The Adventures of Jake and Nora: The Hunt for Dave
Keeping it surreal for the Starfire Codes' 'Sentences' contest
Subscribers to
will likely know about Demi’s monthly “Sentences I Never Thought I would Say or Hear” contest. Simply put—Demi collects the most surreal things she heard or said during the previous month, and your job is to turn these prompts into art: a story, poem, music, etc. This month’s deadline is the end of the day today, but you should enter next month’s content yourself. It’s a mind-bending exercise, and it’s fun!I decided to do a screenplay for the first month’s contest, back in January: Reality's Breakdown: A Play in One Act. Though it was a blast to write, and I was pleased to have it recognized among that month’s winners, I have not entered since. Every month I have wanted to, but other writing priorities intruded.
Well, I have one final day to make an entry this month, and I am goin to push myself to get it done. Right now. I have no idea what is going to happen!
I am going to pick up the same story. I highly recommend reading the first installment, to get the background. (Plus, everyone says it’s pretty funny.) Here is the logline:
An unknown event has broken down the fabric of reality, turning the world into a daffy, Dadaist, Daliesque deconstruction of itself. Jake and Nora, two friends in their late 20s, have been holed up in a cabin in the woods for more than seven years, hiding from the madness.
In the first story, they lament the disappearance of their friend Dave. I think they have finally decided to brave the madness and go look for him. What’s going to happen? Even I don’t know yet. But we’re all going to find out over the next few hours…
Note: prompt sentences are in bold.
Note 2: I will use prompts from this month’s contest, but I may also use a few from some of the months I missed.
Note 3: This story uses bad language and bizarre imagery. If that’s not your bag, skip this one!
#####
INT. CABIN — DAWN
NORA drifts in and out of a fitful sleep. In her dreams, she travels back to the day when it all started. She hears her friend Dave’s voice echoing…
DAVE
“It’s not just here, Nora. The fabric of reality is breaking down everywhere. We have to get somewhere safe. I’ll drive. You keep your eyes open for weaponized bat anus.”
Nora wakes with a start. She looks over at JAKE, who is sitting at the small table. He is looking at her and smiling.
NORA
(glowering)
What.
Why are you staring at me?
JAKE
You were murmuring “Weaponized bat anus” in your sleep. For someone who doesn’t like that phrase, you sure do say it a lot.
Jake chuckles, but then realizes that Nora is not amused.
JAKE
I'm not even done with my first coffee yet. I apologize for nothing.
NORA
You know we ran out of coffee three years ago.
You’re drinking water out of an empty can of deviled ham.
JAKE
I call it slorp.
NORA
(muttering)
Oh, here we go.
JAKE
Y’know, when the world is normal again, I am gonna make friends with crows. Then I’m gonna train them to carry silver bars back to the house in exchange for slorp. Create a Corvid Slorpconomy. Then I’ll tell the all the people of the world about it. They would totes dig slorp.
NORA
Jake, stop trying to make slorp happen. It’s not going to happen.
JAKE
Isn’t that a line from a movie?
NORA
(smiling a little)
Yep, but I don’t remember now which one. “Star Wars,” I think.
JAKE
I miss movies.
NORA
(beat)
Jake, we need to talk.
Nora takes a deep breath and waits until it’s clear she has Jake’s full attention.
NORA
This year has been the longest decade of my life. It’s like time stretched and fit more time in itself. I know we’re hiding out in this cabin because the world has gone nuts. But how long do we stay here?
NORA, cont’d
(stares out the window)
It‘s weird out there, but it’s also getting weird in here. My dreams are seriously messed up now. My brain is a dark and tangled forest filled with strange trees. And creatures named Chuck.
JAKE
I need coffee before you turn my brain into a trip toy.
NORA
I’m being serious, Jake. We could at least be doing something productive. Instead, we'll just do faux-German-string-alongs and play, “What does the fox say?” all day.
Jake puts down his slorp and listens attentively. (They both fail to hear a faint voice, off in the distance, saying, Hatee hatee hatee ho.)
NORA
Do you remember last week, when I looked at the place where you chop our wood and screamed, “It looks like a birdcage inhabited by a coke-addicted parrot!
JAKE
Yeah. That was a bit over the top.
NORA
Ya think? And then a few days before that, when I yelled, “Quit using my pen to break up the toilet ice.” Remember that?
Jakes nods, soberly.
NORA
I don’t even use that pen. It hasn’t worked in two years!
(beat)
I think I’m going stir crazy.
JAKE
Yeah. Me too, kinda.
NORA
I love you, Jake. It doesn't often occur to me to say it. Probably because I'm too busy word-salading to notice. You’re the diamond goose. Your sense of humor has kept me alive. This cabin has kept us alive.
JAKE
Don’t forget the deviled ham.
NORA
(smiling weakly)
I'm fine. I'm just annoyed by repetition.
(and then, after a beat)
Actually no, I’m not fine. Someone kick the jukebox. It's skipping. We need to do something!
Jake looks out the window, thinking. The sound of cicadas buzzes from the snow-tipped branches of dayglow orange pine trees.
After a few moments, a look of determination crosses his face, and he pounds the table…
JAKE
I’ve got it!
Let’s go look for Dave.
NORA
You really think we can find him, after all this time?
JAKE
I have absolutely no idea. But you want to do something, so let’s really do something.
NORA
Really?
JAKE
Why not? You’re right—it’s getting weird up here, even for me. It’s like a mindfuck on top of a mindfuck. I mean, we don’t even know for sure what it’s like out there now. Maybe things have gotten a little better.
(beat)
Or maybe not. Either way, we need to find out. We can all sing kumbaya around the bonfire of the old world, but first we have to light this bitch.
NORA
Oh my God, is this really happening? A plan? A mission? Something new to do?
It’s The Morning of Things We Haven’t Heard In Forever!
Nora stands up.
NORA
Let’s do it!
Jake stands up.
JAKE
YES!
JAKE and NORA
(in unison)
Paradigm shift!!!
EXT. FOREST — DAWN
Jake and Nora follow a pathway down the hillside, through a heavy forest—their backpacks laden with supplies and cans of deviled ham. The sound of breezes and snow-cicadas from the higher elevation of the cabin has given way to a heavy, muffled stillness.
In the distance, a green muppet wearing a Gandhi mask peers at them from behind a tree.
NORA
What was that?
JAKE
Kermit-the-Frog in a Gandhi mask.
NORA
Kermit-the-WHAT, now?
JAKE
Kermit-the-Frog. You know, he was the muppet that sang, “Hello My Baby” and did dance routines, but only when his owner was looking. When anyone else looked, he just croaked like a regular frog.
NORA
Ohhh, THAT Kermit-the-Frog.
(beat)
I was gonna say that a muppet wearing a human mask was not on my Bingo card for today, but I have a feeling things are gonna get weirder from here.
As they round a corner, they see that the path levels off and ends in an open field at the edge of the forest. Standing just beyond the tree-line is an alpaca with marshmallows dangling from its fur.
JAKE
(to Nora)
Psst. Things just got weirder.
ALPACAMALLOW
(in an overly cutesy voice)
Helllooooooooooooo!
NORA
Hello. My name is Nora and this is my best friend Jake. We are looking for our friend Dave.
ALPACAMALLOW
(effeminiate and melodious)
Would you like a marshmallow? Go on…they’re deelllllllicious.
Alpacamallow shakes his head, wiggling the marshmallows.
NORA
That is a kind offer, sir, but we really do want to find our friend.
ALPACAMALLOW
(mildly peeved)
I’m sorry, but I cannot answer any questions until you’ve read the rules.
JAKE
Rules?
ALPACAMALLOW
Ohhhh yes! This is Fragile Pufferfish-landia, and there are rules. See for yourself.
Alpacamallow coughs up a scroll like a hairball, and drops it into Jake’s hands.
JAKE
(quietly, to Nora)
I bet it shits glitter, too.
JAKE
(after scanning the document for a few moments)
This entire page in the photo reads like Snow Crash had a stroke and started hemorrhaging Hello Kitty and vaporwave drizzled word salad.
NORA
It can’t be that bad.
JAKE
(handing the scroll to Nora)
No, seriously—I can't follow it. It's just a seething lump of blech.
NORA
(reading aloud)
RULE 1: “Mohe Be Poçtklie Popcilents.” It’s a rule.
(beat)
That has to mean something in some language.
JAKE
(shrugging)
Yeah. And I’m so glad that they made sure to tell us that Rule 1 is a rule.
NORA
(scanning further)
Rule 8: You’ll have to decline giver edopy an peroceat and see what happens. FAFO.
ALPACAMALLOW
(gleefully)
Ohhhhh yes! Alpacamallow approves of this message.
JAKE
Sure. Giver edopy an peroceat. Words to live by.
NORA
(continuing)
Rule 24: You can’t use your real eyes to roll your eyes.
JAKE
(chuckling)
Then how am I gonna look at my own pineal gland?
ALPACAMALLOW
You should take this more seriously, young Jake. Look at rule 97.
NORA
(scanning down the page)
Rule 97: Don’t go into the woods. The whole thing is full of rhizomatic bears.
(then, to Alpacamallow)
We just came from the woods and we didn’t see any.
Alpacamallow is now bleating like a goat and trying to bite one of the marshmallows dangling from his face. Jake and Nora look at each other, shrug, and start walking down into the valley. A moment later, Jake turns back.
JAKE
Hey, why is this called Fragile Pufferfish-landia?
ALPACAMALLOW
(cooing coyly)
Youuuuu’ll see.
After a few minutes of walking, the green field begins to give way to scrubby brush, and ends up on the edge of a flat desert plain covered in dinner plates. All the plates have shiny red apples on them, except for one right at the edge of the plain.
NORA
Oh my God, Jake—apples. It’s been so long.
JAKE
Uh, Nora—look down at your feet.
NORA
Eww gross. What is that? It looks like two stingrays got melded in some sort of hideous transporter accident. Or several slimy pancakes with mouths. Is it alive?
JAKE
It might be alive, it might be breathing, if you poke it with a stick, I can't guarantee you can tell its mouths from its anuses.....
NORA
Maybe we’ll just skip the apples.
JAKE
I dunno—we could use the food. When life gives you cacti, make desert drinking fountains.
NORA
What does that even mean, Jaaa…wait, what’s that?
Two egg-shaped creatures wearing greet waistcoats walk up from behind.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
I’m Tweedlediesel.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
And I’m Tweedlediddle.
TWEEDLEDIESEL and TWEEDLEDIDDLE
(in unison)
Please go stand by the stairs, so we can protect you.
NORA
What stairs?
The two egg-shaped creatures look at each other and giggle.
NORA
Excuse me—we are looking for someone, and we are hoping he is somewhere here in Fragile Pufferfish-landia.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
(laughing loudly)
You must have encountered Alpacamallow!
JAKE
We did.
(showing the scroll)
He give us a whole bunch of crazy rules.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
(laughing even louder)
He does that to everyone. Does it still have rule 132?
JAKE
(scanning down the scroll)
Rule 132: Your face is a micro-aggression.
What the heck—that’s not even a rule. It’s just a slam.
TWEEDLEDIESEL and TWEEDLEDIDDLE laugh hysterically
JAKE, cont’d
(looking further)
And what about Rule 140: Watch out for Butt Nazis.
TWEEDLEDIESEL and TWEEDLEDIDDLE instantly become very serious.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
I hate to be the one to break this to you however Butt Nazis are actually a thing.
NORA
(to Jake)
Butt Nazis don’t sound pleasant.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
(looking directly at Nora’s hands)
Nice tits, by the way.
NORA
First of all…
(looks at her hands)
To be clear, these are not tits. Second of all—gross.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Please excuse him. He’s having trouble at home.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
(to Tweedlediesel)
Shhhh…. Don’t say the quiet parts out loud. They’ll cut me open and take my expensive innards.
(to Jake and Nora)
My wife, you see…she’s… She’s planning to mine me! I assure you I am NOT full of cobalt!
TWEEDLEDIESEL
(to Tweedlediddle)
Y’know—I am glad my wife only has two breasts. Three would give me option-anxiety.
Jake and Nora look at each other, shrug, and begin to walk away. Tweedlediesel calls after them.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Also, there’s no such place as Pufferfish-anything. Alpacamallow is a dirty liar.
NORA
So then where are we?
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Assholelandia.
JAKE
That explains the stingray pancake with all the anuses.
(then, to the stingray pancake)
Excuse me, sir—In the absence of any information to the contrary, I am going to assume that you shit glitter.
NORA
Jake, be serious.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
(to Nora)
This person you are looking for—when did you last see him?
NORA
The last time was right after Poseidon cut a hole in the ocean
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Poseidon. He was a bitch and Zeus knew it.
JAKE
That doesn’t really help us.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Doesn’t it? The body gods has the pissed for thou hast done the stupid.
JAKE
What on Earth does that mea…
Suddenly, TWEEDLEDIDDLE emits an ear-piercing shriek.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
MOTHBALLS!!! RUN!!!!!
TWEEDLEDIESEL
Shit-flinging goblin crotch — it’s snowing again.
TWEEDLEDIDDLE
It’s rainsleetsnowice.
TWEEDLEDIESEL
No, it’s crunchy rocks. I was not expecting crunchy rocks!
Jake and Nora look at each other. Nothing is falling from the sky. TWEEDLEDIESEL and TWEEDLEDIDDLE sprout really long legs and go bounding into the desert, leaving nothing behind but the sound of the wind.
JAKE
Well, Assholelandia gonna Assholelandia.
NORA
(shaken)
Jake, maybe this was a mistake. Maybe the cabin wasn’t so bad after all. Everyone here—They're all like a cringey mass of seething self-flagellating fucktard energy.
(then, yelling out into the desert)
You hear that? Utter plonkers, the lot of you!
Jake hugs Nora, and then holds her gently by the shoulders.
JAKE
Nora, this place is a next-level mindfuck. The key is not to try to make sense of it. If you were going to, stop. If you were thinking, don't. If you thought you might, cut it the fuck out.
(then, after a beat)
I think we should look for a place to sleep for the night. We can start looking for Dave again tomorrow.
NORA
Don’t you mean a place to HIDE for the night?
Jake and Nora begin walking in the direction of a small bluff, with a few visible nooks that promise shelter. After some time in silence, Nora speaks.
NORA
Babe, if I was a ghost on the moors, beckoning you to join me in death, would you let me in your window?
JAKE
Yep. But I wouldn’t join you in death—I would give you a new body. And then someday, when your reciprocal meat suit has a Keanuesque epiphany that triggers a rusty spoongasm, you will know you have broken the wheel of Samsara together. You will be gruntled and you will finally be free….
NORA
Jake, I’ve already been hit on by one weirdo today…
They both laugh and walk on, as the sun dips toward the horizon.
To be continued…
I could see this being performed at a fringe festival. I would like to watch the people as they exit after the play with "WTF did we just witness?" looks on their faces 😝
OH. MY. GODDAMN you are FABULOUS at this GAME, Mr. Christopher Cook. Unbelievable.
And an image of the alpacamallow to boot. *bows her head in deep respect.