#gnagare

Squirrel at the birdfeeder...

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The reflections on the vehicle aren’t finished yet, but to be able to paint some of them I needed to do a bit more on the rat first. It turns out to be a happy little rodent!

                        Victor            Is that right?  Well, I guess            you're about ready, eh? Burgerpants hesitates.                        gnagare            We're your friends.  We're not like            the others.                        Victor                   (hissing sharply)            No more of that talk or I'll put            the leeches on you. Victor turns back to Burgerpants - smiles reassuringly. EXT. EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO something city - DAY Burgerpants sits nervously in the back seat as the RED SHARK screams down the road. gnagare sings along to the tape player. Burgerpants's eyes go to the door - considers jumping out and taking his chances. Victor, sweating bullets, STARES AT Burgerpants in the rear view mirror.                         Victor (V/O)            How long could we maintain, I            wondered.  How long before one of            us starts raving and jabbering at            this boy?  What will he think then?            This same lonely mountain was the            last known home of the Monsters. The Burgerpants's eyes notice a thin line of blood trickling down gnagare's neck.                         Victor (V/O)            Would he make that grim connection            when my attorney starts screaming            about bats and huge manta rays            coming down on the car? Victor's mouth moves intermittently - sometimes in sync with the words, sometimes not.                         Victor (V/O)            If so - well, we'll just have to            cut his head off and bury him            somewhere.  Because it goes without            saying that we can't turn him loose.            He'd report us at once to some kind            of outback Nazi law enforcement            agency, and they'll run us down            like dogs...                         Victor                   (out loud to himself)            Jesus!  Did I say that?                         Victor (V/O)            Or just think it?  Was I talking?            Did they hear me?                         gnagare                   (reassuringly to Burgerpants)            It's okay.  He's admiring the shape            of your skull. Victor gives Burgerpants a FINE BIG GRIN and Burgerpants giggles nervously.                        Victor (V/O)            Maybe I better have a chat with            this boy I thought.  Perhaps if I            explain things, he'll rest easy...                         Victor                   (roaring over the                   road noise)            THERE'S ONE THING YOU SHOULD            PROBABLY UNDERSTAND -- Burgerpants stares at him, not blinking.                         Victor                   (yells)            CAN YOU HEAR ME? Burgerpants nods -- giggles -- terrified.  Victor climbs into the back seat.                        Victor            That's good.  Because I want you to            have all the background.  This is a            very ominous assignment -- with            overtones of extreme personal            danger.  I'm a Doctor of Journalism!            This is important, goddamnit!  This            is a true story!...                   (WHACKS the BACK OF                   THE DRIVER'S SEAT                   with his fist) The CAR SWERVES SICKENINGLY, then straightens out.                        gnagare                   (screams)            Keep your hands off my fucking neck! Burgerpants makes a sudden lunge for freedom. Victor GRABS HIM BACK DOWN.                         Victor (V/O)            Our vibrations were getting nasty --            but why?  Was there no communication            in this car?  Had we deteriorated            to the level of dumb beasts? Burgerpants STRUGGLES IN PANIC.                            Victor                   (to Burgerpants)            I want you to understand that this            man at the wheel is my attorney!            He's not just some dingbat I found            on the Strip.  He's a foreigner.  I            think he's probably Samoan.  But it            doesn't matter, does it?  Are you            prejudiced?                        Burgerpants            Hell, no!                        Victor            I didn't think so.  Because in            spite of his race, this man is            extremely valuable to me.  Hell, I            forgot all about this beer.  You            want one?                   (Burgerpants shakes                   his head)            How about some ether?                        Burgerpants            What?                       Victor            Never mind.  Let's get right to the            heart of this thing.  Twenty-four            hours ago we were sitting in the            Pogo Lounge of the something area            Hotel... INT. THE something lounge  - DAY A uniformed DWARF, carries a shockingly PINK TELEPHONE through the glittering, tranquil Something LOUNGE CROWD.  They are the ELOI.  HENDRIX AFROS and DROOPING MUSTACHES and BELL BOTTOMS and LOVE BEADS and BELLS.  ACTRESSES sip Singapore Slings and PROMOTERS sip ACTRESSES in this MONIED, SANITISED VERSION OF THE GREAT REVOLUTION YEARS.                         Victor (V/O)            ... in the patio section, of            course, drinking Singapore Slings            with mescal on the side, hiding            from the brutish realities of this            foul year of Our Lord, 1971. The DWARF reaches Victor -- T-shirt, levis, sneakers and shades. gnagare -- white rayon bellbottoms and a khaki tank top undershirt.  They are in the middle of a serious conversation.                        Victor            I'm telling you, the Salazar story            is getting too complicated.  The            weasels have started closing in. The DWARF sneers.                         DWARF            Perhaps this is the call you've            been waiting for all this time,            sir... DUKE lifts the receiver -- listens...                         Victor            Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Victor hangs up the PHONE with the DEAD-PAN EXPRESSION OF A MOVIE SPY.                         DWARF            That was headquarters.  They want            me to go to Something city at once and            make contact with a naga            bush viper Snake monster named Anze.  She'll            have the details.  All I have to do            is check into my sound proof suite            and she'll seek me out. gnagare, says nothing for a moment, then POUNDS the table!                        gnagare            God hell!  I think I see the            pattern!  This one sounds like real            trouble!  You're going to need            plenty of legal advice before this            thing is over.  As your attorney I            must advise you that you'll need a            very fast car with no top and after            that, the cocaine.  And then the            tape recorder, for special music,            and some Acapulco shirts...                   (gnagare tucks his                   khaki undershirt into                   his white                   bellbottoms -- he                   means business!)            This blows my weekend, because            naturally I'll have to go with            you -- and we'll have to arm            ourselves.                         Victor            Why not?  If a thing's worth doing,            it's worth doing right. Victor and gnagare are up and off.  The DWARF chases after them with the (very large) check in his hand. They sweep out through the Lounge door, unaware of it swinging back into the face of the pursuing DWARF.                         Victor            I tell you, my man.  This is the            American Dream in action!  We'd be            fools not to ride this strange            torpedo all the way to the end.                         gnagare            Indeed.  We must do it.  What kind            of story is this? EXT. something HOTEL - FRONT ENTRANCE - DAY Victor and Gnagare emerge.                         Victor            The Mint 400!  The richest off-road            race for motorcycles and dune-            buggies in the history of organized            sport!                   (handing parking                   ticket to Valet)            -- a fantastic spectacle in honor            of some fatback grossero who owns            the luxurious something Hotel in the            heart of downtown something city... at least            that's what the press release says. Their car arrives -- rusted out, smashed door panels.  They jump in.                        Victor            We're going to have to drum it up            on our own.  Pure Gonzo Journalism. And they're off in a cloud of black exhaust as the nose- bleeding DWARF stumbles out with the unpaid bill in his hand. EXT. SUNSET BLVD - DAY The PINTO races through shot.                         Victor (V/O)            Getting hold of the drugs and            shirts had been no problem... EXT. Something BAR - DAY The PINTO skids to a halt outside Something bar, the back window full of Hawaiian shirts.                         Victor (V/O CONT'D)            ... but the car and tape recorder            were not easy things to round up at            6:30 on a Friday afternoon in            Somewhere. INT. Something BAR - DAY TORN YELLOW PAGES with dealer's ads ticked off lie in a pile as gnagare yells into a PAYPHONE.  Victor carries over four Singapore Slings.                         gnagare            O.K., O.K., yes.  Hang onto it.            We'll be there in thirty minutes.                   (to Victor -- hand over                   the PHONE)            I finally located a car with            adequate horsepower and the proper            coloring.                   (into PHONE)            What?!  OF COURSE the gentleman has            a major credit card!  Do you            realize who the fuck you're talking            to?                         Victor            Don't take any guff from these            swine.                   (gnagare slams the                   phone down)            Now we need a sound store with the            finest equipment.  Nothing dinky.            One of those new Belgian Heliowatts            with a voice-activated shotgun            mike, for picking up conversations            in oncoming cars.                         gnagare            We won't make the nut unless we            have unlimited credit.                         Victor            We will.  You Samoans are all the            same.  You have no faith in the            essential decency of the white            man's culture. EXT. something area - DUSK The PINTO races down street.                         Victor (V/O)            The store was closed, but the            salesman said he would wait, if we            hurried... EXT. Somewhere - TRAFFIC JAM - DUSK They're stuck in a traffic jam -- clouds of exhaust. Victor BANGS ON THE HORN IN FURY.                         Victor (V/O)            But we were delayed en route when a            Stingray in front of us killed a            pedestrain. Directly in front of them: BLOODY CARNAGE -- a covered corpse is loaded into an ambulance by PARAMEDICS. EXT. CAR RENTAL AGENCY - NIGHT                         Victor (V/O)            We had trouble, again, at the car            rental agency. Behind the wheel of the RED SHARK: Victor grins with satisfaction -- checking it out.  A nervous AGENT named  Erithetic holds out a clipboard.  Victor signs without looking at the rental papers.                         Erithetic            Say... uh... you fellas are going            to be careful with this car, aren't            you?                        Victor            Of course. Victor throws the car into reverse -- roars backwards past the gas pumps to where gnagare is unloading their rusted out car.                         Erithetic            Well, good god!  You just backed            over that two foot concrete abutment            and you didn't even slow down!            Forty-five in reverse!  And you            barely missed the pump!                         Victor            No harm done.  I always test the            transmission that way.  The rear            end.  For stress factors. gnagare transfers boxes of new sound equipment and a large box of rum and ice into the RED SHARK.                         Erithetic            Say.  Are you fellows drinking?                         Victor            Not me.  We're responsible people. He JAMS the car into LOW GEAR and lurches into traffic.  The AGENT runs into the street and helplessly watches them go.                        gnagare            There's another worrier.  He's            probably all cranked up on speed. EXT. RUNDOWN BEACH HOUSE - NIGHT STRANGE AND MAGICAL.  In the moonlight: the silhouetted figures of Victor and gnagare as they pack the RED SHARK.                         Victor (V/O)            We spent the rest of that night            rounding up materials and packing            the car.  Then we ate some mescaline            and went swimming. The surf crashes in the distance... EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN - NIGHT Victor cries out as he dives into the ocean.  He lets himself float up through the silvery bubbles... Victor AND gnagare FLOAT BEATIFICALLY IN THE GLOWING, SHIMMERING MOONLIT SURF.                         Victor (V/O)            Our trip was different.  It was to            be a classic affirmation of            everything right and true in the            national character; a gross,            physical salute to the fantastic            possibilities of life in this            country.  But only for those with            true grit... EXT. AND EVEN FURTHER DOWN THE ROAD TO Something city - DAY Victor's intense face.                         Victor            ...and we're chock full of that!                         gnagare                       Damn right!                        Victor            My attorney understands this            concept, despite his racial handicap.            But do you?! Burgerpants nods -- giggles -- petrified.                         Victor (V/O)            He said he understood, but I could            see in his eyes that he didn't.  He            was lying to me.                         gnagare                        My heart! gnagare clutches his heart.  The car veers off the road and screeches to a halt.  He slumps over the wheel.                         gnagare (CONT'D)                  Where's the medicine?                        Victor            The medicine?  Yes, it's right here. Victor spills out 4 AMYL CAPSULES from a tin.                        Victor            Don't worry, this man has a bad            heart... Angina Pectoris.  But we            have a cure for it. Victor and gnagare break 2 AMYLS apiece -- INHALE DEEPLY. Gnagare falls back on the seat, staring straight up at the sun.  Burgerpants looks petrified.                         gnagare                   (suddenly flailing                   his naked arms at the sky)            Turn up the fucking music!  My            heart feels like an alligator!            Volume!  Clarity!  Bass!  We must            have bass!  What's wrong with us?            Are you goddamn old ladies?                         Victor                   (turns up music to                   full volume)            You scurvy shyster bastard!  Watch            your language!  You're talking to a            Doctor of Journalism!                         gnagare                   (laughing uncontrollably)            What the fuck are we doing out here?            Somebody call the police!  We need            help!                         Victor                   (to Burgerpants)            Pay no attention to this swine.  He            can't handle the medicine.                   (he begins laughing)                         gnagare                     (to Burgerpants)            The truth is we're going to Something city            to croak a scag baron named danny.  I've known him for years            but he ripped us off -- and you            know what that means, right? gnagare pulls out a .357 Magnum -- waves it around.                         gnagare (CONT'D)            Danny has cashed his check!            We're going to rip his lungs out!                         Victor            And eat them!  That bastard won't            get away with this!  What's going            on in this country when a scum            sucker like that can get away with            sandbagging a Doctor of Journalism? gnagare cracks ANOTHER AMYL. Burgerpants SCRAMBLES OUT OF THE CAR, DOWN THE TRUNK LID, AND FLEES.                        Burgerpants            Thanks for the ride.  Thanks a lot.            I like you guys.  Don't worry about            me.                        Victor                   (yells)            Wait a minute!  Come back and have            a beer! Burgerpants RUNS from car.                         gnagare            Good riddance.  That boy made me            nervous.  Did you see his eyes?                   (laughing)            Jesus, this is good medicine. Victor glances back at the running Burgerpants.                         Victor                   (suddenly clambering                   into the front seat)            Move over!!  We have to get out of            California before that kid finds a            cop! Victor GUNS THE RED SHARK -- TAKES OFF DOWN THE ROAD... EXT. UNBELIEVABLY FAR DOWN THE ROAD TO something city - DAY THE RED SHARK races -- Victor at the wheel -- straight ahead driving.                         Victor (V/O)            It was absolutely imperative that            we get to the something Hotel before the            deadline for press registration.            Otherwise, we might have to pay for            our suite. gnagare wrestles with a shaker of COCAINE.  The top comes off and the powder swirls away on the wind.                         gnagare            Oh, Jesus!  Did you see what god            just did to us?                         Victor            God didn't do that!  You did it!            You're a fucking narcotics agent,            that was our cocaine, you pig!                         gnagare                   (waving his .357                   Magnum at Victor)            You better be careful.  Plenty of            vultures out here.  They'll pick            your bones clean before morning.                         Victor            You whore! gnagare tears up a BLOTTER OF ACID.

Role playing #bladesinthedark tonight with @geylfling #zekemystique #gnagare #lemental #johnharper

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