OT: "Cap Slockman in the 21st Century" (Humor?)

greenspun.com : LUSENET : TimeBomb 2000 (Y2000) : One Thread

"Cap Slockman in the 21st Century" [Working titlesubject to revision]

[Scene I]: Establishing shot: Exterior of taxicab, extreme close-up of fire red rear center taillight. Pan out to reveal shadowy shape of a hatted figure through the windshield. Pan up and out further to reveal cab is heading toward a rather large airport. Pan up and out further to reveal jumbo jet on final descent.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: This is a tricky one-take establishing shot. Few directors can pull it off. May need CG?

Cue opening credits. Cut to interior of cab. Still in shadows, the shadowy figure pulls out his cell phone. Zoom in on cell phone to reveal that the "caller" is in fact logging on to the Internet. Zoom to the mini-keypad, and focus on the "Caps Lock" key as it is engaged. He emits a low, guttural laugh. Zoom out to reveal shadow of a conical shape. Cue musical intro.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: Music is haunting, suggesting evil incarnate. Perhaps Phillip Glass?

Cut to overhead shot of cab pulling up to the unloading zone. Man with briefcase exits, and we see the shadowy cone, clutched tightly, in tow. Cut to cabbie helping with bags. Close up of cabbies scowling expression as he gets stiffed.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: Its a bit part, but I envision Randall "Tex" Cobb as the cabbie. Is he available?

Tracking shot through terminal. Follow with hand-held from rear as "Cap" boards. Musical crescendo, then fade and credits end.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I envision a Tommy Lee Jones type as "Cap", but with a Dr. Evil/PeeWee Herman wardrobe. Must wear vile hatred as though a second skin. Wears a permanent scowl with his permanent press. Has aura of invincibility and authority, but his wardrobe offers insight as to his true inner geekiness and utter lack of self-awareness. Hes a true loose cannon.

Cut to steward, who offers to help with Caps luggage.

Steward [In a rather effeminate voice]: Need help with your bag, sir?

Cap [Zoom to the fire in eyes, which we now see for the first timethey are black as coal. Cut back to reveal clenched jaw and clenched fists. He raises a black megaphone.]: NO! CAN I HELP YOU WITH YOURS?!?!? [Cut to reveal his free hand reaching slowly for the stewards crotch]

Steward [Backs away, startled. Other passengers recoil in the background. All eyes have turned.]: Uh, enjoy your flight, sir. Let me know if I can be of service. [Turns and exits briskly.]

[Cap sits down and grins. Laughs to himself, and continues laughing through the remainder of the scene. He reaches for his laptop. Zoom in once again on the "Caps Lock" key, as the small, lime green light comes to life. He slowly closes his eyes and smiles broadly, revealing teeth in various stages of decay. Hes about to indulge himself yet again. ]

[End of Scene I.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), January 15, 2000


[Scene II]: Interior of large, metropolitan airport. Slowly pan and zoom in on Sadie Sanity, who nervously awaits Caps arrival.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I envision Cathy Bates as Sadie. If you prefer sexy, perhaps Carol Kane. Sadie is deranged, yet highly educated and lucid when on her medications, which are numerous.

Sadie is pacing, checking the arrival board. The planes on time. Any minute now, Cap will deplane, and they will meet for the first time. Prior to this meeting, their relationship has been strictly "virtual". She doesnt know what Cap looks like, but, at his request, she has adorned a khaki overcoat and a black baseball cap with "Semper Fidelis" and the USMC coat of arms boldly emblazoned on it. Shes happy to oblige his every whim, and her excitement is barely containable as she starts to chew her nails and pick her nose. Cut to extreme close-up as Sadie rehearses her greeting ("Hi Cap!") quietly to herself repeatedly. She wants to get it just right.

[End Scene II]

[Scene III]

Exterior helicopter shot of CIA HQ. Screen graphic gives date and time as well. Cut to interior shot of a windowless room buzzing with activity. Pan and zoom in on an open file folder with Caps picture stapled to the inside cover. The file is massive. Open boxes of doughnuts have been generously laid out for all. Zoom out to reveal a debriefing in session, led by Norton Hite, who prefers to be called simply "Ed".

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I picture Jeff Bridges or Billy Bob Thornton as "Ed". Intense and a bit eccentric, yet likable.

Ed: Yall know weve been tracking Cap for over 5 years now. We just burned another CD-ROM to add to his fileI believe that brings the count to twenty-seven, isnt that right, Diana?

Diana: Yup. We just ran out of letters, Ed. [Subdued laughter.]

Ed: I know most of you have only read the summary, so Ill try to bring you up to speed, and answer any of your questions. Heres what we know: Cap is, simply, a known threat. However, his activities for the past five years have been, strictly speaking, legal (as far as we can tell), and confined to the basement of his parents' home in Texas. Recently, however, Cap has emerged from his "cave".

Pan room to reveal raised eyebrows, looks of grave concern on all attendees. Their attention is piqued.

Ed: Some of you have already heard some rumors about Jan Gravy. Heres the facts, which are not to leave this room: Her well- publicized New Years Day flight was a disaster. She was seated next to Cap for over an hour. Our team was in place and aware of this, but considered the threat remote at best. Unfortunately, we couldnt hear their conversation.

Cut to disheveled agent with raised hand.

Ed: Please hold all questions until the end. I promise Ill answer them as best I can. Now, most of you know Jan, and her reasons for the flight. As head of FAA, her mission was well-defined and very public. The press was in tow, and the flight went off without a hitch. She hadnt expected Cap, however. To our knowledge, she hadnt heard of him prior to their rather, uh, unfortunate meeting.

Cut to Cap. The plane is in its final descent. He closes his laptop. Zoom in on his hands, which we now see are tatooed. They spell out S-A-T-A-N R-U-L-E-S. He clenches his fists. Camera stays focused on Cap's clenched fists, knuckles cracking, as Eds voice continues:

Upon disembarking, Jan was visibly shaken. However, she couldnt, or wouldnt, speak to our agents. She soon afterward quietly announced to her staff that she was taking some much-needed vacation time. That was three weeks ago. She hasnt been heard from since. We have a team devoted to her case, but all leads have turned up empty. We suspect Cap is responsible for her disappearance, but have yet to find solid evidence to charge him.

Nevertheless, our surveillance activities have increased, and his activity level has also increased. We suspect he is on to us, and he knows that we are on to him.

Cap rises and retrieves his overhead luggage. Cut to Sadie, who is shifting her weight anxiously, trying hard not to appear self- conscious.

He has conducted a five-year campaign of hate and suspected terrorist activities. He has constructed an elaborate front business and set up offshore accounts. He has created over fifty "personalities" in an attempt to distract us, and has won both admirers and enemies. Its all in the files for those who want some late night reading material. He is, in short, a time bomb.

Cap is making his way down the runway into the terminal.

He has now lured one Sadie Sanity into his web.

Sadie waits behind a crowd. She raises to her tiptoes, but doesnt want to appear too anxious.

She has lured him back out of his cave. This is our opportunity to nail the bastard. Lets not screw it up.

Cap spots her hat and smiles, careful not to reveal his teeth. His heart is racing.

Thats it, I guess. Questions?

[End of Scene III.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), January 21, 2000.

ROTFLMAO! Great casting! Keep it coming!!

-- have you sold (the book@rights.yet), January 21, 2000.

[Scene IV]: Exterior overhead shot of barn at night. Cue music. Camera slowly cranes down and goes through upper-level window, and hovers at rooftop level. A ring of fire comes into focus. Slowly zoom in to reveal a shadowy figure in a black, hooded robe. He is chanting. It is a young Cap.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: You may want to cast this role against type. Jonathan Taylor Thomas comes to mind, if his agent approves.

The sound of sheep and goats fades in. The rite of sacrifice is nearly complete. Zoom in on Caps hands (tattoos freshly minted) as he raises a scythe. Cut to exterior shot of barn. Pan out to reveal adjacent home. The sound of crickets drowns out the noise from the barn.

[End of Scene IV.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), January 28, 2000.

The voice of "Spot" and "Simba" needs to be preserved as a reminder of our innocence. Perhaps MacAuley Caulkin would be interested.

-- JTT's agent (let's@do.lunch), January 28, 2000.

I will be happy, however, to forward the complete script to Mr. Thomas for his perusal. Keep in mind that I shall advise against his taking the role.

BTW, you may want to retain your day job, as the saying goes. No offense, of course.

-- JTT's agent (never@burn.bridges), January 29, 2000.

Wonderful! When can we expect the whole screenplay? I'll go for pay-per-view on this one!

-- Steve Heller (stheller@koyote.com), January 29, 2000.

[Scene V]: Helicopter shot of Washington, taking in the White House and the Washington Monument. Fly over and pan to highway traffic. Zoom in to black SUV. Cut to Ed in drivers seat.

Ed: Despite our efforts, we know little about Caps early years. Medical personnel were mostly mum, although his birth certificate and his mothers death certificate offer some clues: The father is listed simply as "unknown", and the mother died during childbirth due to massive internal bleeding. We did get one orderly to talk to us, and discounted her story initially. No further medical records-

Agent #1: What story?

Ed: Well, its nuts.

Agent #2: Like Cap?

Ed: Yeah... Well, like I said, her account was noted but written off at first as preposterous. Later information caused us to revisit her.

Agent #3: Get to the point, Ed.

Cut to interior of dimly lit nursery. Overhead shot of solitary incubator. A team is frantically arguing about something.

Ed: Im trying to. She claims to have been sworn to secrecy about details, but she says she was "compelled" to tell us the "truth" as she witnessed it.

Slowly zoom down toward the incubator.

Ed: If her story has any credence, the wall of silence we ran into kinda makes sense.

Camera "breaks the glass".

Ed: She swore he was the son of the devil himself.

A very reddish baby is wrapped tightly, but two small, protruding points can be seen through the blanket.

[End Scene V.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 02, 2000.

[Scene VI]: Extreme close-up of Eds eyes in the rearview mirror as he takes note of the agents reactions. He is careful not to reveal his own feelings.

Ed: Theres one cruller left. Anyone else want it?

Ed surveys each agent individually via the mirror. Silence. Blank stares.

Ed: OK then, dont mind if I do...

Ed devours the pastry, and calmly awaits the inevitable questions. His attention is intentionally, if awkwardly, back on the donut and the road.

Agent #2: [As if awakening from a trance, deadpan]: Uh, so whats the Bureaus official stance?

Ed: [Pauses as he relishes the last of the cruller]: Agnostic. But we arent ruling out the possibility, given some recent evidence. Skim through the "Q" disc tonight if your interest has been piqued. If-and I stress the word if--theres any validity to these stories, our job gets much trickier, as you can imagine. [Pauses and looks in the mirror again to note reactions.]

All of you have sufficient clearance, and I cant stress enough that this info is "eyes only". Enough said? [Ed notes nods of assent from all.] Anyone want out? [Pause. Eyes darting in mirror. Silence.] Good.

Overhead shot of SUV as it pulls into the airport parking lot. Zoom down to closeups of all figures as they gather their luggage. Their eyes all share the same look of astonishment, and of a mission which suddenly is well-defined. Their breathing is clearly visible in the brisk air. They make their way to the terminals check-in counter.

[End Scene VI.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 03, 2000.

If you want contributions, just say so; I'd be happy to pitch in a few bucks to keep you going!

-- Steve Heller (stheller@koyote.com), February 03, 2000.

Steve: Patience. Contributions are kind, but not solicited nor needed. The story is complete, at least in outline form, in my busy little head. I will continue to post it in snippets when I am able and the muse strikes.

Care to guess the ending? (No, I won't tell you if you're right).

Nice to know I've got one gentle reader out there who "gets it". Thanks for the encouragement. 8^}

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 04, 2000.

Dear bored screenwriter,

I am amazed that you didn't get much response to this, it is hysterical! My only explantion for this is that you didn't give an intro to what you were doing, and the format of a screenplay is somewhat tedious to read (I suspect that I am not the only person here that has never seen one before, and it looked odd to me I'll admit). Therefore my guess is that most people couldn't figure out what you were doing because they didn't stay with it long enough to do so. The other explanation would be that if the reader didn't know about DeBonkers then it would be totally lost on them. Also, the title of the post doesn't grab the lurker's eye, it doesn't give any clue to the treasure hidden underneath it.

At any rate, keep the creative juices flowing, and no, I don't have a clue how it will end. Thanks for the entertainment.

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 04, 2000.

Susan: Thanks. I know the title stinks, and the format is challenging, but my intent was simply to poke some fun with some prominent "personalities" that I thought readers of this forum would recognize and appreciate.

Unfortunately, there seems to be a very small audience I'm writing to/for. Unless I get more requests to continue, I'm debating pulling the plug on this baby.

Shame. It's a dynamite story idea, with several plot twists yet to come. Anyone else interested in seeing this saga play out to its climax?

Lack of response will effectively kill the story (as I get bored easily, especially when I'm "playing to an empty house"). I'll simply sell the rights to the Heller family, and e-mail them the conclusion. 8^}

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 05, 2000.

Dear Just a Bored, I have really enjoyed reading this, and enjoy the format as well, its a movie for the mind, even if it never gets made into one. I hope you will finish it, it's very fun to read. Now you just need to add some characters who are so paranoid that they will never give their real names even to each other in their own category, fearing that there is a govt. snitch posing as a doomer...... and you should be able to get some good material from Indidel's last Ot Gun post. Then throw in some character from "unintended consequences" and one from the "Accidental Tourist" and you're cooking with gas.

I'll keep checking back here.

-- formerly (formerly@nowhere.zzz), February 05, 2000.

Hmmm, mom died in childbirth (certificate) dad unknown, yet lived in parents' basement. Wonder who adopted this demonic spawn? Does Reno_have a house in Texas?

-- Hokie (Hokie_@hotmail.com), February 05, 2000.

Aaaaaaa! We're dying laughing! Oouuuwwww! Oh, please don't stop, keep on, more more more more more more more!

-- LOLROTFLOLTWP (allaha@earthlink.net), February 05, 2000.

"Lack of response will effectively kill the story (as I get bored easily, especially when I'm "playing to an empty house")."

Keep it coming! You got me hanging now!

-- (oldtimer@lurking.here), February 05, 2000.

steve and sue heller- very weird...I just posted on humpty dumpty that maybe someone should start a screenplay...oooeeeaaaawwwooo! maddie

-- snikpoh (snikpoh@ecentral.com), February 05, 2000.

LOL... you have talent kid! Ya wanna do some internet scripting for the CI*... mumble, mumble?

In Special Ops?



-- Diane J. Squire (sacredspaces@yahoo.com), February 05, 2000.

just a bored,

...any similarity to real people is purely a coincidence...

Great stuff!! Please keep it coming.


-- Jimmy Splinters (inthe@dark.com), February 05, 2000.

just a bored --

do you have a real e-mail you could disclose? Mine's fake -- the real one is (removes mask hiding alter ego) rochsteinbach@excite.com

-- Squirrel Hunter (nuts@upina.cellrelaytower), February 05, 2000.

Thanks, all. Ill mull over revealing my identity. The saga continues:

[Scene VII.]: Extreme close-up of compact disc being fed into a laptop. The letter "Q", hand-written with black marker, is the only identifier on the label. Pan up and shift focus to screen, which now displays an unwieldy tree structure. Cut to shot of slightly trembling index finger manipulating track ball. Cut to extreme close- up of Agent #2s eyes, a mix of fear and anticipation, as he opens the first file. Cut to rear shot, showing that Agent #2 is seated in a comfortable leather chair of a chartered plane. Cut to screen:


NOTE TO DIRECTOR: Voice-over by Ed reading the file text. His tone is flat, his attitude matter-of-fact, matching his writing style and personality.

Cut to another extreme close-up of Agent #2s eyes. He begins reading at a furious pace. Dissolve to nursery from Scene V. The attending team is gesturing in obvious disagreement. Cue music.

Eds narration: Mother died of massive internal bleeding during childbirth. According to orderly "Z" (the only person whod speak to us, and who did so only on the condition she remain anonymous), none of the medical staff had ever seen anything quite like it, and argued about the cause of the hemorrhaging. The word "supernatural" was overheard by "Z", a deeply religious person, but in a context "Z" called "medical... not religious". Her attention was nonetheless drawn to the conversation.

Camera changes focus to background of nursery, where a black woman in pale blue scrubs, mopping the floor, suddenly raises her head. Her face is obscured by her mask, but her eyes convey her intelligence.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I picture Alfr e Woodard.

Cut to shot of two doctors and four nurses, as seen from Zs perspective. Sound fades in to argument in progress:

Doctor #1: What the hell do you mean "supernatural"?!

Doctor #2: Just that Ive never seen or read about anything like what we just saw. It's way beyond normal, you know?

Nurse #1: Yeah, and I'm sure none of us have seen anything like that, but look, were not to blame for her death. He is. [She points to incubator.]

Cut to reaction shot of Z. She momentarily ceases her mopping, straining to hear the conversation. Her eyes show she is both perplexed and intrigued.

[End Scene VII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 05, 2000.

I'm hooked!

-- doesn't get (any@better.than.this), February 06, 2000.

[Scene VIII]: Exterior overhead shot of house and barn from Scene IV. Daytime. Music continues, but mood slowly lightens as camera does long, very slow zoom toward screen door of house.

Eds narration: Z insists the death certificate was falsified, and all other medical records were destroyed. All personnel, she says, were sworn to secrecy. Our questioning confirms this. She took advantage of a long-standing friendship with one of the nurses, who confided with her the thoughts and actions of the OB team members.

Camera passes through the screen door. Dissolve to brightly lit kitchen. Z is sitting at the table with Nurse #3. They are enjoying iced tea, and are relaxed and smiling, and leaning towards each other across the table. They speak in hushed tones, aware that they are violating their oaths of secrecy.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I picture Winona Ryder as #3. She is extraordinarily strong and determined, yet fragile. Attractive, but not glamorous.

Nurse #3: He has rejected formula. Did you know that?

Z: No. So is he on an IV?

Nurse #3: No. Everyone was terrified at the prospect of sticking him. I mean, did you hear the sounds coming from that child? [Her smile quickly evaporates. Her lower lip starts to tremble.]

Z [Reaching for #3s hand, oozing concern.]: No, I wasnt there during the birth. Why?

Nurse #3: It was more beast than human... I cant describe it. [A look of terror overcomes her, and she begins to cry.]

Z [Rises to retrieve a box of Kleenex.]: Lets get some air, sweetie.

They both head outdoors. Cut to overhead shot of house, zoom out to reveal 400+ acres of isolated Texas farmland. Music fades out.

Eds narration: There was an initial fear in the first few days that Cap would die of malnourishment, as he refused all attempts at feeding.

Cut to nursery. Nurse #3 again tries unsuccessfully to get a bottle in Caps mouth. She keeps her distance from the infant, and her fear and scorn are apparent. Cap swats at the bottle and begins to wail.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: The sound crew can shoot for an Oscar if they get this one right. Let them have free reign in their attempt to create some movie magic. The sound should put a chill down the audiences spine.

The sound causes #3 to reflexively and instinctively pull back rapidly, and she drops the glass bottle. In her frantic attempt to clean up the mess, she cuts her finger. The wail stops as the baby smells her blood. #3 has stumbled onto a key discovery, and instantly offers her finger to an eager Cap. She is overcome by maternal instinct and picks him up and cradles him in her arms. A strange bond has formed.

Eds narration: Cap subsisted on nothing but blood for almost a year.

Cut to close-up of Agent #2s eyes. He has read enough for now. He closes his eyes, and wipes away a single tear.

[End of Scene VIII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 06, 2000.

I am getting anemic just reading this....

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 06, 2000.


-- whooooHoooo! (good@evening.!), February 07, 2000.

Hey, need my fix tonight :-)

-- then what happens? (come@on.more), February 07, 2000.

Oh my my my

hubby and the kids (3 teen boys) are upstairs watching the WWF once again

please please continue, I assure you I am more entertained by your wonderful originality than by any idiot box garbage.

>heavy sigh<


-- Laurie (laurelayn@yahoo.net), February 07, 2000.

Sorry, it's been a hectic day today. Will try to deliver new Scene(s) tomorrow. New character(s) to be introduced.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 07, 2000.

[Scene IX]: Close up of animated German Shepherd. His ears perk up at the sound of a ringing phone. He runs to answer it. Tag line added on bottom: Whether its the Rin Tin Tin Ding-a-Lingc. Split screen shows gorgeous Collie on the other line. Cue smooth saxophone riff. Both dogs are panting and barking now. Tag line: Or the Lassie Love Handled. Cut to announcer: "Weve got what your pets want. Pet telephones dot com."

Cut to shot of large warehouse, with 100 lb. bags of kitty litter prominently displayed. Announcer and tag line: "pettelephones.com knows what your pet wants!" Announcer only: From the mundane (Cut to 500 gallon aquarium filled with treasure chests and sand castles and a bubble-spewing underwater suit) to the exotic (Cut to shot of studded leather dog collars), we guarantee the lowest prices anywhere! (Cut back to announcer, with tag line "SAVE BIG $$$ GUARANTEED!!! PETTELEPHONES.COM!!!!") Check us out today!!!!! Thats pettelephones.com!!!! (Cut to screen divided into 16 small screens, with pets of all types, all giving a "thumbs up" sign and a wink). A phone continues to ring as screen dissolves.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: Try to get that guy from Penn & Teller. Great voice for goofy commercials. Either straight animation or computer is fine, as long as its schlocky.

Zoom out from TV screen. Phone continues to ring. Its the same ring from the commercial. CNBC is on, with the stock ticker crawling across the bottom of the screen. The sound fades out. A messy desk comes into focus, and an equally disheveled, rather large snoring figure looms over the desk, head cradled in arms. The phone rings louder now, and the figure awakens, startled. He checks his watch. It is Clement Peste, better known by his lifelong nickname of "Pooh".

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I picture Gary Busey, if hes still heavy, or if hes willing to put on weight for the role. Or perhaps Nick Nolte. Macho and villainous, but with an Achilles Heel.

Pooh: [Groggily, fumbling for a pen, to no one in particular.] : Damn, Im clever.

Cut to notepad. Zoom in to contents:








Pooh adds "PET TELEPHONES.COM" to the bottom of the list as he finally answers the cordless phone.

Pooh [Angrily.]: Yeah? [Cut to close-up of Poohs eyes, which suddenly turn to mush. Cut to rear shot of desk as Pooh collapses under his desk, and assumes a "duck and cover" position. His voice changes drastically as well, and has lost all hint of machismo. Cut to overhead shot of notepad. Zoom out to reveal the abandoned desk and chair, with Pooh's ass protruding.]

Oh, sorry Mistress Cherry... I deserve to be punished, dont I?

[End of Scene IX.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 10, 2000.

Sorry, the 'c' above was meant to be the copyright symbol, and the 'd' was supposed to be the trademark symbol. Hmmmmm. How do I get those to format properly?

-- just a bored semi-competent (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 10, 2000.

to the top...

-- Brooks (brooksbie@hotmail.com), February 10, 2000.

Just a Bored,

I love it! And hopefully you'll finish it. Because I'm your #1 fan right now and if you leave it unfinished, just don't go gettin' in a car accident 'round my parts... :)


The undersigned, Eve Rebekah Opleezdontsoome, has hereby notified you and all parties who read this post that, as it contains a smiley face at the end, it constitutes no threat upon the addressee of this post, therefore absolving her of any and all liability either from possible insinuations of a verbal threat in the general direction of said addressee or in the event any bodily injury or abduction of a serious, adverse nature should occur to said addressee in the near future. So there.

Over, Andover & Dover,


-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 10, 2000.

Opleezdontsoome: Please tell me you haven't seen or read Misery1. 8^}

Scene X to be posted before midnight Eastern time.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 10, 2000.

just a bored,
To get a copyright symbol, type the following: &copy;

To get a trademark, type the following: &#153;

To get a registered trademark, type the following: &reg;

If you require any other symbols to keep going, please don't hesitate to ask. 8^)

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 10, 2000.

[Scene X]: Shot of sign on glass of office door: PAUL E. SCHMUCK, MCSW. Cut to interior of tastefully decorated waiting room as door opens and Pooh walks nervously in.

Pooh [To receptionist, nervously, slouching]: I have an appointment with Doc Schmuck.

Receptionist: Name?

Pooh [Meekly, embarrassed]: Peste.

Receptionist [Finding name in book]: Fill out this, please. Ill let Mr. Schmuck know when youre done.

Pooh nods and grunts. He is starting to sweat. Cut to shot of Pooh returning his completed form. He is now sweating profusely.

Receptionist [Taking clipboard and noting his appearance, tactfully]: Are you OK? Can I get you a glass of water?

Pooh nods and grunts, turns and walks quickly back to his seat. He is starting to hyperventilate.

Receptionist [Quickly picking up phone, watching Pooh closely] : Mr. Peste is here. [Covers mouthpiece and whispers]: Make it quick. [Hangs up and tries to establish eye contact with Pooh, who now has his back turned and has buried his face in a magazine]: Mr. Schmuck will be right with you.

NOTE TO DIRECTOR: Why not play Schmuck yourself? Seems to be a minor trend amongst directors. Talk it over with the producer and work out the details if interested.

Schmuck shakes Poohs hand and escorts him into his office and motions for Pooh to have a seat in an oversized leather sofa. Schmuck notes Poohs discomfort and glandular state.

Schmuck [Softly, trying to establish eye contact]: What brings you here today?

Pooh [Sits down. Awkward pause, eyes on carpet]: A checkup, old scum?

Schmuck [Offers a box of Kleenex]: I beg your pardon?

Pooh: [Refuses offer, makes eye contact, proudly]: Do you like it? That was right off the top of my head!

Schmuck: I dont follow.

Pooh: Do you mind if I take some notes?

Schmuck [Slight nervous laughter]: I think Im supposed to say that... No, go right ahead.

Pooh [Removes notepad from inner coat pocket, writes "DOC PAUL E. SCHMUCK" on top]: I like your name... Poach duck muscle! [Writes it down]

Schmuck: I see. Mind if I take some notes as well?

Pooh: "Cock pud muscle... HA!!" -- much better! [Writes it down, then looks up briefly] No, go ahead... "A cock chump led us".

Schmuck [Taking furious notes]: May I ask what youre writing? Sounds a bit odd.

Pooh: Your name is much better than mine. "Cock head plus cum". [Writes it down, smiling broadly]. Lots of pornographic possibilities. Mines not nearly as rich.

Schmuck: Im sorry, Im afraid I still dont follow.

Pooh: "Male cock such pud". "A cock held cum, pus". Amazing, really, isnt it?

Schmuck: Please, I need to understand. Im afraid youve lost me completely.

Pooh: Im an anagram savant, I guess you could say... Its a strange compulsion of mine. Thats part of why Im here, I guess.

Schmuck: I see. And youre getting all of these from my name?

Pooh: Yeah. Cool, huh? So, do you hate your name as much as I hate mine? I mean, "Schmuck" just jumped out at me when I was looking up shrinks.

Schmuck [Tugging at collar slightly, but managing an awkward smile] : So you hate your name and you have an odd compulsion. What else brings you here, if anything?

Pooh: "Check loud campus". [Writes it down.] Boring... Well, I guess Im trying to not feel like a complete failure, know what I mean? [Stares at carpet again] Can I call you "Doc"?

Schmuck: Well, Im not a "shrink" per se, and I dont have my doctorate yet. I prefer Paul.

Pooh [Writing]: "Cop held a suckCUM!!" The imagery is great, isnt it?!

Schmuck [Getting irritated]: Look, Clement...

Pooh [Screams]: NOBODY calls me THAT!

Schmuck [Contrite]: Im terribly sorry... What do you prefer?

Pooh [Still defiant and angry]: "US DUEL COCK CHAMP"!! [Writes, looks up briefly, pleads forgiveness with a brief glance] Uh, Pooh is fine, Doc. Sorry. See? Im hopeless.

Schmuck [Composed]: Pooh, can you please put the notes away for a few minutes. Im afraid its a distraction.

Pooh obeys.

Schmuck: Thank you. Lets try again, shall we? Tell me more about why youre here, and how you think I might be able to help you.

Pooh: I think Im wasting my time. And yours. Sorry. [Grabs notebook and starts to rise] Besides, Cherrys the only one who understands.

Schmuck: Pooh, Im afraid weve gotten off to a poor start, but I wish youd consider staying. I would like to understand as well, if youd give me the opportunity.

Pooh [Indecision yields to defeat]: Ill think about it, maybe. [He is hyperventilating again] One more thing before I go, though [Stares intently and yells into Schmucks face]: "CUM COLD CASH PUKE"!!! [Exits. Cut to door as it opens and Pooh strolls out smiling broadly. He has won a brief victory of sorts. Change focus to Schmuck, who stands in the doorway dumbstruck. Cut to exterior shot of door. Poohs smile rapidly disappears and his posture slumps as he heads to the elevator.]

[End of Scene X.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 10, 2000.

struggling screewriter,

You might consider giving up your day job. Wonderfully done! Did you once post something using the nom de net of "depressed"? In any case, add me to your list of fans and please keep it coming.

-- (RUOK@yesiam.com), February 11, 2000.

Testing follows (Thanks for the tip, David): Rin Tin Tin Ding-a-Ling©
Lassie Love Handle™

RUOK: Thanks. The answer is no.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 11, 2000.


-- gasp (hold@onto.handle), February 11, 2000.

Just a Bored,

Now, I ain't no prude, but...you're kinda startin' to edge a little to that precipice, if ya know what I mean...you don't need to resort to that stuff...you're too good.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 11, 2000.

Uh oh. My "#1 fan" is turning on me. Looks like she has seen Misery. Perhaps I should get outta here whilst I can. I'm losing my audience after only ten scenes... 8^{

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 11, 2000.

My dear "fan" eve: Forgive me if I have offended you. My tale is not for the timid--that should have been clear from the getgo.

Perhaps you misunderstood my intent, or my skewering of "Schmuck" (and other characters) is lost on you. If that is the case, so be it.

-- just a bored and only semi-apologetic (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 11, 2000.

Just a bored,

You have nothing to apologize for, you are merely offering fictional characters whose real-life counterparts (whoever they might be ;-D) are equally disgusting. Your insight into human character is flawless. Your audience awaits your genius, please continue. BTW, are you British?

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 12, 2000.

Susan: Thanx. No, I'm a Yank. What made you think I was a Brit?

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 12, 2000.

Just a Bored,

I agree with Susan in the way that you really have nothing to apologize for. And given your screenplay as a whole so far, I'd like you to keep going -- I do think it's a very entertaining read. It's just that, not knowing you I didn't know where you were going to take this and the last scene kind of surprised me and made me a little edgy.

And I'd like to think I'm still your #1 fan, although it looks like I'm going to get a lot of competition from Susan, above. So, keep pluggin' away -- I'm still with ya! And, you know what -- please don't change anything for me or anyone else, for that matter -- follow your heart on this thing. I'm very interested in seeing where this is going to go.

-- eve (eve_rebakah@yahoo.com), February 12, 2000.


You did make some very nice observations.

Just A Bored,

In retrospect, I think I just should have clammed up until your work was finished. So if any apology is in order it really should be from me. I therefore apologize for my premature criticism.

Now, please get some coffee and hit the keyboard! The waiting is starting to get rather difficult...:)

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 12, 2000.

Just a Bored,

Gawd, why can't I do this with just one post?

Anyway, I forgot to mention that I did understand your intent and what you were trying to do with the characters; If I hadn't I don't think I would be half as interested as I am. Maybe before I thought the one scene went on a little too long. But, pay that no mind -- write where the muse will take thee...

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 12, 2000.

Just a bored,

I thought maybe your were British because of this statement-"Perhaps I should get outta here whilst I can.". I have never heard an American say the word "whilst", well, at least not around these parts in Texas. But I know that the British still use that word and therefore I was just wondering. Maybe you have been reading too many English plays.:-)

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 12, 2000.

eve: Apology heartily accepted. A caution that you may be offended by future material, however. Susan: I've never said "whilst", only written it. My writing style incorporates both the formal and the colloquial. I'm comfortable in either realm, and find a dollup of both refreshing. 8^}

To all: not sure when I'll publish Scene XI et al--my schedule is rather hectic these days. However, I promise at least 2-3 scenes per week. I'd do more if I had the time. Patience is a virtue. =|8^}-- >

I must admit to a rather keen disappointment that my "fans" seem to have dwindled to eve and Susan. 8^{

-- just a busy yet still bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 13, 2000.

It's not just eve and Susan; I'm still waiting for the next scene too!

-- Steve Heller (steve@steveheller.com), February 13, 2000.

Struggling Screenwriter Wannabe,

Don't you dare think you have a limited audience! I'd dare say that a large portion of your readers are so busy wiping the tears of laughter streaming down their cheeks, they're unable to type "Bravo!"

-- Keep them coming (laughter@isgood.forthesoul), February 13, 2000.

MORE !!!!!

-- Ashton & Leska in Cascadia (allaha@earthlink.net), February 13, 2000.

Just a bored,

Just between you and me, I think Steve is your biggest fan. One late night some weeks ago, I heard him laughing so hard I couldn't imagine what was going on. He told me to go read this thread, it was then I was hooked.

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 14, 2000.

Just a bored,

Please don't worry about offending me. I think I've given you the impression that I'm easily offended, which really isn't the case. If you have more scenes like the other one, or even further down that path, I would wait and judge the work as a whole, after it's finished. And, even if it had some "offensive" scenes, but overall it's a great work, then that's what counts. By the way, to really offend me, the "offensive" parts would also have to be pointless, dull, have nothing to do with the plot or character development, etc. etc. And even if you failed all these parameters and offended me, that would not affect the respect I have for your wonderful talents.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 14, 2000.

Just a bored,
The answer from Keep them coming is on the money.

P.S. - When is the Initial Public Offering of Pettelephones.com? The Securities and Exchange Commission will not divulge this.

P.P.S. - Remind me not to challenge you at Scrabble®.

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 14, 2000.

"Cap Slockman in the 21st Century"

Geezzz... How did I miss this?.... Must have been busy :-)

BRAVO !!!!!!!

-- Casper (c@no.yr), February 14, 2000.

David: The IPO depends on Pooh's ability to transform his dream into reality. Stay tuned.

Pity about the Scrabble match. I'm always looking for worthy opponents. 8^}

Rest: Thanks once again. It helps to hear from others who enjoy a good tale. Scene XI to be published by tomorrow midnight EST, barring unforeseen developments.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 15, 2000.

Just a bored,

Hey, I'll challenge you to Scrabble.

Ok, I've drawn seven tiles completely at random...hmmm...ok. Well, whaddya know! I'll play "quartz". So, that's a 10-point "z" on the double letter score, 8 points for the q...1 point each for the rest and a double word score because I was the first to move.

So, I've got...let's see...yadda, yadda, mumble...carry the one... 64 points.

Your move.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 15, 2000.

eve: You're obviously a Screwbie (patent pending). Any long-time player knows the 'Q' is worth nine points. 8^}

-- just a bored scrabble master and (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 15, 2000.

Now thizziz how dey hook ya -- start out with lotsa scenes and long gut-busting posts, getcha all intrigued, clicking for more, then backing off, promising dribbles every few days, leaving ya high 'n dry, and ready to shoooooooot ...

And he lusts after a King-like fan club ...

-- uptight (and@demanding.more!), February 15, 2000.

uptight: Just for you, Scene XI to be posted by 3 pm EST (I'll work through my lunch). Putting finishing touches on it now, but, to quote the "cleaner" in Toy Story 2, "You can't rush art" (spoken with the same gravelly voice, natch).

-- just a slave wordsmith but still a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 15, 2000.

Just a bored scrabble master and,

I knew that! Yeah...I was...I was just...testin' ya! That's right! That's the ticket! Testin' ya. :)

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 15, 2000.

Screwbie. ROTFLMAO!!

Eve, if your "r" was produced using a blank tile, you could have emptied your tray with "quetzal" (a word I've known for at least the last five minutes).

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 15, 2000.


Ok, ok, so I coulda used the blank for an"E". But how did you know I had an "L"? Did you look?

And I thought "Screwbie" sounded like an endearing term. I just pictured it being said with a respectful, softly modulated intonation. Besides, I'm kind of honored that he/she couldn't wait to use it on me even before the patent was issued. :)

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 15, 2000.

[Scene XI]: Extreme close-up of disc "Q" as it is being fed once again into #2's laptop. The "Q" is upside-down. Cut to extreme close- up of #2's eyes, full of trepidation. Cut to tight shot of the "Q", which has morphed into a red outline of a face with a single horn protruding. Cut back to #2's eyes, now being wiped by his fingers. Cut to full head shot. He shakes his head slightly, glances around him briefly, and continues. Camera scrolls down screen contents, mimicking #2's eye movements. Cut to shot of #2's index finger, trembling now more noticeably than in Scene VII, on trackball. Double- click.

Cut to screen, which opens to the top of a document entitled "ANATOMICAL ANOMALIES". Ed's narration continues. Cut to #2's eyes, which resume reading at a frantic pace. Cue music.

Ed [Still deadpan]: The following information was also obtained from interviews with "Z". No corroborating evidence could be found.

Dissolve to overhead shot of large, oval mahogany desk. The six members of the OB team, along with the hospital's president and its chief attorney, are having a heated debate.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: These are all bit roles, so feel free to utilize central casting for budgetary purposes. The president is in his 60's, the rest are in their 30's and 40's.

Doctor #1 [Angrily]: They've got to be excised! I can't believe we're even debating this! [Pounds the desk for emphasis.]

Attorney [Calmly but quickly]: I think there's consensus on that point, Doctor. The issue, of course, is risk.

Doctor #2 [Exuding confidence bordering on arrogance]: Given that there's no real precedent that I'm aware of, it's hard to quantify the risks, but I'm certain the procedure is survivable given adequate staffing and precautions.

President [Sternly]: The staffing issue is a concern, and I hope y'all know [Cut to head shot, as he looks around table, glancing at every member individually] that is in no way a reflection of the abilities of those present, but rather an understanding that no one can be brought in from outside. Secrecy remains paramount.

Cut to overhead shot of all heads nodding. Cut to head shot of Nurse #3.

Nurse #3 [Nervously]: I know the hospital feels vulnerable here, but it seems to me that I'm the one who's taken him in, and that the decision should be mine alone.

Cut to Nurse #4, leaning forward, about to interject.

Nurse #3 [Looking at #4, with hand raised, palm outward]: Let me finish, please Cut to #4, who resumes her upright position, ceding for the moment Look, this has been hard for everybody, and y'all know I truly appreciate everything that's been done for me and the baby

Lengthy pause as #3 collects her thoughts. All eyes are riveted on her decision.

Nurse #3 [Determined]: Look, they're dangerous--they killed the mother, for God's sake--they scare the hell out of me, and he simply can't be seen in public as is, so they've got to go. Same for the tail, of course [Pauses. Awkward silence. She stares blankly at the oval table, and her fingers start to trace the grain of the wood.]

President [Shifting attention from #3 to the rest of the room] : Any objections? Pause. Silence. OK, then, tomorrow morning work for everybody? Nods all around. Good, 7 sharp then. We're adjourned.

Cut to overhead shot as all rise. A circle is formed around Nurse #3, as everyone offers their reassurance and comfort. Cut to exterior overhead shot of hospital.

Ed's narration: Unfortunately, the operation was only a partial success.

Cut to close-up of #2's eyes, as he scans for more information. There is none to be found. His brows are furrowed.

[End of Scene XI.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 15, 2000.

Partial? ? You mean he must have some "distinguishing characteristics" leftover somewhere. Hhhhhmmmm

Good, good, MORE!

Listen, we have a soft heart, and we're startin to get worried about LL ...

-- Ashton & Leska in Cascadia (allaha@earthlink.net), February 15, 2000.

just a bored: way to meet a deadline! I guess that skill must go with the territory.

eve: indeed it is an honor to be original "screwbie." For some reason that term just bore into my funny bone. No slight was intended.

Also, I have way too much integrity to peek at someone's letters. I was gambling that your unknown tile was either "e" or "l" (about a 20% shot). Guess I've seen The Hunt for Red October a few times too many.

A&L: compassion is admirable, but let's not go overboard.

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 15, 2000.


I knew you never intended a slight with the "Screwbie" thing. We're cool.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 15, 2000.

I'll play "quizmasterings" across the top of the board. I think it counts for about 1000 points.

-- Steve Heller (steve@steveheller.com), February 16, 2000.

Good one, Steve. I fold.

Now, how about some chess?

1. P-K4.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 16, 2000.

Eve: I cannot resist a game of chess. 1...P-QB4. (If you would like to continue the game, we probably ought to either start our own thread (a bit off topic) or correspond by email - my address is real.)

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 16, 2000.


Did you know that a team of grandmasters working with super-computers arrived at the conclusion that if white plays perfectly, he/she will have a forced win in about 40 moves?

Given that, I'll allow you the chance to resign honorably now. :)

If not, e-mail would be cool. I'll try to get a move to you by this evening or tomorrow.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 16, 2000.

eve: You're right about White winning with perfect play, but that's only by starting with 1.P-Q4. Since you missed this opportunity, I'll not resign just yet. 8^))))))))))))))))))

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 16, 2000.

Well, it would appear that I've (once again?) lost the attention of my audience... 8^{

-- just a bored and a bit peeved (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 16, 2000.

bored, I certainly haven't lost interest. This evening I reread the screenplay from the top, and enjoyed it even more than on first reading.

It seems that you regard some of the answers on this thread as a form of desecration. As I see it, every answer helps keep this thread at the top.

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 16, 2000.

"Desecration" is much too harsh. After all, I've participated in much of the between-scene bantering.

But a chess match? Boring!!


-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 16, 2000.

[Scene XII]: Exterior crane shot of crowded trailer park. Clotheslines are strung haphazardly. Its a sunny day, and children are running throughout the park, screaming. Slowly zoom in on lone pink trailer. Cut to interior of trailer. Cluttered newspapers are everywhere. Focus on calico cat, which is busy cleaning itself on what appears to be the living room sofa. A small hand brushes the cat away gently. A 13" TV is showing cartoons in the background. Cut to 8- year old girl in ponytails.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: Cast an unknown as Sunshine. Wise beyond her years.

Sunshine [Loudly, whining]: Ma, whats for dinner?!

Cherry [Offscreen, yelling angrily]: Why dont you look in the damn freezer? Besides, aint it your turn?

[She enters from the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel. She is wearing only a revealing pink "Winnie the Pooh"© thigh-length nightshirt.]

NOTE TO PRODUCER: I picture Jul ianna Margulies as Cherry. I think shes available.

NOTE TO PRODUCER: Do we need to get rights from Disney? I doubt theyll want to be associated with this character or this film, but Poohs image is needed. Check with legal about bypassing Eisners henchmen. Theyre bloodsuckers.

Cut to Sunshine, now rummaging through the freezer, scowling

Sunshine: Pizza alright? With those shoestring taters?

Cherry: Fine, Sunshine. [Softer]: I guess Ill set the table, OK?

Cherrys beeper goes off. Cut to close-up of Cherry. She smiles at her daughter, and raises both arms over her head.

Cherry: Its showtime!!

Sunshine [Excitedly]: Can I see who it is, Momma?

Cherry [Removing towel and drying her hair vigorously]: Of course, hon.

Cut to close-up of Sunshine as she reaches into Cherrys purse and pulls out the beeper. She glances at the display and smiles. Cut to two shot as they exchange a knowing glance.

Both [Grinning from ear to ear now]: TART!

Sunshine [Runs up to Cherry, hugs her at the waist, and kisses Poohs likeness]: Its Pooh, Pooh!!

Cherry [Stroking Sunshines hair]: Put dinner in the oven, hon. Then gimme a little privacy, OK? In a few more months, Poohs gonna get us out of this place, I promise.

Sunshine shoves two trays into the oven, sets a timer, and runs out the door. Cherry watches her from the doorway, smiling. Cut to close-up as her expression suddenly changes. She is getting into character now. Shes about to castrate Pooh for the 263rd time, at $200/hour. "Cherry Tart" is her dominatrix codename, reserved especially for Pooh.

Cut to Pooh, who is prostrate on his office floor, writing in his notepad. Zoom in on notepad:





MATTRESS STIR, HER CRY (She might like this one?)




Pooh is studying this last entry.

Pooh [Staring at the phone, feigning anger]: Whats taking you so long, bitch?

The phone rings. He crosses off his latest entry, pushes aside the pad, slaps himself hard across his cheek, and slides into his more familiar voice and position, his ass akimbo.

Pooh: Ive been a bad boy, Mistress Cherry.

[End of Scene XII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 17, 2000.

Just a bored,

No, no, no! I'm still very interested; just a little between-the-scenes banter and chess.

I mean, if we didn't talk, I'd be reduced to posting something like the following, just to let you know I'm still here:

"(eve, shifting in her seat for the eighty-sixth time in the past six-and-a-half hours, starts to nod off yet again, slowly sliding off the chair, then awakes with a start, slowly rises to an upright position, and inconspicuously, she hopes, shifts her eyes around, keeping her head still, to see if anyone's noticed)"

You know, I brought along a pocket chess set because it's an entire day between scenes! And I got lucky because this nice gentleman sitting next to me happens to like to play. What else do you expect us to do? The popcorn is too expensive and there's only so many times you can go to the rest room...... :-)))))))

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 17, 2000.

[Scene XIII]: Fade to white. Cue haunting music. A fly comes into focus, landing on a white wall. A mumbling female voice fades in. Pan down to overhead view of a gagged and straightjacketed woman. The camera gives the illusion that the room is spinning.

Woman [Getting louder, but still incoherent, her face obstructed by her stringy, unwashed hair]: NNN SSST AYE!!!

Cut to black and white security camera monitor, which is capturing her outburst. Pull back to see rear view of guard, who is watching with only passing interest.

Voice of guard: Shes still going at it, Zeke.

Womans voice [Muffled further by the poor speakers on the monitors]: TNN SST AY!!!

Zeke [Off camera, leaning in to inspect the monitor more closely, pointing at the floor on the screen]: Do you see that?

The white floor is suddenly sprouting small, dark circles.

Zeke [To the other guard, loudly]: Damn, thats blood! Get the Doc, NOW!

Cut to interior of padded cell. Cut to extreme close-up of the womans gag--blood is streaming down her chin now, and she is thrashing wildly. Her voice is becoming more clear and loud. The drugs are wearing off.


Cut to shot of door opening quickly, as four medical personnel surround her. The first two restrain all movement, as the third rips off her gag. The fourth administers a shot through the jacket into her upper arm. Blood comes streaming out of her mouthshe has bitten the insides of her cheeks. Cut to extreme close-up of her eyes, which are wide and focused, yet clearly disturbed.

Woman [Loudly and clearly]: SATAN MUST DIE!! [Looking now at each of the four men around her]: SATAN...MUST... DIE!!!!!

Her eyes glaze and her voice fades as the drugs take hold. She offers no resistance as she is dragged out of the room, leaving a red trail at her feet. Lights and music fade to black.

[End of Scene XIII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 17, 2000.

[Scene XIV]: Agent #2 turns off his laptop, his index finger shaking. He surveys the other agents, most of whom are also busy reading. He rises and approaches Ed, who is fast asleep and snoring. He kneels down and gently taps on Eds shoulder.

Ed [Groggy, eyes still closed]: ...and two honey-glazed, please...

Agent #2 [Smiling and poking]: Is that to go?

Ed [Eyes opening and smiling, wiping a spot of drool]: Hi, whats up?

Agent #2: Sorry to wake you. Sounds like you were having a great dream...

Cut to Ed, who looks a bit puzzled. He straightens up in his seat.

Ed: No problem. Question?

Agent #2: Yeah... What does "the operation was only a partial success" mean?

Ed [Still puzzled]: Huh? Oh, you mustve been reading "Q". Sorry. Ive been meaning to update and cross-reference, but there simply hasnt been time, and its been pretty hectic the last few weeks...

A bell rings. The intercom is turned on.

Pilots voice: We are about to make our final descent. Please fasten your seat belts and turn off all electronic equipment. Estimated arrival in ten minutes. Local temperature is 25 degrees. Thank you and good luck.

#2 makes way back toward seat, but is still looking at Ed, expecting an answer.

Ed: When we land, well debrief and Ill take some questions... [Quietly]: You OK? You look a bit shaken.

Agent #2 [Seated]: Yeah... Thanks.

He glances around, embarrassed that the others may have heard Eds question. He closes his eyes and gathers his thoughts.

[End of Scene XIV.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 17, 2000.

[Scene XV]: Close up of computer screen. A private chat session is in progress. Slowly pull camera back to reveal rear view of Sadie, nude save for her bunny slippers. Four lava lamps of varying hues adorn the shelves of her otherwise plain credenza. Speed metal blares in the background. The lyrics are unintelligible, but Sadie is singing along nonetheless, her head bouncing in rhythm with the drumbeat. She is typing in rhythm as well, in rapid bursts. Cut to close-up of her eyes, which reflect the glare of the screen. They, like the rest of her body, are manically busy. The camera now slowly starts spinning around her, as we "read" her words to Cap:

Voice of Sadie [Bouncy, breathy, lustful]: I know you dont believe me, but Im a virgin. Honest.

Cut to close-up of Sadie in airport as Cap approaches. Everything is now in slow-motion.

Voice of Sadie: You can change that. We could meet, you know. Id like that, wouldnt you?

Cut to close-up of Cap, approaching her with a controlled smile.

Voice of Sadie: Id let you do anything you want to me. I trust you completely.

Cut to close-up of Sadie as she returns a smile.

Voice of Cap [Subdued by Sadies spell, yet in total control]: You may regret that.

Cut to close-up of Cap as his teeth are bared.

Voice of Sadie [Entranced by Caps spell]: Oooh, I love danger.

Cut to extreme close-up of Sadies eyes as they see Caps teeth. Her fear is fleeting but unmistakable, even in the shadow of her baseball cap.

The camera shifts focus to the crowd behind Sadie, and the announcement of departures and arrivals brings us back up to speed.

Ed is enjoying a chocolate doughnut and watching.

[End of Scene XV.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 18, 2000.

Well, you've met most of the characters (all of the main ones). I think you probably know where the story's going (or not).

I'd like to solicit ideas on a new and improved title for this little project. Any suggestions? All other feedback is welcome as well. 8^}

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 18, 2000.

How about using a quote from the dialogue, as a title. Two ideas, "Emerging from His Cave" and "More Beast than Human."

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 18, 2000.

Our compassion has been "cured." Bring it on, NOT bored!

-- Ashton & Leska in Cascadia (allaha@earthlink.net), February 18, 2000.

David: Great suggestions, and either choice is a vast improvement. Any other ideas?

C'mon, this should be the easiest part of creative writing. My title, frankly, sucks. The entry chosen will get to share screenwriting credits and royalties. 8^}

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 18, 2000.

How about "Lost in Bonkers"?

-- Steve Heller (steve@steveheller.com), February 18, 2000.

"Doughnuts and Demons"?

-- a good title (is@every.thing), February 18, 2000.

Keep the suggestions coming.

[Scene XVI]: Overhead shot of Pooh. His pants and boxers are around his ankles, his shirt has been thrown aside. He is lying spent on his side, eyes closed and smiling broadly. His belly is protruding from his stained undershirt, and heaving with every deep breath.

Pooh [Meekly]: Mistress?

Cut to extreme close-up of Cherrys lips. The wand microphone from her headset reflects in the sunlight from the trailer's small window.

Cherry [Sternly]: What is it, Pest?

Cut to close-up of Poohs face. He cringes with delight at the harsh sound of his name.

Pooh [Begging]: Can I request a call from Blossom later? Please? I really need to talk to her.

He closes his eyes in anticipation of her reply. Cut to Cherrys lips.

Cherry [A hint of a smile forms, but her voice doesnt waver]: You know the procedure, Pest. Ta-ta from Tart.

Cut to head shot as she disconnects the line abruptly. She checks her watch, removes her headset, checks the oven and opens the trailer door. The influx of sunlight causes her to squint and shield her eyes. Sunshine is out of sight, but her squeals of joy are nearby.

Cherry [Poking head out door, loudly]: Dinnertime, hon.

[End of Scene XVI.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 19, 2000.

Great! Keep 'em coming! (so to speak)

Another title suggestion: Nuts and Sluts in Cyberspace

-- Steve Heller (steve@steveheller.com), February 19, 2000.

Steve: The "Nuts and Sluts" part works for me--tinker with that a bit.

[Scene XVII]: Tracking shot of Pooh in his pale blue, rusting 66 Impala. Despite his inherited wealth, it is the only car he has ever owned. His attention is divided as he enters a series of numbers on his cell phone. Cut to interior of car. Fast-food wrappers litter the front seat.

Pooh [Talking to himself, but holding phone to ear so as to not draw any stares from passersby]: Blossom, youre gonna love this idea. Tart wouldnt give it a prayer, but what does she know?

He puts the phone down as his message has been sent. He resumes, oblivious to appearances now.

Pooh [Delivering a quick, emasculating palm slap to forehead]: What am I saying?! She knows Im a failure! Who am I trying to kid?!

Cut to Poohs POV through windshield. He has just run a stop sign. Cut to Pooh, who is unaware of his transgression.

Pooh [Shaking head vigorously and pounding the steering wheel] : God, listen to yourself! Blossom... Shell love it... I know she will... Well, I know Momma wouldve liked it... [Angrily]: She loved her damn animals more than me, fer Chrissakes...

He glances upward briefly and chokes back a tear. Cut to exterior shot as he pulls into his driveway.

Pooh [Turns off ignition. Grabs cell phone and opens squeaky car door. Glancing skyward once more]: Rest in peace, Momma. Ill make you proud someday...

He opens the door to his home and enters his cluttered living room. He collapses into his recliner and reaches for the remote control and his notepad.

Pooh [Relaxed now in his chair, but edgily]: Dont keep me waiting, Sweet Cherry Blossom.

Cut to notepad as Pooh flips to new page and writes SWEET CHERRY BLOSSOM at the top.

[End of Scene XVII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 20, 2000.

[Scene XVIII]: Cherry kisses Sunshine and turns out the light. Her beeper, now in vibrate mode, activates again. She reads the display, even though she knows its Pooh. She buries her anger and saves it for Tart to use another day. She slides into Blossoms character and puts on her headset. She hits the speed dial and lays down on the sofa. The calico joins her.

Cherry [Softly, sweetly]: Its Blossom, Pooh. Sorry about the wait.

Cut to Pooh, in bed now, as he grabs the notepad from his nightstand. He turns on his reading light and grabs his pen.

Pooh: Uh, thats OK. You know I cant stay angry at you... Waitings hard, though...

Cherry [Apologetic]: I know. Im here now. Talk to me.

Cut to close-up of notepad. Pooh is inspecting the list, searching for inspiration, a place to sort out his tangled thoughts. He pauses, drawn again to his past hours effort:



SHOW CRY, ELSE BE STORM (Let it out!!)






Cherry [Concerned]: You can talk to me, hon. What are you thinking?

Pooh [Stammering]: I... I dont know... Its been hectic... I... Im having a hard time thinking...

Cherry [Checks watch, a bit impatiently]: Are you up to your silly word games again?

Pooh [Hurt; restrained anger]: Theyre not "silly". You know I cant help it...

Cherry: Im sorry. So, do you want to share something with me?

Pooh: Maybe later... Well, actually, I did want to tell you about one I had in a dream the other night...

Cherry: I love your dreams. You know I do...

Pooh describes his dream. He is animated. Cherry is smiling. She lights a cigarette. Dissolve to shot of butt being extinguished.

Pooh: What do you think? Be honest.

Cherry: Im always honest with you, Pooh, you know that.

Pooh: I know... But do you think itd work?

Cherry: Are you serious?

Pooh: Arent I always?

Cherry: Yeah... [Laughs]: Thats part of your problem, you know... Well, its a great dream, pretty creative, even if its a word game...

Pooh: Anagram.

Cherry: Yeah... Not a bad business idea, either, but Im not sure its original... Youve never done e-business, have you?

Pooh [Dejected]: No... But everyones doing it, how hard can it be?

Cherry: I guess thats up to you to find out, if thats what you want to do...

Pooh [Excitedly]: Do you think itd work?

Cherry: Itd work, sure, if you do it well. Are you willing to tough it out, do the work?

Pooh [Shrugs, becomes indifferent]: I dunno. I guess... Its just that, you know, Im like the anti-Midas or something...

Cherry: So you stop trying for fear of failing again?

Pooh: Yeah...

Cherry: What do you want from me, Pooh? I cant give you what you dont have...

Poohs eyes widen. She has opened the door. He wasnt going to let it close this time. Hed tell her about Doc Schmuck another time...

[End of Scene XVIII.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 20, 2000.

Keep up the good work. The suspense is killing me!

-- Steve Heller (steve@steveheller.com), February 21, 2000.

We are still with you, keep it up! Can we invest in the production? I think you have an Academy Award in the making here.

"And now, the winner for Best Screenwriting goes to....Just a Bored!" (Wild clapping)

I think you will at that time have to reveal your real name. Or, you could be known as "The Artist Formerly Known as Just a Bored".

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 21, 2000.

Oh where, oh where have my dear readers gone? Oh where oh where can they be?

(The Hellers get a free pass.)

-- just a bored and lonely (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 22, 2000.

just a bored and lonely,

I'm still here and very interested. But I was also quietly reflecting on one minor aspect of your work that has recently kind of haunted me. Just know that it's not really related to the other issue I brought up. But, I can't talk about it, as I promised before I wouldn't. And the only reason I even hinted at it here is that you wanted to know where we were, and you deserved at least some explanation as to why I sort of faded into the background for the moment.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 22, 2000.

eve: Nice to hear from you again. My intent was never to censor or silence you.

"Haunting"? My curiosity is definitely piqued.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 22, 2000.

just a bored,

I understand it was never your intent to censor or silence me. It was completely self-imposed.

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 22, 2000.

Just a bored,

Just a thought....I think your most recent posts came during the latest spam attack by Sa.., um, I mean, LL. I think this thread may have gotten caught up in the confusion and distraction during this time. If it pleases you to continue this story, then maybe in the future you will hold off in your new posts if there are similar tirades in progress at the time. You deserve our undivided attention, and I am afraid that you-know-who is quite successful at what she does.

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 22, 2000.

Truth is indeed stranger than fiction...

Keep it coming, master storyteller, your salivating public awaits!

-- closet screenwriter fan (delurking@for.now), February 23, 2000.

Scene XIX is rather long, and will be delivered in two or more parts. Self-imposed "deadline" of midnight EST for Part One.

Oh, and Hi Laura. Did you know you're one of my muses? 8^}

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

One of your muses?? I thought I was the only one!

-- (.....@........), February 23, 2000.

Italics off. Now ready to receive Scene XIX.

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 23, 2000.

SYSOPS: Dare I ask why a copy of Laura's post and my one sentence message to one of my muses were both deleted? 8^{

-- just a bored but free speech lovin' (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

Software's actin' goofy (or I'm seein' things). Now my post is back but another one got the ax. Odd. 8^?

-- just a bored and confused (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

Well, well. I just went out for a stroll, and lookee here what I stumble upon.

Imagination. Intrigue. Sex. Popcorn. (and, and , ...... is that bourbon?)

I'll just take a seat here in the back, if I may.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), February 23, 2000.

Hi, Lon, and welcome to my "workshop". [Pouring a tall shot of bourbon.] Enjoying your stay so far? 8^}

-- just a bored bartender on the side and a (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

Oh yeah, j-a-b, I am enjoying it.

I think you just might have more fence down than even me. Do carry on. You've got an audience here, and they can turn ugly when you're late with those deadlines.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), February 23, 2000.

Finishing touches being applied as we "speak"... I'll beat the deadline... "Fence down"? >8^|

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

[Scene XIX]: Interior of nondescript hotel room. The walls between the three adjoining suites are tucked away, allowing enough space for everyone to meet comfortably. Everyone appears relaxedsuits, ties and, in some cases, shoes have been cast off. All appear tired, yet alerttheres a strange energy from the days activities.

A rainbow of fruit-filled pastry covers one whole table. Ed has positioned himself conveniently at that table. He takes an apricot- filled one, and sits down. All eyes are on him.

Ed: I know its been a long day. Tomorrow promises to be another. This debriefing will be the first of many. I'm gonna limit this one to a half-hour. We need to rest. First a quick update: Their room is bugged and Dianas taking the night shift. Weve got video in every room but the closet. His rental car has GPS, so we can track his movements precisely. Lastly, the concierge was eager to discreetly help as well. He takes a rather large bite and pauses. Fire away, folks.

Agent #2 raises his hand. Ed acknowledges him with a nod.

Agent #2 [Looks around the room as he speaks]: Before I ask, I need to ask you guys: Whos read "Q"? [Only #3s hand is raised. Turns back to Ed.]: I cant ask unless everyones up to speed on this one.

Ed [Swallows last bite, licks fingers, surveys the room]: Agreed. Ive got copies for everyone. I wont try to summarize the entire disc, but Ill ask everyone to read the file "Anat_Anom" when we wrap up. [Groans. Ed surveys the remaining pastries and looks around at those in the room. He smiles his best smile.] Yeah, kids, homework. Its not long, I promise. But thats due in part to the fact that its unfinished, which is what the question refers to, am I right? [Glances at #2, who nods.] Ill answer the question at the morning briefing when were all on the same page. Next?

Agent #1 <[Perplexed look, raises hand rather timidly. Ed nods.]: Is shark cartilage really his sole sustenance? [The rest of the group looks quizzically at #1; no one has read this information.]

Ed [Deciding between the cherry and lemon and again surveying the room]: Look, this could get confusing pretty fast. Seems like youve each chosen a different path, which is as it should be, I guess. At least for now. [He chooses the cherry.] The quick answer is: We dont know for certain, but sketchy evidence seems to support it. [Takes a bite and eyes the confusion.] Kinda dull if you ask me... I like variety. [Smiles all around and a few laughs.] Seems to have been his panacea, though his teeth were apparently beyond repair. Next?

[#4 raises her index finger, and gets the nod.]

Agent #4: Why did the Marines cover up the discharge? Why did their official explanation change several times?

Ed [Takes another bite and concludes quickly that #4 is the only one to stumble across this nugget]: PFC Johnsons family has accepted a rather large settlement on the condition that the matter remain private and Uncle Sam and the USMC not be held further liable. "In perpetuity" was the phrase, I believe. [Polishes off the pastry]

Agent #4 [Angrily]: But, my God, Ed, how can Johnsons death be kept from public domain?

Cut to wide shot. No one else is privy to #4s rage. Questions abound.

Ed [Forcefully]: Look, Im gonna recommend that for the time being, we focus on the present and the immediate future. Those wanting deep background can read the files, but theres simply too many unanswered questions, despite the voluminous nature of the files. I apologize for that. Hell, I feel almost personally responsible for a lot of the gaps. And the Pentagon was wrong in lying for so damn long, and letting Cap off the hook. [He notes the body language again: everyone wants the details, now dammit!! He takes a deep breath.]

OK gang, assignment #2. [Groans] Last third of "M" has the pertinent details, but you probably need at least the last half. Dont sweat this one, thoughIll give you three days, well review it then. Tomorrows briefing will shed some light on this whole discharge fiasco. Its all a jumbled mess, and I just dont know how to cram five years into a few days, yknow? Im tryin my best. Next?

No hands raise. #3 yawns and stretches, followed in turn by #1. Cut to Ed, who smiles faintly.

I get the hint. Well continue at 6 a.m. sharp. Sleep well, everyone. Oh, one last thing: any special breakfast requests?

[Scene XIX continues.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 23, 2000.

How dare you so rudely insult me and my audience! Begone!! >8^{

Excuses self to take a long midnight stroll on an unusually balmy night.

-- just a bored and now pissed (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 24, 2000.

Help?! Gimme a good title suggestion!! 8^} And apologize to the collective wisdom of the TB2k forum pronto!!

And it's Janea ne Garofalo.

As you were...

-- just a bored but refreshed (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 24, 2000.


I thought you could make something of yourself until I read:

"collective wisdom of the TB2k forum"

Honestly, don't you know yet there is no *collective* wisdom here yet?

-- (.....@.......), February 24, 2000.

J.A.B. (I like that; has a Hollywood ring to it)

Sorry to dissapear on you for a while, but I had to make an instalment of my own over on the FRL thread.

Seems like you had a rukus while I was gone. Hallmark of the forum.

As for the "fence down" thing. It's Texas ranch country for "screws loose". You know..."It looks like he's got some fence down, and his stock's runnin' loose"

I quite admire your writing, BTW.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), February 24, 2000.

Well, the above monolog makes little sense, as the "muse" was eventually deleted...

Lon: Thanks. I think. 8^} I admire your writing as well...

Care to submit any ideas for a new & improved title? Co-screenwriting credits are yours to be had...

Hollywood beckons. As does my pillow. Continuation of Scene XIX to be posted sometime later today...

-- just a bored and be-mused (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 24, 2000.

just a bored,

You know, if for some reason the screenplay is unsuccessful, you could always publish an encyclopedia of all those little typed faces that you use. And I'm sure you have hundreds of others we haven't even seen yet, with still more in different phases of testing...

By the way, I'd kinda like to start using some. They're not, like, copyrighted or anything, are they?

-- eve (eve_rebekah@yahoo.com), February 24, 2000.

TITLE: Man with potential wastes his time.

Do you remember Janeane Garofalo's comments on y2k before the rollover? She said that she was going to protect her vast empire from the masses. She was going to buy boxes of food, ammo, and a shotgun, and pile them all in the middle of her living room. When the clock struck 12, she was going to sit on top of those boxes with her shotgun loaded and pointed at the door --- of her apartment.

She was using her sarcastic wit to make fun of doomer's!

Don't ya get it, man. If you're gonna spend time writing, you should do it with a purpose. You can sell this stuff if you target your audience to the American public, and the American public isn't going to be interested in Cap, Sadie, Cherri, or Diane. (NOBODY KNOWS WHO THEY ARE.) But, they do know who Koskinen, Clinton, Yourdon, and Garofalo are. (Surely there must be some way to find out what other celebrities did over the rollover.)

Peace. I hope good will, and good fortune will be yours soon, no matter what your pursuits are.

: o )

-- (.....@......), February 24, 2000.

Copied for posterity (SYSOPS please do not delete):

TITLE: Man with potential wastes his time.

Do you remember Janeane Garofalo's comments on y2k before the rollover? She said that she was going to protect her vast empire from the masses. She was going to buy boxes of food, ammo, and a shotgun, and pile them all in the middle of her living room. When the clock struck 12, she was going to sit on top of those boxes with her shotgun loaded and pointed at the door --- of her apartment.

She was using her sarcastic wit to make fun of doomer's!

Don't ya get it, man. If you're gonna spend time writing, you should do it with a purpose. You can sell this stuff if you target your audience to the American public, and the American public isn't going to be interested in Cap, Sadie, Cherri, or Diane. (NOBODY KNOWS WHO THEY ARE.) But, they do know who Koskinen, Clinton, Yourdon, and Garofalo are. (Surely there must be some way to find out what other celebrities did over the rollover.)

Peace. I hope good will, and good fortune will be yours soon, no matter what your pursuits are.

: o )

-- (.....@......), February 24, 2000.

My comment: What made you think this was a story about Y2k? At most, it's tangential. Plot and characters, my dear lady, do a good story make.

eve: No copyright exists. Go for it. 8^}--+

Note to all readers: Next installment may be highly offensive to some.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 24, 2000.

Ok, go for it. I think I have a pretty good sense of humor and so do the others (however, I'll thank you leave my shorts and tank top on).

But, I'm warning you - some of the sysops do not - so don't be surprised if your post, or even the entire thread, is deleted. This forum isn't the stage or Mr. Nelsons drama class, so be careful.

-- (.......@.......), February 24, 2000.

I'm polishing off the next installment, and I gotta tell everyone I'm torn over submitting it.

My gut tells me it may be wise to take a break from publishing. My muse tells me otherwise.

I'm not about to change the story, as I'm true to my muse(s). But I recognize that to publish it will most certainly offend some readers.

It's my dilemma, and ultimately I'll decide what to do. In the meantime, I'm open to comments and/or suggestions. 8^\

-- just a bored but ethically and morally (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 24, 2000.

Just a bored,

If you think it might be deleted by the sysops, why don't you email it to one of them first before you post it, just to make sure it will pass forum decorum. If it does, then post with clear disclaimers first, in CAPS if you must. If it doesn't, would you consider posting it on a web page instead and supply the URL to that web page here?

Oh, suggestions for the title, how about "Demons and Donuts"? No? Well, okay then, how about "The Devil's Keyboard"? Then there is Steve's revised submission...."Nuts, Butts and Cybersluts". Kinda has a nice ring to it I must say.

Stay on course, I know you will do the correct thing.

-- Susan (suheller@koyote.com), February 25, 2000.

"Nuts, Butts and Cybersluts". Love it!! I think that's a keeper!!

I think I'll continue the story (with some rewriting) soon on a new thread with the New & Improved title (or start with Scene XX)...

For anyone looking for a wonderful tale whilst (there's that word again) waiting for my next installment, check out Lon Frank's contributions to the latest FRL thread.

I'm humbled and awed by Lon's work. A true artiste. 8^/

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 25, 2000.


New thread, blue thread, whatever. Just keep going.

I envy your skill at character development. I had never tried to create various personalities before, and I have been inspired and instructed by you. (I love Pooh, and his fantastic anagram mind).

BTW, thanks for the plug.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), February 25, 2000.

Lon: Pooh's scenes are the most difficult to write, but also the most fun and rewarding. Thanks for the kind words.

As for the other comment/request, I'll bite my tongue (though it's tempting to respond) for the time being.

I will try to submit the remainder of XIX by midnight Pacific time. I'm rewriting and refining the Scene now, and it's tricky...

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 26, 2000.

[Scene XIX continues]: The walls of the room are being tucked away, and the window blinds are opened. A gray dawn is breaking, and adds minimal light. Room service delivers four carts filled with coffee pots and covered trays. Ed signs the bill, and the bellhop smiles graciously and touches the bill of his cap.

Diana enters and grabs Ed before anyone else can. She escorts him to a far corner of the room as the other agents help themselves to coffee, juices, bagels, muffins, doughnuts and pastry. A spirited yet hushed conversation has already started amongst the four agents, led by #2. They are all keenly aware of Dianas presence. They strain to no avail to hear her private briefing.

Ed checks his watch. Its 6 sharp. He thanks Diana and she grabs a strawberry Danish on her way to her own room down the hall and some well-earned shut-eye.

Ed [Looking eagerly at the four carts, to no one in particular] : Save some chocolate and blueberry for me, will ya? [More focused]: Lets begin, shall we? I dont want to run over an hour, and Im guessing theres a few questions this morning. Who wants to start? [He makes a beeline toward the carts. He nods in Agent #2s direction.]

Agent #2: I think its fair to say that some of us are struggling with being "agnostic".

Ed [Scooping up the mornings feast]: Understandable... I know its difficult to separate personal feelings from professional obligations sometimes... But realize that the facts in this case are sketchy at best... [Takes his first bite and notes a hint of fear in the room] Look, I cant tell any of you what to believe, but I can remove anyone from this assignment if they cant or wont remain objective... So Ill ask again: Anyone want out?

Agent #4 [A bit defiantly]: Ed, were with you, but if Caps a... [Searching for the right word] Demonic spawn... [The words taste foul. She looks at her fellow agents, who give her the strength to continue] Well, perhaps were in way over our heads here...

Ed [Swallows coffee and shows hint of agitation]: Look, were strictly observing. And lets not jump hastily to conclusions. [#4 starts to respond, but Ed raises a hand and continues] Contingencies are in place if the situation escalates. Ill discuss that later should the need arise. Be assured that no one here will be placed in harms way. OK?

He briefly glances at everyone in turn. Their tension appears to have been eased.

Ed: Our immediate concern is the safety of Ms. Sanity. Diana just informed me that Cap rebuked her advances last night. Her feelings were hurt, but shes safe for the time being... She should be asleep for a few more hours, and I guess its true that Cap never sleeps Hes online, and were monitoring those activities back in DC... I assume therere questions from the reading material?

#2 begins to raise his hand, but his eye contact is a sufficient cue for Ed.

Ed: "Partial success", right? [#2 nods] Yes, well, "Z", our informant, came forward only recently with this information, and, like much of her story, we simply havent been able to either confirm or refute the facts presented. However, what we now know about Caps discharge following PFC Johnsons death seems to support her claim, although all hard copy medical records were lost or destroyed...

He notes the perplexed looks.

Ed: Sorry. I said three days on that, didnt I? Well come back to that later. Ill try to recap Zs testimony, and Ive gotta note to myself to update and cross-reference the files...

He takes a bite of the blueberry doughnut. Dissolve to Zs living room. Frail and elderly, Z sits in her rocking chair as Ed pulls up a chair next to her.

Z: His momma talks to me in confidence, but my days are numbered, Mr. Hite...

Ed: Call me Ed. Please. I appreciate your coming forward, maam. We wont betray your confidence. You should know that by now...

Z [Wiping a tear]: Shes been such a dear friend, and shes been through so much...

Ed [Withdrawing handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her]: I imagine so.

Z [Accepting and wiping away the tear]: Ive asked God what I should do. He brought me to you. Then and now. Did you know that?

Ed [Growing impatient, and sensing this is going much too slowly] : Forgive my rudeness, but my return flight is in only 3 hours.

Z: I see... Forgive me, Ed. Id have come to see you if I were able...

Ed: I know. Ive always enjoyed our talks, and I was happy to come see you here. You have a lovely home.

Z [Smiling]: Thank you. I promise, Ill make your trip worthwhile, and thanks for understanding my not wanting to talk on the phone. [The smile vanishes.] Many years of keeping secrets has made me rather paranoid in my old age...

Ed [Trying to hide his impatience]: The procedure?

Dissolve to overhead shot of operating room. The OB team is mulling its options. Zs narrative continues. Pan over each member, exhaustion apparent in their eyes.

Z: She said they had no choice. That hed be horribly and permanently disfigured if they removed it all.

Cut to close-up of Nurse #3s eyes. She is shaking her head slowly and fighting back tears.

Z: The hope was that it could be removed later... They were able to remove all but a few inches...

Cut to overhead shot of the neonatal ICU. Cap is heavily bandaged on his head and torso, and is being closely monitored.

Z: Over the years, she came to accept that it wasnt coming out. Ever.

Cut to shot of #3 giving a 2-year old Cap a bath.

Z: Explaining it to him was much harder.

#3 forcefully grabs Caps hands and shakes them. He has discovered it for the first time. His palm is bleeding. He cries from the pain, and is startled by his mothers force. She tries to comfort him to no avail.

Z: Not only could he never have children--which is probably a good thing, dont you think, Ed?--but he could never consummate a relationship.

Cut to overhead shot of a teenage Cap. Hes in the barn, standing over the carcass of a sheep, its hindquarters covered in blood. Cut to a close-up of his eyes, a mixture of rage and pleasure.

Z: She said he started "acting out" when he fully understood.

Cut to shot of Ed, as he hugs Z for what will be the last time. Cut to close-up of Eds eyes, filled with sadness, and Zs, filled with tears. Dissolve to shot of Ed, sitting on the edge of a chair, reaching for his coffee.

Ed [Taking a deep breath, and surveying the room.]: Ms. Sanity is in jeopardy. [A hint of a smile as he tries to inject some levity.] Or, shell drive him nuts first. [The smile disappears, as his "joke" falls flat.] I dunno. Neither does Diana at this point.

What we do know is that Cap has apparently shown that hes capable of tremendous rage, and that his mothers fears may again come to fruition. Were gonna try to not let that happen.

The camera pans the room as Ed rises. He has finished. Eyes are wide, but no one speaks.

Ed [Eyeing the last piece of an apple strudel]: Anyone want this?

[End of Scene XIX.]

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 26, 2000.

Just a bored, just a fascinated fan loggin' in here to let you know that there are more than you know, dear one, waiting for the next scene ;^)

Hey, how about a Jerry Springer style title like

Hot cyber sluts and the pastry hungry detectives that persue them


How Pooh Bear revealed the real meaning of life to me.


Sunshines piezeomagnetoelectric view of the world.


Spawn of Satan involved in NWO takeover

hmmmmmm, sleepy sleepy now. G'night artist

-- Pagan One (not_tonight@maybe.never), February 26, 2000.

Let's be fair now, Ok?

Z is a young male, who has been confused at times.

CAPS is a gentleman, who has never made any inappropriate advances at women.

(You wouldn't want to smear anyone's reputation unjustly; would you? And you will make it clear that this story ispure fiction, won't you?)

-- (H@lping.out), February 26, 2000.

H@lping.out's answer has given me another idea for a title: Citizen Cap.

-- David L (bumpkin@dnet.net), February 26, 2000.

I think CAP is in more danger from rebuking the advances of Ms. Sanity actually, since she has been known to morph and perform random acts of destruction.

May I suggest a middle initial for Ms. Sanity's name? Try an N there.

Sorry for the interruption, please carry on....I am on the edge of my seat now!

-- Susan (susan@steveheller.com), February 27, 2000.

Carry on!

-- carried away (more@more.more), February 28, 2000.

Hey I've been busy!! Scene XX to be posted Leap Day (or Feb. 30th at the latest!), and promises to be... well, it'll be a Scene, OK? 8^}

I'll post it on a new thread complete with new & improved title, with links and proper co-screenwriter credits duly attributed. Last chance for entries in the "Rename Cap" contest!!

I'm the sole judge and jury, and my decision is final. Deal with it. Royalties will undoubtedly pour in to the winner. Starting Feb. 30...

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 28, 2000.

Pagan One: Like your suggestions, but "piezeomagnetoelectric" might not fit on the marquee (and the meaning, whatever it might be, could get lost in the translation to the foreign versions).

H@lping.out: My legal disclaimer follows: "Cap" is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is (more or less) coincidental. Think that should cover me?

Susan: "N" it is. I'll have to add you to the writing credits now.

Carried away: See previous post.

All: Happy leap day!! 8^|

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 28, 2000.

Entries for the "Rename this goofy thing" close at midnight Feb. 30.

I'm still open to suggestions. C'mon, let me know you're out there!!

-- just a bored and ignored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), February 29, 2000.

Well, J.A. B.,

I missed the deadline for the contest, but that's all right 'cause I'm brain-dead right now anyway. Finished my project (finally) with a new appreciation for professional wordsmiths.

Gotta hit the road in a few days, but will look forward to reading you when I return. Thanks again,

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), March 01, 2000.

Lon and others: The deadline is midnight tonight, which is also my deadline for Scene XX and a newly titled thread (which will be attributed with proper fanfare).

Midnight is such a vague time, isn't it? I mean, does it "belong" to today or tomorrow? Sorry for any confusion. Carry on...

btw, check out the amazing climax to Lon's uproarious tale here. A true masterpiece not to be missed!

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), March 01, 2000.

And the winner is: "Nuts, Butts, and Cybersluts"! Congratulations, Steve! Thanks everyone for your suggestions. Click on the link for the exciting continuation of the seemingly neverending saga.

-- just a bored (struggling@screenwriter.wannabe), March 01, 2000.

give it up kid it's garbage!!!

-- jeff murphy (jfm@itrf.com), March 26, 2002.

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