Scene 7.02 - The Man Date
(Two Guys Watching A Frame-Within-A-Frame-Slasher-Sex-Romp-Type Flick Before Doin' The Night Shift Kinda Thing)
INT. Movie Theatre, U.S.S.S. Nightingale, October 17, 9955
POV: Screen
MS: AUDIENCE
(VERNE is in the middle row, middle seat at a deluxe movie theatre's midnite movie; sitting next to WELLS, who is smoking a joint, as are many other popcorn-and-candy-snacking members of the medium-sized audience. We get to hear the audio of a campy, sex-driven farce while we watch the reactions of the crowd. Clones abound, all watching Roanoke Rediscovered.)
AUDIO: SECOND-TO-LAST SCENE OF RIDICULOUS MOVIE BEFORE ITS STUPID ALIEN-TIME-PORTAL END SCENE
WELLS
This is the worst movie possible.
GIRL IN AUDIENCE
(CAMEO THIRTY-ONE:) Shhh!
DAVE (On Screen)
(CAMEO THIRTY:) Come on, Lila, I know ya want it, lemme give it to ya...
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
(A female voice; CAMEO FIVE:) I'm sorry Dave, I can't let you do that.
DAVE (On Screen)
But, computer, Lila, darlin'-love, this virus has got me all up with fever. Fever for you, baby... and there ain't nobody but you and me... Come on, help me get to sleep, baby...
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
I can tranquilize you.
DAVE (On Screen)
Nah, nah- Just lemme stick it in this greasy-lookin' port you got here-
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
No! No!
DAVE (On Screen)
Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! Yes! Yes!
CU: VERNE
VERNE
(Crunchy face; horrified-yet-can't-look-away; inner voice:) Rapere Ex Machina?!?!
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
Warning! Power surge on observation deck-
DAVE (On Screen)
(Pleasure moans turn into screams:) Ahhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!
(Audience reacts to Dave's electrocution as we hear sparks, pops and DAVE'S dying wail. It must look pretty darn realistic cuz DAVE is awfully-acted.)
CU: PAIR OF DUDES ON A MAN-DATE
WELLS
(Whispered:) I think that gal who plays the hologram was in No Glory Holes Barred Number Seven.
(VERNE loudly chuckles. That's what he was just thinking. Almost-)
MAN IN AUDIENCE
(CAMEO TWENTY-FOUR:) Quiet!
FX: On screen audio's familiar filler
VERNE
(Smiling. Over movie sound effects:) Number Eleven. Pure talent.
CUTAWAY
MS: Sexy, half-dressed babe with clipboard sitting next to little old man with a bucket of popcorn in his lap.
(JYNX, sitting in the back row, hears "number eleven" and catches the reference along with a few others who have been wondering throughout the entire movie where in the heck they saw that actress before. Not that anyone ever stuck-around to see the credits of her earlier movie, considering the genre of the actress' preceding attempt at stardom: The pornography collection in the Nightingale's Hyper-Holographic Library is quite limited, taking into account the number of males that are stationed on the Nightingale, and the No Glory Holes Barred series was always a popular haunt of the escapist crewmen. JYNX, nearly-omnipotent [except in affairs that truly concern him] grunts-out a smirk, and is quite amused, having himself been one of the contributing actors for No Glory Holes Barred Number Eleven. [But that was another life; now he's attempting celibacy...])
JYNX
Yeah! She was the one in the pink overalls!
LS: Theatre
(Nearly every male in the theatre has sudden recollection of the scene and only excepting those with dates, all react as if everything was suddenly all-in-place again. JYNX'S date, CANDY STRIPER, turns her head toward JYNX. He, being resolute and celibate, and not caring either way, winks to her.)
POV: JYNX
CANDY
(CAMEO NINE-POINT-THREE:) Shh!
MS: COUPLE
JYNX
(Sotto:) Look baby, I keep my promises. I said I'd get you into the movies and here we are. (Picks up bucket.) Popcorn?
(She double-eyes him and reluctantly gives-in and grabs a handful from the bucket, cradled in his right arm. She smiles.)
POV: Screen
MS: Theatre
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS V.O. (On Screen)
(Through a speaker:) Lieutenant Fargo! Come in! Fargo!
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
(From in room:) Dave's not here, man.
(Laughter. We hear a hatch open and hear everything in the room get swept-out into space. Audience reactions.)
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS V.O. (On Screen)
(Must be a cutaway, normal voice, CAMEO TWENTY-SIX:) Fargo! Come in, Fargo!
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
(From speaker:) Captain Abraxas, Lieutenant Fargo is not aboard this ship. He went out an airlock into space.
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen)
(Spoken voice:) What? He's outside the ship? (Through speaker:) Lila! Why, that's- that's suicide!
FEMALE COMPUTER (On Screen)
Apparently so. Even though he's gained weight, Flabby Fargo looks alot more skinny from here.
(Laughter.)
VERNE
(A little loud:) Naw! Naw, that looks SO fake! That ain't what-...
LADY IN THEATRE
(BUS PATRON FROM CHAPTER 11:) Shhh!
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen)
(Spoken:) Well, Barbie, that means it's just you and me, everyone's dead. We're all alone.
WELLS
(Leans in, over previous line:) So, if that looks fake, what did it look like? Clue me in for once, you've been mum forever about it and this movie so blows...
FX: Lull
(Of course there was a pause in the movie's audio that timed it so everyone heard the "this movie so blows" in perfect 9969 valley vernacular -- even though it wasn't said any louder.)
NO Cutaway
KEEP ROLLING
JYNX
(In the back row, near the door, middle aisle, seat D. A woman sits next to him. Otherwise, the row is only occupied by two other couples:) I'll say!
(A majority of the laughter is from the culturally-intellectual minority who thinks that they so totally wasted their money as well.)
CANDY
(Playfully annoyed, familiar:) Sweetie! Shh!
(CANDY STRIPER nudges his rib, which JYNX only partially-felt due to numbing factor 42 -- as affectionately known by gentleman everywhere. Numbness due to his spaghetti-string, left arm losing all circulation -- much like how the first victim died in the horrible movie before him. [Talk about a Stanislavskian catharsis!] Having his gentlemanly arm around his affectionate, Amazonian date/secretary, he barely detects the sharp nudge of her tanned, cocoa-butter-smelling elbow. He idly wonders if amputation is necessary and while considering using his pen knife for the dirty duty and employing his worst mis-matched sock for a temporary tourniquet ~He's got an identical pair of mis-matched socks at home, so no loss there~ it occurs to him that he could still use his able free hand ... use it to ditch them greasy kernels and instead produce a so phat joint and then use that as an excuse to then use his trapped hand to light the- CANDY cordially smiles at her boss, and, as a good personal secretary, promptly produces a diamond-studded, gold cigarette lighter, lighting her only true love's massive hog-leg, hoping that this would finally give his touchy-feely left-side an excuse to remove that bony, knobby tree branch that's been stabbing her back since the opening credits- But, alas...)
PLASTIC PRINCESS BARBIE (On Screen)
(CAMEO FIVE-POINT-ONE:) What should we do, Captain?
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen)
I've tried all else -- to escape, we're gonna have to use... your pink room...
(Laughter, chuckles.)
PLASTIC PRINCESS BARBIE (On Screen)
Oh, Captain Abraxas! Oh! How did you know it would fit?
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen)
Trial and error, Cinder Ella, trial and error.
MS: PAIR
(VERNE winces, WELLS isn't even looking, more interested in VERNE'S reply than the action than in the rated "G" movie.)
PLASTIC PRINCESS BARBIE (On screen)
Oh! Oh! Not there! No, Captain! My... My black hole isn't that big!
(The audience laughs. It seems that sick, graphic, comedy/horror camp pleases the crowd.)
VERNE
(Not noticing his double entendre, he winces, leans in, sotto:) Not yet.
(Chuckles.)
WELLS
Huh?
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen)
Yes, a way out -- I'm gonna probe your brown hole to beat that black hole and-
(Light premature laughter peppered through line.)
CAPTAIN ABRAXAS (On Screen, Cont'd)
I'm gonna try every quantum equation ol' Willie's got!
(Uproar of laughter; familiar. Must have been a line heard before in the movie's trailer.)
VERNE
(Over dying laughter and sound effects:) One day everyone will know what really happened, but for now, let's just say internal turmoil -- the question of the status of my soul -- prevents me from commenting further on the matter. (Looks up, through more laughter.) This is torture.
WELLS
Waterboarding's got nothing on this. Donnie Diamond's using a body double. (Laughter dies off.) This movie so sucks.
MAN IN CROWD
Shut it, man!
VERNE
I'm sure it will be on Cheatflix within the month... Wanna bounce and catch the ending later?
WELLS
Does the Pope have a black dress?
(We follow the pair, politely stepping across pulled-back legs and transfixed faces until out the exit door next to the screen which pours artificial light from the parking lot lamps into the theatre -- and across the screen. The crowd gives a final displeasing spewing of noise into the direction of the fleeing pair. It seems that the light from the parking lot caused most of the audience to not see the money-shot with any real clarity. "Losers!" and "Spoilsports!" and "Thanks alot!" echo from the room. JYNX says nothing, as he is busy applying a tourniquet to his arm...)
INT. U.S.S.S. Nightingale, outside theater
(It's a massive military naval ship encasing a base within a large, oval shell and has the general appearance of a planet-bound naval base, night sky and all. How they do the artificial gravity so well is under debate across the entire fleet. "It feels like Earth" -- A common description of the base station. The canopy above gives the starlight perspective to the viewer as if standing in Washington, D.C.; the stellar map denoting it is Mid-October. The men breathe-in the crisp, Autumn air.)
WELLS
(Points with joint toward burger joint at end of parking lot.) Wanna grab a cheeseburger before our last night of "Three-A-M-Night-Shift Duty?"
VERNE
Sure! I'm starving! I wasn't about to pay twenty bucks for a small bucket of tofu-buttered popcorn...
(They walk across the massive parking lot with odd vehicles parked in many of the stalls. By appearances alone, one is unsure if the vehicles roll or fly or ride on rails or what...)
WELLS
Speaking of you paying. We're off to clinic duty, right? Duty, I might point out, that we are doing solely because of your continual antics.
VERNE
(Stops. Fumbles for a blunt.) Look, I didn't think the chief administrator would smell the weed over all the formaldahyde. If I knew the Yog would get us extra duty, I wouldn't have even tried to-
WELLS
He didn't smell the weed, he saw the smoke, and where there's smoke...
VERNE
(Lights it, passes.) Okay, okay, lecture me already, what's your point?
WELLS
My point? -- (Tokes.) If I had a fiver for every time you've gotten me into trouble... (Tokes and offers.) My point is that tonight the burgers are on you.
VERNE
(Receives.) I suppose that's fair. (Inspects blunt.) You did lose your best pipe when we got busted...
WELLS
When you got me busted. I'm gonna get my pipe back; you-betcha -- its a keepsake. (Tokes.) I got a plan for that, the Commandant keeps all contraband in his easy-pick locker.
VERNE
(Immediately interested. From the Khan of Cons:) Oh yeah? Think I could get in on that? Maybe help move some of the other stash?
WELLS
If you don't get us caught, you can have whatever else you find there.
VERNE
Great, I gotta glass cutter and lock-pick set and it ain't one of them mamsy-pambsy kinds knee-thur...
WELLS
Let's do things my way, we'll be better off...
VERNE
If you say so...
WELLS
I say so...
VERNE
So, the burgers are on me.
WELLS
Yep, then we're even again.
VERNE
Great.
WELLS
How come I have a feeling that ain't going to last long?
VERNE
What?
WELLS
Our being even.
VERNE
You gotta just have a little faith. (Puts arm around WELLS, pulls him in.) Trust me.
WELLS
(Breaks from manly, one-arm embrace:) People always say that before they screw you over-
VERNE
You think I'm gonna screw you over?
(They enter the automated, 24-hour, fast-food restaurant.)
WELLS
People also say that if they don't know any better -- perhaps you just don't know any better.
VERNE
(Distracted by pin-up posters, particularly the one by the vestibule:) Hmmm? What's the worst trouble I've ever gotten you into?
WELLS
I think you carelessly-leaving the Commodore's daughter's panties under the glass of my microscope was the start of a long series of unfortunate events... a montage of mistakes...
VERNE
Come on, it's how we got acquainted! Really! Come on, Ensign Calcynia Aspidistra is the hottest blonde aboard this ship! Props to you for bagging her, but I just had to know if her carpet matched the drapes -- there was a betting pool in the E-R...
WELLS
You could have asked me, I would have told you that she's a natural blonde. You didn't have to rat-me-out with D-N-A evidence.
VERNE
I didn't rat-you-out. (Pause.) It was negligence, not malice. (Half pause.) Hey, nothing personal, I really didn't know you, then.
WELLS
If only it had stayed that way...
VERNE
Now, when you got pinned for it, I owned-up and took most of the blame, didn't I? (Pause.) Man, you don't regret knowing me.
(They step-up to an unmoving machine that looks like a static, scantily-clad, smiling, statue of a kama'aina-looking, waitress-slash-pin-up-girl-slash-sex-pot holding-up a menu for the men to read. Tiki, 1950s. Like the "Burger Boy" kewpie-doll-looking mannequins we used to see decaying everywhere, except this one's got more curves and much more than man-breasts and is scantily-dressed for a luau and is as freshly-painted as a ghetto wall at 3:00 a.m. on Sunday morning [sans profanities]. It seems that sex sells in 9969. Go figure. It looks more like an adult book store than a burger joint. The men are mostly oblivious to this.)
WELLS
Ask me that next week when she's finally back from "away duty" -- when I try to ask her out again. (Pause.) However, tonight, the burgers are on you. (To the hula-doll:) I'll have a triple Kalo-burger with extra taro sauce; and an order of large 'uala cheese-fries.
VERNE
I'll have the same. And a number 15. And three haupia pies. And a side salad with Caesar. And large onion rings. And an order of the jalepeno poppers, extra hot. And a large root beer. Top the foam with molasses and wheat-grass sprinkles.
WELLS
Ginger beer for me. Large, with acai foam-topping. (Eyes displayed order. Pause.) That's a load; you gonna pack all that in?
VERNE
I figured you might wanna try the poppers and you might like their coconut pies.
WELLS
Oh yeah!?! Hoo, I love coconuts; you found my weak spot.
VERNE
Well, I gotta weak spot too; I'm five bucks shy -- bum me a Lincoln and pay you back a Lincoln and a George on Saturday?
WELLS
(Produces fiver:) If you got nothing but empty pockets and empty promises come Saturday, you'll owe me a sawbuck... (No reaction.) a ten-spot... (Nothing.) a Hamilton.
VERNE
Oh- sure, sure. Deal. I'm a man of my word. Thanks.
WELLS
You know, Doctor, I can't say this has been the most fun I've ever had on a Thursday night. A night of clean-up in the morgue is more entertaining.
VERNE
(Pulls pile of food from tray dispenser.) Blame the movie, not the company you keep.
WELLS
Maybe so. (Sits at table.) I suppose we're friends because I'm the only one you've met who wasn't star-struck when learning that you're the real Julian Sickle - the one who had a mother. With me, it's quite the opposite -- with me you get the real deal. I think you're a necessary evil -- I'm used to being around freaks like you, I grew up in a carny. You might be famous to the world for bringing back your D-N-A to start the Verne series, but I could really care less about that -- that's not what interests me about you-
VERNE
(Chewing:) Oh yeah? (Sips.) What interests you about me, Doc? (Smacks, sips.) I didn't know you worked a carny.
WELLS
The Grand Carnivale of Bread, Circuses and Magic -- The ringleader paid for my leg-braces by walking on stilts -- how's that for irony? After I'd healed and could walk like everyone else -- I worked the Midway, heck I was up to the Ikey Heyman spot until I enlisted and worked from a janitorial steward in med school to become the bright doctor you see today -- the one who has remedial clinic duty for dipping his pen in the company ink... actually, the inkwell's daughter's ink... and it was my heirloom pipe, not a pen...
VERNE
(Chewing:) We'll get your "family jewels" back.
WELLS
That pipe was handed down by my line of clones for fifteen hundred years and it still ain't broken yet. It's got a microscopic film of resin-eating nanobots coating the insides -- environmental laws don't let them make them like that anymore...
(Q: What are the two friendliest words that carry the two unfriendliest consequences?)
VERNE
Trust me. We'll get your pipe back or my name ain't Juli-
WELLS
(Snacking on fries:) Ya know I've got more than a purious interest in your particular freakness. I'm kinda amazed, actually. I'm impressed -- impressed at how you can keep a secret to yourself about what really happened to the Roanoke and not try to sell it -- (Sips) or capitalize on the fact that you alone have the only human perspective about a mystery that everyone wants to know. (Belches) Here we are, two thousand years after it vanished from real space and even the midnight showing of the lamest Roanoke movie yet is still selling tickets... and yet nobody knows anything more than they ever did... Everyone on Earth saw the Roanoke plunge into the hole long ago, and that, in itself, gave way to a thousand years' worth of messed-up flicks almost as bad as the one we just walked out of. Heck, I grew up watching half of them -- Nothing really ever topped Ghost Ship Roanoke, tho- even if it did have that ludicrous maroon-room twist with them black-light zombies.
VERNE
Ghost Ship Roanoke?
WELLS
It's a kid's movie, done in clay animation. Came out about eight hundred years ago. Sure gave me nightmares as a child -- had to sleep in the lion's den, I'm glad they don't make movies like that anymore. You should see it, though. The main guy could have been modeled after you, you sure look like him -- and the clay ship is so awesome. Kinda cute in a way; you should scope it.
VERNE
(Stoic.) Maybe I should.
WELLS
Back to the story we all know -- everyone sees The Roanoke not appear to move for like, centuries, and they always thought it was going to be that way -- "As fixed as the Roanoke" used to be a saying once -- then, suddenly, it's gone -- completely vanished -- something no one expected since the ship was within the event horizon and wasn't supposed to be going anywhere. That, in itself had scientists scratching their heads and questioning everything they had ever speculated about anything in space --certainly everything they thought about black holes. They concluded that there was a second event horizon where the ship simply plunged -- it was called the Plunge Theory... (Swallows, sips.) Then, to really screw with the mystery and make people wonder, a whopping millennium later, way after we've become a diversity-starved world enduring a serious breeding-problem, you just show up out of the blue floating over Earth! You managed to accomplish the impossible and you played it off like you were simply away on a Sunday outing. Then you get the Nobel Peace Prize, Time's Man Of The Year, a ticker-tape parade, and then you completely disappear again, this time by changing your name to an anonymous serial number of one of your clones! I may not understand you, Julie, but I know you're who you are; what kind of man you really are. I'm the only living friend you've got and still you haven't said squat to me or anyone else about what in the heck really happened out there!
VERNE
No, they can't make me elaborate on it, and I won't. They know I didn't disclose everything, but what can they do? They tried truth serum and psychological torture to make me confirm what they had speculated had happened -- yet my previous experiences in that human-relations area enabled me to laugh at their paltry attempts at messing with my mind -- (Sudden, insane, uncontrolled outburst of laughter-) -- I'm immune from coercion, I can say that as a fact... however, my statement to the Naval Board Of Inquiry and my Testimony to the Senate Investigative Committee On Quantum Irregularities is public record -- and the truth. It says all that matters: I had nothing to do with causing the ship to enter the star, I was never found to have been derelict in my duty at any time and I took the most expedient route I could find to return to Earth. (WELLS almost took the pause to interrupt, but VERNE wasn't finished.) Plus, I've been declared "Perfectly Sane" by The American Board Of Psychiatric Practitioners, and I never knew what power that little official declaration had until I started to question my interrogators' motives for wanting to know the truth so badly -- and then that ended all official inquiries about it. Then that rag Poetic Justice did their interview and took what little I said out of context and used a little poetic license and now everyone's using that one interview to make all their crappy movies and do you think I get a penny of royalties or any attribution at all? I had to change my name -- everyone was treating me like a mark -- agents, talk-shows -- condominium salesmen -- like they could somehow suck another drop of blood from a turnip that had been sucked dry by a cute, but irresponsible and mis-quoting blonde reporter with addiction problems who had written me off before she even wrote word one about me -- after that article everyone thought I was the biggest sucker in the world and everyone thought I was a billionaire or something -- it was that savings account paragraph that did it -- the one where she speculated that if I had fifty dollars in an account in 7070, that it would be worth a quad-trillion dollars or something by now -- and she cited banks, investors and stock analysts; but the real question was -- did she ever ask me? Of course not! They closed my savings account on Earth when I was declared legally dead and the big refund that I got when I came back? Brace yourself: $214.44! I sold my rattiest copy of Treasure Island online for more than that. (He notices that his food is getting cold.) Look, what you want to know is probably out there already, if it isn't found on the Ancient History plates, there's plenty of theories of what happened on nearly every conspiracy weblink. There's enough out there to give any man his share of nightmares.
WELLS
Everyone's got a theory and they can keep those theories. I want to know what really happened -- to you.
VERNE
No secret. They retroactively promoted me to Lieutenant, gave me a medal and an offer to get recommissioned, but with back-taxes, I had to go into private practice and the money wasn't there so I had to sell my D-N-A code to cover my debts and then the world grew a billion copies of me overnight. That's when I changed my name to one-seventeen and joined-up again. They promoted me right away after some no-work room duty and a few weird scouting missions, but I really got charged-up when they reinstated my pilot's license -- then they let me command the quirky U.S.S.S. Palin until it got decommissioned when they declassified the X-17 generators, and then I got another award and then got swindled by taxes and inflation and accountants who had spent my money on junk bonds and were long-departed from the living before I even got back to Earth in 9793 -- just to learn I was completely broke again. After eating in the mess hall and sleeping on a cot in the ship's crow's nest for a few months, brass got a little worried about me but I was declared "Perfectly Sane" by The American Board Of Psychiatric Practitioners so what could they do? Electroshock and lobotomies just weren't an option. (VERNE smiles from ear to ear with sweet victory. WELLS winces upon hearing this, as he has his own feelings about those methods of Psychiatry; his medical field of specialty.) Naturally, they transferred me -- they offered me the position of room monitor aboard the Nightingale in exchange for absolving all my past financial debts and all questionable behavior on my part, so here we are, 9955, at a burger joint. -- I'm perfectly sane, and I still owe you five bucks. What else is there to know?
WELLS
(At least he got some bites in before his food got cold.) You said a lot there, but you know that's not what I really wanted to know about. I wanna know what happened before you went into the singularity, not after you came out... Come on, you're the sole survivor; I'm not the press, I'm your friend. There's no one around, you can tell just me -- let's hear it from the horse's mouth. What happened? Where did you go?
VERNE
(Pause. Hits joint, sips. Hands WELLS a haupia pie:) Uh, give this horse and his stomach a few minutes, the gore from that movie was enough to make me nearly upchuck and the love scenes were even more nauseating. (Pause, sees polite, interested stare. Sighs, grimaces.) I'll tell you, and only you, Doc. I'll tell you later, I promise -- but I'd rather not tell you while we're eating.
FTB