Post by RaceFanX on Aug 17, 2007 20:18:18 GMT -5
(Dale Arthur sits in a chair directly across from the camera discussing his plan. He is wearing his RaceFanX getup. The background changes after every word, clearly he had to give this speech several times to several different people. Some of the background repeat)
RaceFanX: I've been thinking long and hard about my future. I've got to get to Europe soon to start racing. I can no longer hold up my duties of RaceFanX. But someone has to be here to make sure that the DeVils don't just run wild. I need someone to pass the moniker to. I've thought, long and hard, but I've reached a decision. You are the one I want to succeed me as RaceFanX. What do you say?
(Cut to the other side of the table where one-by-one we see who he was talking to)
Roger: Ah, no. I'm not the vengeful type
Anita: I like my boss, she's a little bad but overall she's okay.
Nanny: No thank you
Pops: Nope, I'm too old.
Amber: Nope, I'm too young
Starbuck: No
Dr. Whitaker: No
Mayor: No
Dog Catcher: No
Pamela Lee Frizzle: No
Ahab: Kill the White Whale!
Martin: No
Tye: No
(Dale has a dejected look on his face. Meanwhile at Villa DeVil, Cruella is slightly depressed but plotting her next evil scheme)
Cruella: Oh it never works, nothing ever works. It's like my life is story written especially so that I never win.
Horace: Why would you say that Miss DeVil?
Jasper: Yeah, I mean you're one of the richest people in the world. I'd say your winning.
Cruella: I'm talking about that Dearly farm. No matter what I do, those dang dogs, or any of their friends, always screw it all up.
Horace: Oh come on, we're come close.
Cruella: No you haven't, I have a few times, but everytime I hire you, you nimrods blow it. Why can't you be more like Harvey and Penske, your cousins actually get the job done.
Jasper: Well yeah, but...ah...
Horace: We're wittier and more lovable.
Cruella: I don't care about love! I want to win. Perhaps it's time I give your cousins a call again.
(The scene transitions to a fast food resturant in Grutley, a Rally's to be specific. Rally's features no interior to eat, only several tables outside next to a small parking lot. Most of the business comes thru the two seperate drive-thrus on either side of the building. A place to customers to walk up and order is on the front of the building. Grutley's Rally's appears to located on top of a hill with a pretty good grade on it. The pups walk around the back of the building and head for the dumpster, clearly out for a snack. Spot is missing, probably nervous about a resturant that serves a lot of chicken.)
Rolly: Come on guys, I smell fries that aren't quite cold and stale yet.
Lucky: Alright Rolly.
(A munching sound is heard)
Cadpig: Starting early Rolly.
Rolly: That's not me.
(The dals rush around the back of the dumpster to investigate, only to find Go-Go looking somewhat sickly. He's munching on a half-eaten hamburger patty from the trash but he's obvivously not been eating much. He's skinner than usual. His limp is more subtile but he's still not in good shape)
Lucky: Holy cow! Go-Go, is that you.
(He looks up from the dried out burger)
Go-Go: Yeah, it's me.
Lucky: But you're dead, it was on the news. Cruella put you down.
Go-Go: Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.
Cadpig: You look terrible. No offensive.
Go-Go: None taken, its my worst fears realized. I wasn't any good for racing anymore and Cruella basically threw me out on the streets.
Rolly: It's unfair, you were the best and now she's written you off and left you for dead. You're still a good dog.
Go-Go: Yeah, for what. Dr. Whitaker said I'll never race again. I lived to race, to go fast. It's what greyhounds do and now what am I good for. Nothing.
Lucky: Don't say that Go-Go you just need the opportunity to show what you've got.
Go-Go: Besides a gimp leg? Not much.
(The pups stare on in silence. Suddenly the silence is shatted by the roar of two engines, one brutally American, the other refined and Italian. It's RaceFanX's white Mercury Marquis which pulls up and parks in the lot. It's the car behind it that turns heads, a white and blue Maserati MC12 sports car. The slick speed machine is capable of over 200 MPH stock and costs more than 1.2 million Dollars (600,000 Euros). Who could own such a machine? The dogs watch as a business deal starts to go down. RaceFanX climbs out his car thru the window like NASCAR drivers do, he doesn't notice that he forgot to set the Marquis' emergency break. The Maserati's door opens as its driver gets out, Cruella's fasion rival Ralphie St. Laurent)
RaceFanX: Now that's a car! My god, they only built 50 of these things.
Ralphie St. Laurent: Yes, she's a great tool of authority and she has the speed to back up the looks but we're not here to discuss my sports car, you had a propsition for me. Let's get down to it.
(The two each buy food and sit down at a table)
RaceFanX: Cruella DeVil has screwed you over many times.
Ralphie: Indeed she has, she attempts industrial spying every week.
RaceFanX: Well, I'll cut to the chase. I'm done being RaceFanX and I want to give you a chance to fight her back as the new RaceFanX.
Ralphie: I'm not interested
(No one seems to notice the Marquis is starting to slip backward)
RaceFanX: Oh come on, I know for a fact your a race fan Laurent. Besides your hot rod over there, you've owned a Formula One race team since 1987.
Ralphie: I bought that mainly to keep up the Benettons. Friendly rivalary you know. Just for fun. I'm not interested.
RaceFanX: Darn it, you were the last one on my list of possible canidates. I'm not giving up though. All I need for a new RaceFanX is someone with that drive for revenge against the DeVils. If I find someone like that I can mold them into the perfect successor. A Matt Kenseth to my Mark Martin if you will.
Ralphie: Huh?
RaceFanX: It's a racing thing. Do you know anybody with a grudge against Cruella. They don't need to be a racefan, most of the people I already asked weren't, and I can teach them all the tricks they'd need to know.
Ralphie: Sorry X, I don't.
(RaceFanX finally notices his car sliding backward as it begins to pick up speed)
RaceFanX: Dang! MY CAR!
(He starts to chase after it as it leaves the parking lot and starts to slide down the hill. The dogs just watch)
Lucky: Come on we gotta help him catch it.
(The dals take off in pursuit)
Cadpig: Come on Go-Go we've got to help him catch that car. You're fast, you can do it.
Go-Go: I...I...Alright.
(Go-Go leaps out from behind the resturant's dumpster and joins the pups to chase the car down. The dogs catch and pass RaceFanX as they run down the grassy hill. Time is running out as the Marquis gets close to traffic. Adreline starts to pump thru Go-Go's vains. He speeds up passing the pups and catching the car. He leaps in the window and spikes the brakes. The car sreeches to a stop just before entering a busy intersection, barely avoiding being t-boned by a school bus. RaceFanX is wowed.)
RaceFanX: Whoa, him I can work with. That's the new RaceFanX.
(The dals and X approach the car)
RaceFanX: Hold it right there doggie.
Go-Go: Well, maybe I'll get a meal out of this.
RaceFanX: Good dog! Good, good dog!
Lucky: I would had it in another 100 feet.
RaceFanX: What's your name pooch?
(He grabs Go-Go's tattered collar)
RaceFanX: Go-Go, where have I heard that before?...My gosh, the fastest dog in the world. You are perfect. Move over, we're going for a ride.
(Go-Go gets into the passengers seat as X gets behind the wheel. The pups climb in the backseat of the car's blue leather interior as X starts up the car and drives away. Mounted just under the Mercury logo on the steering wheel is a telephone-style keypad. He clicks buttons 1-0-1-Enter. A computer screen in the car displays the text "Dog-to-English translator Engaged". The simple plot device listens to canine barks and translates them to human English as text on the computer screen. It's not perfect but it gets the job done.)
RaceFanX: That was amazing Go-Go, especially for a dead dog. I saw the news and must say I'm pleased to see you alive.
Go-Go: Ah, yeah I guess.
X: You're accident was the fault of a faulty maintance caused by Cruella pinching pennies wasn't it.
Go-Go: Pretty much.
RaceFanX: Good, you have a reason to want to get back at her. You are perfect. I want you to be the new RaceFanX.
Go-Go: Huh?
RaceFanX: I need to pass the torch. I'll assume she throw you out like an old newspaper, which means you probably need a roof over your head. If you accept my terms of becoming the new RaceFanX I'll adopt you as my pet. You can stay at my place.
Go-Go: I've heard of you RaceFanX and I can't fill your shoes. I'm a dog. I can't drive...and I don't know the first thing about car racing.
RaceFanX: I'll teach you, you already have the intensity of a racer. And more importantly this gig will give you a place to live.
Go-Go: I do want a chance to prove her wrong but what good am I, the vet says I'll never race again.
RaceFanX: We'll get you back in shape. I can teach you how to drive, I'll call in a favor with Patriot and company to get you a car, and I'll get folks who know more about getting a dog back in shape than any vet.
Lucky: Who?
X: I was kind of hoping you guys would. Ya up to it.
Lucky: You bet.
RaceFanX: Choice is yours Go-Go. Life on the streets or a chance for redemption.
Go-Go: Alright...I'll do it.
RaceFanX: I've been thinking long and hard about my future. I've got to get to Europe soon to start racing. I can no longer hold up my duties of RaceFanX. But someone has to be here to make sure that the DeVils don't just run wild. I need someone to pass the moniker to. I've thought, long and hard, but I've reached a decision. You are the one I want to succeed me as RaceFanX. What do you say?
(Cut to the other side of the table where one-by-one we see who he was talking to)
Roger: Ah, no. I'm not the vengeful type
Anita: I like my boss, she's a little bad but overall she's okay.
Nanny: No thank you
Pops: Nope, I'm too old.
Amber: Nope, I'm too young
Starbuck: No
Dr. Whitaker: No
Mayor: No
Dog Catcher: No
Pamela Lee Frizzle: No
Ahab: Kill the White Whale!
Martin: No
Tye: No
(Dale has a dejected look on his face. Meanwhile at Villa DeVil, Cruella is slightly depressed but plotting her next evil scheme)
Cruella: Oh it never works, nothing ever works. It's like my life is story written especially so that I never win.
Horace: Why would you say that Miss DeVil?
Jasper: Yeah, I mean you're one of the richest people in the world. I'd say your winning.
Cruella: I'm talking about that Dearly farm. No matter what I do, those dang dogs, or any of their friends, always screw it all up.
Horace: Oh come on, we're come close.
Cruella: No you haven't, I have a few times, but everytime I hire you, you nimrods blow it. Why can't you be more like Harvey and Penske, your cousins actually get the job done.
Jasper: Well yeah, but...ah...
Horace: We're wittier and more lovable.
Cruella: I don't care about love! I want to win. Perhaps it's time I give your cousins a call again.
(The scene transitions to a fast food resturant in Grutley, a Rally's to be specific. Rally's features no interior to eat, only several tables outside next to a small parking lot. Most of the business comes thru the two seperate drive-thrus on either side of the building. A place to customers to walk up and order is on the front of the building. Grutley's Rally's appears to located on top of a hill with a pretty good grade on it. The pups walk around the back of the building and head for the dumpster, clearly out for a snack. Spot is missing, probably nervous about a resturant that serves a lot of chicken.)
Rolly: Come on guys, I smell fries that aren't quite cold and stale yet.
Lucky: Alright Rolly.
(A munching sound is heard)
Cadpig: Starting early Rolly.
Rolly: That's not me.
(The dals rush around the back of the dumpster to investigate, only to find Go-Go looking somewhat sickly. He's munching on a half-eaten hamburger patty from the trash but he's obvivously not been eating much. He's skinner than usual. His limp is more subtile but he's still not in good shape)
Lucky: Holy cow! Go-Go, is that you.
(He looks up from the dried out burger)
Go-Go: Yeah, it's me.
Lucky: But you're dead, it was on the news. Cruella put you down.
Go-Go: Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.
Cadpig: You look terrible. No offensive.
Go-Go: None taken, its my worst fears realized. I wasn't any good for racing anymore and Cruella basically threw me out on the streets.
Rolly: It's unfair, you were the best and now she's written you off and left you for dead. You're still a good dog.
Go-Go: Yeah, for what. Dr. Whitaker said I'll never race again. I lived to race, to go fast. It's what greyhounds do and now what am I good for. Nothing.
Lucky: Don't say that Go-Go you just need the opportunity to show what you've got.
Go-Go: Besides a gimp leg? Not much.
(The pups stare on in silence. Suddenly the silence is shatted by the roar of two engines, one brutally American, the other refined and Italian. It's RaceFanX's white Mercury Marquis which pulls up and parks in the lot. It's the car behind it that turns heads, a white and blue Maserati MC12 sports car. The slick speed machine is capable of over 200 MPH stock and costs more than 1.2 million Dollars (600,000 Euros). Who could own such a machine? The dogs watch as a business deal starts to go down. RaceFanX climbs out his car thru the window like NASCAR drivers do, he doesn't notice that he forgot to set the Marquis' emergency break. The Maserati's door opens as its driver gets out, Cruella's fasion rival Ralphie St. Laurent)
RaceFanX: Now that's a car! My god, they only built 50 of these things.
Ralphie St. Laurent: Yes, she's a great tool of authority and she has the speed to back up the looks but we're not here to discuss my sports car, you had a propsition for me. Let's get down to it.
(The two each buy food and sit down at a table)
RaceFanX: Cruella DeVil has screwed you over many times.
Ralphie: Indeed she has, she attempts industrial spying every week.
RaceFanX: Well, I'll cut to the chase. I'm done being RaceFanX and I want to give you a chance to fight her back as the new RaceFanX.
Ralphie: I'm not interested
(No one seems to notice the Marquis is starting to slip backward)
RaceFanX: Oh come on, I know for a fact your a race fan Laurent. Besides your hot rod over there, you've owned a Formula One race team since 1987.
Ralphie: I bought that mainly to keep up the Benettons. Friendly rivalary you know. Just for fun. I'm not interested.
RaceFanX: Darn it, you were the last one on my list of possible canidates. I'm not giving up though. All I need for a new RaceFanX is someone with that drive for revenge against the DeVils. If I find someone like that I can mold them into the perfect successor. A Matt Kenseth to my Mark Martin if you will.
Ralphie: Huh?
RaceFanX: It's a racing thing. Do you know anybody with a grudge against Cruella. They don't need to be a racefan, most of the people I already asked weren't, and I can teach them all the tricks they'd need to know.
Ralphie: Sorry X, I don't.
(RaceFanX finally notices his car sliding backward as it begins to pick up speed)
RaceFanX: Dang! MY CAR!
(He starts to chase after it as it leaves the parking lot and starts to slide down the hill. The dogs just watch)
Lucky: Come on we gotta help him catch it.
(The dals take off in pursuit)
Cadpig: Come on Go-Go we've got to help him catch that car. You're fast, you can do it.
Go-Go: I...I...Alright.
(Go-Go leaps out from behind the resturant's dumpster and joins the pups to chase the car down. The dogs catch and pass RaceFanX as they run down the grassy hill. Time is running out as the Marquis gets close to traffic. Adreline starts to pump thru Go-Go's vains. He speeds up passing the pups and catching the car. He leaps in the window and spikes the brakes. The car sreeches to a stop just before entering a busy intersection, barely avoiding being t-boned by a school bus. RaceFanX is wowed.)
RaceFanX: Whoa, him I can work with. That's the new RaceFanX.
(The dals and X approach the car)
RaceFanX: Hold it right there doggie.
Go-Go: Well, maybe I'll get a meal out of this.
RaceFanX: Good dog! Good, good dog!
Lucky: I would had it in another 100 feet.
RaceFanX: What's your name pooch?
(He grabs Go-Go's tattered collar)
RaceFanX: Go-Go, where have I heard that before?...My gosh, the fastest dog in the world. You are perfect. Move over, we're going for a ride.
(Go-Go gets into the passengers seat as X gets behind the wheel. The pups climb in the backseat of the car's blue leather interior as X starts up the car and drives away. Mounted just under the Mercury logo on the steering wheel is a telephone-style keypad. He clicks buttons 1-0-1-Enter. A computer screen in the car displays the text "Dog-to-English translator Engaged". The simple plot device listens to canine barks and translates them to human English as text on the computer screen. It's not perfect but it gets the job done.)
RaceFanX: That was amazing Go-Go, especially for a dead dog. I saw the news and must say I'm pleased to see you alive.
Go-Go: Ah, yeah I guess.
X: You're accident was the fault of a faulty maintance caused by Cruella pinching pennies wasn't it.
Go-Go: Pretty much.
RaceFanX: Good, you have a reason to want to get back at her. You are perfect. I want you to be the new RaceFanX.
Go-Go: Huh?
RaceFanX: I need to pass the torch. I'll assume she throw you out like an old newspaper, which means you probably need a roof over your head. If you accept my terms of becoming the new RaceFanX I'll adopt you as my pet. You can stay at my place.
Go-Go: I've heard of you RaceFanX and I can't fill your shoes. I'm a dog. I can't drive...and I don't know the first thing about car racing.
RaceFanX: I'll teach you, you already have the intensity of a racer. And more importantly this gig will give you a place to live.
Go-Go: I do want a chance to prove her wrong but what good am I, the vet says I'll never race again.
RaceFanX: We'll get you back in shape. I can teach you how to drive, I'll call in a favor with Patriot and company to get you a car, and I'll get folks who know more about getting a dog back in shape than any vet.
Lucky: Who?
X: I was kind of hoping you guys would. Ya up to it.
Lucky: You bet.
RaceFanX: Choice is yours Go-Go. Life on the streets or a chance for redemption.
Go-Go: Alright...I'll do it.