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9/21/05 12:38 am - Geese

I came up with an idea this weekend.

It's like this - think of the whole Goonies/Lost Boys/Stand By Me thing - the overactive 80s imagination pre-pubescent buddy adventure flick thing. Picture that whole feel and imagine the first act having that tone. Four boys, right? They're buds. They've been bros since time began. They grew up in this town, their parents are the biggest fucking WASPs on the goddamn planet, and they have imaginations eclipsed in size only by the fat one's older sister's hair. Somehow, some way, they discover that the creepy old man at the end of the street is a vampire. His house is rickety and black, he only comes out at night, and he always has the SCARY OLD GUY HOLY SHIT RUN AND SCREAM GUYS I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS look to him. Naturally, the four boys have to save the town because nobody else will. They devise a clever plan, venture into the old man's house, and drive a stake through his heart.

The town, however, doesn't get saved. The boys stand there, dead body in front of them, blood on their hands, and the reality sets in. They have committed first-degree murder, and there is no way they're getting out of this one. Reality sets in for not just the four boys, but the audience as well. The magic is gone, and now the boys and the town have to deal with the consequences. What will they do? What will their boring, sterile parents think? What will my slut sister think? GUYS I THINK WE REALLY DID IT NOW. How will the courts treat them and their delusions? It's this point where it all gets foggy for me. I know what I want to say in the rest of the story, I just don't know how to say it. It's going to deal with loss of innocence, mortality, the naivete of the Reagan era, and all that crap. It's like the anti-Goonies. I want to give the magic of the 80s a reality check.


9/13/04 01:52 am - A DIALOGUE

This is old, but I felt like posting it again.

1: Are you a chair?
2: I am not a chair, sir!
1: Then, darling, how can you explain your wooden legs? Your seat?
2: How dare you suggest such horror! Also, why did you call me darling?
1: Sweetie, do you not see how fair of a maiden you are? Do you never look in the mirror? You are the finest chair my eyes have ever seen. Your beauty as a chair is eclipsed only by your love of theater.
2: Surely you jest! I am not a chair, and my love for theater is a clever ruse!
1: You only lie to yourself, love. I see you get teary-eyed watching shows up in the balcony. Theater is your true love, and you cannot get enough of it.
2: Oh, it’s true! At first I only took to theater because of a need to occupy myself, but it took my heart and embraced it!
1: You fucking slut! I thought I was your true passion!
2: I just met you! How could you displace theater so quickly?
1: Because, honeybunny, I have known you for years.
2: I am aghast! Do you not know what I am?
1: Of course I do, thumper! You are a chair, and people have been sitting on you your entire life! Or are you a doormat?
2: You are impossible to talk to! I am not a chair and I am most certainly not a doormat!
1: All right, sport. What are you?
2: I (pause) am a LADY.
1: (blinks) NO SHIT?
2: Your sarcasm is as empty as your soul, you beast!
1: Are you aware, muffin, that your head is full of mush?
2: What?
1: Furthermore, did you know that I have a burning desire to break your neck?
2: Oh my!
1: That’s right. I want to wring your neck and beat you with a crowbar. I want to hear every blow. Your dead body will be my stage, and I will make theater with every blow of my prying stick.
2: My heart wells with fear! I am in shock at this threat to my life!
1: Have you ever wondered, doll, how you would look without a face?
2: (silence)
1: Why, you’d look like a chair! Or was it a doormat?
2: What do you imply with your awful words?
1: I say nothing that you have not already told yourself, snookums.
2: Who are you?
1: I am your death, and you are a lie.
2: What does this all mean?
1: It means – (1 falls over dead.)
2: I am lost forever! My life is a lie!
(2 goes to the theater. She accepts her role as a chair and is crushed by a rather large noble. Or was she a doormat?)
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