Movies of Summer’98: The Parody


Movies of Summer ’98: A Review




Warning: The following parody is rated PG-13 for scenes of so-called “humorous” violence, sexual innuendoes and gratuitous stereotypes against other races, religions, sexual orientations, American presidents and a certain federal government agency…

This parody does not use proper script format in an effort to keep down the size of this already-too-large file.


FADE-IN on a near-future battlefield. A team of gruff, tired soldiers is steadfastly advancing while everyone around them are getting killed. A headless man looks for his head, takes it, tucks it under his arm and shouts “MEDIC!” One of the soldiers point ahead: A machine-gun nest must be destroyed. Attempting to run though the autobahn between them and the machine-gun nest, several soldiers are run-over by expensive cars. At the base of the machine-gun nest, a polar bear ravages the soldier’s ranks.

Weary Soldier: How worse can it be?

A mountain lion pounces on him. Elsewhere, Islamic soldiers are unrolling their mats to pray, Englishmen are taking the time for tea-time and public servants cry when their coffee thermos are punctured by bullets. A soldier’s helmet is hit by a bullet; he removes it to look at the impact, revealing another helmet underneath. As another bullet hits the second helmet, he grins at the camera and removes the second helmet, revealing a Montreal Canadien toque complete with red pom-pom. Advancing soldiers fall, sink to the bottom and drown in gigantic pools of Snapple to dinky upbeat commercial-type music.

Caption: Snapple; how worse can it be?


As the camera gradually pulls back from the TV screen, the music is replaced by the hooting and hollering of four friends (BLAINE, SIMON, GUNTHER and KENNY) watching the war movie. It’s clear that they’re having a lot of fun.

Blaine: Hey, watch this! All: What?

Blaine: [Pointing at the screen] Guy with the glasses; gets killed in five… four… three… two-

BOOM! Everyone laughs.

Blaine: [shrugging] Okay, so my timing’s a bit off…

Officer: [From the TV] CHAAARGE!

All: But what if they won’t take chaaarge?


(Credits begin)


Blaine: [Pointing at the camera] Hey! Have you seen this?

Gunther: What?

A PARODY BY Christian Sauvé

Blaine: Credits! We’re in a movie!

Everyone stares at each other in horror.


Blaine: At least he’s honest.

Kenny: But we’re still in a movie…


Simon: Wow! That’s a mouthful!

Gunther: I wonder how they’re going to fit that title on a ticket.

BY Christian Sauvé

Blaine: Now we’re in trouble.


Simon: Uh-huh. Right.

Blaine: Okay, so if we’re in a movie, what’s the plot?

Gunther: Yeah, bad things are bound to happen any time now. The war movie on the television screen is replaced by a sombre-looking news anchor.

Anchor: We’re glad to interrupt your enjoyment of your overpriced video rental by a bunch of bad news.

Simon: I can’t honestly say I’m surprised.

Anchor: Trusted sources have revealed that no less than three disasters are currently headed for your town.

Gunther: Wicked!

Anchor: Not so fast! You won’t be so delighted when the Tchoukrout comet will ruin your lawn.

Gunther: Gee.

Anchor: Or when an asteroid will definitely put an end to your neighbour’s hollering.

Gunther: Oh.

Anchor: Or when a giant chicken will decide to use your house as nesting material. Beware, because-

Simon clicks off the TV.

Gunther: Heyyy!

Simon: We’re in a parody! Got to keep the action moving!


Helicopter shot of the Capitol… which turns around to reveal a squalid quasi-third-world ghetto with periodic explosions, gunfire and toxic gas emissions. Close-up on the red-light district-


A black limousine stops in front of the sex shop. The president gets out, surrounded by his bodyguards, and enters the store. Suddenly, the picture is swept away by a hand-


Gunther: Wait a second: We still haven’t settled one thing.

Simon: What?

Gunther: Who’s the hero? Who’s the sidekick? Who’s the comic relief? Who’s the guy who’s going to die?

All rise. Blaine is taller than the other four. He smirks. Simon has a T-Shirt saying “I’m with hero”, with an arrow pointing to Blaine. Gunther’s pants fall off, his gadget-studded belt thunking loudly on the floor. Kenny stares ahead incredulously.

Kenny: I have always wanted to see Montana…

All look at him with pity.


The president is stocking up on silk ropes, racy mags (“HOT WHITE HOUSE INTERNS’98”, “CALIFORNIA GIRLS PURE LOVE”, “FAT BUT FUN”, “SUCKING UP TO THE BOSS”, etc…) and cigars. Around him, secret service agents are trying to look inauspicious by reading TO SERVE AND PENETRATE. A journalist enters the shop and points a microphone (yes, a *microphone* ) at the president, who is shocked to see that it’s not a transvestite but a real woman.

Journalist: Aretha Boleyn, MSCNNBC news! Mister President, I know that you’re hiding something from the American people!

The President sighs slowly.

President: Well, it had to come out at some point. I will not lie-

Journalist: [Emoting] How can you dare to conceal the end of the human species?!

President: Oh, it’s not as bad as that-

Journalist: [Emoting ridiculously] And you trivialize the question! We’re facing extinction, and you’re still trying to minimize the issue?

President: What are you talking about? The only thing I’ve done is to tie down a few barely-legal girls in the Oval Office, whip’em a bit and have my way with them. It’s all very wholesome.

Journalist: You’re not trying to hide that a killer comet and an even bigger asteroid are going to smash into Earth in a few days?

President: Certainly not! I only lie to protect my personal life–

Disbelieving glares from everyone.

President: -well, okay, but I wouldn’t lie about that!

Journalist: But in telephone conversations, you’ve made references to “Deep Impact”, “Hard Drilling”, “Rock-Hard”, “Exploding Everywhere” and “Splashing in your face”-

President: Those were sexual innuendoes!

Journalist: Oh.

President: We’ve been keeping you informed of the asteroid and comet business in official White House Press Releases ever since we started working on it!

Journalist: Well, it’s not as if we actually believe that stuff.

Secret Agent: Should we throw her in prison, sir?

President: Nah, just spank her silly. In my office.


Ugly white twin towers house the Public Slavery Commission. Focus on the 19th floor.


Day job for Blaine. He’s in a conference room in front of high-ranking officials, trying to convince them with a PowerPoint presentation.

Blaine: And so my initiative is called “Cleverness Management!”

He presses a button and the title CLEVERNESS MANAGEMENT appears on screen with a fancy animation, with trumpets and little dancing babies. An audible gasp is quickly replaced by “ooohs.”

Official #1: [To Official #2] Look at those dancing babies! I think we should support this initiative.

As Official #2 nods, Blaine continues his speech.

Blaine: The idea here is not about collecting more data, making better information or generating more comprehensible knowledge, but to actually do *something* with all of this!

He takes a break for a sip of water, tapping on another button that reveals another fancy animation of cute little singing kittens. While the crowd is impressed by the blinking colors, bouncing balls and the moving pictures, he mutters to himself.

Blaine: Must not laugh aloud… must not… [Aloud] Part of this is to make a better usage of the software we use in our day-to-day work! We must turn on our minds as well as our computers-

Official #3: Just a question! If I understand correctly, you want us to actually run electricity through our computers?

Blaine: Well… of course.

Official #3: [Almost besides himself at having caught Blaine in a trap] Ah-ha! But what about the environmental impact of this?

Blaine: Well-

Official #2: I believe that computer fans create air circulation, and we can’t have that! What about diseases, or the risk of more people catching cold due to the chilly temperature?

Blaine: You can’t be serious-

An helicopter begins to be heard.

Official #1: I think we need to consider the Employment Equity implications of this initiative before proceeding-

The helicopter is approaching.

Blaine: WHAT??

Suddenly, the glass window implodes, and commandos jumps inside. Quicker than a pit-bull attacking a newborn, they grab Blaine, strap him in a harness and carry him back in their stylishly decorated helicopter.



The Black helicopters settle down near the main building. Blaine is whisked off inside.


Blaine is brought in front of a team of high muckety-mucks suspiciously alike the ones he just left.

Blaine: [To Commandoes] Tight budgets, right?

Commando: [whispering] Everything’s been spent on Special Effects.

The commandoes depart. A stunning woman, roughly Blaine’s age, approaches him.

Elaine: Hi. I’m Elaine, the most intelligent being on the planet.

Blaine: And no doubt the most humble too.

Elaine: That’s right. Even won a “Miss Humility” trophy once.

Blaine: What happened?

Elaine: Went to my head. But enough with me, let’s talk about the fate of humankind.

Blaine: My kind of romantic chit-chat.

“Ahems” are heard from the muckety-mucks. Elaine: As you know, we’re facing a terrible threat right now.

Blaine: You mean the president?

Elaine: No! A comet and an asteroid are heading for Earth at this very moment. Fortunately, NASA is mounting a rescue operation-

Blaine: Good. I feared the Canadian Space Agency was on it.

Elaine: -and they’ve put me in charge of the operation, so we’re going to be all right. However, we will still need your services.

Blaine: Why? Elaine: Well, no particular reasons: Every since I read your web site, I’ve just been madly in love with you and thought of no better way to get you than to go though a harrowing, life-threatening experience together.

Blaine: Baby, ever since I saw the credits I expected something like this. However, in order to create gratuitous tension, I will ask you to find another reason!

Elaine: Okay. As you know, most plans in movie have flaws in them that a four-year old can spot. We already got a four-year old on staff for that reason, but we though that it would also be a good idea to hire a movie nitpicker as extra insurance.

Blaine: I will be pleased to serve, but I cannot do this without my team!

Elaine: What are their prices?


Blaine stops his Saturn in front of Gunther’s house. Gunther comes out and claps Blaine’s hands.

Gunther: Yo, was’sup bro?

Blaine: Want to go into space?

Gunther: Just give me the spacesuit and point toward the launch pad.

Blaine opens the rear compartment and takes out a space suit.

Blaine: There you go.

He points to the south.

Blaine: Kennedy Space Centre. You can’t miss it.

Gunther starts running.


As Blaine pulls in the driveway, he sees Kenny bawling his eyes out with his family. He walks toward them.

Blaine: Hey, Kenny! The world needs you!

Everyone bawls harder. Blaine slips plane tickets in Kenny’s breast pocket.

Blaine: Kennedy Space Centre! See you there!

Blaine walks back to the car. Hand on the handle, he turns to the family.

Blaine: By the way, I expect you to bring back my CDs before we leave!


Entering without knocking, Blaine opens the fridge and takes out half the content before making his way toward Simon in the living room. Simon is watching a sport event on TV.

Blaine: Hey, what’s that?

Simon: New sport they’re testing: Footbasekethockeyball. I have to watch the demo tape and send back this little questionnaire.

He points to a telephone-book-sized market survey on the table.

Blaine: What’s it all about?

Simon: Not sure yet…

On the screen, athletes are introduced and take their places on the playing field. The pope dribbles the ceremonial puckball, then everyone goes back to their seats. Other players are brought in, and the game starts.

Blaine: Hey, what happened-

Simon: You can’t seriously expect guys paid millions to be in any physical danger, right? So stunt doubles play for them.

Blaine: Stunt doubles-

Meanwhile, a fight has broken out on the TV. Both looks on as points are added to team totals as players knock out the opposite team’s members.

Blaine: Um…

Simon: Whoah! Have you seen the cheerleaders?

Blaine: Cheerleaders? I though they were strippers!

Simon: Well, that too… I guess they’re right when they say that pro sports have become more entertainment than- Hey, look! It’s Gene Hackman, and he’s trying to steal the other team’s secret plans!

Blaine: [grabbing Simon by the collar and dragging him out] Come on!


On the vast six-lane highway going through Hometown, Blaine and Simon are cruising with Blaine’s Saturn, windows open, gangsta rap music turned up loud.


Blaine taps a blinking light on the dashboard.

Simon: What?

Blaine: [Grim] Battery’s not recharging. I guess the alternator’s down. Let’s hope that we’ll get home before the battery fails completely, or else the car will just stop.

Simon: Gee, that was a boring bit of technical exposition!

Blaine: It does sets up a few good jokes down the line.

Suddenly, a terrifying POC! POC! is felt more than heard by the two friends. Both crane their heads outside.

Simon: Oh no! It’s-


A giant chicken foot slams down in front of the car. Blaine steps on the gas and uses the foot as a ramp. The car jumps, flies over a few meters in mid-air, then falls back down again.


BOOM! The second foot slams down. Again, they use the foot as ramp, fly, fall down.

Simon: Whoah! Intense!

BOOM! A third foot. Zwee, slam!

Simon: It does loses its appeal the third time.

A fourth time in the air. They land. POC POC!

Simon: Oh no! He’s pissed, now!

Blaine: Well, what do you expect? We’ve been running all over him!


The giant chicken pursues the car, flapping its wing and picking on the rooftop.


Both: Eek!

The battery light starts flashing.

Blaine: Battery’s low! Shut off everything that’s not necessary!

Simon shuts down the radio, air conditioner, toaster, fridge and the dishwashing machine.

Simon: [Looking around] Forgot anything?

Blaine: The Nuclear Cyclotron!

After slapping his forehead, Simon powers down the portable atom supercollider.

Suddenly, a beak pierces the top of the car.

Simon: We have to do something! Otherwise he’ll triple your insurance rates!


Strangely, the Saturn is now the only car on the freeway, still being pursued and picked on by Henzilla. In the middle of the downtown core, the Highway bends sharply to the right.

Blaine: Hang on!

Simon: Did you really have to say that?

The car uses a conveniently-place piece of plywood to jump off the freeway. The car hangs in mid-air for a moment… …then slams right into the facade of a government high-rise building.


The Saturn crashes through the window, ravages the whole floor and exits by the other side. Long after it’s gone, one civil servant wakes up dimly, looks around and goes back to sleep.


Simon: My, that was almost enjoyable.

The car crashes into a McBurger express drive-in lane. It’s designed to let customers order while they’re going at least 90 kph. A drone follows the car.

McBruger Drone: May I have your order, please?

Blaine: [To Simon] Don’t say it!

Simon: [Ignoring Blaine] Fried Chicken for two, please!

Blaine: [Closing his eyes momentarily] Oh, now you’ve done it! Both feverishly search in their pockets for change, and throw it on the drone’s change slot. Two McFried McChicken McMeals are thrown into the car.

Blaine: Fast service.

Simon: [Making a disgusted face at his McMeal] What’s this, flayed chicken? The drive-in lane amazingly goes back onto the highway.

Simon: At least we got rid of- POC! POC! The two friends look behind them in horror.


Not far behind them, Henzilla is quickly catching up, using a smashed HT TRANSPO bus as a skateboard. Up ahead, the Hometown freeway ends at a another perpendicular four- lane National Freeway. On the other side of the T-shaped intersection, the HomeTown river. The traffic light turns red as the Saturn approaches.


Another icon lights up on the dashboard.

Simon: Right, what again?

Blaine: Battery’s dead, and-

The electrical system of the car shuts down; a bad thing for a fuel- injection vehicle.

Blaine: [Pressing on the gas pedal without results] -I hate to say it, but we’re in trouble.

Both: Aaaaaaargh!


The Saturn bumps on the side shoulder and miraculously crosses the red light without being hit by other cars. It turns left to avoid plunging down in the river, and finally stops on the other side of the highway, meters from the cliff leading down to the river.


Both friends breathe once, but POC! POC! Looking outside, they see that Henzilla is letting the bus go, giving it an extra boost of speed. The monster eyes the immobile Saturn, PLUCKS mightily and heads for it on foot. They exit as fast as they can.


Meanwhile, the smashed bus careens through the now-busy intersection, causing several crashes and then plunging far down below in the river.

Simon: Gee, this is *really* a big-budget production.

Henzilla crosses the highway, stepping on a few cars. The monster PLUCKS mightily once again, then reaches out to pick on our heroes- -when suddenly, a freak tornado suddenly unfeathers Henzilla, making in spin on itself. Then, a CL-215 adorned with the KFC logo and colour scheme drops tons of the KFC secret spice on Henzilla. It POC-POCs once again in horror, knowing what’s going to happen- -and then, a KFC-force F-18 flies overhead, launching Hellfire missiles on the giant chicken. All shots connect, and Henzilla immediately begins to roast. It trips over a passing Festiva, and plunges down into the river. The two friends look at each other. Simon’s face is painfully distorted by his effort not to burst out laughing.

Blaine: Okay, Simon, say it!

Simon: WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? Blaine sighs once.

Blaine: To make this stupid one-liner possible.

Shaking his head while Simon gasps laughing, he goes to the car’s trunk and opens it. He sees a scruffy male criminal and a pretty policewoman comfortably installed inside.

Criminal: [To policewoman] So you liked SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE too? I thought- Hey! Both look at Blaine.

Policewoman: Could you close the trunk, please? This is the perfect first date so far! CLUNK.


In the shadow of a Saturn 5 and a Babylon 5, Blaine and his friends are discussing with the NASA administrators. Gunther arrives, grimy and out of breath but with the spacesuit under his arm.

Gunther: I’m late?

Blaine: Not really. I was just saying that we’re not going to work for free. We’d like-

Gunther: Free Ferraris!

Simon: A date with Chelsea!

Gunther: Ownership of Microsoft!

Simon: My face on Mount Rushmore!

Gunther: My face on the dollar bill!

Simon: A private Vanilla Ice concert!

Blaine just shakes his head.


All four heroes listen on as Elaine and a bunch of other scientists explain the mission, disguised as space shuttles, planets, stations and asteroids.

Elaine: [dressed as a shuttle] After blastoff, we’ll make a complete orbit- She circles the scientist dressed as Earth.

Elaine: -and we will refuel at the station after we dock-

Blaine: -no need to mime this, please-

Elaine: -Afterward we’ll stop at Disneyland Space for a day of wholesome fun-

Simon: -this smells like product placement-

Gunther: No, *this* is product placement. Pause as he drinks from a Pepsi can.

Elaine: -then we’ll circle the moon- The ballet continues, while “The Planets” plays on.

Elaine: -dock on the comet and detonate the first nukes- She sets off firecrackers inside the guy’s comet suit.

Blaine: [To Simon] She’s supposed to be the smartest brain on the planet.

Simon: [To Blaine] Yeah, but what a babe! Plus, she’s supposed to be your romantic interest, man! Sha-wing!

Elaine: -and then move on to the asteroid, where we’ll set the second set of nukes. The Asteroid guy runs away as she tries to approach. She runs after him, trying to corner him at the back of the room.

Gunther: Auspicious simulation.


A sign announces: NOW PLAYING: THE AVENGERS. The doors open. The guys and robots from Mystery Science Theatre 3000 comes out, doubling over with laughter. NASA scientists rush toward them.

NASA Guy #1: Are you all right? Are they all right?

Crow: [Between gasps of hilarity] They’re good! Really good!

The four heroes come out of the door, looking cool and moderately satisfied.


The Razorback is a bar for NASA’s blue-collar crowd. The four heroes enter and sit at a table where a grizzled sixty-ish military officer is sitting.

Blaine: Captain Dave Tuna? We’re-

Tuna: Yeah, I know. [To the bartender] Hey! My usual! The bartender brings him a pitcher of Vodka… with a straw.

As Blaine starts speaking, Tuna begins sipping from the pitcher.

Blaine: We just wanted to say that we’re really honoured to be part of your crew and— uh– The pitcher is already half-empty.

Tuna: Yeah? Go on.

Blaine: -and we look forward to the flight and we’re really impressed by your drinking abilities, SIR!

As the four salute, Tuna finishes the vodka pitcher and throws it away.

Tuna: Great! Now let’s go pick up some chicks at the dance bar, okay?


Somehow, Blaine and Elaine find themselves lying on a bedsheet in the middle of a field while the suns sets down. They look at each other tenderly, then Blaine takes out soda crackers and drags one against her bare stomach.

Elaine: Ouch! That scratches! [Getting up] What was that for? Are you some kind of pervert?

She storms off.

Blaine: What did I do?


Technicians are all around the shuttle, preparing the last details; washing windows, changing the oil, inflating the tires…


The shuttle crew, the four-year-old, Elaine, Tuna and the four heroes are suiting up. Blaine zips up his suit, turns around to talk to Simon, when-

Kenny: Aaaargh!

Everyone turn around and stare at Kenny, who has managed to get stuck leg- over-arm-under-head in his spacesuit’s zipper.

Elaine: Oh, how horrible!

Simon: How did he manage to get stuck this way?

Blaine: I can’t say I didn’t really expect something like this… Doctors enter the room and inspect Kenny. The head doctor, played by an well-known but overrated older actor, looks gravely at the team.

Doctor: I’ve seen this during the war… This type of accident is fatal. Unless…

Everyone inches closer.

Doctor: …you can bring back for him…

Everyone inches yet closer.

Doctor: …a rare flower that grows only on asteroids!

Everyone sharply steps back.

Blaine: What is this crap!?

Simon: We’re back in a plot for idots!

Gunther: Never been out of it, you mean.

Doctor: They laughed at Galileo, they laughed at Einstein-

Blaine: -and they laughed at Jojo Savard, too. Gunther, kick him out of here!

He does, with a solid delivery to the seat of pants.

Doctor: [before landing outside] I’m putting this on his bill!


Simon: You billed Kenny, you bastard!


Everyone is strapped in.

Simon: Hooo boy, this is it! Gonna go where no movie critic has gone before!

Gunther: Get away from here at warp speed!

Simon: Beam us up now, Scotty!

Gunther: Invert the polarity and let’s get going!

Blaine makes faces.

Simon: Make it so, number one!

Gunther: But captain, the engine canna take much more!

Blaine slaps Gunther and Simon: THWACK! THWACK!

Blaine: Me neither! Stop it! I declare a moratorium on a Star-Trek expressions!

Everyone grumbles.


A few birds are incinerated as the shuttles depart.


Everything’s vibrating.

Simon: [signing] Going away on a jet plane / don’t know if I’ll be back again…

Gunther: [slapping Simon hapzardly] That’s damn depressing! Shut up!


The shuttle is docking with the station.

Simon: Whoah! That was fast!


Everyone is unbuckling and going toward the hatch.

Blaine: What about zero gravity-

Everyone: Shhh!

They open the hatch and go inside the station, where they see-


-a sun-battered desert, with mountains in the distance.

Gunther: Roomy.

Blaine: What about our fuel?

Tuna: There! He points to a dilapidated gas station, a few dozen meters in the distance.

Elaine: Anyone in here?

Tuna: [Surveying the landscape] There’s supposed to be a Russian astronaut somewhere. Quite crazy. They say they stuck him up here with a crateful of Videos. Mostly westerns, but somehow a copy of “Priscilla, Queen of the desert” ended up- Footsteps. They turn toward the station again, seeing someone advance, the long cape swishing in the wind, the stylish dress, the sword at its side-

Zarra: Woo-hoo, girls! I’m here!

Tuna: -in the box along with a tape of “Zorro, the Gay Blade”- The figure in front of them has a long, flowing cape of red velvet studded with sequins. His long hair is braided in tresses. The effect, as intended, is a lot like a transvestite version of Zorro.

Tuna: -and I was foolish enough not to believe the rumours.

Embarrassed silence.

Zarra: What? You’re not happy to see me?

Gunther: [To Blaine and Tuna] I have three sisters: let me handle this.

He advances toward Zarra.

Gunther: Zarra, my girl! You simply look won-der-ful! You lost some weight! How did you manage to do your hair?? Gor-ge-ous!

Zarra beams. Gunther make an o-kay sign behind his back.


Musical montage (“Pump up the Jam”) as hoses are connected to the gas station and fed to the shuttle.


Zarra: [To Elaine] And that Leonardo, whoo! So cute, so sensitive, so… non-threatening! I think-

A sound alerts him.

Zarra: Oh no! Groundhogs!

Blaine: What?

Zarra: A scientific experiment gone wrong. Don’t ask. But- He scans the horizon.

Zarra: They’re going to attack soon, I know it!

Irrelevant Person: [Through radio] Shuttle tanks at 80% capacity!

Zarra: [Drawing his custom-modified katana] There!

Out of nowhere, a large rodent head appears.

Zarra: They’re going to come out from under the ground!

Tuna takes out a mean-looking .45 out of his belt.

Tuna: Bastards won’t take us alive!

More and more heads pop up as the first groundhogs are assembling in large groups. Gunther somehow gets an M-50 out of his own belt.

Gunther: Come and get some!

Seeing Simon with a flyswatter and an M-16, Blaine goes to protect Elaine, but is surprised to fin that she’s handing him her spare Magnum .357

Elaine: What? You’re in an action parody. We’re all card-carrying NRA members here!

As the small group prepare for the defence of the gas station against the advancing groundhog hordes, the ground under them begins to tremble.

Blaine: Why can’t we make a run for the shuttle?

Tuna: [credit card in hand] What? And leave without paying? Thief!

The ground now rumbles, cracks, parts… A gigantic furry head slowly appears.


Blaine: [To the sky] How many times are we going to milk that joke?

Irrelevant Voice: [Through radio] Shuttle tanks full!

Tuna swipes the credit card down the automated reader. The price is somewhere in the seven figures.

Tuna: Good thing NASA has a platinum charging account. Now run!

They make a break for the shuttle. Surprisingly, nothing bad happens.


The shuttle WHOOSHES through space.



The cafeteria is deserted when Blaine enters. He looks around and sees only two or three crewmen eating their lunches. Puzzled, he grabs a quick lunch and sits down. He’s soon joined by Simon and Tuna.

Blaine: Where is everyone?

Simon: What do you mean?

Blaine: It’s a quarter past noon and we’re the only ones here! This place was full yesterday!

Tuna: Well, it’s a long weekend, so maybe people are just leaving-

Blaine: It’s Wednesday and we’re thousands of miles away from Earth!

Tuna: Gee. Must be vampires, then.

Suspenseful music.

Simon and Gunther: WHAT?

Tuna: Stowaways.

Simon: *Vampires* Stowaways?

Tuna: [nodding] They’re the worst.


The Shuttle is about to pass over the dark side of the moon. The movie blows its music licensing budget right there.


Tuna: We’ll be out of contact with Earth in –well, right now.

Everyone looks in awe at the moon…

Blaine: Hey, is that-?

The hidden side of the moon is non-existent. Instead, The whole satellite is hollow. Dozen of humanoids are manoeuvring the thousands of cameras inside the moon –all pointed at Earth.

Gunther: I’ve got a bad feeling about this-


Gunther: That was STAR *WARS*, you morons!

Blaine: But what is this?

Tuna: Obviously some kind of galactic Candid Camera.

Blaine: You mean our life is observed by these… guys.

Gunther: Aliens.

Blaine: Let’s not jump to conclusions. How do you know?

Gunther: Behind you.

Blaine turns around, sees a human-sized biped puppy dog.

Zarra: Awww… A puppy! He’s so cute!

Tuna: Hush! That’s exactly what he wants. LET’S SEE WHO’S REALLY UNDER THAT DISGUISE, PUPPY!

There’s a tearing sound as Tuna rips apart the puppy disguise to reveal- -a human-sized teddy bear.

Everyone: Awww…

Tuna continues to pull, but that’s obviously real fur. Teddy protests with a voice eerily reminiscent of Orson Welles.

Teddy: Oh, enough with the hair-pulling!

Blaine: Oh no! Little Teddy’s mad, now! The Alien glares at Blaine.

Blaine: [Embarrassed] Oh, right; I’m not shouting at a movie screen anymore-

Teddy: Movie screen? What do you know about a movie screen? You are the ones on *my* movie screen.

Simon: That’s pretty cynical language for a cute little teddy bear.

Teddy pulls out a cigar and lights it up.

Teddy: We come from Procyon IV, and we’re here to make money. We sell your poor pitiful human misery as The Earth Show. When things get too boring, we make up something! Your *history* is a *soap opera* for us!

Gunther: Yikes. So that really puts everything in perspective. Titanic, that was you?

The Teddy Bear coolly puffs on his cigar like a true mogul.

Teddy: Yep. Who do you think was crazy enough to give two hundred millions to Cameron for a chick flick? Of course, we made it back-

Gunther: No, I mean-

Teddy: Yeah, the iceberg too. Surprising turn of event, isn’t it?

Tuna: The Nazi?

Teddy: Our costume designers had way too much fun with those.

Simon: Richard Nixon?

Teddy: One of our best actors… He also played Hitler, Napoleon and Genghis Khan. He’s a bit typecast now.

Gunther: New Coke and New Kids on the Block?

Teddy: Hey! We liked that stuff!

Blaine: Roswell?

Teddy: Grow up! There isn’t anything at Roswell!

Simon: So he’s a super-powerful alien controlling humankind’s destiny. Could he be…

Blaine, Gunther and Simon: SATAN?

Teddy: No.

Simon: Well, okay. That’s good enough for me.

Tuna: What about the comet and the asteroid?

Teddy: Comet? Wait a minute…

He takes out a cell phone, dials a number and begins chatting in Japanese. He shakes his head, shouts and closes the phone.

Teddy: Sorry about the comet thing. We’re taking care of it.


The comet brakes, skids, turns around sharply and goes away.


An astronomer blinks in surprise. Astronomer: Yes! Praying to the Virgin Mary *did* pay off!


Tuna: And the asteroid?

Teddy: That’s legit. The vampires too. Good luck. Gotta go!

Teddy pops out of existence.

Gunther: I don’t think that part is ever going to make it in my autobiography-

A light flashes on the board.

Tuna: The sprinkler system has gone off in the meat locker!

Blaine: But there’s no one-



Dozen of bodies are dancing crazily to Chumbawumba’s “Tubthumping” while the sprinkler system is raining down viscous red liquid all over them. Suddenly, Zarra enters the room, katana raised.

Zarra: Oh, how horrible! You’ll stain your clothes!

Blaine enter along with the others, sniffs, extends his hand to get rained on, then licks the liquid.

Blaine: Cherry Kool-Aid?

Everyone looks at him.

Vampire#1: Yeah! We’re Kool-Aid Vampires!

Vampire#2: Who do you take us for? Bloodsuckers?

All Vampires: Eeewwww…

Vampire#1: This stuff is really addictive, though.

Blaine: That has got to be the LOUSIEST PLOT CHEAT EVER! All this setup for some stupid joke?

Gunther: So what’s your point?

Blaine: What’s next? Landing on the asteroid without a hitch?


The shuttle taxis to a parking place marked “Shuttles To Save The Human Race Only”. Not far away, a signs attached to an arrow pointing downward says “DETONATE NUKE HERE TO DESTROY ASTEROID.”

Blaine: I give up…



Elaine: We’ve taken out the nuke, left it in the detonation spot and we’re ready to go! We’re home free!

Blaine: [To Simon and Gunther] I think we’re going to be needed soon, guys.

Tuna steps back from the monitors relaying outside camera views.

Tuna: What is this? Everyone looks at the camera, where small toy figurines are busy banging up the atomic bomb.

Elaine: Send in our guys!

A few burly policemen-type soldiers try to stop the small soldiers, but they can’t even catch them.

Zarra: We’re doomed! Eeeee-

Blaine: Where’s the four-year-old?

Elaine: [Pointing at the bridge’s closet] We’ve locked him in there. He was at the Kool-aid guzzling party, and now he’s hyper-

Blaine: Get him out there now!

Elaine opens the door and pulls out the kid, grabbing him by the ears.


It takes three persons to put a suit on the kid.


It takes six persons to stuff him in the airlock.


Everyone goes to the monitor array.

Blaine: He’s seen the small soldiers!

Kid: [Filt.] WHEEEE!

Blaine: He’s playing with them!


Blaine: He’s breaking them one by one!


Blaine: He’s broken them all!


It takes all the soldiers to bring back the kid and stuff him back in the closet again.

Elaine: [To Blaine] Brilliant!

Blaine: [Taking her in his arms] Give some sugar to the king, baby!

Elaine: [Pushing away] No way! It’s not the end of the movie yet!

Tuna: Telemetry indicates we can’t remotely detonate the bomb any more!

Elaine shows Tuna to Blaine: “See?”

Tuna: Somebody will have to go there and detonate the bomb manually!

Blaine: We’ll need someone sympathetic yet thoroughly expendable…

He looks at Zarra.

Zarra: I’ve got LOBBY GROUPS on my side!

Blaine: Right. So let’s find someone suicidal!

Everyone stares at him.

Blaine: If some guy’s going to off himself, at least let’s make it work for us!


Blaine, Simon and Gunther enter the room, looking at people and trying to evaluate who’s most likely to go off the deep end. Everywhere, everyone is coming down the Kool-Aid sugar rush. Some are licking gun muzzles, staring at knives, thoughtfully rubbing knives on their wrists, rearranging mounds of pills on the table. Blaine, Simon and Gunther can’t find anyone adequate. Suddenly, Gunther’s eyes light up. In the back corner of the mess hall, someone (BRUBER) is crying while swallowing boxes of Pop Fizz. Tearfully, Bruber brings a two-litre bottle of Pepsi to his lips.

Gunther: NOOOOO!!

He jumps over the table, leaping on Bruber and knocking the bottle off his hands. He manages to land gracefully and to save the Pepsi bottle at the same time.

Gunther: Are you crazy? Trying to kill yourself?

For only answer, Bruber starts crying.

Gunther: Listen up; we think you’re right to kill yourself, okay? We just want you to do us a small favor before you do so…


The shuttle depart, leaving Bruber near the nuclear bomb.

Blaine: [Filt.] Okay, Bruber, do your worst!

Bruber twists and turns inside his spacesuit, to finally pop up a soft- drink can in front of his nose inside the helmet. He pops it open with his tongue, reaches for the nuke button, takes a sip from the can–

Bruber: Christ!


Everyone is huddled at the viewscreen showing the asteroid. They hear a spitting sound.

Bruber: [Filt.] You bastards only left me a can of Coca-Cola! Everyone looks at Simon.

Simon: Don’t they taste the same?

Blaine: Well, he sure performed the most crucial blindfolded taste test in the history of humankind.

Bruber: [Filt.] Yeah, well yap all you want; I’m not detonating the bomb.

Blaine: I’m surprised we haven’t been shown a countdown clock yet.

CUT TO clock: TIME UNTIL MAX DRAMATIC TENSION: 01:00… 0:59… 0:58…

Blaine: Ah.

Tuna: We don’t have time to go back!

Everyone: [To Tuna] Duh-uh!

Blaine: Gimme the mike. He sits down at a chair.

Blaine: Bruber! Listen up, you moron! You’re pure trash. You don’t deserve to live. You’re the lowest form of pure sucking scum. Earth has rejected you and you’re now the most isolated human being ever. Give it up, man. Push the button! Push the button!

Bruber: [Filt.] Sticks and stones may break my bones but at this point in the game, I laugh at your harsh petty little words.

Blaine: The red button, Bruber. Shiny glossy red button, Bruber. It’s calling you, Bruber. [Falsetto voice] “Push me, big boy! Turn me on, you macho man! Pound on me until I explode, stud muffin!”

Bruber: [Filt.] Listen up, man. You’re talking to a guy with a nuke.

Blaine: Bruber! I kicked your dog! I threw up on your coin collection! I molested your grandmother! I seduced your wife!

Bruber: [Filt.] I’m gay.


Bruber: [Filt.] So now you’re going to say you slept with my boyfriend?

Blaine: No, and that’s because he was butt-ugly! Face it, Bruber; your taste in men STINKS! Only rotten low-lives would choose to spend even a negligible portion of their time with you! I’m feeling soiled by talking to such an obvious reject of society! You’re so pathetic you’re a joke, man, a JOKE! Everyone here is laughing at your miserable LIFE!

He turns over the microphone to the assembled crowd, who are laughing riotously.





Baseball Umpire: The Earth is SAAAAAY-FE!

An explosion of celebration music swells up, overshadowing everything else until Gunther takes a remote out of his belt and clicks on the MUTE button.

Umpire: That is, if you ignore the thousands of asteroids fragments who are going to fall just about everywhere.


Sweeping view of a large deserted casino. Curiously, relics of the Montréal Canadiens are still everywhere. Down at the roulette table, a bad guy is holding the hero and heroine at gunpoint. Bad Guy: -and so, the diversion would have forced the police to make a trap so that my target would have escaped by another exit. There, two teams of rival gangs would be brought in by my informants and should have started to shoot each other, trapping the victim in the crossfire! Then, I would have wired the Ambulance so that it would explode as soon at they reached fifty miles an hour! I even hired someone to tailgate them! Ah- ha-ha-ha! Hero: But why do this? Why rig a boxing match, create a hurricane, kill the vice-president, call in the SWAT team, make me bonk Pamela Anderson- Bad Guy: Oh, the idiot cut me off in traffic this morning. But that’s no matter since I’m going TO KILL YOU! Ah-ha-ha-ha! The Bad Guy is squeezing the trigger when suddenly, a meteor smashes through the roof, tips over a roulette table and flattens the villain three stories down. The two dice on the roulette table end at the protagonist’s feet. Two Ones.


After landing, the shuttle rolls to a stop. Everyone runs out toward the free donut-and-coffee table. The President advances toward the heroes. All guys makes sure they’re between him and Elaine.

President: We are sorry to say that Kenny’s dead.

Simon: [Shaking his head] With only thirty-five years to go until his retirement…

Kept in leash by the president, the female journalist accosts Tuna.

Journalist: [Emoting again] But Bruber’s dead!

Tuna: We had a Bruber with us?

Elaine and Blaine are too occupied looking at each other to care about food, presidents or journalist in bondage gear.

Elaine: You can now dine me, wine me, kiss me and have your way with me!

Blaine: Yeah, but given that I’m the author’s alter-ego, won’t that make- believe fantasy wish-fulfillment warp him somehow?

Elaine: I think it’s too late to worry about that. He *did* make you go through that crummy plot.

They kiss. Camera pulls back to Zarra, Gunther and Simon.

Zarra: What a disgusting display of straight boring heterosexual behavior.

Gunther: Yeah, where are our just rewards?

A bus carrying the Swedish Female Volleyball Team stops nearby. Followed by a Chippendale emergency truck.

All: Thank you, Author!



Fade-In on Hometown River, where Henzilla slowly emerges from the waters, blackened and angry. He stares at the town, growls once, begins to walk toward it, steps on the highway-

-and is flattened by a meteor. A truck passes over the roadkill. Fade-out to credits.


Rockland, Ontario

September-October 1998

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.