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End Six: Foolproofish!
End Six: Foolproofish!
End Six: Foolproofish!
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End Six: Foolproofish!

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(NOTE: THIS IS A SCREENPLAY-FORMATTED DOCUMENT)
F o O L p r O o F i S h !
Mike thought that 'going with the flow' meant being laid-back. He didn't realize that meant everything going downhill.
Mike thought that 'taking tomorrow as it comes' was a guarantee of a tomorrow to come.
Mike thought.
Mike's not sure where his life is going, which should have been determined by where it's been, but even that much is yet to be determined.
The mind left too far open for too long will eventually fall out, or have something dropped into it--but what could possibly go wrong?
These are the ends of the world; we are at them, they are at our throats.
Whether or not we choose to shout ourselves awake from these nightmares is up to us.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 18, 2019
ISBN9780463814529
End Six: Foolproofish!
Author

Boris D. Schleinkofer

He is a fictional character in the Horror-Play “The Greatest Practical Joke Ever”, by Shaytan Komp’ü’tor. He has never made love to a beautiful woman, never wallowed in fresh kill, never found a briefcase full of hundred-dollar bills. In fact, he doesn't even exist at all. So there...And another:Boris D. Schleinkofer is a slave, just like you and everybody else. He lives near the monolith of Baal. His number is 5x2-00x1-11. He is a good citizen.

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    Book preview

    End Six - Boris D. Schleinkofer

    End Six: F o O L p r O o F i S h !

    (Series @TheEndsOfTheWorld)

    ©2019 Boris D. Schleinkofer

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN 9780463814529

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; you might very well end up sharing it with your friends. If you would like to share this book with another person, please consider purchasing an additional copy for each recipient. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support, and for respecting the hard work of this author.

    To see more of this author's work, please visit the following website:

    https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BorisDS

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Act 1

    Act 2

    Intermission

    Act 3

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    (FADE IN:)

    (Opening CREDITS FX-SEQUENCE: these appear amongst animated splash patterns, droplets striking against the screen and distorting the titles with kaleidoscopic psychedelia; the animation resolves into a scene taking place in a hippy crash-pad as someone eyedroppers out a sheet of LSD...)

    INT – CRASH PAD – NIGHT/DAY/NIGHT (TIME-STRETCH)

    (QUINN takes the tab of acid that is torn from the sheet and handed to him as the CREDITS-SEQUENCE continues and places it on his tongue. [NOTE—This is a younger, very different QUINN than we have seen before: his facial features are recognizably the same but his forehead is of more 'average' proportions. Will require a second actor.])

    QUINN

    Thanks, dude!

    DEALER

    So that's exactly what you're getting. This is how you'll know you got good product.

    (QUINN slumps backwards into the couch and time speeds up around him, the people coming and going a buzzing blur of streaking light, and his forehead swells to its usual shape—the QUINN of today whom we know and cherish. END CREDITS-SEQUENCE)

    INT – CRASH PAD – NIGHT

    (QUINN sits up on the couch and then opens his eyes, a man freaking out in an unfamiliar world. He's in a large livingroom with several mattresses pushed into the corners, more garbage than furniture but most of all drug paraphernalia, loud noodling guitar-solos on the stereo that go nowhere; QUINN's assessment of the scene is occasionally interrupted by waves of color, rippling bands of static and tape-distortion, and various hallucinations. The people around him resemble animals, painted clowns, cartoon characters. A hippy sitting next to him in a monkey-mask notices that QUINN has stirred and yells over the music to him:)

    MONKEY

    Wazzu kaka?

    QUINN

    Huh?

    MONKEY

    Whezz ya cartoon?

    QUINN

    What? I can't understand you!

    MONKEY

    I said where's your costume? It's a party man, where's your costume?

    QUINN

    Ohh.

    (QUINN puts a hand to his overly-large brow and grimaces; simultaneously, another wave of static eclipses the screen, then clears up and he recovers:)

    QUINN (Cont.)

    I'm not wearing a costume!

    MONKEY

    Yeah, no shit man! Hey, do you got any weed?

    QUINN

    No man, I'm all ran out!

    MONKEY

    Shit out of luck! Well, Aurora's been drying out the bongwater-filterings in the microwave and we were gonna smoke that! You wanna join in?

    QUINN

    Uhh, is that what that nasty smell is? Yeah man, sure, I'm in! Bitchin'!

    MONKEY

    Cool, man, cool!

    (A man in a bird-mask arrives carrying a steaming plate with two oven-mitts, and sets the plate down on the coffeetable before them; several people nearby descend upon the plate with butterknives, dicing and chopping the sticky black mass. QUINN perceives it as a living thing with writhing tentacles and grasping pseudopods, but then the MONKEY slices off a chop of it, scrapes it off the knife into the bowl of a bong and hands it to him. QUINN puts the bong to his mouth and someone else strikes a lighter for him; he inhales the smoke from the bubbling resin and a whistle comes from nowhere that resounds with a final 'pop!' and QUINN's eyes roll up in their sockets and he immediately passes out, exhaling at last as he slumps back again into the comically-enveloping couch. Hands try to shake him awake but the volume dims and everything goes into slow-motion as he fades out...)

    TITLE: Foolproofish

    (The blackness is occasionally interrupted with scenes of the horrific party going on, overlaid with psychedelic visual effects as the masked partiers get progressively depraved with each other. Things are starting to get pornographic when MIKE pushes two grown adults in furry-costumes aside and reaches in to pull QUINN out of the couch's clutch:)

    MIKE

    Hey, hey Quinn! Buddy, you doin' alright? Hey Quinn, get up man! Quinn!

    QUINN

    Huh? What?

    MIKE

    Quinn! So glad to see you're still in the land of the living! You had me worried there, buddy!

    QUINN

    How long was I out for? What time is it?

    MIKE

    Dude, I've been looking for you for two days. It's Saturday.

    QUINN

    Ohh, oh shit! Can you make it stop?

    MIKE

    Yeah, let's get you home. You've had enough.

    QUINN

    Help me, brother, I'm so lost.

    MIKE

    You are not kidding. Come on, I'll get you back home.

    (QUINN meekly allows MIKE to drag him out of the chaos and they both exit.)

    INT – LIVINGROOM – DAY

    (MIKE leads QUINN through their livingroom and pushes him through the doorway to his bedroom, while a RAT runs across the hallway behind them:)

    MIKE

    There you go. You just lie down. No, just a little bit to the r—good enough. Goodnight, sweet prince.

    (MIKE pulls QUINN's door shut and turns away; he goes to the couch and sits down and takes up a junkmail-coupon flyer, lasciviously eyeballing an upcoming sale on videogame consoles.)

    MIKE

    Soon, soooooon, my precious. You will be mine. Oh yes, you will be mine.

    (He slaps his belly like a set of bongos and then relaxes backwards into the couch, placing the advertisement over his face. The RAT sneaks out, looks at MIKE for a moment, then slinks away.)

    INT – LIVINGROOM – DAY (LATER)

    (MIKE's snores cut short as QUINN jingles the doorknob preparing to leave; MIKE pulls the junkmail off his face and sits up quickly:)

    MIKE

    What? Hey! Quinn, before you leave, can I have a minute to talk to you?

    QUINN

    Yeah, sure, what about?

    MIKE

    Give me a minute, I just woke up. I gotta get my head together.

    QUINN

    Sure, buddy, take your time. What's on your mind?

    MIKE

    It's about the rent.

    QUINN

    Oh, boy.

    MIKE

    Yeah, it's like that. We're late.

    QUINN

    I'll get it.

    MIKE

    You don't have it?

    QUINN

    Not yet, but I will by tonight.

    MIKE

    Oh, okay then. I was a little concerned, seeing as how the landlord is still pretty friendly towards me, and I'd like to keep it that way.

    QUINN

    I will have it for you by tonight, I swear.

    MIKE

    Well, Monday's the earliest I'd be able to mail it out, so there's no rush. Just get it to me by the end of the weekend.

    QUINN

    Yeah, sure man, no problem. Your friends are on their way. Well, see you later.

    MIKE

    Later, gator.

    (QUINN opens the front door to exit and MARCUS is there with his hand raised, poised to knock:)

    MARCUS

    Whoah!

    QUINN (simultaneous)

    Whoa! Hey dude, how's it goin'?

    MARCUS

    Whaa, hey man, is Mike here?

    QUINN

    Yeah, he's inside. Go on in. Oh, hi Betty.

    BETTY (OS)

    Hi!

    (QUINN passes by MARCUS and BETTY and exits as they both enter:)

    MIKE

    Marcus! Betty! I didn't expect either of you, what brings this visit?

    MARCUS

    Hey dude, we were just coming back from the JimmyBerger and I noticed we were in the area, thought I'd stop by... What are you up to today? How are you liking your new place?

    MIKE

    It's great, I love it! Not doing too much today. I was planning on going up to the GamersTops store to buy the new videogame system, but Quinn's got me spooked about the rent.

    MARCUS

    Oh, that sucks. I can't wait to see it in action.

    MIKE

    I don't know what that boy is thinking.

    BETTY

    Pfft, 'boy'.

    MARCUS (to BETTY)

    What? What?

    BETTY

    You don't see

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