Sunday, November 16, 2003

Alright. So here's me idea for the screenplay so far:

The protagonist (known as "Gershom") is a cynic. Judging students around him. He thinks everyone is a cliché. The teachers are irrelevent here; they exist only as deus ex machinas when needed. He is tired all the time. This is his last year of high school. His dream is to be able to manipulate and lie, but his lack of social skills impede him from doing so.

One day, his usual aimless walk leads him to a frosted window. It's at the end of a dark corridor he's never seen. He tries to pry the window open, to no avail. He can hear incoherent voices on the other side. He convinces himself it's the girls' washroom since it's the only place he's never been. Gershom elbows the glass pane. It shatters with ease. The light that had illuminated the window from behind is now gone. The voices continue to chatter after pausing for a moment. He climbs through, cutting his hand on the glass shards. A red light turns on with a clack, like one belonging to a lighthouse. He walks towards it. It remains the same distance away. The tunnel turns into a vortex that fills with rushing air. It stops. The light suddenly appears 3 inches from his nose. He rubs his eyes, temporarily blinded. Looking back, the broken window is whole again. He looks in front of him and the light has split into two cardboard cut-out holes. He looks through them and sees himself staring into a mirror, in the janitor's closet. He raises his hand to tap the glass, only to realise he, himself, is still in the dark, while the person who is looking back at him is doing his own thing. There are now two Gershoms, one inside the other. Gershom2 leaves the closet and chats up a girl leaning against a fountain. "Will you not love me as I've loved you?" he inquires. She rolls her eyes at him as she chews her gum. Gershom2 grabs her wrist and slams it against the wall. "I know but little. But I expect some social tact in the presence of a man. Has Mr. Earnshaw taught you nothing?" He lets go of her. She rubs her now purple wrist. "Fuckin' retard," she mutters to herself.

After a few days, Gershom realises that:

a) going through the window results in taking up the personality of a character from a famous literary work
b) he can only stay in character during school hours
c) at 3:00, he falls from where he stands, and is deposited inside a tube slide at a children's park 3km away.

School consists of a secretary that tells you to wait your turn even when there's no one ahead of you. The jocks use hockey sticks 8ft in length and wear padded foam tires around their bodies (*think Michelin Man). The in-school confessional booth is opened from lunch to dismissal. There are two sets of toilets in the washrooms. One that deodorizes excrement. The other, vomit. Gershom doesn't think the latter has been fixed for awhile.

Gershom begins to halluncinate after a few months. The students all start looking like the minor characters from which his daily persona is originally gleaned from. He starts seeing girls naked, with "truth-graphs" inside their translucent bodies. And as they talk to him, he sees the bars rise and fall based on how much, he thinks, they're telling him.

Two days later, he organises a sex-orgy and hangs himself, Brave New World-style.

Gah ... this story sucks killer ass. Help!

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