Thursday, December 7, 2017

And so it was written

EXT, HILLTOP IN ANCIENT ISRAEL — DAY

Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Mount

Jesus: (to Scribe) you getting this?

Scribe: (scribbling away) Oh yeah.

INT, SCRIBE’S HOUSE — NIGHT

Scribe walks inside. Sees various sheets of parchment with obscene drawings on them stuck to the wall.

Scribe: Oh f***!!! Malachi!

Scribe’s Wife: (enters room) What did that little … Oh f***

Scribe: Tell me about it.

Scribe’s Wife: What do we do now? They’re putting the Bible together tomorrow!

Scribe: What … (snaps fingers) We make s*** up.

Scribe’s Wife: Are you crazy?

Scribe: No, you’re right. What was I thinking? We’ll just turn in a bunch of dick picture to the Bible committee.

Scribe’s Wife: I’ll get the papyrus.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017


Come and play with us, Donald. Forever and ever and ever ...

Thursday, November 16, 2017

The Accident-Prone Don

EXT, NEW YORK CITY STREET - DAY
Scratchy black-and-white footage from the 1950s. A Cadillac pulls up to the curb. An imposing Mafia Don approaches. A flunky opens the door. Photographers cluster around him like locusts. 

Narrator: Tony Antonioni. He combined a ruthless, Machiavellian grasp of strategy with sudden bursts of psychotic rage and an extremely poor sense of spatial awareness. That's why they called him "The Accident-Prone Don." But not to his face.


Tony bends down to get in the car. Misjudges. Hits the top of his head.

Tony: Ow! Motherfucker! Why do I always do that?

The car drives away.

Y-yeah.
You designed the Coupe de Ville, huh.
Yes I did. Why.
Love the fins, Harley. But the fucking edriver's side window ends at the roof. There's like three inches of roof! What's up with that?
It's easy to misjudge getting in.
It's a convertible.
Don't give me fucking excuses. It's bad design.
People could get hurt.
Yeah. Like you.

Narrator: (OS) Don Antonioni lived by a simple credo. "Keep your friends close and chop your enemies up into small pieces and put them down the garbage disposal in different locations." This code of honor had worked for him for years. It was still working in 1955. Then a meeting with the Five Families changed everything. It was Don Ameche's Retirement Party. The notorious Boss of All Bosses, also known as the Capo de Tutti Fruiti. 

A toast. To Don Ameche!

Don Antonion raises his glass, clnks it.
The glass shatters.
Red wine spills all over Don Ameche's white coat.

You did this on purpose.
No.
You did this on purpose to insult me!
No. I did not do this thing as you have said with such an untoward intention.
What?
I didn't do it on purpose?
Freud says everything's on purpose. 
Fuck FReud. No disrespect indented. Nomine domine. What do you think.
Ah, Tony, Tony ... Forget it! I think it was an accident.
A what?
An accident. 
Yeah. So ... not like this?

Tony whips out a 45 and blasts Don Ameche full of holes.

Fuck you -- you chickenshit Colonel Sanders motherfucker. 

Sound: (OS) Police sirens.
Tony: We gotta get outta here. Through the kitchen.
He goes through the kitchen doors. Bangs his head.
Tony: Motherfucker!

Sunday, October 29, 2017

F***ing Paper Skeleton


Behold. The F***ing Paper Skeleton. Yes, I had it, once. And I'd been had. The f***ing ad in the f***ing comic book said, "Life-sized human skeleton." It seemed improbable, but they couldn't lie in an ad, right? So I sent away for it. I'm figuring a life-sized, plastic, human skeleton would arrive in in the U.S. Mail in some kind of plastic coffin. "Why, yes, Mr. Postman. I've been expecting that. I'd be happy to sign for it." Then the damn envelope arrived. Envelope? Yes, ENVELOPE. Flat, obviously. It was a f***ing paper skeleton! I knew it immediately, without opening the envelope. They made their bogus, impossible claim. And, like a chump kid, I fell for it. To this day, I've never gotten over the profound disillusionment.

Monday, October 23, 2017

The Vincent Price is Right

Vincent Price: What do we have to bid on, Igor?

Igor wheels out giant plexiglas cage.

Igor: We have the Tingler, master! The Tingler!

Vincent: Excellent!

Contestant: What the hell is a Tingler? Is that some kind of sex thing?

Vincent: Well, no Mrs. Jones. The Tingler in question is a parasite that attaches to the base of the human spine. Have you ever been afraid, in your life? Extremely afraid?

A few times

And did you notice .. a tingling of the spine during this unpleasant experience?

Yes.

Well that's the tingler! It feeds and grows stronger when the host is afraid! There's only one way to stop it. Screaming!

OK.

Well, what do you bid, Mrs Jones?

Nothing! Why the hell would I want ...

Master!

He points to the cage.

The Tingler it has escaped.

Ah. Well, I'm afraid the question is academic, Mrs. Jones.