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How we found Jesus (Other) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS - MORNING. Baby-birds sing as cherry-tree blossoms cascade down upon a dew-slick pathway that four young men are slowly and deliberately meandering along. None of them seem to be in any particular hurry. All around, faculty and students mill about rushing. As a Chapel bell tolls eight methodical dongs. The young men abruptly stop to talk and smoke. Oblivious to the others, the tallest in the bunch yawns while looking for their sweet morning ritual. MATHEW 24, begins to curse and clutch at his breast pockets. MARK 21, LUKE 22, and ZEIK 19, watch with a shared interest at his bitching and frustrated search. MATHEW God dammit! MARK What? MATHEW I think I lost the joint. LUKE Ah, than what’s this? Luke produces a joint from behind his ear. Twirls it around, and has it in his mouth lit before anyone can think to argue. MARK Thank you lord! Let there be light. And there was light. And the light was good. LUKE Gentlemen, prophets, faggots, and Zeik. Here’s to your health. Not to mention, Dr. Necro’s theology class first thing in the morning. For what can only be eternity. Luke takes a huge hit then quickly passes it to Mathew. LUKE (Still holding his breath and turning blue) Did you guys know that marijuana helps your immune system fight against fourteen known strains of bacteria, and three variations of the common cold Rhinovirus? Mathew grabs the joint from Luke and pushes him backwards. MATHEW Thanks, I’ll remember that as I’m dying from lung cancer genius. Here’s something even better for you to chew on Mr. Head Shop Botanist. (Turning to Zeik) Could you light up a couple more cigarettes? for Christ’s sake. (Back to Luke) You ever wonder why when you’re trying to be sneaky you’re a bust, but if you do it out in the open with no fear, nobody ever takes notice? It’s almost magically invisible to do gooders. Mathew hits the joint then passes it to Mark. Mark takes a long drag then gives it to Zeik. Who then hot boxes it as Mark closes his eyes while holding his toke lost in shallow thought. MARK (Serious and curious) As a matter of fact, yeah, why is that? MATHEW Simple, everyone’s either in to much of a hurry, or just to busy to care. The Irony is marrow less. ZEIK (Red eyed and zoning out) No, my mother is moral less. LUKE I thought she was dead? ZEIK (Zoning with joint) She was. I mean is... that is. LUKE "Is that is"? Whatever Hedley Smurf. Luke takes the joint out of Zeik’s hand then tweaks his nipple, and laughs sardonically while dancing a jig. He then hilariously, and perfectly, does his best Jack Nicholson. LUKE “You’d better slow down kid. You’re beginning to make me a little dizzy. If ya catch my meaning”. MATHEW (Laughing with the others) We better get outta here before Necro locks us out. poach it and Roach it Luke. Luke flicks the cherry off the roach and pockets it. They head towards a very Gothicly - Masonic detailed building. Complete with tarnished green copper arches and chipped morphing ancient gargoyles. CUT TO: INT. CLASSROOM - MORNING. The guys enter Dr. Necro’s theology class about five minutes late in single file. Trying to be inconspicuous and very tiny, they beeline it for their seats submissively. All eyes are upon them as they enter and sit. Especially Dr. Necro, who burns them alive with his intense Ozzy Osborne stare. He pulls down a rolling chart rigidly. The chart has various instruments of torture used throughout history. Chronologically dated and complete with footnotes. Several students swallow hard as Necro pulls out his trusty famous warped maple wood pointer. DR. NECRO PAIN! Can be applied, and has been applied both very creatively and quite often throughout written, and unwritten history. Notice. Necro pauses for effect then viciously thwaps the chart. Scaring most of the class high off of their desk seats. DR. NECRO Two thousand years ago Jesus Christ of Nazareth found that fact out first hand. Would that be safe to say Mr. Lincoln? MATHEW Caught off guard while staring at a blond cheerleader in the corner of the room blowing big hot pink bubbles in oblivious well trained repetition. Huh? I mean sure, give or take a year of course. DR. NECRO EXCELLENT! FANTASTIC! And which one of these devices -- Jubilently wacking the chart out of a need to Emphasize. -- in front of us was used for these ghastly inflictions? MATHEW The cross. He was crucified. Martyred by his people. DR. NECRO And what exactly does that symbolically mean to you Mr. Mathew Lincoln 24, from Pasadena, California. The third largest state in this great young free nation of ours? Mathew freezes up on the spot. Embarrassed, time seems to slow down as he starts to sweat, and fidget. Stoned, and a bit paranoid he seems almost reluctant to speak but then hesitantly does. MATHEW That I get to go to heaven? Student’s giggle and hoot in spontaneous defiant bursts. DR. NECRO Precisely, or hell for that matter. If you believe there is such a place. (Sinister yellow smile) Then again, what if there is no where to go? Just a silence filled void, minus all light. The reciprocal of consciousness. Anti-consciousness, anti-matter, what then Mr. Kennedy? Mathew relieved at having the spotlight temporarily removed from himself looks over at Mark. To see how he is going to handle this one off the cuff ofmwhat is sure to be an immediate THC panic attack. Mark stares unblinking at the chart beside Mr. Necro either too scared to answer, or just really high and daydreaming. A patch of druel slowly collecting on his stained collar. Luke, trying to help, kicks his leg hard under his desk. MARK Ouch! Fuck me asshole! DR. NECRO Surprisingly pleased by his unlucky and confused target. Collects himself for a manicured and condescending reply. Yes, we might indeed be “fucked” as you most eloquently put it post dribble. A bit vague, but it’ll do, for now. MARK (To Luke) Thanks a bunch dick. LUKE (Whispering) Don’t mention it Captain Salivator. DR. NECRO I would like to team the class up into seven groups of four for your final assignment this semester. Which coincidentally, will make-up 75% of your final grades. (Weatherman smirk) Dr. Necro puts his pointer away in his desk, and pulls hard on the chart sending it flying up and spinning about itself cartoon like. He continues on not missing a precious beat. DR. NECRO The task at hand? To discover Jesus, or any martyr that is important to you spiritually for that matter, 'within yourselves', and to document the experience. Using a story like structure for an oral and visual presentation, but on film, or 'DVD', if you will. It doesn’t particularly matter to me as long as a week from now we have some means, 'as a class', to view your experiences here together visually, and audibly. Zeik raises his hand timidly, and a bit awkwardly. Dr. Necro gives him a nod, okaying him to go ahead and proceed with his most assuredly ridiculous question. ZEIK But what if we can’t find Jesus? A beat, then silence, Luke begins laughing, the class follows in suit. Zeik’s eyes well up, and his face goes beet red. His knuckles turn white as he squeezes the sides of his desk with a slight but noticable tremor. DR. NECRO (Patchy grin) Well Zeik, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll find you. Or, you could always just man the camera. Just don’t hurt or over exert yourself or anyone else for that matter. CUT TO: A DARK IRISH PUB ON MAIN ST. LATE - NIGHT. A television reporter is giving the latest update on a high-speed chase in progress on the 5 freeway heading south towards Mexico. “Apparently”, she says. “Doing this is very trendy now amongst the attention deprived and the bored.”. It’s now 1:30 AM that same day. In the pub Luke and Zeik are perched at the bar watching the news. Luke is getting drunk while Zeik eggs him on with steady shots of Jaeger. Mathew and Mark are throwing darts with a couple of freshmen sorority sisters that have fake ID’s and Catholic schoolgirl outfits on still. From the all girl academy across from the College. Visually, it’s a fantasy come true for all involved. LUKE Just look at those two lucky bastards for the love of God. Zeik, we should run and get the camera. This could go amateur porn before the night is over. Lucky pricks. He hiccups, and almost falls out of his seat trying to smell himself while checking for a hint of body-odor. ZEIK My mom went to an all girls Catholic school. He pauses, then eats a hand full of dyed BBQ peanuts. She was never married though. LUKE Dude, you’re starting to seriously concern me. Takes a swig of beer and belches majestically proud. How’d you get here than? Star child, Krishna Krishna, Rosemary’s baby? Coccooning with Steven Gutenberg? ZEIK My mom says an Incubus raped her. You know Immaculate Conception. Poltergeist penetrations. The semen of God in the cupped hands of the Holy Ghost. (Deadpan to quirky smile) LUKE Shit bros, that’s pretty fucking dark. I’m sorry to hear that. (Beat) But really? ZEIK Swear it. Motions to the bartender for more peanuts and their tab. CUT TO: A dart hits the bull's-eye as half of the bar goes nuts in shock and celebration. Mathew has just thrown with his back to the board. Mark grabs his head clearly blown away and drunk then falls to his knees upon the peanut shelled floor. MARK UN FUCKING Believable! You’ve been possessed by Robin Hood's gay aim. I call the bet on grounds of divine intervention. Sorry I just can’t pay up on this hail Mary. MATHEW (Calm and collected) Cough it up. Vente dollars por vavor mi amigo. Gentlemen, never re-nig when impressing ladies. MARK Fine. But you’re buying the next round, and the one after that and so on until graduation. -- He hands Matt the money, but clearly no longer impressed. -- Unreal, that was the oddest thing I’ve ever seen please smack me and call me Clementine. They turn around and return to their booth. The girls are thrilled by the attention of the moment and are practically already in love. You can see it in their eyes, and flirtatious posture. MARY I would have never guessed that you were so talented, and smart too. Can you hit anything you want anytime like that? She reaches for his hand then gives him a kiss on the lips. Matthew looks over at Mark with an ear-to-ear piefaced grin. MARK (To his date shyly) I taught him that one. Pointing to the dart board matter of factly. SARAH You must be a very gifted instructor Do you teach just any one your moves? Sarah starts to nibble upon Mark’s ear and whisper to him. Unseen by anyone, Mark mouths the word’s “thank you lord”. Luke walks up rubbing his eyes out of amazement and spite. LUKE I’m fucking starving drunk. You guys are starving to fuck. And Zeik, might be the Antichrist. So lets all compromise, and go to Denny’s before it's to late to care any more. -- -- Lights up a cigarette and blows a fat swirling halo. So what do you guys say? CUT TO: FADE IN: DENNY’S SIGN EARLY MORNING PRE-DAWN. From outside you can see the entire entourage eating while Zeik, and Luke, harass their squat tattooed waitress “Alice”, with bad Eskimo jokes. Alice, stepping on Zeik’s foot, spills coffee onto his arm abruptly and without any remorse or the expected signs of concern. ALICE GOOD Lordy, gracious me. Did I just do that? Sir, I do apologize. I can be so clumsy when I work a double. Alice bends down and dabs a napkin in cold water to apply to Zeik's arm. Zeik pulls his arm away and offers her his other arm robotically emotionless. ZEIK Here, you missed the one I use to finger food your twelve fatherless children through Special Ed at the Rec. Center -- (Reading her name-tag) -- “ALICE”. ALICE What? Are you suppose to be intimidating, or into that sick kinda cult Shit? Fuck you kid, my two year old takes shits scarier than you and your tv polluted imagination. Alice flicks the napkin at him then burns his other arm. She walks away snickering. Zeik jumps up and runs into the bathroom shrieking. Luke falls to the ground laughing and choking. MATHEW What the fuck Luke? That shit isn’t funny. He should sue that Eskimo cunt, and this bullshit sit down version of a McDonalds for junior college part time night students desperate for a higher education in the field of Medical assistance. -- Raises his voice in the direction of her and the manager. -- You’d better go check on him? His condition, remember? LUKE What? Oh, yeah. Hee hee hey maybe you’re right, He is a Hemophiliac after all. (Getting the subtext) I should go help him take his meds. Luke takes off into the bathroom to tell Zeik the plan. MARY Boy, your friend’s are sure... odd. What’s with the nihilistic attitude on the weird one? MATHEW Who Zeik? Nah, he’s fine. He's no Nihilist, he's an closet case Athiest. He’s just gearing up to finally find Jesus. MARK Hey Matt, this is the last supper. Think about it. Because tomorrow, and for two days after, we find Jesus, and then duh duh duh da enlightenment upon Calvary. MATHEW In a way you’re kind of right, but if that’s the case than who’s Judas, where’s Pilot, and who all dies again? Half amused by his own drunken inside stab at comedy. SARAH So, you’re going to need your rest I guess, huh? Sarah puts her hand on his lap under the table, and smiles devilishly. MARK (Eyes bulging) Yes siree. I think so, immediately. Luke and Zeik return from the bathroom. Zeik is elated. The waitress returns back to the table with the bill and some melting mints. ZEIK Well guys what should we do about the tipless Inuit? (Picks up the bill) Should I sue this fucking ugly dwarf, or the Denny's? Decisions, decisions. I Know! How about we make today my birthday. Better yet, I think today is everybody’s fucking Birthday. Zeik hands the bill back to Alice. She catches a glimpse of his blistering skin, and a darkness within his eyes that she had strangely missed before. ZEIK Is that alright with you Alice? Or should we call in the Jewish legal swat team to secure my new promise land, and your old job, while I reduce this place to a Winchell's donut shop? ALICE Sure thing. Ah, I'll take care of it. It was an accident I swear. Happy Birthday. No harm no foul? (Worried) LUKE (To Alice) You’re dismissed now. (To the group) Big day tomorrow fellows, let’s call it a night 'fore light. Luke, gets up grabs a mint and pulls is underwear out of his ass. Gives Alice a big wet kiss before doing a Daffy duck out the front door and into the night. The others follow Luke’s lead. All kissing Alice Like their long lost aunt bearing warm oatmeal cookies and milk. The couples hold hands while leaving while Zeik gives Alice the Evil-eye on his way out following the others. They can hear Luke some ways ahead raving and ranting away in the shadows, about mushrooms, mountains, and inevitable salvation. To be Continued.

Up the ladder: Nina Simone (part one)
Down the ladder: Dashboard Jesus

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Arithmetic Mean: 8.181818
Weighted score: 6.590909
Overall Rank: 612
Posted: August 10, 2003 8:31 AM PDT; Last modified: August 10, 2003 9:37 AM PDT
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thepinkbunnyofdoom

Comments:
[9] Caducus @ 195.92.168.165 | 10-Aug-03/3:14 PM | Reply
A blast !

I loved the way you worked the chapter and verse from the bible with there ages. Its very long but in this case holds the interest. Lots of fun in this (the bell, the cherry tree and heres one of your own Q-Tip awards for ....aahh fuck it, just for picturing you bleat this out thru bluecollar, poet and street verse balladier.

eL NiNO
9
[n/a] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 > Caducus | 10-Aug-03/9:08 PM | Reply
All of their last names are favourite presidents also. Thanks, By the way Shardik's recent poem mentions pig appling. Please don't be offended. It's meant in general.
[10] thepinkbunnyofdoom @ 24.209.21.223 | 10-Aug-03/7:50 PM | Reply
Without a doubt, a masterpiece. That was Ace. -10-
[10] Lifeboatman @ 202.78.97.13 | 10-Aug-03/8:00 PM | Reply
don't leave us hanging.. i want to find Jesus too.. 10
[10] SupremeDreamer @ 204.31.182.137 | 10-Aug-03/8:59 PM | Reply
lmao. so when are you going to write a book? ;P 10
[n/a] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 > SupremeDreamer | 10-Aug-03/9:50 PM | Reply
As soon as I have the confidence and discipline that a task of that nature requires. I have quite a few short storys in progress now. We'll see what they evolve into. I think I'll have about five scripts under my arm soon. Unfortunately, on friday I recieved a devastating blow by losing a script rewrite deal for 20,000$ I was really counting on it to live on, and support me and my family while I was working on my top secret vehicle currently called "Shen~Ring" at the same time (Something me and my friend wrote for me to star in and pitch to Miramax) I also wanted to finish my autobiography and memoires, and edit together some tight poetry manuscripts of my best work for competition, but I really need an editor and a literary agent to do that and even a lot of the other stuff too as far as my writing goes. So I'm shopping around for that currently. Now that I am recovering from the shock of working so long and hard on a piece for free in order to earn a long term secure writing job at a reputable production company and join society? And then the floor goes bye bye. So I just don't know when now. Thank god I have a movie role approaching to concentrate on for a friend of mine at AFI, and my music and songwriting offers fabulous opportunities to just take off and play the blues and ride in dirty vans and busses for crap money shit booze and stepped on drugs out of the hand of stepped on Back stage daughter and over made up mothers in acid wash jeans with mullets. that's always a gas. It helps to get away from the swollen testicles and wrinkled cunts of the older literary circles that are constantly taking my legs out from under me because, they are afraid of letting go of their utter unimaginative poorly observed poetic stylings that are absolutely doing nothing that history has come to expect from poetry. There hasn't been a real poet around since DA Levy died in Cleveland. Now these old farts won't even let go for a second. It's a pattern of paying your dues that's timeless and riddled with Buggers, Old money, Nepatism and constant favours for friends while the rest of us just wait for a slot with our thumb up a Jews ass drinking Latte Soy thing a ma bobbys. I just laugh about how funny it's going to be as their rights are stripped from them year after year by corrupt politicians while they are all still oblivious and playing cribbage and writing about birds and their stupid fucking Ivy league brats and the club house. Enjoy it while you can and thank god for Alzheimers.
[10] SupremeDreamer @ 204.31.170.184 > <{Baba^Yaga}> | 10-Aug-03/11:31 PM | Reply
well, dont worry, editors that hold onto the old days will soon die gasping about them beautiful years back in 1930. Then they will be replaced by 20 year olds who dont mind the new stuff, and you'll be releasing your works to the masses.
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