Blind Billy the pickled egg. Unwitting inventor of the party-snack.

The X-FILES Movie (My rejected script)

THE SCENE:

A group of trees in the middle of Central Park, N.York. Midnight. After an anonymous tip-off Mouldy Spunker and his long-time partner Drama Skully find themselves standing at the foot of one of the larger trees, heads up, using a flashlight to illuminate this most curious of cases...
MOULDY SPUNKER: (Holding the flashlight, stood with his neck arched back as he looks up into the tree.)
“It’s true, there is a cow in this tree!!”
DRAMA SKULLY: (Also looking up.)
“Yes! And if I’m not mistaken, it’s wearing a pair of Ralph Lauren underpants.”
M.S: (As near as he possibly comes to looking slightly giddy.)
“Obviously this proves the existence of captured alien life-forms at the secret military-base. AND, it could be our closest lead yet to the whereabouts of my missing sister Dave!”
D.S: (Turning her head towards Mouldy and looking like she is just about to tell him that there is a scientific explanation for all of this.)
“There is a scientific explanation for all of this.”
COW IN TREE: “Moo!”
M.S: (Looking mildly annoyed with Skully.)
“Can’t you see that’s exactly what they want you to think? Look, I’ve seen plenty of spooky stuff, and this as got to be the spookiest.”
D.S: (Looking all ‘matter-of-fact’.)
“There was a well documented case in Ohio when a domestic cat was found in a tree wearing a Versace cummerbund. Tests proved it was a direct result of excessive pesticide coverage of local agricultural crops.”
M.S: (Annoyed.)
“LOOK! It’s SPOOKY and THAT’S THAT!”
D.S: (Also annoyed.)
“I think you’ll find it’s scientific!”
M.S: (Raising his voice.)
“It’s SPOOKY!”
D.S: (Shouting.)
“It’s SCIENTIFIC!”
M.S: “SPOOKY!”
D.S: “SCIENTIFIC!”
M.S: “SPOOKY!”
D.S: “SCIENTIFIC!”
M.S: “SPOOKY!”
D.S: “SCIENTIFIC!”
M.S: “SPOOKY!”
D.S: “SCIENTIFIC!”
COW IN TREE: “Moo!”
M.S: (Putting his fingers in his ears.)
“It’s SPOOKY! HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING, NOT LISTENING!”
D.S: (Looking furious for a second, then composing herself.)
“ANYWAY! I know something that’s a lot spookier than all of this.”
M.S: (Taking his fingers out of his ears and showing genuine interest in a change of subject.)
“Oh yeah! What’s that then?”
D.S: (Smugly.)
“Someone having a sister called DAVE!”
COW IN TREE: “Moo!”
M.S: (Emotionally wounded.)
“There is NOTHING spooky about having a sister called Dave. It’s purely a scientific attempt on the part of my parent’s at dispelling the masculine preconceptions of people with the name Dave. So THERE!”
COW IN TREE: “Moo!”
D.S: “It’s bloody SPOOKY! That’s what it is!”
M.S: “It’s scientific!”
D.S: “It’s spooky!”
M.S: “Scientific!”
D.S: “Spooky!”
M.S: “Scientific!”
D.S: “Spooky!”
M.S: “Scientific!”
D.S: “Spooky!”
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, that old bloke who wears a raincoat and smokes loads and loads of cigarettes appears.
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Wearing a raincoat and smoking loads of cigarettes.)
“Got a light?”
COW IN TREE: “Yes! But don’t you forget where you got it from! I’m always losing lighters that way! Costs me an arm and a leg it does sometimes!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES:
“Wow!”
D.S: (Shocked.)
“My God! It’s unbelievable!”
M.S: (Really smug.)
“I told you it was SPOOKY!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Turning to face Mouldy.)
“What?”
M.S: (Dismissively.)
“I was talking to my partner!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Shrugging.)
“Oh!”
D.S: (Still in shock, turning towards Mouldy.)
“I...I...I didn’t mean that about your sister!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Turning to face Drama.)
“What?”
D.S: (Dismissively.)
“I was talking to Mouldy!”.
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Shrugging.)
“Aah!”
COW IN TREE: “Antidisestablishmentarianism!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Turning to face cow in tree.)
“Pardon?”
M.S: (Looking annoyed.)
“He said Antidisestablishmentarianism! Are you deaf or something?”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES:
“No!”
D.S: (Also looking annoyed as she turns to face that old bloke who wears a raincoat and smokes loads and loads of cigarettes.)
“For a character with such a long name you don’t really say that much do you?”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Defensively.)
“So?”.
M.S: (Catching Drama’s drift.)
“Yeah! And you seem to feature quite heavily in the last couple of pages yet your character doesn’t seem to be adding very much to the story! Not that there’s much of a story, when I come to think about it!”
THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (Avoiding eye contact.)
“Mmh!”
D.S: (Slowly walking towards that old bloke who wears a raincoat and smokes loads and loads of cigarettes.)
“In fact, when I think about it, it’s just as if you were placed here by an author who was desperately trying to fill some page space and..."

Suddenly Drama is KIDNAPPED!

M.S/ COW IN TREE/ THAT OLD BLOKE WHO WEARS A RAINCOAT AND SMOKES LOADS AND LOADS OF CIGARETTES: (All looking shocked.)
“BLOOMIN HUMMER!” (In unison.)

...TO BE CONTINUED.

THE RISE & FALL OF CAPTAIN-BADGER.


In Sputum’s town square there’s a statue that bares
a face with a tear-jerking story.
As he once was the host of the show with the most,
and he revelled in fortune and glory.
Every weekday at four, children sat on the floor
with their noses an inch from the screen.
And with breath all but baited, they waited and waited
until it was their cue to scream.......
“We can see you Captain-Badger! We can see you Captain-Badger!
Why don’t you come out of the tree?”
And this simple catchphrase was a national craze
in the summer of seventy-three.
As well as TV, there were Christmas LP’s,
and a lucrative range of soft-toys.
This fat badger chap in a nautical-cap
was a huge hit with all girls and boys.

Arnold J. Klute was the man in the suit
who was reaping the harvest of fame.
As his bank-balance grew, his ego did too,
as he played the celebrity game.
Yet try as he might he just could not excite
all the women he met around town.
Though he gave it his best, they were far from impressed
by a kiddie-shows novelty clown.
Arnold took this to heart and it played a huge part
in his growing addiction to scotch.
And his binge’s got worse, till he could not rehearse,
then the whole of his lines he would botch.
Things came to a head, when he lay drunk in bed
on the eve of a charity-show.
And the closer it got to the Captain’s prime-slot,
the producer grew frantic with woe.
As the host Hughie Green did present to the Queen
a fire walking act from Bombay.
Backstage it was manic with last-minute panic
as the seconds were ticking away.
Then a sudden loud crash made everyone dash
to the door round the back of the stage,
as Arnold burst in with a bottle of gin
and a suit that was showing it’s age.
“Thur izz nuthing to fear, BAPTAIN CADGER izz ere!
Now lezz ged thizz show on ver road!”

Arnold’s every word sounded laboured and slurred,
like some strange indecipherable code.
“You have under a minute, find your suit and GET IN IT!”
The angry producer did shout.
Then he quickly departed, as Arnold had farted,
and started to wave it about.

The applause rung aloud as the firewalker bowed
and did exit the stage to the right.
Then the audience cheered as old Hughie appeared
and he said.... “Here’s the STAR OF THE NIGHT!”
The curtain did rise, and everyone's eyes
came to rest on a backdrop of trees.
With the Captain stood there, seeming quite unaware
half his costume had dropped to his knees.
The clapping soon halted as parent’s hands bolted
to cover the eye’s of their youth.
But some children from Goole, on a coach-trip from school,
started chanting the terrible truth.....
“WE CAN SEE YOUR SPADGER, CAPTAIN BADGER!”
Yelled the school-kids all sat near the stage,
as the viewer’s at home jammed the BBC phones
to express their disgust and outrage.
The spotlight was stopped and the curtain then dropped
as the stage-hands ran out from the wings.
They approached him with care as he started to swear
and call them unspeakable things.
“It takess more than six clownss to get thizz badger down!”
Arnold said as he swayed to and fro’.
Then he pulled out a gun, and he started to run,
like a man who had breeze-blocks for toes.
“Quick, take him out!” The producer did shout,
as he ran off to hide in the shower.
But nobody moved, as they did not approve
of being shot-at for five pounds an hour.
As a young French magician made the final incision
while sawing a woman in two,
Arnold entered the stage in a spirit-fuelled rage,
his ‘spadger’ still open to view.
The crowd then fell mute, as the badger did shoot,
and made several holes in the ceiling.
And the viewers at home jammed the BBC phones
to express their disgust and ill-feeling.
The Queen disappeared and the royal-box was cleared
as her bodyguards went through their drill.
And detective Jack Moore was the first on the draw,
and he fired with intention to kill.
As the bullets whizzed by, the badger did cry,
when one got him right in the bot’.

And the viewers at home jammed the BBC phones,
to congratulate Moore on his shot.
With nowhere to run and a wound in the bum
his attention was drawn to the fact,
that the girl sawn in two, could help him pursue
his OWN kind of vanishing act.
It came as a shock to the girl in the box
when the gun was then pressed to her head.
Then he shouted to Moore... “Throw your gun to the floor,
or half of this woman izz DEAD!”
The hostage then cried as the gunmen complied,
and the badger did wheel her offstage.
But her blubbing got worse, till the badger did curse,
and then threatened to shoot in his rage.
Her screaming increased, so the badger then ceased,
and returned to the stage in a rush.
“Her top-half’s too loud!” He said to the crowd,
as the other half-box he did push.
He then made his retreat out into the street
where a large crowd had started to grow,
and much booing begun, as he walked with the gun
aiming straight at his hostage’s toe.
“I’ll blow it away if you get in my way!”
he threatened the heckling mass.
Upon seeing the gun, some started to run,
leaving room for the badger to pass.
He set off down the road with his unwitting load,
on a journey that lasted some miles.
And the crowd followed too, as it grew and it grew,
recruiting new blood all the while.
Over London’s Tower-bridge went the strange pilgrimage,
then everyone froze in their tracks.
As halfway across, Arnold stopped with the box,
and then lifted it onto his back.
He climbed on the rail, and the crowd (turning pale)
realised he was planning to leap.
“My half-friend and I are sssaying goodbye!”
he said as he started to weep.
“And before we both go, I just want you to know
that I’ve alwayss detested young kids!”
His opinion now aired, he then swiftly prepared
to continue his suicide-bid.
Then the badger was shocked when from out of the box
an angry WHOLE woman appeared,
and she punched at his face, till his footing lost place,
and the onlookers heartily cheered.
“So THAT’s how it’s done!” The badger begun,
as into the Thames he did fall.
The woman prevailed, clinging on to the rail,
still a little confused by it all.
Though no body was found, the Police said he’d drowned
and the badger was wrote off as dead.
‘ROYAL-FLASHER KILLED AS AN AUDIENCE THRILLED!’
The paper’s sensationally read.

And so ends this story of misguided glory,
this modern day fable of woe.
Let this cautionary tale be an early reveille
for those with a lust for the show.
And for those resolute in their showbiz pursuit,
take a look at the Klute resumay,
Too wrapped up in the sorrows of all his tomorrows,
he never considered today.

Prince - The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker

Prince - The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker

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