chuck norris gets a case of the aids that not even a beard fisted karate chop can cure, the end.

Just a typical day in the futuristic city of Megalopolis. A bunch of students are boarding a hoverplatform--including Our Hero! He looks around and notices another platform nearby with the most beautiful girl in school. He quickly uses his wrist computer to hack a nearby billboard, making it display a shot from her modeling portfolio.

But before he can see her reaction, there's a booming sound! Several spider robots appear and start tearing shit up. The Hero looks around and realizes he's the only one on his platform, everyone else has fled! A robot lands right next to his platform, and a woman in uniform starts shooting it. In the confusion the platform launches, falling down past the skyscrapers with the Hero and the woman on it.

Fortunately, the Hero is able to hack the platform and get control of it. The uniformed woman takes off her mirrorshades and smiles at him. They fly the platform back up.

Up above is crazy battle shit with spider robots and heavily armed police units. With the Hero piloting, his companion is able to take down most of the robots, until the city is safe again.

When it's all over, the Hero finds the beautiful model girl again--hanging all over a square-jawed police officer and posing for the cameras. He turns away dejectedly.

But then the policewoman is standing there. She offers him her hand; he smiles and takes it.

They jump off the building together.

The Golden Nutcrust

And then, across the Great Drop, Old Jeremiah did see it. The Manna of His people. Nestled in the crease between the Sacred Scrotum and the Inner Groin. It sat in its crumbly glory as would a Holy Grail, radiating with glowing aliveness, upholding the potential for infinite growth. Old Jeremiah then did grab upon the tunic of his son, Isaac. To his son, Jeremiah did point it out and exclaimed,

"My Son, Harken unto me now! We have found it! The Golden Nutcrust."

"What, where?" Isaac replied lamely. Jeremiah's son was as of yet too young to have experienced the Golden Nutcrust in past pilgrimages.

"There boy-o, see it now! Within the cranny, below the Valley of Pubes!"

"Ah, I see it."

"Come Isaac, we must reach our goal, lest the hour grow late."

With Isaac at his side, Jeremiah cut across the Upper Thigh to the edge of the Inner Groin, where the lengths of Ballhair and Pubes grew more sparsely but were longer and could bear the larger burden.

"We must swing Isaac!" shouted Jeremiah, bending down and grabbing two Ballhairs. Jeremiah passed one onto to his son. Without hesitation, the two men leapt from their purchase, and using the strength of the Ballhairs, swung over the great void below. As the wind rushed past them, they heard a roar of rage from Larry of the Sky. Larry of the Sky did not take a liking to those who would use his Ballhair for rope and his Ballsack for ballast. Thus, Larry of the Sky sent his most devastating weapon, the Big Hand to defend the sanctity of the Ballsack.

The first swipe of the Big Hand took Old Jeremiah's life. Despite the terror and sorrow in his heart, Isaac remembered his father's instructions and held on until the Golden Nutcrust was in front of him. Isaac saw his chance and released the Sackhair and let his momentum carry him into the very heart of the warm and gooey Golden Nutcrust.

Was Isaac, son of Jeremiah, so entranced by the Golden Nutcrust, so overcome by the temptation to revel in his victory, that he did not notice as the Big Hand rushed to him from behind and dig into Issac's position. Poor Isaac never stood a chance against the beast.

Thus, the Big Hand not only scooped up the broken body of Isaac, but also the whole of the Golden Nutcrust. The Big Hand rushed up to the heavens to meet with the face of Larry of the Sky, who was sitting on a chair.

Larry of the Sky looked upon the Golden Nutcrust with great interest. He lightly sniffed at the substance on his hand. Immensely intrigued, Larry of the Sky looked around to see if anyone was watching. No one was so he decidedly stuck his entire fist in his mouth sucked greedily upon the Golden Nutcrust.

Upon seeing TomFulp's new post I have revised my story to make it less creatively restrictive.

The Golden Nutcrust

"Jeremiah and his son, Issac are two tiny people on a man's upper thigh who have been searching and finally found their people's Holy Grail, The Golden Nutcrust. They try to swing over to the Nutcrust using the man's ballhair, but are killed by his hand. The man then scoops up his nutcrust with his hand and then sucks on his hand."

Ok, here's a story I am making up as I write to help boost the contest, here on the deadline.

A new user (noob2011) submits his first successful animation (probably video game related) to the portal and gets great results, and then in the future, he becomes more powerful than Egoraptor and all the spammers, and anytime he submits things after that, people see his name and vote 5 regardless of how not funny they continue being. Egoraptor makes a point of it, sort of like he's making fun of himself, only through this fake user, so it's kind of ironic I guess. Then Egoraptor and all of Hollywood point and laugh at him for thinking he was famous. The end.

Hard to believe the above paragraph is only 3 sentences, heh? There, I hope someone wants to animate that, since I have way too many things going on at this second. Thanks again, Tom! Say hi to April and that shirt I made that I gave you to give to her.

Lizzie isn't feeling herself lately. It's like something, or someone is trying to get out. If her friends weren't all dead, they probably could've helped her.

Thursday Night

Going with the few sentences idea Tom suggested:

5 friends sit around a table(close in shot of just the 5), fully costumed, fully in character playing Dungeons and Dragons. Each person is doing something different: Game Master is seriously into it, the "cool guy" playing with his Iphone ignoring the DM, the really nerdy guy paying attention, and the other 2 trying to role play between themselves. By the end of it, the camera zooms out to find the group in the middle of a public restaurant (Fancy or really casual), with those around giving them awkward looks as the group continues.

Hope this sparks some imagination from the teams.
-Masterofvids

(below--i think this would be funny done in Dot Dot Dot style, there are only a few sentences of imagery, and it takes about one minute to read through, the writing is used as narration to the one minute film)

dear fulp,
so how about the day before submissions are due you can write a message to all the writers confusing the shit out of them for all the stories they wrote. it is true that most of the stories, mine included or not, are shit. but sorta thought the point was that quality did not matter. what it is that does matter? nothing does matter is what it is that matters. in fact, do six hundred words show that much more of a pictor than a couple of sentances. in a way yes i guess so but no because i could say purple monkey dishwasher which seems pretty pacific but ask your friend to draw a purple monkey dishwasher and then ask your neighbor to draw a purple monkey dishwasher and see how different the two drawings look. but if the limit is the sky what does it matter how shat and long the stories are what is funny is how they will be animated and turned to turned into a one minute video. i wouldnt worry about it if you got the animators ready to go, just do it, because if you're gonna change the deadline dont, just do let it go as scheduled. cause it seems like you asking peoples to rewrite or redue and it was starting to get a little confusing( the story post) but not enough people are gonna look before the deadline is up, which will probably lead to further confusingness. who cares. movies are gooooood.. cartoons are fun. let us go to space and visit the space station. i have read through most of the stories and most of them are distressing due to quality not length. and i would red them again but i am tired now. I WOULD LIKE A COOIKE. but besides that don't worry, just make movies for my puppy corn.
thank you,
much

Here's my story in a short summary. Feel free to take it in any direction that you want.

A man really needs a job so he takes a job as a babysitter. The thing is he clearly isn't qualified and has no clue how to take care of this child. He makes many mistakes and a series of unexpected and dangerous events occur.

At 1/16/11 09:19 PM, Johnkirk wrote: What's The Worst That Can Happen?

A boy in school sits thinking:

"Oh man, she's so pretty. Just my style too. I've heard she doesn't have a date for the dance. Why don't I just go up and ask her? But, what if I slip and fall on the way? What if I stutter and she takes me for an idiot? What if the bell rings and I am trampled by the passing mob? What if a rouge pack of pit bulls burst through the door and maul me at the most inopportune time? What if North Korea decides to hit the nuke button? Oh god, forbid, the worst thing of all, she says "no" Oh the humanity!"

"Wait a second" the boys thinks to himself, realizing the only obstacle in his way is an empty hallway. "I think I'll take my chances."

"Hey Emily, do you want to go to the dance on Friday?"
"Certainly!"
"Wow, thank you so much, I was so worried abou-gwaaahahaha" An escaped pit bull cut his sentence just short.

I really don't think this needs a 1-3 sentence summary, but I will oblige.

A boy gets nervous about talking to a girl and runs through a number of worst case scenarios in his head. He gets inspired and talks to the girl with a positive result. However, one of the more ridiculous scenarios takes place.

Aha, a shorter one..

The Doom of Newgrounds

The president is convinced by a "Youtube" guy that Newgrounds is the source of all evil and decides to blam the entire website. Fortunately, he is stopped by a lot of famous Newgrounds characters with Tom/Pico in the lead.

new one in 3 sentences you say?

it was the first day of school, and i skipped to my first class.
i heard something familiar behind me and it was professor snape.
he said avada kadavra and i died. it was the worst first day of school ever.
also, he took 10 points from gryffendor.

oh shit that was 4 sentences.

Alright, Revision time! Here we go!

The aroma of Hindenburg explosions and semen filled the air.
There I was, resting beneath the shade of a tree, which oddly enough, was on fire at the time.
Of course, it didn't take too long for the flames to catch up to me, for no matter where I ran, the fire drew me back in, like I was some kind of moth or something, which is Ironic, now that I think about it, because my mother WAS a moth, making me half-moth.
So now, if you'll excuse me, this house isn't mine. I broke into it. And now the police are on their way. Good day.

Hopefully it does much better.

Life Cycle Of a Rock.
I guess you could say throwing stones into the sea is fun. The way they look when they skid. The way they look when they sink into the salty waters of the sea. But do you ever wonder where the stone Goes? Lets go with this-A little boy throws a slick stone into the sea. It hesitates when it's done skiming, and starts to sink. It sinks quiet fast. You would think it would hit the bottom. It gets carried along with the current, and gets washed all the way out to sea. It begins to sink, and fish catch a glimpse of it. "Hey look honey, it a new species," A fish glubs. It floats farther down into the ocean. It is caught by a sting ray. "Some people don't have manners," It whispers, as it swims away. It sinks farther...farther...until it reaches the rocky bottom with its other friends. The rock scratches a shark. The shark eats the rock. It floats down to the bottom of the sharks stomach. Thats what you call a chain reaction just by throwing a rock.

At 1/26/11 07:08 AM, bloodqueef wrote: Three black chicks are having a sleepover. They are all baking cookies and painting their nails and shit when all of a sudden, one of the black girls turns out to be a fucking komodo dragon.
OR

This fucking Beaver is banned from his usual Alcoholics Anonymous meeting for taking advantage of young, mentally unstable women who show up. So he starts a club in his backyard for people who are into punk-rock music. This fucking hot ass guy walks in and the beaver then realizes he's gay.

i vote for these. are we voting? i don't know what we're doing, but these two win. extra text to kill popup messages.

a man has lobsters for hands. he discovers porn, but can't masturbate to it because he has lobsters for hands. he spends his days riding around on the top of a giant's head, because the giant thinks the man is a fashionable hat.

Teacher is writing something on the board, a spitball hits the board, laughs are heard. Teacher turns back around and a rotten tomato hits the board -> class gets a week ISS or etention. Camera pans further and we see the parents who were sitting in on the class high five each other.

More free time for parents YAY!

You are welcome NG.

the incredible hulk battles zombie pope john paul II.

pico is there too.

Aaaaaaand go.

Eli's Plan to Take Over the World

Summary:
This is an E rated script that is probably just over a minute, but my objective was to keep the animators and artists' job simple so it should fly in that regard. There are two backgrounds, little motion, and it has practically nothing to do with world domination. It's more or less is few puns and randomness thrown together off of some figures of speech with anthropomorphic animal characters talking. I'd be more than happy to do a couple voices and compose music for the credits on a short team if that's allowed, but I am no artist nor am I an animator.

[The cast: Eli is a monkey with a weak East Indian accent. Roy is a donkey with a slight Southern accent. He speaks slower. Jethro is an elephant with a Minnesotan accent and a higher pitched voice. Walter is a hare with eyes that aren't quite right and a low pitched stupid voice. All are males.
The set: Eli and Roy are sitting at the kitchen table. I find it easier to use compass points since they are absolute. The counter top is on the north side of the room. It has a sink, a coffee maker, and a box of cereal, I don't care what else. The door is on the west wall towards the north side and opens into the kitchen hinged on the north side. There is a window on the east wall and it's snowing outside. View 1 is from the southeast looking northwest. It shows Eli sitting at the west side of the table with his hand on his cup of coffee and the door just to his right and part of the counter top right of the door. View 2 is from the southwest looking northeast. It shows Roy with his cereal bowl and spoon, and newspaper. Behind him is the counter top and the window. It's View 2 during Roy's script, and View l during everyone else's.]

Eli-So I have this sweet plan to take over the world.
Roy-[crunching cereal]
Eli-So...do you want to hear it?
Roy-Hmph [a mumble expressing disinterest while crunching cereal]
Eli-Fine then, I won't tell you.
Roy-[with mouth full of cereal] Why the hell would I care?
Eli-Well, I'm your roommate
Roy-[stares blankly and blinks once]
Eli-Well it seemed like a safe assumption to make-you-you know, seeing as we're eating breakfast together and all. Why else would I be sitting in a kitchen, me-me with the coffee, you the cereal. Why would the the writer set it up like that if not to imply that we're roomies?
Roy-[stops crunching and swallows] When you assume you make an ass out of you and me.
Eli-But Roy, you ARE an ass.
Roy-[mouth full of cereal again] That's beside the point.
Eli-Well I'm telling you my plan anyway.
Roy-[unfolding the paper, now with reading glasses on] Go ahead, I'm not listening.
Eli-Well you should! Maybe-maybe you'll be able to avoid your DOOOM?
Roy-[looks over the paper and shrugs]
Eli-It's the greatest scheme ever! You wouldn't believe how deliciously gloomily, how succulently belligerent it is.
Roy-[looking over the paper again] Hmph, stop using thesauruses. Belligerent is a very weak word for evil, ya know? But it sure seems to apply to you purty well.
Eli-[becoming noticeably irritated] You-you shut up and listen! To mock ME? I may be the greatest mad scientist of all time! My plan is to-
Roy-[starts speaking as Eli begins to say the word plan while setting the paper down] Yer a brassy fella aren't ya?
Eli-I will be heard!
[Jethro bursts the kitchen door open. Eli looks about ready to explode when this interruption occurs.]
Roy-[looking enthusiastic for the first time] Hey, Jethro!
Jethro-[still in the doorway behind Eli] Lordy, Lordy! It's cold enough out there to freeze the balls off as brass monkey!
Eli-Errrrr [not a loud noise, but a low grumble of someone about to explode. It continues until he shatters his mug]
Jethro-Jeez, Roy, what's gotten into Eli?
Roy-Oh I don't know-some new harebrained plan to take over the world.
Walter-[now on Jethro's shoulder] Hey, duh, I told you guys not to leave the toilet seat up.
[Eli shatters mug and it cuts to the credits]
[After the credits (if time to put it in)]
Chuck the Skunk in Eli's seat-[Opening a can of beer] Damnit, it's 11:30 already?
Eli-[from another room and still noticeably irritated still] Maybe if you weren't drunk all the time, Chuck!

I'm blaming typos on the cat in my lap that thinks he can type. He's such a pussy. It has nothing to do with the fact that I've been drinking.

Also, I just read something about the scripts being too restrictive. Hell, I don't care how much the script is changed. That's part of any collaborative effort with other artists. This is just how it plays out inside my head. Luck to the rest of the writers.

Endings.

This is our world, torn by strife, reduced to rubble by Angels and Demons, an ultimate battle of good versus evil. But... can these forces be defined as simply as "good" or "evil"? As the blood of thousands has told, no, and some few brave souls have taken a stand against both the "Angels" and the "Demons.

I hope that someone likes this summary, even if it's almost impossible to cram a great deal of story in only 3 sentences!

I hope this shows up before the deadline hits.

This is a premise based on starcraft 2.

The entire animation would revolve around a faceless player(which could stand for the everyman of the starcraft world) getting instantly beaten by korean players and "cheese" strategies he cannot defend against.

His "final and ultimate" strategy to"beat" starcraft 2 is to provoke North Korea into nuking South Korea, letting him finally have a chance at winning a normal game of Starcraft 2.

Well I already posted my story but hopefully you'll accept my summary of what I posted on page 1 of the comments:

Basically the ship's computer from Metroid Other M develops a romantic obsession with Adam Malkovich, and the moment Samus arrives to take his helmet at the end of the game the computer goes ape-s**t and detonates the place. This also explains why the ship self-destructed when it did at the end of the game :)

I have no concept of time, both in pacing and in deadlines.

This is a fact of life and we all will have to deal with it in one way or another.

i guess. Maybe not.

Knowing What Thou Knowest

My mind drew into a flurry as rough cloth glided over stainless steel. The house was plastered in its contamination; it was simply not the way of a bachelor such as myself to attend to such things when the career-life consumed so much of my limited time. It was the first instance in which I was to be graced with the luxury of true company in months. It was an old University friend, a man by the name of Rohbart Bulnderson. True company, someone to converse with of times gone by at a level of competency on par with my own, and I needed these damn dishes clean.
I was seized with a cold sweat, it was not in my nature to worry about a matter as trivial as spotless china, yet the thought clung and did not cease its hold upon me. My hands began to rack as if in convulsion; why was I having so much trouble cleaning these god damn dishes!? I looked down to see I had begun washing the utensils I had already finished with nearly fifteen minutes prior. Had I been so distracted by my fabricated demons? I put the knife now laying in the cloth back into its designated drawer and continued on, every so often looking back to make sure I had placed it correctly. That it was straight, even. Then I cleaned it again, to make sure.
I heard a sharp tone from across the house; my guest had arrived. I quickly dumped the few soiled plates that remained into the sink and made a hasty flight towards the door whilst clumsily throwing on an expensive leather jacket.
Rohbart was a man whose substantial size matched a stature for which he was renowned. He was renowed, cherished even for the work his international archaeological exploits. Bold whiskers betrayed a sense of grit that finely combed ends were soon to rectify as posh, pointed nose led downwards into an inviting grimace. Rohbart was an exemplary image of a gentleman and lifetime scholar; if he hadn't so frequently dressed in the disheveled rags of a street urchin one would have a task of distinguishing him from the world's most elite. I had always assumed that he saw no value in public appearance. Perhaps it was simply ignorance, but men like Rohbart Buldnerson were never ignorant. Men like Rohbart couldn't afford to be anything less than the model.
"Ah! Gregory Drendle! My god, surely it's been more than a year since last we met under such private circumstance," he bellowed out in an ursine voice.
"Yes, of course. It's good to see you too Rohbart," I announced somewhat timidly, dwarfed as I was encroaching beneath his presence. "Come inside, I'm sure you have many tales to relate from your travels."
His eyes lit up like a child spying an fifty dollar bill upon the floor, "Ha! That and more my dear Drendle! Quickly, let us make haste to your parlor; time is barely of the essence, yet the opportune moment draws quickly form our grasp! This late hour is perfectual by my figuring; you shall be left agape by the treasure I hold at this very moment. Yes, it must be now I show you. Showmanship is as much a part of any trick as the materials themselves, no? And this light, the atmosphere! God! What a night!"
I casually drifted a hand in the direction of the living room. "Yes, of course Rohbart."
Rohbart was not what one would call a soft-spoken man; in fact there were few features of the man one could call soft. Stern was a better word, perhaps even endearing, even if he did trip over his Thesaurus one too many times. While his words were boastful it was a rare occasion that he did not deliver upon them. Even now I spied a hempen satchel tied in haste, hanging limply off his tattered overcoat. I caught a glimpse of something through a small partition in the top, something remarkable, and instantly I coveted it beyond anything.
"Drendle, I need a moment to prepare," Rohbart stated plainly as he placed his fortune upon the table that served as a centerpiece for the humble room the two had arrive in. "Fetch us some drinks from your pantry, something hard. I gather that we shall both have a long night ahead of us."
I made my way back into the kitchen, making careful glances towards the prize Rohbart began to unwrap with an inordinate amount of delicacy. I quickly grabbed two tall glasses and a bottle of the vintage vodka I had been saving; it certainly wasn't extraordinary, but it would have to do for tonight. As I reached into the drawer to retrieve a corkscrew I spied a familiar face staring back into my own. It was my reflection; it was the knife. I was once more gripped by wrenching chill that consumed my entire being, growing stronger with each passing second. Time seemed to slow down as a dull, persistent pain began to boil and swell within the darkest chambers of my mind. Thoughts brewing, overwrought with vile cravings I dare not admit. I snatched the knife from the drawer and placed it in my pocket, tracing my finger along the back edge of the blade. The heft, the weight of it; it brought me comfort. It was close; it was out of sight. I was safe.
I made my way pack to the room in which Rohbart resided, poison in hand. "The booze, yes! Here, let us free our spirits before our minds. To kinship eh?" I poured out two glasses of the alcohol as glasses clinked and a brief fit of laughter among acquaintances erupted.
The merriment ended quite abruptly as the room grew stiff under Rohbart's command. He set his glass down on the table and then turned towards me. Rohbart looked me dourly in the face with pale blue eyes, eyes that demanded respect. "Now listen to me Drendle, I know I may have had a bit of good humor about this piece I'm about to unveil to you, but let me assure you that this is a most serious matter." He guided my vision to a spherical object upon the table covered with a fine, inky cloth. He brought me back into his gaze, "I mean it Drendle. This particular treasure was found among a tomb of ancient artifacts said to be virtually priceless by almost every one of my scholarly peers. It's said to hold an immense power, power beyond the capabilities of a mortal mind. Even I have yet to look upon it since I found it in that tomb; even I am afraid. I must confess, I came here because I felt the need to show someone my discovery and I trusted you to know few people who could try to do my reputation harm. I am trusting you with this Drendle."
I simply nodded; I had no nothing to add. My thoughts were only on what lay beneath the cloth.
"So without further ado!" Rohbart clipped the cloth off of the sphere with a single sweeping motion. It nearly broke the room with its pure radiance. There it lay, a shining mass of solid gold, encrusted with gems of texture and coloration I had could barely conceive. "From what I am told," Rohbart whispered to me with a tone of satisfaction, "this piece is known as the Egg of Osiris, the Egyptian god of the afterlife."
I was simply stunned, speechless. The nerve of the thing, to be so beautiful, so unobtainable, yet just within reach. Why did it choose him?
"The story I was told said that the Egg holds the ultimate knowledge of life and death. Anyone who is to bare witness to the contents within will be taken to a higher plane of consciousness, bathed in the sterling ecstasy of infinite perception, a limitless understanding of the universe. They will be more than human, and at the same time less. Quite astonishing, no?"

I nodded, trapped by the egg. It was I felt it. The sting of the knife in my pocket that pierced my mind with a undeniable rage. The heft of it began to drag me into the floor, the carpet around my feet sucking me in. Then the burning, god the burning. It wanted nothing more than to escape, to taste flesh, to fulfill my desires. I reached in to withdraw the knife, to cast it away, when it felt as if my hand were consumed by the flames of Hell itself. An inferno engulfed every nerve in my appenadage as I reached for the blade; I slipped, and the metal dug deep into my skin. "Now, it had to be now!" my body screamed as I finally placed bleeding fingers around the handle of my salvation.
"Well, open it." Rohbart ordered. "I'm the one taking advantage of your time and booze, it seems only fair that you be the one to peek inside first."
I grew limp. Me? It chose me? Rohbart had turned away now, was that it? Had it chosen me? Finally, it had been me that was granted such a privilege? There he was, vulnerable, but there was the egg. Mine.
I latched onto it, twisting at the ancient halves with all my might. It was mine, it would all be mine soon enough. It began to budge as the light of the room reflected off the rising upper crust of the egg. I was blinded, but my drive was undeterred. I felt a slight jolt and the egg gave way. It was open. Here it was, now was my time. My sight returning, I took in the bounty before me...
"Rohbart."
He spoke with his back still towards me, "Yes Drendle?"
"This egg is full of chocolate."
"Oh.... Well fuck."
I took one of the confectionaries from the glimmering shell and swallowed it whole. It was super delicious.

There are a couple of pairs of mismatched people who walk separately along a road. Each group stops at a sign and discuss what it could mean. The sign says, "This sign is self explanatory."

This is me following Tom's suggestion of 2 or 3 sentences for a story. I think it sounded funnier before when I was just throwing ideas back and forth with my friend. But I keep forgetting some of my ideas and keep trying to get something posted. Though If I may suggest, A ninja should have a conversation with a Koala bear.

It's about this kid who's sitting at home alone at night in his parent's house.. he submits a shitty flash animation and as soon as he hits "submit" the place begins to shake. The windows get hit and broken by plungers and lollypops as the house begins to get attacked by NG level weapons. The attack grows progressively worse and finally, at the end, is crushed by a level 60 giant hand smashing the continent he lives on in a major blam-slam! >:@

Paying the Piper
By
Kimlinh "Hnilmik" Tran

[[hello, super old, stupid-wordy screenplay...]]

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - STREET - AFTERNOON

It is autumn in this vacant suburban neighborhood and not a
sound could be heard, save for the occasional passing bird.

CARLOS VIDAN, late 20's, a tall black man with a large bulky
build stands idly on the sidewalk with his rounded face
fixed in a neutral expression, framed by the short curly
hair on his head across his cheeks and to his chin.

He doesn't stand out in his purple and yellow striped shirt,
save for his dirty jeans and sneaker. He adjusts his glasses
and the dogtags on his right wrist flashes the light of the descending sun.
In his left hand is a large briefcase.

Carlos's sights are fixed on Jacob's two-story house and he
opens the gate to let himself into Jacob's lawn to walk
briskly to the front door.

CARLOS
(sings "Suicide is Painless")
Through early morning fog I see,
visions of the things to be...

INT. JACOB'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - AFTERNOON

JACOB SWINT, 20's, a lanky-built Asian with black hair, save
for the the front fringes and bangs dyed blond, sorts
through DVD's in a black hoodie on top of his unmade bed. In
his pierced ears are headphones playing music. On the upper
lip of his gaunt face is some light facial hair.

His almond-shaped eyes scan through the DVD titles until he
notices one in particular.

JACOB
Hello, what do we have here?

Jacob holds up the DVD case and examines it closely. He gets up
and sits on the revolving chair beside his desk.
He rummages through a drawer for a magnifying glass, a pen,
and a piece of paper.

He opens the case and examines the disk with the magnifying
glass before scribbling a note on the paper.

JACOB (CONT'D)
You thought you could fool me, huh?

He scribbles a note on the paper.

JACOB (CONT'D)
That's what you get for buying
cheap movies from some guy off the
street: Crappily pressed disks. I
should've known better when I saw
the cardboard box--He probably
lives in it.

The doorbell rings, but Jacob ignores it and checks the
other DVD's.

JACOB (CONT'D)
If the region code is for China,
I'll be pissed...

It keeps ringing until he reluctantly stops writing and
pushes himself away from the desk. He gets up before the
chair crashes against the back wall, where movie posters are
hung off-kilter.

He puts on his dark blue baseball cap, pulls up his loosely
fitting jeans, and leaves the room.

INT. JACOB'S HOUSE - FOYER - AFTERNOON

Jacob walks past an open doorway leading to a terrace and
heads down the stairs as the doorbell keeps ringing. He
unlocks a series of locks, then opens the door. Jacob
stares at the larger Carlos with a sour expression.

JACOB
What do you want?

CARLOS
I heard you got some DVD's from a
friend of mine.

JACOB
What's it to you?

Carlos undos one of the latches on his briefcase and a bunch
of DVD's tumble out. Jacob's features light up.

JACOB (CONT'D)
Niiiice! I'll get the DVD's to trade for--

The compartment behind the DVD's also falls out, revealing a
cattle prod. Jacob's face contorts into terror as Carlos
takes the cattle prod and drops the briefcase.

Jacob runs up the stairs and Carlos gives chase. Carlos
quickly keeps up and at the top of the stairs, he jabs the
cattle prod at Jacob, but misses and stabs it into a wall.

Cut off from his room, Jacob runs out onto the terrace.

EXT. JACOB'S HOUSE - TERRACE - AFTERNOON

Jacob scrambles to get away from Carlos and notices he has
nowhere else to run as a railing saves him from nearly
falling over the edge.

Jacob turns around to see Carlos getting rid of the cattle
prod and heading straight for him. The Asian knocks down a
nearby side table and picks up a chair to defend himself.

JACOB
Screw off! I didn't know your friend was
selling me crappy DVD's!

Carlos rushes in and catches the chair just as Jacob swings
it. Jacob pushes him away and makes a break for the door.
Carlos swings the table and knocks Jacob into a wall.

Jacob is stunned, but recollects himself in time to see
Carlos raise the chair to hit him again. Jacob pushes
himself off the wall to throw himself into Carlos.

Carlos stumbles back and breaks the railing behind him. He
grabs Jacob and the two fall over the edge.

3 Sentence Condensed Version of the long ass thing i copy/pasted from Word and then didn't format to the forum:

This bro has another bro over and it's like "Hey bro check this wicked shit out it's like I found an Egypt or something."
Other bro is like "Man I'm crazy as fuck I'm gonna kill you or something."
And then non-sequiter. Rim-shot.

This should be short enough. I think it's fairly obvious what it was based on.

The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.
Soon, the man in black realized that wearing black in a desert isn't a good idea, and he had to slow down, panting. The gunslinger caught up with him before to long, shot him in the kneecaps and left him there without water. All the while, they said nothing.
Now he lies there, already delirious. He dies.

A couple guys beat off in the same room... but it's not gay.. they're not looking at each other or anything.