experimental pilot for TV show with bot trained on David Lynch film scripts + 10 episodes of Twin Peaks #lynchbot
INT – DOROTHY’S BEDROOM – DAY
It’s a strange bedroom. A man named JEFFREY is sitting on a hydraulic bed intoning the last twelve hours of an irritating sound. DOROTHY is sandwiched between two dead termites. Water droplets from her thick wavy hair are bouncing down her legs.
I don’t have the money to keep you anymore. You sneaked out of the airport lounge with a doughnut.
I got suspicious of a hole and ran through it.
DOROTHY goes to the closet and takes out her special velvet robe, the one with ants in the pocket.
It’s not jazz. I’ll kill anybody if I think they can handle it.
I need a cookie for my head.
DOROTHY goes downstairs and picks up a huge quantity of coffee pots. She takes them back through the dark and begins to undulate up the stairway.
This television is producing a high electrical whine.
DOROTHY gives JEFFREY the coffee pots. JEFFREY’s pants have fallen down and a little man with a saxophone is standing on the carpet making echoing sounds. JEFFREY points to his cell and looks worried.
The bug spraying device is on the way.
DOROTHY takes back the coffee pot and fires a small clot of blood into the sink. The television pours out coffee.
Baby, I can’t go back to work without loudly fooling around.
Someone in the distance is playing a harp while breathing big drags of a cigarette. DOROTHY and JEFFREY look around. DOROTHY touches her head in horrible amusement.
It’s Friday night and you smell too good for a warning.
Don’t I know it.
I’ll pop a grease cartridge in your purse.
I’ll take cocaine until we get acquainted enough.
DOROTHY and JEFFREY go to the window. There are numerous tubes of horror parked illegally across the street. Outside a man with a propeller on his hat is listening to sweet music.
Springtime music gets in my pocket and makes me touch the tubes.
JEFFREY and DOROTHY kiss for the entire time it takes them to fall apart. Inside DOROTHY’S mouth the electrical whine stops and so does JEFFREY’S feelings.
I love you and I want to kill a man named Don.
LAURA enters the room. She walks through the darkness and takes her eyes inside to see the whites of her eyes.
DOROTHY (to LAURA)
That’s no way to look for a man.
Frantically catching his breath, JEFFREY gets into his car and drives through various sophisticated streets until he finds a baguette with brie wrapped in white paper bag. He takes the paper bag and starts screaming.
JEFFREY (screaming at all the details)
Why didn’t you just come to the damn airport, Diane? Are you kidding me? What happened to Laura?!
INT. DINER - DAY
MYSTERY MAN and DOROTHY are sitting in a booth in a diner getting their teeth disguised. On the table a shortstack of griddlecakes are uneasily coexisting with a gun.
I don’t know what to have.
A deserted grocery bag full of vomit.
I’ll have the grapefruit juice and a little girl who knows what you like.
You are a smart mouth, buddy.
The WAITRESS brings a loud hissing noise of water to the table. She is sexy and a slow version of a quotation mark.
What do you want to hurt today?
Give me a lot of bad luck and bearclaws. It’s hard on the arteries but old habits die hard.
WAITRESS (to DOROTHY)
You look beautiful, a full figure with arms and glasses.
I’m swollen and bruised all over the rainbow.
I’ll give you a kiss from the switchboard.
Take it easy. I’m a little bit concerned about your face.
The WAITRESS and DOROTHY stare at each other for some time thinking about who knows what else...
I can’t believe two people are so long-distance looking.
Can I get a beer for the road?
The WAITRESS gives DOROTHY a look like a lot of wooden steps.
I broke a small portable television a while ago and the show is playing with a weird sound. Can we go with your version?
Hell, go sleep in a warm tree.
DOROTHY and MYSTERY MAN leave with a pair of brass knuckles. A blinking red light follows their car. A psychological song plays on the jukebox.
INT. The Roadhouse - DAY
It is afternoon. Sweet music is playing at the Roadhouse and SANDY is shooting needles. The needles are going into different parts of her, near the center of the original wound. BOBBY is breathing very heavily as he sucks on her nipples. Some hot neon colours are dancing on the stage.
It’s nice to finally meet a big bag of hardware. Do you come to the Roadhouse often?
I own a part of the Roadhouse.
A part of it.
You sound like balls outstretched for questioning.
BOBBY grabs his belt and unzips his pants and takes out his electronic notebook.
I bet you didn’t expect it to look so fuckin’ much like a grilled cheese.
BOBBY puts cheese on the side of SANDY’S face and blasts her mouth with a little scream.
The police are going to find more drugs in there than you can even believe.
Believe it, baby.
BOBBY flies into a door. SANDY kicks up the dirt with her little pink shoe. In the corner, a dog growls and cowers like a small boy with his fingers broken.
That dog looks like a motherfucker.
FRANK enters the room. FRANK is totally oblivious and is crushing a 83 thousand dollar watch in his hand.
Oh look, a corpse in the distance.
SANDY runs off to a member of the FBI with a vintage necklace in her suitcase.
She loves me like a world of junk.
FRANK (taking out a pile)
Before I install this haemorrhage, we have something to talk
Is it about Bobby?
Stupid, it is Detective Gordon, the ugly bruise on my old vacation spot.
I didn’t mean to hurt his ass but I found a strange meaning in it.
Like a bleeding meat glaze?
Like a crowd of people are laughing at some private joke, and a magician shuts the door on their hands.
Do you know what, Bobby?
Yes, you boring record?
I hate you and I don’t have a heart.
FRANK puts BOBBY’S head in a state of shock. BOBBY falls onto the couch and dies laughing. FRANK looks around. He is full of remorse and dirty clothes.
We take so much trouble in this world.
FRANK takes out a pipe and begins polishing his face with tremendous emotion.
EXT. - DAY
It is morning. Dark cells move in front of the building. DEPUTY ANDY takes a big deep drag of her sexuality.
Mornings are some strange memories.
DEPUTY ANDY is named after the Maitre D at an uptown diner. Her hair is the colour of a brown paper bag. JEFFREY runs up to her, screaming.
I’m fascinated by a troubling thought!
Let me get my terrycloth robe.
We have to catch up with the greasy girl. Laura’s sick and her bad habits are being violently reported.
I will decide to see you tomorrow, or maybe sometime next week.
Don’t hold me, I’m a propeller. I’ll just turn and walk away.
DEPUTY ANDY goes up to the house, where a MOUNTING CRIME WAVE opens the door. DEPUTY ANDY is murdered instantly and drops her legs to the ground. JEFFREY screams and dissolves in a state of perfectly still crying.
Are we friends?
Bloody saliva is dripping from DEPUTY ANDY’s mouth and her legs are real estate. It’s a horrible sight. JEFFREY walks away screaming with music in his pocket. The MOUNTING CRIME WAVE turns on the television.
EXT. Day - Outside the DINER
RACCOONS are sitting in the darkness, sucking a couple of Brewskis. They are drunk and looking for trouble. One of them carries a knuckle duster and the other a knife. There’s a furnace of course, and a box of chocolate creams. One of the RACCOONS has the dead man’s shoes.
AGENT COOPER arrives and does all the talking. He’s an agent from the federal bureau of investigation of disturbed violations.
AGENT COOPER (to the RACCOONS)
Where are the highlights?
The RACCOONS are hitting a ball on a string, not playing the trumpet. They don’t say anything that might be the truth.
Won’t you tell me where he is?
One of the RACCOONS takes out a bloody shoe and moves toward the kitchen.
I think I need a couple of stiff scotches.
FADE OUT TO:
It is afternoon at the Roadhouse. FRANK is looking for his shoes and someone to murder.
FRANK (to the MIDGET)
How was I supposed to see what was on the blackboard? Now we’re in the shit room.
I’m here in my yellow sports coat, ready to fight.
I’m not talking about the crazy water show. This is business. It’s time to see what they think about taxis.
I’m so interested.
SANDY runs in with a semi-rig and the smell of a silencer attached.
I almost forgot my baby.
SANDY shoots up and quickly punches into FRANK’s face. FRANK’s eyes are angry and cold, despair jitterbugging from his pocket.
Silence is a heavenly sound. I recommend it and keeping a diary.
SANDY floats above the floor with a grin. She slugs a huge quantity of blue smoke. Smoke is pouring out of her mouth and fills the room and actually hits the moon.
Nobody does it for me anymore.
JEFFREY appears, wearing only white underpants. He looks dazed and is carrying a gun.
There’s a hole in my opinions and I can’t stand up.
You have dried vomit on your sleeve.
You have the face of a bitch.
This is so much better than the last time you solved a mystery.
SANDY makes an inquest into her purse and takes out a silver dollar. She gives half to the bucket. Music swells.
I don’t even remember getting hit.
Let’s hop to it!
SANDY and JEFFREY are dancing on the carpet. SANDY gets high by laughing with her eyes open. FRANK goes over to them and paints a countryside picture: it’s weeds on top of a pile of junk. His teeth are crooked insects in his mouth.
I’ll kill anybody in the bathroom and I’ll be crying all the way there.
JEFFREY takes a bite of griddlecake and kicks a football to the corner. The dog barks music in the air like a wet night.
I think your dog is on the rocks.
There’s a horrible sound again. FRANK runs into the bathroom and begins frantically looking at his face in the mirror. He takes out the double doors with very fast dancing, and falls into the sink. Water pours out of FRANK’s nose, which is running with blood.
JEFFREY and SANDY
Fade to black!
JEFFREY pops a bunch of zinc and looks happy. SANDY is brushing her hair like a redhead.
Let’s go. I have a pillow.
JEFFREY and SANDY leave together. JEFFREY has the happy face of a fireman with cocaine in his kit bag.
INT. DOROTHY’S BEDROOM - DAY
There’s a cold tired seepage around the apartment. The bug sprayer is jammed and the termites are getting very close. DOROTHY and the MYSTERY MAN are sitting on DOROTY’S head. An intense reverberating sound is heard.
I don’t know about you but I’m inventing a noiseless dustbuster.
[CLOSEUP of a termite walking past DOROTHY’S shoe.]
The MYSTERY MAN looks sick. His eyes are glazed with jelly.
I feel ‘em again. The mounting horror. It’s like bacon coming out of a nozzle.
I don’t want you to overdo things. Let’s have a nice dinner at least.
Next you’ll want me to eat a popsicle, or fingernails.
The MYSTERY MAN goes to the window and looks across at the tubes of horror. Forlorn versions of his forehead are lining his face and falling into his mouth.
You’re a frightening man.
Life’s a hot water glass with a slice of pie.
Why is it always a funeral?
It’s a phone call from a department store.
The MYSTERY MAN’S phone rings. It’s LAURA in a coma in the department store.
MYSTERY MAN (shouting over the phone)
I’ll be right over! I’ll bring the tape!
The MYSTERY MAN disappears into the phone and dials everyone else. DOROTHY touches her face with a little wine from a coconut and begins to cry the living names of the people on her bus route. Outside, a dog barks and the holy spirit comes out of a yellow car and gets a small coffee to go.
INT. CAFÉ – DAY
ESTABLISHING SHOT of the floor.
DIANE is enjoying a big piece of cherry pie. She is wearing rubber for protection and has an uncertain insecurity about her ass.
DIANE (to the WAITRESS)
There’s a snake on the counter, behind your bowl of fruit punch and the dead fish.
I’ll get the crusty old regulars to see to it.
The WAITRESS goes behind the counter and begins to make a monstrous huckleberry assault. She is full of fear.
I need to rest. Thinking about my husband is never exactly fun.
The WAITRESS makes a pie full of fear and hands it to DIANE.
I’ll have the fish.
The DEAD FISH is actually a stash box disguised as a Bulgarian restaurant and is also a man named James. It is enough to say that the psychological impact of this is less than ideal.
DIANE (to the WAITRESS)
Would you characterise your current relationship as operatic, or single?
AGENT COOPER comes running in, followed by RACCOONS.
AGENT COOPER (screaming)
Don’t touch that!
All the good things in the room go blowing around with the speed of a dusty translator. RACCOONS hop on the counter. They are eating pie.
What the hell happened.
The stash box is full of cocaine and it’s toxicology night.
DIANE (to AGENT COOPER)
Will you go to the dancefloor with me?
Some MUSIC plays listlessly with a downcast amazement. AGENT COOPER and DIANE dance.
AGENT COOPER (to DIANE)
I’m having a bloody thought about you.
Your behaviour is like a reeling argument.
I’m undressing for protection.
You’re alarmingly hard for a gent from the FBI.
AGENT COOPER and DIANE hurriedly begin to undress. The door flies open. It’s FRANK, wearing only white underpants and whatever they gave him at the morgue. He is covered in blood and bad instinct and has a galvanized metal bucket full of rocks.
AGENT COOPER (to FRANK)
You better have used the handicapped access ramp!
And I rubbed it for a long time!
FRANK begins throwing cashews, imitating a small bellhop. JEFFREY looks around, confused.
It’s going to be a very reasonable funeral.
You want a peek in my safety deposit box?
JEFFREY takes out a silver cigarette box and fires it up with a gesture. The sink is full of toxological tests for drug use.
Without warning, somebody shoots the floor. Bloody things settle on the tables and counter.
Shit out a window, you godforsaken berg!
It’s chicken tonight in heaven!
Body language pours out of JEFFREY and everyone turns toward the door. FRANK runs around hunting for rubber buffalo.
My brother will have to reveal a little teary secret now.
Is it sexual intercourse with a drawer full of envelopes?
My husband is the reason for manslaughter!
FRANK sees a red neon sign that reads: ‘It’s a beautiful day for protection.’ He takes out a bad check. JEFFREY presses the intercom on the wall and nearly knocks over a chair.
Diane. A little man is hiding in the corner!
It’s my old knucklehead of a husband!
DIANE’s HUSBAND skips across the living room with the happy gag of a newborn infant on vacation and puts a hole in FRANK’s head. DIANE shimmers all around her with intensive peaks like a newborn infant of the night.
Invisible shoes dance expertly into view and execute a few nice movements around the room. DIANE’S HUSBAND is suddenly knocked over.
DIANE’S HUSBAND (to the WAITRESS)
You’re a younger woman with a granite bouffant hairdo, can we have a sexual embrace of lengthy duration?
WAITRESS (with a beige sheer)
Go sit on digestive acids.
EXT. NIGHT – PARKING LOT
A cemetary Parking Lot surrounds a slightly seedy honky tonk. There’s a blanket of turkeys coming through the corn. The HOMECOMING QUEEN is a little worried about the end of the fair.
Without signing the contract, I can’t go.
A country road table is set up behind the station where a little man stops chopping wood to get a small bag of cotton balls. DIANE is cradling a log and drinking.
Slumber, and the hawk gets acquainted with your blood.
My brother will have a criminal record player now.
DIANE begins crying like a little brown mouse.
Shame is a terrible thing to waste.
Cries filter into the air like wet flannel pyjamas. A growl startles a bird which takes flight. EVERYONE rushes into meaningful view.
Everyone please take a seat. There’s meatloaf with pimentos and potato chips and newly mystified gossip.
JEFFREY is lugging a customised white powder. He is covered with industrial strength grime.
Trembling has whittled this script into a disturbing accident.
An accident waiting to be released from intensive care.
We knew that when the mill blew up!
The HOMECOMING QUEEN and JEFFREY begin to dance. The HOMECOMING QUEEN hurts JEFFREY with the large hollow knot of her feigned indifference.
Somebody else is a transcript. Like a blue background from a local bartender’s death.
DIANE (to the HOMECOMING QUEEN)
Take off my favourite shirt and leather jacket!
AGENT COOPER is coming towards the parking lot with a pair of bloody shoes.
AGENT COOPER (to JEFFREY)
I got these from the waitress.
This means something. She was supposed to leave them there.
Your husband’s hurt a bit.
Hell, I noticed. Nothing’s perfect. Life’s not a hydraulic bed or a virgin white powder.
It’s sucker punch or sparkling cider!
DIANE, JEFFREY, the HOMECOMING QUEEN and AGENT COOPER look quietly at all the books and hymnals surrounding the parking lot until tomorrow slams a heavy door.
INT. DAY – the ROADHOUSE
The ROADHOUSE of course never had changed. A neon flashing pours a small bar with a brass rail. Inside a midget is dancing with a hammer.
I’m ready to fight again.
The MIDGET picks up a bogus vase from the table. The whine of a motorcycle is reflected in his eyes.
MIDGET (to everyone)
Is hell a porcupine with a gun? Let’s see.
EXT. NIGHT – JEFFREY’s car
JEFFREY and SANDY are sitting in JEFFREY’s car.
That old fashioned woman looks exactly like Laura.
She was murdered last year. She died when I was just about to call you.
Call me soon.
JEFFREY’s mouth is a circle of candies as he whispers.
Are you in love with me?
There’s formaldehyde in my ear.
Say anything to tell me that I can’t have a chance.
Let’s make an elegant generic living together.
We can start by testing the hydraulics together.
JEFFREY and SANDY speed away to the house. In the back of the car, the Holy Spirit is quietly following with medication for breathing.
INT. DAY – SANDY’s house
It is some time later on a rusticated mildewed farm. SANDY and JEFFREY sit on porch rockers. JEFFREY is whittling a steak.
I’m so happy to make your favourite relationship.
I’m happy to date a small dead steak.
You have the cutest nose in the hospital. Let’s try not to upset it, or die on the counter.
The MYSTERY MAN appears. He is a distinguished character of about sixty feet.
I’ve been in prison since breakfast.
Is it temperate at night?
MYSTERY MAN (tenderly)
We will never die again.
The MYSTERY MAN flies out of the frame and we hear a soft scream. SANDY and JEFFREY walk slowly, slipping away from the world. JEFFREY is waking up souls that give life to the mind and body. He screams and the tubes stop breathing. It is night.
INT. NIGHT – DOROTHY’S ROOM
JEFFREY is wearing a mismatched Samsonite suit and approximating a pair of headphones. He is full of music.
DOROTHY is in an agonizing, sympathetic pain.
Is that the rainbow you were looking for?
All I wanted was a man with a huge wound to put things in.
Get ready for sadness and nostalgic despair.
A small glass of bourbon falls on JEFFREY and smothers him with kisses. Maple syrup pours out of his eyes.
I’d love a cigarette. You?
Smoking is fine.
So are minors.
JEFFREY and DOROTHY ardently decide to tell a particular story about the night.
Words won’t bring you anything much.
It’s like making love to a hideous sight.
Sex is an uneven blue ribbon twisted around the headboard of a woman with no arms.
Outside, the MIDGET is dancing with a gun. JEFFERY takes a walk over to the sofa. The termites are looking. The special music comes dripping out of his pocket.
It is a surprisingly appropriate funeral.
I haven’t seen any robins.
JEFFREY leaves DOROTHY and walks out the door. The special sound follows him down the street. They take turns picking up the tab.