Scene 6.09 - Meet The Villains
EXT. GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(HOME PLANET OF HOUSE NARC-ON-EM - As seen from space, the grimy planet as we saw on PORSCHE'S U-POD.)EXT. GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(The surface of the planet is a vast sea of bird dung. Millions of birds fly about in great flocks. Bugs also swarm about with plentiful abundance, eagerly eaten by the hungry birds. A small cable car traverses high above the sea toward a gigantic black, crap-speckled city in the shape of a rectangular box over 100 stories high. Pigeons abound and dung rains here and there like an occasional cloudburst. Everything has mold, mildew or rust. Before the city there are rows of huge poop-stained, towering steel heads atop massive furnaces. Sick smoke billows out of their mouths.)
INT. BOUNCING CABLE CAR - GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(Inside the beat-booming cable car crunks PITTER-PATTER. In one hand he holds the cylinder with DUKE CHEETO'S ring imprint. He ingests the spice through a small water pipe. He's blasted; obliterated! Kids, this is what happens when you mix a supercomputer with the D.N.A. of Bob Marley, Bob Barker, Jack The Ripper, Jack Black, Billy Jack, Jack Nicholson, Michael Jackson, Jackie Onassis, Jack-N-Jill, Marcel Marceau, Eminem and Soupy Sales. Believe me, some things just weren't meant to exist in nature. The monstrousness of one like PITTER-PATTER PATTIE CON FRIES exists only in a universe totally-out-of-balance with itself. In a sick-and-twisted, villainous way, though, he's still quite cool, despite his sick mind, his limited longevity and an absence of any substantial lines or time on his act other than this one brief shot and the other one where he's like a total pervo. But I digress...)
PITTER-PATTER
It is by will alone I spit my rap like this all freestyle. It is by the juice of Afro that thoughts acquire speed to go annudda mile - Yo, the hair acquires sheen - Like a glossy magazine, (He hits deeply, his face glows with shine:) Yo, the sheen becomes a warnin', I be hung-over all mornin' (Puts down pipe, gets really physical, shakes his dread-locks.) It is by will alone I spit my rap like this, no I don't diss, I pile my miles of files in pretty piles and judge them all like the Nuremberg Trials; All freestyle, don't turn dat dial, gonna file on the tile with a profile smile to rile the vile Baron's weak wile (head spin) while shakin' and takin' and breakin' and rakin', yo, all-the-while fakin' for goodness-sakin' the Baron Von Simpleton be vampire-stakin', (Back up, moonwalks, gets pipe:) Yo, makin' and quakin' while I'm wakin'-and-bakin'. (Hits.) Word. (Hits.) Yo.
(Like I said; unbalanced and patently offensive. And evil.)
INT. GREEN PORCELAIN ROOM - GREEDY GRIME
(Somewhere in the interior of Greedy Grime, we are in a green porcelain smokehouse. Two large, white-wide-brim-hat-wearing Narc-On-Em soldiers, using large hoses, are washing down the walls and floors of the room. We move downward into the water rushing along the floor towards troughs. Closer, we see bits of stems, seeds, and pot resin. It's homegrown schwag and the foul stench only confirms that this year's crop was extra seedy and couldn't get you off if you smoked a pound of it -- which is exactly what THE BREAST RUB-ON is trying to do -- in spades. He's got a blunt that rivals footballs.)
CU: Master chonging of colossal, Narc-On-Em blunt.
ZOOM OUT
(...I mean, football uprights. Yeah; the goalpost.)
MS: Colossal blunt, smoked-down to nine feet long and one foot wide, tapering to an actual, cut-cigar-football shape.
EXT. GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(The car zooms past gigantic faces, and the furnaces far below roar with tremendous power. The city now looms gigantic and overpowering -- millions of electrical cables, serving as various bird perches, stretch off the top into dark energy taps above the city.)
INT. GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(Inside the city the cable car passes into a huge inner chamber filled with open-topped lime green porcelain rooms with tremendous electrical lines criss-crossing above, birds and all. Haven't these people heard of window panes?)
INT. BARON'S ROOM - GREEDY GRIME - DAY
(In front of a huge steam boiler, the cable car stops and PITTER-PATTER gets out, steps down steel stairs and enters a porcelain room. The Baron is sickly and hugely fat and sweaty and looks like he has been for some time. No sores on his face, though, it's just too darn gross. He turns to look at his mental as PITTER-PATTER enters the room.)
PITTER-PATTER
(Dodges a pink-and purple-yolked white whopper from above:) My Lord!
(...Pigeon wire?)
BARON
Pitter-Patter.
(PITTER-PATTER crunks up to the Baron, dodging the wet hailstorm until he's under the stained canopy.)
PITTER-PATTER
The Mercedes clan will be leaving Calderon soon, Baron, and I have here your answer from your distant cousin, Duke Cheeto.
POV: Bird Dung
(A loose one from a big bird with excellent eyesight on a bombing run far, far above misses several other, criss-crossing, electrical-line perches and gets a deep angle on the small canopy hole in the center and it tries for the BARON'S head, just misses and hits the blunt being smoked by RUB-ON. Right on the foot-wide cherry. It sizzles and cooks and saturates the leafy ash. Now that's gross. RUB-ON shrugs and keeps toking.)
BARON
What does Cheeto say, Pitter?
(...Cats?)
PITTER-PATTER
He doesn't even greet you with a proper title, Baron, just Narc-On-Em-
(Let's just say the canopy isn't fooling anyone. The birds know what's up. The white-polka-dotted guys with the hoses can attest to that. Fat lot of good a canopy did them. On Greedy Grime, gnats in your face, flies at your ear, wasps at your tail and bird poop from above are a way of life. I guess none of them ever read Silent Spring.)
BARON
What does it say, Mental? Spit it out! (Inner voice:) I may need to aquire a new Mental; this one has nearly outlived his usefulness...
PITTER-PATTER
(Slow, patient:) He wishes to inform you that Vendetta -- as he puts it, using the ancient tongue, the Art of Kanly -- is still alive. He does not wish to meet or speak with you. (Pause.) Also, apparently, your pet goldfish died.
BARON
Scaley? (Pause. Swallowing; angry:) I made my peace gesture... the forms of Kanly have been obeyed.
PITTER-PATTER
(Looking to the others:) Best yet, he signed it Duke Cheeto of Darukkus! Isn't that the most?
BARON
(Inner voice:) He's cheesin' too much to my nephews -- I need a Mental who doesn't suck-up to others so easily. (To PITTER:) Blah, blah, blah -- you got any other news, boy?
(The BARON throws down the cylinder. It clangs away into the resin trough.)
PITTER-PATTER
(Boy? Serious:) As you instructed me, I have enlightened your nephews concerning my plan t...
BARON
My plan!
PITTER-PATTER
The plan to crush House Mercedes. Frayed, Rub-On... go quietly... no other great house of the Rad Lands must ever know of the Emperor's aid to the Baron. If they did, the Rad Lands would turn against the Baron and the Emperor and we'd all be in a world of hurt.
(RUB-ON chongs on his massive blunt, disliking the taste. We wonder why. Wastefully, he chucks the long roach into the dark water trough running through the center of the room.)
BARON
I will have Darukkus back for myself... he who controls Simoleon Spice, controls The Universe... and what Pitter didn't tell you is we have control of someone who is very close to Duke Cheeto. This person... this traitor... will be worth more to us than ten legions of Sativa Warriors.
FRAYED
Who is the traitor, Uncle?
BARON
(Laughs:) I won't tell you who the traitor is or when we'll attack. However, the Duke will die before these eyes and he'll know that it is I -- Baron Gregor Narc-On-Em -- who encompasses his doom.
(They all begin a sick circle-jerk of villainous laughter. Take your time. Milk it. Go over the top.)
FTB