VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1 ]


[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 16:59:59 01/01/02 Tue
Author: Sir Mojo Howard Lacaita
Author Host/IP: bpr2-084.ih2000.net / 204.255.129.84
Subject: Haimobilia: a work in progress

This is all I have so far. Once I finish it, I'm gonna go back through it and spiffy it up, make it more fluid, and give it life.

HAIMOBILIA

Open


INT. JACKSON WARD’S HOUSE-LIVING ROOM-3 A.M.


Jackson Ward’s home is cluttered with piles of newspapers. There is aluminum foil covering his windows, and his Lay-Z-Boy recliner is wrapped in Bubble Wrap.

Jackson sits in his chair, his eyes glazed over, his fingertips tapping his bottom lip as he watches the E! True Hollywood Story of 80s teen icon Corey Haim.

He is entranced by the story of Corey’s struggle with drug abuse, and has an epiphany when he learns of Corey’s “anger art”, a pedestrian composition of splashed paint, and a background color that fails to create any color climate.

NARRATOR
There are people in this world that inspire greatness. Mona Lisa, Jesus, Buddha…and Corey Haim will inspire Jackson Ward.

HAIM
(on screen)
“..That’s what this is, it’s like ‘Corey Haim Anger Art..”

He gets a gleam in his eyes.

JACKSON
Anger art. Anger art. Anger art. I must have anger art.

NARRATOR
Did I mention that Jackson Ward is Schizophrenic?

CUT TO:


INT. JACKSON WARD’S HOUSE-DEN-4:14 A.M.


Jackson sits at a table. Across from him is a blender, to his left is a stuffed cat, and to his right is a blow-up doll. In front of him is a map of the United States.

JACKSON
(To all)
Okay, here’s the plan: we live here,

He points to Minnesota.

And here’s where Corey lives.

He points to California.

The plan is to drive to California, buying as many drugs as possible along the way, and once we get to Corey’s house, we get him addicted again so he’ll become so desperate for money, he’ll sell me his anger art…cheap! Now, let’s go get some anger art!

VOICE COMING FROM THE STUFFED CAT
And don’t forget the drugs.

JACKSON
Oh yeah, and the drugs…which means we’ll need money.

CUT TO:


EXT. JACKSON’S BACKYARD-4:45 A.M.


Jackson has several holes dug up in his yard. Next to him are several jars filled with cash and coins. He pulls out the final jar and holds it victoriously above his head.

JACKSON
COREY HAIM HERE WE COME!!!

EXT. ROAD-5:53 A.M.

Jackson is driving down the road in his car. He’s head-banging as he listens to NPR. In the passenger seat is the stuffed cat, in the back seat is the blow-up doll with it’s seat belt on, and in it’s lap is the blender.

NPR RADIO HOST
It’s 7:30 a.m. and this is NPR. In news today, the president signed a treaty with Iran agreeing to cease fire…

It fades in the background as he focuses on someone in the middle of the road. It’s Jack Lurlane, famed infomercial salesman and certified lunatic. Jackson stops the car.

Jack Lurlane is standing in the middle of the road, a desk in front of him with his Juice-O-Matic, a bunch of fruit, and a glass of a glowing red juice. Jack lifts up the glass and drinks it down.

JACK
Drink it into your bloodstream. Bingo. Now. This juice will give you powers that will help you on your journey. I can already feel my cells growing and forming a hard, impenetrable shell around them. I cannot be harmed by flames, and I can finish wood with my bare hands.

He places his hands on the desk and rubs it. The wood shines and becomes smooth as he finishes it.

Jackson’s eyes widen. Then he glares at him.

JACKSON
You juiced your last grapefruit, old man. I’m taking you down!

He slams on the gas and barrels towards the old coot. He smashes through the desk, and the old man goes flying over the roof of his car as he continues down the freeway.

Meanwhile, in California…


INT. COREY HAIM’S APARTMENT


Corey is sitting in his living room, talking to a UPS delivery man. Next to him, one of his “anger art” paintings leans against his chair.


COREY
C’mon. It’s free. No charge. I’ll even autograph it for you. We can go load it in your truck.

DELIVERY MAN
No thanks. I just came here to deliver your…uhm…videos.

He looks at the stack of Corey Haim movies he ordered. There’s Lucas, Silver Bullet, Just One of the Girls, Demolition High, Fever Lake, and Fast Getaway. He looks over to Corey’s closet and sees several more of his movies, including some of the same movies he delivered, falling out. Apparently, Corey orders his own movies and tries to sell his paintings to the delivery men.

(cont’d)
Besides, I don’t have any room in the truck, it’s filled with packages.

COREY
We can put it in the passenger side.

DELIVERY MAN
Uh…no. I have some…bags in the passenger side.

COREY
No you don’t. I saw your truck. There’s plenty of room.

DELIVER MAN
No there’s not.

COREY
Well I can bring it to your house.

DELIVERY MAN
No…I won’t be going back to my house for a week, and I wouldn’t want you to wait there.

COREY
It’s okay, I don’t mind.

DELIVERY MAN
I really have to go. Bye.

He gets up and rushes out of the apartment. Corey tries to stop him, but he keeps going until he gets to his truck and drives off.


INT. BURGER KING-AFTERNOON


Jackson sits quietly eating a Whopper.

CUT TO:


EXT. BACK ALLEY


Jackson is buying some cocaine and pot from a drug dealer.


EXT. CAR-MINUTES LATER


Jackson reaches through his back seat window and puts the drugs in a garbage bag. He gets into the car and continues his journey.


INT. CAR-EVEN MORE MINUTES LATER


JACKSON
(singing)
Gonna get Corey Haim addicted to drugs
Gonna make him desperate to get money for drugs.
Gonna buy his anger art for 7 bucks
Gonna protect me from government bugs.
No one can stop me now. No one can stop me now.

Jackson stops singing. He looks ahead in the road and sees washed-up actor Dustin Diamond on the side of the road holding a sign that says “Will give head for ride”. He swerves a little to the right and clips Dustin with his passenger-side mirror.

JACKSON
Bitch.


INT. COREY HAIM’S APARTMENT-KITCHEN-DUSK


Corey sits at his kitchen table eating Chef Boyardee Ravioli out of the can while he watches Saved by the Bell on TBS.

Something wacky and unsuspected happens and Screech makes his trademark smirk. Corey throws his fork at the television set.

COREY
Bitch.


INT. JACKSON’S CAR-NIGHT


Jackson and his companions are singing My Adidas by Run DMC along with the radio.

JACKSON
My Adidas
walk through concert doors
and roamed all over coliseum floors
I stepped on stage at live aid
all the people gave and the poor got paid
and out of speakers I did speak
I wore my sneakers but I'm not a sneak
My Adidas cuts the sand of a foreign land
with mic in hand I cold took command
my Adidas and me both askin P
we make a mean team my Adidas and me
we get around together, together forever
and we won't be mad when worn in bad weather
My Adidas..
My Adidas..
My Adidas

VOICE FROM STUFFED CAT
standin on 2 Fifth St.
funky fresh and yes cold on my feet
with no shoe strings in em, I did not win em
I bought em off the Ave with the ??
I like to sport em that's why I bought em
a sucker tried to steal em so I caught em and I fought em
and I walk down the street and I rock to the beat
with Lee on my legs and Adidas on my feet
and now I just standin here shooting the gif'
me and D and my Adidas standing on 2 Fifth
My Adidas..
My Adidas..

VOICE FROM BLOW-UP DOLL
Now
me and my Adidas do the illest things
we like to stomp out pimps with diamond rings
we slay all suckers who perpetrate
and lay down law from state to state
we travel on gravel, dirt road or street
I wear my Adidas when I rock the beat
on stage front page every show I go
it's Adidas on my feet high top or low
My Adidas..
My Adidas..

VOICE FROM BLENDER
Now the Adidas I possess for one man is rare
myself homeboy got 50 pair
got blue and black cause I likes to chill
and yellow and green when it's time to get ill
got a pair that I wear when I'm playin ball
with the heal inside make me 10 feet tall
my Adidas only bring good news
and they are not used as selling shoes
they're black and white, white with black stripe
the ones I like to wear when I rock the mic
on the strength of our famous university
we took the beat from the street and put it on TV
my Adidas are seen on the movie screen
Hollywood knows we're good if you know what I mean
we started in the alley, now we chill in Cali
and I won't trade my Adidas for a ??
My Adidas..


INT. COREY HAIM’S APARTMENT-LIVING ROOM


Corey has the phone book opened up and is dialing a number out of it.

The person answers their phone.


PERSON
(V/O)
Hello?

COREY
Hi, this is Corey Haim. You might remember me from such films as Dream a Little Dream, Dream a Little Dream 2, or License to Drive.

PERSON
(V/O)
Oh, Corey, you were great in Goonies.

COREY
No, I’m Corey Haim, that was Corey Feldman. I was in Lost Boys. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted me to come over for dinner? Free of charge. I’ll even autograph some stuff for your kids, if they want.

PERSON
(V/O)
You’ll come over and cook dinner for free? Sure, I couldn’t pass something like that up.

COREY
No, I’ll…uhm…yeah, I’ll come over and cook dinner for free. I have your address, how does 8 o’ clock sound?

PERSON
(V/O)
Okay. Come on over.

Corey hangs up the phone and shrugs.

COREY
A free meal’s a free meal.


EXT. STREET CORNER-NIGHT


A street lamp shines on Jackson and someone he is attempting to buy some drugs from. The man is eager to help him out.

JACKSON
Hey. Do you have any pain killers? You know, something that might cause someone trying to recover from a drug addiction get addicted again?

MAN
You want to buy drugs from me?

JACKSON
Yes. How much, and what do you have?

MAN
I have a one-way ticket to jail for you for 6 months to two years for trying to purchase an illegal substance.

The man flips out a badge and slaps cuffs on Jackson’s wrists.

JACKSON
Shit.

COP
You have the right to remain silent. If you refuse this right, anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney…

His voice fades in the background as Jackson is escorted to a nearby police car.

CUT TO:


INT. JAIL CELL


The bars slam close and Jackson sits in the corner. The guard smirks.

GUARD
Welcome to your home for the next 18 months.

Jackson ignores him and mutters to himself.


JACKSON
Anger art. Must get anger art. Must get Corey Haim anger art. I must get Corey Haim anger art.


INT. PRISON-NIGHT


GUARD
Lights out. Sleep tight, ladies.

JACKSON
I must travel to Los Angeles, get Corey Haim addicted to drugs, make him desperate to do anything for money, and buy his anger art from him for the change left in my pockets.


INT. PRISON-18 MONTHS LATER


The guard unlocks the door and opens Jackson’s cell.

GUARD
You’re a free man. Now get the hell out of here.

Jackson walks out of his cell, muttering to himself.

JACKSON
I’m going to spend all of my life savings on drugs so that I can ruin Corey Haim’s life and make him so desperate to make money and support his drug habit that he’ll sell me his anger art for the lint dust I have in my pockets, and the pennies on my loafers.

He stops muttering and turns to the guard.

JACKSON
You’re just a walking cliché, aren’t you?

GUARD
You’re lucky I can’t still beat the ever-living shit out of you. Now get out of my sight.

NARRATOR
Now, 6 months and one year is a long time to be away. A lot can happen. For example, a once washed-up, drug-addicted actor named Corey Haim could get the role of a lifetime, thus reviving his career, and make enough friends in high places to convince a few art critics that his anger art had some merit. No longer struggling, and making wiser choices when it came to acting roles, he got back on his feet. That’s right, a year-and-a-half ago people would have thought Jackson to be a crazy man for thinking he needed to make Corey desperate for money to take almost any offer given to him for his anger art, but now that he’s successful again, Jackson’s plan isn’t so crazy. He continues where he left off, making his way to California from his
current location in New Mexico.


EXT. ART MUSEUM-DUSK


There’s a banner announcing an opening for “The Lost Boy: Corey Haim’s Anger Art”


INT. ART MUSEUM


Corey is schmoozing with the guests, smiling, and making wild hand gestures. Behind him is a large curtain covering the back wall. In front of it is a podium and mic.

A man walks up to Corey and whispers in his ear. He follows him up to the podium.

MAN
Well. We’re all here to see the same thing, so, without further ado, the man, the artist, the genius behind “I’m not Corey Feldman” and “I Hate you, Mom”, Corey Haim.

COREY
Thank you, Don. Well, it’s been a long struggle to make it where Corey Haim is today. Corey Haim had to survive a family that was falling apart, a lifelong battle with drug addiction, and a series of bad career moves. Throughout it all, Corey Haim’s art has been there for him. It’s been a medium through which Corey Haim can unleash his aggression and frustration. Tonight, Corey Haim is here to present his latest paintings that came from the disappointment of being passed up for an Academy Award…again.

He pulls on a velvet rope and the curtain falls. Behind him, hanging on the back wall, are six mediocre paintings of dull, muddy backgrounds mixed with random, white and pale blue blotches and drips.

The crowd murmurs, and we see many make gestures as they wax intellectual about the paintings’ depth and verocity. If we could hear them, they would be bleating like the sheep they are.


INT. CAR-NIGHT


Jackson is driving down the road; his stuffed cat is in the passenger seat, the blow-up doll is in the back seat, and the blender is in it’s lap.

VOICE FROM THE STUFFED CAT
Long time, no see.

VOICE FROM THE BLENDER
Where have you been for the past 18 months?

JACKSON
Jail. Now, let’s go get some drugs.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]


Replies:



Post a message:
This forum requires an account to post.
[ Create Account ]
[ Login ]
[ Contact Forum Admin ]


Forum timezone: GMT+10
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.