Sometimes I think the previews are the best part of the whole theatre-going experience; mostly because I think that not only do they show the best parts of the movie, but the movie I make in my head is ever-so-much better than anything Hollywood is going to turn out.
For example:
The scene is a placid street in a small town in West Texas. A nattily-dressed man gets out of a rental car and, carrying a large case, walks up to the front door of Rancho LawDog.
The doorbell is rung, and answered by a man of average height with what looks like a plastic orange rodent stapled to his upper lip.
“Yes?”
“Mr LawDog, I have a proposition for you. May I come in?”
Against his better instincts, LawDog allows the man into his sanctum sanctorum, and even brews a cup of tea.
“Mr LawDog,” says the nattily-dressed man, opening the case to reveal a Black Box With A Big Red Button, “If you press this button two things will happen. The first is that I will give you a million dollars. The second is that a random stranger, someone whom you do not know, will die.”
“Pull the other one, mate, it’s got bells on.”
“I assure you, Mr. LawDog, I am quite serious.”
“You’re going to kill someone who’s a complete and total stranger to me, so that I can have a million dollars.”
“No, Mr. LawDog, you are going to kill a total stranger so that you can have a million dollars.”
“Oh. Did you happen to mention your name?”
“No, Mr. LawDog, that information is not necessary for this transaction to be completed.”
“Sooo … basically, you’re a complete and total stranger?”
“Yes, what does that …”
Two forty-calibre gunshots ring out, and the nattily-dressed man convulses and slides off the sofa to the floor. LawDog pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves the mighty sigh of a man beset by the tribulations of the world, then rises and steps around the coffee table. A third shot rings out. Always pay the insurance.
Keeping the muzzle of his pistol trained upon the corpse in his living room, LawDog weasles his cell-phone out of his pocket and hits speed-dial.
“Tole’s Mule Barn, head jackass speaking.”
“Hey, brother, you wouldn’t happen to have any of that quicklime left, would you?”
“Sure do. Need it?”
“Yeah, and if you could bring a shovel with it, I’ve got a beer for you.”
“Aw, crap. Again?”
“Yeah. Figure we’d stick him under the gardenias.”
“Not unless you moved the Cthulu cultists from last month.”
“Oh. Nuts. Hmm. You got any room in the wife’s herb garden?”
“Nope. Had a pack of Jesuit ninja assassins through Friday evening. One of these days they’re going to realize that this thing is a hammered leaf-spring wired to a broom-handle by a Pakistani blacksmith and then there’s going to be some red faces at the Vatican.”
“I wondered why I kept running over throwing stars with the lawnmower this weekend.” Ruminative pause. “Suppose we could stick him in the rutabaga patch with the mummy.”
“Sounds good … ohh … better double the hole.”
“What? Why?”
“You got a Spooky Henchman lurking in your driveway.”
“What? Hell! I’m up to my elbows in parts here! What sort of of bargain-basement creeps are they minting these days?! Can’t even wait a courteous amount of time …”
“Relax. I’ll get him on the way over. Need anything else?”
“Nah. ‘Preciate it, bro.”
End Movie.
See? Much better than anything Hollywood turns out these days.
LawDog
"Them werewolf things? You just gotta lead 'em a bit more than usual and they'll go down just fine."
Very nice Sir. Very nice indeed.
Too short, the audiences would be pissed.
I was watching one of those horror movies where a couple gets stranded at some motel in a backwater and then terrorized by psycho killers. Only thing I could think about twenty minutes in was "Hmm, with what I usually have in my luggage and on me, I'd have that resolved in plenty of time to get a good night's sleep." Guess that's why people like me don't write screenplays.
Now, Lakeview Terrace I'm putting off watching, because a psycho cop in a place where you can't have your own defensive weapons? That's freaking scary.
Agreed. People don't like paying full price for a 5 minute short.
However, if a certain red-headed Texas lawman were to star in his own film . . .
Two thumbs up.
Four if you figure out a way to make fun of Hannah Montana in it.
Don't be hating on that plastic orange rodent– I'm quite fond of that thing.
"Always pay the insurance."
Yep. "Anchoring round" is your friend, ayup.
Very nice, sir!
El Dee, I like your little movie. It's all Christmassy, 'n makes me feel warm and cuddly.
Make the movie here, my neighbor has a small backhoe. Sort of a Ditch Witch only bigger. He lends it to me.
Gerry N.
Lessee, Lawdog, Farmgirl, Ms.Fatale,Breda, Tam, an' about twenty other gunbloggers, one of which just got out of film school.
I think we got the makin's.
I know I'd pay $7.50.
Sounded good to me. Perfect picture in my head. 'Course, you'd have to do some action flashbacks to flesh it out a bit longer. And I was chuckling and chortling the whole way through reading it.
B Woodman
III-per
Finally, a movie that the man and I could agree on. Let us know when it's released.
So…now you owe us a film in addition to that (Ahem!) somewhat overdue book.
If you just did the book part, I'm sure that one of the gunbloggers would undertake the screenplay-and you'd have editorial veto, of course.
Deal?
Uh, so whatever happened to the rest of that mustache story, Lawdog? (Did I miss it?)
"hammered leaf-spring wired to a broom-handle by a Pakistani blacksmith"
I'm having trouble visualizing it.
Stay safe
Lawdog. Just remember to look for some Pig Farms around Bugscuffle. I'd hate to see you run out of space before the summer blockbusters.
It's the seven-year itch. Literally. About every seven years, the Dog just has to try a moustache again. It's never very successful since it looks like his upper lip grew moss and rusted. Not to mention that it ages him at least ten years. One can only wait until the illness is over…
LawMom
I'd buy the DVD with bonus features.
excellent!
What's this "forty" caliber crap? What is this, some politically-correct big city in Northeastistan?
You obviously FORGOT to put in the obligatory "-five" … that is an oversight that any self-respecting Texan would have caught. That's why you need proof-readers for your screenplay. :>)
Bwahahaha! I go see a movie *maybe* once a year, if that often, but I'd camp out if necessary in order to get a ticket to yours.
I have the camera, you supply the actor, and we'll do it.
you forgot to push the button ,,,,,
Lawmom,
He's just checking to see if he can switch to mother of pear grips for his BBQ gun.
Bob-
Red Ryder original. He'd better not change a damned thing!
LawMom
Hey, give credit to Matt for finally talking him into a 4-bore.
LD, I wish you had been a creative consultant for THE LAST HOUSE ON THE LEFT. The film needed your skills, very badly.
That'd be a great short. Would the full-length feature film follow-up be "The wives had had it, and the yard's out of space. Time to take this fight to the enemy, and stop the creepy henchmen at the source. LD's bringing the law to DC!"?
Snickers…I see an almost "No Country for Old Men"-ness to it…
A remorseless hunter…
Heh…the verification word is a mis-spelled Dable
If you'd consider doing some location work in a Commie hell hole (read: Marxistchusetts) I'll see if I can get the old Steadycam JR to fire up…
Well, 'we' could always make a movie ourselves… 🙂
Re 'stash hijinks. W had a magnificant cookie duster for most of our married life. (Though he was clean shaven – just days out of the Corps – when I met him. And he was clean shaved for our wedding.) Whenever we'd have a marital spat, I could always tell how upset he was with me – he'd trim it brutally and one awful time, he even shaved it all off!
Don't forget the million bucks in the guys pocket… after all he WAS a perfect stranger… he does qualify you know…
LawMon,
You're right Your mustache could be white and it wouldn't justify changing the grips on a Red Ryder
Sorry dog
Is this going to be in the sequel to Larry's Monster Hunter International book?