Return to SimplyScripts.com
This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved.
This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express
written permission of the author.
-------------------------
Opening:
INT- DREAM REASEARCH FACILITIES- DAY- ESTABLISHING
VERLO is a young man with vibrant eyes. Two medical workers in
day-glo jumpsuits are pulling him from a sensory deprivation
tank. The sensory deprivation tank is lifted by industrial
robot arms and 'filed' in a monolithic wall of a high-tech
mortuary styled facility. Medical workers load Verlo into
the bed of a 'pick-up' cart. The cart zips through the
factory at breakneck speeds.
EXT- Tropical Beach with white sand & palm trees- Day
A cabana with a thatched roof is a fifty yards from the
crystal blue surf. A hammock is stretched between two palm
trees. Women from the Gauguin painting -Arearea- are
bringing fruits and vegetables to the cabana.
VERLO
Do you know how dreams work?
AMERIKA
Mi quiero,... you know you can
always dream for me.
Verlo grabs Amerika by the hips. He drags her on top
VERLO
...with you, I don't think I'm
going to have enough time to dream.
They roll on the bed. Their bodies morph into the surf.
INT- DREAM REASEARCH FACILITIES- DAY-
VERLO
v.o.) I am awake from my sleep.
First things first... I 've gotta
remember where I am. I went to
sleep twelve hours ago. Twelve is
max for most. I've been cleared for
sixteen. I always come back.
INT- PRESENTATION ROOM OF DREAM RESEARCH FACILITIES- DAY-
DOCTOR SUSAN KARTOG -
Brilliant female scientist & dream
researcher is wearing glasses. The
glasses reflect the projected
imagery including diagrams of human brain,
neural activity, synaptic fires,
operating theater, etc & ect...
KARTOG
(v.o.) Gentlemen, we have
found a 'Rara Avis' sleeper.
CUT TO:
INT- DREAM REASEARCH FACILITIES- DAY-
'Pick-up' cart dead stops with no inertia. Two medical workers
approach impossibly long metal desk. One human, RE-INSERTION
SECRETARY, looks up in a bothered way from the computer
screen as the workers guide Verlo to the desk. The workers
leave.
VERLO
(v.o.) I'm different, they
say. I understand the tube rushers,
the background ambiance, the
flow of constant media info...
I always come back, in one
piece and... I always
understand the rules.
SECRETARY
Please sign this statement, cadet.
A printer sparks to life. An insane number of pages are churned
out. Verlo ham-handedly fondling the lava flow of pages.
VERLO
(v.o.) This is my first human
contact, a secretary. A tech
pen is thrust into my right
hand. I've got to... try to
remember where I have come
from.
EXT- STANDARD GAUZY DREAM SHOT - DAY
Verlo standing by a lake at sunset.
VERLO
(v.o.) It was autumn. It's
always autumn, in my dreams.
The autumn of my dreams is
always quiet and lonely.
Always those teenaged autumns
I began to dread every July.
How I hated in those days. I would
kick someone's ass at the drop
of a hat. I would fuck
anything on two legs. Autumn
was a personal rebellious
fantasy. Autumn was a long
time ago.
Beautiful Girl is splashing in the sunlight reflected on a placid
surface
VERLO
(v.o.)
Autumn was a mermaiden who stole my youth and slipped away before
I had realized it was even a commodity. Burnt orange leaf
corpses were her kisses. These are kisses no more. Now is
perpetual summer without the release of autumn.
INT- DREAM RESEARCH FACILITIES- DAY-
Secretary eyes Verlo with a scrutinizing concern. One
eyebrow arched. Verlo smiles non-challantly.
VERLO
(v.o.) Standard inquiry,
standard response. Means I haven't
forgot my work. Means I can
sleep again. Lucky me.
SECRETARY
Are your motor skills becoming
diminished through these voluntary
studies?
VERLO
No.
(v.o. close shots of legal
forms with glowing words 'Dream
Research Volunteer') I
scribble my name. Whatever it
means.
EXT- KAFKA-ESQUE INDUSTRIAL BURN OUT- DAY
distant security camera shots of Verlo leaving building with hands
in pockets. Monochromatic hues of children and the elderly
talking into hands-free telecommunication gear as Verlo
passes by.
Verlo wanders through industrial sections with
determination. Clock faces on brick buildings all showing
different hours. VERLO somewhat panicky running through
industrial section with green LED of nuclear clock running
along the bottom of frame
VERLO
(v.o.) This main character,
which is me, and in some way
everyone who lives outside an
easily managed society, is the
bane of modern thinking. If
you think too much psychosis
becomes the diagnosis of the
self assumed enlightened
layperson. Too little and you
morph into a replica of an Amerikan
media generated icon. Try to
express your thoughts in a
manner that arouses no curious
onlookers at times of
masterful dissemination.
Confuse the hell outta all the
monkeys crowded around the
television set. This is where
the modern thinker shines.
Strangely desperate verbal
codes whispered in passing, handbills
printed in invisible ink.
INT- SCIENCE ACADEMY, DREAM RESEARCH DIV. -
Kartog surrounded with enormous presentational video screens addressing
a group of 12 white smocked scientists. Watching Verlo run
through the Industrial section
KARTOG
The actual birth name is Micheal
Strow,... yet for reasons beyond
the scope of this research he
changed it to Lazlo Verlo. He was
born in Atlantis or where Atlantis
was supposed to have been. The
twists & tweaks of evolutionary
fate, however, would furrow the
brow of even the most tedious seismic
cartographer. Ladies & Gentlemen
may I please introduce Lazlo Verlo.
EXT- DESERT APOCALYPSE TOWN- NIGHT-
Campfire along overgrown railroad tracks in some God
forsaken sinkhole middle of Amerika. AROUND THE FIRE- white
people dressed like Indians, drag queens, black cowboys,
happy drunken hookers, and small children wearing ancient,
corporate, sports clothing.
A rather large man, TOM MORROW, bearing the countenance of Orson
Wells, dressed as an Arab, is narrating this tale.
TOM MORROW
Old Scratch had been clawing at the
floorboards of our hero's brain fer
so long it seemed the only way out
was to sign up for the governmentally
sponsored 'sleep studies'. I, in my
role of narrator, do not wish to
misinform the gentle people, this
being y'all, into believing this timeline
to take place in some mythical
near-future setting. Now-a-days,
people sleep in a bizarre
awake-ness. Sleeping only when the
overload of image, stresses- {both
physical & mental}-, signs, &
symbolic rigmarole short-circuit
our groveling synaptic tentacles.
While sleeping, cars race, horns
blare, electrically imparted
information clouds molecules of
atmosphere. We, in our modern sleep
cycle, are influenced by the 'white
noise' of this ever grinding..
scraping realm. The idea of the
Science League's sleep experiments, or
so suggests the high-tech
grapevine, germinated when some
geek's love for Woody Allen's film
'Sleeper' was fleshed out to a
point of crackpot technology. Between
you and me, I believe it was a
drug-induced lark. That on top of
the fact the science monkeys are
sitting around o a mountain of cash
with their thumbs up their
collective asses. Kin... I git... a
'Holy, Holy!'?
The entire tribe howls.
INT- DOWNTOWN OFFICE BUILDING- DAY-
Verlo holding badge high for security cameras. Heading towards
middle bank of elevators. Verlo exiting elevators on 22nd
floor. Opening brass handle of wooden door.
VERLO
Did you call for me, MR. REYES?
MR. REYES reading documents. MR. REYES rubs eyes, pushes
back in chair, yawns & stretches as he begins to speak.
MR. REYES
It's nothing very important, Laz. I
was wondering if you had a few
moments we could share, hmm?
VERLO
A few moments?
MR. REYES
Ten/fifteen minutes-ish
VERLO
Uh... SURE! Why not? I'll just go
down to fill out the paperwork and
we can meet... around... after
lunch?
MR. REYES
I've already anticipated your
response and had a temp fill out
the paperwork.
VERLO
Then... I'll finish my FAX-ing and
come back here directly?
MR REYES
I've gotten another temp to finish
your FAX-ings.
VERLO
We can meet... now?
MR REYES
That would be excellent, Mr. Verlo.
Sign this paper and we can begin
our 'non-critical yet rather
necessary' communications which
should last for approximately
fifteen to twenty minutes.
EXT- METRO URBANA BIZ DIST.- DAY
Sandaled feet walking on both sidewalk and small patches of grass.
Skyward capturing AMERIKA (Young Hispanic woman) on a
backdrop of war from hundreds of years (horsemen of
apocalypse running through fields of smoke, puddles of
blood, crushing childrens' toys, etc...). Amerika smiles
unaffected by the horror. She walks with purpose through the
concrete canyons of generic metropolis.
SOUND- girl humming in Spanish A driverless car crashes into lamppost
that sets up a cacophony of clocks, chiming with bells &
whistles
INT- MR. REYES OFFICE- DAY-
MR. REYES
Why don't you take a seat?
Verlo reaches for the back of an office chair. A mechanical buzz
forms a line across his forehead, drowning out MR. REYES'
voice. The entire field of vision is compressed into a
half-inch square. Verlo grasps the chair with desperate
strength. Succumbing to the buzz and white light, Verlo plops
in the chair.
MR. REYES-
Unaware of the headspin/compression
continues speaking ...so as you can
see, we are quite concerned by
recent exhibitions. We are running
a business. We need to stay as
professional as we are capable of
staying. You agree, of course, Mr.
Verlo, do you not?
(BEAT)
The onset of another headspin/compression attack
VERLO
Of course. Why not?
MR. REYES-
Splendid! Tean fromp celop...
Drowns into the white noise and white
light.
CUT TO:
DREAMER DREAMING-
MOREEN - light & etheric - MOREEN is the narrative voice of
all dreams. Dream one begins as a reflective gleam in
Verlo's eye. All dreams take place on a stage of chaotic
dimensional possibilities
MOREEN (VO)
More snow. More Winter. More cold.
Shaking off the last strands of an
incredible dream. Awake to realize
once again... limbo.
-LIMBO FILLED WITH A MILLION ANGRY
SMILERS-
Smilers swarm throughout Limbo. LEAD ANGRY SMILER
approaches. All other Angry Smilers form various patterns
behind the Lead.
LEAD ANGRY SMILER
'we'll ONLY let you be god if you
let us kill you. We've already got
enough candidates for
OverDose-hyphen-CRUXIFICTION/sla$h/
suicide.
THE ONLY SPACE THAT'S LEFT IS....
Let me see...
(lead Angry Smiler leafs
through a gigantic book of judgments)
...O.k., here IT IS, (Lead
Angry Smiler running finger
down the page) ...the ONLY
SPACE that's available is...
(beat)
STRANGULATION!
Will YOU let US throttle you, you
worthless little godhead wannabe?'
MOREEN
(v.o.) Disassociation is the
key. Remember those dark nights
of your past? Where the
howling only ceased as you set
your vision inward. The
stories you told yourself were
beyond beauty.
DREAM IMAGE ONE [ALARMIST]
Sinking skinning ever softer, ever
deeper. Deliberate slacking of
muscle, gelatinous. Mission Control
intervenes in static syllables "Heads
up, Captain! You are entering the
gauze in three,. two,.." ONE rings through
tinny corrugation. An eternity
spans from the 'O' the silent 'E'. Falling,
filtering through pliable gauze.
Exiting into 'CONTACT!'. An unknowable
light source pastels the landscape
in Rose, Water, and a soft, warm, Grape.
Your movements here are deliberate,
and in that deliberation, laggard. (Mental
image of a rat swimming in
molasses) From the perspective of
great distance, a form approaches.
Upon sighting you move toward said
object. Desire. Encyclopedic
glimpses of desirous objects. Red
pillowy lips,{whispering}, Supra supple
flesh, {rewarding}, pleasant
surprises, comfort. You notice your heartbeat
pounding with excitement.
Everything that has ever been is
yours for the taking. Twenty yards
away & an overpowering sense of
wickedness invades. A form morphs
into a vile cube showered in deep
crimson. Digging your heels into
the surface material, once
malleable now highly polished and treacherous
slippery, your inertia propels you
closer at highly mechanical speed.
(IMAGE FLASH- a kitten bowled
across a linoleum alley) Upon this
high speed slide you ram through
skyscrapers, log cabins, Japanese
paper walls, Hollywood plywood
sets, DA-DA!! To a lurching stop on
a studio stage. A non-descript,
capacity audience delivers a
console damaging raucous applause. You
reach into your tuxedo jacket
pocket and produce a bouquet of
radishes and parsnips, which
explode into Two million-four
hundred-seventy-six cotton tailed bunnies.
These in turn bound into the
audience & proceed to copulate at fantastic
rates. Rabbits fuck & breed,...
fuck & breed,... before exploding
into prismatic mirrored confetti.
Most of the newly conceived embryonic
bunnies, due to accelerated growth,
brought about by heavy ingestion of
'Modern Product'â„¢, germinate &
infiltrate the ever growing
population of audience members.
About 20% are stillborn & sold as
snacks to hungry patrons. The cue
card guy sez "Sticky script!!", as
if you had done something wrong.
Your character glances towards the
off-stage wing space. A forgotten high
school crush is melting giddy
draped in a full length, blue &
green, stripped, plastic raincoat.
She flashes you the naked body of a
goat/rabbit cartoon sticking her
tongue through a sultry smile. In
an exasperated horse-ish manner,
you allow air to pass while
flapping your lips. The audience
lets loose a mass groan "OOOWWWWW!"
"O-KAYEE, debts git er goat bear,"
hold yer breath "ZEN!!" The roof is
ripped off via a stereotypical mob
mentality burst of applause. Five
clowns rush the stage and form a
mock doggie-style train. "Oh!-ah!-OH!!"
On this final thrust they implode
into a lovely thunderstorm of luminescent
dryads zipping offstage on
dragonfly wings. Cultured applause
now- fingertips to palms only. The
theater zooms out to blur, leaving
only you and the object of past
lust filled pubescent desire. She
opens the slicker with the 'CLICK!'
of a high-speed shutter. Erotica,
by Earth standards. Full breasts, throbbing
pink nipples, flaming red pubis,
smooth, milky, meaty, fleshy,
thigh, calf, stomach,...'CLICK!' a
speculation of your mother's flesh,
'CLICK!' your mother's actual
flesh, 'CLICK!' soft, tortuous
scales of reptile, 'CLICK!' a cartoon
chicken, 'CLICK!' a gangrenous
crack whore, 'CLICK!' your own
naked body 'CLICK!' Her 'actual'
body, the one you never explored.
She opens her lips "Sum Ding!" you
reach to touch "Ding! Ding!" your
hands slide into holographic shadows
"Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!" you
stumble through her back to the
Rose, Water, and soft warm Grape.
"DING!DING!DING! DING!DING!
DING!DING!DING! DING!DING! DING!DING!!!!"
EXT- INDUSTRIAL METROPOLIS -DAY
Day breaks flat across Metropolitan Avenue. The coastal
plain undergoing continuous submergence/re-emerging from the
slate gray waters of the northern Ocean. A little more land
is lost each day. Sometime in the future there'll be no
more. Verlo scans the sidewalks. He climbs peaks of 'MAN'S' concrete
excuse for mountains. Verlo appears five to eight years
younger but more cynical.
VERLO (V.O.)
Nature is a manmade hologram.
Everyday is more truth of the fiction.
More fact of absurdity brought into
being by some creature, disguised as
man. Human kind. Human shape. Human
style. To be only human. Upholding gender
& species distinctions. The
calcinations of the species into a fashionably
buff race of exaggerated body parts
to say sexual function.
A billboard person smiles at Verlo from the ass end of a speeding
bus. Verlo wears sweatpants and chuckie c's.
MOREEN
(v.o.) He didn't have to go to
the cube today. Thought it
would be nice to hang out.
Chill. Relax. Take in the City
vibrations. Maybe do that
chick whose been giving him
the eye down @ the deli. Ride
the trains. Wager on the dogs.
Or maybe just go back home. He
is distracted from his daily mental
to do list by a gaggle of
businesswomen thunder heels
clacking crosswalk towards
first stop on the 'L' train,
Queens side. A strangling
fistful of heavily chemical
scented perfume vapors punches
dear, sweet)Verlo in the nose from
across the intersection.
VERLO (V.O.)
I guess it's hard to be a woman.
(aloud) No better than trained pigs.
(V.O.)
wallowing in excuses from as far
back as cognitive monkeys can
remember. Attraction is a
combination of physical
formulations set in motion when the
sperm hits the ovum.
(aloud) I'll have to write it down later.
Verlo breathes deep- in through the nose.- holds it. A deep mouthful
of oxygen held in the lungs out through the mouth. A pigeon
cocks its head. A red unblinking eye focuses on Verlo's
meditations. People filter past. People walking.
People in cars. Cars with people inside. (Fancy pants, Dandy lads,
Hard robotic women dressed as men...) Numbers walking
Numbers driving Numbers flying
VERLO
There are hills west of the Hudson.
A human shadow approaches, stepping from the East. It stops directly
in front of the Sun. A question from a deep bass black voice
trembles Verlo's personal sonic space.
SHADOWMAN
Do you have the time?
VERLO
(still facing West)
         Daytime.
SHADOWMAN
(chuckling) I meant the exact
time but I do like your answer.
'DAYLIGHT!' Ha, that's good.
VERLO
A quick backhanded generalization
to 'SHOO!' away the interloper. I
don't know...it's after 7:30.
SHADOWMAN
Have you ever been out there? Out
west?
VERLO
Not this lifetime.
SHADOWMAN
Man, you gotta go. There's a whole
world out there.
Verlo turns his head twisting his shoulder & neck to the left
sunrise strikes his retina, silhouetting the speaker's solid
figure. He turns to focus, once more, on the Western
horizon.
VERLO
The City is my world.
SHADOWMAN
Yeah, but it's a world unto itself.
I'm talking about a whole, entire
other world. I was born here. I
just got back. That's 76 years of traveling
around the planet. & I don't mean
fly into town stay at a hotel for a
night or two & then back on the
plane for the next city. If a place was
nice to me, I would hang out for a
couple of months, years sometimes & then
move on when the next hill called.
I'm whatcha call your modern
VERLO
Did you find what you were looking
for?
SHADOWMAN
Find Hell,... it's not about
finding. That's for shoppers. That's
for tourists. My gig is about
living as much as I can before this
shell gives up the ghost. Answering
the call of Life's mysterious
beauty, that's all there is to
find. I'm telling you, because it's
better you should know going into
it. Not like me. I was dug deep
into stereotypes of what kind of
people did what kind of things when
I started out, but that changes
quick when you're climbing those
hills. Life becomes a continual
state of re-evaluating your mental
processors. I'm not speaking of
metaphorical hills of landing a
job, securing a future, or
stockpiling money. I'm talkin'
'bout 'REAL HILLS'. Something you &
you alone have to climb. I've gotta
go now. I just wanted to make sure
you knew the time.
Verlo whips his head & shoulder to the right
VERLO
Wait a minute...
Only a pigeon with a cocked head & one red eye launchs itself
from the ground.
EXT- SMALL TOWN RED-LIGHT SPRAWL- NIGHT
Verlo steps out of a 24hr diner with backpack. Approaches intersection.
'CORRUPT SOUTHERN TOWN' & '1985?' burns through.
VERLO looks down at combat boots. One lace has come untied. Verlo
kneels over to tie boot. Headlights of swerving car. Car
smashes Verlo in the side of the face.
BLACKOUT:
Emergency room, EKG going flat line, white light, EKG back into
normal pulse, images of Heaven, Hell, and the cosmic
Universe.
FADE:
Verlo hooked into machines. Verlo being grunied around
MOREEN (V.O.)
Only six more hours. You can do it.
Others have waited longer for less
glory. Everyone involved in this
experiment knows of your fears regarding
isolation & speed with which time
races by/// only to lag when it finds
beneficial motives, such as
screwing your head into a plastic
spring. You've forgotten those now
that a testing has been introduced,
huh? That was play, I guess.. The
real world has freaked you back
into your safety net of wish- you-
could be anywhere else besides this
life at this time. I do believe in
your ability to overcome this
particular inconvenience
Shots of Verlo in coma juxaposed with shots of Verlo in
Dream Research Facilities.
MOREEN
(v.o.) The way they've got you
strapped to those machines....,
I wish I could do something
for you, I really do. Come to
think of it.. You've always
blew your own horn, haven't
you? 'I don't need any help! I
can do it myself!!' & if they
didn't like it, fuck 'em! I'm
trying to remember that one
thing you used to say...What
was that?
Shots of Verlo hitchhiking, stealing food, at wild punk rock parties.
CUT TO:
Verlo is a montage of being hooked up to medical wirings
MOREEN
(v.o.) I remember! 'Even if
it's wrong, I did it perfect!'
It almost sounded as if you
believed it. Now here you are
your face braced shut,
someone's replaced your eyes
with two giant horse
chestnuts, and they've got you
strapped down because if you
make one wrong move a blood
clot might rush to your brain
& that's all she wrote. Still
you refuse happiness. You're
happy with making your self
miserable. There's a lot of miserable
people out there already, pal.
You must think you're
different than everybody else
on the planet, huh? You get
smashed in the face, drink
some poison, open your veins
to paint red pictures on the
bathroom tiles. I don't think
that's so cool. I liked those
little stories you were
telling, when nobody else was
in earshot. Those were nice.
No pretension. Just a regular
old story one might tell a
group of children or the
elderly. Couldn't you just try it
once. For me?
INT- SCIENCE ACADEMY, DREAM RESEARCH DIV. -
A gathering of key members of the Science League's Dream Research
Department
KARTOG
At present the human species has
shown a remarkable decline in the
area of dreaming. Whether the
stresses of modern life or the mass
media infiltration of right brain
functions is beyond the scope of
our technology. Verlo has shown an
uncanny ability to produce what was
once thought to be 'normal human
electro-chemical discharge while
sleeping. Granted ten years ago this
may not have sounded so strange,
today it is a most bizzare
occurance.
ELDER SCIENTIST
Are you willing to put forth a
proposal of how we may utilize this
'strange... bizzare' -ness?
KARTOG
It's still too early. I'm not even
certain of any benefits as far as
either the general public or
private sectors are concerned at
the present time. What I do know is
that whatever happens inside of the
time/space where Verlo is sleeping
sets up a 'leak-effect' on this
material plane of existence.
IT SCIENTIST
Is there a possibility of designing
a particular outcome to further our
agenda or distributing to our
expanding consumer base?
(BEAT)
KARTOG
Initally I believed there could be
some form of packaging and distribution
but as the research continues... I
just don't know. Verlo's mind is
somewhere off the register. Though
not a thoroughly text book case he
seems to be comprised of every
mental illness ever researched
within variance of degrees. His
left and right brain functions
interact in such a rapid fashion he should
be considered by all accounts a
deranged psychopath. That is on the physical
neuralogical level. His forms of
communication, however, are as literate
and philosophic as any academic at
the University level.
BIOLOGY DEPARTMENT DOCTOR
How much of this is due to the
traumatic concussion?
Kartog Points to the center screen display of skull X-Ray
and radiographic images of the brain
KARTOG
The point of impact occurred on the
left side of the patient's head. As
you can see there seems to be no
detrimental signals at present. The
head trauma occurred fifteen years
ago. By all accounts Verlo should
still have a little trouble tying
his shoe. There was neither rehabilitation
nor therapy. After spending three
months in a coma Verlo woke up one
morning and walked out of the
hospital. If I may direct your
attention to the left eye. You may
notice a small circle in this area.
BIOLOGY DEPARTMENT DOCTOR
A bone screw?
KARTOG
Looks like one... but the truth
is... someone has stapled a micro
transponder to his cheek bone. The
thing that puzzles me is... who
would spend the technology and why
they would want to keep track of
him.
EXT- SEATTLE, PIONEER SQUARE- DAY
General hub-bub of mid-day
MIDDLE AGED WEST COAST SHOPPER LADY is clutching shopping bags
& mortgages on a newly refurbished Pioneer Square condo. She
is walking along with HER PARTNER (a dyke-ish bleach blonde)
MIDDLE AGED WEST COAST SHOPPER LADY
Oh MY GAWD! Right here underneath
the sidewalks? I refuse to believe
that. It's too incredible!
HER PARTNER
Your going to have to believe me on
this one, Dear, got it straight
from the horse's mouth. Guy's been
over to Europe, knows all about the big
K-Y jelly Matisse thing, sez to me
that these people over @ The-Strangler.com
are setting up this wingnut
website. He was reading a new 'Made
for the Screen' manuscript, when he
overhears these voices floating
up...
X FADE:
Burn through with docu-vid-reality
INT- ARTIST'S BOHEMIAN STUDIO- NIGHT
In a weekly studio apartment (SF) a MAN and a WOMAN are sitting
at a wooden table. Each has a cup of wine. On the table is a
bowl of olives. This is a setting of complete candor. The
light is entering from two windows looking into the alley.
The apartment is 'not-too-shabby'.
INTERNATIONAL WOMAN
I have had this same conversation
with you... I don't know...I
feel... you know... déjà vu? It was
maybe... a dream. And you said
'This is how dreams overlap
reality.' I think it was a dream
AMERICAN MAN
Yes! It was a dream. I was there
because it was my own dream. I said
to you, inside of my dream, while
we were sitting here JUST LIKE
THIS... I said to you 'this is how
dreams overlap reality.' In this
room. At this very same time while
we were sitting here in the past,
present and future. It was THEN
that you told me that you felt we
had this conversation before. Now
you are telling me that you had a
dream... the same dream... that I
was having and we are both
remembering this sameness somewhere
in a future dream?
INTERNATIONAL WOMAN
I knew you were gpoing to say that.
My God... this is really happening
right now, isn't it?
AMERICAN MAN
It's meant for someone/something WE
don't know. Not one of us lousy
monkeys know who we're working for.
WE who are so far removed, we
become wires to the Universe.
Telemetry pounding out something so
very far beyond electronic data,
you'd have to hit every fuckin'
plane of existence @ once just to
half assed grasp the dialect.
INTERNATIONAL WOMAN
Any way, the dream I was telling
you about before... the dreams of
the missles and the actors on the
beach. There was a woman who came and
put a big dog shit in a garbage can
when I was brushing my teeth. Then
I went to the theater but it wasn't
a real theater. It was just like
life.
AMERICAN MAN
It's not about reason. Reason is
the 'dot-to-dot' helping chicken
hearted lizards understand majicks
not of this pre-fabbed realm. There are
some THINGS we can't know of in the
flesh. Which is why, 'Know-It-Alls' need
to process everything that chips
away @ their 4 walled reality
through very EARTH-based info
filters before they will
accept/or/deny anything non-scientifically
notated. Artists & various other
psychotics, don't deal on that
plane. That's the end of the
mystery. IT just IS.
EXT- On the sidewalk- day
Still clutching shopping bags & mortgages, yet now more desperately.
MIDDLE AGED WEST COAST SHOPPER LADY
OHMYGAWD! What does it mean?!
HER PARTNER
These people are 'off-the-wall' &
in order for common, decent,
civilized people to understand
them, we, ourselves would have to
be 'off-the-wall'.
MIDDLE AGED WEST COAST SHOPPER LADY
No thank you!
They enter a dimly lit parking garage. Walking towards the autobox,
a higher amount of care is enacted to sidestep the shadows,
to avoid anything which might dwell there.
Ext- East bound Highway 10- Day- Sun rises over cactus.
Verlo hitchiking with backpack, cardboard magic marker sign
-'Tejas' -, & a canteen. Pick-up, driven by SW business
suited TOM MORROW, passes. Tom does a double take before
studying Verlo in the rearview. Tom contemplates Verlo while driving
on. Verlo hikes.
SCIENTIST
(v.o.) What kind of
information, if any,... do we
have on this character?
KARTOG
We know where he was born... Where
he went to school...
SCIENTIST
I'm not making myself clear. When
did all this begin?
Sun in VERLO's face. A look of supremely religious awe. Flashing
images of exotic female faces (25-50) , intermitten with
drops of sweat reflecting the rising sun.
INT- Tom's truck finally pulls over- day Tom looks over his left
shoulder. Exhales deeply. Tom turns the truck into the
opposite lane EXT- VERLO on his knees on the shoulder- day
VERLO is now crying while holding his cardboard sign over
his head. A ploaroid roll-a-dex of naked women is running throught
his head. The cardboard -'TEJAS'- sign is shaking. A van
speeds up to screech dust clouds in stopping an inch from
touching the sign. Driver -SPEEDFREAK- jumps out. Walks
banged up cowboy boots to Verlo.
SPEEDFREAK
You lookin' fer a ride, er what?
EXT- Tom's truck passes Speedfreak's van on long stretch of US
I-10- day
CUT TO:
INT- SPEEDFREAK's van- int A wide assortment of tools for making
velvet painting, velvet paintings, and crappy truckstop
brick-a-brak tossed haphazrdly behind the front seats.
Hula-girls & virgins on the dashboard. SPEEDFREAK listens to
a heavy metal station while eyeing VERLO with quick, freaky
suspicion. VERLO darts eyes from dashboard icons to
SPEEDFREAK
You weird, er wat?
Verlo stares straight ahead past the highway.
VERLO
I am part of the Universe. I am a
part of this road.
SPEEDFREAK
(fairly freaking out) Whoa,
man! I don't want no freaky
shit happenin' here. I'll pull
this van right the fuck over.
(beat) You party, man? I ain't
no faggit... but if you wanna
take a little hit, we kin take
a little hit. You fuck up &
that's on you, buddy. Lookee
cheer...
Speedfreak dangles a large baggie containing fat buds of day-glo
green marijuna.
This shit grows 'round the new-clear missile base, inside that
little bowl of mountains. We kin go up there 'n git it when
there ain't nobody lookin'. You ain't 'Big Brother', are ya?
'Cause we don't need none of that freaky shit niether. Here,
Here! Roll us up one of them now. Sittin' on yer ass getting
a free ride. Ain't nobody rides fer free, man. You know what
ah mean? You know what ah mean? I'll git ya ta Tucson but no
freaky shit, ya hear?
Ext- ROLLIN' LIKE A STONE- day Van rolls. Heavy metal. Van swerves
every now and then.
Int- heavy metal SPEEDFREAK talk- day
Very loud music. Verlo rolls joint after joint. Speedfreak talking
very animately (pointing/ laughing/ screaming) Verlo's eye
catches a glint of sun reflected off a chrome 'PETERBILT
WOMAN' on a mudflap.
VERLO
(v.o.) I am part of this
Universe. I am a part of
Tight into the 'PETERBILT WOMAN' The Universe swirls in her reflection.
Inside the reflection> Galactic storms, cosmic rainbows, supernovas,ringed
planets, comets, spacecraft, satellites, blue electrical bolts,
& orange flames
MOREEN
(v.o.) You are part of this
Universe. You are this road.
DREAM IMAGE 2- BRUMAL
Suck deep greed of sleep. Inhale
foamy draughts. Snake spine uncoils.
Muscle gives up soul. Velvet
darkness spiraling into opulent
lull. YOU AWAKE! Under X-RAY
equipage. JZSHZSHZSH...! A robotic
arm scans the length of your body.
A goateed doctor holds up a
ballpoint pen emblazoned with the
image of a naked(BOMBSHELL)woman,
-{Betty Boop stag party style}-. He
turns the pen upside down. Her
curvaceous flesh slides away
reveling a female skeletal anatomy.
"NOW!!"
whistles the gap-toothed doctor,
rolling his eyes [SNAKEEYES!!]
"You're free to go. Ta-ta!" "BUT
DOCTOR!!" you ejaculate pulling closed
your blood soaked hospital gown
"What about....... Little
Jimmy?!?!" Neon green word bubbles
erupt 'Whip Him Soundly And Send
Him To Bed'
Walking on rain slicked street. Shudder shoulder to punch of impending
winter wind. Close eyes, yet still cold. A billboard erupts
through the horizontal plane. A cubic rectangle of
immeasurable proportions.
'Where Will You Stay When Winter Arrives?'
Arctic blue furies prelude a blizzard of chrome. An inescapable
scent of ash. Embryonic fetuses erupt from a chrome crusted
blanket of snow. And they grow. They grow to lightning
maturation within the time/space of a breath, they decompose
into husks, then to ash. You are now the only living
creature in your dream. A trumpeted fanfare heralds the
swooping arrival of twelve winged demons. your voice blasts
for no apparent reason. "At least I can dream now!!"
Laughing, full of joy, you rip off layer upon layer of garment.
Now you are naked, in the snow, laughing uproariously. The
demons flock to the discarded articles of clothing. "Tsk,
tsk, tsk." they chitter disapprovingly. Shaking out many
layers of underwear, shirts and pants they clean, fold,&
hang up your mess. When did this begin? This is the... this...
is the... this...is the beginning.
Int- Science League's Sleep Research Facility- day
Kartog sits across a table from Verlo. Kartog is shifting through
papers. She pulls off her glasses and looks into Verlo's
eyes.
KARTOG
Can you tell me when this started?
VERLO
(deeply into KARTOG's eyes) My
head was this planet -BURNING-
My torso was dead -BULLET
HOLES, ya know? CLEAN!!!! From
this whoredom ending another
cor-pirate work week My legs
are unstable on this early sunrise
sidewalk- PAVED- religion
running splattered blood again
to escape another... Dream of
triple fives i woke from death
shaking wonderful life between
pages of synaptic continuity
with questions just like a
machine to fantasy; to off to
places {where only plastic is
beautiful enough to shake rust tears
pulling at electrode cornered
eyes} -Those bastards are
trying to kill me.- i said
stare into my eyes, doktor
haunting rearview mirrors 15
cars pile twisting up on an
overpass called: Anywhere
maybe i will wake up again to
live a life i know i could
find but only to dream
distorted enough harmonious existence
@ my own modern tyme.
KARTOG
I take it you're not going to make
this easy, are you?
Ext- City street p.o.v. behind the guy in the rumpled sharkskin
sportscoat- night
SHARKSKIN MAN stands on the corner with a cardboard sign... with
greasy ballcap held at waist level. A little girl, AMERIKA
the GIRL, smiling approaches with her parents out for the
day in the City. As she spots SHARKSKIN MAN she casts her
eyes downwards to avoid the vision of the spectacle. She
clutches her mother's hand tightly with a guilty little girl smile.
Close of SHARKSKIN MAN's weathered blue eye reflecting
little girl nervously turning her head to wave a slow motion
'secret' meloncholy wave. SHARKSKIN MAN's eye reflects urban
sunset. A beautiful hearse rolls into the sunset.
ext- sundown hearse ride- night
Reflections of streetlife are seen through the sidepanels of hearse
(new Cadillac) Sidewalk a capella group sound -'Boom, Boom,
Boom, Boom... gonna shoot you right down'- street life is
one giant god damned R. Crumb cartoon.
Int- MAX SHARP REMOVER- night int. hearse sound changing
from wild jazz (cirrca 40's-50's) to classic rock
(70's-80's)
MAX SHARP
Know your problem. That is the
whole of the truth. Are you listening
to me? Am I coming off to
moralistic for you? Can you hear
me? Know your problem? You don't
know WHO your enemies are. Fer
chrissake, look at you! What are
you? 20? 24? Gaa! You haven't got a
care in the world. Listen to me. Just
shut up and listen to me for once
in your life. You're doing it to yourself.
Ah-ha... Ah-ha... see? Can you hear
me or are you too busy listening to
that lousy little voice skippin'
like a broken fuckin' record... IN
YOUR HEAD. Hello?! You're doin' it
to yourself.
VERLO
(confused) (beat) But...
MAX SHARP
No! No 'buts' about it. Just shut
up and listen to someone else for a
change. You need a job. With a job
comes discipline and respect. Do you
understand anything I'm sayin',
ovah heah? With discipline and
respect comes all the good things
in life. A wife (for starters),
some kids (that's your progeny
factor), and then you can buy all
the toys you want. Waddaya wanna die
without any toys? First things
first... get a freakin' job. I've
got many friends who have many
opening in VERY lucrative
buisnesses in this town. You need
cash? You wanna work? Get a fuckin'
job. I can get you a job. Smart guy like
you,... 'n I don't want nothin' out
of it. Jesus! You don't know how
lucky you are, do ya? Tha guy back
there in that sharkskin jacket
would be comin all over himself...
but YOU... you're sittin' here...
ridin' 'round in my hearse; on my
dime... cool as a cantalope...
without a care in the world...
ain't got a pot to piss in or a
window to throw it out...
VERLO
(pointing) It's the next
corner to the left.
MAX SHARP
(disbelieving chuckle) & to
you this is all part of an
incredibly long hitchiking
coma dream. (whistles) All
fuel for your fire, right?
Well,... the free rides are
drawing to a close, pally. Ya
gotta shape up or ship out.
(MAX makes the left and stops
the curb) This isn't over. I
want you to think about what
I've said here. D'ya hear me?
I want you to think about it.
(offering a simple buisness
card - Max Sharp- Removals)
Next time I see you, I don't
wanna hear no bitchin' 'n
whinin' about the sorry state
of society or headspins or any
kinds of intrigues involving
anything other than butt ass naked
babes rolling around in a pool
of buttery orange lizards.
VERLO
(putting on sunglasses and
opening door) Yeah, o.k., thanks
for the lift.
MAX SHARP
Hey! Don't forget what I said. Get
outta your head... shut up and
listen to someone else for a
change... and get a fuckin' job...
before I step outta this hearse and
kick your ass, you little freak!
CUT TO:
Ext- out on the street through window of hearse- night
VERLO
(finger to lips) Max,
Shhhhhh... I brought you into this
world and I can remove you
just as easily.
Ext- outside the Theater- night
The hearse disappears. Verlo standing in a high velocity sea of
taxicabs. He steps up on the curb. Theater is non-descript
looking brick walled joint with one orange neon sign jutting
towards the street -TEATRO-
X-FADE:
Tom Morrow's Apocalyptic FreakShow circus- An orgy of sound and
color, shape and movement in the middle of the desert.
EXT- Tales to bonfire freaks- night
TOM MORROW
Gabrianna, the pasty pus filled tapioca complexioned hooker, lived
not too far away on Palm tree Blvd, this boulevarde was a
ridiculous attempt to sooth the So-Cal homesick blues. She
lived with a mélange of whores, all equal in their
conniving. An elder whore would walk the streets outside
their flop home spitting with disgust - Ya know what their
problem is ? (pointing towards the children towards the turn
of the century) They think their so fuckin' cute, that's
what!- So we would laugh so hard we almost soiled our
trousers. In those days, all the hookers would stay @ home
or @ least behind designer sunglasses if they did decide to
brave the noise of modern street level. YES! It was rare to
find a young meta-physician wandering the wastelands even in
those days. Those old forms didn't work any more, my sweethearts.
There's no room for the milk of human kindness, if you see
where I'm going with this. Driving back across town, from
the stripmall, a couple noticed a kid hitchhiking from the
movie theater. Alfred and his wife (Barbra) cut me off in
their family sedan and so I was forced to sit in this
taxicab and elucidate to the cab driver my version of what
may be being (Oh, I like that!) discussed by Barbie and
Freddy. Barbara [by birth, Barbie to Freddy], sez she thinks
he should put some sunblock on if he's gonna stand out in
the desert hitchhiking, in the middle of August.
"You've heard what they've been saying about the heavy UV rays
& the thin atmosphere. That boy could end up deeply scarred
for life. Freddy, let us give him a ride. @ least to the
next truckstop."
"You see what you're asking me to do here, Barbie? You want me
to go against my #1 rule for YOUR safety. Don't pick up
hitchhikers. PERIOD. I go against the rule & then it doesn't
mean anything anymore. If I didn't marry you in a Catholic
church I would swear you were Gnostic. Let him get a job if
he wants a ride. For all we know he's a terrorist of some
sort."
After I explained my version to my chauffer he offered this finely
crafted verse... simply titled DreamHiking...
THE HIKER HIKES THE DREAMER DREAMS NEVER
BETWEEN THE TWO SHALL BE MAN OF WEALTH
NOT CUNNING MONKEY
Nor Performing Ponies In
A T
V's FuckShitUp & WHOLLY HOLEY
The assorted freaks laugh and scream and protest and dance around
the campfire underneath the stars.
INT.- SLEEPING CHAMBER-
CLOSE ON THE FACE OF VERLO
VERLO
(v.o.)
Frankenstien never made a monster like me. Not that my brutish
looks would lead to any contrary speculation.
Though, it is true I was raised by monsters and two-legged wolves.
Transylvania was not to be my spawning ground.
It was another planet entirely. A planet called Amerika.
EXT- NEON SPRAWL- NIGHT
METAL LIGHTS FLASHING, AS A LONELY FIGURE TRODS, UPON THE
NOW VACANT PAVEMENT OF AFTERTIME. A busted television shows
CITY OF THE FUTURE SCRAPED FROM THE DISCARDED REFUSE OF THE
PAST. OVERCAST BLEAKNESS RADIATES FROM THE SKY, AS INSECTS
GO ABOUT THEIR VARIED AND SUNDRY TASKS. LOADING AND ASSEMBLING
BECOME THE FOREMOST PRIORITIES IN COLLECTIVE MENTALITIES.
SHINING BEACONS OF CONFORMITY FORM TRIBAL CLANS TO PRODUCE
NOMADIC GODZ. PERSONALIZED TIN PLATES DISTINGUISH PREFRENCES
AND SIGNAL DIFFERENCE. 'I BRAKE FOR BRAINY LEMURS' 'MY OTHER
CAR IS PUBLIC TRANPORTATION' & 'KEEP ON TRUCKIN'. GRAYISH BLUE
SMOKE ENVELOPES THE ATMOSPHERE. MULTI COLORED BIRDS CONVERSE
BENEATH THE POWERLINES.
INT- TOXIC 24HR DINER- NIGHT
COCKY WAITRON
(Chirping in a light hearted
manner) The ketchups as red as
always.
VERLO
(v.o. while ordering food) A
friendly grimace washes over
my faceplate, even as thoughts
of dissection and a faint
smirk caress my brain. My
X-Ray vision totally
eliminates the usefulness of
security clothing. You can't
hide the flesh from the mind.
Staring between the long,
wooden legs, through the maw
of it's gaping, glass hole...
I feel safe and snug in this concrete
womb. This greasy spoon. My
eyes fondle the regional flora
of this monsterous and
pre-social land.
[A GIANT SIGN- 1950's Cartoon Style]
GIANT CACTUS! GET YER 'GIANT CACTUS'
POOL RAFTSâ„¢, WHILE THEY LAST, KIDZ!
VERLO
(v.o. staring at young and old
patrons)
Let me show you my tongue. How very sleek and mobile it is. It's
the cutest shade of tobacco yellow. No sunburn at all. Not
much exposure. Even less exercise. 'Why?'... 'Why?!' Is that
surprise I hear cascading from betwixt your bonefarm? Do not
patronize me, Satan. I spied your guise from the moment of
conception.With a crackling sizzle I discerned your chuckle.
COCKY WAITRON
More tea, sugar?
VERLO
No sugar. Just tea.
INT- RESTROOM BREAK- NIGHT
VERLO
(v.o.)
The porcelain and ceramic beckon ever near. Burst the main
so the silver may tinkle and clash. While the liquid
continues to flow seemingly unrehearsed art.
EXT- LEAVING THE DINER- NIGHT
Verlo walks to the taxicab. Pulls keys out of his jeans. Opens
the door.
INT- VERLO IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT- NIGHT
Verlo starts the car. Turns on the MDT. INT glows red, blue, and
green. Punches a couple of buttons. Drives away.
VERLO (V.O. WHILE CRUSING THROUGH RED
LIGHT DISTRICT)
I find myself scouring the City
with advanced technology. Invading
every private space the mind of man
has crafted. Toying with fantasy for
the sake of remaining engulfed in
reality.
(screams of trapped animal)
Yet, all the while to simply
exist in a timeframe crafted
of 100% speculation.
EXT- ALONE- NIGHT
Verlo wandering an incredibly impossible labyrinthic red-bricked
alley with alcoves dedicated to every human vice and
perversion ever dreamed while scribbling in a notepad
frantically
VERLO
(v.o.)
A different level of communication exists here. A smile
could be a 'fuck-all' of the most dangerous type. When you
take all the possibilities into consideration... an old man
on the corner; a young girl in the alley... no difference at
all. Not at all.
They hang out in tribes, hiding from the sun. The Fringe Dwellers.
The Locust Children. The Nocturnalis. The Love Babies.
Creatures crawl from every crevice devised from human
thinking.
Dancing to a never forgotten primal beat with a hint of ever expanding
alien intervention. The night air is filled with squawking
and chirping.
We all try to regain the soul hidden from the eye of televised
life. The mind runs rampant through a maze of social
interaction... and always the cactus to reconfirm beliefs of
a once upon a time.
A very heroic time where wrong were righted and vice
INT- NOCTURNAL MEAT MARKET- NIGHT
Verlo enters. Shows ID to door people. Finda a hiding spot
to watch from. Pulls out a micro-cassette, a notepad, and a
collection of pens.
VERLO
(into the micro-cassette)
I explore the outer realms. Outside my own mind. Outside
this damnable wiegh station of existence. Insects circle
ever near to learn the secrets hidden behind my eyes.
VERY HOT YOUNG THING
(probably a poetess) Waddaya
doin'?
VERLO
Expressing repulsion
VERY HOT YOUNG THING
Waddaya writin'?
VERLO
A picture of sickness.
VERY HOT YOUNG THING
Is it pretty or... sexy?
VERLO
Ma'am! Keep your mind away from me,
please. I am lycanthropic and will
gnaw your flesh from the bone. I
will rip and rend in a manner most horrific
until all that is left is a
hardened corn kernel of what your
soul used to be. Do not remain in
this gingerbread house too long, my
dear. I have recorded evidence
which shall qualify my strange
meanderings. My soul is a bus station
photo booth dedicated to the
remembrance of purity and
innocence. Those which were ravaged
on a mental plane beyond words.
Still do I watch... Still do I
paint with words stark an...
VERY HOT YOUNG THING
Hey! Waitaminit! I did not ask for
this. I did not order the 'Blue
Plate Depression Special'. I would
have fucked you had your mental landscape
of repugnant filth not repulsed me
to a point of melancholy. You, sir,
are of no use to me nor any other
living creature. I would kill you
but I play by the rules of
conformity and structure. Good-Bye.
You
(beat) Freak.
VERLO
(Screaming from the top of the
bar)
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!? MY LOVE?!
MY SOUL?!
(to himself) But, then again, (beat) What would I lose? My soul
is insectoid! EAT,KILL, & FUCK! (Addressing the very hot,
young thing who is more than likely a poetess) I DO NOT ASK
FOR YOUR FORGIVNESS, MY LABIA, MY CLITOROUS W/ LEGS! I DO
NOT BEG YOU TO RELISH MY NEON RAGES... Only neophiles flirt
with DEPRAVITY...THE BELL TOLLS TO THE TELLING TONE OF... (beat.
Sticks his face under a beer tap and takes a long pull) LAST
CALL!
Bar patrons applaud with drunken enthusiasm as VERY HOT
YOUNG THING rushes out the door.
INT- SLEEP RESEARCH FACILITIES MONITORING ROOM- NIGHT
Kartog looks over the shoulder of the Intern. The are watching
various video monitors of Verlo sleeping.
INTERN
Something has happened. I noticed a strange power surge, on the
EKG at the beginning of my shift. I recorded that surge in
my log. Next thing I knew, I found myself pulling the Ace of
Spades in a game of solitaire I was involved in on the
system. This entire strangeness hinges on two facts. A)- I
don't play solitaire and B)- there is no software for the
game of solitaire loaded on any of Science League's
computers.
KARTOG
What happened directly after you noticed the EKG surge?
INTERN
I feel as though there was a temporal displacement, Doctor. What
was it? Ten minutes?
KARTOG
I would like you to write a private report for me of everything
you just told me. It stays between us though. I nee to make
certain that this information falls into the 'right' hands.
Take the rest of the night off. Write the report and
personally deliever it to me tommorrow by three o'clock.
INT- VERLO SLEEPING FACE- NIGHT
Verlo is hooked up to the Sleep Research machines. Kartog &
Intern are talking in a glass partitioned control booth.
MOREEN
(v.o.) When did this start? The very first dream of humanity lying
around a bonfire in the stariest night ever imagined...
Through the deepest mid-wynter sleep with dancing flame
shadows glistening of the crystal quartz... The dreams come
when they are needed, as do the dreamers.
Verlo enters the dimension of dreaming being spit onto the plane
wrapped within a bag of fluid. The bag bursts. Verlo (his
physical being) is composed of nerve endings and arteries
only. He walks to a 'closet' and dons a suit of flesh.
DREAM IMAGE 3 - CIRCULAR
Verlo walking towards an unseen point upon an infinite flat and
desolate plane. This is illumined via constant, perfect
florescent. Shadows and sound from the horizon leak through.
Verlo notices a great amount of movement on the horizon but,
everything is somehow murkily indiscernable. Verlo notices a
serpentine pattern of movement approaching. He focuses on
this movement. The serpentine pattern draws closer. Verlo
squints confufusion. As the serpentine movement draws nearer
it assumes the shape of a mutant canine, finally stopping
directly in front of Verlo's position. This 'dog' is a large headed,
smooth-skinned freak of nature. It whips out a digital,
pixelized tongue of pythonic proportions, lasso-ing in the
air overhead. It shakes its ass as happy dogs are known to
do. Its ass is the newborn flesh of a human child. It
completes these motions by planting it's front paws (which
are well formed miniature, body-building forearms)on top of
the 'ground'. It sits there waiting for something.
VERLO
(internal voice) What the hell is this?
FREAK DOG
(external voice) I'm Invincible.
The surface of the dream plane in a diameter of ten feet begins
to spin. Verlo stabilizes himself. The solid disk levitates
while spinning. The disk rises into the blackness of
nothing. Around the disk colored points of light 'BWOP!'
into existence. Three lights (red, blue, & green) begin to
circle the disk at ever increasing velocity.
VERLO
(internal voice with a snarl towards the FREAK DOG) This is your
doing isn't it?
FREAK DOG
(smiling and panting, obviously happy, external voice)
The circle of spinning lights has now turned into a high
wall of white luminance. A mischevious dryad, an erotic
witch, a mermaid priestess, and a queenly prostitute, all
approach from the wall of light. Freak Dog seems oblivious.
Verlo panics in search of a hiding place.
DRYAD
Oh, look... he's scared. Ha-ha-ha...
PROSTITUTE
Maybe he doesn't want us here.
The mermaid slides up to VERLO. Grabs him by the jaw and the back
of the neck. She whisper chants in his ear.
MERMAID
Ver-shh-la-ahm-shan-ra
The erotic witch dances around raising pillars of fire and groaning
a supreme orgasm.
CHILDOOD NURSERY RYHME VOICE
The little dog laughed To see such a sport... (record skip) the
little dog laughed to see such a sport (record skip) ect...
MOREEN
We are your brides who won't be silenced through the darkest night
of your soul or the most consuming joy... Your dreams Our
castle...
Prostitute and Dryad both approach. Both kiss one ear. Mermaid
and Witch slap either side of Verlo's face. Prostitute and
Dryad both rip off one ear each. Mermaid and Witch both
begin to make love to Verlo. Freak Dog is looking into
Verlo's eyes and panting. The dream fades.
FADE IN:
EXT- ALONG A HIGHWAY- DAY (1966)
Shadowman is seen, in the distance, hitching while walking along
the highway. His thumb is slung low at the hip. He carries a
pack across his right shoulder.
SHADOWMAN
(singing) Well... Next time I'm travelin' In style F.M. 67
Is only one mile Next Time I'm travelin' in style F.M. 67
Gonna be here in a while Got my thumb out My knees they bend
backwards Got my hat on So I don't catch No sun fever But...
Next time I'm travelin' in style F.M. 67 It's only one
FADE IN:
EXT- ABANDONED STRIP MALL REVIVAL- NIGHT
Husks of fiberglass are flamining in an overgrown asphalt garden.
Tom Morrow and his apocalyptic desert freak show are
TOM MORROW
(more than a couple sheets to the wind) He never did
anything right. His entire life has been spent tripping
through curtains and situations considered abnormal by the
mass structure of society. His mother had to say about him,
at a very young age 'You always step into shit and come out
smelling like roses.' His youth was a steaming dungheap,
which he stepped out of when the stench became unbearable
enough. Taxis, bars, poetry venues... this is the sewage he
traded for the bilge pool he was born into. Liar, thief,
cynic were the labels indelibly etched upon conception.
Although he conducted his life dance in the haughty manner
of displaced nobility, the bastard mark of Cain was upon him
so people shivered when he came close. He tried lying to
himself [that thing about all men being created equal, those
which god has ordained let no man rend asunder] but usually
refuted himself in the end, spending all of both his time
and money to wallow in self professed superiority, while
damning all structure. This crazy monkey had a weird vision
which lead him to believe, if he could hang in there a
little longer, he would be able to manifest himself as the
image he believed to be the truth, within his soul. Here and
there through his travels, his life dance, there came
increments where the Universe smiled. These are where he
formulated his concepts of truth and spiritualism. He shouted
"THE UNIVERSE IS GOD & SHE LOOKS AFTER HER BABIES, LOVERS, & LIAISONS!!"
to no one in particular. This he did whenever moonbeams
bounced off water, neon beaconed through the night, rats ran
through abandoned buildings, or beautiful, sad faces were
streaming with tears.
MS. SERENA (pre-op T.V.) What are you talking about, man? Literary
fiction of a philosophical bent? How much green is that
worth? Is it fire? That's the commodity. Especially here &
now. No, more fish or crabs for you, psychomeat! You just
sit there & keep spilling that funny 'HA-HA' & maybe, maybe,
maybe, MAYBE we won't charge you anymore than we do normally.
Hell, we'd tax the pigeons if we could squeeze a nickel
outta those flying rats!
TOM MORROW
It's gotta be worth something to somebody. How about a sunrise?
How about a sunset? Is your's Paradise? Can you scare the
shit outta US? That's what we need! Some way to pimp your
ass out so we can squeeze the lifeblood outta these
miserable meatbag bastards. Then we'll pull out our squeegee
& make it all clean. Get some of the boys in the chemical
dept. To cook us up some concoctions to make everybody think
that this shit will wash off of 'em easier than those
tattoos yer sportin' over there. Ya see, son, yer working
under, what we in the business call,... the 'old double
whammy'. Yer damned if you do & yer damned if you don't.
Some days you think your so close you can almost smell it
lying on your tongue, next thing you know, some piss ant
from the other side of the food chain, snitches to his
superiors that you may have some traumatic mental
disfunctions, so you don't save the world, ya don't get the
girl, couldn't even get a kick to the ass if you paid for
it. Cruel pranks. That's what I call it. Yeah, sure I've got
my own reasons for wanting to help you out, but I won't
speak too loudly about them. Suffice to say, there's a
couple power brokers in this Universe that could use a
little whoop ass. & besides, I like the style. I believe
forces have marshaled against VERLO, simply because of who
he is. I say screw 'em! If they wanna piece of this, their
more than welcomed to it. And I'm not the only Defense barrister
on the Cosmic Council who feels this way. Don't think we're
alone out here. We're being watched EVERY single moment. So
kidz,... before you get out there, rippin' the holy hell
outta everything that eats, shits, or fucks... even though
you are locust children born on the edge of the world during
mobius twilight... DO WHATCHA WANNA DO... BUT! TAKE CREDITS
FOR YOUR OWN WORKS OF ART and don't get caught stealin' it
if it ain't worth two pieces of paper and a wet turd. This
concludes this tranzmission. Big barbeque tommorrow at
Cactus Jack's Peyote Ranch. pleae remember to bring your own
personal lubricants..................... to the
NIGHT!ight..., ight..., ight..., ect & etc.
EXT- TERMINAL CITY RUNWAY- NIGHT Verlo is wandering @ the foot
of Terminal City's runway... Giant metal birds are roaring
overhead, one following the other so closely, almost too
closely, like thorzined elephants holding each others tail
with their trunk [RRRZZZZMMMSHHHShhhhshh]
INT- TERMINAL CITY AIRPORT- NIGHT
VERLO
(v.o) Night is night with these poor bastards pouring into Terminal
City praying to Saint Freak-o Spend-o Apathetic-o The
following sound montage to capture a hyper-frantic
International ambiance found in busy airports.
[RRRZZZZMMMSHHHShhhhshh] [tune of a rancher's mission
statement 'Scalp 'em... Count 'em... brand 'em & cut 'em
lose!] [RRRZZZZMMMSHHHShhhhshh] [¡Aye-essio! ¡ OLÈ !] Verlo
is staring at his own reflection in busy airport mirrored
surfaces
VERLO
(v.o.) it's a parade! Yeahhhh YEA! dirty fuck stains running through
to avoid the eyes of stories they would never believe unless
televised or movie critics put their thumbs up... CUT TO:
EXT- EDGE OF THE RUNWAY- NIGHT
Verlo standing on the edge of the runway VERLO ...maybe NOT EVERYBODY
is cut from the same lame golden pattern or the decrepit
garbage bag pattern or the blue jeaned bull dagger pattern
or the huMAN warehouse pattern (sound- airplane jets)
[RRRZZZZMMMSHHHShhhhshh] static transmission with a nighthawk
flying parallel to a jet and digitally scanning the
landscape surrounding the airport. The nighthawk finally
passes over VERLO and shits on his shoulder.
VERLO
(v.o.) (RECORDING with a micro-cassette the following story as
it is happening) ...massive metal birds are flying parallel
& directly east of the Terminal City Train line, which is,
subsequently, also east of the North bound freeway... which
doesn't help me very much, as i am looking for East or maybe
South bound. i run into a pizza parlor connected to a neon
red bowling alley called Alteca Bowl @ the intersection
of... Now get this... TONGUE & LICK... i laugh with the
signpost which is bored and staring up from the concrete...
the pizza parlor is also a Cajun food restaurant... they've
got crawdad file gumbo jambalaya... all writ up good &
proper on some cardboard with magic markers... all the
prices laid out right there, everybody can see 'em... i ask
the Ethiopian brother "Excuse me. Do you know if there's a
truckstop around here?" "Oh,... I'm not sure." He then
beckons to the cat i suppose owns the joint & this cat has
glassy eyes of goldfish bowls that haven't been cleaned
since you bought the goldfish ((they never make head-on
contact with you)) but he seems a very pleasant, helpful
character who sez to me "Ya gotta go out there... @ the edge
of town... you remember that big ol'...? they usta have all
those truckstops out there... Now there's just that one."
"Is there a bus i can take out there?" he looks @ me for a
moment to see if i'm pulling his leg or what. Everybody out
here knows..."Ya got take the 66 out there." "Where would i
catch this bus?" "You go down by the Jack-In-the-Crack & the
Amerikan Fried Chicken then take a right when you get to the
Taco Bowl..." " i appreciate your help. One more
question..." he seems into laying knowledge down to the
wayward traveler so i decide to extract one more piece of
info "How much do these buses cost?" SHOCK! now to stare directly
into my eyes "They're a dollar! Where you from?" "i just
left Terminal City on my way out to Tejas." "You should head
toward the airport then." "'i just left Terminal City'..
that means i ain't got anymore money." "I heard that! You be
careful out there, young man." i assured him i would do my
best, bid everyone in the shack an au revoir & started my
seeking out the truckstop portion of this road-show....
EXT- INTRO TO CHAOS DEAL-
Black space of theatrical design. Various moving lights, lines,
shapes, and patterns. Feels infinite and eternal.
CHAOS
(Intermitten v.o. and 'talk show' imagery)
The trail of events leading up to this point in time,space &
reality were all orchestrated through my will. Do not levy
the esposal of these events onto my charge, the author. I
reitterate, I , am the maestro, into these far reaching
image banks. The writer merely transmitted these for your edification.
WHY? Why? You ask. One hand washes the other. A different
point along the continuim, I happened upon a rare partical
of a soul. So disenfranchised was this spirit, from both the
LIGHT & DARK, I took an immediate interest. So did I query
-Why do you niether combine w/ spirits of creation or revel among
those of destruction?-
This spirit fired back, upon me, w/ an intonation to rend asunder
the very fabric of mortality.
SPIRIT of VERLO Both are equal and hold no mystery. Both are identical
boring me to a point of solidified waste. CHAOS I was taken
aback. Such an emblazoned upstart, reminded me of myself, a
few million years ago. Again did I question, for the first
time
-What of purpose, old man? To what means & end will your remedy
manifest itself?-
Through well choreographed conversation I found that this being
traversed the neither regions, redirecting souls away from
their intended paths, relieving them of sacrifical gifts
intended to be used as toll toward higher powers. A laugh
did well inside of me. Such scorn & hatred toward structure,
as rare as iced water in the infernal regions. His lives had
been loveless, therefore pity was none existant. He had
forgotten how to cry or fear on the physical planes. So was
my offer profered.
-I say, young lord, mayhaps an agreement can be agreed
upon.-
SPIRIT of VERLO -Yes! I would owe you the very fiber of my existence
for minimal wage, for exotic flesh, mayhaps some sort of
status. In this, my meaningless death, which is just as
worthless as the life I have just escaped, again.
EXT- ENTERING THE OUTSKIRTS OF A NEON CITY- NIGHT (1984)
Shadowman is standing at a scenic overlook. The neon city is one
of those built inside a bowl of mountains. After studying
the City. Shadowman douses his fire and picks up his pack
before beginning his descent into the neon city.
SHADOWMAN
(sings) There's some neon on the road Anda O-ver-cast SKY- Ayyyy
The wolf 'e is a-howlin' At the embers of my fire The city
stole my soul 'cause I believed In all it's lie Ayy-s My
friends they are all leavin' And this flame It is my
tri-.... Isle Don't trust the sunlight, my little love child/
the TV's notcher frien'/ & the rules are vile/ when yoyu get
to the end you can relax for a while/ BUT boy you clean up
your mess or boy, you'll never get home/ RUN TO THE
Moooooon/ LIiiiiiiiiight
X-FADE:
INT- HALLOWED HALLS OF NEON COURTROOM-
A courtroom of blacklight illumination. The judge's bench is a
towering aviary of prehistoric flying reptiles. The judge,
TACH SYN, strikes a match from the bench. Inhales deeply
upon the handrolled fushia emerald cigarette, extracted from
an intricatly carved chromium steel case. The theater of the
courtroom is littered with Universal Nomads, whom treat the
court as a recreational theater or a reality TV studio or a
Hells Angels Rally. His high & unholy dishonor murmers in a
grumbling growl
TACH-SYN
Oh, shit! Verlo is next on the docket. Where's the fuckin' baliff?!?
Hey,baliff!! Get yer ass in here!
MADAME FATE enters the courtroom, her arms widespread, her vocal
modulation emmulating an exotic crone. She carries an
eightball in her right hand, a heart shaped box of liquid
morphine centered chocolates in her left. Blowing kisses to
the drunk, dissheveled, & deathly gypsys, scattered throughout
the courtroom, she approaches the Judge's bench. Strutting & swishing,
she stops in front of Tach, performing a little shimmy POP!
MADAME FATE
Whatcha want, dearie?
TACH-SYN
What I want is none of what you got. The next case is a law suit
filed against Verlo, for 'failure to submit payment'.
The courtroom explodes into an earth shattering cacophony of laughter
& 'boos'. Madame Fate leans across the bench exposing
cleavage. Madame Fate sneers fingering the scar running from
Tach's forehead to chin.
MADAME FATE You've got to be kidding. Don't you remember
what happened, the last time he was here?
TACH-SYN
(under his breath)
Of course I do. (almost shouting) It took me a week
MADAME FATE
My next question is...who's suing, my sweet little baby,
this time?
TACH-SYN
(face twisted into a constipated grimace, grumbling) Fear.
Boos, hisses, & a concert of foul language echo through the
court. Tach jumps atop his bench attempts to quell the
cantankerous audience.
TACH-SYN
Don't give me any shit! If you've got a problem with it,
talk to Justice! I just work here! She's the one signing my
check! Take it up with her! And YOU! (pointing to Fate)
Bring me Verlo & step on it!
MADAME FATE
Oh, OK. Where is he?
TACH-SYN
He's Earthbound.
MADAME FATE
Smiles slyly. what's he doing down there?
TACH-SYN
He's on a date w/ Karma.
Fate klucks her tongue before continuing
MADAME FATE
OOOHHHHMMM! I wonder if he's drivin' my cousin around, or maybe...vice
versa. OK, I'll do it! This should be fun.
TACH-SYN
This court is recessed, until Fate can drag lover boy back from
that miserable mudball.
KLAK, KLAK!- sez the gavel.
INT- POINT of RE-INSERTION INTO the CHAOS DEAL-
SPIRIT of VERLO -Yes! I would owe you the very fiber of my existence
for minimal wage, for exotic flesh, mayhaps some sort of
status. In this, my meaningless death, which is just as
worthless as the life I have just escaped, again. I ask you
stranger, if your offer is an exit to this worthless reality?
If your lip service is meant to shackle me into a lie of
beauty, truth, or hope, save it for the tourist. They are
more likely to pay a higher price for your services. The
only form of currency I own is jade. As valueless a
commodity, as love or hate.
CHAOS
Touche, young lord, touche! Methinks the offer I lay at your feet,
may quench your thirst & quell the flames of your detestable meloncholy.
I own a plot of space, located conviently betwixt DEATH & PURGETORY.
A prime location. A young artist, such as yourself, would
have an endless supply of enjoyment & reward wandering
through, at all times. All that I ask for in return, is one
simple task. This task would surely cause, one such as YOU,
no inconvience, at all.
SPIRIT of VERLO Name your price, salesman, my patience grows short
& there are many sheep to fleece!
CHAOS
Pray thee, young friend, measure my words w/ a steady mind, lest
your impatience should form an impudent judgement. All that
I require, is a scribe to speak my name & sculpte my
portrait on a plane of life, entitled EARTH.
Chaos smiles at Verlo who is obviously more interested
CHAOS
(v.o.)
AH HA! Stopped deathlike in his proverbial tracks. I spied a spark
ignite at the mention of that watery ball of mud.
VERLO
And what, my dear benefactor, would be the conditions
weighed upon this glorious plot of space, whereon, lost
souls of religious inclination travel through in multitudes.
Say your name, friend, so that I may answer in a timely
fashion.
CHAOS
If you do accept the labor I lay at your feet, the space is yours,
AS YOU WISH ! Upon completion of this task, I ask for
nothing & you owe me the same. As for my name... It is one
of change & constant. I AM CHAOS.
Fractals of flowers, sex, minerals, and stars absorb the entire
scene before fading into.
INT- NEON COURTROOM
Loudspeakers blair a drumroll for Madame Fate. Entering the neon
courtroom, She's carrying the intoxicated, blacked out Verlo
in her arms w/ his head hanging back, mouth opened, snoring
a little louder than he actually needs to. Various
lacerations decorate his neanderthalian face. Judge Syn
looks toward the cieling, shaking his mohawked head from
side to side.
MADAME FATE
You asked for it, you got it. HEREEEEEEEES laughing boy!
THWHUMP! Verlo's body thuds to the ground. Drawn out of his Bacchnalian
slumber, he scopes out the courtroom, squinting his left eye
to make everything balance. Tach rapidly raps off the
charges, attempting to evoke a timely response.
TACH-SYN
You were summoned to this court upon charges of 'failure to submit
payment'. How do you plead?
VERLO
Hey! Wait a minute, here! I never saw that girl before, in
my life. How was I supposed to know she was only seventeen?
She said she was old enough to know better. SHE said she was
a Vegas showgirl. I didn't know her father was a preacher.
In the bible it sez 'BE FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY...', right?
Well, I was just...
The courtroom cheers, whistles & claps. Verlo's gaze turns
from the bench to the audience, with a smirk of 'Oh Yeah.."
recognition.
TACH-SYN
That's not what yer here for,ya fuckin' drunk.
A stronger moment of recognition washes over his hazy
reality.
VERLO
Oh yeah,.. AHHH, Judge Syn, how the hell have ya been?
Verlo jumps to his feet & faces the audience of the courtroom.
VERLO
A funny thing happened to me on the way to court. A rabbi walks
up to me w/ a pig in a dress. I say 'Excuse me, Mr. Rabbi, I
don't believe that's kosher.' He sez 'Kosher, hell that's my
mother in law.' BA DUM ba! The moral of the proverb is
STUFFING A PIG IN THE BLANKETS, IS BETTER THAN WALKING ONE
IN A DRESS. YACHT YACHT YACHT YACHT! SOOO... Tach, how the
hell's it hanging? Long time no see.
TACH-SYN
Cut the shit. Your in deep this time. The charge is 'failure to
submit payment'. The plantiff is Fear. The prosecuting
attorney is Time. Whose got yer back, man? This is serious
shit. Don't depend on your circus antics to save your ass
from going down. These guys are heavywieghts.
VERLO
AHHH, Tach you know FEAR has no home, in my MYND, BODY or SOUL.
I WILL DEFEND MYSELF W/ extremely casual vibrations of well
versified and intentional adultry!
The courtroom cheers.
VERLO
I mean adult-like behavior... Adulthood!
TACH-SYN
I hope you got a better trick than that up your sleeve.
VERLO
Everybody's a critic. I guess I'll have to pull out the big guns.
Don't start the witchhunt without me.
TACH-SYN
(screaming bloody fuckin' murder) LET THE TRIAL BEGIN!
INT- TAXICAB LOVE- DAY
Verlo stares into the rearview with strobing lights
VERLO
It seems, everytime I find someone to trust(NO MATTER HOW MUCH
THEY SAY THEY LOVE ME) my communication skills fail me.
Words twisted! Mangled by...LOVE? Nah! Let's not get stupid.
It doesn't exist, man! Hologram images, projected into
loneliness. Beautiful dryads, photographed on hazy green curtains
of smoke. There's one that wears her armour as a crown of
emeralds. So regal, SHE of the VOID. To fill the heart, an
epoch of emerald could not fill. The space which was
narrated by much creulty. RAPED, PILLAGED, & MURDERED was I.
Scorned by LOVE... CUT TO:
EXT- PULLOVER COP- DAY
THP Standing outside a purple and green taxicab.
PULLOVER COP
Scorned by love? Did you say 'SCORNED BY LOVE' Mr. Verlo? VERLO
Yes, officer, I said 'SCORNED BY LOVE'.
PULLOVER COP
Well now, that puts a whole new slant on it,duh nit? Now
see, since I know you were 'scorned by love', maybe I can
convince the judge to go just a little easier on you. What I
really need though, is your signiture right down there on
the X. If you would like to see a judge, that can be
arranged. THIS IS NOT A PLEA OF GUILTY. But hey! If you'd
like to grease the wheels of justice, so to speak, please
send a check or money order to the address on the back of
the ticket.
INT- INSIDE THE TAXI COCKPIT- DAY
MDT and neon LEDs illuminate Verlo
VERLO
No compute, Man! Totally different conspiracy. You seem to
be ignoring the fact, sir, that we are speaking in tones as
harsh & cold as concrete. I only speak in warmer, more
realistic tones, of broken hearted fools, who believe &
believe again.
EXT- VERLO STEPS FROM CAB- DAY
VERLO [ ALL W/ ELABORATE GESTURES ]
In order of importance, in days gone by, we have MOONDAY,
the day which seperates the dark from the light. That which
signifies Death seperating from Life. Can you see who I am
behind this mask, fashioned to resemble the form of a
brutish oaf? Can you see ME? Yes, of course I know what I
look like. I chose this costume, this flesh. The forever
rebirthed PHOENIX, exploding into flame to reach the next
stage of enlightenment. Why must the DRYAD of MOONDAY ever
change her mask? Unless, her only wish is to guide me through
this maze of flesh & lies painted on, in search of...the
very same treefruit Tantalus found difficulty in obtaining,
sustinance. Next comes, BLUESDAY, a day of reflection &
meaning. The patterns, of this dryad, swirl as smooth as ice
cream, through my heart. Well... not actually ice CREAM,
more like ice milk. Ice cream's chemically spawned, adopted,
stepbrother. Deeper still, PLAYDOUGHtm. Kidz love to play w/
it &...EAT IT ! Just to rip it out in no specified manner.
The DRYAD of the BLUES, the girl got a headfull of steam & a
big butt. You don't see it coming? Get off the tracks, man!
It's a fast one! As I shout ' I want to hold this one, just
for a minute!' I didn't know it but the train actually does
keep rolling all night long. I thought it was just some old
song that kept playing in my head, for A MUSE MEANT purposes only.
WOW! Maybe I'll walk backwards to see where I'm going. In
matters of such. From this point on. HUEVOS DIAS A rest
period, time out, if you will. To draw energy from the
planet, shrouded by humans. Moving forward to destroy the past,
of failure & ignorance. This DRYAD is Young, Fertile, & Unaccoustomed
to the ways of man. The same mistake over & over & over again.
THOR'SDAY Whereas the destructive forces of humanity,
become a thing of beauty. I thought that this was
understood, the coincidental aspects of life on this planet.
The YIN. The YAN. I owe you nothing. NO EXPLAINATIONS,
PLEASE! The time you have wasted, was yours to do w/ as you
wished. Thor's DRYAD is a lusty battleaxe, as if Elvis were
a female wrestler...Baby, I was wrong for ever letting you
go. I will feel this mistake until the day, RIGOR MORTIS is
my favorite form of exercise. Before that day, I will
probaly feel it again. AND AGAIN. Don't take it too hard. I
chose you. FRIA'SDAY A day to choose new meat. The Earth
Mother updates her stud service. Still trying to figure out
why this DRYAD, is a beautiful fat chick? All the skinny
legs understand. Still trying to figure out why I shoved my
cock back into my jeans, & walked right out the door? If it
only means something to me I would rather just go swimming
in your MYND. The reason I did? A different time...A
different day...A different me.
PULLOVER COP
That's all fine & well, son, but there's still the small matter
of this ticket. Let me see what we got here. You were doin'
one hundred sixty in a twenty mile an hour zone. You clipped
a jaywalker, we'll let that slide though. Damn fool,
shouldn't be playin' in the middle of traffic. Your car is
decorated w/ symbols of anti christianity. And lastly you
are an eyesore, to the state of humankind. Let me
see...twenty...fifty...a hundred...two...four...your fine is
five thousand dollars.
VERLO
If you would allow me to finish officer THE ALMIGHTY SATURN'S
DAY Whereas the pent up paper pushers, are encouraged to
allow their super egos to run amok, in order to devastate
the spirit plane through means of Earthly debauchery & vice.
MONEY/ALCHOL/ABUSE A repugnant oder wafts through the air.
This DRYAD is a party girl, keeping careful tally of Karma points.
If she's drunk & passed out, an excellent opportunity for
you to score in a big way. Either positive or negative. You
cast the final ballot. You may feel the urge to humiliate
her in moments of alcoholic abandon. GO AHEAD! SHE'S running
a tab for you. ALL HAIL SORROW'SDAY Roll over & see what
you bought &/or what bought you. REMEMBER THAT TAB? How's
yer head feel? This room doesn't look familiar, does it? The
vertical shadows scream 'IMPRISONMENT!' Time of
retrospection, my friend. AND...Oh, by the way...your tab is
past due. This dryad is vengful & callous. SHE speaks w/ a
firey swift sword & SHE doesn't take checks! The verdict has
been rendered. Everyone is watching you, as you are lead to
the BOX of PAIN & GUILT. The buxom DRYAD of SATURN is
nowhere to be found. SORROW'SDAY draws the galactic plan to
a close. The Dragon Eats It's Own Slop. SLEEP THIS ONE OUT.
PULLOVER COP
I don't think you have a real clear image of what's going on here,
son. I have been appointed by forces beyond your realm, your
little fantasy world. I'm talking about the retrobution of
your crimes. RETALIATION from the LONG ARM. Your blood will
be paid in gold. If you don't fork over the monies, your
fine will be extracted through the sweat & tears chiseled
from your soul. At which time we violate your FREEDOM in a
penal system, which proves all men aren't actually equals.
There are men who BELONG imprisoned Those who refuse the
collar & leash society allows them to wear. SOOOO... wadda
ya say, son? Can ya get the five grand or would you prefer
to stay in a government facility, conviently located
downtown. It's kinda like an introduction, where we break
your spirit. Then we send you to eek out a dismal existence,
far from civilizised man & his world of rules. So pay up or
shut up. I ain't got all day.
INT- LOCKDOWN & SHUT UP- DAY
Images of desperate caged prisoner and lunatic gaurds. Rusty bars.
Lots of insects. Stale food [sound- KA SHLANK KA]
VERLO
(v.o.) Caged as a wild animal is caged! My rogish exploits have
earned me a place among societies most intrepid villians. My
master leaves my cell jangling keys, while whistling an old
'nigger work song'. My reality comes crashing down upon me,
invading my eyes, ears, & nose. The enviornment is room
temperture, the floor as icy as the SIBERIAN SURF. Just as the
glares of my new neighbors. Dissecting my brain, they catch
a whiff of fluids produced by my adrenal glands. No reason
to start a conversation, I do not wish to communicate w/
these..these CONVICTS. Who could imagine what sort of
depravity lurks behind their collective & beady eyes. The
unshaven masses, how truly criminal they appear. Unmoving,
yet watching my every movement w/ anticipation. The
crouching beasts, waiting for a slip, a flaw, an uneasiness
to my gait. A subtle ballet of uncertainty unfolds, as the
silence grows thick as gelitan. I move in a methodical
manner, to create a current only I can traverse. This path I
have chosen, only I can travel. I stretch out on a cot, to
educate all to the fact of how smooth & sleek I envision
myself. I decipher the runes on the cieling 'PACO90 JUICE
CREW' 'JIMMY GAT' 'WESTSIDE DUKES #1' HARK! Footsteps
approaching from the commons, heavy w/ a slight limp produced
by the left leg.
PRISONER 1.1
Ya need a smoke?
VERLO
no, thanks. PRISONER 1.1 What are you in for, dude? VERLO Because
I offend society.
PRISONER 1.1
Yo , they got me for armed robbery. Can ya get to that?
Crazy shit. I told this freaked out cab driver I was gonna
rob him. He threw my ass outta the cab & started kicking me
w/ these steel toed shoes. MUTHAFUKA broke my fuckin'
ankle. Then he jumps back inda cab & drives on down the road.
Now I got a broken ankle, can't walk, so the cops pick me up
for crawlin' through the sewer. Now ain't that a bitch, he
breaks MY ankle, & I go to jail. I'm going to see if my
public defender can sue his ass. Shit, man you can't do shit
like that. I'm going to make alot of money off his ass. Do
you wanna play some dominoes or cards, dude?
INT- MASS MEDIA REHABILITATION ROOM- DAY
In TV Room filled with hyper-active television viewers RULE #1
(STATED with ROYAL BLUE MAGIC MARKER on cardboard taped to
the TV) -DoNot TOUCHthe TV!- (sic)
VERLO
(v.o.) In a room filled w/ sexually deprived deviants, watching
former obese women expound their need/craving for orgasam,
the most wise course of action would be to refer back to
rule #1. Sorrow eradicates wisdom.
Verlo is standing and walking solemnly towards the TV)
VERLO
(v.o.) When a thin woman breaks your heart, the pain is
sharp & well defined, like a razor doing figure eights on
your chest. A heart stomping by a full figured woman is
another commodity altogether. Imagine, if you can, being
blindfolded & tossed into a bottomless pit. After falling for
close to three years, rip off the blindfold, screeching at
the top of your lungs "I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO FALL, IN
ORDER TO LOVE YOU!" THAWUNK! You hit the crystalline plane
w/ the force of a juggernaut. Upon the exact moment of impact,
a bank vault crashes around your ears. You bang on the five
foot thick door to no avail. It's a timelock, man! You gotta
do your time, in the LOCKDOWN of LOVE.
Verlo pulls up a garbage can. Uses it as a stepping stool. Grabs
the TV with both hands.
PRISONER 1.2
Say man, I was watchin' that shit ! PRISONER 1.3 Yo dog yer gonna
get ganked!
VERLO
(v.o.) The air grew thick, as my asshole puckered w/ the knowledge,
this could be my final idiotic gesture. I briskly rotated
the antiquated channel selector, until finally I slammed my
right fist into the combonation power/volume knob, ending my
flurry of frenzied video images. Silence smothered my fellow
terrorist. I pivoted to meet the disbelieving stare of cell
block 'C' (lunatic preachy) WE'ER NOT PLAYING THEIR GAME ANY
LONGER! They imprison US, then expect US to suck the dick of
the lying media whores. FUCK THAT SHIT! WE ARE THE OUTLAWS!
We are the one's w/ no place in the 'MAN'S' society.
PRISONER 1.3 OH, SHIT WHITE BOY'S DONE GONE SECTION EIGHT!
VERLO
kRaZy? KRaZEE! If I'm a lunatic because I believe that society
is the real crime against US..THEN, SO BE IT! If YOU
believe, it has any right to shove these stereotypical roles
of good & evil, down our throats, then go ahead & turn on
this labotomy tube. I will watch quietly as you are
programmed into this wicked, wicked society.
The slap of barefeet on polished marble, a klick & the TV lived
once more. The first image that appeared, on screen, was
LIBERACE pulling off a reptile costume(?) proceeding to eat
a TO GO box of fried rice, his only utensil, his tongue. The
rice was actually maggots. Verlo vomits on the jailhouse
floor as the outlaws laugh on track.
CUT TO:
INT- THE DRYAD OF SORROW GOES THE BAIL- DAY
FAT COP stands outside the holding cell with a list of names on
a little piece of paper. As he reads the paper he balls it
up and throws it down.
FAT COP VERLO...TROY...VAUGHN...LET'S GO. YER GETTIN'
PROCESSED OUT. SHOULD ONLY TAKE A COUPLE HOURS.
TROY BOUT MUTHAFUKIN' TIME.
VAUGHN COOL
VERLO WHAT WAS THAT SOUND?
It starts on the floor below & blows through the jailhouse
like an angry child. Flowing with the elegant beauty of
lava. Chrome women appear with lazer pistols firing. Carving
a swathing path through the city jail. ANDROID WOMEN TO THE
RESCUE! Destroying the oppressor & releasing the oppressed.
No need for processing. The final retribution has arrived!
Stern chromium faces are incapable of reflecting emotions.
The gamut is run! The ace card is played! All rise to the
final verdict. All hail, the Flower Maidens of SORROW'SDAY.
CUT TO:
INT- PRESENTATION ROOM OF DREAM RESEARCH FACILITIES- DAY-
An emergency meeting has been called.
KARTOG
We are going to have to stop this project. The subject has corrupted
the findings of our research. I feel that if we continue
along the projected path we shall be subjected to
manipulated data. I, therefore am requesting a halt in this
research until a more stable subject can be located.
A general murmur of disbelief
ELDER SCIENTIST
Are you telling us you are unable to handle this project?
The Science League has spent a great deal to ensure the
success of this project. We will not be denied this, Doctor.
KARTOG
You do not seem to understand. Verlo is manipulating the outcome
of this research
flashes of Intern playing solitaire, Verlo making love to Kartog,
Kartog driving past hitch-hiking Verlo, Verlo smiling while
hooked into the Dream Research computers.
Even the data I have processed this far seems to have
ELDER SCIENTIST
Could we have an example of this 'corruption', Doctor?
Kartog remote controls a video of herself wearing an orange sweater
while attaching wires to Verlo
KARTOG
In this video I start talking about Atlantis. The truth is I have
never recorded a comment on Atlantis throughout this entire
experiment. The point remains, there it is, Atlantis
IT SCIENTIST
Maybe it's only a problem on the playback device. I don't know
if it's enough to warrant a total eradication of the data
we've collected up to this point.
KARTOG
Even a trivial point of contention distorts the research. I don't
know how this is happening or even if it truly is a master
plot devised by Verlo, but the fact is, our data collection
has been comprimised. The only way we would be able to carry
on with this research is to clear the entire slate. I am
proposing we find another 'dreamer' and compare the Verlo9
data to the new findings.
ELDER SCIENTIST
My god, Doctor. This research has been going on for six years.
Now you tell us that we are going to have to file it away
because of data corruption? It has been extremely difficult
to find a 'rara avis' sleeper in the first place. The next
thing you tell us is there is no way we can use what we have
found to profit our research. If I didn't know you better,
Susan, I might think you are attempting to hide something
from us. Is there something you have neglected to tell us
concerning your relationship with this subject?
KARTOG
I have made no contact with this subject outside these facilities...
but...
Another general murmur of disbelief.
ELDER SCIENTIST
'...but...'?
KARTOG
My dreams have become Verlo's dreams.
LEAD PSYCHOLOGIST
This is not uncommon. When researchers spend a great deal of time
dissecting the dreams of their subjects there is a 'sleep
leak' which may seem times rather un-nerving or uncanny.
Nothing new. That goes at least as far back as Freud.
KARTOG
You don't seem to understand. Before I started this research my
dreams were barely memorable. Now I find that my own dreams
meet me in broad daylight. It's not something I find
terrifying. It is, however, something which I believe has no
place within my scientific findings. This is the reason I am seeking
to temporarily halt research until another dreamer is
located.
ELDER SCIENTIST
Though I thouroghly understand your intrepidation at continuing,
Doctor, our backing is being assigned review in this
upcoming quarter. The research must go on.
KARTOG
I guess it's my turn... I don't think I'm making myself
clear.
ELDER SCIENTIST
Quite the opposite, Doctor. You have made yourself as clear as
crystal. That is why I am giving you an emergency vacation.
Don't worry about your things. We will have them shipped as
soon as you tell us where you end up. Ladies and gentlemen,
this meeting is adjourned.
All scientists look to one another questioningly. The elder scientist
is the first to rise. He turns his back.
ELDER SCIENTIST
This meeting is adjourned.
All scientists rise and leave, except for Kartog. She stands with
her hands on the table very silently.
VERLO
(v.o) The lady with the crimson eyes She tried to give me direction
through my dreams These dreams came after or right before
Can't be sure of the timeline yet
X FADE:
EXT- DREAM PLANE- GREY/GREEN/BLUE DISMAL
Kartog is sitting on a stone. Verlo approaches. Kartog looks up
with crimson eyes. She seems as if she is locked into
extreme meloncholy.
VERLO
As soon as I open my eyes My body gets tossed into a
blender. The straight world squints back with a chuckle and
a sneer At hazy flowers sillohutted against the Sun and Moon
At mermaid smiles with green hair
Kartog looks to Verlo and mouths words as if she were giving him
directions along the roadway.
VERLO
The Lady with the crimson eyes She offered direction But she held
something else Directly behind those crimson eyes Something
dealing with sadness, maybe a little pain I listened very
hard to the words she did not say I wanted to pick her and
carry her away Away from the pain (ECHO: Away from the pain)
derived through a pride (ECHO: derived through her pride) I
was snatched from my dreams by the real world Snatched from
my dreams of the lady With the crimson eyes
FADE IN:
EXT- Tropical Beach with white sand & palm trees- Day
A cabana with a thatched roof is a fifty yards from the crystal
blue surf. A hammock is stretched between two palm trees.
Women from the Gauguin painting -Arearea- are bringing
fruits and vegetables to the cabana. CUT TO: Amerika's feet
in clear, blue surf. Amerika walking along the surf. She
picks up gold coins, playing cards (Ace of Hearts & King of Clubs),
and a white rose. She hears a great deal of excitement
coming from the cabana. She focuses to see the women leaving
the cabana laughing and smiling. She follows her footprints
back towards the cabana. There are some monkeys above the
roof of the cabana chattering away.
CUT TO:
INT- Inside the cabana- cont
Inside the cabana is a little monkey, with brilliant pink balls,
eating a tropical fruit. The monkey looks at Amerika and
smiles before taking a fruit and spliting through the window
of the cabana. Amerika walks to the table holding the fruit.
Amerika lays down her found treasures. She moves through the
cabana where Verlo is sleeping. As Amerika approaches a
large female cat -meows- Amerika puts her finger to her
lips.
AMERIKA
Shhh... no le despiertes..
The cat and the animals split. Amerika contemplates the sleeping
Verlo. AMERIKA Good morning, my Love. Ready to wake up? Or
maybe you would rather sleep more, eh?
Verlo props himself on his elbows. Amerika leaves to the other
room. She returns with fruit.
AMERIKA
How did you sleep?
FADE OUT:
The End
98
Return to SimplyScripts.com
This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved.
This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express
written permission of the author.
-------------------------