ILX Screenwriters Presents 'It was all Yello: The Coldwerk Sessions'

Florian: I'm afraid not.

Ralf: He is a very famous pop star, the singer in one of Britain's most well-known bands! I wonder why he is here?

Florian: Well, OK Ralf, since you seem to be acquainted with him, we shall grant him an audience. But no more than ten minutes. Since we will be returning to analog, we've got to move the Uberblitzigheitsynthesizer out of storage. It weighs 850 kg and moving it will surely occupy the remainder of the work day, so we don't have time to dilly dally with this so-called "Britpopper".

Ralf: (scowling) Analog ... grrrrr ... we shall speak about this later. (presses button on mixing console which opens the front door)

(Chris Martin enters. He is grinning from ear to ear and holding an infant)

Chris (speaking awkwardly): Gud morgan, meen hern and damen! Ich bin sehr shayn ... er ... meyn namen ist, und ... ich hab liebe far deyn musique ...

Florian: We speak English.

Chris (relieved): Oh, jolly good!

Florian: Why the child?

Chris: Oh, so sorry chaps. This is Apple ... (to baby) ... say hello Apple, say wewwo to the techno men!

Florian: Is it a fruit or a person?

Chris: She is my daughter!

Florian: Your daughter is fruit?

Chris: (somewhat taken aback) Well, no, she is a baby, of course, but we named her Apple. It is a very hip name, very Hollywood, as they say.

Florian: In Germany, we think it is inappropriate to bestow food names upon our children.

Ralf (approaching Chris): Don't listen to him, my British friend. His demeanor among children and strangers leaves something to be desired, but once you get to know him, he is a big softie. Welcome to our studio!

Chris: Thank you. I don't believe I introduced myself, I am ...

Ralf: No need, my friend, we know exactly who you are. Your tunes have made many a young girl swoon around these parts of Germany. Your mellow ditties make our Teutonic blood run smooth, pure molten love oozes from every corner of the room when your songs play on the radio, yes, you are very popular.

Chris: Thank you, thank you so much! I am so flattered.

Ralf: My favourite song is ... oh oh oh, I must sing it for you ... (aside to Chris): sometimes I like to sing this privately in the studio when Florian is on a restroom break

(presses button on sampler ... backing tracks for "Hall of Mirrors" play in the studio)

Ralf: (singing along to backing track)

Don't leave me HIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Don't leave me DRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY--IEIEIEIYYYYYYYYYYYY
Don't leave me HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Chris: NO NO NO NO NO. That is not my band!!! That is not me!!

Ralf: I am quite confused.

Chris: That is not my band, NOT MY BAND!!!! Stop with those comparisons, stop stop stop STOP STOP !!!!!!!!

Ralf: Oh dear.

(Chris composes himself)

Chris: So sorry boys, I didn't mean to snap at you like that.

Florian: So who are you?

(Chris picks up infant from the table)

Chris: I am Chris Martin, from the highly successful and politically relevant pop band Coldplay. I have a proposition for both of you, which will hopefully lead to a collaboration of sorts. It is part of my plan, my mission, my LIFE's MISSION, to distance myself from (glaring at Ralf) that *other* band.

Ralf: Yes, yes, Rad ...

Chris (abruptly interrupting): NO!!! That name will never again be uttered as long as you are in my presence. Farschteit Ihr?

Chris: She is my daughter!

Florian: Your daughter is fruit?"

This will not be topped.

why is it that i can DEFINITELY see florian saying something like this?!?

A looong white black windowed limo pulls to the curb and the door swings open.

czukay steps out and, gesturing violently to the darkened interior of the car, whispers hoarsely
: You fucker! I cannot be constantly on the tails of your husbands arse! I was hired as bass playing! Bass playing! Schultz knows I hate this celebrity bullshitting. Make your crapshit female blonde bullshit record without me...or Wobble!!!!

Boris (To himself): Hmmmm.

Dieter: Hello, my good friend. I have just come from the Dada Art Festival at the Swiss Museum of Modern Art. There was a crate full of oranges into which a man was projected wearing only his socks. It was amusing. How is our new song going?

Boris: It is cinematic, as usual. And yet, I feel strangely remote.

Dieter: Good, good, this is European ennui at work. I shall write some lyrics about a man deparying mysteriously from his lover in the dead of night in a limousine, leaving only a note implying he has a secret life.

Boris: No my kinky friend, this is genuine boredom. We need some new iind of idea in our music. Something a little rough and ready, like that English bricklayer with whom you once had a dalliance.

(Idly, Boris turns on the Bang and Olufsen TV. A clip is playing. It is 'Yellow' by Coldplay. They both watch for a while).

Dieter: That is a cheaply made and somewhat humourless clip. Do they live on this beach?

Boris: And yet, there is irony in that they are singing this song about us. I wonder which of our albums prompted such a sentiment?

(They both fall silent for a while, lost in thought)

Boris: Before you speak any further, let me remind you that you had a similar moment not six months ago.

Dieter: That too was a stellar moment. It is to our detriment that we did not follow-up on that idea.

Boris: You proposed that we gather the winners of Pop Idol and Deutschland Sucht Den Superstar and record a disco album of 18th century opera with both German and English lyrics being sung simultaneously. This was a terrible idea.

Dieter: When you say it like that, you make it sound so bizarre and unworkable. I am confident that it would have succeeded had it been staged at midnight in the courtyard of the Rathaus with the performers wearing wildlife costumes. The visual spectacle was central to the concept.

But never mind that now, for this one is better. These fresh-faced Coldplay fellows needs our help. These sincere, adolescent love ballads are relics from the past. Look at this video! It is so serious, there is no humour! This song will never be a hit. And the imagery -- so peurile, so basic, so obvious! The rising sun as a metaphor for the blossoming of young love? Bah!

Boris (stroking his chin): Hmmm ... go on.

Dieter: These young Britons must be shown the way. Our electronic wizardry, technological savvy, production skills, Teutonic humour, and expertise in the visual arts, together with their boy-next-door accessibility, it cannot fail! With them serving as front matter, and us as the string-pulling svengalis, pop stardom will once again be ours. It must work! It worked with Tatu, it will work for us!

Boris: Dieter, I honestly believe this is your best idea in fifteen years. I am so excited, I don't even have the motivation to continue slapping my ass here in the studio. We must contact these Coldplay fellows at once. This is an offer they cannot refuse.

Eventually, though, there has to be a fight. I vote for a remote control car fight or something. The camera will pan to the two Yello guys and then back to the Kraftwerk guys as they each maneuver their toy cars by remote control and they will have these comical eager looks on their faces. Or maybe they fight over synthesizers. One guy accidentally spills coffee on the mixing board. Chris Martin drives his Masarati literally through the studio and gets out of the car wearing a contraption much like those associated with 10,000 Leagues Under The Sea. He removes the head of the wetsuit and says...

"He theenks he is goinv to save de universe!" they say of this young upstart singer superstar Chris Martin as he steps out of the spaceship. "But not without our help, Boris!"

Of course, the problem is none of this can actually be resolved. Until we witness the moment when ostensibly, Coldplay's new album ACTUALLY TRAGICALLY SUCKS ASS.

Dieter: You gotta say yes, this is a brilliant idea indeed! But how are we able to locate these Coldplay characters?

Boris: My friend, that shall not pose a problem. While you've been busy painting red police cars green, I've been silently yet steadily keeping up with the march of modern technology. From the video we've just seen, I am able to synthesize the attributes of the lead singer and feed them into a global positioning system, and thereby pinpoint his whereabouts to...

[Boris pushes a few buttons on his machinery.]

Dieter: Oh yeah...?

Boris: ...to Kling Klang studios, Düsseldorf!

Dieter: Kling Klang! Surely thEse are not the premises where those arch-rivals of ours, der Krafwerk, reside?

Boris: They surely are!

Dieter: Kraftwerk! Domingo de Santa Clara! Those Germanic sons of moms of guns! Could they be on the same track as we are?

Boris: It must be so! Coincidence may be of our game, but certainly not theirs.

Dieter: Curses and double-curses! I wish the wind would blow, and... We mustn't let those half-living half-automatons, those bastard mannequins of the positivist era, steal our thunder again! The might of our trimmed moustaches must prevail over that of their trimmed haircuts!

Boris: Yes, but...

Dieter: I know what you're about to say: they have the power of the critical mass behind them. The critics were willing to wait 12 years for their new LP, while in the meantime we've been churning out new records to no one's notice.

Boris: This is, then, a perfect time to reveal the secret weapon I've kept hidden for more than a decade.

Dieter: A secret weapon?

Boris: Yes! Remember poor, late Billy Mackenzie (God rest his soul) with whom we used to work in the late eighties?

Dieter: How could I forget? When I heard of his death, I wrote a screenplay in which he was reincarnated as a mariachi in a lonesome village, around which the whispers of his lady-love still mix with the ghost moans of shadow buffalos, forever...

Boris: Not now, Dieter! To continue my story, when we were working with Billy in our studio, I did a test run for a crude prototype of an apparatus I've gotten hold of. Seemingly, I was only recording a back-up track of his vocals, but in reality I was, via his voice, channelling and replicating the essence of his soul. That soul and that voice are now captured inside this box!

[Boris picks up a small metallic box ornamented wíth fluorescent characters.]

Dieter: Boris! My dear genius of a friend! That is a veritable ghost in the machine! It could prove essential in our struggle against the Teutonic Mayhem.

Boris: It could indeed. But now, we have little time to waste; Düsseldorf is our destination! To the Yellotron!

Dieter: To the Yellotron!

[The Mustachioed Duo runs towards a gigantic, illuminated snowball, situated in the middle of the Yello studio. They step inside it and close the entrance behind them. The surface of the snowball begins to flicker with iridescent light. The room is full of crackles and echoes and hums, not unlike the ones young Boris once produced sampling his mother's false teeth. The lights and sounds gradually fade out, to total silence. Only a faint smell of methane, barely discernible, hangs in the air as the only proof of what just took place.]

END OF ACT I.

Tuomas, your contribution was brilliant...and of course I loved the incorporation of Mr. Mackenzie as a secret weapon.

Ralf: Florian, what is heaven?

Florian: You know I am agnostic, Ralf. Please, let us get back to work.

Ralf: Heaven is the place where the police are British, the chefs French, the mechanics German, the lovers Italian and all under the organization of the Swiss.

Florian: Oh. Then what is hell?

Ralf: Hell is the place where the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, the police German, and all under the organization of the Italians.

[both break out in a fit of restrained chuckling]

Florian: That was pleasant, Ralf.

Ralf: Yes, Ulrike told me that one over the weekend.

Florian: Ah, sehr gut. Very entertaining.

Ralf: Yes, I know. The Swiss are so lame, they are not the lovers of wine and women like we Germans are.

Florian: So true. They are unrefined.

[awkward silence for a few seconds]

Florian: Ralf, do you think we are doing the right thing?

Ralf [puts down the new vacuum tube]: Florian, we are not switching back to digital so soon. I have spent three days trying to fix this sythesizer and I don't want my work to go to waste.

Florian: No, the analog synth is not the problem. It is Mr. Martin.

Ralf: I think he is swell!

Florian: Yes, he is an upstanding fellow. But ... well ... listen to this track we were working on yesterday

[Florian cues up a new track. The backbone of the song is a glitchy melody which is quite clearly sampled from the piano line in "Clocks" and fed through a high pass filter. Over this simple melody, Chris Martin wails the following lines in a knee-wobbling falsetto:

Every place has its right thing
Every place has its right thing
Every [static] has its [glitch] thing
[glitch] place has [slurp] right th-[blip]

[Ralf and Florian look at each other uncomfortably]

Ralf: It is OK.

Florian: Yes, it is OK. This is the problem. We are Kraftwerk! Does this measure up to our usual lofty standard? I think this track is unoriginal and derivative. We have our reputation to worry about.

Ralf: You do have a point. We were never any good at collaboration. It didn't work out with Karl and Wolfgang, why should this time be any different?

Florian: Exactly.

[both break out in a fit of restrained chuckling]

Goddamn hilarious and I'm using it as my away message in AIM if it fits.

2. The best parts have consistantly been all of the avant-gardy type things they do. The joke never gets old.

Florian(mutters sharply): Who is that?

Ralf: I don't know, perhaps it is one of Ute's swimming companions.

Florian(disgustedly): Swimming is such a proletarian sport. Is that not the fruit child?

Chris Martin walks into the studio.

Chris: Gwyneth! Oh great. Can you buzz her in guys?

Ralf and Florian look at each other, the door opens.

Gwyneth Paltrow enters the studio and looks around cooly. Chris bounces up to meet her and a flurry of kisses and hugs are exchanges. Ralf and Florian are aghast.

Gywneth: Oh hi, you must be the cycling guys. Chris has told me all about you. Chris has been teaching me accoustic guitar, but I'm sure I'm not as good as you guys.

Apple is on the floor crawling towards a bundle of cables which are connected to the Uberblitzigheitsynthesizer. She starts pulling on one of them.

Ralf and Florian: NO!

They jump up to grab the child, but Chris has beaten them too it.

Chris: Apple, you little minx. She gets in everywhere, she just loves being involved.

Ralf and Florian sit back down. A bead of sweat on Florian's forehead.

Gwyneth: Hey Chris, have you told the guys about your idea with Apple.

Ralf: What idea would this be?

Chris: Well I was listening to the Outkast album and Big Bad Boy or Andrew 2000, I can't remember which one, had there son on it. I was thinking maybe we could sample Apple talking. Or singing (smiles sheepishly)

Ralf and Florian shuffle awkwardly in there leather chairs. A silence descends on the studio, only broken when Apple starts crying.

Tuoumas, Barry, fantastic work. My dad tells that joke all the time, Barry.

I have been trying to come up with something but dammit, I can't compete. I'll go and get you all coffee and a BLT. Keep up the good work!

I think that Yello should probably get the upper hand, temporarily at least, at some point, through some kind of bizarre but essentially European-flavoured Dadaist plot stunt that could have come straight out of one of their videoclips.

Clearly, "The Race" must play during the scene changes, and in the background while the chorus of synthesizers addresses the audience.

I have an idea that Dieter will imagine redoing Coldpay's clip for Yellow in an elaborate fantasy sequence which ends with him stealing Gwyneth Paltrow.

Also, as was indicated upthread, Holger Czukay must make a random psychedelic cameo at some point.

Dieter: I have not seen a single golf course on the entire drive.

Boris: Do not fear, once we are pop svengalis, you can spend every day on the finest golf courses in Europe while the money from our music and merchandise sales comes streaming in!

Dieter: I won't be coming back to this shithole city, that's for sure. [pause] I can't believe we had to drive ourselves.

Boris: There was no other option -- we could not risk flying the Yellotron directly into the city, for fear of being recognized.

Dieter: That person at the ... what did you call it?

Boris: The rental office.

Dieter: Yes, that. His accent was so harsh, so uncultured. His hair was so messy, his blond locks so unpleasing to my eyes.

Boris: The Germans from these parts are hideously unskilled in the art of grooming. They are not the lovers of wine and women like ourselves.

Dieter: Yes, Germans are so unrefined. But enough small talk -- the meeting is arranged.

Boris: Yes. Using the same technology we used to capture poor Billy McKenzie's voice, I captured the voice of ... what is his name again?

Dieter: [checks notes on palm pilot] Mr. Martin

Boris: Of course, Mr. Martin. Anyway, Mr. Martin believes he is meeting his wife for coffee in the cafe at 15:00. We will be there waiting for him.

Dieter: An excellent plan this is. We still must discuss what to do with the aforementioned spouse. She cannot be part of the equation, it will be bad for the band's uber-accessible boy-toy image.

Boris: Let's discuss it tonight over lobster tail and caviar. It's been a long day so far.

+

I have an idea that Dieter will imagine redoing Coldpay's clip for Yellow in an elaborate fantasy sequence which ends with him stealing Gwyneth Paltrow

=

gold

Jean-Herve: HELLO!!! I AM SO HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH YOU HERE TONIGHT AT LAST!!!

Boris (quietly to Dieter): Is that...

Dieter: Of course it is. Jean-Herve! Lifelong lunatic! It has been three decades!

Jean-Herve (screaming): YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING AND I RETURN AT LAST TO BRING YOU... THIS!!! (waves arms madly) HELLO!!!

Dieter: Wonderful to see you. I often play for myself the cassette of our jam session.

Jean-Herve wraps his arms around Dieter for a bear hug from the back seat, laughing and occasionally gibbering the word "Friend". He also pulls a small dictophone out of his pocket and presses play: the tinny sounds of arrhythmic acoustic guitar strumming and prolonged wordless screaming mingles with the sound of Jean-Herve's laughter.

Jean-Herve: MY SOLO ALBUM!!! I AM MAD BUT REAL!!!

Dieter: You can not fool me, old friend. Hardly as mad as you take pains to affect. Perhaps a renegade Frenchman would care to join us on our stealth mission against our old arch foes?

Jean-Herve: WE... We... didn't care... made no opportunities to contact the other bands. It was a foolish waste. Perhaps now is the time to make amends?

Jean-Herve pauses for a moment. Then begins laughing hysterically, and bolts out of the car, leaving behind his dictophone, which continues to play.

I had a brainstorm while away just now -- I will now write the cafe scene.

HYSTERICS! Tuomas, I kiss you!

Dieter: I'm not sure, but he left his sonic device behind. We shall stash it, it may prove useful. Now, let's continue our journey.

[Boris starts the car again.]

Boris: So, Dieter, good fellow, tell us about your plot. How do you plan to fool those arch-rivals of ours, those demagogues of reverse Luddism, those Apollonian knights with flawless armors of circuitry and reason?

Dieter: Boris, that was beautifully put!

Boris: Thank you, dear friend. About your plan...

Dieter: Yes. While we're.. persuading Mr. Martin, we need a diversion to keep Herren Hütter und Schneider occupied. And that is where good old Billy steps in. We shall conjure him up from your device and send him to Kling Klang, and he shall pose as this Martin fellow.

Boris: Do you not think they shall notice the switch?

Dieter: Of course not. The whole idea is so ludicrous that they could never even imagine anyone actually applying it. Der Kraftwerk are adept with machinery, not with human beings of blood and bile. They won't know one pop hipster from another...

Dieter [continued]: Also, I've purchased a toupee.

Boris: Brilliant! But do you not feel sorry for the soul of poor Billy?

Dieter: Ah, but this is just a temporary arrangement, and he shall have his reward in the end.

Boris: Speaking of arrangements, what do you propose we'll do with that blonde spouse-woman of our star?

Dieter: Don't you worry the least bit about that, I have my own plans for her...

Dieter: The owner has cleared the last of the customers from the cafe. Now we have the place to ourselves. Mr. Martin will have no trouble finding us and we will be able to talk about sensitive business matters in peace.

Boris: I am worried, Dieter. The cafe owner didn't look happy when you paid him off. I'm not sure if we can trust him. I think he suspects something.

Dieter: Nonsense! Remember Boris, we are not in Schweiz anymore. Right here, this is 21st century Europe! These Germans know how to follow orders, they are used to it now from the French.

Boris and Dieter: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Dieter (sipping his coffee): With all their engineering expertise, you'd think the Germans would be able to engineer a simple cup of coffee. No wonder it only costs 2 Euro.

Boris: What is that, 3.5 CHF?

Dieter: At home, I never drink a cup for less than 46 CHF.

Boris: Never mind it, Dieter, the coffee is merely a prop. Did you have ample time to study the English slang dictionary I downloaded to your palm pilot?

Dieter: I did look it over. But I'm not sure it will be necessary for this particular meeting. I believe Mr. Martin is at least semi-polite, not "yobbish" as his people might say, so I doubt I will have to resort to that sort of language. It will come in handy when dealing with the rest of the band, though.

Boris: Dieter, your plans are foolproof as always.

Dieter: Thank you. Oh, I see him approaching the cafe right now. Remember, I will do all of the talking. Do not say anything until I give you the signal.

Boris: Yes.

[Chris Martin enters the cafe, looking around with concern. After a few moments, Dieter calls to him]

Dieter: It seems this place is not too popular, wouldn't you say?

Chris: I believe so.

Dieter: Perhaps it is a clear sign as to the quality of the coffee, haha.

[Chris smiles awkwardly, but does not laugh]

[more to follow soon, I am breaking up this long post]

Hahahahaha

Jeez guys slow down, some of us have jobs.

Sorry, I thought he left the stage at the end of Jon L's scene... I don't know the dude, so I had no idea what to do with him.

Also, I offer anyone more familiar with Billy Mackenzie than I am to write the scene with him and Kraftwerk.

Chris: Thank you, but I will be meeting somebody here.

Dieter: I'm sure she will be along soon. Until then, sit with us. Have a non-metric beverage, I mean, pint of your choice. We will keep you company while you wait for her.

Chris [perplexed]: How did you know that I am meeting a woman?

Dieter: [flustered, realizing his mistake] Oh, well of course, good chap, of course you are meeting a woman ... you are obviously a strapping young lad, I'm sure you pull all of the best birds.

Chris: Well, OK, just one drink.

[Dieter signals to the server, who promptly brings the beer]

Boris [aside to Dieter]: That was close, good job of keeping your wits about you

Dieter [aside to Boris]: Yes, I believe he is in our hands now.

Dieter [to Chris]: Now, let us dispense with the idle chatter. We know why you are here. We heard your homage to us, and we like it. We like you. We want to help you.

Chris: I'm afraid I don't understand you.

Dieter: Of course, you are shy, this is understandable! We are not like most electronic music pioneers on the continent, we are down to earth, we are like you, we are men of the pub! We may appear to be men of stature, but we are not! Look at the Hives, for instance! These suits, our manner of grooming, it is a costume, a game. Pop music is a game, and we want to play it with you and your friends.

We received your message, your cry for help. We saw the video on MTV Europe, and it moved us -- such a heartfelt tribute. But you know as well as I do that you are capable of more. Together, we can transform your masses-pandering wimp-ballardy into a true hit! We received your call -- we considered it a summons -- and the sooner we get down to work, the sooner you and your bandmates come under our control, er, tutelage, the sooner the quality of both our art and our lives will improve.

Chris: I'm getting the fuck out of here [runs for the door]

Dieter [to Boris]: Hmm ... I had a feeling that my words might provoke this reaction. Boris -- now!!

[Boris switches on his voice channeler -- the same one they used to lure Chris to the cafe in the first place -- and begins speaking. He speaks in a perfect imitation of Gwyneth Paltrow's voice]

Boris: No, Chris, come back. They want to help you. Stay here with these nice men. Me and Apple want you to stay here with them.

[Chris pauses, clearly transfixed by the voice. He is in a hypnotic state]

Chris: Yes, oogums. Of course.

Dieter: Success! He is ours now. Everything is working perfectly so far. Come, we must check on faux-Billy at the Kling Klang studio.

(scene: Boris, with Dieter in the passenger seat of the Yello Smart Car, driving in a very fast and dangerous fashion to Kling Klang. Music: ‘I Love You’. But just as we sense excitement and action afoot, there is a subtle slide in mood. In a cinematic move reminiscent of The Beatles’ movie Magical Mystery Tour, when Paul is sitting on the bus staring out of the window, about to sing ‘Fool On The Hill, the camera pans over to Dieter, looking dreamily out at the passing cars, in a world of his own, oblivious to Boris’s absurdly risk-taking driving. We sense he is dreaming, far away. Through a gigantic reverb, we hear the strains of the Coldpay classic, ‘Yellow’, coming over the horizon. As it meets its maximum volume we are suddenly transported through the most ironically gimleted eye of Dieter (his left one). We are suddenly in the world of a video clip for the song that exists only in his imagination.

Look at the stars; look how they shine for you
And everything you do
Yeah, they were all yellow

(visuals: Chris Martin is on what looks like a 1930’s/art deco movie set. In the background are Dieter and Boris, elegantly besuited, in a statue pose which, like Kraftwerk, they ripped off long ago from Gilbert & George. Boris has his hand in his suit jacket; the other holds a small black chiuwawa, tethered by an elegant leash. Chris wears a painted clown face and suit, and a red nose, with ginger wig. He does not sing but acts out the feelings in the lyrics, gazing yearningly up at a painted backdrop of the sky with gold tin foil stars.)

I came along; I wrote a song for you

(visuals: Chris Martin, as clown, in an archetypal composer’s setting at piano, with a framed photo of Gwyneth Paltrow on top posed as a 1930's starlet. The clown is pasting lagre yellow semi quavers into an even larger, yellow, blank music stave book)

And all the things you do
And it was called yellow

(visuals: Chris Martin/clown, obviously unhappy with his creative efforts, crumples up the huge stave book and tosses it over his shoulder, where, floating up from below (for we suddenly see that the composing studio is on a wooden, painted white cloud high up in the eves of a theatre), in a hot air balloon/waste paper basket, appear Dieter and Boris, with angels wings attached to their suits. They catch the crumpled composition book. Boris sprinkles it with glittering angel dust, and it is suddenly uncrumpled and aglow. Given new life, it flutters up to the ceiling and out through a skylight, through which pure white light pours. As the song fades back into reverb, the camera pans up into the night sky above the theatre and we see Boris and Dieter on a wooden, painted a cloud, in statue/hero pose, training a huge 1930’s style floodlight upon the composition book, which takes to the night sky and flies away, into the horizon, reborn as it were; and becomes the star at the very apex of a gigantic wedding cake, hovering over a bride and groom: Gwyneth Paltrow and Dieter Meier. Suddenly the camera zooms in on Dieter’s more gimleted eye and goes right through into the real world. The reverie is over. Boris applies the brakes; we have arrived at Kling Klang Studios.)

Ralf [slamming down the phone]: You'd think that more companies would still carry GE Model 2948 vacuum tubes from 1975, but you'd be wrong.

Florian: Ralf, the synth patches from that sythesizer have never been bettered. The sounds are archaic but they are classic. Do not be frustrated, it will be worth it in the end.

Ralf: I know.

Florian: Tell me, Ralf, have you noticed anything strange about Mr. Martin today?

Ralf: He seems fine to me.

Florian: I have my doubts. For instance, he keeps talking about the year 1997. Yesterday, we were compiling a database of samples from "Music has the Right to Children", but this morning, he seemed confused -- it's as if he had never heard those samples or that album before.

Ralf: I think he is having a hard time with the language barrier here in Germany. It is stressing him out.

Florian: Ja, you are right. He needs his rest. Excuse me, I must head to the restroom.

[Florian slowly walks toward the restroom. His head is bowed, he is exhausted from working overtime in the Kling Klang studios to obtain some semblance of worthwhile music from the collaboration. He hadn't worked so much overtime since the "Computer World" sessions. As he shuts the door to the restroom behind him, he looks up and sees an amazing sight.

[It is Holger Czukay, lit from behind by a bright white light, it is almost as though he is glowing. He is wearing a long, flowing white cape, and is adorned with flower wreaths and flashy jewelery. Is is eerily reminiscent of the ghost of Christmas Present. His hair is purple, with his greying hair magically replaced by curly locks. He is laughing and eating from a bowl of seedless grapes.]

Florian [rubbing his eyes]: Holger, is that you?

Holger: Achtung, Florian, achtung! A famous philosopher once warned that imminently, bad moon would rise.

Florian: What? Here?

Hahahahahahaha. (All of this is totally amazing)

Billy [speaking to himself]: O ye cruel, cruel Goddesses! Why did you bestow upon me such a black, such a joyless fate? To be summoned from the sweet embrace of Hades back to this colourless world, lacking a true soul and possessing only a synthesized replacement. And, on top of that, having to act as a pawn in some elabourate scheme cooked up by those wily, more-crooked-than-a-cuckoo-clock Swissmen, Dieter and Boris! And yet I have to succumb to their will, for they have promised me the one thing my artificial heart desires. But why, oh why, do I feel so wrong? Those gentlemen, those gentle men of the Kraftwerk have been so hospitable towards me, and still I have to betray them! O Heavens! Is there no way out of this trap?

Billy [raises his gaze towards the sky, begins to sing]:Show me the waaaaaayyyyyyyyy...!!!

[The voice of Billy Mackenzie rises to his renowned falsetto and, strengthened by his anguish, above. The coffee mugs, the glass tubes, the windows of Kling Klang begin to tremble. The roof lamp of the coffee room shatters.]

Boris: Dieter?

Dieter: Hmmm?

Boris: I was thinking of something. If I remember correctly, old Billy was always straight as an arrow. What makes you so sure he'll do as we command? What if he has a stroke of conscience and decides to tell on us to der Kraftwerk?

Dieter: That will not happen. I have a way of pulling his strings.

Boris: You do? What is it?

Dieter: Think about it... If you were to die in the midst of recording of what was to be your final LP, if you then were to be brought back to life, only to learn that the LP was completed and released posthumously, what would your gravest wish be?

Boris: I don't get it... No, maybe I do! You wouldn't have...

Dieter [opens the glove department]: I would, and I did. Here are the master tapes.

Boris: You mad genius!

[End of Tarantinoesque cut.]

Florian: Ralf.

Ralf: Yes?

Florian: I feel I may have witnessed a somewhat distressing apparition. It was...

[Florian stops mid-sentence when a falsetto voice is heard through the walls. The voice grows louder and louder. The windows of the studio start to vibrate. A small crack appears into the glass Florian's holding.]

Ralf and Florian [shouting]: Der Überblitzigheitsynthesizer-mini!

[The two men jump on both sides of the syntesizer to protect its delicate vacume tubes from the sound with their bodies. After a few seconds, the falsetto singing stops.]

Florian [looks at the synthesizer]: Is it...?

Ralf: It appears to be unharmed.

Ralf and Florian: Whew!

Florian: Something rather out of ordinary seems to be taking place around Kling Klang.

Ralf: It would seem so. Perhaps we should investigate...

Chris: Darling, I really can't see the point of wearing this thing. Shouldn't we...

Boris [interrupts, with Gwyneth's voice]: Shh, love! It's a surprise, you'll soon find out.

Chris: A surprise? Golly!

Dieter [looks out of the car window, then whispers to Boris]: Boris! Look! There in the shadows...

[Gwyneth Paltrow is walking towards Kling Klang. With her right arm, she is carrying baby Apple, with the left, a large neo-expressionist painting.]

Gwyneth [to herself]: I wonder what those nice bicycle fellows think of my idea for the record cover... True, I haven't painted for ten years... but they are fellow artists, they must understand that when insipiration strikes, you shouldn't resist it.

Dieter [to Boris, whispering]: Perfect! Perfect! Everything is going right according to my plans. Let's set the wheels in motion!

Czukay and Peron will make their return cameos, obviously.

-- Tuomas

Yes please Tuomas!

[as the scene begins, Flur is about to play back a vocal track that he has just recorded a few minutes earlier]

FLOWER SONG VII

Wolfgang[voice heard in vocal track]:

The flowers I adore!
Red and blue and green
Such beautiful objects
The prettiest I have seen!

Oh I adore the flowers
Their colours shine like crystal
If you will be my stamen
Then I will be your pistil

Wolfgang[speaking]: No, it is not right. The song doesn't work well with my voice -- it is not even anatomically correct! Why will Peaches not return my phone calls? Ralf and Florian's lawyers must have gotten through to her before I did -- they have told her to stay away, that is the only explanation. Why must they treat me this way and undermine my creativity?

[the phone rings, and Wolfgang answers]

Wolfgang: Hello?

[Dieter's voice is heard on the other line]

Dieter: Dearest Wolfgang, upstanding lover of the finest women and dance music, upholder of the electronic pop vanguard, kind soul and heartfelt human being, appreciator of the high arts, man of pan-European civility and grace, how are you my friend?

Wolfgang: Dieter Meier, can it be? All the same to you good sir, it has been so long!

Dieter: Too long, my gentle servant, too long.

Wolfgang: To what do I owe this phone call?

Dieter: Dearest Wolfgang, must there be a reason to speak with a man of excellence such as yourself?

Wolfgang: Oh, I suppose not. Dieter, you flatter me so.

Dieter: Although in this particular instance I have called to ask a favour of you. I may be requiring your assistance in a particular business matter during the following week.

Wolfgang: Next week? My sincerest apologies, for next week is booked solid for me. I am presently holed away until the Yamo album is finished. You know I would do anything to help you if it were possible, but in this instance, my songs must take precedence.

Dieter: This is no ordinary business matter. Also, it is not necessarily certain that we will be needing you, I think of your aid in this matter as more of an insurance policy.

Wolfgang: Still, I am afraid it will not be possible.

Dieter: Have I mentioned that this involves your former friends -- nay, acquaintances -- nay, employers in Kraftwerk.

Wolfgang [aside to audience]: He is correct, of course. They were never my friends. Their only friends are their dark, uncaring hearts. I served them so well, I brought them to discos, I showed them how to party. And what did I receive? I was served by the cold arms of the law -- their lawyers, to be precise. Fortunately, is the coldest dish of all, even colder than their frigid, cavernous souls.

Wolfgang [on the phone to Dieter]: I am available. If you need me, do not hesitate to call.

[16-voice sythesizer chorus]:

Oh, those tricky Swiss! The plot thickens into a fondue-like state. Can this plan succeed?

Fortunately, revenge is the coldest dish of all, even colder than their frigid, cavernous souls.

Boris [calling through the voicebox, with Chris's voice]: Gwyneth! Pumpkin pie!

Chris: What was that? It almost sounded like...

Boris [with Gwyneth's voice]: It was nothing, love, I was just, er, practicing my imitation skills...

Chris: That was wonderful, my respect for you as an actor just keeps on growing!

[Gwyneth walks to the car, summonded by Boris's call. Dieter opens the back door.]

Dieter: Would you please step inside the car, madam.

Gwyneth: Chris? What's this? Why are you wearing that thing?

Chris: Oh, it's nothing, honey, you told me yourself it was a surprise.

Gwyneth: Did I? Gee, sounds cool! I love surprises!

Dieter: Yes, and a fine surprise it shall be! Would be kind enough to wear one of these as well [hands Gwyneth a bindfold] not ruin the surprise.

Gwyneth: Sure. [Puts the blinfold on.] But what about Apple? I can't see her now.

Dieter: There's no need to worry about your child, madam, I'll take care of her for the duration of our trip. If you just hand her over...

Gwyneth: Oh. Sure. [Hands baby Apple to Dieter.] You sound like such a trustworthy man.

Dieter: And I shall assure you I won't break your trust. Boris, start the engine!

[The car rolls off.]

Ralf: Mr. Martin! Did you hear that sound? [Looks at the broken lamp.] What happened to our lighting?

Billy: Uh... Sound, what sound? I didn't hear anything? I was just, er, enjoying my daily hour in the dark.

Ralf: Daily hour in the dark?

Florian [aside to Ralf]: You know those pop stars...

[Ralf and Florian shake their heads.]

Ralf: Well, something is amiss in here. Perhaps outside the studio...

[The sound of a car engine starting and tires screeching is heard through the walls. Ralf and Florian run outside just in time to witness the car of Boris and Dieter driving off. Ralf pulls out of his pocket a small gadget that looks like a modified calculator, points it at the car and pushes a couple of buttons.]

Florian: Am I completely wrong if I say that the blonde woman on the backseat appeared to be the wife of our singer?

Ralf: No, I think you're right. And the moustached gentleman holding the fruit child...

Florian: ...looked exactly like Dieter Meier. And the fellow beside him must've been Boris Blank.

[They look at each other.]

Ralf: I guess you must understand what these occurences imply to...?

Florian: I think I do.

Ralf: Did you manage to notice who the other person on the backseat was?

Florian: No, he was left in the shadows. What about you, did you get the readings out of the car?

Ralf: Of course I did, dumkopf, I can be speedy enough if the situation so necessitates.

Florian: I did not mean to doubt that. Well, at least we have something to work with. I guess we have little choice but to do as any decent person would do, in a situation like this.

Ralf: Yes, you are right. But first we must inform poor Mr. Martin about this unfortunate state of things.

[The pair walks inside the studio, where they find Billy.]

Florian: Mr. Martin! I fear we have some terrible news for you. Your wife has been, so we think, kidnapped by the dadaist electropop duo Yello from Switzerland.

Billy: My wife...? But... Ah, yes, my wife! Didn't I, er, also have a child, what about the child?

Ralf: Yes, it would seem that the child is in their hands as well.

Billy [to himself]: Boris and Dieter, exactly how far are you willing to go? [To Ralf and Florian:] Oh dear, what devastating tidings! Poor Gwyneth and... uh... Pear!

Ralf: There is no need for desperation. You should get yourself properly dressed, we have a plan...

Felicity (Bronx drawl):

Damn, Merril, just take the call already!

Peaches:

See I'm the kind of girl who works with the best
Dressed or undressed, they gotta pass the test
I smoke a ciggy with Iggy or a cone with Joan
An ex-Kraftwerk drummer, out on his own?
Damn it girl, just hang up the phone!

Felicity:

This ain't that Fluhr guy, Merril! It's your father. Damn, just take the call!

Peaches:

It's daddy?? (she accepts the handset)

Rabbi Nisker:

Merril? My little babk? How are you princess, are eating properly? Ruth and I worry about you. Berlin is a dangerous place, full of moral degerates!

Merril:

I'm fine daddy, I just released a new album, everything's going great!

Rabbi Nisker:

This is more of that folk music? Why did you give up the violin?

(folio: female voice in background: 'She played that violin like an angel!').

That's your mother - Ruth, speak to your daughter already!

(folio: female voice in background: 'Ask her, did she get the gefilte fish package I gave to Lottsie?')

Ask her yourself aready! Merril, are you still playing that folk music??

Peaches:

Sure... sure dad. I'm still playing that folk music.

Rabbi Nisker:

What's that? Hang on... (folio: muffled voices) Your mother wants to know what your album's called so she can look out for it and tell her friends.

Peaches:

It's called... it's called Father Lover.

Rabbi Nisker:

Father Lover? What kind of a name is that?

(scene fades with camera lingering on Felicity Publicity's face, as she chews gum and shakes her head)

Or maybe a cliffhanger in the Swiss alps?

Eventually, Kraftwerk figure out what is going on (perhaps after another couple of days with Billy/Chris) and will take off in pursuit (they are conflicted: glad to be rid of Chris, but knowing they must do the right thing and save him). Once they figure it all out, Dieter dispatches Wolfgang to intercept them, with Peaches following Wolfgang (hoping to get the collaboration over with), and eventually everyone meets up at the video shoot (which could very well be in the Swiss alps), and shit goes down.

I'm not trying to dictate the storyline, that's just the general arc that popped into my head. Anyone who wants to vary it should feel free to do so.

Any resemblance to James Bonds OHMSS is purely coincidence.

(x-post)

At some point Kraftwerk with their fake Chris are in the studio having an argument while their synths bubble and chug away in the background. Florian begins to bob his knee to the beat, Ralf taps one finger and slowly their fight dissolves away as they all succumb to the beat. They have finally found their hit and we see a musical montage of the three dancing around like robots. Cut to the Yello studio where Boris, Dieter and the real Chris are having the same moment. We hear a different song but at the same key and tempo which cuts in seamlessly with the Kraftwerk song.

Cut from a shot of the Yello studio to the same shot viewed on a video monitor. Slow move back to reveal an entire bank of screens monitoring different studios and a wall full of reel-to-reel machines slowly turning and red lights blinking. The screens and other equipment seem to be recessed into a rock wall as though we're in some kind of subterranean grotto. Pull back further to reveal a shadowy figure sitting at the recording console with his back to the camera. He begins to chuckle to himself while puffing up plumes of smoke. As the chuckle rises into manaical laughter he stops abruptly, presses an intercom button and orders in a thick Swiss accent: "We have a hit. You will print up the album covers now."

(interior of a record store one week later)

Boris and Dieter have let Chris out of the studio for a break. He wears a big curly wig and dark sunglasses as a disguise and is followed closely by a bodyguard/captor. As he browses through the records he stops at an end display and picks a prominently displayed album. We see a close-up of the cover which features photos of Chris, Ralf & Florian, Yello, Bjork and Aphex Twin and reads "The Cold Cosmic Players." Chris, visibly angry flips the album over and reads outloud "production von Rolf-Ulrich Kaiser." In a blind rage and still clutching the album he bolts from the store, sets off the security alarm and is chased by the bodyguard.

cut to...

(interior, RU Kaiser's underground lair, Brazil)
Still sitting in his chair behind the console, Kaiser is watching his surveillance monitors when one of his lackeys (a young woman in a glittery silver jumpsuit) enters...
Cosmic Lackey - "Sir, The Cold Cosmic Players have reached number one"
Kaiser (grinning) - Inform me at once when the first checks begin to come in. I can feel it. The day is drawing near. The galaxy's ultimate boy band... so long in the shadows.... waiting to be born... my glorious vision will rise at last!
Kaiser swivels around in his chair and does another evil laugh. The camera whips up to reveal several large glass jars mounted in the wall under a sign reading "DNA Samples." The jars are labelled with names like Manuel Gšttsching and Klaus Schulze. The wall is papered over with blueprints of scientific equipment along with costume designs and hairstyle sketches for a boy band. Six large pre-teen boy sized chambers sit empty and glow with a pulsing light.

Peaches was just a little cameo. I don't know whether she needs to complicate the story line. Perhaps she could reappear right at the very end as another little comic sequence, being chased around Berlin Benny Hill style, by Wolfgang or something. We'll see.

I think you'd have to be a physics professor to make this work - but don't forget, we have one! Barry, you must lead.

[Florian, Ralf and Billy are in a minivan. The back seats have been removed in order to make room for the Uberblitzigheitsynthesizer-mini and some other antiquated recording equipment. Florian is driving, with Ralf and Billy sitting on cushions in the back, boxed in by large piles of wires and black boxes. Billy is starting solemnly out of the window, frowning at the countryside. Ralf is hard at work fixing things]

Ralf: There, it should finally be operational now.

Florian: Ralf, all of this equipment is weighing us down.

Ralf: That is why I brought the mini. It weighs only 450 kg, almost half that of the standard model!

Florian: Why did you not bring the Uberblitzigheitsynthesizer-ubermini, you know, the one which you modified for transport via bicycle? It weighs a mere 100 kg!

Ralf: Bah, it doesn't have enough memory to store the waveforms we will need on this trip. 64kb will not be enough, but synthesizer gives us 512kb, which is plenty!

Billy: Why must we work? Can we not just drive?

[Ralf and Florian burst out laughing]

Florian: Hahahaha, not work! Yes, very amusing, Mr. Martin. That is the funniest thing you have said in many days.

Ralf: Of course, we must keep our regular working hours, even on the road. We must get this album over with, er, I mean, finished.

[Billy sighs]

Florian: Anyhow, due to all of the weight, the minivan will not travel faster than 90 km/h! They will gain considerable time on us. By my calculations, given their head start plus the difference in the speed of our vehicles, they will reach the Swiss Alps a full three days before we do!

Billy: Their speed? How do you know their speed? And how will we possibly find them once we arrive?

Ralf: Following a recent incident involving your daughter tampering with our equipment, Florian implanted a tracking device in her inner ear. That way, we could constantly keep track of her whereabouts in order to avoid further destruction.

Florian: Yes, we know exactly where to find them. What we lack in speed, we can make up with the element of surprise, since they have no idea that we are following them.

Ralf: OK, Mr. Martin, it's now time to record.

Billy: Must we sing?

Florian: He's right, Ralf, it is 10:30 -- time for our pre-determined coffee break. I will stop the minivan.

Billy: Oh dear.

Chris: Where are we going, honey?

Gwyneth: No talking, dear, just touching.

Chris: Oh boy!

[Dieter and Boris talk between themselves, so that Chris and Gwyneth cannot hear]

Dieter: They suspect nothing.

Boris [staring at blinking light on the dashboard]: Wait, poor Billy Mackenzie's tracking sensor is indicating significant motion. At such speeds, he must be in a moving vehicle. Could they be following us?

Dieter: It can't be!

Boris: Somebody must have warned them that something was amiss. But who?

Dieter: Regardless, it doesn't matter -- we shall rendez-vous with the Yelloball in a couple of hours, and it will transport us instantly to our final destination. Let them drive to Switzerland if they must, they will be several days behind, and even if they do eventually find us, by that time it will be too late!

Boris: Still, I am concerned. Perhaps we should place a call to Herr Flur before we reach the Yelloball.

Dieter: No, we need not disturb Herr Flur at this time. Everything is still well under control. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my thoughts

[Dieter returns to hs thoughts of the upcoming video shoot ...]

(Yes, I know it doesn't take six days to drive from Dusseldorf to the Swiss Alps, even with a minivan that tops out at 90 km/h*. But we need time to let the two branches of the story develop.)

Peaches was just a little cameo. I don't know whether she needs to complicate the story line

She doesn't, as long as we establish a reason for her to be present in the final scene, and tracking down Wolfgang (who will set out after Kraftwerk at some point, likely via a chartered plane) is an acceptable reason. Likewise, I envision one or two more Peron cameos, plus more appearances from Holger Czukay. He should appear in the final scene too, preferably as a Virgin Mary-esque apparition that is visible to the entire group (or maybe some of the group, but not others).

*even if Ralf and Florian drive for exactly eight hours per day, i.e. during their normal daily working hours

Don't worry, I'll correct these little mistakes in the unified edition. With your permission, I could also change the parts where you accidentally refer to Yello as being German ("Deutschland Sucht Den Superstar" = "Schweiz Sucht Den Superstar, or something to that effect).

Dieter: Now then, my good sir and madam, the surprise is not far.

Gwyneth: Oh goodie! I hope it involves ice cream!

Chris: Ice cream? Yay! I love you, baby!

Boris [singing silently to baby Apple with Gwyneth's voice]: Husch little Mädchen, don't say a word, Mutti's gonna by you a mockingbird... [Stops singing.] Such a sweet child! I do hope Dieter has taken account of her in his plan, otherwise...

[The group reaches a haystack on the side of the field. Dieter starts swiping off the hay and reveals the Yellotron, hidden inside the stack. He opens the door.]

Dieter: Now, if you would be kind enough to step inside.

[All four step inside the Yellotron, and Dieter closes the door. Lights begin to flash on its surface. Suddenly, a rugged figure jumps out of the nearby bushes and runs to the Yellotron. The figure grabs its side just before the lights reach their full luminosity. The Yellotron then disappears, taking the shady figure with it, and leaving only a pile of slightly burned hay behind.]

Ralf: There, I believe it is fifteen to eleven, and our established fifteen-minute break is over.

Florian: Yes, you are right. We can now start to record. Are you ready, Mr. Martin?

Billy [to himself]: Oh sweet Lord! I have no idea what to sing, this Martin fellow and his Coolplay weren't around yet when I last walked the planet. Slow as they may be, even Ralf and Florian must realize I'm an impostor once I open my voice. How will I ever get out of this mess? Heavens above, help me!

[Suddenly, a screeching cry is heard from above. It gets louder and louder, as the source of the voice nears the minivan. Ralf looks out of the window. Something is falling out of the skies, right towards the car. As that something gets closer, we see that it is a human figure.]

Ralf: Oh dear...

[With a loud crash the figure lands on top of the car.]

The figure: Ouch!

Okay, I won't change the first part, but I'll find a replacement word for "Teutonic" (I think it isn't suitable, since, later on, Yello refer to Kraftwerk as "Teutonic mayhem".)

Florian: He is starting to get on my nerves, Ralf. Will he ever stop?

Ralf: I admire his energy and his love for the music. He is exactly what we need in order to inject a spark into these recording sessions! Perhaps he will bring some life back to Mr. Martin's face. He has been so melancholy as of late.

Florian: Naturally, he is concerned about his wife and the fruit child. This is a normal reaction. But perhaps you are correct -- his presence may be benefical to the recordings. However, his added weight will decrease our top speed to 87.4 km/h.

Ralf: But I believe the increased quality of the recording sessions will more than make up for the time we lose on the journey.

Florian: Perhaps you are right. Once the album is finished, we will have to figure out what to do with him, but there is still lots of time to think about that.

Ralf: Correct. Come, let us clean up, it is now 12:57 ...

I think we need to get the video shoot off the ground very soon ...

If Yello hire her to work on the video, then Wolfgang will be furious with Yello once he is eventually summoned by Dieter and finds out that they've "stolen" Peaches from under his nose.

Helvetic? Helvetian? Alpine?

Boris [to himself]: Carefully now, Boris, such a delicate creature... Aha!

[Boris pulls a small electronic gadget out of Apple's ear.]

Boris: Did I not say we were being followed? This is the proof!

Dieter: Yes, it must have been those holier-than-thou piston ballerinas who placed the device into the child's ear! Nevertheless, we are still miles ahead of them, and they shall not follow us further than this.

[Boris places the tracking device into a small container surrounded by huge loudspeakers. He pulls a switch. The deep rumble of that famous Yello bass begins to emanate from the speakers. The plugging device trembles and then shatters into thousands of pieces.]

Dieter: Now, we must prepare for the trip to our final destination.

Boris: Yes. By the by, Dieter, you left this at the auto we rented. [Picks up a green scarf.]

Dieter: Boris, that is not mine. Where did you find it from?

Boris: From the trunk. Perhaps it was left the there by the previous rentee?

Dieter: Perhaps. But now that I look at it, it does look familiar... [Strokes his moustache.] Is this not the scarf Jean-Herve was wearing while we met him?

Boris: It is! And that must mean...

Dieter: Jean-Herve, that vile devil! Instead of running away he must have hid inside the automobile trunk!

Boris: He could have heard everything! About our plan, about your villa in the Alps...

Dieter: We must assume he could have.

Boris: Then again, the man is totally and wholesomely cuckoo. What could he do with the information?

Dieter: Cuckoo he may be, but that means he is also unreliable. Were he to meet those dastardly boyscouts of Der Kraftwerk... I think now might be the perfect time to contact Herr Flür.

[Dieter picks up a cellular phone and dials a number.]

Dieter: Wolfgang? It is Dieter. Remember our discussion earlier? It is time we three meet again. Do you possess an autocar? Good.

[Cut to: The same mountain road, somewhat later. Another car is seen driving into the same direction as Boris and Dieter. The driver is Wolfgang Flür. As the second car goes out sight, we see yet another car, apparently following the Wolfgang's car from a distance. This car too has only person in it, but the face of the driver is left into shadow. The third car goes off-screen. The road is silent again.]

[to audience}
I knew he would call. This was completely expected on my part -- insurance policy, ha! Dieter may have believed that he could handle Kraftwerk on his own, but I knew better. Kraftwerk cannot be trusted, only a man such as myself is capable of handling them. I know their thoughts and their fears, for I know them better than they know themselves. Ralf and Florian are like black ice on the roads of the Autobahn. To most people, the road is expansive and inviting, much like the lush cover art on our album of the same name. However, black ice can unravel this drivers utopia in an instant. One minute you are driving, the next, you are slipping off the road and bound for unavoidable carnage. This is what dealing with Kraftwerk is like. Dieter thought his plan was foolproof -- but no! -- the icy hand of Kraftwerk can snatch defeat from victory in an instant.

And how could I resist a trip to the Swiss Alps! There will surely be many Italians where we are staying. I relish every oppurtunity to celebrate my Italian heritage. Italians love to eat, drink, meet women, party, and go to discos. So do I. I have no doubt that this endeavour will be beneficial in stimulating my creativity. Adventure is the greatest source of creativity.

Dieter and Boris treat me so well. Better than Ralf and Florian ever did. A chartered plane to fly me to Zurich! A car waiting for me at the airport, with instructions to meet them in a secret mountain location! My arrangements has been impeccably organized -- this is Swiss efficiency. With Kraftwerk, I spent eight years fixing a synthesizer. They do not know how to work efficiently. Well, I will show them. I don't know what Kraftwerk are planning to do, but it is sure to be dastardly, and I will foil it.

I wonder what Dieter meant when he said that my help would be "rewarded through musical investment"? Perhaps we will collaborate on an album? I wonder who will be there to work on this album? I am feeling considerable inspiration from this drive, perhaps the new Yamo album can have a mountain theme as well as a flower theme?

MOUNTAIN SONG
(lyrics by Wolfgang Flur)

Coming down the mountain ...
Into your waiting arms
How pretty is the snow!
It can do us no harm!

We embrace the mountain
Its snow-capped peaks
Rounded like the perfect breast
Or your rosy cheeks

[continues driving]

[scene: the Kraftwerk minivan. Two days have passed since we last saw them. Peron is driving and is quietly bickering and chatting without himself. Ralf and Florian are amongst the piles of equipment in the back. They are recording Billy's voice.]

Billy (knee-bending falsetto):

Oh, woe!
Woe, oh!
Woe!
My woe!

Woe is
Woe was
Woe will be
All

(stops)

Florian: This is oustanding.

Ralf: Yes, Mr. Martin, excellent work. I am greatly moved by the sadness and emotional vulnerability of your vocal performances as of late.

(Billy sighs and turns his head to stare out the window)

Florian: Assigning the driving duties to Mr. Peron was the turning point in the making of this album.

Ralf: Absolutely. Now we can both work on the recordings full-time. What a fantastic use of our time this is.

Florian: Yes, there are a multitude of musical rewards at play here. I have even sampled Mr. Peron's kazoo playing and random murmuring for use in a sound collage piece on the record!

Ralf: He puts us in touch with our earliest recordings as Kraftwerk, the days when we used flutes and actual percussion instruments. Perhaps we should re-release those first two Kraftwerk albums after all!

Florian: I must admit that I didn't expect him to be such a good driver. He follows instructions very well, we save money on resources since he never eats, and on top of that, our music benefits!

Ralf: He is the perfect employee! (looking outside at the countryside for a moment) I believe I have never been to this part of the country. Perhaps Mr. Peron wants to see the map?

Florian: He doesn't need the map, he is following the tracking light from the sensor I implanted in the fruit child. It is a simple task for him to follow.

Ralf: Yes, of course, if he follows the light then he'll be fine [peers into the front seat and looks at the tracking apparatus installed into the dashboard] ... wait, Florian, the tracking light isn't on!

Florian: Impossible! [sees for himself] Oh no, you're correct, Ralf!

Ralf: This is a nightmare! How long has the light been out?

Florian: I haven't a clue! I haven't even bothered to check it in two days, every since we assigned the driving duties to Mr. Peron! We have been so busy working back here that I didn't even think of it!

Ralf: And yet, he has never complained once. He has been driving, very likely for two days, without any directions. How does he know where he is going?

Florian: I don't know Ralf, I don't know ...

[fades]

-- MindInRewind

The way I see it is, Felicity Publicity persuades Peaches that her rock schtick is all played out, and for her next album she'd be better off collaborating with Yello. She gives them a visit and finds them on the set of the video. She just basically takes charge. Later, she is hired by Kraftwerk It's a further slap in the face for poor Wolfgang.

Ralf and Florian are finishing their roast beef and edamer cheese sandwiches mit Hutzelbrot, along with a thermos of coffee.

brief suggestion for accuracy: i'm under the impression R&F do not consume meats.

i.e., http://veggie.org/veggie/famous.veg.html and a few interviews alluding to this preference.

In an interview, published in today's Sun newspaper, Coldplay's Chris Martin talks about a terrifying plane landing. Martin was on his way to Ghana with Oxfam to publicise fair trade issues, was coming into Tamale Airport when disaster struck. "I couldn’t see the ground and as it turns out, nor could the pilot. I found out we were about 200 metres up. The plane dropped off violently to the right then way over to the left it. It was lurching all over.

There is a Radiohead song called ‘Airbag’ which says that every time you get out of a car you should celebrate that you are alive. I felt that getting off the plane. But it fired me up for the trip. I thought, ‘I’m going to learn as much as I can and meet as many people as possible.’"

The techno community on Little Detroit has found the thread:

http://www.littledetroit.net/forums/viewtopic.php?p=115647#115647

Perhaps some of them will feel inspired to contribute to the script?

I really like this idea because then we'll get to see two drastically different visions of the video -- Yello's and Peaches'. I don't know about Kraftwerk hiring her at the end though ... can't we allow Wolfgang a bit of happiness. He will always revert back to hating Kraftwerk in future stories.

brief suggestion for accuracy: i'm under the impression R&F do not consume meats.

Yes, you're right, and thanks for the link! This can be easily fixed by striking the words "roast beef" from their meal.

I have the feeling that Tuomas has something in mind for the first scene in the Alps, i.e. who will be there in the beginning and how they will convince Gwyneth and Chris to cooperate with them. Once that scene is complete, it's on to the video! Clouds, angels, and floatation tanks! Newer, hallucinatory lyrics! etc.

It seems I took very recently to the idea of just calling him Christ Martin on another thread. Just for flippancy's sake. Perhaps he can star in a rock and roll biblical epic.

Dieter is driving with one hand, sipping a cappucino with the other. Boris is locked in a silent staring contest with Apple. Chris and Gwenyth are now asleep.

Boris: You know, Dieter... I've been thinking...

SUDDENLY a figure appears from nowhere on the road before them wielding a flamethrower, and dissapears behind a blinding torrent of apocalyptic fire. Dieter brings the car to halt, narrowly missing being engulfed. The flames recede, to reveal CARLOS PERON, dressed head to toe in disturbing leather gear: he throws the flamethrower to the ground, and turns his back to them, revealing the words "Erotic Projects" written in studs across the back of his jacket. He turns his head to address them over his shoulder.

Carlos: Dieter... Boris... it has been too long.

Boris (quietly to Dieter): Is that...

Dieter: Claro que si. Carlos! We have been meaning to send you a long overdue royalty check.

Carlos: Oh I will just bet that you have. Don't make me angry, Dieter. I have come here to discuss more solid pleasures.

Dieter: Now may not be the best time for that, Carlos. We are running a tight... professional schedule.

Carlos: But I have come on business. Behold!

Carlos whips out a thirty page contract from beneath his jacket, and turns around to reveal it fully: it glows. Clearly visible is the Mute Records insignia.

Boris (impressed): Hmmm. Unexpected.

Carlos: Although my flourishing, ever expanding solo career is more than enough to content myself with, Hardy has once again expressed his desire that the original Yello reunite for another album on Ralph Records.

Dieter: Ah Carlos. We've long since outgrown that avant stable.

Carlos: THE AUDIENCE has long since forgotten your last chart hit! Renounce your bland euro disco, and let us return to the impossible sounds of our first three albums!

Boris (whispering to Dieter): This may not entirely be a joke... Ralph is already preparing to distribute the Residents' back catalog...

Dieter pauses for a moment. He glimpses in the rear view mirror, and catches view of the front of Wolfgang's car, peeking timidly around a mountain corner.

Dieter: We have much to discuss, it seems. But I repeat.. this is not the time.

Carlos scowls. Then punches a code into his wrist computer, which sounds with the electro bassline from "The Evening's Young". He points the flamethrower at the ground and launches himself into the sky, a pillar of flame extending itself into the night.

OK, what'd I miss?

-----------

[scene: a flat in Berlin. A dishevelled Publicity Felicity is on the phone and appears frustrated. Peaches enters the room, carrying shopping bags bearing the brand name "Kunstleder und Kink"]

Publicity: Where the fuck have you been, Merrill? The phone's been ringing off the fucking hook, you were supposed to be here an hour ago!

Peaches: Relax, I had to wait in line at "Kunstleder und Kink" to be fitted for my new PVC wig.

Publicity: Well pick up the phone quick, your father's on the line.

Peaches: Again? I just spoke to him last night!

Publicity: Take it up with him, babe, he's been talking my ear off for the past fifteen minutes.

[Peaches picks up the phone]

Peaches: Hello?

Rabbi Nisker: Hello bubbele, what's new?

Peaches: Daddy, I just spoke to you 12 hours ago! Nothing is new, I'm fine.

Rabbi Nisker: We were talking about Pesach this morning, your mother and Rose Greenbaum are going shopping for the meat tomorrow. Do you think you'll be home this year?

Peaches: Daddy, I told you last week -- I don't know. I always play a lot of shows that time of year.

Rabbi Nisker: It would nice to have you home. We're having the Kaplans over this year. You know, Sauly Kaplan's son is in the music business, he helped to arrange the Ashkenaz festival last year. Maybe he could arrange to have you play this year?

Peaches. Daddy, I'm not interested in playing the Ashkenaz festival. That's not my scene. I'm playing lots of shows here, I don't have a problem finding places to play.

Rabbi Nisker: Places, feh! What kind of places would let you play with that crazy name? I should live so, I never heard of such a thing.

Peaches: There's nothing wrong with my name, it's just a stage name.

Rabbi Nisker: Why can't you just be Merrill? I don't understand why you can't be Merrill. [in the previous sentence, the sound of a hand slapping a table in time with each word is clearly audible over the line]

Peaches [growing increasingly agitated]: Because I'm Peaches. I choose to be Peaches. That's just the way it is.

Rabbi Nisker: That isn't a name, that's a fruit. Are you a person or are you fruit?

Peaches: Daddy, don't be silly ...

Rabbi Nisker: What kind of Jews have fruit for a name? You can't name me one Jew who has a fruit for a name!

Peaches: Who cares? Who cares!! It's just a name.

Rabbi Nisker: [listening to muffled voices in the background] You know the O'Briens from across the street? Well, they made a trip to Wal-Mart yesterday and your mother asked them to look for your album while they were there. They said they looked everywhere and couldn't find it. The girl working there had never heard of "Father Lover".

Peaches: I don't think Wal-Mart sells my album ... listen Daddy, I really need to go, I'm -- uh -- getting my nails done in an hour.

Rabbi Nisker: OK sweetheart, have fun, we'll speak to you soon.

[hangs up]

Peaches: AAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I can't fucking take this shit anymore! He calls every fucking day! I've got to get away from my father before he drives me crazy!

Publicity: Merrill, he's driving you crazy and to be frank, you're driving me crazy. You know that Flur guy who keeps bugging you about a collaboration? I spoke to his people today, and he's at a recording session in Switzerland now. I'm sending you there. It'll be good to get out of the city for a while, away from your father's constant phone calls. Flur can't be any worse than your father.

Peaches [fed up with everything]: OK, whatever. Sounds good. So they're expecting me?

Publicity: Er, yeah. Sure they are. Um, I'll call you a cab while you pack your things ...

Our Dusseldorf heroes reluctantly begin a musical collaboration with Chris Martin of Coldplay (who was to know that the real life Coldplay would rip off "Computer Love" on one of their new tracks? Not I). Life in the studio soon becomes a living hell for Ralf and Florian, who quickly tire of Martin, his wife Gwyneth, and their baby Apple.

Independently, Yello decide to co-opt Coldplay for themselves, molding them into a boy band that projects the artistic values that they (Yello) hold dear. Once they discover that their arch-enemies Kraftwerk are working with Martin, They concoct a plan to steal Martin for themselves, while replacing him with a doppelganger in the form of the resurrected (and still horribly depressed) Billy Mckenzie.

Their plan succeeds and they make their way to Switzerland, where they plan to film a surreal video for "Yellow" (as revealed via a dream sequence).

Kraftwerk eventually realize that something is up with Yello, and they set out for Switzerland in a van along with all their recording equipment and Billy (who they believe is Chris). Recording on the road proves fruitful for Kraftwerk once they pick up Jean-Herve Peron, who assumes the driving duties. Peron seems to know exactly where he is headed, although the others do not yet understand why.

Yello also enlist the help of Wolfgang Flur, who is still looking to get even with Kraftwerk.

Yello/Chris/Gwyneth/Apple are in Switzerland, and the video shoot will soon begin. Flur is headed there, Peaches is now following Flur, Kraftwerk/Billy/Peron are still a few days behind, in their van ...

However

czukay (in a leather vest): we have zem where we want zem.

off camera female voice: holger, we can't continue like this.

czukay (obviously distracted): vas? (peers out of windows and makes plucking gesture with fingers)

female voice: they'll find out about the robot the minute they try to remove the clothing. the skin texture on the face and hands is good...but the torso is mere latex stretched over tin.

Yeah, I love the fruit child parallel!

[Scene: Dieter, Boris, and are standing in the middle of an enormous hall room. The room is staged to reproduce the dream sequence Dieter envisioned earlier on, and the trio is wearing the costumes from the dream. On a balcony stands the figure of Wolfgang Flür, operating a movie camera. Through a window on the back wall we can see the snow-covered Alps.]

Dieter: It tooks us three days to arrange this setup, but it is worth my every Vistavision dream! My only grievance is that I cannot shoot the film myself, but thankfully Herr Flür has proven to be resourceful cinematographer.

Chris [looking at his clown suite]: Okay, I'm getting some bad vibes from all this. I know there was supposed to be a surprise, but this getting a bit weird. What are we supposed with all this stuff?

Dieter: Mr. Martin, what we are asking you to do is simply to reproduce the vocal parts of your hit single inspired by us, while we're filming a new scenario set around it.

Chris [baffled]: Inspired by you? Listen, I'm still not sure exactly who you are, so how can I...

Dieter: You know the ditty I'm referring to, the one named after us. "Yello".

Chris: "Yellow"?! You want me to reshoot a two year old song?! Why, I wouldn't be a true artist if I were to repeat myself like that. I'm always in search of a new thing, a new muse, a new shooting star. There's no way you can make me...

Dieter [interrupts]: I feared it would come to this. Look, Mr. Martin, it may not be clear to you yet, but there's not the alternative of a refusal. This is why.

[Dieter presses a small electronic gadget in his hand. A video screen opens up on one of the walls. We can see the image of Apple, sleeping in a cradle, inside a room with metallic walls and no other furniture.]

Chris [shocked]: Apple! Baby Apple! You said you'd put her to sleep, somewhere safe...

Dieter: And safe she is! Unless I choose to press this button. [Points at a red button in his gadget.]

Chris: What's that?

Dieter: The room your child inhabits is hermetically sealed. Inside it's walls is located The Three-dimensional Censurround Yello Speaker System, developed by my friend Boris here. [Nods to Boris, who nods back.] Were I to start up the speaker system, it would begin to emanate the famous Yello bass sound, set in such a frequency that it would completely reprogram the brain waves of your precious love-child. As a result, when she'd grow up, you wouldn't even be able to recognize her, as she would become a... [Dramatic pause.]

Chris: Become what?! Say it, you bastard!!

[Dieter whispers something into Chris's ear.]

Chris: NOOOOOO!!! We had such special plans for her... Born of our union, she would become the greatest person on Earth.

Boris [whispers to Dieter]: You are bluffing, my good friend, aren't you? Surely you wouldn't do that to an innocent child?

Dieter [whispers back]: You worry too much. Of course I wouldn't do it. Trust me.

Dieter [to Chris]: So you see, Mr. Martin, you have no alternative but to succumb to our command.

Chris [his spirit broken]: You win, you sick old moustache-men...

Peaches [to herself]: Finally! I think it should work now! [Stops to wipe the sweat off her brow. Suddenly her eyes get all dreamy.] Hmm, the more I listen to the music of this Flür guy, the more I like it. In fact, I think I'm starting to fall in love with him. Maybe this collab isn't such a bad idea after all...

[She tries to start the car engine. At first it just coughs, but eventually she gets it humming.]

Peaches: Success! Wolfgang Flür, you Teutonic dreamboat, here I come!

[The car speeds into the distance.]

Yes. There is plenty of promise in a JP story, but I'm not the person to tell it :)

I will have to read the story over again to refresh all the details. Colin, we need your Big Lebowski-esque surrealistic dream sequences!

[Cut to: inside the Kraftwerk minivan, Jean-Herve Peron is still driving. Ralf, Florian, and Billy sit on the backseat.]

Florian: I have little idea of our current location, but he [points at Jean-Herve] seems to have a concept of where we're going. Maybe he knows more than we do. Intuition tells me...

Ralf [interrupts]: Intuition? Bah! I have never trusted this intuition of yours. In the past it has brought us nothing but complications. A true Sachkenner depends not on such flimflam.

Florian: We can discuss about this later on. Do you see that Swiss peasant idling over there? [Points at the rutabaga farmer.] Maybe he can tell us where this road is leading us.

Ralf: Jean-Herve, stop the automobile!

[The car stops in front of the farmer. Ralf opens the rear window.]

Ralf: Allo, my good Schweizer! Can you tell us, if we were to continue on this road, where would it lead us?

The farmer: This road? No... You don't want to continue on this road. There's nothing for you there. This road leads to... [lowers his voice] the mansion.

Ralf: The mansion? What is that?

The farmer: It is an evil place, up the mountains. No site for such decent-looking Deutschen like you. Wicked things take place around that house!

Florian: What things? Do tell us.

The farmer: Well, for example, one day my son walking a mountain road, and by accident came too near the mansion. Then he heard some noises behind him, and thank Gott im Himmel was quick enough to hide in the bushes before they spotted him!

Ralf: They?

The farmer: They. Along the road came a succession of half-naked men and women, their skin painted purple, all carrying bowls of water with a single goldfish in all of them. My son watched them walk towards the mansion, and then, when they were out sight, ran home as quick as his legs could carry him.

Ralf: Quite interesting.

The farmer: There are many more stories like this. There is the flying man, for example.

Florian: The flying man?

The farmer: Yes. Sometimes, on dark cloudy nights, a moustachioed man comes flying dow the mountains; he often makes several rounds above my village, screaming indescribable words. On his back he has wings dark as ebony, and his eyes burn with red fire.

Ralf: Yes, quite interesting. [To Florian:] Are you thinking of the same thing as I am?

Florian: Der Fledermaus?

Ralf: No, Dummkopf! Dieter! Dieter Maier!

Florian: Ah.

Ralf: Clearly the mansion must belong to Herr Maier. With a few simple tricks, such as a disguised hang-glider and a pair of luminescent goggles, he has managed to trick these superstitious Swissmen, making sure no one comes close his house.

Florian: Yes, I see.

Ralf: So we are on the right path after all. [To Jean-Herve:] Start the car. We'll continue.

[The car engine roars.]

The farmer: Did you not hear what I said? You do not want to go further!

Ralf: I think we will take our chance on your haunted mansion!

[The car speeds away.]

The farmer [yelling at Ralf and Florian, who cannot hear him anymore]: Haunted mansion?! Who said anything about a haunted mansion?! That place is infested with perverts, sex-freaks and, and... performance artists!!

The farmer [to himself]: Damn those Germans! Must have been a regular bunch of perverts themselves...

Gwyneth: I have to say, this isn't exactly the happiest day of my life.

Dieter: I'm sure it isn't, Ms. Paltrow. But think of it like this: an oyster of the sea can take a hundred years to conceive the perfect pearl of wisdom, and often it is the oldest and worldly-wisest of roosters that lays the goldenest of eggs.

Gwyneth: What the hell are you talking about?

Dieter: Think of your child, Ms. Paltrow.

Gwyneth: My child...

[The sound of a bell is heard.]

Boris: The doorbell!

Dieter: How is that possible? We haven't invited any more guests here!

Boris: I'll go and see.

[Boris leaves the room. There's an awkward silence, as Dieter keeps staring at Gwyneth. Boris returns.]

Boris: Uh, there is someone at the door...

Dieter: Impossible! How did he get through my intricate security system?

Boris: It is not a he, rather than a lady. And she is here to see you, Wolfgang.

Wolfgang: Me?

Peaches:

Yes, you, motherfucker!

(She presses a button on her MC 505, and we hear a dry rhythm and bassline. There is also a giant hiss, and also the snares seem to be flamming every eight bars)

Grow some hair down there
Are you a boy or a bear?
I'm a diva with a beaver
And you're fresh out of Shiva
With a beaver fuckin cleaver

(Felicity's phone rings)

Felicity: Hello? Awww Lord Sony! How are you? What? Yes. Yes. OK. Yes I know, I tried to... (dispirited) Yes sir. Yes, I'll tell her. Ok. Ok, bye.

Ralf: Looks like Herr Meier has set up some sort of a protective system to keep off unwanted guests.

Billy: Yes, and it seems to be working quite well. Listen, guys, I appreciate all that you've done for me, but maybe we should just give it up. There's no way we can get inside.

Ralf: Nonsense!

[Ralf picks up a Batmanesque hook pistol from his rucksack and shoots a small hook, followed by a long rope, at the top the wall. The hook sticks.]

Ralf: No laughable Swiss contraptions can stop the true workmanspirit of a German with a mission. Follow me! [Climbs on top of the wall and jumps on the other side.]

Jean-Herve [follows Ralf]: Woo-hee!

Florian [grabs the rope and starts to climb]: Come on, Mr. Martin. [Gives his hand to Billy.] It's you wife and child we're talking about here!

Billy [to himself]: Since we've gotten this far, I guess there's no choice but to follow this tragedy to the bitter end...

[Billy grabs Florian's hand. Together they climb over the wall.]

Ralf: Getting through the backdoor was almost too easy. There has to be some sort of alert system inside the house as well.

Florian: Stop! [They all stop.] Listen! Do you hear a hum...

Ralf [listens]: Yes. It's almost below the human perception level, but I sense it. Could it be...

[Florian opens his rucksack, and picks up an object that appears to be a spotlight. He points the spotlight into the passageway before them, and turns it on. The object emanates no visible light, but suddenly we can see several thin, previously invisible beams of light crossing the passage in different angles.]

Florian: I knew it! Ralf, do you think you can handle it, or...

Ralf: Yes. It is a good thing I have kept this middle-aged body of mine in perfect shape through rigorous exercise and hundreds of hours of bicycling, so it still functions like a well-oiled Mensch-Maschin. I can do it. If you just point the light for me, Florian.

[Ralf reaches for his rucksack, and picks up a can of talcum powder. He removes his shoes and socks, and applies the powder to his hands and feet. He stretches his legs and arms two times. Then he does an amazing series of jumps, cartwheels and somersaults, leaping through the passageway without touching a single beam of light. He ends up on the other side of the beam grid.]

Ralf: I think there is a switch here. [He pushes something on the wall. The beams disappear.] Yes. Come on through.

Dorian: Excellent.

Peaches: You, cameraman! Get me a fucking whiskey and water! What? OK, tell that guys to get it for me. I'm fucking thirsty you assholes!

Makeup! We need more makeup on that blonde bitch in the bikini. I want to brighten her lipstick one shade as well. Where's my drink? Fuck all of you assholes!

[The video shoot has been hastily reassembled creatively. Gwyneth is wearing a green string bikini and a black bridal veil. The words "freak fucker" are scrawled on her stomach in purple lipstick. She is accompanied by a dwarf wearing a pale blue tuxedo, sporting a mohawk that is dyed orange. He is apparently the new groom for the shoot. Chris is standing off to the side, biting his nails and sipping on a glass of water. Dieter and Boris are lurking behind the cameras, stroking their chins]

Boris: I must say, I have great respect for her artistic vision, despite her unorthodox directorial style.

Dieter: Yes. I am finding all of this to be very arousing.

Boris: I thought we were doing fine without her, but she is a difficult person to refuse. Plus, I hate to interfere with creative inspiration that is as fervent as hers.

Dieter: Agreed. Plus, she has a strange hold over Flur. He respects her immensely. This sort of control can only benefit us in the end.

Florian: Ralf?

Ralf: Yes?

Florian: I just realized we haven't seen Jean-Herve ever since we entered this house.

Ralf: Damn, you are right! We put all our attention to passing the security system, we must have forgotten all about him. I hope there aren't any more booby traps around the house for that lunatic to stumble over! We must find Boris and Dieter as quickly as possible.

Florian [stops at a metallic door]: Ralf, look at this!

Ralf: A metallic door with an electronic lock! There must be a something important behind it. We shall investigate this.

Billy: Er, how are you guys going to get through the door?

Florian: Don't worry, Mr. Martin, this is our special field. It is just like performing musical compositions.

Billy: How come?

Ralf & Florian [in unison]: All you need is the right key!

[They both chuckle discreetly.]

[Ralf picks up some complex instuments from his rucksack. Quietly and smoothly, working in complete synchronicity, like two locksmiths walzing, Ralf and Florian pick the lock. Finally, the door opens. Behind it we see the metallic room that holds baby Apple. Apple is asleep in her cradle.]

Florian: Look Mr. Martin, it is your baby daughter!

[Florian picks up Apple. She wakes up, but does not cry.]

Florian: Here you go. [Hands the baby to Billy.]

Billy: Um... How wonderful! Daddy is here, er, Pear. [Apple gives Billy a confused look, but does not react otherwise.]

Ralf: It is good to know that the baby is safe, but we are yet to locate Boris and Dieter, and your wife. If I can see clearly, at the end of this passageway is a massive wooden door. Maybe we will find the answers behind it...

Ralf: Herr Martin, do you really think it is wise to open the door before we...

[The door is now open. Everyone in the hall stops to stare at Ralf, Florian, and Billy. They promptly stare back.]

Florian [to Billy]: Look, Herr Martin, there's your wife!

Chris [steps out of the shadows into everyone's view]: Say what?

Ralf [looks at Chris with a slight amount of distress on his face]: Florian, I think we might have made a miscalculation...

Dieter: Indeed you have! Billy! Bring the child back to us!

Florian [To Billy]: All this time you were... I cannot believe it!

[Billy takes a few tentative steps towards Dieter. Then he stops.]

Billy: No! I won't give the child to you!

Dieter: What?!

Billy: I won't have you playing with human lives for a petty attempt to reconquer the charts!

Dieter: You what...?! What about the tapes, Billy? Have you forgotten about them?

Billy: No, I haven't forgotten about them! For a long time I thought that it mattered, that music mattered. That music was the most important thing in the world, worthy of any sacrifice. But it isn't. These fine men of Kraftwerk have taught me there are more important things in life. Screw the tapes!

[Billy starts to walk back to Ralf and Florian. Suddenly, Dieter makes a swinging move with his hand. A small pistol springs from inside his sleeve to his hand. He grabs a hold of Gwyneth and points the pistol to her head.]

Dieter: Stop right where you are, Billy! Give the child back to us, or her mother will exit the realm of the living.

Chris: Pumpkin pie!

Boris: Dieter, you promised to me...

Dieter [interrupts]: Shut up, Boris! I'm in control of the situation! [To Billy:] All we want to do is finish this video shoot, then everything will be fine again.

Billy: I guess I have no choice...

Dieter: No, you don't. [To Wolfgang]: Wolfgang! Take the child from Billy and bring it to me!

[Wolfgang steps from behind the camera and walks over to Billy. With a resigned look Billy hands the baby to him. He starts to step towards Dieter, but then he suddenly stops.]

Wolfgang: Hold on, why should I abide to you? Now that I have the baby, I have control over Herr Martin and Frau Paltrow. With their assistance, me and Peaches can produce the hit record that has for so long eluded me. I have no need for you two anymore!

[Dieter stares at Wolfgang with a dumbfounded look. Then he pushes Gwyneth aside and grasps Peaches instead, putting the gun on her temple.]

Peaches: Hey!

Dieter: Et tu, Brute! Bring the child to me, or your wench dies!

Peaches: Motherfucker, what did you say?!

Dieter: Shut up!

[Wolfgang looks at Dieter, then lowers his gaze. He slowly walks to Dieter, and hands the child to him. Dieter takes the child, but at the same he has to loosen his grasp on Peaches.]

Peaches [kicks Dieter to his knee]: You motherfucking slimy Kraut bastard!

[Dieter falls down. The pistol drops on the floor. Right before hitting the ground Dieter tries to throw Apple to Boris. The film now goes into slow motion. We see Apple slowly going up to air, not looking scared at all. Everyone in the room, excluding Dieter, runs towards the centre of the hall, trying to catch Apple when she comes down. Back to normal speed: Apple is falling down, but all of a sudden her flight stops. She is levitating in the midair. An enormously bright, green light begins to shine from his eyes. The light fills the whole room with a green haze. Everyone stops on their spot, with a zombie-like gaze on their faces.]

Apple [with a deep, booming voice]: CEASE!!

Apple [with a booming voice]: THIS FARCE HAS BEEN AMUSING, BUT IT NEEDS TO END! NO HARM SHALL COME TO THE CHILD! IT IS ALL OVER NOW! YOU WILL ALL LEAVE THIS PLACE AND RETURN HOME WITHOUT ANY MEMORY OF WHAT HAS TAKEN PLACE HERE.

Everyone [in unison]: Yes.

Apple: BUT BEFORE YOUR MINDS ARE EMPTIED, I HAVE SOME SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS TO EACH ONE OF YOU. THESE INSTRUCTIONS WILL STAY IN YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS EVEN IF EVERYTHING ELSE REGARDING THIS INCIDENT IS LOST. [Turns to Peaches and Wolfgang:] PEACHES AND WOLFGANG!

Peaches and Wolfgang: Yes?

Apple: YOU WILL HAVE A PASSIONATE LOVE AFFAIR AND RELEASE SEVERAL CRITICALLY ACCLAIMED COLLABORATIVE RECORDS. HOWEVER, THE AFFAIR WILL EVENTUALLY END DUE TO DOMESTIC ABUSE. SEVERAL YEARS LATER WOLFGANG WILL COME PUBLIC ON HIS TRAUMA, RELEASING A MILDLY SUCCESSFUL COVER VERSION OF "WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT".

Apple [to Dieter and Boris]: DIETER AND BORIS!

Dieter and Boris: Yes?

Apple: YOU WILL HELP BILLY TO PRODUCE HIS FINAL ALBUM BASED ON THE MASTER TAPES YOU HOLD IN YOUR POSSESSION. THE RECORD WILL REACH THE LOWER TOP 40, PROVIDING YOU WITH NEW PRODUCTION ASSIGNMENTS, THUS FULFILLING YOUR DEEPER SVENGALI DESIRES. YOU WILL THEN GIVE BILLY'S SOUL THE REST IT DESERVES.

[Cut to: The balcony of the hall room. In the shadows of the balcony we notice a shady figure lying on the floor, hiding from the pervasive green light. The camera closes in, and we see that it is Jean-Herve. He is observing the events of the room, apparently unaffected by Apple's hypnotic eyes.]

Apple: CHRIS AND GWYNETH!

Chris and Gwyneth: Yes?

Apple: YOU WILL RAISE ME LIKE ANY LOVING PARENTS SHOULD, SO THAT EVERYTHING WILL BE IN PLACE WHEN THE TIME COMES...

Chris and Martin: Of course!

Apple: RALF AND FLORIAN!

Ralf and Florian: Yes?

Apple: YOU WILL NOT GO BACK TO ANALOG! THAT IS RIDICULOUS!

FIN

[Scene: A recording studio. Jean-Herve and five younger, long-haired musicians are sitting in circle, sharing a spliff between them. Jean-Herve takes the joint and drews on it a couple of times. He then exhales a cloud of weed smoke.]

Jean-Herve: Have I told you boys that the Second Coming of Christ is upon us?

Long-Haired Musician 1: The Second Coming?

Jean-Herve: Yes. Christ has already been born into this plane. I have seen her face...

Long-Haired Musician 2: "Her"? It's a girl? Who is she?

Jean-Herve: What I tell you now must not go beyond these walls! It is Apple Martin, the child of Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow!

Long-Haired Musician 1: The child of Chris Martin and Gwyneth... Er, right. Pass the reefer, won't you?

Maybe I'll now compile the whole screenplay into one piece and post it to ILE or something.

I like how Apple changes genders in the very last frame. Very Hedwig.

You gave us Pan Sonic and Maria Kalaniemi. I forgive you.

screen stays black for two minutes

then slowly fades up on the image of the ruins of an Irish castle on the side of a small cliff overlooking the marsh. "Metal Machine Music" plays quietly in the background, under the sound of wind. the night sky is filled with stars.

cut to: the view from one of the gates. a figure is slowly making his way towards the castle. it is CARLOS PERON. when he finally walks through the gate, his face catches the reflection of a radiant blue light. he turns to face the light and walks towards it.

The camera tracks Carlos POV from over his shoulder as he walks towards the blue light in the direct center of the castle, which is largely clear though overrun with wild grass, and uncovered beneath the sky. there is a figure in the center of the light.

POV shot from over the shoulder of the figure in the center of the blue light as Carlos approaches. He stops about six feet from her, and smiles.

We see the figure: It is MADONNA, dressed as EVITA.

Carlos: Hello.

Madonna instantly opens her mouth and begins to scream in terrible agony. Her body convulses in a parody of her classic dance moves, particularly the "Papa Don't Preach" video, and her head lolls about as if completely free of its spine. Suddenly, her head snaps up to stare at Carlos, her eyes bulging from her sockets. Fangs emerge from the top and bottom of her right eye, which is forcibly sucked back into the head before they close over it: the head of a serpent then emerges from Madonna's eye socket. The serpent regards Carlos for an instant, gives a friendly smile, then flips over the bridge of Madonna's nose to eat its way back into her head through her left eye.

Madonna falls to her knees and gives an upward shriek in a way not entirely unlike the climax of the 'Ray of Light' video, thrusting her arms skyward before Carlos. Suddenly, the serpent emerges from Madonna's mouth, and her body grows still.

Serpent: Hellooooo!

Carlos: A-ha! Hello.

Serpent: I have lost faith in my host, Carlos. And not only my faith -- I have also lost my control. I thank you for releasing me from my spinal prison.

Carlos: How was it that I did that?

Serpent: Why, with that simple peck on her bottom, you silly! No one ever thought to kiss her there before.

Carlos: My dear Kundalini. I did no such thing.

The serpent pauses, smirking. Suddenly the smirk becomes a frown. Then the snake begins to dance, in mortal pain, whipping its host body back and forth in another familiar series of dance moves. Carlos removes a small gun which has the words "MEMORY LASER" written in large block letters down its side, and pulls the trigger. Madonna's body bursts into a disco rainbow explosion, which then beams itself quickly into the Irish night (in a manner directly stolen from the "I'm Alive" dance number in the opening scene of the film "Xanadu"), and in one instant the entire world is collectively relieved of each and every memory of Madonna's existence and music. Bitch can't even sing.

Carlos pauses. The night is once again silent, but for the wind. Carlos puts away his gun.

Carlos: The path is clear, my friends. The rest... is up to you.

Carlos steps away from the center of the castle, once again points his flamethrower at the ground, and rockets away, straight up, into the starry night.

Wow, I never caught this epilogue! Great stuff.

Florian: In Germany, we think it is inappropriate to bestow food names upon our children.
why is it that i can DEFINITELY see florian saying something like this?!?

― Eisbär (llamasfur), Sunday, 16 January 2005 03:25 (fifteen years ago) bookmarkflaglink

Classic. I like to think Florian would approve.