An Analogous Historical Comedy
No portion of this script may be performed, reproduced, or used by
any means, or quoted or published in any medium without the prior
written consent of your's truly. We hope you enjoy.
in association with: August 09, 2005
CANINE PRODUCTIONS © 2005
600,000 Canine Terrace CANINE PRODUCTIONS
Paris, Brazil 00000 All Rights Reserved
CREDITS COME QUICKLY
No weird designs. Just the plain names.
And what do we hear?
I dunno, really.
This SONG: the made up song that was just made up.
OH... ONE DAY THIS GUY TOLD ME,
"HEY! THERE IS A $96 FEE!"
SO I VETURED IN MY POCKET,
AND DREW OUT A LOCKET.
HE TOOK THAT ARCHAIC THING,
ASKING ME IF I COULD SING
AND THIS IS WHAT I SAID TO HIM,
"YOU'RE A BLOODY BRAZILIAN SHIM!"
As the SONG FINISHED --
-- CREDITS COME TO AN END.
And the movie begins...
FADE IN ON:
EXT. OCEAN - FRIGATE - NIGHT
Those waves. And the rocking boat. Oh... I'm already queasy...
And who the heck called a ship that? Frigate? Sounds like a curse
word or something...
Reletively quiet. And the boat is situated right outside the dock.
The coastal city is illuminated with big lights back behind the ship.
CAMERA STARTS TO MOVE --
SLOWLY, INEXORABLY, ZOOMING onto the deck --
-- and suddenly it stops after 21 seconds of zooming in.
We are on the INFIDELITY with a TIGHT CLOSEUP of weary crew
occupying themselves with grog and cards and sleeping.
CAMERA MOVES AGAIN.
Hear a loud splash as the camera positions itself near the rear of
the ship. On the poopdeck --
-- suddenly, another STOP.
A rather horrid looking man. Has an eye patch over an... eye... rather
uncommon I would think. His darkly tanned skin suggests a long history
up in the mines of the Dakota Territory --
-- whoops --
-- Wrong explantion. His darkly tanned skin suggests that he
has been raiding and pillaging every known land mark on this side of
the world... If the world had sides... A dark scar crosses his left cheek
and a mischevious grin plays host to numerous golden and silver false
teeth he has claimed for himself.
CAMERA MOVES AGAIN.
An abrupt snore claims the somewhat silent crew of miscreants.
Camera moves down the steps to the mast closest to the rear
of the ship.
We are now looking upon a young gentlement of medium stature, but
how would we know for he is bound be countless pounds of rope.
Considering his situation, he should be frightened, but his bright face
beams with antisipation. His pale skin suggests that he has been
raiding and pillaging every known land mark on this side --
-- curse it all! --
-- His pale skin suggests a long history up in the mines of
the Dakota Territory in this New World of theirs. But how could we
possibly assume such an obscene history? Well we don't know, either.
Though a rather large swab has occupied this young fellows mouth, he
begins humming happily, looking toward the sky and the white sickle
One crew mate looks over at the racket and fumbles around along the
deck to find something big and heavy. In the darkness, he picks an
object up of moderate heaviness and size, chucks the thing at the
pale young fellow, misses, hits the mast!!! --
-- Thus, ruins the night for those who are on the INFIDELITY. You see,
this young fellow is unpopular, yet cannot be touched for some weird
reason. And this particular event triggered the damaging of the mast.
Or, rather the destruction.
A huge creaking was heard, causing the entire ship to be up in arms to
watch the entire shaft of their great ship tumble into the water. I guess
they don't make ships like they used to...
Thankfully, that pale dude was able to stand, and therefore, free himself
from the ropes. He then deposited the rags in his mouth. His name was
(exasperated by all the excitement)
What a wonderful night. I mean, look at that moon!
And all those stars! You don't see that back at
home. Wow. I could just stare up there all night.
CONTINUATION COMES NEXT