The Filmmaking Business - FF

Post » Sun May 30, 2010 7:04 am

My lust for writing, and social acceptance burns with a fiery passion :D. I've started to get a problem with not finishing stories, but I'm really feeling this one, and I vow to never write again if I don't complete it! Well, that's a lie... Anyway, I'm letting my last FF die, so please no bumping it up to first page. The story itself is quite obvious, so you'll see!

Booth Productions Presents...

Prologue: How Booth Productions Came To Be...

Wilkes Booth was an honest, respectable man. Most people wouldn't find that as a problem, except for the poor souls of New Reno. The citizens of that godforsaken place could only respect the rich, those in film, and those with a gun. Wilkes wasn't any of those things, for a various amount of reasons.

For one, he was a very intelligent man; as he spent the first fifteen years of his life in a library, of all places. He was born to a family of Raiders, and, not changing their ways after the birth of their child, they tried to raise him to be one of their own. Because they forced so much on him, he did what any other young rebel would; not listen. In fact, he aimed to be the exact opposite of his Raider parents. Therefore, he studied. A lot. At least sixteen hours of his day went into seclusion and books. Compared to his peers, he was nothing more than a genius. What kind of genius wanted to work in advlt, smut?

You'd think being born into a Raider lifestyle, would train him to use a weapon, but that's not how it worked. Most Raiders run around, with grenades and assault rifles. But Wilkes was trained in smaller weapons, and blunt objects. All he could really do was hit people with clubs, and his aim was terrible at best. If he had a gun, he'd just hurt himself, rather than those around him.

Finally, his Raider heritage causes more problems for Wilkes. No Raiders had money, and if they did; they were killed soon after by hit men, or family members. The only rich people in America, were either mobsters, filmmakers, or just damn lucky.

He only had a few hundred bucks to his name, and spent it all on the necessities of life. Wilkes had a steady job working at the Black Jack tables in the Desperado, and at times he'd work at Salvatore's Bar. He never considered himself a "family member" of the crime families, so he could work for all the New Reno families. He was a hard worker, and that's all they wanted from someone.

Until they blame you for loss of profit...

"Big" Jesus Mordino was a powerful man in New Reno. He was arguably, the most influential man in the city. He ran the Desperado, a large casino in the city, and he was the boss of a massive crime family. Again, arguably the strongest family. Most people would work for him, as he offered the best protection, and nothing more than the best weapons one could get their hands on. But if you did one thing wrong, it didn't even have to be your fault, you were dead to him. At first it wasn't literally, but things change quickly when Big Jesus Mordino is on your tail.

Wilkes flew through the door to the Desperado, still dressed in his white dress shirt, red bow tie, black slacks and apron. He hit the curb with a painful thunk, and instantly got his feet and back up from the door. Two bouncers came outside, both dressed in pin stripe, and fedoras. One was significantly larger than the other. Both of them held modified Tommy Guns aimed directly at Wilkes.

"You're gonna pay Big Jesus Mordino that money, and if you don't; you're dead!" The bigger bouncer yelled.

Wilkes got to his feet, and held out his hands, slowly backing up.

"Whoa, now, fellas. It's not my fault what happened in there!" Wilkes pleaded

The small bouncer sprayed the ground beneath Wilkes with bullets, and Wilkes fell to the ground, terrified.

"We don't just let someone win ten-thousand on fixed tables, then just leave, capiche? You owe Big Jesus ten grand, and you're going to pay for it," the smaller man said.

"How am I supposed to pay that much money!" Wilkes yelled, "This is crazy! It's not my fault he won that much money! Are you people crazy?"

"Not our problem," the small bouncer said, "Let's go, Donnie." He grabbed the big one's arm, and they both walked through the doors of the Desperado, shutting both doors.

Wilkes got up to his feet, and shook his head. His side hurt like Hell, but there wasn't anything he could do about it until he got the Hotel he staid in. He patted down his apron, and wiped the dirt and mud from it. Sighing, he made his way to his home.

A slight drizzle fell from the dark clouds in the night sky, and Wilkes picked up the pace so he wouldn't be soaked when he got home. As he ran for safety, he passed Golden Globes Productions, and scowled at the place because of the movies they shot there. But a small sign caught his eye, and it read:

Old camera for sale. $150.

The citizens of that godforsaken place could only respect the rich, those in film, and those with a gun. Wilkes wasn't any of those things...

A big smile came across Wilkes face, as he walked into the studios and directly into the office of the man running the place. As he stood at the desk, he pulled out two different colored casino chips. One green, one orange. One worth one-hundred, the other worth fifty.

Now, the problems came through Wilkes' head just as quickly as the answers and solutions did. He'd need a script, some hired guns, at least three actors, but he could handle the rest. He knew how to work his way around a camera, reading every book in a library; some involved filmmaking. The camera was a nice piece of technology; took quality picture, had it's own microphone, and it wasn't crank operated like some of the older models.

There had to be someone else in the world that interested in more than just smut, right? Someone could produce the film; someone besides Golden Globes anyways. After finding a producer, he could easily get actors. Maybe even a camera crew, if he was that lucky. As for the script, oh, that was a whole other story...
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Victoria Bartel
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 10:14 am

Like I have said before all your Fan Fics are the best!
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Tom Flanagan
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 3:52 pm

Thanks, Josh. But that's definitely not true. -_-
Anyone else?
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jess hughes
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 4:42 am

This is great comiden and you fan fics are alwas great also
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Thema
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 3:44 pm

I enjoyed this fan-fic alot!

More chapters please!


I really like the idea.
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Claire Vaux
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 1:04 pm

Cool :) Thanks, guys.
Chapter One will come sometime tonight.
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Andrea Pratt
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 2:25 am

Short Chapter? Anyways, the next few will involve Wilkes creating ideas, getting actors, etc... Oh, and don't expect to know what the script is anytime soon :P

Scripted Events...

Wilkes' room was filled with books. Too many to count; at least for the regular Reno citizen. Wilkes brought the book into the hotel room himself, from the library he spent his childhood. The library was a good ten miles away, so it wasn't that difficult to load the books on a wagon, and haul them back home. But his obsession was definitely getting the best of him.

The floor was covered in papers; most of them covered in drawings and writings. In the center of the floor, there was a giant spot of an unknown substance, along with the same bits splattered on the walls. The bed was perfectly clean, since Wilkes brought it in from the Library. The conditions he lived in were terrible, but he got by.

A small, round table was in the corner of the small room. A crude, tiny, wooden stool was up against the table. That was Wilkes' writing space, as terrible as it was. But, it was the only place he could right, except for the night stand next to his bed. But to Wilkes, everything had it's use. And the table was his office.

He dropped a medium-sized duffel bag on the round table, and took up half the space. Unzipping it, he revealed a bulky, silver-black camera, and some 16mm film reels. He smiled, and sat down on the small stool. He leaned over, and grabbed a blank piece of paper from the ground. He put it on the table with the camera, and reached for a worn-down pencil in a little jar.

'A script... A script.' He thought to himself, over and over again.

Resting his head on the table, and putting his arms around his head, he drifted off to a very peaceful sleep...

Exactly, to the second; eight hours later...

"That's it! Genius!" Wilkes exclaimed to himself, rapidly scribbling on his blank piece of paper.

***

Somewhere in the Desperado Casino...

A rough-looking man, clearly overweight, and sporting a hefty beard and hairy arms sat on a bar stool. A bottle of watered-down booze was in his left hand, and a cigar in his other. The cigar was hovering over an ash tray, until he pulled it up to his mouth to take in a drag.

"I'd like Wilkes Booth, to be the dealer at the table." The loyal casino patron said to a bartender at the casino.

"Y'know? Everyone seemed to like that guy. Damn shame they fired him." To which the bartender replied.

"Fired him? Why'd the bastards fire him? He was my favorite."

"He cost the casino too much money, his tables always won."

"Why do you think we liked him so much?"

The two men enjoyed a hearty laugh, until the bartender sighed, and shook his head. He continued to wash his glass, silently, until the rough-looking man asked;

"Something the matter? Why'd you get all quiet, all of a sudden?"

"No one has seen Booth for two weeks straight, now. They can't get into his room; it's barricaded with something. Everyone just assumed he'd dead in there, and lurking inside is some sort of sick creature that blocked the door off. Just showing respect for the possible dead, don't wanna anger the spirits and all. You know?"

The man took a swig from his bottle, "Can't say I do."

***

The sunlight was blinding to Wilkes. It felt like it's been days since he's last been outside, and well, that's because it was true. He looked to his hands, and clenched the large group of papers together. Some parts of the script were written on the back of used, older papers. But they were parts of the movie, nonetheless. Wilkes tucked them away in his jacket, and patted them for some good luck.

Camera? Check.
Script? Check.
Cast? No.
A Producer? Nope, unfortunately.


For the most part, he was half-way there. Up next, the hard parts...
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Rodney C
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 2:31 pm

Nice new chapter I like it.
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Kayleigh Williams
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 5:10 am

Thank ye Josh, anybody else want to comment on how it's going so far? Sure, there's only two chapters; but still.
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Elizabeth Falvey
 
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Post » Sun May 30, 2010 4:58 am

It's an interesting premise Comedian. Cannot imagine what will come of the whole film making thing. That's why I'll let you fill in the blanks. Continue with it buddy.
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Ann Church
 
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