Recompression Oh Nein

Jaap Suter - 01 Apr 2009
 
FADE IN:        
            
    EXT. CAMP ELPHINSTONE - DAY
    
                                                     LONG SHOT:

Dew shimmers on the long grass of Elphinstone center field. The sky is blue, the sun is orange, and snow-capped mountains on the horizon give birth to a technicolor rainbow. Calmly grazing underneath stands a unicorn, blissfully unaware that yesteryears’ CHIRPING OF BIRDS is gradually overtaken by SOUNDS OF CRACKERS.

CUT TO:

    INT. UNIDENTIFIED WALL - 11:59 AM
    
                                                      CLOSE UP:

On the wall hangs an old antique Cuckoo clock. It’s large; enormous in fact. It’s one of the early Swiss prototypes, from before its inventor had settled on a species.

                                                    SLOW MOTION:

With great effort, as if it’s the last thing it’ll ever do, the minute hand waves the eleventh hour goodbye, and makes its way to noon.

Sphere Top Sphere Middle Sphere Bottom 

CUT TO:

    INT. PORNGE HEADQUARTERS - NOON
    
                                                  FISH EYE ROOM:

Several people sit and stand around a table, apparently having some kind of meeting. People look stressed.

Suddenly they all stop talking…

The doors of the Cuckoo clock open, and a large platform on wheels emerges. Perched on top sits a lazy hippopotamus, wrapped in a fun fur coat, defiantly orange, arrogantly pink. Taking all the time in the world, the hippo opens its mouth. From deep inside, sounds emerge:

                        HIPPOPOTAMUS

Cuuuuuuuuuuckooooooooooooooooo

Cuuuuuuuuuuckooooooooooooooooo

Cuuuuuuuuuuckooooooooooooooooo

The hippopotamus sighs, and decides its done enough. It lies down as the platform rolls back into the clock and doors close.

CUT TO:

    INT. PORNGE HEADQUARTERS - 12:01 PM
                
    CLOSE UP:
    
                        BRUCE

Goddammit, it’s noon and that lazy Cuckoo won’t even give us twelve cucks and koos?

Bruce sighs…

Space Hippo Space Hippo Space Hippo Space Hippo 

    MEDIUM SHOT:        
             
                        BRUCE

Whatever, let’s stay focused. You were saying?

                        STEPHANIE

I’m going to follow you around as my personal entertainment resource all fucking weekend.

                        BRUCE

Mmmmmmmm… Not bad, not bad at all…

Yes, I definitely like where this is going.

Bruce looks around

                        BRUCE

And where is this going, anybody?

                        FIRST NONDESCRIPT OFFICE DUDE

Recompression, sir!

                        BRUCE

That’s right, Recompression. Okay, eh….. what the fuck day is today?

                        SECOND NONDESCRIPT OFFICE DUDE

Wednesday, sir!

                        BRUCE

Perfect, there might just be enough time left, but wemust act quickly…

How attached is our sales department to this design?

And what about marketing, have they locked in already, or can we shuffle?

Bruce turns to Peter

                        BRUCE

Peter, get Alistair from sales on the phone right now!

Bruce swivels 180 degrees in his chair

                        BRUCE

Taylor?

Taylor - ….

Taylor?…?

Swiveling back…

                        BRUCE

Where the fuck is Taylor?

Standing up, angry, shouting:

                        BRUCE

Goddammit, can one of you screw-heads find Taylor and tell him of the ungodly firestorm of napalm I will rain on his ass if he’s not here within ten minutes?

Frustrated, Bruce sits down, shaking his head.

                        BRUCE

Fuck, what happened to work ethic and being a professional?

Signs Top Signs Middle Signs Bottom

Peter, any word from Alistair how much wiggle room the schedule has?

Bruce turns to woman standing in the back

                        BRUCE

Hey Rebecca darling, can you swing by Home Depot and pick up some extra vowels?

Bruce points to random office guy

                        BRUCE

…and ehm…. You there, with the shirt…

What’s your name again?

Right….. Henry - whatever.

Can you run down and grab a bag of consonants from the basement?

Hurry up, we’ve got work to do.

It’s shuffle time…

Bruce walks over to the whiteboard and grabs a pen.

                        BRUCE

I like the concept people. Nothing wrong with having personal entertainment resources available the entire fucking weekend, but with a minor tweak…

Bruce starts writing on the whiteboard, big bold letters:

                        BRUCE

How about this folks?

Written on the whiteboard we see…

CROSSFADE TO TITLE SCREEN:

Movie Poster