by Joe Buonfiglio

Ah, the independent-film screenplay; an “indie” script for all you Industry-with-a-capital-“I” Hollywood-insider “beautiful people” types.  Granted, the absurd amount of money some big movie studios will throw at their subsidiaries’ indie-style releases that they’ll unabashedly call “independent” films muddies the waters as to whether “indie” can even mean arthouse micro-budget films anymore.  However, even with the line so shamefully blurred, those wonderful indie-film titles still get my right-brain Muse jumping for joy.  Indie titles such as “John Dies at the End,” “Seven Psychopaths” and “Wristcutters: A Love Story” all absolutely demand an audience by the sheer magnificence of their bizarre titles.

It is with this in mind that I generate my title-driven list of screenplays I’m putting on my literary to-do list.

“NyQuil and Masturbation” — An LA hipster becomes addicted to nighttime cold-relief products in the fast-paced world of competitive “street jerking.”

“The Codfather” — A ruthless family of fish live by a code until a rival school pushes them too far.  (“I know it was you, Shrimp Alfredo.  You broke my heart.  You broke my heart!”)

“Raging Bullshit” — A Congressional Speaker of the House shows his opponents no mercy in the political ring until he realizes he’s going to end up yesterday’s news, a washed-up has-been, when he is caught crying on national TV … and it goes viral.

“It’s a Wonderful Bike” — A boy is so embarrassed by the old banana-style seat on his bicycle that he wishes he was never born … until a bumbling angel shows him how much the neighborhood girls love taking a ride on it.

“Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dildo” — Okay.  Admittedly, I have abso-fucking-lutely NO IDEA what the hell this one will be about … but I can’t wait to start writing it!

“Bob’s Old VHS Porn Saves the Day” — A mild-mannered down-on-his-luck baklava salesman is on the cusp of committing suicide until the Apocalypse hits and the only chance of the Human Race avoiding extinction depends on his collection of old stag films from the 1970s.

Pizza delivery!

“If I Just Blew Chunks on Your Areola, It Must be Tuesday”  — The inspiring story of a— Wait.  What?

“Petticoat Munchkin” — The Medieval story of a diminutive court fool who cannot resist peeking under the skirts of the saucy laundry wenches.  It’s intended for a combination of children’s animation and live-action puppetry.

No, I’m not kidding.

Okay. “… saucy laundry wenches brought to you by the letters ‘T’ & ‘A.’


“Not Without My Penis” — A man searches a strange and violent land for his lost … well … manhood.

“Not Without My Penis II: Not Without My Balls” — A man searches a strange and violent land for—  You get the idea.

No?  What if I told you that on page ten he dips those babies in gold glitter-glue and—

I’ll fix it in rewrite.

“Fatman” —  A masked vigilante takes an autobiographical romp through the after-hours world of triple cheeseburgers and cream-filled pastries.

“Gone With My Wind” — Both uncontrollable and incurable, a woman’s battle with incessant flatulence takes a deadly turn in the antebellum South in a manner that may have just been an obscure, yet contributing factor in starting the Civil War.

“ET: The Extra-Testicle” — Three balls is not always better than two if your spaceship crash-lands on an unforgiving planet.  (Please don’t sue me, Mr. Spielberg.)

“Schindler’s Pissed” — An influential businessman in Nazi Germany during WWII gets really angry when— Okay, seriously, Mr. Spielberg.  I’m begging you.  Don’t sue me.  I obviously have a problem and can’t help myself.  I suffer from terror dreams, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Jekyll & Hyde Syndrome….  You name it.  I’ve got it.  I’m sick in the head.  Ask my wife.  I’m my own worst enemy.  PLEASE DON’T SUE ME!  I’M BEGGING YOU!  PLEEEEEASE!

Right.  Like I’d even show up on old Steve’s radar screen.

God.  That was fucking embarrassing.  And that makes for the perfect segue to …

“Bare-Assed and Buck Naked in the Preacher’s Dodge Omni” — A coming-of-age story placing the biggest piece of shit Chrysler ever made into a delightful hamlet with a dark secret, all set in the quaint little New England backdrop of Vermont’s famous—  It’s porn.

“Somebody Call a Plumber!” — After being crowned state champion in The Great Chili Eat-Off in the Twenty-Alarm Division at the Bumfuk County Fair, Lucy realizes that the mechanics of the porcelain throne in her 1940’s bungalow may not be quite up to snuff when it comes time to give the Devil his due for her blue-ribbon escapades.

“Dad!  Uncle Benny’s Fucking the Monkey Again!” — Sorry.  That’s not a screenplay logline.  My kid’s yelling that at me.

Well, if in some small way, I’ve inspired you to pen your own indie movie script, then my work here is done.  So get to it!  That ink isn’t going to apply itself to the blank page by magic.

Now fuck off.  I’ve got manly writing to do.

“Goddamn it, Benny!  Get the hell off Mister Pepe or this time you can explain to the vet why he won’t stop crying!”


© 2015 Joseph P. Buonfiglio     All Rights Reserved.

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