Well, Bell45 and I are colaborating to make a movie, hes doing the voices, I am writing the script/story as well as animating and maybe doing some music for it. I just finished the story which I will scriptitize in a bit for bell to work on. The movie will advertise for the Jetpackers. So if anyone wants to read the script (even though nobody ever looks at my page) here it is. Advice and comments needed.

Here is the story:

Fingametoz by
Joel Summers

The camera crackled on and was held unsteadily by a man who surely could not be trusted with a new born child. The video shook wildly as if the movie itself was having a... nervous breakdown. A peculiar man stood imbedded inside the low budget moving picture. The man was British; he had a glowing orange mustache, amber sideburns, and a bald head with just one lone hair that dreadfully screamed: "Just bloody pluck me already!" With his the camera does not love you looks, he smiled, showing three yellow teeth as he extended his thumb and said in an extremely cliché British voice: "Fingametoz have been all I needed since I've moved to the states." The brit's apartment was flashed on the screen. It was filled with boxes all labled Fingametoz inc! Suddenly the camera topples as I hear the brit laugh and a worrisome grunt from the camera man. I imagine this clumsy overweight forty year old Caucasian male toppling over onto a hopefully not to expensive video camera as I chuckle a small laugh. As he falls, static and white noise rudely throw me into the next campaign for commercial enterprise. Two lovely ladies greet me. One was wearing nothing but exotic animal fur; she looked as if she just massacred a zoo... maybe she did. The other, whose name was mentioned to be Mary something or another, was dressed rather provocatively. She had rather large breasts, its not that I was staring at them, but the camera was primarily focused on them. Proof that the camera guy is a clumsy overweight forty year old Caucasian male. As Mary mumbles on about how incredible Fingametoz are, I notice that her already ample breasts are getting bigger! Not to sound like a pervert or anything, but they were huge! Is this what it takes to sell stuff anymore, women with large breasts? Suddenly her breast's exploded with a luminary rot glow. The television melted into it's self as red hungry claws ripped at my sweaty nervous face. A flash of bright white. Marvelous melancholy, delicious despair. I awoke from a slumber to find Mary still talking about Fingametoz when I felt a strange emotion. I felt... massive amounts of self deprecation, pity for people who don't need it, and an extreme hatred towards those who are the most humble and innocent. I named this strange emotion Rudy. This strange feeling had dispersed faster than the fastest thing that vanishes rather quickly when I had opened the fridge door. The blue glow of the fridge always calmed me. The next day filled with meaningless confusing emotional fluff was more than another day filled with meaningless confusing emotional fluff. It was the day I had become a walking talking self-unemployed commercial. I walked past a stand selling delicious useful anything. My eyes fell upon a box of Fingametoz, I saw there glow, appeal, there spark. I felt a want, and a need for them. I felt obligated to buy them by an invisible urge. There was this majestic gird that surrounded me. Fingametoz put me inside a trance like unbreakable bars, prison cell, smack down, fuck you stranglehold, I fell in love with this product. What is it they do I pondered to Rudy one day. Rudy screamed spitefully telling me that my questions were none of his damned time. He apologized, baked me cookies, and fell to sleep in my arms. I smoked Fingametoz, mighty fine smokes, ate them two, delicious, fished with them, and caught the biggest fish. What do they do? Robots dancing! Advertising sounds go boom! Joy in the marketing world as Fingametoz grows, expands, eating up other businesses as profits inflate wildly. All the jobless CEO's and honest to god hard working, unemployed, Jesus fearing businessmen now work under the same roof. They work for Fingametoz. A man fly's in his rotating blade flying machine, with trinkets and trolleys, flashing lights with cash dangling rope bags to show of his high status quo. I often watch him fly to and fro, place to place, each time leaving with more silver pennied riches in his pocket as I struggle for food. I spent all my money on Fingametoz. There were many beautiful women at his side; even though he is far from beautiful... money is sexy. Eventually his rotating blade machine becomes so weighed down with cash that he begins to fall to the ground. To save his twinkling bags of loot, he began to throw the woman overboard. One by one he threw them off, but his helli still sank. Off course, he had to crash into my lawn, as well as three blondes, a red head, and a Chinese albino with bound feet. Earlier a man with a kind haircut and a smile of gold had promised me, and several others (by others I mean the entire world), a better tomorrow. Many many many politicians had promised us great stuff! Many many many provided the opposite. This man was different though, he... tried. But Fingametoz grew so large and powerful it eventually just bought the world; and all the worlds governments. This ugly man who had crashed into my brown grass pot holed lawn was one of the most powerful and rich officials of the Fingametoz franchise. Opportunity had struck me on the head harder than my mother had whacked me with a shovel whenever I emptied my bowels onto the kitchen carpet. I had seen the dog do it. Rudy and I argued amongst each other about what to do. We screamed and spat ideas at one another; we pulled our hands back, and then flailed thoughts at one another. Eventually our decision resided on out own greedy honesty. Maybe if we helped him, we would be rewarded! We dragged his rag doll inside and plopped him on the couch. Then I sat down on my generic Fingametoz chair, and watched a generic episode of Everyone loves Fingametoz on the generic Fingametoz television. When the man had awoken from his long slumber he was dumbfounded beyond belief. Rudy walked into the kitchen with soup as the man shouted "Were the fuck am I"! Rudy, the imaginary bipolar section of my mind, responded hastily and without care. Soon Rudy and the rich man were wailing at each other. He asked us why I hadn't taken him to the hospital. I would have, but Fingametoz had denied the average fat man health care, and instead provided it only to the important and wealthy. Even if I was one of those it would still be impossible because the hospital was in the middle of an active volcano. Even still, he sued me for sixty-four-trillion dollars plus an extra thousand or so for mental misgiving. I was appointed a lawyer from the state while the guy I saved sued me with his armada of twenty lawyers each with an average pay day of half a million dollars. I decided to withdraw my counter sue. I was charged with kidnapping, conspiracy to commit murder, and smuggling of drugs via my anus. I'm not even sure how I was plugged with that last one. I was given one-hundred year's jail time plus I would be forced to work in the prison library that paid six cents an hour until I paid of my dues. The prison library was a huge disappointment. There were to kitchen shelves with sneeze guards still attached. On one was a copy of the movie Gremlins, the other contained one of Dr. Seuss's "filthier" books. It was not all bad; the library was like a desolate deserted desert. Hanging out in here would make it far less likely for me to be shanked or have my salad tossed. My room mate was not the stereotypical black man who had gone gay over the years in incarceration. My room mate was a world renowned gardener who had been working for the president of Earth, or its new name, Fingatopia!
He had been working on the President's preposterous palace garden when a pissy little squirrel bit his toe and he dilapidated twelve tulips. I did not know you could go to jail for a gardening mistake. In the cell was a television that played nothing but Fingametoz commercials. You could not turn it off, or adjust the volume except for at night. My room mate befriended a mouse, much like in the green mile. He was also set for execution; I found that funny, but also very funereal. I started remembering every prison related movie I had ever viewed, and began contemplating digging an escape via plastic utensils. Lastingness in the library was driving me lunatic; I stared at a clock with only the small hand working. Every day, midday, we were herded like sheep into an extemporaneous shrine. All religions were replaced by the new religion: Fingaismnissim; that got many the worlds' religious folk upset. So to make an example, Fingametoz murdered a large group of religious protestors. Many people still protest, but there voices are soon cut short. In church, the padre rambled on spiting out bullshit I know he did not believe either. Days of Bullshit and boredom, slow growing insanity, and bad overplayed commercials, the only fun I had was when my room mate and I managed some cheese from the kitchen and we played mouse in the middle, I was always in the middle! Then that day came, he was put to death, the mouse and I mourned. Spread legs on a silky bed. Gross pre-determined ill fate; his sticky digits running across her. Not like this... Broken fragile tears, sweating and soiled with crusty tear eyed skin and fur. My broken mousy friend, my dead cellmate, my life. The phone rang loud, it was for me. I picked up the phone and with impersonal words a man said: "You're free." With that my cell wall opened to the free-er world. Joy surrounded me, though it did not last long. My mouse friend hopped on my shoulder. I met up with Rudy, immediately he broke me the lesser of the bad news first. My house had been transformed into a Brothel. Lesser of bad news? The worse news was how I was strangely set free. My mother had become the concubine to the president's fat little bastard son. Rot, angry commercial claws pour out of my face, steaming hot platter of rage. Murder. I set the mouse to my side as I grew tall and angry. My red claws picked me aloft the ground and hurtled me forward at a prodigious rate. A knife in my hand, fire burning inside me, I let loose the beast created by dark days and flaming dooms despair. The president screamed, begged for his life, he spent his last moments as a coward. Suddenly I returned to myself. The beast left to the aid of some other desperate man far of. Before me was the president of the world with blood running down his chest. Color returned to the world, with brass tracks back we saw what Fingametoz were. They sold us out own body parts. Chop off your finger, sell it to you for ten ninety five plus tax. With money in Fingametoz pockets they were free to expand; most people were unable to fight back to the radical changes because they were too weak from being harvested. Those who did rebel did not last long. We all realized what had happened; we all saw the truth behind the lies. I had freed the world. We united to restore it to a better state. Peace flowed and life went on happily ever after... yeah right, were people, something always has to go wrong with one another.

So tell me what you think. I know there are alot of confusing words and wild terms, I wanted the script to reflect the style of the movie.

Im revamping the animation. Imagen that... all fbf.

---ZWJ