STORIES
MAKE ME FAMOUS
By
Josh Becker
Note: "This is the Episode that was supposed to star Bruce Campbell"
EXT. GARAGE – DAY
From within a small, green, wooden garage that’s not connected to a house, we can hear the sound of a TV set playing.
INT. GARAGE – DAY
Inside the garage the walls are made of raw 2x4s, although most of the wall space is covered in movie posters, all starring a handsome, dark-haired actor named Bryce Crandall. The garage is decorated with a variety of old junk, like car tires, broken bicycles, black garbage bags full of who-knows-what? Watching TV while eating sardines out of the can is CHAZZ, a thin, tall, geeky-looking 25-year-old. Also for dinner are rye crisp crackers and a big bottle of water. Chazz is avidly watching the local news (which we can’t see, just hear).
FEMALE COMMENTATOR (O.S.)
. . . But after 18 hours of being locked in the
car, without water, and in this record-breaking
heat, Happy the dachshund figured out how to
unlock the door and open it, finally escaping
and making her way to her stricken owner
where she barked until someone came and
helped. Isn’t that just an amazing story, Bill?
MALE COMMEDNTATOR (O.S)
(fake laughing)
It sure is, Holly, and I’ll tell you, that was one
“hot dog.”
(now she fakes a laugh)
That’s a good one. In local news, Michigan’s
own Bryce Crandall, star of the hit TV series,
Scorch Report, as well as the famous Dead
Don’t Die trilogy, will be in town this weekend
for the Motor City Nightmare/Frightmare
Horror Convention down at Joe Louis Arena.
Chazz drops the plastic water bottle, which bounces, falls on its side and pours water on the concrete floor.
FEMALE COMMENTATOR (O.S.)
Seriously, Bryce Crandall is one of my very
favorite actors.
MALE COMMENTATOR (O.S.)
Me, too, and I just love Scorch Report.
Chazz has a weird, intense expression on his face as he picks up the remote and turns off the TV. He stands and begins to pace nervously.
CHAZZ
Mr. Crandall, my name’s Chazz, and I’m
your biggest fan in the whole world. If I
could just work with you once, you know,
act with you in something, my whole life
would be fulfilled. That’d be all right,
wouldn’t it?
(imitating Bryce Crandall)
Sure it would, Chazz. Not a problem.
(back to his own voice)
Oh, that’s so awesome! I knew I could
count on you.
EXT. WESTIN HOTEL – DAY
A black limousine pulls up in front of swanky, modern Westin Hotel in downtown Detroit. The doorman opens the limo door and out steps BRYCE CRANDALL, tall, handsome, dark hair with a bit of salt and pepper at the temples, and an exceptionally square chin. The doorman opens the front door and Bryce and the bellhop enter the hotel.
INT. WESTIN HOTEL – DAY
Bryce walks into the beautifully appointed lobby of the hotel. He steps up to the front desk. A CLERK immediately steps up and hands Bryce his key.
CLERK
We’re very pleased to have you with
us again, Mr. Crandall.
BRYCE
My pleasure.
CLERK
Where’s your assistant?
BRYCE
He’ll be in later tonight.
CLERK
Have a pleasant stay.
BRYCE
I’m sure I will.
Bryce turns and heads toward the elevators. A uniformed BELLHOP steps up behind Bryce rolling a suitcase behind him.
INT. HOTEL ROOM – DAY
It’s a huge, gorgeous hotel room. The Bellhop opens the door and lets Bryce in, then follows along after him.
BELLHOP
I hope you enjoy your stay here, Mr.
Crandall.
Bryce hands the Bellhop a ten dollar bill.
BRYCE
I’m sure I will.
BELLHOP
Thank you so much, Mr. Crandall. I
just love the Dead Don’t Die movies.
BRYCE
I appreciate that.
With a bow, the Bellhop leaves. Bryce rolls his suitcase over to the bedroom, then wanders somewhat aimlessly around the room. He finally stops at the mini-bar. He takes out a drink glass, then two little bottles of Gray Goose vodka and prepares to make himself a drink. Bryce opens the fridge, looks inside and frowns. He steps over to the telephone, picks it up and pushes one button. An OPERATOR answers.
OPERATOR
Room service, may I help you?
BRYCE
Could I please get a bucket of ice?
OPERATOR
Certainly, Mr. Crandall. It will be right up.
BRYCE
Thank you.
OPERATOR
My pleasure, sir.
Bryce hangs up. He sits down on the couch, takes out his iPhone and is just about to dial when there’s a knock at the door.
BRYCE
That was quick.
Bryce sets his phone down, stands, crosses to the door and opens it. At the door stands Chazz dressed as a uniformed waiter and pushing a stainless steel cart. Bryce points at the bar.
BRYCE
Just set it over there, would you please?
Chazz pushes the cart into the room and the door shuts behind him.
CHAZZ
Mr. Crandall. Bryce. You’ve gotta listen
to me.
BRYCE
What?
CHAZZ
(inhales deeply)
I’ve seen all of your movies hundreds of
times. I’ve seen the Dead Don’t Die movies
thousands of times. I watch Scorch Report
every week. I’m your biggest fan in the whole
world.
BRYCE
Well that’s great.
CHAZZ
So you’ve just gotta make me famous.
BRYCE
(frowns)
Me make you famous? How?
CHAZZ
Uh . . . you could put me in Scorch Report.
BRYCE
I don’t put anybody in the show. I’m just
an actor.
CHAZZ
(completely confused)
What do you mean?
BRYCE
I mean, the producers choose the actors,
just like they chose me. I just act in the
show, I’m not a producer.
CHAZZ
(dumbfounded)
You’re not?
BRYCE
No, I’m not. Have you done any acting?
CHAZZ
Just in my own home videos.
BRYCE
Well, that’s a good place to start. I started
off making super-8 movies with my buddies.
Just keep going and maybe you’ll do something
really good.
Chazz’s face goes slack and pale. His eyes widen in disappointment.
CHAZZ
You mean you won’t put me in the show?
BRYCE
I just explained, I don’t put anyone in the
show. The producers do.
CHAZZ
You won’t make me famous?
BRYCE
(points)
You have to make you famous, I can’t do
it for you.
Chazz grits his teeth, reaches into his waiter’s jacket and pulls out a Smith & Wesson .38 pistol.
CHAZZ
Oh, yes you can.
Bryce puts up his hands, palms out.
BRYCE
Whoa, whoa, whoa, big fella. Better put
that way. Somebody might get hurt, and
I’d hate for it to be me.
CHAZZ
Don’t you see, I have to be famous, otherwise
what’s the point?
BRYCE
Take my word for it, being famous isn’t
all it’s cracked up to be.
CHAZZ
Then I guess I’ll just have to be famous for
being the man that killed Bryce Crandall.
How’s that?
BRYCE
That’s not famous, that’s infamous. That’s
the opposite of famous.
CHAZZ
(desperate)
Then what am I supposed to do? I live in
a fucking garage! I eat sardines and rye
crisp for every meal! I separate bottles at
the liquor store at night so I can afford the
fucking sardines and rye crisp! Do you
know how fucking cold it gets in there in
the winter? Or hot it gets in the summer?
It’s unbearable! I can’t go on like this!
Chazz has brought himself to tears and shuts his eyes to clear them. Bryce steps forward, grabs Chazz’s hand and the gun, aims the gun away from himself and applies pressure, but Chazz isn’t giving up the gun. Bryce deftly winds up and gives Chazz a good solid elbow to the side of the head, causing him to immediately release the pistol and fall to the floor on his back. Bryce holds the pistol in the palm of his hand.
BRYCE
Look, nobody got hurt. No harm no foul.
And since I’d prefer not to make a big deal
out of this thing, you can just get up and
leave and I won’t call the cops.
Chazz speaks from his position on his back on the floor.
CHAZZ
Then you won’t make me famous?
BRYCE
(angry)
I can’t make you famous! Are you deaf?
But I can let you walk out of here, so start
walkin’. Now! Move it!
But Chazz doesn’t move.
CHAZZ
Can I have my gun back?
BRYCE
No, you can’t.
Chazz gets an even more maniacal, insane look in his eyes.
CHAZZ
I’ll walk outta here, but you haven’t seen
the last of me. I’ll be around. I’ll get another
gun. Every place you show up, every horror
convention, every movie premiere, every
everything, I’ll be in the crowd, waiting.
And you’ll see me and you’ll know why
I’m there. And sooner or later you’ll just
have to make me famous.
Bryce takes the pistol, cocks the hammer, aims the barrel at Chazz’s forehead and pulls the trigger. A bullet hole appears in Chazz’s forehead and his brains and blood spatter the carpet. Now Bryce has a weird, slightly evil look in his eyes.
BRYCE
OK, now you’re famous. You were killed
by the one and only Bryce Crandall.
Congratulations.
(drops the pistol
on the dead body)
Sadly for you, you’re not the only one. It’s
just way too bad there are so many fucked
up assholes like you around who won’t see
reason under any circumstances. I told you,
man, it ain’t that easy being famous, either.
Just then the room phone rings. Bryce answers it and hears the agitated voice of the hotel MANAGER. Bryce sits down on the couch.
BRYCE
Hello?
MANAGER (O.S.)
Mr. Crandall. It’s been reported that there
was the sound of a gunshot coming from
your room.
BRYCE
Yes, there was. I’ve had an intruder. There’s
been violence. Please call the police.
MANAGER (O.S.)
Are you all right?
BRYCE
I’m fine, but the intruder is dead.
MANAGER (O.S.)
Oh, dear god. That’s horrible.
BRYCE
Yes, it’s a tragedy. Terrible. Oh, by the
way, please don’t forget to send up that
bucket of ice, OK? Thanks a lot.
Bryce hangs up.
FADE OUT