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Jet Moses

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Does anybody want to help me write a book? If you write, you know it's time consuming and alot of work. I can't do it alone. I'd like to put a team together for the project.

I got all the ideas from when I was in my early twenties, working for a ticket scalper, and then on a loading dock.

I can share the idea publicly, because this post is a poor man's copyright, so if anybody steals it, I'll let them do all the work and then I'll just sue them. :lol:

Here goes:

A few characters on a loading dock scheme a heist of a load of Johnny Walker, but the dumbasses end up stealing soap. They end up contacting the protagonist, we'll call him "Carlo" who runs a telemarketing scam. Now, although the actual events happened during the Giuliani administration, I'm going to bump it back to the Dinkins era NYC, because it was so much more sleazier.

Carlo is a scumbag from the word go, who can sell anything. He gets most of his pigeons by calling them out of the blue. Now, this is back before computers and the internet, so the boiler room Carlo has, it's all done off of roledexes.

Most people hang up, but it's that one pigeon who makes it all worthwhile. Enter Stanley, head janitor for X Corp. They start off by sending him "gifts", and then hit him up to buy just a small can of industrial soap. The gifts keep coming, and the pressure to by more and more soap.

Anyway, Carlo is also a ticket scalper. And I'm going to work in to the storyline super bowl tickets, and of course, the Jets are in the SB. ;)

I also have a comedy relief running through the book, of a bookie who gets his car stolen, and throughout the book, he see's his car, and there is a black guy driving it--wearing his hat.

And it's not so much that the guy stole his car that pisses him off, it's that the guy is wearing his hat.

This is based on a true story, and if you heard it told by the guys in the diner down neck Newark, it's funny as Hell.

Anyway, thats the basic skeloton of it. Help me fill in the blood and meat?

\:D/

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Nice to see that you are including Jets fans in your book.

:lol:

It's actually a true story. The driver's nickname was "Mumbles". Somebody knocked all his front teeth out so he had dentures, but was too cheap to by the sealing wax, so when he said "itch" it sounded like "ish".

Not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

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Does anybody want to help me write a book? If you write, you know it's time consuming and alot of work. I can't do it alone. I'd like to put a team together for the project.

I got all the ideas from when I was in my early twenties, working for a ticket scalper, and then on a loading dock.

I can share the idea publicly, because this post is a poor man's copyright, so if anybody steals it, I'll let them do all the work and then I'll just sue them. :lol:

Here goes:

A few characters on a loading dock scheme a heist of a load of Johnny Walker, but the dumbasses end up stealing soap. They end up contacting the protagonist, we'll call him "Carlo" who runs a telemarketing scam. Now, although the actual events happened during the Giuliani administration, I'm going to bump it back to the Dinkins era NYC, because it was so much more sleazier.

Carlo is a scumbag from the word go, who can sell anything. He gets most of his pigeons by calling them out of the blue. Now, this is back before computers and the internet, so the boiler room Carlo has, it's all done off of roledexes.

Most people hang up, but it's that one pigeon who makes it all worthwhile. Enter Stanley, head janitor for X Corp. They start off by sending him "gifts", and then hit him up to buy just a small can of industrial soap. The gifts keep coming, and the pressure to by more and more soap.

Anyway, Carlo is also a ticket scalper. And I'm going to work in to the storyline super bowl tickets, and of course, the Jets are in the SB. ;)

I also have a comedy relief running through the book, of a bookie who gets his car stolen, and throughout the book, he see's his car, and there is a black guy driving it--wearing his hat.

And it's not so much that the guy stole his car that pisses him off, it's that the guy is wearing his hat.

This is based on a true story, and if you heard it told by the guys in the diner down neck Newark, it's funny as Hell.

Anyway, thats the basic skeloton of it. Help me fill in the blood and meat?

\:D/

I would set it in 1998 and have them scalping Super Bowl tickets that turned out to be no good since the Jets didn't quite make it. It would be a fun twist and a great scam.

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I would set it in 1998 and have them scalping Super Bowl tickets that turned out to be no good since the Jets didn't quite make it. It would be a fun twist and a great scam.

No, I already have them scalping tickets for the AFC title game, that's where the story ends, badly.

I write papers all the time. \:D/

Hey, we'll have plenty to talk about at the Jets/Bills tailgate.

;)

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My friends call me Moses. You might as well call me that, too.

I have not always enjoyed the simplicity of the remote Brazilian home that I share with the patient woman to whom I have been married for 40 years. No, there's another life, lost now to the memory of most but deeply etched in mine. It began on the streets and docks of New Jersey. I'm going to pour myself another whiskey and tell you all about it...

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My friends call me Moses. You might as well call me that, too.

I have not always enjoyed the simplicity of the remote Brazilian home that I share with the patient woman to whom I have been married for 40 years. No, there's another life, lost now to the memory of most but deply etched in mine. It began on the streets and docks of New Jersey. I'm going to pour myself another whiskey and tell you all about it...

One day.

:Typotux:

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I would recommend getting Borgoguy's assistance, but it would go slightly off topic, with lost Roman Legionnaires getting involved, with tragic consequences.

What insolence, PDW. I can write in the upbeat, mainstream genre. Off the top of my head:

WIDE SHOT OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE AS SEEN FROM HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY. CUT TO PERSPECTIVE OF A HELICOPTER SPEEDING ABOUT A FOOT ABOVE THE HUDSON RIVER TOWARD THE CITY. AS THE COPTER APPROACHES THE WEST SIDE DOCKS, QUICK CUT TO A MAN--CARLO, WHO IS 30ISH AND BALDING--STANDING ON THE STREET HOLDING A REVOLVER.

CARLO: How the f**k did I get myself into this? I wanted to be somebody. A person my folks could be proud of. Not some piece of s**t ticket scalper. Take away the occasional blow job from some high school chick trying to get seats for U2, and what do I got? Nuthin. F**k it, I end it here on the West Side where I was born. (RAISING GUN TO HIS TEMPLE) Let these a$$hole sanitation guys clean up my brain matter. Yeah, right. The last time these streets got hosed down, Lindsay was in office.

JUMP CUT TO HELICOPTER STILL SPEEDING TOWARD MANHATTAN. THEN BACK TO CARLO WHO IS JUST ABOUT TO PULL THE TRIGGER. SUDDENLY, SFX OF A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT, WHICH CAUSES CARLO TO DROP HIS REVOLVER AND SHIELD HIS EYES. AS THE LIGHT FADES, WE SEE THAT ANOTHER MAN HAS APPEARED FROM THE FLASH. DRESSED IN A NEW YORK YANKEE UNIFORM FROM THE LATE 1930S, HE IS HANDSOME AND HOLDING A BASEBALL BAT.

CARLO (CONT. RUBBING HIS EYES, INCREDULOUS): Lou? (TAKING A STEP TOWARDS THE YANKEE) Lou Gehrig? How can this be? You died in '41.

LOU (TAKING THE BAT FROM HIS SHOULDERS AND HOLDING IT IN FRONT OF HIM.): What are you gonna do with that gun, Carlo?

CARLO (SUDDENLY EMBARRASSED): Nothing Lou. I swear.

LOU: You wouldn't lie to the Iron Horse now, would you kid? I was sent here to save you. There are great things ahead for you, kid. Amazing things that you can't even imagine.

CARLO (HANGING ON EVERY WORD): Really, Lou. Me?

LOU (TAKING A FEW MOCK SWINGS WITH THE BAT AS HE SPEAKS.): That's right kid. I'm upstairs now, you know I couldn't lie even if I wanted to. I can't tell you everything, or how it will work, but over the next few years you and several friends will stumble on the cure for cancer. Your breakthrough will save countless lives and spare men, women and children excruciating suffering. You will be carried through these streets a hero, love by all, but especially by your parents.

CUT TO CARLO SMILING WITH A TEAR STREAMING DOWN HIS CHEEK.

CARLO: Tell me it's true, Lou. Tell me you're really here.

SFX OF MASSIVE HELICOPTER ROTORS GOING HORRIBLY OUT OF CONTROL. MORE SFX OF GEARS GRINDING AND SOUNDS OF THE PILOT DESPERATELY TRYING TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE HELICOPTER. A MOMENT LATER, LOU AND CARLO WHIP AROUND TO SEE AN INSANELY VIOLENT HELICOPTER EXPLOSION, WHICH SENDS A FIREBALL AND ONE OF ITS ROTORS WHIPPING RAPIDLY TOWARDS THE TWO MEN. A NANO SECOND LATER, THE ROTOR SHATTERS CARLO'S SCULL AND SLICES HIM IN TWO GRAPHICALLY AND HORRIBLY. AFTER A BEAT, THE FIREBALL TURNS HIM INTO CINDERS. LOU LOOKS AT THE CARNAGE AND SHAKES HIS HEAD.

LOU: Maybe I got the wrong guy?

AS LOU WALKS UPTOWN AND BEGINS TO DISAPPEAR, WE

FADE OUT.

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What insolence, PDW. I can write in the upbeat, mainstream genre. Off the top of my head:

WIDE SHOT OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE AS SEEN FROM HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY. CUT TO PERSPECTIVE OF A HELICOPTER SPEEDING ABOUT A FOOT ABOVE THE HUDSON RIVER TOWARD THE CITY. AS THE COPTER APPROACHES THE WEST SIDE DOCKS, QUICK CUT TO A MAN--CARLO, WHO IS 30ISH AND BALDING--STANDING ON THE STREET HOLDING A REVOLVER.

CARLO: How the f**k did I get myself into this? I wanted to be somebody. A person my folks could be proud of. Not some piece of s**t ticket scalper. Take away the occasional blow job from some high school chick trying to get seats for U2, and what do I got? Nuthin. F**k it, I end it here on the West Side where I was born. (RAISING GUN TO HIS TEMPLE) Let these a$$hole sanitation guys clean up my brain matter. Yeah, right. The last time these streets got hosed down, Lindsay was in office.

JUMP CUT TO HELICOPTER STILL SPEEDING TOWARD MANHATTAN. THEN BACK TO CARLO WHO IS JUST ABOUT TO PULL THE TRIGGER. SUDDENLY, SFX OF A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT, WHICH CAUSES CARLO TO DROP HIS REVOLVER AND SHIELD HIS EYES. AS THE LIGHT FADES, WE SEE THAT ANOTHER MAN HAS APPEARED FROM THE FLASH. DRESSED IN A NEW YORK YANKEE UNIFORM FROM THE LATE 1930S, HE IS HANDSOME AND HOLDING A BASEBALL BAT.

CARLO (CONT. RUBBING HIS EYES, INCREDULOUS): Lou? (TAKING A STEP TOWARDS THE YANKEE) Lou Gehrig? How can this be? You died in '41.

LOU (TAKING THE BAT FROM HIS SHOULDERS AND HOLDING IT IN FRONT OF HIM.): What are you gonna do with that gun, Carlo?

CARLO (SUDDENLY EMBARRASSED): Nothing Lou. I swear.

LOU: You wouldn't lie to the Iron Horse now, would you kid? I was sent here to save you. There are great things ahead for you, kid. Amazing things that you can't even imagine.

CARLO (HANGING ON EVERY WORD): Really, Lou. Me?

LOU (TAKING A FEW MOCK SWINGS WITH THE BAT AS HE SPEAKS.): That's right kid. I'm upstairs now, you know I couldn't lie even if I wanted to. I can't tell you everything, or how it will work, but over the next few years you and several friends will stumble on the cure for cancer. Your breakthrough will save countless lives and spare men, women and children excruciating suffering. You will be carried through these streets a hero, love by all, but especially by your parents.

CUT TO CARLO SMILING WITH A TEAR STREAMING DOWN HIS CHEEK.

CARLO: Tell me it's true, Lou. Tell me you're really here.

SFX OF BLARING HELICOPTER ROTORS GOING HORRIBLY OUT OF CONTROL. LOU AND CARLO WHIP AROUND TO SEE THE AN INSANELY VIOLENT HELICOPTER EXPLOSION, WHICH SENDS A FIREBALL AND ONE OF ITS ROTORS WHIPPING RAPIDLY TOWARDS THE TWO MEN. A NANO SECOND LATER, ONE OF THE ROTORS SHATTERS CARLO'S SCULL AND SLICES HIM IN TWO GRAPHICALLY AND HORRIBLY. AFTER A BEAT THE FIREBALL TURNS HIM INTO CINDERS. LOU LOOKS AT THE CARNAGE AND SHAKES HIS HEAD.

LOU: Maybe I got the wrong guy?

AS LOU WALKS UPTOWN AND BEGINS TO DISAPPEAR, WE

FADE OUT.

Can I have that two minutes of my life back?

That was one of the worst things I've ever read.

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Does anybody want to help me write a book? If you write, you know it's time consuming and alot of work. I can't do it alone. I'd like to put a team together for the project.

I got all the ideas from when I was in my early twenties, working for a ticket scalper, and then on a loading dock.

I can share the idea publicly, because this post is a poor man's copyright, so if anybody steals it, I'll let them do all the work and then I'll just sue them. :lol:

Here goes:

A few characters on a loading dock scheme a heist of a load of Johnny Walker, but the dumbasses end up stealing soap. They end up contacting the protagonist, we'll call him "Carlo" who runs a telemarketing scam. Now, although the actual events happened during the Giuliani administration, I'm going to bump it back to the Dinkins era NYC, because it was so much more sleazier.

Carlo is a scumbag from the word go, who can sell anything. He gets most of his pigeons by calling them out of the blue. Now, this is back before computers and the internet, so the boiler room Carlo has, it's all done off of roledexes.

Most people hang up, but it's that one pigeon who makes it all worthwhile. Enter Stanley, head janitor for X Corp. They start off by sending him "gifts", and then hit him up to buy just a small can of industrial soap. The gifts keep coming, and the pressure to by more and more soap.

Anyway, Carlo is also a ticket scalper. And I'm going to work in to the storyline super bowl tickets, and of course, the Jets are in the SB. ;)

I also have a comedy relief running through the book, of a bookie who gets his car stolen, and throughout the book, he see's his car, and there is a black guy driving it--wearing his hat.

And it's not so much that the guy stole his car that pisses him off, it's that the guy is wearing his hat.

This is based on a true story, and if you heard it told by the guys in the diner down neck Newark, it's funny as Hell.

Anyway, thats the basic skeloton of it. Help me fill in the blood and meat?

\:D/

in the end does someone die ?

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What insolence, PDW. I can write in the upbeat, mainstream genre. Off the top of my head:

WIDE SHOT OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE AS SEEN FROM HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY. CUT TO PERSPECTIVE OF A HELICOPTER SPEEDING ABOUT A FOOT ABOVE THE HUDSON RIVER TOWARD THE CITY. AS THE COPTER APPROACHES THE WEST SIDE DOCKS, QUICK CUT TO A MAN--CARLO, WHO IS 30ISH AND BALDING--STANDING ON THE STREET HOLDING A REVOLVER.

CARLO: How the f**k did I get myself into this? I wanted to be somebody. A person my folks could be proud of. Not some piece of s**t ticket scalper. Take away the occasional blow job from some high school chick trying to get seats for U2, and what do I got? Nuthin. F**k it, I end it here on the West Side where I was born. (RAISING GUN TO HIS TEMPLE) Let these a$$hole sanitation guys clean up my brain matter. Yeah, right. The last time these streets got hosed down, Lindsay was in office.

JUMP CUT TO HELICOPTER STILL SPEEDING TOWARD MANHATTAN. THEN BACK TO CARLO WHO IS JUST ABOUT TO PULL THE TRIGGER. SUDDENLY, SFX OF A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT, WHICH CAUSES CARLO TO DROP HIS REVOLVER AND SHIELD HIS EYES. AS THE LIGHT FADES, WE SEE THAT ANOTHER MAN HAS APPEARED FROM THE FLASH. DRESSED IN A NEW YORK YANKEE UNIFORM FROM THE LATE 1930S, HE IS HANDSOME AND HOLDING A BASEBALL BAT.

CARLO (CONT. RUBBING HIS EYES, INCREDULOUS): Lou? (TAKING A STEP TOWARDS THE YANKEE) Lou Gehrig? How can this be? You died in '41.

LOU (TAKING THE BAT FROM HIS SHOULDERS AND HOLDING IT IN FRONT OF HIM.): What are you gonna do with that gun, Carlo?

CARLO (SUDDENLY EMBARRASSED): Nothing Lou. I swear.

LOU: You wouldn't lie to the Iron Horse now, would you kid? I was sent here to save you. There are great things ahead for you, kid. Amazing things that you can't even imagine.

CARLO (HANGING ON EVERY WORD): Really, Lou. Me?

LOU (TAKING A FEW MOCK SWINGS WITH THE BAT AS HE SPEAKS.): That's right kid. I'm upstairs now, you know I couldn't lie even if I wanted to. I can't tell you everything, or how it will work, but over the next few years you and several friends will stumble on the cure for cancer. Your breakthrough will save countless lives and spare men, women and children excruciating suffering. You will be carried through these streets a hero, love by all, but especially by your parents.

CUT TO CARLO SMILING WITH A TEAR STREAMING DOWN HIS CHEEK.

CARLO: Tell me it's true, Lou. Tell me you're really here.

SFX OF MASSIVE HELICOPTER ROTORS GOING HORRIBLY OUT OF CONTROL. MORE SFX OF GEARS GRINDING AND SOUNDS OF THE PILOT DESPERATELY TRYING TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE HELICOPTER. A MOMENT LATER, LOU AND CARLO WHIP AROUND TO SEE AN INSANELY VIOLENT HELICOPTER EXPLOSION, WHICH SENDS A FIREBALL AND ONE OF ITS ROTORS WHIPPING RAPIDLY TOWARDS THE TWO MEN. A NANO SECOND LATER, THE ROTOR SHATTERS CARLO'S SCULL AND SLICES HIM IN TWO GRAPHICALLY AND HORRIBLY. AFTER A BEAT, THE FIREBALL TURNS HIM INTO CINDERS. LOU LOOKS AT THE CARNAGE AND SHAKES HIS HEAD.

LOU: Maybe I got the wrong guy?

AS LOU WALKS UPTOWN AND BEGINS TO DISAPPEAR, WE

FADE OUT.

You're hired.

:Typotux:

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What insolence, PDW. I can write in the upbeat, mainstream genre. Off the top of my head:

WIDE SHOT OF THE NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE AS SEEN FROM HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY. CUT TO PERSPECTIVE OF A HELICOPTER SPEEDING ABOUT A FOOT ABOVE THE HUDSON RIVER TOWARD THE CITY. AS THE COPTER APPROACHES THE WEST SIDE DOCKS, QUICK CUT TO A MAN--CARLO, WHO IS 30ISH AND BALDING--STANDING ON THE STREET HOLDING A REVOLVER.

CARLO: How the f**k did I get myself into this? I wanted to be somebody. A person my folks could be proud of. Not some piece of s**t ticket scalper. Take away the occasional blow job from some high school chick trying to get seats for U2, and what do I got? Nuthin. F**k it, I end it here on the West Side where I was born. (RAISING GUN TO HIS TEMPLE) Let these a$$hole sanitation guys clean up my brain matter. Yeah, right. The last time these streets got hosed down, Lindsay was in office.

JUMP CUT TO HELICOPTER STILL SPEEDING TOWARD MANHATTAN. THEN BACK TO CARLO WHO IS JUST ABOUT TO PULL THE TRIGGER. SUDDENLY, SFX OF A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT, WHICH CAUSES CARLO TO DROP HIS REVOLVER AND SHIELD HIS EYES. AS THE LIGHT FADES, WE SEE THAT ANOTHER MAN HAS APPEARED FROM THE FLASH. DRESSED IN A NEW YORK YANKEE UNIFORM FROM THE LATE 1930S, HE IS HANDSOME AND HOLDING A BASEBALL BAT.

CARLO (CONT. RUBBING HIS EYES, INCREDULOUS): Lou? (TAKING A STEP TOWARDS THE YANKEE) Lou Gehrig? How can this be? You died in '41.

LOU (TAKING THE BAT FROM HIS SHOULDERS AND HOLDING IT IN FRONT OF HIM.): What are you gonna do with that gun, Carlo?

CARLO (SUDDENLY EMBARRASSED): Nothing Lou. I swear.

LOU: You wouldn't lie to the Iron Horse now, would you kid? I was sent here to save you. There are great things ahead for you, kid. Amazing things that you can't even imagine.

CARLO (HANGING ON EVERY WORD): Really, Lou. Me?

LOU (TAKING A FEW MOCK SWINGS WITH THE BAT AS HE SPEAKS.): That's right kid. I'm upstairs now, you know I couldn't lie even if I wanted to. I can't tell you everything, or how it will work, but over the next few years you and several friends will stumble on the cure for cancer. Your breakthrough will save countless lives and spare men, women and children excruciating suffering. You will be carried through these streets a hero, love by all, but especially by your parents.

CUT TO CARLO SMILING WITH A TEAR STREAMING DOWN HIS CHEEK.

CARLO: Tell me it's true, Lou. Tell me you're really here.

SFX OF MASSIVE HELICOPTER ROTORS GOING HORRIBLY OUT OF CONTROL. MORE SFX OF GEARS GRINDING AND SOUNDS OF THE PILOT DESPERATELY TRYING TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE HELICOPTER. A MOMENT LATER, LOU AND CARLO WHIP AROUND TO SEE AN INSANELY VIOLENT HELICOPTER EXPLOSION, WHICH SENDS A FIREBALL AND ONE OF ITS ROTORS WHIPPING RAPIDLY TOWARDS THE TWO MEN. A NANO SECOND LATER, THE ROTOR SHATTERS CARLO'S SCULL AND SLICES HIM IN TWO GRAPHICALLY AND HORRIBLY. AFTER A BEAT, THE FIREBALL TURNS HIM INTO CINDERS. LOU LOOKS AT THE CARNAGE AND SHAKES HIS HEAD.

LOU: Maybe I got the wrong guy?

AS LOU WALKS UPTOWN AND BEGINS TO DISAPPEAR, WE

FADE OUT.

Why aren't you in Hollywood? It's a travesty.

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jokes on you for actually reading it.

This from a guy with a Norse finoccio as his avatar? How dare you all question my writing abilities. I"ll have you know that I am already in serious negotiations with Hilary Duff's people about her participation in JetMo's concept. According to her representation, Duff sees it as an opportunity to capture some of the magic that catapulted Hilary Swank's career after her gender bending turn in Boys Don't Cry. Presently, I am reworking the story treatment to reflect Duff's wishes. First, by turning Carlo's role into Carla. Then, by changing Carla's occupation from ticket scalper to a New York City-based fudge packer. Discussions are already underway with the estate of piano great Liberace about using a look-a-like actor to portray Lee as Duff's (Carla's) shift supervisor at the fudge packing facility. I'll keep you guys posted on the details as they arise.

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This from a guy with a Norse finoccio as his avatar? How dare you all question my writing abilities. I"ll have you know that I am already in serious negotiations with Hilary Duff's people about her participation in JetMo's concept. According to her representation, Duff sees it as an opportunity to capture some of the magic that catapulted Hilary Swank's career after her gender bending turn in Boys Don't Cry. Presently, I am reworking the story treatment to reflect Duff's wishes. First, by turning Carlo's role into Carla. Then, by changing Carla's occupation from ticket scalper to a New York City-based fudge packer. Discussions are already underway with the estate of piano great Liberace about using a look-a-like actor to portray Lee as Duff's (Carla's) shift supervisor at the fudge packing facility. I'll keep you guys posted on the details as they arise.

JetMoses wants to write a book and you're already turning it into an unwatachable, cliche filled, two minute long movie?

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This from a guy with a Norse finoccio as his avatar? How dare you all question my writing abilities. I"ll have you know that I am already in serious negotiations with Hilary Duff's people about her participation in JetMo's concept. According to her representation, Duff sees it as an opportunity to capture some of the magic that catapulted Hilary Swank's career after her gender bending turn in Boys Don't Cry. Presently, I am reworking the story treatment to reflect Duff's wishes. First, by turning Carlo's role into Carla. Then, by changing Carla's occupation from ticket scalper to a New York City-based fudge packer. Discussions are already underway with the estate of piano great Liberace about using a look-a-like actor to portray Lee as Duff's (Carla's) shift supervisor at the fudge packing facility. I'll keep you guys posted on the details as they arise.

still too long.

If you've got anything in the 8-10 word range I'll give it a read.

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JetMoses wants to write a book and you're already turning it into an unwatachable, cliche filled, two minute long movie?

This is one of those posts that you hope you will never write. But, here goes. Kleck, do you realize that this is a goof? The "screenwriter", and inherent pitching to fictitious studio executives and agents, is a persona that I affect here only for purposes of humor and sarcasm. Please resume your regular activities. Thank you.

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I don't think anybody is questioning.

Just a total bore--and boor--who is too consumed with his own feigned intelligence to see the sarcasm. The difference with you is that you add a mean spirited approach to the mix. I'm not sure what you have against me, but I accept whatever it is. In turn, please accept that I think you are a fraud and agitator, whose departure from JetNation would be heralded by all.

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Why are you n00bs hating on Borgo? Yeah, he turned JetMo's story into Hollywood flash, whereas I would have written it with gritty realism that would have been less commercially successful but more artistically fullfilling, but he seems like a good guy.

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Why are you n00bs hating on Borgo? Yeah, he turned JetMo's story into Hollywood flash, whereas I would have written it with gritty realism that would have been less commercially successful but more artistically fullfilling, but he seems like a good guy.

Thank you, Bob. You are one of the few on this board still able to grasp the auteur style of filmmaking. Though I appreciate your platitude, I take exception with your appraisal of my story treatment as "Hollywood flash", and that it is not realistic. What could be more realistic than Lou Gehrig--baseball's immortal Iron Horse-- coming back from the dead to help a suicidal ticket scalper, I ask you?

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What could be more realistic than Lou Gehrig--baseball's immortal Iron Horse-- coming back from the dead to help a suicidal ticket scalper, I ask you?

Carlo, in a drug-induced mania, thinking he saw the Iron Horse, while thugs laughed and stole his wallet would have been WAY more believable.

You could still have the helicopter.

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