Unnecessary sequels, part 2


Banjo Fett here. As you know, I’m bound by my contract (inked in Vimto) to entertain you with imaginary tales of media products that shouldn’t exist. Well I’ve had an idea for another. Huzzah, I hear you cry, as you close your web browser and leave the house. Huzzah indeed, for this time I’ve written an unnecessary sequel to everyone’s favourite male pregnancy comedy: Junior.

I’ve had some criticism insinuating that my last unnecessary sequel, Das Boot 2: Entschuldigung Herr Hitler, is just a juvenile male fantasy with two-dimensional characters and a cliched plot. And that’s why I decided to do an Arnold Schwarzenegger film this time. Here it is.

BLACK SCREEN. CAPTION: Earth 2050. FADE IN. A lone car races down a dusty highway, kicking up a shit-storm of dust in its wake. But it’s a different dusty highway from the one in Unnecessary sequels, part 1. It’s more dystopian than that one, which was more iconic, like in Westerns. The car is fitted with chainsaw-rockets and turbo-boosters. You can see them all sticking out of the car, is what I meant to say. CUT!

Inside the car, Danny the Penguin is driving like a bloody mentalist. He’s got a big cigar in his disgusting mouth. Did I mention that Danny the Penguin is a mutant? Well he is. Like in Judge Dredd comics. He keeps looking round all anxious and sweaty.

In the back seat, Arnie lies back, a grimace of pain EMBOSSED on his chops. He’s also up the stick, like in Junior 1. “DANNY!!” he cries, “Ze baby, it is coming!”

“I know that, waaaaak!” says Danny the Penguin, “We’re not gonna make it, waaaak!” MEGACUT.

Outside, about nine biker cyber-pimps from the future are racing down the highway on dystopian bikes from the future. Motorbikes, not push-bikes. Dystopian push-bikes from the future would be shit. DISSOLVE.

The lead biker is swinging a big chain, like a lasso. He’s also whoopin’ and a-hollerin’ like a Billy Ray Cyrus fan at a line-dancing contest. “I’m gonna break your achey-breaky face, Arnie!” – see what I mean about Billy Ray Cyrus? Unbelieveable. Anyway, CUT!

Back inside the car, Danny the Penguin throws a pump-action shotgun to the pregnant Arnie, who grabs it out of the air in slow-motion, even though his lady-bump is killing him. CLICK-CLACK. Arnie leans out of the window and starts pumping the shottie, unloading shells in the direction of the CYBERBIKERSUPERPIMPJUNKYSCUM. “Consider this a divorce,” he says, followed by “I eat cyberbikersuperpimpjunkyscum for breakfast. And right now I am very hungry. Oooh, he’s kicking!” – at this point he doubles over and starts clutching his bun in the oven. CUT.

Two or three bad guys have fallen off their bikes in slow-motion and rolled into ditches. But the main bugger is still laughing and pointing at Arnie. The bikers all rev their throttles even more. VROOM! And CUT, I says.

So then Danny the Penguin goes: “Oh sweet baby Jesa in a manger, they’re gaining on us Captain, I mean Arnie, waaak!” To which Arnie turns round and makes that slightly mad face he makes about a hundred times in Total Recall and says: “Use ze chainsaw rockets!”

Danny the Penguin doesn’t look too sure, but there’s no way he’d disobey the Mussells from Brussells. “Sure thing, Dolph, I mean Captain, I mean Arnie, waaak!” he yelps. He takes out a CD from the glove compartment – it’s ‘I’m Too Sexy’ by Right Said Fred, which I don’t need to link to because it’s already stored in your braincells, ready to play at any moment. Like now. Anyway, he puts the CD into the CD player and the digital readout flashes up ‘Initiate chainsaw rocket sequence?’ Danny the Penguin presses ‘play’ and the readout flashes up ‘Commencing chainsaw rocket bombardment!’ and then there’s some clanking and clunking. CUT.

The back of the car is moving about like in James Bond. A bit opens up AND THEN these proud, phallic chainsaw rockets ease out of the back of the car. It’s like watching a Transformer get a stiffy. CUT.

The evil scrotebags are leaning forward on their bikes and revving the throttles like they were pheasant’s necks. CUT.

The chainsaw rockets, which basically look like normal rockets, but with chainsaw blades running from end to end, launch in pairs, three at a time but in groups of four. There’s a chainsaw-rocket-cam viewpoint like in Robin Hood when he puts a camera on his arrows. But in this film the chainsaw rocket is flying towards the main scroteface and revving up: “NnNNNnNGGGG, NnNNnNNGGG!!” That was me being a chainsaw. Then the Scrotey McScroteburger makes a Macauley Culkin face like when he puts aftershave on in Home Alone, and the chainsaw rocket hits him right in the mush. BLAM!

So the upshot is, there’s a massive explosion, all the biker bumbag scrotes are dead, Danny the Penguin screeches the car to a halt with a handbrake turn, which makes Arnie fall backwards onto the back seat, the baby shoots out of his mangina with a ‘POP!’ and goes flying through the window, towards the explosion in slow motion.

JUST AT THAT POINT Emma Thompson appears, walking out of the explosion like the terminator cop in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. She stops suddenly, sees the baby, turns her arm into a long, liquid metal baseball glove and catches the baby. Arnie laughs, Danny the Penguin cries, the audience cheers, then Emma Thompson and Arnie run towards each other and have a hug and a kiss. And they look at the baby. Then Arnie says, “Hasta la vista… baby.”

THE END. What? It’s a short film. Not everything has to be bloody Lord of the Rings, you know.


6 Responses to “Unnecessary sequels, part 2”

  1. johnlebaptiste Says:

    Grrrr. I hate biker bumbag scrotes. I get furious just thinking about them. Now I’m itchin’ for the third sequel. This has got trilogy written all over it, like the tipp-ex penises one found and sometimes wrote all over chairs at school.

  2. Banjo Fett Says:

    There are definite themes I’m trying to explore with this series, most of them involving chainsaw rockets and dirty biker sods. I also see it as a trilogy, JLB, or ‘thrillogy’, to take a leaf out of New Line Cinema’s marketing wizards’ book.

    My final instalment will possibly be a bodice-ripping costume drama, maybe starring Russell Brand as the dashing Prince Tightjeans, ravisher of granddaughters and invader of hoo-hahs around the globe. HOT STUFF.

  3. oldrope Says:

    I am drooling over my blockbuster rental card in anticipation.

  4. johnlebaptiste Says:

    Hoo-hahs. Pacino is always going on about those isn’t he? Dirty bugger.

  5. Banjo Fett Says:

    I think he had to check into Betty Ford once for hoo-hah addiction. Actually, maybe it was that he once checked Betty Ford’s hoo-hah.

  6. johnlebaptiste Says:

    Snicker. Fnarr.

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