Live Free or Die Hard-of-Hearing
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Spoilers Ahead!
My Maryland readers may be interested to know that the current Die Hard movie takes place largely in Baltimore and environs, including the Social Security Administration where Jay works. It was a great movie. But here's how I would have written it:*
* The terrorists have targeted the Social Security building in Woodlawn, MD, for a major operation. Weeks of careful plotting have gone into the plans to penetrate the facility by stealth, and the terrorists now have an M.O.: they will wait till 5:01 pm on a Friday afternoon, after which time the facility will be completely vacated.
* It's 5:02. They're in. Pan the terrorists in black sneaking down a hallway to the mainframe computer.
* Cut to new shot: High up in the building in a small corner cubicle is a lone technical writer-slash-team leader who looks a little like the guy on CSI and a little like Andrea Bocelli. He is working late . . . using the SSA mainframe to calculate his earliest possible retirement date.
* Back to the mainframe. The terrorists are trying to break into the system and employ the mainframe to create economic havoc in the United States by disrupting the most vital, stable supplemental income known to man. But . . . they . . . can't . . . get . . . in . . . Nerdy evil IT guy looks up slowly at team of Germanic collaborators and says, "Something's going on here."
* Back to cubicle: Our hero the technical writer notices someone trying to cut into his retirement calculation program. He will not stand for it! Furiously, he types away, fending off the rogue program. Heroically he duels with the terrorist typist and seems to be winning until . . .
* Terrorists, at wit's end, have decided to try another approach. Their sick and perverted leader puts a Starbucks sippy cup with a "Merit Award---One Day Off" coupon taped to it inside the supply closet door. Lured by the smell of coffee, the Technical Writer slowly gets up, carefully approaches the sippy cup with his pica ruler in hand; spotting the day-off coupon but seeing no one, he reaches . . . and the door slams! He's trapped. Rapidly, he riffles through the supplies for the one item he knows can save him: the federal form for comp time accrual. He's stuck in the closet for the night, and he WILL get paid for it.
* The next week it's started to sink in. Seniors all over the United States have failed to get their Social Security payments. But there's just one thing that these young, hip, Danish-design-loving team of evildoers hasn't counted on: NO ONE stands between American seniors and their Social Security payments. They fought in World War II, and they KNOW how to handle firearms; they are the Greatest Generation. This already-cranky population explodes. Digging out old hand-grenades from their attics and golf clubs from their garages, they attack. The Germanic terrorists are stunned, wondering where they get their vigor and why they keep calling them "Gerry." America's seniors laugh when they ask for a cease-fire around happy hour to get some appletinis. "When we were your age, we made martinis out of PIG manure!" they claim.
* Cut to Florida retirement development. It's all over, and a group of seniors raises their whiskey glasses for a toast: "Hasta Del Boca Vista, Baby!"
*Disclaimer: Some plots points may have been stolen from one's brother.
-
Spoilers Ahead!
My Maryland readers may be interested to know that the current Die Hard movie takes place largely in Baltimore and environs, including the Social Security Administration where Jay works. It was a great movie. But here's how I would have written it:*
* The terrorists have targeted the Social Security building in Woodlawn, MD, for a major operation. Weeks of careful plotting have gone into the plans to penetrate the facility by stealth, and the terrorists now have an M.O.: they will wait till 5:01 pm on a Friday afternoon, after which time the facility will be completely vacated.
* It's 5:02. They're in. Pan the terrorists in black sneaking down a hallway to the mainframe computer.
* Cut to new shot: High up in the building in a small corner cubicle is a lone technical writer-slash-team leader who looks a little like the guy on CSI and a little like Andrea Bocelli. He is working late . . . using the SSA mainframe to calculate his earliest possible retirement date.
* Back to the mainframe. The terrorists are trying to break into the system and employ the mainframe to create economic havoc in the United States by disrupting the most vital, stable supplemental income known to man. But . . . they . . . can't . . . get . . . in . . . Nerdy evil IT guy looks up slowly at team of Germanic collaborators and says, "Something's going on here."
* Back to cubicle: Our hero the technical writer notices someone trying to cut into his retirement calculation program. He will not stand for it! Furiously, he types away, fending off the rogue program. Heroically he duels with the terrorist typist and seems to be winning until . . .
* Terrorists, at wit's end, have decided to try another approach. Their sick and perverted leader puts a Starbucks sippy cup with a "Merit Award---One Day Off" coupon taped to it inside the supply closet door. Lured by the smell of coffee, the Technical Writer slowly gets up, carefully approaches the sippy cup with his pica ruler in hand; spotting the day-off coupon but seeing no one, he reaches . . . and the door slams! He's trapped. Rapidly, he riffles through the supplies for the one item he knows can save him: the federal form for comp time accrual. He's stuck in the closet for the night, and he WILL get paid for it.
* The next week it's started to sink in. Seniors all over the United States have failed to get their Social Security payments. But there's just one thing that these young, hip, Danish-design-loving team of evildoers hasn't counted on: NO ONE stands between American seniors and their Social Security payments. They fought in World War II, and they KNOW how to handle firearms; they are the Greatest Generation. This already-cranky population explodes. Digging out old hand-grenades from their attics and golf clubs from their garages, they attack. The Germanic terrorists are stunned, wondering where they get their vigor and why they keep calling them "Gerry." America's seniors laugh when they ask for a cease-fire around happy hour to get some appletinis. "When we were your age, we made martinis out of PIG manure!" they claim.
* Cut to Florida retirement development. It's all over, and a group of seniors raises their whiskey glasses for a toast: "Hasta Del Boca Vista, Baby!"
*Disclaimer: Some plots points may have been stolen from one's brother.
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posted by Anonymous at
4:36 PM
2 Comments:
REASONS WHY LYNN IS BETTER THAN JERRY BRUCKHEIMER:
1,001. see above plot summary.
Hilarious! and so true. Now I've got to see the movie....
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