3 mini-plays adapted from 3 video-tributes, dedicated to a master of jokes called

Woody, a spy called James and a gunslinger whose name nobody remembers.

“Vampire Lord of Bananas”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxnRWOMiupA

“007: Thunderballs”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAOE-K_0DEY

“Love and Death in Dustville”

http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=mlXRYF0l9co

-o-

VAMPIRE LORD OF BANANAS

A joking tribute to a master of jokes.

Full moon over a GRAVEYARD enshrouded by low mist.

A voice off-screen is heard as the camera tilts down towards the ground.

WOODY
You think you’ll live forever, but then you die and find yourself in a place like this.
Not that you miss much of what you leave behind. You can do without gossip,
reality-shows and cheese-burgers. Actually, the worst thing is to find out that you
aren’t as dead as you think.

A COFFIN opens, and up stands Woody all dressed in black, with eyes red as embers
under his thick glasses.

WOODY
Yes, I know that my European fans wouldn’t expect to find me in a cape, but at
least my new fangs work better than my denture, and they don’t prevent me from
talking. So I can still stun young ladies with my intellectual jokes, before biting
them on the neck. I wonder what my analyst would say about me turning into a
vampire.

OUT OF NOWHERE APPEARS the analyst.

ANALYST
It is clearly a psychosomatic effect of your Oedipus complex.

Then he’s GONE, and Woody is alone again in the GRAVEYARD.

 WOODY
He’s Freudian, he blames Oedipus even for dandruff. Anyway, you want to know
how it happened? It was a girl I met at a Met exhibit. It was September, I was
feeling kind of Sweet and Lowdown, and she looked like Mighty Aphrodite herself.

IN THE HALL a young bespectacled girl dressed in red speaking with Woody.

GIRL
I like Munch, Schiele, Otto Dix, all those anguished expressionist paintings.

As we see Woody and the girl holding hands in CENTRAL PARK, we hear his voice off-
screen.

WOODY
I guess that was why she found me attractive. She was such a young, pretty thing.
But it turned up that she was 300 years older than she looked…

All of a sudden the romantic colors of Central Park in autumn fade to a cold hostile place
as the girl turns into a red-eyed vampire and BITES Woody on the neck.

BACK IN THE GRAVEYARD, Woody is fuming.

WOODY
…I bet it was my ex-wife Hannah and her sisters of the Feminist Circle to set it up.
Always plotting Crimes and Misdemeanors those witches. I bet that all those
Pilates sessions are really voodoo rites against ex-husbands.

Woody shrugs, it’s all gone now. He moves towards the gate of the graveyard.

WOODY
I guess I’ll have to relocate now. Too many vampires in Manhattan already, with all
those lawyers and Wall Street speculators. And I need a new name. What about
Count Zelig, Vampire Lord of Bananas and the Tropical Islands? Too sunny, you
say? But it would be definitely better than the Shadows and Fog of this cemetery
for my rheumatics.

Woody wakes PERPLEXED IN HIS BED. He stands up.

WOODY
Wow, I bet that Fellini and Bergman didn’t have nightmares like these.

HIS WIFE turns still half-awake.

WIFE
Oh Woody, you always talk too much, just like in your movies. Now please shut
up, and be a good Sleeper.

Watch “Vampire Lord of Bananas” here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxnRWOMiupA

-o-
 007:THUNDERBALLS
The last secret mission of James Bond.

In a dark basement an aging man is bound naked to a chair, purple bruises on body and
face. He looks straight into the camera.

BOND
My name is Bond. James Bond.

In the shadows men stand in front of him, holding Kalashnikovs. Their faces are covered,
only their eyes are burning in the shadows.
When one of them speaks his voice is muffled, but hardly masks the hate.

TERRORIST
We know that, Mr. Bond. We were waiting at the hotel. We knew how to distract
you. Kidnapping you was the easy part. Do you think that we wouldn’t recognize
you only because you’re old and retired?

Bond smiles, thinking of the black woman smoking at the hotel. Looking at him like in the
good old times. Then her pal in the lift, pointing a gun at him.

BOND
I’m not retired. I’m still at Her Majesty’s service.

TERRORIST
You imperialist swine. It’s time you pay for all the people you killed.

BOND
I’ve got a license for that.

TERRORIST
That’s expired now, Mr. Bond. You only live twice. There won’t be a third life for
you.

BOND
Are you going to kill me with words?

TERRORIST
Nothing so painless. While you were unconscious, we connected electrodes to
your testicles.

BOND
I guess you tried that on yourself first.

TERRORIST
Let’s see how you joke now, Mr. Bond. Turn on the power!

His pals obey.

BUZZING, smell of barbeque, but Bond just smiles.

TERRORIST
Why are you smiling? Is it so funny to have your testicles electrocuted?
 BOND
It’s not my balls you’re frying. They have been removed 2 months ago. Too late, it
didn’t stop the cancer. All that screwing around I guess, but it was worth it.
Anyway, I was going to die in a couple of months. Time enough for one last
mission.

TERRORIST
This is one of your bluffs, Mr. Bond, isn’t it?

BOND
Not at all. There are miniature bombs where my testicles used to be, 2 little
thunderballs. The electricity you’re applying has started a 60 seconds countdown.
If I’m correct, by now there should be just 3 seconds left. 2… 1…

FLASH, BOOM, corpses flying away.

Then fire, and a figure still standing in the flames. Guess who?

BOND
I guess I need new implants now. I’ll have to ask Q for his biggest pair.

Bond grins, he looks even younger now. Figures, some people just don't know how to end
it.

Watch “007: Thunderballs” here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAOE-K_0DEY

-o-

LOVE AND DEATH IN DUSTVILLE

A tribute to Sergio Leone and Ingmar Bergman.

A PALE RIDER ON A BLACK HORSE. Wind howling in the desert, then it turns into his
voice.

PALE RIDER
You know me? I’m coming for you. Soon we’re gonna meet. Face to face.

The GUNSLINGER wakes in a bed.

GUNSLINGER
No!

The WHORE is taking a bath nearby.

WHORE
What, honey? Another nightmare?

GUNSLINGER
Guess so.
 WHORE
You with your visions and dreams.

GUNSLINGER
Too many dead. They won’t let me sleep in peace.

She stands up, still DRIPPING from the bath. Walks barefoot towards him.

WHORE
Had they been quicker, they wouldn’t be dead.

GUNSLINGER
Yeah. Could be one of them here with you now. Instead of me.

She stands naked in front of him. He looks at her, and forgets his nightmares.

WHORE
One or another is the same. Men are worth only what they can pay.

GUNSLINGER
So why don’t you come here, and earn your wage?

She does.
Afterwards, they go down together in the saloon.
The barman is behind the counter, glad for the chance to let some stale air out of his
mouth.

BARMAN
Wind’s blowing from the desert. Feels like the breath of Hell.

GUNSLINGER
Just hearing it makes me thirsty.

BARMAN
(pouring) Sorry, beer’s warm as horse piss.

GUNSLINGER
Can’t taste worse than my mouth. (drinks and burps) …but it comes close.

BARMAN
Days like these, only scorpions and rattlesnakes venture outside.

The whore is looking outside the window.

WHORE
No, look. Someone is coming.

GUNSLINGER
How does he look like?

WHORE
Old fellow, all in black, pale as bones.

GUNSLINGER
What’s he doing?
 WHORE
Just stands there, as if waiting for someone.

The gunslinger puts the glass on the counter.

GUNSLINGER
Yeah. I can guess who he’s waiting for...

He goes OUT. Hotter than he thought, a real hell. He looks at the pale rider.

GUNSLINGER
Ain’t you too old to play these games?

PALE RIDER
Older than you think. But time is on my side.

GUNSLINGER
Who are you?

PALE RIDER
Don’t you know me? I’ve been following you for a long time.

The gunslinger lights a cigarette. He draws, lingers, lets the smoke out.

GUNSLINGER
I see now. You’re Death. Have you come for me?

PALE RIDER
The Reaper comes when the harvest is ripe.

GUNSLINGER
You’ll have to be quick, you know.

PALE RIDER
Enough with words. Let the guns speak.

The gunslinger draws first. Shooting as straight as it's quick, but this time it's not enough.
The pale rider is still standing. He didn't even try to draw his gun.

PALE RIDER
That was quick. Real quick. And all through the heart. But Death has no heart,
didn’t you know it? Doesn’t matter. My bullet was inside you even before your first
shot. A little vein in your neck, ready to burst. Here it goes now…

Surprise on the gunslinger's face. He COUGHS once, then he goes DOWN.

He is not moving when the pale rider stands over him.

PALE RIDER
A stroke. It’s what I use when I’m being kind. For all those fools that you sent me.

He gets on the horse. HOOVES move away from the corpse.

The whore is standing out of the saloon.

PALE RIDER
Aaah, life is such a frail little thing. So quick to go. Just like beauty. Just like love.
When Dustville is at his back, the pale rider spurs the horse on.

PALE RIDER
Yaaah… ah, ah, ah…

The wind takes them all away. The laughter for last.

Watch “Love and Death in Dustville” here:

http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=mlXRYF0l9co