Saturday, March 1, 2014

LosTiteres.TV The Movie ~ Part 3 ~ "DO WHAT I SAY!"


INT. LORO’S OFFICE - DAY

Loro is sitting at his desk, looking depressed and horrified, as his CAST OF PUPPETS walk in nonchalantly and take seats before him.


SEÑOR LORO
What is going on?


THEY CONTINUE a general CHATTER, pitching each other sketch ideas.


SEÑOR LORO (CONT’D)
What are you doing here?


Suddenly everyone stops talking, except:


MARY JUANA
And I said to him -- I don’t care if you get me high I’m still not gonna let you touch the leaves on my inner thigh!... Oh sorry.
Mario takes the room, before Loro’s desk.


MARIO
I hereby call to order our pitch meeting. We begin with... Me. I have been wanting to do a piece on Amy Winehouse since 2007 --


CONCHITA
I hate to break it to ya, but --


SEÑOR LORO
SILENCIO!


MARY JUANA
Well, you don’t gotta get agro.


SEÑOR LORO
Didn’t -- didn’t you people just watch the news broadcast?


MURMURS of NEGATORY.


CONCHITA
I was actually fixing my make-up.


SEÑOR LORO
I saw you all there, lurking!


RONALDO
(sing-songy, condescending)
But that doesn’t mean we’re liiiisteniiiing!


SEÑOR LORO
Well, here it is... THERE’S NO SHOW. SE ACABO EL ESPECTACULO. No mas. No mas show! No hay dinero. No funding! No money. SHOW’S OVER!


MARY JUANA
Plus, the FCC says we’re gross. I’m so stressed, I just wanna set myself on fire.


NAKED BOB
I’d be into that.


SEÑOR LORO
Mary stop smoking yourself.


MARY JUANA
SMOKING? ... Are you crazy?! I EAT MYSELF.


CONCHITA
Okay, that’s T.M.I.


SEÑOR LORO
GET OUT! ALL OF YOU! I don’t need to be loved, I need to be respected!


MURMURS of RESENTMENT AS THEY LEAVE...


NAKED BOB
-- doesn’t have to be a dick about it if we just wanna get high.
LORO SLAMS THE DOOR SHUT. Leans and breathes a sigh against it.


He saunters, barely able to lift his depressed feet, over to his desk. He opens the top drawer, takes out a yellow legal pad. His red, feathered index finger traces the words:


    SEÑOR LORO’S “TO DO LISTA #1”
1. INTERVIEW ON LIVE TELEVISION
2. SUCCESS! ... IF NOT, GO TO STEP 3:
3. KILL MYSELF


A REVOLVER shines in the drawer. He tosses the list in the air, grabs the gun, and holds it dramatically before him. Looks out the window, thinks about it.


INT. PRODUCTION STUDIO - HALLWAY - DAY


THE PUPPETS have now gathered in the hallway.


CONCHITA
I don’t know why he’d cancel the show just because he doesn’t like my show.


MARY JUANA
We all love your shoooow!


MARIO
That bitchy bird, direct descendants of the dinosaurs.


NAKED BOB
What’s prehistoric about that bird is he never lets anyone put in an idea!


RONALDO
He reminds me of dictators I’ve known.


CONCHITA
That’s why I quit writing for Saturday Night Live.


ACROSS THE HALL, there’s a MYSTERIOUS SHADOW lurking.


WE TRACK closer to make out it’s someone short and stout, wearing a FEDORA HAT. Film noir style lurking in the distance. 


INT. LORO’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS


Loro is holding the gun to his head. It CLICKS.


SEÑOR LORO
It didn’t come with bullets, what a jip.


PHONE RINGS.


SEÑOR LORO (CONT’D)
I suppose I should answer that...


Loro watches it ring again, then SIGHS and presses the speaker button.


SEÑOR LORO (CONT’D)
Hola, Señor Loro hablando. How may I direct your insult?


INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS


In the darkness, we can now make out it’s SCHMEDLEY’s shadow under the Fedora. He’s talking on a cell phone.


SCHMEDLEY
(filtered)
You wanna save your show?


INT. LORO’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS


SEÑOR LORO
Totally...


WHITE NOISE...


SEÑOR LORO (CONT’D)
Fidel, is that you?


SCHMEDLEY
(filtered)
Who’s Fidel?


SEÑOR LORO
Raul?


SCHMEDLEY
This is Schmedley Schparky, dumb ass.


SEÑOR LORO
I don’t know who that is.


EXT. LOSTITERES.TV - DELAPIDATED CACA STUDIOS - DAY


The camera sees the studios right before it.


SCHMEDLEY
Have you ever heard of GOD?


The camera slowly pans to the right and TILTS UP, REVEALING that right NEXT DOOR to the LOSTITERES.TV Studios is a MONOLITHIC BUILDING.


SEÑOR LORO
Oh, Jesus.


ATOP THE BUILDING, there is a GIANT BILLBOARD SIGN with the face of SCHMEDLEY, that lights up every three seconds with a brilliant light, which reads: SCHMEDLEY SCHPARKY SCHOCOLATES. EAT IT!


SCHMEDLEY
Jesus?... I’m gonna do you one better.


INT. PRODUCTION STUDIO - LORO’S OFFICE


The door flies open, revealing a dramatically lit door frame, with a noir hallway. Schmedley in a fedora hat and trench coat is at its center. He walks a couple of steps in.


SEÑOR LORO
Wow, what an entrance.


Schmedley slowly looks up from his hat.


SCHMEDLEY
Alright boys, wrap it up.


The LIGHTS CHANGE SUDDENLY, and TWO HUMAN TEAMSTERS appear behind SCHMEDLEY.


SCHMEDLEY (CONT’D)
Take it down and scram.
One of the humans sets up a CHART for SCHMEDLEY. They both take lighting equipment and leave. Señor Loro looks at the chart.


SEÑOR LORO
What’s this?


POOF! A SPOT LIGHT ON SCHMEDLEY as he SINGS in the style of an upbeat RAG:


SCHMEDLEY
Do what I say.
And you’ll be okay.
This here’s the way it’s gonna be. You’re a bird, so repeat after me. If you wanna save the show,
You’ll do what I saaaaaayyyY!
If you don’t do it,
I’ll assume you’re gaaaaay.


SEÑOR LORO
That’s ridiculous!


SCHMEDLEY
Do what I say.
Who cares anyway?
I saw you on TV.
Your interview at three,
and it looks like you were dead in the water to me.
So, do what I say.


SEÑOR LORO
That’s not okay.


SCHMEDLEY
And when I say
You remember to yay!
‘Cause that’s the way,
to save the day!
Your plan was lame,
That’s why I caaaaaaaaame!


SEÑOR LORO
Please, not on the rug.


SCHMEDLEY
Do what I say.
Say yes, not ne --
For this is a relationship
I’d like to ferment!
Get this show outta the basement, Make you rich with product placement!
Make you rich and famous, YAY!


SEÑOR LORO
YAY!


SCHMEDLEY
Do what I say: About PROGRAMMING!


SEÑOR LORO
Do what you say.


SCHMEDLEY
MY SPONSORSHIP? It’s the only way.


SEÑOR LORO
Do what you say. Will you save the day?


SCHMEDLEY
You’ll be okay.
As the sponsor of the station I’ll get your head out of the muck. You’re in a state of elation ‘cause you’ve had such great luck!
‘Cause I saw you on TV this 
very same daaaaay!
I’m here to save the skein,
So sign your name on the dotted line!
There’s really not much time.
It’d be an awful crime.
It’ll really be sublime!
If You...DO ...WHAT ...I ... SAAAAAAAAYYYYYY!


He SLAMS THE DOOR SHUT.


INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS


THE PUPPETS are still gathered in the hallway.


CONCHITA
He thinks that because we both wear red, that we clash.


RONALDO
My little bocadito, my little pastry, my pastelito -- it’s really not all about you, or us, it’s about the world! They will be deprived of us! My free, online acting from an His-panic Point of View Classes.


CONCHITA
Ronaldo, you have to go in there and put your foot down!


RONALDO
What foot?


CONCHITA
I hereby appoint you, Ronaldo, president of our union. 


THEY ALL CHEER! Ronaldo looks nervous.


MORTIMER WEASEL
We have to face up to this crazy parrot! I just can’t live without my show! Are you guys with us?


ALL THE PUPPETS
Yeah!


INT. LORO’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS


Loro is stalling with the quill, but doesn’t sign.


SCHMEDLEY
What’s the problem?


SEÑOR LORO
Well, this is so sudden.


SCHMEDLEY
I thought this is what you wanted? I mean, really -- what else were you going to do today after you made a fool of yourself on live television?


SEÑOR LORO
Let’s see...


On his desk before him, there’s a yellow lined pad. His red feathered index fingers appear on it.


He looks up, sighs, and carefully puts the gun back in the drawer. He takes a FEATHER from his own coat, dips it in a small bottle marked BLOOD, and starts signing.


THE FRONT DOOR BANGS OPEN -- IN SAUNTER ALL LOS TITERES... 


SCHMEDLEY grabs the freshly signed papers and SNEAKS OUT.


CONCHITA
Tell ‘im Ronaldo!


RONALDO
Bueno... Well, it’s like this --


CONCHITA
Ronaldo says that you’ve run this station into the ground, and we don’t care if you created it! I’m the new star! He’s the new president, and we’re taking over! You were Fidel Castro’s right hand parrot, you should know a coup d’etat when you see it!


SEÑOR LORO
Perhaps, but I don’t speak French.


CONCHITA
We’re taking you over, Communist style, you Pauly-Wanting-a-Cracker!


SEÑOR LORO
I’ll have to reneg on the 6 million dollar deal I just signed. Each existing show gets a million dollar budget.


CONCHITA
Okay, change of plan -- Ronaldo, could you get us some coffee?


RONALDO
But I thought I was president?!


CONCHITA
You were momentarily, honey, you were...


SEÑOR LORO
Guess what, Naked Bob, we’re going to have to do some of that Cuban Santería hoo-doo on that reporter. I want him back.


Naked Bob laughs, looking around. All the other puppets sort of stare back at him.


INT. SANTERIA SHRINE
Naked Bob dances around, all painted up with blood to some African drum beats. Only this time, he’s dressed all in white, wearing a white hat!


CONCHITA
Is he supposed to be possessed? I’ve never seen him wear this many clothes.


SEÑOR LORO
Shut up Conchita, and quit looking for his balls, this is magic.
The puppets sit looking up at him, a fire going in the center. Ronaldo leans over, his face literally half-melted away.


RONALDO
... You guys -- I think I’m melting...


FADE OUT.

FADE IN:


EXT. LOSTITERES.TV - SCHPARKY SCHOCOLATE SCHTUDIOS


A WIDE ANGLE shows us that the old studio has been spruced up and expanded. To the side of the old barn, is the mega-rich super sleek new SCHPARKY SCHOCOLATE SCHTUDIOS. In every nook and cranny, there is now some sort of advertisement for SCHMEDLEY SCHPARKY SCHOCOLATES.


INT. LOSTITERES.TV - SCHPARKY SCHOCOLATE SCHTUDIOS


PUPPETS MILL ABOUT... BLUEBOX, an urban blue alien floor manager with his miniature headset on, goes in and out of a shot of a director’s chair that reads in a baroque font: SeÑor Loro. 


SEÑOR LORO is being spruced up in a dressing room by cast members, as his dressers and make up experts.


NEWS REPORTER is set up again, now wearing a classy outfit anxiously checking his watch, waiting for Señor Loro. This time, Loro appears to a FUNK BEAT in SLOW MO, wearing a smart brown suit. He sits and stares down the reporter as they put on his lav and NICKY does the countdown: 3 - 2 - 1!


NEWS REPORTER
It’s been a while.


SEÑOR LORO
Six million dollars ago... Time has been good to me, Bronson, time has been good. I can see you’ve wrinkled and added some hair plugs.


NEWS REPORTER
The perils of being human.


SEÑOR LORO
What a sad existence. I hear you’re desperate for a scoop. Haven’t had much good luck since Naked Bob did the hoo-doo on you.


NEWS REPORTER
Yes, don’t remind me.


SEÑOR LORO
You shouldn’t have left in such a rush last time... Um... Are those all the questions you have for me, Señor? I am a busy bird.


NEWS REPORTER
Oh, no! No! Please, a few more questions. I beg you.


SEÑOR LORO
I love begging.


BLUEBOX
Here’s the coffee you wanted.


BLUEBOX hands Loro a cup of coffee.


SEÑOR LORO
Gracias... Oh, don’t look at me like that because I have a blue assistant! I’m very progressive, I know.


NEWS REPORTER
I didn’t mean to -- I didn’t know they spoke English.


SEÑOR LORO
Oh yeah, blue people are usually multi-lingual. 


BLUEBOX, standing off-camera.


BLUEBOX (O.S.)
Aliens. We’re aliens, really, not blue people.


SEÑOR LORO
It was my idea in order to diversify the cast.


NEWS REPORTER
Brilliant. Genius.


BLUEBOX
Señor Loro, I got Spielberg on line 6?


NEWS REPORTER
Spielberg?!


SEÑOR LORO
Tell ‘im to hold, I’m doing an important interview with the American Press.


Bluebox steps into Señor Loro’s camera space.


BLUEBOX
What if he’s casting aliens for E.T. 2, ninja?!


SEÑOR LORO
Bluebox. Blue people should really get a censor chip in their brains. You people always think aloud. I can’t see one alien movie without you people yelling and screaming.


NEWS REPORTER
So, you’re still running LosTiteres.TV. Remarkable.


SEÑOR LORO
Mister Schparky has charged me to produce and oversee todo, the whole enchilada, everything.


NEWS REPORTER
... S’not what I heard.


SEÑOR LORO
Well, listen, uh, insolence bores me so, uh, I gotta go.


NEWS REPORTER
Congrats on your 6 million dollar deal. Don’t spend it all in one place. (awkward chuckle)


SEÑOR LORO
Was that a racial crack? About Latinos being poor?


NEWS REPORTER
No, it was about puppets being splendiferous.


SEÑOR LORO
‘Cause I’m litigious as fuck. I will sue you.


NEWS REPORTER
(looks to camera)
There you have it. The bird can echo the sentiments of his big corporate masters. But will LosTiteres.TV retain the charming and daring voice of its past under this new 

management? Or will the powers that be pull the strings?

SEÑOR LORO
I resent that, I am an American, not a marionette. There are no strings on me.


INT. MANSION - SMOKING ROOM - DAY


Schmedley’s MR. SCHPARKY is sitting on a recliner chair, smoking a cigar. He can barely breathe, or see what’s on the TV over his large belly.


NEWS REPORTER
Yes, you heard right, ladies and gentlemen. Six Million Dollars.


MR. SCHPARKY
SIX MILLION?! I’m gonna BUY A TV SHOW? SCHMEDLEYYYYYY!


From behind the shadows of the room, Schmedley calmly glides forth, petting a small white puppet cat.


SCHMEDLEY
Yes, father?


MR. SCHPARKY whirls around.


MR. SCHPARKY
Ooooh! You scared me, boy!


SCHMEDLEY
Yes father, that is what I do.


MR. SCHPARKY
Schmedley, it ain’t enough I gave you your own chocolate company, now you bought some crappy internet show?


SCHMEDLEY
Yes, father.


MR. SCHPARKY
What are you doing with my money?


SCHMEDLEY
Just playing...


MR. SCHPARKY
I ... guess ... it’s only six million dollars. Just don’t get hurt, son. And if you don’t get an award for programming, just tell daddy, and I’ll buy you one.


SCHMEDLEY
Dad, you’re totally rad.


The cat SCREECHES and runs away from his arms!


MR. SCHPARKY
What’s wrong with that stupid cat?


SCHMEDLEY
Oh, I just stuck my finger in his ass.


The cat looks up resentfully.


MR. SCHPARKY
Animals are not toys, Schmedley. Everyone but me will hurt you.


SCHMEDLEY
I need product-placed celebrity, daddy!  I gotta sell Schmedley Schocolates to the largest growing demographic in America: Latinos!... and I just ... uhhhhhh.... I just....


MR. SCHPARKY
Spit it out.


SCHMEDLEY
I just gotta be a celebrity, daddy. That’s what I want!


MR. SCHPARKY
Schmedley, what you want keeps getting more and more complicated.


SCHMEDLEY
I’ve made the loser chocolate company you threw at me into one of the most profitable business in the New York Stock Exchange. The least you can do, Daddy, is to have some farrrgin enthusiasm about making me famous!


MR. SCHPARKY
For what?


SCHMEDLEY
My fuckin’ schocolates, Dad!


MR. SCHPARKY
Now, cool your heels.


SCHMEDLEY
I mean, for fuck’s sake, Dad!


MR. SCHPARKY
Hey now. Watch that lip.


SCHMEDLEY
Daddy, I’m so glad you’re loaded, and that I am your only son, whom you yourself have made into a mascot.


MR. SCHPARKY
Alright I see your point. But I wanna see products placed out their orifices, you hear me?


SCHMEDLEY
Daddy, those are plebean aspirations. Want some Super-Sized Schmedley Schparky Schocolates?
He offers Father some chocolates, and eating it calms him.


MR. SCHPARKY
Alright Schmedley, go play.


SCHMEDLEY
I can see the headline: “SUPER Schocolate Magnate Celeb-utante Schmedley Schparky achieves FAME and CELEBRITY STAUS worldwide and beyond!” 


MR. SCHPARKY
Soooounds good Schmedley ... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.... You’re fired...Zzzzzzzzz....


Schmedley’s father falls gently asleep, SNORING in his overstuffed, dark red, reclining armchair -- the last of his cigar, still emitting a thin trail of smoke.


CLOSE ON SCHMEDLEY as he CHUCKLES TO HIMSELF. A REPRISE OF “DO WHAT I SAY” PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND...


SCHMEDLEY
And once I become a CELEBRITY, I will BUY THE WORLD AND MAKE EVERYONE... DO... WHAT... I... SAY!


FADE OUT.


************* 

Stay tuned for our next installment on April 1st!