EXT. SKYSCRAPER – DAY

Dr. Aqula flies up to a tall skyscraper.  At the top it says, “Vampire State Building.”

INT. BLOOD BANK – DAY

Dr. Aqula stands in a line.  A sign on the wall says, “Chase-Monstropolis Blood Bank.”  Directly in front of him is a BRITISH VAMPIRE wearing a bowler hat, who turns to Dr. Aqula and says with an upper-class British accent . . .

                                                            BRITISH VAMPIRE
                                    It’s a jolly good thing you have a blood
                                    bank here in Monstropolis.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    You don’t have a blood bank in England?

                                                            BRITISH VAMPIRE
                                    No, we don’t.  But we do have a Liverpool.

The British vampire laughs heartily and slaps Dr. Aqula on the shoulder.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                                (wincing)
                                    Oooh.  I should’ve seen that coming?

Dr. Aqula steps up to the window.  Inside sits a skeleton teller.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    I’d like to make a withdrawal.  Two
                                    pints, please.

But just as he’s about to get his two pints of blood, he looks down and sees . . .

EXT. BEACH – DAY

Dr. Aqula is floating 25 feet above the beach, and there’s a rope tied around his leg running down to Estelle, who is holding the other end.  She gives the rope a yank, and suddenly Dr. Aqula begins to fall . . .

INT. COFFIN – NIGHT

Dr. Aqula gasps, snaps his eyes open and bolts upright, slamming his head into the coffin lid.

INT. MAUSOLEUM – NIGHT

The lid of the coffin squeaks open.  Dr. Aqula sits up rubbing his head and looking weary.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                                (sighs)
                                    Ah, immortality, it just goes on and
                                    on.  To outlive all of the great minds
                                    of history, just to end up in this age
                                    of stupidity.

Dr. Aqula sighs deeply, shaking his head. 

Our view moves past him and over to the window, where we see . . .

EXT. TOWN OF BAD AX – NIGHT

The average American small town of Bad Ax, it’s lights twinkling in the night.

                                                            DR. AQULA (O.S.)
                                    It’s nothing like the old days . . .

He flashes back to . . .
                                               
                                                                                                                        DISSOLVE:

INT. CRYPT – NIGHT

Dr. Aqula’s coffin sits on a stone pedestal in a brick-walled crypt.  We can hear the sound of explosions outside, shaking the crypt and causing debris to fall from the ceiling.

The coffin opens and Dr. Aqula sits up, smiling.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Ah, to wake to the sounds of death
                                    from above.  Today will be a good
                                    day.

Our view moves to the crypt’s window, where we see . . .

EXT. LONDON – NIGHT

The London Blitz is occurring.  Bombs are dropping on the city, buildings are exploding and collapsing, sirens are wailing, people run for cover.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                                (sighs)
                                    Still . . . it’s not like it was in the really
                                    good old days . . .

Dr. Aqula flashes back to . . .

                                                                                                            DISSOLVE:

INT. CELLAR – NIGHT

The coffin sits on the stone floor of a cellar.  We hear a shouted VOICE outside.

                                                            VOICE (O.S.)
                                    Bring out your dead!  Bring out your
                                    dead!

The coffin opens and Dr. Aqula sits up, smiling wistfully.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Ah, the Black Plague, what a great
                                    year this has been, still . . .

Dr. Aqula flashes back to . . .

INT. MUD HUT – NIGHT

The coffin is now made of plain, unfinished wood, and sits on the floor of a mud hut.  Dr. Aqula sits up wearing a simple cotton robe, and he is smiling happily.  He turns and looks out the window, where there is a long row of crucified bodies.  Roman soldiers are whipping people and nailing them to the crosses.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Ah, to be young and in love in what
                                    is surely the best of all times.

A subtitle appears in Hebrew of what he just said.  Dr. Aqula glances down at the subtitle.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Hey, wait a minute.  What the hell language
                                    am I speaking?  And how many flashbacks
                                    am I in?

He shakes his head hard, jolting himself back to reality . . .

END FLASHBACK

INT. MAUSOLEUM – NIGHT

The lid of the coffin swings open and Dr. Aqula sits up.  He’s in his own coffin in the mausoleum in his house.  The coffin, unfortunately, is so unstable on the thin pedestal that the weight of the lid swinging open causes it to fall over backward.  Dr. Aqula’s eyes widen in horror.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Oh, shit!

The coffin hits the floor with a crash.

INT. DR. AQULA’S HOUSE/ BEDROOM – NIGHT

Estelle sits at a desk in her bedroom, tensely smoking a cigarette in a roach-clip-like holder attached to her finger, writing with a quill pen.  Sitting all around her on the desk are piles and piles of hand-written pages of a screenplay, entitled VICTIMIZED! The Bride of Frankenstein’s True Story.”

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Playing myself will be my greatest
                                    part.  And I won’t even have to try
                                    because I’ll be playing myself.  And
                                    who better than I knows how to play
                                    me?  It’s the part I was born to play.

Meanwhile, a black cats walks by.  Estelle snaps her head around and screams.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    For Christ’s sake, quit stomping around!

The cat freezes, then quickly runs away.  Estelle returns to her writing.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Scene 378, the Bride takes her revenge.
                                    Fade in . . .

EXT. DR. AQULA’S HOUSE – NIGHT

Frank Stein steps up outside Dr. Aqula’s house in his torn tank-top looking utterly miserable.  He steps up underneath the bedroom window, drops to his knees and
bellows . . .

                                                            FRANK
                                    Stella!  Stella! 

Estelle opens the bedroom window and sticks her head out.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Have you gone completely meshuga?
                                    You’re so loud you’ll wake the dead.
                       
                                                            FRANK
                                    Who?  Your husband?  Frankenstein
                                    not care.  You come down.  Please.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    If I come down there for one second,
                                    then you’ll leave?

                                                            FRANK
                                    Yes.

Estelle disappears inside.  Frank slicks his hair back and straightens his shirt.

Estelle steps up to him in her flimsy, transparent white nightgown, backlit in the moonlight.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Why, Frank?  Why can’t you get it
                                    through your abnormally deformed
                                    brain that I don’t love you anymore?

Frank looks at her pleadingly.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein not think with head. 
                                    Frankenstein think with heart.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Oh, yeah?

Estelle rams her hand right into Frank’s chest and tears out his beating heart.  She holds it up to Frank’s face.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Well stop it!

Estelle pitches Frank’s heart into the woods.

Frank screams in agony, grabbing his empty chest cavity.

Patches the rotting dog runs up, grabs Frank’s heart in it’s mouth and scampers away.

Frank shrieks and chases after the dog.
                                               
Estelle shakes her head in amazement.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Monsters.  You can’t live with ‘em,
                                    and you can’t kill ‘em ‘cause they’re
                                    already dead.

She shrugs and heads inside.

EXT. CITYSCAPE – NIGHT

The cityscape twinkles in the night.  The marionette bat flies into view, then comes face to face with another bat, only this bat is wearing a cowboy hat.

                                                            DR. AQULA
                                    Who are you?

                                                            BAT WITH HAT
                                    Me?  Why, pardner, I’m Bat Masterson. 
                                    Yeeha!  
                                                (pulls a pistol)
                                    Stick ‘em up.

INT. BAR – NIGHT

Andy and Barney sit down at a booth in the bar.  The WAITRESS steps up.

                                                            WAITRESS
                                    Would you fellahs like a drink?

                                                            ANDY
                                    We’re on duty.
                                                (chuckles)
                                    Like it matters.  Two boilermakers,
                                    please.  Make ‘em doubles.

The Waitress returns a moment later with two mugs of whiskey and two buckets of beer.  The two cops drop the mugs of whiskey into the buckets of beer.  Barney holds up his bucket.

                                                            BARNEY
                                    Here’s to your upcoming retirement.

Andy nods, smiles, and raises his bucket.  They touch buckets, then each of them take a big gulp.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Thanks.  You know, once I retire
                                    at the end of the month, I’m gonna
                                    spend all of my time up at the cabin
                                    on the lake.  Me and Cindy will just
                                                (continued)

                                                            ANDY (cont.)
                                    while away our days, relaxing, and
                                    not worrying about a thing.  I’ll do
                                    a little fishing, catch up on my reading.
                                    Yep, it’s all smooth sailing from here
                                    on out.  The future is looking pretty
                                    bright, let me tell you—

Barney rubs his chin, looking around suspiciously.

                                                            BARNEY
                                    —Maybe you ought to knock wood
                                    or something.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Oh, come on, Barney, you’re not
                                    superstitious, are you?

                                                            BARNEY
                                    Uh, yeah, kind of.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Well that’s just silly.  Grow up.
                                    Anyway, about my future, and how
                                    great it’s all gonna be—

Barney stands and heads to the bathroom.

                                                            BARNEY
                                    —‘Scuse me a sec, will ya.

Barney walks away.  Andy sips his drink and chuckles.  His eyes grow misty as he remembers . . .

ANDY’S FLASHBACK:

INT. BAR – NIGHT

Andy is sitting in exactly the same spot, in exactly the same position, wearing the same policeman’s uniform, only his hair and mustache are jet black.

A title reads: “20 Years Earlier.”

Andy is seated across from a BORED COP.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Y’know, in twenty years, when I
                                    retire, things are gonna be just great. 
                                    Just great.  I’m gonna get me a cabin
                                    in the woods, move up there and
                                    spend all day fishin’.  Yes, sir, it’s
                                    gonna be swell.
                                   
The Bored Cop stands up.

                                                            BORED COP
                                    Back in a minute.

The Bored Cop walks away toward the bathroom.

Andy sits there with a faraway look in his eyes, which grow misty as he remembers . . .

ANDY’S FLASHBACK WITHIN A FLASHBACK:

INT. SODA SHOP – DAY

Andy is sitting in the exact same position, only now his hair is long, he has long mutton-chop sideburns, no mustache, and is a hippy.  He wears beads and a button that says, “Impeach LBJ.”

A title reads: “20 Years earlier.”

Andy speaks to a BORED HIPPY CHICK with long wavy hair.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Y’know, once I get a job, and I’ve
                                    worked for about twenty years, I’m
                                    gonna retire, and man, it’s gonna be
                                    groovy, let me tell you.  I’m gonna
                                    live in a carved-out tree, and I’ll
                                    have a pet hawk that’ll catch rabbits
                                    for me to eat—

The Bored Hippy Chick stands up and heads to the john.

                                                            BORED HIPPY CHICK
                                    Excuse me a sec.

She leaves.  Andy rubs his chin and his eyes grow misty as he remembers . . .

END FLASHBACK

INT. BAR – NIGHT

Barney sits back down across from the gray-haired, 65-year-old version of Andy.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Now, what was I talking about?

                                                            BARNEY
                                    Your retirement?

                                                            ANDY
                                    Oh, yeah.  So, anyway, once I retire . . .

Barney rolls his eyes and sighs. 

INT. CHURCH/ PRIEST’S ROOM – NIGHT

Father Paddy reclines on his cot, a drink in his hand and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, the smoke rising up into his eyes causing him to squint.  He’s smash-ass drunk.  His eyes roll into the back of his head and he fantasizes . . .

THE PRIEST’S FANTASY:

EXT. HILLTOP – DAY

This is Calvary Hill and the crucifixion of Jesus Christ is just occurring.  Roman soldiers have JESUS on his back on the cross and are just about to pound spikes into his palms.

Father Paddy steps up, puts his hands firmly on his hips and states . . .

                                                            FATHER PADDY
                                    I wouldn’t do that if I were you!

                                                            ROMAN SOLDIER
                                    Jupiter!  It’s the mad warrior priest.

The Roman soldier drops the wooden mallet and backs away.  Jesus jumps to his feet, runs over and stands back to back with Father Paddy.

                                                            JESUS
                                    Sure, I believe in turning the other
                                    cheek, but I’m all out of cheeks.

                                                            FATHER PADDY
                                    Then it’s time we kick some ass-cheek!

                                                            JESUS
                                    Roger that, good buddy.  It’s Clobberin’
                                    Time!

Jesus and Father Paddy wade into the Roman soldiers, using fantastic martial arts moves.

END FLASHBACK

INT. CHURCH/PRIEST’S ROOM – NIGHT

Father Paddy sits on his cot grinning, then falls over sideways, out cold.

                                                                                                                        DISSOLVE:

EXT. DR. AQUALA’S HOUSE – DAY

A FexEd truck pulls up in front of the house.  A DELIVERY MAN gets out of the truck holding a box and a clipboard, goes to the front door and rings the bell.

INT. DR. AQUALA’S HOUSE/ FOYER – DAY

Estelle steps up to the front door and opens it.

                                                            DELIVERY MAN
                                    FexEd.  Package for Estelle Stein-Aqula.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Oh, yes, that’s me.  Please, come in.

The Delivery Man steps inside and Estelle closes the door.  She takes the box from him as he looks down at his clipboard and furrows his brow.

                                                            DELIVERY MAN
                                    Huh?  That’s strange.  It says you shipped
                                    this from this address back to yourself
                                    at this same address.

Estelle begins opening the box.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Really?  How odd.

She reaches into the box, takes out a ball-peen hammer and cracks the Delivery Man over the head knocking him out.  Estelle hollers up the stairs.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Frankie!  Brittany! Lunch is ready!

EXT. LAKE SIDE – DAY

A LITTLE GIRL of seven years old sits by a lake with a pile of flowers in front of her and hums a lullaby.  Frank comes shambling up, his arms out in front of him, growling.  Frank sees the little girl and sits down beside her.  She smiles at him innocently and hands Frank a flower.  Frank takes the flower, sniffs it and it smells nice. 

The little girl takes a flower from the pile and throws it into the lake.  Frank throws his flower in the lake, too.  She throws another flower in the water, then so does Frank.  Soon the flowers are all gone.  Frank looks at the little girl with a confused expression.  The little girl becomes angry that there are no more flowers.  She grabs a hold of Frank, lifts him above her head, spins him around and throws him screaming into the lake, where he lands with a splash.

EXT. DR. AQULA’S HOUSE – DAY

Out on the lawn we hear the sound of a small motorized appliance.  We might assume that it’s a lawn mower, but in fact it’s Estelle with a big professional model shop-vac. She’s aiming the wide hose up into a tree.  Estelle is furious.

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    I told you to shut up and I meant
                                    it!

The birds and squirrels are sucked out of the branches of the tree and into the hose of the shop-vac.  Thoop, thoop, thoop . . .

                                                            ESTELLE
                                    Maybe now I’ll get a little peace and
                                    quiet around here.

Estelle throws down the vacuum hose and heads back into the house.  Meanwhile, the shop-vac canister jiggles and muffled whimpering and chirping can be heard from within.

                                                                                                                        DISSOLVE:

INT. BAR – NIGHT

Frank Stein enters a dark bar and sits down on a stool at the bar.  A BARTENDER steps up.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    What can I getcha?

                                                            FRANK
                                    Formaldehyde.  Tall glass.

The Bartender looks surprised.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    Formaldehyde, eh?  We don’t get
                                    much call for that around here.  Let
                                    me take a look. 
                                                (he looks under the bar) 
                                    Hey, here’s some, what’dya know
                                    about that.  Straight up or rocks?

                                                            FRANK
                                    Rocks.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    Igneous or sedimentary?

                                                            FRANK
                                                (irritated)
                                    Too many questions hurt head.  Just
                                    get drink.

The Bartender does as he’s told and pours a large tumbler full of embalming fluid.  Frank takes the big glass and downs the whole drink.  He holds it out to the Bartender.

                                                            FRANK
                                    More.

Frank sets down his third empty glass.  He’s reasonably embalmed, his eyelids at half-mast.  Frank confesses to the Bartender . . .

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein not understand women.

The Bartender reaches over and hands him a Cosmopolitan Magazine.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    You want to understand women, study
                                    this.  It’ll show you just what they’re
                                    thinking.

Frank grabs hold of the magazine with both hands and inspects it upside down.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein not understand words.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    You want to understand words, you
                                    gotta study this.

The Bartender hands Frank a thick textbook entitled, “How To Read.”  Frank opens the book and a bright white light illuminates his face from below—it’s the light of knowledge.  Frank looks up in awe and wonder and takes hold of his chin like Rodin’s The Thinker.

MONTAGE:

Frank reads quickly, turning page after page.

A stack of books grows upward toward the ceiling.

Frank wears a white lab coat and goggles as he works with a chemistry set, removing a bubbling beaker from a Bunsen burner.

Frank wears a black mortar board and gown, receiving a diploma, smiling, proud, bowing, flashbulbs going off.

At a big ceremony Frank is being given the key to the city by local politicians

Frank is in a hotel room, holding the bloody key, a dead hooker on the bed.

Frank is back at the bar, half-smashed.  He shakes his head and holds up his glass.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Reading bad.  Drink good.  More.

EXT. BAR – NIGHT

Frank comes staggering out of the bar shit-ass drunk.  We see a dark figure step out of the shadows behind him and approach in a menacing fashion.  It’s half-wolf, half-man, it’s the WOOFMAN.  It looks like he and Frank are about to get into a monster battle, then Woofman cocks his head at an angle.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    Long time no see, Frank.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Leave me alone!

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    That’s not what you said last month.
                                    You remember don’t you, it was a full
                                    moon, just like tonight.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein not like that.  Frankenstein
                                    like girls.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    That’s sure not how it seemed last
                                    month.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein was drunk.  Just wanted
                                    massage.  Had crick in neck.

The Woofman raises his hairy eyebrows.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    You’re drunk now, too.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Fuck off!

Woofman gets seriously angry and shoves his hairy face into Frank’s face.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    I will not be ignored!

                                                            FRANK
                                    Frankenstein not understand.  Why you
                                    like Frankenstein?

Woofman snarls like a wolf.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    Because I think you’re 100% man.

Frank waves his finger.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Ah-ha!  No.  Frankenstein only 77%
                                    man.  22% woman.  2% byproducts
                                    and filler.  So leave me alone!

Frank stomps away.  Woofman watches him get into a tiny little Mini-Cooper and drive away.  The car jerks forward, then suddenly brakes, then squeals forward again.  Woofman turns around and heads back into the bar.

INT. FRANK’S CAR – NIGHT

Inside Frank’s Mini-Cooper his fat boot is so big it cover the gas pedal and the brake pedal, too.  He tries to turn his foot sideways and poke the gas pedal with his boot-tip.  The boot slips under the brake pedal, jamming the gas to the floor.  The car burns rubber up the road.

INT. BAR – NIGHT

Woofman sits down at the bar and the Bartender steps up to serve him.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    What can I getcha?

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    Wolfbane & tonic.

The Bartender rubs his chin.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    Wolfbane & tonic, eh?  We don’t get
                                    much call for that around here.  Let
                                    me look.
                                                (looks under the bar)
                                    Hey, here’s some.  What do you know
                                    about that.

The Bartender makes the drink and hands it to the Woofman, who takes a big gulp.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    Y’know, I don’t understand men.

The Bartender nods

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    You wanna understand men, study
                                    this.

The Bartender drops a copy of Juggs Magazine in front of Woofman.  There’s a nude girl with large breasts on the cover.  Woofman pushes it away.

                                                            WOOFMAN
                                    But I don’t like girls.

                                                            BARTENDER
                                    Oh.  Well, then you’re gonna have to
                                    study this.

The Bartender drops a big, hardcover copy of “The Writings of Sigmund Freud” on the bar with a thump.  Woofman rubs his furry chin and remembers . . .

WOOFMAN’S FLASHBACK:

INT. BEDROOM – DAY

LITTLE WOOFMAN is ten years old and looks exceedingly bored and tortured.  His mother, MRS. WOOFMAN, is busy dressing him in a colorful, flouncy dress.

                                                            MRS. WOOFMAN
                                    There.  You look wonderful.

                                                            LITTLE WOOFMAN
                                    But ma, I’m a boy.

                                                            MRS. WOOFMAN
                                    Says you.  Now turn around.

Little Woofman does as he’s told and turns around.  He feels the material of the skirt and smiles.

                                                            LITTLE WOOFMAN
                                    This is pretty.  Silky

                                                            MRS. WOOFMAN
                                    It’s called taffeta.

                                                            LITTLE WOOFMAN
                                                (smiles)
                                    Mmmmmm . . .  Nice.

END FLASHBACK:

INT. POLICE CAR – NIGHT

Andy and Barney sit in the police cruiser with the lights off, drinking coffee and eating donuts.

                                                            ANDY
                                    . . . And I won’t have to shave, polish
                                    my shoes, press my slacks.  Bathing,
                                    optional.  I won’t have to worry about
                                    my weight, either.  I’ll start everyday
                                    with a dozen jelly-filled donuts,
                                    smothered in gravy . . .  Yeah, it’s
                                    gonna be Andy-time.  No self-indulgent,
                                    purposeless activity will be out of bounds. 
                                    I’ll seek the small pleasures in life, like
                                    squeezing an egg out of chicken—

The Mini-Cooper goes racing past the police cruiser at a high speed, sparks flying out from below the car from the dragging muffler.  Andy puts it in gear and pulls out onto the road in pursuit while Barney switches on the flashers and siren.

INT. FRANK’S CAR – NIGHT

Frank drives along weaving back and forth, his eyes half-closed, clearly and obviously drunk.  Suddenly, there are red and blue lights illuminating him from behind.  Frank glances in the rear-view mirror and sees the police car with it’s flashers on.  Frank frowns and pulls over.

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

The police car also pulls over and stops.  Andy and Barney both get out of the car.

                                                            ANDY
                                    His muffler’s dragging.  You check
                                    out the vehicle, I’ll deal with the
                                    driver.

Barney nods.  The two cops cautiously approach Frank’s car.  Barney stops at the rear end of the car, takes out his nightstick and breaks the tail-light.

                                                            BARNEY
                                                (calls out)
                                    He’s gotta busted turn signal.

Barney squats down and looks underneath the car, poking around with his nightstick.  Meanwhile, Andy steps up to the driver’s window.

                                                            ANDY
                                    All right, outta the car, lead-foot.

Frank’s big lead-filled shoes step out of the car and he stands up—he’s seven feet tall!  Andy looks up at him. 

                                                            ANDY
                                    You’re a big one. 

Barney is poking around under the car.  Gasoline is dripping out from under the engine.  Barney finds the leak with the end of his stick.  He sniffs it.

                                                            BARNEY
                                    He’s got a leaky fuel pump, too.

Andy sniffs around Frank and smells something.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Have you been drinking?

                                                            FRANK
                                    Me?  No.  Why you ask?

                                                            ANDY
                                    You smell like a morgue.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Me always smell like morgue.  Me
                                    like smell.  Find it tantalizing.

Andy pulls out a Breath-O-Lyzer and holds the tube out to Frank.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Blow in here.

Frank blows into the end of the tube.  The digital read-out on the Breath-O-Lyzer climbs higher and higher and higher.  Andy can’t believe his eyes.  The Breath-O-Lyzer goes to a flashing red light accompanied by a warning buzzer.  The read-out says, “Evacuate Area.”  Andy tosses the machine and it explodes in mid-air.

Now Frank is made to walk a straight line, one big lead foot in front of the other.

Then he’s made to touch his nose with each index finger.

Then he’s made to solve a Rubic’s Cube, which he does pretty quickly under the circumstances.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Now name all of the presidents of the
                                    United States, from oldest to newest,
                                    and it must be in the form of a question. 
                                    You have two minutes.  Go.

Frank furrows his brow.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Um, oh, oh, Frankenstein know this one.
                                                (he recites . . .)
                                    Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Madison,
                                    Monroe . . .

Barney, meanwhile, is still snooping around underneath the car, poking at things with his nightstick.  He touches the moist nightstick to the hot exhaust pipe and the end of the stick bursts into flames.  Barney waves it and blows on it trying to put it out.

Meanwhile, back at the drunk test.

                                                            FRANK
                                    . . . Bush, Clinton, Bush.

Andy shakes his head sadly.

                                                            ANDY
                                    I’m sorry, you didn’t phrase it as a
                                    question.  Therefore, you are drunk,
                                    and I’m sorry, but I’ve got to arrest
                                    you for driving under the influence.

Frank goes insane, howling at the top of his lungs.

                                                            FRANK
                                    Not fair!  Not in true spirit of law! 
                                    Mere technicality!

Frank begins lurching toward Andy.  Andy pulls out his Taser gun.

                                                            ANDY
                                    Stop or I’ll Taser you!

Frank continues to approach, so Andy fires the Taser gun just as a big eighteen-wheel truck goes by.  The tailwind of the passing truck causes the Taser darts to turn around in mid-air and go right back into Andy’s chest.  The pain causes him to pull the trigger and electrocute himself.

                                                            ANDY
                                                (through gritted teeth)
                                    Whoops.

Frank grabs Andy by his shirt, lifts him over his head, spins him around, the electricity coursing through both of them.  Frank has sparks coming out of the bolts in his head.  Frank glances down and grins—he’s got an enormous woody.  Frank holds Andy by the collar with one hand, grabs the top of Andy’s head with the other hand and proceeds to twist Andy’s head around 180 degrees, until he’s facing Barney.

                                                            ANDY
                                                (through gritted teeth)
                                    a . . . little . . . help . . . here . . . help . . .

Frank keeps turning Andy’s head until he twists it right off his body.  Frank throws the head one way, then throws the body the other way.  

Barney sees what has happened and is utterly horrified. 

                                                            BARNEY
                                    Oh my God, the . . . The Horribleness!

Frank waves his arms in the air and bellows.  He turns and sees Barney and begins moving in on him.  Barney is so horrified that he can’t move or breathe.  Just as Frank steps up to the petrified cop, Barney raises his arms to cover his face, bringing up the burning nightstick.  Frank sees the flames come near him, recoils and runs off into the woods.  Barney’s eyes roll into the back of his skull and he passes out.

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