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Whip: The Motion Picture. My Screenplay

2/14/2011

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There's a longstanding trend in Hollywood of taking old movies and television shows and remaking them into movies.  I'm working on a draft of one I'd like to see.  So far I only have the first and last scene.  Here it is:
WHIP:  The Motion Picture



SCENE 1

Whip is in in bed next to [Floozie:  come up with a name later] a beautiful starlet.  His bedroom is stylish and modern. He takes a call.

VOICE:  Whip, they're on the move.

WHIP:  I'm on my way.  There's a guest at my place. Send over a team to male sure she gets home safely.

VOICE:  Will do.

FLOOZIE:  A team?

WHIP:  Don't worry.  They' re very good.

FLOOZIE:  As good as you?

WHIP:  Of course not, but very good.

Whip gets out of bed and walks to his closet. A steady stream of ninjas comes out of the closet and attacks him. A martial arts battle ensues, continuing until a dozen ninjas are lying on the floor. Floozie is screaming. Whip takes a tuxedo from his closet.  He then turns to a chest of drawers to get underwear and socks. A midget jumps out of the drawer.

WHIP:  Benton!  We met again.

BENTON:  This time I have the element of surprise, and you are mine.

WHIP:  Surprise?  Jumping out of my underwear drawer?  In this neighborhood?

BENTON:  I'm not alone.

Midgets jump out of everywhere, the dirty clothes hamper, the nightstand, his briefcase (even though this is obviously impossible), one out from under the bed, cut to Floozie screaming, then one from under Whip' s pillow, then another out of the bed.

FLOOZIE:  Were all these guys here? Where were they? What the hell?

WHIP:  This may not be the best time to tell you, but I'm not actually an Amway distributor.

ONE OF THE NINJAS:  You're not.  Uh oh.

BENTON:  Nevertheless, I cannot allow you to leave.

WHIP:  And I cannot allow you to stop me.

BENTON:   Then we are at an impasse.

A magnificent battle ensues.  Martial arts give way to increasingly lethal weapons pulled from increasingly improbable hiding places (especially as Whip is as nearly naked as whatever rating this movie ultimately gets will allow him to be).  Even assuming we go for PG-13, we’ll use camera angles and convenient coincidences to preserve the ratings.  The battle ends when Whip blows Benton (and the wall of his bedroom) away with a bazooka he pulls from the pocket of his trenchcoat.

The “team” comes around the corner.  There are as many as the budget will allow, hundreds if possible.  

GENERAL FRANKLIN:  We’ll take it from here, Whip!

WHIP:  I’ll handle the mission, just get her to safety.

GENERAL FRANKLIN:  Yes sir.

Whip pulls Floozie out of bed.  They share a long, passionate kiss.  He hands her over to General Franklin.  She reaches for her robe, but it’s barely out of reach.

WHIP:  You’d better be on your way.

FLOOZIE:  Let me get my robe.

WHIP:  There isn’t time.  You’d better go.

Franklin and the Twelfth Division take the [nearly--again depending on the rating] naked Floozie across Whip’s mammoth front yard into a waiting  tank, with the Twelfth Division standing at attention on either side.  The Twelfth Division leaves, leaving huge ruts and ditches in the yard.  

A couple of boys with lawnmowers and yard equipment and a wagon with a sign “Yard Work $5.00/hr” are standing by with their mouths wide open.  

WHIP:  [to the boys]  Clean it up by sundown and it’s double pay.

BOY 1:  Yes sir.

BOY 2:  Pretty lady.

BOY 1:  Yeah.

WHIP:  When you get old enough, you can see her in the movies.

BOY 1:  We’re already in a movie.

WHIP:  Oh yeah.   . . . .. Get to work.

BOYS:  Yes Sir!

Whip runs to his driveway, past some of the fanciest James Bond style cars in movie history, past a Batmobile, past a spaceship, past a battleship, to a 1971 Ford Pinto and gets behind the wheel and speeds off.


SCENE 2 through 98.

[car chases, gunfights, love scenes, naval battles, etc.]


SCENE 99

WHIP parks the Pinto in the parking lot of the grocery store and runs to the back door.  A loose shopping cart rolls slowly toward it and hits it in the back.  It explodes and bursts into flames.  

Whip runs into the back of the grocery store, removes  his toupee, revealing for the first time  his bald head.  He opens a locker, throws the toupee in, puts  his pistol and other weapons in the locker, takes out an apron and puts it on, then walks through the doors into the grocery store.

Whip vigilantly looks around the grocery store.  It is a 1970’s style grocery store.  He walks up to two middle aged ladies.

WHIP:  Ladies, please don’t squeeze the Charmin!

LADIES:  [giggle].

Roll credits.

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The First Immortal Generation

2/12/2011

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"There is nothing new under the sun."  Eccl. 1:0.  "hiybbprqag."  An anonymous Google engineer.  

The term "first immortal generation" has been used before, but I have not been able to find it used in the context in which I'm using it here.  Perhaps it has been so used, and I'd welcome any reference.

I believe that we are members of the first immortal generation.  By that I don't mean that we will achieve immortality in the sense that Woody Allen hoped to achieve immortality, by "not dying."  I mean that we will achieve immortality in that our actions, our thoughts, our images, our peccadilloes, our most insignificant activities will be preserved--not for eternity perhaps but close enough to eternity for government work.  

If I want to find out about even my grandparents from public records, at best all I can find are a scanty few scraps of information:  birth, death, military records, census, phone directories, my grandfather's occasional drunk and disorderly arrests, perhaps if I'm lucky (or unlucky) an ancestor made the news once or twice.  But that's pretty much it.  

Should I have grandchildren, my tweets are preserved for posterity in the Library of Congress.  Chances are good that this very blog will be preserved somehow.  I have little doubt that my Facebook posts are archived somewhere.  They'll know just how much time I wasted playing YoVille.  

We are, indeed, the first immortal generation.  I want to expound on this more later, but my wife has just told me she's going to take a shower, and I want to "help her."  Think about that, grandchildren.

Gerry
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First Post!

2/12/2011

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    J.G. "Gerry" Schulze is an amateur linguist who practices law for a living.  For more information see his webpage, which has links to some of his other online activities.

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