Ideas:
Killzone and little Caesar’s palace (with mike Tyson)
Any character must wear am “I survived
Rip on Ulysses
Dietary, especially fast food, burger king road head!
Anything involving the south
Ok, ok, southern epic about working at kohl’s (or any form of clothing outlet), involving the home life which inherently includes drinking, video gaming, and fantasizing about women (baby momma’s)
Plots:
- Manager not being able to grow anything and asks Fred for help, Fred grows pot, and boys find out, and Fred uses them to find markets, and they get entangled in the pot business.
- Walk for the AIDS
Characters:
Fred: middle aged, 42, overeducated, alcoholic, slacker, lives near the department store, games all the time, internet porn (webcam’s, chat room’s), into fat chics and disapproves of skinny white, blond girls, still turns out to be old men who live in India, installs tv cam’s in the dressing rooms to watch on his hand held tv, buys the main characters liquor frequently, fred is the failed hero, never accepted the call, Marxist thought, Licensed gynecologist
Kids are both hard workers, trying to pay their way through college, trying to get out, one loving Nietzsche and the other Kant, creating interesting debates, which fred participates in
Scenes:
- Burger king road head
- Fred’s apartment
- I survived
- underwear sniffer
- senior citizen days
- husbands looking for more underwear for women
- manager, klan member invites them to a BBQ, company picnic
- professor’s office
Scene 1:
Narrator: Some stories should be told. Others not so much. Yeah …. this one is up to you to decide. (pan to city) This is the city where Scott and Bill live.
Old lady: Can you help me?
Fred: No. I don’t work here.
Old lady: What? You have a Shop-Mart vest.
Fred: Look lady. I got this at a rummage sale. I don’t work here. I never did.
(Old lady walks away disgusted)
(Rick walks up) Rick: Fred, what did you just tell that woman?
Fred: I told her that the laundry department was that way.
Rick: But we don’t have a laundry department.
Fred: I don’t give a damn, this is a union job and you know you can’t fire me. (Takes swig from flask again)
Rick: Fred we don’t have a union.
Fred: No shit?
(Fred shrugs and walks away)
Scott and Bill go to the local college (pan to college) Trinity Baptist Southern University. They teach intelligent design there.
Teacher: Now the atheist liberals out there want you to believe that we randomly formed from nucleotides and then became monkeys and now we are human beings. But that’s liberal poppycock. Now I’ll tell you how we really formed.
Scott: (mutters) Jesus Christ.
Teacher: The Lord came down 18,000 years ago, not the 10,000 those crazy fundamentalists will tell you. And he did not create humans the way we are today. He created Cro-Magnons, the same one’s found in
(glares from angry black men)
Bill: Where is he going with this?
Scott: Hell if I know.
Teacher: Through the intelligent design of God, Cro-Magnon man “evolved”, if you will, into modern human beings. (shows two slides, two pictures on each) Here we have Cro-Magnon man, figures 1 and 2. (cro-magnon man and a generic black guy) You can clearly see the resemblance in the broad nose and depressed skull. In figures 3 and 4, you can trace an extremely slight evolution of cro-magnon man (shows pictures of two black students in the class. The black students are in awe. All the white kids are straining to see the students that they recognize on the slides)
Bill: Is this actually happening?
Narrator: This is Scott’s family (pan to hick father with mullet, a haggard white trashy woman, and an obese black woman standing in front of their home, and a younger brother) Scott’s father, Charley, works down at the lumber yard. (pan to the lumber yard) Scott’s mother, Charlene is a hair stylist in her friend’s house down the street. (pan to the home)
Charlene: Did you hear about those little negro boys down at the school?
Tammy: Yes’m. I heard they’s makin’ trouble wit the teachas and graffitying them walls in the boys bathroom.
Narrator: This is Maybelle, Charley’s mistress. (pan to showing Charley and Maybelle standing together) Every Sunday afternoon, they take down the confederate flag, wash it, and perform a flag raising ceremony. (pan to flag raising ceremony, Maybelle is raising the flag as Charley salutes and has his shotgun in the other hand, 24 pack on the ground next to him)
Narrator: This is Bill’s family. (pan to father, mother, and Bill) (show trailer) They live in a trailer. (awkward pause) Bill doesn’t enjoy living at home.
(Trailer shaking while Bill attempts to do homework)
Bill: For Christ’s sake, keep it down!
Hank: Don’t use the lord’s name in vain!
Scarlet: YES! YES!
Bill: (mutters) God damnit …
Hank: (enters room wearing only confederate flag boxers and holding a belt) What did I just tell you boy?
Bill: Oh shit! (runs out of the trailer, father in tow)
(pan to inside shop-mart)
Scott: Rick, we’re going on break.
Rick: Wait, you can’t, there’s no one else working in the department but me.
Bill: I’m sure you can handle it by yourself, Rick.
(Scott and Bill enter surveillance camera room)
Fred: Hey boys, break time?
Bill: You can bet your snakeskin belt on it.
Fred: I only wear twine belts.
Scott: (looking at one of the monitors of a woman changing) No shit, Fred. When’d you set this one up?
Fred: Oh, just last Saturday. I did some research and I found that the hottest chicks, for whatever reason, always picked the furthest stall on the right. So I set up a camera in that corner of the room. I hooked it up to broadcast on a tv frequency of my choice. Right now it’s Local Channel 67.
Scott: So you are telling me I could go home and turn to channel 67 and watch this right now?
Fred: Well, as long as you are close enough, yeah, yeah I think you should be able to.
Scott: What kind of radius are we talking about?
Fred: 2, maybe 3 miles if the wind is right.
Bill: That’s nearly the whole town Fred, anyone could be watching this.
(pan to kids at home)
Kid 1: Oooo, what’s this?
Kid 2: Those would be BOOBS!
Kid 1: (giggling) Hahahaha, I love boobs.
(pan back to shop mart)
Bill: So why did you decide to install the camera?
Fred: Customers apparently don’t like to see a creepy middle aged guy staring at them from above the stalls. If I was a chic and that happened to me, I’d find that quite flattering.
Scott: Eh, understandable.
Bill: Oh, Christ, look at her!
Fred: I would totally tap that ass.
Scott: Too bad, she probably has the clap.
Fred: Then I’ll wear my latex gloves.”
Scott: What’re you going to do, fist her?”
Fred: Hell yeah, chicks like that love it rough!”
(Rick enters, flustered)
Rick: Guys, I can’t handle it. I need to go back to my office. A customer needs help over by the toy cars.
Fred: (grinning mischievously) I can take care of it Rick, my lunch break is nearly over anyway.
Rick: Thanks, these people are driving me mad. Oh, guys, don’t forget. The company picnic is over at the
(Fred and Rick exit, pan to toy department)
Fred: Hi ma’am, how may I help you.
Customer: Do these actually work?
Fred: What do you mean?
Customer: Can I drive them?
Fred: Ma’am, they are just toys.
Customer: Are you sure? Cuz it looks like you could get a little person in there, you know, (voice hushed) a midget.
Fred: No. No, little people can’t fit in there. The car isn’t real. The doors don’t open and the engine is plastic.
Customer: I don’t believe you.
Fred: Ok, yes. You can drive it. We have a shrink ray in Isle 73 that would get you right down to size. You can’t miss it. It’s the isle next to the Unicorns and Leprechauns.
Customer: Are you pulling my leg?
Fred: No ma’am, not at all.
Customer: (gleefully walking away) I always knew unicorns were real. Wait till I tell Pauline!
Narrator: This is Fred in one of the six bars within walking distance of his church. (camera pan from church, across parking lot to bar. Bar has many more cars than church). Fred likes to get his drink on. (pause) Tonight he is drinking jack and coke, but he substituted the coke for more jack.
Fred: Bartender, I want a jack and a coke on the rocks. Hold the rocks and the coke. (does bad dance move while waiting for drink, chick looks at him moves away quickly). Yeah, I want to fuck you that badly too. Bartender? Who was that, she just checked me out.
Bartender: That’s my wife.
Fred: Really? That sucks. She looks worse than my anemic blood hound.
Bartender: I’m going to fucking kill you.
Fred: Can have my drink first (bartender hands drink over, as Fred sips, fist enters screen, sends glass flying into biker gang. Biker gang member draws studded bat from pants and walks towards bar. Bartender shoots biker. Freeze frame as the biker gets hit in the shoulder.)
Narrator: Good thing that was Saturday night, and the next day meant Sunday’s glorious redemption at Holy Baptist Trinity Word of Jesus Evangelical Adventist Rejuvenation Church of America. (shows man with arm in a sling, the bartender with bandage on head, and a man with a bruises all over his face, pan to Scott and Bill’s families sitting together, with the two boys in the middle, show Fred sleeping with hands down pants in the back of the church)
Pastor: Fuck the liberals! They don’t know shit! Praise the lord!
Maybelle: PRAISE THE LORD (jumps up and raises hand as if to testify)
Pastor: Join hands brothers, sisters, and negroes alike. We address this prayer to god’s angels Strom Thermond, Jerry Falwell and Jack Daniel’s. (Fred wakes up confused as to where he is)
Bill: (Desperately) Oh, fuck me sideways.
Scott: Sideways?
Bill: Yeah, just like I did your mom last night
Scott: You and half the police force.
Bill: Fuck.
Pastor (continuing): We pray that George Bush will be given the strength to conquer the North, Liberals, A-rabs, Darwinians, the Bravo channel and Clay Aikin and his plot to turn us all into homosexual lovers.
Fred: (stands up, screams): FUCK CLAY AIKIN!!!
Maybelle: AMEN!!!
Pastor: Damn the homosexuals and their pro cancer agenda straight to hell. We pray that god will give us the strength to crusade against the a-rabs, communists, gypsies, science and menstruation.
Fred: YES, FUCK MENSTRUATION, RAG TIME IS THE WRONG TIME!! (everyone in church turns awkwardly and stares as Fred mimics a Pentecostal dance and pretends to speak in tongues which is really just a long list of NASCAR drivers)
Maybelle: LORD ALL MIGHTY, AMEN.
(pan to the appliance section of the store, by the refrigerators and microwaves, Fred is standing conspicuously by the largest refrigerator in the store)
(Bill approaches, microwave is on but unnoticed)
Bill: What are you doing in Appliances, we work in NASCAR?
Fred: Want a drink?
Bill: What?
Fred: A drink, (annoyed) you know? Liquid. Liquid with alcohol.
Bill: No, but it’s the beginning of the shift, why are you asking me now?
(fred opens fridge, removes beer, opens on LCD display, putting a large scratch on screen)
Bill: You fucking idiot, you have beer in the fridge, you’re drinking on the clock, and you just ruined a forty-five hundred dollar TV.
Fred: So? We’ve got more in the back.
Bill: Beer or TV’s
Fred: How the hell am I supposed to know about the TV’s? I work in the NASCAR section.
Bill: Oh, Jesus, we’re going to get fired
Fred: nah, Rick is a pussy, and I disabled the security camera in this section. (Fred walks away and throws empty beer bottle over head which crashes into another expensive tv on display, clearly ruining it. Fred pauses awkwardly, and begins to walk toward Bill)
Bill: Where am I? Satan’s arm pit?
Fred: Worse kid, Satan’s festering herpes sores. (opens same large fridge, removes one of many large wine-in-the-box’s, removes swirly straw from pocket, inserts into box, microwave rings) SCOTT, YOUR SHIT IS READY, COME GET IT.
Scott: Thank god, hot pockets look like pussy, this will be my entertainment today.
(Fred sips wine, Scott takes oversized bite of hot pocket, immediately spits onto same TV Fred opened bottle, Fred who is alarmed by the sudden motion, jumps and spits wine on Bill’s face)
Fred: Sorry
Bill: (anger building) It’s ok.
Fred: No, I meant about the hot pocket, but speaking of pussy, You guys want in on a little secret?
(pans to exterior rape crisis center)
Fred: Listen, I know you’ve been through a tough time, that’s why I think you need to get high with me.
Distraught woman: What?
Fred: Listen, right now, what do you want to do? Just forget it all happened, right?
Woman: Yes, I’d give anything.
Fred: (slyly) Anything?
Woman: Well..
Fred: (jokingly) ok, ok, bad joke, (regains serious composure) but seriously?
Woman: I just want it all to go away.
Fred: That can be arranged (removes large bag of pot, pipe and lighter from pockets) one hit of this and you’ll be effectively an Alzheimer patient.
(scene of both taking a hit, fade to black. During the darkness, begin loud sex noises until climax and then fade sound. Still no visual. Pause. Brighten into sun rise. Excessively happy music with birds chirping and a happy family walking to church. Show same view of rape crisis center. Show Fred and Distraught Woman cuddling on the floor with posters of how to resist male manipulation in the back ground)
Woman: (waking up): Oh Jesus, it happened again.
Fred: Yep, sorry about that.
Woman: (insanely outraged) You abused my trust. You fucker. (gets up naked, and starts slapping him) YOU FUCKER! YOU SICK FUCK! FUCK YOU! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A LOWDOWN BAG OF FUCK! (she punches him in his good eye, and freeze frame briefly, then fade to church.)
“You have five levels. D, C, B, A, and … Max.”
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