The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Friday, June 19, 2009

from the film version

Closing Scene from the forthcoming Miramax movie The Heelers Diaries.
Tagline: Get Ready To Root For The Slob.

Establishment Shot: Morning in Dublin.
Interior: A hotel conference room.
John Fry Chief Executive Officer of the Johnston Press is with some of his senior staff sitting around a computer.
They are logging onto The Heelers Diaries.
The camera shot is taken from a point above the computer screen. The film audience is looking into the subjects' faces but we are not able to see what the Johnston Press staffers themselves are viewing on the computer screen.
We only see their reactions and have to imagine what they are seeing.
This camera angle will be repeated throughout the closing scene.

John Fry: Let's see what the little b-st-rd has got for us this morning.

(He pushes a button and leans close to the screen to read...)

John Fry: (reading aloud.) "I do not trust myself to comment on the Johnston Press today. Please click on the link to hear my feelings for John Fry summed up with a candour and restraint that I am not capable of at the moment." Alright b-st-rd, let's see.

(He clicks on the link. The baseline to Isaac Hayes song Chocolate Salty Balls fills the room.)

Isaac Hayes: (singing) Two tablespoons of cinnamon.
And two or three egg whites.
A half a stick of butter, melted.
Stick it all in a bowl baby.
Stir it up with a wooden spoon.
Mix in a cup of flour.
You'll be in heaven soon.
Hey everybody have you seen my bawls.
They're big and chocolatey and brown.
If you ever need a quick pick me up.
Just stick my bawls in your mouth.
Ooooh, suck on my chocolate salty bawls.
Take a little look and suck em.
Suck on my bawls.

(Reaction shot of the Johnners Press types as the song continues. John Fry's face is a mimesis of emotions. He is aghast. The actor should have fun with this. The other Johnners Press toadies show an interesting variety of reactions. They are afraid of their boss. But their reactions range from horror to fascination through to bemusement and then overt mirth and back again.)

(The camera now cuts from the hotel room to characters who have figured at one time or other in The Heelers Diaries. The rest of the scene is an homage to them and to the blogging community. Captions appearing on the bottom of the cinema screen tell us who they are, and give details if appropriate of their websites.)

(Cut to the British socialist Schneewittchen in Canada. She is in front of her computer. The camera viewpoint is looking at her from over the top of her screen. She is logged on to the same page of The Heelers Diaries. Isaac Hayes can be heard singing most mellifluously.)

Caption: Schneewittchen, (Britist Columbia),

Schnee: (musingly) Give 'em hell, James.

(Cut to Genevieve Netz in Kentucky. She is painting a room in her house. Her computer is switched on and Isaac Hayes can be heard singing.)

Caption: Genevieve,

Gen: Oh James, you're incorribibble.

(Cut back to the Johnston Press hotel room. Isaac Hayes still singing.)

John Fry: (No words. Inchoate rage. The actor should explore his limits.)

(Cut to Adrienne Streeter in her home in splendid rural northern Idaho. She is arranging flowers. Isaac Hayes is singing.)

Caption: Adrienne in Idaho,

Adrienne: Ha, ha, ha.

(Cut to an indeterminate location. Camera looking over the top of a computer screen. The room is full of Arab gentlemen wearing black jackets and practicing looking sinister. Their expressions are emotionless but dangerous, if such a thing is possible. I mean, is being sinister an emotion? Isaac Hayes is singing his heart out.)

Isaac Hayes: "Suck on my bawwwwls.

(The song continues. Slowly, one by one, the Black Jackets start to smile.)

(Cut to Miss Jean in Chicago.)

Caption: MJ,

MJ: This much fun can't be legal.

(Cut to Petra in Hungary. She is watching with a group of intellectual friends. They have calm serene faces. But there is an aura of strength about them also. They are the vanguard of young Hungary, the ones who will reinvent and revitalise the spirit of their nation.)

Caption: Petra, Budapest,

Petra: (philosophically) I think politically he is a sort of anarchist socialist synth funk Catholic conservative.

(Cut to Divyvibha Sharma in downtown Bangalore, India. She is with some friends. Their computer is on. They are not looking at it. We see em from our usual camera angle. We only know the computer is on because we can hear Isaac Hayes singing. Divya and her friends are dancing. They perform a perfect Hindu traditional dance seamlessly melded to the western rhythms. Their dance gives new meaning and resonance to Isaac Hayes classic lyric. We get a good long extended version of the Hindus dancing. After all, we owe it to ourselves to live a little.)

Caption: Divya, Bangalore, India.

Divya: James, I love you.

(Cut to Alien spacecraft. The aliens are of course freaking out to Chocolate Salty Balls.)

(Cut back to the Johnners Press hotel room.)

(John Fry still sitting in a state of futile apocalyptic rage. He becomes aware of two of his executive toadies, Snively and Sneed, beginning to laugh. He slowly turns towards them, with a stare that would strip paint off a testicle. They fall silent and adopt serious faces.)

Isaac Hayes: Suck on my bawwwwwwwwwwwls.

(Fade to black.)


Blogger Adrienne said...

What we all have in common is loving yoooooou

6:34 AM  
Blogger heelers said...

I had reservations about publishing this one. I didn't know how you'd take it!

3:36 AM  
Blogger Genevieve said...

You really are incorrigible, James.

5:57 AM  
Blogger heelers said...

The Doc (Doctor Barn) says there's no cure but that I'm mostly harmless.

4:47 AM  
Anonymous ME said...

Wow, thanks for the intellectual image. :)

12:10 PM  

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