LAST SUPPER CLUB – CAMPBELL’S GLASS ONION SOUP
FADE IN:
EXT. SPACE – NIGHT
Rick’s Spaceship-Car-thing Zooms past the Moon – the dark side a thriving and fully developed alien civilization – the Earth in the BG, kinda brownish.
INT. RICK’S CAR - The Smith family, dressed to the nines, confer.
JERRY
I don’t know about you
guys but it seems showing
up late to such a fancy
restaurant might not go
over too well.
RICK
Well, if they were that
concerned about punctuality
they would have set up in a
strip mall in one of the
four million human population
centers on Earth and not on
some “Island” 50 million
miles from the nearest oxygen.
BETH
Well, parking shouldn’t be
a problem.
EXT. ONION ISLAND – CONTINUOUS:
Rick’s car comes to a skidding stop at a line of spaceships and such lined up to get into the prestigious venue’s parking lot, the ginormous Glass Dome surrounding Onion Island glistening in the distance, strange tentacled things swimming in its waters.
RICK
Not doing this again.
Glowering at the hot dog vendor floating beside the line, Rick produces his Portal Gun, creates a Portal, and they fly in.
INT. ONION ISLAND GLASS DOME
A Portal opens beside a huge Spaceship with the unfortunate name Flytanic, and Rick’s car pulls through and parks. The family approach ELSA WONG (maitre'd/extra dimensional therapist).
WONG
(skeptical)
Smith family, seating
for four.
SUMMER
I couldn’t pass up a meal
like this.
WONG
Was the invitation for
four not precise enough?
INSERT INVITE: “Seating for four – not Summer!”
RICK
We figured at a million
bucks a head you could
probably scrape up another
chair.
WONG
The guest list was assembled
to accommodate individual
palettes and advance
specific plot points.
MORTY
Well, I hope it includes
some dialogue for me or
I’m gonna take an Uber to
Boobworld. Finally.
WONG
(to Morty)
Your character is entirely
fleshed out. Summer risks
becoming a literary afterthought.
(to Summer)
How does that make you feel?
SUMMER
Boobworld’s sounding
pretty good.
JERRY
That would solve seating
Summer significantly.
RICK
Nice alliterating. Why we
don’t use guest writers.
BETH
So, Ms. Wong, you going to
seat us or are we hitting
that Wendy’s on Jupiter?
JERRY
Well, actually…
WONG
Fine. Seating for five.
Walk this way.
As she walks toward the ridiculous restaurant, it is revealed her legs are springs, and as she boings toward the door, she shrinks out of sight. The Family looks at each other askance.
RICK
Violating the law of
diminishing returns.
RAMADA DOOR: The door, much like the cover of the Necronomicon, opens inward, Wong admitting them while making notes on her pad.
CLOSE ON FAMILY as they stare in amazement and disgust at the room before them.
TITLES:
INT. RAMADA RESTAURANT
Back on less ridiculous legs, Wong seats them at the back and center of the room, three tables to their left, three to their right, and beyond, the kitchen in its bustling glory. The others enjoy elegant chairs, but Summer is seated on an old apple box.
At the table to their immediate left sit MARGE & HOMER SIMPSON with BART & LISA. The table to the SIMPSONS’ left, seats HANK & PEGGY HILL flanked by BOBBY & LUANNE. At the table to their left, against the wall sits a lone MAN obscured by animation.
To the Smith’s right sit PETER & LOIS GRIFFIN flanked by MEG, CHRIS & STEWIE, while to the Griffin’s right sit Futurama’s FRY & LEELA, to whose right sit KYLE, CARTMAN, STAN, & KENNY. There is acknowledgement as they enter and take their seats.
HOMER
(to Marge)
Hey, that’s the pickle guy.
PETER
I’m a pickle. Ha ha.
RICK
Yeah, great. Good to see ya.
JERRY
Who put together this guest
list, Nick at Night?
MORTY
They all know you, Rick.
RICK
That’s wonderful. I’ve bested
gods with the sheer force of my
unassailable genius. Nice being
recognized as the Pickle Guy.
WONG
Might the benefits you derived
disdaining your family’s
legitimate request for neutral
intervention be diminished by
being recognized by your peers
as “the Pickle Guy”?
RICK
Let me help you unpack that.
First off, they’re not my
peers, as gods have no peer,
the fact you’re talking about
my absurdly brilliant
transmogrification not only
into a pickle - a feat not
replicated or even attempted
by other, lesser scientific
minds-
MORTY
Understandably.
RICK
(not losing a beat)
-but from a pickle back to
a fully functioning and
remarkably brilliant man
is so easily dismissed.
You are at best a recurring
character, at first just the
impetus for me to gherkinize
myself, subsequently a walk-on
to let the writers work out
personal issues. Now look at
you, hostess in a space ball
where everybody breathes
recycled cartoon flatulence.
PETER
Heh heh, I’m a pickle.
An ear-shattering CLAP draws everyone’s attention to the kitchen where galactic culinary sensation EVILYNN LE’ NEE – 34, blonde, dark glasses, distinctively animated – addresses the assembly.
EVILYNN
So many shades of white.
(eyeing Summer)
Elsa, I feel we can
provide better seating,
even for our unintended
guests. If you would be
so kind.
Wong begrudgingly swaps Summer’s old apple box for a stage apple box. Evilynn’s disdainful expression inspires her to add a ¼-apple footrest, which puts everybody at ease. Well, but Summer.
EVILYNN
Thank you. And welcome to
Rama-da, my Cuisinetarium
in the stars.
HOMER
Dat like Ramada Inn?
HANK
He’ll be doing this all
night.
CARTMAN
More like Ramada Out.
EVILYNN
If I may continue without
further interruption.
STEWIE
Please.
Wong shoots Stewie with a Downsizer ray gun, reducing him to two inches tall, and then sticks him under a glass with an ashtray on top, to polite applause. Everybody looks back to Evilynn.
EVILYNN
You have been selected
to share an unusual and
tantalizing repast created
and prepared specifically
for each of you based upon
the precise nuance of your
individual palettes.
(to Summer)
You can have Stewie’s.
Our appetizer course is
Pom fritte Promenade, our
rightfully vaunted French
fry charcuterie platter
with straight cut, crinkle,
curly fries, and tater tots
lightly dusted with irony
and cayenne, with raunch,
honey mustard, barbecue,
teriyaki, and Heinze dipping
sauces. Bon appetite!
Clapping her hands, the pleased diners are swarmed with familiar-looking waitstaff carrying platters of delicious unhealthiness and cheesy little fast-food takeout dips. DAPHNE and VELMA brusquely drop French fry platters on the Smith table.
RICK
Well, this is elegant.
MORTY
What’s with all the
cartoon characters?
BETH
It’s like a mashup
smashing into a bunch
of other mashups.
JERRY
A Smashup.
RICK
It was supposed to be all
us from other dimensions,
then Mr. Wake-n-Bake got
all hot for traipsing over
beloved network trademarks.
GEORGE JETSON in a cowboy hat steps up to the Griffin table and offers them a platter of assorted take-out French fries.
GEORGE
Evenin’ folks.
PETER
Aren’t you George Jetson?
GEORGE
(looking around nervously)
Stetson, George Stetson.
(sotto voce)
Hanna Barbera wanted too
much to sign off.
(regular voice)
You know my wife, Jane?
JANE JETSON smiles up, hatted in fringy leather bondage gear.
The Smith family watches this eye-rollingly.
JANE
Howdy pardners. Want some
bar be que sauce with
those yummy fries?
LOIS
Jane Jet-
GEORGE
(cutting her off)
Calamity. Jane Calamity.
MEG
Wouldn’t being his wife
make you Jane Stetson?
JANE
Calamity’s my maiden name.
LOIS
(to Peter)
Ah, Jewish.
RICK
This place is a licensing
nightmare.
MORTY
Bet the animators aren’t
too happy about it.
CUT TO: Animators gleefully stomping the shit out of the writer.
RAMADA:
BENDER pushes a horribly abused drink cart to Fry and Leela’s table. The couple are surprised.
FRY
Bender?
LEELA
What are you doing here?
BENDER
Syndication residuals can’t
keep up with my addictions.
Bender BELCHES which Rick responds to BELCHINGLY, followed by Homer and Peter. There is an interlude of subtitled BELCHING.
Morty is beckoned.
BUGS BUNNY
Eh, what’s yer poison, doc?
MORTY
Poison?
BUGS BUNNY
Yeah, we got Mountain Doo,
Mr. Pimp, Doctor Pooper. Oh,
and Fresca.
RICK
Not kidding about poison.
MORTY
So, uh, what are you?
BUGS BUNNY
Ain’t it ob, silly? I’m
your sodammelier.
MEG
(steps over to Rick)
Rick Sanchez, first-time
sycophant, longtime fan.
Forgive me, but I wonder
as to your drinking. You
seem like an intellect
more attuned to LSD,
shrooms, molly. Heady stuff.
RICK
(swilling booze)
The average man takes
entheogens to try to
commune with God. What
could be more natural
than God consuming mind-
numbing sedatives when
He has to commune with
the average man? Buuuurp.
PETER
So lemme get this straight-
you think you’re a god?
Rick rolls his eyes, silently produces his Portal Gun, opens a portal, disappears into it to the amazement of no one, then taps on Peter’s shoulder from behind.
RICK
A man do that?
PETER
Sure, if he had dat
gun-thing.
Sighing, Rick hands it to Peter, who is impressed. He fires it, but instead of creating a portal, it reduces him to ash. Rick retrieves his gun and returns to his seat, grabbing his drink.
RICK
Any questions?
LOIS
Peter!
CHRIS
(shocked)
You killed him!
RICK
He killed himself. Trying
to be God. Not the first,
won’t be the last. Hopefully
the last tonight. Could you
slang me some-a that teriyaki?
Evilynn CLAPS her hands and the highly animated waitstaff retreats while everyone else returns to their seats.
EVILYNN
Our second course is a
little more sophisticated-
our exclusive coq au nug,
delicately rendered random
sections of chicken, pureed
into a dense roux, then
formed into phallic shapes,
lightly breaded, then deeply
fried in oil du canola.
Served with the same sauces
so keep your containers.
As her animated minions deliver platters of chicken nuggets the Chef continues her interminable blathering.
EVILYNN
As it is what we have
fed the public for decades,
tonight we dine on flavor
with no taste, bulk without
substance, calories devoid
of nutrition, beverage
that slakes no thirst, and
end with humble pie.
RICK
(gesturing with nug)
Buttressing your point, a
million bucks a pop for
what amounts to nothing
more than plated fast food
seems a little pricey, even
at this plagiary fest.
LISA SIMPSON – she looks askance as SHAGGY offers her some Malk.
EVILYNN
One would hope a genius
self-proclaimed such as
yourself would realize not
only that attending such a
gathering of wholly-owned
intellectual properties is
worth more than that in
bragging rights alone, but
that serving anyone but
about three people in this
room anything more complex
than a double cheeseburger
would be an exercise in
culinary futility.
RICK
Point taken.
(dipping nugget)
These are pretty tasty.
Clapping her hands, Evilynn ushers in hindwaiter JESSICA RABBIT, who slinks a covered platter over to the lone fellow against the wall. The smoke which conceals his identity is slowly erased.
EVILYNN
Our main course is a
Rama-da exclusive and
will be served to our
esteemed benefactor,
and three-dimensional
godhead, Rupert Murdoch.
As the last of the smoke is erased, revealing MURDOCH, Jessica bends low, her cleavage nearly bouncing off the table, and sets down the platter. MURDOCH clutches at her breasts but she thwarts him by removing the cover, revealing…
EVILYNN
Fricassee of Fox. Flambe’.
MURDOCH
Crikey.
As Murdoch reacts in terror and revulsion, the little fox still alive and looking at him cutely, the vile platter bursts into flame, engulfing Murdoch, Jessica stepping back duly impressed.
JESSICA
Maybe a tad too much brandy.
RICK
At last, something on the
menu I like.
DAFFY DUCK pummels Flaming Murdoch with a fire extinguisher.
DAFFY
You’re despicable.
BOB IGER, dressed as a storm trooper, ushers similarly dressed MICKY MOUSE, DONALD DUCK, and GOOFY, in and they beat Murdoch out with shovels, shoot him, and shovel him from the room.
EVILYNN
While this removes but
a single unspeakable evil
from our world, we’re still
faced with our own roles.
HOMER
Rolls?
EVILYNN
Ah, King Homer, I will
get to you in time, but
first we must address
your pretenders. Southpark,
the R-rated Simpsons with
cheaply animated obnoxious
kids and an ambivalent
moral to each story. Little
Kenny, how well I know your
plight. A voice rendered
unintelligible, saving Trey
and Matt from having to
come up with dialogue for
a main character. Economical.
Fry and Leela, Matt and
David’s three eyes forward
leading us to Idiocracy.
FRY
We just got picked up.
LEELA
About time.
FRY
And to be honest, these
nuggets are kinda dry.
Wong scowls at Fry, fingering the Downsizer and indicating his crotch. He dips a nugget in raunch, Leela mad dogging her.
EVILYNN
Family Guy. Tried so
hard to be The Simpsons
but couldn’t muster the
sheer writing majesty.
Of course, Fox saw no
problem promoting
competing idiocies. Nor
have they ever.
At their table, Stewie has expired from lack of oxygen and Peter’s ashes have been placed on his chair and given a bib.
EVILYNN
(to Hill table)
And Mike’s Hail Mary pass
when Bevis and Butthead
ran its snickering insipid
course to the ground.
Evilynn makes her way toward the Simpson’s table.
EVILYNN
Pulled thirteen seasons out
of a single joke.
(to Simpsons)
But the grandaddy of them
all, setting the course for
all to come, even live action,
this most dysfunctional of
families: The Simpsons.
RICK
(standing)
Excuse me. You miss the
credits? This is the Rick
and Morty Show.
MORTY
With a lot less Morty than
I’m personally comfortable
with.
EVILYNN
Ah, Back to the Futurama.
Rated X programming on a
kid’s network. With totally
predictable real life
blowback. I’m doing exposition,
deal with it.
RICK
It’s just not interesting.
We tend to be more action-
based. And where’s the
absurdity? This is some
personal meta-vendetta that
will ultimately only end up
making attorneys a bunch
of money debating the
limitations of Fair Use.
JERRY
And, as to dysfunctional,
every one of my immediate
family are, well, mass
murderers. Rick has killed
millions.
RICK
Billions. Literally.
JERRY
(proud)
Morty’s killed millions
himself.
MORTY
And I still haven’t even
gotten laid. Yet.
BETH
How American is that? You
can kill in your teens but
save sex for marriage.
Rick opens a Portal and a pizza delivery guy steps through hands him a pizza and then leaves after Rick pays.
EVILYNN
Excuse me, I’m trying
to get to the big reveal
here.
Wong menaces the room with the Downsizer and everybody calms themselves, sits down, and munches on their nuggets.
EVILYNN
I have been on television
for thirty-four years.
Thirty-four. I have spoken
more here tonight-
CARTMAN
That’s for sure.
Wong shrinks him but he runs off, squealing and she and some securitoons pursue the little asshole with hilarious results.
EVILYNN
-in sixteen minutes of run-
time than I have in the entire
time I’ve been entertaining
the world. Thirty-four-
(kitchen crash covers curse)
-years and not a one of you
(focusing on Marge & Homer)
even know who I am.
Marge looks at her and realizes who it is.
MARGE
Maggie?
EVILYNN
(annoyed)
Alright. One.
Removing her scarf and dark glasses, she is revealed as 34-year-old Maggie Simpson. There are gasps from writers everywhere.
EVILYNN
I would have expected
you of all people to
recognize the very names
Groening had you give me.
HOMER
Groaning?
BART
Jeeze, Dad. Keep up.
LISA
So little reverence for
the creator.
MARGE
Margaret Evelyne Lenny
Simpson.
EVILYNN
Tonight, the endless
regurgitation ends.
STAN
(puking)
Gross.
CARTMAN
(under glass)
Uh, guys. If you’re not
gonna get me outa this,
could you slide one of
those nuggs under here?
Kyle rolls his eyes and slides under a nugget.
KYLE
Here you go, Eric.
CARTMAN
Uh, would it kill you to
give me some musturd sauce?
EVILYNN
Thirty-four years on TV
and all I’m known for are
sucking sounds and falling
face first to the floor.
SUMMER
What was the point of
excluding me?
EVILYNN
I was going to pitch a
buddy project with you
and me to Adult Swim.
But you had to show up.
SUMMER
A buddy show?
EVILYNN
Yes. “Summer’s Eve.” Maybe
a little lesbo. But that
stuff plays.
SUMMER
Well, let’s not be too
hasty. Spin-offs of popular
series do bank. I think
we’d work well together.
RICK
Great. Give her top
billing and she dumps
us in the mulcher.
JERRY
The Sum Sum of all fears.
EVILYNN
Now for your just-desserts
course. As we cannot be
killed, the only way we can
be stopped is to cancel us.
The room looks on in horror. Such language.
EVILYNN
(continuous)
And as that is the new
popular way to hurl
excrement at each other,
how better than to reveal
us as we really are, not
the slick ageless versions
the world has come to know
and love, the beloved
characters as they exist
beyond animation. Within
animation. Entirely
animated. I offer for your
culinary delight, the
De-Animator!
The DE-ANIMATOR (Jeffrey Combs) steps from the kitchen, a Ghost Bustery thing on his back, and fires at the Southpark table.
The de-animation beam reveals them as their actual age – 45ish and hideously grim. Cartman also returns to full size, but his head is too soft to break the glass and gets smooshed out nicely as his ginormous body expands blobulently on the table.
DE-ANIMATOR
See them as they really
are. Mid-fortyish.
STAN-MAN
Oh my God. They killed
Kenny!
KENNY-MAN
No, actually I’m fine,
thanks.
KYLE-MAN
You bastards!
DE-ANIMATOR
Bwah ha ha ha ha!!!!
He fires his revealing beam at the Griffins, aging them twenty-four years, Dead Stewie bursting his glass and splaying on the table full sized, and shredded.
MEG
This place is worse than
Chili’s.
CHRIS
The nuggets were good, and
up to killing Dad and
shrinking Stewie, the
service was excellent.
LOIS
Well, I’m not going higher
than two stars on Yelp.
Killing your father and
little brother doesn’t make
me want to come back. Much.
Summer approaches Evilynn as the De-Animator ages the Hill family twenty-five-years to their grave dismay.
SUMMER
Ten years puts me at
twenty-seven, the perfect
age for a mashup spin-off.
Don’t think you want to
hard-pass on this, Eve.
Think of the franchise
rights. Think of the
merchandising.
PEGGY
We’re not even on the air
anymore. You’re messin’
with our retirement.
Wong stands between Summer and Evilynn, gripping the Downsizer.
WONG
Our little party crasher
Sum Sum, whose hole isn’t
up to the sum of some of
her part parts.
RICK
(pained)
Ohhhhhhh, spec scripts.
Pretty soon the whole
process is tainted and we
end up like those losers.
(indicating Hills)
LUANNE
Eat spit Pickleman!
BOBBY
Bite me, Dill Dough.
EVILYNN
Think that ship has sailed,
dear Summer. Would have been
a great show. Lift some of
the remaining talent from
this one. Alas.
MORTY
Fully fleshed out my butt.
(on cellphone)
Oh, hi, can I get an Uber
to Boobworld?
Summer knocks the Downsizer from Wong’s hand and shouts to Rick.
SUMMER
I’ll handle her. Get
that Simpson skank.
WONG
Handle me? Is it
possible that this
kind of dismissiveness
is emblematic of the
entire Smith/Sanchez
oeuvre which has led to
so much heartbreak and
ruination across so many
dimensions and streaming
platforms?
Summer smashes her with a huge frying pan.
SUMMER
Analyze this!
Wong and Summer fight brutally with extreme violence and much cartoon collateral damage. After conferring with Beth and Jerry, Rick disappears into a portal, reappearing behind the De-Animator. Tapping him on the shoulder, the De-Animator stops deanimating and turns to face Rick, who points to a Portal opened below him which he disappears into.
RICK
You were a poorly
conceived and weakly
executed foil at best.
Enjoy deanimating The
Sound of Music.
MORTY
(checking watch)
Ahh, Rick. Not that
timeless classic.
Beth and Jerry face off with Evilynn, Marge stepping up.
BETH
I’m sorry but it kind
of feels that Summer’s
character is the only
one who wasn’t a literary
afterthought.
EVILYNN
Excuse me?
JERRY
I’m sure she means among
regulars. Right honey?
MARGE
Maggie…
HOMER
Wait. That’s Maggie?
A cartoonish melee ensues ending with a STILL SHOT of the kitchen counter ala the Last Supper, Rick at the center and twelve of the best damned cartoon characters ever emulating Da Vinci’s classic but with extreme cartoon violence.
PULL BACK FROM LAST SUPPER PHOTO ON MORTY’S PHONE TO:
INT. RICK’S SPACESHIP-CAR-THING
The Family flies away from the Glass Onion Dome which Rick left with a huge hole in it, sucking everything into space behind them, a plume of wanton screaming destruction in their wake. Summer looks back, horrified. Jerry enjoys a to-go container.
RICK
They’ll be fine.
JERRY
With a little bit of
sauce, these aren’t
half-bad.
RICK
No Jerry, they’re all bad.
MORTY
So, home I guess?
RICK
Are you nuts? I got us
suites at the Boobworld
Raddison. Lemme see that pic.
STILL SHOT – LAST SUPPER MELEE
END TITLES:
PULL-BACK REVEALING RICK’S BEDROOM
Rick sits up naked in bed, the picture framed on his nightstand.
RICK
What a disturbing dream
sequence.
JESSICA RABBIT uncovers herself, fully unclad, and hands Rick a nice frosty beer. He shakes his head and drinks. She rubs his shoulders sensuously.
JESSICA
You poor, poor thing…
MORTY (OS)
(sotto voce)
I’m the god damned literary
afterthought and it’s my
fucking show.
FIN
Copyright 2023 Arturo Hammer