The Point .08 Killer

HARRY: My hot rod is crashed because of that stupid wall.

JACK: No it is because you DRUNK DRIVE!

HARRY: Shut up! I’m a good driver and if I have a drink it is okay!

JACK: That is crazy! You almost died in the car reck! Open your eyes and see!

HARRY: Shut up!

JACK: No I won’t shut up until you realize that sooner or later your going to KILL somebody when you drink and drive.

HARRY: If you won’t shut up then I am going to kill you in your sleep!

JACK: Well you won’t be able to because I won’t sleep until you are dead!

HARRY: It is impossible to not sleep forever. If you wait until I die you will accidentally fall asleep and when you do I will know and I will kill you

JACK: DON’T YOU SEE?! YOU WILL DIE SOON BECAUSE YOU DRUNK TOO MUCH!!

HARRY: I AM NOT TO DRUNK TO FIRE THIS GUN IN YOUR FACE!

JACK: HA! You can’t. I am not asleep yet.

HARRY: But when you do sleep I will kill you then.

JACK: Agreed.

**when HARRY walks away it is revealed that JACK is also carrying a gun and he shoots HARRY in the back with it**

HARRY: You shot me. But I thought you were going to wait.

JACK: HAHA. I did wait. I waited for you to turn around. And then I did shoot you.

HARRY: Why did you murder me?

JACK: Because don’t you now? My grandpa was killed by a drunk driver! Now I kill drunk drivers.

HARRY: Your vigilante!

JACK: Yes I vigilanteed your ass. Now go to hell, drunk driver mother effer.

**HARRY dies and JACK laughs**

JACK: HAHAHA! That is one less drunk drive for the world to worry about. But what is sad is that I also am alcholholic.

**JACK leaves and goes to a tavern and gets drunk**

BARTENDER: Hello JACK. Where is HARRY?

JACK: I don’t know. Maybe he was trying to drive home drunk and he died.

BARTENDER: Like when you drove drunk home and killed your GRANDPA?!!!!

The Dead Space

The setting is Ryfle and Rue are floating in space and they are wearing regular clothes and not space suit clothes.

Ryfle McClanahan: We have been been in space for a long time!!

Rue Shahtguhn: Yes. Who knew that people can breath in the vacuum of space???

Ryfle: Nobody did at all.

Rue: Unfortunately there is something wrong.

Ryfle: Oh no!! What is wrong???

Rue: I'll tell you. We froze to death millions of years ago.

Ryfle: You mean we are ghosts???

Rue: Yes that is exactly what I mean. Even though we are closer to the sun while we are floating in space it is still cold too cold to live.

Ryfle: Yes, you are right. It is obvious that ghosts are real and that we are some of them.

Rue: Oh no do you know what that means???

Ryfle: Tell me.

Rue: It means that we are going to float in space forever because can ghosts die??? No.

Ryfle: Oh no you are right.

Rue: Right as rain.

Ryfle: I miss rain because it doesn't rain in space.

Rue: Except it rains meteors!!

Ryfle: Hahahahaha! Good joke, Rue!!!

Rue: Thank you, Ryfle.

Ryfle: Here is a question. Is it ture that when people in space become ghosts they are either a good ghost or a bad ghost???

Rue: No that is made up. It is a myth that people said on the Internet.

Ryfle: Look a black hole!!

Rue: We are getting sucked into it. It is a good thing we are already dead because a black hole would kill us.

Ryfle: You are right. Now it is interesting instead of scary.

Rue: We're getting sucked in!! I wonder whats going to happen!!!!

Ryfle: Scientists have a theory about what happens. Lets see if their right!!!

Rue: I'm in the black hole now and its so great because I'm alive now again and the plus cold space is okay and it doesn't kill me!!

Ryfle: They were right!!!!

Rue: And do you know what else is cool now????

Ryfle: There is more???!!!

Rue: Yes. If I paint something now it comes to life.

Ryfle: Paint us a huge spaceship that is filled with beautiful ladies. Paint us home.

Rue: That is hard to draw but I will do it. I will draw fast because now that I'm alive this black hole is starting to kill me!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ryfle: Draw as fast as you can!!!

Rue: There. All done. But I'm dead.

Ryfle: He did it. There is a spaceship with beautiful ladies. It is too bad he is dead. But I can bring him back to life by using his hand to draw himself back to life.

Rue: Thanks, Ryfle.


Ryfle: You are welcome. Seond star to the right and straight on till morn.

Rue: Yes captain.

Don't Call People

It is the year 2572 A.D. The future. The Global Warming… has been solved. The pollution …has been solved. Even the war crisis…has been solved. Yet, yet another problem is facing our nation like the deadly ferocity of a lion. That problem is called overpopulation. MIT students with 4.0s have made advances in food technology, sky houses, and space travel. Even though they did, overpopulation has made extra people something that’s bad. Because extra people means extra phone calls. The population explosion left phone lines so jammed that nobody could even call nobody. The United World of America Government was forced to take action. Immediately. And extreme circumstances called for extreme measures. So now, whenever somebody makes a call the government kills a random guy. When they do this, the person who made the call will feel guilty and won’t want to call again. Plus there will be one less person to use a phone in the future. But sometimes people still make phone calls.

Valtony is a government agent and it’s his job to kill somebody when a call is made. Whenever somebody calls somebody, he gets a random name is sent to him from Mr. Internet, who in 2572 is now a real person who can live forever. So one day Valtony gets the name of kill the United World of America’s Emperor. Something is bad about this! The Emperor’s name was supposed to not be on the list.

Valtony gets ready to kill the Emperor, but then he has a dream that says don’t. Somebody is a killer and wants Valtony to assassinate the Emperor! The name was sent to him on porpoise! But who is doing it that is the mystery. The dream was so real, so Valtony quits his job as a government agent so he can be a detective to see who tried to kill the Emperor. But to do the case Valtony has to make a ton of phone calls. People keep dying because of him and Valtony feels really crappy. Soon he finds out that the guy who is doing it is Mr. Internet!

How can Valtony stop Mr. Internet when he is a real person that knows everything? Valtony must hack into him and give him an Mr. Internet virus. Valtony goes to his Poltony and he asks him and he says that I need you to make a virus to kill Mr. Internet. Poltony went to MIT and so he starts to do it, but then he gets killed by a government agent because somebody in the world made a phone call. It was a coincidence. So then Valtony jumps out of the way of a bullet and takes the computer virus upstairs and forcefeeds it to non other than Mr. Internet. Mr. Internet gets sick and dies and its good because he wanted to rule the whole world that’s why he wanted the Emperor to die. Valtony calls the Emperor and says you’re safe, but its sad because when he called the Emperor a government agent coincidentally ended up killing his son. Meanwhile the same exact thing was happening on Mars, where humans have lived in since 2412.

Delay of Game

Scene: During a Yankee game, an alien ship descends onto the field. Yankee 3^rd baseman Morgan Ensberg steps out from the ship. The spaceship flies away.

Morgan: Hey everybody! I’m back!

Umpire: Morgan? We didn’t know you were gone!

Morgan: What do you mean you didn’t know? Who’s playing 3^rd base?

Umpire: That’s what’s so strange, Morgan…You’re!

(the camera goes to third base and sure enough, there’s Morgan Ensberg, playing catch with the shortstop)

Morgan: But that’s impossible! I’m right here!

(Morgan Ensberg stops playing catch and walks over to Morgan Ensberg)

Morgan: Hey! What’s going on?!

Morgan: That’s what I want to know.

Morgan: You look just like me!

Morgan: I guess I do. That’s so – Quick! Everybody run! There’s a werewolf on the field!

(nobody sees a werewolf)

Morgan: Morgan?

Morgan: Yeah?

Morgan: I don’t see a werewolf. Were you trying to say that you are the werewolf?

Morgan: No! Of course not! You mean…you mean you don’t see it?

Morgan: I’m sorry, no.

Morgan: That’s so weird. I guess…I guess that when the aliens took me they made it so I imagine werewolves are everywhere.

Morgan: Woah. I’m glad I’m not you.

Morgan: But you are! Look out! A werewolf!

Morgan: No. There are no werewolves.

Morgan: Hmmm.

(the crowd starts to boo)

Umpire: Can you guys talk about werewolves later? We’ve got a game going on here. Morgan, you’re needed at 3^rd base.

Morgan: I’m not going anywhere near 3^rd base. That’s werewolf country.

Morgan: He was talking to me.

Morgan: Oh. But I’m on the team too.

Morgan: Oh really? Well let me just check the roster. Let’s see, I see the name Morgan Ensberg. That’s me. I’ll check that one off. Now…le’s see…I’m looking for the name “The Morgan Ensberg Who Thinks There Are Werewolves Everywhere” That’s so strange. It’s not on here.

(Meanwhile, there’s no such thing as werewolves)

Morgan: You don’t have to be a jerk about it.

Morgan: Go back to where you came from, Morgan. Go call your alien buddies and get the heck out of here. There’s only room for one Morgan Ensberg, and I’m him.

Morgan: Don’t you see? I can’t go back! They’re gone. The aliens are gone. They left and they’re not coming back. So here I am. I’m suddenly in a world that doesn’t want me. I suddenly don’t belo- Look out! It’s the wolf man!

Morgan: Somebody get him out of here.

(Security comes and takes Morgan Ensberg away)

Morgan: Don’t take me, you idiots! Take the other Morgan Ensberg! The one wearing the alien spacesuit!

(Security releases Morgan and then walks away, sullenly)

Umpire: Hey look! A full moon!

Morgan: You know, maybe I should get some psychiatric care. I’m really…I’m sorry, but it really looks like there are werewolves all over the place.

Morgan: I’m done talking to you.

Umpire: Don’t be like that, Morgan. Morgan, if you think you need psychiatric care, that’s certainly an option. Do you think we can discuss it later though? Everyone here is waiting for this baseball game to resume.

Morgan: Sure. Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Baseball’s really great and I certainly don’t want to ruin it for any fans.

Later:

Morgan: Hey Umpire?

Umpire: Yes?

Morgan: Can you get me a gun and a bunch of silver bullets?

Umpire: Why, Morgan? Why do you need them?

Morgan: I don’t wanna say.

Umpire: Morgan, I think this paranormal detective agency we’ve opened is a great idea. I think it’s going to make us a lot of money. But, if we’re going to do this, I need two things from you. First, you’re going to have to get over all of the delusions implanted into your mind by space aliens. Second, you need to invent a poltergeist killing machine that can be affordably mass produced in case we decide to market that shit.

Morgan: What if I’m too busy to do those things?

Umpire: Too busy doing what?

Morgan: Too busy playing the best damn 3^rd base of my life.

Umpire: Play ball!

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)

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!