By the way, there really was an E! THS, and Corey's first line is word-for-word *NT* -- Under The Web Board

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Date Posted: 17:03:27 01/01/02 Tue
Author: Sir blah blah blah
Author Host/IP: bpr2-084.ih2000.net / 204.255.129.84
Subject: By the way, there really was an E! THS, and Corey's first line is word-for-word *NT*
In reply to: Sir Mojo Howard Lacaita 's message, "Haimobilia: a work in progress" on 16:59:59 01/01/02 Tue

>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 clich�, 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.

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Replies:

Hmmmm -- JoeFranks, 06:45:05 01/02/02 Wed

Well... -- Sir blah blah blah, 16:18:17 01/02/02 Wed