Lesson 8

[Ian Patrick Williams]

What I learned from this assignment is to try out as many punchlines as possible.
Genre: comedy
Title: Unaccountable
Concept: A mild-mannered accountant must navigate a corrupt hip hop world when a gangsta rapper/ music mogul forcibly recruits him to cook the books of his criminal empire before an upcoming audit.
Scene: Rap impresario MC SLAUGHTER has his two henchmen PRETTY BOI and BUSTA NUTT dangle young rapper DELAWARE WASHINGTON out of his penthouse window in an effort to get him so sign an exclusive contract to DJ at his club.
MC SLAUGHTER: “What you say, Del? How you feelin’?”
DEL:
Absurd Request: “All my blood’s rushing to my head. Could one of you give me a neck rub?”
Comparison: “Kind of like a baby bird about to be kicked out of the nest.”
Exaggeration: “I would have pooped my pants by now but I think gravity is holding it in.”
Insult: “I’m feeling like I want to kick your ass but these guys are holding my legs.”
Metaphor: “I keep telling myself it’s bungee jumping! Except there’s no cord.”
Misinterpretation: “You mean, feeling emotionally toward you?”
Parody; (singing “Feelings…nothing more than feelings…”
Reversal: “Why don’t you join me out here and feel for yourself.”
Understatement: “Well, it’s only a ten story drop.”
Tired of waiting, MC turns to his men. PRETTY BOI is muscular but presents feminine; Busta Nutt presents mean but is secretly sickened by violence
MC SLAUGHTER: “Have it your way, Del. Let him go!”
Absurd Request BUSTA (to PRETTY) “You drop him; I’m getting nauseous just looking down.”
Comparison: “It’s kind of like dropping someone off your friend list…only permanently.”
Exaggeration: “Tomorrow, millions of people are gonna know who you were.”
Insult: “Bitch, we gonna drop you like a bad habit!”
Metaphor: “You said you wanted to make a big splash, didn’t you?”
Misinterpretation: “Does he mean ‘let him go’ like he can leave now?”
Parody: “Do you know the lyrics to ‘Fly Like an Eagle’?
Rename: “Maybe change your name to ‘Elevator’ ‘cause you goin’ down!”
Reversal: Do you think we could maybe throw him up to the roof?”
Understatement: “We could say it was suicide but he’ll probably scream all the way down.”
The men pull him in to sign
MC SLAUGHTER: Smart decision. But Del is kind of a punk name. We need somethin’ with swagger. How about…DeLinkwent?”
Del:
Absurd Request: “Let me ask my mom.”
Comparison: “Better than MC Scumbag.”
Exaggeration: “It’ll be an inspiration to young hoodlums everywhere.”
Insult: “Slaughterhouse records? Is that ‘cause you kill good music?”
Misinterpretation: “Delinquent? You mean, like late returning a library card?”
Parody: “Yeah and my first name can be Juvenile.”
Rename: “What about Lord Gaga so Lady Gaga and I could tour together?”
Reversal: “I was thinking you could rename yourself: MT as in empty.”
Understatement: “It’s nice that you’re giving me a choice.”
EXT. BUILDING – NIGHT
A man’s SCREAM is heard. Near the top of the building, someone is dangling.
INT. PENTHOUSE – NIGHT
Rap impresario MC SLAUGHTER has his two henchmen PRETTY BOI and BUSTA NUTT dangle young DJ DELAWARE WASHIHGTON out of his penthouse window. Pretty Boi is muscular but presents feminine; Busta Nutt presents mean but is secretly sickened by violence.
DEL: Help!!!
Slaughter smokes a cigar and calls out to the man.
MC SLAUGHTER: What you say, Del? How you feelin’?
DEL: Uh…I would have pooped my pants by now but I think gravity is holding it in!
MC SLAUGHTER: Well, say the word and my boys will haul you back in. Ready to sign?
DEL: But I want to be independent…I don’t want to be with one club forever.
MC SLAUGHTER: That’s the wrong answer. I don’t like it when people say ‘no’, Del. What’s it gonna be?
DEL: Come on MC, let me go!
(to his men)
MC SLAUGHTER: You heard the man—let him go!
He turs away.
DEL: NO!
BUSTA (to Pretty Boi): Does he mean ‘let him go’ like…he can leave now?
PRETTY BOI: I don’t think so.
BUSTA: Well, you drop him; I’m getting nauseous just lookin’ down.
PRETTY BOI: Oh come on, Busta, man up! (to Del) Bitch, you betta sign or we gonna drop you like a bad habit!
They let him drop a few inches.
DEL: Stop!!!
PRETTY BOI: Oh shit, yeah, stop.
BUSTA: Why?
PRETTY BOI: I just broke a nail! (to Del) Look what you made me do!
DEL: I’m sorry!
PRETTY BOI: You better be sorry! You know how much these cost me?
MC SLAUGHTER: Are you two girls done? I said, drop him like a sick beat!
BUSTA: I think I’m going to be sick
PRETTY BOI: Just think of it like dropping someone off your friend list…only permanently (to Del) Sorry man, but you did say you wanted to make a big splash.
They start to let go and Del screams.
DEL: OK OK, I’ll sign!!!
The two men re-grab him and look at Slaughter; he waves to bring Del back in. Inside, Del falls to his knees and tries to catch his breath.
MC SLAUGHTER: Smart decision. Now get over here and sign this.
He places a contract and pen on the table.
MC SLAUGHTER (CONT’D) But Delaware is kind of a punk name for a DJ We need somethin’ with swagger. How about…DeL…Del…Delinkwent?
DEL: Can I ask my mom?
Slaughter looks at him incredulously. His men shrug.
PRETTY BOI: Well, his mama did name him.
MC SLAUGHTER: I said HOW ABOUT DELINKWENT?
BUSTA: Dope name!
PRETTY BOI: Fabulous!
DEL: Yeah OK. Whatever.
He signs.
MC SLAUGHTER: God boy. Now go home and start thinkin’ up some new beats for my crowd.
Del slinks out.
MC SLAUGHTER: Now why can’t every negotiation go that well?
He puffs on his cigar while his men shrug and nod.

[Jodie Randisi]

What I learned: I need to repeat this exercise until I laugh out loud. Dumping the bad ideas leads to good ones.
GENRE: Buddy comedy
CONCEPT: Opposites are forced to work together so an industrial psychologist can study them in the cutthroat coastal real estate world of Pamperus Island.

INT. CHIP LEFKOWITZ’S SCENT LAB – PAMPRUS ISLAND MANSION – DAY
The space looks like Versailles collided with an apothecary. Velvet drapes. A MASSIVE portrait of Chip in a silk robe hangs above a marble fireplace. His pose? Reclined. His gaze? Smoldering.

CHIP "THE NOSE" LEFKOWITZ (50s) floats into the room, wearing a tailored lavender smoking jacket and a single leather glove. He carries an atomizer like a weapon. He points to two armchairs facing opposite directions.

ELIZABETH
What is this? Is this some kind of scent-based scavenger hunt?
CHIP
More like a duel. Smell, then sell. You must prove you are able to recognize affluence and can distinguish it from, say… laminate flooring or a 17-year marriage on its last leg.

Chip claps twice. An assistant wheels in a velvet tray holding 12 unmarked amber bottles and two silk blindfolds.

CHIP
This, friends, is The Test of Twelve Notes. May the best nose win.

MONTAGE: “THE TEST” – QUICK CUTS

ELIZABETH (grimacing before sniffing)
If only this were Bergamot. This one smells like the inside of a Pilates instructor’s glove compartment… in August.

LOVIE (smiling) Mmm. Smells like a middle school dance. Axe Body Spray with a healthy dose of future heartbreak.

CHIP Accurate. It’s patchouli, cedar… and a whisper of regret, like… I’m not getting any regret.

Elizabeth coughs after inhaling a mystery note.
ELIZABETH Is this… microwave popcorn and printer toner?

CHIP
That is a synthetic disaster I call “Mall Divorce.”

Lovie gets emotional after sniffing another.
LOVIE This has to be … from the Bitch Barrington’s attic. Smells like mimosas on a fur coat.

CHIP Amazing. I call this one ‘Existential Crisis at Brunch’. You’re a scent empath and I’m obsessed. And this one?

LOVIE Infused with hints of student debt and sandalwood?

CHIP Interesting. It’s part of my limited-edition ‘Daddy Issues’ collection. Next.

ELIZABETH (with confidence) This is definitely jasmine.

LOVIE Elizabeth, your palate is so pedestrian. It’s two mortgages infused with West Elm arrogance.

CHIP So close. Melted Bath & Body Works lotion and shame. But thank you for playing.

Chip places one last vial in front of them.

CHIP
This is the final test. If either of you identifies this scent, you win the listing.

They both inhale.

ELIZABETH
Dior. No, no—Tom Ford. Definitely something exclusive. Leather-forward, mysterious—

LOVIE
(taking her time)
…It’s grief. Bottled grief. But wrapped in satin and carried through a forest in Provence.
You named it… “Elegy for the Ego.”

CHIP
(tearing up)
My God. You felt it.

CHIP
(turns to Elizabeth)
You reek of stress. It needed to be said.

ELIZABETH
(snaps)
Who are you? What gives you the right…?

CHIP
(beat)
Homeowner.

EXT. CHIP'S MANSION – MOMENTS LATER
Elizabeth storms out, still barefoot, muttering about lawsuits and diffusers. Lovie stays behind.

LOVIE
(cheerfully)
Do you validate for spiritual alignment?

CHIP (O.S.)
Only if you sage the foyer on your way out.

• This reply was modified 1 week, 5 days ago by  Jodie Randisi.