Scene 4.05 - Secret Project
EST: INT. Bridge, Orb of Doom - Flying through space
(Set and costumes circa 1920-1960 - mostly gangsters & molls, more like 1920 than like 1950, post-war 40s dress in only in the latter models. Can I say art deco, art deco, art deco without beating a dead horse -- to death? Let’s pretend the movement never went out-of-style, ‘cause it really hasn’t. Face it, it’s 2969, it’s been five centuries since the Earth’s was pummeled by a rogue asteroid, and everyone’s moved to either the moon or Mars and even if some live to be five-hundred years old, none can remember a time without robots. The robots of 2969 are about as primitive as the robots of science-fiction lore, save the robots created by Dr. Belladonna Annabella Diablo. In these trying times, death-and-taxes just won’t go away; and religion has become a slogan and churches have trademarks and patents on the virtues of their respective god or gods -- respectively and irrespectively. Humanity is polarized and the best-laid plans have all gone to waste -- from the cold-fusion shower-cap to the anti-gravitational wet-suit, fads and fashions have all succumbed to the everlasting human need to be self-actualized, not counted as a number or to neatly be categorized and placed in an anonymous box. The greatest current scientific debate is over whether a planet-wide artificial lunar environment is more feasible than a half-naturally-terraformed one. The latest invention is transparent fabric, made with a molecular current depositor or something like that -- it’s all the rage at the Winterhaven Lunar Nudist Colony. Psychosis spreads like an epidemic in close quarters and few, save the superheroes and the military, see an optimistic future for the human race. Well-intergrated and organized, humanity scurries about in their tunnels and cubicles and mazes like little rats in a cosmic laboratory, leaving a few gaps in the evolutionary matrix; gaps that form anomalies -- genetic mutants, like Dr. Belladonna Annabella Diablo. According to the automated census of 2960, Belladonna Annabella Diablo has the greatest intelligence quotient of any living being in the solar system. She is 181 years old and doesn’t look a minute over 22. She is absolutely driven by unrelenting madness and pure estrogen alone. An anti-social, socio-and-psychopathic, homicidal-and-suicidal nymphomaniac, she seeks to escape all human contact; which usually ends in her incarceration or a court-mandated medical procedure that she has avoided by keeping it “tied-up” in the Lunar Court Of Appeals. For solace; poor Belladonna must spend her winters on the coldest and lonliest moon of Jupiter solely with her childhood creations; manufactured in her early days when she thought enough love and enough dreams and enough mathematics could make a little magic. Lately, she has been driven to that purpose once again. To her, the ends justify the means because she sees no end to her insanity, and her creations, the slotbots, are little comfort in the arena of mental health. The slotbots themselves are very classy and extremely sexy; and appear much like their respective monikers imply. It’s completely art deco -- have I hit that nail on the head and buried that hatchet and crossed that bridge with water under it enough already to put it to rest? Classic Art Deco. THE ORB OF DOOM is an opaque, black, marbled sphere. It measures a mile in diameter and has no apparent hatches, portals, obtuse tanks or panels littering its smooth surface; it is unlike any other craft of this modern era. The destructobots held in the transparent cargo bay are quarter-mile-tall, humanoid, asexual robots with an array of weaponry attached to their genderless bodies. For now, the destructobots are unseen in totality, only as part of the background. Their feet and legs appear as vast columns, or perhaps, two art-deco, humanoid statues adorning the room. DIABLO is sipping an extra-foamy root-beer and snacking on gingerbread women.)
DIABLO
Ha! Ha! Ha! Luna will be mine! One more piece! Ha! Ha! Ha!
RUBY
(In a dark, sleek, sequined dress with a slit riding up to indecency, standing on seven-inch heels, carrying a foot-long cigarette holder and sporting a perfect bob with jewel-encrusted barrettes -- betraying her age of 164 years to appear a mere weekend past her seventeenth birthday:) Boss, you've been euphoric since we left Ganymede. (Coy, posing:) What'cha up to? Got some devious plan? Baby, what's the big surprise?
DIABLO
(Quickly putting a seemingly-stupid history book away...) Dear Ruby, my first, the oldest.
PROPERTY: BOOK TITLE -THE EPIC HISTORY OF POST-MODERN DECADENCE
CUT TO: RUBY’S POV
RED & BASTARD AMBER GEL
STACKED ZOOM: THREE-TIER, STAGGERED ZOOM FROM MS TO ECU BOOK TITLE
CG: ROMAN ELECTRONIC FONT IN RED HUE
STILL FRAME: TITLE KEYSTONED:THE EPIC HISTORY OF POST-MODERN DECADENCE
OUTLINED, RE-POSITIONED, IDENTIFIED -- FLASH TITLE IN DEEP RED/MAROON
CG: Book, 1830 pages. Copyright 2014, SAVATREE E-Publishing. Alexandria, Inc. All rights reserved.
CG2: IDENTIFIED: History, Post-modern decadence, post-modern, decadence.
CG3: (Ad Lib, various shades of red in various fonts; RUBY’S scrolling catalog of everything known concerning the subject.)
CG4: (“Amber” in deep yellow outlined with red:) SUMMARY: Search inconclusive, cross-reference Amber.
PAUSE/STILL FRAME:69 frames
FLASH FRAME
CUT TO: THIRD-PERSON POV, MS
DIABLO (Cont’d)
(Thinking they’re alone, smells her hair, moves-in; never gets the chance) Though your memory banks seem vintage to those of your younger sisters-
(AMBER makes herself visible, leaning casually on something else invisible, yet very comfortable, like a levitating bean-bag chair or something. DIABLO is only surprised in the least sort-of-way, and pretends to clinically inspect RUBY’S hair for fineness, and mindlessly rubs it between her forefinger and thumb.)
DIABLO (Cont’d)
Yes, Amber, come with a thought!
(AMBER wears a yellow and white tank-top covering her lacy, yellow bra and dark-yellow and white, madras shorts with yellow and white sandals completing the look. She had been sitting there the whole time, casually-chewing gum and blowing bubbles. Looks up from a technical manual on Self-replicating Bio-nodes for Colonization Agrinomics and Habitat Ekistics; i.e. a robot’s idea of Home & Garden. Pops bubble, reflecting on what she just downloaded from RUBY concerning post-modern decadence, casually pulls at her two yellow scarves and her one orange scarf still tightly-holding her ponytail and looks at DIABLO flatly, goes back to reading book and chomping bubble gum.)
AMBER
Boss, that's pretty heady stuff. (Turns magazine page.) I thought we we're going to Earth for a vacation.
DIABLO
(Turning toward wall, wringing her hands-) Blasting that pathetic little moon will BE a vacation.
(DIABLO smiles and raises her eyebrows.)
JADE
(Materializes through the wall in front of her, gentle sparks eminating from her heiroglyphic/holographic gown:) So what’s this plan all about, Professor?
DIABLO
(Paces, shoots a glance at RUBY.) Well, if you all must know, I'm going after Central Command, and most of all, after that crusading Kaptain Kool and his confounded cohorts!
(DIABLO Stops, almost walks into PEARL, who wasn’t there before. PEARL is decked out in a Jackie Kennedy-type pageant formal, sans sash.)
PEARL
Oh Doctor, I love it when you use alliterations.
(Beams a dazzling smile like a prom queen.)
CU: PEARL’S PEARLY WHITES
STARLIGHT FILTER
RACK FOCUS
ZOOM OUT
PETROLEUM-JELLY-ON-LENS EFFECT
DIABLO
No time for that now- Darling.
ZOOM IN
CU DIABLO
(Can’t quite let go of the last thought, but manages to, raising an index finger.)
DIABLO (Cont’d)
(Turns away-) Ruby, get the rest of the slotbots up here where I can keep an eye on-
CUT TO: PROFILE; RUBY AND DIABLO FACING ONE ANOTHER
CUT TO: CU, RUBY’S EXTRA-THICK MASCARA, SLOWLY BLINKING, LIDS HEAVY
DIABLO (Cont’d)
...All of you. I'm going to release the destructobots soon and I don't want any of my precious toys to needlessly get damaged.
(Leans in, clinically inspecting her deep-rose-colored lips -- secreting an extra-thick layer of custom-made, translucent, Diablo-Deep-Plum & Diablo-Cadmium-Red Swirling Blend Of Passion Lip Gloss.)
RUBY
(Can’t resist, kisses her. Long pause. Smiles.) Whatever you say, boss.
(Her eyes flicker light as a message is relayed telepathically to the other slotbots. All of RUBY’S patent sounds emanate from her; roulette wheel, poker chips, slot machine, shuffling cards --as she saunters across the room a few feet away. DIABLO breaks from following gaze, sees a much larger-than life, yet slowly shrinking, full moon overhead through the see-through tinting on the ORB OF DOOM’S half-mile canopy.)
DIABLO
Luna! Luna will be mine! Ha! Ha!
OPAL
Opal reporting, mam.
(Sounds of drinks being served, pouring liquids, squishy sounds, bong rips, ice hitting the glass.)
GOLDIE
Goldie reporting, mam.
(Jazz plays, light saxophone leads.)
COPPER
Copper, on the scene, mam.
(Her eyes flicker toward RUBY, they communicate something unseen. Electric arcs and sophisticated computer sounds from COPPER.)
DIABLO
Amber, Jade! Program these instructions into the ship ... and release the destructobots!
AMBER & JADE
Yes, mam.
(Gears, pulleys, card-in-spokes, stones sliding and noises from spools of film reels sound off, respectively.)
DIABLO
(At her work table.) This old map of Los Angeles; it verifies what we've thought all along --those Neanderthals in the twentieth century actually did have the technology ... and they used lots and lots of gold.
RUBY
I don't understand, boss. Why gold? (Short beat, excited, wide-eyed, smiling, sudden:) Are we going on another mining expedition?
DIABLO
(Turns, less distracted, silence. Slowly realizes RUBY’S misunderstanding and smiles, nicely surprised, stops turning head, looks at her.) Why Ruby, I thought it would be obvious to you. Not now, Pearl, I'm on a roll.
(DIABLO stands, turns to RUBY and others. The set darkens throughout.)
ZOOM IN: CU, DIABLO
DIABLO (Cont’d)
(DIABLO seems to lose everyone’s attention during the following lines, save RUBY, who is attentive since it was her question...) Yes, I'm after something even more valuable than gold, another kind of nugget from a precious vein. Why, the fact that you ask ... how individual and creative you are! It’s like magic; and it’s that magic that I’m after. You wanna know my plan, baby? It’s as foolproof as it gets, not the usual fix. The gold we’re after, my dear, is found in a very particular quarry, and no one has even bothered to dig it up. And it’s there, all right ... true trivia of its time, if not for all time. A place with gems... (All suddenly look at DIABLO. Pause -- perhaps she used the wrong word-) ...that could make one like you... (Another pause, longer. The others catch her self-betraying side glance to the SECRET PROJECT IN CORNER OF ORB OF DOOM behind the SECRET CURTAIN and her realization they are all watching her -- robots don’t miss much. Looks to RUBY, softly:) ...invincible.
COPPER
(Keeping her on the subject:) Well, that’s nice, (half-decently polite pause...) so, is that why you're building -- her?
(Her eyes flicker and COPPER gestures to the recently-installed SECRET CURTAIN, pressure visibly released in the other robots, since COPPER came out with what has kept their collective curiosity occupied lately.)
CUT TO: COPPER’S POV
BASTARD AMBER 2x GEL
CUT TO: X-RAY VISION effect to SECRET PROJECT IN CORNER OF ORB OF DOOM seen through scrim and various light effects
CUT TO: MS, OPAL
OPAL
(Gets it:) You're replacing us? What’s going to happen to our weekends?
(Leans in, all robotic eyes flicker a firestorm.)
DIABLO
(Pause. Calmly in control during a near-militant mutiny.) Replacing? No, no, my dear, I’m not replacing you; (Slowly sips drink.) I’m not replacing any of you, as... (Pause, finding the word...) dear to my heart as all of you are. (Lights a smoke, no trace of sweat or hesitation, large inhale, beat, exhale, half-beat.) Why, did my lips not know the kiss of Ruby only a moment ago?
(ALL look to RUBY.)
DIABLO (Cont’d)
(Gaining momentum:) A kiss as sweet and pure as when she first caught-up with me on the shores of the Isle of Dread -- ponder this, ladies: If my infinite love for all of you is equal when there’s seven of you, how can I love any of you any less when there’s eight? (The artificial eyes flicker and fade; DIABLO’S enigmatic logic has prevailed.) Now Copper, my latest stroke of perfection, will you and Goldie get off your... (Pause, can’t find a better euphemism.) ...duffs... (Pause & beat.) ...and go help Amber and Jade in the...
(DIABLO waves in a direction toward an exit away from the SECRET CURTAIN. They follow her gesture; confused, but not angry -- DIABLO moves toward the SECRET CURTAIN, pauses. RUBY studies her while keeping her own poker-face to the end of the scene.)
DIABLO (Cont’d)
As for her, she will be finished soon, and I have a different mission in mind for her entirely. The moon will soon be mine! Ha! Ha! Ha!
AUDIO REVERB: DIABLO’S EVIL CACKLE
MUSIC UP
PEDESTAL UP
TILT DOWN
DOLLY OUT
POV: THE MOON OR THEREABOUTS
WS, FROM TOP OF ORB OF DOOM SHOWING DIABLO LOOKING UP, LAUGHING
ZOOM OUT
FTB