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Didn’t they release an alternate version of that shitty Exorcist prequel, one with a somewhat different narrative made by a different director?
A. Her stockings have hoof holes.
B. Lazy alien design, was Lazy
Husezni just breathes life into every thread he posts in.
But of course. How else am I to convert nascent heterosexuals into promiscuous homosexual pedophiles, thus furthering the gay agenda?
'Cause I know how much Frink loves this kinda fan art:
That’s very well drawn.
Yeah, if you happen to like that Jim Lee style. I personally don’t.
Just for clarification, here’s the magazine cover husezni’s bitching about:
More info here:
http://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2017/01/editors-note-gender/
So yeah, just more of husenzi’s bigotry (and probable projection) showing.
All too easy.
I want to hear an angry and/or sad grunge cover of this song.
'Cause I know how much Frink loves this kinda fan art:
Where the heck is he getting that 20 years figure from? We still had our VHS and Laserdisc OT versions of recent vintage back in 1997.
Didn’t the ad campaign for the last VHS / LD release state it would be the last home media release of the original versions?
I don’t believe anyone took that proclamation seriously at the time. Personally, I thought it was just a sales gimmick.
I’m just going to let cognitive dissonance take over and say that he could also be trying to deflect to make the surprise more impactful.
You remind of me, back before TFA’s release, when I wanted to believe that Kylo Ren was gonna be a protagonist who was only being portrayed in the teasers and trailers as a villain for marketing reasons.
I never liked him – it’s impossible for me to like anyone in the upper echelons of the EU hierarchy – but I never disliked him, either.
That has begun to change.
Meh. Batman hasn’t been the same since the fanboys and Nolan got their claws into him.
the whole experience left me with a quite skeptical disposition towards the ridiculous things people will try to believe.
How ironic.
He only ruins these things if you let him.
Hyperbolic statement, was Hyperbolic.
FTFF
Though I know the relevant thread will be deleted forthwith:
FADE IN
On a two-storey house located in a clearing somewhere in the woods.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/KITCHEN – EVENING
Inside the kitchen, the MOTHER – a lean, thirty-something woman with long, red hair – stands over a pink birthday cake with the words “HAPPY 12TH BIRTHDAY” stencilled on the top in bright crimson icing. Taking a match to each of the cake’s twelve candles, she lights them one-by-one, a morose expression marring her pretty features.
CUT TO
A full moon centred in the middle of a pitch black night sky.
PAN DOWN
To focus on the black waters of a dark lake. Beyond the waters of the lake stand a dock and the buildings of a summer camp.
SUPERIMPOSE: “CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – JUNE 13, 1958”
EXT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – CAMPFIRE – EVENING
Outside, the camp’s counselors sit around a roaring campfire, singing “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore” to the strumming of a guitar. CLAUDETTE, the pretty young blonde playing the guitar, smiles lovingly at BARRY, who sits across from her. Meeting her gaze, he smiles right back.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/DINING ROOM – EVENING
With cake in hand, the Mother enters the dining room, singing “Happy Birthday” in a low, melancholy tone as she crosses over to the dining table, which sits completely empty.
EXT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – CAMPFIRE – EVENING
As the song comes to a close, Claudette unslings her guitar and hands it to another counselor. Standing up, she and Barry leave as the others start singing another tune.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – UNDERWATER
Deep beneath the waters of Crystal Lake, a pair of closed eyes open, affording us a view of moonlight distorted through murky black water. Ever slowly, the PROWLER begins making its ascent to the surface.
INT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – LOFT – EVENING
Entering a derelict loft, Barry and Claudette scurry inside, closing the door behind them. As Barry reaches out to her, kissing her, she lays a single finger on his lips, stilling him.
CLAUDETTE: (grins) Does Chloe kiss as good as I do?
BARRY: (smiles) I wouldn’t know.
CLAUDETTE: No, of course you don’t.
Laughing, Claudette breaks away from him. As she climbs a flight of steps to the top of the loft, he eagrely follows along after her, a broad grin breaking out over his face.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/DINING ROOM – EVENING
Taking a pie cutter, the Mother cuts a slice out of the cake. Taking care not to let it slip, she transfers it over to an empty plate. The chair behind the plate remains unoccupied.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – CRYSTAL LAKE
Emerging from the depths of the lake, the Prowler begins moving toward the camping ground sitting on the shore in the distance.
INT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – LOFT – EVENING
Lying down together on the wooden floorboards, Claudette and Barry begin making out, clawing at one another in a desperate bid to remove each others’ clothes.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – SHORE
Leaving the water, the Prowler makes its way along the shore to the camping grounds. It spots the counselors singing around the fire, then turning away from them, its gaze zeroes in on the loft.
INT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – LOFT – EVENING
Their shirts unbuttoned. Billy and Claudette continue making out on the floor.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – LOFT
Opening the loft door, the Prowler sneaks inside. Hearing the moaning and groaning of Claudette and Barry, it begins walking toward the stairs to the top. As it passes by a machete hanging on the wall, it reaches out – its child-sized hand hideously bloated and covered in black slime – and pulls the tool from its resting place.
INT. CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE – LOFT – EVENING
Hearing a sound, Claudette stops their burgeoning lovemaking. Sitting up, she hurriedly begins buttoning her shirt closed.
BARRY: (annoyed) What are you stopping for?
CLAUDETTE: (alarmed) Someone’s there, Barry.
BARRY: (sighs) C’mon, Claudette! I’m not made of stone!
CLAUDETTE: Let’s go back, Barry.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – LOFT
Climbing the stairs, the Prowler comes to the top. Seeing Claudette and Barry there, it slowly walks toward them. Noticing that someone has arrived, Barry stops pressuring Claudette to carry on and they both hurry to stand up.
BARRY: (takes step towards Prowler) We weren’t doing anything. We were just –
As Barry finally sees the Prowler clearly, he stops in mid-sentence.
BARRY: (frowns) What --?
Before Barry can complete his thought, the Prowler lunges forward, burying the blade of the machete deep in his gut. As the Prowler pulls the machete out, allowing bright red blood to spurt from Barry’s open wound, Claudette SCREAMS.
As Barry collapses to his knees, grasping at his heavily bleeding wound, the Prowler turns its attention to Claudette. Screaming, she runs to the back of the loft, hurling various objects at the Prowler as it draws near, but she can do nothing as it brings the machete to bear, the blood on the blade glistening in the scant light.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/DINING ROOM – EVENING
Some time has passed, and the twelve candles on the cake have burned low, covering the top in a spider’s web of white-and-green wax.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/LIVING ROOM – EVENING
Sitting in an armchair, the Mother looks out a window at the bright white moon outside. Silently she weeps, tears running down her cheeks.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – FOREST
The Prowler now makes its way through the woods, pushing past trees and branches and shrubs toward its ultimate destination.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/LIVING ROOM – EVENING
Rising from her chair, the Mother walks to the window. Looking up at the moon, she clasps her hands together and closes her eyes tightly, beginning a silent prayer.
PROWLER’S P.O.V. – MOTHER’S HOUSE
Emerging from the deep forest into a clearing, the Prowler finds the Mother’s house waiting for it. Wasting no time, it walks to the house, right up to the front door.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/LIVING ROOM – EVENING
The Mother’s prayer is interrupted at the sound of the front door slamming open.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/DINING ROOM – EVENING
A strong breeze blows in through the open door and enters the living room, where it blows the candles on the cake right out.
INT. MOTHER’S HOUSE/ENTRANCE HALL – EVENING
Leaving the living room, the Mother slowly, cautiously, makes her way to the open front door. When she finally reaches it, she finds a bloated, four-foot-tall silhouette standing there. Freezing in terror, she watches as it steps inside and brings forth its arms. In its bloated, slimy hands, held by the hair, are the severed heads of Barry and Claudette.
PROWLER: MAAHHHHEEEE….
The Mother finally opens her mouth, releasing a bloodcurdling SHRIEK.
FADE OUT
TITLE: FRIDAY THE 13TH
FADE IN
The town of Crystal Lake, bright under the late morning sun.
SUPERIMPOSE: “WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11, 1980”
EXT. CRYSTAL LAKE – MAIN STREET – DAY
Nineteen-year-old ALICE HARDY walks down the street, a large backpack slung over her shoulders. Though quite an attractive young woman – with short red hair, a peaches-and-cream complexion, and bright blue eyes which would leave many a woman envious – a morose expression mars her pretty features.
INT. DINER – DAY
Alice enters a diner. At the counter sit SEVEN CUSTOMERS – four men and three women – one of whom has struck up a conversation with the waitress, TRUDY. Behind Trudy, the COOK works the grill.
CUSTOMER #1: I’m sick of them repeats.
TRUDY: I musta seen that Kojak eighty-two times.
ALICE: Excuse me.
The diner residents finally take notice of the girl standing there.
ALICE: (cont’d) How far is Camp Crystal Lake?
CUSTOMER #2: Camp Blood?
CUSTOMER #1: They’re opening up that place again?
CUSTOMER #3: Lots o’ luck.
TRUDY: What is it, Pam? ‘Bout 20 miles?
CUSTOMER #4: About that.
ALICE: Can I get a bus or something?
CUSTOMER #4: (smiles sympathetically) Not likely.
TRUDY: Pam, you goin’ out to the crossroads?
The female customer nods.
TRUDY: (cont’d) Give her a lift? That’s half way.
Pam thinks it over, appearing to have some reservations about giving the girl a ride.
CUSTOMER #4: Alright. (stands up; to Alice) Coming, dear?
Alice leaves with this good Samaritan.
TRUDY: I wouldn’t send my kids to that camp for all the tea in China.
CUSTOMER #3: I thought you hated your kids.
EXT. CRYSTAL LAKE – DINER – PARKING LOT – DAY
As the two women cross the parking lot, Alice gives her benefactor a once-over. In her fifties, she is a stocky, handsome woman. Like Alice she has red hair, only curlier and worn much shorter.
ALICE: Name’s Alice.
CUSTOMER #4: (grins) I’m Pamela. Pamela Voorhees.
As the two women approach Pamela’s vehicle – an army green Jeep – CRAZY RALPH leaps out from around front.
CRAZY RALPH: Goin’ to Camp Blood, ain’t ya?
PAMELA (CUSTOMER #4): (startled) Land sakes, Ralph!
Ralph, a rail-thin old man attired in a beat-up old hat and brown vest, stares at Alice with wild eyes, ignoring Pamela completely.
CRAZY RALPH: You’ll never come back again!
PAMELA: (nonplussed) Get out of here, Ralph. Leave people alone.
Pamela and Alice climb inside the Jeep. As they pull out, Ralph follows them a little ways.
CRAZY RALPH: It’s got a death curse!
INT. JEEP/CAB – DAY – TRAVELLING
PAMELA: Did your boss tell you anything?
ALICE: I’ll be cooking for fifty kids and ten staff. The campers will be mostly inner city children.
PAMELA: I mean about what happened.
ALICE: (frowns) No.
Pamela shakes her head.
ALICE: C’mon, there’s something you’re not telling me.
PAMELA: Quit. Quit now.
ALICE: Quit? Why would I want to quit?
PAMELA: Camp Crystal Lake is an unholy place.
ALICE: (rolls eyes) Not you too. You sound like your crazy friend back there, Ralph.
PAMELA: Did Steve tell you about the boy who drowned in ‘57? The two counselors murdered in ‘58? The fires? Nobody knows who was behind any of them. In 1962, they were going to reopen; the water went bad. (beat) Steve has been up there a year now, getting the camp in order. He must’ve invested $25,000 into the place, and for what? He will end up just like his parents: without a dime to his name. (shakes head) Ask anyone. Quit.
ALICE: (sighs) I can’t.
Pamela gets ready to deliver a retort, but finds Alice now staring straight ahead, lost in her own thoughts, the morose look back on her face. Pamela instead shakes her head a third time.
Twice now I’ve typed up a most detailed explanation behind the genesis of this screenplay, and twice now I’ve accidentally closed the tab due to the shitty layout of my laptop, losing everything I typed up. Perhaps the third time would be the charm, but frankly I’m getting tired of typing this all out, so I’ll just say everything which needs to be said in a short, succinct paragraph:
I was a big fan of the Friday the 13th films when I was a kid, but now as an adult, I think they largely suck. In spite of that, I still like elements from those movies, so I’ve started writing my own F13 reboot which takes those good elements and infuses them with some actual substance.
In the post below is what I’ve typed up so far. It isn’t much, but I don’t think it will take all that long typing the rest of the screenplay out. I’m essentially gonna stick to the original film’s plot, just adding more backstory to Alice’s character, more psychological/supernatural horror, and more Jason to the mix.
I really should learn to finish one screenplay before starting on another. I know I’m no good at juggling.
Perhaps he drives a really small car. . . .
But we all know it wouldn’t work.
Yeah. Red Zone Cuba left me suffering Bay of Pigs flashbacks, which should be impossible considering my age.
^This post needs a midquel.
I’m not sure what you’re referencing but it’s certainly not what I’m referencing.
You were referencing Aliens. I was referencing my own incomprehensible thought patterns.