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  • The TOOT & Takk show?

    Will it ever return?
    Highlander: Dark Places

  • #2
    Probably not, but Tootsie did send me a PM dump of a bunch of the old stuff before he went poof. If people really want to revisit it, I can post what he sent me.

    Comment


  • #3
    Well, I just noticed that Toots has resurfaced recently (amazing what you can miss in a slow activity community like this, lol), so I'd have to make sure he's okay with it being reposted, too. The first few bits aren't very good, mostly just rehashing Kevin Smith movie lines with altered names, and a heaping pile of salt over some of the stuff that was happening back then, but the Prison stuff is amusing.

    Comment


    • #4
      Originally posted by Takk View Post
      Well, I just noticed that Toots has resurfaced recently (amazing what you can miss in a slow activity community like this, lol), so I'd have to make sure he's okay with it being reposted, too. The first few bits aren't very good, mostly just rehashing Kevin Smith movie lines with altered names, and a heaping pile of salt over some of the stuff that was happening back then, but the Prison stuff is amusing.
      Highlander: Dark Places

      Comment


      • Takk
        Takk commented
        Editing a comment
        Okay, I just posted the prison stuff. If Toot wants to post the other stuff he can, but I think it's mostly dumb.

    • #5
      Toot & Takk in the Slamma'

      OPENING CREDITS

      A lonely warden sits in his office, scribbling something on a piece of paper on a notepad.

      Wardens Wee Not

      They say the pee is cold, but the pee contains the hottest blood of all.

      Flashback to him struggling to use the lavatory.

      Return to him at his desk. He crumples up the paper and tosses it aside. He then begins writing on the next sheet.

      Peter Davis Presents

      An Andy Modeen Film

      An animated TOOTCB appears against the white background, adjusting his tie.

      The Only One There Can Be

      Pan to an animated Takk, dressed like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.

      Takk

      Takk slides over beside TOOTCB.

      IN

      Animated bars come down in front of them. They grip the bars with their hands and lament.

      Toot & Takk in the Slamma'!!!

      Cut to the opening scene.

      A red, lightning-filled sky covering a dark city. A title card reads, "Canada, 1997." We pull back to reveal a movie theatre, with a silhouette watching the projected post-apocalyptic film. The silhouette stands up and turns in profile, now resembling Hitchcock. We zoom in as the lights go up to reveal the studio executive known as Albert Tootinski, aka Toot.

      "This film is dreadful!" he shouts. "Who thought this was a good idea?"

      The filmmakers in the theatre seats slump down in their chairs. Finally, the director slowly raises his hand. Toot's eyes fill with self-righteous rage.

      "You'll never work in this town again!" he shouts, and his glasses fog over. He mutters to himself as he pulls out a handkerchief to wipe his spectacles clean. As he places them back on, he sighs slowly.

      "Maybe we can work on it a bit and bring it up to standard," suggests the screenwriter.

      Toot rolls his eyes. "Sorry, Pete, but no chance. I think we can swallow this film and go on as if it never happened. Renald!"

      Renald, Toot's personal secretary, appears beside him. "Yess, ssir?"

      Toot wipes away the spittle. "I want your opinion. Direct-to-video, TV movie, or bootleg?"

      Renald thinks for a moment, and then says, "Ssci-Fi would take it!"

      "Bootleg it is," replies Toot. "Call my limo. My meditation session is in an hour, and I do not want to be late."

      Renald looks down at the floor. "Your chauffeur took hiss own life today."

      "Yes, that could be a problem. Renald, I will be needing your car."

      "Actually," Renald wimpers, "I must be going somewhere mysself. I have a date, you ssee."

      "I'm sure he's nice, but I really must--"

      "You jusst asssume that becausse I have a sspeech impediment that I must be--"

      Toot yawns. "Whatever. You, former director: lend me your car and I won't ruin your career."

      ~

      Toot drives down an empty road in a rusty old yellow VW Beetle. He lifts a bottle of mouthwash, takes a swig, gargles, and spits it out the window. He drops the bottle into the floor, where it seeps into the floorboard.

      On the side of the road is a hitchhiker, holding a sign that reads "Need ride. Open to negotiation of terms." He is too far ahead for Toot to see at the moment.

      Toot reaches over into the passenger seat and grabs a bagel. He licks his lips in anticipation and opens his mouth to bite into it, not looking at the road ahead. Suddenly, a splash of blood hits the dirty windshield and the car is sent spinning out of control. Toot tries to regain control, but is knocked unconcious as he collides with a signpost.

      ~

      As hands drag him out of the car two hours later, Toot looks up into the light of a police officer's flashlight.

      "Have you been drinking this evening?" rang the voice from above.

      Toot opens his mouth to respond, and his breath exhales into a breathilizer that the police officer is holding.

      "Oh, this isn't good," Toot says, coughing.

      Takk sits on a bench outside of a different movie theater as the sky above him begins to look as if it is going to rain. A title card reads “Also also wik.” Takk shuffles through his pockets look for a cigarette to no avail. He sees a passerby and grabs him, beginning to shuffle through his pockets for a cigarette, again to no avail. He lets him go and shoos him away, and the man walks away in bewilderment. Takk looks up in the sky impatiently.

      “Have any cigarettes?” A voice comes from a man now sitting on the side of him.

      “God, I wish…” Takk replies without thinking twice.

      The man clears his throat and asks again while lighting up his own. “I said, have any cigarettes.”

      Takk looks at him as he blows smoke right into his face. “Just give me a damn cigarette.”

      The man smiles and hands him a cigarette. Takk quickly grabs a lighter from his pocket and lights it up before turning back to the man who know stares at him impatiently, much as he had done to the sky. Takk shakes his head and sighs, removing the cigarette to reply. “Cigarettes are bad for your health.” The man starts laughing. Takk holds his head like he has a headache. “You know, Chris, you’re a real dick when it comes to doing business.”

      “Better safe than sorry, my mother always said.”

      “Yeah, yours and about a billion other people’s mothers.”

      “I never said she was original.”

      Takk turns back to him and gives him a frustrated stare. “Are we gonna do this or what?”

      “I got the cash…”

      Takk sighs again, taking another drag off his cigarette. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… I got the stash.”

      Takk bends over and grabs a brief case from below his seat, as he rises he hears the terrifying rip of a long held gaseous release coming from the man sitting next to him. He slowly turns his head back to look at the man who know has a wad of cash out in Takk’s direction, and is presenting a grin that makes him look more handicapped than anything else. Takk takes the cash and hands over the briefcase.

      “That’s not even funny,” Takk stands up from the bench, pockets the cash, and adjusts his pants to fit better now that he was standing.

      “No, but this is,” Takk turns to look at Chris who is now holding a gun in his direction. Sounds of police sirens can be heard nearby, coming straight to his location. “Make it easy on yourself… don’t run.”

      “Everybody runs, Fletch… everybody runs.” Seeing the first cop car turning up the street in his direction Takk turns to make a run for it, quickly tripping over his untied tennis shoe and falling face first into the street. The cop car skids to a halt inches away from his head, though Takk didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. He was simply out cold.

      "...So I believe that we can come to a plea bargain," concludes District Attorney Jeff Jefferson.

      Toot stands up at the table, enfuriated. "Did I miss something here?"

      "Yes, actually," notes overpaid celebrity defense attorney Quentin Cockney. "That's what you get for showing up late."

      "Hey, who's paying who here? And as for you," he says, pointing at a smarmy Jeff, "you can shove your plea bargain! I will win this case! I am too important to lose! I know how the system works!"

      ~

      "I'm not so sure about these jurors," whispers Toot to Quentin. "That one there looks like a ragdoll. I don't want some Raggedy Ann deciding my case. And look at that one...she looks like an Elle. I once had a bad relationship with an Elle. In fact, maybe that is her! I can't tell from here..."

      Quentin holds up his hand to silence Toot. "I assure you, there's no way that this jury will convict you. Even if my brilliant legal skills fall through, I've already paid off all but one of them."

      Toot grins slyly. "So, which one didn't you pay off? A pushover, to be sure."

      "Yeah, I bet so too," snickers Quentin. "It's the one over there who sorta looks like Henry Fonda."

      ~

      "On the charge of manslaughter, we the jury find the defendant guilty."

      Toot leaps up from his chair and strangles Quentin. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you, you bafoon! Why did I ever hire some no-talent fuzzy little Ewok like you?! I'm ruined! I'm ruined!"

      Toot is quickly tasered and beaten down to the ground with police batons.

      "We have you on video making the sell, an eye witness, and medical records, you requested, indicating that you received a self inflicted concussion when attempting to flee from the scene of the crime," the DA, Jeff Jefferson, spoke quick and to the point.

      Takk sniffed sharply in an apparent disdain for the DA. "Yeah, I know."

      "So, when you look at the facts and all the evidence, what we're offering you is beyond what most would ever dream of," Jeff looked at Takk as if he were a moron... and, in this moment, rightly so.

      "I don't care... I want Chris to come down with me or no deal."

      "Chris was busted and already made a deal with us, use your intelligence and do the same thing."

      "That asshole deserves to be in prison... no deal." Takk's attorney tried to speak up, but Takk quickly shushed him. "We can fight this thing... and you know what, Jeff... Jefff... what ever you're going by now... you know what?"

      "What?"

      "We're going to win."

      ~

      Takk stands up in the court room in a frantic anger. "What the hell do you mean you find me guilty!?" Takk tries to attack Jeff but is caught by the arms and dragged out of the court room.

      Comment


      • #6
        Toot sits in a jail cell, engulfed in darkness. He lies back on the uncomfortable bed and allows his mind to drift...

        I must think of a better time than this, he thinks. I must return to a better place than this. I must remember the woman I love...Shauna.

        Toot is now in his office. The room is lit by a large fireplace in the corner, and the heat of the flames reflects the passion that fills the air. On a large sofa, labeled by an embroidery above as The Casting Couch, Toot runs his hands over her smooth body.

        “Jeannie, I want you to know how much this night means to me,” he whispers in her ear.

        She looks up into his eyes. “Mr. Tootinski, call me...Shauna.”

        Toot sensually inhales the lovely scent of her dark hair. “And call me Toot...Shauna.”

        She kisses his ear. “Okay, Toot....Shauna.”

        “Um, I actually meant, er, never mind....Shauna.”

        Jeannie....Shauna places her arms around his neck. “So, if I do this, I get the part, right?”

        Toot simply nods, and they passionately embrace.

        If only she was here right now, he thinks, shifting in the cot. But it was not meant to be...Shauna.

        Toot’s memory turns to two weeks earlier. She enters the room, crying. He rises from behind his desk and walks over to the fireplace. As she stands there with tears flowing down her lovely face, he merely shifts the ashes around with the poker.

        “How could you?” she shouts. “House of Dirt and Smog was supposed to be my picture! And you gave it to that new tramp, Jennifer!”

        Toot gives her a cold stare. “Your last two pictures didn’t perform at the box office. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to let you go. That’s the way this business works. You keep someone around until they stop bringing in the bucks, and then you trade them in for a newer model. It’s all over between us...Shauna.”

        She glares at him. “Don’t ever call me...Shauna again. You’ve lost that privilege. You can call me Miss Grey from now on. And when my career comes out of its slump, and you come crawling back to me, you can just forget it. We’re over, Tootsie.”

        Why did I let her go? Was Jennifer really that good? Wait, yeah, she was. But still, I would give anything to have...Shauna with me now. I’ll be going to the joint soon, and the only thing on my mind is...Shauna.

        The rain sprays upon the top of the prison transport bus as if from a showerhead. At least, that is what comes to Toot’s mind as he boards it. His patent leather shoes slip on the mud-covered steps, and he has to grip the metal railing to steady himself. The bus driver, whose coveralls identify him simply as “Nick”, sends angry puffs of smoke in Toot’s direction with his burrito-like cigar.

        “Do you need someone to escort you, mister convict?” he shouts.

        Toot glares at him. “If you knew who I was--”

        A Ray Ban-sporting guard standing beside the driver responds. “I know who you are. You’re the property of the state. Now get back there. Or Mjolnir,” he says, tapping on his baton, “will have to come out and play.”

        “I didn’t realize that prison guards have delusions of Norse godhood--and feel such a need to compensate for their...shortcomings,” Toot sneers as he walks past him. He soon feels a sharp jolt of pain against his shins, and he hits the muddy floor. Wincing, he rises and moves forward to look for a seat, ignoring the snickering of the guard and driver.

        As he moves down the bus aisle, he notices that all of the prisoners in the seats are sliding away from the windows to block him from sitting beside them.

        “Seat’s taken.”

        “Taken.”

        “You can’t sit here!”

        Finally, a gruff voice breaks through the sounds of the pounding rain. “You can sit here if you like.” Toot looks down to see a face that, for some reason, looks strangely familiar, as if he knew him in a former life or something. That face belongs to Takk.

        Toot sits down and extends a hand. “Name’s Tootinski, but my friends call me Toot.”

        “I said you could sit by me. I didn’t say that I’d talk to you.”

        Toot rolls his eyes. “Okay. Be that way. See if I care. I’m rich.”

        Takk’s eyes perk up. “My name’s Takk. My friends call me Takk.”

        “Takk? What’s that supposed to mean?”

        “That’s the name my mum gave me.”

        “Did you say mum?”

        “Mum’s the word.” Takk lost interest in the conversation and looked out the rain-streaked window.

        Suddenly, two bulky skinheads appear beside Toot in the aisle. “That’s our seat, boys.”

        “I don’t see your name on it,” responds Takk, giving them a cold stare.

        “Uh, Takkie, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I think we should just comply,” says Toot, cowering in fear.

        “Your friend is smart. You should listen to him,” says one of the skinheads.

        Toot’s eyes suddenly go wild. He stands up and shouts, “I’m sick and tired of that cliched line! Do you realize how many scripts come to me every month with that same lousy quip?!”

        The skinheads crack their knuckles. The red hair on Takk’s neck stands up.

        Takk rises and places his hand on Toot’s shoulder. “Hey, cool it man. I think these guys are serious. Let’s move.”

        “Weren’t you just...ah, never mind. Let’s make like a child star and disappear!”

        “That joke sucked, but I concur.”

        The duo shout, “Uhhh!” as they run back to the end of the bus. They sit down in the back seat as the bus radio sends out Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence.” They smile at each other and chuckle silently. Then they slowly lose their smiles and their faces turn grave. Then the bus pulls away, taking them to their new state-provided residence.

        They can see the looming prison complex in the distance, but Toot and Takk are too busy chatting up a storm to invest much thought into it.

        "..."

        "..."

        Okay, fine. The duo sit in awkward silence.

        Toot finally turns to Takk and says, "Don't you have anything to say?"

        "For myself or someone else?"

        Toot angrily slaps Takk on the back of the head. Takk recoils and crouches, ready to strike.

        "I don't know who you think you are, buddy boy--"

        "I certainly don't think I'm your buddy boy. But I'm sure someone will be making you their buddy boy here soon enough, Tekk."

        "Number one, that's Takk. Number two, ewww. And number three, let me finish my threat, please!"

        Toot smiles wryly. "Oh, by all means, go for it."

        Takk adjusts the collar of his shirt. "Thank you. Now, where was I?"

        "You were saying that I don't know who you think you are."

        Takk looks befuddled. "I thought I was saying that I don't know who you think you are."

        "Is that not what I just said?"

        "Yes, but it makes no sense for you to say it that way. You shoulda said, 'You don't know who I think I am.' Since it was you, you shoulda reversed it."

        "But you asked what you said! Why would I reverse everything around if I was supposed to be repeating to you what you said!"

        Takk throws his arms up in the air. "I didn't ask you to repeat what I said. I asked you to remind me of what I said. Two completely different things."

        "No they're not." Toot crosses his arms.

        "YES THEY ARE!"

        "HEY YOU TWO," shouts the prison guard at the front of the bus, "IF YOU TWO DON'T KEEP IT DOWN BACK THERE, I'M GONNA SHOVE MJOLNIR UP YOUR--"

        "As you say, sir!" Toot says with mock humility. He makes a zipping motion over his lips.

        Takk sinks in the seat, and then turns to mumble something under his breath at Toot.

        "Speak up, Takk," Toot raspily whispers to Takk. "I can't hear you."

        "I said," replies Takk, gritting his teeth, "I don't know who you think you are, but touch me again and I'll--"

        The bus jerks to a stop, and both Toot and Takk are flung forward into the aisle. They have arrived at their new home, and their troubles have only begun.

        Takk lifted himself up from the floor of the bus, knocking Toot back down as he did so. He brushed off some dirt from his sleeve as he looked down at Toot who was now reaching up, as if asking for help up. Takk slapped his hand away.

        "It took awhile for me to get up, but I did it without any help." Takk’s voice was harsh, as if he had forgotten the mood of the story. Takk looked up in bewilderment, as if he heard a voice narrating what was going on. "You hear that?"

        Toot grabbed hold of Takk’s shirt and began to lift himself up. "That…" he began as Takk slapped his hand away again, causing him to fall back to the floor of the bus. Toot looked up angrily, then reached back and lifted himself up using the seat from which they had fallen. "That is the writer… or, well… one of them."

        Takk turned and looked at him quizzically. "What?"

        "The slow one." Toot rolled his eyes and sat back down.

        "What are you doing."

        "What?"

        "Why are you sitting?"

        "Because I felt like it."

        "Well, everyone else has gotten off… and the guard looks like he’s waiting for us."

        Toot looked up and noticed that, in fact, everyone who had been sitting when they fell were, in fact, no longer on the bus. "Well that’s weird."

        "Its dark, too," Takk mentioned as he looked out the back window.

        Toot noticed that, as well. "Really weird."

        Another voice came from the front of the bus. "You two, finally awake, I see… get your asses out here, I’ve been waiting for you two forever."

        "You can’t have been waiting forever as you weren’t waiting before and you aren’t waiting now." Toot said, but only load enough for Takk to hear it all, what the guard hear was, ‘You waiting forever before now.’

        "No, I was just waiting for you, now get your ass out here." Toot and Takk quickly got of the bus, following the guard’s orders.

        "Strip down, buddy," said a guard to Takk.

        "Woah! I'm not your buddy, and especially not the kind who undresses for you!" Takk crossed his arms in defiance.

        ~

        "Cavity search, son!" said an aging guard.

        Toot gave him a cold look. "I don't know what your relationship is with your sons, but...oy!!!"

        ~

        Toot and Takk turn to each other as they are led into the cell block.

        "It can't get any worse, right?"

        "Surely not."

        They step into the cell block. The inmates rush to the bars of their cells and begin uttering wolf whistles.

        "Surely not."

        Comment


        • #7
          All I can say is that the story needs a huge disclaimer: it was written in the late 2000s, and the jokes are...the sort of jokes you might expect from the late 2000s, especially from people who started off the "show" by imitating Kevin Smith movies.
          Last edited by Tootsie Bee; 08-15-2019, 02:38 PM.
          __________________________________________________

          "Really? We are trapped in a room with a machine that can cut off my head. Now that's a longshot."
          --Connor MacLeod in Peter Bellwood's original Highlander II script

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          • #8
            The jokes did make me laugh! I feel so old.

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            • #9
              Man, those were the times...

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