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BBC SCREENPLAY FORMAT

by
(Name of First Writer)

(Based on, If Any)

There should be one


contact address only
in the bottom left
hand corner.
Always include a phone
number and an e-mail
address if you have one.

INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION BATHROOM - NIGHT


In a sprawling, dimly-lit master bathroom, a Polaroid camera
sits on the edge of a jacuzzi. A red light on the front of
the camera flashes at first slowly, and then more rapidly.
Moving shapes are reflected on the curvature of the cheap
lens.
SUPER: PROLOGUE: DON GATELY
Two robbers, DON GATELY, 27, a giant dinosaur of a man, and
TRENT KITE, 25, are bent over across the bathroom, their
pants around their ankles and their asses facing the camera.
Trent grabs a pink toothbrush from the counter and shoves it
head-first into his asshole. We can see that Don already has
a blue toothbrush lodged firmly in his rectum.
Both chuckle like high-school pranksters beneath not-soinnocent smiling clown masks. Don lifts a middle-finger at
the Polaroid as the flash fires.
A photo rolls out of the front of the camera. Don hikes his
pants back up, rinses the toothbrush, places it back in the
toothbrush holder carefully, and snatches the photo out of
the Polaroid.
FIRST ROBBERY SEQUENCE - SERIES OF SHOTS
Don grabs two antique shotguns out of a gun case.
Trent slips a coin collection into a trash bag.
Don mockingly and carefully stacks a pile of sundry valuables
in the center of the living room.
Trent glances at a framed photograph of a man in a giant
stetson with a feather in the band and his wife- the
homeowners- and then sweeps it off a counter. It shatters.
Don places the Polaroid photo with graphic imagery in an
envelope addressed to the homeowners along with a standard
American Dental Association brochure on good dental hygiene
and licks the flap, sealing it.
EXT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION - NIGHT
Don kneels next to the external electric box outside the
mansion. He fiddles with some of the wires methodically but
playfully.
Ready...

DON

A metal plate drops out of the box.

2.

Set...

DON (CONTD)

Don takes a deep breath.


Go!

DON (CONTD)

Don springs to his feet and starts jogging toward the street
through the front yard. The alarm immediately starts going
off and the lights turn on in the house.
As Don approaches the streetlight, he whips off his smiling
clown mask. We can see his great, huge rectangular head and
Prince Valiant black hair. Hes truly a beast of a human
being, but hes breathing heavily as he hurtles toward safety
with a big grin on his face.
SECOND ROBBERY SEQUENCE - SERIES OF SHOTS
Trent and Don emerge from a car in a shady street.
Don expertly shunts the alarm box in the shadows of a mansion
and gives Trent a thumbs-up.
Trent and Don enter the house in clown masks and begin
lifting valuables.
Close up as Don shunts yet another alarm box at yet another
mansion with a signature metal plate.
We see masked silhouettes of Don and Trent in yet another
mansion.
Trent and Don shut the back door with full trash bags,
exiting the mansion.
EXT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION - NIGHT
Don pulls a plate off another electrical box, inserts a metal
plate, screws it in, slips his clown mask over his face, and
gives a thumbs up to Trent.
Trent, also in a clown mask, nods at Don and opens the flimsy
rear French doors to the mansion.
INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT
GUILLAUME DUPLESSIS, 65, snores fitfully, his nose plugged by
some sort of cold, in bed upstairs with a as Don and Trent
break into his home. Theres a hot water bottle on his chest
and a half-empty glass of OJ and a bottle of NyQuil on his
bedside table.

3.
Guillaume rolls over after a particularly troublesome snore
and sputters awake. Opening his eyes, he sees a pair of
flashlights crisscrossing the hallway outside his bedroom.
Trent and Don enter the bedroom, their flashlights scouring
every bit of the room except for the bed where the unexpected
homeowner is quickly shaking off the last vestiges of
sleepiness. He begins snorting and honking rather indignantly
yet somewhat comically.
GUILLAUME
(in Qubcois French)
[What in bloody hell is the meaning
of this!]
Don stops immediately, turning to the furious little old man
and shining his flashlight directly in the victims face. Don
approaches the bed slowly, his clown mask more terrifying
than ever.
DON
Well, well, well, what have we
here?
Guillaume protests even more aggressively and noisily.
TRENT
(in a loud whisper)
Hey Don!
Don turns his flashlight to Trent, who has swung a towering
seascape painting away from the wall to reveal a giant and
irresistible safe hidden behind it.
Don tilts his head towards Guillaume, indicating that the
unexpected homeowner may be a problem.
TRENT (CONTD)
Don this fuckin safe is a cakewalk,
could probably open this sucker
with harsh language, almost.
Trent gives the lock a spin. Don takes a deep breath and
reluctantly concedes.
Drawing himself up to his full menacing height and shining
his flashlight in Guillames rheumy eyes, Don reaches toward
his victim.
DON
Looks like you and I better be
going now, little man.

4.
Don grabs Guillaume by the ear and practically drags him
kicking and snorting and honking out of bed.
DON (CONTD)
Come come now, lets go for a bit
of a stroll.
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Don forces Guillaume into a kitchen chair, binding his arms
and legs with clipped power cords from various kitchen
appliances. Guillaume continues to protest ineffectually in
Qubcois French, which Don ignores.
Suddenly Guillaume freezes. Seeing the burglar pull numerous
cloths and towels out of drawers in the kitchen, Guillaume
suddenly snaps to the implications of what Dons looking for.
GUILLAUME
[Do not gag me, I have a terrible
cold! My nose, she is a brick of
snot, I have not the power to
breathe through the nose!]
Still ignoring Guillaume, Don finds exactly the cloth hes
looking for. Turning and looking over his shoulder at the
victim bound behind him, Don holds up the cloth and gives it
a little shake.
GUILLAUME (CONTD)
[The combination to the safe, I
will tell it to you- 18 right 23,
25, left 18! Many valuables are
residing inside! Anything, please,
just do not gag me!]
INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT
Trent easily opens the safe. Inside are some jewels, a large
book entitled International Affairs and Interdependent
Affairs which Trent glances at and then throws over his
shoulder
GUILLAME (O.S.)
[Open it, please! Ill tell you
anything!]
Beneath the valuables, Trent finds a box of mysterious VHSlike unmarked film cartridges. Except for one particular
cartridge, marked only with a sinister yellow smiley-face
sticker. He examines it for a beat, fascinated.

5.
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Don begins whistling a jolly tune as he rummages through
another drawer. After searching for a moment, he pulls out a
roll of tape and strolls leisurely over to poor Guillaume.
GUILLAUME
[For the love of God, please do not
gag my mouth!]
In goes the balled-up cloth, and over it several rounds of
tape. Guillaumes screams are muffled through the gag, and
his eyes bug out in desperation.
INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION KITCHEN - EVENING
The North Shore ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY, 32, stands in
the kitchen opening the mail, wearing his signature and
sizable feather-in-the-strap stetson and a three-piece suit
with a golden star-shaped badge on his chest.
Just visible through the cracked bathroom door, his wife
brushes her teeth in a red dress.
The A.D.A. opens an envelope and pulls out an American Dental
Association glossy brochure on the importance of daily oral
hygiene and narrows his eyes in apprehension.
INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - NIGHT
A DOOR SHUTS in another room as Guillaume DuPlessis grows
ever more frantic and desperate. Little bits of mucous exit
his nostrils, and his eyes bug out even more.
He begins hopping up and down in his chair, nudging himself
toward the counter.
INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION KITCHEN - EVENING
The A.D.A. drops the American Dental Association to the floor
as he slips a particularly graphic Polaroid photo out of the
envelope.
His eyes widen with shock and horror as he realizes just what
is depicted in the Polaroid photo.
The A.D.A. then looks toward the bathroom where his wife
brushes her teeth with a pink toothbrush, blissfully unaware.
INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - NIGHT
HONEY!

A.D.A. (O.S.)

6.
Guillaume slams his chair repeatedly into the counter, his
eyes running with streams of tears and his jaw working
furiously to dislodge the gag and his nostrils sucking and
flaring desperately and painfully.
Guillaumes chair falls to the ground. He arches his back
against the chair and screams at length.
CUT TO:
BLACK SCREEN
SFX: GUILLAUMES SCREAM CONTINUES
EXT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION FRONT YARD - AFTERNOON
The A.D.A. exits a police vehicle, wearing his standard suit
+ stetson + badge. Yellow police-line tape surrounds the
mansion. Several cops are posted outside the front door.
The A.D.A. approaches the house slowly, his hands in his
pockets and his stetsons brim casting a shadow over his
face.
Entering the house, the A.D.A. dispassionately approaches the
grisly kitchen scene.
INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - AFTERNOON
Guillaume DuPlessis is frozen in rigor mortis, laying on his
side in a coagulated pool of blood and mucus running from his
nose. Still bound to the chair, his fingers are splayed out
in agony. His eyeballs are threatening to dislodge themselves
completely from his eyesockets.
The A.D.A. stands in the kitchen staring at the corpse, his
face not visible. An officer on the scene begins to brief the
A.D.A.
OFFICER
The security system was shunted
sir, just like a dozen other houses
over the past six months. Were
pretty sure this one wasA.D.A.
You dont have to tell me who it
was.
A camera flashes.
CUT TO:

7.
EXT. YARD - NIGHT
Don jogs lightly and silently back to the getaway car after
yet another burglary, still wearing his signature clown mask.
ON DONS FACE
Don takes off the clown mask, grinning innocently.
FADE OUT.
INT. JANITORIAL CLOSET - NIGHT
SUPER: 8 NOVEMBER YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT
MARIO INCANDENZA, 18, is a menacing figure in the deep
shadows of the janitorial closet. A grotesque and hunched
silhouette, atop his head is an even more menacing Bolex H64
camera that gives him a kind of multi-eyed, alien-facial
look.
A red light blinks slowly on the camera.
In front of Mario is a small puppet set. At Marios
direction, a figure in the darkness turns on the makeshift
stage lights.
A big-headed, elvis-looking puppet, JOHNNY GENTLE, clears its
throat and begins to talk
CUT TO:
INT/EXT. INTERDEPENDENCE DAY FILM
CREDITS SEQUENCE
Here we get to see bits and pieces of Marios Interdependence
Day film, shot on rough film. A sequence of real-life images,
puppet re-enactments and newspaper headlines. Its a highly
stylized and elaborate, if somewhat amateur, re-imagining of
the pseudo-historical events celebrated each year on
Interdependence Day.
SUPER: LET THE CALL GO FORTH, TO PRETTY MUCH ANY NATION WE
MIGHT FEEL LIKE CALLING, THAT THE PAST HAS BEEN TORCHED BY A
NEW AND MILLENNIAL GENERATION OF AMERICANS.
The big-headed Johnny Gentle puppet is surrounded by American
flags and eager supporters at his inaugural ceremony. A
banner behind him reads Lets Shoot Our Wastes Into Space.
Fireworks shoot off behind the sign. Johnny is garbed in fullon glittery Elvis digs. He swings his mic around on its cord
before beginning.

8.
JOHNNY
As President of the United States
of America, I promise to be the
possibly sometimes unpopular
architect of a more or less
Spotless America that Cleans Up Its
Own Side of the Street!
We see a live shot of massive piles of waste buildup and
dirty streets.
JOHNNY (CONTD)
...Not going to stand here and ask
you to make some tough choices...
We see smog over a city
JOHNNY (O.S.) (CONTD)
...standing here promising to make
them for you!
The puppet crowd goes wild.
JOHNNY (CONTD)
...promise an end to atomized
Americans fractious blaming of one
another for our downer-type
internal troubles...
A puppet cabinet meeting with Johnny and the CANADIAN PRIME
MINISTER, among others, seated on one side of a large table.
P.M. CAN
...what is the date I can be
pencilling in for the removals of
NATO ICBM frappeurs from Manitoba?
As Johnny responds, HEADLINES flash across the screen.
SO WHY A NATO? - Editorial Header
MEXICO AND CANADA SIGN ON FOR ORGANIZATION OF NORTH AMERICAN
NATIONS (O.N.A.N.); BUT QUEBEC SEPARATISTS RALLY AGAINST
FINLANDIZATION OF O.N.A.N. ALLIANCE... - Header
JOHNNY
Put that pencil away, you goodlooking Canadian. Ive got more
long shiny trailer-rigs full of
large men with very short haircuts
and white suits than you can shake
a maple leaf at heading for your
silos right this very.

9.
O.N.A.N. PACT PENNED - 24-point Superheader
CANADA NUCKLES UNDER - Tabloidish NY Dailys 24-point
Superheader
JOHNNY (CONTD)
Those complete totalities of
Canadas strategic capacityll be
out of your hair toot sweet.
OVERLOADED WASTE BARGES COLLIDE, CAPSIZE OFF GLOUCESTER Boston Daily Header
GENTLE SPEAKS OUT ON A U.S. CONSTIPATEDLY IMPACTED ON
CONTINENTAL WASTE AT U.N.L.V. COMMENCEMENT - Header
P.M. CAN
John, let me be the first world
leader to call you a statesman.
JOHNNY
We North Americans have to stick
together. Were interdependent.
Were cheek to jowl.
P.M. CAN
It is a smaller world, today.
JOHNNY
And an even smaller continent.
An image of the O.N.A.N. logo: A bald eagle with a sombrero,
clutching a maple leaf in its talons.
An aerial shot of the Statue of Liberty, holding aloft a
giant cheeseburger.
SUPER: YEAR OF THE WHOPPER
Puppet P. TOM VEALS and Johnny Gentle sit at yet another
large table with the same cabinet.
VEALS
...the ad revenue, the marketing
grosses just arent there any more,
they arent.
JOHNNY
Tut tut now there champ, no reason
to sweat the death of cable
advertisingVEALS
-and radio advertising-

10.
JOHNNY
*And* radio advertising and product
placements and print magazinesVEALS
Cable TV and print magazines are
dead in the water. Billboards, bus
ads, sports stadiums, theres
nothing left to subsidize!
JOHNNY
(turning to the camera)
Nothing left to subsidize... but
time itself!
UNPRECEDENTED WHOPPER REVENUES IN THIRD QUARTER CREDITED TO
GENTLES CREATIVELY PRO-ACTIVE RESUSCITATION OF POSTNETWORK ADVERTISING - Ad Week 14-point Header
FREAK STATUE OF LIBERTY ACCIDENT KILLS FED ENGINEER - Header
BRAVE MAN ON CRANE CRUSHED BY 5 TON CAST IRON BURGER - 12point Subheader
The Statue of Libertys giant iron burger is replaced by
package of Tucks Medicated Pads in another aerial shot.
SUPER: YEAR OF THE TUCKS MEDICATED PAD
Yet another puppet cabinet meeting. The Canadian Prime
Minister and the Mexican President, among many others, sit
around the large table.
Johnny Gentle sits at the center, only this time he has a
rather large oxygen mask on his face, with a tube running
beneath the table. His eyes rolled back, Johnny sucks in
oxygen unsteadily and dramatically.
P.M. CAN
Youre looking vigorous and hale
today, Mr. President.
JOHNNY
Hhhuuuuuh, Hhhhaaahh, Hhhuuuhh.
Emerging from the shadows, a dark and sinister figure, MR.
RODNEY TINE, approaches the table and places his hands on it
authoritatively.

11.
TINE
The presidents taking a little
pure oxygen today, boys, and has
authorized me as his oral proxy on
this, may I say, historically
opportune day.
The surrounding officials emit puzzled and apprehensive
noises.
TINE (CONTD)
Im sure youve all been briefed on
the crisis going on just south of
the Northeast Massachusetts border,
the result of our somewhat
premature institution of Annular
Fusion waste management?
P.M. CAN
Annular what?
Walking around the room, Tine reveals images on various
easels surrounding the table. Images of chemical sunrises,
glowing green ponds, shots of giant, multi-eyed mutant
infants, men in haz-mat suits walking past towering barbedwire fences laden with radiation warnings.
TINE
We must act. We must respond. And
we must act and respond decisively.
Swiftly. And decisively.
A geek with large glasses to chimes in at Tines signal.
GEEK
Yes, weve dedicated large swaths
of American soil to Annular Fusion
irradiation and destruction of
waste. Its a necessary evil, and
it this point it cant be undone.
That said, weve come up with some
projections on the costs of
detoxifying the better part of four
U.S. States, and I regret to relate
that the figures were looking at
are almost staggeringly multizeroed, gentlemen.
GENTLE TO CANADIAN PM: HAVE SOME TERRITORY - Header
TINE
Lets pay the president the due
tribute of proceeding right to the
bone of the matter.
(MORE)

12.
TINE (CONT'D)
No way we can possibly permit
territory this befouled and wasteimpacted to continue to besmirch
President Gentles tight and tidier
territory of a new eras U.S. Of A.
JOHNNY
Hhhuuuuuh, Hhhhaaahh, Hhhuuuhh.
CANADIAN P.M. TO GENTLE: NO, REALLY, THANKS ANYWAY - Header
GENTLE TO CANADIAN P.M.: BUT I INSIST - Header
CANADIAN P.M. TO GENTLE: LOOK, WERE ALREADY SWIMMING IN
TERRITORY ALREADY, HAVE A LOOK AT AN ATLAS WHY DONT YOU,
PLUS I DONT MEAN TO BE RUDE BUT WERE ESPECIALLY UNKEEN ON
ACCEPTING HOPELESSLY BEFOULED TERRITORY FROM YOU GUYS,
THERES REALLY JUST NOW WAY - Header
TINE
Were going to give away the whole
benighted smirch of ground.
GEEK
Export it, one might venture to
sally.
The Mexican President and other officials are shown suddenly
with their makeshift eyebrows lifted almost to their
hairlines in surprise and shock.
Tine places a large map of North American on an easel- the US
in sterile white, Mexico in pink, but Canada a garish,
meancing red.
GENTLE TO P.M.: LOOK, BABE, TAKE THE TERRITORY OR YOURE
GOING TO BE REALLY REALLY SORRY - Header
Over the traditional map, Tine places a proposed
reconfiguration of the Canadian-US border, one in which an
enormous chunk of New York state now colored red instead of
white.
SECRETARY OF STATE
Quebec wont like this one bit.
MEXICAN PRESIDENT
(nervously)
May I ask President Gentle how you
are proposing to ask the honorable
Prime Minister of Canada to
possibly be able to accept vast
swaths of egregiously poisoned
terrain on behalf of his people?

13.
GENTLE HAS COMPLETELY LOST MIND, THREATENS TO DETONATE UPSIDEDOWN MISSILES IN U.S. SILOS, IRRADIATE CANADA WITH AID OF
ATHSCME HELL-FANS - Header
WILLING TO ELIMINATE OWN MAP OUT OF SHEER PIQUE IF CANADA
REFUSES RECONFIGURATIVE TRANSFER OF AESTHETICALLY UNPLEASING TERRAIN - Subheader
TINE
Valid question. Simple answer.
Three answers. Statesmansip.
Gamesmanship.
(counting on fingers)
Brinksmanship.
SUPER: FIN
INT. JANITORIAL CLOSET - NIGHT
The silhouette of HAL INCANDENZA, 16, lifts a black card with
the text FIN from in front of the camera lens.
Once again in the janitorial closet, Mario stands facing his
Bolex H64 camera from behind the puppet stage. On each of his
shrunken, dinosaurian arms is a puppet of Tine and Johnny.
The stage lights turn off. Only the glow of the camera and
Marios disfigured and grotesque silhouette remain in the
shadows of the closet.
SUPER: INFINITE JEST: A FAILED ENTERTAINMENT
EXT. COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - DAWN
A football player kicks a football into the distance, lofted
over a line of autosprinklers difracting glittering golden
and silver flecks in the radiant sunrise.
SUPER: 19 AUGUST YEAR OF THE TUCKS MEDICATED PAD
CHAPTER I: JOELLE VAN DYNE
On the other side of the sprinklers, JOELLE VAN DYNE, 20, is
hoisted aloft the other female members of the Pep Squad as
the University of Arizona football team practices in the
desert dawn.
She is green-eyed, red-gold haired, freckled and pale, but
more importantly, cripplingly and agonizingly beautiful. She
watches the players and practices Pep Squad routines with
high energy but passive disinterest in the athletic
proceedings. Around her, the other members of the pep squad
seem faceless and expendable, but far more invested than she.

14.
In the thick of the brutal practice routines, ORIN
INCANDENZA, 21, is getting slaughtered, beat to bits, ruined,
and humiliated. Knocked to the ground by yet another faceless
athlete twice his size, Orin gazes longingly through the
sprinklers at the red-headed angel in the distance.
COACH
Get up, you god damned dragass!
Orin gets up, catches a football hurled his way, and tries to
take on a line of defensive players yet again, only to be
this time hurled into the air and slammed on his back, the
blinding sun above murdering his eyes as he coughs
helplessly.
FACELESS ATHLETE #1 (O.S.)
Little fucking mollygag.
FACELESS ATHLETE #2
...bona-fried pussy.
Orin pulls himself to his feet, only to be shouldered
brutally in the chest and launched to the ground yet again in
yet another attempt at a practice exercise.
The COACH, 38, finally grabs Orins facemask and points to
the mouth of the fields southern tunnel.
COACH
...Seem to have some kind of empty
swinging god damn sack where your
balls ought to be, little twat.
Orin takes his football mask off and kicks it in defeat and
finality as he walks with his head down towards the edge of
the field as the coach continues to humiliate him from the
distance.
COACH (CONTD)
If you want to keep your
scholarship, little Orin, you ought
to stick to minor-type sports where
what you hit doesnt up and hit you
back...
Orin doesnt even protest. His uniform is torn and covered in
dirt.
Orins walk to the stadium exit is agonizing and slow. He
grits his teeth and sighs heavily, knowing he should never
have even tried for the football team.
Orin kicks the grass ineffectually, ripping up a small clod.

15.
In the far distance, Joelle watches Orin leave with a twinge
of empathy. She pauses in the midst of the routine as the
other Pep Squad members continue.
Just as Orin slips into the long shadow cast by the stadium
exit, a stray football soars aimlessly through the air and
plops with a thud, skitters across the grass, and comes to a
stop not ten feet from Orins exit trajectory.
Orin stops in his tracks, looking down at the fateful ball.
Turning, the coach beckons impatiently for Orin to throw the
ball back.
Orin picks up the ball with a deep sigh and cocks his arm as
though to throw it, but checks himself, unsure. He bounces it
a couple times in his hand, knowing that he cant throw it.
Joelle turns one last time toward the field and, seeing what
is about to happen in the far distance, pauses curiously.
Orin takes two or three unpracticed steps/trots, drops the
ball from an unpracticed hand, and somehow unleashes a
perfect punt.
Orins jaw drops as the football carves a perfect arc far
over the heads of both the distant practicing football team
as well as the distant and inaccessible pep squad.
Needless to say, everyone elses jaws drop in perfect unison
as well.
Including Joelle, her lips parted just an inch in awe and
unable to remove her eyes from Orin.
After a beat, the coach finally uproots himself and begins
staggering towards an equally shellshocked Orin Incandenza.
The coach spreads his arms in welcome with a reconciliatory
smile.
CUT TO:
EXT. COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON
An Orin Incandenza, now fully-armed in shiny, colorful U of A
uniform, approaches the ball and lofts it skyward.
Just in front of him, a dozen angry and monstrous linemen
clash and beat the shit out of each other, but Orin stands
far behind, safe from any sort of harm or physical contact.
But in the distance, the crowd is rapturous as the ball
climbs ever heavenward, its arc angelic and serene, the cries
of the crowd elated and thunderous far beneath.

16.
EXT. ANOTHER AND ANOTHER COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON
Again and again, Orin launches the ball skyward, doing
nothing but kicking perfectly and driving crowds into foaming
frenzies all over the collegiate United States.
EXT. U OF A FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON
Back in his home stadium, Orin kicks one more for the team.
The ball, as usual, arcs high over teams and crowds alike,
but this time carves a path directly into the sousaphone of a
rather corpulent and focused SOUSAPHONE PLAYER, 22, on the
fringes of the playing field. The rest of the band music
continues to play on, naturally, and the crowd continues its
insane roar.
Joelle Van Dyne, however, muscles her way through the
frenzied audience toward the hapless sousaphone player as he
unmounts his instrument and process to attempt to dislodge
the ball.
The sousaphone player is bent over his part of his butt crack
emerging between his uniform pants and shirt when Joelle
addresses him.
Joelles voice isnt that simpering, come-hither type youd
expect from the prettiest girl of all time- its a barelyconcealed Kentucky-inflected drawl. The more she talks, the
more you can tell shes trained herself over the years to
conceal it, but you can tell its there no matter how hard
she tries.
JOELLE
Pardon me sir, may I...
Turning to face Joelle, with sweat pouring in beads down his
swollen, red face, the sousaphone players eyes widen with
shock and he tumbles right onto his back.
The sousaphone, however, falls with its mouth pointed towards
the angelic Joelle, and out rolls a punctured and brutalized
football, punted mightily by none other than Orin Incandenza.
Joelle politely reaches down to pick it up, her torment of
the enraptured sousaphone player purely inadvertent, Joelle
being innocent of any sort of manipulative intent.
JOELLE (CONTD)
You wouldnt mind if I kept this,
would you? You see, my daddy is the
biggest fan of Orin in the whole
world...

17.
The sousaphone player hoists himself off the ground and
cleans himself up a bit, finally becoming self-aware.
SOUSAPHONE PLAYER
Thatd be fine, I, gee, sure can
have that, my pleasure if youd...
JOELLE
Thank you ever so much.
She smiles a smile the tuba player will never forget and
vanishes into the crowd.
INT. U OF A AUDITORIUM - NIGHT
At a Columbus Day Major Sport social function, dozens of U of
A students mill about a cheaply collegiate-decorated
auditorium with streamers and punch bowls and U of A
paraphernalia and so forth.
Joelle Van Dyne wanders through the crowd by herself, looking
through the audience for something. In both hands, Joelle
clutches the deflated, torn football.
The U of A QUARTERBACK, rather dashing and exuding alpha-male
status from every pore, makes his approach. Meeting her eye,
though, he manages to produce the same quality and longevity
of conversation as the earlier sousaphone player.
QUARTERBACK
I, uh, hey, I better go that way.
The quarterback quails as their eyes meet, then points in the
distance and books it away post-haste. Joelle at first
pauses, returning eye contact pleasantly.
Alright.

JOELLE

She smiles politely but somewhat distractedly, and continues


on her search trajectory.
Nearby, Orin Incandenza and MARLON BAIN, 21, talk in
excitedly hushed voices over bottles of beer.
ORIN
You saw her here? Where?
MARLON
Shes here buddy, but listen, you
know shes all the way up here,
right? Shes out of anybodys
league.

18.
ORIN
I know that I know that.
MARLON
You know what they call her?
ORIN
Whats that?
MARLON
The PGOAT dude. The Prettiest Girl
of All Time. Thats the kind of
girl that you cant just approachshes probably waiting some cleftchinned male-model-looking business
man to telephone her from the back
seat of his green stretch InfinitiSure, but-

ORIN

MARLON
She probablySomeone too beautiful for words clears her throat behind
them.
Pardon me-

JOELLE (O.S.)

ORIN
What do youTurning to face Joelle, Orin is somewhat taken aback, but
somehow manages to hold his ground.
JOELLE
Youre Orin Incandenza, right?
I am-

ORIN

JOELLE
You wouldnt wanna sign this for me
would you? My daddy is the biggest
fan of yours in the whole wide
world, and hed just beORIN
This football is absolutely torn to
bits though, there has to be some
other- where did you get this?

19.
JOELLE
Found it. Just like I found you.
I...

ORIN

JOELLE
Thank you so muchOrin signs the football, fumbling.
JOELLE (CONTD)
Youve always been such an athlete?
ORIN
I suppose...
JOELLE
You suppose?
ORIN
I dont believe its all athletic,
really, puntings pull for me, you
know?
Oh yeah?

JOELLE

ORIN
Well no, a lot of it seems
emotional, even, if theres such a
thing anymore, spiritual, like, a
denial of silence, 30,000 voices,
souls, voicing approval as one
soul.
Joelle begins to study Orins eyes with increasing curiosity
as he waxes eloquent, his nervous glances away growing less
and less frequent.
ORIN (CONTD)
Just like mass exhortations and
approval so total they cease to be
numerically distinct and meld into
a sort of single coital moan, one
big vowel, the sound of the womb,
the roar gathering, tidal,
amniotic, the voice of what might
as well be God.
Orin pauses for a beat, their eyes now totally locked.
ORIN (CONTD)
If that makes any sense.

20.
INT. ORINS DORM - AFTERNOON
Joelle finishes forming a pile of cocaine into a perfect
line.
Come on!

ORIN (O.S.)

Joelle hunches over the desk.


Hold on!

JOELLE

She ingests the cocaine, carefree.


Jesus.

JOELLE (CONTD)

Running out the front door, she grabs Orins hand, two young
lovers in jackets and scarves, disappearing into the blue
overcast sky and piled leaves.
INT. MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT
Orin and Joelle watch some sort of noisy corporate
blockbuster. Joelle is loving it, bouncing up and down in her
seat excitedly. Orin watches her more than the movie, trying
to keep his arm around her as much as possible. Joelle spills
the popcorn.
In the lobby post-film lobby, we catch the tail end of a
phone call with Marlon Bain.
ORIN
...I think Im officially in love
dude...
MARLON (O.S.)
Noooo way! This is awesomeJoelle dashes out of the ladies room and interrupts his
phone call affectionately and steals his hand.
EXT. U OF A FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON
A hand plants the football firmly on the field. Orin stands
back, focusing elsewhere as the rest of the team forms up.
On the sidelines, Joelle hefts a Bolex R32, complete with an
array of interchangeable lenses and BTL meters. She has only
one football player in her shot.
Joelle is dressed in darker colors, wearing a pair of thickrimmed glasses and little in the way of makeup.

21.
Orin punts the ball skyward. Joelles fascination is half
idolation of Orin, half the drive to push herself technically
as she experiments with various lenses, focal lengths and so
on.
INT. ORINS CAR - LATE AFTERNOON
Joelle does a line of cocaine of the dashboard of the car.
JOELLE
Im nervous.
ORIN
I mean, dont be. My father is
going to absolutely love you.
Really?

JOELLE

Orins car begins climbing an incredibly steep hill. At the


top is the Enfield Tennis Academy, an array of bulging
buildings surrounding a number of tennis courts in the
center.
Orins car pulls to a stop at the Headmasters House.
Yeah sure.

ORIN

Orin leans in and pecks Joelle on the cheek.


ORIN (CONTD)
Im sure he wont be able to resist
using you in one of his films.
Hell absolutely love you.
Joelle frowns at him as he begins to leave the car,
concerned.
INT. HEADMASTERS HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON
Orin emerges first and then Joelle half a second later into
the dining room.
Seated at the table before them are the Incandenza Family
Members- Hal Incandenza, 11, seated next to a friend of his,
MIKE PEMULIS, 11. Both clutch and open their hands
impulsively, almost in rhythm.
Mario Incandenza, shockingly mutated and dwarfen, his head
bulging to at least twice the proportional size, his eyes
asymmetrical and his eyelids half shut, his dinosaurian
shrunken arms clutched at his chest, and so on.

22.
But his implacable grin is disarming and adorable despite his
grotesque overbite.
AVRIL INCANDENZA, 43, swoops in front of the couple out of
nowhere to welcome them whilst balancing a plate of food.
Shes the tallest woman youve ever met, and also strikingly
attractive in her own way. Her smiles and friendliness to
Joelle are gratingly fake in a way Joelle cant quite put her
finger on.
Mario clumsily takes a seat.
DR. JAMES ORIN INCANDENZA, JR, 53, sits, hunched and storklike, at the end of the table. He is six-foot-ten, with both
long arms resting on the table. As Orin and Joelle enter, he
places a hat on the table but doesnt take off his trench
coat. He doesnt make eye contact with either of them.
AVRIL
Joelle, my dear, its so nice to
have you.
ORIN
This is the moms, JoelleAVRIL
Please do call me Avril, Joelle.
Please, make yourself at home.
Youre one of the family tonight.
The conversation swirls at the table. Joelle is lost in a
pleasant storm of intra-familial Incandenza quirks.
AVRIL (CONTD)
(to Mario)
How was your day honey?
MARIO
It was great. Everything was great
today.
Hals friend belches. No one reacts except for Joelle.
AVRIL
(to Orin)
And yours dear? Im sure it was
absolutely splendid.
ORIN
Well, Joelle and IPEMULIS
Do Carl Sagan, Orin!

23.
Orin clears his throat and begins to intimidate Carl Sagan,
repeating billions and billions and billions ad nauseam.
AVRIL
Joelle, dear, do tell us where
youre from.
JOELLE
Well Im from in little town in
Kentucky called Shiny Prize, my
daddys a pH chemist there in town.
AVRIL
What brought you all the way to
Arizona?
ORIN
Shes a Film/Cartridge Studies
major. Shes a genius.
Orin directs this at his father more than his mother. James
grunts, still not making eye contact. Avril smiles and
remarks that thats incredible.
HAL
(loud)
The basic unit of luminous
intensity is the Candela, exactly
1/600,000 of a square meter of a
cavity at the freezing-temperature
of platinum.
James rises, seeming to grow forever as he gets out of his
chair, and disappears into the kitchen.
AVRIL
Yes honey, thats perfect.
HAL
Arent you going to ask me the
freezing-temperature of platinum?
AVRIL
Honey, we know you know the
freezing point of platinum. Now
Joelle, by all means, dont you
hesitate to make a Thanksgiving
call to your family back home if
you wish.
Thank you.

JOELLE

24.
James returns, shrinking back into his chair. Not touching
the rest of his food, he begins to distractedly and
meticulously mold his mashed potatoes into a sort of cityscape.
AVRIL
James, honey, couldnt you find a
way to include Joelle in your next
production? After all, shes both a
film student and now a heartily
welcome honorary addition to our
family unit.
James, looking up, shields his eyes from the UV lighting
above in a way that almost resembles a strange salute.
JAMES
Alright dear.
AVRIL
Joelle, what are you studying at
the moment?
JOELLE
Right now the theories and works of
Andr Bazin, heJames makes a tormented face at the name.
JAMES
Andr Bazin was an idiot.
JOELLE
I never thought so.
JAMES
An idiot with a blatant disregard
for more than half the equation of
technological and artistic
expression, Bazin disparagedJOELLE
I always saw that tendency, if I
may say, that disparagement of the
self-conscious filmmaker, Dr.
Incandenza, and correct me if Im
mistaken, but I saw that disdain as
connected, historically, to the neoThomist Realism of the
Personalistes, though perhaps
grating, they were an aesthetic
school of great influence over
French Catholic intellectuals circa
1930-1940-

25.
Across the table, Hal and Avril engage each other on the
nature and correct application of the word circa to
describe an interval or a specific year.
Joelle and Avril make challenging eye contact in the midst of
this interchange, but Joelle focuses on the discussion with
James.
JAMES
(leaning in)
Well put, I must say. Perhaps his
arguments are invalid in more ways
than I care to express here and his
pretentiousness grating, I will say
I found that schoolMeanwhile, Orin has resumed his Carl Sagan impression.
Little Mario interrupts James and just about everyone else by
planting his fork firmly in Jamess potato city-scape and
destroys it.
Everyone finds this hilarious and Mario has the biggest,
happiest grin on his face.
Avril pushes her champagne glasses away, unfinished.
AVRIL
(in a mock Scarlett
OHara accent)
I do declare, this Albertan
champagne always gives me the
vapors.
Mario thinks this is the funniest thing anyone has ever said
and just laughs his head off, smiling affectionately at the
moms. The rest of the table laughs politely.
Everyone takes this as the cue to end the meal. James
silently rises from the table, receding into the shadows
beyond the dining room. Avril glances at him as he departs,
her smile unbroken, then glances back to the table.
AVRIL (CONTD)
Now before dessert is served, Id
ask if perhaps we could all join
hands secularly for a moment and
simply be grateful for all being
together.
The family begins joining hands. Joelle looks to her right,
where James was, looks around the room searching, then looks
to the empty doorway through which he disappeared.

26.
Across James seat, Joelle leans over and takes Pemulis
hand. On her left, she holds Orins hand.
Everyone else closes their eyes. Joelle opens her eyes, half
glaring, half staring at Avril partially in fear, partially
in disdain.
INT. ORINS DORM - NIGHT
Orin and Joelle sit close on the cheap dorm couch in the glow
of the TV. An expertly made little video of Orin punting
comes to an end.
JOELLE
You really liked it?
ORIN
It was beautiful. I absolutely
liked it.
Im glad.

JOELLE

ORIN
I told you hed love you. I told
you he wouldnt be able to resist
using you.
JOELLE
Im so fucking nervous. Do I have
to go?
ORIN
Yes you have to go! His films are
straight up your alley. Youre a
film student. How could you even
not want to go?
JOELLE
But I cant even act. And hes your
dad.
ORIN
Yes you can, and, this is perfect.
Now quit fussing and get outta
here, kiddo.
Joelle disentangles herself from Orin. Orin playfully gives
her a shove.
Joelle prepares herself to go in the bathroom, straightening
her hair, washing her face. She pauses in the midst of
preparations, staring at herself, wondering what shes about
to get herself into.

27.
Emerging back into the dorm, she walks behind Orin to exit
the room. Orin begins to talk.
JOELLE
(playfully)
Shut the fuck up, asshole.
She disappears out the door.
EXT/INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
Its a dark, cold and drizzly night. A scattered array of
glowing moonlight clouds dot the sky.
Joelle gets out of her car and approaches an old warehouse.
She enters through a heavy steel back door.
She enters a freight elevator with a flickering light and
stumbles as it begins to elevate with clanking chains and
grinding metal.
At last arriving at the top, the heavy door begins to open
outward.
INT. ORINS DORM - NIGHT
Back at the dorm, Orin rewinds the video, now alone in his
dorm.
Orin cant take his eyes off the footage of himself. His jaw
slacks just a touch. Orin mouths wow, or something similar.
Completely enthralled by the footage of himself, beneath his
sweatpants, an erection is just barely but undeniably
bulging.
INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
On the other side of the freight elevator door, two
silhouetted figures await her arrival: James Orin Incandenza,
infinitely tall and ominous in his hat, dwarfing the twisted
little Mario Incandenza, with his Bolex H64 once again
mounted atop his head, leaning against a police lock that
barely props his 45-degree-leaning figure.
Water drips in the background. The ceiling is leaky.
James takes half a step forward as Joelle emerges against her
better judgement with a deep breath from the elevator.
SLOW FADE OUT

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