A Conversation with an Idiot (Not Appropriate for All Audiences)

“So I’m going down on this girl….”
“Whoa. Whoa! WHOA! Dude, you cannot begin a story that way.”
“Why not, Bro?”
“Common decency, Dude.”
“All right, Bro. How does this appeal to your delicate sensibilities: I’m generously, and rather vigorously, preforming cunnilingus on my lover when she….”
“No, Dude. Stop.”
“What now, Bro?”
“You’re going to offend people, and get me thrown out of the meeting.”
“Why? Aren’t we living in a sexually liberated time and place?”
“Dude, I don’t know. It’s so obvious no one’s ever said it out loud before. But I guess, if I had to put my finger on it, I’d say you lack poetry. To begin a story with oral sex lacks a certain sense of grace. I can’t be so direct tomorrow. It’s never good to be that nail on the head with sensitive topics.”
“Bro?”
“You need to weave a little magic, Dude. Spread a little fairy dust, you know?”
“Yeah. You’re right. Of course you’re right. Spread a little fairy dust before she spreads. Got it. I can do this. So I’m lapping up this chick like a dog on a dreamsicle.”
“No!”
“You’re right. You’re right. Dreamsicle is too phallic. How about I’m lapping up this chick like she’s a blueberry pie, and I’m in pie eating contest.”
“I have very serious doubts about your sincerity towards this project.”
“And I’m going for the gold when….”
“All right. You know what, that’s enough. You’re disgusting, Dude.”
“Bro, you going into a pay cable television network to pitch them your movie. Pay cable. You think they pitched Game of Thrones by saying ‘And at the end of the first season we’re going to chop off Ned’s head.’ Huh? Do you?”
“Dude….”
“No. They said we’ve got this gorgeous blonde with huge natural tits and in the first episode she gets bent over and….”
“Jesus Christ! That’s enough. You’re offending me. And that’s hard to do.”
“Grow up, Bro.”
“That was a disgusting scene, Dude. It was just a perverted rape fantasy. And the most insulting part was that the poor girl supposedly liked it. You know, despite the tears and the humiliation. I don’t want to be that.”
“This is me scoffing, Bro.”
“Seriously. That is the very definition of selling out.”
“Morena Baccarin, in Homeland, is having sex with a dude as a natural part of the story because it is natural for humans to have sex with each other. To film this natural scene they put Morena on top because she’s a powerful woman. As a result of this positioning the audience happened to see her breast –bouncing up and down I might add. When Morena was finished, she stood up to go to the bathroom because that’s what happens in real life when people finish having sex. The film makers are just being honest. And as a result this dismount, the audience happened to see bush. Then Morena walks across the room with no modesty what so ever because why would she be modest after riding a guy like he’s a stallion, and the audience happened to see butt. One scene, honestly filmed, three B’s, Bro. Three.”
“And the point here is? You’re a sexist pig?”
“No. The point is, if Morena’s willing to go full frontal for her art, you need to man up and use your big boy words in your little meeting tomorrow. You only got this meeting because you said in your query letter your story was sexy.”
“Yeah, Dude, it is sexy. But sexy has never involved the simile ‘like she was blueberry pie.’”
“Sexy is polite code for naked and shocking. At least in the pay cable world. This is network that brought you Spidergirl, you remember that movie? It’s the whit the girl who shoots webbing out of her whisker biscuit.”
“I called you down here to help me, not to fuck me up.”
“Remember that story you wrote back in undergrad about the ‘two’ on the watch face?”
“Yeah.”
“Remind me how that went.”
“Well, there was an anthropomorphized two on a watch face –representing the Cartesian idea that all humans are clocks and God is the clock maker. But this two felt like he didn’t belong on his watch; he was uncomfortable in his place. The second hand was always making fun of him for not being number one. His neighbors one and three didn’t understand his desire to be something different, so they were often cruel. And this treatment resulted in his continual alienation which in turn only deepened his dream of seeing the world from a place that wasn’t encased in glass. The wise, slow moving hour hand encouraged Two to cultivate his inner peace. In their time together Hour Hand whispered chapters from the Tao to Two and helped him meditate on his place in the universe. But as Two came closer and closer to attaining enlightenment, to discovering the key to inner peace, his need to leave the world he knew became greater and greater. Two’s need intensified until one day he made his decision and committed to serious and violent action. He broke free of his place on the watch face and made his attempt to move beyond the glass. But separated from his “proper” place in the world, Two had no purpose. He felt like he didn’t belong to the watch, but he surely didn’t belong in the world outside the watch. He soon fell down to the bottom of the face, and there, cradled in the one arm of the gentle six, Two died.”
“Yeah. And was this pretentious little parable ever published?”
“No.”
“So what happened?”
“I called the Dude.”
“You called in the Dude. And what did I do?”
“You told me to add the bit about Two needing to make himself so sharp in order to cut himself free from the watch face that when the crucial moment came he not only cut the watch, but he nicked an atom deep in the crystal that marked his place. This nicked atom split and started a chain reaction that ultimately ended in a giant nuclear explosion that destroyed the entire south side of Chicago.”
“And was that story published?”
“Yes. That’s why I called you down here. But Dude, you just punctuated my joke, you just heightened the satire I was already creating. The point was there is no eternally accepted order so precious that if you break it you are going to die.”
“Yeah, but individual death is pretentious and sad, while giant nuclear explosions that kill millions people and their watches are hilarious. You gotta turn the volume on these things up to eleven, twelve, thirteen. HBO has already given us bondage, S and M….”
“Rape fantasies….”
“Rape fantasies, and that naked chick on True Blood who spent the entire season running around covered entirely in blood except for her puffy pubes.”
“Yeah, that was weird.”
“So, how are you going to be different? How are you going to amp it up? What are you going to bring to the table that is shocking?”
“But that’s not what this movie is about, Dude. Not really.”
“Lay it on me, Bro. What is your movie really about?”
“Magic. Innocence. Wonder.”
“Bro! You told me, and more importantly you told them, that there was steamy bit where your hero headed downtown.”
“Initiation into a sexual world is magic. It is wondrous. But it comes at price. Something wonderful, in the true sense of the word –as in full of wonder –is gained, but something just as wonderful is lost. And once that threshold is crossed there is no going back. You can’t undo it. It’s bitter sweet at best.”
“Are you sure you’re not a chick, Bro. Why don’t you grab your balls and make sure they’re still attached.”
“Fuck you.”
“Okay. You don’t want to hear what I have to say, we’ll approach this in a different way. Roll play. I am now the executive in charge of original features at pay cable central. You have spent the better part of two years honing your craft to produce a hundred twenty pages of delight, and now you want me to give you somewhere between twenty and thirty million dollars to turn your ink soaked pages into celluloid. Go.”
“Thank you for seeing me sir, I really appreciate your time.”
“Then don’t waste it. And don’t call me sir you sexist pig, I’m a tough as nails chick executive. Now how much money have your previous films generated in the home video and overseas markets?”
“I haven’t made a previous film.”
“So you’re an unknown commodity.”
“I guess so.”
“I don’t like unknowns. They offend my risk averse nature. Right now I’m an associate in charge of features. Next year I want to be VP of U.S. programing. I’m not gonna get there riding an unknown horse.”
“Come on, Dude. She’s not going to be a total bitch. They did schedule the meeting. I’m not some schmo walking in off the street.”
“Don’t break character, Bro. You’re learning something here. Now. I’m not going to get there riding an unknown horse.”
“Riding an unknown horse is the only way to get there. Unknowns come cheap. I’m the greatest bargain you’re ever gonna find.”
“Go on.”
“ I understand you’re risk averse, but everything comes with a risk, don’t worry about that part. Worry about the risk that can’t be managed. I am easily managed.”
“I like that. Arrogance works for a writer. So many of you are so fucking whiney it makes me want to tear my hair out. Brass tax, writer boy. Market research indicates that our primary audience consists of two groups. Pubescent boys who’s parents have locked out the internet and overweight men who don’t like to leave their recliner. Whatever you have for me can’t drive away my core demographic.”
“Fair enough. I can do sexy. But I don’t do vulgarity. I do sexy with a brain, and if that’s not right for you, then I’m afraid I have wasted your time.”
“No. Not yet you haven’t. You’ve earned my attention.”
“Good. We open on our hero, Jimmy….”
“Jimmy? Sounds like Timmy of Lassie. There’s nothing I hate more than a Danny Tanner you-see-Timmy.”
“No Jimmy, as in Jimmy Stewart, but much younger. He’s sweet. Credible. Likable. But above all, identifiable. Especially to your core demographic. Jimmy is on the cusp of tweendom. He’s about to leave behind boyhood things, childish things. Legos. Dinosaurs. And his favorite Mario sheets. But he’s also about to leave behind absolute morality, a black and white view of good and evil and the nature of the world. It’s frightening. And confusing. He’s a boy poised at the mouth of cave.”
“Is it a deep moist cave?”
“Shut up. Don’t break character. I’m learning something here.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s Plato’s cave. Behind him, inside the cave, are the shadows of childhood, and in front of him is the post-pubescent world of teens. And Jimmy is unsure.”
“Why?”
“Because Jimmy is special, unique. The shadows of childhood that are incorporeal for most of us are real, tangible creatures for him and him alone. Not just Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, but Superman….”
“Careful, there are copyrights to consider.”
“Not Warner Brothers’ Superman per se, but a recognizable derivative, anyway Superman, King Arthur, Robin Hood these are Jimmy’s playmates, his friends –The Rough Riders. They go on grand adventures together. In fact the opening sequence is grandest adventure of the film.”
“What happened to the cave?”
“It was a metaphor.”
“I knew it. It was deep, moist metaphor.”
“Jesus, are you twelve?”
“I like what I like, Bro.”
“Dude. You’re spoiling the mood here.”
“Sorry, Bro.”
“So you see the Red Ninja clan, who was defeated in the last great war, have captured the Sacred Katana of the Third Kingdom. Without it, the Devine Empress cannot rule with the mandate of heaven. She calls the greatest warriors in the realm to aid her, but they are all afraid of the growing mystic power of the Red Ninja. Only Jimmy and the Rough Riders are up to the challenge.
“When the Devine Empress admits Jimmy into the court chamber to give him his mission, the Empress is alone, and he is alone with her.”
“Like the end of the Never Ending Story?”
“Yeah. But despite the moonlight filling the rotunda of the Holy Temple, and the gentle waves of the nearby ocean filling the air with a symphony of romantic nature, Jimmy sees the Empress as Olive Oil.”
“What?”
“Olive Oil.”
“As in fry me a steak in some olive oil?”
“No. Like Pop Eye. Stick figure. No curves. No trace of the feminine sublime. Weird joints, rubbery arms, Olive Oil.”
“No, Bro. The Empress should be hot. Smokin’ Hot.”
“Did the tough as nails chick executive just call me, Bro?”
“Meh. That bit has used up it usefulness. The Empress needs to be hot.”
“She will be, Dude. Trust me. This is going somewhere.”
“All right. But skip ahead to the ninjas. Ninjas are cool.”
“Okay. So It’s Jimmy, King Arthur, Robin Hood, Superman, and Santa all in Santa’s sleigh.”
“Even Superman?”
“It’s jumpy Superman, the Superman before he could fly.”
“Right that makes sense.”
“They’re skimming the ocean, staying low to avoid the magnifying glass enhanced torch based search lights of the ninja.”
“Cool.”
“I know right.”
“It’s foggy. And the search lights cut the night like a sword. It takes all of Santa’s skill to maneuver the sleigh around the beams.”
“I’m having trouble with the visual here, Bro. Are there reindeer and jingle bells here.”
“No. The sleigh is in combat mode. No deer. No bells. But a sortie of sidewinder missiles have been attached to each side. And the red and silver color palate has been muted to a camo like blanket.”
“Got it, thanks.”
“So Santa is driving this thing like Junior at Daytona. He’s bobbing and weaving, inside, outside, staying low but always just above the water. And always just ahead of the beams of light. Robin snags Jimmy’s attention and points to the water. He sees a mermaid swimming along with them. She’s topless and pay cable beautiful. Jimmy does a double take but when he looks again the mermaid has become a dolphin. Robin says dolphins are sign of luck.
“They reach the rocky cliff base. The waves crash and throw white spume high into the air. Santa pulls the sleigh into a steep climb, and they fly straight up the sheer limestone rockface. Weapons are readied.
“Robin limbers his bow and checks his fletching. Arthur wakes Excalibur from the sleeping scabbard. Superman climbs on to the front of the sleigh and prepares to jump. And Santa arms the sidewinders.”
“What about Jimmy?”
“Jimmy’s Jimmy. Our hero. He carries the greatest weapon in the universe.”
“A Lightsaber!”
“It’s an elegant weapon, for a more civilized age.”
“What color?”
“Luke’s pale blue before it was digitally enhanced, of course.”
“Of course. Sorry, stupid question.”
“They crest the summit of the cliff. Superman springs off the top of the sleigh and he lands in that one knee arm up pose that cracks the rock itself. He takes on like twenty guys. Santa lets loose the missiles at the heart of the castle. Huge explosions. Giant fireballs turn the night from cool grey to angry red and orange. Robin sticks with Santa to pick off the snipers on castle rampart; he’s just liquid smooth as he lets the arrows fly. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Arthur head towards the treasure temple and the Red Ninja King.
“What follows next is a duel of Shakespearian proportion.
“No. Don’t pull back the camera. Stay in the moment, Bro. Action words.”
“Shuriken fly at Jimmy’s face. The lightsaber snaps to life and fends them off. Arthur, lacking Jimmy’s skill, is hit, but not killed. The Ninja King laughs at the diminutive warrior in front of him and draws the Sacred Katana. The Ninja King towers over Jimmy. But Jimmy is unafraid. A smile?
“He dives into the red-masked monstrosity, whip-hard and crackling with kinetic energy. His ferocity dominates the larger foe and his lightsaber hums of death as it arcs through the darkened temple.
“The Ninja King is over matched and the duel, like all real duels, is intense but quick. Jimmy clips the Ninja’s knee which puts him down. Then he cuts off the Ninja’s hands at the wrist, forever removing the his power, and then sidekicks the broken king in face. Jimmy stands on the man’s chest and peers into his eyes, looking for something. Jimmy peers into the man’s soul and finds not a scrap of kindness. There could never be kindness there. Jimmy drives his lightsaber into the exposed throat of his fallen enemy. And it’s over.”
“Brutal.”
“Oh, it’s left a mark on Jimmy for sure, Dude.”
“Then what happens.”
“Well Jimmy gathers up the Sacred Katana and returns to the Holy Temple. When the Rough Riders arrive the Empress has changed. Morphed. She’s no longer Olive Oil. She’s something out of a Frank Frazeta painting.”
“But not a monster.”
“Not a monster. A loin cloth clad, phallic symbol handling, super babe. With pouty lips, sparkling eyes, and perfect lipstick no matter what she’s just eaten.”
“I don’t like that description. It’s too vague. What do you mean sparkling eyes?”
“You remember the close up of Megan Fox at the end of Transformers 1?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Sparkling eyes.”
“Got it.”
“Jimmy pretends not to notice the change. He holds out the katana for her, blade towards her as a sign of the trust he has for her. Her hand lightly grazes the sword’s hilt. Just the tip of her fingers glide across the stiff, leather wrapped handle, and the Rough Riders flicker out of existence.
“In fact the entire rotunda disappears for a quarter second and is replaced by Jimmy’s bedroom. But Jimmy brings back the temple with a thought. ‘What are you doing?’ he says. ‘Is this some kind of magic?’
“Her lips brush his ear. Her breath is so warm you can see it. ‘Yes,’ she says. The hair on back of Jimmy’s neck stands straight up. And the Rough Riders disappear.
“But Jimmy can bring them back. The Empress takes the Sacred Katana from Jimmy and slides across the temple from the Rough Riders. There Jimmy stands in the navel of the round room. To his right are his friends and all their magic power. And to his left is the girl, barely clad, sparkling eyes, smokey expression.
“She handles the sword lightly, gently. She lets it rest in the palm of her hand. She smooths one hand down the length of its shaft as if to wipe away any dust. Now holding the scared blade with only one hand, she hooks a thumb into her belt and pulls the elastic fur away from her hip.
“Jimmy is riveted. He has never seen the naked hip bone of a real woman. It’s round and tan. It appears soft, but there is firmness just underneath the surface that promises strength. She could handle a certain roughness. Her eyes catch Jimmy’s and hold them while the takes the swords and slips it into her waistband and lets it rest firm against her perfect hip.
“The rotunda of the Holy Temple disappears. Jimmy sits at his desk arranging action figures in an intricate diorama, but the Rough Riders are there; they are really there standing in his room right next to him. But Jimmy turns away from them. He turns towards his bed where the Empress waits. She’s on her back knees up, arms at her side.
“Jimmy stands and the Rough Riders fade. He takes a step towards the bed and his friends begin to dissolve into nothing. He kneels on the bed and crawls towards the girl and when he looks over his shoulder, his friends are all but gone. For a second, for a fleeting brief second he brings them back. Robin waves goodbye. Jimmy slides his arms under the Empress’ legs so her feet are draped over his shoulders and his hands rest on her belly. She looks down at him and smiles.”
“Is she real?”
“It doesn’t matter. She will be. But the Riders are gone. That is the moment they disappear forever. Never to return.”
“I just have one question, Bro.”
“What’s that?”
“Why not tell it straight? I mean it’s a good story. Why couch it in this lost innocence bullshit? I mean Ninjas are cool. Hot chicks who reward their knights are cool. A merry band of superheros are cool. This is a cool story. And if you tell it straight then Robin doesn’t have to wave goodbye and no one is bummed out at the end.”
“To tell it straight is to tell it boring. Who hasn’t heard the story of the Knight-Errant on a quest for the magic whatever?”
“So. The power of story is in it’s telling. There is no original story. There never has been. Tell it straight and tell it well and you’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted to be.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got Santa, Ninjas, and a hot chick in a fur loin cloth. That’s a hell of a combination. If I tell it straight people won’t follow me. They are going to jump off at each step along the way.”
“Bro, I love you. Not in a gay way. Well okay maybe in a little bit of a gay way. But I love you. Because I love you, I can tell you that I think you’re scared. The power of story is in it’s telling. And you’re afraid if you tell your story without artifice you won’t have the power to bring it off.”
“Well yeah, Dude. Of course I’m scared. The Story of Jimmy and the Rough Riders vs The Red Ninja Clan begins with the phrase, ‘The Red Ninja King steps into the rotunda of the Holy Temple and steals the Sacred Katana of the Devine Empress.’ On the other hand my story begins with the phrase, ‘So I’m going down on this girl for the first time in my life, and in that moment I realize that there is magic in the world; it’s just not where I had thought it was.’”