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)

Personification Station

(A man knocks on the door of a house. It is opened by a gentleman wearing a bathrobe)

Murder: Good evening. I am the personification of the emotion “Murder.” I’ve come to kill you.

Immortality: I’m sorry, “Murder” but I am the personification of the emotion “Immortality.” You can not kill me.

Murder: I see…Quite a coincidence that we are both personifications of things.

Immortality: It is.

Murder: Hey, let’s team up! We could join together.

Immortality: No thank you. Then I’d literally have to live with guilt forever.

Murder: Come on. It’s exciting.

Immortality: Fine then.

(Immortality and Murder meld together and approach a young woman)

Immortality/Murder: You’re dead meat!

(Immortality/Murder kill the young woman off-screen. A shoe flies towards the camera. There is blood on it.)

Immortailty/Murder: Quick! Get her wallet!

(sounds of Immortality/Murder getting the wallet.)

Immortality/Murder: Well we killed her. Lets see who it was.

(Immortality/Murder open the wallet and check the Driver’s License. The Driver’s License says that the young woman, an organ donor, was the personification of the emotion “Properly Caring for Pets.”)

Immortality/Murder: What have we done?! We’ve killed another personification!

(Immortality/Murder unmeld and become individual personifications again)

Immortality: Look what you made me do!

Murder: Yes!

(Murder begins softly singing the song Amazing Grace)

Immortality: Now, every time I see someone forget to feed their dog, I will know it is my fault and I will cry. I will cry until the end of time, for my grief cannot end. For my grief, like the rest of me, is Immortal.

Later:

Immortality: Do you see this grain of sand? This single grain of sand is very, very old. It is not as old as the Earth, but it might be close. I am older than this grain of sand. I’d guess this grain of sand is maybe 3 billion years old, so…think about how long I’ve been around.

(A dog has fleas and mange)

Immortality: Let me die!

Professor: Sir, as I was neglecting to feed my parrot, I couldn’t help but overhear your dilemma.

Immortality: (sobs in a monotone staccato)

Professor: Am I correct in assuming that you’re the personification of the emotion Immortality?

Immortality: Uh-huh…

Professor: And did I hear that you’d like to die, but you can’t because you’re immortal?

Immortality: That’s so weird that you heard me.

Professor: So guess what!

Immortality: What?

Professor: I think I know a way you can die.

Immortality: No way! With science?

Professor: No. Science is a lie. We’d kill you with logic! You see, all you’d need to do is kill the personification of the emotion “Personification.”

Immortality: I wouldn’t have to live with my guilt! But….but wouldn’t killing the personification of the emotion “Personification” kill all of the other emotion personifications?

Professor: Uh-huh.

Immortality: I….I don’t think I could do it. Maybe I should just live with my guilt.

Professor: It’s your funeral.

Immortality: No...no it isn't.

(A cat’s litter box hasn’t been changed in like a year)

Immortality: I’ll do it!

Professor: Yes!

Later:

Professor: It’s me, the personification of the emotion “Murder”! I became a professor, but I still like making people kill other people!

Personification: Don’t do it, Immorality.

Professor Murder: Maybe a ferret just starved to death!

Immortality: What do I do?!

Decision Making: I am the personification of the emoticon Decision Making. Maybe I can help.

Doesn't Anybody Car/e?

Marcus: You can call me Marcus. I am a car.

(Shot of a man driving a 2003 Brown Honda Civic)

Marcus: I cannot speak. I cannot communicate in any way. Despite my wishes, my thoughts are mine alone; they are trapped within the very confines of my existence. I am a car.

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic stops at a red light)

Marcus: The man, the driver, uses me to take him from place to place. I have no say. I go where he steers me.

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic takes a free right turn at the light)

Marcus: You get used to it. Like it or not, it’s what I was made for. Sometimes, I pass others and wonder, “Do they think as I do? Are they equally trapped, equally muted in their steel-frame bodies?”

(A car passes the 2003 Brown Honda Civic)

Marcus: But I’ll never know. I’m just a car. Life is passing me by as I pass it by.

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic pulls into a gas station)

Marcus: Loneliness is my unseen passenger.

(The driver gets out of the car and goes into the gas station)

Marcus: My driver likes coffee and peanut butter cups. He wears suits on Sundays and he often forgets his briefcase. He likes talk radio. That’s all I know about him.

(The driver comes back and starts up the 2003 Brown Honda Civic)

Marcus: I like him okay, I guess.

(The driver pulls out of the parking lot)

Marcus: I wish he knew more people. Another passenger would be nice. Any change of pace.

(It starts to rain)

Marcus: How long will I be here? How long is this going to go on?

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic drives a generic, uneventful street)

Marcus: Sometimes I hope the driver will get into an accident. I don’t want him to get hurt, I just wonder if I’ll be able to feel anything. Even pain would be something.

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic drives through a mud puddle and gets covered in grime)

Marcus: I’ve never cared about being clean. That was always the driver’s thing. But now, when I get dirty, he doesn’t seem to care. I guess I kinda miss the caring.

(The driver, crying, stops at the Golden Gate Bridge. He steps out and jumps off. The 2003 Brown Honda Civic remains in Neutral with the driver’s door open)

Marcus: He’s not coming back. I’m so alone. Maybe a car will hit me. Maybe it’ll hit me and push me over the bridge. I wanted to come too, driver. I wanted to come too.

(A teenage gang member gets into the 2003 Brown Honda Civic and drives off)

Marcus: I’m being stolen. I don’t know how to feel.

Later:

(The 2003 Brown Honda Civic is in the bottom of a gully, stripped of its wheels, grill, seats, steering wheel etc.)

Marcus: No one will find me. No one knows I’m gone. I just want this to stop. Why am I here if I can’t talk, can’t even scream?

(It gently starts to rain. From the top of the gully, two teenage boys take aim and start firing their bb rifles at the 2003 Brown Honda Civic.)

Two by Two Means Me and You

History Scholar: Think about it. Noah was on his ark for a long time. The ark had to have two of every creature. Some might say it’d be impossible to feed that many animals.

Chet: I wouldn’t say that.

History Scholar: Well you’d be fucking wrong. As this chart of animal metabolism shows, there is no possible way that an ark of the Bible’s specific dimensions could contain two of every animal and enough food to feed them all.

Chet: What are you saying, History Scholar?

History Scholar: I’m saying that God enchanted the ark. I’m saying the animals didn’t need to eat while on the ark.

Chet: But that means…

History Scholar: That’s right, Chet. Wherever the ark is, trapped inside of it are animals no one has never seen, animals who have lived inside the ark since the Great Flood but remain alive because they haven’t needed to eat anything. Finding the ark would be the single greatest discovery in the history of biology. Alas, the ark’s location is one of the world’s most unsolvable mysteries.

Chet: I know where the ark is!

History Scholar: I know you do, Chet. That’s why I’ve asked you here. As Noah’s sole surviving relative, that knowledge has been passed down to you for generations. Tell me, where is the Earth hiding the ark?

Chet: It’s in the Sahara Desert!

(Upon hearing this, a man that was hiding in the library’s shadows silently slips away. His silhouette shows that he has tentacles instead of arms and at the end’s of the tentacles are holding rapiers.)

History Scholar: Excellent! We’ll leave tomorrow.

Later:

History Scholar: Think about it, Chet. This single grain of sand has lived through more history than all of mankind put together.

Chet: What about this sand?

History Scholar: Yes. That one too. Every sand.

Chet: And we’re in the Sahara! There’s sand everywhere!

History Scholar: Indeed. And somewhere in this desert, buried beneath billions of grains of sand, is our ark. And in that ark? Creatures never before seen.

Chet: I can’t wait, Mr. Scholar. I’ve never had a pet before.

(The silhouette of the tentacle-armed man slips further back into the desert’s shadows.

Later:

Lars Adolph: Yes, thank you gentlemen for doing all of the work for me. Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you both to step away from the ark. (points guns at History Scholar)

History Scholar: I see. I might have known it was you, Lars. You’ve been the mole all along.

Lars Adolph: The mole? Hmmm. Perhaps, by your bastardization of the word. I prefer to call myself an infiltrator. The real mole, the true mole, stepped off of this ark almost 5000 years ago.

Chet: So what? You’re just going to kill us and take all of the credit for discovering the unknown creatures?

Lars Adolph: Damn the credit! I’m going to be rich beyond my wildest dreams! Don’t you get it?

History Scholar: Get what?

Lars Adolph: Oh my gosh! You really don’t get it!

Chet: Fine, but could you please tell us?

Lars Adolph: Okay. In this ark, nothing needs food! But what is more, in this ark, you can live forever! I can chop it up into a billion pieces and sell each sliver for a million dollars! I’m talking about immortality, gentlemen. I’m talking about the power of God. I can use this ark to gain the unlimited wealth which I can then use to fund my unlimited life span.

Chet: But what about the mysterious animals that are living inside?

Lars Adolph: I couldn’t care less. I’m allergic. Let. Them. DIE!

(Lars Adolph shoots his machine gun into the air)

History Scholar: Chet?

Chet: Yes, Mr. Scholar?

History Scholar: I’m scared.

Even Later:

Lars Adolph: Okay, but I must warn you. I was the rapier champion at Cambridge. Never lost a match

Tentacle-Armed Man: Consider myself warned.

(They duel, both of them using two rapiers.)

History Scholar: Quick, while Lars is distracted! Lets see what those ark animals look like!

Chet: I’m on it.

Latest:

History Scholar: Tentacle-Armed Man! You’re bleeding!

Tentacle-Armed Man: Yes, I’m afraid Lars had quite a talent with rapiers.

Chet: But you’re going to be okay, right?

Tentacle-Armed Man: Oh Chet… I don’t think so. Not this time.

Chet: But you can’t die! You’re my friend!

Tentacle-Armed Man: I’ve been alive for almost 5000 years. That’s a long time, Chet. It’s too long, frankly. It’s my time to go. I have tentacles.

Chet: No!

Shine A Light On Cave (Updated Revision)

Tirby: I don’t know... This cave is really dark. There could be bears or something in here. Maybe we should find something else to go into.

Helen: Oh come on, Tirby. Give me a break! We’re in a forest!

Tirby: Fine. We’ll go into the cave then.

(Helen and Tirby go into the cave and they keep walking even though they can’t see anything. Time passes, as it is wont to.)

Tirby: Hey Helen. Did you know I have a cousin who is blind?

Helen: That must be so hard. Because if you think about it, the earth is really beautiful.

Tirby: I know.

Helen: Hey Tirby?

Tirby: Yeah, Helen?

Helen: I’ve been dead for like an hour now.

Tirby: That is so funny, Helen.

Helen: You’re right. I was joking.

Tirby: Oh.

Helen: Except I’m not joking! I’m dead. I tripped and snapped my neck back there.

Tirby: What? So you’re a ghost?

Helen: Do I feel like a ghost?

(Sounds of Helen putting Tirby in a full-nelson.)

Tirby: Woah. So if you’re not a ghost, then what are you?

Helen: Who knows. It’s like pitch black in here.

Tirby: Hey, let’s dig up a bunch of corpses and bring them in the cave and see if the cave makes them come alive.

Helen: Okay. I’ll wait here because I can’t leave the cave and I know that because I wrote it in my diary yesterday because I’m a psychic.

Tirby: Okay. I’ll go get a bunch of corpses.

(Tirby goes to the surfer prisoner cemetery and digs up a bunch of surfer prisoner corpses. He puts them all in a huge wheelbarrow and brings it to the cave.)

Surfer Prisoner: We’re going to kill you, Tirby.

(In the dark and through the chaos, the sounds of Tirby putting on his rollerblades are heard)

Tirby: Not today, surfer prisoners.

(Sounds of Tirby rollerblading deeper and deeper into the cave, deftly jumping over obstacles and stalagmites that he can’t even see.)

Helen: Tirby? Why’d you bring surfer prisoner corpses?!

Tirby: I’m sorry! I thought one of the bodies might be…I thought I might find my dad.

Helen: Oh Tirby…I’m so sorry. You never told me.

Tirby: Well…I never met my dad. Mom said she never told him I existed. It was a one-night-stand kinda thing. She didn’t even know his name.

Helen: Then…how do you know he was a surfer prisoner, Tirby?

Tirby: How? Because he never came looking for me. He never checked, never called my mom back. That kind of person should be in the ocean jail.

Helen: You’ve damned us all, Tirby. Damned us all.

(Sounds of the surfer prisoners getting closer)

Tirby: Sorry. Hey Helen? Have you figured out what you are yet? I mean, you’re not a ghost, but you’re dead and still talking. Make some sense out of that.

Helen: Tirby, please. Will you get off my back? I don’t know. Shine a light on me and we can find out.

Tirby: But what if you’re a monster that lives in this cave and somehow, nobody knows how, you can read the mind of corpses and animate them and you do it all so that people will shine a light on them because maybe light gives you some kind of power.

Helen: NAILED IT!

Tirby: ????!

Helen: RAAARRGH!

(Tirby is heard screaming and then quickly relacing his pro-quality rollerblades.)

Tirby: I got these rollerblades as a Christmas present!

Helen: COOL.

Tirby: I’m sorry, Helen. I’m sorry you died.

Helen: RAAARRGH!

Tirby: But tell me one thing, cave monster. Helen…the real Helen…when she was alive…was she ever really a psychic?

Helen: YOU BET.

Tirby: Later!

(Tirby is heard rollerblading and making a gun out of a stalagmite.)

Later:

Helen: Maybe I’m just an animated corpse and maybe this will all end tomorrow, but I need you to know…I’ve fallen in love with you.

Surfer Prisoner: I love you too. I’m Tirby’s dad.

Helen: Let’s go find him and force him to shine light on us.

Surfer Prisoner: I can’t see a damn thing.

Later:

Tirby: I’ve got to go to the bathroom!

Later:

Tirby: Thank you. And what I have come to learn, everyone, is that when things are dark, when it looks like there’s no light at all and it couldn’t possibly get any darker, if during these times you really try and open up your soul, then during these times you can see more clearly than you ever have before.

(Tirby pops his collar)

Mayor: He murdered Helen! Stab him!

Tirby: Oh shit!

The Thing about Frim-Fram

Neil: Geez, my stomach really hurts.

Neil’s Mom: God. Drive yourself to the doctor if it hurts so much.

Neil: Fine, I will. Drive yourself to the bar if you need to drink so much.

Neil’s Mom: Fine, I will.

Neil and Neil’s mom both get in separate cars and drive away.

(While Neil is driving to the doctor, his stomach bursts open. Inside is a furry creature that peaks out from Neil’s stomach and smiles at him)

Neil: AAAAAAGH!!! What the fuck?

(Neil bleeds all over his car.)

Frim-Fram: Hey Neil! I’m Frim-Fram, your stomach pet! Don’t worry about the bleeding, I can patch this up in no time!

(Frim-Fram licks the area around Neil’s wound and the bleeding stops. Frim-Fram remains half-emerged from Neil’s stomach. He looks up at Neil and smiles, proud of himself.)

Frim-Fram: Sorry about that. I just wanted to meet you so badly!

Neil: I’m dreaming. I’ve got to be dreaming.

Frim-Fram: Well that’s not true. And is that any way to meet somebody new? Tell them they’re not real?

Neil: Sorry, I just…I don’t know what’s going on. People have stomach pets?

Frim-Fram: Some people do! The lucky ones do!

Neil: The lucky ones? I’ve got a talking furry creature poking out of my stomach. How is that lucky?! I’m a freak! What am I gonna do in P.E.? Everyone will see!

Frim-Fram: Oh, you’ll be fine.

Neil: God, and not just P.E! Even with a shirt on I’ve still got this football sized talking protrusion sticking out! I can’t hide that!

Frim-Fram: Come on! I’m Frim-Fram! You’re supposed to be happy! We’re supposed to be friends!

Neil: I’ve got friends!

Frim-Fram: No you don’t Neil…. You know, I’ve been in your stomach for a long time… The other kids they just….they just don’t understand you. But now, now you’ll have a friend with you wherever you go! And I’ll help you make new friends!

Neil: You mean…you’re going to make me popular?

Frim-Fram: You bet I will, Neil. I’m Frim-Fram! I’m a stomach pet!

Later

Neil: No, Frim-Fram, they don’t like me, they like YOU!

(Frim-Fram puts on his sunglasses)

Frim-Fram: Frim-Fram!

Later:

(Phone Rings)

Neil: Hello? This is Neil. Oh, hey Heather! How are you? Oh…you want to talk to Frim-Fram? Oh. Just a second. (to Frim-Fram) Here. It’s for you.

(Neil hands the phone to Frim-Fram)

Frim-Fram: Hey baby. You used the dial and made me smile. …. Shoot girl ….Yeah, I’m interested…. For you, anything….I’ll have Neil walk me over…. Yeah, I can bring the booze…

Neil: (whispering) I’m 16, Frim-Fram! I’m not getting alcohol! I’m not going to take you anywhere.

Frim-Fram: (still on the phone) Alright, Heather. See you in ten. And Heather? Wear something…comfortable.

(Frim-Fram hangs up the phone)

Neil: Damn it, Frim-Fram! I’m tired of this! For four months you promise me popularity, but all I am is just a tag-along! Nobody wants to talk to me! I’m just some third wheel whose stomach pet girls like to make out with!

Neil’s Mom: You’re a loser! My kid is a freak loser!

Neil: Have another drink, Mom! Maybe that’ll solve your problems!

Frim-Fram: Calm down, Neil. Like I said, this is all part of the process. These girls are gonna fall in love with me and I’m gonna break their hearts. And whose shoulder can they lean on then? Yours. Just sweep in and take care of them. And once everybody sees how many girls you’re getting, you’ll have more friends than you know what to do with!

Neil: I don’t like it. I’ve changed my mind. I want to do this on my own.

Frim-Fram: Don’t make me laugh. Didn’t you hear what your mom said? You’re a loser! You can’t do shit on your own. Now shut up and walk me over to Heather’s place. I have a feeling she wants to do more than make out tonight.

Neil: No.

Frim-Fram: What did you just say?

Neil: No. No, I’m not going over there. Heather’s a nice girl and I’m not going to be a part of this.

Frim-Fram: You better be real careful what you say, son. You best think real hard. Remember, I’ve got my feet resting here in your insides. Right now they’re sitting there all peaceful like. But they’ve got claws, Neil. They’ve got claws and they’re starting to feel restless.

Neil: You’d…you’d kill me?

Frim-Fram: Without a second thought. Without remorse and without blinking an eye.

Neil: But you’re…you’re my stomach pet!

Frim-Fram: Wake up, Neil. Who’s whose pet?

Later:

Shobo-Nobo: I’m Frim-Fram’s stomach pet!

Neil: This can’t be happening!

Neil’s Mom: Nobody cares, Neil. You’re a failure. You’ll always be failure.

Sick Monkey: The Origin Story

Scientist: I’m telling you General, I don’t like this. I never signed on to be a part of biological warfare.

General Detento: You don’t like a lot of things, Scientist, but I never hear you complain when your paycheck comes around. And besides: you don’t have a choice anymore. Now stop bitching and test the experimental virus! Inject it! Inject it into the monkey!

(Scientist, his feelings clearly hurt, puts on a biohazard suit and injects the monkey. The monkey screams and then clutches his tummy, showing how he doesn’t feel very good. Scientist seals the monkey in an airtight room with many monkey toys.)

General Detento: It is done. Now what?

Scientist: We wait. Unfortunately, that monkey is as good as dead.

General Detento: You’re sure?

Scientist: General, I am very good at what I do. It’s a virus. Top shelf.

(Sick Monkey is put in an airtight glass room and monitored. We see Sick Monkey looking pale and half-heartedly playing with the monkey toys placed in the room. Soon, Sick Monkey grows more feeble and more skinny. He defecates and vomits in a constant stream)

Scientist (through a speaker): I’m so sorry I did this to you, Sick Monkey. My God! Sick Monkey, your fever is at 109! I don’t want you to die. Don’t die, Sick Monkey! Don’t die!

(Sick Monkey struggles to find strength and is barely able to put his hand up to the window. Scientist does the same. They are friends. All is forgiven.)

Scientist: Thank you… Thank you.

(The Sick Monkey almost dies)

Scientist: No!!!

(Scientist looks at the clock. It is getting late.)

Scientist: I’m going to go to bed. Before you die, Sick Monkey, I need you to do something for me.

(Sick Monkey gives Scientist a look because he’s so sick, what could he possibly be able to do?)

Scientist: Sick Monkey, I need you not to die. Goodnight.

(Scientist leaves the room and goes to bed. The camera focuses on the equipment reading Sick Monkey’s temperature. It goes to 110. Then it goes to 111. Then it goes to 112. Then it goes to one hundred fucking thirteen. An alarm sounds, and Scientist rushes into the lab in wearing a robe and socks.)

Scientist: SICK MONKEY! Sick monkey, I told you NOT…TO…DIE!

(Sick Monkey, his heart barely beating, doesn’t respond. But the equipment reading his temperature drops to 112)

Scientist: Yes! Yes! Keep that up! I’m going back to bed.

(Days tick off the calendar to show the passage of time. Still, Sick Monkey refuses to die. A month later his temperature is at 111 degrees. A month after that, it’s at 109 degrees. He appears to be getting better, though he is still very, very sick. To pass the time, Scientist talks to Sick Monkey through the room’s speark and tries to teach him to understand English. He can’t tell if it’s working or not because Sick Monkey is too weak to respond and he just keeps throwing up.)

Scientist: Sick Monkey, you’re at 108 degrees today. That’s still awful, but it’s better than yesterday. If you can just hold on, Sick Monkey, you can beat this thing! Here, watch this movie about superheroes.

Sick Monkey: VOMIT!!

(Unbelievably, time continues to pass. Sick Monkey’s temperature is soon at a mere 103 degrees.)

Scientist: In a few months, you’re going to be okay, Sick Monkey. You’re going to be okay and I’m going to let you out and I’m going to take you home and we’re going to be friends!

(Sick Monkey gives a weak monkey-smile and one of his teeth falls out. There is puke on it.)

Scientist: Just hang in there.

(Then the day finally comes when Sick Monkey’s temperature is right at normal monkey temperature. At this point, Scientist has a beard.)

Scientist: That’s it! I’m going to unseal your quarantine room!

(Sick Monkey is excited. He’s feeling normal now, and he’s excited to be able to leave. Sick Monkey has learned a lot during his time in quarantine, not the least of which is that Scientist is a good person who has taught him a lot of other things that Sick Monkey has learned.)

Scientist: Okay…I’ll just flip this switch and…you’re free!

(The door unseals itself and Sick Monkey comes out to hug Scientist)

Scientist: Oh…oh no…I don’t feel very good… Sick Monkey, I think you’re still contagious!

(Scientist vomits and defecates continuously and dies, his body covered in filth and twisted in pain. His beard lies peacefully on the floor, firmly attached to his face which is also on the floor.)

Sick Monkey: Monkey cry!

(Days pass and Sick Monkey waits and mourns over the body of Scientist. With the vomit, defecation, and decomposing Scientist, it starts to smell, really, really foul in the lab. Despite how gross it would be, Sick Monkey would unknowingly grow stronger. The same virus that almost killed him, that same virus that killed Scientist, would be making Sick Monkey stronger than he ever was before. And what is more, each passing day would make Sick Monkey would at to his strength. As Sick Monkey would be gently monkey-weeping, General Detento would appear on the vid-screen)

General Detento: My God! Scientist is dead?

Sick Monkey: (patriotically signing using ASL and only ASL): Sick Monkey feel better. Scientist release Sick Monkey. Sick Monkey still contagious. Virus kill Scientist.

General Detento: You’re still contagious? I’m going to use you for warfare!

Sick Monkey: (angrily signing while making a raspberry sound) No! No!

(Sick Monkey picks up a truck that was in the lab and he hurls it in frustration.)

General Detento: Woah! You can trow trucks?! Throwing trucks might be useful…in war! With that strength, Sick Monkey, I will extra use you for warfare! (Note: General Detento would be played by Jorge Garcia of Lost and Becker and Curb Your Enthusiasm Fame. If he will not agree, perhaps a CGI likeness?)

Sick Monkey: (signing) I will use my strength to save people!

General Detento: How are you going to save people, Sick Monkey? You’re so contagious that if you get near people, they’ll die!

Sick Monkey: (signing) Hmmm… (Picks up an Iron bar and bites it in half)

General Detento: We’re going to get you, Sick Monkey. I’m sending my men to capture you.

Sick Monkey: (signing) You’ll never catch me, General. I’m too strong. I’m too contagious. The pain I bring...

General Detento: I will catch you! They’ll be there in 5 minutes. I suggest you surrender, Sick Monkey. You’ll never be able to save people anyway. Not when you’re a contagious fugitive.

(Sick Monkey gives General Detento the bird on the vid-phone. Without another sign, Sick Monkey punches through a wall, and steps outside. A S.W.A.T. team is waiting outside, but before they can shoot Sick Monkey with tranquilizers, they start with the defecating and vomiting. And then of course they all die.)

Sick Monkey: (signing) Fuck. This shit just got real.

Coming to Term

Year: 1941
Place: Top Tropical Government Lab

Sgt. Barl Mensop: (Gruff and serious) Are you sure?

Red Winston: Yes. Yes sir. I double checked.

Sgt. Barl Mensop: And the father? Do we know who he is? I mean, who could even do this?

Red Winston: We don’t know. This is all very new. We have to be very careful. It’s a very delicate pregnancy.

Sgt. Barl Mensop: Well how far along is she?

Red Winston: There’s no way of knowing sir. We think it’s still early, but those are just guesses. You have to understand - we’ve just never witnessed this type of pregnancy before. She could give birth tomorrow, or next year, or she could give birth 68 years from now.

Sgt. Barl Mensop: 68 years?!

(An explosion occurs because it’s the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Red Winston dies because the force of the explosion rips his head off. Barl Mensop survives that, but then is impaled by a bomb.)

Sgt. Barl Mensop: (dying) I can’t….die! If I die there… there will be no one to…tell the world that…the planet Earth…is pregnant! (dies)

Sixty Seven Fucking Years Later:
Scene: A newly married couple is sailing their boat in the Pacific Ocean
Lady Tepper: Dang it!

Laurence Tepper: What?

Lady Tepper: Oh, I just dropped my pregnancy test in the water. I fished it out, but it’s got ocean water on it now.

Laurence Tepper: Wait a holy shit minute! This pregnancy test says “baby”! But that means…

Lady Tepper: That’s impossible, Laurence.

Laurence Tepper: Here... Put another one in the water.

(Lady Tepper puts another pregnancy test in the water. The two stare at it in silence. Again, the word “baby” appears on the pregnancy test.)

Laurence Tepper: Earth is pregnant! This Earth. The Earth I’ve lived on my whole life. It’s pregnant and it’s going to have a baby.

Lady Tepper: What should we do, honey?

Laurence Tepper: We have to let people know. We’ve got to tell the government, an Earthologist, and a Gynecologist! And we’ve got to do it STAT.

Later
Scene: Just the Oval Office
Dr. J. Roberts: Mr. President, it’s true. I know it sounds incredible, but it’s true. Earth’s due any day. But there are –

President X: What will the baby look like? Will it look like me? Like you?

Dr. J. Roberts: The baby will look like a ------------------- (Dr. J. Roberts’ voice is censored and we can’t hear what she says)

President X: Amazing!

Dr. J. Roberts: With all due respect, Mr. President, you bet it’s amazing.

President X: (Ushers my dad out of the Oval Office, and then whispers frantically to Dr. J. Roberts) But what’s this I hear about problems?

Dr. J. Roberts: There were…complications

President X: What do you mean, “complications?”

Dr. J. Roberts: You have to understand, Mr. President, the Earth has been pregnant for a long time. 67 years, we estimate. And we didn’t know! None of us knew!

President X: ….

Dr. J. Roberts: All of the pollution, the mining, the drilling, I mean that kind of stuff takes its toll….

President X: Spit it out, Roberts. Tell me what’s going on!

Dr. J. Roberts: (sighing) It’s Earth’s baby, Mr. President. It’s going to be retarded.

President X: We should’ve taken better care of our environment! We’ve been so careless!?

Dr. J. Roberts: I’m sorry, Mr. President.

President X: Do we…do we know how retarded?

Dr. J. Roberts: Well, we don’t have anything conclusive, yet. We just know it’s pretty bad.

President X: God, oh God!!....What have we done?!

Dr. J. Roberts: That’s not the question to ask, Mr. President.

President X: I’m the president.

Dr. J. Roberts: What we need to ask is “Who’s the father?”

President X: Well?!

Dr. J. Roberts: We don’t know.

President X: I need you to find out, Dr. J. Roberts.

Dr. J. Roberts: I will, Mr. President, but with this type of Earth pregnancy, I’ll have to wait until the Earth baby is born until I do an exciting DNA test.

Thursday:
Dr. J. Roberts: The Grand Canyon is fully dilated! It’s coming!

(In moments, the Earth’s retarded baby’s head crests from the Grand Canyon. Two hours later, there is a small, severely handicapped planet resting on Earth. Its oceans are made out of gravy and its trees grow sideways and bear broken toy fruit. The only thing that lives on the planet are horseys, and even though they’re real, they look like a stupid first grader drew them.)

Severely Retarded Baby Planet: Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar.

President X: My God.

Later:
Dr. J. Roberts: (brushing her red hair out of her eyes) Mr. President, I have some terrible news.

President X: Ok.

Dr. J. Roberts: The baby planet’s retardation is affecting everything on Earth. The average IQ, worldwide, has dropped by over 25 points.

President X: Tell, me, Dr. What should we do? How do we proceed?

Dr. J. Roberts: I’m…I’m worried that the only way to…the only way to bring back the intelligence of the world is to…is to kill the retarded baby planet. And I hate that solution.

President X: !!!

Dr. J. Roberts: And…and I don’t know for sure! I don’t want to rush into this. Sir, I’m having trouble trusting my judgment, knowing full well that even my own intelligence has been lowered. I mean, maybe there’s another way! Must we really kill this planet miracle, just for our own intelligence?

President X: An ethical question beyond even Aristotle.

Dr. J Roberts: Aristotle's the father!

Fur Coat of Arms

(After opening credits, screen is black)

Narrator: Hello, audience. You came here expecting to see a movie. We give you…reality. What you are about to see is actually happening right outside the very theater/home you are sitting in right now. That being said, and we can not stress this enough: DO NOT LEAVE THE THEATER/YOUR HOME. The building you are currently sitting in is the only building in the world that has been deemed absolutely safe by real scientists.

(The blackness on the screen suddenly disappears and the camera shows a movie theater. A woman comes out of the theater)

Woman: Whatever! There's no danger out here! I'm not going to stay in that theater like the Narrator told me!

(All of a sudden the woman is scared and/or something because she's in pain and dead. There's a closeup on her face and she is shocked and her eyes are wide.

Woman: I…I should have listened to the Narrator!

(The woman falls down and nobody knows why except when the camera pulls back there's an anthropomorphic she-fox named Trixie and Trixie just shot the woman with a crossbow. Trixie has silky, golden brown fur. She is quite fit and very noticeably naked.)

Trixie: Now I'm going to enter this movie theater/your house!

Narrator: Look out, audience! She's talking about the very movie theater/home you're in right now!

Trixie: (Looks into camera) Here I come, everybody!

(Trixie approaches the movie theater but suddenly she's machine-gunned down by a man with a lot of muscles and a lot more of only one thing: Guns)

Man: I'm the Narrator!

(The Narrator empties another clip into Trixie's flawless anthropomorphic nudity as he speaks to the audience)

Narrator: Audience, this is the danger I was warning you about. These creatures are taking over the world. First they seduce the population and then they go kill it with crossbows that they made at home without any help from their friends. But I'm going to protect all of you. Just stay inside, no matter what! (snorts a line of coke)

(An anthropomorphic tigress named Tigress, wearing a see-through mesh shirt, cut-off jeans, and black prostitute boots, backflips onto the street. She is part vampire.)

Tigress: (anthropomorphic chest heaving with adrenaline) If you let me destroy your world, we can do it right here, right now.

Narrator: !!!!!

(The narrator launches a grenade at Tigress, and she is so shocked that her mouth opens and she accidentally swallows the grenade.)

Narrator: Hey, audience members watching this in the theater/your home. Before Tigress blows up, know that there was a time when I loved her, when I would have sacrificed anything for her. We were in a such a cool band together. We excelled. She sang and I played bass. And when we fell in love our music, our music which was experimental and edgy to begin with, evolved into this beautiful suffusion of steak and gravy. But it turned out she was anthropomorphic the entire time and she killed my family and my friends. Still...even then...I kept right on loving at her. Why do I tell you this? I tell you so you can see that….well…I'm not a perfect man.

(The grenade inside Tigress blows up.)

Narrator: But I'm a perfect killing machine!

(The Narrator looks through the blown up remains of the sultry anthropomorphic tigress Tigress.)

Narrator: Why didn't you tell me, Tigress? (To the Audience) I just now found out she was pregnant when she blew up.

(A man named Jerry leaves the theater)

Jerry: Man, there's no way that's happening outside. There's no way! Sexy anthropomorphic animals? No way.

Narrator: I said stay the fuck inside!

Jerry: What the? You're.....real?!

Narrator: Look out!

(A velvatine anthropomorphic giraffe, in the bloom of her youth and wearing only a G-string, attempts to bite off Jerry's head. Trying to protect Jerry, the Narrator jumps on top of the giraffe and wrestles it to the ground. The giraffe fights back, and there is a jumble of wrestling and entanglement. Their fighting slows, however, as suddenly the Narrator and the anthropomorphic giraffe are kissing passionately.)

Narrator: Oh, the sweetness…

(Jerry attempts to return to the movie theater, but the Narrator shoots him before he can get back. The screen goes black and the audience just hears the Narrator's voice.)

Narrator: Okay, audience members. It's safe to come out now. No need to worry about the sexy, beautiful, nude anthropomorphic animals. Nobody's going to hurt you. Just…just come out of the theater/your home. The movie's over. Come out….come out!

(Suddenly onscreen is an anthropomorphic she-raccoon named Rockette. She looks to be about 22, and she's wearing a thin white t-shirt with no bra. Through the t-shirt, you can see some of her fur.)

Rockette: Audience! I'm an anthropomorphic raccoon, and I want you to know that I'm on your side! Do not leave the theater/your home! The Narrator is trying to trick you!

Narrator: Don't believe her! I've killed all the anthropomorphic hotties! Come out of the theater/your home! It's safe now!

Rockette: Ok, Narrator, if you've killed them, what am I doing here?

Narrator: (chuckles, evilly) Okay, you caught me, Rockette. But the audience will have to come out sometime, and when they do, I'm going to tear their heads off! Love has blinded me! (Narrator points to the generous chest of the anthropomorphic giraffe.)

Rockette: We've got to work together, Audience! I'm going to try and stop the Narrator and the other anthropomorphic vixens taking over the world, but I need your help! You be my eyes. If you see the Narrator or a buxom anthropomorphic dolphin or horse or other animal, I need you to yell at the movie screen/your television screen and tell me where the danger is. But my hearing isn't so good, so you'll all have to yell together. Should we test it?

Rockette: (pauses)

Rockette: Good. Okay. Pretend there's an undulating anthropomorphic ferret behind me. I'd want you all to yell "Behind you!" Can you try that for me?

Rockette: (pauses)

Rockette: Good. Okay, on the count of three. 1, 2, 3!

Rockette: (pauses)

Rockette: Well...that was okay, but I think you can do better. Lets try it one more time. Come on, you in the back!

Later:
(Rockette is walking through an alley, anxious and on guard. A beautiful anthropomorphic panther wearing a thin, unbuttoned white collar shirt tucked into a red plaid mini-skirt, her chest heaves in anticipation as she gets ready to jump on Rockette)

Rockette: What's that, audience? Above me?

(Rockette fires her homemade crossbow and kills the anthropomorphic panther.)

Rockette: Thanks, guys!