Hollywood Superman

Hollywood Superman

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.]
THE END.
An illustration of two dancers.

The Dance

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.

An illustration of a daisy with one petal left.

Loves Me Not

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.
AYDEN: 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.

THE END.
An illustration of a monkey tapping at a typewriter.

The Typist

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.

THE END.
whaleweb2 - Thar She Blows!

Thar She Blows!

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.]

THE END.
Illustration of a woman dressed in leather.

Her Pants

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.

THE END.
Sunday wrap-up 30th April, 2017.

Sunday wrap-up (30th April 2017)

It’s Sunday, time to wrap-up the week!

23/04/17 [SHORT STORY]

The Yeti (a short story)

 

23/04/17 [POETRY]

You Only Love When You Want To Be Loved

 

25/04/17 [COMEDY]

Tinkers (And The Giant Slide)

 

26/04/17 [FLASH FICTION]

Plastic Grows On Trees (short story)

 

27/04/17 [COMEDY]

On The Front

 

27/04/17 [BLOG]

Control Your Mind And You Control The World

 

28/04/17 [ABSURDITY]

The Koala

 

29/04/17 [PROFUNDITY]

The Talk

 

29/04/17 [MIXTAPE]

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.

Selfie of Stu Mentha.

An illustration of a stork.

The Talk

EXT. CITY PARK – DUSK

[A FATHER sits with his young son, MATTHEW, on a bench in a park watching the sun go down over the horizon.]

FATHER: Matthew, it’s time we had the talk. You see son, in nature …

MATTHEW: I’m twelve dad. Don’t you think it’s a bit late? I know about the birds and the bees.

FATHER: Well, it’s just … I understand you learn certain things on social media and at school, but perhaps you don’t know everything.

MATTHEW: I know enough.

FATHER: Your mother asked me to talk to you. Just let me say what I’ve come here to say, okay? Don’t make this any more awkward. Then that will be it. You see … I’m not really sure how to put this, but … Well … Let me finish … Matthew, in nature …

MATTHEW: God dad.

FATHER: Let me finish. There are birds and there are bees. Now, the oriental stork is found in the lowland forests and wetlands of many Asian countries. It is a long-necked, long-legged bird …  Let me finish … The oriental stork is a large, white bird with black wing feathers. Let me finish … The oriental stork is a solitary bird except during the breeding season …

MATTHEW: Did you get this off Wikipedia?

FATHER: No. [PAUSE] In nature, there are …

MATTHEW: Oriental storks?

FATHER: And bees. There are nearly twenty thousand known species of bees in the world. They are found on every continent except Antarctica … Son, bees are important to birds because bees pollinate flowers, and well … We need flowers. Flowers are very important. But … It’s evolution. Biology. It’s completely natural … You see, birds too need flowers and we need birds. Everything in nature must work in tandem. Do you understand?

MATTHEW: I like birds.

FATHER: That’s very good to hear. But son, it’s important to like all animals.

MATTHEW: Yes, dad. Bees have sex. Birds have sex. Birds like bees and bees like birds and sometimes bees like other bees and some birds like goats. Everyone has sex. It’s good. It’s natural. Use condoms. I get it. I know.

FATHER: Matthew, in the age of Nicky Minaj and Tumblr I would be a little worried if you didn’t know about sex. But I’m afraid there are other things, much more complicated if you’d believe, that you must learn as a boy becoming a man. Son, you must learn certain things that social media and other people can’t ever tell you or don’t want to tell you. You must learn how the size of the universe is unfathomable and our place in it seeming insignificant, but you must learn still to love yourself within that same expanse. You must learn how a man cannot move mountains if he never learns to move his lips to speak of the simplicity of love. And you must learn that all animals have their place on Earth, and how we are all one with nature, and not separate from it, and how no single animal is lesser than another, and how we are all brothers. You must learn to listen to the wind even when it rambles insane, and to the call of mother nature even when she whispers so softly your ears only ring with the silence of it. And you must learn how the spirit moves through you and through all living things though you will never see it. And you must learn how humankind has been corrupted by greed. How men seek to replace bees with robots, and trees with money, and you must learn to keep your sanity in the midst of all this. Even when the last bee dies and the birds fall like a plague from the air. You must still learn to keep the bitterness out and peace and love in. For you must learn that the purpose of all things is to learn to love and be loved. For you are the universe. Like all living things. Like everything that ever was, is, and will be. Do you understand? [HE SEES THAT MATTHEW IS DUMBFOUNDED, JUST STARING AT HIM] Well, your mother was right. It’s too late. I should’ve had this talk with you when you were ten. But you see, my dad never had the talk with me. He only told me some bullshit about puberty! Can you believe!

[A moment. The two watch the sun disappearing behind the horizon.]

MATTHEW: What do they look like?

FATHER: Vaginas?

MATTHEW: Oriental storks.

FATHER: They’re critically endangered. But I’m told they’re beautiful, son. Like all birds. Beautiful.

MATTHEW: Beautiful?

FATHER: Beautiful.

THE END.

An illustration of a koala in a tree.

The Koala

EXT. – FUTURISTIC METROPOLIS, DAY (2075)

[A MAN hangs on to the third-story corner of a large skyscraper, the only tall building in a mostly flat and green metropolis. An electric truck pulls up in a silent kind of ‘whoosh’ out front.]

NARRATOR: After its long descent into depravity, things on Earth in the year 2075 had well and truly turned the other way. Disgusted with the greed and destruction they had long witnessed in the world, the Global Hippie Front and Hipster Freedom Parties formed a joint alliance and had, through the help of some carefully crafted viral social media posts, taken over the world. Money was abolished in favour of a simple barter system (farmer’s markets). Love was encouraged instead of hate. Trees were replanted the world over. The Great Barrier Reef teemed with life again.

[A neatly-dressed WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE steps out of the electric truck, accompanied by her younger ASSISTANT. She looks up, spots the MAN clinging to the building, sighs, and raises her megaphone.]

WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: In the name of the EGDFMTEALA, the Ecological Global Directive For Making The Earth Actually Liveable Again [SHE TURNS AWAY FROM THE MEGAPHONE TO HER ASSISTANT BY HER SIDE] Didn’t we agree on a simpler acronym? [BACK TO THE MEGAPHONE] I demand that you come down from that building.
MAN: [SHOUTING] Why? So you can cut down the last of the corporate offices? Replace it with one of your wildlife thoroughfares? You people are insane! All about the animals isn’t it? Oh, ‘Don’t hurt a koala’, I hear you say. ‘Respect mother nature,’ you say. ‘Wait till they cross the road,’ you say. Never mind you’re running late for a meeting! Yes, I see what you’re up to. You bloody hipsters! Driving your potato-powered cars and drinking your coconut-milk turmeric lattes! Yes, don’t touch the hair on a koala! But what about us CEOs? You hunt us down, force us to work on farms!
WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: No one is forcing you to work on a farm, Mr. Rubin.
MAN: Yeah right, because I’ll just walk down to the supermarket will I? And buy myself a tomato? But oh wait, there are no supermarkets anymore, are there? Because YOU SNEAKS got rid of them.
WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: There’s always the farmer’s market?
MAN: Fruit and veg without pesticides? Are you mad? You think I want worms in my salad? Hummingbirds in my sandwiches? Bees in my hair?
WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: Actually, I think you’ll find we’ve made significant progress on the birds and the bees, and the koalas for that matter. With all due respect you’re being a bit of a koala now.
MAN: All I ever wanted was a little bit of money to cradle, to love, to worship. Was that too much to ask? Just a few million pounds, tax-free? But YOU BASTARDS won’t have it! No! I’m never coming down! I’m making a stand!
WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: Come on now, don’t make this difficult. You’re making a fool of yourself. You’ll have a law suit on your hands!
MAN: Bleh! Community work! I don’t care anymore! I JUST don’t care! I made a promise long ago to sacrifice my life for the wholesome good of money. There’s no going back now! I won’t let you cut down another skyscraper!
WOMAN WITH MEGAPHONE: [LOWERS MEGAPHONE, BACK TO HER ASSISTANT] There’s always one.
ASSISTANT: Bloody cash huggers.
THE END.