REDEEMING FAT BASTARD

by

Chris Gilman

chrismgilman@gmail.com
MIKE MYERS’S voiceover accompanies the following TEXT:

The program you are about see contains outdated cultural

depictions of grotesque, overweight Scotsmen. Fat Bastard is a
product of his time, and embodies prejudices that were once
commonplace in America. While his depiction does not represent
our network’s views of Scottish society today, this program is
being presented as it was originally created, because to do
otherwise would be the same as claiming that prejudices against
Scotch cannibals who weigh 1 metric ton never existed.

MUSIC CUE OVER BLACK: dissonant, symphonic bagpipes.

INT. LABORATORY - NIGHT - BLACK & WHITE

Endless rows of GLASS TANKS bubble with amniotic fluids. Their

pale glow illuminates the otherwise dark, warehouse lab.

Suspended in the tanks——MINI-ME CLONES. Many half-developed.

MINI-ME HIMSELF peaks out from behind a tank. He’s terrified.

SCOTTISH VOICE (O.S.)

(distant, echoing)
I want my baby-back-baby-back-
baby-back-baby-back ribs...

Mini-Me gasps. He makes a run for it through the maze of tanks.

As he runs, an ELECTRIC MOTOR GROWS LOUDER. It’s closing in

fast. From where? No way to tell in the reverberating lab.

Mini-Me looks behind——nothing. His right——nothing. His left——

A RASCAL SCOOTER’S HEADLIGHT FLASHES ON.

MINI-ME
EEE!!!

The collision’s impact HURLS MINI-ME INTO A LOCKER, DENTING IT.

He bounces to the floor and scrambles to his feet just as——

A SHADOW ECLIPSES HIM. Mini-Me freezes in horror.

The shadow belongs to...FAT BASTARD, IN ALL HIS ENORMITY (he

fits on the rascal scooter like a gorilla riding a dachshund).

FAT BASTARD
(sadistic)
Hello, hello, wee baby...

Fat Bastard REVS THE SCOOTER. He smirks, savoring the moment.

 2.

Mini-Me cowers back, pleading. He offers a PEACE SIGN.

Fat Bastard releases the brake. HE ROCKETS FORWARD.

MINI-ME
EEEEEEEE!!!!!!

We hear a GORY CRUNCH just as we SMASH CUT TO BLACK.

SECURITY ALARM
(over P.A. system)
INTRUDER ALERT. INTRUDER ALERT.

We hear RAVENOUS, WET CHEWING.

FADE IN:

PAN OVER: glass shards and fluids. A SMALL ARM BONE is tossed
from out of frame, landing among the debris.

PAN UP: Fat Bastard, his back to us, kneels before a PILE OF
MINI-ME CORPSES. He’s feasting.

The lab doors slam open——A S.W.A.T. UNIT floods in, guns drawn.

S.W.A.T. CAPTAIN
HANDS UP! NOW!

FAT BASTARD
(glancing back, mouth full)
Buffet’s closed, boys...all out of
short ribs. HAHAHA!

The Captain sees the corpses and vomits in his face shield.

Fat Bastard LAUGHS MANIACALLY. Bits of flesh fly from his maw.

MONTAGE:

-Fat Bastard’s wrists are handcuffed.

-His BARE TITTIES are also cuffed.
-His fingerprints are taken.
-A jockstrap with a CROSS-SHAPED SKIDMARK is slid into a bag
marked ‘EVIDENCE’.

EXT. COURTHOUSE - DAY

-Fat Bastard, MUZZLED and STRAIGHT-JACKETED, is strapped to a

FORKLIFT. He’s circled by an ANGRY MOB outside the courthouse.

TOM BROKAW reports from outside the chaotic crowd.

 3.

TOM BROKAW
This just in: a verdict has been
reached in the trial of the child
cannibal known as Fat Bastard. The
former henchman faces numerous
counts of infanticide, after the
DNA profiles of 74 missing
children from around the globe
were discovered in soiled
jockstraps obtained from Fat
Bastard’s motor-home.

Police struggle to control the enraged mob who hurl obscenities

and rocks at Fat Bastard. He yawns, totally indifferent, until
a rock nails him in the crotch. Vomit sprays from his muzzle.

WOMAN #1
HE ATE MY BABY! HE ATE MY FUCKING
BABY!

WOMAN #2
ROT IN HELL, YOU MONSTER!

On the courthouse steps, TRIBUTES TO MISSING CHILDREN: vigil

candles, flowers, framed photos of babies.

INT. COURT ROOM - DAY

-A JUDGE addresses Fat Bastard and his lawyer, ALAN DERSHOWITZ.

JUDGE
The court finds you...guilty.

The gavel slams. The courtroom explodes in cheer.

Fat Bastard is devastated. Dershowitz places a hand on his

shoulder. His other hand fondles one of Fat Bastard’s titties.

MUSIC CUE: the score from Schindler’s List.

FAT BASTARD
I could’ve eaten more...I could’ve
eaten one more...

ALAN DERSHOWITZ
No, Fat Bastard. You mustn’t think
that way. Dozens of babies were
eaten alive, thanks to you.

FAT BASTARD
If I made more room in my belly...
 4.

ALAN DERSHOWITZ
Thousands of generations have
ended, because of what you did.
You ate enough. You ate enough.

FAT BASTARD
I could’ve eaten more!

Fat Bastard sobs uncontrollably.

SMASH CUT TO TITLE CARD: REDEEMING FAT BASTARD

TEXT: Chapter 1

EXT. TURDHAM ASYLUM - DESERT - MORNING - NOW COLOR

FOOTAGE

TEXT: Decades Later...

A PRISON COMPOUND in wasteland desert, guarded by watchtowers,

barbed wire, and armed security.

A tall main building towers over four lower wings that form a
closed-in prison yard (the complex is shaped like a TOILET).

Vultures perch on an entrance sign: TURDHAM ASYLUM: A FEDERAL

PENITENTIARY FOR THE FAT AND/OR INSANE

INT. TURDHAM ASYLUM - CRYOGENIC STORAGE UNIT

TEXT: Turdham Asylum: Cryogenic Storage Unit

Fat Bastard is FROZEN NUDE IN A BLOCK OF ICE (a call back to

Austin Powers in ‘International Man Of Mystery’).

A RED LIGHT FLASHES above Fat Bastard’s ice block. Two metal
arms on the sides of the block UNCLASP.

JUMP TO: Bastard is submerged into a VAT OF STEAMING GOO.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Thawing stage in process.

THE WARDEN (Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson) nods to a squad of ARMED

GUARDS, who raise their guns in unison.

THE WARDEN
He makes any sudden moves, you
have my authorization to shoot. We
take no chances with this one.

THE GOO BUBBLES AND HISSES. The Warden paces as he leafs

through a thick binder: Fat Bastard’s record.
 5.

THE WARDEN
During his last stay in solitary,
he stuck his ass up to the slot
where they’d put his food trays.
Sprayed a guard with diarrhea so
hot, burned his face off to the
bone. Been down here ever since.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Thawing complete.

THE WARDEN
Serving his sentence in ice, with
the worst of the worst. Where the
rest of us are safe from them.

The Warden turns to a row of ice blocks containing: Suge

Knight, Larry Nassar, Oscar Pistorius, Freddy Krueger, Anton
Chigurh, Lenny from ‘Of Mice and Men’, etc.

Fat Bastard RISES FROM THE VAT on an industrial strainer. He

BURPS UP A LOAD OF GOO, GASPING FOR AIR.

INT. EXAMINATION AREA

Technicians lead a disoriented Fat Bastard behind a frosted

glass partition, which obscures his genitals.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Cleansing stage in process.

Hot-water jets rinse the goo off him. ROBOTIC ARMS lift his
titties and over-hanging front-butt to wash under them.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Cleansing complete.

He’s then led to a screened-off toilet area.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Evacuation stage in process.

We hear a DEAFENING BOUT OF DIARRHEA blast into the toilet.

This continues for a while...and then a while longer still.

The stream trickles to a STOP. Bastard emits a STRAINED GRUNT.

The Warden moves for his holstered gun.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Evacuation com-

WITH A POP, A FULLY INTACT MINI-ME SKELETON LAUNCHES OUT OF

BASTARD’S ASS. The diarrhea begins again, even stronger.
 6.

The skeleton bounces off the wall and slides to Warden’s feet.

THE WARDEN
My god.

The toilet OVERFLOWS as the diarrhea stops once more.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Evacuation com-

The diarrhea starts again. It stops.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Evacuation com-

A few staccato bursts of diarrhea. It stops again. LONG BEAT.

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
...Evacuation compl-

The diarrhea starts again. The Warden and guards look sick.

INT. TURDHAM MEDICAL EXAMINATION ROOM

A sterile white hospital room, empty aside from Fat Bastard in

a hospital bed, a BIG MIRROR, and THE DOCTOR (Tilda Swinton).

LOUDSPEAKER (O.S.)
Psych evaluation in process.

THE DOCTOR
Welcome back, Fat Bastard. Your
excretory system appears to be in
working order, though your
cognitive faculties may feel a bit
clouded. Standard reaction, not to
fret. The fog will lift.

Shielding his eyes from the fluorescent lights, he realizes his

hands are cuffed. His tits too. He ogles them in the mirror.

FAT BASTARD
(weakly)
Bring me back to the toilet, love?

THE DOCTOR
You have...more diarrhea?

FAT BASTARD
I’d like to pound off. My titties,
they’re perfectly preserved.

THE DOCTOR
Hmm. You may ‘pound off’ later.
 7.

Doctor jots a note on her clipboard.

THE DOCTOR
Let’s jog your memory a bit. Helps
the gears start turning again.
Your file says you grew up in
Glasgow, correct? Can you recall
anything from that period?

Fat Bastard winces, bad memories flood back to him...

FAT BASTARD
I remember everything. Especially
the pain.

CUT TO BLACK

EXT. GLASGOW SUBURBS - NIGHT

On the doorstep of a rundown duplex, a BABY SWADDLED IN A KILT.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

My parents abandoned me before I’d
filled my first diaper with crap.

LADY BODYBUILDER (RONDA ROUSEY) opens the door. She looks down.

A note pinned to the swaddling: “SHITS TOO MUCH.”

LADY BODYBUILDER
Кто меня обременял этой свиньей?

Bushy red eyebrows and sideburns——this is undeniably BABY FAT

BASTARD. He rubs his baby nipples and scowls.

FADE FORWARD...

INT. GLASGOW HOME - DINING ROOM - EVENING

Young Fat Bastard (now 11) eats dinner alongside LADY

BODYBUILDER, MAN BODYBUILDER (Dolph Lundgren), and CHILD
BODYBUILDER (Iain Armitage).

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

I grew up in a reverse Harry
Potter situation. See, I was the
obese one, and my relatives had
0.01% body fat. I guess my titties
served as my lightning scar, as
in, a signature physical
identifier? I don’t know...
 8.

Young Fat Bastard pouts at his dinner: a whole eggplant and a

tin of cat food. The Bodybuilder family eats steaks.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

I never fit in growing up. Deep
down, I always knew I was...well,
different. On my 11th birthday, I
found out why.

Under the table, he covertly picks at a BIG TURKEY LEG adorned

with two lit birthday candles: “11”.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

(melancholy)
Happy 11th Birthday, big guy...

He silently makes a wish. Before he can blow the candles out——

MAN BODYBUILDER FLIPS THE TABLE. He points at the turkey leg.

MAN BODYBUILDER
(to Young Fat Bastard)
ОБМАН! ВЫ ПЛАТИТЕ ЦЕНУ!!!!!!

Man Bodybuilder nods to Child Bodybuilder.

CHILD BODYBUILDER
(to Young Fat Bastard)
ВЕРНУТЬСЯ В СВОЮ НОРУ, СОБАКА!

Child Bodybuilder LASHES A BULLWHIP at Young Bastard, knocking

the turkey leg out of his hands.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

AGH!!!!! Fuck you!

Young Bastard farts and wafts it at them. Child Bodybuilder

cracks the whip at him again and chases him out of the room.

INT. FOYER - CONT.

Young Bastard dashes into a SMALL ROOM UNDER THE STAIRS.

INT. YOUNG BASTARD’S BEDROOM - CONT.

This is his paltry BEDROOM. He barely fits. There is no bed.

Just a TOILET, a KOOL & THE GANG POSTER, a STACK OF PORN.

Young Bastard puts a pillow on the toilet’s water basin and

pulls a blanket over himself. He prays:

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

Dear God. Please kill my family——
 9.

Suddenly, Young Bastard’s nose twitches. He takes a few quick

sniffs, and is promptly overwhelmed by a revolting odor.

INT. FOYER - CONT.

An ENVELOPE enters the mail slot and lands with a SQUISH.

Man Bodybuilder picks up the envelope. It’s sealed shut with a

BROWN SMUDGE. Flies hover over it. He reels back in disgust.

It’s from: the Shartsworth Academy Of Bastardry And Diarrhea.

Man Bodybuilder marches to the fireplace and throws it in.

Young Fat Bastard appears behind him.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

AYE! That better not have been the
nipple clamps I ordered——

MAN BODYBUILDER
ВЕРНУТЬСЯ В КРЫСИЕ ГНЕЗДО!!!

Child Bodybuilder (whip in hand) chases Young Bastard back into

his room. The Bodybuilders all begin doing push-ups together.

INT. YOUNG BASTARD’S BEDROOM - CONT.

Young Bastard growls and re-perches on the toilet.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

(to Bodybuilders)
You’re lucky I had to crap anyway!

He squeezes angrily, straining through a few farts, until——

ANOTHER ENVELOPE ROCKETS out of the toilet between his legs.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

What the——

DOZENS MORE LETTERS FLY OUT OF THE TOILET. The house shakes.

INT. FOYER

The mail slot FLOODS with letters. The Bodybuilders panic.

Young Bastard stumbles out of his room, pulling up his kilt

around his ankles, A TURD DANGLING FROM HIS ASS.

The letters STOP as suddenly as they began. Eerie silence.

 10.

Suddenly, 3 LOUD KNOCKS AT THE DOOR. LIGHTING FLASHES OUTSIDE.

Child Bodybuilder goes to open it, but it SLAMS OPEN FIRST. The
door CRACKS him in the head and knocks him unconscious.

At the door is HAGRID THE GIANT FROM ‘HARRY POTTER.’ He enters,

surveying the room, eventually locking eyes with Young Bastard.

HAGRID
So the stories are true.

Hagrid marvels at Young Bastard’s tits. He honks one. Squish.

HAGRID
You got your mum and dad’s tits.

Hagrid kneels down and FLICKS the turd dangling under Young
Bastard’s kilt. It pendulates side-to-side, but doesn’t fall.

HAGRID
The rectal control. The
sphincteral dexterity. Remarkable.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

You know my parents?

Hagrid wipes his finger on his pants. He squints at Bastard.

HAGRID
Actually, No. I was thinking of
orangutans I saw on TV. Sorry.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

Oh. That’s okay.

HAGRID
Name’s Hagrid. I’m a groundskeeper
at a school for wizards. On summer
breaks, I supplement my income
working for the Shartsworth
Academy Of Bastardry And Diarrhea.
It’s a cross between a fat camp
and a terrorist training camp:
large children go there to become
dangerous. What am I saying? You
must know all about Shartsworth.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

No. I don’t.

HAGRID
No? Blimey, didn’t you ever wonder
why you have perfect tits and
Fukashima bowel movements?
 11.

Hagrid leans forward.

HAGRID
You’re a Bastard, fatty.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

I’m a...Bastard?

Young Bastard glows. His dangling turd wags like a dog tail.

EXT. GLASGOW HOME - NIGHT

Young Bastard sits in the sidecar of HAGRID’S MOTORCYCLE.

He takes one last look at The Bodybuilders. From the doorstep,
they flip him off and go inside. Young Bastard seethes.

YOUNG FAT BASTARD

(to Hagrid)
Hold on. One last thing.

JUMP CUT TO:

A HOSE CONNECTS THE MOTORCYCLE’S TAILPIPE AND LEADS INTO THE

MAIL SLOT.

Young Bastard REVS THE MOTORCYCLE ENGINE in neutral.

INT. GLASGOW HOME - CONT.

CLOSE-UP: the hose pours carbon monoxide through the mail slot.

The Bodybuilders do push-ups together. Their reps gradually

slow down. Slower. Slower, still, until they come to a full
stop, and lay on the ground, motionless. DEAD.

EXT. STARRY GLASGOW SKY - NIGHT

Hagrid’s motorcycle soars triumphantly through the night sky,

across the moon and the stars.

FLASHBACK OVER

INT. TURDHAM MEDICAL EXAMINATION ROOM - MORNING

Fat Bastard fidgets with the adjustable hospital bed. He farts

each time it folds him forward and back.

FAT BASTARD
I just keep wringing ‘em out, eh?
 12.

THE DOCTOR
Wow. Your youth sounds traumatic.
Murder. Abandonment. Do you
remember your biological parents,
anything at all?

FAT BASTARD
I’ve had balls of ass-lint I
remember better than my birth
parents. Hell with ‘em, dumping me
at a place like that....

DRAMATIC ZOOM IN on Fat Bastard as he monologues.

FAT BASTARD
(emotional)
You couldn’t imagine what it was
like. An overweight child, in a
household that valued physical
perfection over your humanity.
Kids need love, and to be taught
that they’re not defined by their
flaws. I was only taught hurt. So
when I felt hurt, I’d hurt others.
My whole life, I’ve been trapped
in a cycle of pain, insecurity,
and anger. It’s no wonder I grew
up without a moral compass...

Beat. He undercuts the moment by UNCROSSING HIS LEGS (Basic

Instinct-style), EXPOSING HIS FRISBEE-WIDE CHODE to Doctor.

FAT BASTARD
(suggestively)
May I have dinner?

THE DOCTOR
No. Please don’t expose yourself.
Is it fair to say cannibalism was
a coping——

Fat Bastard closes his legs in a huff.

FAT BASTARD
What is this? Why am I here? Why
bring me back now? You putting
together some sorta suicide squad?

The Doctor pauses. She removes her glasses.

THE DOCTOR
Your case was re-opened.

FAT BASTARD
Re-opened? By who?
 13.

The Doctor unclips a photo from her clipboard.

THE DOCTOR
You’re a fatty, father——I mean,
sorry...you’re a father, Bastard.

The photo is of a YOUNG WOMAN, THE SPITTING IMAGE OF FAT

BASTARD, ONLY LARGER. She addresses a judge in a courtroom.

THE DOCTOR
Meet your daughter, Big Bitch.
Born to, and abandoned at a
PetSmart, by an Edinburgh sex
worker, whose services you may or
may not recall soliciting prior to
your incarceration.

FAT BASTARD
I’ll be. She’s got me tits...

We PULL BACK THROUGH THE ROOM’S MIRROR——IT’S A TWO-WAY MIRROR.

INT. TURDHAM OBSERVATION ROOM - CONT.

The Warden, guards, and BIG BITCH (also Mike Myers, plaid
pantsuit) watch Fat Bastard from a dimly lit observation room.

THE WARDEN
Self-pitying, dog-shit sob story.
(to Big Bitch)
He’s beyond help, you know. All
chode, no soul.

BIG BITCH
Wrong. My father’s no saint, but
for every centimeter of chode,
he’s got a kilometer of soul.
He’ll prove it. You wait and see.

THE WARDEN
He better hurry. Not much time
left.
(leaning close, taunting)
Clock’s ticking.

Big Bitch scowls. She thrusts her hips at The Warden and lets
out a SHARP WARNING QUEEF. The Warden backs off, intimidated.

INT. TURDHAM MEDICAL EXAMINATION ROOM - CONT.

THE DOCTOR
So, your case was re-opened.
(MORE)
 14.

THE DOCTOR (CONT’D)

It’s been closed again. The court
has reached a new verdict. Your
sentence has...changed.

FAT BASTARD
Well? On with it lass. Am I free?

THE DOCTOR
You lost the appeal. They gave you
the death sentence this time.

Fat Bastard falls back in his bed, processing the news.

INT. TURDHAM OBSERVATION ROOM - CONT.

Big Bitch hangs her head in shame.

THE DOCTOR
(in exam room)
Frankly the trial was a disaster.
During her opening statement, your
daughter accidentally passed gas
so putrid she was held in
contempt.

The Warden and guards cackle behind her.

FAT BASTARD
Death sentence, eh.

THE DOCTOR
Yes. The state will be executing
you via lethal suppository.

FAT BASTARD
Is that what it sounds like? And
when?

THE DOCTOR
Worse. And, tonight.

THE WARDEN
If I had it my way? I would’ve
left him thawing, turned the heat
up, sous vide his ass to haggis.

Big Bitch shoves past The Warden and storms out of the room.

GUARD #1
Hey, how about we throw him in
general population? Let the other
inmates have at him.
 15.

GUARD #2
Make his last day on earth a
living hell.

THE WARDEN
You boys might be onto something.

INT. TURDHAM MEDICAL EXAMINATION ROOM - CONT.

Big Bitch stands outside the exam room. She’s about to enter,
but hesitates. Instead, she puts her ear to the door.

FAT BASTARD
(shaken)
Guess I always knew this might be
a consequence of eating babies. I
just never thought it could happen
to me.

THE DOCTOR
Interesting you thought that.
Look, I know this is a lot to
process all at once. But would you
like to meet your daughter?

FAT BASTARD
And thank her for KILLING ME?
Pass. Tell that spunk-strumpet
she’s welcome to peck the corn
outta her old man’s CRAP!!!
Gesture of my gratitude!

Big Bitch’s eyes well with tears. She lets out a sad queef.

INT. TURDHAM VISITOR’S BATHROOM

Big Bitch slams a stall door shut and weeps on the toilet.

INT. TURDHAM MEDICAL EXAMINATION ROOM - CONT.

FAT BASTARD
Now if you’ll excuse me, I plan to
get in all the pounding off I can.

Fat Bastard reaches under his gown just as THE WARDEN ENTERS.

THE WARDEN
Put your cock away, you
infanticidal FUCK. GET UP!!!
 16.

INT. TURDHAM GENERAL POPULATION UNIT - DAY

The Warden CATTLE PRODS Fat Bastard in the ass (he now wears a
prison jumpsuit), shoving him into a general population area.

THE WARDEN
(announcing to inmates)
Brought you dogs a chew toy!

Fat Bastard is surrounded by dozens of famous criminals:

(Michelle Carter, Captain Barbosa, Darth Maul, R. Kelly,
Pinhead, Steven Avery/Brendan Dassey, etc.).

The Warden locks the steel bar door they came in through,
twirls his KEY RING, and whistles the Chili’s ribs jingle.

FAT BASTARD
Where’s my phone call? I want my
lawyer. You threw a T-REX to the
lions, Warden! Fucking mistake!

INT. TURDHAM VISITOR’S BATHROOM

Big Bitch dabs a HANDKERCHIEF on her running mascara——it bears

a SHARTSWORTH INSIGNIA, same as the letters from earlier.

She GRUNTS——we hear a splash in the toilet.

She REACHES IN THE TOILET and pulls out a METAL TUBE. She wipes
the feces off: a digital timer, a keypad, wiring——it’s A BOMB.

She types into the keypad. A timer FLASHES ON. She FLUSHES IT
DOWN THE TOILET.

Above the stall, an INDUSTRIAL AIR DUCT. Conveniently over-

sized. She stands on the toilet and reaches for the vent.

BIG BITCH
Be strong, father. I’m coming!

CUT TO BLACK:

EXT. SHARTSWORTH ACADEMY - DAY - PAST

Blue sky. Dreamy clouds. MUSIC CUE: COLDPLAY’S “YELLOW”. (This

parodies Boyhood’s opening almost frame-for-frame).

CLOSE-UP: an ORANGE TUFT OF HAIR. It’s the ASS OF TEENAGE FAT

BASTARD (ginger 70s afro) who lays facedown on grass, snoring.

A STRAY DOG enters and licks Teen Bastard’s ass-crack. It

begins humping him. This lasts a while.
 17.

CHRIS MARTIN
Look at the stars...look how they
shine for you...

The dog finishes on his back and kicks grass on it. Teen
Bastard STARTLES AWAKE.

TEEN FAT BASTARD

CRAP! I’m gonna be late for class!

He swats the dog away and sprints towards a HOGWARTS-ESQUE

CASTLE circled by a diarrhea moat (A CREW TEAM of huge children
practices in the waste).

He runs by an entrance sign: “SHARTSWORTH ACADEMY OF BASTARDRY

AND DIARRHEA...Raising Boys Into Henchmen.”

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

I never took it for granted how
lucky I was to get out of Glasgow
and make something of my life. I
knew I had to prove myself.

INT. SHARTSWORTH SCIENCE CLASSROOM - DAY

An owlish professor lectures a packed class. Projected on a

screen is a diagram of a huge body, labeled ‘BASTARD ANATOMY’.

ANATOMY PROFESSOR
TITTIES! SHITE! MASS! That’s all
there is to a Bastard’s body! The
rest of you? Just empty space up
yer arse for storing weapons.

Teen Bastard writes notes studiously.

ANATOMY PROFESSOR
Alright, next lesson! Wet dreams.

INT. SHARTSWORTH CAFETERIA - DAY

Teen Bastard eats alone. He dips a corncob in a pail of pesto

while doodling in a notebook: a Planned Parenthood logo with
the slogan “It’s all you can eat!”

ALBINO BASTARD (O.S.)

Hey!

Teen Bastard turns——he’s being waved at by a table of other

Bastards: Albino Bastard, Emo Bastard, Simple Bastard,
Orthodox-Jew Bastard, Hawaiian Bastard.
 18.

ALBINO BASTARD
Wanna sit with us?

TEEN FAT BASTARD

W-who? Me?

ALBINO BASTARD
Yeah, you!

Teen Bastard bashfully gathers his belongings and joins them.

Emo Bastard reaches out and honks one of his titties.

EMO BASTARD
We’re all jealous of your tits.

ORTHODOX-JEW BASTARD
I’d kill for udders like those.

TEEN FAT BASTARD

Thanks! They’re alright, I guess.

SIMPLE BASTARD
Alright? They’re drop dead sexy!

HAWAIIAN BASTARD
You were born blessed, hoaloha.
They will carry you far in life.

Teen Fat Bastard blushes as they all feel him up.

TEEN FAT BASTARD

Hey, wanna make a pact to lose our
virginity before we graduate?

ALBINO BASTARD
Sure!

They cut their palms with knives and high-five.

EXT. SHARTSWORTH ATHLETIC FIELDS - DAY

A sprawling athletic field. A football player kicks a turd out

of another student’s ass through goal posts. Kids give punching
dummies titty-twisters so powerful the dummies SHATTER.

A DRILL SERGEANT (Forest Whitaker) lectures the Bastard buds.

DRILL SERGEANT
The Turtlehead Technique is one of
the most important tools in a
Bastard’s asshole. OBSERVE!

Drill Sergeant lifts his kilt and squats over a TRIP WIRE.
 19.

CLOSE UP: the wire leads to the trigger of a MAGNUM REVOLVER,

fastened to a stand, aimed directly at the Sgt.’s head.

CLOSE UP: between the Sgt.’s legs——a TURD PEAKS OUT.

THE TURD LOWERS DOWN. It stops a few inches above the trip-
wire. It hovers there, then zips back up his ass. Squish.

Sergeant rises out of the squat position.

DRILL SERGEANT
TOTAL SPHINCTERAL CONTROL! With
the Turtlehead Technique, your
crap becomes a third arm. It can
prove INDISPENSABLE in the field.
Few can do it. Fewer have mastered
it. How does one learn this
technique? FEAR. Anus-clenching,
colon-wringing, FEAR. Today, you
will come to know this fear!
(to Simple Bastard)
YOU! Approach the wire. TRIAL BY
FIRE!

Simple Bastard nervously doddles forward to the trip-wire.

DRILL SERGEANT
SQUAT!

Simple Bastard squats down, trembling with fear.

DRILL SERGEANT
TURTLEHEAD!

Simple Bastard grits his buckteeth as a turd unceremoniously

FALLS OUT from his kilt and HITS THE WIRE——

THE GUN GOES OFF, BLOWING HIS BRAINS OUT. Blood and viscera
SPRAY on his classmates.

DRILL SERGEANT
Weak anus! Damn shame.

Stunned silence. HAGRID enters and loads Simple Bastard’s body

in a wheelbarrow. He wears headphones, listens to Howard Stern
on a portable radio, occasionally smiling to himself. He exits.

DRILL SERGEANT
Anyone else care to volunteer?

Silence.

DRILL SERGEANT
I didn’t think so.
 20.

Teen Bastard steps forward. His friends watch on in shock.

TEEN FAT BASTARD

(nervous)
I-I am, sir!

Sgt. marches before Teen Bastard, their faces just inches away.

DRILL SERGEANT
COCKSURE, are you? Dangerous trait
in a henchman! You’ll find that
out, if your career isn’t cut
short today. APPROACH THE WIRE!

Teen Bastard obeys. He squats. His kilt blows in the breeze.

A HUGE, CORN-MARBLED TURD pokes out from under Teen Bastard’s

kilt. It spirals downward, gracefully, in control.

DRILL SERGEANT
LOWER!

His classmates can’t bear to watch.

The turd pirouettes further. And further. Lower than Sgt’s.

DRILL SERGEANT
Steady now...

CLOSE-UP: The turd hovers even lower...until it seems to be

TOUCHING THE WIRE ITSELF.

Sgt. uncrosses his arms. He takes off his aviators. His stern
demeanor morphs into jaw-dropped amazement.

DRILL SERGEANT
RETRACT!

The turd ZIPS up into Teen Bastard’s ass. His classmates

excitedly chatter in hushed tones:

ALBINO BASTARD EMO BASTARD

Did you see that?! He’s a prodigy...

Sgt. clicks the gun’s safety. He BRUSHES A FINGER on the wire

where Teen Bastard squatted: it comes away with a BROWN SMUDGE.

DRILL SERGEANT
Impossible...

Teen Bastard mouth curls into a proud, shit-eating smirk.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

For once, I felt like I belonged.
Like I was meant for something.
 21.

FADE OUT...FLASHBACK OVER:

INT. TURDHAM ASLYUM - GENERAL POPULATION UNIT - DAY

TEXT: 1 Hour Until Execution

The Warden, flanked by guards, marches down a cellblock.

FAT BASTARD (O.S.)

(somewhere in the
distance)
Graduated top of my class. Got
recruited to hench at Blackwater
right out of school. I built
myself up from nothing. Now Look
at me. I threw it all away. All
because I couldn’t keep my work
and my appetite separated.

INMATE (O.S.)
(breathing heavily)
Shut the fuck up. Let me focus.

The Warden HALTS as he sees——

TWO SILHOUETTES CAST AGAINST A WALL. One is clearly Fat Bastard

on his knees. The other appears to be titty-fucking Fat
Bastard, thrusting vigorously against Fat’s dark profile.

(A callback to the tent silhouette gag from ‘Austin Powers: The

Spy Who Shagged Me’.)

THE WARDEN
A trick of the shadows, I’m sure.
Probably an attempt to saw through
the cuffs, or...hmm...

INT. KACZYNSKI’S CELL - CONT.

This is no shadow trick: Fat Bastard is actually letting the

INMATE (TED KACZYNSKI) titty-fuck him.

FAT BASTARD
AGH! Rugburn! Get on with it, Ted!

TED KACZYNSKI
I’m...I’m...OH!!!

Ted finishes with a MOAN. Fat Bastard zips up his jumpsuit.

TED KACZYNSKI
Much obliged, Fat B.
(MORE)
 22.

TED KACZYNSKI (CONT’D)

Shame the state’s gonna execute
you. God damn techno-fascist
government. They program you to
kill, then they act like it’s your
fault!

FAT BASTARD
I know, right? Okay, I’ve held up
my end. You got what I want?

TED KACZYNSKI
Deal’s a deal. Smuggling this on
short notice was not easy, though.

Ted lifts his bunk’s mattress, revealing——

A SLEEPING BABY. Cherubic, rosy-cheeked, happy.

Fat Bastard licks his lips. His eyes glaze over.

TED KACZYNSKI
What’s it with you and eating
these kids? To spare ‘em the pain
of inheriting a planet pillaged by
industrial greed?

FAT BASTARD
You know what I love about eating
babies? I get fatter, they stay
the same age.

They share a LAUGH, cut short by APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS.

Bastard STUFFS THE BABY IN HIS JUMPSUIT. He stretches out on

the lower bunk, acting casual.

The Warden and co. appear outside the cell. They open it.

THE WARDEN
Fuck outta here, Kacyzinski.

Ted, unintimidated, gets in a guard’s face as he exits.

GUARD #1
Your Last Meal is served, Bastard.

THE WARDEN
I was hoping someone would’ve
shivved you. What a letdown.

FAT BASTARD
Sorry to disappoint, Warden. Your
inmates found me quite charming.
 23.

Fat Bastard shimmies, farts, and wafts it at The Warden.

The Warden TAZES Fat Bastard. Fat rolls off the bunk and BONKS
HIS HEAD ON THE CELL TOILET, just before The Warden unloads an
entire can of PEPPER SPRAY IN HIS FACE.

Bastard writhes in agony, splashing toilet water in his eyes.

THE WARDEN
Think your sexy tits make you hot
shit? NEWSFLASH! You’re NOTHING
without your titties. Without
them, you’re just another 1-ton,
Scottish cannibal. A nobody.

FAT BASTARD
You’re just jealous——

Bastard slips and CRACKS his head on the toilet again.

THE WARDEN
Believe me, I am NOT jealous of
what’s in store for you tonight.
Care for a sneak peak?

Outside the cell, the guard wheels in an ELECTRIC CHAIR. The

Warden reveals a REMOTE CONTROL WITH A SINGLE RED BUTTON.

He presses it——A PHALLIC ROD SHOOTS UP FROM THE CHAIR’S SEAT

(WHERE AN ANUS WOULD BE), VIOLENTLY DISCHARGING SPARKS AND
ELECTRICITY LIKE A TESLA COIL BLOWTORCH.

THE WARDEN
They say lethal suppository is the
funniest way you can kill a man.
I’ll be the judge of that.

Fat Bastard shrinks back. Sparks reflect in his fearful eyes.

EXT. TURDHAM ASYLUM - SUNDOWN

The waning sun begins its descent behind a far-off mountain. A

shadow casts over Turdham. Watchtowers spotlights flash on.

INT. TURDHAM CAFETERIA - SUNDOWN

Fat Bastard’s bloodshot gaze clings to the fleeing sun through

a barred window in the empty prison cafeteria.

He slouches over a CHILI’S TO-GO BOX. The food’s barely

touched. Guards #1 and #2 supervise him, rifles at the ready.
 24.

FAT BASTARD
(chewing)
I said baby-back. Not boneless.

GUARD #1
No bones. Prison policy. In case
you try to kill yourself with ‘em.

He sighs. He pushes the food away, his hands still in cuffs.

GUARD #2
YOU, not hungry? That’s rich.

FAT BASTARD
Where’s my daughter?

GUARD #1
(shrugging)
Left your lard-ass to die alone.

GUARD #2
Don’t worry. I’ll take good care
of her after we’re done hauling
your corpse into a furnace.

Guard #2 humps the air. An erection protrudes from his pants.

FAT BASTARD
Listen, I changed my mind. I want
to see my daughter. You find her
for me, I can return the favor.

He gestures to his tits. Guard #2 unsheathes a BOWIE KNIFE and

presses it into Fat Bastard’s nipple.

GUARD #2
Maybe. But why buy a cow when you
have sex with its dad for free?
(leans in close)
Her queef smelled of gasoline.

Guard #2 does the Hannibal Lecter hiss. Guard #1 jeers, as——

A VENTILATION DUCT COLLAPSES ABOVE GUARD #1 AND CRUSHES HIM,

FOLDING HIM IN HALF BACKWARDS.

BIG BITCH SPRINGS FROM THE FALLEN DUCT LIKE A TRAPDOOR SPIDER.
She barrels towards Guard #2, who raises his rifle——TOO LATE.

She grabs both his nipples and TWISTS. His eyes roll back. He
bites his tongue off. His skin WILTS AND GRAYS.

BIG BITCH
AHHH!!!!
 25.

She releases. He falls, DEAD. She takes his knife and rifle.

BIG BITCH
Come with me if you want to
live...dad.

FAT BASTARD
Wait. How do I know you’re really
my daughter? And not an imposter,
leading me to a trap? I’ve got to
be absolutely certain before I can
trust you.

Side-by-side, it couldn’t be more obvious they are related.

BIG BITCH
I’m basically you with a wig...

FAT BASTARD
I got it. We compare skidmarks.
You can identify a person by their
skidmark better than fingerprints
or DNA. It’s the only way.

CUT TO: Fat Bastard and Big Bitch compare their semi-soiled
underwear: both have chunky skidmarks shaped like A CROSS.

FAT BASTARD
That’s my brand...it’s you.

BIG BITCH
Oh, father!

THEY HUG EACH OTHER TIGHTLY. A beautiful moment.

FAT BASTARD
Which whore was your mother again?

BIG BITCH
Save it. We’ve gotta move. This
hell-hole is about to go sky-high.

INT. VENTILATION DUCTS - CONT.

Fat Bastard crawls with Big Bitch in the dark vents.

FAT BASTARD
(out-of-breath)
Bomb in yer bum, eh? That’s a
Shartsworth tactic, alright.
When’d they start admitting women?

BIG BITCH
Shh!
 26.

Big Bitch peers down through a VENT. Light stripes her face.

It’s THE WARDEN’S OFFICE. The Warden’s ON THE PHONE. He sits

turned away from his desk, legs up on a window sill.

THE WARDEN
(into phone)
Mr. President, I assure you,
everything’s under control. By
sundown, Fat Bastard will be dead.

CLOSE-UP: a KEY RING on The Warden’s desk, behind him.

BIG BITCH
If only we had those keys, we
could get you out of those cuffs.

Bastard grins——an idea (CUE: Aerosmith’s “Back In The Saddle”).

INT. THE WARDEN’S OFFICE

The Warden spins the lethal suppository remote in his fingers.

THE WARDEN
(into phone)
Ah, of course, Mr. President. I
figured you’d ask that.

The VENT above The Warden’s desk unhinges, opening downward.

THE WARDEN
We will preserve his titties via
taxidermy. They will be sent to
your office, stat.

Bastard’s ASS dips out of the vent——with a TURTLEHEAD POKING

OUT. The Turtlehead silently descends behind The Warden.

THE WARDEN
Can I make a small request, sir?

The Turtlehead is now 5 FEET LONG. It spirals ever lower.

THE WARDEN
May I...suck on them, first?

INT. VENTILATION DUCT - CONT.

Fat Bastard concentrates zen-like. Big Bitch beams with pride.

BIG BITCH
Dad, you’re brilliant.
 27.

FAT BASTARD
Once we get out of here, I’ll
teach you the family recipe, eh?

INT. THE WARDEN’S OFFICE

The Turtlehead cascades further. The Warden fist pumps, elated.

THE WARDEN
(maintaining composure)
Thank you! Thank you so much sir!
I won’t let you down.

The Turtlehead gracefully comes to a halt, then STABS DOWN at

the keys and RETRACTS UP AGAIN, like a frog’s tongue snatching
a fly——the KEYS NOW EMBEDDED AT THE TURD’S SOFT TIP.

The Warden SNIFFS, repulsed. He checks the bottom of his shoe.

The turd and keys ascend into Bastard’s ass. The vent SHUTS.

INT. VENTILATION DUCT - CONT.

We pan up from Bastard’s discarded handcuffs to his bottom half

wiggling around a corner farther down the duct, out of sight.

INT. SEPTIC TANK - CONT.

Fat Bitch’s ass-bomb floats atop sludgey human waste. It BEEPS

——the green countdown clock FLASHES RED.

INT. VENTILATION DUCT

Through an air vent’s grills, we see TURDHAM’S FRONT GATE.

They’ve reached an exit to the outside.

Guards pace the barbed-wire fence in Golden Hour sunlight. A

WATCHTOWER SNIPER patrols from above.

BIG BITCH
We’ll be sitting ducks out there.
There has to be another exit.

Big Bitch turns to find A BABY ARM REACHING OUT OF FAT

BASTARD’S JUMPSUIT, TUGGING ON HIS SIDEBURNS.

FAT BASTARD
Ouch! Fuggh’off!

BIG BITCH
Is that what I think it is?
 28.

The Baby (voiced by Björk) squirms out of his jumpsuit,

GIGGLING. It tries to hug Bastard. He smacks it away.

THE BABY
Buh.

BIG BITCH
(devastated)
I can’t believe you. Have you
learned nothing?

FAT BASTARD
What? Pinch off some empathy, will
ya, I thought I was gonna die.
‘One for the road’, y’know?

BIG BITCH
You think I dedicated MY LIFE to
freeing you, just so you could go
back to eating——to hell with this.
Why shouldn’t I just turn you in?

FAT BASTARD
NO. Look, I’ll...split it with ya?

BIG BITCH
Stupid Bitch, listening to my
heart. They were right. You’re
beyond help.

FAT BASTARD
FINE! I have a problem. I admit
it. Happy?! Who would YOU go to
with something like this? “Hi, I’m
a 1-ton man who eats babies ‘cause
I had a weird childhood! When I
was a toddler, I breastfed myself!
Each time I shit, the bathroom
mirrors fog up!” I’m a Maury
Povich segment! A FUCKING JOKE! No
one’s ever believed I’m worth
helping——except you. So if you
want me to try, I’ll try. Don’t
give up on me now.

Big Bitch is torn. She turns away, shaking her head. While she
isn’t looking, Fat Bastard SNEAKS A LICK OF THE BABY, tongue
flicking like a snake.

BIG BITCH
Alright. I believe you.

THE BABY
Buh buh buh buhhhh.
 29.

Fat Bastard eyes dart from The Baby to the guards outside. The
wheels in his head begin to turn.

FAT BASTARD
Thank you, honey. Now just follow
daddy’s lead. I have an idea.

INT. TURDHAM MESS HALL - CONT.

The Warden strolls into the cafeteria, a spring in his step, a

mug of coffee in hand.

THE WARDEN
(tune of Chili’s ribs jingle)
I want to execute-execute-execute-
execute Fat Bastard——

He sees the guard corpses——his mug DROPS AND SHATTERS. He leaps

to a wall-mounted ALARM BOX: IT’S KEY OPERATED. The Warden
frantically searches his pockets for the key ring.

A panicked voice hisses from a WALKIE-TALKIE on his hip.

GUARD #3
(via walkie-talkie)
SIR! We have a situation!

The Warden shudders. He brings the walkie-talkie to his mouth.

THE WARDEN
Where’s my prisoner?

GUARD #3
Front gate! Sir, they’ve got a
FUCKING BABY. I REPEAT: BASTARD IS
HOLDING AN INFANT HOSTAGE!

EXT. TURDHAM FRONT GATE - CONT.

A swarm of Turdham security parts like the Red Sea, letting the
trio march through them, towards the front gate.

Fat Bastard HOLDS A KNIFE TO THE BABY. Big Bitch aims the rifle
at the guards.

FAT BASTARD
Ever spatchcock a baby?! Guns on
the ground, OR I’LL DEMONSTRATE!

The guards oblige. Big Bitch cranes her neck up to a

WATCHTOWER, where a SNIPER has Fat Bastard in his scope.
 30.

BIG BITCH
THE GATE. OPEN IT.

The Warden’s voice BOOMS over an outdoor P.A. system.

THE WARDEN
Shoot to kill! Aim for his head——I
WANT THOSE TITS INTACT!

THE SNIPER
But the infant——

INT. THE WARDEN’S OFFICE - CONT.

The Warden leans out his office window, overlooking the chaos.
He barks into the P.A. microphone:

THE WARDEN
(into microphone)
THAT’S AN ORDER!

EXT. TURDHAM FRONT GATE - CONT.

The Sniper cocks his gun, AIMING FOR A HEADSHOT ON FAT BASTARD.

INTERCUT between:

The BOMB in the septic tank: “3...2...”——

CLOSE-UP: the Sniper’s finger on the trigger——

THE BABY grinning ear-to-ear——

CLOSE-UP: The Warden, sweaty, screaming in slow-motion——

Big Bitch swings her rifle towards the Sniper, twisting her
body to SHIELD FAT BASTARD——

The Bomb: “...1”——

INT. TURDHAM WOMEN’S BATHROOM - CONT.

LORI LOUGHLIN pouts on a toilet, jumpsuit around her ankles,

pissing like a racehorse. She folds a wad of toilet paper.

LORI LOUGHLIN
Spoiled god damn brat. Just had to
go to UCLA——

A GUNSHOT outside cuts her off.

 31.

LORI LOUGHLIN
Oh my god. What was...

The gunshot is followed by a DEEP BOOM FROM BELOW. The room

quakes. TILES SHAKE LOOSE OFF THE WALL. HER TOILET RATTLES.

Lori tries to steady herself until——the toilet EXPLODES IN A

GEYSER OF SHIT AND FIRE, ROCKETING HER THROUGH THE CEILING.

INT. TURDHAM SHOWERS - CONT.

Dhzokhar Tsarnaev, Chuckie, Jared Fogle, Khalid Sheikh

Mohammed, Phil Spector, and Voldemort (all nude) slip and fall
over each other as the room quakes violently.

Shower-heads BURST OFF THEIR MOUNT. SCALDING HUMAN WASTE floods

onto the criminals, now WAILING IN AGONY.

INT. TURDHAM ASYLUM - CRYOGENIC STORAGE UNIT - CONT.

Blazing diarrhea leaks into the cryogenic storage area——THE

OTHER CRIMINALS’ ICE BLOCKS BEGIN TO MELT.

EXT. TURDHAM ASYLUM - CONT. - AERIAL VIEW

Exterior pipes RUPTURE and FLOOD Turdham’s central courtyard

(walled in on all sides, it’s the ‘bowl’ of the toilet-shaped
prison) with swirling septic hellfire. EMERGENCY SIRENS HOWL.

EXT. TURDHAM FRONT GATE - CONT.

Smoke hisses from the tip of The Sniper’s rifle——he’s alive.

Big Bitch leans on Fat Bastard——she’s been SHOT IN THE GUT.

FAT BASTARD
Hold the baby to your wound, we
need to stop the blood!

Fat Bastard presses The Baby (happy as can be) into the wound.

The Sniper takes aim at Bastard again until he sees——

Lori Loughlin and her toilet, SOARING TOWARDS HIM LIKE A COMET.

THE SNIPER
AHH!!!!

DIRECT HIT. In quick succession, TWO MORE TOILETS NAIL THE

WATCHTOWER.
 32.

It TILTS, with a horrid screech of twisting metal, and

COLLAPSES——bringing Turdham’s security fence down with it,
CRUSHING the rest of the guards.

Bastard lugs Big Bitch over his shoulder (think Platoon). He

dashes over the fallen fence, into a cloud of smoke and dust.

They vanish beyond the reach of the light from the watchtower’s
flaming debris, into the desert night. The last of the sunset
sinks below the horizon. Night swallows Turdham.

INT. THE WARDEN’S OFFICE - CONT.

The Warden steps back from his window. He gazes over the
pandemonium, seething. His walkie-talkie spews staticky
yelling. He clicks it off.

The Warden’s fists CLENCH so hard he CRUSHES THE LETHAL

SUPPOSITORY REMOTE. He grabs the P.A. microphone:

THE WARDEN
GET ME A FUCKING CHOPPER!!!

EXT. DESERT - TWILIGHT

The Warden’s voice echoes out in the moonlit wasteland.

TIME-LAPSE: The Bastard/Bitch/Baby trio trudges along, through

cacti, patches of thorn thickets, rock bluffs, etc. At one
point, a COYOTE runs up and sniffs Big Bitch’s ass. Bastard
grabs it by the tail and SLAMS it into a cactus.

The flames of Turdham vanish from sight as they round a butte.

EXT. GRAND CANYON - DEAD OF NIGHT - LATER

TIME-LAPSE ENDS: Fat Bastard collapses atop a VAST CANYON,

exhausted. Our trio shivers——it’s now cold outside. Their
breath is visible. The wind howls. It LIGHTLY SNOWS.

FAT BASTARD
(teeth chattering)
S-so c-cold. My cock is freezer-
burned. Flaccid, but rock hard. My
nipples could cut obsidian...

He strikes a ROCK against his steel-hard nipples. Sparks fall

on his meager kindling of sticks and brush. But no flame.
 33.

FAT BASTARD
I’da chose Bangkok, but this isn’t
a bad first family trip, eh? Eh?

He nudges Big Bitch. She moans. The Baby pokes her bosom.

THE BABY
Bebé leche?

Fat Bastard yanks The Baby away.

FAT BASTARD
Fuck off, puny buzzard, you!
(to Big Bitch)
Talk to me, Bitch. You need to
stay awake.

BIG BITCH
Dad...it’s over for me....

FAT BASTARD
Don’t say that. We’ve got too much
lost time to make up for. Tell me
about puberty or something. QUICK!

BIG BITCH
You two won’t make it through the
night either...not in this cold...

She takes her dad’s hand and PRESSES THE BOWIE KNIFE INTO IT.

BIG BITCH
Get...in...my...belly...

FAT BASTARD
What?

BIG BITCH
While you were in prison, there
was a movie called ‘The Revenant’.
Leonardo DiCaprio’s character cut
open a horse and slept in it, to
survive the cold.

FAT BASTARD
That sounds pretty cool...

BIG BITCH
It was just okay. But listen, I’ve
been storing up me farts all
night. I’ll be warm.

Fat Bastard looks at his reflection in the knife.

 34.

FAT BASTARD
You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re
not making sense. You sound dumb.

BIG BITCH
If you die, all my sacrifices will
be for nothing. Go on. Get in.

She weakly pats her belly.

FAT BASTARD
Why are you doing this for me? You
must have been bullied your whole
life for being my kid. Hell, even
I would’ve bullied you if I wasn’t
me. “You’re dad shoulda eaten YOU,
ya fuckin’ cuntpuddle!” See? It’s
too easy. You should hate me. I
was never there to protect you.

BIG BITCH
But you were there. Everyday. I
had your titties. Your stink. A
vagina version of a chode. Anytime
I was lonely, I’d jiggle my tits
in the mirror and say, “oh ya,
how’s it going, dad? Miss ya.”

Big Bitch feebly turns to the moon.

BIG BITCH
”Sometimes I go about in pity for
myself, and all the while a great
flatulence carries me across the
sky.”
(to Fat Bastard)
That’s an ancient fat person
saying. No, my life wasn’t easy.
Allah tests us in ways we can
never understand. But our
suffering always has a purpose.

She pulls Fat Bastard close.

BIG BITCH
And mine was you. No more munching
on little ’uns. Promise.

He looks back and forth between her and The Baby. He sighs.

FAT BASTARD
Aye. I promise...I’ll try.

Big Bitch closes her eyes. Her nose hairs catch snowflakes.
 35.

Fat Bastard looks at his reflection in the knife’s blade.

CUT TO SUPER WIDE: so wide we can’t see them anymore. Just the
vast canyon on a snowy night.

CUT TO BLACK:

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

I eat because I’m unhappy. And I’m
unhappy because I eat.

FLASHBACK:

EXT. GLASGOW PROJECTS - WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

A rundown warehouse in a derelict area of Glasgow. There’s a

commotion inside. Dozens of voices shouting.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

It’s a vicious cycle.

INT. GLASGOW PROJECTS - WAREHOUSE - CONT.

Scottish low-lifes YELL AND WAVE CRUMPLED FISTFULS OF CASH.

They surround what appears to be a MINI-BOXING RING——a shoddy
arena made of scrap-wood boards. BLOOD STAINS everywhere.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

A cycle that can only begin in the
absence of love, or the presence
of evil.

BABY FAT BASTARD sits in the arena, across from ANOTHER INFANT.
This is a BABY FIGHTING RING.

Baby Bastard turns to FAT FATHER and FAT MOTHER (Damien Lewis
and Christina Hendricks, woolly, red-haired, huge).

Baby Bastard looks scared.

FAT FATHER
OY! What’re you doing, ya dumb
galumph?! GO ON!

FAT MOTHER
TEAR ‘EM TO BITS OR I’LL WHOOP YA!

Baby Bastard begins to crawl towards the other infant——

CUT TO: Baby Bastard’s parents hold him up (blood-soaked, 1000-

yard stare) triumphantly. The crowd GOES WILD.
 36.

FAT FATHER
11 and 0! HELLUVA STREAK, lad!

INT. SHITTY GLASGOW APARTMENT - NIGHT

In a shit-hole, roach-infested apartment, Baby Bastard sits in

a crib littered with soda cans and junk food wrappers. He tries
to breastfeed himself with his own titty.

Fat Mother finishes a beer, chucks it on the floor and BURPS.

Fat Father counts their cash winnings on a trash-strewn table.

FAT FATHER
Aye, we’d be sitting all lovey-
dovey if half the money didn’t go
to diapers. BLOODY BULLOCKS!!

FAT MOTHER
(piss drunk)
Enough of yer whining, ya
wankstain. I gots us a plan.

She staggers to the crib. Baby Bastard lifts his arms, begging
to be picked up. Fat Mother scratches her ass and lights a cig.

FAT MOTHER
(to Baby Bastard)
Tomorrow, ya throw the fight. Ya
go down in the 1st. Let him eat ya
all the way. Gotta be all the way.
Understand, ya fookin’ baby?

Baby Bastard sucks his thumb anxiously.

INT. GLASGOW PROJECTS - WAREHOUSE - THE NEXT NIGHT

Back in the ring. The crowd is extra aggressive tonight.

Baby Bastard’s opponent GROWLS, crawling around the ring at an

impossible speed. It’s like a piranha.

Baby Bastard whimpers in his mother’s arms. His father massages

his baby shoulders like a boxing coach.

FAT FATHER
(whispering)
Lots o’ money riding on this, boy.

FAT MOTHER
(whispering)
Don’t get smart. Take the dive.
 37.

Fat Mother places Baby Bastard in the ring. Baby Bastard

reaches up to her, desperate to get out. She SHOVES HIM BACK.

A BELL RINGS. Piranha Baby zooms forward. Baby Bastard

hesitates, but at the last second, GRAPPLES with Piranha Baby.

PUSH-IN on Fat Father and Mother, who watch with bated breath.

FAT BASTARD (V.O)

How do we break the cycles we’re
born into? The ones that make us
the monsters we become, before we
ever have a choice?

OFF-SCREEN we hear the GORY GNASHING OF FLESH. The parents’

anxious faces devolve into horror. They explode in anger.

REFEREE (O.S.)
12 and 0 for the chunker!

FAT FATHER FAT MOTHER

No, no, no, NO!!! YOU’VE RUINED US!!!

FAT BASTARD (V.O)

The ones that cost us everything?

EXT. GLASGOW SUBURBS - NIGHT

Fat Father PUNTS Baby Bastard onto the doorstep of the

Bodybuilder Family from the beginning.

FAT BASTARD (V.O.)

Beats me. All I know is we’re
supposed to try.

CUT TO BLACK:

EXT. GRAND CANYON - MORNING

CLOSE-UP: Big Bitch’s (dead, contorted) face is bathed in

morning light. Her hair and bushy eyebrows sway in the canyon
breeze, like tall grass in the Scottish highlands.

WIDE-SHOT: A panoramic view of the canyon, snow mostly melted.

Fat Bastard’s GORE-COVERED FIST BURSTS INTO THE SHOT FROM
SCREEN-BOTTOM. We hear the wet shuffle of viscera.

His head pops into frame. He gasps for air.

FAT BASTARD
Rebirth...
 38.

JUMP TO:

Fat Bastard has moved Big Bitch’s body (torso hollowed) behind
a boulder near the cliff’s edge, out of the sun. He covers her
face with the SHARTSWORTH HANDKERCHIEF. A meager bouquet of
desert weeds are folded in her clasped hands.

FAT BASTARD
One night inside you was all I
needed to know I’m the luckiest
dad there ever was. God bless.

Fat Bastard’s stomach GROWLS. As if in response, a tinier

stomach growls off-screen: it’s The Baby, sitting by his side.

The Baby (head-to-toe bloody) pokes Fat Bitch’s bosom again.

THE BABY
Para bebè?

Fat Bastard grits his teeth, in full will-power restraint.

FAT BASTARD
(under his breath)
Bebè ceviche...

The Baby cocks its head, confused. It raises its arms.

THE BABY
Buh! Barriba!

Fat Bastard lifts The Baby up to his face. They look into each
other’s eyes. A tense moment...until Bastard sighs in relent.

FAT BASTARD
(begrudgingly)
Don’t go imprinting on me, ya wee
fart-box. Just because I won’t eat
you doesn’t mean I gotta like you.

Suddenly, between these two——A MILITARY HELICOPTER RISES OUT OF

THE CANYON, DIRECTLY FACING THEM.

THE WARDEN leans out of the chopper holding a MEGAPHONE.

THE WARDEN
SURRENDER OR DIE. CHOICE IS YOURS,
FAT BASTARD.

The chopper kicks up dust at our duo, pushing them back.

FAT BASTARD
FANCY A FIGHT, EH?!
(MORE)
 39.

FAT BASTARD (CONT’D)

I JUST SLEPT IN MY OWN CHILD’S
CARCASS——YOU THINK I KNOW FEAR?
COME SUMO WRESTLE ME LIKE A MAN,
WARDEN!

Fat Bastard flips him off and bolts behind the boulder.

INT. HELICOPTER - CONT.

THE WARDEN
(to pilot, in headset)
Give him a few warning shots.
Scare off his appetite, buy the
kid some time.

EXT. GRAND CANYON - CONT.

The chopper’s turret SPITS DOZENS OF BULLETS INTO THE ROCKFACE.

Suddenly——A CRACK SPLINTERS THE ROCKFACE. ANOTHER CRACK.

The ground RUMBLES AND SHIFTS under Fat Bastard.

INT. HELICOPTER - CONT.

The Warden and The Pilot watch in horror as the LEDGE STARTS TO
BREAK OFF THE CANYON. The boulder TILTS DOWN.

THE WARDEN
PULL BACK! PULL BACK!

EXT. GRAND CANYON - CONT.

The chopper lifts——the boulder MISSES ITS PROPELLERS BY A HAIR.

TONS OF EARTH PLUMMETS INTO THE CANYON——

Fat Bastard and The Baby fall with it.

FAT BASTARD THE BABY

AHHH!!! BAHH!!!

SMASH CUT TO BLACK:

FADE IN:
 40.

EXT. CREVICE - LATER

CLOSE UP: Fat Bastard blinks awake, his face cut and bruised.

BLURRY POV: Through Bastard’s concussed vision, we see The Baby

dangling by its diaper from a BRANCH JUTTING FROM THE ROCKFACE.

THE BABY
Boh buhh.....

Fat Bastard looks down. A steep drop. About 30-feet off the
ground. His legs dangle mid-air.

FAT BASTARD
Wh-where——
(terrible realization)
No, no, no, no...

Fat Bastard’s TITTIES ARE PINNED BETWEEN THE BOULDER AND A

ROCKWALL. It’s a ‘127 Hours’ situation.

INT. HELICOPTER - CONT.

The Warden watches through binoculars, from 100s of feet above.

THE PILOT
He appears to be in a ‘127 Hours’
situation. Shall I inform POTUS?

THE WARDEN
Tell the President we’ve
compromised Fat Bastard’s titties?
Are you INSANE? As far as he
knows, Fat Bastard’s titties
remain at large, presumed INTACT
and FUCKABLE. Understood?

The chopper pulls away.

EXT. CREVICE - CONT.

Bastard heaves the boulder with all his might. Doesn’t budge.

FAT BASTARD
BABY! I’ll swing a Turtlehead at
you like a rope. Grab it, hold on,
and I’ll swing you safety.

He pulls the BOWIE KNIFE from his pocket and saws off the
bottom of his JUMPSUIT until he’s nude from the waist down.

Instead of a Turtlehead, a SPOUT OF DIARRHEA comes out.

 41.

FAT BASTARD
Only liquid in the tank. DAMN!

He punches the boulder in frustration.

FAT BASTARD
Think Bastard, think...

The branch begins to pull from its root——it’s COMING LOOSE.

Fat Bastard watches a pebble fall and land in a TINY PUDDLE at

the bottom of the crevice. It makes a mini-splash.

FAT BASTARD
That’s it...

Fat Bastard SCREAMS LIKE A SUPER SAIYAN, unleashing a FLOOD OF

DIARRHEA, which begins pooling up down on the ground.

INTERCUT BETWEEN: Bastard squeezing AGAIN. And AGAIN.

The branch slips LOOSER, ALMOST TOTALLY UNROOTED—

The diarrhea has puddled into a bonafide POND——

The BRANCH SNAPS. THE BABY PLUMMETS——

THE BABY LANDS IN THE DIARRHEA POND WITH A BIG SPLASH——

After a tense beat, Baby SURFACES. It doggy-paddles to the

bank, and crawls to land. It looks up and CLAPS.

Fat Bastard, absolutely spent, sighs in relief.

FAT BASTARD
My asshole...it feels like it just
got interviewed on Hot Ones. Burns
like a monk. You owe me, dwarf.

Baby shrugs. He turns to his pinned titties. Now, the bad part.

FAT BASTARD
Look at me, hanging by my
tits...it’s fucking stupid!
Fucking low-brow!

He gently caresses them, tears running down his face. He looks

to the sky. Vultures circle overhead.

FAT BASTARD
(to God)
Must be fun, making my existence
one big toilet joke. Just one
disgusting gag after the other.
(MORE)
 42.

FAT BASTARD (CONT’D)

Is that all I have in store? Have
I not paid the price for my
crimes? WAS MY DAUGHTER NOT
ENOUGH?!

Silent beat. The stillness is broken by a BREEZE, attended by

muted flatulence, a low-rumbling squeaker seeming to come from
the earth itself. His anger wanes as he yields to the wind.

He adjusts his grip on the knife. The Baby shields its eyes.

FAT BASTARD
(bracing himself)
Our suffering...has a purpose...

EXT. GRAND CANYON - CONT.

SUPERWIDE: Fat Bastard’s AGONIZED HOWLS echo in the canyons.

CUT TO BLACK

TEXT: Fat Bastard will return in...

‘Redeeming Fat Bastard' Chapter 2: How Bastard Got His Boobs

Back

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

As we pull back, we reveal the text and credit music is playing

on a TV screen...in a dark hospital room. The TV is the only
source of light in the room.

MIKE MYERS HIMSELF watches the TV from a hospital bed. He has

pallid skin, sunken eyes, no hair, and is on a ventilator,
clearly in the late stages of a serious illness.

In the room’s window, the flash of POLICE LIGHTS and FIRES. We

hear a MASSIVE RIOT OUTSIDE. Protest chants. Gunshots.

Mike blinks. His facial expression is completely blank. He

simply stares at the screen, showing no reaction at all.

THE END.