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Please meet CrayZHorse. A horse, maybe. But CrayZ? I don't think so. Enjoy!
"THE FODFATHER", an Epic Tale. (Disclaimer: In true DG style I shall now embark on a magnificient journey of imagination and bullshit! DG...this ones for you! Also...I wanted to see what the reaction to this will be before I waste too much time on it! Good or Bad...letg me know!) *DON LAPATKA’S OFFICE (SUMMER 2001)* There is a moment's hesitation, and then the simple words in white lettering: THE FODFATHER While this remains, we hear: "I believe in Hobietopia." Suddenly we are watching, RODGERFAN, a man of sixty, dressed in a black suit, on the verge of great emotion. RODGERFAN: “Hobietopia has made my fortune.” As he speaks, the view imperceptibly begins to loosen. RODGERFAN: “I raised my daughter in the Lapatkan fashion; I gave her ghostnic, but taught her never to dishonor her family. She found a boy friend, not a Lapatkan. She went to the Sucks Board with him, stayed out late. Two months ago he took her for a flaming woody, with another boy friend. They made her post lists and then they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted; she kept her honor. So they beat her like an animal. When I went to the hospital her alt key was broken, her mouse was shattered and held together by wire, and she could not even weep because of the humiliation.” He can barely speak; he is weeping now. RODGERFAN: “I went to the Admin like a good poster. These two boys were arrested and brought to trial. The judge sentenced them to three years in a Dr. Who forum, and suspended the sentence. Suspended sentence! They went free that very day. I stood in the Off Topic forum like a fool, and those bastards, they smiled at me. Then I said to my wife, for Justice, we must go to The Fodfather.” By now, the view is full, and we see Don Lapatka's office at RS. The background is black, and so the forum is dark, and patterned with shadows. We are watching RODGERFAN over the shoulder of DON LAPATKA. ART VANDELAY sits near a small table, examining some recent posts, and BLARX stands impatiently by the window nearest his father, sipping from a glass of wine. We can hear music, and the laughter and voices of many people outside. DON LAPATKA: “RODGERFAN, we know each other for months, but this is the first time you come to me for help. I don't remember the last time you invited me to your board for flame wars...even though our boards have similar backgrounds.” RODGERFAN: “What do you want of me? I'll give you anything you want, but do what I ask!” DON LAPATKA: “And what is that RODGERFAN?” RODGERFAN whispers into the DON's ear. DON LAPATKA: “No. You ask for too much.” RODGERFAN: “I ask for Justice.” DON LAPATKA: “The Admins gave you justice.” RODGERFAN: “An eye for an eye!” DON LAPATKA: “But your daughter is not banned.” RODGERFAN: “Then make them suffer as she suffers. How much shall I pay you?” Both VANDELAY and BLARX react. DON LAPATKA: “You never think to protect yourself with real friends. You think it's enough to be a HobieTopian. All right, the Admin protects you, there are Moderators, so you don't need a friend like me. But now you come to me and say Don Lapatka, you must give me justice. And you don't ask in respect or friendship. And you don't think to call me Fodfather; instead you come to my house on the day my daughter is to be married and you ask me to ban someone...for money.” RODGERFAN: “HobieTopia has been good to me...” DON LAPATKA: “Then take the justice from the Admin, the bitter with the sweet, RODGERFAN. But if you come to me with your friendship, your loyalty, then your enemies become my enemies, and then, believe me, they would fear you...” Slowly, RODGERFAN bows his head and murmurs. RODGERFAN: “Be my friend.” DON LAPATKA: “Good. From me you'll get Justice.” RODGERFAN: “Fodfather.” DON LAPATKA: “Some day, and that day may never come, I would like to call upon you to do me a service in return. *COURTYARD* A high angle of the LAPATKA COURTYARD in bright daylight. There are at least five hundred guests filling the main courtyard and gardens. There is music and laughing and dancing and countless tables covered with food and wine. DON LAPATKA stands at the Gate, flanked on either side by a son: DCASS and BLARX, all dressed in the formal attire of the wedding party. He warmly shakes the hands, squeezes the hands of the friends and guests, pinches the cheeks of the children, and makes them all welcome. They in turn carry with them gallons of homemade wine, cartons of freshly baked bread and pastries, and enormous trays of Lapatkan delicacies. The entire family poses for a family portrait: DON LAPATKA, IGS, BLARX, his wife and their children, ART VANDELAY and his wife; LUXURY ITEMS, and their BABY; TADPOLELIVES, the bride, ROGUE and her bridegroom; GBIAD. As they move into the pose, THE DON seems preoccupied. DON LAPATKA” “Where's CZH?” BLARX: “He'll be here Pop, it's still early.” DON LAPATKA: “Then the picture will wait for him.” Everyone in the group feels the uneasiness as the DON moves back to the house. BLARX gives a delicious smile in the direction of the Maid-of-Honor, SURVIVETHIS. She returns it. Then he moves to his wife. BLARX: “Woman, watch the kids. They're posting suck messages in the spoilers forum again.” WOMAN: “You watch yourself. VANDELAY kisses his WIFE, and follows THE DON, passing the wine barrels, where a group of four men nervously wait. ART crooks a finger at LITTLE PUNK, who double checks that he is next, straightens, and follows VANDELAY. *COURTYARD ENTRANCE* Outside the main gate of the courtyard, several men in suits, working together with a man in a dark sedan, walk in and out of the rows of parked cars, writing license plate numbers down in their notebooks. We hear the music and laughter coming from the party in the distance. A man stops at a limousine and copies down the number. LITTLE PUNK, dignified in a black homburg, is always under the watchful eyes of two bodyguards as he makes his way to embrace DON LAPATKA in the courtyard. The men outside walk down another row of parked cars and put another number in their notebooks…a shiny new Cadillac with wooden bumpers. ALKABONG, dances the bridesmaids joyously, bumping bellies with the ladies. ALKABONG: “JOXY...wine...WINE.” He mops his sweating forehead with a big handkerchief. JOX hustles, gets a glass of icy black wine, and brings it to him. JOX: “You look terrific on the floor!” ALKABONG: “What are you, a dance judge? Go do your job; take a walk around the neighborhood... see everything is okay.” JOX nods and leaves; ALKABONG takes a breath, and leaps back into the dance. The men outside walk down another row of parked cars, and put another number in their notebooks. GREGARIOUSGRIMREAPER, a perverse looking man, dances with a nine-year- old girl, her little black party shoes planted on his enormous brown shoes. A look of immense satisfaction is on his face as a trickle of sweat creeps slowly down the bridge of his nose. The men outside move on to other parked cars, when BLARX storms out of the gate, his face flushed with anger, followed by ALKABONG and JOX. BLARX: “Buddy, this is a private party.” The man doesn't answer, but points to the driver of the sedan. BLARX menacingly thrusts his reddened face at him. The driver merely flips open his wallet to an ID card, without saying a word. BLARX steps back, spits on the ground, turns, and walks away, followed by ALKABONG, JOX, and two other men. He doesn't say a thing for most of the walk back into the courtyard, and then, mutters to JOX. BLARX: “Goddamn EZBOARD ADMINISTRATORS...don't respect nothing.” *DON'S OFFICE* DON LAPATKA sits quietly behind his massive desk in the dark study. LITTLE PUNK: “...a fine boy from HobieTopia, captured by the VANILLASLAVE Army, and sent to a Star Trek Forum as a prisoner of war...” DON LAPATKA: “LITTLE PUNK, my friend, tell me what I can do.” LITTLE PUNK: “Now that the war is over, SIRJONSNOW, this boy is being repatriated to SS. And you see, Fodfather... (he wrings his hands, unable to express himself) He...my daughter...they...” DON LAPATKA: “You want him to stay at this board.” LITTLE PUNK: “Fodfather, you understand everything.” DON LAPATKA: “Art, what we need is an Act of FOD to allow SIRJONSNOW to become a HobieTopian.” LITTLE PUNK: (impressed) “An Act of FOD!” VANDELAY: (nodding) “It will cost.” The DON shrugs; such are the way with these things; LITTLE PUNK nods. LITTLE PUNK: “Is that all? Fodfather, thank you... (backing out, enthusiastically) Oh, wait till you see the thread I made for your beautiful daughter! LITTLE PUNK backs out, all smiles, and nods to the FODFATHER. DON LAPATKA rises and moves to the Venetian blinds. VANDELAY: “Who do I give this job to?” The DON moves to the windows, peeking out through the blinds. DON LAPATKA: “Not to one of our Culture Vultures...give it to a GhostDick in another forum. Who else is on the list for today? The DON is peeking out at the men around the barrel, waiting to see him. VANDELAY: “JIMMYTHEHAND. His nephew has been refused parole. A bad case.” *COURTYARD* JIMMYTHEHAND waits nervously by the barrel. VANDELAY: “His other nic worked with you on the spoiler board when you were young.” EVENINGSTAR sits alone next to the barrel, grotesque and quiet. VANDELAY: “She's not on the list, but EVENINGSTAR wants to see you.” *DON'S OFFICE* The DON turns to VANDELAY. DON LAPATKA: “Is it necessary?” VANDELAY: “You understand her better than anyone”. The DON nods to this and then turns back to the blinds and peeks out. *COURTYARD* CZH, dressed in the uniform of a Marine Captain, leads FLUKE through the wedding crowd, occasionally stopped and greeted by friends of the family. *DON'S OFFICE* The DON, inside the office, peers through the blinds, following them. *COURTYARD* CZH moves through the crowd, embraces MAMA IGS and introduces her to FLUKE. *DONS OFFICE* The DON's eyes peer through the blinds. *COURTYARD TABLES* FLUKE and CZH settle by a table on the edge of the wedding, burdened down with plates of food and glasses and wine. She is exhilarated by the enormity of the affair, the music and the vitality. FLUKE: “I've never seen anything like it.” CZH: “I told you I had a lot of relatives.” FLUKE starts looking about, a young and lively thing in a gift shop. We see what she sees: Her interest is caught by the three men standing by the wine barrels. FLUKE: (amused) “CrayZ, what are those men doing?” CZH: “They're waiting to see my father.” FLUKE: “They're talking to themselves.” CZH: “They're going to talk to my father, which means they're going to ask him for something, which means they better get it right.” FLUKE: “Why do they bother him on a day like this?” CZH: “Because they know that no Lapatkan will refuse a request on his daughter's wedding day.” *WEDDING PARTY* ROGUE LAPATKA, the Bride, is pressing the bodice of her overly fluffy white gown against the groom, GBIAD. He is bronzed, with curly blondish hair and lovely dimples. She absolutely adores him and can barely take her eyes from him long enough to thank the various guests for the white envelopes they are putting into the large white purse she holds. In fact, if we watch carefully, we can see that one of her hands is slid under his jacket, and into his shirt, where she is provocatively rubbing the hair on his chest. GBIAD, on the other hand, has his blue eyes trained on the bulging envelopes, and is trying to guess how much cash the things hold. Discreetly, he moves her hand off of his skin. GBIAD: (whispered) “Cut it out, ROGUE.” The purse, looped by a ribbon of silk around ROGUE's arm, is fat with money. JOX and EEP watch the pair astutely. JOX: “What do you think? Twenty grand?” EEP, catches a DohReetos sandwich thrown by a friend, without once taking his eyes from the purse. EEP: “Who knows? Maybe more. Twenty, thirty grand in small bills cash in that silk purse. Holy CrotchCorks, if this was somebody else's wedding!” BLARX is sitting at the Wedding Dais, talking to SURVIVETHIS, the Maid of Honor. Every once in a while he glances across the courtyard, where his wife is talking with some women. He bends over and whispers something into ST's ear. BLARX’s Wife and the women are in the middle of a big, ribald laugh. WOMAN: “Is it true what they say about your husband?” BLARX’s Wifes hands separate with expanding width further and further apart until she bursts into a peal of laughter. Through her separated hands she sees the Wedding Dais. BLARX and ST are gone. *DON'S HALL & STAIRS* The empty hallway. The bathroom door opens and ST surreptitiously steps out. She looks up where BLARX is standing on the second landing, motioning for her to come up. She lifts her petticoats off the ground and hurries upstairs. TO BE CONTINUED…….? "THE FODFATHER" Act 2 "The FodFather" is my lame attempt at re-scripting a famous movie to HobieTopian standards. Please forgive me if I represent any of you poorly...it is only in jest. If I can, and if the residents of this message board allow me, I will rewrite the entire movie. At the end of it all, I shall retire the CrayZHorse moniker and start anew with a fresh nic. I feel this is a good way to "Go out with all guns blazing"! As always, this is done in memory of DG...we miss ya! And now....the story.... *COURTYARD TABLES* FLUKE and CZH. FLUKE: (in a spooky low tone) “CrayZ, that scary woman...Is she a relative?” She has picked out PPTP. CZH: “No. Her name is PPTP. You wouldn't like her.” FLUKE: (Excited) “Who is she?” CZH: (Sizing her up) “You really want to know?” FLUKE: “Yes. Tell me.” CZH: “You like spaghetti?” FLUKE: “You know I love spaghetti.” CZH: “Then eat your spaghetti and I'll tell you a PPTP story.” She starts to eat her spaghetti. She begins eating, looking at him eagerly. CZH: “Once upon a time, about fifteen years ago some people wanted to take over my father's message board. They had BEEFJERKY send some men in from Sucks to flame my father, and they almost did.” FLUKE: “BEEF JERKY!” CZH: “My Father sent PPTP after them. She tied the two men hand and foot, and stuffed rubber ball gags into their mouths. Then she took a plunger, and pulled a “Bronx Arrest” on one of the men...” FLUKE: “CrayZ...” CZH: “Then she did a maneuver called the: Nathan Lane...” FLUKE: “CrayZ you're trying to scare me...” CZH: “Then she used EpilStop spray to remove all his body hair.” FLUKE: “CrayZ, I don't want to hear anymore...” CZH: “Then PPTP turned to the other man...” FLUKE: “CrayZ, I love you.” CZH: “...who out of sheer terror had swallowed the ball gag in his mouth and suffocated.” The smile on his face seems to indicate that he is telling a tall tale. FLUKE: “I never know when you're telling me the truth.” CZH: “I told you that you wouldn't like her.” FLUKE: “She's coming over here!” PPTP comes toward them to meet ART VANDELAY halfway, just near their table. CZH: “ART...ART, I'd like you to meet FLUKE.” FLUKE: (having survived PPTP) “How do you do.” CZH: “My brother, ART VANDELAY.” VANDELAY: “Hello FLUKE. Your father's inside CrayZ, doing some business. (Privately) He's been asking for you”. CZH: “Thanks ART.” VANDELAY smiles and moves back to the house, PPTP ominously following. FLUKE: “If he's your brother, why does he have a different name? CZH: “My brother BLARX found him living in a dumpster eating KFC original recipe when he was a kid, so my father took him in. He's a good poster. *DON'S OFFICE* DON LAPATKA at the window. He has seen the intimacy of the young couple. Now he stares and smiles at the firmness of Flukes ass beneath the party dress. PPTP: “DON LAPATKA...” THE DON turns to the stiffly formal PPTP, as she moves forward to kiss his ass. She takes an envelope from her bra, holds it out, but does not release it until she makes a formal speech. PPTP: (with difficulty) “Don LAPATKA...I am honored, and grateful...that you invited me to your home...on the wedding day of your...daughter. May their first child...be a masculine child…and not one of those tree-hugging, pot-smoking, no-plastic using hippies that we read about! I pledge my never-ending loyalty. (She offers the envelope) For your daughter's bridal purse.” DON LAPATKA: “Thank you, PPTP, my most valued friend and cooker of testes.” THE DON takes it, and then grabs PPTP's ass, which he squeezes so tightly we might imagine it to be painful. PPTP: “Let me leave you, Don LAPATKA. I know you are busy, plus…I need some ice for my aching ass.” She turns, almost an about-face, and leaves the study with the same formality that she entered with. DON LAPATKA breathes more easily, and gives the thick envelope to VANDELAY. DON LAPATKA: “I'm sure it's the most generous gift today.” VANDELAY: “The EZBoard Moderator called--apologized for not coming personally, but said you'd understand. Also, some of the Admins...they've all sent gifts. And another call from PABLOMAX.” DON LAPATKA is not pleased. VANDELAY: “The action is siglines. PABLOMAX has contacts in WHE for the scripting, in SS for the html to process down to “Smoochie-Boochie” lines or up to embossed gifs. Also he has access to this message board. He's coming to us for financial help, and some sort of immunity from the admins. For that we get a piece of the action, I couldn't find out how much. PABLOMAX is vouched for by the FucTard family, and they may have a piece of the action. They call PABLOMAX the Pole. He's spent a lot of time in Poland and is suppose to have a Polish wife and kids. He's suppose to be very quick with the ampersand, or was, when he was younger, but only in matters of business and with some reasonable complaint. Also he has an Hobietopian wife and three children and he is a good family man.” THE DON nods. VANDELAY: “He's his own boss, and very competent”. DON LAPATKA: “And with record.” VANDELAY: “Two terms; one in SS, one at some Everquest board. He's known to the Moderators as a top CGI man. That could be a plus for us; he could never get immunity to testify.” DON LAPATKA: “When did he call?” VANDELAY: “This morning.” DON LAPATKA: “On a day like this. Culture Vulture, do you also have in your notes the Pole made his living from making AOL IM icons before the war, like the Fuctards do now. Write that down before you forget it. The Pole will wait.” We now begin to hear a song coming over the loudspeakers from outside. In Lapatkan, with unmistakable style. #Oompa loompa doompety doo I've got a perfect puzzle for you Oompa loompa doompety dee If you are wise you'll listen to me What do you get when you guzzle down sweets Eating as much as an elephant eats What are you at, getting terribly fat What do you think will come of that I don't like the look of it Oompa loompa doompety da If you're not greedy, you will go far You will live in happiness too Like the Oompa Loompa Doompety do Doompety do Oompa loompa doompety doo I've got another puzzle for you Oompa loompa doompeda dee If you are wise you'll listen to me Gum chewing's fine when it's once in a while It stops you from smoking and brightens your smile But it's repulsive, revolting and wrong Chewing and chewing all day long The way that a cow does Oompa loompa doompety da Given good manners you will go far You will live in happiness too Like the Oompa Loompa Doompety do Oompa loompa doompety doo I've got another puzzle for you Oompa loompa doompety dee If you are wise you'll listen to me Who do you blame when your kid is a brat Pampered and spoiled like a siamese cat Blaming the kids is a lie and a shame You know exactly who's to blame The mother and the father Oompa loompa doompety da If you're not spoiled then you will go far You will live in happiness too Like the Oompa Loompa Doompety do Oompa loompa doompety doo I've got another puzzle for you Oompa loompa doompeda dee If you are wise you'll listen to me What do you get from a glut of TV A pain in the neck and an IQ of three Why don't you try simply reading a book Or could you just not bear to look You'll get no You'll get no You'll get no You'll get no You'll get no commercials Oompa loompa doompety da If you like reading you will go far You will live in happiness too Like the - Oompa - Oompa Loompa Doompety do# DON LAPATKA: “What that? It sounds like COLBSTER.” He moves to the window, pulls the blinds up, flooding the room with light. DON LAPATKA: “It is COLBSTER. She came all the way from that other board to be at the wedding.” VANDELAY: “Should I bring her in?” DON LAPATKA: “No. Let the people enjoy her. You see? She is a good Culture Vulture.” VANDELAY: “It's been two years. She's probably in trouble again.” *COURTYARD* COLBSTERBRANDOCHEESE on the bandstand, singing to the delight and excitement of the wedding GUESTS. FLUKE: “I didn't know your family knew COLBSTERBRANDOCHEESE.” CZH: “Sure.” FLUKE: “I used to come down to New York whenever she sang at the Capitol and scream my head off.” CZH: “She's my father's Fod-daughter; she owes him her whole career.” COLBSTER finishes the song and the CROWD screams with delight. They call out for another when DON LAPATKA appears. DON LAPATKA: “My Fod-daughter has come three thousand miles to do us honor and no one thinks to pinch her ass.” At once a dozen pinching fingers are offered to COLBSTER, who takes a nip from each as she moves to embrace her FODFATHER. COLBSTER: “I kept trying to call you after S2 went off the air and ART always said you were busy. When I got the Wedding invitation I knew you weren't sore at me anymore, FODFATHER.” DON LAPATKA: “The only thing sore now is your tight ass! Can I do something for you still? You're not too rich, or too famous that I can't help you?” COLBSTER: “I'm not rich anymore, FODFATHER, and...my career, I'm almost washed up...” She's very disturbed. The FODFATHER indicates that she come with him to the office so no one will notice. He turns to VANDELAY. DON LAPATKA: “Tell BLARX to come in with us. He should hear some things.” They go, leaving VANDELAY scanning the party looking for BLARX. *DON'S OFFICE* VANDELAY glances up the staircase. VANDELAY: “BLARX?” Then he goes up. *DON'S UPSTAIRS ROOM* BLARX and SURVIVETHIS are in a room upstairs; he has lifted her gown's skirts almost over her head, and has her standing against the door. Her face peeks out from the layers of petticoats around it like a flower in ecstasy. In the corner stands a blow-up sheep and a large jar of Vaseline. ST: “BLARXeeeeeeee.” Her head bounces against the door with the rhythm of his body. But there is a knocking as well. They stop, freeze in that position. VANDELAY: “BLARX? BLARX, you in there?” *OUTSIDE, VANDELAY BY THE DOOR* VANDELAY: “The old man wants you; COLBSTER's here...she's got a problem. BLARX: “Okay. One minute.” VANDELAY hesitates. We HEAR ST's head bouncing against the door again. A sheep’s bray pierces the air. Someone deftly passes wind. ART leaves. *DON'S OFFICE* DON LAPATKA: “ACT LIKE A WOMAN! By Christ in Heaven, is it possible you turned out no better than that SUNNYFLORIDA poster?” Both VANDELAY and COLBSTER cannot refrain from laughing. The DON smiles. BLARX enters as noiselessly as possible, still adjusting his clothes. A small amount of wool floats to the floor from BLARX’s pants. DON LAPATKA: “All right, Hollywood...Now tell me about this Hollywood Moderator who won't let you work. COLBSTER: “He owns the board. Just a month ago he bought the CSC Gold package. And now he is doing a play on the message board. The main character is a girl just like me. I wouldn't even have to act, just be myself.” The DON is silent, stern. DON LAPATKA: “You take care of that infection you had last month?” COLBSTER: “Sure.” He glances at BLARX, who makes himself as inconspicuous as he can. DON LAPATKA: “You look terrible. I want you to eat well, to rest. And spend time in the hot tub. And then, at the end of the month, this big shot will give you the part you want.” COLBSTER: “It's too late. All the contracts have been signed, they're almost ready to start.” DON LAPATKA: “I'll make him an offer he can't refuse.” He takes COLBSTER to the door, pinching her ass hard enough to hurt. DON LAPATKA: “Now go back to the party and leave it to me.” He closes the door, smiling to himself. Turns to VANDELAY. DON LAPATKA: “When does my daughter leave with her bridegroom?” VANDELAY: “They'll cut the cake in a few minutes...leave right after that. Your new son-in-law, do we give him something important?” DON LAPATKA: “No, give him a living. But never let him know the family's business. What else, ART?” VANDELAY: “I've called the hospital; they've notified Culture Vulture CUNNINGLAWYER's family to come and wait. He won't last out the night. This saddens the DON. He sighs. DON LAPATKA: “CUNNINGLAWYER will wait for me. BLARX, tell your brothers they will come with me to the hospital to see CUNNINGLAWYER. Tell DCASS to drive the big car, he likes to make the “VROOM-VROOM” noises, and ask COLBSTER to come with us.” BLARX: “And CrayZ?” DON LAPATKA: “All my sons. (to VANDELAY) ART, I want you to go to California tonight. Make the arrangements. But don't leave until I come back from the hospital and speak to you. Understood?” VANDELAY: “Understood.” *COURTYARD* Now all the wedding GUESTS excitedly clap their hands over the entrance of the cake: LITTLE PUNK is beaming as he wheels in a serving table containing the biggest, gaudiest, most extravagant wedding cake ever baked, an incredible monument of his gratitude. The crowd is favorably impressed: they begin to clink their knives or forks against their glasses, in the traditional request for the Bride to cut the cake and blow the Groom. Louder and louder, five hundred forks hitting five hundred glasses. *LATER* Silence. The guests are gone. A single black car is in the courtyard. FREDDIE is behind the driver's seat: the DON enters the car, looks at CZH, who sits between BLARX and COLBSTER in the rear seat. DON LAPATKA: “Will your girl friend get back to the city all right?” CZH: “ART said he'd take care of it.” The DON pulls the door shut; and the car pulls out, through the gate of the great LAPATKA Mansion. *HOSPITAL CORRIDOR* A long white hospital corridor, at the end of which we can see a grouping of FIVE WOMEN, some old and some young, but all plump and dressed in black. DON LAPATKA and his SONS move toward the end. But then the DON slows, putting his hand on CZH's shoulder. CZH stops and turns toward his FATHER. The two looks at one another for some time. SILENCE. DON LAPATKA then lifts his hand, and slowly touches a particular medal on CZH's uniform. DON LAPATKA: “What was this for?” CZH: “For basket weaving.” DON LAPATKA: “And this?” CZH: “For not asking and not telling.” DON LAPATKA: “What miracles you do for strangers.” CZH: “I met them at a highway rest stop. They were not strangers.” DON LAPATKA: “And now, what do you choose to do?” CZH: “I'm going to finish this fucking story.” DON LAPATKA: “Good. When you are finished, come and talk to me. I have hopes for you.” Again they regard each other without a word. CZH turns, and continues on. DON LAPATKA watches a moment, and then follows. *HOSPITAL ROOM* DON LAPATKA enters the hospital room, moving closest to our view. He is followed by his sons, COLBSTER and the other women. DON LAPATKA: (whispered) “CUNNINGLAWYER, I've brought my sons to pay their respects. And look, even COLBSTERBRANDOCHEESE, all the way from Hollywood.” CUNNINGLAWYER is a tiny, wasted skeleton of a man. DON LAPATKA takes his bony hand, as the others arrange themselves around his bed, each clasping the other hand in turn. CUNNINGLAWYER: “FODFATHER, FODFATHER, it's your daughter's wedding day, you cannot refuse me. Cure me, you have the power.” DON LAPATKA: “I have no such power...but CUNNINGLAWYER, don't fear death. CUNNINGLAWYER: (with a sly wink) “It's been arranged, then?” DON LAPATKA: “You blaspheme. Resign yourself.” CUNNINGLAWYER: “You need your old Culture Vulture. Who will replace me? (suddenly) Stay with me FODFATHER. Help me meet death. If he sees you, he will be frightened and leave me in peace. You can say a word, pull a few strings, eh? We'll outwit that bastard as we outwitted all those others. (clutching his hand) FODFATHER, don't betray me.” The DON motions all the others to leave the room. They do. He returns his attention to CUNNINGLAWYER, holding his hand and whispering things we cannot hear, as they wait for death. TO BE CONTINUED………… "THE FODFATHER" Act 3 As usual, this is a work of parody and not meant to be taken seriously! Apologies in advance to anyone who is offended by it! It's all for fun! *PPTP'S ROOM* PPTP's tiny room. She is partly dressed. She kneels and reaches under her bed and pulls out a small, locked trunk. She opens it, and takes out a heavy, bulletproof vest. She puts it on, over her wool undershirt, and then puts on her shirt and jacket. She takes her gun, quickly disassembles, checks, and reassembles it. And leaves. *DON'S OFFICE* A close view of DON LAPATKA thinking quietly. *MOVING TRAIN* CZH and FLUKE on a train, speeding on their way to the JEDI board. *SUBWAY* PPTP, in her bulky jacket, sitting quietly on an empty subway train. *AIRPLANE* VANDELAY makes his way to the Sucks Board. He reaches into his underwear, and takes out several pounds of chocolate. He eats the chocolate as he stares at a group of photographs. One photograph is of a smiling man, GOTAJAGUAR, linked arm in arm with fifteen drag queens on either side, they appear to be doing some form of ritualistic dance on a Broadway stage. VANDELAY considers other photos. *DON'S OFFICE* DON LAPATKA looks, and then moves VANDELAY into an embrace. He tries to kiss ART, but VANDELAY deftly dodges his advances. He straightens his arms and looks at ART deeply. DON LAPATKA: “Remember my new Culture Vulture, a poster with his wits about him can flame more than a hundred men with WebTV.” *GOTAJAGUAR ESTATE GATE* VANDELAY stands before the impressive gate, armed only with his wits and an impressive looking black butt-plug. A gateman opens the gate, as a good gateman would, and ART enters. *GOTAJAGUAR GARDENS* VANDELAY and GOTAJAGUAR comfortably stroll along beautiful formal gardens, martinis in hand. GOTAJAGUAR: “You should have told me your boss was LAPATKA, I had to check you out. I thought you were just some third rate hustler COLBSTER was running in to bluff me.” They cross the garden and head toward a small shack. GOTAJAGUAR: “I'm going to show you something horrible.” They pass the shack, and come to rest by a pigsty with a huge bronze plaque attached to the outside wall: "VANILLASLAVE." Two security guards are positioned in chairs nearby; they rise as GOTAJAGUAR approaches. GOTAJAGUAR: “You like pigs? I like pigs, I love 'em. Beautiful, expensive love-pigs. You look like a goat man…but a pig now and then would do you some good! But….have you ever seen a truly ugly pig? Feast your eyes my friend!” The filthy animal inside is truly grotesque. GOTAJAGUAR whispers to her with disgust in his voice. GOTAJAGUAR: “VANILLASLAVE...NILLA...You are looking at a 1974 Pinto Hatchback and a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer on four hoofs. I bet even Jed Clampett never paid that kind of dough for a pig. But I'm not going to fuck her, I'm going to use her face as a pesticide!” *GOTAJAGUAR’s DINING ROOM* VANDELAY and GOTAJAGUAR sit at an enormous dining room table, attended by several servants. Great paintings hang on the walls. The meal is elaborate and sumptuous. VANDELAY: “Mr. LAPATKA is COLBSTER's FODFATHER. That is very close, a very sacred religious relationship.” GOTAJAGUAR: “Okay, but just tell him this is one favor I can't give. But he should try me again on anything else.” VANDELAY: “He never asks a second favor when he has been refused the first. Understood?” GOTAJAGUAR: “You smooth son of a bitch, let me lay it on the line for you, and your boss. COLBSTERBRANDOCHEESE never gets that part! I don't care how many Homo, Lactating, Hemophiliac, Gopher-Loving, Oompah Loompahs come out of the woodwork!” VANDELAY: “I'm from New Jersey.” GOTAJAGUAR: “My condolences. COLBSTER will never get that part because I hate that cheese-sucking bitch and I'm going to run her out of the Boards. And I'll tell you why. She ruined one of GOTAJAGUAR’s most valuable protégés. For five years I had this guy under training, singing lessons! Acting lessons! Dancing lessons! Tap! Jazz! The Achey-Breaky Heart Dance! We spent hundreds of thousands of dollars--I was going to make him a star. He was gonna be the next Magnum P.I. I tell ya! I'll be even more frank, just to show you that I'm not a hard-hearted man, that it wasn't all dollars and cents. That guy was beautiful and young and innocent and he was the greatest piece of ass I've ever had and I've had them all over the world. Then COLBSTER comes along with that squeaky voice and cheesy charm and he runs off. He threw it all away to make me look ridiculous. A MAN IN MY POSITION CANNOT AFFORD TO BE MADE TO LOOK RIDICULOUS! AND I’VE BEEN IN EVERY POSITION MY FRIEND! MISSIONARY, DOGGY, NATHAN LANE….YOU NAME IT, I DID IT!!” *LAPATKA PIMPLE OIL CO.* An unimposing little building in Hobietopia on DG Street with a large old sign: "LAPATKA PIMPLE OIL IMPORTS, INC." next to an open-faced fruit market. An ancient Buick pulls up, and a single small man, whom we cannot see well because of the distance, gets out and enters the building. This is PABLOMAX. *PIMPLE OIL OFFICES* Looking toward the staircase we can hear PABLOMAX's footsteps before he actually rises into view. He is a small man, very dark, with curly black hair…even on his chest…but wiry, and tight and hard, and obviously very dangerous. He is greeted at the head of the stairs by BLARX, who takes his hand and shakes it, introducing himself. For a moment, there is a complex of handshaking and ass pinching quite formal, and whispered respectful introductions. Finally, PABLOMAX is taken into the DON's glass paneled office; the two principals are introduced. They are very respectful of one another. Folding chairs are brought in by DCASS, and soon they are all sitting around in a circle: the DON, PABLOMAX, BLARX, VANDELAY, DCASS, ALKABONG and SIRJONSNOW. The DON is the slightest bit foolish with all his compatriots, whereas PABLOMAX has brought no one. Throughout all that transpires, however, it is clear that this scene is between two men: PABLOMAX and DON LAPATKA. PABLOMAX: “My business is siglines, I have CGI scripts, Java tutorials on Tripod ad Geocities, ready to go into production. My importing methods are as safe as these things can be, about five per cent loss. The risk is nothing, the profits enormous.” DON LAPATKA: “Why do you come to me? Why do I deserve your generosity?” PABLOMAX: “I need two million dollars in cash...more important, I need a friend who has people in high places; a friend who can guarantee that if one of my employees is banned, they would get only light sentences. Be my friend.” DON LAPATKA: “What percentages for my family?” PABLOMAX: “Thirty per cent. In the first year your share would be four million dollars; then it would go up.” DON LAPATKA: “And what is the percentage of the SCARY1SHERRY family?” PABLOMAX nods toward VANDELAY. PABLOMAX: “My compliments. I'll take care of them from my share.” DON LAPATKA: “So. I receive 30 per cent just for finance and protection. No worries about operations, is that what you tell me?” PABLOMAX: “If you think two million dollars in cash is just finance, I congratulate you DON LAPATKA.” There is a long silence; in which each person present feels the tension. The DON is about to give his answer. DON LAPATKA: “I said I would see you because I've heard you're a serious man, to be treated with respect...(pause) But I'll say no to you.” A hush falls throughout the room. BLARX slaps DCASS in the back of the head to keep him from gnawing the furniture. DON LAPATKA: “I'll give you my reasons. I have many, many friends in Ezboard. But they wouldn't be so friendly if my business were siglines instead of picture captioning. They think picture captioning is something like biting your toenails, a harmless vice...and they think siglines is dirty business.” PABLOMAX takes a breath. DON LAPATKA: “No...How a man makes his living is none of my business. But this proposition of yours is too risky. All the people in my family lived well the last two years, I won't risk that out of greed.” PABLOMAX: “Are you worried about security for your million?” DON LAPATKA: “No.” PABLOMAX: “The SCARY1SHERRY’s will guarantee your investment also.” This startles BLARX; he blurts out. BLARX: “The S1S family guarantees our investment?” PABLOMAX hears him first, and then very slowly turns to face him. Everyone is the room knows that BLARX has stepped out of line. DON LAPATKA: “Young people are stupid, and they have no manners. They speak when they should listen. But I have a sentimental weakness for my children, and I've spoiled them, as you see. But Signor PABLOMAX, my no is final.” PABLOMAX nods, understands that this is the dismissal. He glances one last time at BLARX. He rises; all the others do as well. He bows to the DON, shakes his hand, and formally takes his leave. When the footsteps can no longer be heard: The DON turns to BLARX. DON LAPATKA: “BLARXINO, never let anyone outside the family know what you are thinking. I think your brain is going soft from all that comedy you play with that young girl who has the large breasts.” Two office workers are carrying an enormous floral display with the word "THANK YOU" spelled out in flowers. DON LAPATKA: “What is this nonsense?” VANDELAY: “It's from COLBSTER. It was announced this morning. She's going to play the lead in the new GOTAJAGUAR MessageBoard Outback post.” *GOTAJAGUAR'S BEDROOM* It is large, dominated by a huge bed, in which a man, presumably GOTAJAGUAR, is sleeping. Soft light bathes the room from the large windows. We move closer to him until we see his face, and recognize GOTAJAGUAR. He turns uncomfortably; mutters, feels something strange in his bed sheets. Something wet. He wakens, feels the sheets with displeasure; they are wet. He looks at his hand; the wetness is a combination of urine and slobber. He is frightened, pulls aside the covers, and sees a fresh stain on his sheets and pajamas. He grunts, and feels his own body frantically, moving, down, following the wetness, until he is face to face with the horribly disgusting head of VANILLASLAVE lying next to him. A thin line of drool creeps from her mouth. He struggles up to his elbows in the puddle of filth to see more clearly. He pulls back the sheet to find the beast completely naked in his bed; a used condom hangs listfully from between her buttocks. She slowly awakens and smiles at GOTAJAGUAR. GOTAJAGUAR tries to scream, but cannot. No sound comes out. Then, finally and suddenly an ear-splitting scream of pure terror escapes from GOTAJAGUAR, who is rocking on his hands and knees in an uncontrolled fit, funk all over him. *PIMPLE OIL OFFICES* Close view on the FODFATHER. Nodding. DON LAPATKA: “Send COLBSTER my congratulations.” TO BE CONTINUED………………………………….
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