excerpt from dirty dubdd

PAGE SIX.

PANEL ONE.

The shot will be of Nancy smiling and waving as she walks up to Aaron and Phil.

NANCY: What’s up guys?

PANEL TWO.

The shot will be of Phil and Aaron looking up at Nancy from their chair.

PHIL: Hey Nancy.

AARON: What up?

PANEL THREE.

Nancy is pulling a chair up to the table and sitting down.

NANCY: Ya know… Not shit really. Just grabbin’ some coffee before work.

PHIL (DISEMBODIED): Ah work sucks. Aaron, you don’t have to worry about that though do you?

PAGE SEVEN.

PANEL ONE.

The shot is of Aaron sneering at Phil.

AARON: Maaan, fuck that.

NANCY (DISEMBODIED): What happened?

PANEL TWO.

Phil is pointing at Aaron and leaning towards Nancy, laughing. Aaron is off to the side.

PHIL: Someone didn’t hear their alarm clock this morning.

AARON: Whatever man. I don’t care.

NANCY: So they fired you?

AARON: Yeah. But it’s cool. I could probably get my job back at the movie theater.

PANEL THREE.

Nancy is leaning back in her chair.

NANCY: You could always come work with me.

PHIL (DISEMBODIED): Or go back to school.

PANEL FOUR.

Aaron is grabbing another cigarette. Phil and Nancy are looking at him.

AARON: Maybe I’ll just skip town for a while. You wanna come with me, Nancy?

NANCY: Where do you think you’ll go?

(CONTINUED)

PHIL: Not too far. You gotta have a little flow to be a travelin’ man.

PANEL FIVE.

Aaron is standing up. Phil and Nancy look up at him.

AARON: I don’t know. I’ll hitch-hike, Phil. Let’s see what Benson’s up to.

PAGE EIGHT.

SPLASH PAGE.

Aaron and Phil are walking in the parking lot of the coffee shop. The shot should be from the ground (near the outdoor table and chairs) look out to the lot. Only Aaron and Phil’s legs should be shown.

bloggity blog blog. the return

The semester is ova! Still don't know what to do. I climbed 23 trees today in a P-Coat and a bad attitude. Then I invented the urinal cake and bolt action door knob. O many months a... a... well, a. I'm thinking about making coffee. I drank a pot while I climbed 23 trees today and spit a bunch. Jeez, whatdoya gotsta do ta-getta... getta... well, yeah. That's kinda what I thought.

'poijsd;fklajsdf;ajknc;qjerncnf;adjf

School's nearly over. Forever.... Naw, I'll go back. Maybe. A weird thing happened to be last month and I've been thinking about it since then. I realized that I've been in school for 20 years straight without a single year off. And now in two weeks I'll be done. It's weird. I kinda wish I wasn't done. I guess I got Peter Pan complex because I really don't wanna get a "real job" and do all that shit. I'm really not feelin' that Idea. But I don't know what else to do. Wait! I just hit me. I'm going to burn my Social Security Card, move to the woods and build a house out of mud.

I Imagine She Said Carefully - Topic: Jane Toppan

I IMAGINE SHE SAID CAREFULLY

It is 2:00 a.m. Yes, we are in Boston

Just one year past a new century-

1901.

Nurse Toppan prepares a dose

For Mr. Davis

Who waits restlessly under blankets

And fear.

She walks through Davis’ darken rooms

Blowing out each candle of every one before

She goes

Then in the last room where Davis lays

quiet and alone

“are we ready for a nightly sip?” (I imagine she said

carefully) not thinking about his heart

And gathers a syringe from the medical bag given to

Her at Cambridge and

Fills the needle full. Morphine, perhaps a touch of

Strychnine

Davis’ teeth clinch when the poison plunges

his veins and his breathing accelerates

and his mouth dries and his eyes close.

and Nurse Toppan softly unzips her white coat

with stains and removes her black shoes with dirt.

She stands over Davis only for a moment

then pulls the sheets back from Davis’ back

(He might have known and not cared, he might have

Read the newspapers and not recognized Nurse Toppan)

he knows her in his last moments with poisonous pleasure

in his tired veins; she slips innocently next to him, presses

against his body with her arms around his chest. she holds

him tightly and whispers “now, stop breathing”

Second Draft

FEVER TRIP

-To Günter (Who was a Doggie)

My spinning brain matter aches,

My eyes following the

Green, blue and pink, dancing wildly,

From electric candles against white walls.

I know now it was you, Mr. Mosquito,

Who put this fever in me.

Wet and afraid of the next

Degree rising higher, warmer.

The lids of my eyes fall,

Landing in a familiar, confusion

Where fluorescent lights shine brighter,

And the comfort of home has changed.

On that very bed, where my eyes

Clasped hard and the fear took me, I feel the

Slimy claws, fishing below.

The slick slime finds my firm back

Ripping through its bedded ceiling

And my last defender.

“O please, O please, aren’t you home

From breakfast, yet, to save me?”

Cries made, with the breaking of

Fingernails on hard wood flooring. Then I

Feel the slime for the first time.

Wrapping its suction cupped fingers on my feet.

Deep to the dark, the slime claws pull,

As I run out of flooring to hopelessly clutch-

I hear the hope of bouncing bells,

Like the one’s on my Jessie’s neck, which

She kept, until worms ate her, too. I know

How you felt, now! But, like me, all Jessie

Did was watch.

And let the worm break bone and eat flesh.

“Go in peace, brother.”

Lids crack, letting in the faintest light, to my eyes.

Not the green, blue and pink, of before, but

Bright light, like white heat on my face.

First Draft

FEVER TRIP

-To Günter (Who was a Doggie)

My spinning brain matter aches,

As my eyes follow the

Green, blue and pink, dancing wildly,

From electric candles against white walls.

I know now it was you, Mr. Mosquito,

Who put this evil on me.

Wet and afraid of the next

Degree rising higher, warmer.

The lids of my eyes fall,

Landing in a familiar, confusion

Where electric lights shine brighter,

And the comfort of home has changed.

On that very bed, where my eyes

Clasp hard and the fear took me, I feel the

Slimy claws, fishing and feeling, below.

The slick slime finds my firm back

Ripping through its bedded ceiling

And my last defender.

“O please, O please, aren’t you home

From breakfast to save me, yet?” Cries made,

And only matched by the breaking of

Fingernails on hard wood flooring. Then I

Felt the slime for the first time.

Wrapping its suction cupped fingers on my feet.

Deep to the dark the slime claw pulled,

As I run out of flooring to hopelessly clutch.

But then I hear the hope of bouncing bells,

Like the one’s on my Jessie’s neck, which

She kept, until worms ate her, too. I know

How you felt, now! But, like me, all Jessie

Did was watch.

And let the worm break bone and eat flesh.

“Go in peace, brother.”

Lids crack, letting in the faintest light, to my eye.

Not the green, blue and pink, of before, but

White light, like white heat on my face.

Part of ACT 1 in the Sunny Script

ACT 1

INT. PADDY’S PUB – DAY

Mac is standing up at the bar, where Dennis and Charlie are seating facing Mac.

MAC

I say the girls oughta be knockouts.

I mean really sexy.

DENNIS

You said it. Nothing but blonde-

bombshells, with huge knockers.

CHARLIE

Yeah, definitely. But maybe we should

get a smart girl or two, ya know.

Mac and Dennis look confused.

MAC

Why would we want a smart girl?

CHARLIE

Well, I was thinkin’, if some of

the girls aren’t whores, then maybe

the show will be more interesting.

DENNIS

The less brains the better.

FRANK burst into Paddy’s and heads behind the bar.

FRANK

Where the hell’s Dee’s computer?

The gang looks up to see what is happening.

MAC

How should we know, Frank!

DENNIS

Yeah, besides, we’re a little busy

here, Frank.

FRANK

I gotta find that damn computer.

CHARLIE

What’s the big deal, dude?

FRANK

I’m buyin’ a Russian whore off the

Internet and I need Dee’s computer.

The gang LAUGHS at Frank.

DENNIS

Why on earth would you want a mail-

order bride?

MAC

Aren’t you always talking about how

much you hate the Russians?

Frank stops looking around and address the gang.

FRANK

Yeah, I do.

Frank smiles devilishly and motions with his hands.

FRANK (CONT’D)

But what better way to stick it to

those Commy bastards, than to stick it

to one of their daughters?

Mac and Charlie nod. Dennis looks disgusted.

CHARLIE

When you’re right, you’re right.

DENNIS

You and Dee are unbelievable.

Nothing you’re saying is making

sense, Frank. The Cold War ended

like twenty years ago, the Russians

are our allies, and you can’t even

use a computer.

LIAM MCPOYLE (O.S.)

Hey man. Computers are getting

LIAM MCPOYLE (CONT’D) (O.S)

easier. He’ll figure it out.

The gang turns to see who is talking and find RYAN and LIAM MCPOYLE sitting in a booth, behind their laptop. Dennis drops his head.

DENNIS

Oh, goddamn it. Who let McPoyles in

the bar?

CHARLIE

Man, those guys are complete freaks.

FRANK

Well get them the hell outta here.

RYAN MCPOYLE

We’re right here. We can hear you

saying that.

Mac puffs out his chest and raises his fist in the air.

MAC

Then hear this. You and your circus

freak brother are banished from Paddy’s.

LIAM MCPOYLE

Hey. It’s all good. Chillax.

Charlie gets upset, SLAMS his fist on the bar, and SHOUTS.

CHARLIE

Get out of here, dude. Get outta the bar.

Dennis restrains Charlie.

DENNIS

You boys better split before we let

the dogs loose.

The McPoyles get up and head for the door, turning around before they leave.

LIAM MCPOYLE

It’s a shame we can’t be friends.

Frank points to the door.

FRANK

Scram.

The McPoyles walk out.

CHARLIE

Oh my god, I hate those guys. Did

you smell them?

MAC

Yeah, it was indescribably gross.

Frank goes to the back office.

FRANK

I’m gonna look for the computer

in here.

DENNIS

It’s like they bathe in milk and

each others sweat.

It's Alway Sunny In Philadelphia - Teaser

COLD OPEN

BLACK SCREEN

TITLE: 10:45 A.M.

TITLE: On A Friday

TITLE: Philadelphia, PA

OVER TITLES, WE HEAR:

CHARLIE (V.O.)

Seriously man, I really don’t care

about her anymore.

DENNIS (V.O.)

You’re so full of shit, Charlie.

CHARLIE (V.O.)

What are you talking about, dude?

INT. PADDY’S PUB – DAY

CHARLIE, MAC and DENNIS are sitting at the bar. DEE is behind the bar on her laptop, which is on the bar.

DENNIS

There’s no way in hell you’re

expecting us to believe that you

never want to see the Waitress

again.

Mac squints and shrugs his shoulders.

MAC

Yeah, bro. You’ve been obsessing

over her for years.

Charlie holds his arms up, because he is confused.

CHARLIE

Well look, maybe I’m just tired of

her, okay, I mean she isn’t that

nice when you think about it.

DENNIS

That’s never stopped you before.

CHARLIE

I told her how I feel and tried

doing nice things fore her, but, you

know, she just craps on my heart, man.

MAC

Well, you have gone about it a bit

aggressively.

Charlie turns to Mac and is defensive.

CHARLIE

Aggressively? What are you talking

about, dude?

Dennis shuffles.

DENNIS

Well, Charlie, I think what Mac is

trying to say is that all the stalking

and late night calls from the emergency

room is creepy. And kinda sad.

Charlie waves his hand at Dennis.

CHARLIE

That’s bullshit, man.

MAC

Charlie, don’t you think Dennis has

a point here?

Dee looks up from her computer with a big smile on her face.

DEE

Oh my god, you guys, that casting

director for that T.V. dating show

just emailed me back.

CHARLIE

Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I was just

trying to show her what a passionate

person I am.

MAC

By bugging her apartment with your

tape recorder from junior high that

you stuffed in one of those plastic

rocks, so you could hear everything

she does?

Mac holds one finger up to his ear, as if he hand an ear piece in.

DEE

You guys.

CHARLIE

No. Look, I put the tape recorder

in the rock, to disguise it, you

know, so that way…

Dennis interrupts.

DENNIS

Weird, dude.

Dee is still looking up from her computer, and squints.

DEE

You guys.

MAC

Besides, Charlie, you couldn’t have

ever gotten the Waitress because you

don’t know shit about women.

CHARLIE

Screw you guys, okay.

Dee SLAMS both her hands on the bar.

DEE

Seriously, you guys, this is really

important.

Mac leans back on his stool, then throws in body forward and rest his head on the bar.

MAC

Goddamn it, Dee, what could be so

MAC (CONT’D)

important?

Dee takes a step back and crosses her arms.

DEE

I just wanted to tell, you guys,

that casting director from the T.V.

show emailed me back, and I’m really

excited. It says to meet at the

Marriott in downtown tonight. This

could be my big break.

DENNIS

Great.

Mac takes a drink from his beer mug and SLAMS it on the bar, and leans forward to get in Dee’s face.

MAC

Awesome, Dee. Let us know when this

blows up in your face.

Mac leans back down and gives Dennis a high-five.

DEE

Oh come on. Every time something

good happens to me, nobody cares.

CHARLIE

No, good for you, Dee.

DEE

(unsure)

Thanks, Charlie.

Dennis SCOFFS.

MAC

What kinda show is this?

DEE

It’s one of those dating shows,

where a washed up celebrity gets to

pick from like twenty girls to be his

love, or whatever. They put all

the girls in a nice house with all

DEE (CONT’D)

you can drink and plenty of camera

exposure.

MAC

Who’s the celebrity?

DEE

Scott Baio.

Dennis WINCES and looks annoyed.

DENNIS

Scott Baio? The Happy Days guy?

Isn’t he like 50?

Dee points at Dennis.

DEE

That’s not the point. The point is

I don’t have to win, all I gotta do

is get in front of that camera. Then

some big name director will cast me

in a major motion picture.

The gang pauses, looks at one another and LAUGHS at Dee.

DENNIS

You… you really think that will

happen?

CHARLIE

Yeah, Dee, there’s probably more to

it then that.

Mac points at Dennis and Charlie, as if he were instructing them.

MAC

Well, if said director is shooting

a movie about the life and times of

Big Bird, then maybe she’ll have a

chance.

Charlie and Dennis nod.

DENNIS

Ah, you’re right, I didn’t even

think of that.

CHARLIE

Yeah, yeah, with the large nose and

wing-like arms. It could work.

DENNIS

And look at your hair, Dee. Are you

trying to look like a parrot?

Dee crosses her arms.

DENNIS (CONT’D)

This dating show isn’t going anywhere,

Dee. It’s just going to be like all

the other dating shows. I bet me, Mac,

and Charlie could put on a better show

then the one you’re going to be on.

DEE

Whatever. That’s a stupid idea. We’ll

see what you assholes say when I’m

on the big screen.

Dee packs up her things, while the gang LAUGHS at her.

DEE (CONT’D)

Later, bitches.

Dee SLAMS the door behind her.

END OF TEASER

Villanelle

MY DEAR SWEET BROTHER, HATE

My dear sweet brother, hate

Burned by bailed figurines of your younger days;

I sing sweet words, so not to relate.

O the first, was fueled to fornicate

As much as pleased, with no way to raise

My dear sweet brother, hate.

He came, then went, aimed to complicate

An old wife, with a new; in many ways

I sing sweet words, so not to relate.

And then another, who wouldn’t hesitate

The slick headed man came in like a blaze

My dear sweet brother, hate.

Later to say “No way to communicate”

And like the first, saw you at a young phase;

Icing, sweet words, so not to relate.

Now we look old, no time to procrastinate

At dawn, she’ll be born, and the past in a haze.

My dear sweet brother, relate!

I sing sweet words, so not to hate.

bloggity blog blog.

The sunny script is coming along. Need to find a more solid direction. Frank. Big bag. Of sex toys. All I'm saying. Gross. But it'll be on the episode. Cool. The album is coming out soon. Hopefully. I've been putting the cases together, here and there. ok. bye.

Halloweeeeeen...

...it was fun. But not the reason for blogging. I got up this morning, made some coffee, had a smoke and opened up my email. I only had one today, from the Sam's Dot Publishing Company, saying they are accepting my poem "Stained Glass" for the Spring 2010 edition. I'm pretty excited, but more in a state of disbelief. Wow. I guess.

Fever Trippin' (Poem Verson - 1st draft)

Laying down looking up

at white walls splashed with

colors of electric candles

while my spinning brain matter aches.

Reaching from bed frames

four, five, six kraken fingers

dart and dash, upwards and downwards

The fear. The fear made flesh lids

cover my red eyes.

Now open again

white walls.

Cries escape me, with little else to do

“Won’t you help?”

as wet, slim crawls me.

Fever Trippin'

When I was 18 years old, I was bitten by a mosquito and develop the West Nile virus. I had the virus for nearly two weeks, during which, my life seemed to turn upside down. Bed-ridden, I was unable to go to school, see friends or go out doors. The virus spread quickly after blood sucking bug, rested on my right shoulder, during a weekend at Lake Eufaula. By the time I had gotten home, the fever had begun to set it.

Hours later, my skin was crawling, my head was pounding and my body heat had jumped to 104 degrees. Sweating and scared, I took to my bed. At the time, I wasn’t aware that the viral invasion was the cause of my ever-inflaming lymph glands and the dizzy, spinning feeling that clouded my head. Out of pure exhaustion, I was finally able to fall asleep, yet my fever was still going strong.

The dream was vivid. I was at home, but the house didn’t look like the one I had grown up in. The furniture was moved out of place, heavy dark drapes blocked the windows and doors and music was constantly in the background; I couldn’t recognize the music was. Colors began to appear all around me and at first I thought I was in a good place, a peaceful one, without fear. My house had turned into a Christmas lights display. Dancing all around were the brightest greens, purples, blues, reds, and yellows. I felt warm and tingly inside. This feeling wouldn’t last long. I began to feel like something was closing in on me, like I was being hunted.

In the dream, I laid down on my bed, where I thought I would feel safe and closed my eyes. When I opened them again four or five large octopus tentacles were hovering over me, in what looked like an attack position. When I tried to get off my bed, the tentacles grabbed at me, which is when I noticed they were coming from underneath the bed. Just as I had gotten to the bedroom door, one of them took hold of my ankle and started pulling me under the bed. I screamed loud, as loud as I could. My dog was the only one who answered my cries for help.

Jesse was a Boston terrier for eleven years before we had to put him down, because little worms were eating her heart. She walked in my room, just as the monster octopus or whatever was sucking me beneath my bed, and simply stood and watched. The strangest part of the dream was Jesse’s face, which wasn’t her face. Her body was the same, but the face was Leonard Nimoy’s. Jesse stood there as I was being eaten alive by a giant worm, octopus monster. The last thing I saw before waking up was Jesse holding up one paw giving me the Vulcan salute.

I woke up a day and a half later. My wild fever dream lasted somewhere in the neighborhood of fourteen hours.