MUSIC: Ominous
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. GLOBO-CHEM - CONFERENCE ROOM
A modern, charmless high-tech conference room. We’ll return here so often, let’s take a second to describe it. It’s got a big conference table in the center; it’s a dark room with only one or two tiny windows that let out to a roof courtyard. There is a small bank of VIDEO MONITORS and CLOCKS set to times around the world. MR. HARTNUT is meeting with FOUR YOUNG EXECUTIVES: CHET, JANE, TODD, and RON.
MR. HARTNUT
What do you got for me?
JANE
Well, the elections are fast approaching, sir. Here’s a recap…
Jane presses a button and the lights go down. A video monitor comes on with the following commercial…
FADE TO BLACK.
UP ON: TV COMMERCIAL
A TV commercial using news footage of two candidates for president. The candidates are DON and DAN, they are nearly identical, forty-five-year-old white men.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
America has an important choice to make in this fall’s presidential election. A choice that demands facts, not propaganda.
As the announcer lists each new “fact,” we see the words come up in GRAPHIC on the bottom third of the screen. There are mild differences between the two men, but each time a difference comes up, it is highlighted. (Underlined here.)
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Democratic candidate Don McGuthers was an astronaut and walked on the moon. Republican Dan McGuffree was an astronaut who walked on the moon and rode in a moon buggy. Democrat Don has been married for seventeen years and has three children. Republican Dan has been married for seventeen years and has four children. Democrat Don has been a Congressman for thirteen years. Republican Dan has been a congressman for fifteen years. America, the choice is clear: Republican Dan McGuffree for president, because experience really does matter.
SUPER: “EXPERIENCE REALLY DOES MATTER”
WE PULL OUT FROM A TV SCREEN BACK TO THE ROOM…
JANE
While we’d slightly prefer McGuffree, because of his horse farm, neither candidate has a definable ethos, both have enthusiastically cooperated with the corporate community in the past and would be happy to have our support.
CHET
So, who’s in the lead?
JANE
It’s fifty-fifty. Anything can happen.
TODD
Well then we better back both of them, just to be sure.
CHET
Sure, then we can go halvsies with other companies.
RON
Halvsies is great. We won’t have carte blanche, but…
CHET
Do we even need a president? We’ve got sixty-two senators and representatives comin’ out the ying-yang.
HARTNUT
It’s not good enough. Not for this.
JANE
If I may ask, sir, for what?
Hartnut hesitates… this is a big reveal, then—
HARTNUT
Operation Green Meadow.
Quiet gasps as we see this gets everyone’s rapt attention.
JANE
(somber)
So it’s real.
HARTNUT
Very. My great-grandfather came to America with nothing but a nickel in his pocket, a million dollars in the bank, and a dream: to sell Indians the land they lived on. Well I’m dreaming, too. I dream of a better world for better people. And I don’t want anybody to veto my dream. By God, I’m going to do something I should have done when I was a kid. I’m going to make my own president.
Hartnut speaks into his intercom.
HARTNUT (CONT’D)
(to intercom)
Dini, get me Chance Nightly!
GO TO SPLIT SCREEN
On one side is HARTNUT and the EXECS, the other is Bob as CHANCE NIGHTLY, a James Carville type, but a little flashier. He is sitting on the porch of a shack in the bayou.
SPLIT SCREEN W/EXT. SHACK IN THE BAYOU
CHANCE
What all can I do for you?
HARTNUT
Make me a president.
CHANCE
Well, now I’m ’bout out of that business, you know. Tired of all the kicking and scratchin’.
HARTNUT
Hell, you got the last three presidents elected, didn’t ya?
CHANCE
I might maybe did…
CHET
Chance, this would be your best opportunity yet.
No response.
JANE
Chance, this is Jane. You pick the man, you mold him, you make him…
TODD
From scratch.
HARTNUT
Unlimited funds.
CHANCE
Mmmmm… well I tell ya, crawfish season just started, ’n I’m just all pooped up down here. I’m a poopy-butt.
HARTNUT
We understand, but if you don’t do this, I’ll have to kill you.
CHANCE
Hm. I’ll need a squirrel patch full of money.
CUT TO:
INT. AIRPLANE
Chance is on a private jet, having a drink, talking on the phone. He is all business.
SUPER, LOWER THIRD: TWO WEEKS AFTER THAT
CHANCE
Listen up, times have changed. It ain’t going to be a politician at all. We gon’ find ourselves a clean slate, a blank tablet, an empty vessel, which we can fill. What I’m talking about is an actor. And not one’a the seven or so good ones neither. I’m gon’ find me the most patriotic actor in the United States… no, not Hollywood! I just said “patriotic”! Trust me, I know just where to look.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRANSON, MO., TOWN SIGN
Chance’s limo drives by, into town. It passes a large sinkhole with police tape surrounding it. A sign reads: DANGER: SINKHOLE
GRAPHIC: TWO DAYS LATER
MONTAGE - CHANCE going into various shows, we see each marquee as he does so.
MARQUEE - JOSEPH CATALANANO in “ELEANOR ROOSEVELT—BELIEVE IT OR NOT!”
MARQUEE - TRILL HULLSBY in “CHEER FOR AMERICA—A CELEBRATION IN SONG”
MARQUEE - DAVID BUTTERBY in “LINCOLN—MAN OF PASSION AND ROMANCE!”
EXT. “THE BOB AND DAVID BIG FOAM FINGER CELEBRATION THEATRE”
This is the theatre where we were backstage, and we are back in the present tense.
It’s a sunny day in Branson, Mo. But the theatre is more run-down than quaint. The big foam fingers with “America’s #1” on them are tattered and faded from the weather.
SUPER, LOWER THIRD: ONE WEEK LATER… WHICH IS TO SAY… RIGHT NOW!
Chance Nightly walks into frame, glances up at the big foam finger marquee, laughs to himself—this will be entertaining, at least—and enters.
INT. THE BOB AND DAVID BIG FOAM FINGER CELEBRATION THEATRE
MUSIC: Patriotic backing
Some shots of our AUDIENCE, comprised of pasty overweight VACATIONING FAMILIES in various states of boredom and food digestion, as well as some chattery RETIREES, fill half the seats. Chance takes a seat in the back.
We hear an opening announcement.
BOB (LIVE V.O.)
Ladies and gentlemen, the show you are about to see is rated quadruple-X for Xtra Patriotic, Xtra Entertaining, Xtra Educational, and adult language and brief nudity.
David runs, jumps on a mini-tramp, flips and lands on the stage.
DAVID
Hello, Branson! Let me hear you make some noise!
The small crowd applauds. Bob runs, jumps on the mini-tramp, and lands awkwardly on David’s shoulders.
BOB
Hooray for America!
They dance as they sing.
BOB AND DAVID
(singing to the tune of “Let It Whip”)
The pilgrims landed
They said all right
Let’s make a country
If it take us all night
Let Freedom Rip
Let Freedom R
ip
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. SAME - LATER
David is in a George Washington costume, doing the Dorf on Golf gimmick, his tiny legs resting on a table in front of him. Bob, as Abe Lincoln, is standing.
BOB
Hey George, how ya doin’?
Bob slaps David on the back and David does a “Dorf-like” fall.
CUTAWAYS TO AUDIENCE. OLD WOMEN AND CHILDREN LAUGHING.
DAVID
Heyyy.
(slow burn)
Oh hello, Abe Lincoln, the sixteenth president.
BOB
Say, I thought you’d be happy to see me.
DAVID
Why should I be happy? I was the shortest president, my teeth were made of wood, and you tore my country in two!
CUTAWAY TO:
In the audience a small group of HIGH-SCHOOLERS make notes, and behind them stands an older, strange, long-haired gangly fellow named DINO. He stares intently, watching Bob and David.
BOB
Hey, I got a bad rap for that, but now, I got a good rap for that…
Onstage, the lights change, David runs off. Bob picks up a cardboard prop shaped like a mini-Humvee. It says “Hummer” on it.
MUSIC: Gangster rap
BOB (CONT’D)
Damn, it’s me G. A.B.E. to the L.I.N.C. Doin’ a drive-by on slizzavery.
Bob pulls out a gun.
BOB (CONT’D)
That’s right. Got my gat upside the hat of that stupid wack-ass beeyatch, inequality.
Bob shoots at the audience.
SFX: Series of startlingly loud gunshots.
Frightened grandmas shriek. The teenagers laugh and shake their heads at this corny rap.
BOB (CONT’D)
Take that, you punk-ass ho’!
(to audience)
It’s all good.
SFX: A car peeling out.
BOB with his cardboard car, leaves the stage with swagger.
ANGLE ON: CHANCE NIGHTLY IN THE AUDIENCE, INTRIGUED.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. SAME - LATER
It’s the finale, Bob is onstage, wrapped in an American flag. He sings a lonely, triumphant, “Wind Beneath My Wings” type of song. CUTAWAYS to emotional GRANDMAS and bored TEENS.
BOB
If everyone will be quiet now, I will be so honored as to sing the final song of our show. Let’s remember the troops, wherever they are, whatever country they fight for, even our enemies, for without them our troops would be unemployed slackers. ALL troops everywhere deserve the biggest American thumbs-ups we can give them. Amen.
(singing)
I am the wing of an eagle, of my country I must brag, ’cause I was born an American, and I am the wind that flaps the flag.
ANGLE ON: Chance making notes, very intrigued by Bob. Could this be America’s most patriotic actor?
On the final line, Bob’s voice goes impossibly high like a castrato’s…
BOB (CONT’D)
I am the wind that flaps the flag.
SFX: Fireworks.
MUSIC: Up-tempo, crazy Keystone Kops melody
Spotlights swing everywhichway. David roller-skates onstage holding sparklers, and sings the crazy final verse.
DAVID
(singing)
And that’s the story of, and that’s the glory of, there ain’t no more-ey of, we’ve mined the quarry of… America!
BOB AND DAVID
And many more!
Bob and David throw cream pies at each other, laughing hysterically, out of character.
Applause. Bob and David bow.
DAVID
Good night, Branson. See ya in twenty minutes!
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. BACKSTAGE - MOMENTS LATER
Bob and David are in street clothes signing autographs. David is signing an autograph for an EXCITED GRANDMA FAN.
GRANDMA
Oh, Bob, you were wonderful, and my grandson loved it.
GRANDSON
Ha ha. You were funny!
DAVID
Thanks, but I’m not Bob.
Bob is speaking to TWO ANNOYED TEENAGERS.
BOB
You realize I’m interpreting Lincoln, we don’t know how he sounded, this was the eighteen-somethings…
TEEN ONE
Yeah, hey, David, can you sign my credit slip?
BOB
Sure, but I’m not David, but…
TEEN TWO
Just initial where it says we stayed for the whole show.
Bob initials the slip. Back to David.
GRANDMA
(getting closer to David)
So, uh, Bob, I really liked it.
DAVID
Okay, but I’m not…
The Grandma’s GRANDSON pipes up.
GRANDSON
Can we go now?
GRANDMA
Just a second, Grandma’s talking to the performer.
(to David)
So, where do you two hang out after the show? I’d love to get together… party… or whatever.
David and Grandma have a moment. Chance Nightly is nearby, watching.
DAVID
I just don’t know…
GRANDMA
Bob, come on.
DAVID
Okay, okay, just come looking for me, then. I’m Bob Odenkirk…
Chance makes notes as David speaks.
DAVID (CONT’D)
—And I’ll be at the Stage Canteen tonight after the tenth show.
Grandma nods, sexily. Chance has the notes he needs and turns to go.
ANGLE ON: TEENAGE STAGEHAND leaning out the backstage door.
TEENAGE STAGEHAND
Bob, David, next show is in fifteen minutes!
WIDE SHOT: The audience dispersing, Bob and David heading back in for their umpteenth show of the day, Chance walking past camera, his mind spinning.
INT. BACKSTAGE
Bob and David come in, Bob is burning with energy.
BOB
DAVID
A reunion tour?
BOB
No, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. We gotta go into Mr. Billups’s office and get paid. Remember, we want gross points on profit, not a percentage!
Bob takes David down a thin, dark passage to stand outside a cruddy door marked “Theatre Office.”
DAVID
Okay yeah. Oh, and I need to use the real U.S. Constitution for my magic trick, I think people can tell I’m using a fake one.
BOB
Right, and bigger dressing room.
DAVID
Oh, and clothing pegs to hang clothes on!
BOB
And red M&M’s. Only red. Remember where we’re headed?
DAVID
The tip of… something.
BOB
Top.
DAVID
The tip of the top.
BOB
Of the… mmmmm.
DAVID
Mip! The tip of the mip!
BOB
The tip-top of the mip-mop!
DAVID
Mop!
BOB
What about a mop?
DAVID
Nothing. You go first.
They open the creaky door and enter—
INT. THEATER OFFICE
A shitty, overstuffed hoarders theatre office. The OWNER sits behind an old-style calculating machine, counting dirty dollar bills and doing sums.
BOB
Uh… Mr. Billups?
DAVID
Mr. B… Sir?
Bob clears his throat. No response. David claps his hand and YIPS.
DAVID (CONT’D)
Yip!!
The OWNER turns, mechanically, to face them. We see that it is a MECHANICAL BEAR. But Bob and David don’t notice this.
BEAR
Oh, ho ho ho, hee hee hee, it’s a bear’s banjo life for me!
DAVID
That’s great, Mr. Billups.
David looks at Bob—what’s up?
BOB
Mr. Billups… uh, we wanted to talk to you about a raise. We want a raise. We DEMAND a raise.
DAVID
Yes, we want gross points.
BOB
Also, I think you’ve turned into a mechanical bear.
The mechanical bear smiles at them and says:
BEAR
That’s all, folks!
And chuckles. Bob and David share a curious look, then DINO, the hippy who was standing near the teenagers earlier, steps from behind the mechanical bear. He is operating the bear with a control panel. Bob and David turn to see the crotchety MR. BILLUPS, the owner, standing off to the side, clapping.
DAVID
Oh, hello, Mr. Billups.
MR. BILLUPS
Boys, please, don’t sit down. I have some terrific news, for me. I’m going to let you boys go.
DAVID
Where?
MR. BILLUPS
Anywhere you want.
Bob and David are momentarily thrilled.
MR. BILLUPS (CONT’D)
You’re fired.
(turning to Dino)
I will take the family of mechanical bear puppets.
DINO
They’re not PUPPETS! They’re anima-motron-simulacs!
MR. BILLUPS