|
|
Favorites from the newspaper column (february 2004 - this page) (January 2004) (Archives) Marc O'Polo chukkers Kublai Khan | It's all about integrity - and sex and violence Marc O'Polo was a 13th Century Irish sportsman who was very fond of foreign travel. Actually, he was also a 14th Century Irish sportsman, but was not so fond of travelling in that age. What age was that? It was the High Middle Age, when most of Europe was stoned. No wait, most of Europe was made of stone. Then again, some historians insist it was the Late Middle Age, when everyone was late for everything (Christopher Columbus had actually been scheduled to sail in 1312). Against this background, young Marc sailed in 1271 from Ireland with a brace of ponies, intending to go to London and invent a news sport involving ponies, mallets, and mint juleps. Unfortunately, he took a wrong turn at Dublin and two years later found himself in China. China was then known as Cathy, for reasons known only to the Chinese, who were at that time not actually Chinese but Mongols. After a few days of trying to sort out who was who and what was what, Marc was almost as confused as the Chinese/Mongols of Cathy, but he did remember why he had set out from Ireland: ponies, mallets, and mint juleps. He arranged an audience with the reigning Mongol Emperor of Cathy, Kublai Khan, and said, "Kub, I've got this great new game. It involves ponies, mallets, and mint juleps." "Tell me more," said the emperor, "but don't get too long-winded or I'll have your tongue cut out." Given an incentive editors everywhere wish they had in their arsenals, Marc said, "You ride the ponies, hit balls with the mallets, and drink mint juleps until you fall out of your saddle." "What a coincidence," said the emperor. "We have a similar game. We ride our ponies, use clubs to bat the heads of our enemies about, and drink fermented goat's milk until we fall off of our mounts. We don't use saddles." "I can work with that," Marc said. "Best two out of three?" asked the emperor. "You're on," said Marc. The next day, Marc and a group of Chinese/Mongols met the emperor's riders in a game that had yet to be named. The emperor had handpicked Marc's team and he had picked the very worst riders in his army. "You guys are falling off without benefit of mint juleps," Marc told them. "We're not very good at batting the heads of our enemies about, either," the team told him. "We're clerks in the royal treasury." "This is not very fair," Marc told the emperor after three losses. "Tough noogies," the Kahn told Marc. "But I'll give you a second chance if you will marry my ugliest daughter and become my ambassador to Japan." So Marc married the emperor's ugliest daughter, Brunhilda, and went to Japan. He left Brunhilda in Cathy because she really was ugly and that was just beginning to describe it. Unfortunately, the Japanese were expecting a bad experience with America and so had closed their country to all foreigners until several hundred years hence. Marc returned to Cathy and broke this news to the Kahn. "Well, it's not a total washout," the emperor decided. "At least I got rid of my ugliest daughter." "Don't' remind me," said Marc. He went home to Brunhilda, who had just washed her hair and watched it fall out. "The top of your head is even ugly," Marc told her. "Isn't there anything I can do to win your love?" Brunhilda asked. "Oh sure," Marc told her. "Assemble a team of crack riders that can beat your daddy's best horseman at batting heads about and drinking mint juleps." "I can do that," Brunhilda said. "Since no one at my daddy's court wanted anything to do with me, my ladies in waiting and I spent our days becoming expert horsemen and head batter-abouters. In addition, we can drink most of the army under the table." "Why did you settle on riding?" Marc asked. "The horses are uglier than we are," Brunhilda explained. "And drinking?" "The horses don't think so." So Brunhilda and her ladies in waiting, mounted on the ponies Marc had brought from Ireland, met the emperor's finest horsemen in a game of bat and drink. The action was fast and furious. The game wasn't bad, either, and when the final gong sounded the girls had won the day. "This is embarrassing," Kublai Kahn told Marc. "I'm going to have to lop off your head or make you ambassador to somewhere else." "I like the ambassador idea," Marc said. "How about the girls and I got on a world tour to spread this new sport and pump up your fame?" "Can we work sex into this?" asked the emperor. "Not with these girls," Marc told him. "But we can have cheerleaders." "Can I date them?" asked Kublai. "You the emperor," Marc said. So "Marc and his O'Polo Ponies" embarked on a tour that took them to the capitols of the world. They were greeted everywhere with acclaim. "Marc's game" became the rage of the age. Marc finally succumbed to Brunhilda's charms as a rider, and they had 17 children. "One thing," she asked him. "Who were you referring to when you named us the 'O'Polo Ponies?'" Marc gulped and said, "I'll have to tell you later. I just signed on with this Columbus guy and I have to sail in an hour." Copyright 2004, Robert A. Markwalter Hollywood mogul B.J. (Bud) Mogul looked out of his office window onto the back lot far below and said, "This picture will be all about integrity in film making." Howard Crud, B.J.'s assistant and head lackey, nodded enthusiastically and said, "I like it, B.J., I like it." "Of course you like it. I pay you to like it," B.J. told him. "Right, B.J., right. Integrity." "Integrity, honesty, humility, compassion, courage, and a bunch of other stuff like that," B.J. said. He began to pace in front of the window as Howard said, "I like it, I like it." "And sex," B.J. said. "We'll have to work some sex in." "Sex," said Howard. "I ..." "That would be more than I want to know about you," B.J. told him. "Right, boss, right. Integrity, honesty, humility, compassion, courage, and sex." "And violence. Lots of violence." "Boss, you are true to your art." "It's what I live for," B.J. said. "Better clear a space for that Oscar," Howard said. B.J. stopped pacing and scowled. "Sorry, boss, sorry." "The Academy doesn't reward art," B.J. said. "No, it doesn't," Howard agreed. "If it did ..." B.J. mused. "You'd have a cabinet full of statuettes," Howard agreed. "I thought for sure I had it with Naked Cat Women from Mars Invade Detroit," B.J. said sadly. "Best picture ever made, boss, ever made," gushed Howard. "Better than Citizen Kane, boss, better than Kane." "That's a fine picture," B.J. said, "but Orson had his limitations." "No car crashes, boss, nobody naked." "Cat Women had plenty of that." "Plenty, boss, plenty. More than plenty." "What?" "I meant, more than plenty for any other movie, but just enough of plenty for Cat Women." B.J. resumed his pacing. He stopped at his desk, sat in his huge swivel chair, turned in it to look out over the back lot, and said, "But enough of the past. We've got a new picture to make." "It'll be great, boss, great," said Howard. "Integrity, honesty, humility, compassion, courage, sex, and violence." "Lots of violence." "Lots, boss, lots." "Now all we need is a plot." B.J. sat in silence as Howard stood behind him, sweating as he tried to think of a plot. Finally Howard said, "How about this, boss? This kid inherits a silver mine and his mother has him shipped off to New York to be raised by a guardian. The kid grows up, buys a broken-down newspaper, makes it a political power, runs for governor, gets caught in a love nest, and eventually dies a broken-down, friendless old man who longs for his childhood. How about it, boss, how about it?" "It's got integrity," B.J. said. "But where's the sex and violence?" Howard began to pace. B.J. still sat facing the window. Howard said, "The train that takes the kid to New York can crash. Then the ambulance taking him to the hospital crashes. Then he falls in love with his nurse, but she won't marry him, so he goes on to New York where he falls in love with his guardian." "His guardian?" "Renee Zellweger." "Of course, his guardian!" "But he is unfaithful to her, so she leaves him. That's when he is involved in a fiery car crash with the President's niece and marries her. They go scuba diving in the Caribbean for their honeymoon. Waves crash over them as they ..." "Don't forget the violence." "One of the waves brings a shark that the kid has to kill, mano a mano." "We'll have lifeguards and the shark will chomp off their legs. There'll be blood everywhere." "Genius, boss, genius." "Do we have enough integrity here?" "Our prop department makes blood better than anyone else in the business." B.J. rose from his chair, turned, and said, "Okay, we'll have the script people flesh it out later. What say we do lunch? You grovel very well in public." "I grovel better than anyone, boss, anyone." B.J. started for the office door, then turned and said, "Guns." "Guns, boss?" "We forgot guns. AK-47s, Uzis, assault rifles. Grenades, bombs, explosions, flying bodies. Now we'll have to start from the top." Howard paced for a moment and said, "The kid can be heir to a firearms fortune, boss, firearms." B.J. thought for a moment, then said, "I like it, I like it." "You're a genius, boss, genius." Copyright 2004, Robert A. Markwalter |
| ©2000, Robert A. Markwalter. All rights reserved. |