Drunk on Knowledge

Year: 1 Million A.D.

Place: The Future School

Teacher: Welcome to kindergarten, homo-sapiens. Time for your Liquid Lesson!

Bret: Radical!

Allison: I’m going to be smart now!

Teacher: That’s right, Allison. Boys and Girls, if this is your first time drinking a Liquid Lesson, don’t worry. They’re just drinks that program the neurons in your brain to learn whatever we want you to learn. Today we want you to learn Multiplication, so these Liquid Lessons are Multiplication Table flavored.

Girls: Gross!

Boys: Awesome!

(Teacher passes out the drinks to all of the students. Todd’s Liquid Lesson is a different color than all of the other students. His future bionic rainbow eye looks at the drink warily and with precision)

Todd: Hey, Teacher?

Teacher: What? What is it this time, Todd? And think before you speak, because my patience with you is running razor thin. You know what razors are, right Todd? Not only are they thin, but they’re extremely sharp and they can cut you.

Todd: …!

Teacher: Okay then. Everybody drink your Liquid Lesson

(Everyone in the classroom drinks their Liquid Lesson. The camera zooms in on the heads of the children and we see they are learning Multiplication Tables. Then the camera pans to Todd. Todd just drank his Liquid Lesson and guess what? He is looking really, really scared. The camera pans to his head and we see that his Liquid Lesson wasn’t Multiplication Table flavored at all. Todd drank a secret MURDER flavored Liquid Lesson. The following scene is what Todd learns)

Jim: Hey, what’s this paper I just found? Hmm. It says that if a person drinks a Liquid Lesson and lives to be 300, they will be automatically teleported to the Pan-Dimensional Neutral Zone. Then the people will be skinned alive and worn as clothing by the Alien Elite. Hey….WHA?!

Davis: I’m sorry you had to see that paper, Jim. Now I will have to murder you in secret.

Jim: No way, Davis. I wrote this paper. And I’m sorry you had to hear me read it out loud, because now I will have to murder YOU in secret.

Davis: Skedaddle!

(Jim chases Davis throughout the Liquid Lesson factory. Davis eventually hides in the factory and quietly begins creating a secret MURDER flavored Liquid Lesson. Then Jim finds Davis and he cuts his stomach out and feeds it to him. That’s the end of the lesson. The camera zooms away from Todd’s head and he’s screaming like non-stop.)

Todd: I’m just in kindergarten!

Teacher: No you’re not, Todd. Yesterday we gave you a Liquid Lesson teaching you that you were in kindergarten, but it was…inaccurate. We apologize. It was the only way. In reality, you’re a British Spy, a top agent of MI-a Million. Also, you’re 299 years old and your birthday is in three days.

Todd: That is the true lesson.

Teacher: Go for it, Todd. You’ve got a secret MURDER to solve.

Todd:(to himself) So….I’m not really in kindergarten…

Teacher: Go, Todd! Go!

Todd: Okay!

(Todd goes to the Liquid Lesson factory to look for Jim. He runs into a man wearing a false moustache, but that’s normal and very in vogue in the year 1 million A.D.)

Todd: Hello. I’m Todd, a top agent of MI-a Million. When did you last see Jim?

Mysterious Moustache Man: Never. I’ve never seen him.

Todd: But don’t you work here?

Mysterious Moustache Man: Yes I do. But still, I’ve never seen Jim. You see my friend, I am blind.

Todd: If you’re so blind, how come you’re not bumping into things and falling down?

Mysterious Moustache Man: How do you think? I took a Liquid Lesson on the factory’s layout. I have a perfect memory of where everything is.

Todd: That is so amazing.

Mysterious Moustache Man: Yeah. Also, did you know I’m in a band?

Todd: You are? Cool. No, I didn’t know that.

Mysterious Moustache Man: It’s true. Tell you what, Todd. Here. Listen to this demo tape. You seem like a really cool dude and I seriously think you’re going to like it. And, if you do like it, tell your friends at MI-a Million. Maybe my band could play for you guys at like an office retreat or something.

(The Mysterious Moustache Man gives Todd his demo tape)
Todd: That would be awesome. Thanks, man. I’ll check it out. This is cool. Thanks.

Mysterious Moustache Man: Not a problem. Catch you later, Todd. And when you’re listening, remember: a blind man sang those songs.

Todd: I will, dude. Thanks.

(Jim scurries across a corridor, waving a lit stick of future dynamite)

Todd: I see you, Jim! You’re going to pay for what you did to Davis!

(Jim throws the future dynamite at Todd. It blows up half of Todd’s head, killing him instantly. Then, amazingly, the camera zooms out from agent Larry’s Head. He is in kindergarten class, screaming, with an empty glass of Learning Liquid in front of him)

Larry: I’m only a kindergartner!

Later:

Larry: Learning Liquid can teach you a lot of things, Collette, but it can’t teach you how to love.

Collette: Yes it can. They have a love formula now.

Larry: I’ll give it to my enemies!

Later:

Mysterious Moustache Man: Hey, drink this. It’s about my demo tape.

(Collette drinks it.)

Collette: Wow. Now I LOVE your demo tape.

(Jim throws a proximity mine at Collete)

Whither the Wizard?

Scene: An old rickety mansion that is lit by oil lamps. It is the year 1944. A group of distinguished people have all just arrived

Mr. Galton: Thank you all for coming.

Tess Moonbloom: But why are we here? Why have we been summoned? Who are you?

Mr. Galton: You may call me Mr. Galton, and you are here because one of you…in this very room…is a magical Wizard.

Clyde Banter: Ha! That’s preposterous!

Orson Frock: I agree. My apologies, gentlemen, I didn’t realize this would be such a clear waste of time. I must be leaving.

Mr. Galton: Yes. Precisely the words a wizard would say.

Orson Frock: I see. You’re saying I’m the wizard?

Mr. Galton: No. But you very well might be. And your urgency to leave certainly raises suspicions.

Tess Moonbloom: Yes…yes it does….He is a wizard! Kill him!

Mr. Galton: Kill him? I believe a magical wizard would suggest that as well.

Tess Moonbloom: But I’m not a wizard!

Orson Frock: She’s the wizard! Kill her!

Mr. Galton: Mr. Frock, I have just stated that suggesting we kill a wizard is something a wizard would do. When combined with your other statement about leaving, you are up to two wizard points. Tess, you’re at one wizard point. Everyone else: zero.

Diana Ellington: I’m speechless! Speechless!

Mr. Galton: I should hope that’s not true, Mrs. Ellington. For if you are the wizard, being speechless would leave you unable to cast spells.

Diana Ellington: So now you’re accusing me? How many points am I at?

Mr. Galton: Is that a peacock feather in your hat?

Diana Ellington: …Yes.

Mr. Galton: You’re at 1 wizard point.

Diana Ellington: Absurd.

Mr. Galton: 2 wizard points! You see, I’m afraid I’m accusing everyone here of magical wizardry. While only one of you is a true magical wizard, despite my best efforts I’ve not been able to determine who.

(Mr. Galton hovers a foot off of the ground)

Tess Moonbloom: Mr. Galton! You’re…you’re floating!

Mr. Galton: What?! Who’s doing this?! Who’s making me float?! Whoever it is, this is worth 5 wizard points!!

(Mr. Galton continues to hover, flailing his arms and feet, but still unable to touch the ground)

Mr. Galton: Stop it right now or God help me, when I find out who did this it will be worth 10 wizard points!

(Mr. Galton falls to the ground, shaken but otherwise unharmed)

Mr. Galton: Was that you, Mr. Banter? Were you making me float? You’ve been awfully quiet lately.

Clyde Banter: It wasn’t me, Mr. Galton. I’m just been trying to keep quiet. I don’t want any wizard points.

Mr. Galton: Very wise, Mr. Banter. I like that. But was it wise like a wizard? Because that I don’t like!

Clyde Banter: It was wise like a man!

Mr. Galton: Very well. No points. Nevertheless, as my floating has clearly proven, magical wizards are real and there is one among us right now. By the end of the night, I promise you we will know who it is.

Later, in the parlor with the red leather chairs

Mr. Galton: No, Mr. Banton. You currently have only 3 wizard points. That is not what I find worrisome. What I find worrisome is the fact that you have 14, Mr. Banton, Fourteen Dracula points!

Clyde Banter: I just can’t win with you, can I, Mr. Galton?

Mr. Galton: 15 Dracula points! It’s three o’clock in the morning. The sun will be coming up in a few hours. And maybe that doesn’t scare our mysterious wizard, but I bet it scares you, doesn’t it Mr. Dracula?

Clyde Banter: Please. Don’t call me that.

Mr. Galton: Very well.

Later, in the ballroom with the checkerboard floor

Tess Moonbloom: Do tell us, Mr. Galton. How did you come to believe that the wizard was one of us?

Mr. Galton: A note was left on my doorstep. It said so right on it.

Diana Ellington: A note? Let me see it.

Mr. Galton: No. I lost it.

Diana Ellington: You lost it? I don’t believe you. You know what I think? I think there never was a note, Mr. Galton. I think we’re here at the whim of a madman.

Mr. Galton: Mind reading! That’s 4 wizard points! You’re up to 11 wizard points now, Mrs. Ellington! I suggest you watch it.

Orson Frock: I just want to go home!

Mr. Galton: No one’s going home! No! Everyone’s staying right here. With me. There’s a wizard in this house. We’re going to find him. And, if while we’re looking for him we all become friends, would that really be so bad?

Tess Moonbloom: What are you saying, Mr. Galton?

Mr. Galton: (sighs) I guess…I guess what I’m saying is… wizard hunting doesn’t have to be such lonely work. I just want to be friends with you.

(A fireball starts to form out of thin air. Then it goes away without doing anything)

Orson Frock: Mr. Galton, how can we be friends with you? We’ve known you for a total of 5 hours, and the entire time you’ve just been accusing us of magical wizardry.

Mr. Galton: My apologies, Orson. Can I call you Orson? Allow me to explain. You see, if someone gave you the chance to be a wizard, wouldn’t you take it? Understand - You wouldn’t have to be a bad wizard. You could be a good one. My meaning is that wizards can fly and make fireballs and enchant things and all of those things sound very enticing! Personally, I think being accused of magical wizardry is more of a compliment than anything else. I apologize for any misunderstanding Orson, but I’ve been trying to compliment you – and all of the other guests – for these last 5 hours.

Clyde Banter: Mr. Galton? Thank you.

Diana Ellington: Yes. Thank you.

Tess Moonbloom: Mr. Galton? It’s me. I’m the magical wizard.

Mr. Galton: 10 wizard points! Kill her! She’s the devil’s spawn!

Later, in the billiard room with floating daggers waiting outside every door:

Mr. Galton: We’re overmatched! The only one who can defeat her is Dracula!

Clyde Banter: I keep telling you, Mr. Galton! I am not Dracula!

Mr. Galton: Another Dracula point! That’s 17 points now, Clyde.

Clyde Banter: Mr. Galton, I can’t suddenly become a Dracula just because you choose to give me Dracula points.

Mr. Galton: Then we’re doomed.

Blown All Up!

Mysterious Man: Good Morning, Mr. F. While you were sleeping we took the liberty of surgically implanting thousands of micro-bombs into your stomach. Isn’t that something?

Mr. F: What?!

Mysterious Man: We have given you power. The strength of these micro-bombs range from that of a grenade to that of a nuclear bomb. If all of your bombs were simultaneously detonated, you could blow up something the size of the moon.

Mr. F: You mean I’m gonna blow up?

Mysterious Man: No, Mr. F., I should hope not. You see, we have taken each micro-bomb and set its individual timer to go off only when it is most needed. I cannot tell you how we know when you will need each bomb. I can only tell you that we have the ability to see the future. Also, I can guarantee that no matter what your situation, you will have precisely enough time to place a bomb and escape unharmed. Of course, you cannot waste a second.

Mr. F: So I’m like an explosive superhero.

Mysterious Man: Yes. Or an explosive super villain. The power is yours and thus, so is the choice.

Mr. F: Wow. I can…I can do anything! Still, I think I’m going to try to be good. I’m going to try and use these micro-bombs to do things like save people and ensure justice and–

(Mr. F blows up in an incredibly massive explosion. Opening credits. As the opening credits roll, we watch a moon-sized chunk of the Earth rocket through space, hurling away from the sun. The camera zooms in on Roddy Gotham, a survivor and resident of the rocketing Earth chunk.)

Roddy: Woah! Look, there’s a new moon in the sky! Wait! Oh Gaaaahd! Nooooooooo! It’s part of Earth! But…but that means…

Victoria: What, Roddy?

Roddy: It means we’re gonna die, Victoria! It means we’re speeding through space away from the rest of the Earth! It’s going to get cold, it’s going to get dark, and then we’re going to die.

Victoria: But I don’t want to die!

Roddy: I know, Victoria. I don’t either. Not anymore. Not since I’ve found you.

Victoria: Thanks. Well, couldn’t we just build big rocket thrusters and attach them to our current chunk? Then we could jet around space and meet up with the rest of Earth!

Roddy: Yes. Yes we could! Victoria, you’re a genius! Let’s do what you just said!

Victoria: Okay!

Later:

Roddy: We’ve completed our rocket thruster! Now just call Florida and see if they’ve finished theirs!

Victoria: I did, Roddy. And they’re done. But there’s just one problem-

Roddy: NOOOOOOOO!

Victoria: Take a pill, Roddy. Geez.

(Roddy takes a pill. It is an ecstasy pill and it is illegal)

Victoria: Roddy, did you just take an illegal pill?

Roddy: Victoria, the pill I just took is illegal on Earth. Earth, Victoria. But we’re not on Earth anymore. We’re on an Earth chunk which I consider a whole new planet, a planet where the laws have changed. I’m going to call this planet Bonersaurus Rex.

Victoria: You are opening up a can of worms, Roddy!

Roddy: And I’m so high!

Victoria: Dammit Roddy! Dammit, you’ve got to snap out of it! We’ve built two enormous rocket thrusters but we didn’t think about how we’d bring them together! Each one is bigger than Mount Everest, Roddy! How are we going to move them!?

Roddy: Hmm…Well, why don’t we just build rocket thrusters on top of the other rocket thrusters and then move them that way?

Victoria: That’s so smart it just might work!

Roddy: Yeah. I’m so cold.

Victoria: Roddy? Roddy, is that you? I can’t see you, Roddy! It’s so dark!

Roddy: Yeah, Bonersaurus Rex is getting too far from the sun. We’re going to have to build the rocket thrusters for the gigantic rocket thrusters in very dim lighting!

Victoria. Dear God.

Roddy: I’m legally overdosing!

Later:

Victoria: Roddy is dead. Bonersaurus Rex may not have laws, but make no mistake: it has sorrow and it has consequence. Roddy’s overdose has doomed us all. Without him, there’s simply no way we can finish the rocket thrusters for the huge rocket thrusters.

Mayor: Who said that? I can’t see.

Victoria: I know! It’s dark and it’s cold! We’re too far from the sun, we’re all going to die.

Mayor: Hey, you think maybe we could just fire the enormous rocket thrusters where they are? I mean, it couldn’t get any worse, right?

Victoria: Sure, whatever.

Mayor: I can’t find the ignition button! I can’t see!

Victoria: Well use a f***ing flashlight!

Mayor: Nevermind. I found it! Here.

(The Mayor pushes the ignition button. The enormous rocket thrusters fire, igniting everything around them in a bed of fire)

All: Scream!

Victoria: And so I die, enveloped in the fiery warmth I once longed for. SCREAM.

Thirst For Justice: 5030

Place: Earth: Year: 5030: Everything is really cold. You would get frostbite. There aren’t cities anymore because everything got covered in snow and ice. To compensate, human beings have evolved eight layers of skin and blubber to keep them warm. Now everyone looks weird and fat.

Blabono: I don’t know what to do about this heart disease!

Flabina: You could do excercises, Blabono, but if you do, be careful. If you do too much you’ll lose weight and freeze to death.

Blabono: That’s the issue plaguing our time.

Flabina: Don’t be a jackass. The real issue is-

Blabono: Saber-toothed polar bears!

Flabina: Exactly.

Blabono: No! I mean behind you! Saber-toothed polar bears!

(A bunch of saber-toothed polar bears drive up on bear-mobiles. They are brandishing Kelvin Swords, a sword that is constantly at 1 degree Kevin. The swords are really cool, and were invented by saber-toothed polar bears in the late 4990’s. As cool as they are, they are even more of one thing: Deadly. Because the Kelvin swords can instantly freeze to death anything they stab)

Flabina: Run for it!

(Flabina and Blabono run for it. Flabina gets away, but Blabono trips over the frozen and mummified body of the last Eskimo. As a result, Blabono is captured by the saber-toothed polar bears.)

Blabono: Oh no!

Sir Freezalot: We’ve captured you.

Blabono: If only there was a tree I could climb!

Sir Freezalot: Your parents are dead. We will raise you as our own. We are saber-toothed polar bears.

(From here, the movie will cut to Blabono learning the ways of Sir Freezealot his saber-toothed polar bear buddies. Blabono would learn how to catch fish with his hands, learn how to ride bear-mobiles, and learn how to wield a Kelvin sword. Also, Blabono would forget how to climb trees. Seven years would pass and Blabono would enter his early 40’s.)

Blabono: I still have this raging heart disease! (Stabs his Kelvin sword into a Diet Coke 8000. He drinks deeply from its icy-cold refreshing flavor.)

Sir Freezalot: That looks really good.

Blabono: Oh, it is. I seriously can’t believe how good it is when stabbed with a Kelvin sword and paired with this future fish we eat that you caught with your paws.

(Sir Freezalot stabs his Kelvin sword into a Diet Coke 8000. For the first time, he experiences firsthand the rush of adrenaline and joy that come compliments of every Diet Coke 8000)

Sir Freezalot: Wow. Just…wow. I must have more of this.

Blabono: I know, right? But I’m sorry, that was the last one. I just found these two bottles at the abandoned discothèque we raided. (ed. Note: adventure not shown. Saved for tie-in prequel)

Sir Freezalot: (roars!)

Blabono: (tries to imitate a saber-toothed polar bear roar) I mean, I know that humans have more. I practically grew up on this stuff.

Sir Freezalot: Then we will take it from them.

Blabono: You mean-

Sir Freezalot: I mean war, Blabono. For 25 years we’ve lived in a restless peace with humanity. But never in that time did they tell us the pleasures of Diet Coke 8000. But they couldn’t keep that secret forever, and now we know.

Later:
Blabono: My heart disease!

Sir Freezalot: Tonight we attack. We’ll creep into their village and maul them while they sleep, using our paws so we can keep our Kelvin swords sanitary for the cool refreshing flavor in store for us.

Later:
General Fatmeyer: The alarms! They’ve sounded! Man your battle stations, men! God. I knew this day would come. Quickly, Sgt. Nutterbutter! Put the Diet Coke 8000 in the containment center!

Flabina: Sir? Nutterbutter froze to death from exercising too much.

General Fatmeyer: Then it’s up to you, Lt. Flabina. Our ability to thirst quench is in your hands.

Flabina: I won’t let you down sir.

Later:
Blabono: Hey you! Get down from that tree and give us your Diet Coke 8000!

Flabina: Blabono! You’re alive! It’s me, Flabina! All these years I thought the saber-toothed polar bears had killed you! I felt so guilty!

Blabono: Flabina? I…remember. No, Flabina. They didn’t kill me. They saved me. They raised me as a saber-toothed polar bear and taught me their ways. That’s why I can’t climb that tree! Now climb down and hand over the Diet Coke 8000!

Flabina: No, Blabono. I know you. I know that somewhere deep inside you is the old Blabono, the human Blabono who knows how to climb trees. Blabono?

Blabono: Yes?

Flabina: Let the old Blabono out.

Blabono: (tries to imitate a saber-toothed polar bear roar)

Later:
(SirFreezalot and General Fatmeyer laugh, arms around each other, drinking a Kelvin sword-stabbed Diet Coke 8000 and enjoying its flavor immensely)

Wax The Floor 1

Howard: Hey Melinda!

Melinda: Yeah, Howard?

Howard: You know that dance contest the high school is having?

Melinda: The one where the winners get a free surgery?

Howard: Bingo. I need that surgery. So I’m going to dance. And what’s more, I’m going to win. But I can’t do it alone. That’s why I need you. You’re the best dancer in school. I need you to help me.

Melinda: Come on, Howard. Thanks to a rare genetic defect and your laughably low income status, your arms are literally made out of shaped candle-wax!

Howard: Damn it, Melinda! Don’t you see? That’s why I need to win so bad! I need the surgery prize! I need to have my candle-wax arms removed and replaced with a durable, heat-resistant, plastic alloy!

Melinda: Forget it, Howard! You’ve got wax arms and you’ll always have wax arms! You’re a loser, Howard! Find yourself some other partner! But listen to me: whoever you find, she had better be good. Because I’m the best dancer around, and there’s no way you’re gonna take that surgery away from me!

Howard: You f***ing c***, Melinda.

Later:

Grace: Howard? I’ll be your dance partner Howard.

Howard: You?! Don’t make me laugh, Grace. Your legs are made out of shaped candle-wax!

(Howard drinks his whiskey)

Later:

Howard: How’d you learn to dance so well, Grace?

Grace: Well…Howard? …Did I ever tell you about how I lost my legs?

Howard: No.

Grace: They were accidentally torn off. In the dance Olympics.

(Flashback to Grace at the dance Olympics. She’s in a bloody, legless mess screaming and shouting “Why?!” over and over. Cut to the audience at the dance Olympics. A little boy gets hit in the face with Grace’s torn-off legs. He falls to the ground. He doesn’t get up.)

Howard: Is that…is that why you have candle-wax legs?

Grace: It is. And yes, maybe now my legs are made out of candle-wax, but the rest of me can still dance at an Olympic level. You see, even with wax legs I haven’t forgotten how to dance.

Howard: No. No you haven’t. Thanks, for helping me, Grace.

Grace: No problem, Howard. I just wish my brother wasn’t in the mafia.

Later:

(Melinda and Raul go to the beach and their legs and arms don’t melt)