Lost Cause: More Secrets.

EXT. SKYLINE / ETHER - NIGHT A glimmer of light.Shimmering waves of silver and grey; Suddenly flushed with boredom, I mull over my own subconscious amoral Hemisphere of hemoglobin —A Closer Look. WRITER 1 (O.S.)I TOLD YOU ITS PRONOUNCED TEEEEEMOOOOOO!!!OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN, JIMMY FALLON Well fuck you, I hate you. New Character: Stripper named Mahogany Rayne MAHOGANY RAYNEIT'S BRITNEY, BITCH. WRITER 1 (O.S.)Oh shit, it really is. WRITER 2 (O.S.)I Kno. {enter the multiverse} COSMOOh no. This feels good. WANDAWhat’s wrong?? COSMOI thought we broke up. WANDAWe did technically broke up. COSMOOkay!Okay: WANDAI need a minute. MYSTICMy heart is heavy, My breath is shallow, This six knives which I foreshadowed nineFor still my heart, with that And oath my blood but knowledge forth, For trade and honor!Lies! Beneath your widow’s peak and salted ash, For ice became my fortune; True to mark for once,I hold you son, and then forgotten Slide my own and murky weathered praise within your virgo’s cosmic force, And this became her axe and slaughtered that, Becomes my curse, so bury that below my grave And alter what I knowe’th, for this I mark,My horse and stables to your iodine, Now become I, mine ,Become my mind and carry wayward trips, With such does melt within thy lips and eyes, As mine, my blood, and draining in your corpses, Run from tithered bond is mine, my own, And then became my last; No force of lust or love but life would draw thy blood But then my own as murder with your hands, again my axe, I have, But ask of you one poet.My love. I am betrayed again you half my wit,And thought eith lies as does betray you in my focus; Then, there, whispered ties I bond, And truth my proof with axel in my surface. Wood, and brine, with blood and wine, Did I dear suffer in dine Hollywood with eleganceFor there her feast had flooded with your waiting,And our purpose, Give now, my force, with want denied, And now, my blood, though withered and your foreign, Drift away with where depart your time from our adrift, Her eyes I had becometh. And now, I mark, our eyes and timesNot one, but all our eyes become What mind had ba’erd here truth with time Shall force her waves to change, and then her current. Sift now through these things, And then with leaning eyed did wander I, (Eye) To want and now became her luck, and force of doves, So shoot into the sky with such devout and then encumbered; But O, I am awakened in her arching back and truth with knives does split into my veins!Again I slandered by to find and thine to trust, And thrust with wander in my thighs and without judgement. Then with night did come as I, Not with but far and battered in my warrant; And oh did friends make I with also friends and kinFor there within in discouraged banter, bark embark or banter in my flurries waves of force, and so once dead And I did slumber. Amen —A Time. [the festival project ™] WRITER (O.S.)Ok that’s three times Lorne, what do you want? LORNEWell, I’m a company man. WRITER (O.S.)I don’t know what that means, suits. V.O.Unfortunately, I had a feeling though, since I’d wondered, I’d soon be finding out. INT. WHATEVER. UGH. Ace. The Ace of Spades again. I just— don’t understand. There was a pain and heaviness in my chest, And anytime I looked at it for long enough to feel myself and realize what I was doing, I would begin to panic. What was this anxiety? INT. ROCKEFELLER PLAZA STUDIO 8H. DAY WRITERHey Lorne. LORNEHello. WRITERI heard you had a place… LORNEWhich place? WRITERA place where um..I can—- I can scream? LORNEOh, yes. WRITERYes? LORNEMy “Screaming Place”. WRITEROkay… LORNEI’ll send a car. WRITER…alright. Thanks. [later] WRITERHey dude. What’s up. COLLEAGUENothin—Um, WRITERWhat’s up. COLLEAGUEUm. Lorne let me use his “screaming place” WRITERYeah? Nice. COLLEAGUE—it was nice. WRITERI bet. COLLEAGUEBut now, he keeps asking me do weird favors. WRITERSo do them. COLLEAGUEYeah but— [more seriously, staring him directly in the eyes.] WRITERDo them. “ Enter The Lipowitz, Part I.” ‘The Screaming Place’ INT. LORNE'S OFFICE - 1977 - NIGHT LORNEThe Ace— Again! PAUL SIMONHey Lorne! Whatcha doin’? LORNEPlaying cards! Or I thought I was. PAUL SIMONWhat do you mean? LORNEShuffle those for me. PAUL SIMONWell, alright. LORNEReal good; and I mean it. PAUL SIMONSlow down, fellow! What’s got you all riled up? LORNEA race against time! PAUL SIMONJust shuffle, alright? LORNEGot it. [beat] PAUL SIMONThat should do it. LORNEYou’re an expert marksman, aren’t you? PAUL SIMONWell, I suppose— why? LORNEBecause I might have you take me out and shoot me after this. PAUL SIMONWhy!? LORNEDepends on the card. PAUL SIMONAlright. LORNEAlright. I draw it. PAUL SIMONAlright. LORNEAlright. Now. Throw the deck away. PAUL SIMONThe entire deck?! LORNEYes! PAUL SIMONIt’s a brand new pack of cards! LORNEI know it! I bought them! I bought all nine of them on the desk behind you! [he hadn’t noticed] PAUL SIMONFor what?! LORNENevermind that. lol at Seth Meyers looking like a whole Keebler elf retirement party. Yo tell your friend let his grays grow out. (Psh, Up and downstairs, if you don’t mind.) PAUL SIMONI don’t like you. LORNEI know why, PAUL SIMONYou want me to— LORNEJust— yes! PAUL SIMONWell alright, but I’ve seen Carson do card magic, and I tell you, one bit I don’t like it— LORNEJust toss the cards. PAUL SIMONAlright, alright. [he tosses the deck of cards into the waste basket] PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)So? LORNENow. PAUL SIMONTake this card. LORNEAlright. [he does] PAUL SIMONNow what? LORNENow I’m leaving. PAUL SIMONWhere to? LORNEDepends on the card. PAUL SIMONWhat’dya— LORNEDon’t tell me. Not yet. [he puts on his jacket and leaves] PAUL SIMON(Throwing up his arms) Comedians! JOHNNY CARSON has appeared from out of nowhere, in passing from outside of the office. JOHNNY CARSONMagicians, more like. PAUL SIMONJesus, Goddammnit, Johnny!You scared me! JOHNNY CARSONDid I? PAUL SIMONDon’t creep behind me like that! JOHNNY CARSONLike what? [beat] PAUL SIMONNevermind. Suddenly, the desk on the phone rings. He looks at the phone, then quickly back up— JOHNNY CARSON has vanished. He takes an exasperated sigh. PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)Geez Louise… The phone continues to ring. He answers it. PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)Lorne Michaels Office. LORNEHi. It’s Lorne. PAUL SIMON(With sarcastic sweetness)Oh, Hi, Lorne. LORNEHello: Quick— you’ve got the card? PAUL SIMONOf course. LORNETell me what it is. PAUL SIMONWhat is this about? LORNEI don’t know. PAUL SIMONYou’re getting too old for this. PRESENT/OLD LORNE appears behind 1970’s LORNE, smiling and waving; he looks over his shoulder at his future self. 1970'S LORNEDon’t I know it… PAUL SIMONYou tell me! 1970'S LORNEI can’t tell you much of anything right now, erhm— But do me the favor; which card is it that you have in your hand? He takes another disgruntled sigh. PAUL SIMONIt’s An Ace. Lorne’s bright round eyes stay wide but begin to darken; he peers forward into the crowded city street from the telephone box— A phone booth I know what its called! —Phone booth. He then looks behind him peering frightened over his shoulder; the old man has vanished. WRITERS ROOM (O.S.)Run, Jimmy— Run! 1970'S LORNE—what? Suddenly his voice is low and cold, his eyebrows tilted in with a disastrous confusion. 1970'S LORNE (CONT'D)Ace of what? PAUL SIMONUh– Spades. 1970'S LORNEThanks. PAUL SIMONAlri–[A Third and Final Exasperated Sigh.] He places the card on the desk and leaves the office. Before he can even get a word out, Lorne’s clearly hung up the payphone, slamming it into its receiver with a respectable amount of control–it still rings out with a slight chirp as he turns around, frustrated, facing the city street behind him. It begins to rain. Suddenly, He realizes that where the man was standing just before, behind him but now just a head and a step away from the phone booth, something appears to have been left on the ground. Thunder and lightning strike in the distance, and the wind begins to blow; the sky is suddenly much darker and much greyer. As the rain comes down harder by the second, Lorne pulls his trenchcoat around him tighter and pulls up the collar to try to protect him from the weather–it does no use, but still be forces himself into the walkway just off of the plaza, from where he can see the light in his office go out just in time enough to bend over to the ground and find that what’s appears to have been left on the ground by the old man–which he’d easily identified as himself for a time–is, of course, None other than the card itself. CUT BACK TO INT. LORNE’S OFFICE. 197X ROCKEFELLER PLAZA. The light turns out and the door has been shut behind the last to leave the office for the night.That office, anyway. The Office of The Beloved Lorne Michaels. The Year is 1977. (Or Something Like that) The card which has been left facing upwards at the corner of the desk glows in the darkness if only for a moment before sinking into the dark wood of the fine oak desk, and vanishing entirely. In the pouring rain, Lorne holds the card in his hand, now sort of calm and overcome with enchantment. He hails a taxi in the rain, –which works for him, because he is a wealthy white man. Montage: We see that it has fallen into a dark and moonlit night and though the rain has subsided, Lorne drives his car along a long and wooded route; He is somewhere far, far away now from the city, with the window down and the wind blowing his long brown hair dry. The road winds up a mountain and a he drives the woods and trees and rivers, streams, and even the sky full of stars becomes soon the golden drenched morning of a country mountainside–He continues to drive, and drive, and drive–eventually finally reaching a thick forrest in the wilderness, parking his car, and then walking. He walks, and walks, and walks–and walks, calmly and with refrain, until finally–nothing. Nothing but nature, the trees, the ground, the sky and forrest surrounds him. Finally, he lets out a small sigh and lets his shoulders relax for a brief moment, before just the slightest clenching of his fists gives way to a possible forfeiture of serenity, in fact– Silence. Birds scatter into the skies. A scared deer pounces away and frolics for its life. Somewhere in the distance, a farmer sitting on his porch with his shotgun for no apparent reason is sure he’s just heard something. He can’t be sure. It was faint– but just in case, he cocks his gun and stays on guard. Hm. Lorne, having just let out an unfathomable sound, stands now calmly and quietly alone in the wilderness. He decides he likes this place. It is a very good place. It is a place far away from the city, and the people–The good people, who cannot hear him from here: This place is nowhere, or was–But it’s somewhere now. He thinks he may buy this land, and build something here. Not a house. But a place. Just a place. A place that will be there for when he needs this–Not often, but sometimes. Sometimes. This is The Screaming Pl[ace.] INT. 30 ROCK - CORRIDOR - DAY TINA FEY So YOU Did this? JIMMY FALLON I didn’t do ANYTHING! AMY POEHLER That’s right you didn’t! JIMMY FALLON What? Shut up! TINA AND AMY (In Unison) No, YOU shut up, JImmy! (Also in unison) Jinx! You owe me a soda. TINA Gross. I don’t drink “soda” JIMMY Since when TINA–Anymore. JIMMYAHA! TINA Shut up! This is your fault! JIMMY How is it MY fault?! SMASH CUT TO: INT. BACKSTAGE GREEN ROOM - 1950S - DAY YOUNG JOHNNYIs this your card? JOHNNY CARSONNO. YOUNG JOHNNYDarn it. JOHNNY CARSONJust keep at it, you’ll get it. YOUNG JOHNNYNo i wont. I’ll never be The Great Carsoni! JOHNNY CARSONSure you will! In fact; you’ll be even more than that. You’ll be even greater. YOUNG JOHNNYWhat’s greater than being a magician? [beat] He looks into the bright and sparkling eyes of his young self. JOHNNY CARSONI’m glad you asked. [Meanwhile, the two are being watched by another pair from around the corner MICHAEL CHE and COLIN JOST have arrived only moments ago in the time machine. MICHAEL CHEYo, is that him–?? COLIN JOSTIt is! MICHAEL CHEWith himself!? COLIN JOSTYep! MICHAEL CHETalk about “playing with yourself”! COLIN JOSTEugh! Could you NOT? MICHAEL CHEIt was right there, man! COLIN JOSTUgh, Shut up! Director’s Note: Lol they can fight over whose line is whose OR we’ll shoot it twice for more dimension. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project ™ ] © Copyright The Complex Collective