MAY 24 2043 LOS ANGELES 18:39 PST
Two cars fly down
Sunset Boulevard. One, a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T nearly flips while
drifting through a hairpin turn. The other, an orange 1994 Orange Toyota Supra
falls behind in the following straightaway until a flash of blue screams out
the tailpipe. The driver engages his nitrous and sores ahead. As the Charger
pulls even, both erupt in flames. Metal, rubber, and carnage fly across the
street, engulfing the palm trees and nearby abandoned shops. There are no
screams. No one is running panicked. No sirens. Through a cloud of smoke, two
eyes glow through an enormous robotic head.
"What's the
last thing you remember?" says the deepest voice in recorded history. An
old, balding, but still clearly jacked man leans in his chair. "I had a
glimpse into the past. You're going to have to do for me what I once did for
you."
"I can't do
it, Dom. I mean...Vin." An old Spanish woman stares him down. At least she
would, if she still had eyes. In front of this world-weary Vin Diesel stands
Letty. I mean...Michelle Rodriguez. "We need someone else. I am basically
ageless, but not immortal."
"So where do
we find one of those?" The Diesel stands, still towering over most of the
multi-ethnic celebrities huddling in the underground chambers they have called
home for decades. The sentinels lurking outside have ravaged the world, hunting
down all those not of pure Aryan blood.
"I believe I
may be of assistance." Out of the darkness emerges Keanu Reeves, his face
as pure as it was during Point
Break. "Forgive my intrusion, but I have heard of your...special
situation."
"Ha,"
says Michelle Rod. "Who let this busta down here?"
"Excuse me, I
do not believe we are acquainted?" says Keanu.
"Miche--Letty.
Michetty." Michelle says, sensing Keanu's voice despite her dual eye
patches. "Now get the fuck out." Keanu turns to leave.
"Wait,"
says The Diesel. "I want to know what he knows."
"Are you
serious, Vin? He's from...he's from the surface man, he put us down here?"
Michelle says. "The busta-"
"THE BUSTA
BROUGHT ME HOME!" Diesel's voice can level a mountain. "I want to
hear what he knows."
Shane Falco is
slightly taken aback but remains cool. "I only know that the people in
this room have pinpointed the moment that caused all this horror - that exact
moment where the world started to turn. With experience in what you are
proposing and all the immortal qualifications, I thought I would
volunteer."
"It's a
trick," says Michetty. "How can we trust him? Why would he help us?
Why do this?"
The Diesel remains
collected. "You heard about us and our whereabouts. How?"
"This is a
big organization living underground," Keanu begins. "Many among you
are used to the perks of stardom. Certainly it wasn't hard for some one above
to buy you out. What I am trying to do is give you a chance before they come
and destroy all of you. I ask you - what choice do you have?"
"Dom-"
"Strap him
down."
"Dom!"
"We trust
him! Do you know what you're in for, right Neo?"
"Say
it," says Keanu.
"Don't make
him say it, man," says Michetty.
"You know
we're going to prevent the return of apartheid and its spread on a global
scale," says Diesel.
"And its
enforcement by giant robots," says Keanu.
"Yeah,
that," says Michetty. "Why do you need to say it out loud, man?"
"So we all
know what we're fighting for." Keanu lies down on a slab of concrete.
Diesel places his hands on Keanu's temples. "So I wake up in my young body
and then what?"
"Find
him," says Diesel. "Find the man who can stop all of this."
Keanu's face glows bright blue. He starts screaming. "FIND PAUL
WALKER."
NOVEMBER 27 2013
LOS ANGELES 22:03 PST
Paul Walker is a
little drunk in the Hollywood Hills. He giggles at something Jason Segel says
and then stumbles his way up to find the bathroom. There's a long line full of
the likes of Hayden Christensen, Kevin Hart, Greta Gerwig - you know, the big
names. This isn't Paul's scene. He manages to make his way outside. Leaning
against the house, he unzips and a steady stream shoots from his wiener,
causing some steam on an unusually chilled Los Angeles evening. He is startled
by the sudden appearance of Keanu Reeves.
"Whoa,
cuz!" Paul exclaims. "Gimme a sec here, pal!"
"No problem,
dude," coos Keanu. Paul tops himself off and zips up.
"Wait -
you're Keanu Reeves."
"That's
right."
"I didn't
even know you were invited, here, cuz."
"Whoa, dude,
well, that's probably because I wasn't. I came here for you."
"What are you
talking about, cuz?"
"Can you stop
saying that, actually?"
"What?"
"'Cuz.' It
just seems like you're really awkwardly trying to sound black."
"Whhaat?"
Gal Gadot walks
outside.
"Hey! What
are you guys doing out here? You gotta come inside, you won't believe who just
showed up!" she says.
"I know, I'm
flattered but I just stopped by to - " Keanu begins.
"What's up,
Gadot?" Paul leaves Keanu immediately and follows Gal Gadot back inside.
Keanu follows, showing slight frustration. Back inside, Lady GaGa's ARTPOP is blaring as the lights have come
down. Specifically, Track 5. Blue and green
lasers dance around the white interior of the living room. Keanu tries to talk
to Paul again.
"I really
liked your work in Boiler Room"
he says.
"What?"
Paul can't hear over the music.
"BOILER
ROOM!"
"Haha! That
was Vin, man. I was in like, Takers and that hockey puck movie."
"Which
one?" The two men approach Gal Gadot who is talking to someone actually
wearing an entire Mitsubishi Eclipse.
"All the
trailers had me like, getting a hockey puck in the face or something."
"Running
Scared," The car says.
"Whoa - are
you Lady GaGa?!" asks Paul. Out of the hood pops out a glamorously dressed
Lady GaGa.
"That's
right, baby!" she exclaims. The crowd cheers. "Nice to meet you,
Paul, I love your movies!"
"Really?"
he asks skeptically.
"No, not
really. I'm going to talk to Gal Gadot now," she turns to Gadot. "So,
how'd that audition go?"
"I'm not
sure, they said I was too skinny," Gadot says.
"That's
bullshit," says GaGa. Paul looks dejected but walks to the bar. Keanu
follows him and whispers something in his ear.
"Hey, that's
Hollywood, right," says Gadot.
"That was a
big part, though, right?"
"Yeah, it
probably would have been a game changer."
"Your time
will come. I mean, you're in like, two of the better Fast movies or whatever, right, and what
else?"
"I don't
know," admits Gadot. "Hey, where did Paul go? It's his house."
"It's the
night before Thanksgiving in L.A., honey - who knows where any of us will end
up! I just hope he doesn't take what I said about his movies too seriously and
does something really crazy! I mean, the third one was good. He was in the
third one, right?"
Paul walks outside
with Keanu's arm around his shoulder.
"The only way
I do this is if I get to pick the driver," Paul says.
"Okay, Paul,
who did you have in mind?" Keanu replies.
"This dude I
grew up with in Barstow."
"Who's
that?"
"Nelson
Mandela."
NOVEMBER 29 2013
JOHANNESBURG 06:28 SAST
Paul and Keanu are
the only white people sitting in stands watching a demolition derby in a pit
below them. Metal smershes and cars collide as the crowds cheer.
"Rough
flight, dude," Keanu remarks.
"I know, we
totally missed Thanksgiving, cuz." Keanu gives Paul a look of annoyance.
The crowd starts revving up even louder than the engines as one driver
literally rams another car up into the stands.
"Jeepers
creepers it's like District 9 around here. That's your boy in the
Monte Carlo?" asks Keanu.
"Yeah that's
him." The driver rams another car. "Yeah, he's got some skills. And
he's crazy as hell, I'm tellin you." Keanu looks at him cock-eyed.
"In a good way, though, he's the man for the job." Another car hits
him, cracking his windshield. Mandela kicks it out.
"He's got
quite a record - 27 years upstate?" says Keanu. "Wait, it says here
he's under house arrest right now, can't go more than 100 yards away from his
home. Wait, that doesn't make sense, Mandela was freed, that was, you
know...that was a whole thing."
"Shows how
much you know," says Paul. Mandela smashes into another car and gives the
driver the finger. "Mandela loves to party." With another crash
Mandela has secured victory. The announcer crowns him the champion and he
emerges to screaming fans, panties and roses being tossed at him. Mandela's
smile vanishes, though, when he spies Paul Walker in the crowd. Sullen, he
walks away to his mobile home, ankle monitor ticking away. Paul and Keanu climb
down and follow him.
"Yo Nelson!
Nelson Mandela!" Paul shouts. Mandela ignores him. "Yo, whatever
happens next, just go with it," Paul says to Keanu. Paul then whistles to
Mandela and shouts "Yo! Madiba!" Mandela stops in his tracks.
"Only my
homeboys call me Madiba. Pig," he says. Around him, people chant
"Madiba! Madiba!" Mandela relents, "And yes, I guess those guys
do, too."
"I'm not a
cop anymore, bro," says Paul.
"Is that
true?" Mandela asks Keanu.
"I'm not sure
that was ever true. Were you a cop once, Paul Walker?" Paul and Mandela
start scuffling in the sand and throwing punches. Keanu slowly walks away
awkwardly.
"You still
fight like shit!" says Paul.
"What are you
doing here, Paul Walker?" guffles Mandela.
"I'ma choke you!"
Paul reaches his hand towards Mandela's neck. Mandela keeps punching his side.
"Twenty-seven
years I did! Where were you?" he screams.
"Just...wait,
how old is Paul Walker?" says Keanu, bemused.
"It wasn't my
fault!" Paul finally pushes Mandela off him. "It wasn't my fault,
bro. Listen, I - we need you. Something of your specialty. It's apartheid, man.
We need you to stop apartheid."
"I did that
like...twenty years ago," says Mandela.
"It's back,"
says Paul.
"It will
be," says Keanu. "In the future, worldwide racism is
institutionalized and strictly enforced. We don't know who is to blame, but we
know the instigator of the second apartheid was involved in underground street
races on a global scale. Nelson Mandela...buhbie - we need you now more than
ever."
Mandela looks at
these two white boys long and hard. "More than anyone I know the evils of
apartheid well. If what you say is true, I must act. There is a race in
Johannesburg across town in a few hours. I can get us in because hey, these
people love me. We can start looking there."
"Okay, but
remember - if we don't succeed by November 30, 3:30 pm pacific time - we're all
donezo," says Keanu.
"No
problem," says Paul.
MAY 25 2043 LOS ANGELES
10:15 PST
"Are we going
to be okay?" Jordanna Brewster asks Michetty. The girls are digging
through their street racing archives looking for clues.
"I don't
know. Keep looking for any clues you can find. Anything that can help us figure
out who started all this shit," Michetty replies.
"Do you think
that Fast 23 would have been better if Paul Walker
was in it?"
"When did
that one come out, again?"
"2018."
"Oh yeah. I
don't know, I think Justin was a fine replacement." Michetty looks
longingly at a faded framed picture of Justin Bieber on the wall.
"Well,
obviously you can't compare him to the greatest action star of all time.
Hey!" Suddenly Jordanna Brewster finds something - she picks up an old
photo. "Look at this?!" Michetty rushes over and looks over
Jordanna's shoulder.
"We need to
show this to Vin. I mean...Dom."
In the central
room, Dom sits on his thrown, unable to hide a significant erection.
"Hey Dom -
ugh, come on, man," says Michetty.
"This doesn't
feel at home yet?" Dom asks.
"No...you
idiot. Check this out." Michetty shows him the picture. Dom studies it
intently.
"What does
this mean?" From the shadows, Bishop emerges.
"Excuse me, I
believe I may be of assistance..." Bishop says.
"Where-what
the hell, where do you people keep coming from?" Michetty asks.
"I...I mean,
I've just been here. Just because you didn't say hi-" Bishop begins.
"Alright,
shut up - what are you thinking?"
"I know that
man. I can go back and warn Paul and Keanu. That's our guy, no doubt."
"Bishop, I
don't ask this of you lightly-" says Dom.
"You never
do, sir." says Bishop.
"Good
luck." Says Michetty. They all pause for a sec.
"Wait, so
now, Bishop wasn't even born so we can't send his mind back, how are going to -
I mean, is this like a Denzel Déjà
vu thing where we can just
send the picture back or...what?" Mia asks. Everyone looks at each other.
"Uh, I don't
know, it's the future, we'll figure something out," says Dom.
NOVEMBER 29 2013
JOHANNESBURG 09:08 SAST
Hundreds of South Africans crowd the streets of Johannesburg.
They're gushing over a dozen high-end racing vehicles that are about to tear
through the city streets. Rivals rev their engines in intimidation and a
continuous dubstep beat nearly drones out the steady hum of vuvuzelas. Mandela,
Keanu, and Paul Walker pull up in their own rides. Keanu drives a 2005 Mazda
RX-7 F3DS while Mandela and Paul Walker are rocking a 2000 Nissan Silvia S15.
They are immediately given stink eyes by everyone around them.
"I thought they loved you here," says Keanu.
"They do, but see that guy there," Mandela motions to a
large, muscular balding white man with tattoos who looks like he just emerged
from Mad Max's apocalyptic
wasteland. "He don't like me."
"Because of your progress against apartheid?" asks Paul.
"No, I just ran over his dog in the last race," Mandela
answers. "While beating him." The man walks up them.
"You got some nerve coming back here, old man," says the
man. "You stole my title from me."
"I mean no disrespect to you, Larry," says Mandela.
"That's not my name," Larry turns to the crowd.
"WHAT IS MY NAME?"
"DRIFT KING!" The crowd erupts and begins to laugh at
our boys.
"Did we seriously find the one part in South Africa who hates
Nelson Mandela?" asks Keanu.
"Yeah, the white part," Paul replies.
"That's a little harsh, I have many supporters in a nation
united by - " Mandela begins.
"I am DK. Now I'm going to DK Punch your ass,
Madiba-motherfucker!" Larry gets in Mandela's face, brow to brow.
"Get in the damn car." Keanu intervenes.
"Hey, back off, bro!" He pushes Larry, who backs into a
spectator holding a large slush puppy. It spills blue all over Larry's white
shirt. Larry is now as pissed as the side of Paul Walker's house last night.
"You're next, fucker," he points at Keanu.
"Whatever," Keanu adjusts his collar. Paul hops in the
Nissan in the left-hand passenger seat next to Mandela. Keanu in his Mazda revs
the engine and grips the wheel. He looks to his right and sees Larry giving
him...yes, it is the look of death. Mandela looks to his right and checks on
Keanu. Paul glances to the left and sees the fourth racer, Takashi.
"Yeah, I'm here too, asshole!" Takashi shouts to him.
Mandela reaches his hand out the window and fist-bumps Keanu. A surprisingly
busty Japanese girl walks out carrying a flag to start the race.
"Hey, why are we doing this in daylight, anyway? Won't we get
busted?" Paul asks Mandela.
"No one really gives a shit," Mandela replies. The woman
points to another busy Japanese girl to her left.
"READY?!" she says. The starter points to her right.
"SETTO?!" that woman shouts.
"Chosen one my ass..." Larry mutters.
"Where are we?" asks Paul.
"GO!" the starter waves her hands up. The race is on.
The cars dart and weave through downtown Johannesburg, kicking up dust and
disturbing everyone who is just trying to get on with their normal day. Larry
pulls to an early lead, followed by Mandela, Keanu, and Takashi. They drift
through a construction site, weaving in between half-built beams and huge
cement blocks. The lead changes and with some quick maneuvering, Keanu pulls in
front. Larry eyes a handgun on his passenger seat.
They move back on to the streets and fly through a wide tunnel,
darting in between normal traffic. They look like a fucking DNA Helix, man,
this is cool. Larry rams the back of Mandela's car and his head jerks back and
forth. Takashi also tries to ram him and get his Ben-Hur on, but Mandela is
quicker than that. He pulls his wheel hard and shakes Takashi off. Suddenly
he's unable to swerve away from an incoming Eclipse and amidst profanity after
profanity, crashes head-on. An SUV strikes the pile, clogging the lane, which
ends up being the worst crash in Johannesburg tunnel history. Through the
chaos, Larry surges ahead, smiling at Mandela.
Mandela is pissed now. The three remaining cars soar back into the
heart of downtown Johannesburg, flying like big metal bullets underneath the
steady neon glow. Keanu surges ahead, but sees Larry knocking Mandela around in
his rearview mirror. Keanu slams on his breaks, disturbing Larry's course and
allowing Mandela to get free. A huge crowd is milling about up ahead. With a
litany of honks from Mandela, they part like Moses and the three speedsters
drift around the 90° turn.
The turn causes some havoc, though. With so much momentum, the
cars start spinning around, and suddenly, with Larry ahead and his car facing
the wrong direction, he starts shooting at his nearest competitor - Keanu
Reeves. Mandela tries to help, but he finally makes a mistake and gets clipped
by a passing Elantra. He spins around and ends up crashing.
Keanu and Larry are now headlight to headlight with Larry busting
out caps in Keanu's windshield. Finally, Larry whips his wheel around which
allows Keanu by, but like the Bugs Bunny-style Matadors of old, this is
merely a red cape to send him flying into danger, in this case, not an anvil,
but a Mercedes S Class, which clips over Keanu and his Mazda. Mandela stands in
disbelief. Gasoline starts dripping out, inching closer to a small fire in the
underbelly. Keanu, bloodied but otherwise unharmed, looks up to him and Paul.
"We gotta get him out of there! In thirty seconds that fire's
going to hit the nitrous and then - " before Paul can finish, the car
explodes. Nelson walks slowly towards the car, but Paul pulls him back. Larry
drives by and gives them the finger. Sirens follow him and soon he's being led
away in handcuffs as Mandela and Paul watch.
"Man, what is this bullshit?" He protests.
"You tried to kill Nelson Mandela," the cop says.
"We gotta move, bro," says Paul. Mandela is shaken up
but agrees. After all, it's a long flight back to LAX.
NOVEMBER 29 2013 LOS ANGELES 19:00 PST
The desert air is crisp and dark. A small bit of blue light
flashes near the ground and lightning streaks and crackles from its center. A
curious lizard is fried up to death. It grows more thunderous as a bubble
appears and melts the ground underneath. More blue lightning erupts, as if from
the fingers of Palpatine himself. One bolt connects with a saguaro, setting it
ablaze. The bubble dissipates and crouching on the burning ground stands Bishop,
naked and glorious, dreadlocks dangling across his shoulders. He rises to his
feet, looks around and walks off, the sandy ground, now turned to glass, being
crushed beneath his steps.
NOVEMBER 29 2013 LOS ANGELES 21:33 PST
Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela walk into a bar. No, this is not
the setup to a joke. Well, it is sort of. They grab a pair of Coronas and sit
at a private booth that is magically not taken at this very crowded upscale
L.A. bar on a Friday night. They slump down and nearly finish their brews in
one sip.
"Where do we go from here, man?" says Mandela.
"What do we have left? No clues, no nothing."
"Well, Larry did leave this mysterious ring behind at the
crime scene. It could be indicative of membership in a secret society. It's got
the Eye of Providence with a swastika in the middle there. No, this is a dead
end." Paul puts the ring on a drink tray carried by a waitress clearing
drinks. "It's got to be Braga. Only he has the connections to do this.
Plus he's had it in for me ever since I sent him upstate."
"But...wait, no one has a vendetta against - " Mandela
begins.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, may I have a word?" Paul and
Mandela look up to see Bishop, dressed in futuristic techno-clothing, huge
plasma rifles, and an ascot. An "M" is tattooed over his eye.
"You are Paul Walker and Nelson Mandela, are you not?"
"That depends - are you working for Braga? Take us to him.
We'll audition to be in his crew," Paul begins.
"No. What? Hey - where is Keanu?" Bishop asks.
"He fell into darkness," says Mandela.
"Then my mission is even more vital. You are trying to find
the one responsible for the return of apartheid. In the future, we believe it
to be this man." Bishop places a photograph on the table in front of Paul
and Mandela. It features a bearded, shark-like man screaming in one car, and
three other cars without drivers. "This photo was taken from a street race
in New Orleans - tonight."
"No, no, that can't be right. That's Michael Fassbender.
Yeah, we worked together on Hunger,"
says Paul.
"You weren't in Hunger,
man," says Mandela.
"But if I was, we would have worked together. And he is like,
the classiest dude in Hollywood, he isn't responsible for the return of
apartheid," says Paul.
"Maybe we should ask the man who knows him best. Steve
McQueen," says Mandela.
"Didn't he die like...what, thirty years before this
time?" asks Bishop.
"Not Steve McQueen the honkie - Steve McQueen the big fat
black British director," says Mandela.
"Yeah, I worked with him on Eight
Below," says Paul.
"Man, what are you snorting?" says Bishop. Mandela picks
his head up from line on the table, nose covered in white powder.
"Coke," spouts an exasperated Mandela.
"Listen, we need to find Steve McQueen, and the clocks is
ticking!" Bishop stands to leave.
"Hello?" Steve McQueen turns around. "Did someone
say my name?"
"Why is Michael Fassbender reigniting apartheid?" shouts
Bishop.
"Tell us where Braga is!" shouts Paul.
"I'll take four jaeger bombs," Mandela tells a waitress.
"And...one for yourself, sweetheart."
"I was afraid this would happen. Ever since we completed
filming 12 Years a Slave Mike's been a little confused. See,
he's a method actor, and he's gotten a little too far into some of his roles.
He's essentially combined his slave owner Epps character from my movie with his
Magneto character from the X-Men movies," Steve explains.
"That's fucked up," says Mandela after downing his
jaeger bomb.
"And then he gained actual Magneto powers!" says Steve.
"He...wait he what now?" says Paul.
"He's been holding up on a plantation outside of New
Orleans," says Steve. "But he's not going to let us anywhere near
him."
"So what do we do?" asks Bishop.
"We party!" says Lady GaGa. The men stare at her.
"What? It's a popular bar." Mandela orders another round of shots and things start getting cray cray.
GaGa makes out with Paul Walker. Mandela fires Bishop's plasma rifle in the
alleyway behind the bar. Steve McQueen quietly goes home. Everyone else ends up
drag racing in cop cars down Santa Monica Boulevard. They wake up at Paul
Walker's house.
NOVEMBER 30 2013 LOS ANGELES 8:02 PST
GaGa and Bishop are eating a gorgeous breakfast spread of French
toast, eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausage, oranges, and cranberry juice. It's a
nice greasy hangover cure.
"So what about this - " GaGa begins, "I play a
character attempting to get into the mandingo fighting business. Mandela is my
free man One-Eyed Charley adviser and you're the prized mandingo I already
have. We make him an offer to buy his third-best mandingo so ridiculous that he
has to take notice."
"I ain't no mandingo, honey," says Bishop. "Who
does Paul play?"
"Who?" GaGa asks.
"What are we talking about?" Paul Walker slumps into the
room.
"Well, this girl's best idea to get into Fassbender's fake
plantation is to disguise ourselves as people trying to get into the mandingo
fighting business," says Bishop.
"It's risky but we must take risks to preserve our
nation," says Mandela as he barfs into a potted plant. "I believe in
all of you. We must take this great undertaking if we are to succeed in the
face of evil." A prostitute walks by. "The money is on the corner,
doll." She takes it and leaves.
"I'm with the right Mandela, right?" Bishop asks.
"Yeah you are!" GaGa winks at the old man.
"Let's get our asses to New Orleans!" Paul Walker
rallies the troops and they depart.
NOVEMBER 30 2013 NEW ORLEANS 1:57 CST
A crew consisting of Paul Walker, Nelson Mandela, Lady GaGa, and
the X-Man Bishop walk down a long dirt road to an old plantation located
northwest of the City of New Orleans. Bishop is dressed in rags that conceal
two large plasma rifles. Mandela wears a faded green overcoat with a cowboy hat
slightly turned down, with sunglasses. Paul Walker wears a long grey coat and
matching pants. They both conceal plastic guns with rubber bullets. GaGa wears
whatever she wants to. Probably bubbles or meat or something. GaGa is on the
phone with someone.
"Congratulations!" she begins. "But I can't really
talk now, I'm in New Orleans," she pauses. "Trying to end
racism," she answers. "Yeah cool, you know, if you can." A black
overseer greets them at a gate.
"Hey man, this is some bullshit, I just came down for a
Saints game. Now I'm fucking enslaved, it's ridiculous."
"Don't worry, we'll - " Paul begins.
"We are mandingo trainers, and this is my time-traveling
mandingo fighter, Bishop. We wish to speak with your Master." Mandela
interrupts.
"He's back there a ways. Hey, aren't you Paul Walker?"
"Put it on the downlow, cuz," says Paul. The gang walks
past the gate and up to the steps of the luxurious white plantation mansion.
Around the plantation, African-Americans hover around with metal chains around
their necks. Out strides Michael Fassbender, replete with the thick beard and
loose fitting sweaty clothes from 12
Years a Slave as well as the purple cape and Magneto helmet from X-Men: First Class. Aside him
is actress Lupita Nyong'o, looking distressed.
"Greetings, Master Epps! We come here with intent of
purchasing one of your mandingo fighters! Perhaps not your first best, not your
second best, but surely we may look at your third best fighter. See, we are
looking to get into the mandingo game, we have Bishop here, who is - "
Mandela says.
"You're fucking Nelson Mandela," says Fassbender. His
house windows shatter as dozens of floating guns emerge and start firing. The
gang ducks behind any cover they can find - GaGa behind a hay bale, Bishop behind
a shed, and Paul and Mandela behind a donkey cart.
"Fuck! What kind of plan was that?" shouts Paul as he
tries to fire rubber bullets at Fassbender.
"This reminds me of the time I first snorted coke off a prostitutes’
boobs," says Nelson Mandela.
"What?" Paul asks with a disturbed look.
"I have a full-on erection right now!" says Mandela
amidst the firefight. Bishop emerges from the shed and showers Fassbender in
plasma. Fassbender soars through the air to avoid it, then throws a car at
Bishop, who barely dodges out of the fiery explosion that obviously ensues.
Bishop joins Paul and Mandela behind the donkey cart.
GaGa stands up and starts slingshotting chestnuts at Fassbender.
"I'm going to aim for his dick!" She screams to the boys. It's a direct
hit. Fassbender bends over in pain momentarily, but with a lift of his hand,
two huge razors emerge from the cotton fields and start spinning.
"Let's see how much you like your heads...when they're
off!" He screams the worst killing line ever. The razors start spinning
and then zoom towards our heroes. They're shit out of luck. As the razors fly
at the group, they each dart and roll out of the way. Fassbender floats towards
Paul and ensnares him in a metal chain.
"How can you side with these people? You're so weak. Just
like Keanu..." Fassbender snears.
"What?" Paul gasps.
"You didn't know how much I love Mercedes? And he screamed
like a bitch....now watch your nigger friends die-"
Just when things seem really shitty and racist, out of the sky
lands Gal Gadot, dressed as Wonder Woman, who smashes the razors and breaks
Paul's chains. She then deflects some bullets fired by Fassbender with her, I
don't know, are they adamantium bracelets? No, that can't be right. That's a
whole other comic universe. What's the strong DC Metal? Well, let's just call
them adamantium, because who cares, it's just fiction.
"Damn that girl got here fast!" says GaGa.
"I'm fucking Wonder Woman!" says Gadot as she flies
towards Fassbender. He stops her, controlling the adamantium bracelets.
"Patsey, fetch me my whip..." he tells Lupita.
"Dammit, Mike, my name is Lupita Nyong'o, what is the matter
with you?" says Lupita.
"Get me my whip, nigger!" he screams.
"Ah, hell no, I'm done," Lupita walks away.
"PATSEY!" While Fassbender is distracted, Gadot
uppercuts him so hard that he can high-five Sandra Bullock.
"Is everyone alright? We don't have a ton of time before he
falls back down," says Gadot.
"Did he say nigger? That's not really cool," says Nelson
Mandela.
"Word, cuz," says Paul Walker. They here a thud in a
field and a large cloud of dust races towards the group. A car engine starts
and Fassbender, behind the wheel of a Flip Car blasts through the group, flipping
everyone out of his way.
"Fuck," says Bishop. "How do we pursue?"
"To the barn!" Mandela yells. They all follow him to a
large, dilapidated wooden barn, where he tears the doors open. "Back in
the 60s, man, no one had cars in my neighborhood. We raced organically."
Before the gang are a team of horses.
"Alright, word. I'm gonna ride this one - it says his name is
Shadowfax, the Lord of all Horses," says Paul Walker, pointing to a sign
decreeing the horses' names. The horse he thinks is Shadowfax is jet black. The
only remaining horse is white.
"I'm not sure that's Shadowfax, man," says Bishop.
"Sure it is, cuz, grab your mount and let's ride yo,"
says Paul.
"Okay I guess I'll take the other one...Blackie," says
Bishop.
"Are you sure you want that one, Nel?" GaGa asks.
Mandela is petting a Springbok Gazelle.
"We must unite our nation," says Mandela. "Are you
sure you want that one?" GaGa mounts a full grown Canadien Moose.
"Oh yeah," she says.
"Don't worry about me," says Gadot, "I've got an
anti-magnetic invisible jet. I think. I...I forgot where I parked that thing.
I'll catch up."
"You're not the strongest one of us or anything, so I'm sure
that will be fine," mocks Bishop. Before they leave, Mandela hands Paul a
bag.
"You'll need this," he intones. "For Keanu."
The entire barn explodes, and out races Paul on
"Shadowfax," Bishop on "Blackie," Mandela on the Springbok,
and GaGa on the moose. They quickly catch up to Fassbender somehow. He flicks
them off and continues to make racial slurs.
By this time they hit downtown New Orleans. They whiz past the Superdome
on Poydras Street, manage to weave in and out of generally disinterested police
cruisers and make a hard left on to Rampart, where Mandela nearly careens into
Drew Brees, startling his gazelle. GaGa's moose stops because, c'mon, a moose
can't race like this. Blackie becomes sexually attracted to a police horse. As
Fassbender flips cars on Canal Street, he hits the nitrous and zooms away.
Paul then takes out the bag he got from Mandela, in big words,
"Mandela's Coke" is written on the side. He attaches it like a
feedbag and starts to coke out the animal. It starts running faster and faster,
as its eyes become bloodshot and crazy. Fassbender looks back in disbelief.
Finally, the horse explodes, sending Paul Walker through the air
towards Fassbender's car. Paul punches through his driverside window, punching
him in the face. As Paul tumbles on the ground, Fassbender spins out and runs
into a Lady Foot Locker. You know the one, on the corner of Canal and
Carondelet. Yeah, that shit gets smashed up. Seeing his friend in trouble,
Mandela implores Drew Brees to throw him to the scene, which he does,
impeccably and without question.
Fassbender collects himself and while still in the driver seat is
able to regain his old self.
"Holy shit...what have I done?" he puts his head in his
hands, "I must make this right -" As he is about to get out of the
car, Mandela approaches his window and holds a gun to his head.
"For the cool wind over the mountains." Mandela fires,
killing Michael Fassbender. As police begin to finally gather, GaGa and Bishop
are sitting in the back of an ambulance with those emergency blankets to keep
them warm I guess. I mean, it is New Orleans, it's like 85° out with 70%
humidity, they don't really need it. Needless to say, they start making out
with passion normally reserved for Lars von Trier films. Somewhere off in the
distance, R.
Kelly starts singing.
"You did it, son," Mandela puts his arm around a groggy
Paul Walker.
"Now that's what I call....betting on the dark horse." Paul puts on a pair of aviators.
EPILOGUE
Bishop impregnated Lady GaGa, then fled back to the future. GaGa
was initially upset, but glad for the "Time Travel Baby" theme she
could implement for her fourth studio album. That baby eventually grew up to
become Bishop, meaning that he is own father.
Despite never finding the expensive invisible jet that Warner Bros
loaned her, Gal Gadot did play Wonder Woman in a movie where an alien wearing
blue tights fought Ben Affleck. It was okay, but not nearly as good as The Fast & Furious: Tokyo Drift.
Steve McQueen became the first black man to win the Best Director
Oscar at the 2014 Academy Awards. Michael Fassbender eventually healed from the
wounds inflicted on him by Nelson Mandela. He apologized for abusing his
Magneto Powers and eventually won an MTV Movie Award for Best Kiss with Ian
McKellan. Days of Future Past was weird.
Lupita Nyong'o recovered from her time spent on the insane
Fassbender's fake plantation. She eventually authored a bestselling book based
on her real-life experience re-experiencing the delusions of a man based on
experiences on a movie set which was based on a book. She was proud of how
full-circle that was. No other legal action was taken on behalf of all of the
other African-Americans enslaved on the fake plantation.
Vin Diesel never voiced another Iron
Giant movie, but he did make
fourteen more Fast sequels. Michelle Rodriguez eventually
finally found an acting niche playing tough Latina-military types. Who knew she
had it in her?
Jordanna Brewster eventually turned to directing, and became the second woman to win a Best Director Oscar in 2032 for A Clocktwerk Orange: The Life and
Times of Miley Cyrus. It became the highest grossing film of all time.
Keanu Reeves made 47
Ronin in 2013. Each of the
four people who saw it said it was pretty good.
Brian Tee was actually in The
Wolverine, I didn't think that was too bad. For the purposes of this joke,
Larry is a fictional character.
The City of New Orleans was hit by another devastating hurricane
in 2015. The town would have faced utter ruin had not Drew Brees reinforced the
levees with gallon upon gallon of his own semen. They held.
Paul Walker died shortly after returning to Valencia, California
on his way to a charity event at 3:30 pm PST on November 30th, 2013. The world
is lesser without him.
Nelson Mandela died on December 5th, 2013 from a cocaine overdose.
He was surrounded by friends and family at the time of his passing at his
Houghton Estate. His funeral was attended by hundreds of heads of state with a
hilariously low level of security. Although officially denied, it is widely
rumoured that he requested Don
Omar to play as he lay in
state.
~The End~