Friday, February 10, 2006

(Last one, I promise) Pectorals at dawn: Act I, Scene iii

The scene: Matthew McConahigh, dressed only in a tattered pair of khaki shorts and a dirty t-shirt wrapped around his golden-haired head, is scrambling up to Tom Cruise's fire. Close up of his face reveals murderous concentration, hard-edged savagery and...something else... Gas? Unclear at present.

MM hurls himself over the embankment, much to TC's shock and consternation. TC arranges self in more upright pose, pushing out chest. Crosses arms and examines fingernails to indicate lack of concern for MM's unwelcome presence at his firepit that he, Tom Cruise, built himself, and for which there's no way that he, Tom Freaking Cruise, is going to let that druggy jerk get any credit once they're rescued. No way, nuh-uh.

MM (screaming excitedly): Did you see them??!!! The ships??!!! They must be coming for us by water!!!

TC (forgetting his image and screeching shrilly): Omigod!! Oh. My. God!!! FINALLY! I THOUGHT WE WERE GONNA DIE HERE!!!! (Starts crying softly. Ugly crying.) ...

TC continues: ...Listen, man, this has been hard on both of us.... I'm really sorry about before. I just...I'm just not used to, you know, being confronted. ...Or challenged in any way. ...Or having people who are taller than me not have to hunch down when they're around me...

Yup, he's still talkin':...So, look, once we get back (walks over to MM and places his hands gently on MM's rippling forearms), I promise I will personally help you with this drug thing, okay? (puts hand around back of MM's neck and pulls MM's forehead to his. Inhales MM's strangely appealing natural odor. Man, MM's mom was right. He does smell good. TC remembers moment, wipes tears, flashes winning grin.)

MM (steps back, giggling uncontrollably): Oh MAN! Oh man oh man oh man oh man!!! (Cruise steps back, puzzled look on face.) Did I ever get you GOOD, dawg!!! Shit, did I EVER!!! Hahahahahahahaha (laughs maniacally for several minutes, slaps thighs, dances around, plays pretend bongoes). ..

MM (between gasps for air):...You....(can hardly speak for laughing)'re!!!!! Hahahahaha (new laughing fit ensues).

TC, overcome by murderous rage, grasps stick he has been using to stoke the fire and takes hard swing at MM. Catches MM in the ribs. MM, unused to actual physical pain, or sensation of any kind, is momentarily paralyzed, his remaining brain cells both struggling to understand what has happened. Finally, MM collapses in a heap at TC's feet. TC steps spryly over to MM's quivering form and wraps his hands around MM's neck.

Locked in a death-embrace, the two Hollywood Icons stare ferociously into each other's eyes. Cruise increases the pressure to MM's windpipe. MM struggles furiously, but to no avail. Just as MM's eyes begin to close on this world forever, a look of shock and dismay crosses TC's face. He immediately releases MM's muscular throat.

MM (rolling around making a big show of rubbing his neck): Wh...why didn't you do it?

TC (single tear running down his cheek): I j...just couldn't. I can't kill you.

MM: But why?

TC (sobbing. eyes bulging as he stares up furiously at sky): Because you're the only audience I've got left!!!

Fade to black


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