My Best Idea For A Film Ever Award 2006

This award ceremony is held in the honour of my competition winner, mydeaddog, to whom I have dedicated the rest of February. I daresay we’ll be seeing a bit of him around here over the next few posts – anyway, this is the best idea I have ever had for a film.
24 HOUR DELIVERY
A young girl, who is dumb with shock from witnessing the murder of her mother, writes a letter to the murderer (in a charming yet totally heartbreaking display of childishness she just puts “to the personn who kild mi mummy” on the envelope).
She opts for the 24 HOUR DELIVERY service, and the man on the counter says “hey, lady – what’s a little cutey like you got with urgent business?” and the girl says “actually it’s a letter to the man who murdered my mum“. (She can’t talk so she says it with her eyes, like Groucho Marx).
But the letter gets opened by this evil postman who reads letters and laughs at the spelling mistakes. And he’s going “ha ha, this girl’s mum’s dead, this is my impression of a woman being murdered”. But when he’s doing this, enter NICK NOLTE – who says “she payed for 24 HOUR DELIVERY. (the title) That’s more than just a contract of service, Dave. It’s a promise to a little girl.”
But the letter’s open now, so he’s all like “well I’m a vegetarian but it’s dead anyway so let’s eat”. So he reads it and starts crying, and says “I’m going to solve this crime and keep our promise by finding the murderer in 24 hours” and Dave agrees to be his sidekick.
After looking up addresses on the internet but not finding any suspicious ones, Dave says “Let’s go ask that guy who killed his wife in the pub.” NICK NOLTE thinks this is a good idea, but says “we’ll need to go undercover – let’s put blood on our faces”. There’s a funny moment where Dave says “I thought you said faeces” and NICK NOLTE says “maybe later dollface” (romantic interest), and then we’re in the pub. I’ve scripted this bit.
ALAN (the baddie) NOTICES BLOOD ON DAVE AND NICK NOLTE IN THE PUB
ALAN : Hello boys, been up to something?
DAVE : Nick and I have murdered our wives.
ALAN : Cool.
NICK : Yes, mine wasn’t happy about it at all, but I just kept stabbing and stabbing.
DAVE : Mine by contrast looked philosophical but disappointed.
ALAN : That’s often worse.
NICK : And now to business do you know anyone who killed the mother of the girl who wrote this letter?
ALAN : That depends. I meet a lot of people who killed the mother of the girl who wrote that letter in my trade.
DAVE : Perhaps this will tickle your fancy. But it is my last one. 🙁
DAVE HANDS ALAN A JEWEL (character development)
ALAN :
OK. But no monkey business!
So they’re all sat down together and they’re all in the room when the LITTLE GIRL from the beginning walks in (plot twist) and she says “Thank you Alan darling. I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about, gentleman”. And then there’s this total revelation. The girl says “I am the murderer, I was expecting your excellent 24 HOUR DELIVERY service to return my inadequately addressed letter to my supplied address after about a week. I felt like I hadn’t been told off properly for the murder, so I wrote myself a stern letter. Krazy I no.”
Then she says some awful shit about how the love of the postmen had given her a voice (something for the ladies) and she could finally realise her ambition to whisper “i love you” after sex (when she is old enough).
Then the credits roll, and we get updates on their lives, like at the end of Legally Blonde. 
Something like “Alan adopted the little girl and lets her play with the corpse of his wife (to reduce culture shock of suddenly having an alive mum)” and “Dave and Nick never get it on but they sometimes make excuses to touch each other”.
My other film is called SHARON BRUCE-TAHOE IS ONE PRIZE FUCKING BITCH and to be honest there’s not much plot in it, it’s just something that I’ve been wanted to say somewhere public since 2003.

17 thoughts on “My Best Idea For A Film Ever Award 2006

  1. mydeaddog

    I happily proclaim this to be the best film idea I have ever heard today!
    Who in the name of fuck is Sharon Bruce-Tahoe?

    Reply
  2. jonesy

    To be honest, it’s all a bit of a cynical Oscar-chaser if you ask me. Precocious and/or troubled child, dead people, Charlize Theron with her roots showing in the role of the dead mum, tentative man love… And, obviously, Eminem and Dido reunited once more on a song on the soundtrack written from the point of view of a murderous child and rapped by Miss Florian Cloud De Doo Doo Doo Bournevita De Da Da Da Armstrong herself. Tsk. He’s got Carla Lane in to do a re-write on the dialogue. To make it sound more whiney and tedious and therefore appeal to beetroot-chomping thirty-something women with fringes.
    Ken Russell directs!

    Reply
  3. Log Post author

    Two points go to Stussybear, who did indeed infuriate this mad cunt by vomiting in the toilet. She also claimed that I shat on the bathroom wall, which is something that I have never consciously done in my life, but there was something brown on the wall. Is it possible to accidentally shit on the wall at above anus height? It was a big lump, an’all.

    Reply
  4. Hicksion

    I don’t know if it’s just my wacky string powered broadband connection fucking with me, but lifelong disappointment seems to have fallen over and vanished in a puff of smoke?
    Did someone bum it into next Tuesday?

    Reply
  5. big_al

    If I had to be critical, I’d say this piece borrows largely from the unique style of IOYC. Subliminal influences at the very least. Minor outrage, anyone?

    Reply
  6. Speedwolf

    I was once accused of shitting in someone’s shoe at a party. I was caught hovering over it with my naked sphincter trying desperately to crimp off a foot of cable into his footwear at the time. On a garden bench.
    It was purely circumstantial.

    Reply
  7. HeWhoIsTooBored

    If we’re talking about entertainment ideas, last night I had a dream that the producers decided to attract new audiences to the programme “Last of the Summer Wine” by giving a robot companion to each of the old men.
    There was a blue one who looked like one of the robots out of the recent Disney film who sat quietly in a pub with Peter Sallis, exchanging gentle banter, whereas the one who is the son of the dead Compo was torn apart by a malfunctioning battle droid.
    With that kind of subconscious, I ought to be a commissioning editor at the BBC.

    Reply

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