Just the latest pages of the screenplay for my 'soon-to-be Academy Award-winning' film 'Gonzalo' – documenting the life and times of one Coach Red Pill.
~
The Ukrainian warlord and part-time Nazi, Kandyba, aims his Kalashnikov. He fires a short burst at Lira. The bullets scream like an Eddie Van Halen guitar solo as they ricochet off their target's chest! Lira stands his ground, unmoved by the attempt upon his life. As the smoke clears, he shakes his greying mane of frayed curls, like a lesbian matriarch establishing dominance at a women-only, lentil-based cook-off.
KANDYBA
'What the?... How?...'
He raises his weapon to check the barrel. Ten feet away from him, the ragged remnants of Lira's shirt fall open to reveal a silver, 100,000 subscribers, YouTube creator award, protecting his heart.
LIRA
“Got it this morning. Google make them AK47-proof for a reason.
Now get this Kandyba: I'm claiming this city and your Cossack ass for the glory of mother Russia.”
The bandarista, Kandyba, raises his gun.
KANDYBA
“Not so fast, Coach Red Peel.
Your YouTube creator award may have saved your heart.
I wonder what will save your fat head.
Maybe you can ponder this on Willshire Boulevard, when I send you to hell.”
A large, air-dropped wooden crate, stamped with the UN logo, plummets to the ground between Kandyba and Lira, filling the air with splinters. YouTube creator awards of varying denominations fly from the wreckage and assemble themselves into a rad Iron Man-style suit around Lira.
LIRA
(The suit has given his voice has a cool metallic quality, like Cher when she performs 'Believe')
“One thing you didn't count on. YouTube is a community. So I made a few calls to other creators, requesting assistance.”
Lira targets Kandyba with a sonic pulse, catapulting him 300 miles through the air, into the Black Sea.
KANDYBA
(his voice fading as he disappears over the horizon)
“Aeeiiiiiiiiiiii!”
LIRA
(To a huddle of Ukrainian peasant women, who have never before this moment laid eyes upon a Chilean)
“Later, System Pigs.”
Lira takes off leaving twin jet streams in his wake. A fleet of loyal drone cams trail after him.
YOUNG BOY
“Who was that old mother?”
BOY'S FATHER
“That was the Ghost of Kyiv. She shoots down Russian warplanes. Then she rapes the pilots.”
YOUNG BOY
“When I am of age, I hope too, to be like the Ghost of Kyiv.”
BOY'S FATHER
(Tears of pride welling up in his eyes)
“My Son... My Son is a beautiful trans women.
She will swim competitively and snatch many Olympic medals from the hands of the American pig dogs.
All for the glory of the Russia-occupied Ukraine.”
A ragged cheer goes up from the bystanders.
