SigilOfLeviBF
Terrance's #2 Fan
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 17
- Points
- 0
[updated:LAST EDITED ON Jun-29-03 AT 12:53 PM (EST) by WestPREZ (moderator)](FADEIN: At a hotel lobby sits CASTOR V. STRIFE, hair tied back to allow his handy gask mask to fit over his face with ease. For Castor newcomers, he wears that gas mask to shield himself from any diseases he might catch from the mediocre hack public. Next to him sits LANA DREMIRE, wearing her platinum shoulder-length cut bangs wig, yellow sandals, with her feet propped up on the arm of the couch, smoking a long french cigarette. Her eyes are covered by big black 80's sunglasses, yet she still manages to read Feng-Shui magazine.)
LANA: (Turning pages) Castor hun...
CASTOR: Hmmm?
LANA: What's there to do around here? I mean, we've been here maybe a week now and I've been nothing but bored. Flying's not a problem, so why don't we just move back to the old place? This climate just does not match my personal wardrobe, and I think for all that money-(interruption)
CASTOR: This isn't the time to talk about this. In fact, we're never talking about this, and if you somehow get me talking about this, I'm gonna make your lip bleed. Now shutup. By the way, what's Benjamin doing?
LANA: (Points behind her)
CASTOR: (Looks over his shoulder)
(BENJAMIN's on the floor, El Puta mask and all, reaching his arm through the bottom of a vending machine. He's trying to at least reach the 40 cent packs of gum at the bottom. His legs are flailing sideways on the floor as he's dirtying his swim shorts and 'Friendly Neighborhood Spidey' t-shirt. Some business guys walk by and look down; Benjamin sees them and quickly tries to get up, but instead hurts his arm and falls back to the ground, exclaiming, "Piece of f*cking sh*t!". He looks up at the businessmen, who are already down the hall, and yells, "What? It took my quarter, I swear! I don't need to steal. Hey man, you never had to work a day in your life! Yeah, ignore me 'cause I'm Mexican, man.")
CASTOR: You know you should be watching him? ... Right?
LANA: ...
CASTOR: Right?
LANA: ::sighs:: I suppose! Look, I'm going out to lunch with some friends, and I'm GONNA need some cash. You've forced me to live a week in this sewer, and I think I deserve at least that. (Holds out hand for the money, without even looking at Castor.)
CASTOR: Put your hand away. And since when do you have friends? We don't have any friends in this city, and when we DO, I'll let you know. Until then, if you ever demand from me again, I'll have you barefoot in the kitchen at 8am making Benjamin's oatmeal. Keep a one track mind; that goes for Benjamin too. The both of you need to realize what's at stake here, which is MY reputation. If we don't win the conference, you can still surf the mall over on Rodeo, but as for me? I could be doing public access for the next 20 years, and that just can't happen!
LANA: Oh, shut the f*ck up. By the way, who's JOEY MELTON?
CASTOR: Don't worry about it.
LANA: I heard you talking about him the other day; come on, who is he?
CASTOR: Just a fan, he wanted my autograph the other day. (Points over at Benjamin.) Hey, can you get him over here please?!
(Lana turns to see Benjamin shaking the machine, yelling out words in Spanish.)
LANA: HEY! MORON! Stop that sh*t and get over here! I swear to Christ, if you make me put my magazine down again, I'll burn your damn Star Wars collection!
BENJAMIN: (Screams) Don't touch it! I'm coming!
(FTB)
LANA: (Turning pages) Castor hun...
CASTOR: Hmmm?
LANA: What's there to do around here? I mean, we've been here maybe a week now and I've been nothing but bored. Flying's not a problem, so why don't we just move back to the old place? This climate just does not match my personal wardrobe, and I think for all that money-(interruption)
CASTOR: This isn't the time to talk about this. In fact, we're never talking about this, and if you somehow get me talking about this, I'm gonna make your lip bleed. Now shutup. By the way, what's Benjamin doing?
LANA: (Points behind her)
CASTOR: (Looks over his shoulder)
(BENJAMIN's on the floor, El Puta mask and all, reaching his arm through the bottom of a vending machine. He's trying to at least reach the 40 cent packs of gum at the bottom. His legs are flailing sideways on the floor as he's dirtying his swim shorts and 'Friendly Neighborhood Spidey' t-shirt. Some business guys walk by and look down; Benjamin sees them and quickly tries to get up, but instead hurts his arm and falls back to the ground, exclaiming, "Piece of f*cking sh*t!". He looks up at the businessmen, who are already down the hall, and yells, "What? It took my quarter, I swear! I don't need to steal. Hey man, you never had to work a day in your life! Yeah, ignore me 'cause I'm Mexican, man.")
CASTOR: You know you should be watching him? ... Right?
LANA: ...
CASTOR: Right?
LANA: ::sighs:: I suppose! Look, I'm going out to lunch with some friends, and I'm GONNA need some cash. You've forced me to live a week in this sewer, and I think I deserve at least that. (Holds out hand for the money, without even looking at Castor.)
CASTOR: Put your hand away. And since when do you have friends? We don't have any friends in this city, and when we DO, I'll let you know. Until then, if you ever demand from me again, I'll have you barefoot in the kitchen at 8am making Benjamin's oatmeal. Keep a one track mind; that goes for Benjamin too. The both of you need to realize what's at stake here, which is MY reputation. If we don't win the conference, you can still surf the mall over on Rodeo, but as for me? I could be doing public access for the next 20 years, and that just can't happen!
LANA: Oh, shut the f*ck up. By the way, who's JOEY MELTON?
CASTOR: Don't worry about it.
LANA: I heard you talking about him the other day; come on, who is he?
CASTOR: Just a fan, he wanted my autograph the other day. (Points over at Benjamin.) Hey, can you get him over here please?!
(Lana turns to see Benjamin shaking the machine, yelling out words in Spanish.)
LANA: HEY! MORON! Stop that sh*t and get over here! I swear to Christ, if you make me put my magazine down again, I'll burn your damn Star Wars collection!
BENJAMIN: (Screams) Don't touch it! I'm coming!
(FTB)