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

"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.

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.