Quality Control

8:00 am

Park car. Swipe security card. Put on gloves, mask, suit. Time on line 8:00. Watch the parade.

Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Goldenrod. Yellow.

Wait, Pete thought. That's not right.

He quickly pulled the off-colored Twonkie from the conveyor belt and added it to his report. 

REASON FOR SCRAP: Discolored snack cake. SOLUTION: Maintenance check on Oven

He sighed and threw it away. To anyone else being a Quality Assurance Technician at a snack food manufacturer would be a dream job. It paid decent. You got free samples. There was no union. Supervisors left you alone for the most part.

But to Pete it was hell. 9 long months of hell. Pete didn't want to watch snack cakes one after another. He wanted to play guitar. He'd always wanted to play guitar. Instead he made excuses.

No time. No money. No venue.

It didn't help that Pete's “office” was small. Secluded with white sterile walls, his room stood apart from the rest of the plant and best of all had no windows and only one door. It was the perfect place for people to come, hide out, and complain about their jobs. Pete inevitably became their sounding board, their psychiatrist, their Quality Control.

When word spread there was a good guy in QA who listened, folks came out of the wood work to see the guru.

There was Ralph from Packaging with his incessant need to talk about his rash. Darlene from Logistics and the tales of her dating just about man in the place. Jim Dean from Maintenance and his drug binges.

No topic was taboo.

Watch out for Gollum, he'll bite off your finger

If you've been sleeping under a rock you probably don't know that "The Hobbit" just started shooting in New Zealand. After much delay with Actor's Unions, Peter Jackson's health, and the notorious battle of intellectual property, Tolkien's first journey into Middle Earth is at last begun production.

I am very excited.

You can tell how excited I am by the fact that I am writing a blog to say how excited I am. I don't write. However, I will write for 'The Hobbit." I remember 12 years ago when a friend of mine looked at tons and tons of production stills from this big budget movie called "Lord of the Rings." I had of course heard of the books, but hadn't read them. I was a Star Wars guy you see. Prick me back then and I would bleed Yoda quotes, statistical analysis on AT-AT design, and midi-chlorians... well maybe not those, I tend to still believe the Force binds us all without explanation.

Anyway, I was impressed by my buddies love of the production, the story, and the world this guy named J.R.R. Tolkien made up. It wasn't until two years later that my mind was completely blown. "Fellowship of the Ring" gave me a feeling. A feeling I hadn't felt since...

Fast forward a few more years and I have now read five of Tolkien's Middle Earth works, including "The Silmarillion". I know that makes me a die hard fan and that's cool. I AM A DIE HARD FAN.

Now it is me who watches Peter Jackson's blog from the set of "The Hobbit". Now it is me who drools over production stills. Now it is me who has plans for a Middle Earth themed tattoo... right across from my Star Wars one.

 Enjoy the first installment of Jackson's blog from the Set.

Ghostbusters 3 Script Leak?

No, not exactly...but this is how I wish it would start.

INT. HAMLISCH ESTATE - NIGHT

A night vision view of a storm outside the window of a dust covered room. A PONY TAILED MAN in his late thirties carries an electronic device that looks like a cordless razor covered in blinking Christmas lights. He turns to the camera.


                           PONY TAIL
           According to my PKE meter, the influx of paranormal
           residue appears to be coming from this room. 

Pony Tail looks at his device. His eyes go wide.

                           PONY TAIL
           This is amazing stuff. I haven't heard of readings this
           high since the Viggo the Carpathian Incident in 1989.
           I've got to tell Timothy.


Pony Tail takes a walkie talkie off of his belt and holds it up to his mouth.


                           PONY TAIL
           Tim, you've got to get down here. Incredible stuff, Tim.
           Tim. Over.


Tim doesn't respond.


                           PONY TAIL
           Tim, where are you?
           Tim? Tim?


Pony Tail looks at the camera man.


                           PONY TAIL
           He always answers.


A LOUD GROAN can be heard from the room above them.


                           PONY TAIL
                           (SHOUTING)
           Tim!


                           VOICE (O.S.)
                            (MUFFLED)
           Help!


Pony Tail looks again at the camera man.


                           PONY TAIL
           Dear god!


He runs out of the room. The cameraman follows him up the stairs. Pony Tail stumbles in the middle of the staircase.


                           PONY TAIL
           We're coming, Tim!


Pony Tail frantically bounds up the rest of the stairs. He runs down the hallway to the room the sound is coming from. Pony Tail stops outside of the room. He holds up his PKE Meter to the cameraman. Every light on the device is glowing. Pony Tail's eyes are wider than ever.


                           PONY TAIL
           Let's do this.


Pony Tail kicks open the door and rushes in. He stops dead in his tracks.


                           PONY TAIL
           Oh my god.


The cameraman gets around Pony Tail and instantly stops on TIM, a bald man in his thirties laying on the ground. He is covered in goop. It appears he has pissed himself.


                           PONY TAIL
           Tim, what happened?


Tim is catatonic. He is shaking and mumbling.


                           PONY TAIL
           What's that smell, Tim?
           Did you... did you mess yourself?


Tim does not respond. He only struggles to point to a closed door on the other side of the room. 


                           PONY TAIL
           Is there something in there?


Tim slowly nods. Pony Tail turns to the camera. He wipes sweat off of his forehead.


                           PONY TAIL
           Finally... proof of the paranormal, this is gonna get 
           so many freakin' hits on our YouTube.


Pony Tail creeps toward the closed door. 


                           PONY TAIL
           Make sure you get this Mort.


The cameraman moves to get a better position to show Pony Tail open the door. Pony Tail reaches the door and looks at the cameraman one last time.


                           PONY TAIL
           Eat your heart out, Ghost Adventures.


Pony Tail grabs the knob and flings the door open. He closes his eyes briefly. There is nothing there. Pony Tail leans his head into the closet.


                           PONY TAIL
           What? Tim, there's nothing in here but old Twinkie boxes.


Pony Tail turns back to Tim.


                           PONY TAIL
           This a joke?


Pony Tail turns back to the closet and is...


SLIMED by SLIMER. The green ball of ectoplasm blasts from the closet, hits Pony Tail in the chest, and knocks him to the ground. Pony Tail screams as Slimer smothers him. The cameraman backs up to get a better view of the sliming. 


Suddenly a WHISTLE from the hallway outside the room stops Slimer. 

In the door way stands, RAY STANTZ, with a cigarette hanging from his lips. Though older and heavier, Ray still wears his proton pack and holds his Neutrona Wand with the same confidence as before, maybe even more.


                             RAY
            Come on, let's go. Don't make me light this up.


Slimer drools, causing tons of ectoplasm to fall onto Pony Tail.


                             RAY
            Get in the trap and we'll just leave these three 
            poor, though misguided, fellas alone. Make it easy.


Ray drops the trap on the ground and kicks it over toward Slimer. Slimer lowers his head and begins to move toward the trap.


                             RAY
            That's it. Good boy. You know the drill...


Slimer stops and slowly spins around with that same old hot-dog eating grin.

                             RAY
            Don't do it. Don't do it.

Slimer smiles wide and flies at the cameraman. The cameraman falls backwards, we see only the ceiling. Ray's head appears in view.


                             RAY
            Stay off of my turf and quit trying to steal   
            my customers. 



                                                        HARD CUT TO: