Baby Hair(another screenplay notion)
Duke rode past the Dollar General on his bike. A short, overweight girl with her hair pulled back smoked a cigarette in a 96 Honda Accord with all the windows down. She gave Duke a look when he went past. Something stirred in him, and just as quickly went away.
He turned the bike onto Potentate Street and kept an eye out for his employer's car, which she said would be home. A Cadillac DTS. He soon found it, went up to the front door, and was allowed inside by a lady who could have easily been mistaken for his grandmother: white hair and friendly wrinkles. She was wearing a bathrobe. She showed him to the day's work: a plumbing mishap under the kitchen sink, and he went to work. He looked and looked but found no evidence of a leak. He was saying this when he turned around to see the lady naked in the doorway with her bathrobe at her feet.
When Mister Homeowner came home, he found the two making love on the kitchen tiling. "I don't love him" she was screaming at her husband as Duke ran out the back way. He ran, shirtless, to his bike and fled like the devil was on his heels. He rode and rode, making good progress.
Soon he realized he was cold. He saw a church up ahead with a Nativity scene set up in the front yard. Duke stopped there and got the blanket off of the plastic Baby Jesus, and this made him feel warmer, if not better all around. He continued on along now, but at a slower pace, and damned if Mister Homeowner didn't catch up in GMC truck, shooting out his window at Duke.
Duke fled into the woods. He knew the woods of the entire area. It was like a second home for a being that was at least half-squirrel. He went to his deer stand that stood a mile and a half through the woods from his house. It had chairs. He sat and waited.
The deputy stops at Angie's house, asking the befuddled Angie with the Baby Hair if she has seen Duke. He tells her they need to find Duke, because he is in danger, that a man is out to kill Duke! Angie stays quiet, pale as death itself, until the deputy leaves, then she heads out to back and into the woods.
Soon enough she is at the deer stand, standing crying in front of cousin Duke.
"Don't leave" he says. "I don't want to be alone when I die." So she stays, and they wait for the cold justice of Mister Homeowner, but she sits a bit off from Duke, so as not to be hit in the crossfire.
cowboys of the brown bush
(backstory: much of the town has been cleared out by an angry gunfighter. the men of the town had went into a necrophiliac fever over the gunfighter's dead girlfriend, to which the gunfighter responded by killing most everyone in town, save for two other gunfighters, who now find themselves at odds.)
Cue the Ennio Morricone. Its quickdraw time. Webb and McEndrith having a showdown.
Webb draws first, shoots the eye glass off of McEndrith's face. Mac falls and searching blindly, finds his glasses, but they are busted, the frame destroyed. Smiling, Webb runs behind the corner of a building and kneels. Thinking to himself, he begins to laugh.
Now nearly completely blind, Mac fires wildly until his pistol is empty. Fumbling, he grabs a rifle off his horse.
Webb looks around corner and shoots Mac in the kneecap. Mac falls. Webb goes back around corner, laughing heartily now.
Mac crawls with the rifle in hand, crawls closer and closer to Webb's position, while Webb happily muses and laughs.
Webb looks and Mac is right there! Webb grabs the end of the rifle and Mac fires, with the barrel right beside Webb's head.
Instantly, Webb is deafened. (Foley: dissonance)
You really are something. Get in the game! It's all for you!
The Honda Accord, two-door, 5 spd manual transmission. Sped towards downtown. The actions of a lonely man, wanting a lifeline, but not knowing how to ask for the help he needed. So he went to Sonic and got some tots and went home, back to the radio and the doubts in his mind.
Don't be Peter. Get in the game. There's a big world out there, and now with social media its closer to us than ever! Get in there and tell the world when you see a problem; don't sit idly by while it eats you alive.
If you don't have any suggestions for the world, just tell us something of these past days, let us relate to your experience. We are out there waiting, and we want to hear from you.
-You are valuable.
-You are like a diamond: rare, unique, flaws and all, worthy to be looked at and appreciated.
-When you're not around, we miss you. There's only one of you, and be rest assured, we have room for you, always.
It does not much matter what we do. As long as its together.
Y Me(a selection from a screenplay of mine)
a herd of teenage girls, each wearing a bullseye shirt.
aerobics instructor: "I'm feeling it." making a twisting motion in his midsection.
HAMAS FIGHTERS going nuts with their AK's, firing off in the sky.
BULLET TIME: we follow one bullet way far up over the earth, it comes down in a wide arc, (foley whistling noise).
ESTABLISH the rounded pinwheel of TRANQUILITY BASE
RED EYE OF HAL, and in his ROBOTIC MONOTONE VOICE:
"They don't even know what a pound is. Nah. They call the quarter pounder a (emphasis)'royale with cheese'."
"Royale with cheese!" muses astronaut at console.
outside, bullet falling, whistling noise
watson sitting in classroom, listening to teacher.
bullets falls into his head.
immediately his noise starts bleeding.
disaffected, he wipes his hand up and looks at it,
saying, "Darnit. I'm going home early."
control room: "nose bleed. be ready for anything now."
from the back "dumbshit probably got sky-high bp."
from the front "watch that attitude."
Purse and shoe porn for lipstick lesbians: this and other beneficial life advice
what are we doing here?
What does it all mean?
Is there a higher purpose?
Other than quelling my guts and my nuts?
I plan to leave this burgh on the good side of the ledger. With a decent name, leaving my goods behind, and departing this mortal coil of clear conscience.
But not yet. Not yet.
Walking the dog one night, I might get flattened by a steaming meteor or something, but to die unexpectedly doesn't mean I wasn't ready. A con in a movie said "you never get tied up in anything you can walk away from in twenty seconds flat." I'm not that succinct about it. That's no way to live. Come over. Unpack your things and sit on the porch with me. It'll take you thirty-five minutes to make even the minimum socially-acceptable exit.
The energy of your spirit will break down into its constituent elements and eventually return into the surrounding macrocosm, just as it was before you were conceived. Life begets life. Life is immutable.
My soul will be as a song in the winds.
Only atrophy is certain, however. And maybe one day in the debris field there will grow little patches of fur that will be the only remainder of life left.