Monday, December 17, 2007

A Bad Year Ends

One dude moved out and the other is about to do the same. Meanwhile, one dude moved in and I’m supposed to meet-&-greet a prospective female roommate (from what I understand, she does not have four arms or the voice of Jason Statham, as per previous comments). So two new roommates will make things feel a lot different, that’s for sure. By the way, one guy took his router with him, so once again I can’t use the internet at the house.

I’m between jobs still, which also certainly adds to the feeling of change on the wind. I just don’t know what to do or where to do it. It seems like this is the time to pick a serious direction and go with it, but it’s easier said than done. I might be stuck for a while longer. But I’m at least opening myself up to the possibility of finding opportunities in other cities.

I’ve failed every single short-term goal I had set for myself. I had made Christmas a “deadline” of sorts for several minor accomplishments, and every single one has crumbled. To be fair, I would have been on track if I still had my job and if Finale wasn’t a punk. So it feels pretty bad to (once again) fall short of my expectations for myself in the short-term.

Speaking of Finale problems, I finally figured it out. Back when I was screwing around with some Giga Fonts to try to get Volition to work, I had changed something and forgot about it. I finally traced the problem back to that one little bastard of a setting and had to call a former classmate to ask how to reconfigure my crap. Well, I can use Finale again properly now. It’s about time, too. I already have several new ideas, but I’m not going to talk about them because then you’ll just nag me later. Get off my back, I’m getting work done.

However, my laptop keeps filling up, which is both sad and scary. So I have started deleting files that are less than vital. I threw out about half of my vast amount of pictures from Truman, and I plan to do the same with BG next. I still have the photos on CD somewhere, after all. It’s amazing how many pictures I have of Steve “Canada” drinking beer. At an average of 1 MB per photo, I’ve cleared out a lot of old junk from storage, making space for new Logic projects and such. Photo albums take up a lot of space, man. It’s nice to have a slideshow screensaver, but so many pictures are actually redundant, poorly developed, poorly shot, or just evoke unpleasant memories. They are the first to go.

You’re next, First Year At Bowling Green. You’d better pray you have enough fond memories to save… or I will delete the whole folder of you!

I haven’t seen my Life Groupies since the wedding, and I don’t feel that sorry. As you can gather from earlier posts, I’m tired of expecting more from a community that gets along just fine without me. They go back farther than I do with each other and they aren’t that active in my life on a daily basis, so they’ll probably never be what I have been trying to get them to be. In a way, I’ve turned my back on my friends, you could say. Yeah, you could say that. If you want to be a dick about it. The way I see it is, I’m just looking in a new direction because I’m tired of being left out or let down by the same people. Nothing against them or anything… it’s just circumstance, I suppose. Like how I was the only person not to get the memo about the Christmas party being cancelled due to bad roads, bought my stuff to bring to the party, and very cautiously drove all the way out to Olathe only to discover an empty house. Thanks. That’s not as bad as the wedding reception fiasco, but thanks. It’s like when Charlie Brown tries to kick the football… and every time Lucy pulls it away at the last second and I fall flat on my back.

Also, I haven’t been able to go to karate this month. At first, it was a matter of being screwed over by my deadbeat roommates and having to skip class to do their work. Then I realized they were both leaving in the middle of the month, so I might have to be “on” instead of go train for another week. Then I lost my job. I realized the last couple weeks would be vacation and therefore no class, therefore why pay a month’s fee if I’d only be able to go to two or three classes, tops? I talked to my sensei and explained that I’d just have to come back in January. So that’s one more way I feel isolated and forestalled now. Also, I think the karate club Christmas party happened without me… and I think the Life Group Christmas party was rescheduled and passed by, too… so I just missed both Christmas parties?

2007 has been completely vicious to me (and I still owe my family for that new transmission I had to buy in March). A lot of things have already been turned on their heads in time for the new year to begin. So things are changing (hopefully for the better… though I can’t imagine things getting too much worse) and I am trying to get a foothold.

Whatever happens next, I’m already sick of it.

“Life is just a series of reasons to bitch.”
--The Captain

14 Comments:

Blogger the warrior bard said...

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Tim opens the apartment door to reveal Dan and Hilda, who enter and stomp snow off of their shoes.

Tim
Welcome, welcome.

Dan
So this is the new pad. Nice place.

Tim
I was just about to start the movie.

Dan
Wait, where’s everyone else?

Hilda
Yah, I thought your new roommate vas going to be here?

Tim
Ah, she’s out. It’s just the three of us.

Dan
What? Where’s Brando? Jon and Brooke? And Starbuck? How can you host a Trilogy Day with only three people in attendance?

Tim
See, that’s the TRILOGY. There’s three of US. Get it?

Hilda
Oh no… I don’t like this…

Tim eagerly walks over to the DVD player and hits play. He walks back over to where Dan and Hilda are still standing in the doorway and reaches past them to hit the lights.

Tim
Grab a Coke. It’s starting!

Superman III begins playing.

Dan
OH DEAR GOD NO.

Tim
Dude. They’re awesome with rum.

Tim takes their coats and heads to the bedroom.

Dan
We have to get out of here. Now.

Hilda
Yah, I agree… how iz zat even a trilogy if you start with ze third one?

Dan
Hilda… I don’t want to know what he’s going to follow this up with. Probably Superman IV, but if the third one is worse than that, I don’t even want to know what it is. Just go.

Hilda
But our coats!

Dan
JUST GO!

Tim
[emerging from the bedroom]
Come on, you guys, you’re missing the opening!

Dan shoves Hilda toward the door just as it opens to reveal… Hilda?

Hilda
Vat ze hell?

Hilda stares at her doppelganger in the doorway. She looks exactly like the real Hilda with the exception of an extra pair of arms, holding groceries.

Robot Hilda
[in the voice of Jason Statham]
Bloody hell.

Robot Hilda’s lower arms drop the groceries and draw matching pistols from her/its belt as the upper arms do hooks and jabs at the real Hilda.

Dan
Here we go again!

Dan does a backflip, lands on the sofa behind Tim’s head, produces several throwing knives that were strapped to his ankle, and chucks them at Robot Hilda, just as Hilda dive-rolls out of the way. Robot Hilda catches the knives by the handles and grins back at Dan.

Robot Hilda
It’s good to have four arms, mate!

Armed with two knives and two guns, Robot Hilda opens fire on Dan, who kicks the sofa over for cover just in time. Tim crawls out into the open, but Dan drags him by the ankle back behind the sofa.

Dan
You bastard. You are going DOWN for this.

Tim
I swear, I didn’t know she was trying to kill you!

Dan
Not that--for inviting me to watch Superman III!

Hilda uses a pizza pan to knock the guns out of Robot Hilda’s hands. The two engage in a six-armed catfight.

Dan
But you should have known about this, too. Think about it. Your four-armed robot female roommate has the voice of a British actor—you knew they were all trying to kill me! Robot or not, voice acting is still acting!

Tim
What do we do?

Dan
We? You’re on your own. I’m getting out of here before it gets to the part where the kid writes that stupid letter to Superman.

Tim
That’s in the fourth one.

Dan
Whatever. The point is, you’re never hosting a Trilogy Day ever again.

The two Hildas crash around the kitchen area.

Dan
It’s only a matter of time before more Brits show up. Or the werewolves. Wait a second… weren’t you trying to kill me last time?

Tim
Me? Noooo.

Dan and Tim stare at each other for a second. Then Tim leaps over the sofa and runs out the door that Robot Hilda left open. Dan puts a new fresh clip in his gun [even though he didn’t have a gun a second ago] and remains crouched below the couch.

Dan catches a glimpse of something out the window and does a double take. A decaying black horse’s head is peering back at him from the bushes outside.

Dan
What the… a zombie horse?

Dan pops up from behind the couch and trains his gun on Robot Hilda, who uses Hilda as a human shield, holding her by the waist with her lower arms and holding knives to her throat with her upper arms.

Dan
This marathon is over.

Robot Hilda
I wouldn’t do that, mate. It’d be a shame if your tart here got hurt in the process.

Hilda
Vat are you doing? Shoot him! Her! Vatever!

Robot Hilda
Try it. I dare you.

Dan
Your movies suck, Statham.

Suddenly the Mexican standoff is interrupted when the TV changes on its own from a really bad scene with Lana Lang to Kevin Kline sitting in a mahogany chair.

Kline
Dan Haskins.

A smile curls on the lips of Robot Hilda.

Dan
What the hell.

Kline
You probably took it for granted that we were all defeated last time. Well, there’s always room for a sequel. You may have destroyed my robotic spider with Patrick Stewart on board, but this robotic Hilda clone will be your end. A final payback from all of us British actors.

Dan
BUT YOU’RE NOT EVEN BRITISH!

Kline
Neither is Herr Vogler, but he still spells it colourful and not colorful. At any rate, you’ve been a thorn in our side for long enough. With you out of the way, I will then single-handedly fulfill the objective of our master plan. Good-bye, Captain.

The TV shuts off. Dan seethes towards Robot Hilda, who still holds Hilda in an iron grip.

The only sound is the clip clop clip clop of hooves trying to sneak across the carpet in the next room.

Dan
What is that smell?

Robot Hilda
…Zombie Horse.

Suddenly the lights all go out, followed by more sounds of a horse scuffling around in the darkness.

Hilda
Vat is happening?

Robot Hilda
Zombie Horse cut the power!

Dan
Now how can a zombie horse do that? I’m going to resist the obvious Aliens quote here, and just address head-on the unlikelihood of a horse being a formidable undead adversary.

Dan is interrupted by the noise of the two Hildas thrashing around. A moment later, the lights come on again, and the two Hildas are facing one another, each holding a knife.

Hilda
Shoot her!

Robot Hilda
[suddenly imitating Hilda’s German accent]
Not me, shoot her!

Hilda
No, she’s the imposter!

Robot Hilda
No, she is!

Dan
But you’ve got four arms!

Dan empties his clip into the chest of Robot Hilda, who sparks and smokes for a second, then crumples to the ground with the pitch bend of a “powering down” sound effect.

Dan
We’d better get out of here before Kevin Kline’s reinforcements show up.

Hilda
And then ve should put a stop to Tim’s antics once and for all!

Dan
Agreed.

Dan puts his gun down and leans back against the wall. He lets out a long breath, and the camera pans over to reveal Zombie Horse standing right behind him! Alan Silvestri hits every single instrument in the orchestra with a hammer at the same time.

Monday, December 17, 2007 1:30:00 PM

 
Blogger The Captain said...

A sudden moment of realization wipes over Dan’s face. He grabs his Walter PPK and spins to face the

ZOMBIE HORSE
Wait!

HILDA
It can talk?!

Dan rolls his eyes in annoyance, and drops his gun to his side in defeat.

DAN
Why the fuck not.

ZOMBIE HORSE
Please, don’t shoot. I’m not really a zombie horse. I’m…

The beast grabs its own neck and pulls its rotten head off to reveal

PATRICK STEWART
Patrick Stewart.

DAN
Bullshit.

Stewart jerks his thumb towards the macabre costume’s rump.

PATRICK STEWART
And that’s Warwick Davis in the ass end.

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
Allo!

Stewart strikes a pose; hand on hip, with the fake zombie horse head under arm, very proud of himself.

Dan is unimpressed.

HILDA
(to herself)
Vy am I not surprised by zis?

DAN
What is it with you British actors?

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
Whatever do you mean?

DAN
I mean, I shoot you. I blow you up. Throw you off very tall things. Very, very high tall things.

WARWICK DAVIS PATRICK STEWART
(muffled)
And? And?

DAN
And yet you survive. Like some sort of horrible—

PATRICK STEWART
Zombie horse!?

DAN
Newwww. Not a zombie horse. That’s just—

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
Incredibly clever?

Dan pulls back the hammer on his weapon. He waves gun towards the rump and back towards Stewart’s face.

DAN
Wanna guess again Master Blaster?

There is a long and uncomfortable pause.

HILDA
Shouldn’t vee… be going after Tim? Or Kevin Kline? Or… some… zing…

Dan begins pacing around the room, eying each character with contempt. He talks to no one in particular.

DAN
You know, I’m not sure I even give a shit anymore. I mean, come on. Fine. Let’s say we pursue Tim. To what end? Because he’ll lead us to Kline? Why? Why would he?

Stewart begins to raise his hand to answer, but Hilda grabs it and lowers it, shaking her head slowly in admonishment.

DAN
Why would he? How could he? Nothing here makes sense. Not even a little tiny, teeny bitty bit. Five seconds into the pursuit and we’d be fighting Aztec mummies on top of fiery zeppelins. Or werewolves and vampires and goblins… allatthesamefuckingtime!
(shouting to the heavens)
Wherethefuckareallthegoblins?
(pause)
Huh?! You don’t know. But I bet that they’ll be here soon. Riding giant rabbit lizard monsters with rubber-band powered mini-guns strapped to their heads. But they won’t fire bullets at us. No! That would be too normal! They’ll fire sunshine and kitten farts, like so much references to past posts.

Desperately uncomfortable silence.

DAN
Goddamit, this is so weird! Is it even possible for me to have a minute go by where crazy shit doesn’t pop out of the woodwork to squat all over what modicum of progress I’ve made in this misbegotten narrative?

A sea full of dumbfounded faces.

Dan sighs, and then eyeballs a nondescript door in the apartment. It’s closed.

DAN
(pointing)
Like that door. Looks normal enough to me. I wonder what’s behind it? Closet, maybe? Or maybe a spare bedroom?

PATRICK STEWART
Perhaps a library?

HILDA
Or a kitchen pantry?

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
Or a perfect duplicate of this room, but all the people in it have been replaced with trained mongeese wearing tiny replica Revolutionary War uniforms?

PATRICK STEWART
Brits or Colonials?

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
I’m thinking 50/50.

DAN
Itdoesn’tfuckinmatter!

Everyone jumps back, startled.

DAN
It doesn’t matter, because whatever that room is, there’s always going to be some bizarre monstrosity inside of it, ready to jump out and shit all over my day.

HILDA
A monstrosity? Like vat?

DAN
Like a one-armed cephalopod assassin disguised as a 1950s-era soda jerk with a winky eye and a lisp.

PATRICK STEWART
That’s awfully—

DAN
Riding a unicycle.

HILDA
Crazy?

WARWICK DAVIS
(muffled)
Damn specific.

Dan nears the door, and reaches for the knob.

DAN
Well, if there’s one thing that I know… I know my crazy.

Dan grabs the knob and turns it, flinging the door wide.

Monday, December 17, 2007 10:49:00 PM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

A tiny man about three inches tall shields his face from the sudden light.

DAN
Aha. See? And what completely stupid explanation is there for this? Do you see what I mean yet?

BOB
Name’s Bob. Pleasedtameecha. I’m the modicum of progress you’ve made in this narrative. It’s about time you came to rescue me!! I’ve been forgotten amidst the action movie clichés.

DAN
Wow, you really are small.

BOB
Well who’s fault is that!

DAN
Tim’s the one always running with the egg.

BOB
He was only taking your lead. Now come on, we don’t have much time! We have to get to the archives!

DAN
The what? What for?

BOB
The archives. That’s where you can see all the previous posts and comments. We can bundle the entire Hilda Situation scenario together and prove that Tim is not nearly as clever as you. He’s just damn good at matching people’s style. One time he wrote this piano rag—

DAN
But what’s the POINT! Why should we bundle these together? Hey, here’s an idea—why don’t we make an entire new blog devoted to The Hilda Situation. Hell, we can even call it that! The Hilda Situation: A bunch of bizarre continuations and extrapolations of surreal jokes and references that spiral out of control and for some reason tend to fixate on the story arc of British actors in a conspiracy to kill me for no apparent reason.

PATRICK STEWART
We’re still here, you know.

BOB
But that’s exactly why we should go to the archives! So we can find out what that reason is! So we can conclude this once and for all, so there’s no way Tim can generate a sequel!

DAN
There’s always room for a shitty sequel, my friend.

HILDA
[tugs on Dan’s elbow]
I sink ve should go to ze archives!

DAN
Why? So we can do a parody of the latest Harry Potter movie, and have all the previous blog comments in little crystal balls like the prophecies?

WARWICK DAVIS
[crawls out of the horse’s ass and looks impressed]
Hey, that’s not a bad idea… you’re pretty good at this.

Dan shoots Warwick in the head.

PATRICK STEWART
You will pay for that!

DAN
Quityerbitchin. He’ll be back. They’ve already made like nineteen Leprechaun movies. I want no part of this anymore. No archives, nuh uhh. Newwww, I’m going home to get some work done.

PATRICK STEWART
Storyboarding The Hollow?

Dan turns around and takes very slow and menacing steps until he his standing inches from Patrick Stewart’s face.

BOB
This isn’t solving anything! We have to move NOW, people, before--

The whole apartment tilts as a terrible rumbling is heard from outside.

DAN
Now what.

Dan and Hilda run to the patio door and look outside. Patrick Stewart takes the opportunity to retreat, and Bob just stands there impatiently, since he’s too small to run over to Dan and Hilda in time.

Outside, buildings and cars are blowing up. War drums beat like titanic footsteps, and through the smoke in the distance, with flashed of bright light, they can see the cause of the wanton destruction. Scores of goblins are riding enormous rabbit-lizard hybrids with rubber-band-powered mini-guns strapped to their heads. The flashes of light are caused by these guns firing round after round of sunshine and kitten farts.

DAN
God damn it.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007 12:18:00 PM

 
Blogger The Captain said...

Dan slumps to the floor, banging his forehead into the window frame repeatedly. He's given up.

Patrick Stewart makes for the apartment door, laughing hysterically, dragging a Warwick Davis sized lump around in the ass of zombie horse costume.

HILDA
Stewart!

PATRICK STEWART
I hope you enjoy your splendifoury of decilatamnity, you quasi-defectible minor seize-ant!

BOB
What… the hell did he just say?

HILDA
(to Bob)
He… he doesn’t understand big vords, he just uses zem to sound menacingly intelligent.
(shaking Dan’s shoulders)
Dan, Dan! We've got to grab Stewart!

DAN
What's the point, Hilda? What about Stewart? Tim? Or Kline? What’s the point?

HILDA
But, we’ve got to… save the world… from…

BOB
(shrugs)
From, uh… the marauding rabbit-lizard riding goblins… destroying the city?

DAN
You don’t even know, do you? Neither of you can remember why this started.

Hilda and Bob look quizzically at each other.

DAN
Wiseman.

BOB
But why?

HILDA
Oh, I remember now. Months ago… that night—

DAN
No. It goes back farther than that. Before Die Hard 4. Before everything went to hell… when everything went to hell the first time.

Dan stares off in the distance, while Hilda and Bob looks quizzically at each other… again.

The screen begins to distort, while the shot

CROSSFADES TO:

Tuesday, December 18, 2007 1:23:00 PM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

INT. BASEMENT – NIGHT (MONOCHROMATIC FLASHBACK)

Five dogs are sitting around a poker table, smoking and drinking and having a good time.

JACK
So then I said to Tim, I said, “Look, I just make the poop. You’re the one with the plastic bag. City ordinance, man.”

BOOMER
Right on. I hate how they think that just because they’re guests they can get away with not doing any pet-owner duties.

ROSCO
Heh heh. You said… duties.

The other dogs chuckle.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

DAN
Sorry, wrong flashback.

CUT TO:

INT. BASEMENT – NIGHT (MONOCHROMATIC FLASHBACK)

Dan and Brando are gearing up for their movie. Brando plops down in the easy chair with a bowl of popcorn as Dan puts the DVD in.

BRANDO
So what’s this movie called again?

DAN
Underworld. Some new director. I just hope he stays true to the Romantic/Victorian vampire style and doesn’t go down the cheap, Matrix-wannabe, overproduction trend. Vampires shouldn’t be so sleek. And werewolves are the last vestige of quality horror. I just hope they don’t shit all over it…

BRANDO
Seriously. I swear, every movie we watch ends up sucking in some way. Isn’t that the appeal, though?

DAN
If this movie doesn’t at least have SOME redeemable quality in it, then I’m never going to get my hopes up for another movie ever again.

FLASH FORWARD:

Brando sits with an empty bowl of popcorn, jaw agape. Dan just stares blankly, a slight twitch in his right eye.

BRANDO
Wow.

DAN
That… was… awful.

BRANDO
[laughs mirthlessly]
Yeah. Too bad Jon and James weren’t here for it. Wow.

DAN
Don’t talk to me. Just… don’t talk. I need a minute.

Dan slowly walks over to the DVD player, ejects the disc, and holds it in his hands, looking it over for a long, pondering moment. He then goes into the bathroom and flushes it down the toilet.

BRANDO
You know that was a rental.

DAN
I don’t care. I’ll prevent other customers from facing the same fate we did.

And in that defining moment, Dan is pushed off the ledge of cynicism into a spiraling descent into hatred of all movies, despite the fact that he is a movie buff.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

HILDA
I see now.

DAN
So you see… Len Wiseman is the root of all that has happened here.

BOB
Then let’s end it. Once and for all. To the archives.

Dan stomps on Bob, who goes SKOOSH.

DAN
And give Tim the satisfaction? Hell no. I have a better idea.

HILDA
Vell I hope it involves taking out zose giant bunny lizards, because zey are coming zis vay!!

DAN
No no no. We’ll just get caught up in inadvertently playing along with Kevin Kline’s plan. We attack the problem at its source.

HILDA
Vat source? You skvished ze only one who could take us zere!

DAN
Never mind about Bob. He was just one step away from more Willow references. Remember the Brownies? That’s a Warwick Davis movie, too. What happens next? Bob resurrects Warwick Davis, who I just killed. I told you he’d be back, but I’m not going to just walk right into it. Come on.

Dan puts the gun in his belt and leads Hilda out the door and into the parking lot, where the sunshine/kitten fart volleys are getting nearer.

DAN
We’re going to do the UN-expected.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007 2:26:00 PM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT


Dan and Hilda walk boldly towards the rabbit-lizard mounts, ignoring the barrage of sunshine and kitten farts.

HILDA
Vat are you going to do?? Zis iz crazy!! Ve should be fleeing!

DAN
[squinting up at the goblin riders]
Kevin Kline is here. I just know it. Trust me. This is sure to work.

HILDA
VAT IS?!

Sure enough, the blasting ceases, and the rabbit-lizards part to make room for the largest rabbit-lizard ever to come through. In fact, it’s part rabbit, part lizard, park monkey, part elephant, part Orco from the old He-Man cartoons. It croaks loudly and stops right in front of Dan and Hilda. Dan slowly motions for her to step back. She timidly backs away from the confrontation.

On top of the mount is a small canopy made of popsickle sticks and the tears of tormented atonal composers. A nine-foot, naked Iranian dude with tattoos and bling steps down and speaks to Dan directly, in a surprisingly high and squeaky voice. And he has a Georgian accent too, for some reason.

MINION
You are the Captain?

DAN
You’re not British either! Where’s the consistency anymore?

MINION
Actually, I was born in Edinb—

DAN
Where’s Kline?

MINION
[looks indignant]
He’s in the canopy. I’ll get him for you.

DAN
Yeah, you do that.

The Persian climbs up to the canopy and confers with the person inside. A hand reaches out the tiny canopy window and does a Darth Vader Force-choke on him until he is wriggling on the ground.

DAN
[glances at Hilda]
I suppose that Iranian president what’s-his-nuts is going to misconstrue THAT as an anti-Iranian sentiment, too?

Hilda shrugs.

Kevin Kline bursts through the door of the canopy and sternly descends until he is standing on the ground in front of Dan. His goblin enforcers lean in anxiously, training their fart guns on Dan.

KEVIN KLINE
So. We meet again. I’m surprised by your boldness. You’re lucky I didn’t have them kill you outright.

DAN
[grins]
You wouldn’t do that.

KEVIN KLINE
[raises an eyebrow]
Oh really? And why not? After all the trouble you’ve caused me?

DAN
You wouldn’t do that, because…

Dan rips off his face to reveal—

Kevin Kline!!!

DAN / KEVIN KLINE
Because we’re the same person!

Somewhere in the distance, M. Night Shyamalan ejaculates.

Saturday, December 22, 2007 10:56:00 AM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

DISSOLVE FADE TO:

INT. LEN WISEMAN’S THRONE ROOM


Len Wisemen sits in a dimly lit room with polished black marble walls and furniture. The entire wall behind his throne is a window overlooking the metropolitan night. He sits alone, with his fingers pressed together, proudly observing the framed movie posters next to his door. In fact, they aren’t posters of his movies but giant photos of himself standing next to the posters.

LEN
My God, I’m so cool. I mean, I’m really, really cool.

Two of his minions enter, a pair of British actors who never made it in the film business.

BLOKE #1
M’lord, the reversal is complete.

LEN
Good. Send him in.

The two peons bow timidly and retreat back into the lobby. A moment later, the large twin doors dramatically swing open to reveal Ian McDiarmid, who chuckles wickedly.

LEN
Good to have you back. I’m amazed that you were able to turn yourself into a Hello Kitty backback at the last second, but it was very difficult to transform you back. I’ll never understand how that worked.

IAN
The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be… unnnn-natural…

LEN
Right whatever. Listen, I need you to take over the next wave of the Hilda situation.

IAN
I would be honored.

LEN
Also, in an attempt to revive continuity, I am sending for Mr. T. He has been oddly absent since being mentioned briefly.

IAN
Continuity?

LEN
I realize you may be unfamiliar with the concept after spanning two trilogies, but it’s occasionally important to observe.

IAN
As you wish.

LEN
The purpose behind our objective is still secure. No one knows why Hilda was our main target. I think everyone forgot by now anyway.

IAN
The purpose behind our objective? Isn’t that redundant?

LEN
What did I say? I didn’t say that.

IAN
Yes you did! You said “the purpose behind our objective is still secure”… that sounds awkward. I’m starting to think that you are really bad at writing dialogue.

LEN
Oh, and I suppose you are a master wordsmith. Mister It Is Your Destiny.

IAN
I’m not the only one who says that! Besides, I have seen your movies. They are mostly a bunch of—

LEN
Seen them? Like…. you’ve… FORE-seen them? Did they proceed as you have foreseen?

IAN
Listen, do you want my help or not? As I was saying, how come Kate Beckinsale isn’t here? How come we’re only using male British actors? There is a whole pool of untapped resources out there waiting…

LEN
For now, we just need to concentrate on the Hilda situation. You will take Kevin Kline’s place at my side.

IAN
That sounds… oddly familiar…

LEN
You will give Kevin Kline aid until such a time as I tell you to do otherwise on my command.

IAN
There’s that shitty dialogue again. And why Kevin Kline, anyway? He’s not even British! You might as well throw in John Lithgow while you’re at it!

LEN
(thoughtful)
That’s not bad… he is usually cast in British roles, isn’t he?

IAN
But what about Kate Beckinsale? You’re obsessed with her as it is. She’s conspicuously absent from all this…

LEN
ENOUGH ABOUT THE FEMALE ACTORS!

IAN
They’re called actresses.

Len lurches to his feet, face red with fury. He thrusts a finger at the door.

LEN
YOU WILL OBEY ME NOW!! You have your orders, now GO!

Ian reluctantly bows and exits.

The doors latch closed very loudly, followed by silence. Len walks over to a framed poster and reaches for a switch behind it. The corner of the throne room gives way to a secret compartment containing Kate Beckinsale bound and gagged. She looks as though she has been crying for days.

Len runs over to her and pets her.

LEN
Sh, sh, sh, shhhh! It’s okay, Katie, I’m not going to let them hurt you! You’re safe with me here! Now, let me pitch you the idea for two more Underworld movies…

Kate Beckinsale sobs through her gag, shaking uncontrollably.


CUT TO:

Sunday, December 23, 2007 7:27:00 PM

 
Blogger Mikey the Pikey said...

Sorry to break continuity for a moment, but I just wanted to make sure that everyone knows that Wiseman and Kate Beckinsale are actually married...dunno, just thought you guys could have fun with that...

...sorry for the interuption, now........continue...

Wednesday, December 26, 2007 4:23:00 AM

 
Blogger The Captain said...

EXT. EMPTY CITY STREET – DUSK

A desolate avenue liberally peppered with debris from high-rises cast asunder and colossal rabbit-lizard detritus.

In the distance we see a form darting erratically about from rubble pile to rubble pile.

CLOSE ON FEET SCRAMBLING TOWARDS THE APEX OF A MOUND OF RABBIT-LIZARD TURD

FRANTIC EYES pop into view, scanning the horizon. It is

TIM

looking disheveled, with several days of beard growth, face splattered in filth, clothes torn like he has awoken from a few centuries of slumber.

TIM
Where… is he? Where is he?

A distant crack of the sunshine gun. Tim snaps his head over his shoulder. The echo is followed by another – the report of a kitten fart. It is impossible to tell where it came from, only that it is too far away to precede any immediate danger.

Tim sniffs the air.

A sound. Close. A skittering of rubble several yards away.

TIM'S POV
Tim whips his head back, staring down the alley.

Nothing. Then something. Distant... voices?

Tim leaps from the rubble pile and breaks into a loping run, seeking the source of the sound. We can eventually pick out the sound of voices. Raised pitch. Rage.

An argument. Two men. A woman.

Tim nears and intersection, and heads to his left, rounding the corner of a monolithic building.

There's another sound. A low rhythmic pulsing. Something big. Something like

A COLOSSAL RABBIT-LIZARD

Tim stops dead in his tracks, and scrambles quickly back around the corner. With great hesitation, he peaks, gingerly, back past the edge. We see bewilderment in his eyes as he sees

KEVIN KLINE AND... KEVIN KLINE

face-to-face, engaged in an argument at the base of some horrifying colossal rabbit-lizard hybrid which he has never laid eyes upon before.

TIM
Two Klines? What the...

In his awe, he nearly overlooks the fact that HILDA is standing near one of the Klines.

TIM
Hilda? Oh my G-- no. No. Wait a minute....

TIM'S POV
He focuses on her arms.

TIM
One. Two.

Tim grins weakly.

TIM
Okay. Probably definitely Hilda.

CRACK!

Tim winces a withdraws around the corner, falling on his ass. He grips the back of his skull, and winces again.

WHISPER (OS)
Tim!

Tim turns towards the direction of the whisper.

TIM
Ow... what?

CRACK!

A sizable stone beans Tim in the head, for the second time.

TIM
Goddamit! Ow! I heard you the first time!

WHISPER (OS)
Shhh. Over here.

Tim lurches nearer the source of the whisper, but notices no one.

TIM
Who's there.

WHISPER (OS)
Over here.

The voice is nearer, seemingly coming from behind an OVERTURNED CITY BUS.

As Tim rounds the bus, his jaw drops when he sees

ANOTHER TIM

but with blue skin and ultra-bright orange hair.

TIM
Holy shit. It's Bizzaro Me?

BIZARRO TIM
Me? Bizzaro Me? I don't think so pal. Have you looked at yourself lately. Please...

TIM
What?

BIZARRO TIM
With your brown hair and pink skin. Anyone could see that you're the Bizarro version of me from a mile away.

TIM
What?! Are you kidding me? Look around, ya jackass.

Tim motions to a poster on the back of a bench on the sidewalk, plastered with photos of the local news team.

TIM
See anyone with blue skin? Construction cone orange hair.

Bizarro Tim glances towards the bench and begins studying it. After a moment, he quickly turns to Tim with fire in his eyes, gripping him by the collar and slamming him into the side of a nearby taxi.

BIZARRO TIM
What the hell is going on here?!

TIM
Ack! I dunno! All I know is that everything was going good a few hours ago. I had invited a couple of friends over for a movie marathon... and then everything goes to hell. Again.

BIZARRO TIM
Again?! Explain!

TIM
I... I... can't. Nothing.... nothing makes any sense anymore.

Tim begins to sob. Bizzaro Tim relaxes his hold slightly.

TIM
I was just going to do what I do every time. Run with the egg--

BIZARRO TIM
Run with the what?

TIM
Take an egg, hardboiled.

Tim loosens himself from Bizarro Tim's grip, and walks away a few paces.

TIM
Cup it in your hands, or a spoon for an extra-special challenge. And run with it.

Tim mocks holding an egg in his hands and runs comically around in a circle once or twice.

BIZARRO TIM
That's retarded. Why would you do that?

TIM
It's what I always do.

BIZARRO TIM
Always? But... why?

TIM
It's fun.

BIZARRO TIM
You're an idiot.

Tim begins to fish around in his back pocket.

TIM
But this time, when all the shit was comin' down, when I went to run with the egg...

He produces a tiny miniature pink whatnot from his pocket, and holds it out for examination by Bizzaro Tim.

BIZARRO TIM
What... is that?

TIM
I think it's a tiny Hello Kitty backpack.

BIZARRO TIM
Hello--

TIM
Kitty. Yup. What is it, Dog or something where you're from?

BIZARRO TIM
Perhaps.

TIM
Anyhow... i guess the egg turned into this about a block ago. Before that... well, as I ran from my apartment, it just kept.. shifting... from one thing to another. So far it's been a Micronaut, a miniature head of film critic Gene Shalit, the submarine from Fantastic Voyage, a scale replica of chicken's reproductive system--

BIZARRO TIM
Ewww.

TIM
and a really small version of that polar bear from Lost. That one was really fucked up. Bit my hand and everything...

Tim offers his hand for examination as well. Bizarro Tim slaps it away.

BIZARRO TIM
Lost?

TIM
Oh yeah, you probably call it Found.

BIZARRO TIM
I love that show.

TIM
Yeah, its great.
(pause)
You know, if patently obvious comedy "opposites" and a Fakor color scheme are as weird as this is going to get, then I think we'll be fine.

BIZARRO TIM
(sly)
Are you proposing a team-up?

TIM
Damn straight.

BIZARRO TIM
Alight! Then what are we waiting for?

TIM
Yes! I've dreamed of this since I was a kid. Teaming up with my clone, or evil twin, or bizarro me, and kicking major ass!

BIZARRO TIM
No, really. What are we waiting for. I'd like to do whatever we're going to do, and then figure out why the hell I'm here and return home and all that jazz.

TIM
Oh. Sorry. Yeah, sure, let's get going. There's, like, a big building in the center of town. Unscathed. Probably where the head nasty lives. Or something.

BIZARRO TIM
Good enough. Let's roll.

The two begin their journey down the deserted city streets as the last bits of dusk dwindle away.

TIM
So, are you a composer, too?

BIZARRO TIM
Yeah. Last year I was voted greatest living composer of our time. You?

TIM
Oh. Yeah. Me too.

A pregnant pause.

BIZARRO TIM
You know that I know that you're lying, right?

TIM
I'm fine with that.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007 4:35:00 PM

 
Blogger The Captain said...

CUT TO:

EXT. PARKING LOT – NIGHT

Where the double Klines are still engaged in debate.

KEVIN KLINE
(annoyed)
Impossible!

DAN / KLINE TOO
I’m telling you, man. I’m you. You’re me.

KEVIN KLINE
Are you… are you some sort of evil twin? Surely not… you don’t even have a goatee!

KLINE TOO
Evil twin? I dunthinkso. This coming from a man who was recently leading a goblin army on rabbard-back, rampaging throughout the city.

KEVIN KLINE
True, now that you— wait. Rabbard-back?

KLINE TOO
Yes. Rabbard back. Rabbit lizard. Rabbard. What… are you going to argue about that too?

KEVIN KLINE
Well, I—

KLINE TOO
Forget it. We don’t have time for this. Wiseman wanted us back at the Tower of Power an hour ago.

KEVIN KLINE
Tower of… Power?

KLINE TOO
Yeah, HQ. Whatever he’s calling it now. He called me on the two-way, said it was urgent--

KEVIN KLINE
I don’t recall Wiseman calling it the Tower of Power. It’s underground—

KLINE TOO
Well, he did.

KEVIN KLINE
And… the two-way? What do you mean--

KLINE TOO
Radio communicator. Walkie-talkie... are we going to get mired in some sort of semantics debate?

KEVIN KLINE
Semantics? But, we use a series of carrier pigeons for all communiqués—

KLINE TOO
I say Dick Tracy radio watch; you say bird with a note tied to its foot. Whatever. My way's faster. Let’s go.

KEVIN KLINE
I—

KLINE TOO
Getalong little doggies…

KEVIN KLINE
I just think th--

KLINE TOO
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a sec…

KEVIN KLINE
What?! What is it?

KLINE TOO
Over there. I think I just saw Fakor walk between those two buildings.

Thursday, December 27, 2007 12:59:00 AM

 
Blogger The Captain said...

CUT TO:

INT. WAITING ROOM

Two white robed and similarly bearded men sit, one chair apart, in a dismal and cramped room. The walls surrounding them are lined with empty folding chairs, which frame a single simple door on the opposite wall.

One of the men, the taller of the two, fiddles with the knobs on an old black and white television, the only other appointment - besides a vintage red rotary phone - in the room.

LEE
(sigh)
Every blasted channel…

MCKELLAN
God, this is boring.

LEE
Kline vs Kline…

MCKELLAN
Extraordinarily… astoundingly… boring.

LEE
Or A Tale of Two Tims. That’s it. That’s all that’s been on this blasted thing for a fortnight. Blast.

MCKELLAN
Yes. Blast.

Lee stands up, arching and eventually cracking his back. He paces back and forth a bit, while McKellan stares blankly at the floor.

LEE
So, we’re just going to wait?

MCKELLAN
I suppose so. It’s all we can do. Until we are summoned.

Lee continues pacing, and shakes his head.

LEE
I can’t do this. Waiting around for the inevitable. To be “summoned”. Are we men? Or slaves?

MCKELLAN
Neither. And both. We’re British actors. Doomed to play henchmen in American films. Villains, perhaps, at best. But often… almost always… evil.

Lee stops pacing, and rests his brow – arm over head – against one of the blank walls.

LEE
I know. But still…

A moment of silence.

MCKELLAN
God, this is boring.

Lee returns to his chair, taking his seat. Dejected.

LEE
So we are to wait until those unimaginative hacks call us forth once again… miraculously resurrected… for a cheap
(chokes on the word)
gag.

MCKELLAN
It appears so.
(pause)
To be truthful, my compatriot, I would have thought they would have dipped into that often drawn upon well of bargain basement comedy by now. But alas. Here we sit.

LEE
Treated to ever more heavy-handed would-be absurdist adventure. In reality, nothing more than wandering blindly, aimlessly… in a desolate orchard… the fruit of endless possibilities now fallen, rotten, to the ground.

A moment of reflection. The two venerable actors sigh in unison.

MCKELLAN
And what’s the deal with all the twins?

LEE
Yeah, I know! That’s just so…

MCKELLAN / LEE
Contrived.

Several more minutes of unproductive silence.

MCKELLAN
God, this is boring.

Thursday, December 27, 2007 9:24:00 AM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

INT. THRONE ROOM – NIGHT


LEN WISEMAN
I mean, I’m just so… so… cooool.

Wiseman’s reverie is interrupted when Tim and Bizarro Tim enter.

TIM
What the hell--?

BIZARRO TIM
Well, here we are.

TIM
Wait, you didn’t say you could lead us right into the throne room of the Tower of Power!

LEN WISEMAN
The what?

BIZARRO TIM
I thought it was implied. We were going to report to the master.

TIM
The what?!

BIZARRO TIM
(sheepishly hesitant)
Right… because… you’re working for Wiseman, right?

TIM
You mean you have been an agent of Wiseman all this time? You’re not even a British actor! OR a rabbard! Wait… of course, because you’re the BIZARRO me.

BIZARRO TIM
Uhhh… yeah. Well, if you recall, you kind of flip-flop around. Sometimes you seem to be trying to kill Dan, and sometimes you’re oblivious to what’s going on, seemingly innocent. I don’t know, man. Where’s the continuity? Pick a side. For GOD’S SAKE, none of this makes any SENSE!!

Tim turns away, visibly wrestling with something inside.

For a moment, Tim stares at the poster of Len Wiseman standing in front of the poster of Underworld 4: After the Armageddon, and the only sound is that of Kate Beckinsale sobbing from behind the secret passage.

TIM
You want me… to join you… ?

BIZARRO TIM
I thought it was implied that you already were working for Wiseman!

TIM
No! I was always sort of doing my own thing! You need to pay more attention.

BIZARRO TIM
This is why we need a separate blog for all this bullshit.

TIM
What a terrible idea.

LEN WISEMAN
Enough! I have work for you to do. We must silence all dissenters.

BIZARRO TIM
You know, he says that in my world, too. Of course, anyone’s a tasteless idiot for dissenting against the greatest director of all time!

TIM
(skeptically)
Of all time? Really.

BIZARRO TIM
Yeah! Len Wiseman did The Lord of the Rings!

TIM
(rattled)
Oh God.
(with dawning revulsion)
Oh my God. Ohhhh, GOD! NOO!!!

BIZARRO TIM
What.

TIM
Okay, this “opposite” humor has gone on long enough. I am not going to join you. I’m going to continue to do my own thing. Despite the fact that I previously attempted to help the werewolves take out Dan and Hilda, I cannot in good conscience ally with the guy who did Underworld. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be leaving now.

BIZARRO TIM
Oh come on. It beats sitting at home and watching DVDs of Everybody Loves Raymond.

TIM
I think you mean Seinfeld.

BIZARRO TIM
That show sucks.

Tim snaps. He hurls himself at Bizarro Tim, eyes wild with animal rage. The two Tims crash through the window and fall…

LEN WISEMAN
There are too many Goddamn story arcs to keep track of here.

Len opens a panel in the arm of his throne and a button is revealed. With a malicious grin, he hits the button…

CUT TO:

EXT. TOWER – NIGHT

Tim and Bizarro Tim grip each other in mortal combat, though both are sure to die upon impact. A really effing loud New Zealand choir accompanies their free-falling duel.

Bizarro Tim contorts in a CGI morph effect.

BIZARRO TIM
No!! Not the button!!

TIM
WhatthefuckareyouTALKINGabout?!

Doubling the budget of any shot so far, Bizarro Tim rather painfully transforms into:

RICARDO MONTOBAN
At last! I have returned!

TIM
Oh what the HELL man.

RICARDO MONTOBAN
(menacing)
Remember me?

TIM
Actually… no.

RICARDO MONTOBAN
Oh, it all ties back. I assure you. Loose ends.

TIM
No seriously, I don’t remember when you showed up before.

RICARDO MONTOBAN
It doesn’t matter! I am the one behind all this! Len Wiseman and I are partners, you see!

TIM
If you really are Ricardo Montoba, then…

Tim feels his pecs.

TIM
My God. They’re real… and they’re spectacular!

RICARDO MONTOBAN
Was that a Seinfeld reference?

TIM
Maybe.

RICARDO MONTOBAN
Listen carefully. I was disguised as Bizarro You to get you to help me. I want to break allegiance with Len Wiseman. Betrayal was always my intention, but I can’t do it alone. Len turned me back because it was getting too complicated. Now that I’m free, I want you to help me destroy him!

TIM
Why should I help you?

RICARDO MONTOBAN
Well, because we’re about to hit the pavement. Just say yes, it’s easier than trying to fabricate character motivation.

TIM
Fair enough.

Ricardo Montoban sprouts wings like that pretty-boy in X-Men 3 and the two barely graze the tops of the cars below as they swoop down and up again.

TIM
So what’s the plan?

RICARDO MONTOBAN
We find Hilda before it’s too late.

TIM
Yeah, see, I don’t get that. It was never explained why SHE is the focus of all this. What about Dan? He’s the apparent action hero in all this.

RICARDO MONTOBAN
I only hope we can get there before Kevin Kline destroys them both.

Thursday, December 27, 2007 12:39:00 PM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

INT. WAITING ROOM


LEE
I don’t think I can take much more of this.

MCKELLAN
Then change the channel.

LEE
None of the alternatives are any good, either! Look at this. Underworld 2 is on again. And again. And again.

MCKELLAN
Does that surprise you? I mean, given where we are…

LEE
I was Dracula, Goddammit. Back when vampires were vampires, not pseudo-Matrixy, overly-stylized, Narcissistic glamour hogs. Kate Beckinsale. PAH!!

MCKELLAN
(rolls eyes)
Here we go again.

LEE
What’s that supposed to mean?

MCKELLAN
You always pull out the roles you’re proud of when it’s convenient to bitch about something else being inferior. You were also in Gremlins 2, you know.

LEE
I told you never to speak of that!!

MCKELLAN
(consoling)
Look, my dear Christopher. You were an iconic vampire at one time, but that was an age ago. Vampires have changed, and our master is the one with the new vision.

LEE
(bows head in defeat)
I… I know, it’s just that… I just wish the genre didn’t have to change so much.

MCKELLAN
So do all who live to be eclipsed by a new generation. But that is not for them to decide.

LEE
I’m starting to think Dan’s right. Maybe… maybe Len Wiseman is responsible for the ruin of a great legacy. What happened to the Neo-Victorian Romanticism of the vampire mythos? Doesn’t anyone care about the Lovecraft-ian roots of the genre?

MCKELLAN
You lost me.

LEE
Forget it. The only reason we still have jobs is because of our cool voices. Nobody appreciates true theatrics anymore. It’s all CGI and throbbing Media Ventures drum loops.

The door opens.

JUDY DENCH
Mr. Wiseman will see you now.

Christopher Lee and Ian McKellan rise and stretch their backs.

MCKELLAN
Hey, didn’t we die in a helicopter explosion before?

LEE
Eh? Who can keep track.

Thursday, December 27, 2007 1:06:00 PM

 
Blogger the warrior bard said...

ROLL CREDITS.

...as the entire theater looks at each other in "WTF?!" bewilderment. No story arcs are wrapped up and the worthiness of the entire script hinges on the next installment, though everyone will forget most of the details by the time it is picked up again. I guess they'll just have to buy the DVD to refresh their memory.

You suck.

Sunday, January 06, 2008 1:35:00 PM

 

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