later, Justin wisely decided to write his own screenplay. But, for your amusement, here are those three pages:

BLACK







FRED (VO)


When my fish committed suicide, I really thought I hit rock bottom.







EXT. STREET. DAY



People walk around, some rather nervously. Every now and then they trip or fall as if pushed, or look as if someone punched them, though no one can be seen.







FRED (VO, CONT'D)


But then those damn commie Chinese had to finally go and listen to those damn stupid activists. They went and freed Tibet.







A MAN is brutally beaten by an invisible assailant.







FRED (VO, CONT'D)


And ain't it just like a commie to never mention the fact that Tibetans were all assholes, or that they could turn invisible. Damn invisible Tibetan sunsabiches. Without China holding them back, the freed Tibetans wreaked havoc around the world.







Another man, FRED, watches with mild interest. He's disheveled like a film noir detective turned homeless. His clothes might have once been designer, but now they're just a hodge-podge of wrinkles. A cigarette dangles from his lips.







FRED (VO, CONT'D)


I was used to gettin' my ass kicked from years at public school. Wear a Dungeons and Dragons shirt one day in second grade and it's like open season for ten years. As long as I had my love I'd be OK.







EXT. LIQUOR STORE. DAY



Fred looks at the neon sign with religious awe. This place is holy to him. He moves and speaks reverently.







FRED


Sweet luscious booze! Fill my existential void!







Fred walks in eagerly.



INT. FRED'S APT. DAY



Fred enters cradling a bag full of liquor. The apartment is small to the point of ridiculousness. He has a bed, a small TV, and a table. He sits on the bed and takes out the bottles of liquor. He smiles and for a moment just takes in his bounty. The table and the bottles begin to shimmy and even shake. Fred's eyes go wide in horror. ECU on his eyes as the sound of a bottle breaking is all we hear.



FRED


[livid]






NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!







ECU on his screaming mouth as another bottle goes.







FRED


NO OH GOD NO! TAKE ME INSTEAD!







He grabs the remaining bottles in his arms trying to protect them. He struggles against invisible Tibetans trying to open his arms. One begins punching Fred's face. He does his best to resist, but his arms fly open and he only saves one bottle from crashing to the floor. He is in anguish.







FRED


ARRRRRGH! DAMN SHAOLIN SHITHEADS! THAT'S MY BOOZE!







The Tibetan goes after the remaining bottle. Fred keeps a tight grip. He is determined to save his beer. His face is pure grit.







FRED (VO)


I could feel my fingers slipping. That beer was the last thing on this earth that I cared about, the last thing infused with any meaning or feeling. It was all I had left.







Sweat drips on his brow.







FRED (VO CONT'D)


That's when HE appeared, like some kind of appearing person.







In the doorway stands FACELESS KUNG FU PRIEST. FKFP wears a black flowing robe with a Catholic Priest's collar. On his face is a blank white mask, completely expressionless. A hood covers the rest of his head. A large sack is on his back. Fred sees him and stares, confusedly, while still struggling with the invisible Tibetan. FKFP enters the room and assumes a wicked martial arts stance. He kicks the unseen man and the fight is on.



In the ensuing hand-to-hand battle, FKFP's hands and feet move at extraordinary speed. He feints, he dodges, he blocks, he punches, he kicks. From time to time he appears to be on the receiving end of a blow, but he quickly recovers. After a while, he delivers a bigger punch and stops as his opponent falls to the ground. There is a tense moment as he hovers over the Tibetan, prodding the prone man with his foot. He then picks him up and tosses him out the door. Fred is astonished. FKFP exits while Fred's mouth stays open.



Fade to black.



INT. FRED'S APT. ANOTHER DAY



Fred smokes and drinks on his bed while watching the TV. The news is on.



VIDEO FOOTAGE:



INT. NEWS STUDIO. DAY



A stone-faced anchor sits at the desk and laughs fakely.



ANCHOR






HA HA HA HA HA HA! I guess that's ONE kitty cat that won't be climbing trees any more! HA HA HA HA HA!






5 Comments:

At 6:07 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Worst Part: Shaolin aren't Tibetan, you Mormon.
Best Part: The drunk guy is named Fred.

-f.

 
At 8:56 PM, Blogger Joe Rice said...

THEY ARE TOO! LIES FROM THE GOVERNMENT!

 
At 11:47 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Only in the land of wrong.

This entire blog is part of a vast media conspiracy.

-f.

 
At 6:17 PM, Blogger Joe Rice said...

I had to pay a lot of money to be a part of this conspiracy.

 
At 4:42 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Click here to learn more about audi performance

 

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