an animation of Thom Yorke from Radiohead doing a commercial for an iBook G4. I am gonna try to track down an English guy to do the voice so we'll have a hilarious sountrack to sync to. Then we draw a slanty eyed cartoon somehow and we're golden.

Dan Boujoulian
Scriptwriting 1
Tuesday, March 31, 1998

SFX: Radiohead 'Fitter, Happier'

JIMBO: Man, turn that down.

(MUSIC FADES DOWN BUT NOT OUT)

BRAD: That is so weird. People controlled, everything about how we lived can be commanded by computers and we wouldn't even know it.

JIMBO: I'm not commanded by anything.

SFX: (flicking of flint on lighter starting slowly and then fast paced)

BRAD: Our entire existance is predefined.

JIMBO: Piece of crap.

SFX of lighter hitting dashboard

BRAD: No, it's true, we could all be commanded by satelliteu

JIMBO: Shut, up, I don't want to hear it, I was talking about the lighter anyway. Like I listen to anything you say. I shouldn't have listened to you anyways, I should have got the Bic instead of the lighter with the naked woman on it.

SFX: Fade in Fitter happer again and Cut after words "an empowered and informed member of society (pragmatism not idealism)"

"Fitter Happier" © 1997 Capitol Records, is a freaky computer voice telling you how to live example "fitter, happier, more productive, comfortable not drinking too much, regular exercise at the gym (3 days a week) getting on better with you associate employee contemporaries" etc. It's really freaky to hear. In the background is very dramatic string instuments orchestrated to drive you into a utopian frenzy. It is found on the Radiohead OK Computer album.

This was written by Mark Samp and I in 1993:

THE UP NORTH STORY

It was probably easily the best and weirdest experience of my life. I couldn't believe it.  She was naked, I was wearing a duck suit, and the dog was anorexic.  Anyways, on with the story.

The night was dark, as most nights are, but I digress.  I was hungry so I
got out of my bed, walked downstairs to the refrigerator for a little bite
to eat if you don't know what I mean.  I stared into the open refrigerator
for about 3 minutes looking for something to eat but alas there was nothing
but ketchup and a couple moldy sardines.  I opted for the bottle.

I went over to the liquor cabinet and found a large bottle of Scotch and
proceeded to go to town. Like most of my ex-girlfriends, the over-warm
liquid tasted bitter yet pretenscious... yet.. it easily went down. I became
queasy, and mistaking the kitchen for a mosh pit, I began to dance. I used
to think that the worst person to be next to in a pit was the smelly preppie
jock, but a jock is no match for the hard surface of the formica. When I
think about it, I can still feel the pain of that head butt. Funny. When
your body is numb, there is a warm fuzzy feeling in one's stomach, but that
didn't matter when I realized the floor was approaching my face at a rather
fast rate. It was then I saw her. Somewhere between the side of counter and
the linoleum floor. Although at the time I couldn't make out a feature on
her body, except for the basic hourglass figure shape and her legs which
seemed to go up to her neck. She was naked wearing nothing but a cock ring.
That still baffles me, but true nonetheless. I guess it didn't much matter
because at this point as you can probably guess, I was fully clothed. Then
it happened and it happened in a big way.  I hit the floor, and it hurt
really bad.  I think she felt the vibrations because the cock ring then fell
off her forehead.  How she had it there I still can't understand, but again
I digress.  She came over to me like a swan gracefully swimming in a pool of
wet tar.  It took her a while, but she made it...eventually.  She bent down
to examine my wounds when I saw that she wasn't a natural brunette, and
either I was excited or it was a tad bit chilly outside, because her nipples
were rock hard.  I decided it was the latter because I was in too much pain
to be excited. Then again, seeing as how I was face first on the kitchen
floor, I guess it's the obvious choice that it was cold to me.  Then I heard
her voice and I couldn't help but think she said something to this effect:
"Did you order the large pepperoni with the side of thighs?" At this point,
I was seeing two beautiful naked women standing in the doorway to my
apartment. I managed to reply to her question with a "I'll take the thighs."
She laughed in a way I've only heard Eddie Murphy laugh, but that didn't
matter because at this point I realized she hadn't been in the doorway for
at least two minutes. So there she was, crotched down before me. At let me
tell you, when there is a woman crotched down before you who's naked there
is only one thing that crosses your mind: But for me, the only thing I could
think of was the Blind Melon song "No Rain" was playing. I quickly jumped up
to change it. I lost my balance and started to fall. She sprang up and
caught me. "Do you need me to spend the night?" she asked. "Not really, but
if you'd like me to, you can stay so I can wax your toes." "What the hell
are you talking about?" she asked almost crossly. "Nothing, nothing at all."
I blurted out. "Well, it looks to me like I should stay the night." she
said. "That'd be nice, thank you very much." I said in a polite gentlemen
like voice as to say the only thing on my mind was the toe waxing, but I had
other things on my mind...LET ME TELL YOU! She walked me up to the upstairs
bathroom where she began to brush my teeth.  "What are you doing this for?"
I said as I spit toothpaste all over her left breast which was now covered
with enough of my presently unused play-do that it could've been used to
fill the gap in the ozone layer. Speaking of lay her, let's get back to the
story, shall we? Unfortunately, at the exact time the look in her eyes said
"Kiss me, stick your tongue down my throat and inch your hand over to my..."
<RING> Fuck. <RING> Fuck. <RING> Maybe the machine will get it. "Hi, you've
reached the home of Massoula Trent, I'm not home right now, but if you care
to leave your credit card number and expiration date, I'll return your call
when I get done with the redhead who's over and covered in whipped cream
sucking cherries." "TRENT! This is your boss! We've searched every inch of
your office looking for the rolling papers. WHERE ARE THEY?" "What's that
all about?" said the chick. "And who's the redhead?" "Umm.. it's nothing..
don't worry about it. And the redhead is my friend's girlfriend, she's a
waitress." "Whose girlfriend?" "His name is Denny." "Oh" "Ok, the important
thing here is that you ask 'why.'" "Why is he named Denny" "Well, otherwise,
people would just call him "hey you" or "hey guy" or something  like that."
"But is there any significance to his name?" "His parents conceived him in a
stall." The name fit him like a condom, he frequents the place often. Mind
you, not like the broken condom being used during his conception, more like
those condoms you wear when you end up going back to the store to buy a
bigger one. Denny was a ladies man. On each night of the week if he didn't
already have a date for that night, he was out getting 5 sometimes 6
numbers.  Of course they were sometimes social security numbers, but that
has nothing to do with this story. Now, where was I?  Oh yeah.  So the pizza
chick, who is now horny as hell and covered in play-dough is now wearing the
cock ring again.  I still don't know how she attaches it to her forehead,
but she's just asking for it.  In fact her exact words were, "Will you have
sex with me? I'm just asking for it." I thought that was weird, but then
again I thought my underwear turning purple in sunlight was weird too. But
that was in another place, another time, and another acid trip. Now it was
Berlin, in 1940. General Steindorfenmikalsteipeinheimer was leading
Shiestbeister to Markdofer for a quick game of Russian polo.  That still
baffles me seeing as how the Germans were on the Axis powers and Russia was
part of the Allies, but this isn't a history class now is it.  Or is it?
<twilight music plays> The German army were mean sons o' bitches, and they
hated to play polo seeing as they had no horses or any balls for that
matter.  So needless to say they were looking forward to looking up Heidi
Himmler's dress which is what she let everybody do after they played a game.
In fact sometimes they would even get pizza delivered to their houses when
they won a game. Which brings me back to present day seeing as how we're
going to get sex from this pizza chick with play-dough boobs. But what else
is new, really? I mean c'mon. My uncles Dan and Mark knew enough about this
subject to write TWO volumes of the "Sex, and other things do with women"
handbook/encyclopedias. So here I am with the German chick with the
play-do'd tits. Well, we didn't make it to the bedroom. I think we made it 3
feet from my door by the time I  started pumping inside her.

"And that's what you think of every night while you're masturbating." "Yeah,
Pat." I said, "that's it." "Shit. I never get that complicated, it's more
like...

And I ventured into his mind while he tells his story. Come on the
highway... past 55... past overdrive... let's travel into Pat's  sex
drive...

It was a dark and gloomy place, yet it still had a warm and gentle feeling
to it.  The walls were red with plaid polka-dots on them.  Which brings me
up to the subject of underwear.  Why does it do this, because Dan and I are
a little bit high right now so we want to talk about underwear and now
dammit.  Yet one more time, I digress. So I have this pair of silk boxers,
they have polka-dots on them and sometimes cheese whiz, but that's only when
I eat Ritz Crackers. <Nabisco jingle plays in background>  So the thing is
that when you wash the boxers, the color runs hence making it the same color
as the background throughout. Oh, yeah.. Pat's masturbation preference...
 

There I was. Watching people log on Aaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugggghhhhhh. But this
time was different. This time a Niki Taylorish chick was sitting on my bed.
She was wearing nothing but a STuSSY hat. Her long blonde hair came down
past her shoulders. Her sky blue eyes looked at me only in the way that Dan
looks at any cheerleader with two legs, and she had a laptop laying and a
place that just wasn't flat. Pat dove for it.  The laptop was now in his
reach.  He could extract it from above her thighs, and make a break for it.
He put one hand on her left pinky toe and his other on the laptop. As much
as the pinky toe thing excited her and turned her on, she dragged her
thoughts away from it and blurted out a hearty, "Not so fast little camper,
I'm sending you to jail where you'll meet a really nice man called Mike
Tyson who likes little boys about your age. Pat just said, "You're not going
to get me this time bitch." and he grabbed the laptop and kissed her goodbye
on his way out to work at the NASA Do it Yourself store to buy a part to
build his new rocket which would take him to the real climax in this story.
Now it was another place, another planet, another acid trip. Now it was
Berlin, in 1940. General Livinculurinheimer was leading Shiestbeister to
Markdofer for a quick game of Russian polo.  That still baffles me seeing as
how the Germans were on the Axis powers and Russia was part of the Allies,
but this isn't a history class now is it. Or is it? <twilight music plays>
Deja Vu is weird, eh? The German army were mean sons o' bitches, and they
hated to play polo seeing as they had no horses or any balls for that
matter.  So needless to say they were looking forward to looking up Heidi
Himmler's dress which is what she let everybody do after they played a game.
In fact sometimes they would even get pizza delivered to their houses when
they won a game. Then they would skank all night. Which brings me back to
present day. He arrived on Mars with Dave Kirchgessner. We walked for what
seemed like hours before we realized that there was the most beautiful
creature I had ever seen on that particular planet. We were immediately
attracted. Since Dave is really hot she went for him. Leaving me, of course,
with her best friend Shann-N. She said what translated into "HELL-O!" and
was on top of me."

"Cool, eh?" "Yes, hoser." "Ok, Dan. What about you." "Umm.. well,it's not
that exciting really. I wait  until dark, or  sometimes afternoon, or even
morning. Then, when the mood strikes. I just for it." "You don't think of
anything?" "Well..."

There I am, 69ing with a good friend of mine. And then he says to me..."

"Dan, stop." "That was one of the most incredible blow-jobs I've ever had,
Dan." "Dan, stop." "Thanks, man. It's fun, though." "Dan. Stop. This isn't a
homosexual story, ok? Will you fucking stop it, I don't want you packing
fudge with some fag." "Ok, Mark.. chill." "And stop looking at me like
that." "Ok.. can I fucking go on..." "Stop playing with yourself." "It
itches" <Mark goes into a weird laughing state.>
 

Ok. This incredibly beautiful blonde walks in. She's got green eyes that
seem to go into infinity when you stare at them. Wait. I think Liz has Brown
eyes.. fuck it's been weeks since  I've seen her.. I can't believe I don't
remember.. shit.. Anyway... let's just get her out of my mind. Like I can't
stop thinking of her.. ARGH.. At least Mark isn't here this second to make
fun of me for being in love with someone I can never have. <cue NiN music>
Maybe I'll continue what I started writing at Marks Grandma's now. Lemme
find that paper with the beginning first tho.

The rain beats down upon me. Washing away the tears. Mixing in with the
blood. I can't feel the cut anymore, the cold air has long since made half
my body numb. Yet, I can still taste the salty remains of the tears you shed
when we were last together. "Say it again," you pled. "I want to hear you
say it again." "I love you," I shouted, as you seemed to cringe away from
the volume of my booming voice." "I love you, and  I'll never let anyone
hurt you ever again." It seems like it was last week when that happened. In
reality it was over 6 years. But here she was, standing in front of me. Her
cheeks were red. Her eyes were tired. Her clothes were wrinkled. I think a
sock was missing. None of this mattered, though. What really mattered was
making curing her from whatever was tormenting her, and getting her back on
her feet. As ragged as she looked, I could still see a glimmer of the
beautiful girl I had once been in love with. Once.. Hell.. I still think of
her. What could've been.. but what never had the chance to bloom. "It was
Him again." "Him? Fuck, I didn't know god was in on this." She laughed. I
had not seen her laugh in ages. Her mouth even did the curling thing I'd
always found so cute. "So tell me, beautiful, what's eaten' ya?" "It's
Aerik." "Didn't you dump him on the bus in '86?" "No, that was Todd."
"Didn't you dump him by the shore in '89?" "No, that was Jim." "Didn't you
dump him at my house in   '91?. "No, that was Todd again." "Didn't you  you
dump  him at school in '94?" "No, that was Tom." "Didn't  you  dump him at
Silver Dairy in '92?" "No, that was the other Todd." "Did you ever go out
with this guy before?" "Yeah. in '88, '89, '91,'93, and my senior year,
too." "Oh. Well. What's the problem this time?" "He lost my car keys." "Dump
that bastard." "I wish it were that easy. He's mafia now." "Keep fucking
him." "Really? Wow! That makes so much sense. I knew I could count on you,
Dan." <peck on cheek> She gave me a hug, and headed out the door. It was the
last time I saw her.

But that was another time, another place, another flashback, and another
acid trip.

Now it was Berlin, in 1940. General Kurdtkobainenheimer was leading
Shiestbeister to Markdofer for a quick game of Russian polo.  That still
baffles me seeing as how the Germans were on the Axis powers and Russia was
part of the Allies, but this isn't a history class now is it. Or is it?
<twilight music plays> Deja Vu is weird, eh? The German army were mean sons
o' bitches, and they hated to play polo seeing as they had no horses or any
balls for that matter.  So needless to say they were looking forward to
looking up Heidi Himmler's dress which is what she let everybody do after
they played a game.  In fact sometimes they would even get pizza delivered
to their houses when they won a game. Which brings me to Pizza Hut. I worked
at a Pizza Hut in Florida. But only for eight days. I started on June 11th,
1994. It was the day SHE arrived in the Sunshine State. Her hair was blonde.
I first spotted her as she walked past the lobby.

To Be Continued.