Are you excited? You're excited, aren't you? Yeah, you are! You can't wait! Your heart's all a'flutter! Your bladder can barely avoid releasing. The sun is a little bit brighter, the clouds a bit fluffier. There's a spring in your step and a song in your soul.
Now you just need to know what the hell I'm talking about and your conscious mind can catch up with your nervous system. Then wait no further, faithful reader! Wait no further!
But wait a minute. How could you not know about my un-produced screenplay? What are ya, some kinda unknowing type that doesn't intuit when something no one has ever seen has been written? I don't need people like you in my life. You sicken me. I taste bile. It stings almost as badly as the many disappointments in my life. Why do you torment me so?
Okay, I got that off my chest. Feel better? Good. I'm glad we worked that out like mature adults who hold onto petty grudges until the ulcers consume them like acid poured over a murder victim to conceal his identity. It's called being mentally healthy.
"Blower of Whistle" was and, I suppose, is a short screenplay I was challenged to write for an actor I know who wanted to produce it. When I say "challenge," I use it as facetiously as she did; she knew full well I could write this and finish it quickly. She read it and laughed in all the right places. Having done my part, I sat back and waited for the magic of film production to turn my little teleplay as they were once called into hopefully hilarious reality.
There was even talk of casting me as the President's smarmy, weasel-like attorney. And then that talk ended and my actor friend grew more and more frustrated with her acting troupe. Thus did my Hollywood hopes get dashed on the shores of Boo Hoo Beach.
So, the un-produced screenplay languished on my hard-drive for several months, becoming less timely and relevant as a very real impeachment took place. For a while, I felt I'd written something hopelessly dated, a piece that was written to be seen before the proceedings. What could I do with it now, I wondered. Then it occurred to me. So what?
So what if it was written to be seen before the actual impeachment? I didn't name anyone, although the targets of the satire could be seen from space. Wasn't this story supposed to take place prior to the impeachment anyway? Who could say what secret meetings were held in the days leading up to the impeachment? ME! Haven't you been paying attention!?
So this, then, is the tale of the top secret meeting held before the impeachment to help a clueless, boorish president avoid national embarrassment. I'll let everyone know when it's officially available.
And available it is!
click here and bring money!
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