WHIP: The Motion Picture
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.]
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!