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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

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Walk Me Through The Dark (1/1) Alpha/Omega one-shot

Summary: There are no guarantees that life will be easy or happy, but Emma had finally found all that and more in the form of Killian Jones, her best friend, her alpha and mate. She’d forgotten what it was to fear, to run, to have the hope knocked from her body, but she’s about to remember, and so is he.

Rating: Explicit, read through A/N for trigger warnings, or skip to after the cut for spoiler-free

A big thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for beta reading and supporting this story!

AO3 or FF

Author’s Note: This is a hurt/comfort omegaverse based fic for CS. It is rated E for a reason. Tags/Trigger Warnings are as follows: Attempted rape/non-con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Heavy Angst, Sexual Assault Recovery

-Walk Me Through The Dark-

Emma hung onto the rail above her as the subway lurched into motion, her long curls falling around her face and giving some sense of privacy in the crowded car. She stared down at the screen on her phone, a soft smile on her face. Tapping a quick reply to Mary Margaret with one finger, she swiped back to the previous screen, selecting Killian's name and letting go of her hold on the rail so she could send him a message. The train swayed and she widened her stance, regaining her balance. Her stomach churned slightly at the motion and she frowned. She shouldn't have eaten the curry from the food truck for lunch, it never sat well.

She tapped send and reached for the support of the rail again.

E: What are you doing for dinner, babe?

Her eyes traveled the length of the car as she waited for his response. He'd mentioned earlier that his latest overhaul may keep him at the ship yard for some late nights, but the picture Mary Margaret had sent – something simmering in red sauce with a crispy layer of cheese – left her wondering what her mate would be doing to feed himself that evening.

Her cell vibrated in her hand.

K: If I'm lucky, there will be some takeaway left in the work fridge, though I'd much rather be enjoying the evening with you, love.

Heat rushed into her cheeks as she read his words, the echo of his voice in her head. He loved his work at the ship yard, and though it had taken her a long time to realize the sincerity of his words, she knew now just how much truth was in them. Despite having a job that he'd long dreamed about, his favorite place to be was always at her side. The way he made her feel, loved and wanted, was a far cry from how she'd felt her entire childhood into her adult life.

E: I miss you too. Don't forget there's leftover alfredo at home, if you end up not staying too late.

E: Looks like MM is making lasagna.

Their apartment wasn't too far from his office, and she hoped the idea of fresh food would lure him away from whatever dried out leavings had been abandoned by his coworkers.

K: Both of those sound very tempting at the moment. Give MM and David my love.

Emma smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket, settling in for the rest of the ride out to the Nolan's. Friday night dinners had become something of a tradition between the four friends, but things had been so overwhelming at the ship yard lately that Killian missed them more often than he liked. Luckily, his latest overhaul was coming to an end soon, and they were both hoping things would be a bit more manageable.

The car rocked again and Emma swallowed, a sudden wave of nausea creeping up her throat as they moved, something about the steady creaking of the wheels and the sway of the train making her feel sick. Honestly, that was the last time she went with spicy food, it always made her feel off, despite how delicious it was. She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers, sweat beginning to dampen her palm, more tightly around the rail, wishing she were anywhere else as the nausea worsened, her stomach churning and cramping. A tingling warmth worked its way up through her body, spreading along her arms and legs. Another cramp twisted deep in her abdomen, and that's when it hit her.

Her heat was coming on early.

Panic surged beneath the burning heat and nausea as she sucked in a deep breath. It was too early, by a week and a half at least. She would have never dared take public transit if she thought there was even a chance...and now she was stuck on the T with a crammed car. Her eyes darted to the digital map above the door, the light that indicated their position creeping along slowly to North Quincy station. They were only a quarter of the way along, and she cursed her luck.

The doctor had warned her more than once that she could end up suffering from unmanageable heats down the road due to her early use of suppressants, but so far she'd escaped having to deal with any of that. She'd thought she was in the clear.

She could feel the instincts that became heightened during her heats start to spike, the panic only making them sharper. She needed to get off this train, the locked doors and windows and the sheer press of people triggering an instinctual need to run, to get to a place that was warm and safe, a place that was familiar – their bed at home with the blankets piled high and smelling of her mate.

She needed Killian.

She needed her Alpha, but he was already too far, and she was stuck on a train heading in the opposite direction.

Another sharp cramp twisted her insides and she bit back a whimper, adrenaline pumping through her veins and sweat beading on her skin as she shifted, stealing a glance at the people surrounding her. Almost everyone seemed unaware of her predicament, which made sense. Her heat was only just at the beginning of its climb, and it was unlikely that betas would notice much difference in the pheromones her body was producing – not this early on. Only alphas and omegas possessed the hyper-sensitive ability to pick out those scents from the air at such an early stage.

Then her eyes fell on the far corner of the car, and she saw him.

He leaned casually into the corner, but his eyes were narrowed and hard, his lips touched by the start of a smile as he realized that she knew he knew. Flexing his shoulders, he lifted his nose to the air and drew in a deep breath, his mouth twisting into a feral grin.

Emma's eyes widened with fear and she snapped her head back down, breathing heavily as a shiver washed over her body, the hair on her neck prickling. That had been a mistake, she realized, looking away – too submissive and sure to goad the strange alpha into action. She should have stared him down, and normally she would have, but somehow, being stuck in a confined space so far from her mate, her heat bearing down on her in a way that was faster and worse than normal – she was utterly terrified.

The man staring her down – she could feel it, even if she refused to look back in his direction – seemed to be a typical alpha from what she'd briefly seen. He wielded his large, bulky frame with the ease of someone used to getting their way and being obeyed, looming over the people beside him with an air of authority. He'd made a show of scenting the air when she'd laid eyes on him, and the fact that he was so blatantly displaying his interest had the taste of bile stinging sharply in the back of her throat.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

She wanted it to be yesterday, before her body betrayed her and she was stuck in this nightmare.

Another cramp twisted in her gut, longer and sharper, her teeth digging into her lip as she tried to hold back the whine she could feel building in her throat – a call that was always answered by the reassuring rumble of her mate, except he wasn't here.

He was too far, and despite the flush of heat consuming her, she was so cold, her body insisting that she needed the warmth and security only he could provide.

She wanted to call him, the urge to do so almost irrepressible, but she knew he'd be a frantic mess, worrying for no reason. As long as the alpha in the corner kept his distance, she'd be fine – and it's not like he was crazy. Her claim mark would have been clearly visible when she turned toward him, and she knew that her scent gland was in overdrive, producing copious amounts of not only her own signals for heat, but the potent scent of her mate as well, broadcasting to any other alphas in the area that she wasn't a free omega. The guy had to know, so she felt reassured that he'd leave her alone.

She had to believe it, because the alternative was too frightening to consider.

No, there was no reason to call her mate and worry him over nothing. She had time. She'd jump out at North Quincy and grab a car straight back home. Then she would call Killian and let him know that he'd need to cut his work night short. If she was lucky, he'd already be there, drawn in by the promise of chicken alfredo.

Sweat slid from her cold grasp on the rail down the inside of her wrist in into her jacket.

She had to believe that everything would be fine, and for a few minutes it felt that way. It was the movement in her peripheral vision that betrayed that hope. The stray alpha was leaving his place at the other end of the car, people parting around him as he made his way closer. His body was tensed as he took another deep whiff of the air around him, a look of impatience on his face.

“Sorry,” Emma stammered, apologizing to the woman she'd accidentally pushed against in her futile effort to put more distance between herself and the threat the man posed.

Another shiver racked her body, adrenaline amplifying every normal inconvenience that her heat brought out – the cramps, the chills, the clawing need for her mate, and with that, the steady rush of slick that was just starting to slip from between her thighs. She wrangled with her own body, fighting for control and losing, her attention so caught up in maintaining some sort of normalcy that she didn't realize the alpha had moved closer until she felt his hot breath against the back of her neck, the air around her thickening with a sour, deep musk that was simply wrong.

She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out, instead she fell forward, nearly on top of someone in the seat. She'd just managed to pull her feet back beneath her when she felt a firm hand wrap itself around her bicep, hauling her backward.

“Now, now, Omega,” the man chuckled close in her ear, the heat radiating from his body making her want to vomit. “Seems like you need some help.”

“No,” she ground out, almost unable to hear her own words, the hammering of her pulse in her ears drowning them out. “No. I'm claimed.”

She tore herself out of the man's grip and moved quickly toward the small circle of space near the door, uncaring of the people she elbowed or pushed aside to get there. The map above her was starting the blink, the little bulb beneath N. Quincy Station finally lighting up.

Thank god.

With any luck the man had taken the hint and wouldn't risk making a scene. At this point, there had to be at least one or two others on the car aware of what was happening, and there was no way any sane alpha would risk the trouble he could get into for pushing himself on a claimed omega. She hoped – but her heat always gave her tunnel vision, and the only thing she could think of was Killian, of how badly she needed him and how she'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment.

The train finally slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. She'd never moved more quickly in her life, shoving aside the few people that tried to cut her off as she bolted from the train, never even hearing the muttered curses a few commuters send her way.

Her vision blurred in time with her heart, pinching and expanding as her heat slipped into the next gear. She stumbled forward and leaned heavily against a concrete support not far from the train as another cramp jolted through her core, leaving her nerves tingling in pain. She chanced a look back through the thinning crowd as the doors slid shut, but she didn't see him in the station.

Fearing what she might not see, she looked into the window of the car, but she couldn't make out his bulk there either. He wasn't on the train, but she hadn't seen him in the station either. She would have noticed.

The wave of nausea and cramps passed and she pulled out her cell, punching in Killian's number, her breathing echoing in her ears as she waited for the call to connect. He was at work, and she hardly ever called him there, so of course he picked up immediately, concern tainting the voice she'd needed so desperately to hear.

“Emma, is everything alright, love?”

Hearing his actual voice broke something in her, the wall she'd been holding up out of sheer determination, needing to believe that everything would be fine, that the alpha on the train was just going to forget her – but there was a small, niggling part of her brain warning that she would have seen him in the car if he'd stayed, if he hadn't followed her out.

“Killian,” she whimpered, every bit of that fear communicated through the tremor in her voice, in the way her breath fell in short pants as she moved farther out of the station, her eyes darting to the dark corners around her as she hurried toward the back parking lot.

“Emma,” he rushed, his voice laced with dread. “Emma, where are you? What's wrong?”

“My heat, it's early,” she muttered. “I was on the train when it hit. It's bad...”

“I'm coming to get you. What station?”

She nearly dropped the phone as another cramp rocked her, more slick cooling her thighs and dampening her jeans, her breath cut short as she struggled upright again.

“Emma!” Killian snapped just as she brought the phone back to her ear. “What station, Emma?”

“North Quincy. Killian...there was an alpha on the train.”

She could hear the sharp intake of his breath, something in the background dropping to the ground.

“Emma, I'm coming. Can you stay where there are people?”

“I don't know if he followed me,” she admitted, finally saying the thing she hadn't wanted to confront aloud. She hadn't seen him as the station emptied out around her, but there was no denying the odor of his musk that still drifted toward her occasionally. She wanted to believe it was lingering from where he'd wrapped his sweating hand around her arm, but she couldn't be sure. “There's no one here,” she whispered, blanching when she finally realized how far she'd walked in her daze. “I'm in the parking lot. I was gonna grab an Uber home.”

“Are there any cabs? Any cars, love?”

“No, it's so empty, Killian. There's no one here...”

“Stay on the line with me, Emma. I'm coming – right now. I'm on my way.”

Her mate's voice was wrecked, cracking with fear that she knew he was trying to keep at bay. In her gut she knew he was probably more frightened than she was, because she at least had the luxury of her heat muting everything it didn't deem important, but he didn't even have that. Entwining with hers, his fear only made her desire to burrow into their bed that much stronger, everything other than her need for him and a safe place dimming slightly. She wanted home, nestled in warmth with his weight on top of her. She'd be so full and sated, content with him curled around her back...

“Emma.”

Killian's voice broke through the fog, strained but firm, and she found herself humming in response, his voice sending a pleasing vibration through her body.

“Omega!” he snapped, and her purr turned into a whine at the sharp tone of displeasure, but his attempt to pull her back to reality worked, and some semblance of clarity came back to her as she hurried further into the parking lot.

“I'm here – I just...it's bad, Killian. It's coming fast and hard.”

“Just stay with me, love. Look around, do you see the alpha from the train? Did he follow you?”

She turned in place, trying to focus on her surroundings, the sidewalks and the slight glow of the lobby in the empty station, the parked cars and streetlights that cast wide circles of light across the pavement. She didn't see him, but there was this feeling, this warning in her gut that she'd learned to trust.

“I don't see him, but I think...oh, god, I think maybe he did. I don't know. I'm scared, Killian.” She stumbled backwards over the concrete lip of a planted median and grabbed onto the mirror of a car to steady herself. She needed to get farther from the building, someplace dark and hidden and safe – someplace he wouldn't see her. “I have to get out of sight. Maybe he'll just give up...”

“Can you get somewhere with people?”

“Not without going back through the station to the front...there's no one here,” she whispered, the tiny, logical part of her brain still working thinking how insane it was that the parking lot was this empty, like all of her bad luck had saved itself up for one day. “He could be inside still, if I try to go back.”

Just as she was threading her way between two vehicles, her eyes still locked on the station, she saw the silhouette of someone large approaching the doors she'd left mere minutes before, and she knew it was him. Before he could spot her, she dropped to the ground in a crouch, ignoring the sharp cramp that twisted in her gut with every ounce of determination she had left, gritting her teeth and moving farther through the parking lot.

“He's here,” she whispered, sliding her back against the front wheel of a car, her already soaked jeans pressed against the damp pavement. “He's here.”

Everything slowed, her heart beating like a dying drum against her chest, her breath shallow and drawn out on a tremble. She tightened her grip as her phone nearly tumbled from her sweat-slicked hand, her mouth dry with the taste of bile and metal.

He was going to find her. He would find her, and there would be nothing she could do.

The pain in her stomach had doubled, her body caught between fear and desperation, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand, let alone run.

“I'm coming. I'm almost there, I promise. I'm not going to let him hurt you, okay? Just stay quiet, love. Please, just stay with me, Emma.”

He was too far, so far.

“I'm here,” she breathed. “Killian...I'm so scared.”

For a moment there was nothing more than the sound of his wrecked breathing and her quiet pants. Her hearing was sharpened, but she didn't hear any footsteps, didn't know if she even would over the rapid flutter of her pulse in her ears. There was a chance, if she had any luck left, that he'd glanced out the door and hadn't seen her. Maybe he was gone.

She exhaled and the air around her finally shifted, a gust of wind sweeping over the lot and cooling her heated skin. She almost sighed, the relief it brought making her forget for a second that she was drenched with slick, feverish and freezing at the same time – but then she smelled him, the alpha from the train.

He was close, the scent strong and just starting to deepen with notes of an alpha in rut, but nothing about it was heady and intoxicating like her own mate's. It was all wrong, and something feral in her snarled, wanting nothing to do with the male following her.

“Killian,” she broke, her whispered words nearly a cry, tears mixing with sweat as she realized her time was up, her vision blurring.

If she could smell the alpha, then he could smell her.

He would find her.

“Emma, I'm so close. I'll find you, I promise.”

“Killian, I love –”

Her phone clattered to the pavement at her feet, her words stolen as a strong hand grabbed her arm, ripping her up from where she'd been hiding. A pained yelp flew from her mouth as her shoulder twisted painfully, the world spinning as she was pinned against the hood of the car, a heavy body covering her back.

Her attacker's face pushed roughly into the crook of her neck, scenting her with a groan. She shuddered, squirming beneath him, her cries muffled as the suffocating weight of his arm pressed into her face. She sucked in meager, burning gulps of air, vomit rising in the back of her mouth as his tongue swept over the claim mark on her neck.

“You really gave me a chase,” the alpha groaned, his hips rutting against her backside, thrusting her own sore and cramping body into the wheel well. “I like a good chase though, and I've never smelled anything like you before.”

Twisting as much as she was able, she latched her teeth into an exposed section of his hand, her stomach lurching as the taste of blood filled her mouth, his angered snarl cutting across the dark parking lot. For a brief second the pressure eased and Emma hoped she might have a chance, but before she could even draw in a full breath he was back on her, changing his hold and wrapping his bloody fingers around the back of her neck instead. Cold air whipped between their lower bodies and she screamed as his other hand moved to her jeans, her knees banging against metal as she struggled.

“You don't know your place, Omega,” he growled, enjoying her whimper of pain as he pushed her more forcefully against the car, the sound of his zipper making her freeze. “I'll teach you. You'll thank me too. By the end you'll be begging for my knot.”

He kept talking, but his words were slipping away, everything moving farther away – even the piercing noise that Emma thought might have been her own screams, but she didn't know. She couldn't breathe, let alone scream. His fingers were tugging at her zipper, the wet, stubborn material of her jeans scrunching slowly down her hips.

She fought, struggled through the heavy fog settling around her. She didn't want this. It was all wrong. Not her mate, not Killian.

Then the world collapsed around her, lights and sounds finally folding into nothingness like a house of cards as her attacker grew more impatient, her body rocking against the car with each jerk as he struggled to lower the soaked material down her body, her position making it near impossible for him to get the jeans low enough with one hand.

Everything felt so distant, her breath on the hood of the car spreading like smoke and then fading away.

Then in a sudden rush the world snapped back to her, the hot weight against her back and fumbling hands torn away – the sound of something crashing into metal. The sound of a struggle as something was dragged across the pavement, grunts and curses and the sound of a fist hitting something over and over. There were voices now, shouts that come to her like a light through the fog. The sound of her jacket dragging against metal as she slumped to the ground. The sound of her sneakers pushing back gravel, and then the sound of her own voice as her knees hit the pavement.

“Killian,” she rasped, smelling him before she saw him, movement and light and clarity returning to her just as he rushed to her side, his blue eyes shining with tears and his hand, bloodied and swollen, moving to cup her face as he pulled her from the ground, as if she weighed nothing.

To him she never had.

She wanted to cry, finally enveloped by the heat and the scent and the person she needed, her hands twisting in his shirt as she strove to somehow get closer. Sensing her need, Killian shifted her carefully, juggling her in his arms as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her and shielding her in safety and comfort. His sweat and musk were soaked into the material, his scent flooding her, calming her frayed nerves and the part of her that still wanted to jump and kick at every noise reaching her ears.

His body was shaking with adrenaline, the tremors vibrating through her. She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek and neck along his skin in the way she knew would stir her own scent gland, easing his worry and calming him. She felt him settle around her, but then he started to move, growling out something unintelligible – it was then that she realized there must be people standing nearby. He paused and she clung to him tightly, his arms responding in kind. Fear crawled along her spine at the thought someone might be trying to separate them. From a gap in his jacket she could see the flicker of lights, red and blue against the metallic sheen of the cars. She knew he must be talking with a cop, that help had come, but she couldn't focus on the words.

Now that she was where she should be, the reality of her heat was falling back over her like a familiar weight.

The gentle swagger of his body resumed and there was the sound of a car door opening – a brief moment of terror when he let her go, her response immediate and frantic, but then he was back at her side, scooping her from the seat and back into his lap as he barked their address at whoever was driving.

The car pulled away, the fog of fear lessening and eventually falling away from her entirely as she basked in the comfort that was her mate, his arms wrapped solidly around her as he whispered her name over and over into her hair, his fingers caressing her sweat-soaked skin and soothing the writhing need inside of her, wordless promises that she wouldn't feel aching and empty for long, that he would take care of her.

~ * ~ * ~

She isn't sure how long the trip back home takes, but every moment she slides further away from the trauma she'd been put through and into the instinctual need that feels like it just may rip her apart. She's bathed in the scent of her mate – the deep, spicy musk heavy on his skin, laced with notes of sea salt and sweetness and something unique only to him. It's everything she's ever needed. Adrenaline and fear had triggered his rut in the same way they'd worsened her heat, and the familiar intoxicating tang that it edged his scent with was driving her wild with need, slick pooling once more between her legs as she core throbbed violently.

Her attack seems so distant, and far less important than finally getting into the privacy of their own home, to the place where her mate can soothe her and give them what they both desperately need. She wriggles in his lap, unable to hold back the needy plea that she presses into his skin, delighting in the low growl vibrating through his chest as he tightens his grip. Words are snapped at the driver and then Killian is tipping them both to the side as he digs into his pocket. A moment later the car slows to a stop and he's tossing something onto the front seat before easing them outside, her body still caged tightly within his arms.

His jacket is still draped over her, his arms holding it in place, but the collar had settled around her neck and she looks up into his stormy eyes, his pupils blown-wide, just as surely as her own are. There's an unquenchable need there, but below it she sees the fear, the regret and guilt, the anger. Her fingers drift up and cradle the tense line of his jaw, stroking until his muscles unclench, hoping he understands that everything is alright, everything will be alright.

They're together, and she's never felt more safe than she does right now.

He doesn't put her down, not once, despite the struggle it gives him in getting into the apartment, but she doesn't want him to, doesn't think she could stand to be separated for even an instant. She knows there are a lot of things to be said, to be asked, to be cried over, but right now she can't think past tearing off all of the layers that are keeping them apart.

They don't make it farther than the entryway, the door slamming shut behind them as he fingers the offending material of her jacket, the stench of the other alpha still wafting from the wool into the air. When he peels it carefully from her body, clearly resisting the urge to tear it from her, she sighs in relief, shrugging off the weight of it as he tosses it violently across the room.

Killian normally loves taking his time with his mate, using his fingers and mouth to bring her to completion before finally giving in to the crushing need to fill her and knot her, but her need is too great right now, too desperate, and his sudden rut is making it near impossible for him to walk her to the bedroom, let alone take care of her in the way he wants – to sit her down and ask what he can do, what she needs – he knows that she needs this, and he'll give it to her, to them both.

“Alpha...” she begs, suddenly falling to the floor at his feet, her chest pressed against his legs as she rubs her cheek against his crotch, her fingers trembling as she struggles to undo the button of his pants “...need you, Alpha.”

The air between them is thick with the mix of their scents, his blood pounding in his ears, need and fear and desire rolling together like some wild thing, the sweet scent of her slick so strong he can taste it on his tongue, wants to taste it on her soaked flesh.

“Omega,” he rasps, his vision sharpening to see her and only her, his cock hard and throbbing and every instinct in his body telling him that his omega needs him, that only he can give her what she craves. His hands settle tightly on her shoulders, turning her gently on the entryway carpet. “Present for your Alpha.”

Small, expectant whimpers tremble from her throat as she drops to her belly and slides her knees up behind her, her fingers hastily grabbing her rumpled jeans and pushing the sodden material over her ass and down her thighs, wriggling her legs to get them to her knees as an overpowering wave of her scent plows into him.

The sight of her sex, swollen and exposed, presented so wantonly in the air for him has his knot swelling at the base of his cock, his pulse racing as he shoves his jeans down his own legs and kneels behind her, holding the beast in him at bay so he can snatch one last human moment before he's lost completely, burying his mouth in her folds and greedily lapping her juices up, his tongue sweeping every inch he can reach before he pulls back with a growl, images flashing through his head – another alpha's hands on her, another male scenting her, imagining what she would feel like.

Somewhere in the back of his brain he knows that this isn't about that, but gods he needs to feel her to know that she's really there, that they're both here and he made it to her in time, that he didn't let her down completely when she needed him most, that she needs him in this way just as urgently as he needs her.

“Emma,” he whispers, her excited pants driving him on as he pulls back and hovers behind her, the swollen head of his cock throbbing against her scorching folds as his hands settle on her hips, “my Omega...”

“God, yes, yours, Alpha, always yours...”

“Mine.”

And then he's burying himself inside of her, her walls seizing around him the instant he does, her cries of his title and name muffled in the carpet as she gyrates her hips, trying to impale herself further. He wants to savor that first, heavenly wave of pleasure that sinking into her always brings, but the beast inside of him is unrelenting, needing to remind the both of them that she is his, and he is hers. Everything other than the ecstasy of their joining and her delicious noises falls away from him, lost beneath the haze of instincts he can't escape – his hips pistoning as he drags his cock from her grasping channel and thrusts back in, slick running freely from his omega and soaking the floor beneath them as she begs and pleads for all of him.

“Is that what you want, Omega,” he pants, the wet sounds of him pulling out and driving back into her filling the air, her firm ass bouncing as he rams into her again and again. “You need your Alpha's knot?”

“Please, Alpha, please, need it so bad,” she mumbles, her words running one over the next as she lets out a moan and shudders around him, so close to falling apart, but needing the fullness of his knot stretching her. “Just yours, just yours, Alpha...”

She tries to struggle upward, unable to shake the urge to feel her alpha covering her completely, his chest pressed against her back as he thrusts into her, claiming her entirely and leaving no inch of her body unmarked by his firm hold and powerful scent. She's shaking, her limbs barely able to support her own weight as he continues to plow into her, his knot fully swollen and catching the edges of her opening with each push deeper, but he senses what she needs, that the separation between them is too much, and he pauses for a second to move his hands from her hips, grabbing her arms and yanking her upper half closer, their two bodies bent together as he pulls her tightly against his chest, swallowing her small frame entirely as he holds her up, his rut bringing with it a strength that doesn't answer to weariness, but only to need.

His grunts are hot and rhythmic against her neck as he moves within her, his teeth sharper and gently razing the swollen gland that already bears his claim mark, sweat running from both of their bodies and sliding between them. Still riled by the threat to his omega, the beast inside of him is wild and frenzied, driving him to mark her again, to claim her once more – the only thing that will sate him. Beneath him her whimpers spiral into something keening and primal, her legs trembling despite the fact that he's holding both of them suspended as he thrusts, and he knows she's almost there, can feel her swollen walls spasming around him.

He slides one hand down her stomach, changing their angle and forcing himself deeper, his knot brushing further within her swollen walls as they begin to pulse around him.

“Mine, Omega...” he growls, completely lost to the beast as she keens beneath him in answer.

She is his, always his.

“Need it, need it, Alpha, please,” she cries, her walls pulling at the throbbing edge of his knot with each teasing thrust. “Need to feel you fill me up, make me yours, please...”

“Open up for me,” he pants against her skin, his teeth gliding down to clamp around the swell of her shoulder. He moves his hand lower and rubs against her clit, his calloused fingers pinching roughly, his words like liquid sin rolling over her, his cock thick and hard and stretching her in all the right ways, everything flowing and surging together in a brutal wave that crashes over her all at once, her vision fading and slipping into darkness as she shakes beneath him – the familiar sting of his teeth marking her shoulder a vibrant shock of blinding light beneath her lids, drawing every last pulsing moment of rapture from her body.

He thrusts into her one final time, his own peace finding him as he forces the swell of his knot into her tight sheath, the coil in his gut snapping and exploding outward as pleasure rocks his body, her walls milking every last drop of his seed – the beast inside of him quelled.

They come down together, Emma collapsing as he releases her shoulder and cushions her fall with his arms, stifling a groan at the pull between them where he's tightly joined with her still. He carefully maneuvers them to their sides on the damp carpet, Emma's breath leaving her in a gasp as the movement shifts him within her slightly, her walls shivering around him and drawing a last spasm from his still hard member.

“Killian,” she whispers, her voice tired yet serene, her head rolling against his chest so their lips can find one another. “Alpha...”

There are a few blissful minutes where their bodies breath as one, sighs traded between their lips and fingers tracing heated skin, but then the fog of need disperses and the weight of the evening falls back onto them, her body shaking in his embrace.

“Oh, love,” he murmurs, wishing he could pull her more comfortably into the safety of his arms, or that he’d spared a thought to getting them to the bedroom before they’d joined.

She reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressing small kisses into his skin, her tears running along her cheeks and into his palm as she weeps. He tries to hold and comfort her as best he can, his own tears darkening her hair as he presses her closer, whispering soft noises between them. He wants to tell her how sorry he is that he wasn’t by her side, that he hadn’t been able to prevent that monster from ever laying a hand on her, but he knows saying the words won’t make them true, and the last thing he wants to do is burden her with his own failings. With no words strong enough to soothe the hurt that’s been done to her, he simply offers what he can with his presence. As soon as their bodies slip apart, she’s turning into him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest and sighing into his embrace, neither of them sure of the next steps to take, or where those steps might take them.

~ * ~ * ~

It was never going to be easy – taking broken things and making them resemble what they once did never is, but its almost impossible when a new, jagged memory sits among the rest, waiting to find its place.

It wasn't easy the first week that swung violently between frantic couplings and emotional upheaval, a man and woman in uniform sitting opposite their couch as Emma recounted what happened, her hands gripping Killian's like a lifeline. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his body slanted between her and the police. Still mid-rut, his instincts to protect and shield her were at war with the man who understood she needed to tell her story, to do what she could to put the monster who had assaulted her behind bars.

It didn't get any easier the next week when her body finally gasped and released its need, her heat dissipating and leaving her an empty, broken shell that every happiness seemed to run straight through, spilling on the floor.

And none of the hours, or days, or weeks that came after were better. She'd wake at night with the memory of hands on her arm, pressing against her neck – the wrong hands – but there was never more than a second of panic before she was wrapped in the rightness that was her mate, her fears soothed if only for a few moments.

It wasn't easy when she sat on the couch with her therapist, sometimes talking, and sometimes saying nothing at all, but always wondering if those pieces she'd been broken into would ever amount to the strong, capable woman she used to be, or if that one dark piece meant they'd stay forever on the floor, waiting for the next blow that would crush them into an even finer dust.

It wasn't easy for Killian either, not the first week when he bent to the instincts they were both driven by, man warring with pure, primal need, unable to do anything but give in, but fearful that it was too much too soon – both the man and the beast left rabid with fury when the police informed them that while they suspected her attacker had a similar history in other cities, without corroboration or a record, he'd most likely be able to bargain down to a slap on the wrist.

It didn't get any easier after their rut and heat ended, reality slipping through their doorway as they searched for a new normal that didn't disturb the broken pieces that littered the floor and met them each day in the mirror. Killian confided that he'd decided to walk home for dinner when she mentioned the leftovers, that if he hadn't, if he'd decided to stay at the office, he was terrified to think of how much longer it would have taken him to get to her – how one little decision had meant so much. What other decision could he make that would be the wrong one?

None of the hours, day, or weeks that followed were better, waking from his own nightmares to comfort his mate, images he'd never forget still etched behind his closed eyes as Emma shuddered in his arms – the police holding him back from a scene he didn't want to see, Emma bloodied and broken on the ground because he'd taken too long to reach her, because she was a fighter, because he'd failed her.

He'd finally agreed to see someone, to try to find a way just as Emma was, but even then the weight of fixing things felt like a burden he'd crumble beneath, one infinitesimal crack away from shattering. How could he take the guilt, the anger, the resentment, the fear and wrap them up neatly into something that wouldn't drag him down with each step he took? How could he be there for Emma if he couldn't hold himself up? How could he forgive himself?

It wasn't easy, and it took more days and months than they could count, some of them passing in moments of brightness and others lingering like a sickness they couldn't shake, but they had each other. They had help, and gradually, like seasons shifting, the minutes between dark moments grew a little longer, the days between nightmares stretched.

It was months before they took anything but a car to get around Boston, and even then never alone. Emma still hated confined spaces, leaving the doors open to every room she was in, even at work or home, and neither of them were as comfortable with long absences than they once were. When Killian mentioned a transfer to a small ship yard in New York, Emma could see through his reassurances that he would be happy there. She knew his heart, and she also knew hers, so she knew it wasn't right for them.

This was their home, and she wasn't going to let that monster take it away from her, from Killian, from the future they'd always envisioned here.

So they fought for it, through the days that were easy and the ones that weren't, which a year later were few and far between, and on the day that Emma told Killian they would need to move his office out of the spare room, it had never been easier to forget that brief moment of darkness in the face of so much light and promise.

And on the day they painted it a beautiful sea-blue that peeked through the slats of the crib Killian had put together himself, they barely ever thought of all those broken pieces – the few that still lingered were familiar and softened by time, as ingrained into the foundation of who they were now as anything whole – instead, they chose to look ahead to where there was a happy beginning to a new story – and above all else, there was Hope.

#Captain Swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #omegaverse

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soundsof71 · 4 years

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So, considering you are a passionate fan of music released in 1971, I feel justifiably obligated to ask you what you think of Buffy Sainte-Marie's 'She Used to Wanna Be a Ballerina' album. 😂 (Also, it would make me beyond happy if you could post more about Buffy, my friend! Thank you! ❣)

Buffy Sainte-Marie + Crazy Horse - what’s not to love? LOL I confess that it was the Crazy Horse connection that caught my attention first. I had a general idea who Buffy was, had seen her on TV a few times, but I was a big Crazy Horse fan. News that they were her backing band for this album was easily enough for me to scoop it up.

They weren’t doing anything much with Neil Young in 1971 (other than this album, on which Neil also appeared!), but they had released a tasty solo album in February 71, produced by Jack Nitzsche (who also produced this, and would later marry Buffy), and featuring Ry Cooder (also featured here, although did not marry Buffy).

(btw, the first place that Buffy, Ry, and Jack worked together was on the Nic Roeg film Performance, starring Mick Jagger. People obviously remember Mick in that, but musically, Buffy was the best part!)

She Used To Wanna... also features Jesse Ed Davis, a Native American guitarist and singer who was a frequent “usual suspect” at these sort of “sure, invite everyone!” jam albums of the era, and played a prominent role at 1971′s biggest concert (at least in the US), The Concert for Bangladesh on August 1.

(I know you know RUMBLE: The Indians Who Rocked The World, the documentary about indigenous music’s influence on rock and roll, which has chapters on both Buffy and Jesse Ed. I just watched it again recently, and love it! A reminder of Buffy’s pivotal role in classic rock history. Not mentioned in the film: she relentlessly championed the work of her fellow Canadians Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen, helping them get their first record deals.)

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I haven’t listened to She Used To Wanna Be A Ballerina for a while, so I definitely need to do that, along with posting more pictures of Buffy. (I can’t believe I’ve only posted two!)

But I’ll tell you what still stands out to me about that record years later. “Smack Water Jack” is an underrated track from Carole King’s Tapestry that got a ton of airplay at the time. Quincy Jones did an instrumental cover as the title track for his terrific 1971 album, too, but it has somehow faded to obscurity since then. Buffy takes a playful trifle, and turns it into a powerful fable of men of color who explode into violence in response to the violence visited upon them, and self-satisfaction of whites in authority who answer their demands for better living conditions by killing them on the spot.

No need for a trial when you can murder them in the streets, right? “You can't talk to a man when he don't wanna understand / And he don't wanna understand” hits different when Buffy sings it, and in 2020 for that matter.

It’s also just a terrific performance whose combination of soul and rock and roll and driving piano in a sort of Old West-sounding context would have made this sound right at home on a record like Elton John’s Tumbleweed Connection or something by The Band. I’m limited to five video embeds per post so I can’t embed it here, so I'm linking instead: anyone who hasn’t heard this definitely needs to.

Her cover of Neil’s CSNY track “Helpless” has things I like even better than Neil’s original, including Merry Clayton standing in for CSN. Buffy’s version is more muscular (thanks again to Crazy Horse), and taps even more deeply into the isolation of the song that the star power of CSNY somewhat obscured.

Buffy’s version also made a brief but memorable appearance in the 2018 film Hotel Artemis, starring Jodie Foster. A weird little movie that I loved maybe more than it deserved LOL but I recommend nonetheless:

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I know that this album gets attention because of the unusual number of covers, including one by Leonard Cohen, and a cover of a cover that Leonard had made famous on top of that, called "Song of the French Partisan” (hers is the far superior version imo, a song of French resistance to Nazi occupation from the perspective of a woman hiding a resister), but there are a couple of standout originals too.

I love the title of this record, and the title track is a delightful little stomper that playfully cautions against equating the intentions of grown women with the childhood fantasies they’ve grown out of. More Merry Clayton goodness here on backing vocals too.

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“Soldier Blue” is a powerful song first written for the 1970 film of the same name, billed at the time as “The most savage film in history” -- and maybe it was. It used the 1864 Sand Creek Massacre as a metaphor for Vietnam, and it's still shockingly brutal. It was the third-highest grossing movie in the UK in 1971, though, and the single became a top-10 hit for Buffy there.

It didn’t do as well here, either the song or the movie. Perhaps not shockingly in retrospect, Soldier Blue was pulled from American theaters after a few days, the Vietnam metaphor not at all lost on the Nixon administration.

As horrifying as it was, this is about when I was reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee (first published in 1970), and Soldier Blue resonated with me in a whole lot of ways. Here’s the song in the opening credits of the movie.

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I was also really struck by “Moratorium”, which is the story of “Universal Soldier” (from her 1963 debut, but a bigger hit for Donovan in 1965), coming from the opposite direction. In the earlier song, she blamed war on the soldiers who think that fighting is honorable, but here, she has empathizes with the young men, boys really in many cases, who’ve been lied to by their countries, their parents, and even their friends. They’re not vainglorious. They’ve been duped by people they trusted.

(I don't think she takes enough into account how many men sign up to fight because they want to embrace and celebrate their worst, most violent impulses, which was of course an undercurrent of “Universal Soldier”, but I appreciate her empathy here. More than one thing is true at a time.)

Buffy goes even farther, though, calling on soldiers to support and validate demands for peace as explicitly supporting them, summed up in the unforgettable cry, "Fuck the war and bring our brothers home!"

1971 was the peak of antiwar demonstrations in the US, with the biggest crowds ever seen in this country until the 2017 Women’s March. The May 1971 demonstrations pretty much shut down Washington, culminating with Vietnam Veterans Against The War throwing back their medals on the steps of the US Capitol, incredibly powerful stuff to see on TV in my formative years, and Buffy was right there in it. Anti-war songs were a cottage industry for sure, but nobody was writing with the nuance and empathy that Buffy was.

Here’s a 1972 performance of “Moratorium”, Buffy and a piano, and more emotionally bare than that:

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There’s obviously lots more to say about Buffy, far outside the realm of protest music that was actually just a small part of her musical palette -- her pioneering experiments with electronic music, her educational philanthropy starting in her 20s, Sesame Street, you name it. Her commercial peak was still in front of her, and while I can’t say that this is my favorite of her records, it does have some of my favorite songs of hers, and 1971 and She Used to Wanna Be A Ballerina is definitely where I went from knowing who Buffy Sainte-Marie was to being a fan.

I'll also note as I do now and again that while this blog started as an offshoot of a book on 1971 that I’d started but abandoned, I mostly listen to music released now. That’s always been my policy, including in 1971. When 1972 rolled up, I was mostly listening to music from 1972, music from ‘80 in ‘80, ‘91 in ‘91, 2018 in 2018, etc., to name just a few other favorites. (Plus The Beatles, okay? LOL I still listen to The Beatles every day. No apologies.) Honestly? It took me until 2011, in my fifties, when a whole bunch of 40th anniversary editions of 1971 albums got released all at once that made me think, “Wait a minute, this was maybe THE pivotal year in classic rock history!”

So yeah, the historian in me dug into 1971, but even though I happened to be alive and enthralled by music in that year, what I’m doing here has nothing to do with nostalgia, or any idea that that was the *best* year in music, even if for the narrow slice of music that is classic rock, yeah, it absolutely is. For soul/R&B too, and for the explosion of women artists outside the even narrower confines of pop as well. This is not subject to debate. No year like it, before or since. It's just that classic rock is a such a narrow slice, and I like my slices wide. LOL Which is also why my blog has less and less 1971 content as I go along.

While my general policy is that my favorite year for music is THIS year, this particular year hasn’t left me as much energy as usual for listening to music. Some of it is These Trying Times™, some of it is my bipolarity and schizophrenia getting the better of me in waves, as is the way with these, uhm, things. (Keep taking those meds, kids!) I listen to music and post about the people making it as a creative act, not a passive or reflexive one, and I just haven’t felt as creative as usual.

(This is also has everything to do with why so many Asks have been piling up unanswered. I apologize if you’re one of the many kind and indulgent souls who’s gotten in touch, but I swear I’m gonna get to ‘em all!)

To get an idea of what I’m ACTUALLY passionate about right now, my “to be edited later” running list of 2020 favorites randomly added to a playlist as I encounter them, to be properly curated later, is at Spotify, cleverly entitled “2020″ -- 94% women, which is about right. LOL

But since I do in fact listen to old stuff (by which I mean 2019 LOL), I made a list of mostly 2020 bangers from women rockers with some tasty treats from 2019 that I haven’t been able to let go of just yet, inspired by a post I saw at tumblr saying that punk music by women is just plain better (also beyond debate), called “Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam”. I’ll be posting an essay with a YouTube playlist soon, because god forbid that I only talk briefly about anything LOL and most of these women need to be heard AND seen.

Like Buffy Sainte-Marie, whom you'll both see and hear more often on my blog soon. Thanks for the reminder! Always a pleasure to hear from you and be challenged by you. :-)

Peace, Tim

#ask #musicrunsthroughmysoul #buffy saint marie #women in rock #1971 #she used to wanna be a ballerina #1971 album #youtube #1971 single #crazy horse #essay #me

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

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Merry & Bright {9}: Shawty, With You

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Previous: May All Your Christmases Be White

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Swearing! Kissing!

Summary: Yoongi’s been too nervous, and awkward, and embarrassed, to kiss you. With a nudge from his friends, will he finally do it?

Yoongi moves absentmindedly through the Christmas party. It’s a mix of who’s who in the music scene, a wanna be Quincy Jones Grammy party outfitted with the hottest celebs, elves and a high society mall Santa. Somewhere in the mix of celebrities and B-listers, Yoongi knows, is you.

You, no doubt dressed in an ethereal holiday outfit, make up flawless and striking, resembling something straight from Euphoria, and if he knows you, laughing. God, Yoongi loves your laugh, the trill notes you hit in your giggle, the way your smile showed your double set of dimples, chocolate eyes squinting as you lost yourself in bliss. The smile you made when you’d calmed down, not gummy like his, but dazzling, blinding, Helen of Troy sent men to war over her beauty, and if you were any less otherworldly, you could destroy the galaxy.

“You have to talk to her,” Namjoon urges, moving to stand next to Yoongi.

“I don’t even know if she’s here,” Yoongi says, eyes scanning the crowd.

“Text her,” Namjoon says.

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head.

“Make a move before she finds someone else to kiss at midnight,” Namjoon takes a sip of his drink, eyebrows raised. “I’m right.”

“Namjoonie, leave me alone,” Yoongi blushes, gently shoving his maknae.

“At least come dance with us,” Namjoon nudges him towards the dance floor, and he resigns himself to partake.

“Let me get a drink first,” Yoongi counters, and reluctantly Namjoon allows Yoongi out of his sight.

Drifting to the bar, Yoongi bumps into a countless number of celebrities, all looking at him with confusion and recognition in their eyes. They can tell he’s important, the way he holds himself, the manner he’s dressed… It screams of his status, but they can’t place him. K-pop absolutely, but which group? And after they determine the group, which member? Yoongi appreciates his anonymity, though racist, as he brushes against Jimin at the bar.

“Suga-hyung!” Jimin calls, smile dancing on his lips. He wraps his arm around his shoulders, dragging him to the front of the line with him.

“How deep are you?” Yoongi asks, laughing at the blatant intoxication of Jimin and Jungkook.

“Get on our level!” Jungkook yells, giggling immediately as the words fall from his lips.

“Fine,” Yoongi orders three shots, tosses them back and turns to his maknae. “Happy?”

“Let’s dance!” Jimin calls. He takes the hand of each man and guides them to the dance floor. An EDM version of Last Christmas fades as a dance-pop remix of Jingle Bell Rock takes its place. The seven men have a way of finding each other regardless of circumstance, regardless of the crowds around them… Their hearts beat together. Tonight, though hammered nearly into oblivion, they’ve managed to find one another on the dance floor. To say they’re a spectacle would be an understatement. It’s hard to dance anywhere when Jimin, Ho-Seok, Taehyung and Jungkook could wipe the floor with anyone that tried, and tonight is no different.

They laugh and sing as they groove, only stopping when Yoongi stands still, eyes staring at a figure in the distance.

You’re laughing with some guy he doesn’t recognize, the light of the nearby Christmas tree illuminating your dimples, gold eye liner striking a contrast against your warm skin. Yoongi doesn’t realize he’s staring until Taehyung is in his face, drunken smile dancing on his boxy lips.

“Yoongi-ah go say something,” Taehyung urges.

“He’s too scared,” Ho-Seok adds.

“Just remind her how handsome you are… Oh wait, that’s me!” Jin laughs at his bad joke, which elicits an eyeroll from Namjoon and a giggle from Jimin.

“She doesn’t care,” Yoongi shrugs, ear trying to make out the new song the DJ is scratching.

“That’s a lie and you know it, she likes you,” Taehyung teases.

“How would you know?” Yoongi questions, eyes suspicious.

“Get her under the mistletoe and find out!” Taehyung turns from him, laughing with Ho-Seok as they begin some choreography he doesn’t recognize.

“Oo, kiss her underneath the mistletoe!” Jungkook says, his mind catching up to what Taehyung had suggested.

“That’d be so romantic,” Jimin adds.

“Then you’d know,” Namjoon says. He glances past Yoongi at you. You’re stunning, merriment pouring from you like light from the angels. He knows Yoongi is smitten, the flirting and banter you’ve exchanged over the last few months, the dates that haven’t quite been dates, the longing stares and gentle touches Yoongi hoped he hadn’t dreamed… Namjoon had seen it all. He hoped that being in LA for the holidays would spur his hyung on, give him the courage to seal the deal or be gently rejected, and here he stood, at the hottest Christmas party of the season, standing, staring, unmoving.

Namjoon turned to his brothers, and in a quick huddle they hatched a plan. Yoongi wasn’t clueless, but he could be misdirected, especially when he was drunk, especially when you were involved.

Guiding Yoongi back to the bar, Namjoon turned quickly into the crowd, leaving Yoongi alone. Annoyed, he started walking back to the dance floor, only to be grabbed by Jimin who said Namjoon was at the other bar, on the opposite side of the room. Nodding, Yoongi started making his way through the crowd to the opposite side, only to be distracted by Taehyung and Jin, laughing uproariously, guiding him towards the buffet and away from the bar. Somewhere between the buffet and circling around the pool, Yoongi is left alone, taking in his surroundings.

Where the fuck is he?

He turns to walk back the way he came, bumping into you. In the distance he sees Namjoon and Ho-Seok, giving him a thumbs up. He suppresses his instinctive eye roll.

“Fuck,” He says, arms intuitively wrapping around your waist to keep you from falling.

“Sorry,” He breathes.

“It’s o- Min Yoongi,” You smile, lipstick still impeccably placed. “Funny running into you here.”

“I, uh, yeah,” Yoongi’s immediately flustered, cheeks crimson as he tries to glance away from you.

“I’ve been looking for you, your friends said you’d be here,” You say, hands tightening around his biceps. He gets the hint and tries to relax but having you in his arms is electrifying.

“Hmm, they led me on some wild goose chase to I guess, find you,” He shrugs.

“Isn’t that romantic?” You laugh, eyes glancing above you. Yoongi copies you, eyes going embarrassingly wide as he takes in what hangs above you. Mistletoe.

Yoongi stops staring at the plant, which he assumes is plastic, and dares to lock eyes with you.

“I, uh, I’m,” He’s flustered, and it’s making your knees weak.

“We don’t have to, we can just, walk away?” You offer, a hint of disappointment in your voice. Whether you want Yoongi to detect it or not, he does.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Yoongi says. His dominant hand moves swiftly from your waist to cup your cheek and in a decisive moment, his lips are on yours. They’re soft and gentle, skillful and patient.

In the distance, Yoongi’s brothers whoop and holler before tossing back another shot and dispersing to go back to dancing.

Under the mistletoe, you and Yoongi remain, lips intertwined.

Next: All I Want Is You

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vanessakirbyfans · 3 years

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Defying expectations, challenging Hollywood’s norms and facing one’s own fear of failing emerged as central themes when Michelle Pfeiffer, Kate Winslet, Rashida Jones, Vanessa Kirby and Andra Day met virtually in December for The Envelope’s Actress Roundtable. Collectively, they represent four decades in film and more wild experiences than we can fit in one discussion — and they’re also behind some of the most complex characters in film right now.

Pfeiffer is eccentric, wealthy New York widow Frances Price in the quirky drama “French Exit,” which opens this week in limited release. When Price blows through most of her inheritance, she flees to Paris, where she attracts an odd assortment of friends. Winslet is rough-hewn paleontologist Mary Anning in “Ammonite,” a period drama that explores the hardships of a female pioneer in 19th century England’s patriarchal science world and the challenges she faced hiding her love for another woman.

Jones is Laura, the dutiful daughter of an eccentric father in the comedy-drama “On the Rocks.” Despite their complicated history, daughter and father embark on a covert mission to find out if her husband is cheating, but self-discovery may just be the biggest reveal. Kirby conveys anger, sorrow and grief following the death of her newborn baby as Martha in the emotionally wrenching “Pieces of a Woman.” And singer Day makes her film debut in “The United States vs. Billie Holiday,” a period drama streaming on Hulu later this month that chronicles Holiday’s battles with law enforcement, drugs and the crush of systemic racism.

Their conversation here has been edited for length and clarity.

Your films are built around narratives of complex women, many of whom face challenges that aren’t often explored on screen. “Pieces of a Woman” is a great example of a film that is so specifically female, it would have never made it to the screen in the past.

Vanessa Kirby: It definitely feels like a different time right now ... we want to represent women that we identify as being us and the weird parts of us. In the movie, my biggest intention was to make it not a sanitized, movie version of a birth. So [she] felt super sick and burped a lot. She was really nauseous ... things that we might think are unpalatable or not comfortable. That’s all the facets of being human, and particularly being a women. I’ve read so many scripts where it was a version of a woman that I don’t know. It was a film version as opposed to my sister or my best mates or me.

Kate Winslet: That’s what is great about now ... the world is making space for all of these stories. We’ve always tried to tell these stories, but the world is more receptive to hearing them now. That is a shift.... It’s such a moving, seismic time to be doing this job.

Michelle, your character Frances Price is the perfect example of an imperfect female protaganist. She is a mess, and fantastic, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Michelle Pfeiffer: I was just was so curious about this woman, and I thought she was so odd and not like a character that I had seen or that I had played. And then the dialogue is very stylized. So you have to give in to it but, at the same time, not too much. It was made up of these disparate tones of absurdism and melancholy, and it was funny, and it was tragic — these oddballs sort of living on the fringe of society and trying to make some sort of human connection, all of them, in some way.

Rashida, in “On the Rocks,” you play a reserved writer with a charming, flamboyant father. Your real father is Quincy Jones. What sort of parallels did you feel playing Laura?

Rashida Jones: I very much related to this idea of coming of age with a larger-than-life father who commands presence and changes the atmosphere of any room he walks into, and how that in itself can be something you have to untangle from. Because in order to be your own person, in order to find your life, in order to figure out who you are in the world, not relational to anybody else, you have to separate yourself from all that charm and the warm light of your father’s love. That part of it I very much related to. But Laura is unlike me in the sense that I’m pretty outspoken. This character, I think, has a lot of restraint. That was a challenge.

Andra, stepping into the shoes of Billie Holiday must have been a huge challenge, and this is your first film!

Andra Day: It was definitely terrifying. First of all, I’m a fan of hers. And I’ve always loved movies and had such a great respect for the craft of acting. My biggest terror was that I was going to suck. So I was like, “OK, I’m going to take two to three years off of music just to study and focus on acting.” I auditioned at the end of 2017, landed the role at the beginning of 2018, and then we shot at the end of 2019. So I had time to really live in her [shoes]. The film isn’t a sanitized version of Billie Holiday. She is raw. She is a fighter. She’s a hero, in all of her real humanness, even as a fractured figure. All of the emotional pain. It was the most challenging and rewarding thing I’ve done in my life — and the most terrifying.

Winslet: It never goes away.

Day: That’s actually my question. I mean, do you ever really, really shed all of it or let it go?

Winslet: Honestly, it does not go away. But I feel so excited for you, Andra, that in this moment you are connecting with other people, having these kinds of conversations, because we all learn on the job. All of these experiences that we are sharing are the things that will hold you up and buoy you through, and this is a time when we have to hold each other up. But it doesn’t get any easier. And I’m afraid you will always be terrified. I f—ing am.

Pfeiffer: When I first started acting, probably for the first 10 years, I literally on the first day would shake so terribly that I was sure you could see it on film. Fortunately, you couldn’t. I don’t shake any more, but I still have those jitters. I still think the first week of shooting I’m going to be fired and replaced.

Jones: Yeah. So congratulations on that, for a lifetime.

Day: This is a roundtable, but also a therapy session.

Let’s talk about the risks that jangle those nerves. Those of you who have been doing this a while have tackled a wide variety of characters and survived, and thrived. That’s unusual in Hollywood, especially for women.

Pfeiffer: Like all actors, you sort of choose the best of what is available to you, and go for as long as you can without working, until you need a paycheck. It’s also that thing where, depending on what your last role was, that’s how the industry sees you. It’s really up to you to try to find those things that shift it in the direction you want it to go. I did “Grease 2,” and that was one thing, and then was lucky enough a year later to get cast in “Scarface.” People were very upended, because nobody expected that turn. And then when I did “Married to the Mob,” that [was] another seismic shift, like, “Whoa, wait a minute; who’s that?” I remember when I met Marty Scorsese for the first time, he expected this dark-haired girl from New Jersey to walk in. That was one of the most flattering things anyone ever said about my work. It’s just looking for those opportunities, and sometimes they’re very small, but those small opportunities end up having the biggest impact on the direction that your career goes in.

Jones: I just want to interrupt and say how cool this is. Michelle, obviously, you’re an icon and a legend, but the fact that you did [those films] back to back; such different things, such different audiences, such different characters. To me, that is the success of the art form.

Pfeiffer: Well, thank you. I spent lots of time being unemployed and waiting and really stretching it out, but it is, for me, the most exciting thing about being an actor. And that’s why we’re always terrified, because we’re always trying to do something different.

Day: As music artists, people are always trying to put you in a box, like, “This is what you do,” and we’re constantly rebelling against that, because life’s not like that. I can’t be the same. This role changed me, and I wouldn’t have been the same [person] as three years ago anyway. As a fan of yours, [Michelle], it’s exciting not to know what you’re going to come out with next.

Kate, your recent leap into the unknown is playing Mary Anning.

Winslet: She was a woman of scientific brilliance who made pioneering discoveries in the fossil world. But she was an unsung hero, because she lived in the early 1800s, and the world of science and geology was, like so many worlds back then and still now, dominated by men. And those men would buy her finds and claim them as their own discoveries, actually put their names on them. But there was something incredibly stoic and accepting of her lot in life. Mary was self-taught. She was extremely working-class, actually impoverished, lived a very harsh life. I just loved her even though she is cantankerous at times and quite difficult.

Vanessa, in “Pieces of a Woman,” Martha is emotionally distant and hard to read even after going through significant trauma. Was that challenging?

Kirby: In her nature, [Martha] tries to never show anything she’s feeling. So I was really scared, because I thought, “Oh, my God, what if it looks like I’m feeling nothing or nothing’s going on?” I just had to trust that if I really felt it, and I really thought those thoughts [it would come through]. I’ve never given birth ... so a lot of women spoke to me about their experiences of miscarriage or stillbirth or losing children. I owe them everything, because they allowed me to sit with them and try and understand how it really felt. At the end of the shoot, I was like, “I hope it’s done them justice,” because it’s definitely something that’s not spoken about. There’s so much silence around it. I hope that the film will help start conversations that really need to start happening.

Andra, Billie had an exceptional life that was also quite brutal. How did you go about trying to convey that while still honoring her greatness?

Day: She is musically, my foremost inspiration. I already knew a lot about the government going after her. The early war on drugs, and the subsequent wars on drugs, were wholly entrenched in race. I was aware of that, but I didn’t know about how deeply they went after her, even up to her death. Yes, she was an addict and, yes, alcohol and drugs ... but they wanted her to die. And not just kill her, but to actually eradicate her legacy. It’s why I call her the godmother of civil rights, because she was doing it alone. Her singing “Strange Fruit” and the death of Emmett Till reinvigorated the civil rights movement. She was innately a fighter, a character with resilience and tenacity.

Kirby: Kate, can I ask what it was like being so young in “Titanic”? Did it like blow your mind after it came out and you realized that that many people were watching you in the cinema? Did you know at the time when you were making it —

Winslet: I didn’t. I was playing an American for the first time. And working with Leo, who I’d seen in "[What’s Eating] Gilbert Grape” and “Basketball Diaries.” So it was like, “Oh, my God, I’m Kate from Reading.” I was the overweight girl who would always be at the end of the line. And because my name was a W, sometimes I wouldn’t even get in the door of the audition because they’d run out of time before the Ws. And I was in “Titanic.” It’s mad.

Jones: How were you smart enough to know, even with all of that pressure and then getting hit with all of that fame, how did you know to back off and not take the big paychecks? You were so young. How did you know to shoot for longevity?

Winslet: The honest answer is I was scared of Hollywood. A big, scary place, where everyone had to be thin and look a certain way. And I knew that I did not look that way or feel like I fit there, so if I was ever going to belong, I had to earn my place. And to me, I hadn’t earned it. “Titanic” might have been a fluke. I had done “Heavenly Creatures.” I had done “Sense and Sensibility,” which I was nominated for an Academy Award for at the age of 19, but still I had this feeling of “maybe that was just luck.” When I became a mother at 25, all of that stuff evaporated completely. Then two years after she was born, I was asked to do “Eternal Sunshine [of the Spotless Mind].” I do believe that was a huge turning point in my career, because from then on people suddenly went, “Oh, she can do that?!”

Kate, what if anything did you learn from “Ammonite”?

Winslet: It really opened my eyes to wanting to take responsibility for this sort of shared voice that we have as women. To try harder to not be objectified.

Jones: But we take it for granted that things will be the way they’re supposed to be. And that’s what’s been cool about the last five years is there has been a complete and utter subversion of just having that existential moment of like, “Wait, what is it that I’m supposed to do? What are the societal norms? What are the professional norms that I’ve agreed upon that actually don’t feel comfortable?”

Kirby: I remember when I first started reading scripts, the character descriptions. The man, it would always be “articulate, intelligent, high-powered.” And then the woman would be “attractive, dark, beautiful hair, and all eyes look at her when she comes into the room.” It was so subtly objectifying. Often, the woman would be just ever so slightly moving the man’s story along, rather than necessarily having her own journey.

Day: I think we so often write this [young] generation off as like, “Oh, it’s the social media generation, and all they care about is selfies and dah, dah, dah.” But I think we can partly attribute this shift to them. I don’t think this generation wants the glossy, clean, the sanitized version of life. Also, with the internet and social media, everyone’s still connected; the globe is so much smaller now.

Rashida, you’ve not only acted, you’ve written, produced and directed. Do you think that kind of representation behind the camera is making a difference in what we are seeing?

Jones: The good news now is there definitely is an appetite, at least within Hollywood, for female content creators. And what’s nice is what all of you have been saying is the more women there are around, the more comfortable women feel advocating for themselves. If you don’t have that representation around, you’re less likely to speak up, because you don’t feel like you have any backup.

Day: One of the things we learned is that certain audiences would wince at [Billie] getting beat, but I was like, “If we don’t have that in there, then we’re continuing to retool her narrative, the thing that she’s been a victim of her entire life.” Suzan-Lori Parks cowrote this movie with Lee Daniels. Women’s stories have always been told through the lens of masculinity, through how they view us or how they want us to be. Most of our stories need to be told by women, written by women, done by women. Not to write men out of the picture, but for them to understand that it is a collaborative effort.

#Vanessa Kirby #Pieces of a Woman #Kate Winslet #Michelle Pfeiffer #Rashida Jones #Andra Day #Interview #Articles #Roundtable #Videos

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christianstepmoms · 4 years

Text

Austin Powers in: FOR YOUR PUSSY ONLY original script written by RYAN DELL Based on characters created by Mike Myers

OVER BLACK

Brief audio of STATIC, then - it's an audio COLLAGE of clips from TV news, slowly getting LOUDER: NEWS ANCHOR #1 ...one of the most divisive elections of all time... NEWS ANCHOR #2

...recent studies showing that most teachers work multiple jobs to pay their bills...

The Entertainment Tonight theme song is briefly audible.

ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT HOST ...and admitted that if Whoopi leaves the show, she'll also leave...

NEWS ANCHOR #3

...that we cannot allow this to be normalised. This is not normal.

HARD CUT TO:

2 INT. CAMPAIGN OFFICE

(PRODUCTION NOTE: This scene shot in B&W documentary vérité style, à la the 1960 film "PRIMARY".) A modern office filled with frantic workers. DR EVIL is walking-and-talking with a half-dozen politics nerds (or "WONKS") competing for his attention.

WONK #1

Sir, we have interest from Maron about doing an interview before your first rally. DR EVIL (face always unseen) No thanks, I don't want to get shanghaied into doing an ad read for cock rings. WONK #2

Spacey just passed away, the press is asking for a statement.

DR EVIL Landmine. No comment.

2 CONTINUED:

WONK #3

Sir, we have some good news about Alabama, sir.

They hand Dr Evil a piece of paper that just has written in large Times New Roman: "ALABAMA IS FAMOUS FOR BEING ONE OF THE LARGEST NATIONAL PRODUCERS OF COTTON."

DR EVIL

Fantastic. Thank you, Domingo.

Dr Evil enters a BOARDROOM and sits at the head of the table. As he sits there's a sudden HUSHED SILENCE. DR EVIL (CONT'D)

Ladies, gentlemen, non-binary folk, Bari Weiss. You may be wondering why I've gathered all my closest friends here on such short notice. Well, as Prometheus once gave us fire, I am here to make a predictable yet exciting announcement. I have had the numbers crunched by an armada of the most powerful intellectuals known to man.

CAMEO: LARRY McMURTY gives Dr Evil a big thumbs up.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) And I now have some extremely exciting information. Starting now, I'm officially campaigning to be the Democratic nominee for President of the United States of America.

Everyone APPLAUDS. Dr Evil spins in his chair to face everyone.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) (face now revealed) Mwa-ha-ha! Mwa-ha-ha! Who would dare try to stop me! Who?!

3 TITLE SEQUENCE -- EXT. WASHINGTON DC, STREETS

Hundreds of thousands of PROTESTERS line the main streets of DC. A gigantic stage with an American flag pattern curtain, and unattended podium, is flanked by two Secret Service AGENTS.

3 CONTINUED:

CAMEO: LENA DUNHAM comes out from behind the curtain and approaches the podium. The crowd CHEERS.

LENA DUNHAM (into mic) Sisters, comrades, allies. I am so genuinely thankful you've all come out here in solidarity today.

The crowd CHEERS.

LENA DUNHAM (CONT'D) It's my genuine pleasure to introduce our next speaker. He's a legendary sex-positive feminist. Please welcome: Austin Powers!

ANGLE ON: Iconic Beatle boots and striped blue velvet pants step forward from behind the curtain. As they jive towards the podium PAN UP to reveal AUSTIN POWERS, full of life.

AUSTIN POWERS (into mic) That's right, Lena! I positively love to have sex with feminists! Hit it!

MUSIC: "SOUL BOSSA NOVA" by QUINCY JONES. The crowd CHEERS. A cascade of fluro FLOWER PETALS drop from the ceiling. The AGENTS grab from their coats... 60'S STYLE FLOWERS. Austin jumps off stage into the crowd. FREEZE FRAME - TECHNICOLOR TITLE CARD Swinging to the music, Austin enters the crowd, shaking hands and high-fiving people. Austin approaches a defensive line of POLICEMEN holding riot shields.

CROWD (in unison) ACAB! ACAB!

Austin dances past the defensive line and points finger-guns at the police.

AUSTIN POWERS (going along with it) Sure! ACAB, baby, yeah!

The crowd cheers. Several protesters throw away their signs and start go-go dancing. NO REACTION from the police.

3 CONTINUED:

A double-decker bus with a Union Jack pattern design pulls into the crowd and honks its HORN to the tune of the first bars of "GOD SAVE THE QUEEN". Austin jives towards the bus.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (taking photos) Show me mad! You're warriors! You're fighting for your lives! You're returning home and the first compassion or emotional support you receive is from Ken Burns! And... I'm spent.

Austin tosses away the camera into the crowd, who clamour for it, and he enters the bus.

4 TITLE SEQUENCE (CONT.) -- INT. AUSTIN'S BUS

The inside of the bus is incongruously far bigger than the outside. It's been decorated to look like a GLAMOROUS NIGHTCLUB. CAMEOS: ADELE and BURT BACHARACH are on a raised stage, holding martinis.

AUSTIN POWERS It's my pleasure to introduce: Adele!

ADELE (to the tune of "SOUL BOSSA NOVA") It's a fun movie / about a spy / Mike Myers as / a British guy, There will be jokes / some funny stuff / the second Act / is kind of rough, It's Austin Powers / he'll fuck and suck / Burt Bacharach!

Burt Bacharach plays a slow and heartfelt piano rendition of "SOUL BOSSA NOVA". A tear comes to Austin's eye as the song heightens and crescendoes. GRAPHIC: A classic RKO Pictures style "THE END" illustration animates onto the screen. Austin grabs it as if it were a tangible object and smashes it on the floor.

AUSTIN POWERS Burt! You naughty bugger!

4 CONTINUED:

Burt Bacharach does a comical SHRUG. Austin grabs Burt's MARTINI and hurls it out the window.

5 TITLE SEQUENCE (CONT.) -- EXT. NEW YORK, TIMES SQUARE Outside the bus, which is now part of a motorcade in Times Square, Austin catches the MARTINI. Hundreds of PROTESTORS are marching. Dozens of cascading protest signs fly past Austin and obscure him, à la the opening of "UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG". After a moment, Austin suddenly bursts into view with a cartwheel and a somersault, followed by a MARCHING BAND. Austin triumphantly does a powerful double flip onto the top of the famous Red Steps. The crowd chants the final notes of "SOUL BOSSA NOVA" as Austin strikes a powerful pose and we FREEZE FRAME.

6 EXT. OFFICE BUILDING

GRAPHIC: DR EVIL'S HEADQUARTERS (FORMERLY: VOX)

7 INT. CAMPAIGN OFFICE - BOARDROOM

MAPS of hypothetical Electoral College totals and NEWS ARTICLES about Dr Evil's campaign announcement are pinned to the walls. Dr Evil sits at the head of the table as dozens of wonks with laptops and notepads write away furiously.

DR EVIL Attention, everyone. The wonks STOP what they're doing. DR EVIL (CONT'D) I know the campaign is in full swing. But there is a rather solemn matter we must attend to. Ezra, if you please?

CAMEO: EZRA KLEIN gives Dr Evil a thumbs up and flicks a switch. The lights dim. A blank projector screen starts receding from the ceiling extremely SLOWLY with a quiet whirring sound.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Sorry. Trust me. It's worth it. It'll be worth this awkward moment.

(MORE)

7 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D) (beat) People aren't patient enough these days. People can't handle delayed gratification. (beat) Almost ready. Thanks for your patience, everyone.

The screen flickers and a black-and-white photo of MINI-ME appears.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Mini-Me, our colleague, brother - friend - sadly passed away before having the chance to help us with this Presidential campaign. I have prepared a brief video tribute to honor him.

MUSIC: "CHEER UP CHARLIE" from the film WILLY WONKA. FULL FRAME: The video starts. It's an Oscars style "IN MEMORIAM" MONTAGE, except instead of showing 40 different people it's just Mini-Me over and over. It alternates between full screen headshots, and highlights from Mini-Me's life: fly-fishing, attending the midnight launch for Grand Theft Auto III, winning a Golden Globe, etc. It ends on the credit: "MINI-ME: REST IN PEACE. NOT SURE - 2018." The screen shuts off and the lights come back on. The blank projector screen starts receding into the ceiling very SLOWLY with a quiet whirring sound.

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

I’m just gonna let the projector go up organically this time. Less contrived. Better to just let it happen.

Everyone sits in silence as the screen slowly rolls. It clicks into place.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Okay, now to business. As we all know from my canonically accurate appearances on the Jimmy Fallon show, I used to be a member of the Trump administration. As I'm now

presenting myself as an anti- establishment candidate for the

opposing party, this stain on my record may present an obstacle.

(MORE)

7 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

I've asked someone very special to mock up some campaign collateral that will make me contrite yet inspirational. Scott?

SCOTT EVIL - bald with obvious hair plugs - enters and sets up an easel board.

SCOTT

Dad, I have to be honest. Some of the ideas you've asked me to mock up are a bit too radical.

DR EVIL

Scott, no negative tone please. This is a blue-skies room, we don't want to shut down a pitch that might get us to the pitch.

Scott unveils the first easel; a picture of Dr Evil in front of the WHITE BUNGALOW on ST. JAMES ISLAND - doing a double thumbs up. The tagline is "INNOCENT MAN!"

SCOTT

We should be trying to tell people about these trips as little as possible.

DR EVIL

Scott, this is just us getting ahead of the story, ja. It's going to come up in their "op-po".

A frustrated Scott unveils the second easel; a picture of a smiling Dr Evil holding a KNIFE at a young girl's throat with the tagline "VOTE FOR ME OR I WILL KILL HER."

SCOTT

I don't think people are going to like this.

DR EVIL (nodding) See, exactly, I agree. They're going to want me to not kill her.

Scott unveils the third easel; a BOOK COVER in the style of a Judge Judy bestseller. It shows Dr Evil in front of the American flag with the title "DON'T PISS UP MY ASS AND TELL ME IT'S SHIT: A BOLD VISION FOR PRISON REFORM, BY DR EVIL."

SCOTT

Actually, I don't really understand this one.

7 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL

Just in case, I'd like to have a media pivot ready to go.

Scott throws the easels away to the floor.

SCOTT

Dad, none of these are going to work. We need to win over less

radicals and more centrist and non- political...

DR EVIL (interrupting) Cancelled. SCOTT

What?

DR EVIL You're cancelled. Sorry.

SCOTT

Dad, that's not how it...

DR EVIL (interrupting) Ba-ba-ba. Sorry, are you a reservation for two at the Olive Garden on a public holiday? 'cause, you're cancelled. SCOTT This again-- DR EVIL

You're more cancelled than a prisoner's Social Security after 30 days. You're getting cancelled quicker than episode 3 of "WORK IT".

SCOTT

Dad, please, you're a very vulnerable candidate. A populist insurgent could easily outpoll you.

DR EVIL

Oh, ja, like who? A mainstream advocate for a cause célèbre? Like... Ellen DeGeneres? Kim Kardashian? ...Austin Powers?

The wonks LAUGH.

7 CONTINUED:

SCOTT

Laugh all you want, Austin has literally stopped every single plan you've had since 1997. DR EVIL

Cut me a frickin' slice of Gouda over here. Austin hasn't even been on active duty for almost 20 years! What could he possibly be doing now!?

8 EXT. CONDO

A mustached BASIL EXPOSITION, looking up from Google Maps, knocks the front door of a nice-looking condo. AUSTIN POWERS opens the door wearing nothing but a striped pink-white-blue BATHROBE.

AUSTIN POWERS

Basil! What a delightful surprise! I haven't seen you in (holding hand over mouth and mumbling) ...tmgngnmngh... years!

Austin hugs Basil.

BASIL

Austin, please, you're poking me.

AUSTIN POWERS

Oop, sorry. You know me, always packing heat. (noticing moustache) Wow, groovy dick tickler, baby! Come on in!

9 INT. CONDO

There's action figures and old video game systems everywhere. Nerd heaven. As Basil enters and takes off his coat, Austin unsheathes a 9MM PISTOL from a leg holster, turns the safety off, and places it onto the kitchen counter. Austin starts mixing DRINKS as Basil sits down at the living room table.

AUSTIN POWERS

Can I tempt you for a Scofflaw, Basil?

10.

9 CONTINUED:

BASIL

Er, no, it's a bit early for me. Sorry Austin, who are they?

SEVEN athletic barely-dressed naked people of indeterminate gender are lounging on a slowly spinning bed with a Union Jack shag pattern cover.

AUSTIN POWERS

That's my polycule, baby! Say hi, polywogs!

POLYCULE (in unison) Hi, Basil! BASIL Hi, polywogs. (to Austin) Are they all your... companions?

AUSTIN POWERS (winking) Always room for one more!

Basil looks around: there's a bed, the kitchen, a corporate desk with a Newton's cradle on it, motivational posters...

BASIL

Austin, I have to be honest. I'm confused by this new life of yours. I mean, is this your office, or is it your apartment? AUSTIN POWERS

It's both, baby!

Austin smashes a BIG RED BUTTON. An elaborate VIDEO GAMING RIG bursts forth from a hidden compartment inside the table; every gaming system you could imagine hooked up to a CRT television, with a gigantic phallic-looking microphone hanging off the front.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) From this beautiful custom-made rig, I provide insightful audio commentary on all the latest video games for my followers.

SOUND: Audio from "METAL GEAR SOLID 2" plays on the TV along with Austin's commentary.

11.

9 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (from screen) Judo chop! BASIL

Wow, how does that work? AUSTIN POWERS

I find it to be quite a fascinating contradiction, Basil. Traditional media asked us to immerse ourselves in the illusion of something being real, a simulation of our real lives. But now the most popular celebrities of our day don't approximate the tangible: instead they enact the experience of engaging with content like video games, a medium deliberately designed to feel artificial and unreal. Where my forefathers worked with their hands to build houses and raise stock, I instead make a

postmodern product-within-a- product. With every upload, I stray

further from the light of God.

BASIL (pointing at microphone) Oh, sorry, I meant: how does this work?

AUSTIN POWERS

Oh, that's a Blue Yeti mic. Very groovy kit, yeah.

Basil STANDS from the table and straightens his tie.

BASIL

Austin, this is all well and good, but I'm not here for a personal visit. I'm here to call you back into duty for a critical mission. The entire world is at stake.

10 INT. / EXT. SPORTS CAR

Austin and Basil drive in Basil's fancy SPORTS CAR in front of obvious REAR PROJECTION. AUSTIN POWERS Where are we headed, Basil?

12.

10 CONTINUED:

BASIL

Never you mind, Austin. Nothing of great interest is happening at the moment. We’re just on our way to a new location, and soon: we will arrive.

AUSTIN POWERS Wow, that was so clear and succinct. Thank you for telling me that, Basil.

11 EXT. FBI HEADQUARTERS

GRAPHIC: FBI HEADQUARTERS (FORMERLY: AN EMPTY LOT) MUSIC: "STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER"

12 INT. FBI HEADQUARTERS

Basil and Austin are riding a GOLF CART through a brightly lit corridor, lined with LABORATORIES covered by bulletproof glass.

BASIL

A lot has changed since your last mission, Austin. British Intelligence has pooled their resources with our special friends in America. Together we've made amazing strides in the field of counter-terrorism technology.

They ride past a group of 8 YEAR OLD CHILDREN wearing straightjackets, connected to each other with electrodes.

BASIL (CONT'D)

Here we're training the spies of the future to communicate telepathically through morphogenetic resonance. AUSTIN POWERS Very funky stuff! Groovy.

They ride past a group of 8 YEAR OLD CHILDREN being spun

around in circles as a series of LCD panels flashing pro- military imagery revolve around their heads.

13.

12 CONTINUED:

BASIL

Here we're using an advanced version of MK Ultra brainwashing to create a new wave of covert civilian assassins. AUSTIN POWERS

Unbelievable! That's sound as a pound, baby!

They ride past a single sleeping 8 YEAR OLD CHILD lying down in a sad-looking bed, hooked up to an heart monitor.

BASIL

And here we're experimenting with mind prison technology that will make 10 minutes of a prisoner's life feel like a thousand years.

An amazed Austin mimes spraying his own glasses with Windex and wiping them clean.

BASIL (CONT'D)

Ah! Here we are!

The golf cart reaches the end of the corridor to enter: an impossibly huge warehouse full of FBI agents carrying around cheesy-looking campaign collateral for Austin; e.g. CARDBOARD CUTOUTS of Austin, POSTERS in the style of Obama's "Hope" design, HOW TO VOTE FLYERS, etc. AUSTIN POWERS Wait a tic. What's all this?

BASIL

Dr Evil is up to his old tricks. You'll be running for President against him to make sure he doesn't win the Democratic primary.

13 INT. FBI BOARDROOM

Basil is showing a seated Austin a three point plan outlined on a whiteboard.

BASIL

First, we'll announce you as an insurgent candidate making a late appearance right before the first debate. Then, you'll run a populist campaign, forcing Dr Evil's poll numbers down until he quits the race.

(MORE)

14.

13 CONTINUED:

BASIL (CONT'D)

Finally, you'll drop out, allowing a real candidate to win the primary.

AUSTIN POWERS

I'm not sure this plan makes sense.

BASIL

Austin, it's tried-and-true: having a moderate option always steals potential voters away from the more radical candidates. AUSTIN POWERS

No, I mean, I don't understand this premise. I'm a British citizen, so I shouldn't be eligible to campaign for American office. Also, the public knows I've carried out multiple covert operations for a foreign government that have directly damaged American interests. I've never even been a Democr...

Austin suddenly goes cross-eyed and coughs up BLOOD, splattering into his hands. BASIL

Medic!

HARD CUT TO:

14 INT. FBI BOARDROOM

Basil and Austin are now seated. Austin's hooked up to an IV.

BASIL

Austin, I understand what you mean. It's a flimsy conceit. But we've already tried everything else we can to stop Dr Evil. The ten other candidates that the FBI has planted haven't made a dent in his poll numbers. We need someone who knows him best to positively humiliate him in the upcoming debates. And you're the only one who knows how to get inside his twisted mind.

15.

14 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (sheepish) It's not that hard, really. He's very sensitive about being Belgian.

BASIL

See, there you go! Only you know Dr Evil well enough to completely eviscerate him on the debate stage with some well timed insults, banter, and bon mots. So, one more mission, Austin? For old times sake?

AUSTIN POWERS (after a beat) Basil... I'm just not convinced. I'm an icon of a bygone era. A time when a Coke cost 98 cents. A time when America was trapped in a long and futile war. A time when racism and transphobia were actively encouraged in our mainstream studio comedy films. BASIL

Things truly were different back in the 90s.

AUSTIN POWERS

Someone like me doesn't need to run for President. It's not my time.

Basil stands up, grabbing a fancy looking cardboard bag as he does.

BASIL

Well, I can't fault you for your principles. I guess I'll just keep this gift bag.

AUSTIN POWERS (excited) Hold on, foot off the gas for a sec: excusez-moi? BASIL

Oh. Er, as is custom, every Presidential candidate receives a gift bag from the Democratic Party via the marketing company Distinctive Assets. (MORE)

16.

14 CONTINUED:

BASIL (CONT'D) Valued at $148,900, the bag contains items such as a voucher for a spa treatment in the Galapagos and a bottle of French absinthe from A. Junod...

Austin jumps up in excitement, yanking the IV and causing it to fall over and spill on the floor. AUSTIN POWERS

Now that's my bag, baby! I'm in!

15 MONTAGE - AUSTIN CAMPAIGNING MUSIC: "TOOTSIE" by Steven Bishop -- A FREEZE FRAME of a Huffington Post article with the headline "1 WINNER AND 0 LOSERS FROM AUSTIN POWER'S CAMPAIGN ANNOUNCEMENT". ZOOM IN to the video playing at the top of the article: Austin on stage at a small outdoors rally in Vermont.

AUSTIN POWERS

I've beaten Evil before and I will do it again!

-- A computer display scrolling through hundreds of excited and supportive Tweets about Austin's campaign. e.g. @cumeater69: "austins running angd im literaly screamign", @1800FlowersLiker: "i love my job at the us postal service

where ill use military grade shredders to destroy early mail- in votes for austin powers in the dem primary", @SandwichDad:

"Finally, just like Heinz's release of low sodium ketchup in 1957, there's a real option for Americans. Go Austin!!" -- Covers of VOGUE and TIME with glamour shots of Austin. -- CAMEO: Austin on "Meet the Press", smiling and nodding at CHUCK TODD. -- Austin in the kitchen trying to assemble a CROQUEMBOUCHE, but as he places the final pastry on top, the whole thing topples over. -- Covers of TEEN VOGUE and THE GUARDIAN. -- Austin doing a glamorous photoshoot wearing a suit that's patterned like Old Glory. Jumping in a VICTORY POSE, doing a cheeky DOUBLE TAKE, etc. -- Austin standing naked in the middle of his condo, bleeding out of his penis.

17.

15 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Help! I'm bleeding out of my penis!

-- Flashing FREEZE FRAMES of Austin, shaking voters hands in freezing-cold Utah. -- Cover of SENIOR VOGUE. -- LONG PULL OUT of Austin on stage at an NBC Town Hall event receiving a STANDING OVATION from a massive crowd.

16 INT. CAMPAIGN OFFICE

Dr Evil, Scott, and the wonks are standing over a gigantic illuminated MODEL of the United States with blue and black lights highlighting cartoonish models illustrating each state (e.g., PIZZA for New York, WEED LEAF for Colorado, etc.)

WONK #1

So, we're tracking well in South Carolina, little weak in California but lots of room to grow when we have the first debate next week...

A PISSED Dr Evil throws a cup full of iced coffee onto the model, knocking over the statue of a stereotypical ITALIAN CHEF illustrating Texas. DR EVIL

Cut the shit. Are we beating Austin right now or no? WONK #1

You're not taking the right approach. It's not a win or lose proposition this early in the race.

Dr Evil glares at Scott and makes a neck-slicing motion. Scott pulls out a PISTOL and shoots WONK #1 in the back of the head, killing them INSTANTLY. Other wonks rush to pick up the body and quickly mop up the blood like an emergency service team, removing all evidence of the death in less than 15 seconds. WONK #2 rushes in to take WONK #1's place.

DR EVIL

Take this as a caution of how this campaign will reward insolence. But, I concede, we must destroy Austin's campaign before it grows out of control like one of Mike Francesa's hair strands.

(MORE)

18.

16 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D) We must pull off one of the most dirty and foul political tricks conceivable to sabotage our opponent... (dramatic pause) ...planting a scathing, critical opinion column about him in the New York Times!

There is an uncomfortable pause. DR EVIL (CONT'D) C’mon, papa needs a little more spice than that in his Baba Ganoush. It’s not good? Bad idea? Listen, I'm not going to kill anyone else in this room. That guy I just had killed, we had a bad relationship. We were feuding, he used the B-word, it was a whole thing. Speak your mind, gang. There's no bad ideas here.

WONK #2

Well, opinion pieces like that haven't actually hurt a candidate's reputation in about 20 years. If anything it might make Austin more popular.

Dr Evil glances at Scott and winks. As Scott is about to pull out his pistol again WONK #2 sees what's coming, pulls out a GARROTTE and IMMEDIATELY strangles themselves to death. The other wonks rapidly collect the body in a garbage bag and remove it.

DR EVIL

Jeez. Some of you just love to start drama, honestly. Good thing there’s plan B. As a precaution I have kept extensive recordings of all of Austin’s private conversations over the years. We

will pay thousands of online "ro- bots" and sockpuppet accounts to

use phrases and quotes from these recordings... (dramatic pause) ...to force the viral trending of a critical and scathing hashtag!

There is an uncomfortable pause.

19.

16 CONTINUED:

SCOTT

Dad, people have already heard those clips. He’s famous for being horny. Even if you found new

recordings, that would be a one- week news cycle at the most.

Dr Evil makes direct eye contact with Scott and NODS sagely. A confused Scott turns around to see if someone else is behind him. There's an AWKWARD MOMENT where Scott and Dr Evil don't seem to understand each other.

DR EVIL

Okay, fine, never mind, we'll do it Burger King style. Listen, the truth is: this first debate is a big frickin' deal. The voters are looking to the candidates for solace and guidance. We have to take this extremely seriously.

HARD CUT TO:

17 INT. ARSHT CENTER, FLORIDA - DEBATE STAGE

CAMEOS: RYAN STILES and COLIN MOCHRIE are dancing around on the MAIN DEBATE STAGE to a full crowd who are all CLAPPING and laughing along. RYAN STILES Ei-dee-di-dee-di!!!

COLIN MOCHRIE Ei-dee-di-dee-di!!!

The crowd CHEERS. Ryan and Colin exit gracefully. Sitting at a big desk in the centre of the arena, the well-dressed BEN TUGGLER (an awkward, nerdy type: think Michael Cera) turns to face a news camera.

BEN TUGGLER

Wow, thank you to Ryan and Colin for that amazing warm-up act. Hi, I'm Ben Tuggler, tonight's moderator. I would like to remind tonight's audience to please refrain from applause or laughter unless the candidate genuinely deserves it.

-- BEHIND A STAGE-LEFT CURTAIN: Basil is giving Austin a shoulder massage. Austin is wearing a PLAIN BLACK SUIT with a crazy FLURO NECKTIE, and has a towel around his neck like a boxer would before a match.

20.

17 CONTINUED:

BASIL

Now remember, Austin: just land some quippy one-liners, humiliate Dr Evil, and we should be home in time for a brand new episode of "THE DAILY SHOW WITH TREVOR NOAH."

AUSTIN POWERS (wistful) I do love his concise yet adroit commentary on current events. BEN TUGGLER (O.C.) Please welcome our first candidate, Sir Austin "Danger" Powers.

A RED LIGHT gives Austin a signal. He hands Basil the towel and starts walking out. MUSIC: Las Ketchup's "THE KETCHUP SONG" -- STAGE: Austin jives and shakes out to the crowd, full of energy and charisma. He takes his place at one of 12 podiums.

BEN TUGGLER (CONT'D) And our second and final debater of the evening, former Congressman Douglas "Dougie" Evil. AUSTIN POWERS (talking to self) Final?

MUSIC: The Los del Río cover of "MACARENA" Dr Evil enters wearing a formal grey pantsuit. He takes his place at one of the podiums and makes two peace signs with his hands à la Nixon. A bunch of anonymous PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS come on stage and quickly take away all the unused podiums. As the crowd applauds Dr Evil and Austin lock eyes.

DR EVIL (mouthing silently) You're dead, Powers. AUSTIN POWERS (mouthing silently in subtitled Italian) America is a paradise. Will victory here bring you your son's love, or reunite you with your mother?

21.

17 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (mouthing silently, confused) What the fuck? The applause dies down.

BEN TUGGLER

Gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight. The network would like to extend its condolences to the ten other candidates who unfortunately weren't able to make it to Florida this evening. Congressman Evil, would you like to introduce yourself?

DR EVIL

Thank you, Ben. Well, I'm Doctor Evil. You're all familiar with my backstory. I'd like to thank the DNC for playing my walk-on music, a haunting 1996 track about a woman who cheats on her boyfriend while he's being drafted into the army. Very profound song, actually. (briefly, awkwardly dancing the Macarena) Dukka-dukka-dukka-dukka... y'know? You get the jist. BEN TUGGLER And you, Sir Powers? AUSTIN POWERS I'm Austin Powers, baby! BEN TUGGLER (chuckling) Tell me something I don't know.

AUSTIN POWERS

Well, in 1986, I used information from my British Intelligence connections to invest heavily in a privatised Russian sanitation company before the Chernobyl meltdown was announced to the public, a clear case of illegal insider trading that allowed me to profit off the disaster. BEN TUGGLER

Wait, what?

22.

17 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS

Hm?

BEN TUGGLER Why did you tell me that?

Austin's now SWEATING. He looks extremely nervous.

BEN TUGGLER (CONT'D) I’m sorry. I just don’t understand why that’s the thing you decided to say. I was really trying to throw you a softball. DR EVIL

Ben, if I may. Please don't go so hard on my fresh-faced friend over there. Unlike me, he's not used to making bold choices on camera. AUSTIN POWERS (confident) Oh, yeah, bold choices. Like, what, trying to make every volcano in the world explode? Uh, yeah, bold. Not.

BEN TUGGLER

Sir Powers, please, no interrupting the other candidates during their speaking time.

An annoyed Austin leans back from the mic. BEN TUGGLER (CONT'D) Thank you. Now, Congressman Evil; why exactly are you running for President?

DR EVIL

Excellent question. Now more than ever, the American people demand authenticity. So the reason I'm here is; I am a single-issue candidate campaigning for the extrajudicial assassination of left-wing media personality Jon Stewart.

Part of the crowd CHEERS. Austin is taken aback.

BEN TUGGLER

Would you like to explain why you want to kill him?

23.

17 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (annoyed) No.

AUSTIN POWERS (dumbfounded) Are you as high as a Dutch kite, Dr Evil? Why are you threatening the life of America's sweetheart, the winner of 22 Primetime Emmys?

DR EVIL

Oh, the Emmys? If I wanted to know what TV shows a bunch of Hollywood pedophiles enjoy watching, I'd just start a conversation in line at Gelson's.

AUSTIN POWERS

Okay, that's quite enough, Dr Evil! You're on your way to a smacked bottom!

BEN TUGGLER

Sir, you'll have your time, sir...

AUSTIN POWERS (furious, to Dr Evil) No, I'm not letting you get away with this! You’ve done some nasty things in your time, but threatening the life of beloved satirist and cultural commentator Jon Stewart is a step too far!

DR EVIL

Oh, that's your limit, ja? Good luck with your campaign, you British ingrate. We haven't had a polyamorous President since Cleveland. You're not going to get a single vote.

A FURIOUS Austin lunges into a running start, about to CHARGE at Dr Evil. Basil leaps from stage-left to hold him back.

AUSTIN POWERS

Keep my polycule out of your dirty

rotten mouth! I've had more mind- blowing sex with my little pinkie

than you've ever had with your entire body!

24.

17 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (straight into camera) Get a load of this guy. Wow. AUSTIN POWERS Stop fleabagging! Stop it!

DR EVIL (glancing into the camera for emphasis) Oh, you don't like it when I do THIS Austin? Look at the viewer like THIS? Create the illusion of intimacy like THIS?

FREEZE FRAME on a SPLIT SCREEN of furious Austin being held back as Dr Evil stares STRAIGHT INTO CAMERA as we

PULL OUT:

18 NEWS REPORT

-- The debate FREEZE FRAME is now the PICTURE-IN-PICTURE GRAPHIC for a national news report in a fancy-looking studio.

NEWS ANCHOR Critics are calling it "the shortest Democratic primary debate of all time, at a mere four minutes long." Whilst this is just a statement of fact and not actually criticism, the accusation is nevertheless resonating with the Americans who tuned in live.

-- A CUTAWAY to a VOX-POP INTERVIEW with a dishelved looking man wearing a trucker hat. MAN

I didn't watch the debate.

-- In the studio.

NEWS ANCHOR

But as always, the most fascinating story of the night didn't happen on the debate stage.

The picture-in-picture GRAPHIC transitions to an image of a PLANE CRASH.

25.

18 CONTINUED:

NEWS ANCHOR (CONT'D) Immediately before the debate started, the plane transporting all ten of the other Democratic candidates to Miami crashed dramatically in the Florida Reef. We have obtained exclusive audio from the airplane's black box: sensitive viewers are cautioned not to listen to this gruesome tape, as they may find it upsetting. (beat) So, just in case, we won't be playing it.

The GRAPHIC then transitions to a PHOTO of Austin at a rally.

NEWS ANCHOR (CONT'D) With only two candidates now competing in the Democratic primary, the stakes are higher than ever. Despite the tragedy, Sir Powers is already back on the campaign circuit, speaking earlier today to the UAW Local 22 in Detroit.

-- Austin is on a RALLY STAGE with a mic in a desolate hotel conference room, Basil standing behind him.

AUSTIN POWERS

The only union I support is free love, baby!

HARD CUT TO: -- Basil is escorting Austin into an SUV while human shielding him from angry workers, à la the famous PAPARAZZI SHOTS of Marilyn Monroe being harassed at the airport.

WORKERS (in unison) SCAB! SHAME! -- The news suddenly PAUSES.

PULL OUT:

26.

19 INT. CHAPEL

The news report is paused on a television in a creepy ancient Jacobethian-style CHAPEL, with thousands of imperceptibly detailed paintings of brutal massacres on the walls and ceiling. The only things in this massive candlelit space are Basil and the television surrounded by ELEVEN CULT MEMBERS and their LEADER wearing vulture masks and full-body robes, surrounding Basil in a perfect circle. CULT LEADER (always speaking in loud booming voice) We are very disappointed in you, Basil.

BASIL

I know this is, by all accounts, a massive cock-up. CULT LEADER

Your incompetence to manage this campaign risks a gross distortion of the collective moral fabric. There is no less at stake here than the total arc of history.

BASIL Yes. Terribly sorry. CULT MEMBER #1

While we're discussing this. I know we want Austin to win this election but honestly I find him a very hard figure to relate to. CULT MEMBER #2 Is he supposed to actually be British?

CULT LEADER

Friends, please. This is not the appropriate time.

A brief silence. One of the cult members approaches Basil and hands him a GIANT INFO PACKET. BASIL What's this?

CULT LEADER

We have prepared a full itinerary of what Austin will now say and do.

(MORE)

27.

19 CONTINUED:

CULT LEADER (CONT'D) He will not humiliate himself at the next debate. Do not disappoint us again.

Basil nods, takes the PACKET, turns around, and leaves quietly. CU: SLOW PUNCH IN on Basil's face as he leaves: he's tense and disturbed, on the verge of tears.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

20 BLANK SCREEN

SOUNDS of bar patrons drinking and audience members chatting. Some ENERGETIC MUSIC starts playing. (If you've ever heard the stock introduction music at the SYDNEY COMEDY STORE, it's identical to that.)

ANNOUNCER

Everyone, please put your hands together for your headliner, all the way from Scotland: Stuart Hope!

CUT TO:

21 INT. COMEDY CLUB

(PRODUCTION NOTE: This entire scene shot in a single seamless long take, à la "BIRDMAN".) ANGLE ON: A pair of cool-looking SNEAKERS navigating through the crowd at a comedy club. (Potential PRODUCT PLACEMENT.) PAN UP to reveal FAT BASTARD - now athletic, svelte, wearing a flannel shirt and chinos - taking the stage to APPLAUSE.

FAT BASTARD (into mic) Aye. How you all doin'? Wee bit about myself, I recently lost my wallet. When in Rome, y'know?

The crowd LAUGHS and CHEERS.

FAT BASTARD (CONT'D) (doing crowdwork) You two dating? (looking at notes on wrist) That's a new one. Pick your battles!

28.

21 CONTINUED:

The crowd LAUGHS. As Fat Bastard looks around the room he notices a disguised Austin standing in the back, wearing a BASEBALL CAP and a PAIR OF SUNGLASSES atop his normal glasses. Fat Bastard gives Austin a little nod. FAT BASTARD (CONT'D) Uh, anyway. Look it up! You have to pick your battles in Rome, y'know? And then... (taking out wallet) ...I found my wallet. That's my time, get home safe! ANNOUNCER (O.C.) Stuart Hope, everyone!

The crowd CHEERS as Fat Bastard leaves the stage. He nods and keeps his head down as he navigates through the crowd to the back of the room.

RANDOM AUDIENCE MEMBER (whispering) Hey man, congratulations.

Fat Bastard NODS and keeps his head down. He opens a door and enters the GREEN ROOM.

RANDOM COMEDIAN

Great set, Stu. Loved the Rome bit.

-- GREEN ROOM: Fat Bastard shuts the door and turns around, only to see Austin sitting on a SWIVEL CHAIR in front of the makeup mirror.

FAT BASTARD (intense) Powers.

Austin tries to SPIN dramatically but OVERDOES IT, slowly rotating a full 470 degrees. AUSTIN POWERS (once he stops) "Stuart."

(SCRIPT NOTE: For clarity and elegance, FAT BASTARD will now be referred to with his actual name STU.) Stu ROLLS HIS EYES and gets a BEER out of the mini-fridge.

STU

That's my real name, ya troglodyte. Fat Bastard's a stage persona.

(MORE)

29.

21 CONTINUED:

STU (CONT'D)

You've no right to talk smack while gussied up in that shite disguise.

AUSTIN POWERS

What disguise?

An UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE as Stu glares at Austin's HAT AND SUNGLASSES.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) You look good. Still in shape!

STU (while sipping beer) Aye. I'm the thin version from the end of the third film. AUSTIN POWERS

Didn't a hero of yours help you lose that weight? STU (nervous) Yah, and without getting into too much detail, I firmly believe that it was one of the top three most evil things he ever did. Crash diets ne'er stick. I had to get the staple surgery.

AUSTIN POWERS You got your stomach stapled?

STU In a sense.

Stu rolls up his shirt to reveal a massive FOOT-LONG SURGICAL SCAR, bleeding and oozing pus, only being held together with four haphazard STATIONARY STAPLES. The frothing beer he just drank is dribbling out.

AUSTIN POWERS (revolted) Oh, Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick, get that shit out of my face!

Stu rolls down his shirt.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) You truly can be a rotten bastard. And right now, that's exactly what I need.

30.

21 CONTINUED:

STU (while drinking beer) Oh, aye?

Austin takes off the hat and sunglasses. He's WEEPY and has clearly been CRYING.

AUSTIN POWERS

Last night, I was as keen as a bean in a Lean Cuisine to take that stage. Basil thought I would be able to absolutely destroy Dr Evil on the debate stage with witty and perfectly timed bon mots. I even pulled out a classic "Not"! But I got absolutely dominated, man! I didn't have any funk in my trunk, any cream in my cheese, any sperm in my splooge. But now I've figured out the problem. STU

More debate prep? Voter outreach? A single policy of any kind? AUSTIN POWERS No. It's cutting zingers.

Austin gets down on one knee and clasps both hands together as if he were PROPOSING.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) I know I risk repeating myself. But Fat Bastard - Stu - you're a cunning linguist. Can you make me a master debater?

22 SPLIT SCREENS

(A series of half-frame SPLIT SCREENS rapidly replacing and intercutting each other.) - SPLIT SCREEN 1: INT. FBI OFFICE ECU of a SECRETARY'S HAND picking up a massive RED PHONE.

SECRETARY

Austin's hired someone new for the campaign.

- SPLIT SCREEN 2: EXT. / INT. SPORTS CAR

31.

22 CONTINUED:

Basil, now having SHAVED his moustache off, drives against obvious REAR PROJECTION of Californian palm trees.

BASIL

Whoever it is, they need to be separated from Austin immediately.

- SPLIT SCREEN 3: EXT. LONDON STREET ECU: A HIPSTER holding a SMARTPHONE to his ear.

HIPSTER

Hi, I'd like to cancel my subscription to the Guardian. - SPLIT SCREEN 4: INT. FBI HEADQUARTERS A frantic SECRETARY runs down the corridor, surrounded on both sides by several GOLF CARTS.

BASIL (O.S.) (CONT.) We must stick to the plan! Isolate him until he receives my notes! - SPLIT SCREEN 5: INT. GUARDIAN OFFICES A frazzled JOURNALIST is being escorted by SECURITY, holding a cardboard box full of FOLDERS, a LAPTOP, and LEGOS.

HIPSTER (O.S.) (CONT.) I just don't think a real Master

Builder would have confused an L- joint with a 8-stack.

- SPLIT SCREEN 6: INT. FBI BOARDROOM The SECRETARY makes it to the locked door of the BOARDROOM. She frantically tries to open it but it's LOCKED. She looks inside and sees an INAUDIBLE Austin and Stu sitting around a laptop, editing a VIDEO together, chatting and laughing. - SPLIT SCREEN 7: INT. BAR The JOURNALIST idly stirs a COCKTAIL with their finger. They look over and see the HIPSTER, who SMILES and WAVES. - SPLIT SCREEN 8: INT. AIR FORCE JET - MEETING ROOM ECU: Dr Evil holding a huge 80's-style cellphone to his ear.

32.

22 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL

Fantastic. Very good. Thank you, Bret.

CUT TO:

23 INT. AIR FORCE JET - MEETING ROOM (CONT.)

Dr Evil, Scott, and the wonks are sitting in the meeting room of a fancy Air Force One style jumbo jet. An Eli Valley style ILLUSTRATION of Jon Stewart in the electric chair, and several DVD copies of "THE BEST OF THE DAILY SHOW", are laid out on the table. Dr Evil hangs up the phone.

DR EVIL

I have just received a very nice phone call, informing us that tomorrow's newspapers will officially run a story with the title "DR EVIL WON THE DEBATE." Everyone in the room CHEERS and APPLAUDS. DR EVIL (CONT'D)

And whilst the story may be running on page four, this is still a substantial victory. We have begun to pull ahead in the polls and have had our victory odds raised in Vegas betting pools. Our backup plan to use dozens of nuclear warheads to create a geographical secession of California now upon reflection seems both unnecessary and, honestly, a little too flamboyant. The plan to win the Democratic primary is so far a resounding success. With one notable exception.

Dr Evil pulls out a tiny REMOTE and presses a BUTTON. A circular shutter OPENS in the middle of the desk to reveal a POOL full of SHARKS with laser shooters attached to their heads. Another shutter opens from the ceiling and, lowered down on a small circular platform, is... FACT BASTARD (Paul Giamatti), a sweaty and frantic bearded man dressed in smart casual.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Unfortunately, we have had a saboteur in our midst.

33.

23 CONTINUED:

SCOTT Dad, who is this? FACT BASTARD (frantic, thrashing) Please, no! Jesus! DR EVIL

Many... (holding hand over mouth and mumbling) ... ymghdshsg ago, I had a falling out with our friend Fat Bastard. He believed that instead of using lethal weaponry to destroy lives, he could use lethal punchlines to destroy audiences. However, his political scientist brother Fact Bastard here proved loyal - until now.

FACT BASTARD (talking very rapidly) I can fix it! I can re-align the data! Ah, Christ, I'm shitting myself! God! DR EVIL

You were warned, Mr. Bastard, we... Dr Evil is INTERRUPTED by a klaxon-like ALARM.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Ooh, sorry everybody, my pager's going haywire. SCOTT

Dad, you're the frontrunner for President. What could be more important than focusing on the campaign?

FACT BASTARD (to Scott) Shut the fuck up! DR EVIL

Yeah, Scott, grab a fresh hot cup of Nunya, and mind your P's and Q's. (to the other wonks, gesturing at Fact Bastard) And, yeah, kill him, please.

34.

23 CONTINUED:

Dr Evil grabs his REMOTE and ducks into his PRIVATE QUARTERS.

24 INT. AIR FORCE JET - PRIVATE QUARTERS (CONT.)

A PITCH BLACK room. Dr Evil presses a BUTTON on his REMOTE and a blue HOLOGRAM of the robed and masked CULT LEADER quickly FIZZLES into view. CULT LEADER (voice always booming) Thank you, Douglas. Status report.

Dr Evil bends the knee. DR EVIL

My honor, sir. With the insurgent, yet extremely comically appealing character "Fact Bastard" being taken care of, and ten of the other candidates dead, our poll numbers are way up.

CULT LEADER That was our doing. (beat) The murders, I mean, not the concept and intellectual property rights of this iconic new character, who holds broad appeal across four key demos. Do not let the other candidates' sacrifices be in vain.

DR EVIL

Wow, talk about another shot in the macchiato. You tanked a Boeing just for moi?

CULT LEADER

In a situation this complex, we prefer to control all the vectors. (beat) Vectors? Information? Data? Anyway. The next debate is crucial for us. You will finally be able to advocate for our key economic policy with a stronger consolidated base more willing to compromise on your agenda.

35.

24 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL

Wait. Economic policy? I'm sorry, what does that have to do with Jon Stewart?

The HOLOGRAM suddenly INCREASES in size and SHARPENS in focus.

CULT LEADER (louder) You must now expand your platform to address our concerns. If you fail us, you will never cease to regret it.

The HOLOGRAM flickers OFF. Dr Evil takes it all in for a moment. There's a sudden loud SPLASHING SOUND. FACT BASTARD (O.C.) (screaming while thrashing around in the water) Ah, fuck! Jesus!

HARD CUT TO:

25 INT. PSYCHEDELIC WAREHOUSE

MUSIC: Chorus of Talking Heads' "LIFE DURING WARTIME" A brief poppy SEQUENCE where flashing LED panels illuminate Austin doing a VOGUING-STYLE DANCE on stage at a late-night warehouse jam to a packed crowd, as the REUNITED Talking Heads jam out behind him. It's very SHORT and very FUNKY.

DAVID BYRNE Go, Austin, go!

PULL OUT:

26 INT. MEETING ROOM - FOCUS GROUP

The shot of Austin DANCING is now paused on an LCD television in a bland looking MEETING ROOM with reflective glass on all the walls. Ten EVERYDAY AMERICANS sit around a large table. A FACILITATOR hands out a couple of A4 forms.

FACILITATOR

Now, before we start the open forum part of this focus group, I just wanted to ask a question out of curiosity. Who here watched the last Democratic debate?

36.

26 CONTINUED:

No-one raises their hand.

FACILITATOR (CONT'D) There's no wrong answers, that's fine. Can anyone here identify the current Democratic candidates for President?

No-one raises their hand. Someone looks like they're about to COUGH, but they don't.

FACILITATOR (CONT'D) That's totally fine, that's what we're here to find out. Okay. For anyone who's comfortable talking, this would be a great time to say what you think about what you've seen of Austin so far. WOMAN IN BACK (raising hand) I don't feel comfortable talking.

FACILITATOR

No worries, speak only if you feel you need to.

Brief silence.

FACILITATOR (CONT'D) Well, let's move on. We have a new social media ad from the Austin Powers campaign. We'd love to show it to you and get your thoughts, if possible.

CUT TO: - Austin, Stu and Basil are all standing behind the ONE-WAY REFLECTIVE GLASS, looking at the focus group.

BASIL

Austin, please, let me remind you; this is your last chance to run your campaign. If this doesn't go well, you'll need to follow my instructions at the next debate to the word.

AUSTIN POWERS

Calm the farm and slam down a parm, Basil!

(MORE)

37.

26 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Stu and I have crammed and planned a sous-vide flan of an ad that'll turn every man in the land into an Austin fan!

Austin gives an enthusiastic DOUBLE-THUMBS UP.

BASIL (to Stu) Is he for real? STU

Aye. Honestly, I used to think Austin was an annoying little shit. But in the writers' room he really made me feel comfortable experimentin' with new premises, and making sure that even 'is broader pitches were backed up by solid Game.

AUSTIN POWERS

I feel like my UCB 101 course has already paid for itself! I love to riff, baby, yeah!

An UNCONVINCED Basil looks back into the meeting room. Inside the focus group, the FACILITATOR hits a PLAY button on the TV. - ON THE TV; CAMEO: CHRISSY TEIGEN is sitting with Austin on compact DIRECTOR'S CHAIRS. The HOLLYWOOD SIGN clearly visible in the background.

CHRISSY TEIGEN (on the TV) I'm here for Entertainment Tonight with one of my childhood heroes: Austin Powers! How are you, honey?

AUSTIN POWERS (on the TV) Wicked, baby! I'm always happy to make time for a trip to the old dream factory!

- IN FOCUS GROUP: The EVERYDAY AMERICANS have NO REACTION. - ON THE TV: Chrissy Teigen pulls out some NOTE CARDS.

CHRISSY TEIGEN

You are, of course, now running for President!

38.

26 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS

That's right! It's a nice change of pace since usually the only thing I run for is a good shag, baby!

Chrissy and Austin laugh.

CHRISSY TEIGEN Wait. Are you running towards someone specifically to have sex with, or are you running to physically prepare as exercise?

AUSTIN POWERS (pissed) Jesus christ, I didn't know I was being interviewed by a Wikipedia admin. You gonna fact check my fucking middle name next? CHRISSY TEIGEN I just didn't understand the internal logic of what you said.

AUSTIN POWERS It's all of it. It's the whole thing. Let's just do the next segment.

- IN FOCUS GROUP: The EVERYDAY AMERICANS have NO REACTION. - BEHIND THE GLASS: Austin looks over at Basil and shakes his head.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (to Basil) We can edit that out.

- ON THE TV:

CHRISSY TEIGEN (shaking it off) Okay. Well, um, it's been a while since you've been in the spotlight. I was wondering how you're adjusting to modern day trends?

AUSTIN POWERS

Try me, baby!

CHRISSY TEIGEN

Are you woke?

39.

26 CONTINUED:

- IN FOCUS GROUP: The EVERYDAY AMERICANS look on completely NONPLUSSED.

AUSTIN POWERS At about 8:30 this morning! CHRISSY TEIGEN Have you ever gone viral? AUSTIN POWERS

No, but I hear it's lovely in the spring!

- BEHIND THE GLASS: Basil looks on completely MORTIFIED and EXASPERATED.

CHRISSY TEIGEN

Do you floss?

AUSTIN POWERS

The only flossing I like to do is using dental floss to get pubic hair out of my teeth!

The SOUND of Austin grunting and dancing is bursting from the TV. The EVERYDAY AMERICANS have NO REACTION. One of them just keeps checking their WATCH.

CHRISSY TEIGEN Oh, behave, Austin!

Basil looks over at Austin and Stu, very pleased with each other - they HIGH-FIVE.

HARD CUT TO:

27 INT. FBI BOARDROOM

CU: Basil throws a couple copies of VARIETY onto the table with the headline "ILLEGAL YACHT PROSTITUTION RING UNCOVERED."

BASIL (picking it back up) Oh, oops. Wrong one.

CU: Basil throws onto the table: the famous, original version of the SUICIDE LETTER the FBI sent Martin Luther King.

BASIL (CONT'D) (after a beat) Sorry, that's not it either.

40.

27 CONTINUED:

CU: Basil THROWS a series of TEST CARDS marked all over in RED with nasty comments all over them onto the TABLE. Austin and Basil are ALONE in the boardroom. Basil pores over the CARDS and picks up a couple of random ones.

BASIL (CONT'D) "Very horny." "Confusing anachronisms." "Unclear whether he's referencing something that even exists." And this is all just on one card. Austin, I have NEVER seen a focus group go after someone like this.

AUSTIN POWERS Stu's not done writing all our

promos yet! It's still a work-in- progress, Basil, everything needs

coaxing! Let us do a re-cut!

Basil hands Austin the GIANT INFO PACKET he received from the CULT earlier.

BASIL

I gave you as many chances as I could, Austin. Now you need to try things our way. This info packet has everything you need to say and research to win the next debate, down to the word and the letter.

AUSTIN POWERS (reading it through) "Balance the budget." "Being our best selves." "It's not my jurisdiction to interfere with the Mossad." Basil, are you sure people like this kind of thing?

Basil gets as CLOSE to Austin as he can without touching him.

BASIL (intimidating) This is your last chance, Austin. Do not let us down. You and your speechwriter fly out tonight: do not make us regret booking you into the nicest hotel in Michigan.

41.

28 INT. BEST WESTERN HOTEL ROOM

Austin and Stu, carrying suitcases, enter a NICE YET AFFORDABLE hotel room with two single beds.

AUSTIN POWERS Wow! This is nice! STU (excited) Yet affordable!

Austin lifts his SUITCASE onto one of the beds and opens it.

AUSTIN POWERS

Well, my arms are tired and so on, so we better head to bed. There's nothing more shagadelic than getting a good 8 hours of rest, including 111 minutes of REM.

Austin is going through his SUITCASE and getting increasingly frantic.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D)

Oh, no! STU What's wrong?

AUSTIN POWERS

I forgot my laptop! I need it for the homework Basil gave me for tomorrow's debate: listening to every episode of NPR's "Fresh Air, with Terry Gross." STU (wistful) I do admire Terry's award-winning and surgical interviewing style. (shaking that off) 'ere, connect your AirPods to my phone, I've go' every ep downloaded just in case I need to share with a fellow Grosshead. I can listen at the same time with my Airpods Pros, using the new Audio Sharing feature.

AUSTIN POWERS

Well, groovy! Strap me in! How does it work?

42.

28 CONTINUED:

Austin hands over his Airpods charging case.

STU

Just... hold down the button, it'll connect to my...

(PRODUCTION NOTE: The rest of this scene shot in a single very intimate and tense LONG TAKE.) Austin and Stu both move their hands towards the Airpods SYNCING BUTTON. They accidentally brush eachothers' fingers and hold them in place on top of the button.

AUSTIN POWERS Oh. Whoospie-doodle. STU

Hahahaha. You just have to... hold it, for a couple seconds. Awkward.

They hold their fingers there. AUSTIN POWERS

It's like, two Englishmen trying to be the first to go through the door, right? "After you!" "No, I insist!" STU

Aye, it's like, when you're at Thanksgiving, a cultural event I definitely have first hand experience with. Someone has to be the first to eat! Just go already! They keep holding their fingers there. AUSTIN POWERS

Or it's like... uh, when you- it's like, I'm - in line at the CVS. And, the - sorry-- STU

No, no, stick with the riff. AUSTIN POWERS I was just thinking, it's when you're like, "I'm next!", and someone else is like, doing the same thing - y'know what I mean?

Austin and Stu lock eyes.

43.

28 CONTINUED:

STU

Aye, let me know if I'm talkin' outta my arse here... are we havin' a wee lil moment? AUSTIN POWERS

I love my polycule, but, Stu... I haven't felt this way about someone else since my canonically accurate music video for "Beautiful Stranger". STU

Austin, your polycule - are they...

AUSTIN POWERS

There's always room for one more.

Austin and Stu fall into embrace. Austin seems more RELAXED than he's ever been.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D)

Sorry.

STU

Don't apologise. You're not doing anything wrong.

They stay in each others arms for a moment, slowly swaying. (ADDITIONAL PRODUCTION NOTE: Any cinematographers reading this might be curious about the logistical challenge of shooting a scene where Austin and Stu are extremely intimate and constantly touching or interacting with each other, as they're both being played by the same actor. To those readers, don't worry: these shots will be accomplished with SPECIAL EFFECTS.)

29 AUSTIN AND STU - B&W MONTAGE

MUSIC: A beautiful, original, and very romantic composition by Jon Brion that serves as this films' love theme, even though it only plays once. A grainy jump-cut FILM sequence à la Godard's "BREATHLESS", alternating between their FIRST-PERSON PERSPECTIVES as if they're the ones operating the camera. Austin and Stu holding hands and Stu posing for PHOTOS with classic Detroit landmarks, e.g. FORT WAYNE, the GUARDIAN BUILDING and the completely empty COMERICA PARK -- theatrically lit with only the skylights. It's very SWEET and HEARTFELT. Also, despite the rest of the shots being in warm weather, they also have a SNOWBALL FIGHT.

44.

30 INT. DINER (NIGHT)

Austin is sitting near the entrance of typical 50's style AMERICAN DINER. Barely anyone else around. There's two hotdogs lying on the table. Austin hears a METALLIC CLANG and looks over - Stu has put a coin in the jukebox. MUSIC: Tatsuro Yamashita's "MAGIC WAYS" Stu dances over to the table. AUSTIN POWERS Now that’s a song! STU (surprised) You know it?

AUSTIN POWERS

No, but there it is: it’s a song!

They laugh. Stu sits down.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Thanks for taking me out. I'm really worried about the debate tomorrow, baby. STU

I should be thankin' you. I really needed a nice night out. AUSTIN POWERS It's a shame this restaurant doesn't do soups, otherwise I would have been chow down on two types of "Stu"!

STU Yes. That's right.

There's a really nice, comfortable SILENCE.

STU (CONT'D)

I've been wondering about you. When did you know?

AUSTIN POWERS (after a beat) It's never one big thing, right? Just a lot of small things.

Stu briefly GRASPS and affectionately PUMPS both of Austin's hands.

45.

30 CONTINUED:

STU

I had an idea for a joke. Do you know what I'm thinking right now?

AUSTIN POWERS 'If comedians want to be successful, instead of doing "bits", they should do "lots"!'

Stu is AMAZED. They both LAUGH. STU

Just like a very hilarious real thing that happens which I refuse to describe in this context, we are totally in sync!

AUSTIN POWERS

Who would've thought we'd ever end up like this? STU

It's a nice wee lil' romance. I just wish the timing weren't so naff.

AUSTIN POWERS I know. But I have to run for office. STU (genuine) Do you?

Austin looks right back at Stu, right at us...

STU (CONT'D)

This is reminding me of a struggle I had with my mental health that started around the time I wore that comically small UPS outfit as an elaborate disguise. At that time, I struggled intensely with self loathing. I used to have intrusive thoughts frequently. I wouldn't be able to see a sharp knife or look down from heights because it would just trigger these manic fantasies.

AUSTIN POWERS (too excited) Trigger warning!

46.

30 CONTINUED:

The insensitive interruption has Stu GENUINELY hurt and upset.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (meek) Sorry. I misread the moment. I sincerely apologise. Please continue. I should not have said that so enthusiastically.

STU (annoyed) Anyway... the breakthrough wasn't the therapy or SSRIs. It wasn't when I started the Zone diet. It didn' even have anything to do with what I was putting in my belly. (grasping Austin's hands) The breakthrough was realising that I didn't have to bear all the world's problems alone. It's the island thing. You're not Sisyphus. If you didn't run for President to stop Dr Evil, someone else would.

Stu is looking at Austin, and also, looking at us...

AUSTIN POWERS

Three months ago... you would have been right. But the situations shambolic now, baby. If I quit, I've failed my mission - but if I win, I have to do this shitty job.

STU

Well, at least you already know what it's like to be famous.

The BELL at the diner's front door JINGLES - way behind them, a SHADOWY FIGURE enters the diner and takes a seat. But it doesn't break Austin and Stu's focus at all. They BOTH remain totally immersed in the moment. AUSTIN POWERS

Yeah, people really loved my most recent Odama speedrun.

STU

Oh, no, I meant being a world- renowned spy.

47.

30 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS

Oh, that too, sure, whatever. I can imagine a world where people love to tell each other at parties that as children they thought I was attractive solely because I was confidently presented to the world that way, not realising that my visual appearance was intended as a sophisticated critique of a 60’s era British classism that was based on status and wealth.

STU

Man, you must have really slayed puss in college.

Austin does an exaggerated, comical SHRUG. Behind him -- the SHADOWY FIGURE, now wearing a CULT MASK, suddenly SPINS and pulls out a gigantic ANTIQUE RIFLE... STU (CONT'D) AUSTIN! Watch out!

(PRODUCTION NOTE: Brief but epic SLOW MOTION.) Stu goes into a prone position, bursts into a ROLL, kicks against the WALL - shattering the GLASS - and giving him the momentum to... TAKE THE BULLET to the chest. As Stu collapses onto the floor, bleeding out, Austin quickly disarms the SHADOWY FIGURE --

AUSTIN POWERS

Judo chop!

The shadowy figure collapses UNCONSCIOUS. AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (shaking Stu) Are you okay? Speak to me, baby!

Stu is KNOCKED OUT. Austin, FURIOUS and with BLOOD on his hands, spins and grabs the shadowy figure; AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (shaking them) Who do you work for? Who are you?

Austin's shaking causes their mask to fall off, revealing the shadowy figure is--

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Pod Save America host, Jon Favreau?

48.

30 CONTINUED:

JON FAVREAU has already swallowed a CYANIDE CAPSULE and is frothing at the mouth. Austin lets him FALL to the floor and turns back to see STU, coughing up blood.

HARD CUT TO:

31 INT. AMBULANCE

Stu is lying back on a slightly-reclined bed, woozy.

AUSTIN POWERS (frantic, crying) I'm so sorry. This is so fucked up. It should have been me.

STU

Aye, it's okay. Stuff like that is bound to happen when you're out with a secret agent man. AUSTIN POWERS (horrified) What?

STU Secret agent man. AUSTIN POWERS

Oh, sorry, sorry. I thought you'd just made a hard turn into being an extremely confused racist.

STU

Austin... reach into my satchel. Austin grabs STU'S FOLDER out of the satchel.

AUSTIN POWERS

What is this? STU

In case I don't make it; I got some rough drafts for quips, burns, and rejoinders for 'ye. Use these tomorrow night, they're guaranteed to kill. Stu grabs Austin's HAND.

STU (CONT'D) Make that debate magical.

49.

32 INT. HOSPITAL

MUSIC: Brian Eno's "ANOTHER GREEN WORLD" (PRODUCTION NOTE: No natural audio, just the music.) -- Austin sitting by an unconscious Stu, who is hooked up to a heart monitor. The rest of Austin's POLYCULE file in, hugging Austin and bringing him glad-wrapped home cooked meals. -- Austin writing a lengthy LETTER while intermittently looking longingly at Stu. -- Austin opening the FOLDER Stu gave him. A "HOPE TO BE YOUR VALENTINE" card falls out onto the floor. He opens it - there's hundreds of words inside. He reads it, on the verge of tears, and smiles. -- Austin holding the unconscious Fat Bastard's hand. -- As the sun rises, a bleary-eyed Austin looks up and sees a FURIOUS Basil standing in the door. Looking briefly but longingly at Stu, Austin STANDS UP.

MATCH CUT TO:

33 INT. FOX THEATRE, DETROIT - DEBATE STAGE

Austin on the DEBATE STAGE. It's an intimate TOWN HALL DEBATE, with 30 UNDECIDED VOTERS spread out on the sides of the stage. The CREW is still setting everything up. Austin and Dr Evil are already at their LECTERNS, Dr Evil talking to the crowd while two SOUND GUYS adjust the MICROPHONES. DR EVIL (partway through story) I woke up several times to play dilettante by occasionally joining a military insurrection. Summers reading Pinochet, winters blinding insurgents with gnat butter. Some days were good, some days we were trapped in the media embed with a future Senator trying to preserve all of his limbs. We were given secret orders to stage a grassroots coup and assassinate Che Guevara. You needed men with charm and good taste for a mission like that.

(MORE)

50.

33 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

I would individually wine and dine these soldiers, and in exchange I received their undying loyalty. Affection and exhaustion drove me mad. The human mind isn't designed to wrestle with too much of either. I became convinced reality was constrained by a distortion field only I was able to perceive, giving me a supernatural instinct for the "code" of real life. The delusion made me sloppy. On future missions I used a prototype of what would eventually become the Game Boy to indoctrinate child soldiers into the Viet Cong. Children are easy to coerce, they see a chubby bald man and immediately regress to an infantile state. Mother is the first other, but we always would rather to find another father.

SOUND GUY (clicking in an aux cord) Ohhh, it wasn't plugged in. That makes sense. Okay, all good now.

DR EVIL Oh, great, ja. (to undecided voters) I'll tell you the rest later.

GRAPHIC: FLASHY OPENING TITLES - "THE SECOND DEMOCRATIC DEBATE, LIVE FROM DETROIT" The moderator spins around in their desk to face a news camera - it's the alpha male JIM FORESKIN (played by a physically intimidating yet kindhearted goofball - think Jason Segel.)

JIM FORESKIN

Good evenin' y'all - y'all? Why did I just sound like a cowboy there? "Howdy, y'all!" - to the second Democratic debate. I'm Jimmy F, aka "The Jimster", and I'll be "y'all" moderator for tonight. DR EVIL

Before we start, can I just say one thing?

JIM FORESKIN

Sure.

51.

33 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (enunciating into mic) "Mag-ma." (beat) Okay, I'm all good. JIM FORESKIN

Great. Austin, we turn to you now. Your last debate performance was extremely controversial. Is there anything you'd like to say to your critics?

ANGLE ON: Austin's LECTERN. He has two FOLDERS in front of him labelled "STU'S NOTES" and "BASIL'S NOTES". He hesitates. Austin opens BASIL'S FOLDER: a massive glossy HEADSHOT of Stu is inside, autographed in marker with "WHEN IN ROME!! STU"

AUSTIN POWERS (confused) Oh wait. I messed up the labels. Hang on a tic.

Austin swaps the labels and now correctly opens BASIL'S FOLDER.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (to audience) Thank you. There's something really important I want to tell the American people. (flatly reading from notes) The time has come for us to finally dream our biggest dream. When we focus, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.

An uncomfortable pause as the AUDIENCE murmur and whispers to each other. Very MUTED reaction.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (feeling awkward now, riffing a bit) And the best way to move on from national failures? Well, hey, now, in my opinion? The grooviest cure is to create individual victories!

The crowd is not reacting at all. Uncomfortable silence.

52.

33 CONTINUED:

JIM FORESKIN So, Mr. Powers, last time you didn’t get a chance to outline your policies. Would you like to cover those now?

AUSTIN POWERS

Absolutely, Jim. (reading flatly from folder) More dinner. DR EVIL I don’t follow.

AUSTIN POWERS

Like, let‘s say you have a normal size dinner. (gesturing) So, if it was like this, you’d have more dinner. DR EVIL

Wait. Are you saying you want everyone to have bigger dinners, or multiple dinners of the current size?

AUSTIN POWERS (annoyed) It’s all of it. It’s more dinner.

DR EVIL (shaking his head) Wow. More empty words. Inspiring stuff, Powers. (turning to crowd) As for my campaign. In exactly four months, we will be two thousand delegates richer.

The crowd cheers. Austin looks down at his LECTERN again. He's about to reach for BASIL'S FOLDER again but he sees STU'S FOLDER. He smiles for a brief moment, as if he's fully reliving the intimate embrace at the BEST WESTERN. AUDIO SFX: An echo-y version of the GUNSHOT.

STU (O.S.) (omniscent V.O.) Remember...

Austin opens STU'S FOLDER, smiles, and looks up.

53.

33 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (reading enthusiastically) And my campaign will steal every remaining delegate from underneath your crooked, scarred schoz, you coldhearted Kwal.

The crowd CHEERS and LAUGHS. Dr Evil is taken aback.

DR EVIL (genuinely impressed) Wow. Claws in, cat. -- OFFSTAGE: Basil is FURIOUS. BASIL

Austin, what are you doing?! -- MAIN STAGE: Austin is more confident now.

AUSTIN POWERS

Honestly, why do I have to be on stage with such a Five? It's like, a Ten is talking, baby!

The crowd WHOOPS and CHEERS. He takes the mic out of the stand and starts pacing, like George Carlin. AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Dr Evil says he's not a murderer. Uh, yeah, that's what a murderer would say!

Austin gets CHEERS, LAUGHS and a STANDING OVATION.

JIM FORESKIN Everyone, please settle down. Austin, you've had your time, it's time to move on to Congressman Evil now.

Austin NODS and returns to his podium. The crowd slowly stops CHEERING and CLAPPING. Austin looks over to Dr Evil, but he doesn't seem shaken or upset at all: he's SMIRKING.

DR EVIL

America, your choices have never been clearer. Over there, you have a polyamorous dilettante who takes his marching orders from a Comedy Central television show on life support.

(MORE)

54.

33 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Sure, I may be a calculating narcissist, with a strong belief in non-ethical non-monogamy and a conflict of interest due to my several majority-shareholder investments in AOL Time Warner. But, listen, I'm a brutally honest person. If you don't like that, maybe the country just isn't ready for an honest President. The crowd MURMURS and WHISPERS. DR EVIL (CONT'D)

And it's time for you to be honest too, Austin. Let's roll the tape.

AUSTIN POWERS I'm sorry, "tape"? Objection! JIM FORESKIN

Overruled. Congressman Evil, we'll play your tape just this once. But you better be going somewhere with this.

The massive VIDEO DISPLAY shifts to a new feed - it's THIS FILM'S OWN TITLE SEQUENCE.

AUSTIN POWERS Where did you get this? DR EVIL

Care to explain the coverage here, Austin? This little stage area is especially nice. Lena is a good get. Hard to shoot big crowds like this nowadays. (to crowd) Consider this tape my cinematic homage to Nimoy. As we all know, the opening scenes of "STAR TREK IV" show the characters watching a crucial scene from "STAR TREK III". In that freewheeling spirit, I've obtained a snippet from this very film's own title sequence. AUSTIN POWERS (frantic) This was supposed to be a lighthearted and surreal opener, seperate from the coherent internal logic of the film!

55.

33 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL

Excuses, excuses, America. That’s what you’re signed up for if you elect Mr. Powers. Here comes the money shot!

Within the TITLE SEQUENCE, Austin approaches the POLICE.

AUSTIN POWERS (on the screen) Sure! ACAB, baby, yeah!

Austin looks out to the CROWD. He's LOST THEM.

DR EVIL

Care to explain this, Austin? AUSTIN POWERS (panicked) I didn't even know what ACAB meant when I said that! I thought it was a groovy new trend, like saying something is "fleek", or wearing condoms!

The crowd is FURIOUS now. They're loudly BOOING. CAMEO: Dr Evil gives a big thumbs up to, sitting in the crowd, ALAN DERSHOWITZ.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (trying to placate crowd) Now, much like Chris Tucker's character in the film "RUSH HOUR", I understand the words that are coming out of your mouths...

CROWD (chanting repeatedly) RESPECT THE BOYS IN BLUE!

Austin LOOKS OUT onto the crowd, now blinded and overwhelmed by the LIGHTS and NOISE. The furor RISES to a FEVER PITCH-- HARD CUT TO:

34 INT. FBI BOARDROOM

In the boardroom, DARK and DIMLY LIT, Austin and Basil are watching "THE DAILY SHOW WITH TREVOR NOAH".

56.

34 CONTINUED:

-- ON THE TV: TREVOR NOAH is talking to camera, with a GRAPHIC INSERT of a POLITICAL CARTOON that shows a CROSS-EYED Austin’s head on a donkey’s body, being led to the back of a barn by Dr Evil.

TREVOR NOAH (on screen) After last night's debate, Austin Powers polling numbers have gone so low that Elon Musk is building a submarine to try and find them!

The studio audience LAUGHS at this hilarious joke.

TREVOR NOAH (CONT'D) Now, as we all know, there's no better emotional resource in life than chatting to your former boss, so please welcome back to the show: my dear friend, Jon Stewart. JON STEWART walks out to APPLAUSE. JON STEWART

Now, Trevor, if I'm watching a Democratic debate, and the candidate I'm rooting for is the one attempting to use illegal military intervention to end my life... let's just say, things could be going better. The studio audience LAUGHS. -- IN THE BOARDROOM: Basil turns the TV off.

BASIL

This never would have happened if you'd just used my notes. Dr Evil would have had a civil discourse with you if you hadn't brought yourself down to his level. AUSTIN POWERS

He would've attacked me anyway! That's the whole point of a primary! An UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE. BASIL

I'm sorry Austin, it seems like you're just not getting it.

(MORE)

57.

34 CONTINUED:

BASIL (CONT'D)

I have no choice. I have to fire Fat Bastard.

35 EXT. LAS VEGAS SUPERIMPOSITION MONTAGE

A DEPRESSED Austin walks past a series of horrifying NEON SIGNS; "MENTAL ASYLUM", "SOLITARY CONFINEMENT", "WEEKLY WRITER'S WORKSHOP", etc. MUSIC: A seedy JAZZ REMIX of Burt Bacharach's "WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW".

36 EXT. LAS VEGAS STREET

Austin STUMBLES down the sidewalk holding a bottle of whiskey and a copy of Jia Tolentino's "TRICK MIRROR". A LIMOUSINE rolls up and stops next to Austin. An aghast Austin looks over a sees a SILHOUETTE of a man wearing a gigantic FEZ in the driver's seat.

AUSTIN POWERS Oh, no! Mustafa!?

The window SLOWLY rolls down to reveal - inexplicably wearing a FEZ - former Hillary Clinton adviser, PETER DAOU in the driver's seat.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Wait. Former Hillary Clinton adviser, Peter Daou?

The BACK DOOR of the limo electronically UNLOCKS.

PETER DAOU

I'm here to collect you, with or without your verbal consent. Due to factors out of our control, the time has come for you to have a very important conversation. AUSTIN POWERS

No thanks, former Hillary Clinton adviser Peter Daou. I just cannot be buggered. Leave me alone.

Peter Daou, shaking his head, hands Austin a folded PIECE OF PAPER. Austin UNFOLDS it; written in large Times New Roman, it reads "WE HAVE THE BASTARD."

CUT TO:

58.

37 EXT. HIGHWAY

MUSIC: Ominous DRONING music. The LIMO cruises along an empty road. Austin's copy of "TRICK MIRROR" goes flying out of the window and lands in a DIRTY PUDDLE.

38 EXT. MANSION (CONT.)

GRAPHIC: PINKUS CASTLE (FORMERLY: AN EMPTY LOT) The LIMO cruises past the open FRONT GATE to a luxurious, 19th century Jacobethean-style MANSION.

CUT TO:

39 INT. MANSION

Peter Daou and Austin walk through a dimly-lit corridor lined by PRISON CELLS. The roof is lined with SURVEILLANCE CAMERAS slowly MOVING to track Austin. AUSTIN POWERS What is all this? PETER DAOU

Don't talk to any of them. It'll just make things harder.

They walk past a MASSIVE, PULSING BLOB OF FLESH with the texture of human skin: no eyes or orifices but dozens of MOUTHS. Multiple PLASTIC TUBES feed it SLUDGE.

AUSTIN POWERS (shielding his eyes) Ugh!

They walk past a gigantic GREEN PORTAL spitting out WRITHING, GREEN TENTACLES with huge EYEBALLS where their SUCKERS should be. Some of them are holding pens, scribbling beautiful and realistic ILLUSTRATIONS of naked women onto the walls.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D)

Nasty!

CAMEO: They walk past BRUCE VILANCH, sitting completely still on a motor scooter.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (horrified) No!

(MORE)

59.

39 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (pleading to Peter) Make it stop!

They've reached the end of the corridor: a gigantic red door with fancy golden handles. PETER DAOU

Sorry, Austin: this is where we part. All I'm allowed to say is that one day, I was standing where you're standing now. Good luck.

Peter Daou in one swift move unsheathes an ANTIQUE RIFLE from a holster...

AUSTIN POWERS (screaming) No! Don't do it, former Hillary Clinton adviser Peter Daou!

...and blasts himself with a SHOT through the roof of his mouth, causing him to instantly fall over DEAD with a massive gaping wound exposing shattered teeth and brain viscera. Austin is SHOCKED and COMPLETELY CONFUSED. After taking a moment to process, Austin turns to the DOOR and OPENS IT.

40 INT. MANSION - MEETING ROOM

Austin ENTERS and shuts the door behind him. It's a pitch- black room lit only by a series of green OFFICE LAMPS lining

an impossibly long and ornate table. ANONYMOUS VOICE Please, Austin. I'm not sure how much time we have. You need to know the truth.

AUSTIN POWERS

I knew you'd be in here. What is this place, Dougie?

One more light FLICKERS on to reveal Dr Evil is the only other person in the room, sitting at the head of the table.

DR EVIL

You're quite lucky, Mr Powers. Few men have the privilege of seeing this. We are told growing up that leaders live in the White House, or the palaces, or in Canada's case, a surprisingly shitty house. But here you are, in the true corridors of power.

(MORE)

60.

40 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D) The halls of Valhalla made manifest. Here, every important decision of the last 300 years were made by powerful and ruthless people who maintained their power in secret, hiding from the media, the public, and from scrutiny.

As he cites examples, lights FLASH ON to illuminate Renaissance-style PAINTINGS illustrating history.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) The end of slavery. The right to vote. The production of "Green Book." Every crucial decision in history was made here by a covert network of underground operators who secretly controlled our public figures, telling them exactly what to say and do. Within these headquarters, the Panna Cotta was thickened and the cheese was fermented. (beat) Sorry, I skipped lunch. I'm undermining myself. Two years ago, I actually had no clue about any of this. I was relaxing on the shores of the Bahamas, sipping a Mai Tai. I could have gotten used to it. Then I suddenly received news on my flippy that Virtucon's Presidential inquisition had concluded I had a solid chance of winning the next Democratic nomination. I assumed Number Two - God rest his soul - had launched some internal investigation before he left this mortal coil. But after I'd started running, I looked into it. Not a single person in my company knew who had started this covert team. That's because none of them did. By

the time I got blackmailed into co- operating with this crazy cult, it

was too late for 'backsies'. Dr Evil GESTURES around the room.

61.

40 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

And as I discovered earlier tonight when I was brought here in a stretch limo by Donna Brazile, a vast cult of shadow operatives secretly tricked us both into campaigning. They had determined years ago that we would both run for President at the same time.

AUSTIN POWERS

Wait, you were tricked into running for President? This isn't your mansion?

DR EVIL

Ugh, no. Does this look Brutalist to you? Not my taste.

Austin's CONFUSED. He's PROCESSING everything.

AUSTIN POWERS

Okay, let's say you're telling the truth. Why us? Of everyone to pick for this, why pick two brothers?

DR EVIL (confused) Brothers?

AUSTIN POWERS

I mean, half-brothers, but still.

DR EVIL

Oh, right. Huh. I'd forgotten about that. (beat) I mean, let’s be honest, relatively speaking, that's always been a bit of an afterthought.

Dr Evil presses a button. A massive digital display with an insanely detailed flowchart activates on the other side of the room. It has New Yorker style caricatures of Austin and

Dr Evil in the centre, surrounded with detailed cause-and- effect pathways illustrating all the possible ELECTION

OUTCOMES.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Well, as rivals - and brothers, which I honestly forgot about - we were both selected to create the illusion of a false choice for the voting public. (MORE)

62.

40 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

No matter what the outcome, having us be the only two options cuts off any scenario that would threaten what they believe is the natural balance.

ANGLE ON: different possible "outcome" panels on the FLOWCHART. (e.g., "AUSTIN HAS A STROKE AND CEDES OFFICE TO VICE PRESIDENT ELVIS COSTELLO", "DR EVIL LOSES SECOND-TERM ELECTION TO CRAIG MAZIN", etc.) Austin is TAKING it in. A sense of awe at the detail.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Much like the Grammy voters who awarded "Saturday Night Fever" Album of the Year, we are the victims of impossible choices made by cruel machinations beyond our control. If you win the Primary, this cult will have once again effectively installed themselves into complete unquestioned control of humankind as we know it - a leader with no idea what he's doing, sorry. And if I win, I will spend my entire life fleeing the most insidious enemy possible: that which is intangible, attacking from every angle like so many Hydrae. Actually win the election and I would owe these slugs an unpayable life debt, becoming a sock-puppet for their every whim. AUSTIN POWERS (overwhelmed) Is Scott part of all this?

DR EVIL

Your nephew? Yeah, that'd be useful. He'd probably just make a TikTok about this on his JibJab. No, even Scotty doesn't know. AUSTIN POWERS (surprised) Scotty doesn't? DR EVIL (whispering) Don't tell Scotty, Scotty doesn't know.

63.

40 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL tents his fingers and leans in. DR EVIL (CONT'D) I have won a brief moment of privacy for us to discuss the gravity of the situation. We must now come up for air. I have a mutually beneficial win-win-win offer to make that will cut the Knot and please all parties equally.

The lights in the room, in a theatrical flourish, all simultaneously turn off - and a doorway way off in the distance suddenly becomes the only thing visible.

CUT TO:

41 INT. CHAPEL (CONT.)

It's the creepy CHAPEL. The CULT LEADER stands with five- hundred other CULT MEMBERS in a massive CIRCLE, completely

silent. They're surrounding a gigantic GOLDEN STATUE of Austin Powers in the middle of the room that has a gigantic PLATFORM at the top connected to the floor by a GIANT spiral staircase. Austin is clearly uncomfortable.

AUSTIN POWERS (awkwardly, while navigating through crowd) Hey. How's your father. Howdy.

Austin and Dr Evil make their way to the center of the room. Dr Evil ascends a STAIRCASE behind the statue while Austin stays on the ground.

DR EVIL (O.C.) (while climbing stairs) For years our culture has been in the death throes of the 1990s, unable to reconcile the end of history with the onslaught of time. You and I are purgatory manifest. But it's time for us to seize control.

Dr Evil finishes climbing the staircase. DR EVIL (CONT'D) Here's the plan. At the next debate, I'll throw. (MORE)

64.

41 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL (CONT'D)

You'll get a boost in the polls and before a single vote is even cast I'll have been forced to drop out. This cult, you, and I will all get what we want. They get a puppet in

office, you get a shitload of bric- a-brac and free chocolate Milanos

on a daily basis, and I get my life back.

CULT MEMBERS (chanting) PRESIDENT POWERS! PRESIDENT POWERS! Austin starts following Dr Evil up the staircase.

AUSTIN POWERS

So, I'd be President, but I'd have to spend my term following secret orders?

DR EVIL

Oh, ja, like you don't already? Right now you're being told what to do by a government organisation that experiments on children. Real moral high ground there. AUSTIN POWERS

How can you guarantee you'll be able to throw the debate?

DR EVIL

Very simple actually. I’ll go in hard on you to look like I’m trying my best, then just let slip a real doozy about Israel. They’ll be swabbing up my piss all the way up to Vancouver.

Austin makes it to the top of the staircase. Stu is there, TIED up with rope and GAGGED with masking tape.

AUSTIN POWERS (panicked) Stu! Are you okay?

He RIPS the tape off and starts caressing Stu's cheek.

STU (panting, confused) It's nice to see ye.

65.

41 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (beginning to cry) That Valentine's letter... I didn't know you could write like that. You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met.

STU (beginning to cry) I was so worried things wouldn't work out between us. That night you came to see my set was the best night of my life. AUSTIN POWERS

What can I say? I love live comedy. As far as comedy goes, it's my favourite type.

They into into eachothers' eyes, KISS, then briefly MAKE OUT intensely.

DR EVIL

So, Austin, what will you do&emdash; Austin stands up.

AUSTIN POWERS (unsure) Sorry?

DR EVIL

What don't you understand? AUSTIN POWERS

That thing you just said about a dash. What does that mean?

Dr Evil GRASPS Austin's shoulders and briefly THROTTLES him.

DR EVIL

What the purple prose hell are you on about? You need to focus! The debate is tomorrow! You, me, the artist formerly known as Fat Bastard - it's not just us at stake! It's everyone in America! You need to make a decision right now!

HARD CUT TO:

66.

42 EXT. TEXAS SOUTHERN UNIVERSITY - CAMPUS

(PRODUCTION NOTE: This scene in DRAMATIC SLOW-MOTION.) Austin navigates through a gigantic crowd of STUDENTS and CAMPAIGNERS, separated from everyone else by metal CROWD CONTROL GATES. CAMEO: GURU PITKA (also Mike Myers) is on Austin's side of the dividers.

GURU PITKA (meditating) Saira Rao... Saira Rao...

On each side are Austin and Dr Evil's SUPPORTERS, yelling at each other and holding their own protest signs and flyers - e.g., "IF YOU SEE THIS VOTE A-ROCKIN', DON'T COME A KNOCKIN'." vs. "THROW ME A FRICKIN' VOTE HERE!". A DISTRAUGHT Austin smiles and nods at his supporters as he slowly makes his way to the entrance.

DR EVIL (O.S.) (sentimental) I just have to say, no matter what happens in the rest of these primaries, or whatever happens in the general - I am so glad I got to go on this journey. It has truly been the pleasure of a lifetime.

CUT TO:

43 INT. TEXAS SOUTHERN UNIVERSITY - DEBATE STAGE

Dr Evil and Austin are on the DEBATE STAGE. A gigantic banner saying "DEMOCRACY: FLASHPOINT!" hangs over the stage.

DR EVIL (CONT.) (suddenly callous) That is, unless I don't receive the most votes. In which case, I'll obviously regret this entire experience, consider it a waste of my precious time, and be somewhat pissed.

Some of the crowd CHEERS. Dr Evil and Austin are on the debate stage. Sitting at the

moderator's desk in the middle of the crowd is the no- nonsense, dignified statesman CARL FEINSTEIN (played by a

beloved award-winning character actor: think John Travolta).

67.

43 CONTINUED:

CARL FEINSTEIN

To those now joining us, a quick update. The time: 8:05pm. The debaters: Sir Austin Powers and Congressman Evil. The stakes, tensions, and air level above sea water are all high in the room tonight as we join the candidates on what could be the last debate. (beat) Of the primary.

Austin and Dr Evil lock eyes. Dr Evil gives Austin a subtle NOD. Austin gives an almost imperceptible grimace of agreement and NODS back. In a FAKE debate, this flash of recognition between the two feels very REAL. CARL FEINSTEIN (CONT'D) As this may be the last debate, I'd like to ask you both a crucial question the voters have been dying to know the answer to. What is your favourite thing about the other candidate?

DR EVIL (without any hesitation) Pass.

Austin GLARES at Dr Evil.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Oh. I mean, he's, well, very generous to his partners. Seems to be passionate about lovemaking. Can't fault a man who loves to stir the Ragu.

AUSTIN POWERS I'm a consent king, baby! CARL FEINSTEIN

And you, Austin?

AUSTIN POWERS

Dr Evil once introduced me on-stage as the funniest man in New York. It was confusing thing for him to say considering it was our fathers' funeral, but I still appreciated the sentiment.

68.

43 CONTINUED:

CARL FEINSTEIN

Fantastic. Now, Sir Powers, we move to policy. For the last... (holding hand over mouth and mumbling) ...grpmhmfh years, you've never made a public statement about abortion. Do you have anything you'd like to say on this topic now?

Austin and Dr Evil give each other a QUICK GLARE. They've clearly REHEARSED for this. AUSTIN POWERS Uh, of course, baby. (after clearing throat) The time has come for radical change. We need to start doing things differently.

After a beat - the crowd, impressed, APPLAUDS.

DR EVIL (bad play-acting) Oh, yeah, Austin. Big talk. How are you possibly gonna pull that off?

AUSTIN POWERS (equally bad play-acting) Because Americans are tired of settling. When they focus, amazing things can happen. The old ways are not good enough.

The crowd APPLAUDS. Austin looks out, beaming. He's confident until... He sees STU. Standing in the midst of the crowd, his arm bandaged -- DISAPPOINTED. DR EVIL (still play-acting) Oh, wow, such brave words. Reminds me of the so-called bravery of my favoured solution to the Israel / Palestine conflict, which I'm about to eloquently describe, right now...

AUSTIN POWERS (genuinely interrupting) Wait.

69.

43 CONTINUED:

CARL FEINSTEIN Mr Powers? Is something wrong?

DR EVIL (seething) Austin, please. I'm so close to saying my genuine thoughts about some specific geographical borders.

Austin and Stu look at each other again. Stu is now CURIOUS and HOPEFUL. -- SOUND: The musical SCORE starts to slowly rise to a romantic CRESCENDO.

AUSTIN POWERS

Something is wrong, Carl. I haven't been honest with you. Or the American people. DR EVIL (trying to pivot) Hmm, honesty, reminds me of some thoughts I have about a certain group of people, which I'm going to state right this moment... AUSTIN POWERS (annoyed) Oh, please, you natty Belgian. Let me finish.

DR EVIL (now pissed) Sorry, what the fuck did you just say?

Austin turns back to Stu.

AUSTIN POWERS

The most amazing things in my life have happened because I've been honest: with my friends, my partners, even some old enemies. And if I'm going to stand up here, I can't recite some stupid script fed to me. I need to speak from the heart.

-- SOUND: The SCORE suddenly CUTS OFF.

70.

43 CONTINUED:

DR EVIL

Jesus, give a frickin' idiot a clear layup and he does a Bennett. Okay, fine!

Dr Evil, FURIOUS, smashes the lectern, causing the GLASS to crack.

DR EVIL (CONT'D) Do what you want! But don't be a hypocrite! Why did you come onto this stage, then! Tell us the truth! Tell us what you're really doing here!

In a LONG ZOOM OUT, shot from TOP-DOWN à la the famous research scene from "ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN": Austin, ALONE on the debate stage, slowly becomes part of a LARGER and LARGER tapestry. Dr Evil, the endless wires and cables, the screens and monitors, the cameras, the lights, the crowd, the security, etc., all come INTO FRAME. ANGLE ON: STU'S FOLDER and BASIL'S FOLDER, in front of Austin on the LECTERN. Austin instead grabs from inside his coat; a third FOLDER labelled AUSTIN'S FOLDER. He opens it. There's nothing inside it except for a single piece of A4 paper that has printed on it in Times New Roman: "SPEAK FROM THE HEART."

AUSTIN POWERS

The truth is: Dr Evil is right. I didn't get into politics because I wanted to serve the people. I started this campaign because the FBI offered me a gift bag containing an eight-night stay in a lighthouse in the Canary Islands and multiple bath bombs covered in 24-karat gold. But traveling across America has made me realise there's bigger problems in life than not having 10 free personal training sessions with Alexis Seletzky.

There's a quiet CLANGING sound. Something out in the CROWD catches Austin's attention. He looks out and sees: Stu, weak but STANDING UP - and PROUD. Austin SMILES. The rest of Austin's POLYCULE are there too - standing with Stu.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Because during this campaign, I fell in love. I briefly interacted with voters during a montage. I started bleeding out of my penis.

(MORE)

71.

43 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) I saw the FBI experiment on children, which, in retrospect, I've decided that I don't like. And most importantly: I learned that our problems are because of systemic failures perpetuated by a ruling class that has been hidden from normal people for centuries. I used to only live for pussies, and then also bussies, but now, America: I'm here just for you. And the most important thing I can say is: If we want genuine change, and a world where everyone is treated equally and fairly, Dr Evil shouldn't be the President. (dramatic beat) And neither should I. In fact, maybe we shouldn't even have one at all.

AUSTIN takes the stage, ENERGETIC. He's ALIVE. AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) We need to stop justifying human rights abuses and systemic inequality by blaming it on business as usual! Every great civil rights movement in history, from the fight against segregation to the R18 classification being approved for Australian video games, happened because the downtrodden and the oppressed used the only thing that they have the most of in this inhumane system - numbers.

- IN THE CROWD: Stu and the rest of Austin's POLYCULE stand up and start CHEERING.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) (looking down news camera) So stand up! Yes, you! Get out of here now! It's time for revolution! Quit your job! Dismantle the establishment! Steal from a billionaire! Consensually and enthusiastically shag a stranger! Who out there has the conviction to take to the streets, demand a better world, and give power back to the people? (MORE)

72.

43 CONTINUED:

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) Will we stand up and fight for our lives, or stay seated -- and perish?

HARD CUT TO:

44 OVER BLACK

LIVE NEWS REPORTER With all precincts reporting at 100%, we have officially concluded the most overwhelming landslide Presidential election of all time. Winning all 452 statewide delegates with no margin of error, Dr Evil has handily defeated the incumbent and has guaranteed his inauguration next January.

CUT TO:

45 INT. CONDO (NIGHT)

It's 3AM. A bleary-eyed Austin, wearing his BATHROBE, sits alone on a large HOT COUCH, watching the NEWS, holding a half-eaten pint of NON-DAIRY FROZEN DESSERT. Austin gets up, dropping the pint ambivalently as he gets up, and looks out the WINDOW... a REVEAL that Austin's CONDO has been located in SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA this whole time. Austin looks out at the view; the OPERA HOUSE, the HARBOUR BRIDGE, and ULURU all visible simultaneously. He SIGHS and takes it in for a moment. He slowly OPENS the WINDOW - and peacefully, confidently brings up his LEG to the perch...

46 EXT. CONDO ROOFTOP - NIGHT (CONT.)

...and moves through to a STURDY metal STAIRCASE on the other side. Austin climbs it up to the roof. Behind him, MUTED, a video news feed of DR EVIL'S VICTORY SPEECH plays on a video BILLBOARD with the strap "SURPRISE ELECTION: VICTORY SPEECH AT VIRTUCON HQ". Austin, MOROSE, stares out at the view. It's completely SILENT, not another soul around. Behind him on the BILLBOARD, Dr Evil is moving around a LASER POINTER around a detailed and LIFE-ACCURATE map of Jon Stewart's house.

73.

46 CONTINUED:

In the SILENCE there's a loud CREAK from the staircase. Austin, SCARED, turns to see - Stu, wearing a matching BATHROBE and holding a HOT CHOCOLATE.

STU

I heard you were still up. You okay?

AUSTIN POWERS (meek) Long night.

Stu hands Austin the drink and, GRATEFUL, Austin takes a sip.

AUSTIN POWERS (CONT'D) I just feel like I screwed the pooch, baby. It's my fault Dr Evil won. I should have compromised.

STU

Well, to quote the iconic Robin Williams character... AUSTIN POWERS I know, I know, "it's not my fault." STU

Actually I was going to say "hoo,

dearie, at least it wasn't a drive- by fruiting!". But that's true too.

Austin looks up at Stu. A single TEAR starts to ebb from his eyes. Behind them on the BILLBOARD, Dr Evil is getting more and more FURIOUS. Something about it feels FAKE - like Dr Evil is giving a performance of a performance...

AUSTIN POWERS (doubtful) I'm worried. We're going to be harassed by the media for the rest of our lives. The same old powerful people are still in charge. I'll never be able to go back to my Super Mario Galaxy 2 streams and you'll never be able to safely perform at an open mic again. Did I do the right thing? Stu GRABS and HOLDS Austin's hand.

74.

46 CONTINUED:

STU

You did something tough, not because it'd make your life better but because you knew it was the right thing to do. You're the bravest person I've ever known. Austin and Stu embrace on the ROOFTOP. STU (CONT'D)

Besides, as long as I have you, my health, and my brother, I think everything will work out just fine.

(PRODUCTION NOTE: The rest of this final scene shot in one SMOOTH LONG TAKE as a CRANE SHOT, panning vertically up and down the side of Austin's CONDO.) - MUSIC: David Byrne and Brian Eno's "ONE FINE DAY" Austin and Stu slowly SWAY in each others arms on the rooftop. Behind them on the BILLBOARD, Dr Evil cannot handle the SCRUTINY of being on camera. He briefly TURNS AWAY to conceal his face. Although it is not audible on the billboard, the crowd CHEERS. PAN DOWN: In the apartment below, the WINDOW is open. The GUARDIAN REPORTER is sitting on the couch. They hear the DOOR KNOCK and get up to open it. PAN DOWN: Another apartment further below with an open WINDOW. The lights are OFF, no one is home. The camera lingers. PAN UP: The Guardian REPORTER and the HIPSTER are doing a slow dance in front of a LEGO replica of the EIFFEL TOWER, inexplicably wearing COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CLOTHES. PAN DOWN: Back to the empty apartment further below. Just to check. PAN UP: The GUARDIAN REPORTER is wearing COMPLETELY DIFFERENT CLOTHES again. The HIPSTER enters the room holding a BABY. PAN UP: Back to the original setup with Austin and Stu. They're still wearing the same CLOTHES they were at the beginning of the scene. The rest of Austin's POLYCULE has now joined them. They're sitting around in front of a makeshift CAMPING TABLE with a small feast of disposable SUPERMARKET JUNK FOOD laid out in a spread.

75.

46 CONTINUED:

ON THE BILLBOARD BEHIND THEM: Dr Evil finally turns BACK AROUND to face the camera - and us, the audience. An ECU of Dr Evil giving his victory speech gets TIGHTER and TIGHTER until it's framed as close as possible to his face. He is CRYING.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

THE END

47 CREDITS

A black screen. From the bottom of the screen, a list of WHITE TEXT slowly moves upwards that lists people who worked on the movie and what job they did. The list KEEPS GOING until it has named every person who helped.

56 notes · View notes

sukipershipper · 4 years

Note

Have any Head Cannons on how King Quincy and Queen Essence became a couple/married?

...buckleupbuddycauseigotawholestoryforthis.

Long ago, Vibe City was ruled by Mama Bootsy, and King Bobby. The pair of them had seven kids, from youngest to oldest, you had Shiny, Boo, Liz, Jones, Mitzi, Clinton, Draey, Stevie and finally the oldest, Quincy.

Quincy was definitely the smartest when it came to how he was going to run the kingdom, but he lacked knowledge about how to love, he was worried that he was going to never find love and he would disappoint his parents.

To relive his stress, his brothers took him out to a club. While they were there, a group of girl funk trolls were performing, and one of which stood out to Quincy the most, her voice flowed so smoothly and when she belted it, it echoed like no other.

Quincy wanted to find out who the mysterious troll was, so after the show he secretly followed her to see if he could get to know her better. But when he found her, he saw her crying in an alleyway, he asked her to turn around and ask what was wrong. When she turned around, he saw the troll had purple eyes, which back then was seen as a curse or a sign of bad luck. However, Quincy says that he thinks her eyes are beautiful, to which she rejects, saying: “I’ve heard that before, stop tryna make me feel better, why don’t you waste your time tryna get up on some other beautiful woman

To which Quincy responds: (I’m stealing this from you @countrypop-trolls sorry XD) ...*looks around* This might just be my dumbass self speaking but I don’t see no other beautiful trolls round here, except the one right in front of me.

The girl laughs at the dumb joke but smiles nonetheless, and Quincy starts telling her about her voice, how he thinks it sounds like an Angel, The girl is taken aback and says that no one has ever said that once they saw her eyes, to which Quincy responds with: I don’t care about the color of your eyes, I only care about troll you are, the troll you truly are. Then he blindly kisses her cheek but pulls away once he realizes his mistake. The girl just laughs and kisses him back.

Then they finally exchange names, and Quincy learns that her name is Esmerelda, but everyone calls hers Essie instead. The two decide to meet up again at the club in secret the next day and the two go on their merry way.

Soon they meet up more and more and then ask eachother if they’d like to go out, to which they agree. And soon their love is made public, much to the shock and dismay of some of the other residents, but they don’t care, and neither do either of their families. Quincys family are ecstatic that he finally found a partner, and Essies family are happy that she finally found someone who appreciates her for who she is.

Then one day, Quincy and his brothers perform for their families and the rest of the kingdom and he pops the question on stage to her, and she shouts from the crowd: YES!!

Then the next day, the two were wed, and Quincy was appointed King, giving Essie the title of Queen Essence. The two lives a happy life, had two beautiful baby boys, until one was taken away. They raised their only son while searching for the one they lost and were soon reunited with him later in life.

And yeah! That’s basically it!

21 notes · View notes

darylandbethfanforever9 · 4 years

Text

Downfall Of Us All: Chapter 7

Downfall Of Us All

Chapter 7

AN: Thank you, to everyone who is liking the story, and thank you to @jtargaryen18 for encouraging me after a rather unpleasant review.

Warnings: Mentions of past sexual assault, divorce, child loss and PTSD.

"What the hell, Pepper?" Natasha asked shocked, she and Steve had been alerted by Sam and Sharon that Tony and Pepper were arguing. This was not a good day.

Grace had been shown around the compound by Wanda, and she'd decided to head to the gymnasium where the gymnastic equipment was kept. She'd always loved gymnastics, their mother would take them to their nearest artistic gymnastics club where they could train. She smiled at the memory, and looked at herself. She'd changed into a black sports bra with a black tank top over it, and a pair of black cropped leggings. She did a few warm ups, before playing the song. "Pulmon" by Bajofondo/ "Ironside" by Quincy Jones/ "Grand Guignol" by Bajofondo. She took in a few deep breaths, before the music played and she did her first tumble which was a double Arabian. She couldn't help but smile.

It'd been a while, but the landing wasn't bad. She did an easier series, aerial cartwheel, round off, back tuck and couldn't help but dance a little when she stuck the landing perfectly. After another couple of series, she went back to the double Arabian, much happier with that once since she'd warmed up. "Wow." She barely heard Clint over the music until he moved closer. "Not bad. With moves like that, you'll give Nat a run for her money," he said with a grin. He'd changed into t-shirt and shorts, showing off his muscular arms and legs to his advantage. "I don't know about that." Grace felt her face warm at his praise. "Let's see what else you can do," he told her, dropping back into a fighting stance. Grace supposed she was supposed to feel threatened and she did feel a little intimidated – until he winked at her and broke out into a little bit of a dance which had her laughing. "Better," he said when she seemed to relax. Then he returned to the stance. "Now, you ready?" Grace nodded. "Come at me." Clint did just that, coming at her to see what she could do. She blocked the first punch she threw then levelled a kick at his ribs. Clint winced but weathered it, aiming another swing at her which she dodged, but then he caught her with a roundhouse kick and knocked her back. Grace shifted her weight from her hands back to her legs to kick up and she sprung at Clint, going back to her martial arts moves to land a series of blows that he seemed to struggle with and she actually drove him back a little. He smirked at her. "Now you're talking. Again." They sparred for several minutes like that until Clint started to taunt her -- in a good-natured way. After one sequence he strutted, no other way to describe it, over to the wall, grabbing a wooden katana they used for practice. "What are you going to do now?" He asked, challenging her and swinging it to show off his expertise with it. Clint then headed in her direction, meaning business. Grace was proud of herself for being able to weave around his swings, only getting grazed by the wooden weapon once. On the last swing, she realized he'd backed her up against the gymnasium wall. Grace flipped back, clinging to the wall and sending out a web to jerk the weapon out of his hand and into hers. The sound clapping drew her attention to the opposite side of the room where Steve watched from the doorway. "Not bad," he told Grace, moving closer. "You hold yourself well." Clint nodded. "She's not going to be hard to train. She already moves a lot like Nat. We just need to do some fine-tuning."

"I'm not gonna like what this training is, am I?" Grace asked amused, Clint laughed and Steve smiled before he went to check on Bucky and Sophie who had come into the gymnasium. "It's going to a workout, we do it with Peter to keep all of the team fit and quick on their feet." Clint explained to her, as they went to a part of the gymnasium on fighting mats. Grace nodded in understanding, and watched him as he taught her one of the martial arts, that he and the rest of the team would be teaching her and Sophie. She had a good feeling her muscles would be aching like hell, after this rigours workout. But she did need to learn these different fighting techniques, and Clint was a good teacher.

Sophie had been sweating by the time Bucky and she had finished training, he'd been fighting her on the training mats. She could feel beads of sweat dripping down her back, and took a sip of her bottled water. She walked over to the uneven bars, and did a glide to kip for her mount before doing a seat circle backwards for a pirouette. She then did a stalder backwards with half turn to reverse/L-grip, hearing Grace cheering for her. This was bringing back happy memories of her childhood, when she and Grace would go to gymnastics while their parents were busy, and would make friends. She then took in a deep breath, and did the Endo, with a half turn. Sophie then did a handstand and then jumped to the lower bar again. She could feel the adrenaline burning through her, like fire. She then did a piked stalder with half turn, to a regular grip. For her release moves, she did a free straddle over the high bar with a half turn. She could hear Grace cheering for her, with Peter yelling out encouragement. She then did a layout Geigner, feeling the wind blow on her face, without any hesitation, she did a cast with salto forward straddled. She could hear someone cheering. "Holy shit, she and Grace are like Natasha when it comes to gymnastics, ballet and dance," Tony said dumbfounded, and awe in his voice. Sophie took in a deep breath, and performed the stalder to piked reverse hecht, over the high bar. She felt completely at ease doing this, like nothing could hurt her. She did the toe-on to layout reverse hecht, over the high bar and did two handstands and another pirouette. She then did the stalder with grip change to the low bar, she felt like someone was recording her training session. Not that she minded. She then did the Shaposhnikova with half turn, and for her dismount she did the salto backwards straight with a twist, hearing people cheer.

Bucky watched in amazement as Sophie effortlessly performed uneven bar moves, and reminded him strongly of soviet gymnasts, that he'd seen. He clapped with the others, as she performed her dismount. She offered them all a shy smile, as Grace and Peter came over to compliment her. He could tell she was shy, but also happy. "Damn, she's good. You better watch yourself, Romanoff." Tony joked, Natasha looked at him in amusement.

"We had similar backgrounds," Nat said with a smirk. "I think I'll work with Bucky and Clint in their training. I have a few moves that I can teach them." Bucky had to grin at that. "You do." "You sure you're good with this, Tin Man?" Tony asked Bucky, but his usual snark wasn't there. He nodded. In truth, he was concerned as he watched Sophie embrace her sister, happily chat with Peter for a moment. Sophie was beautiful and thankfully not as much a broken mess as he himself was. But given her parents' stories and the things they'd kept hidden from their daughters, they watched their world darken a little each day with each new discovery. Bucky was surprised he'd been entrusted with Sophie's training. He knew Steve had been pleased and likely had everything to do with it, wanting to build his confidence in his ability to do good. But what if he failed her? What if they lost her because of something he failed to teach her? And why the hell did she have to look at him as she did? The contempt, the tolerance he read in most people's faces when he encountered them? That he could handle. He knew where he'd been and what he'd done and that was always going to be a part of him. The people here, this team, the kindness and acceptance he'd earned from most of them, even Tony Stark himself, evened it all out. Sophie's gaze on him? She looked at him like he was sort of hero, someone to admire. What had he done to earn that? Particularly from someone who was anything but trusting and naïve. While there was pressure to not let the team down after they'd given him this task, it was nothing compared to the trust he read in those gentle eyes. Trust he'd not earned. After everything he'd been through, letting down this one broken woman just might be the thing that finally tore him down. "He's got this," Steve said reaching them, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "But yeah, it makes sense for you to help out, Nat. Good call." Tony nodded, heading off towards the weights. "Good luck, kids." "Tony's worrying me," Nat told him and Steve, shaking her head. "He's almost nice. I just don't know what to do with him like this." Steve hummed his agreement. "I know. I hope he's going to be okay. I just can't believe Pepper left him like that." "She doesn't deserve him then," Sophie said joining their group. "I'm sure it's difficult to worry about all of the dangers he faces. But you'd think she would have been proud of him. Supportive." "Agreed," Nat told her. Shaking it off, Nat put her hand on Sophie's shoulder, steering her between herself and Bucky. "You up for a little more training today?" Sophie grinned, shrugged. "I'll be feeling it tomorrow but sure. Why not?" "Good attitude," Nat told her. "Given what I've seen so far today, I'm going to show you something new. You game?" Sophie looked intrigued and just a little worried. When she glanced at Bucky, he nodded his approval. He had a feeling he knew what Nat was about to do. Stepping around Sophie, Nat took on a fighting stance and Bucky stepped up. Nat did just what he thought she was going to do, she got in a couple of shots then used her scissor takedown on him which he allowed. Taking a knee as Nat finished the move, Bucky glanced back to see that Sophie was very interested in this. The fact that Grace and Peter watched with Steve off to the side showed she wasn't alone. They went through the sequence with Sophie, both Nat and Bucky correcting her form here and there, but it didn't take a lot. Still, when Nat prompted her to run through it with Bucky, Sophie hesitated. He understood why but he didn't want her afraid of him. "It's okay," Bucky told her, "It's not like you're going to be able to hurt me, doll." Sophie's demeanour shifted from intimidation to determination at that, showing him a motivator to use for her. He'd challenged her and if he knew anything about her so far, it was that she was very proud. Dropping into her stance, Sophie stared him down and he was pleased with that. She hit him hard, which was also good, managing to get her form correct and even pulling him off balance. He could've played along and gone down, but something told him it would be a mistake. She wouldn't want him to help her. When Sophie pulled away, her jaw was locked. "Can I try that again?" Nat nodded as if she expected no less. Bucky waited. Again, she hit hard and fast. The second time was even better. After several tries, she showed real promise. Nat quirked a brow at Bucky when Sophie decided she'd had enough for one day. "You did well," he told her. "I did okay." Sophie was clearly not happy with it. "It takes time to master," Nat told her. "You'll get there. Bucky's not easy to take down." "I know," Sophie smirked at him over her shoulder. Oh, that shouldn't have messed with his insides as it did. "Shit!" Peter shrieked from the mat next to them. They watched Grace execute the same move, taking Peter down easily to the mat. Clint was nearly doubled over laughing and Steve cracked up as Peter tried to jump back up before anyone saw. "Not bad," Nat told her. "I need to make a couple of adjustments but nicely done, Grace." Peter's face flushed red. "No fair!" he told her laughing. "I didn't know you were going to do... that!" "You've never had someone use that move on you?" Nat asked him. Peter shook his head. "Not so far." "Shouldn't you learn how to deal with it?" Clint threw in. Peter looked from Clint to Nat and back again. "I guess but…" Nat looked like she was going to head for Peter who put out a hand. "Nope! Not today." They all laughed as he sprinted out of the gym, nearly running Tony down as he headed out.

"Shower up, then we'll cook dinner for tonight. It's been a long day, and we'll continue training in the morning," Steve said amused, everyone nodded and headed to their bedroom to wash up.

Clint threw his t - shirt and shorts into the washing machine, before heading to the bathroom. He turned on the hot water, and sighed in relief as the water soothed his aching muscles. He felt impressed by Grace, she'd been fearless during the training session today. And he'd been impressed by her fighting against him, she was a tough young woman. He washed his skin quickly, before washing his sweat soaked hair before turning off the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist, before opening the bathroom door. He sighed quietly, and dried himself before getting changed into a pair of fresh jeans, after putting his boxers on, and a grey t-shirt, before putting on some boots. Clint shut the bedroom door, and headed to the kitchen where the others were making dinner. Tonight's speciality was homemade southern fried chicken, with chips. Sophie and Grace had volunteered to make dessert, and Clint could smell it from where he was standing. It smelt amazing, and he walked to where Natasha was. "Damn, the food smells good." Clint said impressed, feeling his stomach growl in hunger, and causing Natasha to laugh. "They're making a Kiev cake, it should be done in two hours. They just want to make sure the meringue is fine, and they got the batter right." Natasha explained, as they saw the two women place the cake tin in the oven. "The chicken, and chips are done." Sam announced, and began serving out plates as everyone eagerly took the food, along with a drained looking Tony. They sat around the table enjoying the food, and Clint sat beside Grace as he tucked into his meal, with Lucky eating out of his dog bowl with a bowl of water beside him. That was when he saw the six cats all eating their food, all of their tails were swishing happily. Sam had given them, and Lucky the fatty bits of raw chicken which they were tearing into. It felt nice, like the team was a family as Scott Lang Skyped them from his place where he resided with his daughter, and Hope, not to mention Hank and Hope.

Pepper didn't feel guilty for leaving Tony, she'd signed the divorce papers and sent them to Tony for him to sign. She just couldn't cope with his life as an Avenger anymore. She exited Stark Tower, and was about to enter her car when she felt like someone was watching her. Dismissing it, she was about to unlock her car when a leather gloved hand slammed over her mouth. She felt her body going numb, when the man injected her with a needle. She felt her body slump against him, and the man calmly carried her to where an armoured van was. He strapped her in, and texted to the unknown number quickly. 'Extraction successful.'

Grace could hear someone falling off the bed, and rushed out of her bedroom to realise the noise was coming from Clint's bedroom. She cautiously entered, and saw nothing. That was until a rough, calloused hand grabbed her by the throat, pinning her to the wall. Thinking quickly, she kicked out and knocked him backwards. "Clint?" She asked wearily, she saw Clint looking wearily at her before his eyes refocused on her. "Grace....did I hurt you?" He asked worriedly, guilt in his voice and she shook her head as she saw he had bloody knuckles. She quietly went to the bathroom, and came out with a first aid kit. "No, you didn't hurt me. Believe me, I've had worse," Grace reassured softly, and Clint sighed quietly as she bathed his bloody, bruised knuckles. Lucky laid next to him, and he let the dog's presence comfort him, as Grace tended to his cuts. "I had a nightmare, I've been having them ever since....Laura revealed the truth. My mind's been a mess, since then." Clint admitted quietly, Grace looked at him quietly. "I have nightmares too, you know. You're not alone, I'm always back at that castle where HYDRA held me prisoner." She revealed hesitantly, causing Clint to realise something. She understood what he was going through.

Clint sat at the end of his bed, Lucky at his feet. Dropping his head in his hands, he exhaled. "Grace, I just… Why? That's the part I just don't understand." Blinking back tears, he flinched at first when she sat down next to him, wrapping a slim arm around his waist. "I'm a spy. I understand going undercover and gathering intel. I've done it for years. I just don't understand the lengths that they went to. That she went to. Why pretend to love me? For years? Why have children and pretend to love them?" "Clint," she whispered, smoothing her hand over his back. "I wish I had an answer for you. That's just unimaginably cruel." "It haunts me," his voice was about to break. "I loved them so much. I had no idea every time I was away, the danger I left them in. She could have killed them at any time, Grace. She could have hurt them. I…" "Don't torture yourself about that," she said gently. "What actually happened is bad enough." "I loved them. I loved them. Why couldn't I have kept them? Why?" Clint raised his head, tears sliding down his face. "I miss them, you know?" Grace's own eyes stung with tears. "I miss Zach too. I know how you feel." Clint sniffled. "There's a chance we might get Zach back," he told her. "I've… I hope you don't mind but I've asked Tony for his help. He's really good at tracking things and people down. Maybe…" "You did that for me?" She wanted to know. "Of course," he told her, trying to smile. "If he's out there, Tony will find him, Grace. Besides, he needs something to keep his mind occupied right now." Grace wrapped her arms around him, holding him close and for long moments they stayed there, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the other. "What Laura did," Grace finally said, "wasn't your fault. There wasn't anything you could have done, Clint. I know you won't let yourself believe that, but it's true. You're so hard on yourself." He huffed a laugh. "That's what Nat says. I try to remember that. I do. And I know I'll be able to process things better once some time has passed. And once I find her." "Laura?" He nodded. "What do you plan to do?" Grace asked quietly. "I'm going to pay her back for Lila and for Cooper. I'm going to pay her back for being a lying, deceiving, and cold-hearted bitch. I'm going to make her regret that she ever crossed my path. And Rumlow…" Grace froze. "Rumlow?" Clint nodded. "Laura was working with him the whole time." "Clint, do you –" "I know," he told her, pulling up and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his side. "I know who he is to you, Grace. And I'm going to make him pay for that too." It wasn't until that moment, with Grace trembling against him, that he considered just how tightly their fates were woven together with Brock Rumlow being a common factor in the heartbreak they'd both been forced to survive. "Shhh," he whispered against her head. "I'm sorry I even said that name. You're here trying to comfort me and I just…" Grace shook her head against his chest. "It's okay. I know he's out there. I know there's a good chance I'll have to even… face him. I just…" Her heart was beating so hard, a tiny tattoo against him. "Clint, I'm… afraid. I'm so afraid of him," she admitted. "Don't be." Pressing a kiss into her hair, he willed her to relax. "We'll stop him. We won't let him hurt anyone else, Grace." When she snuggled closer, he chuckled. "Since we're comfortable, want to pick something on Netflix to watch and hang out? I don't see myself being able to go back to sleep." Grace nodded, still not letting go. "Me either." She squeaked when he scooped her up, walked back to the top of the bed and sat her down in the middle. Somehow she looked so small in her t-shirt and sleep shorts. With everything she'd been through, was going through, how could she even smile up at him as she was?

"Do you have popcorn?" She asked. Clint thought about that. "No, but I have an idea. We'll go raid the kitchen." He knew she liked that idea when she bounded off the bed. "But we'll have to be quiet. Covert." Grace tried to make a serious expression which only had her laughing more. "Forget it." Clint shook his head and laughed. "We get caught, I'm totally blaming you." "Excuse me?" She asked playfully. "Come on." Opening his door, they headed up the hall, trying to be quiet and not awaken any of the others in their mission for popcorn and junk food.

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Tagging list: @jtargaryen18, @marvelfansworld, @sapphirescrolls, @kitkatd7 and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork, and @nomadicpixel

#Hawkeye Fanfiction #Ronin Fanfiction #Clint Barton Fan Fiction #Clint Barton x OC #Winter Soldier Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x OC

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blackkudos · 4 years

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Thomas Whitfield

Thomas Anthony Whitfield (April 30, 1954 – June 20, 1992) was an American gospel singer, songwriter, arranger, pianist, choir director and producer best known for helping to shape the fabric of contemporary gospel music with his elaborate choral arrangements and the merging of musical styles ranging from jazz to classical into traditional gospel foundations. This style earned him the respectable title of "Maestro" by many of his colleagues and supporters. He was best known for organizing one of the popular contemporary gospel choirs of all time, the Thomas Whitfield Company, and for producing best-selling records for Vanessa Bell Armstrong, Shirley Caesar, Yolanda Adams, Douglas Miller, Keith Pringle, Paul Morton and for Aretha Franklin.

Biography

Early years and career

Thomas Whitfield, the eldest of five boys, was born in Detroit, Michigan to Thomas and Jacqueline Whitfield. He took to music at a very early age and was inspired by his great-grandmother to take piano lessons at the age of five and would advance to playing the organ by the age of ten. His influences remained some of Detroit's greatest musicians including renowned organist Herbert Pickard and Timothy Beard. After graduating from Detroit's Central High School, he attended the Detroit Conservatory of Music and ended up sharing his expertise and knowledge as a music instructor at Finney High School. While teaching, Whitfield continued to gain recognition in the area for his unique style of musicianship and would eventually work with the Beverly Glenn Chorale, the Craig Brothers and Rev. James Cleveland.

In 1977, Whitfield, along with his good friend Tyrone Hemphill, felt led in establishing The Thomas Whitfield Company (The Whitfield Company for short); a local music ministry featuring some of Detroit's finest singers and musicians. This remarkable institution remained the apparent incubator for most of Whitfield's most popular creations and would forever be attached to his musical legacy and recording career. Amazingly, it didn't take long for Whitfield to get the attention and overdue recognition he deserved. Sound of Gospel, a local Detroit gospel music subsidiary of Westbound Records operated by music guru Armen Boladian, took notice in Whitfield's fresh sound and approach to gospel music and signed him and the group thereafter; resulting in the debut release of "Brand New" in 1978. Detroit's sophisticated brand of traditional gospel crafted by artists such as Dr. Mattie Moss Clark, Donald Vails, Rev. Charles Nicks and Rev. James Cleveland remained the prominent and popular style from the area and was usually the formula the majority of the country expected from the region. Whitfield, on the other hand, merged traditional gospel with stylish piano performances, riveting rhythmic sections, melodic choral harmonies and musical arrangements. This style is heard on "Repeat The Sounding Joy", a funk-disco melding which ended up being one of his early hits, and other works including "The Lord Is Blessing Me", "I'm His Today" and "That's How The Lord Works".

The big break: Hallelujah Anyhow

After getting local attention with the releases of "Brand New" and "Things That We Believe, Vol. I" and "Things That We Believe, Vol. II" during the years of 1978–1980, Whitfield recorded his first live recording session (a popular trend in modern gospel music) with the Company at the St. Paul Church of God In Christ in Detroit. The album was finally released in 1983. At the same time, Whitfield began his association with Onyx International Records (a black gospel subsidiary of Benson Records) and also released "Hold Me"; a solo project that seemed to be threatening towards SOG's current contract with the Whitfield Company. While "Hold Me" was released on a more recognized label and was by far one of Whitfield's state-of-the-art productions to date, it also help increased the popularity and exposure of "Hallelujah Anyhow" and kept the album on Billboard's Gospel Music charts for over a year.

The understanding of the agreement with both music labels was that Whitfield recorded "Hold Me" as a solo entry while SOG was mainly interested in Whitfield being attached to the choir; feeling that his choir was the "selling card". SOG continued to record them as: Min. Thomas Whitfield & the Thomas Whitfield Company. Whitfield wrote most of the songs (except for "Soon As I Get Home" and "There's Not A Friend" – written by Roscoe Corner) and produced both projects. Songs like "God Wants Our Praises", "There's Not A Friend", "Walk In The Light", the infectious arrangement of "Oh, How I Love Jesus" and the brilliant ballad "Hallelujah Anyhow" were standouts.

Whitfield began a line of notable achievements in producing for both established and fresh talent. In 1984, Whitfield produced the historic debut project Peace Be Still, for a virtual unknown singer at the time by the name of Vanessa Bell Armstrong; earning him his first of three GRAMMY nominations. That year, he also wrote "Time To Come Back Home" for Shirley Caesar's GRAMMY and Dove Award winning "Sailin" album. Whitfield's popularity and demand continued to escalate – possibly pointing that he may have reached the beginning of his recording zenith. Production on projects from the Soul Children of New Orleans, Keith Pringle, Douglas Miller, the Winans, the Michael Fletcher Chorale and Paul S. Morton followed. In 1986, "I'm Encouraged" was released; a live recording session held at the Civic Auditorium in Cleveland, Ohio. The project climbed to the #1 spot on Billboard's Top Gospel Album charts.

During Whitfield's final years with Sound of Gospel, Whitfield discovered Texas native Yolanda Adams and produced her first project Just As I Am for the Detroit label in 1988 which skyrocketed up Billboard's Gospel charts.

An opportunity of a lifetime was awarded to Whitfield when the Queen of Soul Aretha Franklin confronted him with the task to head the musical direction for her upcoming live recording – a project that the media labeled the sequel to her best-selling and award-winning "Amazing Grace" LP. In 1989, Aretha Franklin took home a GRAMMY Award for Best Soul Gospel Performance, Female for "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism" and a Dove Award for Traditional Gospel Album of the Year – an album that featured musical and choral arrangements from Thomas A. Whitfield. Some of the album's serious highlights include the moving opener of "Walk In The Light" and Aretha Franklin being serenaded by Whitfield's entrancing piano accompaniment on "Ave Maria".

Later years

In 1989, Teresa Hairston (head of Benson Music Group's black gospel department) contacted Whitfield and expressed interest in signing him, along with the Whitfield Company to her label. SOG released two successful projects ("The Annual Christmas Services", "...And They Sang A Hymn") in 1990, while Whitfield went into the studio to record "My Faith" for Benson. The project contained the Edwin Hawkins' composition "Glorify The Lord" and featured musical appearances from Vanessa Bell Armstrong and Karen Clark-Sheard (from the renowned Clark Sisters). In 1992, Benson released what would be Whitfield's last recording, "Alive And Satisfied". The album, to so many gospel music historians, felt like a prophecy and a "love letter" to Whitfield's presence in the gospel music industry. The album featured the moving praise-and-worship ballad "Precious Jesus", "Let Everything Praise Him" (which features the popular sampled vamp used in a number of recent gospel selections) and the reflective "We Remember (Medley)". The medley featured some of Whitfield's most treasured classics strung together in one song. By this time, Whitfield had already been contacted by Paramount Pictures to appear in the motion picture Leap of Faith, starring Steve Martin. He eventually turned down the offer; feeling that even though the visibility was good yet he felt it might diminish the dignity of his ministry. He also began work with music mogul Quincy Jones' "Handel's Messiah: A Soulful Celebration" – a powerful display of modern musical arrangements mostly handled by Mervyn Warren.

Death

On June 20, 1992, after a lengthy choir rehearsal, Whitfield went with four of the choir members to Elias Brother's Big Boy; a popular local restaurant on Telegraph Road. At the table, he started to clutch his chest and began to gasp for air. After being administered CPR by his dinner companions and arriving at Garden City Hospital, Whitfield died on June 21, 1992 from a heart attack.

Legacy

Whitfield's musical brilliance and influence has left a tremendous impact on today's leading contemporary gospel artists. Musicians such as protégé' Rudolph Stanfield, Donald Lawrence, Fred Hammond, John P. Kee, Byron Cage, Ricky Dillard, J.J. Hairston & Youthful Praise, Walter Hawkins, Richard Smallwood, Big Jim Wright, Edward Dawson and many others. He is still highly regarded for his numerous innovations during the eighties and early nineties and being one of the pioneers to master the usage of the MIDI-sequencing and synthesizers in gospel music; all helping to earn him his own style: the "Whitfield" sound.

In 1993, Benson Records released a tribute album dedicated to the memory and musical excellence of Thomas Whitfield. It featured new arrangements from Whitfield hits and featured a list of musical guests and musicians including Donald Lawrence, the Clark Sisters, Fred Hammond, Kevin Bond, Larry & David Whitfield and the Whitfield Company.

Thomas Whitfield was honored posthumously with the 1999 James Cleveland Award at the 14th Annual Stellar Music Awards held in Atlanta, Georgia.

The Thomas Whitfield Company has continued to perform and record since their founder passed and are ensuring to keep Whitfield's legacy alive. They have recorded "Still", a Top Ten gospel album, and featured new and rare selections from Whitfield, along with music from former Whitfield musician Rudolph Stanfield. The song, "Don't Give Up On Jesus", sung by Daryl Coley and Vanessa Bell Armstrong also appeared on the best-selling WOW Gospel 1999 compilation.

Larry and David Whitfield, brothers of the "Maestro", decided to organize the Whitfield Group (not to be confused with the Whitfield Company) in January 1994. Since their inception, the music troupe has recorded one project and have opened for artists including Yolanda Adams, Vanessa Bell Armstrong, Men of Standard and Kim Burrell.

There have been a number of artists that have sung Whitfield's praises and have re-recorded his music. Some of the most memorable tributes include:

Shirley Murdock "We Need A Word From The Lord" ("Home")

Vickie Winans "We Need A Word From The Lord" ("Bringing It All Together")

Edwin Hawkins Music and Arts Seminar Mass Choir "Precious Jesus" ("Dallas")

Bishop Paul S. Morton "Down At The Cross" and "Nothing But The Blood"("Still Standing")

Tarralyn Ramsey "Saved" ("Tarralyn Ramsey")

Donald Lawrence/Tri-City Singers "The Little Drummer Boy" ("Hello Christmas")

Byron Cage "Still Say Yes" ("Prince Of Praise")

Byron Cage "In Case You've Forgotten" ("An Invitation To Worship")

The Clark Sisters "You Can't Take My Faith Away" ("A Tribute To The Maestro")

Earnest Pugh "Wrapped Up, Tied Up, Tangled Up" ("A Worshipper's Perspective")

Donald Vails featuring Yvette Flunder and Shirley Miller "Just Knowing Jesus" ("My Soul Love Jesus")

Rodney Posey "Dear Jesus" ("Live In Praise & Worship with the Whitfield Company")

Mark S. Hubbard & the Voices "Lift Those Hands And Bless Him" (featuring Ted & Sheri) ("Blessin' Waitin' On Me)

Dr. Ed Montgomery/ALC "With My Whole Heart" (Total Live Experience")

Benson Records released a rare VHS "Alive And Satisfied" video of Thomas Whitfield and the Whitfield Company. The video also features an award presentation to Whitfield for his record going gold and also an emotional tribute from Fred Hammond. BMG Heritage Records has also re-released a double-CD of Aretha Franklin's "One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism" (1987) in 2003. The album featured four new bonus cuts including a previously unreleased version of Walter Hawkins' classic "Be Grateful".

Discography

Albums:

Brand New (1978)

Things That We Believe, Vol. I (1979)

Things That We Believe, Vol. II (1980)

Hold Me (1983)

Halleujah Anyhow (1984) #15

I'm Encouraged (1986) #1

The Annual Christmas Services (1988)

...And They Sang A Hymn (1989) #2

My Faith (1990) #30

Alive And Satisfied (1992) #2

Hold On (2000) #8

Compilations:

The Unforgettable Years, Vol. One (1992)

The Unforgettable Years, Vol. Two (1992)

The Best Of Thomas Whitfield (1999)

#04/30 #06/20

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swisscgny · 4 years

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MEET MATHIEU JATON

CEO, MONTREUX JAZZ FESTIVAL

Founded in 1967 by Claude Nobs and nestled between the breathtaking shores of Lake Geneva and the terraced vineyards of the Lavaux region, the Montreux Jazz Festival has become a world renowned event welcoming 250,000 spectators each summer and presenting artists of nearly every imaginable music style. For the first time in its 54-year history, the Montreux Jazz Festival announced its cancellation last month, with an eerie “A Silent Shore in 2020… See you in 2021!” on its social media channels. We caught up with festival CEO Mathieu Jaton to discuss the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on the festival and the artists, as well as the new challenges facing music festivals and the music industry as a whole.

The Montreux Jazz Festival is one of the world’s largest and longest-running jazz festivals. It has not missed a single year since it first took place in 1967. What are the implications of this year’s cancellation, for the festival, the artists and the region?

The cancellation of the 54th edition of the festival has resulted in significant losses. Most of the festivals and events have been cancelled. Young as well as established artists find themselves in precarious situations. Even though short-term solutions are being explored in collaboration with the cantonal and federal authorities, doubts about the future remain. With economic spinoffs from the festival in the amount of approximately 60 million, the impact for shops, restaurants and the hotel industry is considerable. Overall, the pandemic has had terrible consequences for the industry and the region.

What does a summer, potentially beyond that, without festivals mean for the music industry as a whole? What new challenges are you faced with?

A summer without festivals makes us rethink how music is experienced, and how it can be experienced without people getting together, for example through a virtual event. This new challenge forces us to re-examine how we want to see the very notion of the concert and festival evolve, taking into account social distancing while still being a pleasurable experience for the artist and the audience.

“Montreux Jazz is for people who really love music. It starts with that, everything else is secondary. Which is rare nowadays.” Jack White

The Montreux Jazz Festival recently made available a selection of 50 concerts online, including performances by legendary artists such as Ray Charles, Nina Simone and Marvin Gaye. Will you be sharing more performances from the festival’s extraordinary archives in the future?

Providing free access to 50 concerts online was a first initiative to allow fans to experience live music from their home. We are constantly searching for new ways to make the unique legacy of the festival, including its audiovisual archive, available on our digital platforms.

Before the pandemic, you had been working on further developing some of your initiatives and programs. Please tell us more about them!

With pleasure! We have developed a kind of ecosystem over the years that enables us to face these particular times with an array of components bigger than the festival itself: the Montreux Jazz Artists Foundation, a non-profit foundation for emerging talent and music outreach, Montreux Media Ventures, which develops tailor-made music experiences and content projects for clients and partners, and Montreux Jazz International, an international brand development company.

“You can’t describe it, words don’t do it justice. You just have to come and experience it.” Quincy Jones

Do you have a New York story you would like to share with us?

One of the first international trips I made with Claude Nobs was to New York. It really made me understand the powerful and far-reaching impact of the Montreux Jazz Festival and Claude’s achievements and legacy. As a matter of fact, it blew my mind! The rhythm of our days at the hotel was marked by the visits of great American artists dropping by to speak to us about their upcoming concerts and projects at the Festival.

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Video: Grégoire Maret - "The Gospel" Live at the Montreux Jazz Festival

In this week’s edition of SWISS + CULTURE + ONLINE we are also featuring a music playlist curated by acclaimed Swiss jazz harmonica player Grégoire Maret, whom you previously invited to the festival. What do you admire most about him?

We admire Grégoire’s career, as a Swiss artist who has managed to establish himself in the United States and be recognized internationally. He has this unique ability to convey his vision of music and create amazing collaborations.

LISTEN to Grégoire Maret’s SwissSounds playlist here.

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upontheshelfreviews · 4 years

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Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general. And if I may be self-indulgent for a moment, it’s also one of the reviews that I’m the proudest of. Fantasia is a visual, emotional masterpiece that marries music and art in a manner few cinematic ventures have come close to replicating. One question that remains is what my thoughts on the long-gestated sequel is –

…you might wanna get yourselves some snacks first.

As anyone who read my review on the previous film knows, Fantasia was a project ahead of its time. Critics and audiences turned their noses up at it for conflicting reasons, and the film didn’t even make it’s budget back until twenty-something years later when they began marketing it to a very different crowd.

“I don’t wanna alarm you dude, but I took in some Fantasia and these mushrooms started dancing, and then there were dinosaurs everywhere and then they all died, but then these demons were flying around my head and I was like WOOOOOAAAHHH!!”

“Yeah, Fantasia is one crazy movie, man.”

“Movie?”

Fantasia’s unfortunate box office failure put the kibosh on Walt Disney’s plans to make it a recurring series with new animated shorts made to play alongside handpicked favorites. The closest he came to following through on his vision was Make Mine Music and Melody Time, package features of shorts that drew from modern music more than classical pieces.

Fast-forward nearly fifty years later to the golden age known as the Disney Renaissance: Walt’s nephew Roy E. Disney surveys the new crop of animators, storytellers, and artists who are creating hit after hit and have brought the studio back to his uncle’s glory days, and thinks to himself, “Maybe now we can make Uncle Walt’s dream come true.” He made a good case for it, but not everyone was on board. Jeffrey Katzenberg loathed the idea, partly because he felt the original Fantasia was a tough act to follow (not an entirely unreasonable doubt) but most likely due to the fact that the last time Disney made a sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, it drastically underperformed (even though the reasons for that are entirely Katzenberg’s fault. Seriously, watch Waking Sleeping Beauty and tell me you don’t want to punch him in the nose when Mike Gabriel recalls his opening weekend phone call).

Once Katzenberg was out of the picture, though, Fantasia 2000, then saddled with the less dated but duller moniker Fantasia Continued, got the go-ahead. Many of the sequences were made simultaneously as the animated features my generation most fondly remembers, others were created to be standalone shorts before they were brought into the fold. Since it was ready in time for the new millennium, it not only got a name change but a massive marketing campaign around the fact that it would be played on IMAX screens for a limited run, the very first Disney feature to do so. As a young Fantasia fan who had never been to one of those enormous theaters before, I begged and pleaded my parents to take me. Late that January, we traveled over to the IMAX theater at Lincoln Center, the only one nearest to us since they weren’t so widespread as they are now, and what an experience it was. I can still recall the feeling of awe at the climax of Pines of Rome, whispering eagerly with my mom at how the beginning of Rhapsody in Blue looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch, and jumping twenty feet in the air when the Firebird’s massive eyes popped open. But did later viewings recapture that magic, or did that first time merely color my perception?

We open on snippets from the original Fantasia…IN SPAAAAAAAAACE!

It reminds me a little of the opening to Simply Mad About The Mouse, where bits of classic Disney nostalgia fly about to evoke the mood of this upcoming musical venture. In a clever conceit, snippets of Deems Taylor’s original opening narration explaining Fantasia’s intent and music types plays over the orchestra and animators materializing and gearing up for the first sequence, which jumps right into –

DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUN – I mean, Symphony #5 – Ludwig Van Beethoven

Here, a bunch of butterflies flee and then fight off swarms of bats with the power of light – I can’t be the only one who saw these things and thought it was butterflies vs. bats, right?

It does look cool with its waterfalls and splashes of light and color bursting through the clouds, but this brings me to a bit of contention I have with the movie.

When I planned this review I was going to do a new version of “Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing”, except there were only four major complaints I could think of that. On further introspection, I admit they are legitimate grievances worth addressing. I’m going to get them out of the way all at once in order to keep things rolling.

#1 – This Seems Familiar…

Certain sequences are noticeably derivative from the first movie. It’s as if they were afraid of trying too many new things that would alienate audiences so they borrowed from their predecessor in an effort to say “Hey, we can do this too!” Symphony #5 is clearly trying to be Tocatta and Fugue with its abstract geometric shapes swooping all over to kick things off. Though I love how much character the animators managed to give two pairs of triangles, Tocatta’s soaring subconscious flights of fancy leaves me more enthralled. Carnival of the Animals literally began as a sequel to Dance of the Hours until the ostriches became flamingoes. And Roy E. Disney openly stated he wanted the last sequence, The Firebird Suite to have the same death and rebirth theme as Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, which they got, right down to a terrifying symbol of destruction emerging from a mountain to wreak chaos.

‘Sup, witches?

#2 – Too Short

Speaking of repeating the past, the original idea for Fantasia 2000 was to follow Walt’s vision in that three favorite segments would make a return amongst the newer ones – the Nutcracker Suite, which was eventually cut for time, Dance of the Hours, which I’ve already stated morphed into Carnival of the Animals, and finally, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the obvious choice to keep since that’s the most popular piece out of any of them. Cutting things for time doesn’t make that much sense, however, when you realize that Fantasia 2000’s runtime is only 75 minutes. A very short animated film by today’s standards that lasts barely half as long as its previous installment. I don’t see why they couldn’t keep at least one other sequence from the first Fantasia to make things last a little longer and keep in the original idea’s spirit.

#3 – All Story, No Experimentation

Unlike the first Fantasia, all of the sequences have a linear narrative structure that’s easy to follow. Not a bad thing and kudos to you if you’re among that group who prefers Fantasia 2000 for because of that, but again, I admire how the original film didn’t stick to a coherent story the whole time; how it was unafraid to let the music, atmosphere, and visuals speak for itself without sticking to a three-act plot and designated protagonist for every piece.

#4 – The One You’ve Been Waiting For, The Host Segments

One of the things that turned Fantasia off for its detractors was Deems Taylor’s seemingly dry narration. But maybe Fantasia 2000 can fix that with some folks who are hip and with it, perhaps a wild and crazy guy or two…

Eh, he’ll do.

Now, the idea of varying segment hosts isn’t an altogether bad idea. Most of them work well: Angela Lansbury gives the lead-in to the Firebird Suite plenty of gravitas befitting the finale, as do Ithzak Perlman, Quincy Jones, and James Earl Jones, who build plenty of intrigue for Pines of Rome, Rhapsody in Blue and Carnival of the Animals respectively; this seriousness makes James’ reaction to what the Carnival segment is really about a successful comic subversion. Even Penn and Teller for all their obnoxiousness kind of works with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice due to the linking magic theme.

I suppose what turns people off is the self-congratulatory tone and seemingly forced attempts at comedy you get from Martin, Penn, Teller, and Bette Midler. But you know what? They still make me laugh after all these years (well, you have to laugh at Bette Midler’s antics or she’ll come after you when the Black Flame Candle is lit). In fact, I have to hand it to Midler’s intro in particular. Fantasia 2000 came out right around the time I began taking a keen interest in what animation really was and how it was made. For me, her preceding The Steadfast Tin Soldier piece with tidbits about Fantasia segments that didn’t make it past the drawing board was like the first free hit that turned me into an animation junkie (plus this was before you could look up anything on the topic in extraneous detail on the internet, so it had that going for it). If I have to nitpick, though, The Divine Miss M referring to Salvador Dalí as “the melting watches guy” is a bit reductive. That’d be like calling Babe Ruth “the baseball guy” or Walt Disney “the mouse and castle guy”. Plus, Dalí and Disney were close compadres with a layered history. They planned on many collaborations, though the fruit of their labors, Destino, would not be completed in either of their lifetimes. Couldn’t show just a modicum of respect there, Bette?

Ahhh! I take it back! Don’t steal my soul!

So, I wouldn’t say I hate or even completely dislike the host segments. Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping for me to rip into them. They’re not awful, just uneven. And if you think they ruin the movie for me, you’ve got another think coming.

Pines of Rome – Ottorino Respighi

The idea for Pines of Rome’s visuals came about due to an unusual detail in some concept art. Someone noticed that a particular cloud in a painting of the night sky heavily resembled a flying whale. So why make a short about flying whales? The better question would be why NOT make a short about flying whales? A supernova in the night sky miraculously gives some whales the ability to swim through the air over the icy seas. Again, seeing this in IMAX was incredible. There’s just one minor issue I have with. This and another segment were developed well before Pixar made its silver screen debut, and unfortunately, it shows twenty years later; the worst cases are the close-ups.

Okay, who put googly eyes on the moldy beanbag?

There are ways of blending CGI and hand-drawn animation well, and this isn’t one of them. I understand the necessity of having expressive eyes but simply dropping one on top of a CGI creature gives it a bit of an uncanny valley feel. They should have either stuck with traditional all the way or made the whales entirely CG. The CG animation of the whales themselves isn’t too shabby, so they could have pulled it off.

Because simply giving whales flight apparently isn’t enough to hold an audience’s interest, we have an adorable baby whale earning his wings, so to speak. Once he gets his bearings above the surface, he swoops ahead of his family and bothers a flock of seagulls. They chase him into a collapsing iceberg, leaving him trapped, alone and unable to fly. The quiet dip in the music combined with the image of this lost little calf adds some genuine emotional weight to this piece. The baby navigates the iceberg’s claustrophobic caverns until he finds a crevice that elevates him back to his worried parents. From there a whole pod of whales rises out of the ocean to join them as they fly upwards to the supernova’s source.

“So long, and thanks for all the krill!”

As the music reaches its brilliant crescendo, the whales plow through storm clouds until they reach the top of the world and breach through the stars like water. It’s an awe-inspiring climax of a short that, flaws and all, reminds you of what Fantasia is all about.

Majestic.

Rhapsody in Blue – George Gershwin

The music of jazz composer George Gershwin? Timeless. The art of renowned caricaturist Al Hirschfeld? Perfection. All this brought to life with the best animation Disney has to offer? It’s a match made in heaven. Eric Goldberg, who animated the Genie among other comedic characters, idolized Hirschfeld and drew plenty of inspiration from drawings, so getting to work alongside him while making this was nothing short of a dream come true. That attention to detail in rendering Hirschfeld’s trademark curvy two-dimensional style goes beyond mere homage. It is a love letter to a great artist that encapsulates everything about him and his craft, and to a great city that we both had the honor of calling home. The story goes that Goldberg screened the final product for Hirschfeld shortly before his 96th birthday and his wife told him after that it was the best gift he could have ever received.

All this to say I am quite fond of this particular short, thank you very much.

The piece follows four characters navigating 1930’s Manhattan and crossing paths over the course of a single day:

Duke, a construction worker torn between his steady, monotonous job and following his dream of drumming in a jazz band,

Joe, a victim of the Great Depression desperately looking for work,

Rachel, a little girl who wants to spend time with her parents but is forced to attend lesson after lesson by her strict governess,

and “Flying” John, a henpecked husband longing to be free from his overbearing wife –

And her little dog too!

By the way, John is modeled in name and in looks after Disney animation historian John Culhane, who also was the inspiration for The Rescuers’ Mr. Snoops, hence why the two look so similar. He’s not the only name who appears in this sequence: Gershwin himself makes a surprise cameo as he takes over Rachel’s piano solo halfway through the story.

Speaking of, my family used to compare me to Rachel because at that point in my young life I was doing or already did the same mandatory activities as she – swimming, ballet, music, sports, all with the same amount of speed and varying degrees of success.

No one can argue that art is where we both excelled, however.

The physical timing of Rhapsody in Blue’s animation is hilarious, though it doesn’t rely wholly on slapstick for its humor. The sight gags and clever character dynamics all weaved into the music milk plenty of laughs, and envelop you in this living, breathing island that is Manhattan.

I speak from experience, this is the most accurate depiction of commuting on the 1 train that there ever was.

Even with such a premise and two masters of combining comedy and art, there is still enough pathos to keep the story rooted. Take when all four characters are at their lowest point. They look down on some skaters in Rockefeller Center and picture themselves in their place fulfilling their deepest desires. Seeing their dreams so close in their minds and yet so far away while paired with the most stirring part of the score is heartwrenching.

In the end, things pick up as the characters unwittingly solve each other’s problems. Duke quits the construction site, leaving an opening for Joe to fill. Joe accidentally snags John’s wife on a hook and hauls her screaming into the air, allowing him one night of uninhibited fun at the club where Duke performs.

“Anyone hear something? Nah, it’s probably just me.”

Rachel loses her ball while fighting with her nanny, which Duke bounces off the window of her parents’ office, which in turn gets them to notice their daughter about to run into traffic and they save her. Everyone gets their happy ending and it ends on a spectacularly glamorous shot of Time Square lit up in all its frenetic neon glory.

And not a single knockoff costumed character hitting up tourists for photos. Those were the days, my friend.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I adore Rhapsody in Blue. It’s easily my favorite part of the movie; a blissful ménage-a-trois of art style, music and storytelling, and it’s so New York that the only New York things I could think of that are missing are Central Park and amazing bagels. This sequence is gut-busting, energized, emotional, and mesmerizing in its form. I don’t often say I love a piece of animation so much that I’d marry it, but when I do, it’s often directed at Rhapsody in Blue.

Piano Concerto #2 – Dmitri Shostakovich (aka The One With The Steadfast Tin Soldier)

This piece has an interesting history attached to it. Disney wanted to do an animated film surrounding Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales – including The Little Mermaid and The Steadfast Tin Soldier – as far back as the 30’s, but the project fell by the wayside. During Fantasia 2000’s production, Roy E. Disney asked if they could do something with Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto #2 since he and his daughter were attached to that piece. He looked over sketches and storyboards made for the unrealized Tin Soldier sequence and discovered the music matched in perfect time with the story.

This is the second sequence that features CGI at the forefront. Unlike Pines of Rome, though, it works because the main characters are toys, and you can get away with your early CGI looking shiny and metallic and plastic-like when you’re animating toys.

Hell, it worked for Pixar.

The story centers on a tin soldier cast with only one leg who is shunned by his comrades for routinely throwing off their groove. He falls in love with a porcelain ballerina when he mistakes her standing en pointe as her also missing a limb. Despite his embarrassment when he learns the truth, the ballerina is enamored with him as well. This rouses the jealousy of an evil jack-in-the-box who I swear is a caricature of Jeffrey Katzenberg minus the glasses but with a goatee and Lord Farquaad wig.

“MUST. CHOP. EVERYTHING!!!”

The jack-in-the-box and the soldier duke it out for a bit before the former sends the latter flying out the window in a little wooden boat. The boat floats the soldier into the sewers and attracts a horde of angry rats who attack him, because animated rodents seem to have a natural hatred towards toy soldiers.

Case in point.

The soldier hurtles into the sea where he’s eaten by a fish – which is caught the following morning, packed up to be sold at market, bought by the cook who works at the very house he came from, and he falls out of the fish’s mouth on the floor where his owner finds him and places him back with the rest of the toys. Now the story this is based on hints that the jack-in-the-box is really a goblin who orchestrates the soldier’s misfortunes with his malicious magic. But based the extremely coincidental circumstances of his return home, I’d say the soldier’s the one who’s got some reality-warping tricks up his sleeve.

The soldier and jack-in-the-box duel again that evening, but this time the harlequin harasser falls into the fireplace and burns up. Our hero gets the girl and lives happily ever after. A nice conclusion, though a far cry from what happened in the original tale: the ballerina is knocked into the fire, the soldier jumps in after her, and all that remains of them by morning is some melted tin in the shape of a heart. I gotta say, for all my love of classic fairytales, Disney made the right call. Andersen’s life was far from magical and it reflected in his stories, making many of them depressing for no good reason. The triumphant note the music ends on also would have clashed horribly if they stuck with the original. Even the Queen of Denmark agreed with Disney’s decision to soften their adaptations of Andersen’s work. I don’t know if I’d call The Steadfast Tin Soldier one of my very favorite parts of Fantasia 2000, but in the end, s’all right.

Carnival of the Animals: Finale – Camille Sant-Saëns

This shortest of shorts (clocking in at less than two minutes) kicks off with James Earl Jones asking with as much seriousness as he can muster from the situation, what would happen if you gave a yo-yo to a flock of flamingos?

The answer –

Good answer!

Fie on those who dismiss this part as a silly one-off that doesn’t belong here. Fie, I say! It’s a pure delight full of fun expressions and fluid fast-paced action. Once again we have my man Eric Goldberg to thank for this, though this time he animated it entirely by himself. I’d call it a one-man show except for the fact that his wife Susan handpainted the entire thing with watercolor, making it look like it sprung to life straight from a paintbrush. It’s a simple diversion about a flamingo who wants to play with his yo-yo while the other snooty members of his flock try to force him to conform. As you can see from the still, they fail quite epically. Nothing beats the power of nonconformity and yo-yos (also every yo-yo move featured here is authentic; I love when animators go that extra mile).

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice plays next, but since I already touched on that in the first Fantasia review, I’m skipping over it. The segment ends with Mickey congratulating Leopold Stokowski (again), then crossing the barriers of time and space to inform the conductor, James Levine, that he needs to track down the star of the next segment, Donald Duck. Levine stalls by explaining a bit about what’s to come while Mickey frantically searches for his errant costar. The surround sound sells the notion of him moving around the back of the theater accidentally causing mischief all the while. Thankfully, Donald is found and the sequence commences.

Pomp and Circumstance – Edward Elgar

This famous piece of music was included at the insistence of Michael Eisner after he attended his son’s graduation ceremony. He wanted to feature a song that everyone was already familiar with. Of course, since this was after Frank Well’s untimely passing and no one was bold enough to temper Eisner’s worst instincts with common sense, his original pitch had every animated couple Disney created up to that point marching on to Noah’s Ark – and then marching out with their babies.

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Okay, A: Unless you’re doing a groin hit joke or are Ralph Bakshi or R. Crum, cartoon characters don’t have junk as a rule. And B, one of the unwritten rules of Disney animation is that barring kids that already exist like the titular 101 Dalmatians or Duchess’ kittens, the established canon couples do not in any official capacity have children.

To which Eisner laughed maniacally and vowed that they would.

But in order to placate Eisner’s desire to turn every branch of the Disney corporation into a commercial for itself, the animators compromised and agreed to do Pomp and Circumstance with the Noah’s Ark theme, BUT with only one couple – Donald and Daisy Duck. In this retelling of the biblical tale, Donald acts as Noah’s beleaguered assistant (I guess Shem, Ham, and Japheth were too busy rounding up the endangered species). Daisy provides emotional support while preparing to move on to the ark as well. It’s refreshing to see these two not losing their temper at each other for a change. I wish we got to see this side of their relationship more often. Donald returns Daisy’s easily lost plot device locket to her and as the rain rain rain comes down down down, he starts directing the animals on board; the lions, the tigers, the bears, the…ducks?

Anyway, all the animals and Donald get on board – well, most of them do.

The world’s first climate change deniers.

Donald realizes Daisy hasn’t arrived yet and runs out to look for her, unaware that she’s already boarded. Daisy sees Donald leaving but is too late to stop him before the first floodwaters hit their home. Donald made it back to the ark in time, however, though both of them believe that the other is forever lost to them. I find it astounding that they never run into each other not even once during the forty days and forty nights they’re cooped up on that boat. It’s the American Tail cliche all over again, and well, at least it’s happening in a short and not the entire movie.

Soon the ark lands atop Mount Ararat and the animals depart in greater numbers than when they embarked on their singles cruise. Daisy realizes halfway down the mountain that she’s lost her locket again, which Donald finds at that very moment while sweeping up, and the two are joyously reunited.

“I thought you were dead!” “I thought YOU were dead!”

I kid around, but I truly enjoy this short a lot. There’s so much warmth to Donald and Daisy’s relationship that makes their reunion at the end all the sweeter, and there’s plenty of great slapstick to offset the drama in the meantime. I will admit it’s nice to hear there’s more to Pomp And Circumstance than just the famous march, and the entire suite matches flawlessly with the visuals, though the main theme itself is so ingrained into the public consciousness that it’s difficult to extricate it from that what we’ve seen accompany it countless times.

Come on, you all know what I’m talking about.

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“What? Don’t tell me YOU don’t think of heads exploding like fireworks when you hear Pomp and Circumstance! Name one other life-changing moment could you possibly associate it with…you weirdo.”

The Firebird Suite – Igor Stravinsky

Fantasia 2000 comes to a close with a piece that has some emotional resonance if you know your history. You might remember from my first Fantasia review that Igor Stravinsky was disappointed with how Rite of Spring turned out, especially since he was a big admirer of Walt Disney and really wanted to do more projects with him beforehand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they picked his premiere ballet to end the movie on decades later. After all these years, Disney worked hard to do right by Stravinsky – with a few twists, though. Instead of a balletic retelling of Russian folktales involving kidnapped princesses and immortal sorcerers, we have a fantastical allegory for the circle of life.

No, not that circle of life.

A lone elk who I’m fairly convinced is the Great Prince of the Forest walks through the forest in the dead of winter. With his breath, he awakens the spirit of the woods and one of the most beautiful characters Disney has ever created, the Spring Sprite.

I. Love. This character. Her design is gorgeous, shifting from a shimmery opalescent blue as she steps out of the water into an eternally flowing fount of live greenery spreading from her hair in her wake. Wherever she moves, grass, flowers, and trees blossom, fulfilling the idea of a springtime goddess more than Disney’s own Goddess of Spring ever did. The Sprite was a massive influence in developing my art style, particularly in her face and expressive eyes, and I used to draw her a lot. Visit any relative of mine and chances are you’ll find a picture of her by me hanging up on a wall somewhere in their house. Yet there’s far more to her character than just a pretty representation of nature; there’s plenty of curiosity, spunk, determination, and a drive for creativity. I love her frustrated expression when she’s dissatisfied with the tiny flower she sculpts out of the ground and how her face lights up when she morphs it into a buttercup as tall as she is.

The Sprite paints the forest with all the colors of the wind (mostly green) until she reaches a mountain that isn’t affected by her magic. Perplexed, she climbs it until she finds a large hunched over rock figure – or is it an egg? – standing inside. She reaches out to touch it and…

The Sprite has awakened her counterpart, the wrathful and deadly Firebird. Think giant evil phoenix made of smoke, flame and lava. And it goes without saying that seeing this on the biggest screen left quite the terrifying impact. One of the biggest inspirations for this sequence was the eruption of Mount St. Helens (though the shot of the Sprite surveying the breadth of the Firebird’s destruction reminds me far too much of the Australian bushfires going on) and the sheer horror of nature’s irrepressible chaos is fully captured here. But the Firebird refuses to settle for merely destroying the Sprite’s handiwork, oh no. It won’t rest until creation itself is consumed, and the Sprite is reduced to a powerless mite as she scrabbles to escape the Firebird’s relentless pursuit of her. Try as she might, however, the towering monster corners and devours her in one fell swoop.

The forest is reduced to gray ashes in the wake of the Firebird’s rampage, but the Great Prince has survived. Once again he brings the Sprite to life with his breath, only this time she is tiny and weak (the animation of her slowly developing from the ash into her huddled ragged form is breathtaking). Now, I didn’t think I’d get emotional revisiting a small part of a single movie I’ve rewatched countless times before but viewing this through a mature eye combined with the beauty of the Firebird Suite’s climax and its timely message has caused me to see it in a new light:

The Sprite is utterly broken by what she’s been through and the destruction she carelessly caused. She’s lost all faith in herself and in the idea of returning the forest to what it once was. Even so, the Prince gently insists on carrying her on his antlers to the remains of their favorite cherry blossom tree. Where her tears fall, grass shoots begin to sprout. This fills the Sprite with hope, and she soars into the air becoming one with the sky and rains life down on the forest. New trees burst from the earth. The air is filled with leaves and pollen and new life flowing from her essence. The Sprite’s joy and power grow so strong that she even encircles the Firebird’s mountain in all her verdant glory. Life and creation overcome death and destruction. It’s not Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, but it’s close.

And unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem Fantasia 2000 has.

While working on the original Fantasia, a storyman made the mistake of referring to the work they were doing in “the cartoon medium” in Walt’s presence. Walt turned on him and snapped “This is NOT ‘the cartoon medium’. It should not be limited to cartoons. We have worlds to conquer.”

And conquer they did…just not the way Walt intended.

The point I’m trying to make is Walt was breaking new ground and experimenting with things nobody ever tried when it came to Fantasia. While those risks were initially deemed a failure, it eventually gained the recognition it deserved from the animation and filmmaking community. Any attempt to recreate the magic of Fantasia is no small feat. But rather than taking new risks that not even the first film dared, the studio opted to adhere to Fantasia’s formula with pieces that recall if not flat out copy from the original segments. I hesitate to call it a pale imitation or cash grab however because this was done for the art much more than the money (though Eisner was probably hoping it would bring in some bank). There’s even a little bit of depth to it: while the first Fantasia had themes of differing natures in conflict – light vs. dark, fire vs. water, etc. – Fantasia 2000’s theme is accidental but brilliantly meta: CGI vs. traditional animation, a conflict Disney would become very familiar with in the decade following the film’s release. In some ways, it reminds me of Epcot’s genesis. The driving force behind it was long gone, but the attempt to bring it to life as close to the original vision as possible is still much appreciated.

For all my gripes, I really do enjoy Fantasia 2000. Perhaps not on the same level as its predecessor, but it has its moments, oh yes. And believe me, as far as Disney sequels go, you could do far, far, far worse than this one. Fantasia 2000 is Fantasia’s kid sister mimicking its beloved older sibling in an attempt to show it can be cool like the big kids too. But hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting this misfit on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, movie requests, early sneak-peeks and more! If I can hit my goal of $100 a month, I can go back to weekly tv series reviews. As of now, I’m only $20 away! Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions! I’ll see you in a few weeks when I and review the 1959 Disney animated classic, Sleeping Beauty!

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

Yes, I know The Lion King and Lady and the Tramp ended with the titular characters having babies, but was there anyone out there apart from Eisner who demanded there be sequels to those films that focused on their offspring?

January Review: Fantasia 2000 Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general.

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