Sunday, February 28, 2010

Tips on Passing Your Voight-Kamff Test

  1. Tortoise = Same thing as turtle
  2. You remind me of my best friend from childhood. His name escapes me. I’ve known him ever since our incept date.
  3. That reminds me of a funny story where I flipped the tortoise over.
  4. Never send a skinjob to a man’s job. Am I right? Even though the so-called skinjob is like a hundred times stronger, faster and more intelligent.
  5. Dogs, oysters -I guess you could say I love all kinds of Earth food.
  6. The only thing worse than them freakin’ skinjobs is an android. Am I right?
  7. My top ten? That’s a hard one. Let’s see… um …attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion, c-beams by the Tannhauser Gate …uh birthday parties with other kids at the pizza place.
  8. Did I say unicorns? I meant to say I dream of Unicron.
  9. I miss my mom.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Blacula vs. Caligula vs. Aslicula, AD 1973, Act II

BLACKULA stands over LT. JACK PETERS. We are deafened by the hungry menacing sound of BIKULA's engine and rattling exhaust. We are choked by the hot curling monoxide exhaust. LT. JACK PETERS looks up in a classical pose of supplication to his dark master.

Forgive me, O Immaculate Black Lord. If not by your fell hand and righteous bite, then ...what, what fiend would dare?

Act II

1 EXT. Nature Preserve -DAY
Children and Teachers on a Field trip

It is a beautiful day in an exclusive private nature preserve. The tiny schoolchildren and their teachers are very lucky to be allowed this special privilege in this untrampled eden.
The field trip has been underway for some time. It's break time, after lunch. The children are at innocent pleasures, such as chasing butterflies, frogs and rabbits. The teachers chat with one another and point out various natural wonders to the children.

Kenny, come and look at the bunny Sam found. Kenny, what are you waving at?

There's a man on a horse.

There is indeed a man on a horse, in the distance, riding closer. KENNY continues to wave. THE RIDER comes closer and closer. When TEACHER#1 looks up again, THE RIDER is almost upon KENNY. She makes to warn KENNY, but to her horror, the RIDER speeds into a charge and tramples him. TEACHER #1 screams in horror and rushes to KENNY, then stands and waves to THE RIDER for help. THE RIDER sees her and turns. TEACHER #1 screamingly explains to THE RIDER and the other teachers that a student has been trampled and screams for help.

TEACHERS and CHILDREN in the distance, faintly hearing TEACHER #1's cries.

TEACHER #1 waving, thinking that THE RIDER is coming back to respond to what has happened. THE RIDER drops into another charge. We see clearly for the first time that THE RIDER is in Roman hunting regalia and wears a grotesque mask.

TEACHER #1's bafflement. She realizes only too late what is happening, as THE RIDER lowers his lance.

CHILDREN and TEACHERS screaming and running everywhere, RIDERS appearing everywhere, running them down as on a hunt. The TEACHERS valiantly try and shield and circle around the CHILDREN, but THE RIDERS are merciless and pitiless, and no answer to the TEACHER's sane and human pleas issue from the grotesque masked visages they present.

Everywhere, CHILDREN and TEACHERS are run down like common prey, open in the fields, overtaken by swift horses.

People in the audience laugh uncomfortably.

During this terrible massacre, one TEACHER does a significantly better job of keeping some of her kids alive, by leading them running and hiding. This is MRS. VAN ARSDALE. Unfortunately, not even she can really defend tiny third graders from mounted hunters, and her group is diminished.

Finally, the only survivors are MRS. VAN ARSDALE and THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE. MRS. VAN ARSDALE is still trying to keep THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE alive, encouraging and directing her like a good teacher. Their clothes are muddy, torn and streaked with blood.

This is MRS. VAN ARSDALE's last gambit: the river. She puts a giant red igloo cooler in the river and puts THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE in it.

You're going to be alright, honey. Whatever happens just stay in the cooler. When you find somebody, anybody, tell them to call the police and tell them what happened.

THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE gets in the cooler. MRS. VAN ARSDALE hears RIDERS in the distance and puts the cooler in the river and runs to draw THE RIDERS off. Unfortunately, she does not get very far.


THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE in the cooler. We hear the sound of the rushing water and bob and spin with the current with her inside the tiny cooler. We hear her panicked breathing.


The cooler floats and bobs on the river.

The bank of the river as the red cooler slides near. A jeweled hand appears and plucks it out of the water by the handle.

2 INT. Cooler -NIGHT

THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE continues to crouch inside the cooler, helpless and terrified. We begin to hear sounds around her. It sounds like a party or banquet. Voices seem to greet the arrival of the cooler as a trophy with some appreciation and anticipation. We hear the cooler set on a table.
Her breathing panicked and rapid, THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE is tempted to look outside to see where she is. The sounds about her grow louder and louder until finally, she cannot resist.
Only instead of a small peek, THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE drops the lids and it slides off revealing her.

a LONG SHOT OF THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE ineffectively hiding her uncovered cooler on a banquet table. All sound has stopped. The table is empty as though hundreds of guests just vanished.

CALIGULA (off camera)
Come out, child. Don't be afraid.

No third-grader is that dumb. THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE stays put.

CALIGULA (off camera)
No one here will harm you. You are quite safe.

CALIGULA comes off his dais.

It's okay. The bad people are quite gone. I have a phone. You can call the police and your parents. Come out and see.

THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE pokes her head out. CALIGULA smiles. THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE gets ready to bolt.

N'aie pas peur! I understand. You are afraid. Many terrible things have happened. You feel helpless and vulnerable. It is natural.

CALIGULA brandishes a small sliver knife.

Take this knife. You can defend yourself. It is a special knife. It is very, very sharp.

CALIGULA proffers the knife delicately, handle first.
THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE gets out of the cooler and approaches CALIGULA to get the knife.


From behind THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE we see a slender golden noose slides out of the hand of one of CALIGULA'S SEX SLAVES, framing THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE.

Just as CALIGULA'S SEX SLAVE is about to slip the noose around THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE's neck, CALIGULA'S SEX SLAVE is lifted into the air and throttled.
(to GIRL) Run, child. No one will stop you.
Guards! Guards!
LONG SHOTS of CALIGULA's empty palace, as THE LITTLE GIRL FROM JUSTINE runs through it. BLACULA has spoken truly, as CALIGULA's cries echo hollowly and unanswered.
Dark Prince Marmuwalde, to what do I owe the pleasure?

CALIGULA grabs a giant dildo; razor blades shoot out; he lunges at BLACULA, who easily sidesteps and disarms CALIGULA.

CALIGULA desperately tries to defend himself from BLACULA, grabbing decorative items of the walls and wielding them ineffectively. It is an uneven match. BLACULA has no difficulty deflecting pillows and napkin sets, or the Luger CALIGULA finds on the table. BLACULA easily knocks CALIGULA about, slowly closing on him, as the latter scrambles for weapons about the deserted banquet room.
CALIGULA seems cornered, having exhausted the arsenal of crab claw crackers and ice sculptures against BLACULA. CALIGULA desperately tries to start a gas powered erotic drill. BLACULA closes. CALIGULA drops it and hides behind a small bed.

How many times ought you to have died, Caesar? And each time, not soon enough.

Oh, I die, I die. I die each day, Marmuwaldus. But am each day reborn. Because I am the sun.
CALIGULA grabs the side of the bed opposite him and pulls upward: it is a tanning bed! The harmful UV rays strike BLACULA, blinding him as he begins to smolder. Screams, BLACULA, screams, trying to shield himself.
CALIGULA flips the tanning bed over BLACULA, pinning him beneath, leaving only his noble head exposed. BLACULA burns.
CALIGULA lies on top of the overturned tanning bed, his face peering directly into BLACULA's with depraved erotic intimacy. He takes out the tiny silver knife he had from before.
I could destroy you now, forever. It would be so easy...
But you can't die now. You have to come to my party!
CALIGULA kicks the plug to the tanning bed out with his feet and stands up.


CALIGULA stands with a barely conscious BLACULA before the wide double doors to his banquet room. They swing open to reveal the palace's ballroom, an enormous party in full swing.
CALIGULA pushes/ushers a still reduced BLACULA into the party. The party is full of other immortals from all ages, including Nazis, spacemen and gorillas. It looks like a Daft Punk video.
CALIGULA is greeted and flanked by attendants dressed as MURMILLONES and RETIARII
Refugees from the court of Versailles bow and curtsey as the Emperor passes. Fish-men and deep sea divers pay obeisance. A lost fighter squadron and Carnival Maskers salute CALIGULA, as do a group of plush suited characters, including a giant hot dog with sunglasses and a machine gun.

Please, my prince. Have some refreshment. Try the hummus.
The MURMILLONES hit BLACULA with a plate of hummus. BLACULA screams as the garlicky chickpeas burn him.

A curly haired Englishman in velvet makes a pretty and practiced bow.
My dear Oscar! What gifts does the muse bring today?
That a poet's work should be immortalized at maturity, but his body and loves are best preserved as juvenilia.
Your words are refreshment.
Yes, and like all refreshments, if taken all in one sitting bring much sudden wisdom.

A pack of wolfmen pine before the Emperor. A Green Lantern bows.

CALIGULA pulls an envelope out of BLACULA's coat.

(to RETIARII ) My guest's glass is empty.

The RETIARII spear BLACULA with their tridents, pushing him into a decorative stream of wine that courses through the party.

Caesar of caesars, emperor, Rex of this world and the next.
Of the world within and without, majesty of majesties, first and last, we bow to you and thank you for your receipt of our gift, our children and our children's children.
You have both served me long and well. You are as dear to me as my own flesh and blood.
Your majesty has no humbler or more loyal servant. We would gladly die for you.
Yes. And so you shall, you shall. I promise.
THE OLD MAN AND WOMAN stare, shocked at CALIGULA's edict. They are led off.
BLACULA manages to flip one RETIARIUS over the using the trident in his back. BLACULA takes out a MURMILLONE with the net from his head.
Before he can pull the trident out, however, CALIGULA grabs the handle and presses with an economy of motion.
CALIGULA smilingly guides BLACULA out of the party this way.
As they depart, ALL bow and a dixieland band suspended like marionettes from strings descends from the ceiling and begins to play.


CALIGULA hurls BLACULA into his study. It is an enormous marble museum sized room filled with enormous globes of different sizes, each representing a different era, or planet. Carried by the momentum of the throw, BLACULA falls on the surface of one, and spins off.
CALIGULA strides slowly and masterfully into the room. He approaches the enormous globe in the center of the room.
Always remember three things, Mamuwaldus:

The globe splits open to reveal a throne.
First, you are a prince, but I am an emperor.
CALIGULA enters and sits on the throne.
Second, you are immortal, but I am so much older than you.
CALIGULA takes an English oval out of the arm of his globe throne. He picks up a golden heart. It splits open to reveal a lighter. CALIGULA smokes.
Finally, you are a Blacula. But I am a god.

(barely able to speak)...They say

They say what, Mamuwaldus?

...they say, you are cruel


CALIGULA chuckles

Yes, and?

...and insane.


Yes. That is how I first realized I was a god.

CALIGULA leans back in his throne and exhales.
But that lot. The only people who come to my parties are those too weak or too afraid not to. It's always been like that.
CALIGULA takes out the envelope he took from BLACULA. He pulls out some reading glasses. It's the pictures of the crime scene BLACULA took from LT JACK PETERS.
CALIGULA regards the photos.

The kiss of the Baphomet...

CALIGULA takes his reading glasses off.
BLACULA raises himself.

I like these pictures, Mamuwaldus. I want more of them and to play with myself.
But, I, I ...even I ...dare.


But who dares, then? Who dares what a god does not? Who kills even as the gods refrain?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Confessions of a Sportsman

It has come to my attention since my last posting on sports that there is some misunderstanding as to my relationship to the sporting life. In this life, I have indeed been many things: a writer of melancholic stories about solitary loneliness, an author of lonely stories of melancholy solitude, and creator of solitary stories of lonely melancholy. But whatever necktie I may have been wearing that day, I have always been one thing, and one thing only, through and through: a sportsman.

You might ask, of all the sports, the ones with special shoes and hats that are hard, the ones played on ice or dirt, the ones with (domesticated) animals and without, which is my favorite? I have to answer: the National Pastime, for I love it so. I am a National Pastime fanatic. I have never missed a single episode. When I am not busy avidly watching the National Pastime, whether on television, the movies or a telescope, I am always devotedly reading the many novel adaptations of the game so I can relieve each and every moment, like I was right there, snacking on the foodstuffs that we associate with the game.

I will, in particular, never forget the game where the team that everyone thought was going to lose got really behind as the game progressed, until all of us in the balcony believed that the team was certain to lose the game rather than win it. Then, during the last segment of the contest, the team everyone thought was going to lose suddenly rapidly improved their performance until the point where it was decided they won the game. My stool nearly fell over I stood up in the stands, so loudly was I cheering the name of that team and the player(s) most responsible for their victory.

I love all sorts of games. Games played with the hands or the feet. Games where people pick things and run or see how far they can kick things. I particularly love the game with the things. The longish things with the things at the end that hit the other thing. I will never forget my first longish thing with the thing at the end that hits the other thing (sometimes it’s not a separate part). It wasn’t much, but it was mine. I used to go out to the place where the game is played and hit the other thing for all it was worth, until the thing at the end needed replacing and sometimes I even lost the thing I was hitting, so hard did I hit it!

I will never forget the words my sports advisor said to me, once. He said: keep playing the game until you are successful at playing it, for, if you stop playing the game at some point in time before you are successful, then the result will be that you will not be as successful at the game as you might have been had to continued to play it, son. And that’s good advice I have never forgotten when undertaking to play any sport. Including the sport of continuing to live.