<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-916486615957915900</id><updated>2011-08-05T17:03:50.868-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brotherhood of Bastards (A Movie Treatment)</title><subtitle type='html'>LOGLINE: When trouble hits our shores here's how a new generation of American baddasses hits back!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/916486615957915900/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Crenshaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06386418111785850011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-916486615957915900.post-5578639576562788630</id><published>2007-10-22T19:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T10:44:37.321-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ACT 1: OUR STORY BEGINS EVEN THOUGH IT SEEMS LIKE AN END</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;LOGLINE: When trouble hits our shores here's how a new generation of American baddasses hits back!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Act ONE:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It's four past midnight at the state pen.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We see a PREACHER man in a black and white collar reading from an old book with a black cover (note to audience: this is a Bible) and he's saying "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;WARDEN O'MALLEY turns to a guy strapped onto a gurney.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He is named DA'CODY APPOLLONAIRE SHUBAKA and he is seconds away from getting a deadly injection since he is a condemned prisoner sentenced to death by lethal execution.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Do you have any last words?"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;THE WARDEN asks SHUBAKA.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Yeah, make sure you bury me face down so you all can KISS MY ASS when I am dead!"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"May the Lord have mercy on your immortal soul my son," says the PREACHER while WARDEN O'MALLEY just stands there looking all mad like SHUBAKA's words have really hit home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;One GUARD looks in SHUBAKA's cell at his last meal.  "Hey DA'CODY, mind if'n I finish that Dr. Pepper and fried okra?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;SHUBAKA says "Help yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then the EXECUTIONER approaches SHUBAKA with the needle.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Wait a minute," says O'MALLEY to the EXECUTIONER.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He grabs the EXECUTIONER's arm real tight right as SHUBAKA was going to get the shot, one more millimeter and it would be lights out for him.  "You're not Jones.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I thought he was going to stick the needle in this sorry sob."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The EXECUTIONER smirks and says, "Yeah, well, Jones called in sick.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Asked me to fill in for him tonight."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"OK, then," says O'MALLEY.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"Let's get this horseshit over with."  It is like he is impatient and wants to play golf or something, he is always checking his watch and earlier we heard him say, "I've got a tee time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;So the EXECUTIONER jabs SHUBAKA with the needle.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He groans and shakes all over.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Close up of his face as sweat pours off his brow.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;He is clearly going through some super agonizing agony.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Maybe even blood pours out of his mouth.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Anyway, when he is "dead" quote unquote the WARDEN smiles.  He puts a finger against SHUBAKA's throat at the spot where you can feel a pulse in a living person.  Then he signs the official death certificate and pulls a sheet over SHUBAKA.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;"EXECUTIONER I need not remind you if you are a real executioner that it is your job to take this body away."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Then it happens: the EXECUTIONER gives a very sharp, one might almost say military-like salute to the WARDEN.  The WARDEN isn't used to this since he does not run a very tight ship at the pen.  This makes the WARDEN a little bit suspicious, kind of like, "hey, wtf is going on here is this cat for real?"  Sensing something is wrong, The EXECUTIONER snaps out of this soldier mode and simply nods and smirks.  He has an eyepatch over his left (or maybe his right, it depends on the actor) eye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The EXECUTIONER trundles the body down a spotless corridor past rows of cages where human men who are unwanted and unwelcome in society are arrayed.  We see many of them enjoying frozen novelties like Eskimo pies, which are passed out on executions to pacify them.  They are all wearing wife beaters.  In one section where all the Indian (Native American) cons are locked up though an old "warrior" is going through his ghost dance in respect for the life that has been snuffed which culminates when SHUBAKA's "corpse" is loaded into the olive drab hearse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The guy who was going to be killed has been killed.  Case closed . . . or is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;(END OF ACT ONE: IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE LEAVE ME SOME COMMENTS.  I MAY BE REACHED AT acrenshaw.author@gmail.com I ALSO HAVE OTHER MOVIE TREATMENTS)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/916486615957915900-5578639576562788630?l=brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/feeds/5578639576562788630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=916486615957915900&amp;postID=5578639576562788630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/916486615957915900/posts/default/5578639576562788630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/916486615957915900/posts/default/5578639576562788630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/2007/10/act-1-our-story-begins-even-though-it.html' title='ACT 1: OUR STORY BEGINS EVEN THOUGH IT SEEMS LIKE AN END'/><author><name>Crenshaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06386418111785850011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-916486615957915900.post-7126838481499916409</id><published>2007-09-27T12:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T13:04:33.207-04:00</updated><title type='text'>ACT II A NEW BEGINNING WITH A NEW LEASE ON LIFE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;(AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK SO NO COMMENTS BUT I WILL NOT LET THAT STOP ME.  I WILL NEVER GIVE UP.  I GIVE YOU ACT 2)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A subterranean headquarters in a underground cave.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;SHUBAKA is waking up all groggy and there is a crowd of guys around him wearing army outfits and camouflage pants tucked into shiny black boots.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They are all super ripped and holding grenades and machine guns.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Some of them have Uzis. Others have Glocks (9mm).  One guy has a Berreta tactical pump gun, with a synthetic stock, and the whole thing is black so it can be concealed at night. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;SHUBAKA is like, "huh, where the hell am I?  Is this heaven?"  This makes the commando dudes laugh.  "More like hell!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them who the audience recognizes as the EXECUTIONER says, "Relax, you sorry piece of human refuse.  You are not dead we only gave you a powerful tranquilizer so that society &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thinks&lt;/span&gt; you are dead.  Welcome to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S.C.O.R.P.I.O.N.&lt;/span&gt; which stands for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;ecret &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;C&lt;/span&gt;ommando &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;peratives &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;eserved for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;rotection against &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;nfiltration of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;ur &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;ation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;SHUBAKA nods.  "I heard rumors of you before but I thought it was all bullshit made up by the man to keep me down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;"I am COMMANDER GRANITE.  We were all murderers and thieves and gang warlords set up to be executed but because of our, uh, special (ha ha!) experiences and skills in nefarious bullshit the very government that was going to light us up with thousands of volts or deliver the hot shot snatched us up to put us to work protecting the very society that was all set to throw us in the trash can of history.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;We meet the men of S.C.O.R.P.I.O.N.:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;-- A guy who on the outside was a notorious arsonist everyone calls him SPARKY.  He is a fire specialist.  (SOUNDTRACK: Black Crowes HARD TO HANDLE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--One guy was a safecracker named KNUCKLES because he is always cracking his knuckles before cracking a safe and his specialty is lockpicking and shit like that.  Somewhere in the movie he gets to say "I can cut through that titanium lock like it was butter."  (SOUNDTRACK: Steve Miller ABRACADABRA) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;--There is also a master of disguise, a reformed mugger who can beat confessions out of anybody.  All sorts of criminals EXCEPT no child molesters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;SHUBAKA laughs a diabolical laugh.  "The hell with it, man.  I may be a murdering drug dealing rapist pimp serial killer but I ain't stupid!  Like I'm gonna fight for the liberty and freedom of the country that was going to shoot me full of poison in my veins. Sayonara, General Patton, I'm getting the hell out of here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;"There is no way out you idiot, unless you want to be killed.  We have done some surgery on you while you were unconscious and there is now the equivalent of enough TNT that was in the Nagasaki bomb implanted in a chip somewhere in your head.  If you say no to our offer to join SCORPION we have no choice but to blow you to pieces.  The rest of the world thinks you're dead anyway.  You have ten minutes to think it over.  If you say no, we say goodbye to your ass only this time for real, this time!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;The guy hits a button and we some bright red numbers on a timing device start counting down from 10:00.  The commandos leave the room.  SHUBAKA is screaming, "Wait, you can't do this to me, you crazy bastards!"  The giant steel door slams and the silence is like unbelievable.  Then SHUBAKA starts screaming again and maybe even puking he is so scared.  Right before the clock counts down he screams out, "Yes, fine!  I will do it!  I will help protect America!"  So he is saved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/916486615957915900-7126838481499916409?l=brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/feeds/7126838481499916409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=916486615957915900&amp;postID=7126838481499916409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/916486615957915900/posts/default/7126838481499916409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/916486615957915900/posts/default/7126838481499916409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brotherhoodofbastards.blogspot.com/2007/10/act-ii-new-beginning-with-new-lease-on.html' title='ACT II A NEW BEGINNING WITH A NEW LEASE ON LIFE'/><author><name>Crenshaw</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06386418111785850011</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
