INT – LOCAL DANCE CLUB – NIGHT
(We see Miguel looking very
uncomfortable, and standing with Chris who is casually dancing, and Brian who is
just staring at Miguel with a huge, uncomfortable grin on his face.)
BRIAN (yelling over the music):
Isn’t this the greatest club?
(Miguel doesn’t respond.)
BRIAN: Isn’t this the greatest
club?
(Nothing from Miguel. Brian grabs
Miguel’s ass.)
MIGUEL: What the hell are you
doing?
BRIAN: Isn’t this club great?
MIGUEL: Yes, you can rub it
later. Just not here in public.
BRIAN (to Chris): Why does Miguel
have more trouble hearing me over the music than anyone else.
CHRIS: Earplugs.
BRIAN: Lame.
CHRIS: Who is the DJ tonight?
This bomb is the dope.
(Brian just stares at Chris
slightly bewildered. Then finally responds.)
BRIAN: That’s DJ Bane. He’s from Gotham City.
MIGUEL: Yeah, I hate this goddamn
city. Can we go home now?
(Brian turns his attention back
to Miguel. He reaches into his ear and pops out an earplug.)
BRIAN: You never get out. You
never do anything. We’re going to enjoy ourselves away from the apartment for
once.
(Brian turns, crosses his arms in
a pout, and enjoys himself.)
BRIAN: See me enjoying myself?
MIGUEL: Oh, how I long for an
alternate universe where I have a loving wife and daughter that provide me an
excuse to never have to deal with these two.
(There is a slight
Hollywood-esque feedback as DJ Bane clicks the microphone on.)
DJ BANE: Alright y’all. Are the
party people in the house?
(The crowd gives a rousing
affirmative that Chris and Brian join in with as Miguel stands there dumbly.)
CHRIS & BRIAN (with crowd):
Yeah!
DJ BANE: I said, “Are the party
people in the house?”
(Brian elbows Miguel in the gut.)
MIGUEL: Umph.
CHRIS & BRIAN (with crowd):
Yeah!
MIGUEL: Uh, yeah.
DJ BANE: Alright, we’re going to
break this down one time!
(Drum fills from all over the
preset map fill the club as DJ Bane lifts a body from the floor over his head.
It appears to be Batman. He brings him down and the crowd can hear his back
break even over the drum fills. The crowd cringes. Miguel, meanwhile, is
jumping up and down with girlish excitement.)
MIGUEL: Now that was worth the 10
bucks to get in!
(Cut to Chris’s nose sniffing and
the Sniffles Theme Song plays, showing various credits and scenes from the
show.)
INT – LOCAL DANCE CLUB – NIGHT
(We find Miguel and Brian sitting
in a booth as pulsating trance music does it’s best to make the humans in the
club deaf. As the camera pans over to them, we see Chris outside talking on his
cell phone. Cut to a close up of Miguel and Brian.)
MIGUEL: I don’t get what the hook
would be.
BRIAN: It’s just funny. I bet
Chris would think it’s funny. You just have no sense of humour anymore.
MIGUEL: Say humor again.
BRIAN: Humor.
MIGUEL: Ok, it sounded weird the
first time. Explain the idea to me again and I’ll try to understand the joke.
BRIAN: Me and Chris are wearing
dresses and we’re talking about our feelings and our periods…
MIGUEL: …
BRIAN: Like we’re women. Talking
about our periods.
MIGUEL: And you want this to be a
sketch in our show together, or on something you and Chris do without me?
BRIAN: Just nevermind. I’ll get
Chris to explain it to you.
(Chris walks up at that point.)
BRIAN: Chris, explain to Miguel
about period sketch.
(Chris looks at Miguel.)
CHRIS: When a man and a woman
love each other very much…
BRIAN: No! You know what I’m
talking about!
CHRIS: What are you talking
about?
BRIAN: Didn’t I tell you about
the period sketch?
CHRIS: The one that’s at the end
of the show, but is neither exciting nor questionable?
BRIAN: What?
MIGUEL: He’s doing math humor
again. Ignore him.
BRIAN: I like his math humour.
MIGUEL: Say humor.
BRIAN: Humor.
MIGUEL: It sounds weird when you
say it sometimes. I think this music is wrecking my hearing. [to Chris] Is
Nathan coming?
CHRIS: He said he’s spending a
quiet night at home with his wife.
(Chris waves at someone.)
CHRIS: Hey, good to see you! Hope
we get a chance to talk soon!
BRIAN: Who was that?
CHRIS: Nathan’s wife. Her church
group meets at the organic drink bar here.
BRIAN: To read scripture?
CHRIS: To prepare for the
marathon tomorrow.
BRIAN: I bet you she’d get the
period sketch.
CHRIS: Only about once a month.
MIGUEL: Oh my god, Brian! It’s
not even a sketch. It’s an idea that doesn’t actually connect to anything other
than your warped view of comedy.
BRIAN: Oh yeah!
(Brian looks around for a brief
moment. He holds up his hand and waves at someone.)
BRIAN: Excuse me, miss!
(A young woman walks over to
Brian. Brian leans in and speaks somewhat inaudibly into her ear. His motions
suggest that he’s describing the sketch idea to the woman. She suddenly bursts
out laughing.)
WOMAN: Oh my god! You’re so
funny.
(She kisses him on the forehead.
And walks away laughing.)
CHRIS: Oh good. Like everything
else, our show is now going to be marketed to women.
MIGUEL: Why don’t we do that? Why
don’t we go home and work on the show? You guys are always bitching that I
don’t want to work on the show, but here we are wasting time at a dance club
when we could be shooting a sketch.
CHRIS: And so the bargaining
phase begins…
DJ BANE (over microphone): Are
the party people in the house?
MIGUEL: Yes, we’re still here.
DJ BANE: I said, “Are the party
people in the house?”
CHRIS & BRIAN (with crowd):
Yeah!
DJ BANE: Alright, we’re going to
break this down one time!
MIGUEL: Ooh, this never gets old.
(Once again, DJ Bane lifts Batman
over his head and drops him down with a backbreaking move.)
MIGUEL: Ok, it’s old now. Let’s
go home.
CHRIS: I have an idea that will
help you have a good time. I’ll be right back.
(Chris walks away. Miguel and
Brian watch him go.)
BRIAN: Is he going to talk to the
DJ?
MIGUEL: Looks like it. I hope he
gets pile-drived by the DJ.
(Chris approaches the DJ booth.)
CHRIS: Hey, hey DJ Bane.
DJ BANE: Hey, what’s up?
CHRIS: Yeah, buddy. I’m not sure.
I never talk like this. Ever.
DJ BANE: Just pretend I’m a
friend and not a DJ.
CHRIS: How is it going? Hey, it
worked. Listen, my friend is kind of being a bummer tonight. Will you play a
track for him? The one with all the NPR sound bites and the hip hop
sensibility.
DJ BANE: It’s called “Car-Nay-Gee
not Carnegie.”
CHRIS: Yeah, that's the one.
Awesome.
DJ BANE: I only have the “2 Elite
for This” Remix.
CHRIS: That’ll do just fine.
(Chris walks out to the dance
floor and waves for Miguel and Brian to join him. He can actually hear Miguel’s
sigh over the music, but they meet him on the dance floor. It’s at this point
that DJ Bane speaks into the microphone.)
DJ BANE: Alright, is everybody
ready for this place to go off?
MIGUEL: I hope that means “close
down for the night.”
CHRIS & BRIAN (with crowd):
Yeah!
(The track shifts seamlessly into
Chris’s request.)
MIGUEL: Oh my god! I love this
song.
(Within a few measures Miguel’s
feet slowly come alive like a prude in an 80s rock video. Before a minute has
passed he’s got moves like Carlton.
Chris, Brian, and pretty much the entire club hits the dance floor to shake
their butt (and/or their rump – shout out Fishmasters!). At some point, Brian
moves in behind Miguel and starts grinding him.)
MIGUEL: What are you doing?
BRIAN: It’s ok. Liberals love
homosexuality.
MIGUEL: Valid point.
DJ BANE: Yeah, this place has
come alive! Is everybody feeling good!
(The crowd gives out its
obligatory “yeah,” but it’s hard to hear over Miguel’s excited war cry.)
MIGUEL: YEEEEEEAAAAAH! We’re
rocking this house!
DJ BANE: Alright, everyone put
your hands in the air. Woot! Woot!
(The crowd obliges and let’s out
a woot woot.)
DJ BANE: Now everybody lean to
the left. Woot! Woot!
(The crowd obliges and let’s out
a woot woot.)
DJ BANE: Now, just keep leaning
to the left and try not to fall over. Are the party people in the house?
BATMAN (lying on the floor): Oh
dear god, no.
INT – LOCAL DANCE CLUB – NIGHT
(Chris, Miguel, and Brian sit in
the corner. Each of them has recently been sweating lots and lots.)
MIGUEL: I’m glad we decided to
get out tonight. This place is a blast.
CHRIS: We have acceptance.
(The woman from earlier (you know,
the whole period sketch thing) walks up to Brian. She’s rubbing his chest and
his head.)
WOMAN: Oh my god. You’re so
funny, which I find really attractive. And you’re gay. I want to screw your
brains out so bad.
BRIAN: Ok and ok.
WOMAN: Oh my god.
BRIAN: Being funny and gay
attracts women?
CHRIS: That’s pretty much the
only way I ever get laid?
WOMAN: Oh my god.
(The woman walks off as suddenly
as she appeared.)
MIGUEL: I’m thirsty. I haven’t
sweated this much since I read about Disney buying Star Wars. I’m going to go
buy us some soda.
BRIAN: Did that girl seem… I
don’t know… off.
CHRIS: Compared to you?
BRIAN: Just feeling weird about
that whole thing.
(Miguel walks up with three sodas
in plastic cups.)
MIGUEL: I hope you don’t mind,
but all they had was Mr. Pibb.
CHRIS: Oh sure, why not. We’re
out and having a good time. Who am I to get uptight over a soda brand? Cheers!
(The three friends raise their
cups and toast the evening. Chris takes a quick swig of the soda, before Miguel
or Brian even have a chance to bring their cups to their lips. His face turns
sour almost instantly and he spits up the soda all over Miguel.)
MIGUEL: What the fuck! Oh this is
great!
CHRIS: Sorry about that, man. I
don’t know what the hell happened.
MIGUEL: It’s ok. It just soda. At
first I thought you were going to vom…
(Chris suddenly vomits all over
Miguel.)
MIGUEL: What! The! FUCK!
CHRIS: I don’t…
(Vomit from Chris’s mouth to
Miguel’s lap.)
MIGUEL: If I wasn’t paralyzed in
disgust…
BRIAN: Colours…
(Chris vomits again.)
MIGUEL: What did you say?
BRIAN: Colors.
MIGUEL: No, say colors again.
(Chris vomits.)
MIGUEL: Will you god damn stop
that!
BRIAN: Colours…
MIGUEL: See? Every so often, you
say those words weird.
(Chris vomits a few steady streams.
The perspective changes to Brian who is seeing the vomit spewing in bright,
vibrant colours.)
BRIAN: Fuck yeah.
MIGUEL: What the hell is wrong
with you, Chris! Please fucking stop!
(Vomits bright orange as Brian
sees it.)
MIGUEL: Please, please stop. This
was…
(Vomits bright yellow as Brian
sees it.)
MIGUEL: …such a beautiful
evening. Oh god.
BRIAN: It is so beautiful…
(Vomits neon blue as Brian sees
it. Brian applauds girlishly.)
MIGUEL (getting a splash of vomit
in the face): We just can’t do anything without it turning bad, can we? It’s
always got to get weird with you.
(Miguel wipes vomit from his eyes
and waits for the next burst. The woman walks by.)
WOMAN: Ooh, colours.
BRIAN: Hell yeah, sister.
CHRIS: I have a thought…
(Vomits a glowing red as Brian
sees it.)
BRIAN: Glowing bloods.
CHRIS: I think whatever that girl
is on seeped from her pores into Brian’s.
(Vomits.)
BRIAN: That one was this funky
Prince level purple.
(Chris breathes slowly and
steadily.)
CHRIS: I think I’m ok now.
MIGUEL: I would say thank god,
but I’m already shell shocked.
CHRIS: Mental note. No Mr. Pibb
for me.
BRIAN: Great! Let’s go!
(Brian stands up and walks for
the door.)
CHRIS: I get the impression we
should follow him and make sure he doesn’t try humping a policeman’s leg.
MIGUEL: Please tell me I brought
a change of clothes.
CHRIS: I can’t lie to you. Not
even to make you feel better. Let’s go find Brian.
(Miguel dumps the remaining
drinks over him to try to knock some of the vomit off, and then follows Chris
out the door.)
EXT – LOCAL DANCE CLUB - NIGHT
(Miguel finds Chris outside
calling a name as if looking for someone.)
CHRIS: Chris!
(Some guy across the road looks
up.)
GUY: Yeah?
CHRIS: Not you. Chris!
(Some guy walks out of the club.)
GUY 2: Did someone call me?
CHRIS: Not you! Chris!
(A passing car slams on its
brakes coming to a squealing stop. It backs up slowly.)
DRIVER: Did you call me, mate?
CHRIS: No, not you.
MIGUEL: We’re looking for Brian.
CHRIS: Brian!
(Faintly down the road they
hear…)
BRIAN: Colours…
DRIVER: He’s the first bloke I’ve
heard who knows how to speak English since I got here.
MIGUEL: He sounds like he’s a
ways down the road. We’d better try to catch him.
DRIVER: Get in. I’ll help you
find him.
(Miguel looks at Chris
questioningly.)
CHRIS: He’s British. What can go
wrong?
(Chris and Miguel get in the car
and the British Chris turns a U-Turn in the street.) They drive slowly down the
road looking for Brian.)
MIGUEL: He could really be
anywhere by now. We don’t know if he’s walking or running.
(They pass a building with the
window broken out. An alarm is going off.)
CHRIS: Slow down. Do you have a
flashlight?
(British Chris slows and gets a
flashlight from his duffle bag. He hands it to Chris. Chris shines the
flashlight into the building.)
CHRIS: It’s a hunting supply
store, and he seems to have taken some supplies with him.
MIGUEL: Greeeeaaat.
CHRIS: Well, let’s drive on
before we’re blamed.
MIGUEL: Where would a crazy moron
take a rifle in the Dallas
area?
CHRIS: Seriously?
MIGUEL: What?
CHRIS: Too soon, Miguel.
MIGUEL: What?
BRITISH CHRIS: Pretty tasteless,
mate. And I’m not even from here.
MIGUEL: What are you talking
about?
CHRIS: Pull over to this
convenience store. I have an idea.
(British Chris pulls into the
store parking lot and parks. Chris goes in and buys something. When he comes
out he has a six pack of Mr. Pibb.)
MIGUEL: Oh no. You’ve covered me
with puke enough already.
CHRIS: Not for me. Move over.
(They drive on; following the
path that they feel makes the most sense…)
MIGUEL: Isn’t that Brian’s shirt?
(…which mostly involves following
the path of Brian’s discarded clothing, until…)
MIGUEL: Is that Brian?
CHRIS: Yes.
MUGUEL: Is he going into the
woods?
CHRIS: Yes.
MIGUEL: Is he completely naked
CHRIS: Yes.
MIGUEL: Do we really have to
follow?
CHRIS (sighs): Yes.
(British Chris brings the car to
a stop and reaches over and tries to open the door by grabbing Miguel’s breast
(men have breasts too, they’re just not as fun to look at).)
BRITISH CHRIS: Ugh. I’ll never
get used to this driver side on the left thing.
(They all get out. Chris grabs
the flashlight. He empties out British Chris’s duffle bag and puts the Mr. Pibb
in. They move into the woods slowly. Chris tries to use his tracking skills to
find Brian, but soon realizes that Hollywood
probably invented that shit as a way to explain people finding other living
creatures in the woods.)
MIGUEL: I never would have pegged
Brian as evasive.
CHRIS: Quiet, or you’ll get us
all killed.
BRITISH CHRIS: Wait, is your
friend dangerous? I wouldn’t have come along…
CHRIS: Chill out, man. I’ve just
always wanted to say that in context, and this seemed like the closest to that
I’d get.
(It’s at this point that Brian
jumps out from the bushes and jumps on British Chris, licking his face.)
BRITISH CHRIS: Oh god, he is
dangerous.
(Brian dismounts.)
BRIAN: Chill out, man. I just
wanted to lick your face for some reason.
(Brian walks over to the bushes
and bends over. Everybody cringes and looks away.)
MIGUEL: I could have lived my
whole life without seeing that again.
CHRIS: Again?
MIGUEL: Long story that I think
I’d suppressed.
BRIAN: Uh, guys.
(They all look. Brian is holding
three rifles. He tosses one to Miguel and one to Chris. They catch them.)
BRIAN: C’mon. We’re going Snipes
hunting.
MIGUEL: It’s snipe hunting, and
it’s not a real…
BRIAN: Wesley! Come out wherever
you are!
MIGUEL: Nevermind. I see what you
did there.
(Chris picks up the duffle bag and
tries to rush up to Brian who is moving at a pretty good clip.)
CHRIS: Brian, I need you to
drink…
(There is a loud growling sound
and everyone freezes in their tracks.)
CHRIS: I’m guessing that’s not a
Wesley.
BRIAN: Something ungodly inhabits
these woods. Show yourself awkward heathen!
(A bear exits the woods. The
camera angle cuts to a shot of the bear looking ferocious in slightly different
light.)
MIGUEL: Holy shit, holy fuck!
Chris what’s happening?
(Chris and Miguel start to back
away slowly. Brian just stands there taunting the bear, but doesn’t seem to be
doing anything to either subdue or kill it.)
BRITISH CHRIS: Oh bloody hell. I
thought all you Americans were trained with guns before your fifth birthday.
(British Chris grabs the rifle
from Chris and fires at the bear catching it in the shoulderish area. The bear
growls but ultimately slinks off.)
CHRIS: That was very good.
Thanks, man.
(British Chris turns and fires
the gun at Chris, hitting him in the shoulder.)
CHRIS: What do you have against
shoulders?
(Chris looks at his shoulder and
sees that it was only slightly grazed.)
CHRIS: Ok, I need everyone to
drop their guns. We’re all a little shaken up because of the bear, and someone
is going to get hurt…
(Three guns drop to the ground.)
CHRIS: Thank you.
(And suddenly Brian and British
Chris are rushing Miguel.)
MIGUEL: Chrisssssss!
CHRIS: Damn it, Brian! What are
you doing now!
(Brian tackles Miguel and he and
British Chris start taking bites out of Miguel’s flesh. Miguel screams, but is
secretly enamored with the blood and gore. Chris kicks Brian in the head, but
it doesn't seem to stop him. He kicks British Chris in the head, but only gets
part of Miguel’s shoulder spit on him in response.)
CHRIS: Damn it. I bought this
shirt at the concert.
(Brian tears Miguel’s shirt and
claws at Miguel’s stomach until he tears it open and pulls out intestines.
Miguel looks down at his stomach.)
MIGUEL: That is so cool.
(Then Miguel passes out from the
shock. Meanwhile, Chris is running over to get one of the rifles. He realizes
that he’s going to have to kill a couple of people. Then he sees the duffle
bag. He remembers his plan before things went so bad. He has one other possible
hope. He grabs the Mr. Pibb and slowly approaches the two cannibals.)
CHRIS: Brian, I think you need
something to wash that down.
(Chris reaches out the Mr. Pibb
and pours it in Brian’s mouth, watching to make sure that Brian doesn’t take
off his hand in the process. Brian’s face turns instantly sour and he spits up
the soda on Miguel’s intestines. Miguel’s dead body randomly jerks from the
last of his brainwaves, as if in protest of being vomited on again. And on cue,
the vomiting starts. Brian starts a 2-minute vomit journey like the one Chris
had earlier.)
BRITISH CHRIS: Colors…
(Chris wastes no time. He uses
British Chris’s distraction from the meal at hand (and the hand that he was
making a meal of) to pour a Mr. Pibb down the British man’s throat. His face
turns instantly sour and the vomiting starts. The camera cuts to an aerial shot
and pulls slowly away from the scene of the two men vomiting all over the
corpse as an extremely good looking long-haired man watches in disgust.
INT – BRIAN, CHRIS, AND MIG…
WELL, BRIAN AND CHRIS’S APARTMENT – MORNING
(Chris stares listlessly at a box
of cereal. The cereal in his bowl has long sense gone soggy. Brian walks into
the kitchen.)
BRIAN: I take it from my hangover
that we had a great time last night.
(Chris glares at Brian for a
brief moment and then throws the soggy cereal across the room against the wall.
Brian pinches between his eyes as the bowl spins loudly on the floor, finally
settling after what seems like forever.)
BRIAN: Whatever way I molested
you after I blacked out, I apologize.
CHRIS: You really don’t remember
anything?
BRIAN: Look, I’m just saying with
the long hair, I might have…
CHRIS: Brian! You got dosed with
some sort of bad PCP laced X-tacy or something through skin contact with some
girl. Everything that happened after that was horrible.
BRIAN: I don’t remember any of
this.
CHRIS: You don’t remember running
off? You don’t remember the bear?
BRIAN: I remember some British
douche bag. Listen Chris, I’m sorry I don’t remember anything; but to be fair,
Miguel must have been just as fucked up, because he says he doesn’t remember
much of anything either.
CHRIS: Miguel is dead, you
insensitive prick. You and that British douche bag ate him.
BRIAN: Now that you mention it, I
do have a terrible aftertaste in my mouth.
CHRIS: That’s the Mr. Pibb.
BRIAN: But I think you must have
had a bad dream, because I just spoke to Miguel in the bathroom. He was on the
toilet reading something about George Lucas.
(Chris stands abruptly, pushing
the chair to the floor.)
BRIAN: What is wrong with you?
CHRIS: I hope for your sake that
you’re still hallucinating, because this disrespect of the dead…
BRIAN: Go look for yourself.
Miguel’s alive on the toilet. He smells like he crapped out something dead, but
he’s alive.
(Chris walks past Brian, slamming
Brian’s shoulder with his own.)
BRIAN: And I thought that British
guy was a douche bag.
(Chris opens the bathroom door to
find Miguel reading, “I’m an Atheist Unless George Lucas is God.”)
CHRIS: You’re aliv…
(Chris gags on the smell. He
pulls his shirt over his mouth.)
MIGUEL: Hey! Crazy times last
night. Neither me nor Brian can remem…
CHRIS: Brian and British Chris
ate you after getting hold of some bad drugs.
MIGUEL: What?
CHRIS: Last time I saw you, your
intestines were mealtime.
MIGUEL: Really?
CHRIS: So there should be no
remembering for you. You’re dead.
MIGUEL: Wow. Let me finish cra…
these last couple of paragraphs, and I’ll explain in my bedroom.
(Chris goes into Miguel’s bedroom
and waits. Miguel walks in.)
MIGUEL: That’s some good reading.
Anyway, you can’t tell Brian this, ok?
CHRIS: Depends on what it is.
MIGUEL: I have a cloning machine.
CHRIS: You what?
MIGUEL: It creates a temporary
clone of whoever you want as long as you have some of their DNA. The clone will
eventually dissolve into thin air, but it lasts long enough to send to work if
you don’t feel like going.
CHRIS: A cloning machine?
MIGUEL: Yeah, I got it for being
a part of the Industrial Light and Magic Fan Club.
CHRIS: Great. This is “Yellow
Ledbetter” all over again.
MIGUEL: Since I love my job at
the Post Office, I only ever use my one free clone a month when Brian gets it
in his head to go “do something fun.” Normally, when it comes home, I question
it before it dissolves. I fell asleep early, so I figured it must have already
dissolved.
(Chris looks at Miguel with a
look of minor shock on his face.)
MIGUEL: For what it’s worth, I’m
sorry you had a horrible evening. Is there anything I can do to make it up to
you?
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