H IGH VISCOCITY !

B ASED ON A T RUE S TORY

INT – D RESSING ROOM – D ECEMBER 21, 2012

A mustachioed European man, PHILLY FILLET, sits in his

dressing room applying makeup prior to the start of his show.
He hums the melody from “Honky Jihad.”

P HILLY

Confident. Sober. Masculine.

He grabs a handheld tape recorder from his dressing table and

clicks it on, paraphrasing:

PHILLY (CONT.)

Corn fed. So boring. Mescaline.

With a harrumph, he stands and leaves for the set.

INT – SET – F IVE MINUTES LATER

PHILLY stands on his queue off-stage, gripped with dread. The

time seems to stretch out before him without end. Finally, the
CAMERAMAN begins his countdown.

C AMERA M AN

...and five...four...three...

The cameraman mimes the “two” and the “one”, and Philly comes
onstage.

P HILLY

(Exuberantly)
Eh, everybody! Please to be
welcome to “The Fillet Show!” I
am Philly Fillet, your host, as
well as singer for our house
band, The Love Cuts- Please to
say, “Hello!”

The Love Cuts make a token musical effort to signal their

presence.
 PHILLY (CONT.)

Thank you! Tonight is a very

special edition of the “The
Fillet Show!” It’s our final
show, as well as the end of the
Mayan Calendar, and I promise a
big finish. I would like to start
the evening off with a poem,
however. I believe it may be
relevant still now:
“Let’s race to the front of the
line. Don’t you know it’s the end
of time? Let’s race to our
separate schools of unspoken
rules, and celebrate the Yule,
differently...”

Philly pauses to pace the audience.

P HILLY (CONT.)

“Let’s race against each other,

one another, like sisters and
brothers, not knowing their
bread. Let’s pace the other
colors, the bar-bars and cutlers,
even the dead...”

Philly pauses again, to pace the audience.

P HILLY (CONT.)

“But we be seven, an’ you is one.

You gots five dollars, an’ we has
none. Our childs wear clothes
with holes and lice, so our purse
grows fat...we go play dice!”
Thank you. That was a poem I call
“Eight Brothers”.

Philly takes a cheesy left-right glance as a member of the

audience murmurs.

H ECKLER

Did you hear that? I dropped my

pen.

P HILLY

Well, if you must know, it’s

actually about seven Italian
brothers, and one “brotha’”.
After a brief stammer, the audience bursts into laughter.

P HILLY (CONT.)

And now that we are acquainted-

isn’t that quaint?- it’s time for
a message from our sponsors.
We’ll be right back after this!

ANNOUNCER

“The Fillet Show!” is brought to

you in part by Space Dockers
pants- New Slack for the Astro-
Age!

INT – SUBURBAN LIVINGROOM – CONTINUOUS (S PACE D OCKERS C OMMERCIAL )

A puberty-stricken boy, TIMMY, is playing video games.

V.O.

Feces Christ. Fact: it’s been

knock, knock, knockin’ on
heaven’s door since your last
supper.

The boy looks at the camera, and gasps in shock.

TIMMY

You’re right! But I’m almost to

six million points in my new
action shooter, Lollercaust. If
only I could poop faster!

V.O.

Now you can with new Space

Dockers brand pants!

The pants are displayed.

V.O. (C ONT .)

Space Dockers are the only SLACKS

that feature Astro-age, anti-
gravity zipper technology,
allowing Space Dockers to have a
zipper that starts in the front
and keeps on trucking!

As the pants are displayed, the zipper is demonstrated as

going from the front to the back waistband of the crotch.
 TIMMY

But that means...

V.O.

That’s right, Timmy, you can save

time pooping and get back to
mindless slaughter in no time!

T IMMY

But won’t people make fun of me

for wearing them in public?

V.O.

Poppycock! Space Dockers are all

the rage! AND they come in a
variety of styles:
slacks- for the working man;
denim- for the rebel without a
pause; khakis- for relaxed
movement; and even corduroy- if
you’re a fag!

T IMMY

Awesome! Here I come, economic

cleansing!

V.O.

Space Dockers: “prepare for

boarding!”

EXT – ZOO IN AUSTRIA - PHILLY IS 16

SVEN and PHILLIP are strolling around the zoo on a crisp

autumn day. Sven has a rueful countenance; Philly eats a cream
scone.

PHILLY V . O .

As I sit opening the heart charka

in the repose of deep meditation,
it occurs to me that there is
only one living and one non-
living thing, and they are
indistinguishable.

The two stop, standing in front of the baboon exhibit.

 S VEN

The factory is closed, Phillip.

PHILLIP

Of course it is father;
otherwise, we would not be
studying animal behavior now.

PHILLY V . O .

Life itself can be seen as the

development of DNA across space-
time. We are neurons; plants are
lung sacs; lizards are skin
tissue...

Sven pulls out his pipe and becomes distracted with its use,
as Philly raptly watches one of the baboons masturbate.

P HILLY V . O . (CONT.)

Fact: evolutionary heritage can

be traced because our DNA
possesses all the genetics of
every animal we descend from.

The baboon ejaculates and licks it off his hand. Sven, having
puffed, taps out his pipe.

SVEN

No, son...the factory will not

re-open. The machine is dead, and
now we must move.

Mimicking, Philly licks scone cream off his

hand.

P HILLY V . O .

I remember the short, cold days

of childhood.

PHILLIP

Have you spoken with Argo about

this?

Philly turns to gleam the answer from his father’s expression,

a dab of cream at the corner of his lip.
 S VEN

It was his idea. We leave for

America at the end of autumn, so
make your time!

They continue walking to the next exhibit, and Philly notices

a graffiti sign that reads, “You are NOW breathing manually;
do not Rhesus-itate!”

INT – PHILLY ’ S APARTMENT , C ASTRO D IST . – S EPTEMBER , 2001

PHILLY sits in meditation on a pillow of folded blanket. His

apartment is bare, hardwood, with a set of dishes, some
clothes neatly folded in a pile, and a hand recorder placed to
his side.

PHILLY V . O .

Then a most fundamental truth

occurred to me: I haven’t eaten
anything in a while.

Philly rises from his meditation position, deftly picking up

his hand recorder on the way, and struts to the “kitchen”. The
counter is littered with a few scraps of paper and rolling
tobacco.

P HILLY V . O . (CONT.)

So I woke my legs and drove them

as cattle to the kitchen. Here I
poured a bowl of cereal into
existence.

Philly pours a bowl of cereal and clicks on his recorder.

PHILLY

“As I sit opening the heart

charka in the repose of deep
meditation...”

Time-lapse...

P HILLY (CONT.)

“...occurred to me: I haven’t

eaten anything in a while.”

He gets light-headed for a moment, and catches himself on the

countertop.
 P HILLY (CONT.)

Ooh, déjà vu...

He clicks off the recorder and rolls a smoke, turning to

rummage his scattered papers- notes, memos and sketches
apparently. He mumbles and makes clicking noises to himself.

P HILLY (CONT.)

Let’s see...“stop laughing at

infanticide”...“Orange, Door
Hinge”...ah, “appointment: China
town, September 10, five p.m.,
you will meet with a Castrotti,
the answer is The Garten Party.”
Hm. Surely it’s not a castrated
choirboy?

He looks at his wristwatch; the time is 4:15 p.m.

P HILLY (CONT.)

Oh, shikza!

He races out the door.

E XT – TROLLEY – MOMENTS LATER

PHILLY is running to catch the trolley in time, barely

catching it.

P HILLY V. O .

Well, I’ve got amenities for my

enemies, so please, leave me be-
and stop callin’ me cheesy!

Philly jumps into the center of the trolley’s walkway, hip-

style hopping. He makes his way to the back, puffing a blunt.
[“Heavenly High” theme]
 P HILLY

My name’s Philly- Philly Fillet-

and the Fillet Minions are going
to cut you in twain, and give you
a rain check for your next
physical pain. Chop a sloppy loin
cut and serve it up with lo mien,
screaming “sex and violence, what
the fuck else is there?” Can’t
bear to spare the silence? Watch
the cremation of Care. You will
come to the conclusion that
illusion isn’t fair enough, so
share your stuff. I’m bluffin’:
when it comes to shit, I don’t
know nothing! ‘Cause I’m a
lyrical ship-wreck, with a
spiritual poop deck. I’m loopin’
the new tech first thought of by
Olmec. A convection of
convention, and I’m itchin’ to
kick this kitsch...’Cause I’m
heavenly high!

EXT – CHINA TOWN - CONTINUOUS

PHILLY gets off the trolley near the ancestral temple.

Immediately, he is dogged by a CHINAMAN peddling his wears.

C HINAMAN

You want incense the dead? One

darra’, one dozen!

P HILLY

No, that’s all right. I wouldn’t

want to incense the dead- that’s
usually when they start eating
the living, in my experience.

Philly brushes him off and walks away, but the Chinaman
pursues.

C HINAMAN

Incense? Dead?

Philly is clearly becoming irritated.

 P HILLY

Eh, you! Wait...are you the

Castrotti?

C HINAMAN

One dorra’, one dozen.

P HILLY

“The Garten Party”?

C HINAMAN

Ancestor tempar?

Bemused, Philly walks on to a corner vendor and purchases

wontons. His watch reads 4:59 p.m. He pulls out his hand
recorder and clicks it on.

P HILLY

Another eternal truth: There is

no sin, but sin- and it is
sinful.

He clicks his recorder off and puts it away. Looking at his

watch, it clicks over to read 5:00 p.m. and a car rolls up. A
FRENCHMAN pokes his head out.

FRENCHMAN

I hear you like mudkips. Where to

are you headed?

P HILLY

The Garten Party.

FRENCHMAN

What a coincidence! Let us share

this cab!

INT – CAB – MOMENTS LATER

PHILLY and LOUIS FRIEND are off to the Garten Party in their
cab. Louis seems to be making tea.
 L OUIS

Hello, Phillip. My name is Louis.

So tell me: how did you come to
find out about our...fraternity?

Louis tips the teapot into two small china cups.

P HILLY

A man named Argo. He’s...well,

he’s like my other father. How
the fuck did you get this cab?

LOUIS

Good genetics. Do you take sugar?

PHILLY

Two, please.

Louis plops two sugar cubes into Philly’s cup and hands it to
him, raising his own glass to cheer.

L OUIS

Salud!

Philly raises his to cheers, and takes a sip. Louis belts his
back like a shot of whiskey.

LOUIS (C ONT .)

Mama always said to keep a fire

in the belly. Have you been
performing the instructions of
your initiator?

PHILLY

I was prescribed a heart charka

meditation, I hold to it daily.

Louis tosses his cup out the window.

L OUIS

What about a diary or journal,

have you begun one yet?

P HILLY

I keep notes. Most recently, I’ve

been using this hounden.
Philly flashes his hand recorder.

L OUIS

Good, good. An odd choice, but an

inventive device, I must say.

Philly continues sipping his tea.

L OUIS (C ONT .)

So tell me a bit about your job

history.

Philly fidgets a moment, formulating a response.

PHILLY

Well...aside from the small odds

and ends? I was a magician- for
parties and that. But I have no
contacts here on the west coast.

LOUIS

Sounds like fun.

PHILLY

I hated it. I love magic, but

people suck the beauty out of it.

Louis strokes his chin.

L OUIS

Give us a look, then?

PHILLY

What- a trick? Now?

Louis nods and Philly’s heart jumps a beat. He pulls out his
tobacco and rolls a perfect cigarette.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

Do you mind?

Louis waves his hand. Philly pulls out a book of matches and
opens it, showing the inside to Louis. He tears a match out
from somewhere near the center and closes the book, striking
the match on the back in a smooth, singular motion. Then he
hands the book of matches to Louis while he lights his
cigarette.
 PHILLY (C ONT .)

This match looks good enough to

eat!

Philly shakes the match out and pops it in his mouth. After
showing it on his tongue, he swallows, washing it down with
the remainder of his tea.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

My favorite part about magic is

catching people off guard. If you
would please, open the matchbook.

Louis opens the book of matches to find the burnt match in the
book, reattached. Louis grins like a child on Christmas
morning.

LOUIS

Splendid, you’ll fit right in!

What about the recent past: what
work have you done lately?

PHILLY

Nothing. I’ve been living off

savings for some time now. I’m
not in trouble if I live within
my means, though work would be
nice.

LOUIS

Your English is immaculate! Where

are you from, perchance?

PHILLY

Austria.

Louis lights a cigarette of his own and contemplates this.

L OUIS

How would you like a job writing

articles for The Chronical?

P HILLY

That would be amazing!

 LOUIS

Good. We can discuss the details

of that later. For now, let us
enjoy the moment.

P HILLY

So how exactly does this thing

work?

Louis smiles behind a billow of smoke.

INT – A L OFT SOMEWHERE IN SF – T HE SAME MOMENT

COLONEL ANGUS- a stout muscle man- and FRANK LEE- a snarky

Englishman- are sitting around a coffee table in the den,
smoking a hookah.

F RANK

Allegedly, the man who sold this

fine smoke stuff to me was a
practicing shaman from Brazil.

He takes a lazy puff, and blows a smoke ring.

C OLON E L

Buyer beware: this item may

shrink your head with a voodoo
nut curse!

FRANK

Colonel, honestly, why would you

make such ghastly and stereotypic
remarks?

Colonel tears the hookah arm from Frank’s clutch.

C OLONEL

Did I? Do you recall the last

time I shared with you my caveat?

FRANK

Err...well, that was a different

case altogether, ol’ boy. We
shan’t be dredging it up again,
shall we?
 C OLONEL

Fer all I know, you’re bound to

make exactly the same type of
choices, so yes; we shall.

F RANK

Good God, you’re a twit.

Colonel takes a draw from the hookah and ponders.

C OLONEL

How did you come to meet this

man?

Frank cocks his head and joins the pondering.

F RANK

If I recall correctly, we met at

the shindig put on by that rather
squirrelly chap wot said he was
from Vancouver. Wots his fellow?

Colonel squints for a moment.

C OLONEL

...John?

FRANK

Kudos, Colonel! It’s astounding

that you could remember the name
of such a monumental bore!

C OLONEL

Libations were consumed, I

assume...

Frank shies sheepishly away.

F RANK

Moderately; I wouldn’t be had at

some boorish party without a
little fine tuning!

C OLONEL

Never the less, alcohol parted

your lips.
 F RANK

Oh, dear me- you’re right!

Colonel continues puffing, now vigorously, at the pipe.

C OLONEL

Perhaps I warned you about this

at the party before last. Perhaps
it still applies. Perhaps this is
our sixteenth exchange in a row
to start with a successive letter
of our Roman alphabet.

F RANK

Queerer and queerer, my friend.

Frank slowly reaches for the hookah arm.

C OLONEL

Right! So what have we learned?

F RANK

Stop, stop, stop! We’ve just kept

going! “P-Q-R”...and ye gods, I
began with “s”!

C OLONEL

That’s terrific.

Frank glares at Colonel through the hazy smoke.

FRANK

Ultimately, this exercise only

proves your hatred of me.

C OLONEL

“Validation, being what you seek,

is what you get.” Nietzsche,
“Thus Spake Zarathustra”.

FRANK

What the bleeding hell are you on

about?
 C OLONEL

Xenophobia and yourself- of

course, in your case, it may well
be justified not to trust anyone,
being so gullible and wot.

F RANK

You see here, now, ol’ boy: I’ll

not be taken for one of your
rides!

Colonel moves a speck of lint from his lapel.

C OLONEL

Zippletits! You already have!

Infuriated, Frank balls his fists.

F RANK

How do you do it? I must know!

There must be a method, you corn-
fed jackanapes, and I will find
it out, I will!

PHILLY and LOUIS walk in the front door, and the mood of the
room suddenly shifts.

LOUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!

FRANK

‘Ello guv’na!

Philly is taken aback and speaks meekly.

P HILLY

May I ask: what the hell is

going...?

Louis raises his hands to gesture comfort.

 L OUIS

Everything is under control,

don’t you worry! This is Colonel
Angus, storm trooper of the
southern fronts, and here is
Frank Lee- he just doesn’t give a
damn.

COLONEL

That is correct, sir!

Colonel and Frank puff and pass the hookah arm.

F RANK

Hell hath no fury!

Everybody is stymied by this statement and looks at Frank.

Suddenly unsure of himself and the situation, Philly turns
toward the door.

P HILLY

Our time is well past spent and I

will be taking my leave.

Louis rushes to Philly as he’s walking to the door.

L OUIS

Don’t leave or you will miss the

best opportunity you’ll ever have
to know what the hell is going
on.

COLONEL

I thought it was a good start.

FRANK

So did I; boy, give it a try!

L OUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!
 FRANK

‘Ello guv’na!

PHILLY

Maybe if I knew what was going

on, this would be better.

LOUIS

Absolutely! Let’s have a seat in

the den. Colonel, would you do
the honors?

They move to the chairs around the hookah in the den, and
Colonel chimes in.

COLONEL

“Do Not Test!” That is the first

rule.

FRANK

Never do test, mind you!

PHILLY

Exactly what does that mean?

Frank hands Philly the hookah arm and he takes a long, slow
draw.

L OUIS

Simply that you do not

understand...

COLONEL

...So don’t interrupt!

LOUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!

FRANK

‘Ello gov’na!

Philly passes the arm to Louis.

 PHILLY

Will it continue in this fashion?

Louis speaks through his quickly inhaled smoke.

L OUIS

Absolutely! Colonel, what is rule

number two?

COLONEL

“You are the enemy, and we are

you!”

F RANK

Isn’t it poetic?

PHILLY

Something like that...

LOUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!

FRANK

‘Ello gov’na!

P HILLY

...on the topic of Illumination:

can we get to that, soon?

L OUIS

Before too long, I would imagine.

Patience.

COLONEL

Sometimes it’s best to just let

things unfold at their own pace.

FRANK

Truth, good fellow!

 COLONEL

Another way to look at it is to

see it as a rose, budding after
the frost has melted by the
spring.

LOUIS

Certainly, one could easily

imagine that.

F RANK

Louis, would you mind the salad,

please?

L OUIS

Earnestly, kind sir.

Louis gets up and walks to the kitchen.

L OUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!

FRANK

‘Ello Gov’na!

COLONEL

Another rule is “The more you

get, the more you receive.
Management cannot be held
responsible.”

Louis pokes his head back in for a tic.

L OUIS

Bella Donna in their salad,

anyone?

FRANK

You are responsible. The more you

understand this, the better.
Philly starts to relax, finally understanding something that’s
been said.

PHILLY

So I understand. I’m prepared to

be responsible for myself.

COLONEL

Suppose you haven’t yet. What

then?

PHILLY

I can’t believe you end your

sentences with prepositions! Who
taught you to speak English?

COLONAL

Salvador Dali.

Frank gesticulates.

FRANK

He’s my favorite writer! I can’t

stand his painting, though. He
simply has no eye for color.

Louis returns to the room wearing an apron and a chef hat.

LOUIS

Everything is in order. Shall we

adjourn to the dining room?

FRANK

A splendid idea. Now we’re

getting to the heart of what
you’re after, boy!

C OLONEL

Venture a question: what’s you’re

title, son?

They stand and start to the dining room.

P HILLY

Err, Philly. Fillet. Philly

Fillet.
 F RANK

Naturally. Ol’ boy, that’s a

“Love Cut”, that is!

They arrive in the dining room. The table is set with four
bowls and a salad bowl in the center. They take successive
turns sitting in their places.

LOUIS

Tally ho!

Louis takes his seat.

COLONEL

Hail!

Colonel takes his seat.

FRANK

‘Ello guv’na!

Frank takes his seat.

P HILLY

Eh...?

Philly takes his seat.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

You know, this is kind of fun,

actually.

LOUIS

Everything is if you do it right.

Louis cradles the salad bowl and forks salad into his bowl,
and passes it to Colonel.

C OLONEL

If it’s the eye of a needle,

puree the camel.

Colonel passes the salad bowl to frank after his share.

F RANK

Sometimes we just make really

large needles.
Frank passes the bowl to Philly.

L OUIS

Tally ho!

COLONEL

Hail!

FRANK

‘Ello guv’na!

P HILLY

Now I get it...I think.

Philly takes a bite of his salad.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

Ewige Blumenkraft!

They all start eating.

FRANK

Excellent work Louis!

COLONEL

Excellent work indeed. I can

barely taste the mushroom.

PHILLY

Delicious! Wait, mushrooms?

FRANK

Louis, you didn’t tell him?

Louis erupts with laughter.

C OLONEL

Enough pussy footin’, let’s get

it on.

INT – THE ATTIC IN THE LOFT – 45 MINUTES LATER

Their magic mushroom salad is about to take effect. As they

sit in a circle, half-lotus, they talk to pass the time before
the ritual can begin.
 COLONEL

So what exactly did Argo tell you

about the Fraternity?

PHILLY

He said it was what keeps and

guards the essence of the true
religion, among other things. I’m
still not exactly sure what he
means by that.

They are passing a spliff around, smoking liberally.

FRANK

That’s not an untruth, but it

certainly isn’t the whole of the
matter, now is it Louis?

LOUIS

Certainly not. KLUTZ is just one

of an unknown number of cabals
that operate autonomously in the
Fraternity. Not only that, most
of the people in the cabals are
Alts. We are a Utility Cabal. We
do what is necessary, borrowing
from whatever works without
discrimination or apology.

FRANK

Fuck ‘em, even if they can take a

joke.

Everyone laughs.

PHILLY

What about KLUTZ? What for are

you calling yourselves KLUTZ?

COLONEL

King Lyria’s Uncouth Terror

Zenjas- KLUTZ. We are specialists
in psychological operations- and
everything is a matter of
psychology, boy.
 PHILLY

Why doesn’t the Fraternity have a

name?

LOUIS

Because of rule #33: “There is no

Fraternity. As such, it has no
name. Members of this Fraternity,
however, would be prohibited from
making any public associations
that would indicate the
Fraternity’s existence, were it
to exist.”

PHILLY

What about my Alt? How does that

whole thing work?

LOUIS

Slow your boat; we row merrily

down the stream. The time is upon
us. We will discuss in private
how it works after the ritual.
For now, how are you feeling?

Philly starts to smile- as if he’d just been laid for the

first time.

PHILLY

I feel...oh...wow- I think it’s

happening. No- I feel it’s
happening...

LOUIS

Now close your eyes and listen

only to my voice.

FRANK

And my voice!

COLONEL

And my voice!

Louis jerks toward Frank and Colonel briskly.

 LOUIS

HEY! “No-game time” means no

games.

Louis opens “The Psychedelic Experience” and begins reading.

L OUIS (CONT.)

“O nobly-born, listen carefully:

the radiant energy of the seed,
from which come all living forms,
shoots forth and strikes you in
the face with a light so
brilliant that you will scarcely
be able to look at it. Do not be
frightened. Obtain Buddha-hood in
the central realm of the densely
packed. You are now in the magic
theater of heroes and demons, the
trickster, the shape-shifter, the
wanderer- do not be afraid of
them, they are within you.
Remember the teachings.”

Louis gestures to Frank and Colonel, and they all get up and
leave the attic space to let Philly press on. They close the
door behind them.

C OLONEL

By golly, Placebo is the most

effective drug on the market.

INT – PHILLY ’ S MIND - CONTINUOUS

PHILLY is sitting in the attic and begins to hear strange

music reminiscent of Pink Floyd. He opens his eyes, revealing
them fully dilated, and finds he is in a Dali-esque mindscape:
he stands at the bank of a river gazing upon its surface and
discovers with horror someone trapped beneath its surface.

PHILLY

I must save this handsome devil!

Philly smirks at the intoxication of being a hero. The

reflection smirks back.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

What’s this, then? You enjoy

drowning, huh? Maybe you don’t
need my help...
Philly huffs and puffs. The reflection follows suit.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

Did I miss something? Is this a

joke? Where are the cameras?

Philly stares at his reflection, and they both cackle maniacal

laughter. While they laugh, an ANGEL approaches on foot. He
laughs in a talk-show baritone.

ANGEL

Ha HA! Yes! You see: laughing at

oneself is not only the best
medicine; it’s the first step
towards enlightenment!

Philly jolts.

PHILLY

Who the fuck are you? What the

shit is going on?

ANGEL

You certainly ask that a lot. I

have come to establish your Alt.

PHILLY

Oh.

ANGEL

It’s kind of cute and cheesy how

reactionary you are!

PHILLY

Eh! Stop calling me cheesy!

ANGEL

But that’s your new and holy

name: Stockholm E. Cheezy!

Philly is mildly disappointed.

PHILLY

You’ve got to be kidding.

 ANGEL

Surely not, snaggle puss. Look to

the sky in 2012.

Philly snaps back to reality drenched in cold sweat.

INT – THE FILLET SHOW ! SET – D ECEMBER 21, 2012

PHILLY does stand-up before introducing another sketch.

PHILLY

Welcome back, my tender loins!

Tonight, we’re going to do things
a little differently. Which is to
say, altogether the same- but my
way, for once.

Philly starts to pace back and forth.

PHILLY ( CONT .)

Chances are: you’re going to let

someone else form your opinions
for you, so why not let my
opinion be the pretzel that
clogged your trachea?

He approaches the audience, continuing:

PHILLY (C ONT .)

The facts are clear: most of the

people that want to form your
opinion care so much about you,
they’ll tear your very moustache
apart just to get a word in
edgewise. In all honesty, I don’t
give a shit about you, so I’ve
got no motive to steer you wrong!

Using sleight of hand, he produces a cigarette, and produces a

lit match with great flair to light the cigarette. After
taking a puff, he removes a coin from his left coat pocket and
rolls it across the knuckles of his left hand.
 PHILLY (C ONT .)

You’ll have someone to adore,

someone to respect. Hell, I’m a
pretty straight shooter: if I
don’t know, I’ll say “I don’t
know”; if I think you’re ugly, I
won’t compliment your
personality. I’ll even admit when
you successfully call bullshit.

He grabs the coin with his right hand, and takes the cigarette
in his now empty left hand. Blowing a smoke ring, he reveals
his closed hand is empty.

H ECKLER

Bullshit!

Philly reveals that his other hand holds only the cigarette.
He reaches into his right coat pocket to pull out an Ace of
Diamonds and handles it with his left hand.

PHILLY

Even better: my actual opinion of

things is so loose and
malleable...

He passes the card back to his right hand.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

I’m able to accommodate, pretty

much, any deficiency you have in
your personality.

The card vanishes from his right hand and instantly reappears
in his left hand. He repeats this a few times.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

Don’t worry, that’s not an

insult- everyone’s a bit fucked
up. And there’s a matter of
personal gain for me, of course!
Tomorrow, I get to wake up
knowing that there’s one less
douche bag out there what moves
me to daydreams of apocalypse
unannounced: You.

The card vanishes in a sudden flash of fire.

 A UDIENCE

(Variously)
Shit! What? OH SNAP! Et cetera!

PHILLY

It’s a Change we can Believe in!

The audience cheers and Philly takes a formal bow.

P HILLY ( CONT .)

Thank you! Thank you so much! Up

next: Nothing is Next, it’s
Always Now!

E XT – W ILDERNESS - C ONTINUOUS

PHILLY is in character as STOCKHOLM, playing a Russian

ascetic. He sits at a fire pit on a stump, staring into the
fire.

ST OCKHOLM V.O.

My wife died.

Stockholm throws miscellaneous items from a pile next to him

into the roaring fire.

S TOCKHOLM V . O . (C ONT .)

We tried to take child, but they

both died in birth. I found that
there was no reason for myself to
continue living, so I burned all
my belongings in a heap and
headed to my cabin to hang
myself.

S TOCKHOLM

Fudder nuts.

INT – CABIN - C ONTINUOUS

Stockholm is looking for a length of rope, when he suddenly

sees a poisonous snake!
 STOCKHOLM V.O.

Suddenly, I was accosted by a

venomous snake. I ran back to the
fire to get a torch, for I had no
weapons.

He runs back to the fire, and grabs a burning stick, panicky.

S TOCKHOLM V.O. (C ONT .)

And when I returned, I thrust my

torch at the snake and it caught
fire. But to my horror, it was
the rope that I was going to hang
myself with.

The scene shifts to Stockholm looking into the fire, flames

flickering in his eyes.

S TOCKHOLM

What happens next is nothing;

it’s always right now. I tell you
this so you will know what
enlightenment feels like when it
comes.

ANNOUNCER V.O.

The Fillet Show! is brought to

you, in part, by Jinn Gin. Injuns
Love Jinn Gin!

INT – B ARNYARD TAVERN – C ONTINUOUS (J INN G IN C OMMERCIAL )

JEREMY walks into the tavern and sits at the bar, where JIMMY
is washing glasses and watching the stock markets crash on the
T.V. News.

JEREMY

Gin and Tonic, rocks, double

time, Jimmy. I'm too sober to be
here, so saddle me up.

JIMMY

Sure thing boss...

Jimmy, half Apache Indian, speaks with a robust Boston accent.

He mixes the drink, clearly displaying a Jinn Gin bottle, and
makes small talk with Jeremy.
 J IMMY (C ONT .)

So what's up boss? Ya’ seem

kinda, I dunno, jumpy. Yeah,
jumpy. What gives?

Jeremy fidgets a bit, then looks at Jimmy.

J EREMY

Have you ever seen a man with a

worn-out, prolapsed anus squat on
a pint-sized mason jar and break
it, then spend two minutes
fishing out the shards with his
fingers?

Jimmy pauses a moment, then slides Jeremy his drink.

JIMMY

No, boss; can't say I have, as

such.

The Gin and Tonic is half-gone already.

J EREMY

Believe you me- you don’t want to

see that shit. You’d think I’d
have learned not to click on
websites titled “Number-People-
Number-Object”.

Jeremy cleans another glass and begins making a second Gin and
Tonic, again clearly displaying the Jinn Gin bottle.

JIMM Y

I have met a trout that played

the guitar, before. The first
strum was heavenly and the second
was hellish.

JEREMY

Yeah, right...

Jimmy stands- a looming, stoic Apache- deadpan.

JIMMY

He spoke to me. A very important

spiritual message.
Jeremy softens, and cocks his head in interest.

JIMMY (C ONT .)

He said: “I should a’ learned to

play piano.”

Jeremy stares like a dog that has just been shown a card
trick. He starts on the second Gin and Tonic.

JEREMY

You know, Jimmy- you are one

weird mother fu-

A meteor destroys the Tavern.

E XT – S TREETSIDE – C ONTINUOUS (J INN G IN C OMMERCIAL )

A gaze of pure desperation grips STOCKHOLM’s ascetic face.

S TOCKHOLM

Never be mistaken that

enlightenment is a plateau.

V. O .

Injuns love Jinn Gin! Do What

Thou Wish! Drink responsibly.

INT – L OFT D EN – S EPTEMBER 10, 2001, HOURS AFTER P HILLY ’ S T RIP

PHILLY is recounting his trip to LOUIS, COLONEL, FRANK and the

recently arrived PANDORA. They sit around the table with the
hookah.

PHILLY

...and I was convinced it was a

real person there, mocking me.
Then, suddenly, it was as if
there were some greater joke I
was unaware of and an angel
appeared before me...

Everyone wears a grimace of secret knowledge as Philly speaks.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

...He made fun of me, told me my

new name, and split.
 P ANDORA

Did he say anything else?

Philly off to one side, recalling.

PHILLY

“Look to the sky in 2012.” Is

everybody having to be a blessed
weirdo, even my angel?

P ANDORA

“...look to this guy in 2012”?

Louis gives Frank and Colonel a look and a nod and they excuse
themselves from the room for tea.

L OUIS

Now that Pandora is here you’ll

know everything you wanted to
know- maybe some things that you
don’t want to. But what’s a cake
without blood?

Louis takes leave, himself, giving them some privacy.

PANDORA

Do you know that was the

Narcissus experience?

Pandora, shifts her position, grabbing a lunch style box and

setting it on her lap.

PHILLY

The narci-what, now?

PANDORA

Narcissus- a Greek myth about a

prince that fell in love with a
river nymph because she was as
handsome as he, but she was
cursed to stay below the surface,
so he mistook her for himself and
walked away-blissful as ever in
his self-love.
 P HILLY

Sounds like a lot of masturbation

to me. Something I know all too
well, sadly.

PANDORA

This gives us a clue about the

Alt. You see, what we’re doing
isn’t just making a character- it
can be considered a separate
person to some extent. The name
itself tells us a lot more
detail...

PHILLY

Um...”Stockholm E. Cheezy”. It
sounds like “Stop calling me
cheesy”.

PANDORA

Stockholm, then? The Phonic will

tell you what the scripts
compiling are- that is, what
personality traits and behaviors
are being cultivated in
Stockholm. This is Teutontology;
we’re the Satanists of
Scientology, breeding thetans and
snorting engrams.

Pandora clutches her box and narrows her eyes, pursing her
lips.

PANDORA

I know Argo, you know. And Sven.

Philly drains of color and fills of dread.

PANDORA (C ONT .)

There’s a lot about them you

don’t know. They were...well,
they were part of the other side,
before you were born.

Pandora fidgets with her phone, noticing that the time is 9:45
P.M.
 PANDORA

I really have to go. Philly, it

was a pleasure to finally meet
you.

PH ILLY

Likewise...

Pandora struts out the door. Philly strokes his mustache and
Louis enters the room again.

PHILLY

So what was all that about a job

at the Chronicle? I mean, that’s
like writing for the New York
Times, or something. The job
doesn’t just fall into your lap.

LOUIS

Ah, you see: that’s because

you’re thinking of “The
Chronicle,” San Francisco’s
finest publication. But, in
reality, it’s “The Chronical,”
the “High Times” of sub- and
counter-cultures.

P HILLY

I see. Not “The Chronicle”.

LOUIS

It’s a paying position, I assure

you. Travel is included. There
will be plenty of exposure for
you to do what you wish later
down the line, and it beats
living within your means, doesn’t
it now?

PHILLY

Well...I suppose it does. What’s

my first assignment?

Louis seems almost to sit on the smoke he puffs.

 LOUIS

Freelance. Give me twelve-hundred

words on a topic of your choice,
something relevant to the theme.
Fact, fiction, parody- just make
it yours.

EXT – A PHONE BOOTH ON THE STREET – LA TER THAT NIGHT

PHILLY drops numerous coins into a phone booth and punches a

string of numbers. The receiver rings a few times, and ARGO
answers the phone.

ARGO

Yes?

At the sound of his voice, Philly sighs in relief.

P HILLY

Argo, it’s Phillip.

ARGO

Ah, son! How are you, boy? Your

father and I were just talking
about you. What are you doing
with yourself?

Argo’s dapper and cheerful voice rings through the phone.

PHILLY

Eh, settle down now! I’ve been

pretty good. I got a job, writing
for the...er, Chronicle...

Philly almost successfully disguises his deceit.

A RGO

That’s brilliant, my boy!

PHILLY

How’s New York? I miss it there.

ARGO

It’s good. The leaves are

changing color just now, and it
reminds me very much of our home.
Philly paces his breathing.

PHILLY

Have you...have you heard from

Maggie? Whenever I try calling, I
get no answer.

Argo hugs Philly through the phone.

ARGO

No, son- I haven’t. I’m sorry for

you. Just trust that things will
work out one way or the other.
They always do. Have you met the
Castrotti yet?

PHILLY

Yes, I did that today.

ARGO

Oh, wonderful! Now, you know

Sven, he thinks it’s a bunch of
hooey and blasphemy. It’s
probably best not to bring it up
to him.

PHILLY

I was curious: can you tell me

why Louis is called the
Castrotti?

ARGO

It’s simpler than you might

imagine. He used to live in
Castro before he moved to Little
Italy.

PHILLY

Oh. That was anticlimactic.

ARGO

Yes, well...like Chinatown,

everyone goes to Castro, sooner
or later.
Philly idly reads stickers and graffiti in the phone booth.
One sticker says, “Black sheep are still sheep.” Another
appears to say “GOOD” in black script. Below that is a
negative of the same sticker, and Philly notices that inside
the script it spells out “EVIL”.

PHILLY

And this Fraternity: it doesn’t

even have letters? Sigma Mu?
Lambda Pi? Is it even Greek?

ARGO

Well, it could be said to be

Greek. Certainly a lot of it is.
Remember, no speaking of this
with Sven.

PHILLY

I know, I know. How is...Sven,

anyway?

Argo fogs the mouthpiece of his receiver.

ARGO

He’s Sven. He will always be

grumpy, agitated, ill-
humored...but I love him.

PHILLY

Listen...I met Pandora. She told

me that you two had a sordid past
before I was born. What exactly
does that mean?

Argo agitates his spare hand.

ARGO

It was a long time ago. Truly, it

was. Your father and I used to be
in the Reich. A lot has changed
since then. I can tell you I hold
no reservations for that time in
my life. Your father,
however...well, he’s Sven.
 P HILLY

Oh...that makes so much more

sense now. Sven is a Nazi. I
always thought there was
something along those lines, but
he was literally a Nazi. That’s
great.

ARGO

Phillip, please...don’t make

something big out of this. Your
father loves you very much, even
if he has no idea how to express
it. He’s just a scared, little
man.

PHILLY

I don’t care. I’m done with him.

I’ll talk to you later Argo. Be
safe.

Philly hangs the phone back on its hook without waiting for a
response. A BUM has been waiting outside the phone booth.

BUM

Hurry up! I wanna go to sleep!

Philly removes his hand recorder from his pocket and clicks it
on. He clears his throat and speaks thoughtfully.

P HILLY

“Eternal Truths” are neither.

He opens the glass door and steps out of the booth.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

It’s all yours, soldier. Have a

nice life.

BUM

Yeaaah...shim a sun...can’t cunt

a pea...

The bum grumbles as Philly walks down the street.

INT – A PARTMENT IN NYC - CONTINUOUS

ARGO walks into the living room and SVEN is sitting in his
chair, watching the T.V.

ARGO

I was just speaking with Phillip

on the telephone. He’s been
making friends. He even has a job
now, writing for a paper.

Sven is nonplussed.

SVEN

Why did he move to that God-

forsaken city, San Francisco?
Everything is too loud,
too...animated. You can tell the
fennel from the chaff too easily,
it doesn’t suit me.

Argo rests in his own chair.

ARGO

You know, for all your bickering,

Philly is actually quite angry
with you.

SVEN

What else is new? He never

appreciates what either of us
does for him. The sacrifice, the
slaving...all for that ungrateful
snot.

Sven flips through the channels, having made his point.

ARGO

Well, it’s a bit more than that;

I’m afraid...he’s become privy to
the fact that we were once a part
of the Reichstag.

Sven stops flipping through the channels, gripping the remote

in vice.

SVEN

What does he know?

Sven’s eyes remain fixed to the screen as an infomercial
plays.

ARGO

That is about the extent of it, I

believe.

SVEN

Does he know about

the...experiment?

ARGO

No, I don’t believe so. It’s

possible. Highly unlikely,
though.

Sven goes back to channel surfing, settling on a commercial

break.

SVEN

Wheel of Fortune is about to come

on. Goodie.

T.V. ANNOUNCER

The proceeding is brought to you

in part by Mason Dixon Cider. By
the by!

EXT – DAY – C ONTINUOUS (M ASON D IXON C IDER C OMMERCIAL )

As COLONEL ANGUS leaves the supermarket, he pats down his

pants to make sure the hammer is snug and unrevealing.
Confident of his subterfuge, he proceeds down the street. At a
wastebasket, he rummages for an empty soda can. Finding one,
he removes a bottle of Mason Dixon Cider from his coat and
pours it into the can. He continues walking, taking a sip now
and again, whistling an old Dixie tune.

CONONEL

“Is..i-it's a beautiful hic Dixon

day, wwwith a beau-tee-ful Dixon
sway, and Mason-Dixon Cider, by
the by! It’ss a shame we have to
pay, for anything we say, when
Mason-Dixon Cider ‘as had a
try...”
Passers by give him looks of disgust and revolt. He shrugs
them off as he slips down an alley and climbs a fire escape
ladder, all the while whistling bits of his favorite song. As
soon as he arrives at the top of the building, he walks over
to a corner where his bum’s nest is. There he stands, drinking
the cider, whistling, and he removes the hammer from his
pants, setting it next to a pet kennel with a cat inside it.

COLONEL (C ONT .)

Oh, jus’ a lil’ more now...ahh,

that’s nice.

Colonel sets the cider down on the ledge, picks up a burlap

sack and holds it to the opening of the kennel.

COLONEL

C’mon now, lil’ precious...

The cat walks into the bag and Colonel cinches it closed. He
continues whistling his melody and grabs the hammer, giving it
a once over. Seeing that it is indeed well made, he rears back
and starts bludgeoning the burlap sack. The skyline fades from
amber hues to purple darkness and Colonel sighs to himself as
he drifts to sleep with his cider in hand.

V OICE O VER

Mason Dixon Cider...

EXT – NEXT DAY – C ONTINUOUS (M ASON D IXON C IDER C OMMERCIAL )

A sobbing girl in a Sunday dress staples “lost cat” fliers to

the phone poles along the street. In the background, Colonel
is seen on a fire escape, giving the “thumbs up” gesture.

V OICE O VER

...let the cat out of the bag.

Drink Responsibly.

INT – PHILLY’ S A PARTMENT – E VEN LATER THAT NIGHT

Philly unrolls his mattress on the floor, laying blankets on

top of it and crawls into bed. He lights a cigarette and
clicks on his hand recorder.
 P HILLY

I don’t know about all of this.

It’s kind of weird. But we’ll see
what we see when we see it, I
suppose. Remember to try calling
Maggie again tomorrow.

Philly clicks off the recorder and puffs on his cigarette.

After a moment, he clicks it on again.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Stockholm E. Cheezy. What’s the

“E” mean? Maybe it’s just “E”,
like the “S” in Harry S. Truman.
Also, come up with a topic for an
article.

He clicks off his recorder one last time and puts his
cigarette out. Sleep takes him like a virgin.

E XT – S TREET - T HE NEXT DAY

PHILLY is walking down the street and stops at a sidewalk

café, ordering a double espresso. As he sips his coffee, he
overhears a MAN and a WOMAN fervently discussing something
nearby him.

MAN

...and then the second one hit!

WOMAN

Two? No way, you’re lying! Two

planes were hijacked and flown
into the twin towers?

M AN

I’m not lying, it’s on the news,

come on I’ll show you.

The man and the woman walk briskly down the street. Philly
approaches the BARISTA.

PHILLY

Is what that man said true, would

you know by chance?
 BARISTA

I haven’t seen it, but that’s

what everyone’s been saying.
I...I...I just don’t know what to
do about it...

A familiar expression of desperation grips the barista’s face,

and Philly rushes to the pay phone. Locked safely inside the
booth, he slams money at the coin slot, eventually depositing
enough to dial MAGGIE’s cell number. It rings until he gets
her voicemail.

MAGGIE

Hi, this is Maggie! Leave a

message and I’ll hit ya’ back!

Philly hangs up before the phone takes his money, and dials
again. The phone rings until it goes to voicemail, and he
repeats the process again. Finally, she answers the phone.

MAGGIE

What? I’m working!

PHILLY

It’s me! Are you okay? Are you

safe? Is everything alright?

MAGGIE

Of course, why wouldn’t I be? But

now is not the time, I’m in the
middle of a meeting.

PHILLY

What?

MAGGIE

I’m in a meeting!

Philly wretches inside.

PHILLY

Maggie...you’re not in a meeting.

The World Trade Center was just
Suicide Bombed with two planes.
Where are you?
 MAGGIE

The...what?

Philly hears a MALE voice in the background.

MALE

Who’s that? Come back to bed,

babe, we got all day...

Philly slams the phone down, breaking the handset. He storms

down the street, torn by his own grief. Finally, he breaks,
and the personality of STOCKHOLM emerges, hipping and hopping
in a vaguely Brooklyn thug accent. [“Heavenly High” theme]

STOCKHOLM

This spliff was rolled with

cheese, and I’m hitting it with
ease. Hand it deftly to the left,
my name’s Stockholm E. Cheezy.
Believe me, and breathe in this
smoke, but don’t choke. Here’s
the roach, I rolled it seamless
in the back of the coach. You’ve
got to be heavenly high if you
wanna’ ride this ride. Eat a
bucket of fries and then go
reaching for the clear eyes. I’m
lying, this ain’t skunk- it’s
bunk and stressful bammer. Cock
the hammer back (Cock! Cock!) and
block the gamma! ‘Cause I’m a
lyrical shipwreck with a
spiritual poop deck. I’m looping
the new tech first thought of by
Olmec. A convection of convention
and I’m itching to kick this
kitsch- ‘cause I’m heavenly high!

INT – T HE F ILLET S HOW ! S ET – D ECEMBER 21, 2012

Philly Stands in front of the audience telling jokes.

PHILLY

He told me nothing rhymed with

“orange” so I hit him with a door
hinge!

There are a few chuckles here and there.

 PHILL Y (C ONT .)

How about this, have you heard

this yet, ladies and gentlemen?
An Eskimo was out in his kayak
one day, fishing. He got a bit
cold and started a fire.
Unfortunately, the kayak sank and
he died. It just goes to show,
you can’t have your kayak and
heat it, too.

Again, a smattering of chuckles issues from the audience with

a few groans this time, as well.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

You know what I think? I think

Jesus was a pedophile. They say
Jesus loves the little children,
all the children of the world-
but nobody loves a child like a
pedophile. So he must have been
one, right?

The audience quiets.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

Okay, you asked for it. I’m

pulling out the big guns. What
did the Tower say to its twin?

Anticipation floods the room, preserving the moment in amber.

PHILLY (C ONT .)

“I’m falling for you!”

Some members of the audience gasp, and one of them stands up

to boo.

H ECKLER

Too soon! Show some respect!

The crowd mobs behind the Heckler.

PHILLY

If it’s too soon, the terrorists

have already won, I tell you.

All have laughter with great merriment, as the tension breaks

over reason’s head.
 PHILLY

Next, we have a sketch called

Verboten Fruit. Enjoy!

EXT – T HE G ARDEN OF E DEN - C ONTINUOUS

ADAM and EVE are basking in the warmth of paradise. Eve feels
the draw of nature and excuses herself.

EVE

I’m just off to use the toilet,

love. Be right back!

ADAM

Right. Don’t fall in, hon.

Eve walks to a toilet exalted on a radiant mound of earth. She

climbs onto the toilet and does the deuce, wiping herself with
a fig leave. She is about to flush the toilet when a SERPENT
coils up the tank and speaks to her.

SERPENT

Sssstop! Don’t flushhh that

toilet!

EVE

But...that’s what you do.

SERPENT

Yesss...but I sssay unto you:

breathe deeply the air of the
bowl, and ye ssshall be asss
Godsss!

Eve sticks her head in the toilet bowl and huffs the fumes of
her own excrement. She gets dizzy and becomes euphoric. When
she comes around, she rushes to Adam to show him her
discovery. They walk back to the toilet and Eve instructs
Adam.

EVE

Now stick your head in all the

way, and breathe as deep as you
can.
He gets dizzy and rolls on the ground. Eve huffs again, as
well. They roll along on the ground, until GOD’s thundering
voice scares them. They both hide among the bushes.

GOD

Why, children, do you hide from

your creator?

ADAM AND EVE

Because we’re naked.

GOD

Who told you that?

ADAM

Well, we breathed the vapor of

our own excrement and it just
sort-of occurred to us.

GOD

You What? The Verboten Fruit?

ADAM

Eve made me do it!

EVE

I was told by the serpent!

God hands them each a pair of Space Dockers Jenkem Cut pants.

GOD

There, you’re not naked anymore.

Now get the shit out!

Adam and eve exit the Garden of Eden holding hands.

V.O.

Space Dockers, new Jenkem Cut!

Space Dockers- “I wouldn’t do
that if I were you!”
E XT – G OLDEN G ATE P ARK – S EPTEMBER 11, 2001 (L ATER THAT DAY )

PHILLY is walking to Golden Gate Park, blowing off steam. He

walks through a tunnel and a sign is posted that reads “Total
Autonomy Zone”. On the other side of the bridge is like
another world, filled with hippies and jugglers and other
sordid freaks. Philly walks up a hillside and finds a soft
spot in the grass to sit. There he rolls a joint and begins to
smoke. As he begins to feel fluid and heavy, a fragile looking
Asian man, N’YO BÉ, approaches Philly and sits beside him. He
begins to speak in a rapid, entranced voice.

N’YO BÉ

I can see you are a man who is

learning that he is troubled and
I can see that you are a strong
man who has been hurt very badly.

Philly winces.

N’YO BÉ (C ONT .)

Yes, and I can see what the good

lord, she shows me she hurt you.
It was a girl, yes?

Philly nods his head.

N’YO BÉ (C ONT .)

I can see now very clearly that

you are the man who is learning
that his lover is with another
man, Yes? And it was recent you
discovered this. Twelve,
maybe...no, six...hours ago? That
recently?

Philly takes sudden interest at the accuracy of this random

statement.

P HILLY

How did you know that?

 N’YO BÉ

Your countenance, for one, cries

out in agony. And I can see your
Karmic Aura. It’s okay for you,
though; you’re going to be
alright. She’s just not right for
you, you know? She has lot of
growing up to do yet, and you so
much more to accomplish.

Philly tokes and passes it to N’yo Bé. N’yo Bé takes it and

grabs Philly’s hand, gazing at the palm as he smokes.

N’YO BÉ (C ONT .)

I can see you are the man who is

filled to overflowing with
creative force, and you drive
this force in all directions,
sometimes so much that you loose
all focus, and the energy fades.
Take a break, the bread must
rise. You don’t work in
television or radio, do you?

P HILLY

No, I don’t.

N’YO BÉ

Ah, but you do play music, I see.

Yes? And the television or radio
is definitely there- it’s
close...within the decade. Right
now, you...I see a feather
standing in the mud. You are
writing for a living, now, but
like most things- it wasn’t quite
what you were expecting, yes?

Philly takes his turn again with the joint, nodding where
appropriate and smiling as the details seemingly get more
precise.

P HILLY

This is...I cannot describe...

 N’YO BÉ

Just go with it. The feather- I

see two of them now, they are
rising up to the sun. Something
is wrong with the relationship of
the father to the son.

Philly’s eyes snap, alerting N’yo Bé that he’s made another

accurate prediction.

N’YO BÉ (C ONT .)

Please, tell me about this.

P HILLY

Well, I got into a fight with

my...father the other day.

N’YO BÉ

It was you father? There are two,

no? And they have done something
unusual that you highly
disapprove of- but it isn’t their
affair. Tell me about that.

P HILLY

I just...I found that they were

part of the Third Reich, and it
filled me with disgust.

N’YO BÉ

Yes, I can see that would be

upsetting. At least one of them
is a member of the Fraternity.
You should talk to them about it!
I’m sure they would explain
everything, even the experiments.

PHILLY

The what? How do you know about

the Fraternity?

N’YO BÉ

I couldn’t really say; I don’t

know anything about that, really.
Have an intriguing day.
N’yo Bé rises to his feet and walks away down the hillside.
Philly finishes smoking his joint and rolls a cigarette. He
clicks on his hand recorder and speaks into it.

P HILLY

The leaves fall of grace, only to

stop the ground. Here must have
been something unholy...

INT – T HE KLUTZ L OFT – T WO WEEKS LATER

PHILLY is traveling to the Loft after typing his article for

The Chronical. He knocks meekly on the door and LOUIS answers.
He walks in the door and PANDORA is sitting in the Den.

L OUIS

Bon jour? I hear we’ve been

having strange whether for
September...would you like to
talk about it?

P HILLY

Weather? The World Trade Center

is demolished by terrorists and
you want to talk about the
weather?

L OUIS

Yes; the “Whether-or-Not” of the

situation!

Pandora animates at the sight of Philly filing listlessly into

the room.

P ANDORA

Hey, sweetie!

P HILLY

“Whether or not?” It’s death and

Chaos in New York right now and
you’re making jokes?

He slumps down and scowls as Louis strides into the Den.

 L OUIS

It is more than just a joke. We

need to figure out who did it.
The “Whether-or-Not” pertains to
whether or not the attack was by
Them, or if it was one of Us
striking at Them in some horribly
inappropriate manner...

P HILLY (C ONT .)

My girlfriend worked in one of

those towers!

Pandora’s heart breaks in pain and sympathy. Louis lowers

himself into his seat.

L OUIS

You must forgive me; I had no

intention to offend you, and it’s
a terrible thing for your
girlfriend.

P HILLY

Um...yes, well- she wasn’t at

work. I got through to her cell
phone, though.

Philly sniffs and wipes snot from his nostril.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

She was with another man.

Pandora sets aside her box and wraps her arms around Philly,
consoling him in his grief.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

I felt completely destroyed and I

think...I think I...whatever it
is...with my Alt.

L OUIS

I call it “shape shifting”- but

you can call it what you like.
This is good...Have you given any
thoughts about your article?

Philly starts out of a daze and produces his typed draft of

the article of prose.
 P HILLY

I finished the draft today, but I

started it two weeks ago.

L OUIS

“The leaves fall of grace, only

to stop the ground...” That’s
good stuff. I like the plant
imagery. I’ll go fax this to the
office.

Louis absconds to his office.

P HILLY

I...I didn’t feel like I was in

control of myself. Why was that?

Philly plays at being aloof and disinterested with Pandora.

P ANDORA

Oh, you’ll get used to that,

silly! When I first started
Alting I was flip flopping all
over the place.

P HILLY

Do I need to go through the

ritual again?

Pandora giggles at Philly.

P ANDORA

You didn’t have to do the ritual

in the first place.

Philly cocks his brow.

P ANDORA (C ONT .)

You didn’t even eat magic

mushrooms. It’s called the
Placebo Effect.

P HILLY

What are you talking about?

 P ANDORA

Think about it: the only reason a

drug has any effect on you is
because the body can naturally
produce it or something
incredibly similar. So, there are
ways to get the effects of a drug
without using it.

P HILLY

You MUST show me how to do this!

P ANDORA

I’ll show you later. This moment:

you should be having fun! And I
think I have the perfect thing to
do!

Pandora picks up her box and removes a folded flier. She hands
it to Philly still folded. He unfolds it and reads aloud:

P HILLY

“N.R.A.: The National Racist

Association. Meeting at 6:30 p.m.
on Monday, October 1 st at Cracker
Jack’s Pizza. Represent your
Pride!” What is this, now?

P ANDORA

Oh, just a little something I put

together.

I NT – C RACKER J ACK ’ S P IZZA – MINUTES LATER

PHILLY and PANDORA are at a table eating pizza and passing the
time. “Beans and Rice” plays on the radio.

P HILLY

...and then I got smashed in the

face with my own urine-filled
water balloon.

They share a tender moment of laughter before Philly catches

himself. Philly digests and assimilates this as a SKINHEAD
walks in the front door. The skinhead orders a slice of
pepperoni and sits in the corner of the room.
 P HILLY ( CONT .)

So...what exactly is going to

happen here? Because, I have to
say, honestly...I’m not really
the kind that has...issues...with
other colors.

Pandora giggles ambiguously.

P ANDORA

Just observe, then. Don’t get

involved.

Not a breath after she says this a short ASIAN in leather and
sunglasses walks into the restaurant. He orders a Hawaiian
with garlic and sits a few tables away from Pandora and
Philly.

P HILLY

I don’t think I want to be

here...

P ANDORA

Just hush. Pretend we’re talking

while the television is on;
they’re just background noise.

P HILLY

I think I can do that. So what

happens next?

A MEXICAN walks in and orders a mushroom and sausage. Seats

are becoming scarce and he sits between Philly and the Asian.

P ANDORA

Next? Nothing happens next, it’s

always right now!

A BLACK MUSLIM walks in and orders barbeque chicken pizza. He

sits between the skinhead and the Asian. As he eats his pizza,
the skinhead leans over to him and asks:

S KINHEAD

You know, I’ve always heard it

was true about you brothers-
maybe you could tell me?
The black man stops eating his pizza and looks at the
skinhead.

B LACK M USLIM

Yes?

S KINHEAD

The big dick thing- any truth in

that? I would think that
stereotypes are wrong and, so,
there wouldn’t be truth in it-
don’t you agree?

The Asian seems to take a keen interest in the Black man’s

reply.

B LACK M USLIM

My penis is exactly the length

and girth that God Allah has set
forth as he decides, as he does
for every man- even yo’ cracka’
ass!

The skinhead shoots out of his chair, sending it backwards.

S KINHEAD

You wanna do this? C’mon!

A SIAN

Oh, snap, son! You gonna’ let him

talk smack on you like that?

B LACK M USLIM

I would not disgrace myself with

such an unworthy adversary! God
will deal with the likes of you
in his time! Now let me eat my
barbeque chicken pizza in peace!

He continues eating his pizza without further acknowledgement

of what had just transpired.

M EXICAN

Yeah, man! You guys need to just

chill out, okay? Too much shit
going on right now- don’t do it.
 S KINHEAD

This nigger Muslim takes a

simple, honest question and turns
it into an attack on me! Why the
FUCK should I chill out?

A SIAN

Yeah! Butt the fuck out, Beaner!

M EXICAN

Beaner? Did you just call me a

Beaner?

S KINHEAD

Well, you are.

A SIAN

Yeah!

M EXICAN

I ain’t no Beaner, you goddamned

Gook. I’m White as sin.

Everyone in the pizza parlor turns to look at the Mexican.

B LACK M USLIM

You appear to be some Latin or

Central American, if I’m not
mistaken.

The Mexican thinks they’re putting him on.

M EXICAN

No. My parents are white. I just

tan a lot.

S KINHEAD

Yeah, why’s your back still wet

then?
 A SIAN

What kind of fucked up perception

does it take to think you’re
another race? I mean- it doesn’t
even matter that I’m white and
you’re not...

The focus of eyes shifts to the Asian.

S KINHEAD

Dude. You’re pretty pale, but

you’re a slant eyed ching chong
ping pong! Actually- if chinky
here grew a thin mustache they’d
look pretty much the same, huh?

B LACK M USLIM

Ha! Beans and Rice!

The Mexican and the Asian, infuriated and confused, storm out
of the restaurant and go their separate ways.

S KINHEAD

Maybe people aren’t so different

from one another, after all.

B LACK M USLIM

Shut the fuck up, white man.

E XT – S TREET S IDE – MINUTES LATER

Philly and Pandora are walking down the street after the
ordeal at the Pizza Parlor. They are talking as they make
their way back to the KLUTZ loft.

P HILLY

So you, what, arranged that- that

scene there?

Pandora giggles something of a trademark now.

P ANDORA

Racists are bound to hate. It’s

easy to screw with them.
 P HILLY

I see.

P ANDORA

All I did was post copies of that

flier I showed you around the
BART station and rural transit
stops. The rest was just
statistical inevitability. But
those whack-jobs are going to be
changed for that experience
somehow.

P HILLY

That sounds like so much fun!

Where have you been all my life?

Pandora giggles.

P ANDORA

It’s called “Operation: Mind

Fuck.” Sometimes it’s called a
Golden Apple Seed Mission, or
GASM.

P HILLY

Heh- you said “or-gasm”!

P ANDORA

Oh! I did!

They laugh together.

P ANDORA

The idea is to stir things up,

bring about a bit of chaos. Make
everyday life a little bit
weirder.

P HILLY

Why does it all have to be so

weird, though?

P ANDORA

Because that’s how things really

are.
Philly ponders a moment, when a smashing idea strikes him.

P HILLY

I’ve got it! Racism! That’s it,

that’s perfect!

P ANDORA

Huh?

P HILLY

Racists! That will be my special

mission! And a good reason to
learn how to use my Alt.

P ANDORA

There you go! Get excited,

because this really is a lot of
fun!

I NT – T HE K LUTZ L OFT – M INUTES LATER

FRANK and LOUIS are chatting in the Den.

L OUIS

“So, when our terrafirmitory is

impinged upon do we feel it; when
it is vibrant with lithe life-
things and goings-on, we are the
freshness of youth. When it is
pregnant, there is a joy that
knows no bounty. When it falls,
as we have so many times
ourselves, therein lays the stink
of death, ripe with
satisfaction.”

F RANK

Bravo, kind sir! What is he

calling it?

L OUIS

It says, “The Liturgy”.

F RANK

How quaint.
The doorbell rings and Louis scuttles off to answer. He opens
the door to PANDORA and PHILLY.

L OUIS

Ah, young Philly! We were just

discussing your prose. What
impeccable timing, do come in.

They enter the Den and sit.

P HILLY

It’s all right? Is there anything

you want me to rewrite?

F RANK

Oh, goodness no! We think it’s

absolutely stunning!

L OUIS

It’s in the next issue.

P HILLY

But that was a first draft.

L OUIS

I see. So you’re that good?

Philly is left stammering as Louis pulls out a checkbook and

writes a nine-hundred dollar check to Philly.

L OUIS

If this is something you would

like to continue doing, I am
interested in keeping you on as a
member of the regular writing and
editing staff.

P HILLY

Very much so, and thank you!

Pandora nudges Philly.

P ANDORA

Philly came up with a great idea!

Why don’t you tell them?
Philly begins to say something, but pauses.

P HILLY

Is it okay if I call my guy and

get some dank first?

L OUIS

Of course!

Philly walks over to the phone and dials.

P HILLY

Hey Cocoa? It’s Philly...

I NT – T HE A TTIC – ABOUT AN HOUR LATER

PHILLY, LOUIS, FRANK, PANDORA and COCOA are in the attic,

smoking and generally sidetracked and bullshitting.

C OCOA

No, but I heard that if you

sneeze with your eyes open, your
eyes would pop out of their
sockets.

Cocoa pantomimes his eyes dislocating. He is a Burly man with

brightly colored hair and a red beard. His clothes are as loud
as he is.

P ANDORA

No, silly! That’s just something

that people say.

C OCOA

Shut up, batch!

Cocoa animates his every word and action.

P HILLY

I told you Cocoa would be a hoot.

L OUIS

Eh, what was that...uh, big idea

you had?

Philly tries to explain as he’s coughing his lungs out.

 P HILLY

Oh...ahem ah...yes that...White

Rapture, um, Black Magic, ah ach
and Grey Matter...

F RANK

I’m afraid you’ve lost me now.

Philly takes a moment to catch his breath and starts over.

P HILLY

Well, we were just at a pizza

place and four different racists
of four different races got into
an argument.

P ANDORA

That was the project I was

telling you about.

L OUIS

Oh, nice.

P HILLY

...and on our way back, it hit

me: the same thing, only so much
bigger; a farce to rival the Klan
or the Reichstag that would
attract racists, but flip them
over like.

Philly gestures with both hands flat, turning them over.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Is there something I can draw on?

Cocoa pulls a tablet from his messenger bag.

C OCOA

I have a sketchpad; use this.

Philly takes the tablet and a pen and starts drawing, ending
up with a familiar pyramid symbol.
 P HILLY

This is the Triangle, the All

Seeing Eye- it represents the
Black Magic, the veil of reality.

Philly draws a line entering the left side of the pyramid from
an angle.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

This is the White Rapture of

Light, or what you might call
“pure experience”. It passes
through the pyramid of Black
Magic, the veil of reality known
to the Indians as Maya.

Philly draws a series of lines going from the right side of

the pyramid outward.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

This is the Grey Matter, where

the light is refracted into all
it’s wavelengths and we project
our theater of the mind onto the
world around us.

The overall image is along the lines of the Prism logo from
Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album.

C OCOA

Dude- that’s Pink Floyd.

P HILLY

I know! They’re Great!

Cocoa gets a text message and grabs his bag.

C OCOA

I’ve got to make another

delivery. You can hang onto that
for now, Philly.

Cocoa leaves and the conversation resumes with more candor.

L OUIS

Have you had any other ideas

about this?
 P HILLY

Not yet- I mean, it’s still just

fresh in my mind.

F RANK

Looks like you have more

potential than we initially
thought, ol’ boy!

Frank excuses himself to bed. Louis Grabs hold of Philly’s

shoulder and looks him sternly in the eye.

L OUIS

Do you feel comfortable switching

to your alt right now?

P HILLY

You’re sure this isn’t going to

fuck me up mentally and make me
kill someone or something?

L OUIS

It’s no worse than thinking bad

thoughts about someone. Probably
better, in fact.

P HILLY

Okay. I think I’m ready.

Philly closes his eyes and visualizes his symbol, silently

repeating the mantra “Stockholm E. Cheezy”. Philly’s eyes
flicker open as STOCKHOLM takes over, entering with a grin.
[“Master Race” theme]

S TOCKHOLM

You can tell by my smile, this

Übermensh has guile. While I’m
pushing the dial, I make it known
that I’m a Phile for Osophy...

They all jump a little from Stockholm’s abrupt emergence.

 S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

...and possibly subject you to

microscopy as I grab the mic and
plant this kike like a Fichus
tree. Inject you with beef,
‘cause my pork isn’t kosher. Fo’
sho’, sir, I’ll show ya’ what’s
okayed by OSHA. Hit ya’ with a
blitz and then, ah svitz! There’s
a ring around your neck, I think
I’ll rinse it as I slit your
wrist...

Stockholm pantomimes slitting his wrist open.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

...with a kiss on your cheek.

Your mind is kind of weak. Just
like that scruffy Judas creep,
I’ll sell you short for Thirty
cheep and buy a jeep. Maybe get
some sleep as countries of
monkeys try to storm my keep. In
the morning when I wake, I’ll
make an egg Umlaut and maybe stir
the melting pot as Bradley
Knowles plays, “What I Got”. He
knew the secret to living a
lovely life, even though he died
and made a widow of his wife!

I NT – T HE F ILLET S HOW ! S ET – D ECEMBER 21, 2012

Philly is once again standing before the audience, this time

rapping. [“Heavenly High” theme]
 P HILLY

Highlight the left side, low-ride

the low tide, move it through the
middle, hit the sky, rise,
metastasize. Surprise, it’s me!
Who’d you think it would be? I’m
just a tapeworm restin’ in your
lower intestine. Interestingly:
it’s the best place to be if you
wanna’ get the giggles as I
wiggles to be free and get my
groove on, G! Loving every mother
lover, ‘cause the ladies I know-
they all love mesquite. Well, I’m
a lyrical shipwreck with a
spiritual poop deck. I’m loopin’
the new tech first thought of by
Olmec. A convection of
conviction, and I’m itchin’ to
kick this kitsch. ‘Cause I’m
heavenly high!

The music wraps up, and Philly remains in a hip-hop pose for a
few seconds before continuing. Sweat drips from his brow and
the collar of his shirt is unbuttoned.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Welcome, friends and enemies, to

the middle of the show!

Philly re-postures himself, his tone visceral.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Now, we are all adults here; we

can cut the trim and chew the
cud. And I may yet regret this,
but I must share with you some
Truth. There are many groups with
private interest that do not want
you to know what I am about to
say: almost everything you have
been taught about reality is
wrong.

Philly makes shifty eyes to theatrical effect. A white

projection screen lowers behind him and the projector hums.
 P HILLY (C ONT .)

You see, history is just another

fiction written by the victors.
Since late prehistory, two
prevailing philosophies have been
in conflict:

Philly produces a cigarette, and slides click in the projector

as images of ancient ruins flash on the screen.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...the philosophy of Control...

He lights his cigarette. The projector clicks to an image of a

farm.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...and the philosophy of Choice.

One group followed the way of
Choice, and so built many gods
for them to reflect their
diversity. From them, the
followers of Control proclaimed
that there was one God, and they
followed all his rules, or at
least tried.

This quip gets Philly a few chuckles and a gut laugh. The
projector clicks through a few immediately identifiable
religious symbols.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Initially, they all commingled,

but the monotheists craved more
control and tried to subvert the
established order of polytheism.
Enter: Egypt.

Philly takes a puff as the projector clicks to an Egyptian

scene.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

The Hebrew populace integrated

like piss and vinegar, Egypt
wasn’t having their One-God-
Nonsense! Exit: Egypt.

The projector shows a still of the Exodus.

 P HILLY (C ONT .)

Again nomadic, the Hebrew people

migrated to the area of Turkey,
where they called themselves
Egyptians, and came to be
Gypsies.

There is more heated laughter from the audience, some nervous,

but more hearty. The projector clicks off and the screen rises
again.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

And from them, the three major

Western Religions, every
governmental institute, every
economy in the world exists- and
it’s all just a Gypsy Grift.

Philly steps forward.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

There are those who resist the

status quo, however. Sufi,
Gnosticism, Hermetica, Cabala,
Zen- they all prefer choice, they
all prefer direct experience. I
call them the Volks Vegan- Plant
People. You have to ask yourself,
now: what do you trust? The
people who tell you what to
think, how to feel, what to eat?
Or yourself? I will leave you
with this thought: Truth is such
that it is manifest in the
thickest of lies. Ewige
Blumenkraft! Eternal Flower
Power!

E XT – A GRASSY S LOPE - CONTINUOUS

A parody of Dora the Explorer plays, reading “Pandora the

Explorer.” PANDORA stands at the bottom of the slope in
suggestive clothing.

P ANDORA

Hello! I’m Pandora the Explorer!

Let’s explore Greek Mythology
together!
Just as she finishes speaking, a boulder rolls down the slope,
resting at the bottom. A grizzled, aching man hobbles down the
slope and positions himself behind the boulder. He heaves,
nudging the boulder along, back up the slope.

P ANDORA (C ONT .)

This is King Sisyphus in

Tartarus, the Greek Hell. Because
he stole, he spends eternity
rolling this rock up the slope,
only for it roll back down. And
the cycle continues. Can you say,
“Pointless?” Good job!

Pandora skips along to the next scene. A lavish bedroom waits

for its inhabitants. They walk in, feverishly kissing. They
pull and strain at their clothing and roll on the bed in their
throes of nuptial passion.

P ANDORA (C ONT .)

This is the Bedroom of the

recently Crowned King Oedipus. He
doesn’t know it yet, but he just
killed his father to marry his
mother. Can you say, “Over
Eager?” Great!

Pandora skips along again to the next scene. ZEUS has set out
a Canopy party for HERA.

P ANDORA (C ONT .)

Here, Zeus is throwing a party!

Yay! He invited everyone...that
is, except Eris, the Goddess of
Strife, because she makes
mischief. She was kind enough to
send a present, anyway.

As the festivities are in full swing behind Pandora, a golden

apple flies into their midst. It tumbles on the ground a bit.
When it stops, the inscription clearly reads “For you, Dummy.
LOL!”

P ANDORA (C ONT .)

Let’s see what happens!

Hera, APHRODITE and ATHENA all set their eye on the golden
apple. Each is aware of the others’ gaze. Hera walks over to
the apple and picks it up.
 H ERA

Who but Eris would give me such a

disrespectful gift?!

Hera casts the apple to the side. Aphrodite picks it up and

holds it out towards Athena.

A PHRODITE

Well, it say’s “dummy”- maybe it

was meant for Athena?

A THENA

How clever you are, my little

twit. But since you say so...

Athena tries to snatch the apple from Aphrodite, sending

herself slightly off balance. Hera seems amused.

A PHRODITE

It was meant for me, of course!

Eris knows I’m the only one
around here with a sense of
humor.

H ERA

Now see here! It’s my party, it’s

my gift! You dimples haven’t a
wit about the two of you!

They ensue with petty bickering over rightful possession of

the apple.

Z EUS

Alright! Hey! Everybody: Shut!

Up! I’ll choose for you an
impartial, random arbitrator to
sort this. BAM! PARIS, the
goatherd, come on down!

Paris is wearing a game-show contestant nametag. He jogs

through the crowd, shaking his hands in the air like an idiot.
Zeus pulls over a stool for Paris to sit on.
 Z EUS

Hi, Paris! It’s wonderful to meet

you! Now the rules are simple,
you sit here in this seat, and
ask the three female contestants
what they would do to win your
Golden Apple!

Zeus hands Paris the Golden Apple. The contestants all take
their seats.

P ARIS

This is so awesome! Contestant

Number One: if I sat on this
apple and farted, would you still
want it?

H ERA

Yes.

P ARIS

What if it was wet?

H ERA

Yes, I...

P ARIS

What if I actually shat myself

trying to fart, but it was all
runny and soaked through onto the
apple? Would you still want it?

Hera bats her eyes a few times in anguish.

H ERA

...Yes! I Have to have it!

P ARIS

You wouldn’t want it even a

little less? Really? Okay,
contestant Number Two: What is
the Worst sex act you’ve ever
preformed?
 A PHRODITE

Well, I’ve had group sex with

fauns and a centaur...does that
count?

P ARIS

I have the internet, so no- not

really. Would you blow me,
personally if I gave you the
apple?

A PHRODITE

No, but I would get the most

beautiful girl in the world to do
it for the rest of your life!

P ARIS

Zeus, I think we have a winner!

Paris runs over and hugs Aphrodite, then hands her the apple.
She raises it up in her hands.

A THENA

But you didn’t even ask me any

questions!

P ARIS

That’s because nobody likes a

brainy bitch.

I NT – S VEN AND A RGO ’ S A PARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

SVEN sits in his chair, watching T.V. On the screen, Athena

pulls an arrow from her magic quiver and a bow materializes in
her hand. She pulls back and shoots an arrow deep into Paris’
leg and storms off.

A PHRODITE

Come on you cry baby: let’s go

get Helen of Troy!

V.O.

We’ll be back after a message

from our sponsors!
The phone rings, so Sven mutes the T.V. and answers the phone.

S VEN

Yes?

F REDERICK

Are you alone?

S VEN

Is this Frederick? Yes I’m alone,

where are you?

F REDERICK

Don’t say my name. Is Argo gone?

Good. We have some work you might
be interested in...

I NT – S.F. L IBRARY – M ID - DAY

PHILLY and PANDORA are sorting through books they have pulled
from the shelves, trying to gather information about his
parents.

P HILLY

I can’t believe my parents would

be involved in that.

P ANDORA

Well, it was a long time ago. And

if you had been raised under
different circumstances, you
might be no different. But yeah,
it sucks your parents were Nazis.

Philly begins to thumb a book called “Nazi Eugenics”.

P ANDORA

I like that you don’t think

having two dads is...

P HILLY

...gay? Of course it’s gay!

Pandora giggles.
 P ANDORA

No, I was going to say weird.

Some people would think it’s
weird.

P HILLY

I’m starting to think that weird

isn’t so bad- in moderation, at
least.

Philly finds a section in “Nazi Eugenics” about genetic

engineering and sees his father’s name, Sven Oppenheimer.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Look at this: Sven Oppenheimer-

Genetic Engineering Division. It
says my parents were involved in
experiments to clone and
manipulate DNA, but nothing ever
came of it. God, how many hours
of research did it take to get
that? And I still don’t really
know anything.

P ANDORA

You really should just talk with

them. They’ll tell you in their
own time.

P HILLY

Maybe you’re right.

Philly closes the book.

P ANDORA

I know I’m right. Now let’s get

ice cream!

E XT – N.Y. D INER – M EANWHILE

SVEN is sitting at the diner bar, waiting for his contact to

show. He eats jam and toast with a cup of coffee. The waitress
harasses him with incessant questions.

W AITRESS

Can I get you anything else?

You’re sure you’re fine?
 S VEN

Nothing! That is all!

The waitress retreats farther down the bar and wipes the
counter with her scowl. A bell tied to the door dings as a man
steps in from the rain. His hair is slicked and he wears a
business suit. When he sits next to Sven, the waitress
scuttles over to service him.

F RED

Coffee, black- that’s it, thanks.

The waitress saunters over and cleans a coffee mug.

F RED

Long time, Sven.

S VEN

Indeed. What do you have for me?

Fred looks over his shoulder, flexing his chiseled Aryan jaw
line.

F RED

Let’s not discuss that here. It’s

something you really need to see
to appreciate, anyway.

S VEN

Frederick Heimenberger... always

so dramatic. How is it that you
are still with the Party?

As Sven is saying this, the waitress brings Fred his coffee,

setting down a bowl with sugar and cream. Fred shrugs it off
with a chuckle.

F RED

Same as you, I would imagine.

Nobody would believe that a Neo-
Nazi or a gay Austrian would
really be affiliated with the
Party.

S VEN

Fair enough.
Fred mixes ample sugar and cream into his coffee, leaving it a
milky tan, and takes a sip.

F RED

How’s Argo, anyway?

A lump decides at this particular moment to camp in Sven’s

throat.

S VEN

I...I really don’t know, anymore.

We had a fight about Phillip
again, and he left for California
a few days ago. All I’ve been
able to bring myself to do is
drink and watch horrible,
horrible television programs.

Sven’s eyes drip the first melt of his heart’s discontent.

S VEN

I don’t think he even...loves me

anymore!

He bursts into a pneumatically powered bout of sobbing and

Fred does his best to console.

F RED

Hey now, chin up! These things

happen. It’s not the end of the
world. He was a bit of a bastard
anyway. At any rate, cheer up
because you know I’m rubbish with
this with type of thing.

Fred slaps a fiver on the bar and stands.

F RED (C ONT .)

Let’s get out of here.

They step outside where a black Mercedes is waiting.

I NT – M ERCEDES - CONTINUOUS

FRED drives to a destination he still has not revealed. SVEN

is still skulking over Argo. The RADIO plays the “Master Race”
theme.
 R ADIO

You can tell by my smile: this

Übermensh has guile. While I’m
pushing the dial, I make it known
that I’m a phile for –osophy!

Fred turns the radio up a little.

F RED

Oh, I love this track! Check this

out: Race Rape- it’s a white
supremacist rapper from Chicago.
He gots mad skills, yo!

R ADIO

It’s lost on me, you atrophy with

apathy. I slap my knee at the
scene of a queen setting sail to
sea in pastures green...

S VEN

You actually listen to, and

like...this?

R ADIO

S-I-N, sin! As I enjoy a

rejoinder, remaining sane with
remainders of the Cambridge
Crusaders...

F RED

Hell Yes!

R ADIO

Invaders from Mars set the wheels

in motion...

Sven gesticulates angrily.

S VEN

It is kitsch! It is not any

different from the pulp shize
that other rappers do!
 R ADIO

But the notion’s Novi Scotian,

some bloatin’ bloke who wrote
this is pissed off like a
munchkin.

F RED

You’ve got to get with the times,

Sven. That’s what this operation
is all about.

R ADIO

Oppressed by the best, so don’t

test that I’m blessin’ these
fools and makin’ tools outta’ you
an’ your chitlin with simian
restrictions. Eh, how’s my
diction?

F RED

This is a wonderful propaganda

piece; it brings what would
otherwise be “wiggers” into the
fold. Our project is
more...elimination oriented.

R ADIO

Let’s start by beginning; who’s

winning the race of masters? Your
place is last, sir. After I
answer your questions I’m bettin’
you’ll be lettin’ it slide...

F RED

Just about there now...

They arrive at an abandoned building and Fred pulls into the

driveway. The radio continues playing:

R ADIO

As I ride with a guide by my

side, I never lied about the fact
that I was poised to attack.

S VEN

An old, dilapidated house?

 R ADIO

As I heat up and expand, you

contract and crack, ‘cause it’s
cold and you’ve been told that
I’m bold like white on black.

F RED

Yes. And no.

R ADIO

Unfolding poles as aliens slip

through holes and strike a pose,
they’re back. Stirring the plot
with gum and cumquats.

Fred puts the car in park and turns the engine off. They enter
the house through the front door. Inside is what one would
expect from the exterior: bare, except for mold, garbage, and
other signs of squatters. They make their way to the closet in
the master bedroom. Fred opens a trap door and descends the
escape ladder. Sven follows.

F RED

Now, Sven: even if you turn back

and have nothing to do with this,
I’ll understand- but you must
swear complete confidence. You
know what happens otherwise...

Silence prevails until Sven replies.

S VEN

For the party.

At the bottom of the ladder is a corridor with a sealed hatch

at the end. They walk the corridor and Fred enters a code into
a panel on the hatch. He turns the handle and a hiss of
decompression slinks through the seal.

F RED

Welcome to Cloud Nein.

Sven ducks his head to step through the hatch and discovers a
sea of green marijuana plants.
E XT – S.F. P IER – L ATER THAT DAY

PANDORA and PHILLY are walking along the pier eating ice cream
out of cones.

P ANDORA

So we open a center geared

towards racists, and convert them
to the side of tolerance?

PH ILLY

Basically, yeah. It’s perfect;

Teutontology already sounds
Aryan. We get them in, illuminate
the shit out of them and build
from that.

Philly stops walking and leans against the railing. He gazes

at the endless ripple of the Pacific.

P ANDORA

Isn’t it funnier to just get them

to fight each other until they’re
senseless?

P HILLY

Maybe for you- but there’s

something invigorating about
convincing someone they’ve been
wrong all along. What better if
it changes someone for the good?

Pandora is unimpressed with the familiar scenery.

P ANDORA

Yeah, maybe...I guess I could see

how that’s funny. It just doesn’t
make me double over in laughter.

P HILLY

Okay- how would you change the

plan?

Pandora considers her response.

 P ANDORA

It’s irony deficient. It should

feel more like “White Power for
Racial Tolerance!” and less
“Summary Reprogramming.”

P HILLY

I see.

P ANDORA

It could do with a touch more of

a religious or cultish glamour,
as well. Nothing too garish- just
a hint.

Pandora giggles.

P HILLY

Sometimes you remind me of...no,

it’s silly.

P ANDORA

What? Go on, finish!

P HILLY

You remind me of Maggie.

Pandora’s nose scrunches. This wasn’t quite what she wanted to

hear.

P ANDORA

Good one.

P HILLY

No, it’s a good thing. She was

always taking my ideas and
feeding them back to me slightly
better.

P ANDORA

Sounds more like she chewed your

food for you. It’s hardly a
flattering thing to hear you
remind someone of their cheating
ex-girlfriend.
 P HILLY

It’s just that...

P ANDORA

Whatever! It’s not a compliment.

Philly compulsively kisses Pandora, letting his tongue do the

apologizing. Pandora pulls away after a second or two of
sultry abandon.

P ANDORA ( CONT .)

I think you misread me. This

isn’t something I’m after. I’m
sorry.

Philly, dejected, tries to recover his fall.

P HILLY

No, it’s my mistake. I was

nostalgia-stricken.

They continue walking along the pier in awkward silence.

I NT – C LOUD N EIN – M EANWHILE

SVEN is touring the facility with FRED. Teams of men in white

lab coats walk from plant to plant, jotting notes and
recording data.

S VEN

So...you are growing sweet

smelling tomatoes?

F RED

Not really. These are fifth

generation clones of our newest
project, “Heavenly High”.
Marijuana, Sven; the sweetest,
stickiest dank in the western
hemisphere. “Killer,” as they
say.

S VEN

Marijuana? The Party has resorted

to petty drug dealing?
 F RED

Petty? I beg your pardon! This is

just one of nine facilities. This
building itself is over one
hundred thousand square feet,
with almost as much cubic feet of
grow-space.

S VEN

But pot?! I HATE dope heads,

always spaced out and barely
aware of what’s going on.

F RED

Then you’re perfect for this job,

Sven! We’ve surely done a lot of
work on the project already.

Fred picks up a clipboard with a chart on it. He looks it

over, reading off enhancements they’ve already made. They keep
walking.

F RED (C ONT .)

We’ve bred it for amazingly high

resin production, with a THC
content of nearly 24%. As a side
effect, we’ve isolated what is
apparently a rather sweet and
aromatic property. It grows 12%
faster, bears 5% more fruit than
the best commercial producers.

He tosses the clipboard on a nearby table.

F RED (C ONT .)

The only problem with it is that

all of this before you is
perfectly smoke-able. That’s why
we need you.

S VEN

What?
 F RED

You are going to be working on

our Twelfth Generation, lot “L”.
We have to figure a way to make
it kill people after they smoke
it.

S VEN

Kill people?

F RED

Yeah, you know- Rappers, Jazz

musicians, High school trouble
makers. A sort of colonic for the
socio-ethnic sphincter.

S VEN

Oh. Great. I’m in.

I NT – K LUTZ L OFT – L ATE A FTERNOON

ARGO and LOUIS are chatting over tea and biscuits.

A RGO

It’s nice to be on this side of

the country again. I haven’t been
here in what feels like a dog’s
age!

L OUIS

You haven’t changed a bit, you

old faggot!

A RGO

Yes, well...I would be insulted

by that, but I fa’ got what it
means.

L OUIS

Oh, good one! Very clever.

A RGO

What time did you say Philly was

going to be here?
Louis looks at his watch and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

L OUIS

I would imagine not much longer.

He and Pandora went to the
library. They probably stopped
off for a bite to eat.

Argo fixes Louis’ eyes as he prepares to open himself.

A RGO

I’m glad to hear they’re getting

on fine. How much does Philly
know about...the past?

L OUIS

Your guess is as good as mine.

You know in the pictures, how the
characters always fret over all
the little things instead of
openly asking the other person? I
really hate that. Just talk to
him. He will understand in his
own way.

PANDORA and PHILLY enter through the front door. They talk as
they put away their coats. They seem to have moved on from
their awkward tension.

P ANDORA

Oh, you’re such a cry baby. Cheer

up Emo Kid! You’re gonna’ die
someday.

P HILLY

Yeah, well you’ll just have to-

what the fuck? Argo? What are you
doing here?

Philly wrestles his flight response.

A RGO

Hello son. I would like it if we

could talk.

Louis gestures to Pandora to follow him into the kitchen. Once

the room is clear, Philly sits down opposite his father and
crosses his arms.
 P HILLY

Has the Reichstag burned down

lately?

A RGO

Actually, yes...your father and I

had an argument about you.

P HILLY

Right- and I’m supposed to feel

sorry for you now? That’s how
this works, doesn’t it? Since I
was a little boy, Sven does the
damage and you take care of the
cleanup. So go ahead: fix being
Nazi scientists.

Argo slumps in defeat.

A RGO

You’re right. He’s really a

bastard. We were just
geneticists, Philly. But that
doesn’t justify support of the
Holocaust. I don’t expect you to
forgive me. I just think you
deserve to know everything I do
about this.

Philly softens at the genuine sentiment of this gesture.

A RGO ( CONT .)

Actually, that’s what your father

and I were arguing over. He
doesn’t think you should know.
Not because you don’t deserve to,
just because he thinks no good
can come of it.

P HILLY

How deep does it actually go? I

mean: were you just peons, or am
I looking at decorated officers?
 A RGO

We were just scientists. But we

reported directly to Himmler
himself. Our assignment was to
obtain a genetic sample of
Hitler, in order to clone him
should anything disastrous happen
to the Third Reich. We obtained a
sample and preserved it. Of
course, History happened. But we
weren’t capable of cloning until
the early 70’s.

P HILLY

The 70’s? No way! Scientists have

barely been able to clone sheep,
just recently.

A RGO

It’s true, Phillip. Cloning

technology was perfected by
underground Nazis in 1973, and we
carried out our assignment and
created a clone of the genetic
sample.

P HILLY

Wait, 1973...that’s the year I

was born.

Philly looks at Argo and Argo slowly nods his head.

A RGO

Yes, you are the result of that

experiment. I’m sorry you had to
find out like this.

P HILLY

I’m a reincarnation of Hitler?!

WHAT?
 A RGO

Settle down, son. No. Yes. Well-

we did use the genetic sample
that was obtained. And you are
that DNA. But something went
wrong- the genetic code didn’t
match Hitler’s. They scrapped the
project, and your Father and I
raised you as our own.

P HILLY

That’s why I’ve always had

nightmares about that book, “Are
you my mother?”- I DON’T HAVE A
MOTHER!

Argo absorbs Philly’s shouting with the grace of knowing he

had it coming.

P HILLY

I’M A HITLER REJECT WITH FAGGOT

NAZI PARENTS!

A RGO

Please, calm down!

Louis comes in from the other room to make sure everything is

reasonable. Pandora peeks around the corner. Philly stands up
and continues shouting at Argo.

P HILLY

MY GIRL WAS FUCKING HER CO-WORKER

ON 9-11 AND DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THE
TOWERS FELL! THAT’S HOW I FOUND
OUT!

Argo just sits.

L OUIS

Come on, Philly, let’s take five.

P HILLY

TAKE FUCK! I DON’T EVEN WORK FOR

A RESPECTABLE PERIODICAL. I WRITE
FOR THE HIGH TIMES! OF COUNTER-
CULTURES! SUCK. A. FUCK.
Argo stands and tries to pat Philly’s shoulder. He recoils and
switches to his Alt. STOCKHOLM smiles as he steps into the
scene. [“Master Race” Theme]

S TOCKHOLM

I’ve got the Final Solution to

Pollution of the mind: expose and
close illusions that are bruisin’
up your line of reasoning.

E XT – T HE P ARK – SPRING , 2007

STOCKHOLM continues his rap, strolling about the park,

admiring flowers growing on the hillside. As per usual, he
wields a mighty spliff.

S TOCKHOLM

I like the season of spring. The

power flowers are gorging in
orgies, starting to sing of
things we never lack. I smack the
anti-somatic with a pneumatic
Chinese fire drill. I’m a psycho-
Semitic, Hermetically sealed.

Stockholm makes an occult gesture with his hands.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

I need a medic with colonics,

‘cause I’m feeling catatonic from
a bout of bubonic plague, but
I’ve got it made. You need a
Mnemonic device? Hooked on
Phonics is nice. You strike as
Homophonephobic-

Stockholm cups his ear.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

It means you’re afraid of the

“sounds like.” Herman, the German
fox, and the hound- abounding
‘round the fact that they’re
astounding! So I’ll fight you
with words, it’s absurd! I’ve got
blurbs to burp, and birds that
chirp, and girders to perturb and
Jurgen’s Hand Softener.
Stockholm pulls out a bottle of lotion and squirts it on the
ground. Three HOOLIGANS he is walking past suddenly start
singing Chorus:

H OOLIGANS

Just a turd kickin’ back with the

nerds in the back of the class!

S TOCKHOLM

And I’ve got class enough to pass

around the stuff, take a puff!

Stockholm hands the spliff to the hooligans and continues

walking.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

‘Cause black and red will make

you dead, but read and black will
bring you back! I’m a clone on
the phone, telling you to
postpone your abstract
shellacking of facts. And I’m
rising higher and higher in this
vision of Maya.

Stockholm sees N’yo Bé and pursues him.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

And derision kept me sitting in

the first place. Displacing my
replacement, I headed to the
basement for abasement and got a
taste of the afterlife, made her
my second wife, but divorced her
‘cause she likes the price is
right.

N’yo Bé ducks around a few corners and shrubs in the park,

evading Stockholm at every move.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

Now I’m addicted to rabbinic

scriptures and pictures of
Christians prophesying all their
lies with conviction-

Stockholm sneaks past a group of evangelicals preaching at

bums and vagrants.
 S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

list’nin to Ginsberg curtly

spurting the murky troof with
aloof contempt for unkempt
representatives, rows of roses
supposed by Spinoza overshadowing
cantos composed by Kant and
ranting that fractal equations
can mend abrasions of the psyche.
It might be that I see a little
bit of everything.

He finally gives up the chase and rests on a hillside. Having

donated his spliff to the hooligans, he rolls a fresh one.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

You can tell by my smile, this

Übermensh has guile. While I’m
pushing the dial, I make it known
that I’m a phile for –osophy!

He finishes rolling with a twist to the tip and lights it with

a match seemingly produced from nowhere. N’yo Bé comes into
view, approaching Stockholm from behind. He wafts in the smoke
around Stockholm’s head and snatches the spliff away.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

What the cock?

N’yo Bé drawls through the spliff.

N’ YO B É

I can see now very clearly that

you are not the same man I spoke
to before. And I can see now, the
good lord, she shows me...you are
to do big things. But right now
you are conflicted, maybe even
confused. What is your name?

Stockholm yanks the spliff back and rips on it.

S TOCKHOLM

I’m the cheese, see? I do what I

please; you cannot seize me. It’s
Stockholm in the Catacombs, and
I’m prone to bein’ sleazy.

N’yo Bé squints at Stockholm.

 N’ YO B É

I can see you now, you are going

to talk with you father. Not
angry father, sad father.

P HILLY

Argo...Argo is sad?

S TOCKHOLM

He probably needs more penises. I

haven’t been laid in a while, and
I tell you: even I could go for a
cock right now.

N’ YO B É

I can see you are the man coming

up in the world, beginning to
learn his father has the means
and the answers for his
questions.

Stockholm flicks the spliff off into the distance.

S TOCKHOLM

You know, Philly might be a

sucker, but I know about you.
Isn’t it Super Cool?

N’ YO B É

Super Cool?

S TOCKHOLM

Yes, your name: doesn’t your name

mean super cool, or something
like that?

N’yo Bé chuckles a little.

N’ YO B É

How would you know my name? The

good lord, she protects me.
 S TOCKHOLM

N’yo Bé? Isn’t that Mandarin? I

believe it’s a colloquial
expression that means “Super
Cool,” does it not?

N’yo Bé nods slowly.

S TOCKHOLM (C ONT .)

Super cool, as in cold reading,

but that’s not really what it
literally means, is it?

N’ YO B É

This is actually somewhat

scary...

S TOCKHOLM

I’m getting a “C”- a Cunt? It

feels like a cunt, but that’s not
the word. Is it a Cow? Yes, a
cow...A part of a cow...N’yo Bé?
You changed the spelling, it
should be N-A-O space B-A-I, but
you spell it N-Y-O space B-E...It
means “a cow’s vagina”? Why does
that mean “super cool”?

N’yo Bé shakes his head, knowing that he’s been bested in his
own craft.

N’ YO B É

Have you ever been inside a cow’s

vagina?

S TOCKHOLM

Gads no, man. I’m a bit boring,

in that I like human females.

N’ YO B É

Okay, well- since the ruse is

rusted- just contact Argo. He’s
prepared to go a lot further than
you might imagine.
E XT – P HONE B OOTH – MINUTES L ATER

Safely inside the phone booth, PHILLY picks up the receiver.

After shoving a handful of change into the coin slot, he dials
an obscene amount of numbers. The line rings.

I NT – A RGO ’ S A PARTMENT - C ONTINUOUS

ARGO is sitting in his chair in the living room, dealing tarot

cards onto a small table. On the far side of the table, the
Prince of Cups and the Nine of Wands rest side by side. He
places in front of him a Five of Wands, then a Nine of Cups,
then an Ace of Pentacles. He hesitates, his hand wavering over
the next card to draw. He turns it over, the Knight of Swords.
Argo slaps his knee.

A RGO

Bust! I lost to an imaginary

player.

The phone rings, startling him. He reaches over and picks up

the receiver.

A RGO (C ONT .)

Tootles!

P HILLY

It’s me. Can we...talk?

Argo squares the deck and begins to shuffle the cards.

A RGO

That’s supposed to be my line.

PHILLY looks down at his shoes.

P HILLY

Yeah. It’s been a while, hasn’t

it?

A RGO

Five years, about...

Philly looks through the booth at a hobo begging for change

across the street.
 P HILLY

I’m sorry. Everything that

happened...it messed with my head
more than a little, by a whole
lot.

Argo cuts the deck and turns a card over, The Emperor.

A RGO

You know: we have so much to talk

about. I could come see you.

P HILLY

What about Sven?

A RGO

I haven’t seen him...since before

we last spoke.

Philly’s voice drops in tempo and tone.

P HILLY

I...I’m sorry for you.

Argo begins to choke up.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

You can come out to visit

whenever you like, but we have to
talk- now.

Argo turns over the Ace of Cups.

A RGO

It pleases me to hear you say

that. Of what would you like to
speak?

P HILLY

Who am I?

Argo turns another card over, this time the Ten of Cups.
 A RGO

You are who you are and I can

only tell you what I know,
Phillip.

Philly fidgets with the cord on the pay phone.

P HILLY

You know, growing up all I cared

about was not turning out like
Sven. There was even a time I
thought I knew who I was and I
was happy that I was nothing like
Sven.

Argo turns over the Two of Pentacles.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Now, it’s all weird. I have to

know, am I or am I not the clone
of Hitler?

A RGO

You may have even more difficult

times ahead, son. However, you
needn’t worry about this: you
aren’t Hitler. When we spoke
last, I told you there was no
genetic match.

Argo turns over the Chariot card.

P HILLY

I know- but the more I thought

about it, the more it seemed to
make sense. It certainly explains
why I hate so many people, so, so
much.

Philly’s voice trembles at his own fear.

A RGO

It’s okay to feel, son. Anger,

fear, love, pain- these things
let us know we are alive.

Philly looks down and to his side, affected.

 A RGO ( CONT .)

I’m going to go pack. I’m coming

to see you on the first flight I
can.

Argo turns over Death.

A RGO (C ONT .)

There’s no reason for me to stay

here now, anyway.

I NT – C LOUD N EIN - MEANWHILE

SVEN, clad in laboratory coat, is standing before row after

row of wilted and dead plants. He gazes fervently over a
clipboard with statistical data and genograms. FRED has come
by to receive a report on Sven’s progress.

S VEN

It simply doesn’t make any sense!

Every test generation dies once
it begins to flower.

Fred repeatedly clicks a retractable ballpoint pen.

F RED

What exactly have you been doing

for the past five years? Every
time this happens, I have to save
your ass with some lame excuse to
the one-ups.

S VEN

Just sequencing an entire genome

from scratch with the most inept
help one could imagine.

Fred clicks the pen faster.

F RED

Okay. Let’s do that again, a

little more specific.

Sven’s face turns the bleak, dour white of poorly aged

cheddar.
 S VEN

Alright. Ugh. Gene 117 on the 7 th

base pair is encoded, at present,
to produce strychnine in the
resin glands. We’ve recoded the
sequence over 70 times, from G-A-
T-T-C-T-A-T-G-G...

F RED

Stop! Less specific. Continue.

Sven’s cheddar ripens just a little more from the control.

S VEN

What keeps happening is the resin

gland produces the chemical, the
rest of the plant absorbs it and
then the plant dies of poisoning.

Fred strokes his chin.

F RED

Okay. I can work with that; at

least I can say that the plant is
doing what it’s supposed to, just
to itself. An oversight that can-
and will-

He looks Sven dead in the eye.

F RED (C ONT .)

...be corrected. Take the rest of

the week off and recuperate some.
You’ve been at this for what- two
months without a day for
yourself? We’ll start fresh on
Monday.

S VEN

That’s not really necessary, I

can...
 F RED

That’s not really a request.

There’s a lot of money going into
this. We need you fresh.
Meanwhile, we have started
selling dried product from clones
of the first 11 generations to
help funding and build a consumer
base. With any luck, our
lobbyists can get it legalized
and regulated by 2008-2009. Get
something to eat and get some
rest. You might even try some of
this stuff...

Fred tosses Sven a joint.

F RED (C ONT .)

It’s always good to know what

you’re giving the folks.

I NT – P HILLY ’ S A PARTMENT

Philly is standing in his studio, buttoning up his shirt. He

puts his trench coat on. He heads out the door. On the
sidewalk, a clown passes him, dragging a dead dog with a cone
party hat behind him. The dog has a cigarette hanging out of
his mouth. He walks past and sees an A-frame sign that reads,
“Treason is the Reason for the Season!” The SHOPKEEP steps
outside his front door.

S HOPKEEP

Do not dig for Nazi gold! Pieces

of eight! Pieces of eight!

The voice sounds as if it is playing backwards. Philly jolts

awake as the BART comes to a stop. Philly stands and exits. He
looks around, confused, and a PA system makes an announcement.

PA

All passengers for Grover

Cleveland’s Inner Rectum, please
exit and stand clear of the
boarding area.
Philly walks to the turnstile and turns through. As he is
walking up the steps, someone throws a gas canister into the
station. The gas disperses and everyone starts laughing
hysterically. Eventually, they start dropping from
asphyxiation. Philly falls to the floor, laughing and gasping
for breath as his vision fades. He wakes up in his dressing
room with his forehead on the table of his vanity mirror. He
looks at himself, disillusioned. An ASSITANT pops his head in
the door.

A SSISTANT

We’re on in five...four...
three...

Again, the voice sounds backwards. He mimes the “two” and the
“one”. The walls of Philly’s dressing room break away and
stagehands remove the chair and other props. Philly is left
standing on a stage before an audience with lights blinding
his eyes. Philly’s eyes adjust and he sees that the audience
is filled with everyone he has ever known in his entire life.
He immediately falls into character and tells a joke.

P HILLY

Blah blah, bah balah blah. Blick

a black bong bow wow bowm. Shim a
sham, can’t cunt a pea...

Philly pauses to give the punch line more umph.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Biez! Pyerro yevoda!

The audience begins to laugh and Philly smiles, quite proud of

his achievement.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Blah! Blah!

As they laugh, Philly becomes more and more aware of the

notion that they are laughing at him, not with him. They
continue to laugh and point at him as he pleads for them to
stop.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Blahhh! Blease blahhhhh! Blease!

Blease! Blo! Blop it!

Philly tosses in his bedding, mumbling in his sleep.

 P HILLY (C ONT .)

Blamma blease bake ‘em blop.

Blamma! Blam-MA!

Philly starts awake and shields his face. He opens his eyes
and looks around his studio. It is night, his blankets are a
mess and everything is as it should be. He touches his face
and grabs at his torso, squeezing to prove that it’s real, not
a dream. Assured, he takes a deep, calming breath. He slaps
his face one last time to reassure himself, and satisfied,
pulls the blanket over his head.

I NT – A IRPORT D INER – THE NEXT MORNING

ARGO and PHILLY are sitting in the dinning area of the

airport. It more closely resembles a cafeteria, but nobody
seems to have the energy to complain.

A RGO

Again, I have to apologize for

the manner in which you found
out. We should have been more
candid with you.

Philly pokes at his chicken patty with mashed potatoes and

gravy.

P HILLY

I told you to stop it. I’ve come

to accept that there are things I
cannot change. It’s
still...weird, though.

Argo looks away.

A RGO

So. What have you been doing with

yourself?

Philly starts molding the mash potatoes into a triangle shape.

P HILLY

You know, just the usual. Writing

for hire, tutoring horribly
challenged teenagers who cannot
speak their own language as well
as I do...my true calling.
Philly spoons a dab of mash potatoes onto the chicken patty,
then another. He arranges them as eyes.

A RGO

Are you dissatisfied?

With ketchup, Philly draws a mouth on the chicken patty, gives

it a broom mustache and a red ball at the tip of the mash
triangle.

P HILLY

Well, it’s a bit limited. I mean,

I still write for The Chronical.
Don’t get me wrong, I can write
whatever I want, I have more than
enough money for me to be
comfortable and busy. But...I
want more.

Philly cuts the lower right cheek off his chicken patty man
and plops it in his mouth. He masticates and squirts more
ketchup onto the patty along the cut, simulating bleeding.

A RGO

More like what? Happiness doesn’t

come from an external source, no
matter how good it may seem.

Philly responds through his chewing of another slice of his

chicken victim.

P HILLY

Well, um, you see...I’ve been

spending a lot of time working
with Teutontology. We’ve opened
five Teutonic Healing Centers in
California. What we really need
is higher recruitment numbers.

A RGO

Is the Hare Krishna approach not

working?

P HILLY

Seriously, now. Do not compare

this to fucking Hare Krishna.
Anyway, what we really need is
more PR- a propaganda outlet.
Argo realizes that Philly is being serious.

A RGO

Propaganda- like what?

P HILLY

I figure people like to be

entertained, and if you can
stimulate them like that, you can
also pass your message to them.
I’ve got the talent, I have the
commitment, I have the material,
even, to put on a fan-fucking-
tastic show. I just don’t have
any way to get that done.

Argo adjusts his coat some and contemplates.

A RGO

I may know someone. I can get you

a meeting, but you have to step
up. To step down is death; the
wages of death is rape.

Philly carves another and another piece of chicken face and

stacks them with the tines of his fork. He stabs them and jabs
them into his mouth, smiling.

P HILLY

But you can’t rape the willing.

A RGO

Now you should be serious. I’ll

have to make some calls, so you
should work on your pitch and
your ideas because I don’t know
how much time you’ll have.

E XT – B EE ’ S K NEES E NTERTAINMENT – A WEEK LATER

ARGO and PHILLY are walking up the steps to the doors of the
building. Philly is clutching a manila folder; his hair combed
and gelled behind his ears. He wares a white button up shirt
and black slacks. Argo wears a gray suit and penny loafers.
 P HILLY

I can’t believe you got it so

quickly. It is like a punch to
the gut.

A RGO

Breathe. All you have to do is

talk. It’s like writing with your
mouth.

P HILLY

That’s not what I’m concerned

about, but thanks for the pep.

They enter the main lobby and check in with the attendant. She
directs them to the elevator and they board it. Elevator music
plays a Muzak rendition of the “Master Race” theme. They exit
on the fourteenth floor and read the directional sign,
following an arrow to a door marked, “Ezra L. Asuras,
Executive Editor.” Argo knocks on the door.

A RGO

Consider me your manager from

here on out. If I clear my
throat, stop talking.

The door buzzes open and a SECRETARY sits behind a desk.

S ECRETARY

Name?

A RGO

Christou and Fillet. We have an

appointment with Mr. Asuras.

The secretary looks at the appointment roster, which is empty,

save for their names.

S ECRETARY

I’ll have to check with Mr.

Asuras. Just a moment.

She pushes an intercom button.

 S ECRETARY (C ONT .)

Mr. Asuras, two men are here to

see you. They say they have an
appointment.

The intercom gurgles back.

A SURAS

Are they on the appointment

roster?

S ECRETARY

Yes, sir.

A SURAS

Then, damn it- send them in!

The secretary sends them in through a door on the right. They

walk into a cozy executive office with ferns, plate windows
and a bear rug.

A SURAS

Sorry about Sally- she’s a little

slow and quite a fuckin’ bitch,
but she has the sweetest ass you
ever saw. That’s my nickname for
her, “The ASS”- it’s short for
assistant.

Philly waxes sarcastic.

P HILLY

Yeah, I’d cut her ass in half

with a hacksaw.

Argo coughs as they walk towards the desk. Argo reaches out
his hand to shake.

A SURAS

Sit. So, what have you for me?

I’m quite ravenous.

Argo nudges Philly. Philly’s arm spasms and he fumbles with

his papers.
 P HILLY

I was thinking of something along

the lines of a Sketch Variety
Show, heavy on the wordplay. I
have a few sketch ideas drafted
for you, as well as samples of my
previous work at The Chronical.

Philly hands Asuras the folder.

A SURAS

You write for the S.F.?

P HILLY

Well, it’s not the-

Argo clears his throat.

P HILLY ( CONT .)

...shiniest column in the rag,

but it’s decent enough work.

Asuras thumbs through Philly’s portfolio.

A SURAS

So, tell me more about these

sketches.

P HILLY

Um. Okay. Well, there’s Beans and

Rice. It’s about a Mexican and an
Asian that are raised to believe
they’re white and they go on
comedic, racist misadventures.

A SURAS

You’ll have to scrap the name.

Probably rework it a bit, too.
Mad TV already has a sketch
called “Beans and Rice”, with a
Mexican and an Asian corning
white kids into feeling like
racists.

P HILLY

Oh.
Asuras plants the folder on his desk.

A SURAS

Is there anything else?

P HILLY

Okay. Same vein, but I’m sure Mad

TV hasn’t done it: “Honky Jihad.”
It’s a serial sketch about a
white supremacist group that
plots to start a race war, but
brings about wide spread racial
tolerance.

Asuras rolls his fingers on his desk.

A SURAS

Okay, I could see that with some

work. What about the rest? You
said “Variety”.

Argo clears his throat and takes over.

A RGO

Mr. Fillet has a diverse array of

talents, Mr. Asuras. He is a
magician; he is a musician and a
singer/songwriter; he is a writer
and an English tutor; what he
offers is a package- a persona
that captivates and entices,
makes someone willing to sit
through a two-minute break just
to hear the punch line or learn
the twist.

Asuras leans back in his comfortable, executive chair with

special lumbar support.

A SURAS

Needs more dick jokes, kid. You

got any ideas what you might call
it?

Philly snickers.

P HILLY

“The Fillet Show”.

Asuras pauses, only for his thin lips to spread out and reveal
a segmented crescent.

A SURAS

Ah- ha HA! Good one, kid. Give me

a script for a pilot by the end
of the week- 24 pages, standard
format. We’ll go from there.

Philly looks at Argo and raises his eyebrow.

A SURAS (C ONT .)

This is not a contract or a

commitment. It’s a test; I won’t
tell you if you’ve failed. I
won’t have to if you do fail.

A RGO

Thank you for your time. I

believe your secretary has our
information.

Asuras lights a cigar and puffs on it as Argo and Philly stand

to depart.

A SURAS

Yeah, she does. Now get the hell

out before I change my mind.

As they walk through the door, the secretary is typing at

something or other, probably gibberish, and they hear Mr.
Asuras voice emanate from the intercom.

A SURAS

Sally, could you come into my

office. I can’t seem to figure
where my pen is. Help me find my
pen is, would you, sweetie?

I NT – C LOUD N EIN D ORMATORY , S VEN ’ S ROOM - N IGHT

Tossing and kicking in his sleep, Sven hears the voice of his
father DIETER from a childhood memory.

D IETER

Remember, Sven, my son- keep it

simple, stoo-peed!
E XT – C ATHOLIC S CHOOL - C ONTINUOUS

DIETER is a soft man with clean hair, a large, bushy mustache,

sharp threads and rosy cheeks. He is kneeling before SVEN,
adjusting the catholic school uniform of his 13-year-old son.
They are at the front of the school and children are slowly
meandering in through the front doors. Sven grabs up his book
strap and begins to walk to the entrance.

D IETER

I love you, son.

Sven turns to look back, unaffected, and continues walking

towards the door. As he enters, Sven- now an adult- is in full
Nazi regalia walking down the corridor. He comes to a door
with a smallish, square, frosted window and turns the knob.
The door opens only to assault his vision with the sight of
HITLER receiving some good, old fashioned oral gratification.

H ITLER

Ugh...ugh...oh...uh...huh? AH!

Hitler’s eyes find Sven’s and Sven immediately averts his. He

sees that it is Dieter kneeled before Der Fuehrer. Sven
recites, more as an affirmation than an apology:

S VEN

I saw nothing. I’m not sure I

even opened the door, sir. I’m
just closing this door, now, and
leaving. I wasn’t even here.

Sven closes the door.

I NT – C OULD N EIN DORMMATORY , S VEN ’ S ROOM – C ONTINUOUS

Sven wakes with morning wood and a fresh idea in his mind.

S VEN

Keep it simple, stupid. What a

way to KISS me.

Sven jumps out of his memory foam cot and bolts to his desk of
cluttered case files and loose papers. He thumbs through a
case file and finds a folder titled “Zyclon B” and another
regarding “Hormonal Gene Sequencing”.
I NT – T.V. S TUDIO – TWO WEEKS LATER

PHILLY is wrapping up principal photography for his pilot. He

has recruited LOUIS, PANDORA, COLONEL and FRANK as stand in
actors. They are sitting round a carpet dressed as children
and Philly sits in a high back chair reading a storybook. In
character, Philly is wearing grey stage-hair, speaking with a
grizzled voice.

P HILLY

...and God, in all his infinite

power and wisdom, found that he
was bored- so he created himself
as a man.

Philly shows around the picture in the book to the “children”:

a shabby man with a beer-gut obscuring his genitals. He turns
the page.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Then, in all his comfort and

luxury, he found that he was
lonely- so he split himself in
half...

Again, he shows the picture: “Adam” is squatting and pushing,

with a small pile of feces already under him.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...and sculpted himself as a

woman, also.

The picture this time is a fecal sculpture of a female form

miraculously animating into flesh. He turns the page.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

And, of course, they got bored

and lonely- so they had children.
And those children made other
children with something from
somewhere, I don’t really know.

Philly closes the book. The CAMERAMAN shoots the scene,

pensively, and looks at his CO-CAMERAMAN and shrugs.
 P HILLY (C ONT .)

The point is all that dividing

was God- multiplying in people,
but dividing in God. Now, people
have forgotten that they are
emanations of God, and God
remains a Schizophrenic with
dissociative tendencies.
Moreover, that’s why you don’t
touch your naughty areas!

F RANK

But who did the children make

children with?

P ANDORA

Mommy told me I have to clean

that area though...

Pandora pretends to hide her shame.

P HILLY

I don’t know- baboons, okay? They

made more children with baboons.
Evolution is right. Piss on the
bloody virgin!

The co-cameraman laughs and the lead cameraman looks at him

with bewilderment.

L OUIS

Billy touched my naughty area in

P.E. today!

C OLONEL

Tommy’s lying! We did Greco-roman

wrestling!

The co-cameraman looks back at his lead.

C O -C AMERAMAN

What? This is funny shit.

P HILLY

Hey...
 L OUIS

You still touched it, perv!

C OLONEL

But it’s Greco-roman...that’s

what those people do, man.

P HILLY

Hey!

L OUIS

That doesn’t make it right,

faggot!

P HILLY

HEY!

Philly waves the book at the “children”, barely avoiding

smacking a few of them in the head.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

You shits get to bed before I

beat the love of Christ into you!

The “children” scatter like roaches off the stage and

presumably to their rooms. Philly sets the book aside and
rises from his seat to address the camera directly.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Hi. My name is Phillip, but you

can call me Unkie Bastard. I am
available for children’s parties,
motivational encounters and...

Philly raises his eyebrow.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...one-on-one parental
consultation.

He acts as though that’s something for which to feel sexy.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Just call 555-2323 now! Say,

“Uncle!”
 C AMERAMAN

Aaaand cut. Fantastic! Editing

should be finished in about a
week or so, and then it gets the
final review before approval. If
you make the cut, that’s when you
get the pilot aired.

I NT – C LOUD N EIN – L ATER T HAT NIGHT

SVEN is alone in the lab still wearing his pajamas under his
lab smock. He smashes rapidly at a keyboard, entering
variables for a simulation. The monitor flashes dialogue
windows prompting for addition specifications as it compiles a
genome sequence. Sven glances at the papers he’s culled from
his case file and enters some more data.

I NT – B EE ’ S K NEES E DITING R OOM – THE NEXT DAY

An EDITOR is sitting in front of a MONITOR watching and cueing

segments of a studio project, a Space Dockers commercial.

M ONITOR

“Space Dockers- split it like a

sheet!”

Mr. ASURAS enters the editing room with a stapled packet of

papers. He hands it to the editor.

A SURAS

Here’s the cut list for that

Fillet Show pilot. Make sure the
sequencing cuts to commercials at
the right time, obviously.

E DITOR

Sure thing, Ezra; I’m just

wrapping up on this Corporate
segment for Space Dockers pants.
Can you believe the utter shit
people buy these days?

The editor looks up from his monitor.

A SURAS

What’s that, now?

 E DITOR

Space Dockers- it’s Jim’s

commercial for some new line of
pants that zip all the way to the
back waistband so slobs and
internet creeps can crap faster.

A SURAS

They’re paying, aren’t they?

E DITOR

Yeah, but it’s still a bit

strange, don’t you think?

A SURAS

Money is never strange. Chop,

chop!

Mr. Asuras sets the “edit and cut” list on the Editor’s desk
and walks out of the room.

I NT – C LOUD NEIN C ONFERENCE ROOM – T HE FOLLOWING MONDAY

SVEN and FRED are having a progress meeting over coffee and
doughnuts. A folder of Sven’s most recent data, projections
and hypotheses lay on the table before Fred.

F RED

I thought I told you to hold off

until Monday?

S VEN

Well, yes you did- and I was

intending on it, but I was
inspired late at night by a
terrible dream I had.

Fred sips his coffee, creamy as usual, while flipping through

the folio.

F RED

Did the Americans win again?

 S VEN

Worse: it was when I discovered

my father was Hitler’s...personal
assistant.

Fred cocks a brow from behind his coffee mug.

F RED

Right, back to business- you say

you may have come up with a way
to keep the plants from dying?

Sven fiddles his cream bar.

S VEN

Dying, yes...it’s not going to

work the first few generations,
I’m sure of that- there’s too
many undefined variables in the
coding, but I believe I have
found a solution; yes.

They sit in silence for a moment while Sven takes small bites
of his cream bar and Fred drinks more of his coffee.

F RED

Well? What is it?

Sven sets the cream bar on the table. Slight dabs of cream
hang from his chin and upper lip, suggestively.

S VEN

Do you remember U.S. Standard

Oil, what they did for us in the
glory days? Zyclon B is far more
potent than strychnine. Moreover,
the chemical similarity between
Zyclon B and many constituents of
cannabis resin is enough that a
splice could be made on at least
one of the several thousand genes
involved in resin gland
formation.

F RED

Are you saying that there’s an

answer, but we won’t have it for
years, maybe decades?
 S VEN

Fred...of course not. Many of the

possibilities can be eliminated,
but it will take more time- a few
years, at most.

F RED

I can do something with that- but

expect a lot of oversight. You’re
making all the wrong people
nervous, understand?

Fred Picks up the folder and squares the papers with a tap on
the table. He rises out of his chair halfway and gestures at
Sven’s chin.

F RED (C ONT .)

Looks like I just came on your

face or something.

Fred swipes his finger through the cream on Sven’s chin and
licks it. He walks to the door of the conference room,
stopping to look back.

F RED (C ONT .)

I know you can do this. I believe

in you.

I NT – B EE ’ S K NEES EDITING ROOM - MEANWHILE

PHILLY and PANDORA are waiting in two editor’s chairs to

screen the final cut of the pilot.

P HILLY

Not even if I were going to be

executed by a firing squad?

Pandora considers this proposal.

P ANDORA

No.

P HILLY

Come on! What if survival of the

human race depended on it?
 P ANDORA

Such as?

He leans back in his chair, swiveling right to left.

P HILLY

No one else is geographically

available.

P ANDORA

Oh, so this is “Desert Island”

now? Okay, Gilligan: if it means
extinction, we can do it.

Pandora submits to this hypothetical possibility for a moment.

P HILLY

You totally want my cock.

P ANDORA

Oh, but I do. I want your cock

right in my petticoat...

The sarcasm flies through the air, smacking Philly in the face
as spittle with high viscosity. Argo enters the room as Philly
is wiping the moisture from his face. Argo’s face reads
“trouble” to Philly.

P HILLY

So what’s up with the screening?

Where’s Asuras?

Argo sits in another chair, handing Philly a cassette and a

copy of the “cut and edit” list.

A RGO

You won’t like this...

Philly scans the list, reading the occasional item.

P HILLY

“Cut: ‘Honky Jihad’; Edit for

time: ‘Mona, the Mortician’- two
minutes, forty-three seconds…”
What the crumple? That’s half the
length it should be!
Argo gently settles his hand on Philly’s leg.

A RGO

You’ve got to compromise. I know-

it’s hard. But selling is the
goal at the moment. Later on, you
can fight for creative liberty.
Besides...you signed away your
final cut rights in the contract.

Philly takes a deep breath, hoping he’ll wake up any moment.

P HILLY

You’re right. I have to get to

first base.

Pandora gently caresses Philly’s shoulder, sending a chill

though him.

P ANDORA

Hey! Maybe they cut my awful

acting out!

P HILLY

They DID! “Cut: ‘Unkie Bastard’”!

Pandora coils away from Philly.

P ANDORA

You think my acting is...awful?

I NT – K LUTZ L OFT – S OME W EEKS L ATER

PHILLY, PANDORA, ARGO, LOUIS and COLONEL are in the Den,

having a Pilot Party. Guests are on their way to watch the
premier of the Fillet Show! pilot. Assorted appetizers and
finger-foods are strategically set about the Den- some of them
are labeled “Special” with small flags hoisted atop
toothpicks. Colonel jives at Louis from his seat around the
hookah.

C OLONEL

Oh, yeah! I’m sure you didn’t

know she was a trap!

Louis takes on a dignified, aristocratic tone standing in

front of a plate of wax pepper salami wraps, picking.
 L OUIS

I surely was never privy to such

information- we didn’t even kiss.

Pandora and Philly are absorbed, passing the hookah arm back
and forth in rapt entertainment.

A RGO

Uh...at the risk of sounding old,

what’s a “trap”?

Everyone giggles to some degree or other.

C OLONEL

A “trap” is a transvestite. The

kind that are a bit hard to call,
especially.

There’s a knock at the door.

L OUIS

Entre vou!

C OLONEL

(shouting to the
door)
Don’t do it; IT’S A TRAP!

COCOA bursts in through the door, rocking his always awesome,

always changing hair and clothes, a messenger bag slung over
his shoulder.

C OCOA

Who’s a trap, batches?

Philly broods from his seat at Cocoa.

P HILLY

This pilot is a trap.

C OLONEL

Naw, son- it’s just queer.

C OCOA

Me?
 C OLONEL

And the pilot. Not everything's

about you, my poof.

The T.V. sings the opening theme to "The Fillet Show!" and
everyone's attention perks up and turns to the corner of the
room.

T.V.

"You're watching The Fillet Show!

Gotta get me some Fillet Show! We
don't roll no dill dough! So I
suppose you can come if you want
to (But you don't gotta!); it's
fun just to watch The Fillet
Show!"

P ANDORA

It's on! Come on everyone!

Everyone finds a seat in the proximity of the T.V. and Philly

stands.

P HILLY

Excuse me, I've just got to

potty.

Philly walks into the other room, concealing his seething

anger with controlled regular breathing. He walks through the
kitchen and into the restroom, locking the door behind
himself. There is a mirror on either side of the door, both
facing the other. Long, he stares through the mirror.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

First I was walking from the

pantry (bullshit) then I saw it
on the T.V.- ABC me, NBC me? It's
all bullshit. Buy some more of
our shit! We don't care if you
eschew another clue.

Philly turns around and looks into the other mirror, the
infinity of reflections following in sync.
 P HILLY (C ONT .)

Just buy it, drink it, suck this

and eat this mindless bullshit.
You like the repetition, don't
you? Don't you? Singing every
song to the same tune, don't you?
Embarking up the wrong tree, or
was that me? Whoopsie! I must
confess this mindless bullshit
puts me in a predicament-

He opens and steps through the bathroom door and he strolls

down a hall.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

-where I can't tell if it's up or

down or left or right or mindless
bullshit- is it day or is it
night? It's mindless bullshit,
driving me to start a fight. It's
mindless...

He enters and walks through the kitchen.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

so mind the mindless bullshit,

prepackaged and processed for
you; mindless bullshit, you don't
even have to chew our mindless
bullshit- digest it and forget
it. Later, sell it to the
instigators.

Philly enters the Den through the kitchen, and everyone turns
to look at him as he sings out. The T.V. is running a
commercial break.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

So let's simplicate or complicate

or indicate a useful state;
perpetuate the open hate of
mindless, boring ingrates;
accentuate the amputated half-
ambular primates; or advocate, at
any rate, the need to eat what
they ate.

Philly points at the T.V. as a fast food commercial plays.

 P HILLY (C ONT .)

If you see hypocrisy, come walk

and talk and mock with me. It's
fun, you see, to make some fun of
funny things like idiocy; but if
you want the subtleties of
mindless, boring repetition: take
submission, you'll be wishin'
anything but to be livin'!
Mindless bullshit...

Philly kneels and finishes in a deep, operatic vibrato.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...and spineless notions!

P ANDORA

Philly, I don't know what you're

talking about. The editing isn't
so bad. If it picks up, you'll be
able to do the sketches that got
cut.

Pandora bats her eyes at Philly from her seat on the sofa.

P HILLY

Yeah, maybe. Argo, can I speak

with you in the other room for a
moment?

Argo stands and they both walk into the kitchen.

A RGO

What is it, Phillip?

P HILLY

I was thinking: if you're going

to be my manager and what, you
should probably get local.

A RGO

Yes, of course. I mean...what?

P HILLY

You know: moving here. You can't

be flying back and forth to
represent me all the time.
Philly plays with a piece of cut celery on the counter.

A RGO

Actually...I've been meaning to

say something about that.

P HILLY

So this weekend, then? We'll fly

out to New york...

Philly "flies" the celery to another spot on the counter and

parks it.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Pack everything up...

He places a few olives on the celery stalk.

P HILLY

And get you moved.

Philly munches on the celery and olives. Argo rubs the back of
his neck.

A RGO

What...what about Sven? What if

I'm moved out and he should come
back?

P HILLY

Fuck him! Why should you be

looking out for him? Five years-
I don't give two shits and
neither should you. He isn't
coming back.

A RGO

But I can't just throw his stuff

away!

P HILLY

What you do with it is your own

business, but I need you here, or
I'll shit, piss and puke bile
every time these fucks edit my
work.
Argo scratches his head.

A RGO

Where will I stay?

I NT - S VEN & A RGO ' S A PARTMENT - S ATURDAY M ORNING

PHILLY and ARGO are surrounded by boxes and piles of items

stacked according to ownership, type and ultimate destination.
They pack and label, chatting the time away.

A RGO

I can't believe we're practically

going to be neighbors!

P HILLY

About that- I'm moving into the

KLUTZ house, so you'll be
neighbor-less in a while.

A RGO

Are you mad? Moving into the

KLUTZ house? They great guys,
don't mistake me. But...

P HILLY

It just works out better for me

that way. I've a center to run,
you know. And now, also a show to
write and shoot.

Argo picks up a book.

A RGO

Remember, I told you that? But

you just pissed and moaned about
the edits.

Argo looks at the spine of the book to read the title.

A RGO (C ONT .)

Look at this! "Oppenheimer Family

Bible" I can't believe Sven never
showed me this!
 P HILLY

Great! Too bad I'm a heathen,

though.

Argo gives Philly a blank stare.

A RGO

It's a Family Bible, ninny. It

will have your family tree for so
many generations you'll spit.

P HILLY

What?

A RGO

That's what makes it a "Family"

Bible.

Philly stammers at this chance opportunity.

P HILLY

I...what to say? Show me!

Argo opens the book in his leathered hands, leafing to the

back of the book. Finding the Geneological record, he scans
down until he finds "Sven Oppenheimer" and hands the book to
Philly, tapping the entry.

A RGO

See?

Philly follows the entries back in time, reading the

occasional absurd entry.

P HILLY

"Adam Weishaupt...Da
Vinci...Alexander the Great...

Philly cocks his brow at that last entry.

 P HILLY (C ONT .)

Holy fist fuck! "Yeshua, The

Nazarene?" He's got to be bat-
shit insane, I know it now. He
probably really thinks we are
descended from Jesus. What a
fucking coot.

A RGO

I don't know Phillip...your

father has told me some pretty
outlandish things I didn't
believe at the time- but they
turned out to be true.

P HILLY

Yeah? Truth is subjective.

A RGO

If I smashed you on the head with

a barstool, would it be
subjective?

P HILLY

Maybe.

Argo grabs the Bible from Philly's hands and thumps him on the
head with the thick tome, causing Philly to yelp.

P HILLY

Eh! Okay, okay! I get the point!

A RGO

That's Objective reality.

P HILLY

I still think it- and he- are

crazy.

A RGO

Fair enough. Let's get the rest

of this packed.

Argo tucks the Bible safely in his carry-on bag. Philly is

looking between several piles of items on the floor.
 P HILLY

This is the storage pile, right?

I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - D ECEMBER 21, 2012

Philly is introducing a montage of clips from the shows

through the years.

P HILLY

All right. The time we have spent

together, over these past years,
has been the stuff of magic,
truly. Let us take a moment now
to see some highlights of those
years. Frank...

Philly waits for FRANK to run the clip.

P HILLY

Frank? FRANK! Run the clips!

Frank, in the control room, snaps back to full alertness after

having nodded off. He flips a switch and nods off again.

E XT - A L AKE - C ONTINUOUS

PHILLY is dressed as a pirate with an eye patch. He floats

along the water with PANDORA in a dingy. Philly reaches out
and takes hold of Pandora's hand.

P HILLY

You don't have to worry, baby.

Most men have a wandering eye.

Philly lifts his eye patch, revealing a droopy eye.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Mine's just lazy.

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

FRED and SVEN survey a fresh test crop, walking along rows of
plants. The plants are about knee-high and in their sapling
stage. The two look at each other, hopeful and merry.
I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - C ONTINUOUS

PHILLY, FRANK, COLONEL and LOUIS are marching in place with a

countryside backdrop behind them. They are decked out in
period Union Army regalia from the Civil War. Colonel, ranked
a Colonel, marches lead, asking questions to rally the men.

C OLONEL

And what if there's more of them

than there are of us?

M EN

We shall be nary merciful

mercenaries, sir!

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

SVEN and FRED stand before row after row of dead plants. Sven
hangs his head in shame. Fred just looks coldly at him.

I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - C ONTINUOUS

Philly, as STOCKHOLM, is buying an Oldsmobile from an elderly

couple.

M AN

...and then, BAM! They shot

President Kennedy! Just like
that!

W OMAN

Oh, but we weren't exactly

watching it, you know. We didn't
find out until later because we
were buying this car at that very
moment.

M AN

Am I telling the story, or what?

Stockholm interrupts them, increasingly impatient.

S TOCKHOLM

Okay; so- everything is cheese. I

just have one question: why does
the license plate say, "Il Kike"?
The elderly couple looks at each other, bewildered. The
license plate reads, "ILKIKE" with no spaces.

M AN

Well...actually...it's short for

"I like Ike".

I NT - C LOUD N EIN – C ONTINUOUS

SVEN is smashing at a keyboard behind his computer in his

dormitory room, as various screens and dialogue boxes open and
close.

I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - CONTINUOUS

PHILLY enters the set through a small door to a quaint, little

boutique. PANDORA greets him, dressed in gaudy gypsy garb.

P HILLY

It's nice to meet you, finally;

I've been waiting for hours! What
took so long?

Pandora replies in a poor quality Turkish accent.

P ANDORA

I'm terribly sorry- I was at

church. I thought our appointment
was on Friday.

They walk over to a small circular table with tarot cards and
incense burning, Pandora in the lead. Philly sniffs the air a
few times and gestures holding a joint to his lips and puffing
a few times.

P HILLY

Friday? But you wrote it down. I

even asked you to read it back to
me: you said "Sunday, 5 o'clock".

Pandora pulls her chair out and sits; Philly follows suit.

P ANDORA

I know, I know- my apologies.

 P HILLY

So wait- you're a psychic...and

you forgot that our appointment
was on Sunday?

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

SVEN and FRED stand, again, before a new test crop. The plants
are hearty and tall, having reached the beginnings of the
flowering stage. Everything seems to be in order looking over
the clipboard and the plants seem to be okay, so everyone is
cheerful and light.

I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - C ONTINUOUS

PHILLY, PANDORA and FRANK are in a group therapy session;

LOUIS is their bespectacled therapist. Pandora and Frank are
standing, hugging and crying tears of relief over their
reconciliation. Letters written as part of their therapy have
been cast to the floor.

L OUIS

Doesn't it feel wonderful to open

yourself to meaningful
communication? George, why don't
you go ahead and read your letter
now?

Everyone turns to look Philly, Pandora and Frank still

embracing. Philly holds his folded letter in his hand.

P HILLY

Actually, um...Could we not? I

thought I was supposed to...I
misunderstood the exercise.

P ANDORA

Aww, come on!

F RANK

It's only fair- and it feels

really cleansing!

L OUIS

Go on, George...
Reluctantly, Philly unfolds his letter and holds it out before
him. He takes a deep breath.

P HILLY

Okay..."Dear Sally; Die, die,

die, die, die..."

The three look on, mortified in place.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

"...die. Dear Michael; you reek

of cabbage."

Everyone is frozen by the tension. Philly suddenly relaxes

back into his skin.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

You're right, Michael; it really

does feel cleansing!

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

The new crop is dead, and SVEN is frantically running around

the facility. He stops behind an assistant and says something
to him, pointing to an item on his clipboard. The assistant
thinks for a moment, then shrugs. Sven smacks him on the head
with his clipboard.

I NT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - C ONTINUOUS .

PHILLY enters a room in an abandoned building. Rubble is piled

up in one corner, the moon shows through a window and the
wall. Philly recalls his instructions.

A RGO V.O.

Go to this address on a full moon

and sit on the pile of rubble in
the third room, facing the
corner. There, you will attain
enlightenment.

Philly climbs atop the rubble and sits facing the corner in
half lotus position. The scene shifts from night to day,
signified as a sun and moon switching places in the window, as
Philly meditates. Three days pass. On the third night, Philly
suddenly hears a rumbling from above him on the second floor.
A toilet falls through the ceiling, crashing on his head and
covering him in debris and feces. Two SQUATTERS come running
in from another room. Seeing Philly, they stop.
 S QUATTER 1

Who the fuck is that? I haven't

seen him here before.

S QUATTER 2

No one knows, really. Some say

he's a holy man trying to attain
enlightenment; others just say
he's a shit head.

Philly's head explodes as he attains enlightenment.

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

SVEN is sitting at his computer, looking dejected. He scours

over statistics and projections, trying to determine what had
gone wrong this time. Out of suppressed self-disgust, he
punches a pencil cup on his desk without provocation.

E XT - T HE F ILLET S HOW - C ONTINUOUS

PHILLY is in hobo attire, walking down the street wielding a

large picket sign that reads, "The End Is Near!" He walks
passed two people chatting and sipping coffee outside a cafe.
Philly makes no eye contact, even when the bystanders begin
staring at him. As Philly continues walking down the street,
the bystanders stare at the back of Philly's sign, which reads
"And the beginning is even CLOSER than THAT!" The bystanders
appear baffled.

I NT - C LOUD N EIN - C ONTINUOUS

SVEN is taking a walk to try relaxing for a moment. The dead

plants surround him. They look like dead Christmas trees
dripping green duck crap, which only makes Sven feel worse. He
stops walking to take a deep breath, hoping to regain some
composure, but he erupts anyway.

S VEN

What is it?

Sven reaches out to touch one of the plants, caressing a

withered leaf. He grabs hold of the main stock of the plant
and begins thrashing it about.

S VEN (C ONT .)

What is it? What is it? WHAT IS

IT?!
Sven's thrashing shakes the plant out of it's pot, sending the
pot into a few other pots and knocking them over. Sven drops
to his knees, then hangs his head and sobs. He looks up a
little to wipe his eyes and a small, black object catches his
peripheral vision. Sven quickly wipes the rest of his tears
away and reaches for the object. He jerks his hand back just
before he picks the rat up. He looks at it now, knowing what
it is: a rat, laying there coiled in the fetal position,
thoroughly dead. He picks it up by the tail and an idea occurs
to him. Rattail in hand, Sven snatches the uprooted plant as
well and races to his computer in the analysis room.

I NT – C LOUD N EIN M EETING R OOM – T HE NEXT DAY

SVEN is explaining to FRED his suspicions and his discoveries.

S VEN

We’ve had a rat all along. I

tested the plant and it’s clean.
It’s CLEAN! The rat died from
eating it. So it’s been failing-
and this is funny, because it’s
what’s been keeping me up at
night- it’s been failing because
we have an infestation of rats!

Fred stares in disbelief.

F RED

Do you have any proof?

Sven places a small manila folder on the table and slides it

towards Fred.

I NT – B EE ’ S K NEES O FFICE – M ID AUGUST 2012

Mr. Asuras’ personal assistant- The ASS- is on the phone using

her networking skills to set up production for the final
Fillet Show! airing.

F RED

Cloud Nein licensed dispensaries,

this is Fred, how may I help you?
 T HE A SS

Hi! I’m the ASS, personal

assistant to Mr. Asuras,
executive producer and editor of
“The Fillet Show!” variety hour.
We’ve wanted to do a production
using large quantities of
cannabis since it was legalized
in 2009, but we’ve only recently
been able to negotiate terms for
permits and the like. I’m just
calling around to price different
dispensaries, and you’re first on
the list.

F RED

That’s great! How’d you hear

about us?

T HE A SS

Your name’s all the buzz. Even

Mr. Fillet speaks highly. There
was even one type he wouldn’t
shut the fuck up about- something
heavenly or some such...

F RED

Heavenly High?

T HE A SS

That’s it! Hey, can we get to the

skinny? What kind of prices are
you willing to negotiate?

Fred pauses for the briefest of moments.

F RED

Truth be told, I’m kind of a big

fan of the show. Don’t tell
anyone, please- it would ruin my
image of seriousness. Fuck it-
we’ll do the show, gratis.
I NT – T HE FI LLET S HOW ! S ET – D ECEMBER 21, 2012

Stagehands are laying down black drip tubing along the

audience seating. Outside, the ASS is walking down the
admission line with a clipboard. She stops at a COUPLE in
line.

T HE A SS

Welcome to the show! I’m the ASS

and I’m just going around
getting everyone to sign one of
these waivers informing you that
tonight’s performance will expose
you to THC vapors, and you agree
to be exposed, and release The
Fillet Show and Bee’s Knees
Productions from any and all
liability pertaining to said
exposure.

M AN

Okay...I have to sign something?

Is there some kind of cover
charge, or...?

T HE A SS

No cover, just a three-laugh

minimum.

The WOMAN touches the man’s arm.

W OMAN

I dunno, honey. Remember the last

time you got stoned out of your
gourde? It took three grown men
to pry you from that Plexiglas
ice cream cone.

T HE A SS

I assure you, ma’am, we have no

cones on the premises. We’ll even
be providing refreshments.

The ASS hands them the clipboard.

M AN

It’s on like Viet-Cong!

The man signs the waiver and hands it to his lady friend.

W OMAN

I guess we could always get a

cab.

She signs the waiver with a sigh.

T HE A SS

In San Francisco? Fat chance!

The ASS grabs the clipboard and moves on to the next in line.

I NT – T HE F ILLET S HOW ! B ACKSTAGE – DECEMBER 21, 2012

ARGO sits, eating candied walnuts as the audience files into

the seating area on the other side of the set. PHILLY
approaches the stage curtain and looks at Argo. Argo looks
back and they share a tender pre-performance moment.

A RGO

Break a leg, son.

Philly stands on his queue, gripped with dread. The time seems
to stretch out before him without end as the audience settles.
Finally, the CAMERAMAN begins his countdown.

C AMERA M AN

...and five...four...three...

The cameraman mimes the “two” and the “one”, and Philly comes
onstage.

P HILLY

(Exuberantly)
Eh, everybody! Please to be
welcome to “The Fillet Show!” I
am Philly Fillet, your host, as
well as singer for our house
band, The Love Cuts- Please to
say, “Hello!”

Argo hears the opening monologue, muffled by the partitions

that keep him from being visible to the audience. Out of
habit, he raises his wrist to check the time. When he lowers
his wrist again, he sees SVEN standing backstage, some ways
away and walking towards him.
 A RGO

...Sven?

Sven looks particularly tired- more run down than usual.

S VEN

Argo.

A RGO

Where the devil have you been all

this time?

Sven stops in his tracks and studies his feet and the
surrounding floor for a moment. Sheepishly, he responds.

S VEN

I’ve been working...on a project.

It’s finished now, and I don’t
particularly feel like discussing
it. Somehow, though, Phillip’s PA
located me and gave me an
invitation to come. She said
Phillip wanted me here for a very
special event.

Argo stands and slowly walks towards Sven.

A RGO

He said the same to me- a “very

special event...”

Sven holds his hands out to halt Argo.

S VEN

Argo: I don’t expect you to

forgive me for leaving. I know I
can be a very difficult person to
love, but I...

A RGO

I’ve always loved you, Sven. It’s

part of who I am.

They rush together, entwining in the mutual elation of a

rapturous embrace.
 A RGO

I have moved out of our

apartment. I live in this “god-
forsaken city” now.

S VEN

(Somewhat playful)
You didn’t!
(More seriously)
What about all of my things?

A RGO

I have kept them in storage. By

the by, we found the Oppenheimer
Family Bible in the move. I
always knew there was something
special about you, priory of
scion... ha!

Sven’s lips draw tight and stiff, his eyes glowing embers of
reproachful embarrassment. He pulls away from Argo.

S VEN

It is real, Argo. It is really

real.

Argo gives this some thought for a moment.

A RGO

If that’s the case, we need to

discuss something. I think I may
have figured why our little
Philly’s genes never fit.

I NT – T HE FILLET S HOW ! S TAGE – T OWARDS THE END OF THE SHOW

Philly is in the middle of a song with the Love Cuts.

[“Heavenly High” Theme]
 P HILLY

Ewige Blumenkraft! It’s your last

laugh, so make it last. I’ll pass
a critical mass through your ass;
my spit’ll whittle your hash.
Injecting lyrical protein clean
into your spleen- I mean that you
just seem to be bleeding. Was it
something I said? Words fed into
your head? Embedding spitting
viper commands, I wash my hands
of your dread. Lock my stock and
I’m loaded, bloated biez, I’ll
kick your hounden as soon as the
room clears of all the smoke that
I’m vac-uumin’. ‘Cause I’m a
lyrical shipwreck with a
spiritual poop deck. I’m loopin’
the new tech, first thought of by
Olmec. A confection of convention
and I’m itchin’ to kick this
kitsch- ‘Cause I’m heavenly high!

The crowd cheers and applauds.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Thank you! Thank you! You’re all

too kind! I would also like to
thank Cloud Nein dispensaries for
supplying the heavenly THC vapors
we are using tonight. Is everyone
having a good time?

The audience roars. While they hoot like primates, SVEN runs
onstage. ARGO, in pursuit, is trying to stop him.

A RGO

Sven, stop! It can wait!

P HILLY

Ladies and gentlemen, please to

welcome my father, Sven, and my
Other Father, Argo!

Sven tries to intervene, but is drowned out by the applause.

S VEN

Phillip, you need to stop now,

there’s...
 P HILLY

You know, my Father Argo and I

have been estranged from my
father Sven for too many years to
comfortably speak about.

The audience, like a singular entity, lets out a long,

sympathetic “awwww...”

P HILLY (C ONT .)

Shortly after he left us, I

discovered that they were both
Nazi scientists in their youth.
It caused some major friction
between myself and Argo.

Argo stands beside Sven, both spellbound in place. The

audience hisses at them in distaste.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

But we’ve worked through that,

even considering that I’m a
failed clone of Hitler himself!

Thinking it a joke, the audience laughs.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

...and tonight I can say this

with a clean heart: Father, I
forgive you, for you have sinned.
I love you, Father.

Philly hugs Sven and the audience melts at the display of

warmth. All the while, THC vapors seep from the black drip
tubing laid along the audience seating.

S VEN

But Phillip! You weren’t cloned

from Hitler’s DNA. We think it
was Dieter’s- my father’s- DNA.

Philly un-embraces Sven.

P HILLY

How is that even possible?

 S VEN

Dieter was his...was Hitler’s...

personal assistant. I didn’t even
know back then, not until I saw
them together. He acquired the
genetic sample through...

Sven swallows hard.

S VEN (C ONT .)

...through the act of fellatio.

That’s why your and Hitler’s
genes don’t fit; you’re a clone
of Dieter.

P HILLY

So wait...you’re saying that... I

am my own grandfather?

The recurrent HECKLER in the audience stands and begins to

sing the refrain of the well-known song.

H ECKLER

“I’m my own grand-pa! I’m my own

grand...”

The audience laughs with delight. Philly draws a revolver from

inside his sports coat and fires three shots directly into the
chest of the heckler. He collapses and the crowd gasps in
horror. One of them screams.

P HILLY

(Lightly)
Let’s have a round of applause
for the house heckler, everyone!

The heckler stands, revealing his “chest loads” and the

connected trigger that detonates the loads. He demonstrates a
few more simulated chest shots to make sure the audience knows
it was a ruse, bows and exits stage right as the audience
claps.

S VEN

Don’t you realize, Phillip? You

are a virgin birth from the line
of David, the line of the Christ-
you are the New Messiah!
The audience, still thinking this is a joke, laughs and
laughs. Argo nudges Sven and speaks under his breath.

A RGO

Sven, come. We can discuss this

after the show.

The audience builds to a roaring laughter. Tears are streaming

from cheeks and thighs are being slapped. Suddenly, someone in
the audience begins choking. A few audience members look at
this person as the rest continue laughing. Two more people in
the audience begin choking and gasping. Soon, the wheezing
takes hold of the entire audience and they begin to drop like
flies, scratching and scathing for breath. Sven grabs Philly
by the lapel and shakes him like a baby.

S VEN

You said you were filling the

room with THC vapor? Where did
the grass come from, Philly?
Where?

P HILLY

Cloud Nein! Cloud Nein!

The audience continues to fall to their knees, groping in

panic. Few remain. Argo simply stands, fixed in place now by
the sheer horror of the situation.

S VEN

You’ve effectively gassed the

audience to death with Zyclon B!
We have to get out of here.

Sven grabs Philly and Argo and yanks them along with him.
Crewmembers and stagehands run about, aimless and frightened.
As the three of them exit the building, the very last audience
member keels over. His shirt reads, “Watch out! The bucket’s
gonna kick YOU!”

I NT - A C OURTHOUSE – J ANRUARY 1, 2013

PHILLY stands before a JUDGE as the judge passes sentence on

him.
 J UDGE

You have been charged, Phillip

Fillet, with 47 counts of
involuntary manslaughter, felony
evasion, aiding and abetting war
criminals and high treason, and
found guilty on this, the first
of January, 2013.

The judge looks Philly in the eye, staring down from his
elevated seat. Murmurs pass around the courtroom and the judge
bangs his gavel to call order.

J UDGE

While you would remain a viable

witness if we had apprehended
Oppenheimer and Christou- your
supposed fathers- they are not in
custody. As such, I sentence you
to death by exposure to the same
THC vapors you unleashed upon the
audience. Let the punishment fit
the crime. Court is adjourned.

The judge bangs his gavel again to seal his pronouncement. The
lights lower, leaving only Philly visible as prison bars slam
closed and obscure him. He walks over to a lethal-injection
style table. The EXECUTIONER approaches, instructs him to lie
on the table and straps him down. He pulls the side tables
that restrain Philly’s arms out until they click and lock into
place, leaving Philly in a Crucifix position.

E XECUTIONER

Have you any final words?

Philly, after some thought, perks up a bit and replies.

P HILLY

You can’t have “Manslaughter”

without “Man’s Laughter”!

The executioner exits and smoke begins to fill the room.

Philly coughs a bit, and then begins to breathe deeply and
freely. After a moment, his face slacks with the notable mark
of euphoria.

P HILLY (C ONT .)

You are now breathing manually;

do not rhesus-itate!
Philly begins to hoot like a monkey, begins choking and
abruptly dies.

T HE E ND