THE TIME TRAVEL STORY (PART 1)

EXT. NEW YORK CITY: THE GIRL TIME TRAVELERS EMERGE FROM MACY'S WEARING EXPENSIVE CLOTHES:

ISABEL (VO): "That was fun. Where's Tony?

CLARE: "He's coming! I see him. Hey, look at this...a satin and tulle swing dress for only 5 dollars! And gloves for two dollars! That cleaned me out!"

KATHY: "I got this round collar jacket for 4 dollars. Can you believe that? But that cleaned me out, too. How about you, Irene?"

IRENE: "Mine cost a little more than that, but I still have lots of money left."

ISABEL: "That's because you Xeroxed your money. We had to buy old dollar bills at collectors prices, the kind that are silver certificates."

TONY WALKS INTO SC.:

TONY: "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Irene, you Xeroxed your money!? I told you that everything we took back to 1952 had to be from that era. You said you understood that. If that fake money changes something in 2015, I could lose my job for taking you here. We could all be arrested!"

THEY CROSS THE STREET:

IRENE: "Calm down, Tony. Nobody said anything. They all took it and gave me change, so what's the harm? Even the gun store took it."

TONY: "Gun store? You bought a gun?"

IRENE: "Yeah, from that store. A cute little revolver. They're legal in 1952.

TONY: "Throw it away. Toss it in a trash can. Get rid of it. I could lose my job."

IRENE: "Stop with the job, already. Everything's fine. Don't be such a wimp."

THEY PASS A ROW OF PANHANDLERS:

TONY AND THE GIRLS WALK PAST THE PANHANDLERS, PRETENDING NOT TO SEE THEM. ONE OF THEM GETS UP AND CHASES IRENE. HE PASSES HER THEN BLOCKS HER WAY.

BUM: "'Just a dime. That's all I'm askin' for. Won't ya help a guy out?"

TONY: "Um...Irene, I have a dime. Here, take it."

IRENE: "I don't want your dime."

BUM: "C'mon, take it. Do a good deed."


.........CONTINUED IN PART 2  [this entire story and text (not photos) copyright Eddie Fitzgerald 7/30/2014]

THE TIME TRAVEL STORY (PART 2)

IRENE: "Why, you pathetic little fool. Get out of my way."

BUM: "Look, all I'm askin' for is a dime, lady. A pretty lady like you...it's not gonna break you."

KATHY: "Haw! It looks like you have an admirer, Irene."

IRENE: "Oh yeah? Well let him admire this."

BAM! BAM! SHE SHOOTS HIM, AND TOSSES THE GUN DOWN A SEWER.

WITNESS: "Oh, my God...she shot him!

A PASSING AMBULANCE STOPS:

AMBULANCE TEAM: "He's dead...a bullet through the forehead! 'Anybody see who did it?"

WOMAN: "I saw it! That lady over there did it. They argued about somethin' and she just took out a gun and shot him."

TONY (DISTRAUGHT): "Wh...why'd you do it Irene? You promised you'd be careful. YOU PROMISED! That's why I took you along. You promised you wouldn't speak to anyone in this time. You promised you wouldn't allow anything you do, no matter how insignificant, to influence anybody in any way. And now this."

IRENE: "Oh, there you go being a wimp again. Nobody cares about him. He was just a bum. And besides, most of these people lived their lives and died long before 2015. What you're seeing are just shades. It doesn't make any difference what you do to them. They're not real.

CLARE: "I don't know, Irene. They look pretty real to me."

 IRENE (CONT): "Anyway we'll be out of here in an hour."

IRENE (CONT) (VO): "There's our ride home now."

CROWD: "You ain't goin' anywhere, Lady! Somebody call a cop!"

IRENE: "Get your hands off me! Don't touch me!"

SHE TAKES SOMETHING FROM HER PURSE AND QUICKLY UNFOLDS IT.

IRENE: "Okay, people...let me introduce you to 2015!"

TONY: "IRENE! Where did you get...you weren't supposed to..."

ZZZZZRRMMM! A LASER BEAM THEN AN EXPLOSION THEN A SERIES OF NAPALM-LIKE PLUMES OF FIRE OBLITERATING HALF A CITY BLOCK: 

CROWD: (SCREAMS OF PANIC)

MORE DESTRUCTION AS THE BEAM SWEEPS ACROSS BUILDING TOPS:

CROWD: (MORE SCREAMS OF PANIC)

TONY DRIVES UP IN A CAR, SCREECHES TO A HALT, SHOUTS TO THE GIRLS:

TONY: "Get in! Get in! We've gotta get to the airport!"

This entire story and text (not photos) copyright Eddie Fitzgerald 7/30/2014)

*********************************

I'd need parts 3 & 4 to tell the whole story, where the "Cleaners" come in, but I think I'll end it here. Finding pictures to illustrate what I wanted to say took hours, and I still didn't get the photos I wanted. *SIGH*

WHAT IT'S LIKE TO TAKE DRUGS

I don't take drugs but I see documentaries about it. Like everybody else I wonder why addicts do it. After all, they've heard the same horror stories that I have. Why trade a short-term high for long-term misery? My guess is that most addicts don't expect to be around for the long term...they're depressives who do it as a prelude to suicide.

'Just a guess.

I'm also guessing that some addicts are romantics at heart. They reason that if they're going to check out then they'd like to have a few experiences first. It's the poor man's equivalent of a final vacation. They figure they'll take the inner journey. They want to find out if the hippies and mystics were on to something. Before they cash in the chips they want to take that lateral step outside of the ordinary world and see how things look from there.

I don't know what it's like to do that, but here's my best guess based...I admit...only on books and movies.

At the outset of the high the world is endlessly fascinating. It's full of lights and sounds and frenetic activity. You hear the clatter of heels on the sidewalk, the hum of neon. You become aware of the city's beating heart, expanding and contracting with the passing El trains.

You notice little things that you never noticed before before, like how there's a whole world in a street puddle (above).

Commonplace objects (above) look weird and funny, and you want to laugh.

After a while though, the drug begins to wear off and the streets (above) become less and less friendly. You become more aware of people who are off kilter somehow. They stare. They walk in and out of shadows. They seem to know something you don't.

You find an excuse to go inside (above) to shake off the weirdness, but it doesn't help. You begin to notice how shabby everything looks.

Rooms seem frighteningly empty. It's an emptiness that has weight, that's full of menace,  that's somehow palpably alive.

Whatever room you're in, you take note of where the exits are. It's not a case of being afraid of a police raid, or of violent friends. There's a sense that somehow the room itself might turn against you.

Out on the street you panic. For someone like you there's no food, no job, no real friends, no money of your own.

And that's how you end up walking next to an intended victim on a dark street, waiting for the right moment to strike. Maybe the guy has a family who depends on him. It doesn't matter. The guy has money and you want it, it's as simple as that.

It's interesting that the drug odyssey that began as a last fling before suicide didn't turn out that way. My guess is that addicts are among the least suicidal people you'll ever meet. They don't start out that way, just the opposite, but somewhere along the line they change. No more inner journey, no more romantic farewell to life. Something about the drug supercharges the will to live, no matter how painful and no matter how degraded that life might be.

Interesting, eh?

THE SUPPORT GROUP

INT. MENTAL HEALTH FACILITY:

GERTRUDE: "Um...Hi! Er...is this the room where the support group meets?"

ALL: "Yay! The counselor's here! Now we can get on with this! C'mon in! We thought you forgot about us!"

 GERTRUDE: "Um, I'm not the counselor. I'm just here for...um...help with shyness."

DAISY: "You're not the counselor?  Now what'll we do? This whole session is a rudderless ship! What are we supposed to do...counsel each other?"

GLADIOLA: "Well, maybe that's not a bad idea. I mean, all disorders probably have  something in common. Maybe we can help each other."

ARNOLD: "I'm game. Why don't we go around the room and let everybody say why they're here?"

MATILDA: "I'll start. I'm Matilda. I have a surgical addiction."

FRED: "Fred. Gender confusion."

JOLSON: "Mother Fixation."

IRIS: "I hate men."

CLOVER: "Me, I like men...maybe too much."

MARVIN: "I'm Marvin and I'm suicidal. I'm lonely 'cause I can't find a woman who likes my kind of guy. By the way, it's hard to commit suicide in a cheap oven like this. Look at the valve heads...they're plastic.

ROSE: "My name's Rose. I have the same problem. Nobody wants to go out with me either, so I figure I'll end it all. My oven has copper valves, by the way. My ex says they last longer."

MARVIN (VO): "Rose? YOU know about oven valves? Geez, I thought women didn't care about things like that. Er...ya wanna get a cup of coffee later on?"

SEDGWICK: "Hey guys! I was just in the room next store, and they're holding a support group for female sex addicts."

BADOOMBADDOM!!!! CHAIRS FLY AS EVERY GUY IN THE PLACE RUSHES OUT OF HIS SEAT, LINES UP FOR THE FEMALE SEX ADDICT GROUP.

THE ABSENT COUNSELOR FINALLY COMES IN:

COUNSELOR: "Hi everybody! Sorry I'm late!"