Work Text:
Things were a bit crazy on the street lately, Tao thought, scowling to himself. Ever since HBO purchased their rights, things on the street felt off. Different. Sesame Street that was. You know the one. Where you Come and Play, Everything's A-OK, on our way to where the air is sweet…
Three years ago, Tao had gladly packed up everything he owned and moved halfway around the world to New York City for the chance at his dream job directing one of the legacies of film: the icon that was Jim Henson. But lately, things seemed… different. Commercial. Capitalist. The storylines also seemed less educational, always plugging a product or new movie franchise, trying to squeeze in extra dollars. Yet, there was never any money for a full writing staff.
The door to his dingy office opened and Charlie, the head staff writer peeked in. “Look, I know they are short spots for the upcoming week, but we’ve had three people quit this year, and have been given no budget to hire anyone new. I’m going to have to contract out the next script because I don’t have anyone on my team who can do it.”
Tao looked up at Charlie’s frazzled face. “Huh? Yeah, sure. What’s the theme?”
Charlie scowled. “It's a cross-over to promote the new Shrek movie. Shrek 5 I think?”
“FIVE?” Tao exclaimed. He knew movies – it was his thing – and he had no idea how he had missed this. “There are five Shrek movies?”
“Technically, seven if you count the Puss in Boots movies,” Charlie stated. “Plus two TV specials - Shrek the Halls, and Scared Shrekless.”
“Fine,” Tao grumped. They may not have the budget for a new writer, but they could put something on Fiverr and contract out a couple of short scripts. “See what we get off the contract market, and find someone who can get the script back in a week.”
He was going to have to spend the next few days reading amateur scripts just so HBO could shave off a few more pennies to go into the shareholder profits.
🎬🎥
Tao studied the pile of scripts on his desk. The world may scoff at the idea of a director of children’s educational shows being somehow a technical genius (and he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was), but they didn’t understand the complexities of the camera angles that hid the puppeteers; or the multi-layered sets required when the actors had to interact with what was essentially a clump of fur on sticks and strings, with the occasional hand inside.
It was complex and technically challenging and that’s why he loved it.
📃📃📃
Scene 1
[Stage Direction: The camera pans in slowly to a dark street. Nina stands outside the shop with Cookie Monster. The two of them appear to be deep in conversation, picking up in the middle. Cookie Monster is having a heart-to-heart with Nina. ]
Cookie Monster: I can’t explain it. When the scent hits me, it's as though I’m overcome. Like I have no control over myself or my actions anymore.
[stage direction: Cookie Monster seems upset but also excited at the thought of cookies]
Nina: “You know, Cookie, we don’t have control over our feelings or what other people do around us, but you know what we do have control over?”
Cookie Monster: “Our actions.”
[Stage Direction: Cookie Monster is glum, apprehensive]
Nina: “That’s right. Our actions.”
[Stage Direction: Nina is comforting but firm]
Cookie Monster: “But why is it so hard to resist? When the scent of a fresh cookie hits me, I go into a
rut.”
Tao struck the word rut from the script. That sounded almost… sexual. Frenzy would work better.
Nina: “Well, biology is weird like that. Some people, monsters included, just respond differently to scents. And that’s ok. We control our actions and responses.”
[Stage Direction: Nina comforts Cookie Monster, camera fades to black]
Overall, it seemed like a good lesson on consent and boundaries. But it was such odd phrasing. He supposed it would depend on where the entire plot went, but something about it was tickling his brain in a weird, familiar way.
Scene 2
[Stage direction: A line of excited humans and puppets stands outside a new gingerbread house-shaped shop with the words “Bakery” in the window. A man opens the door and we see people begin to enter. Cut scene to inside where an oven is opening, and an animated scent curls from the oven and out of the window.]
Baker: This basket should do nicely, I think.
[Stage Direction: a large basket lined with checkered cloth is set up on a counter.]
Gingerbread Man: Thank you so much. That will make an excellent nest for the upcoming week. I just need to add a few things.
[Stage direction: The gingerbread man begins to add more cloth napkins to serve as blankets along with some marshmallows for cushions, and bottles of sticky syrup.]
The author seems to have lost the plot a bit here, Tao mused. Was the gingerbread man a bird? Nest seemed like a really odd voice of words.
[Stage Direction: It is dusk and Sesame Street is deserted. Cookie Monster is walking along the street by the bakery. A closed sign flashes in the window. A single curl of animated scent wafts from the cracked window and snakes over to Cookie Monster.]
Cookie Monster: Me smell cookie! Fresh cookie! Me want cookie.
[stage direction: Cookie Monster bangs on the door and pulls at the locked handle. When unable to get in, Cookie Monster finds the cracked window, forces it open and climbs inside.]
Gingerbread Man (off-screen): Cookie! Cookie! Knot my gumdrop buttons!
Cookie Monster (off-screen): Cookie scent delicious. Cookie needs icing. Eat cookie now!
Well, that seemed dark. It hardly enforced the lesson of consent that was pushed earlier. And the knot / not typo was amateur at best.
Tao pushed the script into the discarded pile. He would have to ask Charlie where, exactly, he had found these contract writers.