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(*1 INT. STUDIO - LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Coming up next: The Watermark Greeting Card
Hall of Holidays Network Presentation of
"The First Thanksgiving"...
immediately followed by the FAL production of
"The Last Thanksgiving," featuring The Screaming Planet Players.
(2 INT. SUBURBAN SIT-COM LIVING ROOM - PRERECORDED)
(AUDIENCE APPLAUSE, SILLY TV THEME MUSIC)
MRS. PILGRIM:
Bird's almost done...
MR. PILGRIM:
Smells great. How long?
MRS. PILGRIM:
Any hour now.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(TO KIDS, LOUD)
BILLY! SUZY! Kids, come on downstairs.
(AUDIENCE APPLAUSE)
BILLY:
These outfits are so queer, mom!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
Mrs Pilgrim:
Silly Billy. Come here and let me fix the belt buckle on your hat.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
I think you two look quite festive.
SUZY:
Get with it, dad! This is the 1620's!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
BILLY:
Dad, why are we doing this again?
MR. PILGRIM:
To show our gratitude for the good harvest!
SUZY:
Yeah, right. What's the scam now, dad - selling water softeners?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
Don't you remember, kids? Half of us Pilgrims died last winter.
(AUDIENCE SIGH)
MRS. PILGRIM:
Mmm-hmmm. The half below the waist.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
(TO MRS. PILGRIM, UNDER BREATH)
Let's not discuss that in front of the K-I-D-S!
(SLIGHT AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(TO KIDS, LOUD)
Ahem, like I said: half of us died last winter - Don't you think we ought to be thankful to the Lord?
BILLY:
Yeah, Lord. Thanks a lot.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
For Shame, Billy! Listen - if we die out, who's gonna keep our way of life going? The hats...
(SLIGHT AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
the recipes...
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
the distrust of strangers...
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SUZY:
Sarah Josepha Hale?
MR. PILGRIM
Pumpkin', She's not born yet!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MRS. PILGRIM:
Suzy, Help me set the table. The Wampanoags will be here any minute.
(SOUND OF SILVERWARE)
SUZY:
But they don't use silverware, mom. They eat with their hands.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
Mrs PILGRIM:
Now, Suzy.
(DOORBELL)
That must be them now!
MR. PILGRIM:
Honey, The Wampanoags are here.
SUZY:
There goes the colony.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(DOOR OPEN)
MR. PILGRIM:
Hi, Squanto. Hi, Pinnochio-tas.
(3 INT./EXT. FRONT PORCH)
(AUDIENCE APPLAUSE, BIRDS UP AND UNDER)
SQUANTO:
Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Pilgrim, Billy, Suzy.
BILLY:
Wow! Are you one of The Village People! I really dig your music -
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
Hush, Billy.
POCAHAUNTAS:
Hello. My name is Pocahauntas, Mrs. Pilgrim, not Pinnochio.
SUZY:
Just you wait 'till Uncle Walt gets through with you.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
POCHAHAUNTAS:
We brought some venison, Mr. Pilgrim.
MR. PILGRIM:
Great, I love chili! See how my fork stands up!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
POCAHAUNTAS:
Sick! I hope that's a fork in your trousers.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MRS. PILGRIM:
Don't worry, It couldn't be anything else...
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
(TO MRS. PILGRIM, UNDER BREATH)
I told you not discuss that in front of the K-I-D-S!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Actually, this is deer meat.
POCAHAUNTAS:
You know how wild foul can sometimes turn out a little dry.
MRS. PILGRIM:
Oh, My bird won't be dry! I've stuffed it with juicy corn!
POCHAHAUNTAS:
Of course, dear. Corn. Nature's lubricant.
(SLIGHT LAUGHTER)
How close is bird to being done?
MRS. PILGRIM:
I'll have to check it. Few more hours, I expect.
(SLIGHT LAUGHTER)
POCAHAUNTAS:
Mmmm-hmmm. Do you mind if we come inside?
(AUDIENCE SURPRISE: OOOOOH!)
MR. PILGRIM:
What the hell happened on our porch? Damn kids! They've smashed up our pumpkins!
SQUANTO:
Sorry. My bad! We thought those horrible faces were evil spirits.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
Do you mind if we come inside?
MR. PILGRIM:
Yes - I mean, no! I mean, Lord be praised, It sure is a nice day! Let's eat outside!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MRS. PILGRIM:
But we only have the one soundstage, dear!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
Dear, We can afford an occasional location shot.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
POCAHAUNTAS:
Are Squanto and I the first ones here?
We invited some of our close friends and relatives. There should be about 90 of us altogether.
MR. PILGRIM:
They're probably stuck in traffic.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
That's fine. The main course won't be ready for a while.
(TO MRS. PILGRIM)
Hey, Sweetheart. How is that bird coming along?
(POCAHAUNTAS AND SQUANTO FOLLOW MR. PILGRIM INSIDE)
(INT. LIVING ROOM, NEAR KITCHEN)
MRS. PILGRIM:
Just a few more hours.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
Let's have a snack. Wheat pudding, anyone?
SUZY:
Mmmmm, yummy!
BILLY:
Right on!
MR. PILGRIM:
Hey, Squanto... let's watch some football.
SQUANTO:
Okay. Is that it over there?
MR. PILGRIM:
Yep. It's sort of an inflated bulb inside of an egg-shaped leather case.
Beautiful, isn't it?
(PAUSE)
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(PAUSE)
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
What does it do?
MR. PILGRIM:
Well, nothing yet. It'll be a lot more interesting to watch when we invent some kind of game for it.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
As long as it's not another "land acquisition" game.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
Well, er, Um-
MRS. PILGRIM:
Are you boys finished watching that silly thing?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Hell, yes.
MR. PILGRIM:
Yeah. Pretty much.
(UNDER BREATH)
I wish that wench would mind her own business.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
(TO SQUANTO)
Squanto, How 'bout that harvest this year, huh?
SQUANTO:
Yeah. Pretty bountiful.
MR. PILGRIM:
Enjoying that wheat pudding?
SQUANTO:
Sure. It's very... very thick.
(AUDIENCE GROANS)
MR. PILGRIM:
So, Squanto... did you look over that Puritan literature I gave you?
SQUANTO:
Look, um... We talked it over with our spirit guides, and it's just not for us.
MR. PILGRIM:
Squanto, this is a golden opportunity! Are you gonna let an owl and a squirrel decide your future?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
POCAHAUNTAS:
Wom-wom Nutkin is a trusted family friend!
At least he doesn't try to sell us this snake oil - er, I mean, corn oil at parties!
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Easy, Pokey! We appreciate your offer, Mr. Pilgrim - but we're very happy with our current belief system.
We-don't-really-care-much-for-the-outfits... We-like-to-sleep-in... We-don't-really-wear shoes...
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
I see. Keep talking. Hey, Honey, could you bring me the LARGE kitchen knife and a shovel?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Aw, shucks. Look at the sky - it's gettin' late...I forgot Pocahauntas and I have a train to catch.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MRS. PILGRIM:
What is this "train" you speak of?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Right - I mean we have a... fish to catch.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
C'mon - stay, stay. Your friends are gonna be here any minute. Let's change the subject...
Do you guys ever feel super sleepy after eating one of those roasted wild birds?
SQUANTO:
Right, right. Because of the tryptophan. Yeah, sure we do.
POCAHAUNTAS:
After a meal like that, Squanto crashes on the floor and sleeps like a baby for hours...
I mean, really like a baby - drools, wets himself -
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
That's funny. Yes.
Er, just out of curiosity...
How long do you think it would take to burn a village to the ground... say, if everyone was asleep?
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
BILLY:
Dad!
POCAHAUNTAS:
That's it! I've had enough of this! C'mon, Squant. We're leaving.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
MR. PILGRIM:
No, no! Don't go, the bird's just about ready to carve! Isn't that right, dear?
MRS. PILGRIM:
(IN TEARS)
Shut up, you Dastard! Can't you see I'm doing the best that I can! It's going to take a few more hours!
(AUDIENCE GASPS, NERVOUS LAUGHTER)
SQUANTO:
Sorry, Pilgrim, we still gotta catch that fish. I'll call you later.
(AUDIENCE LAUGHTER)
BILLY:
Bye, Mister Sqaunto.
SUZY:
Bye, Bye, Wampas!
MRS. PILGRIM:
This was so nice! Maybe we should do this every year.
POCAHAUNTAS:
A year isn't long enough to forget you sick, stupid people.
(DOOR SLAM)
MR. PILGRIM:
Wait! We forgot to give you smallpox! Aw, For the love of curd!
(PAUSE)
MRS. PILGRIM:
That went well.
MR. PILGRIM:
You think so?
BILLY:
That wasn't nearly as bad as that time we had the Catholics over.
MR. PILGRIM:
We still have 88 more converts to go.
(DOORBELL)
That could be more of them now. How's that bird coming along?
MRS. PILGRIM:
Burn with the devil, you impotent son of a wench!
(AUDIENCE SHOCK SURPRISE:
OOOH!)
SUZY:
Oh, mom! Not in front of the K-I-D-S!
SUZY, BILLY, DAD AND MOM:
(LONG ANNOYING LAUGH)
(DOORBELL CONTINUES TO RING AND IS IGNORED AS ALL LAUGH)
(AUDIENCE APPLAUSE UP)
(*5 INT. STUDIO-LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
And now FAL.net presents the Screaming Planet Players in "The Last Thanksgiving".
(MUSIC:
SCREAMING PLANET THEATER MUSICAL THEME)
(PRERECORDED)
BUDDY LEE:
Greetings, meal tickets. Representing the Screaming Planet Theatre, Erik Lobo.
*(LIVE)
ERIK LOBO:
It's a known fact that by the end of the twentieth century,
we were watched by an inferior intelligence.
While we played Tetris on our cellular phones and selected gourmet cat food,
they judged and studied us with the intense focus of a clinic nurse examining the microscopic creatures
that swarm and multiply in the nether regions of a West Sacramento prostitute.
Feeling empowered and superior,
we networked, shmoozed, hip-hopped, surfed and bungied the planet,
taking for granted our control
over this tiny metaphorical crouton in the side salad of our galaxy...
which by fluke or plan man has been served out of the darkened overpriced restaurant of infinity.
These "simple minded" and "unproductive" beasts
planned to take this screaming planet away from us on the eve of a Thanksgiving Day,
in golden years of the early twenty-first century.
It was last week of November. The economy was booming.
The Mary Kay Computer virus scare was over. Unemployment was virtually nonexistent.
Middle-aged men were losing those unsightly love handles.
Nuclear warheads, red meat, alcohol, smoking and cellular phones were all but banned.
Science engineered a food additive that forced us to be more involved with our families.
On this particular evening, sixty-two million people
were enjoying this broadcast of Dutch Falconi and his Twisted Orchestra.
(PRERECORDED MUSIC:
"POTATOES, CARROTS AND YOU"
BY DUTCH FALCONI AND HIS TWISTED ORCHESTRA)
(LIVE)
STORMIN' NORMA:
...This is Stormin' Norma at the Mo' Better Weather Center. Four-letter forecast for tomorrow:
D... A... M... N - Damn! There's a teensy-weensy atmospheric disturbance of unknown origin
up over Seattle, pushing down a fast-moving low pressure scoop over the western states,
bringing a forecast of showers, along with some harsh winds with an expected high of 62; low 49.
This weather report is brought to you by Meow-Say-Tongue, gourmet cat food. . . .
And now, let's see what's happening for the holidays with another Community Calendar.
(MUSIC:
CLASSICAL GUITAR)
NPR GUY:
The Sacramento Area Cultural Awareness Committee presents
a calendar of community events for Thanksgiving Day.
Starting at 6 p.m. at historic Sutter's Fort,
in honor of the first thanksgiving,
there will be an authentic Indian corn-grinding demonstration and laser challenge.
After enjoying authentic 1600's recipes,
dress up as a pilgrim or native American and shoot it out with cyborgs in day-glo BMX armor.
(PAUSE)
5 - 7 p.m., At the University of California at Davis Campus,
the Davis Aggies cheerleaders will be showing homeless families how to keep fit this holiday season
by teaching callisthenics, pop-locking, dance moves, cheers and team spirit
in their semi-annual event, "Jump For Food."
Needy participants, upon earning their certificates,
will be eligible for a free government surplus Holiday Pumpkin Log.
ANNOUNCER TWO:
We interrupt this program to bring you a special FAL news bulletin.
At 9:27, pacific standard time, Professor Frost of the Feldman Memorial Observatory in Lake Tahoe
reported several distortions in the sky to the Northwest.
Computer analysis indicates these gaseous anomalies are moving towards California at high speed.
(*6 INT. OBSERVATORY)
PROFESSOR FROST:
They're like, uh... electric purple flowers blossoming in the clouds.
Wait! Don't go - I'm so very lonely here...
(*7 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
We now return to our regularly scheduled program, already in progress...
(COMMUNITY CALENDAR - IN PROGRESS)
(MUSIC:
CLASSICAL GUITAR)
NPR GUY:
11 a.m. to 1 p.m. - The Elk Grove chapter of the NRA, Raley's Food Stores and the Frontage Road Shooting Range
are having their 4th Annual "Frozen Turkey Skeet Shoot-Off."
Test your aim as 30-pounders are catapulted 800 yards downrange.
You hit it - you win it.
Toddlers can join in the fun by shooting live rounds at pies and popular side dishes at their own kiddie range.
ANNOUNCER #2:
In a followup to an earlier story,
the Brotherhood of Meteorologists and Astronomers Local 114
has sued the Feldman Observatory.
FAL News wishes to apologize for interviewing a non-dues-paying astronomer...
In a few moments we'll take you to the National Space Cadet Academy Reserve
in Blue Slag, New Mexico.
Until then, we rejoin our scheduled broadcast.
(COMMUNITY CALENDAR IN PROGRESS)
(MUSIC:
CLASSICAL GUITAR)
NPR GUY:
...(Thanks)giving Day:
11pm to 3am. At the Natural Foods Co-op, enjoy an empowering, non-alcoholic, football-free,
meatless alternative to the male-dominated Thanksgiving Holiday
as Assertive women, lesbians and effeminate men
celebrate their sisterhood in the fourth annual "Women Take Back The Turkey Day."
A complete tofu-urkey dinner is only $19.00
and your inner child eats free.
(*8 INT. SPACE CENTER)
(ECHO CHAMBER. FX:
COMPUTER SOUNDS, CONTROL)
GIL:
This is Gil Rinser, FAL news.
I am now here at the NASCAR space center in Blue Slag, New Mexico
with Sid Morton, famous astronomer.
SID:
Krylon is in the sixth house of style,
with Saturn six degrees from Kevin Bacon.
I predict this would be a good time to end a relationship or begin a new relationship...
or play the lotto.
GIL:
What the hell are you talking about?
SID:
You must be a freakin' Taurus! Your aura is fuzzy,
your fortune is affected by negative energy and your attitude stinks!
GIL:
... It is my understanding that you are an astronomer.
SID:
That's correct! I am Sid Morton, Astrologer. . . to the stars!
GIL:
Astrologer? No, I said astronomer!
SID:
What's wrong with astrology, you faithless dork!
GIL:
Er, nothing... We're investigating the cloud-like energy bursts in our skies...
We were hoping to speak with an authority.
SID:
Great! Once again, the mystic arts are kicked in the crotch by science!
GIL:
I'm... sorry. Do you have an opinion?
SID:
My opinion of you, Mr. Rinser, is that you are a pencil-chewing dork-wad.
As for this mysterious meshuganah, these bursts are affecting
the accuracy of my psychic readings.
Gaseous cosmic build-up causes the edges of other dimensions
to slip into our reality... I like to call them "time-space farts".
GIL:
What do you think is behind all this time/space flatulence, Mister Morton?
SID:
Not turkey chili, Mr. Rinser - although who knows what the hell they're eating
in parallel planes of existence.
GIL:
Do you really believe that there are intelligent life forms
living in another dimension?
SID:
Right now, I'm not sure there's intelligent life in this one. Oy!
GIL:
By the way, I have an astrology question concerning my love life.
Am I going to meet someone in the future?
SID:
Yeah. yeah. there's this girl who likes you...
She has a "R" or and "E" or an "S" somewhere in her name...
GIL:
Nina?
SID:
Yeah. That's the one. You're gonna ask her out.
GIL:
Wow, That's amazing.
(OFF MIKE)
Thank you, Mister Morton.
(*9 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER #2:
Sorry to interrupt, Gil. I've just been handed a fax.
"Spirograph readings are off the chart at San Andreas Elementary School,
registering an earthquake-like shock within a radius of twenty miles..."
(*10 INT. SPACE CENTER)
GIL:
Mister Morton, could this have something to do with the disturbances
observed in the sky?
SID:
Smoke another one, Gil. This is obviously a prank.
Why don't you call in Scooby-Doo to solve this one?
SID:
Let's go back to the studio.
(BUMP MUSIC)
(*11 INT. STUDIO)
MOE BETTER MANN:
This is MOE BETTER MANN, FAL News.
An airline pilot reports observing three explosions
in the skies over Woodland, between 7:45 P.M. and 9:20 P.M., pacific standard time.
This confirms earlier reports from various satilites and observatories.
Now, in our own backyard, near a fanny pack factory outlet store
at Woodland, California, gigantic purple electrical storms
are spewing what is believed to be remains of a weather balloon to earth.
The flashes were visible within several hundred miles,
and rumblings were heard as far west as Bosco's Chicken And Ribs off I-80.
Our own Gil Rinser is on his way to the scene
in the FAL Newstracker Chopper Copter,
to bring us the story as it unfolds.
For now, let's return to our regularly scheduled program, already in progress.
(BUMP MUSIC)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
We take you now to Woodland, California.
(*12 EXTERIOR CRASH SITE)
(CROWD NOISES . . . POLICE SIRENS)
GIL:
Thanks, Moe and Announcer Number Two. This is Gil Rinser, FAL News,
at the fanny pack factory outlet store at Woodland.
Astrologer to the Stars Sid Morton and I got here pretty fast,
thanks to Brad Chivo in FAL Newstracker Chopper Copter.
It's... a pretty strange scene here, There seems to be thick purple fog in the air.
"Excuse me while I kiss the sky"-
(SMALL MOUTH-SMACKING NOISE)
...Yes, it seems to have a salty taste... kinda like chicken broth, or gravyish.
This is one big-ass weather balloon. It's directly in front of me,
half buried in a factory parking lot. Must've hit with incredible force -
the concrete is broken up, and cars are smashed and turned over.
Well, That doesn't look like any weather balloon I've seen.
The object could be a blimp, or a Thanksgiving parade balloon.
But it really looks more like... a huge covered serving platter.
It's really big, like the size of a school bus...
what would you say, Sid?
SID
(OFF-MIKE):
Huh?
GIL:
How big is it?
SID:
That's none of your beeswax, fruity!
GIL:
Anyway, it's like the size of a school bus.
SID:
Well, I wouldn't say that. I'd say it's about average.
GIL:
...The metal on the dome is sort of chromish.
Rubberneckers are now trying to get a glimpse in spite of the police
trying to keep them back. There's a mob crowding in front of me.
(TO MOB)
Excuse me, please?
POLICEMAN:
Go back to your homes, nothing to see here.
Back away, or we will be have no other choice but to use unnecessary force.
(13 INT. STUDIO - PRERECORDED)
(CUT TO SPONSOR:
HOMESTYLE STUFFING)
HOMESTYLE STUFFING GUY:
Happy Thanksgiving from all of us at Homestyle Stuffing.
We know very well that you undoubtedly serve Homestyle Stuffing
with your holiday turkey. But do you ever stop to consider the senseless slaughter
of these innocent birds? Over 62 million of God's creatures
are destroyed this time of year just so we can "give thanks."
We at Homestyle Stuffing believe the noble turkey is misunderstood.
We believe that just because a creature is awkward and has low intellegence,
it doesn't mean its life is less valuable than a smarter or more graceful creature...
such as... the dolphin.
Because of protection from animal rights groups, dolphins are now so plentiful in number
that they threaten the extinction of smaller, less politically important fish
that live in our oceans and waterways. For years, Greenpeace, PETA and other groups
have hidden from you the simple truth - dolphin meat is juicy, tender and flavorful.
Instead of contributing to the madness this year...
Most dolphins trust humans. If you live near the tropics, the African coast
or any ocean theme park, gently bludgeon one, striking just below the blowhole
with a club or blunt object. As he lay unconscious,
snap his beak and fins off with a large bolt cutter
and hang him upside-down on a steel hook.
At this point he may awaken and start to thrash around.
Quickly stuff his blowhole with Homestyle Almond Stuffing until his lungs are full
and he stops moving. Cook the whole dolphin slowly in a large adobe kiln -
like the kind used in pottery-making. Cook to desired doneness,
about 6-8 hours per side... or until juices run clear.
Slice dolphin across the grain, diagonally,
and place in the center of a warmed plate.
Serve with wilted greens and a huge dollop of Homestyle Almond Stuffing.
Garnish with enoki mushrooms and lime wedges.
The slices may be brushed with dolphin gravy, made from two cups of the mammals' blood
and a stick of butter, if desired. One large dolphin yields 26 servings.
Enjoy this humane alternative holiday dish, courtesy of Homestyle Stuffing...
and save us the dorsal fin!
(LIVE BACK TO GIL)
(*14 INT. CRASH SITE)
GIL:
While the policemen are pushing the crowd back,
here's Mr. Lee - owner of the fanny pack factory outlet here.
He may have some new information... Mr. Lee, please tell our audience
what happened when this unidentified object crashed here?
Mr. Lee! Over here, please...
BUDDY LEE:
Greetings, meal tickets. This is "Buddy" Lee - entrepreneur, media mogul
and owner of many discount stores, including the fabulous fanny pack outlet store
here in Woodland. I was inside, firing a few slacker employees -
so that we could roll back prices on some of our most popular models...
GIL:
What exactly happened? Did you see it land?
BUDDY LEE:
I heard this sizzling sound - like one of my delicious ostrich burgers
frying to perfection, available in your grocer's freezer.
Just look for the box with your favorite FAL-dot-net cartoon characters. I heard a crash.
Knocked me right on my keister. It was like something out of
"Giant Angry Robot: The Movie II" - in theatres this Christmas.
No passes or discounts allowed the first two weeks.
But when I came out, I smelled this thick soupy smell.
Which reminds me, if you save 12 labels from "Nuke Nova Radioactive Pasta,"
you can get this neat poster.
(SOUND OF POSTER BEING UNROLLED)
GIL:
Thank you, Mr. Lee.
BUDDY LEE:
Wait! I forgot to mention the trading cards!
GIL:
No. That's... that's enough. Thank you.
BUDDY LEE:
What's your name?
GIL:
You've just heard Mr. "Buddy" Lee, media mogul
and owner of the Fanny Pack factory outlet, where this bizarre thing has fallen.
BUDDY LEE:
Get me his name. He's fired!
GIL:
I wish I could convey the atmosphere - the mood of this... fantastic scene.
Hundreds of cars are parked in back of us.
Police are trying to rope off the roadway leading to the factory outlet -
but it's no use. They're breaking right through.
Cars' headlights are spotlighting the crash site.
Some daredevils are now venturing near the edge.
Their silhouettes stand out from the shiny metallic surface.
(FAINT SIZZLING SOUND)
One man wants to touch it...
MAN:
It's beautiful. I must touch it.
GIL:
He's arguing with the police.
The officer sprays him in the face with pepper spray...
The man backs down.
(PAUSE)
What is that?
Are you getting this? It's getting louder.
I didn't notice it in all the excitement,
but perhaps you've heard it already. Listen...
(LONG PAUSE)
Do you hear it?
It's a strange sizzling sound that seems to come from inside the object.
I'll move the mike closer.
(PAUSE)
Now we're about 25 feet away. Can you hear it?
(SIZZLING NOISE, SCRAPING NOISE)
Excuse me - Mr. Morton?
SID:
What?
GIL:
Can you tell us the meaning of that... scraping noise inside the thing?
SID:
What the hell do I look like, Agent Mulder?
GIL:
I see. Do you still think it's a weather balloon, Mr. Morton?
SID:
Do YOU still think this meshugina silver dome's a damn weather balloon?
GIL:
Just a minute - something's happening!
Ladies and gentlemen, this is incredible!
The top of this thing is beginning to lift off! Like a lid!
It's seemingly hollow inside!
MAN #2:
Look! Oh, my god! The damn thing's opening!
POLICEMAN:
Keep back, there! Keep back!
MAN #2:
Maybe survivors trying to get out!
POLICEMAN:
Back off! Keep those jackasses back!
(CLANKING SOUND OF METAL, CROWD VOICES)
MAN #1:
It's open -
POLICEMAN:
- Look out, there -
MAN #1:
- The top's up -
POLICEMAN:
- Stand back!
GIL:
This is the most terrifying thing I have ever witnessed.
I'm feeling a trickle down my pant-leg -
Wait a minute! Someone's crawling out from under bowl-like top.
Someone or... something... a sort of a headlight shining out at me...
Is that an eye? Just below it - a beak?
It might be...
(SHOUT OF AWE FROM THE CROWD)
GIL:
Good lord, something's waddling out - like a giant bird.
Now there's another one, and another.
They look like they have small wings for arms.
There - I can see the thing's body.
It's huge, taller than a pro basketball player, with the body shape of a pear,
and it's wearing a sort of a space suit with a clear dome-helmet on top.
But that face - it...
Despite the huge lone eye, it looks much like a ...turkey.
I can hardly force myself to keep looking at it. That eye, gleaming... unblinking.
The beak has that red wattle thing, and the neck is long and fleshy.
Kind of Ronald Reagan-ish. The monster or whatever appears clumsy.
It almost fell over a couple times -
The thing's raising up.
The crowd recoils in horror. Kind of like a Rolling Stones concert.
They've seen enough. This is the most extraordinary experience. I can't find words...
I'll have to stop until I can find a safer position. Please, stand by...
(15 INT. STUDIO-PRERECORDED)
(FADE INTO MUSIC)
(PSA AND BUMP MUSIC)
MR. SAFETY MAN:
To some, a Thanksgiving turkey can be a luscious holiday feast.
However, many forget to be safe when giving the family the bird.
The Safety Men's Association Presents - Five Tips For Turkey Day!
#1:
Turkeys are filthy.
Genetically engineered from a petri dish,
Tom Turkey spends his entire life with hundreds of his brothers
cramped in a filth-soaked cage, up to his breast in feces
in an orgy of defecation. He's eats nothing but plastic shavings
and anabolic steroids. These bloated mutations are slaughtered
when they are 4 days old - if allowed to grow to adulthood,
they would develop hooves or a pony's head.
#2:
A crammed refrigerator is a breeding ground
for E. Coli contamination!
Before you put your already-contaminated turkey
and all the trimmings in the fridge (A/K/A the virus incubator),
throw away all out-of-date and non-festive foods -
like those half-empty jars of relish, plum sauce and Ragu
that have rattled around inside the door-shelf since the Reagan administration.
Wipe down the inside with bleach, ammonia, rock salt and lye
before putting in the bird.
Store milk, beer and wine outside
and cover with a towel to protect from sunlight, birds and the homeless.
#3:
Bacteria are like hitchhikers - they deserve to die.
Have everyone in the family scrub their bodies with a hard brush and disinfectant
before sitting down at the holiday table.
Avoid direct hand contact with prepared foods -
especially if you have watery stools.
Use clean utensils, tongs, masks and surgical gloves at all times -
even at the dinner table.
After cooking the turkey, your family should remove all clothing
and burn it in the front yard.
#4.
Don't stuff the rectum.
Do not put dressing in the body cavity of the turkey.
Nobody wants to eat stuffing that has been shoved up a bird's anus -
instead, shove in a sock full of urinal cakes or mothballs
and add some cedar chips for flavor.
#5.
When in doubt, throw it out!
If you have any concerns... dump the bird in a Hefty bag,
throw it in the incinerator and drive the entire family to the nearest Denny's.
Don't worry - if they love you and care about safety, they will understand.
The Safety Men's Association
thanks you in advance for your co-operation,
and wishes you and your family a happy and safe Thanksgiving.
(NEWS BUMP MUSIC)
(LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening
at the parking lot of the fanny pack factory outlet at Woodland, California.
(*16 EXT. NEAR CRASH SITE)
(CUT TO:
OUTDOORS, QUIET CROWDS)
GIL:
Here I... Am I on?
Here I am, behind a concrete wall near Mr. Lee's outlet store.
From here I've got a... "concrete wall's view" of the whole scene.
I'll give you every detail for as long as I'm able to see.
Highway Patrol officers have arrived. They're blocking off the scene
with yellow tape. No need to push the crowd back now -
apparently, they've seen enough. The captain is talking with someone.
We can't quite see who... Oh yes, - I believe it's Sid Morton. Yes, it is.
SID:
I hope this works! All I have is twenty bucks... I could go to the ATM?
POLICEMAN:
No, no. That's fine. Sergeant, Where's that pool boy?
GIL:
The officer takes something from the astrologer.
Now they've parted. The captain and two policemen advance
with something in their hands.
I can see it now. It's a twenty-dollar bill stuffed inside of a swimming pool net...
a bribe. The symbol of American friendship and trust.
The long pole stretches out... waving the twenty in front of them.
I pray those creatures know what that means -
what anything means!...
Wait! Something's happening!
(SIZZLING SOUND, "GOBBLE" SOUNDS UP)
GIL:
A fowl shape steps forward. I can make out a small covered dish, gleaming,
like a tiny toy boat clutched in its wing.
What's that?
There's a jet of brown liquid springing from the tiny spout...
and it's spraying right at the advancing police.
It strikes them head-on!
Good Lord, they're soaked with steaming liquid!
(SEARING SOUND, FLAMES)
POLICEMAN:
(SCREAMS!)
(SCREAMS AND UNEARTHLY SHRIEKS)
GIL:
Horrible!
(CHOKES)
The smell of gravy is overpowering!
("GLORPING" SOUNDS)
The liquid is spreading rapidly...
trees... roads...
(BOOM, BOOM)
...the heat is igniting the gas tanks of cars...
It's spreading everywhere. It's coming this way.
About twenty yards to my right -
(DEAD SILENCE)
(*17 INT. STUDIO)
(NEWS MUSIC BUMP)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Due to circumstances beyond our control,
we are unable to continue the broadcast from Woodland.
Evidently there's some difficulty with our signal hookup.
However, we'll try to re-establish contact as soon as possible.
Right now, we go live to Sammy's Family Restaurant in Del Paso Heights.
The Reverend Doctor Lucius Dacron is speaking
at a dinner of the Brotherhood of Meteorologists and Astronomers Local 114.
(*17 INT. PANCAKE HOUSE)
DACRON:
The bursts in our skies are undoubtedly nothing more than space shuttle fuel
that's been dumped in the atmosphere.
Furthermore, I did not have sexual relations with that wom-
(PRERECORDED THANKSGIVING SONG:
THE FOURTH THURSDAY IN NOVEMBER)
It is the fourth Thursday in November
In these United States
And we're going to remember
As we fill up our plates
Thank you thank you thank you thank you pilgrims
Thank you thank you thank you for the pride
Thank you thank you all native Amer'kins
For coming to the white oppressor's side
Thank you thank you thank you to the grocer
Thank you to the turkey farmer too
Thank you all you advertisers for sure
Oh yeah... and God:
thank You
This is the holiday we're grateful
We weren't born someplace else
Which turned out to be fateful
Viva le difference
Oh - Thank you thank you thank you thank you pilgrims
Thank you thank you thank you for the pride
Thank you thank you all native Amer'kins
For coming to the white oppressor's side
Thank you thank you thank you to the grocer
Thank you to the turkey farmer too
Thank you all you advertisers for sure
Oh yeah... and God: thank You
Oh yeah... and God: thank You
(*18 INT. STUDIO - LIVE)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
We interrupt to bring you an update from Woodland.
At least forty people and six Highway Patrolmen lie dead in a field
east of the fanny pack factory outlet stores,
their bodies burned and distorted beyond all possible recognition...
although this one kind of looks like a elephant or a tree
if you turn your head to one side.
The next voice you'll hear is that of Reich General Zachary Smith,
commander of the Federal Emergency Take-Over Agency at Rancho Cordova.
(*19 EXT. FETA HQ)
SMITH:
It is my duty to inform you
that the authority of the Governor of California
has been turned over to our agency.
The counties of Yolo, Sutter, Sacramento, and Placer
are now under martial law. No one will be permitted to enter this area
except by a special pass issued by Federal Emergency Take-Over Agency
or military authorities under our control.
Gun enthusiasts, tax evaders, hippies, blacks and Hispanics
will be rounded up and forced into work brigades,
splitting up families as we deem it necessary.
Four companies of national guardsmen are proceeding from Rancho Cordova to Woodland,
to aid in the evacuation of homes
and the seizure of expensive household items and liquor
within the range of military operations.
We assure you that the gunfire you hear
is simply our black helicopters killing all the birds
within the four-county perimeter.
Thank you.
(*20 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
That was Reich General Zachary Smith
commanding the Federal Emergency Take-Over Agency at Rancho Cordova.
We have more details of the Woodland tragedy.
After unleashing their deadly assault, the strange creatures
scampered back into their covered-serving-platter-like craft.
They have done nothing to prevent firefighters from recovering the bodies
and extinguishing the fire. However, The combined fire departments of Yolo
and Sutter Counties plan on attempting such a recovery
as soon as they finish their current task -
fighting the flames from a tire fire that started in Dixon three days ago.
I've been unable to contact our FAL Newstracker Chopper Copter at Woodland,
but we hope to return there in just a moment. For now, we take you -
One moment please.
(LONG PAUSE)
ASSISTANT:
(WHISPER, OFF-MIKE)
We've found an eyewitness.
ANNOUNCER #2:
I have just been informed
that we have finally established communication with an eyewitness of the tragedy.
ASSISTANT:
(WHISPER)
Your zipper's down.
ANNOUNCER #2:
And my zipper is down.
ASSISTANT:
(WHISPER)
Don't say that out loud.
ANNOUNCER #2:
And it is not neccessary to repeat that out loud.
ASSISTANT:
(WHISPER)
It's Sid Morton... He's set up at the mini-mart.
ANNOUNCER #2:
Astrologer to the stars Sid Morton
has been located at a convenience store in Woodland
where he has established an emergency psychic reading post.
As an astrologer, he will give you his explanation of the calamity.
Sid Morton, Are you there?
(PRERECORDED)
21 INT. STUDIO CUT WITH SID ON PHONE IN STORE
(FEEDBACK, ECHO, FILTERED VOICE)
SID:
Wha? Hello?
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Are you near a radio or something?
SID:
Huh?
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Turn your radio off!
SID:
Oh. Okay. These creatures -
(CRAZY FEEDBACK, ECHO)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Is it off?
SID:
I turned it down.
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Turn it off!
SID:
Turn it up?
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Turn it off!
(LIVE)
SID:
(VOICE FILTERED, FEEDBACK AND ECHO GONE)
Sorry. These creatures in the dome at Woodland, it's not certain...
what these things are, where they come from, or why they are here.
I suspect they may have slipped here from some strange Otherworld,
possibly San Francisco.
Of the deadly device, I presume it's some sort of a hot liquid dispenser.
Some survivors have called it "The Gravy Boat Of Death."
ANNOUNCER TWO:
Thank you, Sid Morton.
We now go to Seattle, where technology expert Liam Martin explains
how such a device might work.
(22 INT. COMPUTER LAB)
LIAM:
It's clear that the technology of these creatures is far more advanced than ours.
It is my guess that the spout can tap into a limitless supply of this "gravy"
from a pan-dimensional chamber. They can direct a spray against any target,
its blistering heat roasting anything and everything in its path...
(*23 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER TWO:
This just in from Rancho Cordova.
It is a brief statement informing us that the charred body of Gil Rinser
has been identified in a Rancho Cordova med clinic.
And we've learned ten units of United Red Cross emergency workers
have been dispatched to the FETA command post outside Woodland,
immediately after they've looted the best of the donated food and clothing.
Authorities report the fires at Woodland and the tire inferno in Dixon are still raging.
There's still no sign of life, however, appearing from the mouth of the dome...
And now, we have a special statement from Mr. "Buddy" Lee,
media mogul and owner of this station.
LEE:
Greetings meal tickets,
we have received a request from the - uh, FEMUR militia
to place at their disposal our entire broadcasting and multimedia facilities.
In view of the current emergency,
and the fact that I've always suspected in the back of my mind
the media has a responsibility to serve the public interest,
we are turning over our facilities to the -
er, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals?
ASSISTANT:
- Federal Emergency Take-over Agency.
LEE:
...FETA? That's a damn cheese!
Anyway, those crackpots in Rancho.
And right now we have a request from General Smith for some new age Jazz...
(PRERECORDED NEW AGE JAZZ)
BUDDY LEE:
(OVER MUSIC)
I guess those Loopy conspiracy nuts were right after all. Good for them.
Am I on?
ANNOUNCER TWO:
We take you now to the field headquarters of the FETA
near the fanny pack factory outlet at Woodland.
(*24 EXT. CRASH SITE - MILITARY FORCES)
MR. SAFETY MAN:
This is Mister Safety Man,
commanding Troop 62 of the Junior Safety Scouts,
attached to the FETA military operations here in Woodland.
Situation arising from the reported presence of certain individuals of unidentified nature
is now under complete control. The dome-topped object
which crashed into a parking lot directly below our position
is surrounded on all sides by eight battalions of infantry,
national guard, marines, salvation army, security guards, Lazer Tag teams,
college football players, Scouts, Brownies, Bluebirds -
heavily armed with assault rifles. There is no cause for alarm.
We have everything under control.
(PRERECORDED SOLDIER ON MEGAPHONE)
GUNNER:
We have you surrounded!
(TURKEY MEN ARE HEARD RESPONDING FROM INSIDE DOME)
TURKEY MEN:
Gob-Gob-Gob Gobble-Gobble!
GUNNER:
Surrender at once!
TURKEY MEN:
Gob-Gobble Gob-Gobble!
GUNNER:
Come out with your hands up!
TURKEY MEN:
Gob gob gob gobble Gobble-gob!
GUNNER:
This is serious!
TURKEY MEN:
Gob-Gob Gobgobble!
GUNNER:
Stop copying me!
TURKEY MEN:
Gob Gobby-gobby Gobb!
GUNNER:
Quit it!
TURKEY MEN:
Gobble-Gob!
*(LIVE)
MR. SAFETY MAN:
These bird-men, whatever they are, won't dare stick their heads out.
They won't stand a chance against heavy machine-gun fire.
Like the Book Of Mormon says:
"There's no problem known to man that can't be solved by deadly force."
Anyway, it's a nice warm night. The troops are talking about ordering pizza.
Lots of hot guys - er, men in uniform,
crossing back and forth in front of the lights. It's just like "Starship Troopers".
The fires are still going. Smells like a barbecue.
I hope we see some action soon.
Wait - one of the companies is deploying on the left flank.
This'll be over quicker than the Waco Massacre.
Wait a sec!
GUNNER:
Something movin' at top of the dome!
(CRAZY GUNFIRE)
Cease Fire! Stop! I said, hold your fire! It's just a reflection!
MR. SAFETY MAN:
Wait, that's no glare! It's something moving...
solid metal... kind of cylinder rising up out of the surface of the dome.
Looks like a gigantic tin can...
It's going higher and higher.
Why, it's turning . . .
(GUNFIRE, CAN OPENER SOUND)
The bottom has fallen off.
There's this dark reddish-purple stuff hanging inside.
Now it's hovering above the trees - and the searchlights are on it.
Sludgelike stuff is sliding out.
(25 INT. STUDIO)
(PRERECORDED
ANOTHER THANKSGIVING SONG:
"RELIGIOUS INTOLERANCE")
If it wasn't for persecution
We'd be speaking King's English
Right now
So this is that time of year
when we stop
And pause and realize
What made this country what it is today...
It was religious intolerance
That drove the Mayflower home
To a land ours for the taking
Wherever we may roam
Religious intolerance
It's a blessing in disguise
So let's all be grateful
That our kin was ostracized
[A SHORT, MELLOW SPOKEN-WORD "RANT"]
- - - - - -
From the tree of life,
red, yellow and brown leaves are more fun to crunch under your feet.
It's wrong to treat sweet potatoes and yams the same.
A sweet potato is a painted hussy with a hiked-up skirt.
A yam makes your babies and keeps the house.
Who did you ridicule today?
Remember, when you are pushing someone down, you're really lifting them up.
Tommorow, those people - despite their inferior beliefs or cultures -
may excel at math, money, interior decorating or professional sports.
Pressure makes diamonds.
- - - - - -
It was religious intolerance
That drove the Mayflower home
To a land ours for the taking
Wherever we may roam
Religious intolerance
It's a blessing in disguise
So let's all be grateful
That our kin was ostracized
(LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Hold on. Disturbing and unbelievable as it seems,
because of recent events that have unfolded before our very eyes
we have to conclude that those bizarre bird creatures who landed in Woodland tonight
are the first wave of an invading army from another dimension.
The battle tonight in Woodland has ended in one of the most humiliating defeats
ever suffered by any army since the cancellation of "CPO Sharkey" -
seven thousand men armed with rifles and machine guns
pitted against a single can of reddish goo from the bird-men invaders.
One hundred and twenty known survivors - the rest, cocooned in a Jello-like tomb
spreading from the factory outlet to the Long John Silvers on Main,
suffocated under the tart cranberry mould of the bird men,
or seared by their gravy.
The can is now in Davis - trapping students, bikes and frogs in quivering blobs.
Phone lines are down from Woodland to West Sacramento.
All freeway on-ramps have been shut down - Sacramento, due to cable problems,
is having trouble getting the Game Show Network.
Roadways are clogged with frantic traffic... so, luckily, no real changes there.
Police and army reserves are unable to stop the riots.
By morning the refugees will have swarmed to Sacramento, Roseville, and Rancho Cordova.
Overcrowding is inevitable.
At this time, martial law prevails throughout Northern California.
We take you now to Washington for a special broadcast on the emergency
from the President Of The United States...
(MUSIC:
BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC)
(*26 INT. THE WHITE HOUSE)
PREZ:
Fellow Citizens and unwelcome foreigners:
I will not attempt to conceal the seriousness of the situation
that threatens our country. Your government is doing its best
to protect the lives and property of its people.
(STIFLES LAUGHTER)
Sorry, Let me try again. Are we on live?
Fellow Citizens and unwelcome foreigners:
I will not attempt to conceal the seriousness of the situation
that threatens our country. However, I implore you -
private citizens and public officials, everyone -
there is an urgent need for calm and resourceful action.
Fortunately, this formidable enemy is still confined to northern California,
so all of our precious movie stars' homes are safe,
and we may put our faith in our military forces or the one true God
to keep them there - whoever does the job first.
It is also imperative that we continue performing our everyday duties,
each and every one of us - the basting of our turkeys,
the enforcement of our parking violations,
the flipping of our hamburgers,
the hanging of advertisements on our doorknobs -
so that we may confront this destructive adversary
and still preserve our values, dignity, courage and materialism
to ensure American supremacy over the Godless mutt races of this earth
and any other earths that may exist behind dimensional gateways.
I thank you... and may God bless us all.
(*27 INT. STUDIO INTERCUT CALLER ON PHONE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
You have just heard the President Of The United States speaking from Washington.
Calls and e-mails are flooding into the studio.
One caller wants to know more about these creatures.
CALLER #1:
Um... Yeah... Um. I love the show.
Um, I think you're doing a great job covering the thing in Woodland
with the people dying and stuff. Wow, I can't believe I got through.
Anyway, my wife and I have been following the story,
and we were wondering if the Turkey Men stuff themselves...
ANNOUNCER #1:
We are informed the central portion of Woodland
is affected by a media blackout, due to the effect of the hot gravy
upon power and communication lines - or possibly a Viacom / Disney dispute
over who owns the broadcast rights to holiday disasters.
ANNOUNCER #2:
At the state Capital:
Offers from English, French, German scientific institutions
with difficult-to-pronounce names - offering assistance.
The Brotherhood of Meteorologists and Astronomers Local 114 reports
continued bursts, at regular intervals,
in the skies all over the western part of the united states.
ANNOUNCER #1:
Also - desperate pleas for bread, butter, milk, batteries, Oreo cookies and tampons -
Oh, this one's from my wife.
Uh, experts believe that more enemy reinforcements by additional domed craft
are on their way.
ANNOUNCER #2:
Astronomer Sid Morton, who has observed the Bird-men at close range,
is still missing in action.
Many fear the worst, and some believe he might have been killed.
ANNOUNCER #1:
Reno, Nevada:
Brad Chivo in the FAL Newstracker Chopper Copter
reports three alien cranberry cans spotted above hotels and neon sprawl.
(28 INT. FAL NEWSTRACKER CHOPPER COPTER)
BRAD CHIVO:
There's three of them visible now, moving west towards the state line
with population fleeing ahead of them.
New weapons are... rolling down the streets, crushing everything in their path -
advancing at extreme speeds, they have the appearance of giant dinner rolls.
Irreplaceable neon billboards and street advertisements
are being destroyed without mercy.
(*29 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Power lines are also being uprooted, along with bridges and rails.
They're apparently trying to crush resistance, paralyze communication,
spread panic, lower property values and steal our jobs.
ANNOUCER #2:
Here is a bulletin from West Sacramento:
Some street prostitutes have stumbled on a second domed platter
similar to the Woodland craft, crashed into the Dollar Store,
half a mile south of the Carnal-Copia Motel.
(*30 EXT. WEST CAPITAL AVE.)
HOOKER:
(CHEWING GUM)
Yeah, we seen this thing... and it was big.
(*31 INT. STUDIO)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Army field equipment is proceeding from North Sac
to blow it up before the dome opens
and more bizarre weapons can be deployed.
They are taking up position -
More news from Reno, Nevada, from our eye in the sky...
(32 INT. FAL NEWSTRACKER CHOPPER COPTER)
BRAD CHIVO:
...three pie pan-shaped craft are now joining the giant cans
increasing speed westward -
knocking over trees, powerlines and whorehouses in their haste,
possibly to meet with their allies in the Sacramento area.
(*33 INT. STUDIO INTERCUT CALLER)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Battle-ready bread rolls also sighted by a trucker at Woodchuck's,
two miles west of Tahoe. We have another eyewitness on the line.
CALLER #2:
I'm at Raley Field, in West Sac.
A fleet of stealth bombers, flying overhead, south in pursuit of enemy.
ANNOUNCER #1:
One moment please.
We've got a satellite hookup at the military front line
to give you live reports from the 429th Field Artillery,
located at The Kool Whip Motor Lodge.
(*34 EXT. WEST CAPITAL AVE. - MILTARY FORCES)
OFFICER:
Range, sixty-two meters.
GUNNER:
Sixty-two meters.
OFFICER:
Projection, forty-nine degrees.
GUNNER:
Forty-nine degrees.
OFFICER:
Fire!
(BOOM OF HEAVY GUN)
(PAUSE)
OBSERVER:
I forgot to put the shell in, sir.
OFFICER:
Damnit, rookie!
Okay, range . . . sixty-one meters.
GUNNER:
I thought it was Sixty-two meters.
OFFICER:
Right. Projection . . . forty-nine degrees.
GUNNER:
Forty-nine degrees.
OFFICER:
Fire!
(BOOM OF HEAVY GUN)
(PAUSE)
OBSERVER:
A miss, sir!
We hit that gas station across the street.
The fire seems to be melting their cranberry goo, though.
We burnt one of the rolls too, sir.
OFFICER:
Quick, get the range! Shift thirty meters.
GUNNER:
Thirty meters?
OFFICER:
Projection . . . twenty-seven degrees.
GUNNER:
Twenty-seven degrees? That would send it straight into Blockbuster Video...
OFFICER:
I've got a few late returns I'd like to settle...
OFFICER:
Fire!
(BOOM OF HEAVY GUN)
(PAUSE)
OBSERVER:
Can't see where the shell went, sir. It was absorbed by that white cloud.
OFFICER:
What is it?
OBSERVER:
A thick fog or foam, sir. Moving this way. Lying close to the ground. It's moving fast.
OFFICER:
Put on gas masks.
(PAUSE)
(VOICES NOW MUFFLED)
Get ready to fire. Shift twenty-seven meters.
GUNNER:
Twenty-seven meters.
OFFICER:
Projection, twenty-nine degrees.
GUNNER:
Twenty-nine degrees.
OFFICER:
Fire!
(BOOM)
OBSERVER:
Still can't see, sir. The cloud is coming nearer.
("SLOPPY" SOUNDS)
OFFICER:
Get the range.
What the hell? Get this crap off me!
OBSERVER:
That ain't no cloud!
GUNNER:
How many meters, sir?
Ooh, ick!
OBSERVER:
Get the hell to safety!
It's freakin'... mashed potatoes!
(FADE-IN SLOPPY SOUNDS)
(35 INT. STUDIO - PRERECORDED)
(PSA MUSIC)
MR. SAFETY-MAN:
This is MR. SAFETY MAN.
Now you know the Five Tips For Turkey Day...
But you may not know that failure to comply with these tips
may result in E. Coli O-157 symptoms, head- and stomach-aches, vomiting,
watery stools and later bloody stools,
that may progress into hemolytic uremic syndrome... resulting in bloody urine,
then poor urination, resulting in kidney problems, lapse of consciousness,
brain damage and kidney failure, respetory failure and even death.
Carriers of O-157 can be determined only by stool tests.
This year we are giving out free stool sample kits.
Immediately after the family Thanksgiving dinner,
fill each of these sturdy cardboard cups with your fecal waste.
Younger family members, help the elderly.
Label with name, address, and telephone number
and place on your front curb facing the street
with a large sign that says, "HUMAN WASTE - DO NOT THROW AT HOUSE."
The safety-mobile will pick them up as early as possible the next day for evaluation.
The Safety Men's Association
thanks you in advance for your co-operation
and wishes you and your family a happy and safe Thanksgiving.
(*36 INT. PLANE - LIVE)
(CUT TO SOUND OF PLANE MOTOR)
AIR COMMANDER:
Stealth bomber M-15-95 over target,
Lieutenant Blaith commanding eight bombers. Over.
General Smith, Raley Field - this is Blaith, reporting to General Smith, Raley Field...
Enemy rolls and canisters now in sight, reinforced by three pie tins
and three canisters from the Reno dome... Nine bogeys altogether.
One roll and one cranberry can crippled from a gasoline explosion.
Thick white... fluff of unknown origin covers the streets.
Guns are now silenced. No sign of hot gravy.
Enemy now turning east, crossing the River into Old Sacramento.
Bread rolls bouncing over the Tower Bridge. Evident objective is the Capitol.
They've just destroyed a local internet provider and a credit union.
Their weapons are close together now -
and we're ready for an air strike. We're coming up on the first pie pan craft...
Here's our chance to get rid of some of this surplus napalm!
There they go! An orange wedge is raising up out of the pan...
(SPLAT)
We're hit! Orange glop everywhere! The smell of pumpkin - overpowering!
The engines are cutting out. We're going into a dive!
Sweet Mother Mary of...
(SOUND - PLANE GOES DOWN)
(37 LINE COMMUNICATION MONTAGE - PRERECORDED)
CALLER #2:
Raley Field... Raley Field... Come in, please . . .
MEDIA PHONE GUY:
Welcome to Military Phone.
If you know the branch of the military you'd like to reach, press 1 now. . .
CALLER #2:
Eight stealth bombers in engagement with enemy over Old Sacramento.
Engines incapacitated by pumpkin pie-like substance - all crashed.
One enemy pie pan craft destroyed.
Enemy now discharging heavy white fluff in direction of -
MEDIA PHONE:
If you'd like contact the emergency broadcast system, press 1.
(SOUND - TOUCH TONE)
If you know the name of the emergency you'd like to declare...
(SOUNDS - TOUCH TONE, EBS ALERT NOISE)
EBS GUY:
This is an actual emergency. For reals.
No, I'm serious... This is not another one of those annoying tests.
Don't change the channel! Please!
There's a deadly white fog of starchy matter pouring from the river into town.
Okay, mashed potatoes! I'm not kidding!
The military urges you to climb up on your roof with a shovel...
Spuds now spreading over Capitol Avenue and J Street -
Screw this! I'm stealin' a shovel, and getting the hell outta Dodge!
TRUCKER:
Breaker 19. Breaker 19.
This is "Spreadin' Ready" -
there's lotsa bears in the air
and I'm running into some kinda white fog.
Wanna catch some help getting my 18-wheeler full of butter home,
come back! Anybody got their ears on?
TRUCKER #2:
Ten roger! This is "Mayflower7".
Don't tense, Speadin' Ready.
It's deadly mashed potatoes from the mutant turkeys!
You got a copy on me?
TRUCKER #1:
Roger... er, I'm not following your trucker lingo.
Could you say that again in English? Come back -
TRUCKER #2:
Negatory.
No joke, "Spreadin' Ready" - you better hammer down
or you're gonna pull the big one. Over.
TRUCKER #1:
Mercy - mercy sakes!
Spuds wall to wall!
It's too late, I'm gone!
Tell my old lady and the kids
to keep their nose between the ditches and Smokey out of their britches-
(GLASS BREAKING, "GLORPING" SOUNDS)
(SCREAM!)
(*38 EXT. SAN FRANCISCO ROOFTOP - LIVE)
(SIREN OVER CITY, GRADUALLY DIMINISHING)
MOE BETTER MAN:
We're live from the roof of the FAL Broadcasting Building, San Francisco.
(PAUSE - HE ISN'T SURE HE'S ON THE AIR)
I'm speaking from the roof of the FAL Broadcasting Building, San Francisco.
The siren that you're hearing is to warn the people to evacuate the city,
as the giant wild birds and their advanced war machines approach.
Traffic is hopelessly gridlocked, on the Bay Bridge
and the Golden Gate - so, nothing unusual there.
All communications systems are shut down. No more defenses.
Our armies, wiped out... artillery, air force, everything wiped out.
Nuclear defense systems gummed up with Homestyle Stuffing -
or "dressing," as my Nana would say.
FETA officials are safe in underground bunkers, however,
and are now working on a plan
to train domesticated animals to operate rocket launchers.
This may be the last broadcast. We'll stay here to the end...
People are holding service below us... in the cathedral...
(VOICES SINGING THANKSGIVING HYMN)
...Actually, it seems like most of the congregation are looters.
I see some kids trying to stuff one of the church pews in the back of a VW van.
(PRERECORDED: FROM A DISTANCE)
PUNK:
It's just a bench, man! Let it go!
(*39 EXT. HARBOR - LIVE)
MOE BETTER MANN:
Now I look down at the bay.
All manner of boats, overloaded with fleeing population, pulling out from the docks.
(SOUND OF BOAT WHISTLES)
Streets are all jammed.
Crowds here are almost as bad as New Year's Eve.
Wait a minute... Enemy now in sight. Five - five huge flying domes. First one is crossing the bay.
I'm getting a message on my "hand-held"...
(COMPUTER SOUNDS)
Bird-men craft are falling all over the country.
One in New York - apparently crushing a warehouse full of Macy's parade floats.
Boston, Akron, Austin, Detroit.
They say the one just outside L.A. is practically unnoticed by citizens...
Now the first dome reaches the Embarcadero.
It hovers, waiting for the others. They're lining up like... a giant buffet...
(SIGNAL BREAK IN)
(*40 INT. SIGNAL FROM INSIDE UFO)
TURKEY COMMANDER:
This is Commander Gobbler of the turkey-man army!
Brain creatures, Submit to the true masters of the third planet!
The tamest, fattest and most succulent of you will be spared... for now!
As for the rest of you... Prepare to die!
(41 EXT. ROOFTOP)
MOE BETTER MAN:
...Now they're lifting their metal tops.
This is the end now.
White fluff coming out of one,
yellow studded rolling pin-type cobs rolling out of another,
now the infamous rolls...
What appears to be giant sweet potatoes slide into the city,
barricades of Homestyle Stuffing - or "dressing," as my Nana would say -
block any escape. People in the streets see it now.
They're running in panic toward the bay... thousands of them,
dropping off Fishermen's Wharf like rats.
Wait - those are rats.
Now the gunk's spreading faster. It's hit Ghirardelli Square.
People trying to run away, but it's no use.
They're falling like raisins into oatmeal. Now the stuff's crossing Market Street...
...four blocks away...
just across the street...
Nana!
(BODY FALLING, SCREAMING)
(42 INT. LINE COMUNICATION - PRERECORDED)
MEDIA PHONE GUY:
This is Media Phone...
If you know the the name of the broadcast that's been interrupted,
enter the first four letters on your touch-tone phone - now...
(SOUND - TOUCH TONE)
You've chosen... FAL Studios, San Francisco...
If you're worried the building has been destroyed by mutant turkeys, press 1.
if you like to leave a message, press 2...
(SOUND - TOUCH TONE)
BUDDY LEE:
This is Buddy Lee... We've got dead air!
We haven't run a commercial or a station ID in ages! What the hell's going on?
(*43 INT. STUDIO - LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
You're listening to FAL's Screaming Planet Players in "The Last Thanksgiving".
We will continue after a short break.
This is FAL ...
(PRERECORDED -
YET ANOTHER THANKSGIVING SONG:
"YAMS OF FREEDOM")
In all our history there is no mystery
Why we celebrate this time of year
With football and family
And festive food so dear
Around the table as they are able
Millions bow their heads in appreciation
Of power and prosperity
In this superior nation
The dazzling food is a symbol
Of liberty so nimble
Precious yams
O yams of freedom
We lift your glistening platter high
Sumptuous yams
Foodstuff of real men
Carry us on to the sweet bye and bye
More than a side dish that's simply dee-lish
You remind us of stability
Of goodness and government
And pinko inability
Precious yams
O yams of freedom
We lift your glistening platter high
Sumptuous yams
Foodstuff of real men
Carry us on to the sweet bye and bye
*(LIVE)
ANNOUNCER #1:
We now return to "The Last Thanksgiving".
(*44 INT./EXT. TUFF SHED)
(TALKING INTO TAPE RECORDER)
SID MORTON:
My dear sister Siel,
I have been hiding out in this abandoned Tuff Shed,
surviving on doggie treats and lawn spikes.
The creatures have been rounding up the humans
and taking them inside the local Boston Market franchise...
I've seen them do horrible things, Seil.
Under the heat lamps, young girls stuffed with apples and rubbed with seasonings -
LIAM MARTIN:
Sid Morton? Astrologer to the stars? I've been looking all over for you...
(*45 EXT. RURAL SACRAMENTO)
SID:
Your aura is eclipsed by energies of Megalon, and transformed by Optimus Prime -
you must be that computer guy from the TV.
LIAM MARTIN:
Damn. You're good.
Liam Martin, Rhetorical Systems.
I've hacked into the controls of their space suits.
SID:
Your Mac is compatible with mutant turkey technology?
LIAM:
Uh, the guy down at Fry's hooked me up with some alien espionage software.
Anyway, I should be able to override their suit controls
and force their helmets to retract and lock open.
SID:
So?
LIAM:
What's the difference between... these turkeys, and ordinary turkeys?
SID:
Mmmm... Let's see. Well, they're seven feet tall.
They kill people. They feast on human flesh.
They fly around in domed ships. They have one big luminous eye.
LIAM:
Right, right. And?
SID:
They wear space suits?
LIAM:
Exactly. They wear space suits. Why? They're not from space... right?
SID:
Everything we know suggests they've slipped here from a parallel universe.
LIAM:
Exactly. Did you ever hear of H.G. Wells' "War Of The Worlds"?
SID:
Sounds familiar. Is that one of those daytime soap operas?
My sister Seil loves those...
"It's time for my stories", she'd say. How does she watch that crap?
LIAM:
No, It's a classic science fiction novel...
it was also a very famous movie and a Canadian TV series.
SID:
Another friggin' dork.
LIAM:
What?
SID:
Nothing. You were saying?
LIAM:
In the story, Martians were invading the earth...
SID:
That's kinda farfetched.
LIAM:
That's not the point.
Nothing worked against the deadly Martian weapons -
not guns, not tanks, not overacting. My point is, we can't beat their weapons.
We have to beat THEM. In the end, the invaders from Mars were defeated
by the bacteria and germs in our air to which their sterile bodies had no defense.
They died from the common cold.
SID:
Since birds are naturally creatures of the air...
you're suggesting that their space suits are protecting them from germs?
LIAM:
I don't know. I just don't know. But it's worth a shot.
I'm going to enter the override code. Any minute now, their heads
will be completely uncovered - and exposed to the pollutants and disease in our air.
SID:
Maybe hay fever they'll get.
(CHEEZY COMPUTER SOUNDS)
(*46 EXT. INVASION SITE - TURKEYS EVERYWHERE)
(SOUNDS OF HELMETS RETRACTING)
TURKEY GRUNT:
What's happening?
TURKEY GRUNT TWO:
Our protective helmets are locked open.
LIAM:
They seem confused... but unaffected by the loss of their helmets.
TURKEY COMMANDER:
Foolish brain creatures! Your futile attempt to destroy us was in vain.
We are completely able to survive in your atmosphere.
SID:
Turkeys killed by germs!? You stupid moron!
Turkeys are have got to be the filthiest and most disgusting animals on the planet.
Didn't you listen to the safety guy?
You probably contaminated US by opening their space suits!
(*47 INT. RADIO SIGNAL STUDIO)
STORMIN' NORMA:
...This is Stormin' Norma at the Mo' Better Weather Center.
Four-letter forecast for tonight, C... R... A... P - Crap!
Those atmospheric anomalies caused by the dimensional slips of the Turkey Man invasion
are agitating those soggy clouds, causing a huge storm-front over Sacramento
and most of the valley. Showers should last through the weekend.
This weather report is brought to you by Meow-Say-Tongue, gourmet cat food. . . .
(*48 EXT. INVASION SITE)
(STORM CLOUDS)
TURKEY GRUNT:
I feel... wetness.
TURKEY GRUNT:
It's... beautiful.
I must look up at it.
TURKEY COMMANDER:
Turn away, soldier! All of you - turn away! Eyes down!
SID MORTON:
They're all just standing there in the rain...
with their beaks open -
drowning!
(TURKEYS DROWNING, TURKEY BODIES FALLING)
LIAM:
They were destroyed... by their own curiosity.
SID:
You mean - stupidity.
(*49 INT. RADIO SIGNAL WHITE HOUSE)
PREZ:
Fellow Americans...
It seems the benevolent heavens have protected us again in times of war,
showing once again why our beliefs are still number one on the charts... with a bullet.
Therefore I invite you and your families to forever observe
the fourth Thursday of November, as a day of thanksgiving and praise
for our national perverseness and selfishness,
to congratulate all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers
in this very fashionable conflict that will without a doubt lock me in for re-election,
and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand
to pimp-slap some sense, peace and harmony into all those who are unlike us.
I proclaim this new holiday will be called...
"National Harvest Season Gratefulness Day".
(*50 EXT. INVASION SITE - RAIN)
SID MORTON:
The day's already a holiday, you idiot!
(TALKS INTO RECORDER)
My dear sister Seil...
I predict... I'll be coming home for the family dinner after all.
According to the president's webcast, turkeys are drowning all over the country
and the moving storm clouds will soon take care of the rest.
Everywhere, tribes of humans are crawling out of manholes,
refrigerator boxes and parked cars feeling the rain wash away their doubts
and moisten their hope at the dawn of this... last Thanksgiving day.
(MUSIC SWELLS UP AND OUT)
(*51 INT. TURKEY STUDIO)
TURKEY COMMANDER:
Fellow Turkey-men, This is Commander Gobbler - out of character to assure you
that "The Last Thanksgiving" has no further significance
than as the holiday offering it was intended to be.
The humans have not, nor will they ever defeat us.
This was your TURKEY COMMANDER's idea to make us all
a little more grateful for all the blessings we enjoy,
by imagining a topsy-turvy world in which they are all taken away
by the lowest and most unlikely of creatures!
You will be relieved, I hope, to learn that we meant no harm,
and that as we speak, humans are all in their proper social places -
fattened and enjoyed as food, or running gambling casinos on reservations.
Even though our brains are small for lack of intelligence, ambition and desire,
we remain superior - for our spirits are puffy and large
with harmony, love and intolerance.
So goodbye, citizens, and remember the lesson in gratitude given tonight.
That fat naked stranger in your oven is not a terrifying enemy,
but a mindless and most delicious meal for you and your loved ones -
and if there is a pitter-patter on your roof...
well, for God's sake don't look up.
Happy Thanksgiving.
(FOWL THEATRE THEME UP FULL, THEN DOWN)
ANNOUNCER #1:
Fowl.net has brought you the Steaming Platter Players
in "The Last Thanksgiving." This is Fowl.
(THEME UP TO FINISH)
(DONE.)
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