LieJinx.Com
Screenplay by Michael Masley with Mihai Manoliu Writer’s Guild Registration #:
862879
The Emperor’s New Nose
“Big Brother Will Never Get Over
It…”
“Dr. Strangelove meets Bulworth in Brazil for Three Days of
the Condor” Terms VSP………… Virtual Streaming Polygraph SAD………… Significant Attempted Deception PM………….. People’s Monitor “…It’ll be everywhere,
downloadable from anywhere…like a search engine” (setup to scene) Preemptive Damage
control: WELSTON WORSCHACH--President’s Chief of Staff &
Senior Aide RILEY NASHER hunker down & out after receiving unreleased demo
video of LieJinx download. The tape was
served by “High Jinks Felta Force” – an ‘elite’ cadre within “Flesh &
Blood”, founded at MIT during the last of the Reagan years as a “Special Cultural Ops” counterpart to the notoriously
secret “Skull & Bones” at Yale.
After two charter members of “Flesh & Blood” came into vast personal
fortunes (one software, another media) “F&B” was bankrolled into an
extraordinarily resourceful “problem generator” for perceived Abusers of Public
Trust. Not aligned with any Party, it’s
MO is NNVHB (No Non-Violent Holds Barred) it embraces all “progressive”
political affiliations, including women and minorities. There are no known Republicans or
Conservatives in the ranks, owing to mutually contemptuous political/cultural
agenda. But the prospect of
double-agency is an active concern. Skull & Bones is spooked by the means of
‘delivery’, as the Tape wound up
“served” at a private dinner on a covered silver platter where a side-dish
should have been, surrounded by
numerous brands of ketchup packets & a note: “Choice of Vegetable” and “Food for Thought: a new lowfat recipe
for the Trough… bon appetit” : ‘Deep Note’ --
Flesh & Blood First Again!
We’re Life. You’re Death………By Definition! “P.S. Please Face the Web
Live! just lift your snouts to the Sausage Cam in the hanging plant.” (the
digicam was elsewhere, recording their collective glare & “convulsive,
outraged ascent” from 19 half-eaten meals they’d ultimately abandon—one took a chair & swung pinata style as
hotel brass was summoned with withering indignation…the scene below is day 2
of the ruined 3-day-weekend. How or when to inform the President has been
discussed but not decided)… (scene) A 2.7 test-rocked the room, clinking wine glasses in
the cabinet. White House Chief of
Staff, member in Weapons-grade standing of Skull & Bones WELSTON
WORSCHACH--- stood to raise his glass
that much higher, shifted fire canceling a stamp of sunset, gorgon in the bronze belly of brandy …”well! Dice &
Tea-leaves! As the Spirit moves! so let the Earth shake! to the Emperor’s New Skeleton! in the West Wing closet, (ask now & it
shall be given you) a side of
Shoulderchips with that sir, something to drink? In fact YES twice thank you…to the Matador’s Ghost! and the
OttaBodyPolitic experience at hand…you experienced, Riley? what’s the matter…Right…your’re not from
quake country are ya? Shit, I’m
guessing a 2.2. We throw ‘em back
forgotten under 5. A little tonguewet
behind the ear, a sweet nothing ‘peck
& whisper’ from terra firma, yep,
it’s when you’re on all fours, Riley,
erectus deconstructed, doggie-style, THAT’s how ya lose your quake-cherry, farm
boy…” “Well, I suppose 30 floors up
inflates the effect …and for the record
asshole I wasn’t scared. I was just
payin’ attention. Heads up.” NASHER might have tossed salt over his
shoulder, but instead intercepted the last of his drink and stared at the fire
without another word, silence punctuated by the crunching of ice. One, maybe two minutes drift by unattended. “Good for you, Riley…finally
payin’ attention,” Worschach ventured it like a guarded affirmation. Another brief tremor, smaller than the
first. One clink of a glass behind oak
& brass, but the pause jars & the recued video whirs into self-playback. Neither moves for
the remote. The now-all-too-familiar
sequence: Reporter: “Sir, again to the
followup, having said you “hardly know the man”--
given what’s come to light the past two weeks, could you explain What
You Meant By That?” President: “well…there’s no
‘gotcha’ here, exactly how it is is how
I said, and what I meant to say…look, I’m not, I’m not one to mince the words,
okay? The Man in Question, let me repeat, was not, is not, known by me as,
like, you know a good friend (SADflash)…[close-up of face, pixillated
blur, momentary but vivid skull,
refleshing back to President “Pinnochiated”—2 extra inches of nose, straight
out, photorealtime rendered by hi-crunch ‘game engine’ in 1.5 seconds, then
return to DTV + live BWC (BroadbandWebCast)…] Freeze image. WORSCHACH : “Wag the Dog”
E-style. Mad Sacred Cash Cow in the
works, Insult to injury. Of
course. Everything we say History can
and will use against us! Everything we
do, it’s…, it’s radioactive limelight, inside-out, we’re gonna burn in it. Remember that time at the Grove? His Honor’s Moon, as it’s now known. That’s right, you only heard about it. He about keeled when Radula faked that
webpage, you know about that, right? -
said it was floatin’ like the Hindenburg in public cyberspace all day!
It’s like THAT, only real
& from here out, no end in sight.
We’re the first Apex of Power to have to face whatever it’ll wind up
meaning. Unless We Can Stop It. Yes!
you see, Riley, an Edgy
Cyberthriller. What won’t Conservatives Do to Stop This Thing! Is murder, is mayhem off the table? Well… Assume the position. Lights, merchandising, Camera, Action figure, Riley, How WON’T this be “In Theaters Everywhere”,
huh? Let’s hear your pitch, farm boy.
Come on, let’s see—what Big Fish in the Holly-lib stinktank, Robert
Redford…Warren Beatty (that Reds & Bullsworth whackjob!) Christ, any of
‘em, Spielberg, that Slick Willie Home Slice! Wouldn’t he do it in a heartbeat.
Reamworks. Pitch it to
REAMworks, Riley, say… your life depends on it, the Big Bad Oilygarchs
have…multinationaled the last shred of Health Care Right Out From Under your
Family of 4.5, this is your Only Shot at that, that BRAIN transplant you’ll never have another thought without…Tinman,
was that the one?” “Schuuaa… You’re twisted…&
drunk to boot. YOU pitch it, I’ll, how
to say, “catch up”. NASHER pours
another & sits back down, moving fresh chaw-pebbles of ice back & forth, soundbiting teeth &
tongue…tongue-in-teeth… “Okay…okay…come to Papa…big—BIG
PICTURE, get it! got it? Good.
President measured on DTV, O yes, image to a hair, as if to the manner
borne! Managed, nothing out of place! Mind! snug around center of gravity &
it shows, but in CYBerspace…ah, uh-oh, it’s, it’s a bad image-to-a-hair-day…the
Last of the Big Three Debates, election or reelection hangs in the balance, a
tight race, wheels there’s no more time or grease for, shrieking from both
campaigns, everything smelling like something big burning, but all fumes, no
smoke, then there it is…the
back-breaking straw…PINNOCHIO’S NOSE!…HA.
HAHA. Or HAW HAW. What’s the sound of America laughing,
Riley? Which coast is HE HE? Hell to pay for a bad mix, and the Midwest,
gotta be HEH HEH HEH. Well what was I
THINKING?! Movies don’t use a
laughtrack. That’s for the SHITcom,
AFTER the movie. Right. Hey guys,
no time for high horses, you know you Want This, Sooner than Later Best of
All--&--&-- if I only had a brain op, the Liberal Ooze in Oz wouldn’t
suck my life into the Taxpit to run the Loser’s Gravy Train 24/7. And the Man
behind the Curtain could carry on regardless.
See, perception IS reality.
Tornadoes come & go, but Kansas is forever, Riley. You know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying…” Nasher actually was further by the
minute from “sure!” They both eyed the President’s
frozen image on the monitor, obvious as pregnancy, he was a leader “with
Nose”. The solemn promise of a
C-section Tar Baby, premature broken water running down every cheek in the West
Wing. Worschach took another breath
deep, fourth in a series of seven sighs
before the night would end. “Your Leader’s face in yours,
America, up close & personal.
Downloaded thousands, per second, then millionsfold & counting…Info
Highway Robbery Rubberneckers… vandalizing the power of the Office, stealing
the clout of it, the vital honor of it, Riley do you get this, can you see
where this will go!? MotherFUCKERS!!!…” “Wells, those veins, man, in your
forehead, okay, just a little, try, relax…” “5 years—or less, mark my
words—candidates will watch the DTV monitor, then right next to it, one of
several—like, like search engines, VS what, what, VSP, yes, “Virtual Streaming
Polyjive” …even as they answer The Question they’ll be glued to the “People’s
Monitor”…breaking nosegro, up-to-the-minute!
“Possibly imperfect, but better as time passes: think of it as “Affirmative Action for Truth From
Power in Public Service” that’s their blurb…can you believe it? from the “Flesh & Blood” bastard… “ Nasher stared glumly into
his drink, knowing the futility of resistance.
Both parties accepting his captive audience for an Alpha-rant that would
have to run its course. “SAD“ flashed
on under the Pinnochiated President’s frozen image. “That’s so special, isn’t it? Could it be cuter? Significant, Significant
ATTEMPTED deCEPTION, Oh, yes, HiLARious!!
We’re fainting of laughter in the asiles. Well then of course, “President
Laughs It Off, But How Funny Is It?”—Wall Street Journal… “Presidential Laughingstock in Bull Market? –NY
Times— “Insiders Say President ‘Furious’—Attorney General to Investigate
“Fraudulent” Claims by, LieSphinx, or whatha:
LieJinx” President Spinning as Election
Day Nears, Notes He Wasn’t Sole Victim of VSP ---But Size Matters, Opponents
Say!—takes pollhit, 10 down in three days, in four, fifteen, in a week,
tanking. They all…want a piece, recorded Past, Present, Future…the Press
falling…over itself, unbound, Riley!
Unbound, don’t you see!? From
tail-tucking lapdogs to hellhounds all!
Why the Assholes! They can’t BELIEVE the fucking windfall of it,
they’ll, NEVER let go from here on, they’ll train in, in BRAINgyms, for the
Nose Spike moment, yeah, they, they’ll practice like cops at a firing range, asking
“QUESTIONS” with…attitude, with that Edge that cuts to a cornered
chase…yeah…it’s like…” --WORSCHACH was
Seeing the Headflick of a trilogy in each of which They Would Be the Bad
Guys. “Insult to injury! What a
Shitwave…” NASHER brightens suddenly “But let’s not forget, let’s
not forget! the opposite’ll happen
too! It won’t ever likely be
court-admissible either!…so!” “Riley Riley Riley! Of course not. But it’s
“backed up” like a toilet in a pig’s eye, “fucking Hog Heaven, why it’s a
DIGItal & “suPERIor” version of the stodgy old ‘polygraph’. Ever notice—ever notice how lawyers are only
too happy to let every one know when their clients pass one, huh? Fuck, you
yourself! And if they fail, & it’s
found out, well, you, you Dismiss it out of hand…it’s the COURT OF PUBLIC
OPINION. You know what, here’s what it
is--It’s the Chief Executive himself having
to come out for all to see the New
Spin & Song & Dance of Power, a heartfelt little jig, the halloween shitbag burning on the White
House Steps! the whole world cackling, chortling! soon to realize it’s
coming to them too, it’ll be EVERYWHERE! DOWNLOADED FROM ANYWHERE! Like a, a
search engine…O wait, another bastard-tug on the CashCow Udder, what do you
think, Riley? What’da think the spam
count’ll be, for endless circumvention scams, Oh yes! Everyone just in Case they’re Asked A Certain Question or Two,
sucking down “FudgeFactorTens” brand “voice-candy” and doing, doing various
exotic facemuscle workouts…in that last, lone mirror before lights &
cameras…we should practice, Riley, don’t you think? Beat the curve—I’ll, I’ll broach it at the Grove. Anglobrahmin hiphop! dancing the Bulletdodge
live from the Beltway! on a Burnin BaggaShit!!
MotherFUCKERS! THIS IS THE
PRESIDENCY THIS IS THE WHITE HOUSE THIS IS THE LEADER OF THE FREE WORLD!!! …treefuckinhuggin traitors…we’ll SEE who’s goddamn
‘Cruelty Free’!…Flesh & Blood…”Justifiable High Jinks” they call it!
“Political Performance Art” they call it “Deconstructive Irony” they call it
“No Non-violent-holds barred” they even call it a fucking “Big Picture Business
Plan” like a…another wave of dotcom millionaires is curling over us to break
anew…bankroll the next whiny hatch of Flesh & Bloody ingrates…as if…you
could earn a place…with us…at our level…with something like this, this…fucking,
fucking sickness, lunacy…to be, to have absolutely no…no control of
this…bomination…this but…” NASHER leans in “Me too…I’m a…
spent shell…” “maybe jus…a…umm…flash in the
ointment…what..a fly in the…pan / da zoo…flied wall threw at me & …then
you…then…left…left…Sara…Sara…” (a great grinding gear-shift of a snore, snoring to clear-cut oldgrowth,
slouching toward REMtime, Worschach began to drool the drool of sleep too long
lost in troubled translations, head tilted, glasses lit with reentry,
full-hearth reflection, one long bad dream remaining between him &
thoughtless prenatal suspension…) Riley Nasher,
Senior Aide, finished his Scotch
& swayed out toward his room, muttering “suite…” like a bird in the long
hall, “suite?” …an unwitting political
canary in the Coal Mine, moving the key to help focus his gaze, reconsidering
the night, and the day ahead, “sweet…Mother of God…”
Back to LieJinx
Copyright Ó 2002 Michael Masley “LieJinx.Com” novella LieJinx.com “napkin Trailer” to appear in bio documental Rosevoir Productions
Director Michael Sloan |