Citizen Jim arrived at 4:30 a.m. while I was in the middle of a two-day Astonishing Tales marathon, during which I hoped to finish reading every piece of ephemera and effluvia available in the archive of Citizen Dan's internationally famous web site.

"You never look at my goddamn web site, but you'll sit for days slogging through this shit? You've never watched an epsiode of 'The Swiss Family Dawson' in your life, so why would you care about those idiotic reviews?" Citizen Jim said.

"It's called 'Dawson's Creek,' dumb ass," I said, "and whether I've ever seen it is not the point. Just like whether or not you ever enjoy my Gentlemen Callers stories isn't the point of why I write them."

"Well, I got a point for you, Missy: if you don't close that browser in about three seconds and start typing me a screenplay, I'm gonna point my big toe right up your ass!" he yelled, shoving me off my chair and grabbing for my mouse.

"Screenplay? Why would I be writing you a screenplay?" I asked from the floor.

He sat down and opened up Microsoft Word on my computer. "Are you not paying any attention to the important news these days, or are you just so obsessed with Sparky's web site that you couldn't care less about the real world?"

I told him I kept up with the news on a daily basis, and that I hadn't read anything about my having to write a screenplay in the New York Times, or on salon.com.

That's when Citizen Jim blew up!

"We got us the perfect opportunity to break into motion pictures right now, and you don't even know it! Why do I always have to make the effort? It's like you don't even care!" he shouted.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific," I said.

"Oh, yeah. That's right. Leave it all up to me," he said. "I'm the idea man! You're the one who's supposed to turn my thoughts into a hauntingly beautiful adult cinema experience."

"Adult cinema? What the—"

"Listen, as you should know by now but obviously have no idea about, the adult film industry is in a crisis," he said. "One of my favorite performers, Roxanne Szalt, just tested positive for HIV. After this sad news hit the pages of Variety, it was learned that there's an HIV epidemic in the adult movie business! They're closing sets and putting actors under quarantine for three months!"

"What does this have to do with me? Or you, for that matter?" I had to know.

"Those producers and directors out in San Berardino have to spend their capital making movies somehow," he said. "All we need to do is whip up a few good scripts and head out there. It'll be like the Gold Rush, and I aim to get in on the boom as early as possible."

"Whatever!" I groaned.

"You're not gonna be saying 'whatever' when you're driving around in a tomato-red Audi TT and hanging out by swimming pools with movie stars!" he said. "And that's exactly what'll happen if you just help me for once, instead of acting like I'm some big JACKASS!"

"You have no idea how to make a movie," I said.

"You know as well as I do that I have extensive filmmaking experience, so I ought to make good in the biz real fast," he said.

"You DO NOT have filmmaking experience, extensive or otherwise!" I said, snorting and rolling my eyes.

"What do you call those movies I made with Robey back in the 80s?"

"You made one rip-off of an Indiana Jones movie with an 8-millimeter hand-held," I reminded him. "And it wasn't a very flattering homage to Mr. Spielberg, if I'm correctly remembering that scene of you being chased down your parents' driveway by a beachball Robey colored with a brown magic marker."

"Listen, I'm not asking for your first-born male and a quart of blood," he said, taking off his shoe and raising it over his head and aiming for my face. "I just need some help, is all, with the actors' speeches. I can handle the action scenes on my own, if you know what I'm sayin—I ain't sayin nothin . . . "

"What kind of idiot needs help with the so-called 'speeches' in a porno movie?" I said, scrambling backward.

"I know for a fact that the dialogue is the trickiest part," he said. "It always is for me, anyway."

I shook my head. "I just don't understand what's so hard about adding 'faster,' 'harder,' and/or 'more pudding, please' to whatever the actors are telling each other to do," I said, covering my head with my arms to block the rage Citizen Jim was sure to unleash any second.

Surprisingly, he put his shoe back on, and fished a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that," he said, shoving his spectacles onto his face with one hand. "This isn't just about writing a hot, sexy porno script. I want to incorporate some believable characters and a profound message about the human condition into a post-modern historical context."

Gravity's Rainbow Thomas Pynchon

"Sort of like Gravity's Rainbow meets Junior College Cheer-Off?" I asked.

"Precisely! See? You're the brains and I'm the beauty, just the the good old days," he said. "Except, the girl parts have to be a little more mature than Junior College Cheer-Off. Otherwise, I'll never be able to get Erika to star in these features with me. You know how picky she can be about the roles she takes."

I ignored this reference to his imaginary ex-girlfriend, Erika Eleniak, and agreed to help him if he would agree to leave me alone for a couple hours.

"Oh, Stimpy! Thank you! This means the world to me!" Citizen Jim said, smacking me away and scowling when I went to embrace him. "I need to get busy calling up the rest of the crew, anyway. I want Mitchell to write and perform the score, of course. And if John Cusack isn't available for the second male lead, I'll just die. I know he'll be Bill Murray to my Sofia Coppola."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll become a legenadry duo, just like Sondra Locke and Clint Eastwood," I said.

Citizen Jim's face grew very grave. "I won't forget you next year when Oscar®-time rolls around and I'm waiting to accept my awards," he promised.

"It's okay if you do," I assured him, pushing him out the door of my office and closing the door. Turning a skeleton key in the lock, I said, "I'd never know what to do with it if I stole any thunder from a half-crazy, jackass fool like you . . . "

Read a random GC installment!

Complete Archive