Techwr-l : The Movie <OT - humor>

["Hart, Geoff" <Geoff-H -at- MTL -dot- FERIC -dot- CA>]

Keith Cronin rabblerouses <g>: <<I, for one, will not stand idly by. I
propose we make our OWN movie, showing the uninitiated how truly
scintillating the world of tech writing is. It'll be huge. Trust me. For a
limited time, CroninTransGlobalEntertainment will be accepting script ideas
and casting suggestions.>>

Establishing shot: A dark and stormy night, lit by flashes of lightning and
a single flickering halogen bulb from a dingy streetlamp. A shot rings out.
An engineer (you can tell it's an engineer by the excruciatingly obvious
lack of sartorial style) staggers into the pool of light under a streetlamp,
clutching a manilla folder under one arm. He falls to his knees, and a pool
of blood fans out beneath him. After a moment, a shady figure enters from
stage left and plucks the folder from the engineer. (It's not clear whether
the latter is deceased. It's an engineer, after all.)

Shady figure: "Damn. It's written in SME-ese. We'll need a translator."

Cut to the inside of a cubicle, lit only by the screensaver from a 17-inch
monitor. [Viewsonic gives great product placement.] An unshaven, half-asleep
technical writer (you can tell it's a technical writer by the unfinished
novel on the shelf) leans on one elbow, hand crushing his ear. He starts in
surprise as someone arrives at his cubicle, and frantically lunges for the
mouse in a vain attempt to look busy. Turning, he sees it's Femme Fatale,
his manager.

Femme fatale: "Hey, Keith. Still here?"

Keith: "Where else would I be on a Saturday night? You think I have a life
or something?"

FF: "My, aren't we bitter. Fortunately, I've got something that should add
some spice to what you call a life."

Keith (looking with horror at the folder from scene 1): "Is that...?"

FF: "Yeah, it's blood stains. Never mind; you didn't know the guy. We need
you to turn it into a user manual. Can you do it by tomorrow morning?"

Keith (holding the folder at arms length with just his fingertips): "I've
done worse. But as you know, I'm busy with that torpedo manual you assigned
me this morning. Can't this new thing wait?"

FF (leaning over Keith so he gets a strong whiff of her seductive perfume
and a clear view of her jutting breasts): "No, it can't wait. It's a matter
of national security."

Keith (sotto voce, casting surreptitious glances at his manager): "Isn't it
always?" (He reluctantly places the folder on the floor so he can open it
without getting blood all over his desk.) "Damn... another functional
specification document."

Cut to the inside of the Kremlin, where a Russian mafioso (he's the one in
the $500 Armani suit) is talking to some high-level apparatchik (he's the
one in the $50 off-the-rack suit)...

<<Who should play YOU in the movie?>>

You think I'd be caught dead in a Hollywood movie? You'll hear from my
lawyer...

<<And, if you dare, who should play some of the key players: Mr. Plato>>

Definitely Sean Penn. If we can't get him, how about Anthony Hopkins? He did
a great job as Hannibal Lector, after all... <gdrlh>

--Geoff Hart, FERIC, Pointe-Claire, Quebec
geoff-h -at- mtl -dot- feric -dot- ca
"User's advocate" online monthly at
www.raycomm.com/techwhirl/usersadvocate.html

"Every man is a damned fool for at least five minutes every day. Wisdom
consists in not exceeding the limit."--Elbert Hubbard, author, editor,
printer (1856-1915)

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