Spring Forward: A Dinosaurs' Tale

[RedPiggy]

Well, unbeknownst to Robbie, Zondra is hinting that as a hacker she was VERY helpful getting him into school without all the red tape, LOL.

 

[The Count]

We probably won't see Kermit talking to Robbie (well, Kermit for sure, LOL), simply because the Sinclairs aren't in New York and I really can't see the logic for Kermit to just randomly head over to Oregon in the middle of nowhere.

Well... Kerm could decide to go visit Koosbay, Oregon... Since that's reportedly the inspiration for the name of a planet infested with creatures he regularly interviewed. *CoughKoozbanecough*

 

[RedPiggy]

I don't want to get too wrapped up in squeezing Muppets in that I forget the story. There are members of a particular organization that is vital to the plot in this movie, so those Muppets other than Whatnots are the ones that will be featured. Pointless cameos are bad cameos, LOL.

 

[ZeppoAndFriends]

That whole scene with Roy was great! He's always been one of my favorite characters, which makes his pain here all the more terrible.

And I gotta go with Earl and Ethel on this one...

Zondra? Heh, that's not the female voice I expected to covertly contact Robbie. Hexcellent.
*Leaves brownies.

HOLY COW! Other people commenting!

Zondra...Zondra...Why does that sound so familiar? I'm probably going to be kicking myself when I find out.

 

[RedPiggy]

Zondra was a goth chick Muppet from the Jim Henson Hour, part of a group that tried to hack into Muppet Central's broadcasts every once in awhile.

 

[The Count]

It's okay Kell... Just keep writing the story how you feel it should flow. *Waiting for some cameos I kinda know about, but won't say anything.

Zeppo... Zondra's from the Gorilla TV segments from The Jim Henson Hour.

 

[RedPiggy]

[Fade-in. Richfield is busily researching on the internet with equipment large enough to enable him to type. There is a knock at his door and he nods for the visitor to enter. A Caucasian male in his late thirties walks in and sits down. He’s dressed in a beige sports coat, dark brown pants, and a white long-sleeved shirt. He carries a white cowboy hat in his hands. Ominous music plays.]

Visitor: I trust you got my email, Mr. Richfield.

Richfield (doesn’t look at him, continues working on the computer): I fail to see the value of your proposal.

Visitor (smirks): You dinos got an awful big appetite. *frowns* The issues regarding the latest health food craze has been a sore spot in our sides more times than we can count. We’re bleedin’ money. We could be set for life if you dinos sign off on exclusive contracts.

Richfield (smirks): You’d risk your future on a niche market? Trust me when I say I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, son. Health fads are like fads to save the rain forest – temporary. Just hole up in your den and wait it out. Your prey will get hungry enough to get back into striking distance. *glances at the visitor sharply*

Visitor (unfazed): My father used to tell me that a cowboy should always make friends with his most powerful horse.

Richfield (stares at the visitor, clasping his hands): Your father was a failed fast food peddler with neither talent nor money.

Visitor (chuckles): I’m twice the man my father was.

Richfield (looks him up and down): You seem to be about half. Your father coulda sat on you and no one’d know you were there. You’re also here to see me, which means you haven’t seriously considered your personal well-being, Mr. Hopper.

Mr. Hopper (frowns): Let’s not get upset, Mr. Richfield.

Richfield (shakes his head): Ooooh, I’m not upset – not in the least. *smiles* You got gumption. I respect gumption! You come here, offer a financial incentive – all without wetting your slacks – I gotta give your proposal some thought, now don’t I?

Mr. Hopper (nods, grinning, leaning back in his chair): I’d be much obliged, Mr. Richfield.

Richfield (nods): Good! Come back to me with a proposal that doesn’t sound like it came from a fourth-grade social studies assignment! *pounds desk angrily* Get out!

[The scene flip transitions to the National Park, where Spike is joined by a short turtle-faced dinosaur, with spherical sunglasses and a black leather vest over a red t-shirt, and a tall green dinosaur with an alligator-like snout, with a short-sleeved black leather jacket and a red backwards cap. They amble through the forest. Spike randomly snaps branches as they walk. The ominous music has stopped.]

Brown dinosaur (speaks in a high-pitched gravelly male voice): Hey … thanks for pickin’ us up, Brother Spike.

Green dinosaur (speaks in a husky male voice): Yeah … thanks. It’s great to have the pack goin’ ‘round an’ committing heinous acts again.

Spike (serious): Life just ain’t complete wit’out Scabby *the camera settles on the green one* an’ Crazy Lou *the camera settles on the brown one*. Am I right?

Crazy Lou: Uh, Brother Spike, to what do we owe this particular excursion?

Scabby: You an’ Rob --.

Spike (shoots them a deadly glance)

Scabby: Ah. You’re just bored this mornin’. *shrugs* Happens ta us all the time.

Crazy Lou (nods): Right.

Spike (heads forward again): I gotta get back inta my groove, my fellow Scavengers. I was da Scourge o’ da Swamp! No one caught my scent an’ didn’t soak their boots. *pauses, with a disgusted tone* I’ve been turned into da “rebel wit’ a heart o’ gold”. *kicks down a tree, with a sullen tone* I woulda preferred bein’ frozen sixty million years ago.

[The scene fade transitions as they reach an area populated with lots of plants with distinctive leaves. A couple of grimy humans, dressed in blue accessories, who were sitting down eating and drinking, pop up and start waving guns at the Scavengers. The music is harsh and low, demonstrating the deadliness of the situation.]

Criminal 1: I think you put your nose where it don’t belong, Dead Rags.

Criminal 2: Check it out! Book an’ we’ll drive up on ya!

Scabby (puzzled): You ain’t got a car, man.

Crazy Lou (elbows Scabby, adjusting his glasses): I believe he may be suggesting he and his partner shall engage in rather violent assaults upon our persons.

Scabby (surprised): Really? (sighs) I wish Lingo was here. We need a new translator.

Criminal 2: Yo, man – lizard – whatever you are – we represent! We’re gonna --.

Spike (rolls his eyes and kicks down a tree, flattening Criminal 2)

Criminal 1 (wets himself, drops the gun, stammering incoherently, the music stopping)

Crazy Lou (shrugs, taking out a gang slang dictionary): I don’t think this is the most current edition. *slaps the book shut, flabbergasted* I don’t have the slightest inkling about the contents of his whimpering.

Spike (calmly, somewhat bemused, to Criminal 1): What’s dis stuff yer growin’ here, bro?

Criminal 1 (shaking): Jus’ tryin’ ta help bros get in the clouds, man.

Spike (looks around, grinning): Here, lemme help. *picks up Criminal 1*

[A shot just above the tree canopy, with the sun near its noon position. Suddenly, Criminal 1 is seen rocketing up through the air, complete with flailing arms and legs and the Wilhelm scream. The scene cuts back to Spike, who’s dusting his hands and turning around to his friends, smiling. Moments later Criminal 1 can be heard crashing to the ground.]

Spike (chuckling): Well, now – I have come to da conclusion dat human tossing is a hobby best suited ta guys like us, agreed?

Crazy Lou and Scabby (cheering): Agreed!

Spike (claps his hands once): Good! Let’s go find some uddah morons in blue an’ make ‘em kiss da sky.

[Fade-out.]

 

[RedPiggy]

[Fade-in. Late afternoon in the Sinclair living room. Fran is pacing back and forth while Ethyl watches.]

Ethyl: Fran, don’t do this to yourself. We’re not exactly downtown. Even getting to the mall would take awhile.

Fran (agitated): Charlene should’ve been back by now. What if something’s happened? The park radio says that they’ve had problems finding humans dead throughout the forest. What if something happened to Charlene?

Baby (barely able to toddle into the living room, resting himself on the arch bordering the living room, dressed in a beret and sunglasses, struggling to stand up): I’m … uh … ready for … uh … my close-up!

Fran (still pacing): My poor little baby could be dead!

Baby (angrily): Hey! I’m right here!

Fran (curtly): Not you!

Baby (whimpers briefly, then bawls)

Ethyl (glares at Baby): What do you think you’re doing?

Baby (stops crying immediately, coyly): Practicing my award speech.

Ethyl: What makes you think you’d win? You could lose, you know.

Baby: That’s why I’m … *inhales deeply* … cryiiiiiiiing! WAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Ethyl (rolls her eyes and sighs): Fran, have you tried calling her?

Fran (still highly agitated): She doesn’t have a cell phone!

[The phone rings. The camera follows Fran as she answers the phone in the kitchen.]

Fran: Hello? Charlene! *sighs with relief* Where are --? *listens for a few moments, getting angrier and angrier* You … are … where? How could you be in jail? Wh-what? P-P-Pearl took you … I can’t … she … how dare she … you … ARRRRGH! *slams phone on the hook*

[Flip transition to Charlene, rubbing her ear and putting the phone back as a concerned Pearl stands next to her among a group of police.]

Charlene (shrugs, turns to Pearl): Well, she actually took that “better” than I thought.

Pearl (encouraging): Don’t worry, Charlene. I’ll get us out of this mess.

Charlene (shakes her head as she lets the cops lead them back to their cell): No – something tells me I’m safer in the Big House.

[The scene cuts to Earl working on a construction site. He throws a bunch of timbers on a pile, dusts his hands, and walks over to Sid and Gus, who are taking a break. Sid is a brown turtle-faced dinosaur, like Crazy Lou, but wearing just a t-shirt. Gus is a brown dinosaur, taller and heavier than Sid, with short horns on his head and one on his nose.]

Earl (sighs): C’mon, guys – there’s work to be done!

Sid (takes a sip of bottled water): C’mon, Earl, give us a break.

Gus (nods): Yeah, this ain’t the redwoods. Richfield ain’t here watchin’ us. What’s the big deal if we take a break?

Earl (stares at them dryly): How many have you had in a two-hour period?

Gus (looks at Sid, shrugs, looks at Earl): Uh ….

Earl (sighs): Guys, I got you guys hired so I’d have someone I can relate to! How’s it gonna look when my hand-picked coworkers just sit on their tails all day long?

Sid: It’s not like we didn’t sit on our tails all day long sixty million years ago, Earl.

Gus (nods): He’s right! We’ve got sixty million years to catch up on our break.

Sid (nods, tipping his water bottle to Earl): Yeah. “Work smarter, not harder.” *nods toward Gus* Even these humans are wise enough to believe in worksite wisdom.

Gus (nods, chuckling): Yeah. Workin’ slobs have maintained a barely visible level of productivity for millions of years! It’s … tradition!

Sid (nods): Exactly.

Earl (sighs, shaking his head): Sheesh.

[The scene cuts to a temporary rectangular trailer. Lots of workers are busily working. A man steps out of the trailer and waves.]

Human foreman: Yo, Sinclair! Phone!

Earl (nods and walks to the trailer, taking the phone from the foreman): Probably the wife. *smirks, puts the phone up to his ear* Hello?

Richfield’s voice: Sinclair!

Earl (jumps, startled)

Richfield’s voice (chuckles): Sorry ‘bout that. Just wanted to jerk you around for ol’ times’ sake.

Earl (nods): How very thoughtful of you, sir.

Richfield’s voice: I was thinking of hiring my former workers for a particular proposal. I need to discredit the health food industry and the green energy movement.

Earl: Uh, to be kinda honest, I’m trying to watch my weight now. And the gas used to power machines was formed by our dying carcasses, Mr. Richfield. I don’t think exploiting the bodies of our fallen compatriots is the right way to go. Sid and Gus … well, they’re kinda … uh, busy … at the moment. I can’t even find Roy. There’s no telling where he went.

Richfield’s voice: Hmmm. I see. I suppose you have a point. However, if I happen to hear from Hess, I’ll be happy to let you know.

Earl (cringes): You already know where he is, don’t you, sir?

Richfield: Mmmhmm. He’s creating a bit of a stir at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry. Making himself somewhat of a celebrity. It’s in Portland. It’d take you just a few hours to head on up there and go get him.

Earl (nods): Yeah, if you have a car. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a whole lot of vehicles designed for dinosaurs, Mr. Richfield.

Richfield’s voice (irritated): I gave you valuable information, Sinclair. I expect a thank-you.

Earl (shrugs): Oh, thanks!

Richfield’s voice (aggravated): I expect you to help me burn our presence into the minds of these hairy global parasites, you stumbling pile of reptile lard!

Earl (sighs, smiling, gaining his confidence): You know what, sir? The last time I helped you with that, we bombed an entire supercontinent and destroyed the entire ecosystem. It’s become apparent to me that you and Wesayso were dead wrong about what was right for our world – and I’m sorry I ever let myself get talked into working for you! Let’s see how wonderful you look without your little henchmen to do your dirty work for you, sir.

Richfield’s voice (stammering): Wh-wh-why you l-little rotten --!

Earl (chuckles triumphantly as he hangs up the phone and gets back to work)

[Fade-out.]

 

[ZeppoAndFriends]

Hopper! HOPPER! HOP-PER!

HOLY SMOKES! HOLY COW! HOLY ONE-EYED ONE-HORNED FLYING PURPLE POEPLE EATER!

(This over dramatic performance was brought to you by me)

And now on to the next part:

Go Earl! And Baby practicing an award speech? For what?

Can't wait for more!

 

[RedPiggy]

LOL ...

Well, I needed a weasel-y business man and figured the son of Hopper might do the trick. I was thinking of using a legislator at first, but didn't want to end up getting flamed, LOL.

Baby is practicing for the movie/show Fran is thinking of writing. Basically, I'm headed for the idea that the series we've watched was written to give dinosaurs something they could really relate to, inspired by some commercial bumpers and the 4th wall-breaking thing at the end of A New Leaf. True, the movie takes place "present day", or more or less 2010, but in this universe, the show airs around now instead of the 90s.

If a page at 12-point font is roughly a minute, I'm up to almost thirty. Sigh. This might be more of an hour-long pilot/tv movie than a theatrical feature, which is really sad, but I can't put a whole lot more filler in that I already am. At least I have plenty of time to work on character story arcs before the brown stuff hits the fan at the climax.