INT. BEDROOM - DAY
PORNO MAGS and LIT CANDLES on a desk. A FRAMED PICTURE OF ROSIE O’DONNELL rests in the middle of this menagerie of smut.
We hear MASTURBATION SOUNDS and GENTLE WEEPING off screen, accompanied by the CHEESIEST OF MUSIC.
The culprit is clearly distressed at his lack of tang tang.
EXT. SUBURBS - DAY
BRODY (21), a decent looking white kid, and BEANS (21), a short, frumpy, Mexican saunter up to a HOUSE.
They are the epitome of idiot goofballs. The type of guys with no goals in life.
BRODY wears a BOW-TIE and COLLARED SHIRT. Beans finishes off a string of SCRATCHERS LOTTO TICKETS and wears a BACKPACK.
No more work?
Scratches the last one.
Dog made of blow?
They reach the front door. Brody adjusts his bow-tie.
Dude, put that away. We have to look
Beans throws the losing scratchers on the ground. Brody KNOCKS. No answer.
This whole thing sounds shady. Who posts
baby-sitting ads on Craigslist? “Hey, here,
take my kid. Oh, by the way, do you want
to buy my Fender tube amp and some moccasins."
Shut up. You don’t know anything about business.
Brody opens the door slowly. The boys creep in.
INT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
The boys look around.
Hello, Mrs. Jackson? Professional, warm-hearted,
care-takers, at your service.
We’re not gonna steal your shit and sell it at
the swap meet, we promise.
INT. HOUSE - STAIRCASE - SAME TIME
POV of someone watching from above.
Beans opens his backpack and removes a GIANT BAG OF WEED. He stuffs an EXPENSIVE CHINA DOLL into the backpack. He’s trying to be sneaky, but it’s way obvious.
Brody finds a NOTE.
INT. HOUSE - DOWNSTAIRS - CONTINUOUS
Brody reads the note.
Dear Brody, thank you for caring for Frankie
on such short notice. Your altruism touches me.
In my soul, not in my pussy.
At that, LOUD, HEAVY, FOOTSTEPS upstairs. Then... A DOOR SLAMS SHUT.
What the hell was that?
I think it was an African rhino.
INT. HOUSE - STAIRCASE - DAY
The boys travel up. The CHEESY MUSIC blares through one of the rooms. They wince at the pitiful tunes.
Oh, god. It sounds like Kelly Clarkson’s
Or a dog getting fingered.
The phone RINGS.
Beans does. Brody goes into the loud room.
(low yet childish voice)
Are you here to take care of me?
Uh, who is this?
I like your hat. I got lots of toys in my spaceship.
The caller hangs up.
INT. HOUSE - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS
The room is decorated like a normal child’s room but with one major addition -- nasty porno everywhere.
Brody looks around in disgust. Beans runs in distressed.
Dude, let’s bail. I think there’s a child
molester here. And he’s from space.
The boys run out into the hall way. As soon as they exit...
WHACK!! -- FRANKIE clotheslines them to the ground. They hit their heads hard.
Frankie is a obese, twenty-year-old, man-child with some serious social issues.
He wears an oversized shirt that says FRANKIE and a FANNY PACK. Talks like a little kid.
INT. HOUSE - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER
The boys come to, a bit dazed. Beans’ backpack is gone.
What the hell happened?
I think that was Frankie.
That wasn’t Frankie, dude.
That was a chupacabra.
Wait, I think I get it. The ad said he
He knows magic?
No. I think he’s like, you know, retarded.
Beans notices his lost backpack.
Oh shit. Where’s my backpack?
I don’t know, did you leave it downstairs?
No I had it on me. Fuck.
Beans and Brody lock eyes in concern.
INT. FRANKIE’S ROOM - DAY
Frankie is sitting on top of his bed smiling and clutching a LOCKED SAFE like a teddy
bear. The boys creep in.
Are you looking for your backpack full
of stinky oregano?
Yes. Did you put it in that safe?
Frankie nods and smiles.
Let me handle this. I’m a negotiator.
Beans gets to eye level with Frankie.
(loud with hand gestures)
Very important sack of dank weed in there.
Need to sling it to your neighbors. Please give it--
Frankie slaps Beans in the face.
--Ouch. He hit me. You hit me. That was mean.
Frankie give you combo if you help Frankie.
Yes. Anything. Say it and it’s yours.
Frankie wobbles over to his desk and grabs his beloved picture of Rossie O’Donnell
You want a fat lesbo?
Frankie looks at it with loving eyes. Points at it.
Frankie’s face beams with delight as he makes thrusting motions.
Frankie want beef drapes. Pound it all
Give us a second.
INT. HOUSE - HALLWAY - DAY
The boys talk it over.
I think he wants us to get him laid.
We can’t do that. He’s a total loser.
Dude, our weed is in that backpack.
Geppetto gave us the weekend. Do you
want the gay mafia on our ass?
I know. We’ll buy him a hooker with
No. No hooker with the herps.
They’re too expensive.
What about Easy Mac? She sucked
Ted’s dick for a bagel.
Naw, she moved back to Texas. Looks like
we got no choice.
What are we gonna do?
Dance, bro. Dance.
EXT. DANCE CLUB - NIGHT
Establishing shot of a trendy and predictable night club.
INT. DANCE CLUB - THOROUGHFARE - NIGHT
Frankie cuts through the CROWED wearing a tacky, ridiculously tight, CLUB SHIRT.
Mesmerized by the abundance of attractive females. Beans and Brody trail considerably.
Frankie looks around for a second then spots his target...
TWO HOT GIRLS
Stand next to a bar conversing casually.
HOT GIRL #1
This LSAT review is killing me.
I’m just glad it’s almost over.
Frankie awkwardly enters their personal space. Gawks at both them
HOT GIRL #2
Um... can we help you?
Frankie just stands there with his bright eyes.
HOT GIRL #1
We’re kind of in the middle of something,
do you mind?
Frankie tries to muster words for a couple beats. Then...
(loud, in their face)
The girls shutter. Brody catches up.
(to the girls)
I’m so sorry, he’s not used to interacting
with such beautiful, intellectual women. Totally
not sluts. I beg for your indulgence.
Brody smiles at the girls and pulls Frankie away.
INT. DANCE CLUB - TABLE - NIGHT
Brody lectures Frankie. Beans sips on his drink.
You can’t do that, Frankie. They’re ladies
of virtue. You have to make them feel
comfortable and special, earn their trust, listen
to their hearts; then you can fuck them.
Watch the master.
Brody stands up and scans the place. He spots COURTNEY, a gorgeous black girl who is standing all alone against a wall. She seems to be waiting for someone.
My Nubian princess.
Brody slinks up, trying to be smooth. He stands in front of her.
Is there room for another rebel on this wall?
‘Cause I’m a renegade, baby -- I can’t be contained.
She welcomes him with warm eyes.
I think I can handle that.
Brody turns back toward the table and gives the boys two huge thumbs up, “it’s in the bag.” Turns back to Courtney.
So, do you watch BET?
Not all black people watch BET.
(thinks it’s a joke)
Haha. Good one.
She pinches his cheek.
You’re pretty cute... for a cracker.
I get that a lot. I’m actually good friends
with Al Sharpton, we play hockey
together on Sundays.
She smiles wide.
BACK AT THE TABLE
Beans in shock. Eyes wide.
Beans hides under the table.
A totally ripped, gay, black man with an appetite for ass kicking, strides toward Brody’s turned back. He’s outfitted in tight leather.
Brody continues his game. Courtney spots Geppetto and smiles.
I can bench like three fifty. UFC begged
me to join their league but I wouldn’t have it.
I find violence offensive.
You know what. I’ve seen enough.
Stop talking and close your eyes, baby.
Fuck yeah. I mean, alright.
Brody does. Courtney slides her hands down his chest then...
Geppetto grabs Brody’s balls from behind. Brody SCREAMS.
Courtney maneuvers away from Brody and waves at Geppetto.
Bye G, see you at church.
Geppetto whips Brody around and throws him up against the wall. Brody shocked.
Where’s my bud, foo!? I’m through with
you two heteros spacing my shit.
Um, yeah. About that. We--
Geppetto chokes Brody.
--Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear it.
Carlos and I are going to 7-11 at two AM
to buy watermelon Slurpees. If you and your
girlfriend don’t have our weed before then...
Geppetto smiles, takes a beat.
We’re gonna have ourselves a little gang
Closes in on Brody.
In the ass.
Brody -- scared shitless.
BACK AT THE TABLE
Beans comes out from under as Brody approaches.
I know I saw him. What did he say?
If we don’t give him the herb back before 2 AM,
he’s gonna Roman Polanski our assholes.
They exchange a look of concern. Then...
Turn to Frankie who casually sips on his Margarita. They grovel before him. Brody gets on his knees.
Frank! Come on, homie.
Frank, buddy -- If you don’t give us
those numbers, something really bad
is gonna happen to us. Please, I’m beggin
you. Be a pal.
Frankie ponders the begging for a second. Soaks it in for a healthy beat. Then...
Brody hangs his head. Beans looks adversity in the eye.
No! You know what. Poon is right.
Stands on a chair.
When Martin Luther King was marching
on Washington, did he give up? No!
When Kit’s older sister Dottie was stealing
her spotlight in ‘A League of Their Own’ and
Tom Hanks was all “there’s no crying in baseball”
did she quit? No!
Looks Frankie in the eye.
Frankie. Game time.
Frankie smiles wide and does a little dance.
FRANKIE REJECTION MONTAGE
Note: throughout the montage, we see cuts of Beans and Brody cheering him on and instructing.
-- Frankie, now wearing STUNNER SHADES, tries to grind on a CHUBBY GIRL from behind.
She tries her best to avoid him, but every time she moves to a different spot, Frankie follows her -- hump, hump, hump. Then...
She turns around and slaps him in the face.
-- Frankie gives an INNOCENT GIRL a flower and kisses her hand like a gentleman.
Thank you. That’s so adorable.
She turns back to her friends, not taking the big guy seriously.
Frankie quickly taps her on the shoulder.
She turns back around and he gives her the “give me head” gesture.
She chucks her drink in his face.
Brody and Beans stare at a soaked Frankie, they don’t get it -- “what went wrong?”
-- Frankie KNOCKS on the door of a bathroom stall. A HOT ROCKER GIRL opens it.
Frankie extends his hand to offer a little white, COKE BAGGY. He smiles wide and innocently.
A ROCKER GUY comes out from the stall, grabs the baggy, and shuts the door on Frankie’s face.
Frankie’s face drops.
-- Beans and Brody try and keep Frankie’s spirits up like a boxer’s trainer between rounds.
Brody gives Frankie a swig of alcohol then pushes him onto the dance floor.
Frankie starts gyrating his ass with horrible rhythm.
It gets the attention of the CROWED. Suddenly, Frankie transformers into a dancing machine.
He CRIP WALKS.
He MOON WALKS.
EVERYONE cheers him on. He looks ridiculous but he’s having a blast.
Frankie dancing in front of a NICE GIRL. She mimics his crazy moves. There seems to be some chemistry between them.
The Nice Girl fans herself in front of Frankie, they’re both sweaty.
Thank you for the dance, you’re really funny.
Frankie is smitten. He whips out a piece of crumpled, wet paper, from his pocket and
a small miniature golf pencil.
Can I have your phone address to call you?
The Nice Girl smiles. She pats him on the head.
I don’t think my boyfriend would approve.
She waves goodbye forever. Frankie crushed.
Frankie lurches back, heartbroken.
Brody tries to console him. Puts his hand on his shoulder.
Hey, it’s okay, man, she doesn’t
know what she’s missing.
Yeah she does, he’s fat.
Brody elbows Beans in the stomach.
You’ll get him next time.
Girls are mean. I hate myself.
Frankie huffs in anger and depression, like a kid about to throw a tantrum. Beans takes Brody aside.
Dude, I hate to say it, but we’re
getting desperate here.
I’m not gonna roofie anybody.
No. We’re gonna have to beat his ass.
He’s in a weak state, this is the time.
I’ve got a led pipe in my car.
Brody shakes his head. Turns back to Frankie.
Where the hell is he?
Beans and Brody split up and comb the CROWED looking for him.
They search the entire club -- the bathroom, the back alley, the hall way, out front. Nowhere to be found.
BACK AT THE TABLE
The two meet up. Panic setting in.
I searched everywhere.
Beans’ phone rings. He answers it.
Who is it?
Beans turns around in fear, Brody follows him...
Geppetto sits at a table next to the back door with his legs spread, staring lasciviously at Beans and Brody.
He licks the rim of his EMPTY DRINK CUP. Then he takes two fingers and rams it through the back of the cup, ripping it open.
A look of impending death flashes across their faces. They turn to the clock -- 1:30 AM.
They look to the front door for escape -- CARLOS (30’s), equally ripped and gay, holds guard. They’re screwed.
I think we should go our separate ways.
Butt death is more noble alone.
Beans nods his head. They hug and part ways.
NOBLE BUTT DEATH MONTAGE
--Brody at the bar taking shots, drowning sorrows in booze.
--Beans praying on the floor of the bathroom. There’s a picture of the VIRGIN MARY taped to the wall.
-- Brody motions to the bartender to bring him more drinks. Tears rolling down his face.
-- Beans crosses himself with a rosary.
Brody face down. Mumbles the lyrics to “The End” by The Doors. Barely audible.
This is the end, my only friend the end.
Someone sits next to him and taps him on the shoulder. It’s a bedraggled JOHN
LITHGOW -- established, reputable, actor.
Hey, buddy. Try to lay off the ecstasy.
Brody raises his head. John motions for a drink.
Yeah. Were you expecting Bob Saget?
You’re totally killing the vibes.
You gotta stop being such a puss.
You’re too young to have a wife, you’re not
attractive enough to have a hot girlfriend break
up with you. What the hell is it?
You wouldn’t understand, John Lithgow.
Just go away.
Come on, kid. I’m a Harvard educated
thespian and most people still come up to
me and say, “hey, aren’t you the voice of the
midget from Shrek.” Fuckers.
(holding back tears)
Fine. Me and Beans are babysitting this kid,
but he’s not a kid. And he stole our weed.
And Geppetto said he’s gonna pound our chili
bowls if we don’t have the weed. And Frankie’s
like “poon” all the time, it’s kind of funny actually,
and we tried but, Frankie... he’s... he’s...
Wait... Frank the poon slayer?
The retarded fat kid?
Brody perks up and nods.
JOHN LITHGOW (CONT’D)
Yeah, he’s with us, in the VIP.
He’s been sucking face with one of my
hoes for an hour. He’s hilarious.
Here, tell the bouncer you’re with me.
INT. CLUB - VIP ROOM - NIGHT
Brody flings the door open. PEOPLE MAKING OUT all over the place.
Brody spots Frankie in a booth and runs over.
He’s tongue-lashing a LARGE GIRL that looks exactly like a younger version of Rossie
Dude. We thought you ran away.
Frankie ignores him. Still making out.
Look, I hate to be a cockblock, but...
Wow, she really looks like Rossie, nice man,
I’m happy for you. Anyway, you have to give
me the numbers.
Frankie raises five fingers with his free hand.
He does it again.
Brody whips out his phone and types it in.
Okay, five, five.
Frankie flashes a five two more times.
Five, five, five, five. Got it.
CLOCK -- 1:58 AM.
INT. CLUB - GUYS BATHROOM - NIGHT
Brody picks Beans up off the floor.
There is a god. Come on. The Girls bathroom.
INT. CLUB - GIRLS BATHROOM - NIGHT
Brody and Beans escape out of a window.
INT. CLUB - MAIN AREA - NIGHT
Geppetto and Carlos look at their watches and scan the area for Beans and Brody, something fishy is going on.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Beans and Brody get in their car. Geppetto and Carlos spot them. The chase is on.
EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - NIGHT
Beans and Brody burst through the front door.
INT. FRANKIE’S ROOM - NIGHT
They bust in and grab the safe that rests on the bed, right where Frankie left it.
Come on, hurry up. I heard them following us.
Brody turns the dial on the safe.
Hold on, I’m trying. Ha, got it.
The safe opens...
It’s empty, except for a note written in crayon -- FRANKIE LOVE BONG LOADS.
The boys -- stunned.
At that, the door explodes open.
Geppetto and Carlos stand in the doorway wearing matching LEOPARD THONGS.
The boys don’t even turn around.
They're faces -- ghost white.
INT. GIRLS BEDROOM - LATER - NIGHT
Frankie on a bed with Rossie. They’re post-coital and she’s asleep.
Frankie takes a rip from a huge bong. His smile lights up the room. He’s on cloud
Created: Jun 19, 2010Document Media