All Our Tomorrows Are Kaboom

My homage to bad movies, overblown masculinity, and a certain director. It’s a lot stupid, a little funny, and in no way should be taken seriously.

 

INT. NASA
Monitors glow in a dim room. Men in white short sleeves, with cotton ties and black glasses, sit at consoles watching radar screens. Each has an identical pen behind their ear. JENKINS’s console blips and pings, a glowing dot appearing under the sweeping digital arm. He looks up at the big display set into the wall, and sees the object in real time. His eyes widen.

JENKINS
Mother of God.

BOSS
(appearing at his shoulder)
What is it, Jenkins?

JENKINS
A class four anomaly sir. And it’s headed right for us.

BOSS
Get me the black phone. We. Need. Masterson.

[SMASH CUT TO]

EXT. RANCH
BLAST MASTERSON, a rugged hunk of man that is definitely manly, rides PONYBOY, his prize horse, inside a fenced-off area. A lariat twirls in his hand like a ballerina on crank. He lets it go, and it loops around a bunny, which thrashes as the rope draws tight. Blast dismounts and hogties the rabbit, then flips open a panel in its stomach. A timer reads 1:00. Blast pulls out a pair of snips and hovers over a tangle of wires. His phone rings. He sighs and brings it out.

BLAST
‘Lo?

BOSS
Blast, we need you.

BLAST
I told you never to call me here!

The timer is still ticking. 00:30 now. He wedges the phone between his cheek and shoulder.

BOSS
You’re the only one who can save us.

BLAST
And?

BOSS
(sighs)
And you’re Captain McAwesome of the Very Large Manhood

Blast clips the red wire on the bunny. The timer stops at 00:01.

BLAST
Damn right.

He hangs up the phone and unties the bunny. It hops away. One hop. Two hops. Then explodes. Bits of bunny rain down everywhere.

BLAST
Damn. C’mon, Ponyboy.

He hops on his horse and spurs it. Its hooves become rockets, and it blasts off into the sky.

[FADE TO]

TITLE CARD
BLAST MASTERSON in BAD BUNNY

[FADE TO]

EXT. NASA
Space stuff in the background. I dunno. Give it rockets. Maybe wings. Point it up. Blast and the Boss shake hands. Ponyboy grazes in a nearby field. Just over Blast’s shoulder, he eats a crocodile that wanders by.

BOSS
Glad you could make it.

BLAST
I always ‘make it’, if you know what I mean.

BOSS
Yes, I-

BLAST
I like women.

BOSS
Great. I-

BLAST
I’m a man’s man. No one can out man me. LOOK!

Blast spits, and it hits a shuttle in the background, exploding it.

BOSS
GREAT.

BLAST
Now, whaddya want?

BOSS
Space. There’s a thing. It looks like a blob, but it could also be an irregular orb. Maybe a flying city of killer monkeys. You need to stop it. It’s making all our stuff go ‘ping’.

BLAST
Gotcha.

He winks, then starts toward Ponyboy. Stops, and turns around.

BLAST
That was a manly wink, by the way. Not an ‘I like you wink’.

He turns around, gets a few feet, and stops.

BLAST
I like women. You know that, right?

BOSS
Sure. Whatever. Go. To. Space.

Blast nods and climbs on Ponyboy, then spurs him. The rockets emerge, and Ponyboy launches into space.

BLAST
BLAST AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!

[CUT TO]

EXT. GIANT SPACE BLOB
Blast lands on the blob and looks back at Earth.

BLAST
Pretty.

He takes a picture with his phone. When he turns around, HIMENA, QUEEN OF THE PEOPLE OF THE BLOB, APPEARS

HIMENA
Hi, man.

Blast shrieks and hides behind Ponyboy.

HIMENA
Come out from behind your quadruped, man.

Blast steps tentatively out.

Himena pulls out a painting by Georgia O’ Keefe. Blast FREAKS OUT and scrambles onto Ponyboy, blasting off back to earth. Himena stands, puzzled.

[CUT TO]

EXT. NASA
Blast and the Boss are both looking at the sky.

BOSS
Doomed, you say?

BLAST
Yep. They’re too powerful. Kiss me.

BOSS
What?

BLAST
Too powerful. I said too powerful. And then nothing else. I like women.

Aerosmith’s ‘I Don’t Wanna Close My Eyes’ starts to play’. Georgia O’Keefe paintings rain from the sky, skewering men and women, exploding on impact. Vast destruction. The scene fades with Blast puckering his lips as the shadow of a giant blob darkens the earth.

[FADE TO BLACK]

 

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