Forever Spam
Only The Spamly

(was: -=$$Make Real Money Fast!!$$=-)

Opening scene:

A Toronto park; a man and a woman sit on a bench, isolated from everyone else by trees and bushes. The look in her eyes says she's madly in love with him.

Woman: I can't remember when I had such a wonderful day.

Man: It's been good for me, too. And it's going to get better.

The man reaches down and picks up a huge box of chocolates which lays on the ground at his feet. He hands it to her.

Man: Here. Sweets for the sweet.

Woman: Oh, how thoughful!

She opens it and looks at its contents. Her expression turns to a look of horror. She throws the box aside.

Woman: How could you! You monster!

Man: You know you want it!

Woman: No! Stay away from me! Somebody help me!

She gets up and starts to run. He chases her deeper into the park.  They vanish into a clump of bushes, and we hear her scream in fear and agony as an eerie, sickening blue glow suffuses the scene. The camera cuts to the chocolate box, and as the forces of spam eerily distort it, we see the label: "Johnny  Cash"--bob@ipa.net. Then the sinister powers of spam dissolve the label, hiding the spammer's identity.

Sunrise over Toronto, followed by sunset. Familiar music.

Voiceover:
He was brought across in 1228.
Preyed on humans for their blood.
Now he wants to be mortal again.
To repay society for his sins.
To emerge from his endless, forever night.

ACT 1:

Nick's loft. As Nick paces nervously we see a newspaper scattered on the floor, as if tossed aside in anger. The main headline reads: "Slaughterhouse Strike In 38th Day; No End In Sight." The TV is on, and an announcer is giving the news.

Announcer: Talks in the slaughterhouse strike bogged down today as negotiators failed to resolve the dispute. All across North America, cattle are swelling pens as cattlemen wait for the chance to ship them to market--if the strike is ever settled--

Nick clicks off the TV.

Nick: And if they ever start shipping cow's blood again.

He goes to his refrigerator, opens it and stares into its empty vastness.

Nick: Old Mother Hubbard went to her cupboard . . .

The phone rings and he answers it.

Nick: Knight.

Schanke: Meet me at Withrow Park. We got a fresh stiff.

Nick: Any details, Schanke?

Schanke: Yeah, the toxic-waste team is already there. Looks like we got a real wacko on our hands.

Nick: Toxic waste? What is it?

Schanke: Nobody knows, but a bunch of people are puking their guts out over it. So shake loose from your magic castle and get down there, okay?

The park. Cop cars and ambulances are everywhere. We see vans and trucks labelled "Toxic Waste Emergency Crew" here and there, as well as people in protective clothing. As we watch, Nick arrives on the scene. He gets out of his Caddy and goes to Schanke, who looks disgusted.

Schanke: Man oh man oh man, have you ever smelled anything that bad?

Nick: Is this a good time to mention your dinner?

Schanke: What's wrong with souvlaki?

Nick: It depends on how you feel about garlic. And mouthwash.

Schanke: Some of us can't live on that food-free diet of yours. Hey, you feeling okay? You look bad.

Nick: I'm fine.

A figure in a protective suit walks up to them. It removes its gas mask and we see that it's Natalie. She looks weary and depressed.

Nick: You okay, Nat?

Natalie: Considering I'm not the victim, yeah, I'm okay.

Schanke: Bad?

Natalie: Grotesque.

Nick: What happened?

Natalie: The scene is such a mess that I still can't say.  I'm going to have to run a lot of tests.

Schanke: You got an ID on the victim?

Natalie: Not yet. Whatever the killer used destroyed her. Teeth, fingerprints, retinas--she's a mess.

Nick: Like an acid bath?

Natalie: Worse.

Schanke: Yeah . . . ugh. Gotta get a breath of fresh smog.

He hustles away.

Natalie: Can't blame him. It's really foul. How are you doing?

Nick: Odors don't bother me.

Natalie: I mean about--you know what.

They both look around to make sure they won't be overheard as they discuss you-know-what.

Nick: I ran out of cow's blood days ago.

Natalie: This damned strike. You could try donated blood.

Nick: No. The taste of human blood is too tempting.  I don't want to fall off the wagon.

Natalie: Well--you could get dangerous if you get too hungry.

Nick: I'll keep an eye on myself. Nat--how are *you* doing?

Natalie: This isn't what I had planned for tonight, but them's the breaks.

Natalie puts her gas mask back on and returns to the scene of the crime. As she walks away another person in protective gear approaches Nick. He holds a transparent plastic bag in his hands.

Technician: We found something, detective.

Nick peers at the bag without touching it. Through the clear bag he sees a crushed, empty box of chocolates.

In the next scene, we see Natalie in the morgue, dictating into her tape recorder.

Natalie: The remains of the victim, such as they are, suggest a young female Caucasian, average height and weight, blonde hair. Lack of rings on what may have been her finger-bones suggests she was single. Considering the amount of damage done to the victim, the killer is probably a monster of unusually vile and vicious magnitude, and should be shot on sight. Or better yet, stripped, flayed alive, strung up by his thumbs, dusted with itching powder, and left to turn slowly, slowly in the wind.

Natalie clicks off her recorder.

Natalie: You are in one bad mood, girl.

She leaves the morgue while carrying a folder of autopsy reports. It's early morning and she's obviously tired. That explains why she bumps into a passer-by outside the coroner's building. She and the man stumble, bumble, fumble and all that. He drops the package he's carrying, a big gift-wrapped box. She drops her folder, scattering papers everywhere.

Natalie: Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching--

Man: Hey. it's all right.

He helps her pick up her reports.

Man: What's all this?

Natalie: Uh--I'm just taking some work home.

Man: Autopsies?

Natalie: I'm a pathologist.

Man: Sounds interesting. Well, I have to go.

He leaves with his package. Natalie, who by now should be wary of meeting strange men, watches him go.

Natalie: Not bad, really.

We follow Natalie to her apartment. As she enters it she is greeted by a large, fluffy gray tomcat. He greets her by rubbing against her ankles. Natalie picks him up and smiles at his feline sniffing, which wrinkles his nose.

Natalie: Yeah, I know. Formaldehyde and toxic waste. Natalie's patented man-repellent. You shoulda seen the one I drove off a while ago.

Sidney meows in reply.

Natalie: Well, it's not for want of trying . . . and I'm not getting anywhere with Nick, am I?

Sidney gives an eloquently sympathetic meow.

Natalie: You're right, you can't expect much from someone who died around the same time as Robin Hood. Still--

Sidney issues a firm, yet somehow philosophical, meow.

Natalie: No, I haven't forgotten it's time for breakfast.

She goes into the kitchen and sets her folder of reports on the counter. She opens it, and idly looks through them as she opens a can of cat food. Then she notices one is missing.

Natalie: Rats!

Sidney responds with an energetic and hopeful meow.

Natalie: Just a metaphor, Sidney.

The Raven. The nightlife is in full swing as Janette makes her way through the crowd. She enters a back room, where she sits down at a computer terminal. She works it for a minute--then lets out a shriek, jumps back and looks away from the screen. Her face is drawn and ashen, as though she has just seen a crucifix. Badly shaken, she goes to the telephone and makes a call.

Janette: Nicolas? Help! It is terrible! I have been spammed!

A strange, volcanic rumbling erupts from her computer, and Janette screams in horror as a baleful blue light floods the room.

ACT 2:

Outside the Raven. Police cars, ambulances, vehicles from the toxic-waste squad are parked everywhere, their lights flashing and spinning as the authorities clean up the mess and haul away a lot of dead, chemically-disfigured bodies. Off to one side, we see Captain Stonetree interviewing Janette. Stonetree is in a confrontational condition.

Stonetree: Let's take it from the top again, until I believe you.

Janette: I have already told you everything--

Stonetree: Don't cross me, lady.

Janette looks indignant.

Janette: I would *never* do such a thing.

True--but suddenly she looks ready for a midnight snack. Fortunately for Stonetree, Nick and Natalie come to Janette's rescue.

Nick: What's the problem, captain?

Stonetree: She says she was sitting right in front of the computer when the bomb, or whatever it was, blasted the place. So why didn't it touch her?

Natalie: It seems to have been some sort of chemical weapon, captain, and those can be freakish. Dispersal patterns, air currents, mixing rates--one spot can be heavily poisoned, while the spot next to it is untouched.

Nick: And she wasn't the only uninjured person in the bar.

Natalie: It isn't unknown for toxins to disperse unevenly. That's scientific talk for "weird things happen."

Stonetree gives her and Nick a suspicious look, as though he knows he's being given a snow job but can't do anything about it. He walks off. Okay, he stomps off. Want to make something of it? Nick, Natalie and Janette look relieved.

Natalie: You're lucky you're dead, or this would have killed you. As it was--

Janette: It was still a horrible experience.

Nick: At least now we know what happened in Withrow Park.

Natalie: I'm afraid so. It couldn't be anything but spam.

Janette: But spam exists only in the computers. How can it endanger anyone?

Nick: Especially a vampire? Until now nothing has harmed us. Not Ebola, not AIDS, not bubonic plague, not even campaign promises.

Natalie: It has to do with the absolutely evil nature of spam. The evil is so pure and strong as to damage anything good, and even vampires have some good in their nature.

{glances at Janette, and adds hastily}

Nothing personal.

Janette shudders.

Janette: If what I felt was pure evil . . . I almost wonder if it is a good thing to be a vampire.

Natalie: Hey, don't go overboard! Vampires are nowhere near as evil as spammers. You'd certainly never hear a spammer wonder if what it was doing was evil.

Nick: We're missing the point. If there's a spammer out there who can unleash evil as pure as this, we have to find him before he spams again.

Janette: And when we find this vile creature . . .

Her eyes take on a yellow glow as she licks her lips in anticipation.  That transformation brings a troubled look to Nick's face.

Natalie: You okay, Nick?

Nick: Yeah, I'm fine.

Janette: It is the hunger. Your supply of cow's blood has run out, no? I have a finer vintage inside. Come with me.

Natalie looks jealous and impatient, but before she can speak Schanke joins them. He speaks loudly.

Schanke: Hey, get a whiff of that! What *is* that stink?

He's scarfed down a mess of souvlaki, and his breath smells of garlic. Nick and Janette gag; to cover for them, Natalie looks equally revolted and fans the air energetically.

Natalie: I think you're downwind of your own breath.

Janette: The air must be better inside my club. When may I re-enter it?

Natalie: It'll be a while. You might want to find a place to *spend the day.*

Schanke misses her tone, but Janette and Nick catch on. Meanwhile, we see inside the Raven. It's a disaster, but Janette's computer still works, despite the congealing slime that surrounds it. It remains hooked to the net, and on the screen we see "JOHNNY CASH -- bob@ipa.net."

 

Natalie returns home. As she enteres her apartment Sidney greets her enthusiastically, and runs back and forth between her and her answering machine. A light is flashing on it, and a voice speaks when Natalie pushes a button.

Man's voice: Natalie Lambert, right? This is "Johnny Cash." We bumped into one another yesterday, remember? Anyway I accidentally came away with one of your papers. Where can I meet you to give it back? Call me at 555-5555.

Natalie looks thoughtful for a moment. Then she picks up the phone. As she does so Sidney gives a worried, indeed alarmed, meow.

Natalie: Aw, c'mon, Sidney! What have I got to lose?

ACT 3:

The precinct station. Stonetree is conferring with Nick and Schanke. Okay, 'conferring' is a euphemism.

Stonetree: What we got is another maniac! And Toronto used to be a great little town. Nice. Quiet. No problems.

Nick: Sorry I missed that.

Schanke: Yeah, things really heated up after you got here, partner. Almost like you brought a curse with you.

Nick: Who, me?

Stonetree: Will you bozos quit clowning? We got a maniac that spams innocent people. What are we doing about it?

Nick: Well, we have that chocolate box from the park. Not many like it in town. We're trying to track its buyer.

Schanke: And we know dipwad is on the Internet. We're warning people to look out for him and his postings. I mean, information is the best defense against this scuzzball and his disinformation.

Stonetree: Not good enough. He's going to hit again, and we all know it's gonna be bad. His style is to clobber honest, innocent, unsuspecting people. He gets some cheap thrill out of destroying the good and noble.

Nick: Maybe there's a clyew here, Captain. This pattern could point us to his next victim.

 

Actually, it points us to radio station CERK, where LaCroix is preparing to go on the air with his Night Crawler show. But first, he sits down at a computer terminal to search for inspiration. He whispers to himself, carressing his words as he types away.

LaCroix: alt.evil.vicious.monstrosities . . .
alt.disgusting.crap . . .
alt.mind.numbing.garbage . . .
alt.tv.urkel . . .
What's this?

He stares at the screen in bewilderment. Then blue light flares around him. He raises his arms to shield his face as he screams in mortal agony.

 

The scene cuts to the morgue, where Grace wheels a sheet-covered body into the lab while Natalie suits up. Natalie takes a scalpel, then pulls back the sheet to reveal a badly corroded body. She gapes as she recognizes LaCroix.

Grace: What's wrong?

Natalie: Uh--oh, I just remembered. Darn it. All the blood in the emergency medical supplies is contaminated. Run down to the 7-11 and pick up a few units, okay?

Grace: Sure, Dr. Lambert.

Grace leaves. Quickly, Natalie goes to the refrigerator and takes out several transfusion bags of blood. She opens them and pours their contents into what's left of LaCroix's mouth. He swiftly heals and sits up.

LaCroix: Thanks, I needed that . . .

He recognizes where he is.

LaCroix: Dr. Lambert, I presume?

Natalie: Yes.

LaCroix: This is getting to be quite a habit with you, isn't it? Having your patients sit up?

Natalie: Well, it *does* liven up my evenings . . .

Grace returns, carrying an armload of blood bags. She looks shocked as she sees LaCroix climb off the table and look at her.

LaCroix: Take-out? You are a *most* considerate hostess, Dr. Lambert.

Grace: I--I thought you were dead! You *were* dead!

Natalie: *Damn,* I'm good!

LaCroix: Indeed.

He goes to Grace, hypnotizes her.

LaCroix: You will remember none of this.

Grace: Remember what?

Moving like a zombie, she goes to put the blood bags in the refrigerator. LaCroix pilfers one as she walks past him. He sips it as Grace leaves the lab. Seconds later Nick hurries in. He looks unhealthy.

Nick: LaCroix . . . I sensed you were dead . . .

LaCroix: I got over it. Care for a meal, Nicolas?

He offers Nick the bag. Nick shakes his head.

LaCroix: It would do you good. You look like life warmed over.

Nick: LaCroix, what happened to you?

LaCroix: I was spammed. Nicolas--I insist you drink. You are weak with hunger, and you must keep up your strength if you are to defeat this--evil.

Nick looks boggled by LaCroix's language and his intense tone.

Nick: Evil?

LaCroix: Yes, dear boy, evil. An evil so powerful it overwhelmed even me. An evil we must defeat. Yet first someone must identify it, and you are the only detective who can hope to do that. So drink up, fortify yourself for the coming battle.

Nick: I don't dare. I need all the good I can muster to take on an evil like this.

LaCroix sighs, finishes the blood, and takes off.

Nick: It's almost dawn. I have to go, too.

Natalie: To your loft. That's where *she* is spending the day, isn't it?

Nick: There's nothing between her and me any more.

Natalie sighs as he leaves.

Natalie: Yeah, right.

 

Natalie leaves the morgue and goes home. As she enters her apartment she is given an exuberant welcome by Sidney. She feeds him, and as she finishes feeding him, there's a knock at the door. Natalie answers it. It's "Johnny Cash," who hands her a paper.

"Johnny Cash": This is yours, right?

Natalie: Yeah. Thanks. How did you--

"Johnny Cash": --accidentally take one of your papers? Accidents like that involve luck--good luck.

Natalie: Yeah?

She's obviously falling under his spell. Down the hallway, however, we see Sidney emerge from the kitchen. He takes one look at "Johnny Cash," then arches his back, hisses, snarls, and shows his claws.

ACT 4:

The loft. Nick and Janette are asleep on the couch, embracing one another. Then they wake. Janette looks concerned.

Janette: It would be better for you if you fed.

Nick: Not on human blood.

Janette: But otherwise you will starve.

Nick: No.

Janette: Oh, Nicola, you are such a child!

She looks up at the skylight, sees that the sun has set. She gets up and leaves. With a sigh Nick gets up and leaves as well.

 

Nick arrives at the precinct station, where Schanke is busy at his desk.

Schanke: Hey, Mr. Cool! Who was that brunette I saw you leave with this morning?

Nick: The operator of the Raven. She needed a place to spend the day.

Schanke: And you just happened to have a place, right? That's my partner! Hey, listen, we had a break on the Withrow killing. You know that chocolate box? Well, we found that it was bought by a guy that calls himself "Johnny Cash," and no, he is most definitely *not* "The Man In Black."

Nick: The who?

Schanke: Not The Who, the Man In Black. Johnny Cash. Can't you tell the diff between rock and country? It seems this guy is swiping the good name of a renowned entertainer for his own purpose, which involves, get this--

Nick: Spam.

Schanke: And not just any spam. A chain letter. Totally illegal, completely immoral, and never mind the way he gussies it up with smooth doubletalk. Hey, it's been mathematically proven that chain letters can't work. They require the world to have an infinite number of people, each with an infinite supply of money in their pockets. No way, Jose.

Nick: Stonetree is going to spit bricks when he hears this.

Schanke: Yeah, and the bricks will come out the other end, too.

Nick: At least we have a name. And I'll bet we can tie him to the spammings at the Raven and CERK. Let's go.

Schanke: Let's get dinner first. You look like you haven't had a bite for centuries.

 

They aren't the only ones going somewhere. We see Natalie and "Johnny Cash" having an evening picnic in a park. Natalie looks happy, and is completely oblivious to the predatory glare in the creature's beady eyes. She remains in a blissful state as "Johnny Cash" drives her back to her apartment. As they get out he removes a huge, gift-wrapped box from the back seat. They go upstairs to her apartment. As they enter Sidney stands in the door, and hisses and spits at "Johnny Cash," who in turn ignores him; by now this spammer must be used to receiving the hate of perceptive people. He hands the box to Natalie.

"Johnny Cash": Here. Sweets for the sweet.

Natalie: How thoughtful!

She smiles at the gift label, then starts to unwrap it. As she does so Sidney howls and makes a prodigious leap, knocking the box from her hands. It falls to the floor and he heroically gets between it and his lady fair, meowing a desperate warning. When Natalie ignores him and reaches for the box, he takes the label in his teeth and runs out the front door with it.

Natalie: Oh, Sidney!

She starts to follow him, but "Johnny Cash" closes the door on her, trapping her in her own apartment. He hands her the box again.

"Johnny Cash": Open it.

Natalie takes the box, removes the wrappings to reveal a familiar-looking chocolate box, then sniffs.

Natalie: I don't smell chocolate--I smell . . . my God! Spam!

"Johnny Cash": OPEN IT!

Natalie: No! Help!

She drops the box and tries to escape "Johnny Cash." He opens the box and is bathed in the pernicious blue glow of spam. Smiling, he begins to mutate into a creature of unsurpassed evil.

 

We see Nick and Schanke driving down a Toronto street. They stop at a light--where Sidney suddenly leaps into the car with them.

Schanke: What the hell?

Nick: Sidney?

Schanke: How did he find us?

Nick: Would you expect anything less from a cat? What's wrong, Sidney?

Nick takes the label that Sidney still holds in his teeth. He looks alarmed, then starts driving like a bat out of . . . uh, he drives real fast.

ACT 5:

Outside Natalie's apartment. Nick, Schanke and Sidney leap out of the car. Nick hears Natalie's screams.

Nick: Schanke, take the front, I'll go around back.

Nick runs into the alley, followed by Sidney. Before he flies off, he looks to Sidney.

Nick: Don't tell anyone you saw this, okay?

Sidney nods as Nick takes to the air. Nick's leap lands him on the ledge outside Natalie's bedroom window.

Nick: Who says white men can't jump?

Nick forces the window open and goes inside. He looks around and finds himself facing a hideous, slimy, scaly, bug-eyed, gore-dripping, putrescent spammer. It emits an inhuman snarl from its slobbering, fang-packed mouth. At once Nick vamps out and attacks it. Sidney leaps through the window to join the battle, but Nick is weak with hunger, and neither of them are a match for the spammer. They fall to the floor, together, defeated--but as the spammer moves in to destroy the forces of good, we see Natalie sneak up behind it, fire in her eyes and a meat cleaver in her hand.

Natalie: Spam this, you dork! "Trusting and honest" don't mean "gullible and stupid!"

TAG:

Nick and Natalie are seated at her dinner table. She wears a slinky, low-cut evening gown (hey, us boys deserve the occasional positive visual experience) while Nick drinks red stuff from a goblet.

Natalie: Can I cook, or what?

Nick: Delicious. It isn't human blood, so I don't feel tempted to hunt humans again. And my hunger is gone. But how did you make spammer's blood taste so good?

Natalie: Hey, dinner always tastes better when you enjoy the company.

Nick: And I do. Pity that everyone will think "Johnny Cash" got away.

Natalie: We know better, don't we?

Nick: Yes . . . but . . . where did you hide the body?

Natalie gives a devastating smile.

Natalie: Let's just say I found an appropriate place.

Sidney has been sitting at her feet. Now he gets up and enters the bathroom. He steps into his litter box, uses it for its intended purpose, and pauses. He sees a hacked-up chunk of the spammer's face peering up from the kitty litter. Sidney scrapes his paw in the grit, covering the spammer's face with none-too-fresh kitty litter. Then he walks away, a contented look on his heroic face.

Fade to credits and end theme.