Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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Maybe this will work after all.

Looks like it is possible to post the script on LJ without compromising integrity too much.

It appears that Livejournal can be published to using MMS with a little jiggering. Thanks to noumignon for the assist.

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                                   Why do they do that?

               INT. TALK SHOW SET -- EVENING

               The set is cheap-looking and brightly colored, with a big 
               fake cityscape window and maroon carpet.  At a big fake oak 
               desk sits 30-something LIAM, in an ugly brown suit, with 
               slicked back black hair and a creepy white smile.

                         Welcome back to "Why do they do that?"  
                         I'm your host Liam Ayer.  Let's get 
                         to the next question.

               Liam reaches down into a desk drawer and pulls out an 
               envelope, from which he extracts a blue piece of paper.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Jen, from Kansas City, writes: "Dear 
                         Liam.  We met a few months ago at a 
                         Chiefs game.  You invited me back to 
                         your hotel room where we were intimate 
                         for about 90 seconds and then you 
                         cried for about 15 minutes before 
                         falling asleep in my arms muttering 
                         "Hold me mommy." About 3 weeks later 
                         I developed this itching sensation 
                         in my-

               Liam balls the piece of paper up and attempts to throw it 
               away discreetly.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Whoops, how'd that get in there?  
                         Let's try another letter, shall we?

               Liam reaches into his desk and pulls out another envelope, 
               from which he extracts a white piece of paper.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Bryan, from Walla Walla Washington 

               Liam pauses for a second and looks up as if trying to remember 
               something.  He nods and turns back to the letter.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Bryan writes: "Dear Liam.  Printer 
                         ink is so expensive these days and 
                         it seems like each cartridge barely 
                         lasts a few weeks before I need a 
                         replacement.  Is this just a big 
                         scam, or is there a reason they charge 
                         so much?

               Liam puts the letter down and looks up towards the camera.  
               He gives a fake laugh.


                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Ha Ha.  You're telling me, Bryan.  
                         Why just the other day I was printing 
                         out these digital photographs that I 
                         get daily from the email and I barely 
                         made it through 10 days worth 
                         before...anyway.  Most people are 
                         like you, Bryan, and think that "Big 
                         Printer Ink" is out to get them like 
                         "Big Oil" or "Big Agribusiness." But 
                         ink isn't like food, Bryan, it's not 
                         made in a factory out of genetically 
                         modified ingredients and carcinogenic 
                         additives.  Would that it were, Bryan, 
                         would that it were.  No, printer ink 
                         is harvested from the sea by the 
                         noble ink fisherman.  His is an 
                         ancient way of life, tough and 
                         dangerous, but honorable indeed.  
                         Why printer ink fishing is one of 
                         the few vocations left that we can 
                         honestly say has not changed since 
                         the last millennium...

                                                                 CROSS FADE


               The set is small and cheaply made.  A rowboat with a fake-
               looking sail put in the middle has been placed on a stage 
               with some cardboard waves that have been painted inconsistent 
               shades of green and blue.  The background is slightly better 
               painted, with an expanse of sea followed by a forested 
               shoreline and a lighthouse in the back.  Every one in awhile 
               someone throws a bucket of water on to the set to simulate 
               spray.  In the boat are three men in stereotypical Gordon's 
               Fisherman style rainslickers.  One is an older gentleman, 
               CAPTAIN O'GRADY, perhaps in his 60's, with a long white beard.  
               He moves with a limp and speaks in an accent that's somewhere 
               between a thick New England accent and an Irish Brogue.  The 
               second man is younger, perhaps in his late 30's, with a 
               weathered face and a long knife scar on his cheek.  His name 
               is FRANCIS, and his voice is cigarette-habit raspy.  He is 
               attending to some fishing lines draped over the side of the 
               boat.  The third man is very young, maybe 19.  His name is 
               CODY, and he is sitting at a small desk set up in the center 
               of the boat with a computer and a printer.  The other two 
               men squeeze by as they go around the boat  A small white 
               text caption marks the scene as "Somewhere in the middle of 
               the Atlantic."

               Captain O'Grady and Francis scuttle around the boat checking 
               lines and bailing out parts of the boat.  About 10 seconds 
               into the scene Francis stops and calls out:

                         Captain O'Grady, we've got one.


               The captain perks up and starts over towards Francis, 
               squeezing past Cody's desk as the younger man barely notices 
               and keeps on typing.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Aye, I'll be there in a flash son.

               Captain O'Grady reaches Francis and together they lean over 
               the boat and start hauling at some netting.  As they pull a 
               bucket of 'spray' hits them across their bodies and faces 
               and O'Grady looks up in minor irritation.  They haul the net 
               in and turn to face the camera, pulling a fake squid from 
               the net.  Captain O'Grady examines it for a few moments.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)
                         Francis, my boy, it's Magenta, that 
                         most elusive of inks.  What a haul.  
                         Francis, you take care of it.  Cody, 
                         write her up.

               Francis pulls out a small ink cartridge from his pocket and 
               starts to squeeze a tiny stream of red ink from the squid 
               into the cartridge, careful to spill as little as possible 
               in the small unstable boat.  A bucket of 'spray' hits him in 
               the face.  Cody starts typing quickly on the computer keyboard 
               and working the mouse, while the captain continues around 
               the boat checking the netting.  Cody hits a button and the 
               printer sparks to life and starts spitting  out pages of 
               paper, some of which fly overboard.  Cody gathers the rest 
               up and starts stuffing them in the desk.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)
                         You know back in my day it was much 
                         simpler.  None of these environmental 
                         impact forms or registrations.  Oh 
                         how I long for the days of open sea 
                         and high adventure.

               Francis nods in agreement as he continues in his task.  A 
               bucket of spray hits the captain full in the face and spits 
               a mouthful out with a look of irritation.  Francis finishes 
               squeezing the ink out and throws the squid down into the 
               belly of the boat.

                         This cartridge is full, Captain.  I 
                         think that's a whole case now!

               The captain nods and goes over to Francis.  Together they 
               pull out a crate and open it.  They place the ink cartridge 
               in, slide the top shut, and start to nail it.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         How many is that, Cody?

               Cody presses a few buttons on the computer.


                         Looks like we've got 42 black, 18 
                         yellow, 14 blue, and 11 Magenta, 

               The captain nods.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         A good haul, a good haul indeed.  
                         We'll be home 'afore midnight men, 
                         and I wager there'll be a pint of 
                         ale and a warm wench waiting for 
                         each of us.

                         I'm still gay, captain.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Enough of that nonsense, boy.  We've 
                         all experimented now and again on 
                         the high seas, or that time in college 
                         when we had too much Kahlua.  You're 
                         not gay m'boy.  Gay men and seamen 
                         don't mix!

               Cody sighs and presses a few more keys on his computer.  A 
               bucket of spray hits Captain O'Grady in the face.  Francis 
               pulls out a telescope, unfurls it and starts looking around.

               At the other end of the boat one of the lines start jiggling 
               and Captain O'Grady goes over to it.  He starts pulling it 
               up and a female hand comes over the side.  A woman starts to 
               pull herself up on to the boat.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)

               Francis rushes over and together they kick at her hands and 
               face until she's driven back to the sea.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)
                         Away with ye, mermaid.  Ye'll nay be 
                         getting any of our precious ink!  
                         Back to the briny deep with ye and 
                         your drably colored top!

               Francis goes back to using his telescope.  Cody raises up 
               his body as if about to say something and gets hit in the 
               face with a bucket of spray.  He slumps back down and starts 
               typing on the computer.  Francis starts waving his arms with 

                         Captain!  Captain!

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         What is it son?



               Cody stops typing and the captain perks up.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Ye not be pulling me peg there 

                         No, I see the Jolly Roger!  It's 
                         pirates!  Pirates or...maybe goths.  
                         Sea goths?  Most likely pirates.

                Captain O'Grady pulls out a telescope of his own and peers 
               into it.  Cody types furiously.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Aye!  PIRATES!

               Twin buckets of spray hit Francis and him in the face.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)
                         They've got us, I'm afraid.  That 
                         boat looks faster than a Dublin whore, 
                         and we're laden down with precious 
                         ink.  Wave the white flag, Francis, 
                         we'll not be giving our lives for 
                         this cargo, no matter how many end 
                         of year financial reports go unprinted 
                         because of it.

               Francis reaches down into the boat and starts fiddling.  He 
               stands up with a grim look on his face.

                         I'm afraid I can't do that Captain.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Now now, I admire your courage young 
                         man, and truth is at your age I'd 
                         want to fight them too, but surrender 
                         is the better part of valor.

               Francis shakes his head.

                         No, I mean I can't do that, captain.

               He holds up a flag stained in a tie-dye pattern.

                                     FRANCIS (CONT'D)
                         The ink, it's stained the white flag 
                         right through.

               Captain O'Grady looks stricken.


                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Oh curse the life of an ink fisherman!  
                         What'll we do now?  Think quick my 
                         boys, they'll be on us.

                         What about a message in a bottle?

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Yes!  If we can't show them our flag 
                         we'll let the sea carry our words to 
                         them.  Quick, Cody, type this up.  
                         "Dear pirates, we surrender.  Please 
                         pillage us kindly and go in good 
                         health." I'll get to drinking the 

               Captain O'Grady pulls out a bottle and starts taking long 
               slugs from it.  Cody types furiously.  The whiskey bottle is 
               finished quickly and Cody starts hitting a button but the 
               printer just sits there making noises.

                         It's no good captain, we're out of 
                         toner!  I used the last of it up 
                         writing the report on the Magenta 

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Oh ink, you are a fickle mistress 

               All three men are hit in their faces by buckets of spray.  
               Cody types furiously.

                         By god captain, it looks like they're 
                         turning tail!  What's this?

               Captain O'Grady takes out his telescope and points it towards 
               where Francis is looking.

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Aye!  You're right son.  What's this 

                         I instant messaged them.  I said we 
                         were a treasury ship laden with 
                         freshly printed U.S. dollars.  Three 
                         million, to be precise, or the 
                         equivalent of forty Euro.  They're 

                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY
                         Cody, my boy, you've done it!  You've 
                         saved us and our precious cargo!


                                     CAPTAIN O'GRADY (CONT'D)
                         There'll be book reports aplenty 
                         printed out in town this week!  
                         Alright, turn her for home boys.  
                         Let's get this ink where it belongs.

               They stand around for a few moments and then Francis points 
               his telescope towards the backdrop.

                         LAND HO!

               Captain O'Grady gets hit in the face by a bucket of spray.

                                                                 CROSS FADE

               INT. TALK SHOW SET -- EVENING

               Liam is sitting at his desk wearing a napkin in his collar 
               and eating a plate of BBQ ribs.  His fingers are covered in 
               sauce and there are saucy fingerprints all over the napkin.  
               He looks up in confusion.

                         What do you mean we're live?  This 
                         is taped, right?

               He holds a hand up to his ear, pressing in and getting sauce 
               on the side of his face.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Oh crap.  Huh.  Uhh...welcome back 
                         folks.  As you can tell the life of 
                         a ink fisherman is fraught with danger 
                         indeed.  I hope that answered your 
                         question Bryan, from Walla 
                         Walla...Walla....Walla Washington.  
                         And I hope the rest of you will join 
                         us next time for another episode of 
                         What's Up With That?  This is Liam 
                         Ayer, signing off

               The camera starts to zoom out and the credits begin to roll.

                                     LIAM (CONT'D)
                         Who didn't tell me we were going 
                         live?  Stephanie, was it Stephanie?  
                         I want her fired.  I don't care how 
                         pregnant she is, I want her fired!


                                     THE END
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