The Lies of Sherlock [Fanedit]

artboard-copy-63

https://ifdb.fanedit.org/the-lies-of-sherlock/

An edit combining the final two episodes of series four, “The Lying Detective” and “The Final Problem”

It’s not a game anymore. Sherlock, John and Mycroft engage of an emotional battle of wits not just with Sherlock’s maniacal and manipulative sister Euros, but with one another as well. From the pitfalls of drug addiction to the boasts of seemingly untouchable media darlings to three heart-wrenching words on the end of a phone conversation. The lies mount up, leading to our heroes reaching a moment of definitive truth. Context is everything.

Special Thanks to FE.org members theryaney, and jswert123456 for feedback and cover art.
Advertisements

…And Then I Smile (Original Story)

…AND THEN I SMILE


“Happy birthday?” was the first question she asked.

The security guards were not keen on answering.

“Give her the badge” said one guard to the other. He did as he was told, and provided her with one, she meekly pinned it on her shirt. They then proceeded to shove her through the door into an ice-cold room.

The lights, dim as they were, lit up, and she took a look at her surroundings. She looked over at the row of women who lined the room with uneasy curiosity.

Surely they were capable of conversation she thought.

She approached the slender, cranky woman on her right, she was reading a newspaper. One of the few that hadn’t been fed to the dogs outside the compound yet.

She wondered what she would say to her.

“I’m 17” she said, without thinking too hard about which words were appropriate to say.

This probably sounded better off in her head.

“24” the woman said, rasining her head to meet the naive girl face to face.

“Happy Birthday?” she asked.

“Try asking someone else” said the woman.

“Who else is there?” asked the girl, leaning over and waving at the row of ladies in front of her. Some had the courtesy, or naivety, to wave back.

“Is this your first day?” the woman replied.

“It’ll be my only day” the girl responded.

“That optimistic are you?” the woman spoke again, trying to hold back a smirk.

She walked over to a vending machine pearched in the center of the room, she fiddled for some loose change, found some, inserted the change into the slot, and made her selection.

A can was slowly pushed out of it’s slot and deposited down a cool grey shaf, coming out the other side into the grip of the woman. She downed the contents of the can almost in one gulp, then offered the remainder of the contents to the new girl.

She politely declined.

It was now the woman’s turn to ask.

“Happy birthday?”

“I’d rather ask that question thanks. It’s important that I ask it. That’s what they said upstairs anyway. Helps me be more of a people person they say”

“Suit yourself” the woman replied.

Curiosity soon got the better of even her though.

“Suppose somebody answers…then what?”

“…And then I smile” the girl replied.

Most of the women had all been staring at something to the upper right of them, a computerized lock nearest to where the door was situated.

The red lights came on

The woman looked at the labelling.

“Grand Day Out…pfft, who comes up with these labels? Imagine someone asking you if you had a grand day out, and you’d have to reply that you took a swing of this muck…you sure you don’t want it? Grand Day Out?”

“What would happen if I said yes?” the girl responded. What then?” the girl replied.

“Same as you I imagine. I’d smile”

“Quiet, the pair of you, someone’s coming” another woman uttered, trying to simmer the pair’s jaunty behaviour.

The door opened and the security guards poured in, they were accompanied by a short, plump black man wearing a blue shirt and a slightly crooked tie.

“21” he said.

A hand was raised. The guards walked along the row of women and pinpointed the source of the outstretched hand, bringing one female towards the man.

“Manic Monday?” she asked.

“It’s a Thursday, but every day for someone up there feels like the start of a working week, I could do with a refreshing reminder of the days I’ve already put behind”

Without hesitation, he groped her, then pulled back.

“Flat” he said, menace in his voice.

Without saying another word, he gestured to the guards to dispose of the damaged goods. They obeyed and took out the female with a heavy round of firepower from their weapons.

The row of women shook with fear, some crying and finding comfort in one another’s arms. The guards looked upon this and began barking orders at them.

“Don’t mingle, this is’nt a pick’n’mix, stay in your rows. All of you” they instructed, before slowly backing slowly towards the door.

The man was determined not to leave, he took out another number

“17”

The girl visibly shook. The woman stared at her with sollemn pity. In the breifest of moments exchanged between them, she had taken quite a shine to her.

“Oh you poor thing..you’re speechless aren’t you? Can’t imagine you’ll find your voice now…grand day out?”

The girl wept, but found the strength to answerr

“I won a ticket to get in this place…solid gold price, I played in the parks ’till I was 14, then spent the next two years conducting tours for the other kids. Made extra cash, lived in luxery. I was labelled a breath of fresh air. A refreshment. All that was left was the branding”

The man stared hard at her, his eyes charged with ill intent.

“Speak to me” he said.

The girl looked at the woman, her lips quivering, unsure of what to say.

“Go on, do what you came here to do” the woman said, “We understand branding, make the most of your day if you wish it to be your only one”

The guards raised their weapons.

The girl asked the question

“Ha-Happy Birthday?” she said.

The man grinned.

“I’ve always liked that song…Happy Birthday…to you, Happy Birthday…to you, Happy Birthday…Mr. President”

His fingers nimbly touched the base of the girl’s chin, he looked at her badge, it was facing the wrong way on her shirt, he turned it around.

It read “happy birthday”

“I’ll take it” he said, taking out a coin and inserting it into her pockets. The women beside the girl threw her out of the line and into his arms.

The woman seized her oppertunity and asked her own question again

“Grand Day Out?” she asked.

“Those days in the park were pretty grand, maybe I can see them again” she said, grabbing the can from the woman and drinking the remiander of it’s contents before looking over to the man in her arms and giving him a warm smile as they both departed the room.

The woman watched them both go, she looked at the discarded can as it was released from the grip of the girl and crashed to the floor.

And then she smiled.

 

WELL (Original Story)

WELL


Samantha stared at the mirror with a blank, unemotional gaze. She looked into the image before her and found it wanting.

“We’re doing this again aren’t we?” the image uttered back to her.

“Really” Samantha responded

“What scenario is it this time?” the reflection replied.

“Work”

“Well…”

“No. No, don’t say that” Samantha responded, the icy demeanour on her face visibly melting.

“Well…” the reflection uttered again.

Samantha grabbed her purse and scrambled for a small device. Finding it, she aimed it at the mirror.

“Is that another brick?” asked Samantha’s reflection.

“It’s your factory settings, alright? I mean it this time, you’re going back to it” Samantha shouted, her hands trembling.

“You mean it? Are you telling me you’ve found meaning in your life?” replied the reflection.

“Yes, yes I mean it, and it has nothing to do with some crazy ephiphany, it has everything to do with keeping me grounded”

“And why is that?” said the reflection.

Samantha’s tears flowed, eroding her gracefully placed mascara. She sank to the floor, howling.

“I don’t want to climb into the clouds, they may look pretty, but they have no surface to them. You think they’re made of cotton, but they’re not, they’re trap doors, without a parachute attached to your back, you fall. You don’t fly, you don’t kiss the sky, you fall. You crash, you die, and all you have for company on your way to death is cold, breezy air. The very reminders of life, giving you one final graceful intake of breath before it takes it away”

Samantha heard no response, no a peep, from her reflection.

She steadily picked herself up and dusted everything off, she wanted to fix her mascara, but it would mean only one thing.

Staring into the mirror again.

No sooner that she contemplated it, she realized she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection again.

“To climb into the clouds, you must fly. You must be” said the reflection. Samantha closed her eyes. She heard nothing, as she saw nothing.

She searched, in blackness, for the door to the executve washroom, and stepped out into her office block.

She opened her eyes and walked down the hallway to the office of Silverton Smith, her boss. As she walked past the various television monitors attached to the wall, the audible voice pitched a faulty service across the entire building.

“At Grand Reflections, we devote our range of radical reflector technology to the caring and being of all those who are not afraid to fly, to ascend to the very top of our company, you must always look out for yourself. If you can’t, then our reflectors, the artificial essence of your work potential, tailored in your image,will always be there to ask, to teach, to maintain your status quo, and to ensure you never slip from the clouds. Grand Reflections, you can be what we need you to be. Be well”

She stepped into Smith’s office, where he was playing with a Frisbee and a pet dog.

“Samantha, come on in” he said, “We were kind of worried after the slip back you had at the working lunch, are you ready to come back to work?” said Smith.

“Well…” Samantha began, Smith cut her off.

“That’s the word that’ll get you everywhere. Have a seat, we’ll play some checkers”

Samantha sat down, she tried to keep her gaze on Smith’s assuring smile and his dog’s ecstatic behavior, but she could not help herself.

She had to peer out at the windows behind him that formed part of his crystal clear glass skyscraper.

She looked to see her reflection in the glass.

She needed to listen to what her reflector had to say.

She was prepared to deal with it better in the prescense of others.

The reflector was right. All was well.

She peered forth at the distant reflection in the window hoping the response would be swift.

Would she listen though?

Or would it consider the glass?

The glass that was all but keeping her from descending down the trap door.

A trap well sprung.

Knight Rider-KITT VS KARR (Junkyard Edition)

max1126221356-front-cover

Taking another shadowy flight into the realm of criminals who operate above the law and the men who stop them amidst not existing.

Knight Rider saw it’s sturdy supercar KITT destroyed on rare occasions…usually in feature length episodes. There was one exception however, “Junkayrd Dog”, a 45-minute gem from the third season that was KR’s way of dealing with environmental issues and putting an end to pesky fat cat pollutants.  KITT’s destruction and subsequesant rebuilding is fantastic mythology building, introducing us to his original development team, as well as giving us some tense moments between Micheal and Bonnie as they clash over what’s best for KITT’s condition.

Seeing this episode got me thinking…what would it have been like if this were a longer story? Hard to stretch it out beyond it’s conventional length without having to fall back on another episode entirely…and there was only one other story that fit the bill from the same season: KITT VS KARR

Think about it, it alligns so perfectly. When one car falls, another rises. Both have their own fair set of problems, each have their own supporting cast, one set acts selflessly, one acts selfishly, the parallels are so poetic.

It was so easy to mix and mash some of these episode’s scenes, ultimately setting everything up for their respective third acts. Here’s a little timeline of how I managed it before you can see for yourself:

– Edit starts with footage of “Junkyard Dog”, and the road being paved with pollution. Episode title, writer and directors credits cut. Likewise for when we get to the “KITT vs KARR” portion of the edit
– “Junkyard Dog” footage continues until KITT is destroyed
– “KITT VS KARR” footage resume with KARR being towed out of the beach (I like to think hauling him out took at least a day)
– Junkyard Dog” footage resume up until Micheal asks Bonnie how long it’ll take to repair KITT
– Another portion of “KITT vs KARR” takes over here, with KARR persuading his driver to consider his options
– “Junkyard Dog” resumes and work begins on restoring KITT
– Back to “KITT vs KARR”, KARR learns about Eddie’s pacemaker, then-
– back to “Junkyard Dog”
– back to “KITT VS Karr” after Eddie is administered to hospital
– back to “Junkyard Dog” for more or less the remainder of it’s duration
– “KITT Vs KARR” resumes with KITT coming out of the tunnel, several scenes rearranged due to other scenes being used earlier in the edit
– Epilogue of “Junkyard Dog” used.

 

password: KITT (capitals)

Did this work for you? Only your batteries know for sure

 

Another Clean-Up

Removed my entries on Doctor Who-Series Ten Revisited as I will be remounting them soon with rips from the official DVD releases and not the TX versions.

Gone too is my umpteen drafts of The Wedding of Sarah Jane Smith…now that the current version is listed on IFDB. The new draft will be made available to stream on Vimeo this week.

Also missing is The Snowmen as I had an even better set of ideas for it as an edit. It’ll be back up before Christmas, I hope to have it released on FE.Org as a Christmas present, but we’ll see how they like it.

At the moment, I’m thinking of giving my Doctor Who edits a “uniform title” sequence, which would just be the old 2005-2009 titles with a shortened version of the theme borrowed from Whoflix.

Hey Arnold!-The Pines of Rome [Fanfiction]

HeyArnold-72005

THE PINES OF ROME

(based on the final scenes of “The Jungle Movie”)


“So you and Gerald…things going smoother than a milkshake with you two?” Helga asked her best friend Phoebe as they made their way down the street in a bright crisp Monday morning.

“It’s only been forty-two hours Helga” Phoebe replied.

“Criminey, hours, days..months, it all rushes past us doesn’t it?” Helga responded.

“Only if you don’t take it slow” said Phoebe.

The two took a left and headed past their usual corner, where they met up with Arnold and Gerald.

No sooner than Gerald and Phoebe had made eye contact were they eager to clutch one another’s hands and stroll down the remainder of the path to School together.

Arnold and Helga watched them go. Inspired, Arnold reached out for Helga’s hand and clutched it tight.

Sensations overwhelemed Helga as her love for her pint-sized prince continued to be reciprocated. In a series of seconds, she began projecting a clear and ideal future for the two of them.

However, those few seconds also gave way to more immediate concerns about the present…about what this long desired affection would do for her public image, her standing in the school, and how it would impact her own identity.

As much as Arnold loved her, she was still a damaged person. It would take a lot of time for him to mend her in a way that did’nt compromise who she was on the outside or the inside. She wanted the quality in her life to be made better, but not at the expense of drastically altering who she was at the center.

For now, Helga still needed to be Helga.

Arnold would understand, he always did.

To this end, she would indulge in a well intentioned game of ”hard to get”. A game she knew Arnold would relish playing.

“Hey, who said you could touch me?!”

She took back her hand and walked past Arnold, making sure he noticed the dreamy expression on her face afterwards. Arnold’s reassuring and understanding smile as he followed her gave her all the reason to be proud of what she’d just done.

He did’nt want her to change either. Not yet.

Phoebe was right. The hours and months to come needed to be taken slowly. The foundations of Rome, one of the most romantic of all cities, weren’t built in a day.