Monday, June 9, 2014

“Oswald was patsy!” MI-6 agent claims.


Macau, China. Recently revived from 50-some years of storage in a cryonic facility in Macau, China, MI-6 “commander” James Bond is, if not in fact than in majority opinion (lay and scientific), whom he claims to be, according to genetic evidence—a 100% DNA match, based on 1963 samples—although “doubters” cast doubt on reliability and authenticity of same. Leaving said controversy aside, is Bond to be believed?

Bond's claims are nothing less than shocking. If true, we are shocked indeed. How shocked?

Let the facts or claims speak for themselves.

“Oswald was a patsy!” Bond claimed, in a recent televised and recorded statement referring to Lee Harvey Oswald. “He was a wetworks agent assigned to Felix Leiter, my CIA counterpart.”

By way of explanation, Bond elaborated that Oswald’s mission was one of insertion, deception and prevention. Of what? Specifically, the 1963 assassination of United States of America President John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

“I thought he was on drugs,” Bond recalled ruefully, referring to Oswald and not President Kennedy. “The CIA had—there was all that Owsley LSD stuff floating around at the time, and some of it had clearly floated his way. At least that’s what I assumed when he started going on the way he did.”

According to Bond, during his time as a supposed “defector” in the USSR, Oswald claimed to have infiltrated a SMERSH operational unit based in the outskirts of Yalta—and possessing a humid, hot climate similar to that of Dallas, Texas.

“Oswald was always on about that," Bond asserted. "He said they’d created the whole goddamned street. By which I mean Elm Street—the bloody street in front of the Texas School Book Depository and all the rest of it.” The former MI-6 agent went on to say that the procession of JFK’s motorcade (and the President's subsequent assassination by triangulated crossfire) had been repeatedly rehearsed—according to Oswald's story.

Bond added that, "The story was crazy. But the story checked out."

According to Bond, once his doubts ended, his mission began.

Oswald, meanwhile, had a double mission. From a Soviet perspective?

“Oswald was meant to draw fire and attract police attention,” Bond affirmed. “The killshot was never Oswald’s job. Getting caught bloody well was. During his inevitable trial, he had a rehearsed speech spilling the details of Operation Mongoose—that stupid CIA plot to assassinate Castro with pornography or exploding cigars or some shite of that variety, in case you’re wondering. Oswald would openly boast of Castro’s revenge and bloody well dare the USA to start World War III. The Soviets assumed the stupid USA wouldn’t be that bloody stupid—and look impotent and ineffectual as a result. All the Lumumbas they had under their thumb would have a field day."

Instead, Bond and Oswald worked together to thwart the plan with a counter-scheme involving lasers and explosions.

“It was sodding brilliant,” recalled Bond. “We’d all be smoking cigars and ball—enjoying ourselves in Jamaica in the end.”

Instead, Bond experienced a sudden blackout. And a rude awakening.

“I woke up in this shitty place called The Village,” he said wistfully. “Lots of parades and stupid conformity and this fucking balloon that would eat you. I hated it. Never fit in, really.”

According to Bond, that’s why they put him to sleep.

“Next thing I knew, I woke up in Macao in 2014,” he said. “All these Chinese doctors grinning at me. ‘The joke’s on you,’ they said. But I knew better."

A rueful expression crossed Bond's apparently 36-year-old face.

“It was really on Oswald. Lee, I should say. Lee. Poor bastard—brothers in arms, and such. I hate what they did to him, really hate it. He really was a bloody patsy, just like he said. The joke was on him, wasn’t it?”

Sunday, April 27, 2014

The Procrastinator


EXT. LA SCHOOLYARD -- NIGHT

Crackling electrical display. The Procrastinator appears.

Approaches a group of punks.

PROCRASTINATOR: Give me your clothes.

PUNK: No. Come back later.

PROCRASTINATOR: All right.

He walks away. Goes to a phone kiosk, flips through phone book.

Turns to listings for SARAH CONNOR.

His Procrastinator Vision reveals dozens of Sarah Connors.

PROCRASTINATOR: Screw it. I'll just do the first one.

He drops phone book, walks away.

INT. LA DINER - NIGHT

Reese is sitting at a booth in front of an empty plate. Sarah Connor, in waitress uniform, walks up.

SARAH: Do you want to look at our dessert menu --

REESE: (grabs her) Listen to me!

SARAH: Hey, skip dessert! I don't care!

REESE: Pay attention! I come from the future.

SARAH: Great Scott!

REESE: Yeah, and a killer robot just came from the future, too. He's out to kill you, Sarah. He's called the Procrastinator. He -- actually, you know I would like an eclair or something. The food's pretty shitty in the future.

Sarah and Reese sitting at booth. He finishes eclair.

REESE: Anyway, the machines used up all the good robots killing the TV show on Fox, so they sent the Procrastinator ...

SARAH: After me?

REESE: Well, somebody with your name. And you're the first name in the phone book! He's lazy. That's just the way -- focus! That Procrastinator is out there. It can't be reasoned or bargained with. It absolutely will not stop. Ever. Until you are dead. Or if it gets bored or distracted by something, which usually happens in the first five minutes.

Door bursts open.

Reese ducks. But it's just --

A garage-station attendant named Clyde and two police officers.

CLYDE: (pointing at Reese) He stole my jumpsuit!

REESE: What are you talking about? (looks down) Ah shit, there's a name tag. First rule of time travel. Never steal clothes with a name tag.

POLICE OFFICER: You'll need to come with me, pal. You too, lady.

SARAH: Do you want to look at our dessert menu?

INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT FOYER - NIGHT  
Procrastinator walks in. Goes up to Sergeant at front desk who's eating a pie from Sarah's restaurant.

PROCRASTINATOR: I'm a friend of Sarah Connor. Can I see her, please?

SERGEANT: Not now. She's making a statement. You wanna wait?  

PROCRASTINATOR: I'll be back.

He turns and walks out.

The DESK SERGEANT returns to his pie.

Nothing happens.



Friday, April 18, 2014

With love, the Muse

The Muse appeared to him.

In bed, OK? Next to him. In bed.

He'd been praying for this. Not expecting it. But praying for it.

Praying for her.

And here she was. 

The Muse was beautiful. In every saintly, stained-glass window sacred form you could possibly imagine. And in every wrong, 14-year-old depraved adolescent manifestation as well.

He wasn't a 14-year-old any more. Though he was responding like one. 

But he clamped it down. Asked the question he'd been wanting to ask.

"What's the secret of writing?"

"There's no secret."

Giggle.

You gotta be kidding me.

He didn't say that out loud. Just looked at her. With big, wide, desperate eyes.

The Muse threw him a bone.

"OK, OK," she said. "Look. It's no secret. Seriously. It's what everyone knows, OK? Everybody knows it. They pretend they don't. But they do."

Aggggh. Stop messing with me lady.

"It's simple," she said.

"It's simple?"

"Yeah. Just be honest."

"Honest?"

"Yeah. Just be honest. Honest! It's just that simple."

Then the Muse fell on her back and started kicking her legs in the air. Laughing her head off. Loud, unladylike horse laughs. Just be honest. That's the secret. Yeah.

Thanks, lady.


The Rural Purge

The "rural purge" of American television networks (in particular CBS) was a series of cancellations between 1969 and 1972 of still popular rural-themed shows with demographically skewed audiences.
--Wikipedia

EXT, ROAD, BEVERLY HILLS - DAY
Ellie Mae and Uncle Jed in the jalopy. Jed's driving. (Through scene, jalopy slowly accelerates.)

ELLIE MAE: How come Jethro ain't coming, Uncle Jed?

UNCLE JED: Another one of them auditions, I reckon.

ELLIE MAE: Slow down, Uncle Jed. Yer going awful fast.

UNCLE JED: That'd appear to be the problem, Ellie Mae.

ELLIE MAE: Who's Jethro playing?

UNCLE JED: Some fella named Moe Greene, I reckon.

INT, HOLLYWOOD STUDIO - DAY
Jethro emerges, wearing sunglasses.

JETHRO: I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Director! What here's my motivation and all?

VOICE: (OS) Taking a bullet through the eye.

EXT, HOLLYWOOD STUDIO - DAY

SOUND: Bang! (OS)

JETHRO: (OS) How'd I do?

SOUND: Thud! (OS)


EXT, ROAD, BEVERLY HILLS - DAY
The jalopy is tearing down the road, insanely fast.

ELLIE MAE: Put on the brakes, Uncle Jed!

UNCLE JED: I reckon there ain't no brakes, Ellie Mae.

ELLIE MAE: I reckon that ain't good.

UNCLE JED: I 'spect you're right, Ellie Mae. I 'spect you're right. Best commence to screaming.

They both start screaming. Simultaneously.

The jalopy crashes through a railing and into a ravine.

EXT, CLAMPETT SWIMMING POOL - DAY

GRANNY is cooking her "medicine" at the still.

GRANNY: Goldurn it. What's takin' em so long?

She hears Ellie Mae and Uncle Jed hollering (OS). Screams get louder and louder. Granny looks right. Left. Finally looks up. A shadow crosses her face.

GRANNY: Aw, heck.

Massive explosion.

INT, JAIL, MAYBERRY - DAY
Sheriff Andy Taylor is working at his desk.

DEPUTY BARNEY: (OS) Hey Andy, we got us a new prisoner.

SHERIFF ANDY: Well, bring him in, Barney. Don't keep our guest waiting.

Andy looks up and sees --

Barney walking in with the killer from "No Country for Old Men."

EXT, PETTICOAT JUNCTION - DAY
View of water tower by the railroad tracks. Three cute young women popping up at the top.

SINGER: (OS) Lots of curves, you bet. Even more when you get to the junction.

They duck back down.

SINGER: (OS) Petticoat Junction!

BETTY JO: (OS) Agggh! That's hydrochloric acid in there!

The water tower suddenly dissolves into pieces and crashes down. Right into the path of the oncoming --

Cannonball Express Train.

Which derails and thunders into --

THE SHADY REST HOTEL

Which shatters to flaming tinder, rolls down the hill and keeps going like some incendiary snowball from hell until it reaches the Main Street of --

HOOTERVILLE

Creating untold destruction and still --

Keeps going, in a massive avalanche of debris until it reaches the Main Street of --

GREEN ACRES

INT -- DOUGLAS HOME - DAY
Mr. Douglas wakes up in bed. Alone. Reacts to --

SOUND: (OS) Explosions. A series of shocks and aftershocks, fading like distant thunder.

OLIVER: What one earth was all that noise? Lisa! Lisa!

Gets out of bed. Looks out window.

Sees a distant curtain of flame. Debris is still raining down from the sky, clattering against the window glass.

OLIVER: My goodness. I'd better call the fire department!

Oliver runs through the house to reach the phone perched atop the telephone pole outside -- then does a double-take in the kitchen.

To Oliver's profound surprise, there's a brand new phone on the wall. Steel.

OLIVER: Well, I'll be. Alf and Ralph. They finally did it!

He picks up the phone.

EXT - DOUGLAS HOME - DAY
A violent electrical display crackles inside the house. It catches on fire.

EXT, LAKE TAHOE - TWILIGHT
Benji the dog is sitting in a boat holding a fishing rod in his mouth. A shadowy figure sits behind him.

EXT, SILVERMAN MANSION - TWILIGHT
Fred Silverman watches from the window.

Hears a GUNSHOT (OS)

Closes the curtains. 

"Godfather" theme fades in.


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Even robots get the blues

INT, FUTURISTIC SHOPPING MALL 

Sometime in the future. Hence, uh, futuristic. Anyway. 

A robot strides into the shopping mall. Carrying the kind of wicked-looking machine gun you’d expect to see on a helicopter gunship. A woman sees the robot and screams …


WOMAN: That robot! He’s got a gun!


People panic and run hollering in all directions. Away from the robot, that is.


ROBOT: Eh. Do not fear. According to the First Law of Robotics, “A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a …”


Robot doesn’t get to finish the sentence. Mall security guards blow him into metallic chunks.


ROBOT’S HEAD: Eh. This always. Happens. Damn. You. James. Cameron.


Its eyes glow red and fade out.

Monday, March 31, 2014

United States Air Force Nuclear Missile Program Exam 423

"Pencils down, please."
Attention! You will soon taking United States Air Force Nuclear Missile Program Exam 423. This is a timed test. (45 minutes.) You will be required to answer based on your own understanding and refrain from copying or cheating. (This includes copying your neighbor's answers and/or looking it up on Wikipedia.) Due to staffing constraints, this requirement is based on the honor system. At the sound of the bell you will begin. Begin!

1: ICBM stands for:
A) Intercontinental ballistic missile.
B) Idiopathic countrified bowel movement.
C) I cain't believe ma!

2: Two ICBMs are launched simultaneously from LaPuta and a United States submarine in the Atlantic Ocean at 0800 hours Pacific Standard Time. Coincidentally, each launch is 1,817 miles from target. Both missiles are traveling in suborbital trajectories for targets in the United States and Russia at a velocity of 6,000 miles per second. How long do you have to kiss your ass goodbye?

3: "Nuclear" is pronounced.
A) Nu-klee-er.
B) Nu-cu-lar.
C) Never. It shouldn't come up in conversation.

4: "Doctor Strangelove" is:
A) A documentary.
B)  Optimistic.
C) A real person.

5: Nuclear explosions are caused by:
A) Nukes. Exploding.
B) Stuff scientists do.
C) The rapid release of energy from a high-speed nuclear reaction. Like it says on Wikipedia.

6: In the event of DefCon 1:
A) Commanding and executive officer assigned to Launch Control Center will obey sealed authenticator system protocol without deviation.
B) Commanding and executive officer will push the big red button.
C) The jolly, candy-colored button.

7: Which post-apocalyptic scenario is most probable? 
A) "A Boy and His Dog." 
B) "The Road." 
C) All of the above.  

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Dear President Putin

Dear President Putin -- 

Or may I please be calling you Fearless Leader? Perhaps am jumping gun. Point to which I am getting now: Love your style baby! Is so 1980s like Billy Idol and Rubix cubes, so much fun, exception being made for falling Wall at the end. 

Now, am thinking Cold War is hot, hot, hot again. From this premise conclusion is made my services would be highly valuable to your extreme macho patriotic give-Mother-Russia-a-big-hug, the Bear is back, baby! way of doing things. Am (please be noting attached CV) highly experienced in bombs, sneaking around, wearing really cool hat and trench coat, and ruining day of Moose and Squirrel in America. With help from me, tragedy of Soviet Union will have happy ending, like Humpty Dumpty, only backwards. 

As wise saying goes, "You can't make an omelet without hiring Boris Badenov." (And Natasha Fatale, too of course. Always working as team for reasons of extreme personal loyalty, unless you don't want her, in which case I forget her.) I am always at your service and so forth and am eagerly awaiting your reply, when it is convenient to you of course. 

Your biggest fan -- 

-- Boris Badenov