Thursday, July 13, 2006

Apocalypse Now II: Revenge of the Apocalypse (an Excerpt from an Original Screenplay)

[Scene opens with long shot from above and behind of two soldiers side by side slowly walking down a desolate, dusty urban street shortly after sundown. The shot slowly zooms in during opening narration.]

LEARNEDFOOT: [Voiceover narration] I no longer fear hell because I've already been there. Our company has been patrolling this gosh-forsaken heckhole for a month now. We've seen little action, but one gets the feeling that the natives are planning something. The enemy is everywhere, but nowhere. It's been too quiet. And hot. And dark. We have the almost-full moon; the enemy has everything else. My old buddy Dementee and I pulled the dusk to dawn patrol short straw tonight. It couldn't end soon enough for us. Something's going to happen tonight. I can feel it.

LF: God, I hate this shit.

DEMENTEE: TRUE DAT, YO!!!!!!!!!!!

LF: Of all the nights to pull guard duty, we get the hottest, most humid night of the year.

DEM: *SIGH!!!!!!*

LF: I can't wait to get out of this armpit of the world.

DEM: ME TOO!!!!!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO WHEN YOU GET BACK HOME??????!!!!!!

LF: Me? Ah hell. I dunno. Maybe golf a little. Sleep a little. Drink a lot.... You?

DEM: ME GONNA MAKE SWEET SWEET LOVE TO WIFE, THEN NAP FOR THREE DAY!!!!!!!

LF: Mmmhmm. That sounds mighty good. Maybe I'll sleep with your wife too.

DEM: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

LF: Hahahahahahahahahaaha!

DEM: [stops laughing abruptly] DON'T MAKE DEMENTEE SHOOT YOU!!!!!!!

LF: Hey now! Just bustin' yer balls.

DEM: ME JUST -

[sound of running footsteps]

DEM: YOU HEAR THAT???????!!!!!!!!

LF: Yeah.

[They shoulder their weapons, and survey the area]

DEM: ME NOT SEE ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!

LF: Me neither. Must've been some -

[A bomb detonates loudly nearby]

DEM: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

LF: What the-

[A second bomb detonates closer]

DEM: TAKE COVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LF: Shit! Shit! Shit! Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!!!

[They dive behind a rusted-out '75 Chevy Nova]

DEM: ME THINK WE GOT SOME I.E.D. HERE!!!!!!

LF: [Sarcastically] Ya' think?

[Another bomb goes off. It's so close that it lifts them off the ground and throws them six feet. The quickly scamper back behind the Nova.]

LF: F**K!!!

DEM: ME NOT WANNA DIE!!!!!! ME NOT WANNA DIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!

LF: [Slapping Dementee across the face] Get a hold of yourself man!

DEM: ME SORRY!!!!!!! WHAT WE GONNA DO??????!!!!!!!

LF: We need to call in some air support -

[Another bomb explodes]

LF: Given the number and placement of those explosive devices, I'd guess that we're out numbered.

DEM: GOOD IDEA!!!!!!! WHERE RADIO????!!!!!!

LF: It's in my pack. [LearnedFoot drags pack toward himself, opens it, and starts rummaging through it. While he's digging through the pack, he sings quietly to himself:] Live to fly / Fly to live / Aces hiiiiiiighhhhhhhhh -

[Dementee slaps LearnedFoot across face]

DEM: GET HOLD OF SELF, MAN!!!!!!! THIS NO TIME FOR IRON MAIDEN!!!!! JUST GET FRICKIN' RADIO!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!

LF: Sorry. Got it! [Into radio:] Sneaky Weasel to Simple Simon! Come in Simple Simon! Over!

[After a short pause, the fuzzy voice of Simple Simon comes over the radio]

NOTORIOUS BIL: This is Simple Simon. What's your SITREP? Over.

LF: Sneaky Weasel. We are under heavy enemy fire. We've encountered four -

[Another bomb blows up nearby]

LF: - five - improvised explosive devices. We need air support. Over.

BILL: Do you have the enemy's coordinates? Over.

LF: That's a negative! We can't see anything out here except for the occasional blinding flash of recently ignited C4. Over.

BILL: Well, how the hell am I supposed to tell our bombers where to drop their ordinance unless I know where the enemy position is? Over.

LF: I don't give a shit! Just flatten the entire area!

BILL: That's a roger! Tell me your coordinates, so we can at least know where not to bomb. Over?

LF: [Cranes his neck and looks around] OK. We're near the intersection of Plymouth Avenue North and Morgan Avenue! Get those bombers here YESTERDAY!

BILL: They're on their way. Out.

LF: [Muttering to himself as he returns the radio to the bag] This whole thing is a quagmire. A quag-f**king-mire.

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