Excerpt from a screenplay that's still in turnaround scams created by the WGA & WGC to favor a gang of writers already recognized as being in the loop of big studios or even, director's preferences -- aka, the Hollywood club.
But ya know how it goes, right? American authors submit their stuff North (by identity theft, superbly devised pen names, faked documents, etc) but *ANY AND ALL* Canadians can't aim South.
So i typed this on WordPlay.com to stir a few brain cells, to prove a point, to shut the snubs, to kick the fourth door down, to provoke reactions...
It was temporarily titled *Deeper Defense*, i must add.
****
Green in two shades.
The sweeping line of a radar scans counter clockwise
while an operator tries to decipher an invader's lingo.
MUTON LEADER (V.O.)
This is the only hint we could gather
about XCom operatives. The programmer
has been typing the bugs in and as far
as i am concerned he never fired a
plasma weapon either. The situation is
critical: Send reinforcements.
One blip, then a second get slowly together while
expanding into static retinas colored like a crisp opal
mineral. A mouth filled with sharp teeth opens wide
underneath and blurs unto the monitoring glass - nearly
a phantomatic reflection.
We are lured back in a reality. Rational & destructive.
INT. XCOM BASE CONTINENTAL-X4 - NIGHT
INSERT TEXT: "11:35PM - 22nd of July 2415 - yet
another dimension."
Loud hissing crackles into the earphones held
with both hands by muscled JAKE VIKTORSKI, 31.
Sweat dripping on a frontal lobe.
JAKE
What the Gaussian snipes!
he throws the device on the console, types
another data set and begins to notice a strange
smell near the door step of a laboratory
littered with papers, half-empty coffee cups,
capacitors and lizard like tissues.
JAMIE PORTLAND slightly older, the office type,
hair in messy binary formulas fightning heat
debits a topo.
JAMIE
Want those rockets for THE
obsolete tanks? Better approve
this latest decrease in the
Arabic consortium budget input or
i resign for the third time this
week.
JAKE
Shouldn't you be asleep already
for tomorrow's pre-launch brief
of Avenger Two by Panda's
squadron?
tension between these giants seem snappy at
best.
JAMIE
Like you'd care seeing me kick
some Ethereal's buts under their
magic hovering robes.
JAKE
Get away. Here, i'll sign
whatever you think pays a war to
win or tie or J - V.
Scribbled the initials with a casted in finger
pen.
JAKE (CONT'D)
Healing.
Alarm buzz tingles their eyelids, barely.
An interceptor is given chase and tries rapid
tangent re-entry at Continental-X4. From the
tabled programmer's earphones.
PILOT (FILTERED)
Damn it Bill, i want 3 O'clock
angles NOW. I'm tailed by a fat
DreadNought biting on inertias.
Do you listen?
Commotion behind her in the corridors, the
trained SOLDIERS scatters to the air-locks and
hangar B. Some boasting rifles the size of
railtrack beams, others juggling brown grenades
numbered or teaser sticks.
JAKE
Well, so long curly. I gotta
fraction a force field on stamina
and a 2.5 seconds gap.
JAMIE
They're dead. Dissected,
captured, questioned, molecules
disrupted until--
folded the bill autographed by psionic attender
XC-10 and leaves perfume on the steel knob. Palm
and hand of a widow gone. Steaming.
EXT. PLANE
It's damaged alright, leaking precious fuel and
swirling smoke trails onto an incoming fast
section of the sky-blue hull controlled by a
group of 15, maybe more, Sectoid base takers
armed with techno prized on researcher's
reports.
PILOT's POV. Up around a mountain side, blinking
lights and satellite scoops indicates a hangar's
hexagonal diaphragm sliding open too slowly.
Youth power TED GRADIENT bullets in anger at
home sweet X4B.
GRADIENT
Knock it once, twice. I don't
care, that doesn't follow me in.
I'll drag them right into cliff
easy day with a gravity pull
Panda himself never dared trying.
encoded to the single letters.
CONTROL ROOM
BILL OPERATOR-1
Loud and clear.
(to the splendid guy overthere)
On my signal. 4-3-2-1-OPS.
EXT.
****
Yep, this was to be alllllmmmmoooosssttt District-X. I wasn't using civilian comments & interviews, i didn't even want to borrow my own option and risk losing it on lies and fraudulent failures; look, we'll pay you. Nope, they got about 5,000+ crap texts about X-Com, fused it in one & the rest went to hell.
Sounds familiar? The Wachowski brothers Matrix (including Reloaded & Revolutions, btw) court claim on similarities of characters & other hints. Which, IIRC... was dismissed.
Yep, back in 2004, firstly drafted, unrepresented by agencies, without minimal contacts, locked up in a pseudo-contract with Astral Media.
When real honesty mattered and was alive.
Go ahead, invade Johannesburg... and while you're at it, you too -- can turn JAMIE into a zombie in her mission to recuperate Alien technologies.
Next thing you know, they'll come and pick a lock on TwoAdverbs.com also.
