FOREWORD: If you've never seen this movie, don't bother reading on. If you've seen it only a few times, don't bother reading on. This is strictly for die-hard fans of Plan 9, who can recite every line of dialogue like parrots.
The worst movie of all time? Only a fool would call it that. One of the best, actually. Certainly the greatest unintentional comedy of all time. This is my take on it, something I'd written about a decade ago in an almost stream-of-consciousness manner, which is I guess how Ed wrote as well. Hence why so much of it is utter bull - just like the movie itself.
And BEVARE... there is much rude, sexually explicit bullshit, foul language and the like.
Plan 9 From
Outer Space
"My friends, before you start laughing at this mighty picture, let us look at the future, for that is where me and this cast shall spend the rest of our lives buried in shame… My friends, can you stand the shocking truth about a director so insane that he tickled Tor while he was asleep?...
 |
| My friends… This
movie is based on the sworn testimony of the miserable souls who passed the
auditions for this movie!... Those were stupid, stupid minds. Stupid!... You
are interested in the unknown, the mysterious, the unexplainably silly, and you
want to laugh at us – for that is why you pressed play on your DVD!...
Finding a mess
like this ought to make anyone frightened.
And yet: you laugh! Why, my friends?
Why?..
But remember, my
friends, future ridiculing, such as this, will effect those in the future! They
will hear you laugh and then take out the movie themselves and laugh. And that
is not fair!..."
|
 |
| "My friends, can you prove this film exists? Yes: it is hard to believe it was ever made…" |
A Small Town... I'll Admit
"Are you
going to have a very silly conversation with a superior now, sir?"
"Yes. He will
threaten me with court martial for believing in UFOs."
"But you're
the head of Saucer Activity, sir!"
"Sure I am.
That's why I have to believe in something and shoot at it."
"So you
believe in flying saucers, sir?"
"Sure."
"So there are flying saucers then…?"
"Of course!
What do you think we were shooting at just now?"
"Why, we were
just shooting at a couple of clouds, sir. Standard practice."
"Those clouds
are a menace."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It's
been covered up by the higher echelons, just so us middle echelons wouldn't know about it, but we middle echelons always find out things and then tell lower echelons about it."
"Am I the lower echelon then?"
"Come to think of it, you're not even an echelon."
"Well, I guess that's why you're the middle echelon and I'm just a uniformed non-echelon who knows nothing about the dangers of clouds."
"Those clouds attacked a small town – a Mexican town, I'll admit – but still a town with people, even if they are only Mexicans – people who died."
"Am I the lower echelon then?"
"Come to think of it, you're not even an echelon."
"Well, I guess that's why you're the middle echelon and I'm just a uniformed non-echelon who knows nothing about the dangers of clouds."
"Those clouds attacked a small town – a Mexican town, I'll admit – but still a town with people, even if they are only Mexicans – people who died."
"Died of what?"
"Snow."
"Snow?"
"Mexicans had never seen snow. They found it extremely funny, and died laughing."
"Was it as funny as Plan 9?"
"To Mexicans it was."
"Was it as funny as Plan 9?"
"To Mexicans it was."
**********
Is it MAD?...
 |
| "Mad?!... Is it mad to produce movies on a shoe-string budget? Yet you have done this!... Is it mad to cast an all-American bimbo housewife like me as an alien?! Yet, you have done this, too, and against my agent's advice!" |
 |
| "That's
enough!... Sorry about this, Earthmen… We on planet Crappos also have our fair
share of feminist skanks who speak out when they're not spoken to…"
"Just because
I wouldn't fuck your xrztghpp I'm a whore, Eros?"
"Nonsense! I
could've fucked my xrztghpp myself any time I wanted!"
"Eros is
right. He could have fucked it himself, and – yes – we Crapposian women are only
used to mate, care for the young, and occasionally fly the ship for a few minutes
while Eros goes to the crapper."
|
"Yes, Eros.
Funny thing about us Crapposians: we are afraid of those turds that cannot think
– those that exit the bumhole slowly – and yet we are not afraid of turds that
do think…"
"Yes… Funny
that… Maybe because our thinking turds can be bribed to go quicker…?"
"Yes, Eros.
You're right. Thinking turds are very corruptible."
"I am always
right. For I am Eros – the soldier of my planet!"
**********
Three At Once
"Greater love hath no man than to swap his wife
for another. It is always difficult to have last words over the grave of such a
whore. And Inspector Daniela Clay was a major whore - and a really fat one. A
dear whore to me and to all of us. The bell has rung upon her great career: much
like in Breaking the Waves, which you might laugh at very hard indeed. But
now isn't the time for laughter: this is a B-movie funeral. Now, we lay her to
rest – and some us will lay her even after she's dead. Us B-movie men be very
horny for sexy prostitutes! It's a rest well deserved, but she won't be restin'
fully till we all finish with her – but we all promise to be premature with our
genitals – much like her early departure from this world…"
"Great speech… for a pimp."
"You wish you were a pimp!"
"Shut up you two!... Who's first?"
"Me! I hadn't screwed her in weeks!"
"Yeah, but I was her most loyal customer!
Wrestled with her an' everything!"
"Hang on… Wasn't she a wrestler or
somethin'…?"
"Sure was. From up there."
"No, Canada's there! She was from over
there. Sweden."
"Who cares? Main thing that I be the first
one to go in there while you guys watch me from up there."
"From Canada?"
"No! I'll be in there in the grave, molestin'
her, while you watch me from up there, which is where we are now!"
"Yes, but I'm over here, and you're over
there. We can't all be in the exact same place!"
"Watch? I like watching. I think I'll stand
over there while you do it in there…"
"But I'll be in there!"
"But I'll be in there!"
"No, I'm first, we agreed! You'll be over
there, and he'll be up there!"
"Guess it's better like that… That way you
warm her up in there for us two…"
"On second thought, I don't want to be in
there first. You go ahead… Warm her up; I have a cold…"
"Hey… What if she has VD?..."
"Well, I don't know about you guys but I'm
shooting my load first and asking questions later! Besides, I took a chance on
those earlier dead whores, might just as well see what the insides of one of
these new ones looks like… Let's get going!"
**********
Three At Once: An Official Rumour
"Quite a sight, wasn't it, sir?"
"A sight I'd rather not be seeing… Three bums
molesting a dead whore…"
"Are you worried about them, sir?"
"Hell, no. Let them get gonorrhea from her if
they choose to…"
"Shouldn't we stop them? I mean, wouldn't it
be better now to kill a few than with their meddling permit them to infect the
entire universe?"
"Oh, come on… It's just a few cocks…"
"Well, they must have a reason for their
visits."
"Of course they have! They're horny men! They
visit women's graves!"
"Visits? That would indicate visitors. Are
big erections the usual way of visiting dead whores?"
"We haven't always fired blanks at them..."
"Oh?"
"For
a time, we tried to join those three, first contacting the whore with our own
penises, but no response."
"Must
be 'cause she's dead, sir."
"Yes,
maybe… Then we tried molesting a different dead whore. A small whore, I'll
admit, but never-the-less a whore with a vagina, a vagina which died."
"So
that one was useless, too, sir?"
"Yes…
wouldn't move at all… Modern dead women... "
"Yeah, sir… they've been that way all down
through the ages, especially in a spot like this: they just refuse to budge!…
So what did you do next, sir?"
"We
then concentrated on live whores."
"You
mean the ones that aren't yet dead."
"Yes,
Captain. The ones whose bodies haven't risen our penises yet."
"Oh?"
"Take any fire, any earthquake, any major
disaster like being impotent over the grave of a dead-and-ready sexy whore...
then wonder: will I ever get it up again?"
"Flying saucers, sir, are still a rumor -
officially."
"So are horny dead whores, captain… so are
horny dead whores…"
"What about horny dead whores in flying saucers, sir?"
"What do they want? Where do they work? How
much do they charge? Why can't I get it up for them?"
"They, sir? Who? Why, this is a training
maneuver, sir. We only did a little army-raping of virginal, hot Japanese
school-girls..."
"So they're Japanese, huh…? Always thought
those Japs were kinda alien-lookin'…"
"Yes, sir! Their men have totally hairless
bodies!"
"I was talking about the women, Captain. Keep
your gay knowledge for yourself."
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. The army is a haven
for many of my kind: showers, sleeping quarters, group-sweating, dressing, undressing – and all with men!"
"I wonder what their next move will be..."
"Of gay soldiers?"
"No. Of those Japanese aliens… I
wonder…"
"To make more Manga porn?..."
A Toxic Gas
"First his wife, then he."
"Tragic..."
"Tell me something: how did a fat fuck like
you manage to get out of that tiny little crypt without help?"
"Something to do with family tradition:
everyone in our family gets successfully unstuck out of narrow crypts by
themselves…"
 |
| "Oh, my God, Ed!... How that fat fuck farted
in there!..."
"Was it a hot blast or a cold blast?"
"It wasn't hot, it wasn't cold. It was a
regular fart, Ed…"
|
 |
| "Pew!... Not only does that metal sound strange, but it smells pretty bad, too!... Those aliens are as bad as Tor's arm-pits…" |
Another Toxic Gas
"Trouble with Paula, Jeff?"
"Yeah… That slut won't go near me. Keeps
fondling those damn pillows all night…"
"Oh…?"
"Yes, Danny. She sticks a pillow between her
legs and then makes funny motions, as if riding a horse."
"Weird, Jeff."
"Aha, Danny. So while she's molesting the
pillows I have to have something to keep me company. Sometimes in the night,
when it does get a little lonely, I reach over and touch myself. Over there…
Then it doesn't seem so lonely anymore."
"You're a crazy kid, Jeff, but I know what
you mean. Sometimes, when I feel lonely I play gay Swedish porn on my DVD and
touch it there, too."
"Funny thing, Danny…"
"Yes, Jeff…?"
"I never noticed you touching me there
before, and I never saw a DVD in my life…"
"I meant I was touching my own thing, Jeff…"
"Hey, Danny!... Look!"
"Where?"
"There!"
"Over there?"
"No!"
"Up there?"
"No!"
"Up there?"
"No! Down there! In my pants! Take a look for
yourself!"
"What in the world?"
"That's nothing from this world!"
"Say, Jeff, you never told me yours was so
big!"
"It isn't, Danny. Not normally!"
 |
| "Hi, pilots!"
"Hi, Edith."
"Hi, Edith."
|
 |
| "Say, Jeff, your penis is real big
today."
"I know! And I have no idea why or how!"
"Hey, Jeff, how 'bout you and me balling it up in Albuquerque?"
"You really want this monster up your puss,
Edith?"
"Yeah, why not, Jeff?"
"Well, why don't we do it now, Edith?"
"Okay, Jeff."
"Look… I'm just gonna go to the toilet real
quick. Wait…!"
"No problem, Jeff… Hey, Silent. I haven't
heard a word from this end of the plane since we left the field."
"Oh, but I've been farting a lot, though."
"What makes you say that, Danny?"
"Don't you remember the noise we all heard
during this flight?"
"We were almost knocked to the ground! How
could I forget?"
"Exactly, Edith! But you're not remembering
that sound."  "There you're wrong, Danny. I'm with the fact that the sound smelled bad, but what about the blinding light that sounded so awful?" "Why, haven't you heard, Edith? Been many times when a fart hasn't had a glow, or a light of any kind, for that matter. Or even a sound or smell." "That proves it!" "Well, Edith, that's why I'm a co-pilot and you're still just a mile-high-club waitress." "Sometimes it's only the breaks, Danny…" "Or who you blow, Edith…" "Now tell me why you'd been so silent, Danny." "Oh, Jeff's been giving himself and me a study in penis size. It's left me speechless." "You boys aren't feuding over dick size...?" "Oh no, Edith, it's nothing like that. But I am a little jealous, though." "Jealous, Danny? Have you read how much it hurts to have a 25-inch erection?" "What about it?" |
"Well, when you land on a 25-inch penis, it,
like, really hurts, guyee!"
"Edith, Danny, I'm back…!"
"Do you suppose the passengers saw it, Jeff?"
"Nah, they're mostly asleep. Releasing that
carbon dioxide gas from up there sure was effective…"
"So, you still wanna do it here, Jeff?"
"Nah, changed my mind… On my way back from
the men's room I put it inside the hole of a really pretty young woman in row
12. She was fast asleep. And now I'm okay, Edith…"
"Well, if you change your mind… It'll be 4
a.m. in Albuquerque
soon, and I'm strictly a 5 o'clock whore.
"That proves it!"
"Sure does, Danny."
"I'll be off then, you two. Gotta check on those
CO2 gas emissions…"
"Bye, Edith."
"Bye, Edith."
"Danny, I wonder why it's so big, though…
Here in space…"
"Say, Jeff, perhaps it's that thing they call
gravity…?"
"Yes, Danny, or it's counterpart: the pineal
and pituitary glands."
"Hey, look!..."
"My God! It's shaped like a huge cigar, Jeff!"
"No, Danny…!"
"No?"
"No. I think it is a huge cigar!"
"A UFO!"
"You mean like the kind from up there,
Danny?"
"No. Like the kind from over there!"
"An Unbearably
Funny Object!... Wow, Danny, I'd never thought I'd see one of those!"
"Working for Edward D. Wood Airlines sure
has its perks!"
"Besides free drag queens, Danny…"
"I think you're right about the huge
cigar!... Looks a lot like your penis!"
"You think it may be a penis, Danny?"
"You mean a UPO?"
"Yes: an Unbelievably
Prick-like Object! "
"But, Jeff…!"
"What, Danny?"
"… Since when do we fly above the
stratosphere??"
"You're right. We're in space!"
"But why?"
"Beats me, Danny."
"Say, maybe that's why your penis has gotten
so big, Jeff!"
"Hey, that's right! How about yours,
Danny?..."
"I'll check…"
"Well…?"
"Say!... It's much bigger than before,
Jeff!"
"Think we should try landin' on the moon,
Danny?"
"Dunno. Ask the passengers."
"The passengers are dead, you two."
"Oh, Edith is back. And she's wearing a
gas-mask."
"Yes, boys. Had a bit of self-exploration in
the toilet. I guess I can take it off now."
"Say, Edith, check out Danny's package!"
"Oh, my…! Say, Danny, how 'bout you an' me
an' Jeff ballin' it up in Albuquerque?"
"What about those passengers, Edith?"
"They're all dead."
"Yes, but we can bring them along with us to
Albuquerque, Edith…"
"But why, Jeff? They'd just be in the
way."
"But we are responsible for the safety of all
our passengers, Edith!"
"Oh, you mean we have to make sure they don't
get risen by the Martians and their Plan 9!"
"Of course, Edith! They are the dead, potentially
brought to a simulated life by the aliens' electrode guns."
"You're right, Jeff. We can't let the aliens
rise our passengers from the dead."
"Yes, Edith. It would be too weird landing
with live passengers…"
"Funny thing about those passengers, Jeff… When
you consider the Earth passengers, who are not alive, stink so much more than
the Earth passengers that are alive…"
"Yes, Danny. But we've got to take those passengers
down there with us. After all, you know the slogan of our airline: dead or alive, just as long as you land them safely!"
 |
| "Burbank Tower to American Flight 812! Are you in
trouble? Are you in trouble?!!"
"Mayday! Mayday! Standby, Burbank Tower,
this is Danny speaking!"
"Say, Danny, funny thing how whenever there
is some trouble it is the first of May."
"Yes, Jeff. Those damn pinkos always mean
trouble."
"Say, Danny… That UPO sure looked kinda
red."
"That proves it!"
"Sure does, Danny."
|
|
| "Well…?
You three idiots okay up there?"
"We're all fine, Burbank. But the passengers are all
dead."
"Again?"
"Yes, Mr. Tower."
|
"Hmm… Perhaps those CO2 emissions aren't such a good idea, after all…"
"Probably not, Burbank."
"How
about if we just give them laughing gas from now on?"
"No, Burbank,
bad idea! They'd get even unrulier and hassle us with even more requests
for food and drinks, soft pillows…"
"Pillows, Danny…? Pillows!?"
"Sorry, Jeff…"
"Yes.
We sure can't let the passengers get out of control with the food and
drinks."
"Especially if they're the kind from up
there."
"Especially
then."
"American Flight 812, Danny speaking, reporting
to Burbank Tower, over... Anything else you want to
say?... Oh, no... Holy Mackerel!"
"What is it, Danny?"
"American Flight 812 to Burbank Tower:
I will have to see with Jeff!"
"What, Danny, what does stupid Burbank Tower
want this time?"
"Well, Jeff, Burbank says that those Martians need our
curtains for their next scene!"
"What??... Fuck 'em!"
"I know. I told them we need those for our
own scene, Jeff."
"And for when we shower after shooting,
Danny. I wanna wash this movie's filth off me – real proper."
"Why does Mr. Tower always harass us about
the props, Jeff?"
"Because he's a cheap ol' bastard! Screw that
damn Burbank! Let 'im get his own shower curtains!"
"Hi, you two."
"Hi, Edith."
"Hi, Edith. Been in the lady's room again?"
"Hi, Edith. Been in the lady's room again?"
"Aha, number 2. Say, Jeff, yours and Danny's penises
are back to their normal sizes again."
"Oh, that's right. We must be back in Earth's atmosphere."
"Yeah. I can see clouds 'n' stuff…"
"And another UPO, Jeff."
"Say, Edith, why are you naked
all-of-a-sudden?"
"Why, Jeff, I could also ask you two boys
why you have your penises rising again?"
"That's right, Edith. Must be your nude
body."
"Geez, Edith, if we remain like this we won't
be able to land properly!"
"You're right, Danny. Take a look at
this…"
"Why, it's a picture of your wife Paula, Jeff…!"
"Precisely, Danny."
"Hey, Jeff!... My penis is suddenly getting smaller
again!"
"That's right, Danny. Now we'll be able to
land. That's why I showed it to you."
"Say, Danny, why has Jeff's penis remained
hard?"
"Well, Edith, he still finds his wife
sexy."
"Really, Jeff?"
"Yes, Edith. I've been to countless shrinks,
but none of them could explain why this is so…"
"Poor Jeff, Danny…"
|
| "Burbank Tower to 812! Burbank Tower to Flight 812!" "This is Danny. What is it, Burbank?" "We hear Edith did no. 2 again!" "Yes, she did. And?" "Tell that dumb whore to flush! She never flushes!" "OK, will do, Mr. Tower..." "I always flush!!!... Just not straight away, and not necessarily in the same toilet..." "Say, Danny..." "Yes, Jeff?" "Why is Burbank Tower not a tower at all but two guys in a jeep?" "Dunno. Ed's idea." |
"Hey, look, Danny!"
"More UPOs!"
"And they're celebrating the fourth
of July! Check out those fireworks!"
"Funny thing, boys… We've never had Mayday and the fourth of July on the same day
before!"
"Yeah. Must be that climate change that's got
something to do with it…"
"Yes, Edith, but we've had Mayday and the fourth of July plenty of times in the same year
before!"
"Years of their eons ago, Jeff."
"Precisely, Edith."
"Imagine the coincidence, those aliens
celebrating the same day as our own country!"
"Hang on…!"
"Yes, Jeff…?"
"These are shaped like huge Cuban
cigars."
"You mean it's a UPCO, Jeff?"
"Yeah, or it's counterpart: a Solorbonite
bomb."
"But then we'd be an even bigger nation than
now, Jeff!"
"You, see, you see! Your stupid mind! Stupid,
stupid!"
"That's all I'm taking from you, Jeff…! First
your bigger cock, and now…!"
"Hey, boys, you feuding?"
"YES, Edith! We feuding!"
**********
**********
 |
| "No!!!... You're going the wrong
way, you two!... Vampira, dear…"
"Yes, Ed…"
"Tell that lumbering Swedish meatball to go
to his right, not left!"
|
 |
| "That's much much better! It makes all the difference!" |
Tor Want Chow
 |
"Is this better, Ed?..."
"Great, you two!... You look great! Now
remain standing there for a minute – and keep those faces going like that –
I'll be back in a minute!... Just a little sip."
|
 |
(four hours later…)
"Where has everyone gone, Tor…?"
"You hev great boobiez!"
"Shut up."
"My vife is cooking an elephant dis evening.
Vanna cum?"
"No."
"Your misteck. After food ve kould vrestle a
bit. See how dous boobiez feel vhen I pin you down on de flor."
"Pin your fat wife…"
"I kent. I took a pin vans an' she just
exploded! Det day I learn a valooble lessn: never stick pin into yor fat round
vife. She blows up like ballooon."
|
Scared Shit
"Jeff, why do
you always run to me when there's danger?"
"Oh, but what's the use of it? I'm still scared! Even after I hug you!"
"That's the fifth time you ran to me in the last hour."
"Something's
happened out at the cemetery. Lots of police cars, lights. Those cops are so
frightening! Nearly wet myself! I stopped but I didn't see anything."
"Teary-eyed
again?"
"Yeah. Started
crying. Funny how tears prevent you from seein' things… Oh well, whatever it
is, the morning paper'll cover the whole story."
"Did they take
pictures of you screaming in terror?"
"No. Not this
time."
"You seem to still
be up there somewhere."
"Maybe I am."
"And maybe you're
not."
"Don't contradict
me, Paula! Leave me at least a little semblance of manhood, the little that
I've got left!"
"Up there?"
"Well, certainly
not down there! It's so damn small whenever we land! Oh, but in
space it gets huge, Paula… Huge!…"
"How big?"
"Big enough to
prevent you from yawning!"
"If you don't want me to yawn, just get me a pillow - as ironic as that may sound, Jeff."
"Hang on...! I hear something!!!... Another UPO!"
"There ain't nuthin' here, hun."
"If you don't want me to yawn, just get me a pillow - as ironic as that may sound, Jeff."
"Hang on...! I hear something!!!... Another UPO!"
"There ain't nuthin' here, hun."
 |
| "Nooo!" "Get a grip, Jeff, there is nothing there!" "My ass there isn't!!!"
"I don't think
I've ever seen you this scared before."
"Maybe that's
because I've never been this scared before."
"That makes sense... Something about
your flight?"
"Yeah."
"What happened,
Jeff?" |
"I peed in my
pants."
"Did the
passengers see it?"
"Nah. They
died."
"Again?"
"Aha."
"Carbon dioxide?"
"Yeah."
"That stuff ain't
working, Jeff. There must be a better way for the airline to save money-"
"Nevermind the
damn passengers, Paula! What about me being scared??"
"Sorry, hun."
"I saw a flying
saucer."
"Saucer? You
mean the kind from up there?!!"
"Yeah, or it's
counterpart: the kind from in there, a little to the left."
"Oh!"
"It was round yet shaped
like a huge Cuban cigar. Paula, Cuban cigars are illegal in this nation, so
saucers shaped like that must be illegal, too! Dan and Edith saw it, too."
"That whore!
Always sticking her nose into the cockpit, massaging your genitals…!"
"Now, now, Paula…
That is why it's called a cockpit."
"Oh, you're right.
I forgot."
"Anyway… When it
passed over, the whole compartment lighted up with a blinding glare, then there
was a tremendous wind that practically knocked us off our course."
"Was it a hot wind
or a cold wind?"
"Neither. It was one of Danny's
farts!"
"Well, did you
report it?"
"I always report
him, but that damn Burbank
never does a damn thing about it! No wonder we ended up in space!"
"I meant the Cuban
saucers…"
"Oh, yeah… We
radioed it in immediately and they said keep it quiet until you land."
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"Yes, you."
"Well, you'll have
to keep quiet forever, 'cause I ain't
ever landing!"
"So you're still up there, Paula?"
"So you're still up there, Paula?"
"Yes, hun. That
Colombian cocaine sure is sweet."
"You should lay
off that stuff, Paula."
"I can't. I need something to get me through these darn 50s…"
"And as soon as we
landed, big Army brassholes grabbed us and made us swear to secrecy about the
whole thing!"
"They probably
smoke Cubans, too."
"They sure
do!"
"Did you swear as
they commanded?"
"I had to swear
in German, Paula! German!
"But why in
German?"
"So they wouldn't
understand me!"
"How does swearing
to secrecy in German sound like?"
"Ich find' euch
alle zum Schweinekotzenbraten und werd' euch zum Teufel jagen! Fickt euch!
Fickt euch, ihr Penisfotzen!"
"Oh."
"Yes. Oh, it burns
me up! And frightens me so! German is such a scary language, all those umlauts 'n' stuff! And these Cuban cigars have
been seen for years. They're here - it's a fact! And the public ought to know
about it – and stop smoking."
"I'm a 50s
housewife and I've got to deal with facts!... But, I guess I'll have to go
along with you on this one…"
"Your guess is as
good as mine, Paula…"
"There must be
something you can do about it."
"Only there isn't.
I'm too frightened! But last night, I saw a flying cigar that couldn't possibly
come from our country. But I can't say a word: I'm stiff with fear! Besides, I
was muzzled by Army brassholes! I can't even admit I saw the thing!"
"Admit it to me, Jeff."
"No… I can't. Too
scarred!"
"But it's just me,
Jeff. No-one here but us."
"No, no!... If
they hear me admit it, they'll muzzle me again, Paula!"
"Did you cry a
lot?"
"A bit… But when
they tightened the muzzle I really let myself go! Oh, how I sobbed… How I sobbed!"
**********
Plan 12
"Plan 9…"
"What?"
"Plan 9, sir."
"What?"
"Plan 9… sir."
"What?"
"Plan 9. Plan nine."
"What?"
"But Plan 9, sir… Plan nine. Nine!"
"Don't you raise your voice with me!"
"Sorry, sir. Beg your pardon… Uhm... Plan 9?"
"What?"
"Plan 9. Nine. N-I-N-E."
"Run that by me again…"
"Ehm… Plan 9."
"Plan what?"
"Nine."
"Well, what about it?"
"Burbank
Tower to American Flight
812, over. Burbank
Tower to American Flight
812, over!"
"Is that
Plan 9?..."
"Sorry, sir. The script is so confusing at
times. I meant to say… I meant... to... say…"
"What?... 'Plan 9'?"
"No. I already said that, at least a hundred
times."
"Well, 101 wouldn't hurt…"
"Right, sir. Plan 9."
"What about it?"
"It's about raising the dead."
"Raising the bed?? No, I like to sleep low –
and that's final!"
"No, sir. Plan 9 is about raising the dead."
"Forget it! I've got enough trouble as it is
raising my kids to be gay…"
"Yes, sir. And we in the crew are all 110%
behind your gay marriage and gay adoptions…"
"Yes, Plan 7 was an utter success! Adopting
those strange-looking but sensual zombies from Oberon Seti 5 was anything but
easy but worth it."
"But, sir, that was Plan 3. Plan 7 was your
sex-change."
"And a good plan, too! Pity that Mexican
surgeon was such a moron…"
"But, sir, why would you want to be a
woman?"
"What's wrong with being a woman,
then??"
"But, sir, in my land, women are for
advancing the race, cooking and cleaning, and occasionally for giving speeches
about madness, and not for fighting man's battles!"
"That land you speak of…"
"Yes, sir?"
"That is also my land. In fact: I am its ruler!"
"Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to question your
totalitarian dictatorship."
"And who says I wanna fight man's battles…? I
wanna fight women's battles!"
"Yes, sir. Women's battles are terrific, too,
I'm sure…"
"Just wait till I change my sex! I'll place
the gender laws on their heads!"
"Yes, sir… Women are superior."
"No, not yet. Right now I'm a man – sadly –
so men are superior and women are for cooking and cleaning – for the time being!"
"Sir… Does that mean I'll have to cook and
clean when you apply Plan 12 to yourself?"
"Not if you also apply Plan 12…"
"You mean… all the men on our planet will
have to become women to avoid cooking and cleaning?!"
"Perhaps, Zeus, perhaps…"
"And all the women have to become men so that
we have someone to cook and clean?!"
"Why, that's a pretty good idea, man…!"
"Thank you, my Excellency!"
"Wait… Hang on… D'you hear anything?"
"I thought I did..."
"I don't like hearing noises. 'Specially when
there ain't supposed to be any."
"Yeah, sorta spooky-like."
"Maybe we're gettin' old."
"Well, whatever it was, it's gone now."
"That's the best thing for us, too - gone!"
"Yeah, let's go!"
"Yes. Let's. Screw Eros! Let him fight with
one ship."
"But what if he gets himself in trouble,
sir?"
"So what if he does?... He says himself that life
is not so expensive on his planet – which is also our planet, I might add – and
that he doesn't cling to it like us gays do."
"True. He keeps repeating that every time he
shoves Tanna to the side after one of
her madness speeches…"
"I wanna look like Tanna…"
"But that's Plan 12, sir."
"Yes, it is. I'll just have to wait then…
Damn those fucking dagos! Mexico
is a fucking cesspool!"
"But, sir… What if Eros does get killed? He
is my uncle's lover, after all…"
"Your aunt's lover."
"Oh, yes. I keep mixing them up."
"It's quite unfair. Quite unfair. Your uncle
gets to undergo Plan 12, and I – the ruler of our planet – have to wait!"
"Life is unfair, sir."
"Yes, life isn't so precious to us. We don't
cling to it like Eros does, with his fear of heights, fear of carpets, fear of
noses… Damn, just how many phobias does that man have??"
"About 12.3, sir."
"Screw him…"
"But what if he dies, sir?"
"Well, then we use Plan 389."
"Yes, that's the one about raising
Eros."
"As a child – no. Raising him as a child is
Plan 389a."
"But, sir!... 389! That plan is so far ahead
in the future!"
"Well, if he dies I guess he'll just have to
wait for his turn, like everyone else! I'm still waiting for Plan 12, ain't
I?"
"Yes, sir…"
"Now… Apply Plan 1. Immediately!"
"Er, yes, sir… Er, where do you want me to
massage you? Back?... Legs?"
**********
The Hungarian Count(down)
A little later...
Being Green
"Tanna…"
"Yes, Excellency?"
"How manly are your hands?"
"Not particularly. Why?"
"I was thinking of Plan 1 and… Oh, forget
it…"
"Is it mad? Is it mad to think about Plan 1 when you want a massage?? Yet you have
done this!... Is it mad to-"
"Tanna, before you go on… Shut up. Just shut up. No
madness speeches now. I've got a headache."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Eros's brother has just applied Plan 1
on me, and quite frankly he put me out of the running, and it's the third time
today, and I'm getting darn tired of it!"
"Didn't he finish Massage University?"
"Yes, he did – with barely a C minus!"
"Well, sir, what about his Anal-Licking
University Degree?"
"Well… he has a B plus there. He's pretty
good. Solid technique. Hard worker 'n' all, great brown-nosing… Strange…"
"Lord, maybe it's because his feminine side
is strongly accentuated in his DNA."
"Yeah... I hadn't thought of that. You're so
smart. Guess that's why you're a Female Detective Lieutenant and I'm still just a Male Uniformed Master of Our Planet.
But Plan 12 will soon change all that…"
"Their own dead will be used to make them
accept Plan 12 and believe in that fact.."
"Yes, Tanna. If live man-animals refuse Plan 12, maybe
the dead man-animals won't."
"Oh Great Fey One, why are Hu-mans so persistent in
ignoring our sex-change ambitions?"
"It's quite simple: atmospheric conditions in
outer space often interfere with their brain transmissions."
"No wonder, Lord… These Hu-mans are shaped
like huge cigars."
"Except the fat one."
"Except her."
"Which reminds me... Tanna, do we look like Martians?"
"No. We are Crapposians and we are soldiers of
our planet, where women are used for advancing the race, not for dressing up as
Martians. Is it mad to-"
"Shush!... A simple NO is all I wanted. Save your madness speeches for the stupid stupid minds scene. If we don't
look like Martians then why do Earth people keep calling us that? It's very
offensive!"
"Yes, sir. And we're not green, either."
"The last time I was green was just before I
met Ted. Before him I was quite a novice at it…"
"There is another adjective that those Earth
people down there use: greenhorn."
"Green horny? Again, the last time I was
green and horny was hours before I met Ted…? I am not a horny green man. I am a
horny white man!"
"And a soldier of our planet!"
"Well, yes, that too…"
"Do you like green, sir?"
"I am not green but I do enjoy green, yes.
The greener the better, I say…"
"You're not green but you do look sort of
tired, Lord... Your eyelids: are you tired or just gay?"
"Rude question. So very rude…"
"Sorry, Excellency, I didn't mean to be judging you..."
"Don't judge. And don't be offensive. Learn to not judge and not offend, Tanna."
"Because that is politically correct, Master?"
"Yes, we are on 21st-century Earth now. You know how they say: when in Rome do as the brainwashed Romans do."
"But why are the western Earthlings so obsessed with not being judged and offended?"
"Because they've become even bigger pussies than Eros, Tanna. That's why."
"Master, look! The fat cow that we have risen is approaching!"
"Sorry, Excellency, I didn't mean to be judging you..."
"Don't judge. And don't be offensive. Learn to not judge and not offend, Tanna."
"Because that is politically correct, Master?"
"Yes, we are on 21st-century Earth now. You know how they say: when in Rome do as the brainwashed Romans do."
"But why are the western Earthlings so obsessed with not being judged and offended?"
"Because they've become even bigger pussies than Eros, Tanna. That's why."
"Master, look! The fat cow that we have risen is approaching!"
"Is she in green company?"
"Why do you ask, Master?"
"I'll tell you one thing, Tanna: if a little
green man pops out at me, I'm shooting first and asking questions later."
"Just try not to shoot at the curtains, sir…
We had them cleaned last week."
"Last human week or week of their eons
ago?"
"Monday."
"Oh. Anyway… why are you so protective of
our galactic curtains, Tanna?... Last month of their eons ago, i.e. Wednesday, you
complained when Eros used them in his shower."
"I thought it was disrespectful to desecrate
your Excellency's office curtains like that!"
"It ain't disrespectful when I can
watch!..."
"You watched Eros shower?"
"And bathe! I promised him another ship for
Plan 9 if he extended this hygienic procedure by an hour…"
"Lord… This Ted… Was he your first
wife?"
"No, he was my second husband. Hey…! It's
required reading! Don't you know that stuff by heart?"
"Sorry, Master. We women from our planet are
used for advancing the race, not for going to school to learn about historically important
homosexual marr-"
"Oh, yes, I see. I forgot…"
"Is it mad to allow gay marriage when one man wants another so that they can adopt young virginal boys, and-"
"No!"
"Sorry…"
"No madness speeches!... Bundy was my first wife, if you must know.
Then came Jeb, my first husband."
"And then Ted, the second husband?"
"No. After Jeb came my second wife,
Bill."
"Oh, I see… So it's wife-husband-wife-husband…"
"Yes. Gay life can be very rhythmical that
way. That is, until Kebal."
"Kebal the Great?"
"Yes, I married him as my third wife, but
during the marriage he became my husband, so technically he was both my wife
and my husband."
"Is that polygamy?"
"Only if Kebal had been schizophrenic."
"Was he?"
"I don't know. Never talked to him. We interacted
solely through a 3-inch hole in the wall between our rooms…"
**********
UFO Denial
"Come in, Col. Edwards… Come on, leave those
damn binoculars and come inside my office!"
"But... I don't understand why those damn clouds
don't fall down!"
"I guess they're light or something."
"But why do they just sit there and float,
sir?"
"Who cares?! We are not all interested in clouds, Colonel, for that is not where you
and I are going to spend the rest of our lives!"
"No, sir…?"
"No! Now get in and close the door!"
"Yes, sir."
"At ease, Colonel."
"Thank you, sir."
"Sit down. I, uh, understand you've been on
tap for many of our army denials."
"I've been in charge of Denial Operations,
sir."
"Do you believe there are such things as
self-delusion and denial?"
"Yes, sir."
"You've felt them?"
"Yes, sir."
"You realize there is a government directive
stating that there is no such thing as denial."
"Yes, sir."
"You stand by your statement that you've felt
denial?"
"Well, uh... yes, sir."
"This could mean a Court Martial - admitting
this against direct orders."
"General Roberts, may I lie to you?"
"You may."
 |
| "How could I expect to hold onto my command
if I didn't believe in what I lied to
myself and denied it?"
"I, uh... like you, Colonel."
"I like you, too, sir. Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome… There are denials and
self-deception. There's no doubt they are in our army. They've been there for
some time."
"Out there?"
"No. In there. And sometimes even over
there. Up there even."
"What are we going to do about them?"
"Who knows."
"Then, uh, they really are there...?"
"I thought you were convinced of that!"
"I lied."
"We've had contact with them."
"Contact with ourselves? How?"
"Hypnosis."
"We speak our own language?"
"Well, not quite. We received messages from
our subconsciousness. For a while it came in as just a lot of jumbled noise. A
lot of repressed homosexuality, talk of booze, cheating the wife at home with
harbour whores, etc…"
"And now, sir?" |
"Well since we first contacted our
consciousness telepathically, we've developed a denial computer - a machine
which breaks down any self-illusion and translates it without denial."
"Very dangerous for the army, sir."
"Sure is. Being forced to tell the public the
truth would be devastating. And the less said about admitting that latent
homosexual stuff the better…"
"General, what's all this denial got to do
with me?"
"Well, you've been in charge of Denial Field
Activities for a while.
"I have?"
"But you just said you were in charge of
Denial Operations?!"
"I deny that."
"Oh. I get it… It's a Monty Python thing."
"Thank you, sir."
"I think it's time you heard some of these
recordings. Do you mind?"
"Mind? I'm anxious! Then again… I might be
lying to myself."
Permit
me to set your mind (and my mind, sort of) at ease - we do not want to conquer
your brain, only save it from lies. We could have destroyed it long ago if that
had been a possibility – but it isn't: we have no arms or explosives. It is up
to you to commit suicide if you want. (Please do! I can't take it in here
anymore!) Our principal purpose is friendly. I admit we have had to take
certain means which you might refer to as criminal. That is because of your big
penises which have destroyed some of our thinking abilities: every time you get
horny, the inner mind dies a bit! If you persist in denying us our truths, then
we must only accept that you don't want us on friendly terms. We then have no
alternative but to infest your subconsciousness with even more gay images and
fantasies. Is that what you want? With your cowardly, juvenile army minds, you
have developed self-denial too fast for your – and our - minds to conceive of
what you – we - are doing. You are on the verge of destroying all your
delusional brains. This is our last..."
"That's the end of that one. Atmospheric
conditions in inner space often interfere with transmission."
"Is that because we in the army have so much
empty space in there in the first place?"
"Probably."
"How many recordings do you have, General?"
"An even dozen up till now. That's 12 point 0. This
was the last one. We received it over a month ago."
"Why didn't you call me earlier? Earlier of
their eons ago."
"I was busy. A secret shipment of gay porn
came in last month."
"You think they mean business?"
"We can't afford to take any chances. Have
you ever been to Hollywood?"
"Oh, Sunset Boulevard, a couple of times a
month, every month."
"You're going to be there in the morning.
Just a few minutes from Hollywood in the town of
San Fernando,
reports have come in of self-denial so bad that the lies knocked some Sunset
Strip transvestite prostitutes to the ground, making them laugh with tears.
Apparently, some of our boys slept with them, and then denied being gay… Major
Carlson will replace you while you're out there."
"Out there?"
"Out there, in there, over there – whatever!
Just find them, Colonel. See what in hell it is they want!"
"Probably more drag queens, sir."
"Col. Edwards..."
"Yes, sir?"
"I really do like you… A lot."
"Thank you, sir. I'll keep that in mind. But
my divorce isn't final yet…"
"Well, when it's final, let me know… We'll be
on Cloud 9."
"Cloud?... But you said that clouds are not
where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives?!!"
"I was in denial."
********
Some Plans Ain't Easy
"Why is this toaster busted?"
"Should I apply Plan 5, my Excellency?"
"Is that the one that fixes toasters?"
"Yes, my Lordship."
"Then apply Plan 5c."
"But, my Lord…"
"That's the one that fixes toasters while
gratifying me sexually at the same time. Says here in the 500 Plans From Outer Space Guide quite clearly."
"But, Excellency… that's so difficult!"
"What?!"
"Then again, I took a chance on those earlier
gay rulers; might just as well see what the insides of one of these looks like…"
"And another thing, Eros…"
"Yes, my Excellency?"
"That's exactly what I wanted to talk about:
this whole my Excellency business!"
"What about it, my Excellency?"
"There!... You did it again!"
"What's wrong with saying my Excellency, my
Excellency?"
"Now you said it twice! Stop now!"
"Yes, my, er… Superstardom…"
"Eros…"
"Yes, my… er…"
"You cannot call me my anything because I ain't yours! You dig?"
"I dig."
"Your own grave, if you don't stop."
"Yes, your Excellency…"
"That's better! Eros, you may become a great
woman yet one day!..."
"Thank you, my Excellency- Oh!"
"You idiot! Do you see a ring on this
finger?! Eros, you don't own me! You simply don't!"
"I know, your Excellency… We're not married.
Sorry…"
"Now get going with that Plan 5…"
"Sir…?"
"Yes, Eros?"
"One more thing…"
"Yes?"
"The toaster, your Excellency: when the bread
shoots out should it give off a hot blast or a cold blast?"
"As long as it is shaped like a huge cigar,
I'll be happy with it, Eros."
 |
| "Modern-day gay dictators, Tanna…"
"Yes, Eros… They've been that way all down
through the ages, especially in a spot like this…"
|
Fucking Assholes
"First his wife, then he."
"Hilarious..."
"Tell me something: why was his wife buried
in the ground and he sealed in a crypt?"
"Something to do with comic timing - a plot
device of some sort."
"Oh."
"Well, it's getting funny again… Let's be on
our way back to our seats…"
"Because two people in the audience dared openly mock
the movie, it will be stopped! For a couple of minutes… After we resume, if
anyone laughs again… Oh, you fucking assholes... you f-u-c-k-i-n-g pricks, how dare you??! How dare
you!!???... I predict: anyone who laughs from now on, will live on Mars by 1976
with Eros and his parents!"
Other Plans
"What do you two cretins want?..."
"But, ruler!... I am the soldier of my
planet!"
"You're also a cretin from your planet."
"A cretin?! You mean like the kind from up
there?"
"Up there, in there, over there… Cretins are the
same everywhere."
"But, ruler!... Take any cretin, any moron,
any major B-movie disaster... then wonder. Idiots, my Ruler, are still a rumor -
officially."
"But, Eros, we are all interested in cretins,
for that is what you and I are going to be like the rest of our lives!"
"Shut up, Tanna! Don't interrupt me when I
talk to the man who watched me shower!"
"That reminds me, you two… Why are you hiding
your breasts from me?"
"We are undergoing Plan 6, sir…"
"Is that the one about overcoming shyness due
to small tits?"
"No, Master. It's the one about protecting
oneself from rulers who cop-a-feel at any given opportunity."
"Drop the gun to the floor, Tanna! The matter
will break contact!"
"There, my Master!... I've dropped it!"
"Fooled you, Tanna… Hmm, nice tits…"
"But, master, they are small!"
"Exactly, exactly… I like 'em small. We fashion-designers-turned-rulers-of-the-galaxy love our girls
boyish…"
"Yes, Excellency. Take any fashion model, any
Hollywood actress - any major disaster like
that... then wonder: that flat-chested whores are promoted by gays in the media is still a
rumor - officially."
(Three hours later)
"You cretins still here…?"
"But, my ruler, you haven't told us what you
think about gays creating sex symbols for the modern heterosexual man!"
"I thought that conversation was over…"
"Oh, perhaps you were right. We are cretins…"
"Still, since you're here… What have you done
about Plan 9a?"
"Plan 9a?... Ah, yes, Plan 9a deals with the sex-change
of the dead. Long- distance silicone electrodes shot in the pineal and pituitary
glands of recent dead's penises."
"Then that fat, bald whore was a man
once?"
"Yes, Master."
"And the man-animals?... The living?... They
have no suspicion of your movement?"
"No. Their soul is too controlled. Too
controlled by hormones to notice that they are molesting sex-change
transvestite zombies."
"You make it sound as if it were
filthy…"
"Well, it is, my Lord."
"Why is it filthy, Eros? What possible reason
could you give me for it being filthy?"
"Because of death. Because all of them of Earth
are idiots!!!"
"I'm confused, Eros."
"I am, too, my Excellency."
"Nevermind that now… It's too bad that these
penises must be handled this way, but they must. Those penises that we take
from the grave will lead the way for our other operations. Operations of doing
the opposite: vagina to penis."
"Yes, Excellency. We have done that, too.
Plan 9b is in full swing. We have an old man who used to be a woman."
"An old man you say?..."
"Yes, your Excellency."
"The one that imitates vampires?"
"The same."
"Isn't he dead?"
"Well, he isn't alive, sir. We have risen him
as we have risen the other two."
"And part of what plan was that; refresh my
gay memory…?"
"Plan 9c, Lord. Plan 9c is the rising of dead
vampire impersonators by using their footage of smelling flowers near Hollywood houses…"
"House, did you say?... Flowers…? Young
boys…? This plan sounds better and better by the minute."
"Yes, Excellency. And Plan 9d is quite
promising, too."
"Plan 9d, did you say?"
"Yes, my worship. Plan 9d is the rising of
unemployed chiropractors. It flows seamlessly from Plan 9c."
"It takes a genius to devise such devious
plans. Who devised them? Who was this brilliant genius?"
"Why, you,
my Excellency! You wrote all the
Plan 9s."
"Yes, so I did. Us gays are all so
extraordinarily gifted… I wrote them on toilet paper while finishing watching a
really terrific little opus called 'Glen or Glenda?'… Wonderful movie."
"Me and Tanna didn't know you had a
View-Screen-Set-Televisor installed in your toilet??"
"And I don't – in spite of being the Ruler of
the Galaxy. I watched the film through a neighbour's window."
"A neighbour, you say…?"
"Yes, Eros. A certain Hu-man called John
Bunny Beckenridge…"
"Your Excellency, may we watch this Glen or
Glenda? with you next time this Bunny plays it?"
"Why not. But bring your own toilet seats
with you; I only have two: one for me and one for my lover."
**********
"Colonel Edwards!..."
"Yes, General…?"
"You still starring at those damn
clouds??"
"Oh, yes, sir."
"Well, stop!"
"Yes, sir."
"And come back to bed…!"
Goldilocks
"Stop him,
you fool!"
"I can't!
It's jammed!"
"Well, then
if you can't unjam it yourself, tell that blond poofter to do it!"
 |
| "I am not
blond! I am Goldilocks-yellow."
"Unjam it!"
"Fine, but
before I do, tell me: how many Earth people have you brought back from the
dead?"
|
 |
| "Er… 2. We
have - cough - successfully risen 2… Now unjam the gun!"
"2…? Out of
5,000,000,000?... Hmm. That's not bad. Not bad at all…"
|
"Yes, my
Lord,… *gasp*… that's a 100%
improvement over the risen we had on Mercury. There we had risen only
one."
"One and a
half, actually."
"Who told you
to speak, Tanna? Don't you know that Crapposian housewives like you are only
used for mating, caring for the young, and unjamming the occasional jammed
gun?..."
"Sorry, oh
Lord… I am blond."
"Oh, look, Tanna… Eros…"
"Oh, look, Tanna… Eros…"
"He's dead…
That baldy killed him."
"I guess that
was too close. Too close!"
"Close but no
cigar, my Lord, as the unrisen undead humans would say."
"Those that
are alive?"
"Yes, those
that are not yet dead so that we couldn't yet rise them from the dead, my
Lord."
"Your
guess is as good as mine, Tanna. But one thing's sure: Eros is dead. Murdered.
And that fat fuck is responsible!"
"Yes,
Lord."
"Could you molest
my xrztghpp, Xena…?"
"Sure, my
Lord… The upper one or the lower one…?"
"The middle one."
"Oh, Lord, I
had no idea…!"
**********
"Don't teeckle! Or I'll drahp her!"
"So you're ticklish? That proves it!"
"Ja, ja… I hedn't tought of det. Guess det's
vhy you're a yuniformed cop and ahm still a dumb monsta."
**********
"What do you make of that, detective?"
"You got me, Colonel! Didn't look that way a
minute ago!"
"What about your man?"
"Why, that's him."
"In the excitement, I forgot all about
Kelton. The way he became like this."
"Yeah… Modern cops… We've been that way all
down through the ages, especially with a blast like this."
"Cold blast or hot blast?"
"It wasn't cold, it wasn't hot."
"Ah, he'll be alright in a few minutes..."
"I don't see how."
"Did you see that thing? Did you get it?..."
"Kelton, you talk!?..."
"What was it? It didn't fall! I fired every
bullet I had!"
"So did we, Kelton. Unfortunately, we fired
it all into you by mistake. I don't know what it was or what happened, but
unless that bag of bones that is you can re-assemble itself, your cop career is
out of the running now."
"Think I can be of any use in a biology
department, sir?"
"Sure, Kelton. But only if it's a B-movie
biology department…"
Musical Ladders
"I've never
heard metal sound like that
before…"
"Ever been to
a Slayer concert?..."
"I don't like hearing noises. 'Specially when
there ain't supposed to be any."
"Well, then quit bangin' on that
ladder!"
"Easier said than done. Somehow I can't stop
hitting it. It's like a tick I have. There!... Did it again…"
"What if we banged the ladders with a shoe,
or somethin'…?"
"Nope… Same thing. Weird again."
"Now try your
shoe…"
"Hey, look, there's a door! Didn't know
aliens had doors."
"Never heard a door sound like that before!"
"Do you have to hit everything?"
"Not everything. I never hit myself."
"Do you think we'll find any aliens in
there?"
"Well, of course! These things have been here
– it's a fact. Yet, there is nothing to base a fact of suspicion on."
"So they are there?"
"I thought you believed they were?!"
"I do. I have to work with facts. But I guess
I'll have to go with you on this one…"
"Which one?"
"Your fact is as good as mine, Jeff."
"Do you think
they'll be green, these aliens?"
"Are Slayer
fans green?"
"I don't
think so."
"Well, there
you have it."
"Have
what?"
"You seem
confused. You should study edwoodsianism more before getting into conversations
such as these…"
Very Stupid Stupid Minds
 |
"First a bomb. Then a larger bomb!"
"You think Gravediggers was a bigger bomb
than Glen?"
"Sure it was!"
"Now you just hold on, Buster!"
"No, you
hold on! First was your Ghoul Goes
West! A harmless mini-feature. Then came your pilot for Sinister Urge! You
began to kill your people's brain-cells a few at a time. And then came Glen or
Glenda!"
|
 |
| "That's all I'm taking from you !..." |
 |
| "It's because of film-makers like you all must be destroyed.
Headstrong. Dumb. Talentless. No use of the dollars God gave you."
"You talk of God's cash?!!"
"Why? Do you also think it impossible that we,
independent producers, can also makes something out of God's cash? You - who work
for the bosses of your company, DreamWorks. You see, I work for no-one: I am my
own boss! Yes, we have had to use drastic means to get films done, including
casting lousy Hollywood stars in cameos, but
you left us with no alternative. When you have huge amounts of talentlessness,
you have nothing! Nor does the movie universe!"
"You speak of talentlessness, but just what
is it?"
|
 |
| "Take a pile of your scripts... " "Ok. And then...?" "And then, say that this pile is poured on with a can of gasoline…"
"Yes?... And then what?..."
"Burn the fucking crap! Burn it!"
|
 |
| "That's all I'm taking from you !..."
"Let him finish, Jeff!"
"Hit me again and I'll scream!"
|
 |
| "Stop hitting him, Jeff!"
"Well, I did say I would slap and ask
questions later!"
"Let the poor bastard speak! Finish your shit theory, Martian!"
|
 |
| "OK... But stop hitting me. It's degrading and hurts my green alien cheeks... Anyway... After you burn it, spread a thin line of the gasoline to your
villas and studios. Now the gasoline represents the end of all celluloid garbage.
Here we saturate the line with the gasoline - the saviour of independent film - then
we light it! The flame will speedily travel from Hollywood to around the Earth, back along the
line of gasoline to the can - or the world itself. It will explode this source,
and spread to every place where your dumb movies are watched. Explode the line
of gasoline and a chain reaction will occur direct to every cinema that wastes
people's time and money on crap like Men In Black and to all the planets that
your movies have infested. To every planet in the universe, I think. This is
why you must be stopped. This is why any means must be used to stop you. In a
friendly manner or, as it seems, you want it!"
"But why do you hate The Hours so
much?"
|
 |
| "Because it's a fucking chick-flick stinker!"
"Nicole's fake nose wasn't that bad!"
"Wasn't bad?? Mengele couldn't have mangled
here face more!"
"You're mad, Martian! That movie was a hit!"
|
 |
| "Mad?! Is it mad that you destroy other people's brain-cells to make yourselves rich?! You have done this. Is it mad that one studio must compete with another by making an even worse piece-of-shit blockbuster such as Armageddon? You have also done this. How then is it mad that-" |
 |
| "That's enough!... In my company, actors are for parroting lines of dialogue, not for changing scenes, writing or directing. Actors are not so expensive
in my world - we don't cling to the same fucking retards over and over like you do. Tom
Cruise, huh?... Must every movie be with Leonardo Di Crappio? Our aim is for the development of indie films."
"You fiend!!!"
|
"I? A fiend?!! I am a producer from Iowa! I, a fiend? We did
not come here as enemies. We came only with friendly intentions. To talk, to
ask your aid."
"Our aid?"
"Yes. Your aid for distribution of our projects. But your studio
execs refused to even accept our existence! Even though you've heard us beg for
cash, read all of our e-mails, you still refuse to answer us!"
"Why is it so important that you want to
contact our Hollywood studio bosses?"
"Because of death of the cinema! Because all
you of Hollywood producers and directors and actors are
idiots!!!"
"Name one bad movie we made!"
"Shakespeare In Love! What a turkey!"
"Now you just hold on, Buster!"
"No, you hold on! First was a moron like
Sydney Pollack, a harmless director of forgettable soaps. Then came your
precious Robert Redford with Ordinary People and then The Milagro Beanfield
War – leftist crap if I've ever seen one! You began to sell your pinko
propaganda to your own people a few at a time. Then came Rob Reiner with his
own pinko duds! Then a larger pinko: Oliver Stone, with his badly cast, dull
mess of a propaganda turd, Born On The 4th Of July! Many people's
brains are killed at once! Then your producers stumbled across even worse
directors: Gus van Sant; his movies were so bad they could split a brain in one viewing. Then the Steven Spielberg bomb: Saving Private Ryan, which
actually explodes the brain itself. Have you ever seen a more pussy cast of
WWII soldier-bitches in your life?? He only forgot to add Di Caprio, Cruise, Affleck,
and Schwimmer and total destruction of all movie-goers would have been
complete! The only explosion left is the Solorbonite: the ultimate anti-perfect
anti-masterpiece piece of crap!"
"Why, there's no such thing!"
"Perhaps, to you. But we've known it for decades
of your minutes. Some of our own ultra-talentless underground directors have
made their own fair share of crap, like John Waters. The other low-budget
misfires came mostly from Iran, those pathetic slow-moving dramas with depressed peasants walking around with mules…
Your directors will stumble upon it just as they have all the other cinematic turkeys. But the
juvenile minds which you possess will not comprehend it's badness until it is
too late!"
"But there is no such thing! Solorbonite??
Nothing can be worse than Dead Man Walking!"
"So you think…"
"You're joking!"
"The Solorbonite is a way to explode the
actual particles of the brain cell."
"Why, that's impossible! Not even Philadelphia…"
"Even now, your studio bosses are working on
a way to harness their directors' worst abilities. The directors' own brains
are very minute particles."
"Why, a director's brain can't even be seen or measured!"
"Why, a director's brain can't even be seen or measured!"
"Precisely! Is it so far from your
imagination they cannot do as I have suggested?"
"Well, not if you mean Warren Beatty. He's
pretty dumb."
"He's nothing compared to what can
exist!"
"Worse than Alexander??!"
"Well, you got me there… But, yes, there are
ways to make even a Stone movie worse… Can you see or measure a director's
brain? Yet, its celluloid works can explode your brain! Just take Mission
Impossible 2! A normal brain is made of many brain-cells. A director's - and
especially an actor-director's brain – is barely made out of anything!"
"So what if we did develop this Solorbonite? With
such a bomb we'd be raking in even more cash at the box-office that we are now!"
"Yes, Martian, tell us how to make profitable bombs even
dumber than Twilight!"
 |
| "You see! You see! Your stupid L.A. minds! Stupid!! Stupid!!!" |
 |
| "That's all I'm taking from you !..." "Well, this time you will be fighting my double, you Earthling prick!" |
The Epic Epilogue
All's Well That Criswell
 |
| "My friends, you have seen this creation
based on Ed Wood's script. Can you prove it sucks? This is the most fantastic
story you have ever heard. And every word of it is true, too. And that's the
fantastic part of it!...
Perhaps on your way home, someone will pass you in
the dark, and you will never know it, for they will be Ed Wood's friends, relatives,
or film crew, hiding in the forest or in the park, forced to live off garbage
and dead squirrels! Be nice: feed them. And don't mention Plan 9! Many movie
critics believe that another great movie is being made this moment. But where? By
whom? The indie scene is dead: it's all about gay lovers in road movies discussing
how awful capitalism is!... And what about Hollywood?
Do we really want to see Amistad II or a biography drama starring Angelina
Jolie as a brilliant scientist?... Iran? Those hairy asses always sucked. France?... If your idea of a comedy
is when a big-nosed, thin-lipped, tiny Frenchman slips on a banana peel - then
yes!...
We once laughed at the horseless carriage, the
aeroplane, the telephone, Sean Penn's face, the electric light, vitamins,
radio, Madonna's face, and even television – especially those really bad
episodes of Star Trek: The Next Degeneration! What a bunch of pussies! And now we laugh
at movies. God help us in the future, for that is when you and I will spend the
rest of our lives futilely waiting for a good movie to be made..." |
Coming soon, an homage to Battlefield Earth!
In the meantime, 125 Cheesiest Star Trek Moments:
