Friday, February 10, 2006

Pectorals at dawn: Act I, Scene ii

The scene: Convection waves rise from the scorching sand as we return to our beach, late in the afternoon. A lone crab scrambles quickly across the beach. In the distance, we hear the crackle of burning brush. We travel up the beach and into the jungle. At the crest of a large hill overlooking the beach, Tom Cruise has built a massive bonfire in an attempt to signal the fighter jets that are undoubtedly circling the globe in search of the lost duo. After all, they are the World's Sexiest Men. That's, like, above the President.

TC strikes a swaggering pose in front of the fire, admiring his work. Hip jutting, holding a long stick, he frowns darkly.

Voiceover, TC talking to self: I'm alone here. I'm utterly alone. That pot head's brain is so addled by the goof-balls, he doesn't even count as a human companion. (This in reference to Matthew McConahigh, who is presently still passed out on the beach below.)

...He is SO NOT Next Level material.
(Kicks a rock into the fire. Shades eyes and glares angrily at horizon.)

...WHERE are those search and rescue guys. I mean, jokes over folks. Enough is enough. I'm, like, the Most Important Man on Earth. I'm shooting six action films this month, and I have all those interviews booked for Katie's replacement.

(Sighs nostalgically) Katie. Oh, sweet Katie. How I don't miss you. How I don't miss our awkward public kisses and your strange doped-out eyes. How I don't miss you towering over me in the stilettos I expressly forbade you to wear. How I will not miss the hatching of our publicity-spawned bio-baby. (Scratches at ground with stick, smiles warmly.)

...Back to me. How the hell am I going to deal with this McConaughey character?

(Stares intensely into fire, arranges face into look of determination.) Stay strong, Cruise. Remember: you're the man. You. Are. The. Man. NObody's stronger. NObody's tougher. NObody's dreamier. God, I wish I had a mirror right now...

Fade to next scene...


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