Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Starbucker: camera ham.

Oh, man! This is cool... I've been watching all of my favorite movies over and over again to pass the time in this here house between challenges, so this should be easy! Uh... but which scene?... and from which movie? Oh, durn!

Ok, lemme get into character here...

Picture me in...

A large, domed room. Ten evenly-spaced skylights send their shafts of sunlight down to a unique tiled floor: white and black tiles laid out in a lovely, intricate pattern. Fluke stands at the door and look across the wide room at the altar. There, in the supreme hallowed spot way across the way, is a tiny jeweled figurine, the real objective. Two torches, many years old, are in holders by the door. He takes one down and pretends to light it. He gives his regular torch to his imaginary assistant.

He kneels and uses the unlit end of the torch to reach out and tap a white tile. It is solid. He taps a black tile. He sharply looks toward the wall, and then at the torch and a dart appears! He looks to the wall nearby: there is a recessed hole there.

Fluke hollers,
"Time out!" then jumps up and pretends to be the assistant: "From that hole!"

Then Fluke hollers "Time Out!" then runs back and looks, nods, stands and looks around the sanctuary. The entire room is honey-comed with the same kind of hole.

Fluke (looking and pointing in the direction of where his assistant would be)
: "You wait here."

"Time Out!"

Fluke (back in the assistant's position) "If you insist, senor."

"Time Out!"

Torch in hand, Fluke begins his careful walk across the sanctuary. Stepping only on the white tiles, he almost appears to be doing a martial arts kata. Before each big move he waves the torch in front of him head to toe, looking at the flame. Halfway out, he sees something on the floor and kneels to look at it. A dead bird lies on one of the white tiles. Its body is riddled with little deadly darts. This has great significance and he stands with even greater caution. He waves the torch ahead of him.

"Time Out!"

Fluke then runs back to where the assistant would be standing and watching, wide-eyed and mystified, but he doesn't say a thing.

"Time Out!"

He then gets back in the other position, stepping cautiously until he reaches the altar. The tiny idol looks both fierce and beautiful. It rests on a pedestal of polished stone. Fluke looks the whole set-up over very carefully. From his jacket he takes a small, canvas drawstring bad. He begins filling it with dirt from around the case of the altar. When he has created a weight that he thinks approximates the weight of the idol, he bounces it a couple times in his palm concentrating. It's clear he wants to replace the idol with the bag as smoothly as possible. His hand seems ready to do that once, when he stops, takes a breath and loosens his shoulder muscles. Now he sets himself again. And makes the switch! The idol is now in his hand, the bag on the pedestal. For a long moment it sits there, then the polished stone beneath the bag drops five inches. This sets off an AURAL CHAIN REACTION of steadily increasing volume as some huge mysterious mechanism rumbles into action deep in the temple.

Fluke spins and starts his kata back across the sanctuary at four times the speed.

The sanctuary has begun to rumble and shake in response to the mysterious mechanism. Just as Fluke goes out the door, a rock shakes loose from the wall and rolls onto the tiles floor. Immediately, a noisy torrent of poison darts fills the room.

Fluke rushes over several pieces of furniture to come to the foyer, where he stops on the edge of the carpet.


"Time Out!"

as assistant, now on other side of foyer tile:"No time to argue. Throw me the idol, I throw you the whip."

"Time Out!" and back across the foyer.

Fluke hesitates, eyeing the rumbling walls.


"Time Out!"

as assistant:"You have no choice! Hurry!"

"Time Out!" then back to where he was

Fluke concurs with that assessment. He tosses the idol across the imaginary pit, and dives onto the tile of the foyer...He then makes an awful shrill sound outta the side of his mouth... inconspicuous-like... as if no-one else in the house would realize it's coming from him...

"Time Out!" he hollers as he gets back onto the edge of the carpet...

"Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the Shrieking Eels -- if you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh!"

"Time Out!" Fluke lays back down on the tile, and flails a little...as if treading water, still not far from the carpet. The shrieking sounds are getting louder and more terrifying. Fluke pretends to stay silent, while actually doing the shreiking.

"Time Out!" Fluke gets to the carpet...

"If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you will get such an offer from the Eels." He says with a squinted eye and lispy speech.

Fluke bends forward, looking directly at the camera, then pulls his hair to the side to show something near the crown.


"Look at this: ...St. Paddy's Day in Knocko Nolans, in Boston, where some sunovabitch winged me upside the head with a spittoon."

He then presents his own formidable forearm.

"Wire burn. Trying to stop a back-stay from taking my head off."

He then takes a long pull from a bottle

"Face and head scars come from amateur amusements in the bar room. This love line here... (he bends an ear forward) ...that's from some crazy Frenchie come after me with a knife. I caught him with a good right hand right in the snot locker and laid him amongst the sweetpeas."

He starts rolling up his own dirty pants leg.

"Slammed with a thresher's tail. Look just like somebody caressed me with a nutmeg grater....Wait a minute, young fella. Look. Just look. Don't touch...."

He starts lowering his pants to reveal a place on one hip where the tissue is scarred and irregular.

"...Mako. Fell out of the tail rope and onto the deck. You don't get bitten by one of those bastards but twice -- your first and your last.

"Time Out!" Fluke runs around to a different position, then points to where he just had been, and says, "What's that there?"

"Time Out!" Fluke gets back where he was, and explains, "Tattoo. Had it taken off.'U.S.S Indianapolis.' 1944."

"Time Out!" Fluke goes across the room and shouts incredulously, "You were on the Indianapolis? In '45? Je-bus!!...."

"Time Out!" he then gets back where he was, "Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis. June 29th, 1945, three and a half minutes past midnight, two torpedoes from a Japanese submarine slammed into our side. Two or three. We was still under sealed orders after deliverin' the bomb...the Hiroshima bomb...we was goin' back across the Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn near eleven hundred men went over the side. The life boats was lashed down so tight to make the bomb run we couldn't cut a single one adrift. Not one. And there was no rafts.

None.

That vessel sank in twelve minutes. Yes, that's all she took.

We didn't see the first shark 'til we'd been in the water about an hour. A thirteen-footer near enough. A blue. You measure that by judgin' the dorsal to the tail. Twe didn't know...of course the Captain knew...I guess some officers knew ...was the bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signals was sent. What the men didn't know was that they wouldn't even list us as over-due for a week. Well, I didn't know that -- I wasn't an officer -- just as well perhaps.

So some of us were dead already -- in the water -- just hangin' limp in our lifejackets. And several already bleedin'. And the three hundred or so laying on the bottom of the ocean.

As the light went, the sharks came crusin'. We formed tight groups -- somewhat like squares in an old battle -- You know what I mean -- so that when one come close, the man nearest would yell and shout and pound the water and sometimes it worked and the fish turned away, but other times that shark would seem to look right at a man -- right into his eyes -- and in spite of all shoutin' and poundin' you'd hear that terrible high screamin' and the ocean would go red, then churn up as they ripped him. Then we'd reform our little squares. By the first dawn the sharks had taken more than a hundred. Hard for me to count but more than a hundred. I don't know how many sharks. Maybe a thousand. I do know they averaged six men an hour.

All kinds -- blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.

In the middle of the second day, some of us started to go crazy from the thirst. One fella cried out he saw a river, another claimed he saw a waterfall, some started to drink the ocean and choked on it, and some left our little groups -- our little squares -- and swam off alone lookin' for islands and the sharks always took them right away. It was mainly the young fellas that did that -- the older ones stayed where they was.

That second day -- my life jacket rubbed me raw and that was more blood in the water. Oh my. On Thursday morning I bumped up against a friend of mine -- Herbie Robinson from Cleveland -- a bosun's mate -- it seemed he was asleep but when I reached over to waken him, he bobbed in the water and I saw his body upend because he'd been bitten in half beneath the waist.

Well Chief, so it went on -- bombers high overhead but nobody noticin' us. Yes -- suicides, sharks, and all this goin' crazy and dyin' of thirst.

Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung around and came in low. Yes. He did that. Yes, that pilot saw us.

And early evenin', a big fat PBY come down out of the sky and began the pickup. That was when I was most frightened of all -- while I was waitin' for my turn. Just two and a half hours short of five days and five nights when they got to me and took me up.

Eleven hundred of us went into that ocean -- three hundred and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen hundred and forty five. June the 29th."

(long pause)

In deep voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The red zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only, there is no stopping in the white zone."

High-pitched voice: "The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading and there is no stopping in the red zone."

Deep voice: "The red zone has always been for loading and unloading there is never stopping in a white zone."

High-pitched voice: "Don't tell me which zone is for stopping and which zone is for loading."

Deep voice: "Listen Betty, don't start up with your white zone crap again!"

Fluke then quickly dons a black cloak, and begins cackling, and then speaks in a menacing voice:

"Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Let the hate flow through you."

Fluke primly sits in a chair.

"Good! Your hate has made you powerful. Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side!"

Fluke stands, and slowly begins taking steps toward a lampstand.

"If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed."

Fluke begins making gestures toward the lampshade, as if he's milking a goat, or something.

"Young fool...only now, at the end, do you understand."

Fluke then nudges the lampshade over, then continues the goat milking gestures as it lay, but now he has straightened his fingers a bit.

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the dark side. You have paid the price for your lack of vision."

Fluke then speaks in high-pitched, girly voice out of the side of his mouth, on behalf of the lampshade, supposedly..."Father, pleeeeease. Help me."

He then goes back to the menacing voice:

"Now, young Skywalker...you. will. die."

He then begins writhing, and speaking in another sinister, high-pitched voice:

"Ohhh -- you cursed brat! Look what you've done! I'm melting! Melting! Oh -- what a world -- what a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness!? Ohhh! Look out! Look out! I'm going. Ohhhh! Ohhhhhh...."

He then hops to his feet, and...

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"Ta-DA!"





Fluke bows

19 Comments:

Blogger Lt. Cmdr Oneida said...

*claps* very good, very good

3:35 PM  
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Blogger Vegeta said...

I suppose it's up to me to say it Splog!

9:50 PM  
Blogger Qui-Gon Jinn said...

Wow...
Like, wow...
And with all the brownies, I just had, it flowed together seamlessly, man.
Far out, like, in a big way.
QGJ

9:54 PM  
Blogger Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Excellent, Fluke. Bravo!

So was that movie Indiana Jones and the Lethal Weapon of the Princess Bride Jaws Airplane Jedi?

8:14 AM  
Blogger Vampirella said...

Standing and clapping Oncur (Sp?) Oncur


again again please

8:19 AM  
Blogger A Army Of (Cl)One said...

I thought the assignment was A (implies singular) scene from your favorite movie (hmmm, again singular). I think this is what happens when you eat too many brownies and fall asleep with HBO on.

Nice job though

9:40 AM  
Blogger Shannon said...

Bravo! I was, like, a little confused and stuff, but your acting was awesome Fluke.

5:07 PM  
Blogger JawaJuice said...

…You weren’t acting, were you kid?

Your life is just one long movie trailer, isn’t it?


*Shakes head*

Sad….so sad.









But ya did a great job!!!

6:32 PM  
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Blogger Lt. Cmdr Oneida said...

*ahem* Splog 2!!!!!

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