Tag Archives: Disney

My Hollywood Dream

20 Dec

December 20, 2012

I’ve been working on a movie lately and I am sure that it is going to be a hit. It’s family friendly and would make a great Pixar or Disney film. It has elements of The Rescuers, The Iron Giant, and even Lassie but it is totally unique and original. I’m going to relate my vision to you as a short story so that you can see the potential for box office mojo and then, I hope, you’ll join me in getting a studio to back this sure-to-be blockbuster.

HAMSTERUS!

Act One: Bobby

10808318-a-happy-cartoon-boy-running-and-smilingLittle Bobby Simmons was only five years old, but for as long as he could remember he always wanted a pet hamster. His parents always thought he was too little for a pet.

“But when can I have a hamster?”
“You can have a hamster when you can reach the top of the desk without standing on your tip-toes,” his mother told him.

Bobby was a growing boy, and obedient. He always ate all of his vegetables and did everything his mother told him to do. Every day after breakfast he’d rush back to his room and measure himself and one day, finally, he could reach the top of the desk without standing on his tip-toes. He flew to his mother’s arms.

“I can do it Mother! I can do it!”
“What dear? What can you do?”
“I can reach the top of the desk without standing on my tip-toes! I can do it!”
“That’s wonderful!”
“But mother, why did I have to be able to reach the top of the desk?”
“Because that is where I am going to put the cage for your new hamster!”

That day Little Bobby Simmons came home from school and found a brand new hamster cage on his desk, and inside was a fuzzy little hamster.

Act Two: Bobby And Squeak

stock-vector-happy-hamster-cartoon-103633190Squeak was just five weeks old when he came to live with Bobby.  Although Squeak missed his mother terribly, and his father and all his brothers and sisters, he loved Bobby with al. his heart.

And Bobby loved him.

The two of them were inseparable. Bobby would sneak bits of his meal to Squeak during dinner. He hid the hamster under a napkin in his lap when his mother wasn’t looking. And his mother always knew to look away long enough to give Bobby time to feed Squeak, to make sure he didn’t get “caught.”

Bobby and Squeak, Squeak and Bobby. Two closer friends you can never find. They played together every day. Squeak made sure that Bobby did his homework, and Bobby made sure that Squeak had clean water and a fresh cage.  He never, ever, neglected his best friend.

But one day he forgot something.

Act Three: Squeak Out And About

Bobby had a special assembly at school and he was excited. It was his job to carry the American flag during the assembly and he was so eager he could barely sleep the night before. Finally the morning came and he jumped out of bed, got washed and ready for school, fed Squeak, and was in practically ran all the way to school.

Now bobby loved Squeak, and he took as good care of him as any boy ever took care of his hamster, if not better, but this particular day he was in a hurry and when he fed Squeak he forgot to latch the cage door.

Squeak didn’t notice. He ate his breakfast and ran around in his wheel, as he always did, then he took a nap, as he always did, and then, on his way back to his wheel, he saw something strange: his door was ajar.

Squeak was curious and he slowly went out the door, and finding himself on the desk he always saw from his bed of shredded newspaper, began to feel a little more confident. He sniffed his way across the desk, and then, feeling a bit bold, jumped off the desk and onto the floor. This was totally new territory for him. He loved the feel of the carpet and the smoothness of the wood floors. He played on the steps of the stairs and ran among the legs of the furniture. He ran around corners and jumped over shoes and loved it when the smoothness of the floor gave way to the grass of the lawn and then the concrete of the sidewalk.

Yes, without paying attention poor little Squeak found himself outside and in unfamiliar surroundings. The poor little hamster only wanted to go home and be ready to play with Bobby when he came home.

But where was home? What did it even look like? A little afraid and already homesick, Squeak started to walk back toward his house.

But he was going in the wrong direction.

Act Four: Squeak’s Bad Day

He was cold and hungry. He was tired and alone. Squeak was lost. He had walked far, far from home. Bobby, back in the warm and comfortable house, missed Squeak with all his heart. All he wanted was for his friend to be home. And Squeak wanted the same thing too.

Tears in his eyes, Squeak no longer paid attention to where he was wandering. He never noticed when the grass turned to dirt and then to sand, never noticed the Keep Out signs, nor could he read them even he did, and Squeak never, ever, had any idea what was happening when the loud whistling began from the sky, when the sirens went off, when the ground shook, and the world was full of heat and pain.

Squeak had no idea that he had been caught in an atomic bomb blast.

Act Five: Hamsterus

hamsterusSqueak’s fur vaporized. His blood boiled in his veins. The little hamster was irradiated, exploded, and every cell destroyed.

Yet he didn’t die.

His fur turned to thick, rough hide. His little claws grew longer and tougher. He grew bigger and bigger, stronger and stronger, and meaner and meaner. The atomic bomb test in the Arizona desert turned little Squeak into a giant monster, with eyes that shot laser beams of death and a mouth that breathed fire. His skin was tough as tank armor. And his mind was full of hate.

Hate for the world! Hate for his cruel transformation! But most of all, hate for Little Bobby Simmons. It was his fault, all is fault! All along Bobby had pretended to like Squeak, but he was the one that left the cage door open, he was the one who made it possible for Squeak to get out, all Bobby’s fault that Squeak was caught in an atomic bomb test.

Yes, all Bobby’s fault, and squeak would have his revenge.

No, not Squeak. Squeak was dead. In his place existed only a giant monster, 300 feet tall. Squeak was dead, Hamsterus lived!

Act Six: Squeak Comes Home.

“Bobby!” Hamsterus raged! “WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME?!?!?!?”  Hamsterus reared back on his hind legs and with fast, determined strides, turned to the bright lights of the city, smoke steaming out of his snout, anger and destruction dripping from every pore.

Little Bobby Simmons had been inconsolable since Squeak ran away. He looked all over the house and with his little flashlight he looked in every hole and tree nook on his block. With his last bit of allowance money, Bobby made posters and put them up all over town. He missed his little friend Squeak and wished with all his heart that he would come home. Suddenly, as he was riding his bike down the block, he heard his mother’s frantic voice calling him home.

“What is it mom?”
“Bobby! Get home right away! We have to get out of here!”

Bobby pedaled home and his mother was frantically stuffing clothes into his knapsack. “We have to get out of here!”

Bobby had no idea what was going on, but he looked at the television playing in the living room and he saw something out of a monster movie. The army and air force was fighting a giant, fire-breathing hamster. The creature’s eyes shot lasers that destroyed tanks, and his fiery breath melted the planes in the sky. A twitch of his whiskers wiped out a whole battalion of soldiers.

“Squeak! Mommy, Squeak is coming home!” 

And even as Bobby said it, he could feel the ground shaking as Hamsterus entered the town limits. The television showed his neighbors running in the streets, panicking, cars crashing into each other out of control. His mother grabbed him and dragged him outside. They started running but Bobby had no idea where they were going. He could hear screaming, and planes flying overheard. The air was filled with the shouts of soldiers trying to direct the people out of danger, and other soliders’ screams of pain as they died under the clawed feet of Hamsterus. Bobby smelled smoke in the air, he felt the vibrations as homes were crushed and even the school was knocked down by the awesome strength of Hamsterus.

His mother stumbled and fell, dragging Bobby down with her. She tried to get up, but her ankle was twisted and she could not move.

“Bobby, run! Save yourself!”

But it was too late. As Bobby looked at his other, tears in his eyes, he saw Hamsterus looming over his head above the trees.

Hamsterus looked down at the boy. “Bobby!”

Act Seven: Requiem For A Hamster.

Hamsterus saw Bobby and, with evil in his beady black eyes, reached down and lifted the boy into the air.

“Squeak! What happened to you?”
“It was you! All you! You did this to me! You left my cage open and now you must die!”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “I love you Squeak.”

Hamsterus leaned down, smoke billowing around his head. “Time to die Bobby!”

Suddenly, out of the crowd darted the famous Dr. Shigezawa, Professor of Radiation at Nanking University, clutching something to close to his chest. It was too far for Bobby to see what happened, but it seemed that just as Hamsterus was about to eat him in his savage maw, the device let out some sort of strange beam and a high pitched whine. Hamsterus began to shrink.

Bobby fell out of the beast’s clutches and from the street watched as the colossal creature grew smaller and shrank, and as he got smaller the evil seemed to leave his eyes. And once he was tiny again, Bobby knew that Squeak had come home. He rushed over and picked up his beloved pet.

“Squeak! Oh, Squeak, tell me you’ll be OK!”

Squeak looked up at him and, through glassy eyes, saw the boy he loved. And then he died.

Bobby’s mom, now back on her feet, walked unsteadily back to Bobby and out her arms around her son.

“Bobby, I hope this teaches you a lesson. You’re just not responsible enough to take care of a pet. Now go to your room.”

—————————–

Well guys, there you have the gist of it. I really think this can be a hit at the box office and I already have a sequel lined up, called Gerbilicus. Help me out, please. This is better than 95% of what I found on Kickstarter.

My Memories of Little Red Riding Hood

19 Jul

July 19, 2012

Once upon a time there was a little girl. Amazing, right? Like who would think that in all of history there was ever a little girl and believe it or not, she lived in the woods. Nobody ever lived in a rundown apartment over a liquor shop back then.  Seriously, a little girl who lives in the woods in a fairy tale is like leaves on a tree. Big deal. I can look out my window and see leaf after leaf. I can probably also look out my window and see little girl after little girl but I won’t. A man my age who looks out his window at little girls is a sure bet to wind up on the sex offender registry.

Anyway, this particular little girl was named Little Red Riding Hood. That may be hard to believe but there was actually a time long ago when it was common to name people after items of clothing. Her mother was named Plaid Socks and her father was named Old Denim Overalls. She also had a cousin named Pants with Stinky Brown Stain on Rear.

Little Red Riding Hood, whose last name was Schwartz, lived in the woods. This is not the same woods as the one in Snow White or Pinocchio, though they were all run by the same management company. In fact there were about 30 different woods and in each the ogres were threatening to go on strike. Little Red was a cute and sweet young girl. In fact she was too cute and sweet. She was so sweet you couldn’t stand her. Little Red was like one of those cute kids in a Stephen King novel whom you couldn’t stand but you’d keep reading because you knew she’d get killed in some horrible way, like the baby in Pet Semetary. But not only was Little Red cute and sweet, she was also kind and generous and good-hearted. Everyone hated her. Even Mother Theresa once slapped her.

Here is a typical page from her daily planner:

-wake up
-milk the cows
-massage the cows
-dress the cows in pretty dresses

And that’s just before 8am.

On this particular day Red took some time out of her busy schedule to bring a basket of food to her sick grandmother. Grandma lived even deeper in the woods, all alone. Great idea for a frail old woman, right? Anyway, she was sick so Red decided to bring her enough food to last a week. I would have brought her a Medic Alert bracelet and some aspirin too.

The woods were full of wolves. Big, hungry, ravenous, sexually repressed wolves. What? Didn’t think I’d go there? Fairy tales are full of hidden sexual imagery.  Think Rumplestiltskin wasn’t freaky like Chris Brown? Yeah, some wolf beat up Rihanna too.

So there was Little Red Riding Hood, skipping along through the woods singing along to Gotye when just when she got to “But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough” (yes that song is that old. Gotye stole it from a German folk tale) a wolf leaped out of the trees and demanded “open the door and let me in or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!” Clearly he was in the wrong place. Seeing his mistake he politely apologized and left.

No sooner had he left than another wolf leapt out and demanded the picnic basket. Back then wolves would wait in line for a shot at a picnic basket. He snarled. He showed his fangs. He waved his claws. His fur bristled, his teeth glistened, even his busy tail was somehow menacing.

Little Red Riding Hood smiled and, being so sweet and obnoxiously good-natured, gave him the basket, kissed the wolf on the snout, and turned around and skipped back home, singing Lady Gaga all the way. And poor granny? She was still starving.

Later, the wolf took the basket back home to his den. Lair? Nest? Where do wolves live anyway? The point is, he ripped open the basket and found it full of nothing but Ensure, Metamucil, and more adult diapers than you would expect. After all, Granny wasn’t about to digest a T-bone steak at her age. This did nothing to slake the wolf’s appetite. He trashed the basket but he kept the diapers. The wolf was getting on in years, you know.

The next day the wolf decided to get even with Red. He’d guzzled a week’s worth of Granny’s Ensure and went into body failure. He showed up on Grandma’s doorstep and rang the bell. He claimed to be selling subscriptions to Vibe magazine. Granny wasn’t interested and didn’t open the door. The wolf decided that being sneaky was getting him nowhere so he jumped through the window and ate her. Honestly, he’s a wolf. Why didn’t he do that to begin with?

After completing various good deeds, like washing a leper’s feet and knitting scarves for bald sheep, Little Red Riding Hood Schwartz once again brought a basket to Grandma’s house. She knocked on the door and a strange, high-pitched growl that would fool absolutely no one but this silly kid said “come on in, the door is open.” 

She went in and there, in the inky shadows, was what looked like a wolf in Granny’s bed. See? I told you fairy tales were full of sexual imagery. Let me lay this out for you: The wolf was trying to lure the girl into bed. There’s a reason why men who hit on every woman in sight are called wolves.

Meanwhile, how dumb is Red? Be realistic, would you be fooled if you saw a dog in bed instead of a human being? Of course not. Even if your dog could talk and looked cute in a sweater you’d knit her, you’d still recognize that it’s a dog. So what was Little Red Riding Hood’s problem? Sheesh. I think she needed glasses. You know what comes next.

“My Grandma, what big ears you have!”
“The better to hear you my dear.”
“My Grandma, what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you, my dear.”
“My Grandma, what big teeth you have!”
“Oh screw this shit!” And the wolf leaped out of the bed and tore Little Red Riding Hood to pieces.

A passing lumberjack heard Little Red Riding Hood’s screams and came to rescue her. Guess what? The wolf ate him too.

The moral of the story? A wolf will eat you. Avoid wolves.

———————–

Can you stand more?

Read My Memories of Cinderella here.

Read My Memories of Snow White here.

Read My Memories of The Boy Who Cried Wolf here.

Read My Memories of Pinocchio here