Stare Into Space

Phantom Machinations

Posted on | February 7, 2012 | 2 Comments


A vast room, in darkness but for a single cone of light that illuminates GEORGE at the head of a long table. A row of execs sit in the shadows along each side. Their chairs are considerably shorter than George’s.


Maybe we can put some aliens in it. Worked with Crystal Skull.


Erm. They’re already aliens, sir. All of them.

George flashes him a beardy scowl. The exec flinches; draws back into his chair.

No one speaks for a while.


Come on. Christ! I have to do everything around here. How do we re-release Phantom Menace and make it even shittier? We did it with the first three dozens of times. We have to be able to get these prequels shittied-up too. Think, you bastards!

No one wants to make eye-contact.


Sir? The problem is, Phantom Menace is already so incredibly shitty that it’s hard to see how it could be given more stank. We call it the Jar-Jar-Effect. Phantom is already perfectly shitty. Right first time sir, if I may be so bold.


Don’t suck up, Barry.


Actually, it’s Alan, sir.


No! It’s Barry!

Alan/Barry clears his throat.


Barry. Yes sir.


Good boy, Mike. Look, what about Ackbar as a teenage-punk, dressed as James Dean on a motorcycle? Can we CGI that in somehow?

Two rows of silhouettes look everywhere but at George.


You guys suck! Seriously, you’re sucking all the freaking midichlorians out of the room.

He grows quiet-

Then smug.

He leans forward. He’s onto something.

The atmosphere in the room charges.

Execs tense-





And then-

Applause. Growing. Building. Rapturous.


Gerry Hayes

Gerry Hayes

I mostly sit around all day and drink tea. Occasionally, I write stuff and send it to strangers so they can humiliate me and deride my efforts. Other than the self-harm to dull the shame of failure, it's not a bad life. Like I say, there's tea.

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