Post by Eddie Ellis on Sept 13, 2015 2:45:39 GMT
THE TWO SONS
We open to another dank interior – this time in the Bigfoot Tribe Courtroom. A judge – Elder Bigfoot – sits high and mighty above his audience of tribe members hailing from the Redwood Forest all the way to the boons of New England.
The congregation of giants roar as Hijo is ushered out in shit-twine shackles.
"ORDDDERRR! ORDER IN THE COURT!"
The Elder brings the audience to a simmer for the moment. Hijo – sporting jailhouse attire made from fur – takes center stage facing the judge.
“We gather hear today to determine whether this man – EL HIJO DE POLLO – is guilty of crimes against Bigfoot. These crimes include - but are not limited to - unprovoked assault of a Bigfoot, name-calling such as ‘hairy f-word’ or ‘homo’…”
As the list continues Hijo shakes his head as if to disapprove the veracity of these charges.
“…stolen property such as the prized Parts Unknown Championship, sexual intercourse with a female Bigfoot…”
Hijo nods enthusiastically. He definitely did THAT.
“… If found guilty, Mr. Pollo will face execution by Bigfoot. As in any other case – we will allow this man the floor in his own defense. Mr. Pollo you may commence with your oral argument.”
“Alright listen up – I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
The audience gasps at the vulgarity.
“The Trios tournament starts soon and you shits have me locked up in some cage made of bamboo, Bigfoot crap, and twinkie wrappers. Do you realize that not only is that extremely easy to escape from – it’s a fucking United Nations violation, dude. The only reason I haven’t escaped is because I don’t know where the fuck we are.”
“We are in the house of Bigfoot, Mr. Pollo. You remember that next time you use that language.”
“Let me explain this to you like you’re a disabled kid from Botswanna. Me – win Trios tournament. Me – win $500. Me – fame. You – you go fuck yourself.”
The gathering erupts at Hijo’s vocabulary.
“WE ARE A CLASSY PEOPLE DAMMIT.”
The tribe silences once more at the sound of Elder’s giant gavel smacking the block.
“Mr. Pollo... for far too long we’ve hid in the darkness of a bright world. We wish to embark on this journey to fame with you – to expose the world to who we really are: giants with hearts. Will you take one of us in exchange for your freedom?"
Hijo looks around – impressed by the sheer size of these creatures.”
“Absolutely.”
“Who are the opponents?”
“There’s a group called The Breakfast Club – except only one of them is a breakfast. Then there’s some spoiled Canadians-“
“It is hereby my decision to grant El Hijo de Pollo life under one condition – he must accompany my son BIGFOOT JR. to the tournament. Son – please rise for Mr. Pollo.”
The audience remains still and silent except for the struggles of a creature trying to be seen – a Bigfoot about yay high.
“FUCCKKKKKK ME.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
We open to another dank interior – this time in the Bigfoot Tribe Courtroom. A judge – Elder Bigfoot – sits high and mighty above his audience of tribe members hailing from the Redwood Forest all the way to the boons of New England.
The congregation of giants roar as Hijo is ushered out in shit-twine shackles.
"ORDDDERRR! ORDER IN THE COURT!"
The Elder brings the audience to a simmer for the moment. Hijo – sporting jailhouse attire made from fur – takes center stage facing the judge.
“We gather hear today to determine whether this man – EL HIJO DE POLLO – is guilty of crimes against Bigfoot. These crimes include - but are not limited to - unprovoked assault of a Bigfoot, name-calling such as ‘hairy f-word’ or ‘homo’…”
As the list continues Hijo shakes his head as if to disapprove the veracity of these charges.
“…stolen property such as the prized Parts Unknown Championship, sexual intercourse with a female Bigfoot…”
Hijo nods enthusiastically. He definitely did THAT.
“… If found guilty, Mr. Pollo will face execution by Bigfoot. As in any other case – we will allow this man the floor in his own defense. Mr. Pollo you may commence with your oral argument.”
“Alright listen up – I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
The audience gasps at the vulgarity.
“The Trios tournament starts soon and you shits have me locked up in some cage made of bamboo, Bigfoot crap, and twinkie wrappers. Do you realize that not only is that extremely easy to escape from – it’s a fucking United Nations violation, dude. The only reason I haven’t escaped is because I don’t know where the fuck we are.”
“We are in the house of Bigfoot, Mr. Pollo. You remember that next time you use that language.”
“Let me explain this to you like you’re a disabled kid from Botswanna. Me – win Trios tournament. Me – win $500. Me – fame. You – you go fuck yourself.”
The gathering erupts at Hijo’s vocabulary.
“WE ARE A CLASSY PEOPLE DAMMIT.”
The tribe silences once more at the sound of Elder’s giant gavel smacking the block.
“Mr. Pollo... for far too long we’ve hid in the darkness of a bright world. We wish to embark on this journey to fame with you – to expose the world to who we really are: giants with hearts. Will you take one of us in exchange for your freedom?"
Hijo looks around – impressed by the sheer size of these creatures.”
“Absolutely.”
“Who are the opponents?”
“There’s a group called The Breakfast Club – except only one of them is a breakfast. Then there’s some spoiled Canadians-“
“It is hereby my decision to grant El Hijo de Pollo life under one condition – he must accompany my son BIGFOOT JR. to the tournament. Son – please rise for Mr. Pollo.”
The audience remains still and silent except for the struggles of a creature trying to be seen – a Bigfoot about yay high.
“FUCCKKKKKK ME.”
TO BE CONTINUED...