I have in my satchel your next big hit.
(JAMES JOYCE spies, BOBBY B., an acquaintance and adult film producer, entering an elevator and JAMES jumps in with him just as the doors are closing.)
JAMES: Bobby B.! What fantastic timing. I have in my satchel your next big hit.
BOBBY B.: Not in the mood, James . . .
JAMES: Hear me out, you won’t regret it.
BOBBY B.: (grunts)
JAMES: Okay then, the film opens with, Molly, the protagonist, opening the door for the pizza delivery guy and before the guy can even spit out how much she owes for the large pepperoni and mushroom, she starts going off: no thats no way for him has he no manners nor no refinement nor no nothing in his nature slapping us behind like that on my bottom because I didnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesn’t know poetry from a cabbage thats what you get for not keeping them in their proper place pulling off his shoes and trousers there on the chair before me so barefaced without even asking permission and standing out that vulgar way in the half of a shirt they wear to be admired like a priest or a butcher . . . and the pizza guy says, “huh”? and she keeps right on . . .
BOBBY B.: Time’s up!
(JAMES hits the elevator’s emergency stop button, abruptly stalling the elevator between floors, and keeps pitching.)
JAMES: And she keeps right on . . . O well I suppose its because they were so plump and tempting in my short petticoat he couldnt resist they excite myself sometimes its well for men all the amount of pleasure they get off a womans body were so round and white for them always I wished I was one myself for a change just to try with that thing they have swelling up on you so hard and at the same time so soft when you touch it . . .
BOBBY B.: James!
(JAMES ignores BOBBY B. and keeps pitching.)
JAMES: my aunt Mary has a thing hairy because it was dark and they knew a girl was passing it didnt make me blush why should it either its only nature and he puts his thing long into my aunt Marys hairy etcetera and turns out to be . . .
(JAMES again ignores BOBBY B. and keeps pitching.)
JAMES: Ill let him know if thats what he wanted that his wife is fucked yes and damn well fucked too up to my neck nearly not by him 5 or 6 times handrunning theres the mark of his spunk on the clean sheet . . .
(JAMES ignores BOBBY B. yet again, and keeps pitching.)
JAMES: if he wants to kiss my bottom Ill drag open my drawers and bulge it right out in his face as large as life he can stick his tongue 7 miles up my hole as hes there my brown part then Ill tell him I want . . .
BOBBY B.: (screaming at the top of his lungs) For the love of god, James, please stop!
(JAMES stops pitching and gives BOBBY B. a curious look.)
JAMES: What?
BOBBY B.: James, you’ve got to learn how to write a logline.
JAMES: What’s a logline?
BOBBY B.: You know, a logline, a one-sentence summary of your script. Twenty-to-thirty words.
JAMES: Twenty-to-thirty words? That’s ridiculous!
BOBBY B.: No, it’s the industry standard. How ’bout this: A deep throat odyssey takes you behind and beyond the green door?
JAMES: I don’t get you. You can’t reduce a great work of art into a pithy summary, it exists as it is, period.
BOBBY B.: Ha! That’s the first time I’ve heard you use a period.
(James scowls)
BOBBY B. (cont.): Jeez, James . . . by the way, how long is your script?
JAMES: Six hundred and forty-four pages.
BOBBY B.: Hmm, maybe you should think about turning your screenplay into a novel.
JAMES: But the money’s in porn!
(BOBBY B. shrugs.)
JAMES (cont.): I’ll think about it.
BOBBY B.: Yeah?
(JAMES hits a button and the elevator starts.)
JAMES: yes I said yes I will Yes.
(After a short moment, the doors open and BOBBY B. and JAMES go their separate ways.)
THE END
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