A woman, wearing overalls and a sun hat, hacks away at a large bushy shrub in her front yard in the midday sunshine, with a large pair of shears and an ever bigger smile on her face. The camera should ever so gradually zoom in on the shrub.
SHRUB [VOICEOVER]: That’s it, a little bit to the left. The pain feels so good. Yes! Yes! There! Right there. That’s soooooo hot. Yes! Cut me! Make me feel it! I wanna FEEL it! Yeah! Cut me more. Deeper! Harder! I like it when you cut me. Let me feel the sunshine on my bare trunk! Oh yeah! Who’s your naughty boy? Who wants the gardener when you can have the garden, right? Yeah, I’m standing out here in the hot sun all day. I know you see me. I’ve seen you looking at me through the open window. Take me! Take me further! Now Mrs. Mortensen! The time is now! You, me! Yes, yes, yes … YES! [The shrub is looking a little worse for wear now, perhaps the woman has gotten a bit carried away. Alas, the camera continues to gradually zoom in on the shrub, while we will continue to hear the mad clicking of the shears.] Brrrr … You know what, it’s getting kinda breezy. You feel that? Maybe a cold change is coming through. Might rain later. Actually, can we pause for a second? Linda? No, seriously. It’s freaking cold. Can you? Please? Do you hear me? Linda? Linda! LINDA! You’re taking it too far lady! God, what are you doing? Are you out of your mind! Look at me! I’m gonna have nothing left! You trying to kill me? Capsicum! CAPSICUM! Cucumber? Oh God, what did we agree the safe word would be? Pickle! Gherkin? Can you even hear me? Linda? LINDA? [Audibly sobbing] Please … stop … LINDA!
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[Prince Charles sits patiently in a chair beside a doctor’s desk as the doctor sitting on a swivel chair with wheels shines a torch down his left ear, then spins around to check out the right.]
DOCTOR: Well, I must say, your ears are outstanding.
PRINCE CHARLES: Why, thank you!
DOCTOR: Out standing from your head.
PRINCE CHARLES: Oh.
DOCTOR: We can pin the ears back here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and yes ... [The doctor spins around the back of Prince Charles] … here.
PRINCE CHARLES: Well, they tell me you’re the best otoplasty surgeon in the world. I have complete confidence in your abilities. Now, this might sound like a rather stupid question, but will it affect my hearing?
DOCTOR: No more than your sense of balance.
PRINCE CHARLES: But I can hear perfectly fine, even standing on one leg.
DOCTOR [Back beside Prince Charles now]: Ah, no. Common misconception that. Our ears actually help us to balance. [He picks up a small anatomical learning device of the inner ear] You see, in the inner ear, there are three small loops above the cochlea called semicircular canals. Like the cochlea, they are also filled with liquid and have thousands of microscopic hairs. It is this system that tells us whether we have our feet firmly on the ground. Upset these hairs or the liquid and you start to feel nauseous.
PRINCE CHARLES: I thought you were simply folding them back?
DOCTOR: Couldn’t you carry around a long pole?
PRINCE CHARLES: For navigating high-wires?
DOCTOR: For hitting people over the head who make fun of your ears?
PRINCE CHARLES [A REVELATION]: Indeed.
[A North Korean military officer marches down a long bright sterile-looking hallway, flanked by two lieutenants. They stop and come to ease at the open doorway of a small mostly bare room with only a small desk and a closet along one wall, to see Kim-Jong-Un sitting on the ground, amidst a pile of bright squares of paper and folded origami cranes, folding yet another to add to it. The officer takes a step into the room, followed by his two lieutenants.]
OFFICER: Supreme Commander, we are ready for the next nuclear test.
KIM JONG-UN [NOT LOOKING UP]: I’ve decided to make origami today.
OFFICER: Young master, everything is going to plan. We have the U.S. reeling. Today is the scheduled day.
KIM JONG-UN [SIGHS]: I don’t know. I’m just … bored, I guess.
OFFICER: But, when shall we launch the new ICBM?
KIM JONG-UN: Sometime soon, I guess. Maybe not, ever?
OFFICER: Great comrade, are you okay? You haven’t been reading the international press have you? You must pay no attention to them. Your people love you. Dennis Rodman loves you. We are ready for phase two.
OFFICER: You seemed so excited about the ICBM just yesterday?
KIM JONG-UN [STILL NOT LOOKING UP, CONCENTRATING HARD ON THE CRANE]: I’m fine. I’ve just changed my mind is all. Something has come up. Look, I just need to make these cranes, alright?
OFFICER: [TENTATIVELY] Why?
KIM JONG-UN [HE FINALLY LOOKS UP. HIS FACE IS AS BRIGHT RED AS HIS FINGERS. IT ALMOST SEEMS HE’S BEEN CRYING]: Because the supreme commander commands it! I want to make origami cranes today, not launch a nuclear missile, alright? I just don’t feel like it!
OFFICER [TAKING OFF HIS HAT, SWEATING]: Of course, your excellency. You are perfect, you are our beloved master, supreme wise person, our brilliant leader! The nuclear test shall be delayed, your excellency. We would never question your decisions, your excellency.
[NO REPLY. THE OFFICER LOOKS TO HIS TWO LIEUTENANTS WHO LOOK BACK AT HIM HELPLESSLY. HE PUTS HIS HAT BACK ON. TOGETHER THEY BACK OUT OF THE ROOM, PERFORM A SYNCHRONISED TURN, AND MARCH BACK DOWN THE LONG STERILE-LOOKING HALLWAY OUT OF SIGHT.]
[Back in the room, the closet door opens and the ghost of a young Japanese girl, the spitting image of Sadako Sasaki to be exact, steps out of the closet, with a pistol held at Kim Jong-Un, a wave of origami cranes spilling out onto the ground at her feet.]
SASAKI: Good, six hundred and sixty-four … Only three hundred and thirty-six to go. And then we’re going to watch a nice little documentary about Hiroshima, aren’t we?
[STILL NO ANSWER]
SASAKI: Aren’t we?
KIM JONG-UN [SNIFFLING, LOOKING UP]: Yes. Yes, we are.
[SASAKI GESTURES THE GUN AS IF THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH.]
KIM JONG-UN [EYES CAST DOWN]: Please?
[SASAKI GESTURES THE GUN AGAIN.]
KIM JONG-UN: Your loveliness?
SASAKI [SMILING]: That’s a good little Kimmy.
[KIM JONG-UN BREAKS INTO TEARS.]
EXT. DAY - HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD
[Two blonde starlets walk down Hollywood boulevard teetering on high heels, large Gucci and Prada bags draped over their shoulders when they spot something moving far off in the sky.]
STARLET #1: OMG. Is that like a bird, or like, a plane or like, something like, I don’t know. What is it?
STARLET #2: It’s like, super flying though.
STARLET #1: Totally.
[The two women shrug their shoulders and walk into a Louis Vuitton.]
Every now and then I hear people talk about the idea of “a soul mate” one might be “fated” to meet. But if you are one hundred percent destined to meet a soul mate, this to me is a horrible fate. For it would mean being trapped into a predetermined reality and forced to follow a script to live by. Instead, I choose to believe in this beautiful yet tragic “truth”: that everyone at some point in their lives, whether they are thirteen, thirty-five, or ninety-years old, will meet someone. Not just anyone. Someone. This person will walk into your life, suddenly, usually without warning. And yet you will feel you know them immediately. Indeed, maybe you have met them already, you will wonder? They will make the stars shine ten times brighter, they will seem to make Heaven and Earth fuse and make you question if anything was ever apart? They will make the coldest rain sweet, and the world glow as if it were always the sun. Through a simple look in their eyes, or a single world, they will convey to you one day something so grand, some nugget of eternal wisdom, that you will feel every hair on your body stand on end, every “pixel” of your being resonate so beautifully as if to sing ‘This is why I’m here! This is it!’ And while some people will be lucky enough to grab hold of this person and hold them tight as if falling on two separate bungee chords, others will discover something more tragic. That you were never destined to be with this person. Or perhaps even you were, but something went wrong. Perhaps you were only ever destined to brush fingers in the eternal dance of the universe while dancing accidentally with someone else. For a while. And although, that sounds tragic, it is actually beautiful. For anyone who has lost the grasp of another’s fingers soon realises that yes, the universe is a dance, but a dance made of many steps. And losing love makes finding love all the more magical.
EXT. LUSH GARDEN - DAY
[A YOUNG MAN KNEELS DOWN BEFORE A YOUNG WOMAN IN A BEAUTIFUL GARDEN JUST AS THE SUN HITS THE LEAVES OF THE TREES AND BUTTERFLIES FLUTTER IN GENTLE SWARMS.]
AYDEN: Eve, I've waited for this day for so long, and I can't wait any long. [HE TAKES OUT A SMALL BOX FROM HIS POCKET, OPENS IT, AND REVEALS A DIAMOND RING] Will you do me the honour of marrying me?
EVE: [SHE PICKS UP THE RING WITH A BEAMING SMILE] Oh, Ayden! You know I adore you! But wait, have you asked my ...
AYDEN: Your father? Yes, I have. He has given us his complete approval. He is overjoyed and, assured of your answer, already arranging the wedding as we speak! We'll be married by the end of the month!
EVE: No, my flower.
EVE: You should know by now, Ayden. I am rather traditional. I hope you understand. My flower would be so angry if he weren't asked.
AYDEN: [NOW STANDING] What?
[EVE PLUCKS A SMALL DAISY FROM THE GROUND AND BEGINS TO GENTLY PLUCK THE PETALS.]
EVE: He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me ... Oh no! He loves me ... [SHE PLUCKS THE LAST PETAL] ... NOT. I'm so sorry Ayden, the daisy has spoken. I could never go against my flower! I must do what he asks of me.
AYDEN: What the? Are you insane?
EVE: I'm sorry Ayden, but you must go. You must! Before flower gets angry!
AYDEN: But I love you Eve. Eve?
[EVE HANDS BACK THE RING TO AYDEN, TEARS STREAMING DOWN HER FACE.]
EVE: Go. Please. [SHE TURNS HER BACK ON AYDEN, WITH THE BACK OF HER HAND AGAINST HER BROW, AS THE CLOUDS CONCEAL THE SUN AND THE BUTTERFLIES FLUTTER AWAY INTO THE DARKNESS OF A NEARBY TREE] Just. GO.
MAN: Yes, that’s right, the complete works. No, that’s the thing. We want it typed out again. All of it. Word by word. Remember, no mistakes. You get to the end of King Lear, muck it up, you’ll have to start all over again. Control C? Control V? That would be cheating wouldn’t it? Anyway, we like to do things the old fashioned way here. That’s right, typewriters. Plagiarism? Ha! It’s Shakespeare! Hardly The Beatles is it? So anyway, this is your cubicle here. One other thing, do you have any samples of your work? No, that’s good. We’re looking for inexperienced monkeys. English? Won’t need it. Alright, I think you're all set. Just tap away at the keys however you like. Yes, that’s it. Make noise. Hit it with your feet. Do whatever you feel like basically. What’s that? Duration? We will require your services on an ongoing basis. Hourly rate? I’m afraid not. Bananas? Yes.
EXT. WHALING SHIP OUT AT SEA - DAY
MAN: [VOICEOVER] After 365 days at sea, rations were running low. An eighth of a pint of rum and a pinch of bread had to suffice each morning, at least till we pulled into our next port. But no one could say when that would be. Much of the crew were growing restless. We had lost count of the days since we had last seen land.
SHIPMATE: [SHOUTING] Thar she blows! The leviathan!
[The door of the captain’s cabin swings open with a mighty slam against the outside wall and the captain steps out dressed in his regal coat and captain’s hat.]
CAPTAIN: All this time searching. Lord, is this the day we find the beast? [YELLING AT HIS SHIPMATE] Point me to her me lad!
SHIPMATE: [POINTING] Over stern cap’n!
[The crew gather excitedly as the captain hurries to stern and produces his periscope from his jacket pocket. After a moment searching the distant waves he spots the tail of a white whale flick up and out of the water. The crew can hardly contain themselves!]
CAPTAIN: Aha. Whale, yes. White, yes. Slight curve of the tail. Subtle black striped patterns along the lower back. Ah, no, no. The one I saw was slightly bigger. [HE SHUTS HIS PERISCOPE AND PUTS IT BACK INTO HIS JACKET BEFORE TURNING TO FACE HIS CREW] False alarm! Keep looking lads!
[The crew simultaneously sigh as the captain retreats to his cabin. Another weary one-legged old shipmate drinks straight from a bottle of rum.]
INT. CROWDED BAR - NIGHT
[MERV and BILL are sitting at a small table in a bar both drinking a beer when a very attractive young woman walks by, dressed in leather. Their mouths drop as she passes.]
MERV: What I would give to get into her pants!
BILL: Aw yeah!
[MERV slips off into a daydream ...]
INT. BEDROOM - DAY
A bra hangs over the side on the side of the bedpost. Merv wakes up and sees the the beautiful woman, SOPHIE, still fast asleep beside him. He gently lifts her arm up from his chest, and gets out of bed, then creeps towards the other end of the bedroom.
SOPHIE: [STILL DROWSY] Merv?
MERV stops, caught, one leg jammed into Sophie's leather pants.
It’s Sunday, time to wrap-up the week!
23/04/17 [SHORT STORY]
The Yeti (a short story)
You Only Love When You Want To Be Loved
Tinkers (And The Giant Slide)
26/04/17 [FLASH FICTION]
Plastic Grows On Trees (short story)
On The Front
Control Your Mind And You Control The World
Thank you everyone for all the love this week 🙂 If you like what I do please continue to comment, like, and share. It all helps me to continue doing what I love doing and sharing my art with you.