Howy, ya fuckin hero. I knew I could rely on you. I always have… just like back in ‘Nam. You remember that? Back in ‘Nam? The Peninsula Hotel, cocktails at dawn, naked pigmies doing the tango on our waterbed… Good times, good times man.
As for the heabutting? Forgeddaboutit.
Stupid idea. I don’t know where I got that one from. Some bigshot burst into my office and starts headbutting all the plant pots in my office, then my desk, then my personal assistant Julian and I get a hard on, you know what I mean? I can’t help it, I’m a red-blooded male. Speaking of which, cancel the project, but keep the $20 big ones coming and put me in touch with Corey Feldman’s butt. I got a couple of ideas vis-a-vis his butt, some touching, and huge wads of cash.
So I get a visit from some beefcake the other day. He talks like a goddamn nazi but let me tell you, he is BIG! I mean, his guns are bigger than my jowls, and I have some big jowls lemme tell ya am I right? His name is Adam, or Arnold, or Storkenjager or something. So he’s chomping on a cigar and bench-pressing my secretary and suddenly I got it… the box-office smash of the summer.
One man alone in the jungle. He’s a lumberjack. And he gets cut off from his squad of other lumberjack buddies. Trapped in the perilous jungle, he realizes… he isn’t alone. Yeah that’s right.
There’s an alien in the jungle. And he’s ANGRY! No wait. He’s…. MAD AS HELL! But here’s the best part… the alien as actually… his TWIN BROTHER! In an experiment gone wrong.
It was the soviets that did it. And the beefcake guy is actually the world waterskiing champion of New Jersey. Can he use his waterskiing skills to stay alive long enough to get rescued by his buddies? Will the alien learn the secret of Moo-moo cave before it’s too late? I got no fuckin idea but someone’s gonna have to write the thing and figure that out. Throw in a coupla assploding helicopters, a motorbike chase scene, two (maybe seven) nuclear esplosions, a dog being decapitated, a soundtrack by Wham, a daring bank robbery involving the robbers dressing up as women (can we get Corey Feldman for this?), seventeen worms being stamped on by a rabid llama, a drug deal being busted by some cops with huge (I mean huge – about 3 metres long on each side) mustaches, fourteen, maybe fifteen boat chases, some kind of monument asploding (Empire State? Liberty?), some zombies, an underground boxing match, and we’re laughing all the way to the bank.
That’s a rap. Get that guy, Johnny Wergenstrom, to write it and Jon Landis to direct. If it’s out by next week I’ll be a happy man.
Love,
Ruudy.
PS I’ll be flying my private jet to the top of your office building on 57th and 3rd tomorrow morning. Seeing as it’s only one block away from where I am now, I got to make a detour to the grand canyon to make the trip worthwhile, but let’s do lunch… Book out Harrry’s Cafe over on 73rd and 9th then stuff it full of three-legged horses to fool the press, and we’ll go to Acapulco for some steaks.
And bring that secretary of yours… what’s his name… Mario. Yeah!
PS Corey Feldman.
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