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FADE IN
On a famous painting of Jesus Christ wearing colourful robes with his left hand holding up an open Bible and his right hand upraised in gesture.
GHOST OF ROD SERLING: (V.O.) In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God, all things were made through him, and without him was not everything made that was not made.
Suddenly the colours of the painting invert, giving it the appearance of a film negative.
GHOST OF ROD SERLING: (V.O.) But we aren't going to talk about that God today, as this tale revolves around a universe created by a completely different God altogether.
A montage of paintings depicting the six Biblical days of creation begins playing across the screen.
GHOST OF ROD SERLING: (V.O.) (cont'd) In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters.
CUT TO
An image of Linda Blair's face from The Exorcist exploding.
FADE TO
The interior of a dim-lit living room. The room -- painted in various shades of brown -- is very spartan, adorned with only a few bits of furniture, a single tall lamp, and a single sepia-toned photograph of Vincent Price upon the wall.
In an uncomfortable-looking chair sits Ainad, a pretty twenty-something redhead with her legs tightly closed together and her hands folded in her lap; with her skirt, apron, and unwholesomely wide smile, Ainad is the picture of the typical 1950's housewife.
AINAD: (singing) Lollipop, lollipop. O lolli, lolli, lolli, lollipop!
Reaching under her skirt, Ainad withdraws a purple popsicle and proceeds to suck on it.
MAN'S VOICE: (O.S.) I hope you've brought enough to share with the rest of the class, young lady!
The door to the living room swings open, and Ainad's husband Arze comes swaggering in; with his suspendors, red flannel shirt, bowler cap, and unwholesomely wide smile, Arze is the picture of the typical 1950's working drunkard.
AINAD: (stuffing the popsicle back under her skirt and jumping to her feet) Ohhh, Arze! My darling, darling, darling, darling husband!
ARZE: (throwing off his cap and embracing Ainad) Ainad! My beautiful bride! I'm glad to be back home! You're looking lovely!
Ainad and Arze begin to dance around the living room floor in a square dance-style circle.
AINAD: I missed you! Did you pick up the cheque?
ARZE: No! My stupid, lazy, jerkass boss didn't pay me!
AINAD: Oh, I don't care as long as you still love me!
ARZE: But at this rate, we can't afford to pee!
AINAD: Not enough to feed me?
HOMER SIMPSON: (O.S.) Exactly.
Arze and Ainad continue to square dance in a circle. Suddenly the door is violently kicked up and a villainous-looking transman in a black suit, black cape, black moustache, black monocle, and black top hat lurks in; this transman is Lord Fawdor.
LORD FAWDOR: Where is the fucking rent? I must have the fucking rent! Fucking pennies, fucking nickels, fucking dimes --
STEVE MARTIN: (O.S.) Four fucking wheels and a seat!
LORD FAWDOR: (cont'd) -- I need it all right fucking nooowww!!!
ARZE: There is no rent!
AINAD: We don't have the rent!
LORD FAWDOR: No fucking rent?!
AINAD & ARZE: No rent!!!
LORD FAWDOR: No rent to-fucking-daaaayyyyy!!!!!
FADE TO
Black.
FADE TO
Ainad, Arze, and Lord Fawdor standing within the mouth of a sinister-looking cave. The crashing of thunder in the sky above mix with the sounds of sexual moans and groans coming from within the cave, arousing them all and causing each of them to have noticable erections.
AINAD: Why are we here?
ARZE: I hope it's for beer!
LORD FAWDOR: (turning to face the married couple) No fucking beer! Just fucking darkness here! Tears, sweat, and blood of fucking deer! There is nothing her but fucking fear!
AINAD: Fear? Here?
ARZE: Mmm ... deer!
Lord Fawdor then leads man and wife into the dark cave, where they emerge inside a dark tunnel with no light to guide them.
VOICE #0: !esrevinu eht fo secnirp eht er'eW
VOICE #1: ... lavivrus rof gnithgiF
VOICE #2: ... gnoleb ew ereH
LORD FAWDOR: (to the Voices) Shut fucking up! Shut fucking up! Demons of the fucking Flup, here don't eat my fucking pup! Do so very later, while I'm drinking from my fucking cup! HA HAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAWWW!!!!!!!
ARZE: He's twisted!
AINAD: Demented!
ARZE: (scrunching up his nose) He sure smells fermented!
A bright light suddenly flashes into existence, and the party of three finds itself among a bunch of nerds with syphilis having an orgy.
LORD FAWDOR: Darkness within fucking me! No fucking sunlight to burn me! Here I stay, so fucking lonely and gay! Come down to my home, where the fucking gnomes roam!
The disease-ridden nerds, noticing the new arrivals for the first time, pull apart. Getting to their sore-covered feet, they begin to lurch towards the three with the thick lenses of their glasses flashing, prominent buck-teeth glistening, and pustule-enveloped members and orifices oozing.
LORD FAWDOR: (stepping aside to allow the nerds at Arze & Ainad) Come fucking down with me, and we'll play Pin the Tail on the Donkey! Here, we use a real fucking donkey!
ARZE: I'm scared!
LORD FAWDOR: You fucking didn't pay the rent, so fucking here's how you repent!
AINAD: (to Arze) Hon?
ARZE: Let's run.
Arze & Ainad turn around and start running back up the way they came, infuriating the nerds and Lord Fawdor both.
LORD FAWDOR: I didn't even give you a fucking glass, and you're already fucking out on your ass? This cannot be fucking so! God as my witness, I'll drag you fucking back here by your toe!
CUT TO
Ainad & Arze running through the dark tunnel. Behind them can be heard the sound of a running motor; Lord Fawdor is pursuing them on a tricycle.
LORD FAWDOR: I will get you fucking!
ARZE: No, you won't!
LORD FAWDOR: Fucking are you sure?
AINAD: He's not sure -- ask our agent.
Arze & Ainad suddenly stop and find they have come to a dead end; somewhere along the way, they made a wrong turn.
ARZE: Ainad?
AINAD: Arze?
ARZE: I found ...
AINAD: ... who you used to be?
ARZE: ... is you.
LORD FAWDOR: (arriving) You made my fucking tricycle get a dent. Now you have to eat fucking cement!
AINAD: (calling out to the darkness around them) Will no one save us?
Clark Kent, disguised as mild-mannered reporter Superman, suddenly leaps out from nowhere.
CLARK KENT: I will save you!
Clark attacks Fawdor, punching him off his tricycle. Lord Fawdor quickly recovers, then kicks the superhero in the balls. The two foes then begin beating the living shit out of one another in earnest.
ARZE: As much as I want to watch the fight between these freaks, here come the geeks.
AINAD: Geeks ...
ARZE: The geeks who will get freaky with us if we stay to geek out on these freaks.
AINAD: True. Let's leave the freaks to beat the geeking freak freak geek geeking freak geek out of these geeks.
Leaving Lord Fawdor and Clark to kill one another, Ainad & Arze leave. As the pair exit the cave, the mountain containing it collapses, burying everything that was inside inside.
FADE TO
Gray.
FADE TO
Arze & Ainad, who enter the living room through the busted-up door. Tired and strained from their encounter, they collapse onto their knees.
AINAD: Hon?
ARZE: Yes, hon?
AINAD: If you don't mind, I'll fix you a cinnamon bun.
Arze: Hon?
AINAD: Yes, hon?
ARZE: I'm allergic to the cinnamon bun.
FADE TO
White.
