A MAN, probably in his mid-30's, is dressed in a rumpled dark gray suit, shoulders slumped. He holds a tattered briefcase, swinging slightly at his side as he walks away from the subway station and down the sidewalk to his apartment building. And then we hear it...the click.
MAN VO: It's always there. Don't you hear it? That click, click, click. It never stops.
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING
The MAN enters his building and walks up the creaky stairs case to his third floor apartment. Everything in there looks broken or used/2nd hand. More CLICKING. He drops his briefcase by the door along with his keys on the wall and his jacket in the coat closet.
MAN VO: When I eat. When I sleep. When I'm taking a shit. Always clicking.
The MAN goes to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of scotch, nearly empty, from a high shelf. He downs what's left and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, hissing as the alcohol burns his throat. More CLICKING. He throws the bottle into the recycling bin with a thud and goes to his bedroom, the CLICKING noise insistent.
The bed is still unmade from this morning. He flops down, face first into the blankets and breathes out. A moment later, he grabs his pillow and screams into it.
MAN VO: Always that DAMN CLICKING. ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS.
Despite the clicking, he falls asleep.
The MAN gets up and goes to the bathroom to take a piss and use the shower. He starts singing. More CLICKING. When he finishes, he gets out, the walls of the bathroom no longer have peeling wallpaper but bright white tile. Shiny and new. The MAN doesn't notice.
After getting dressed, he goes to the kitchen. The MAN does a double take when he finds a new oven where the old, broken one was.
He makes his coffee.
The MAN leaves his building, on his way to work, but he stops at an ATM on the way. He's astound when he finds 1 million dollars on his account.
MAN: What the hell...
But the MAN just shrugs it off.
The MAN gets home from the subway station with a grocery bag. He's in the same rumpled suit with the tattered briefcase. After getting home, he puts the food away. The bottle of scotch is last. When he tries to open it, it suddenly appears in the counter beside him. He makes a grab for it, it moves out of his reach.
MAN: What the hell...
More CLICKING as the MAN wrestles with whatever invisible force is keeping him from his booze. CLICKING. More CLICKING. And then a shadow appears over the city outside his kitchen window. He looks out. A BIG WHITE ARROW slowly moves across the sky. More CLICKING. The MAN screams.
I don't know if it's already been suggested, but I think that the whole idea of 'Second Life' could be explored. By which I mean the virtual world Second Life. It says in the article that I linked to that there are over 21 million accounts. That's a lot of virtual living.
I'm thinking that there is plenty of potential there for stories, whether humorous or poignant, and that the animators here could create some incredible virtual worlds for these stories to take place in.
I found another link here which I thought was funny and thought-provoking: How Second Life affects Real Life.
I recently read something that tootwofoursquare said about no one in her personal life knows that she's on Hitrecord and writes. And I'm the same way. No one knows that I do this because I'm so terrified about people in my, as she wrote "real world" knowing that I write and potentially seeing it and judging it. Is it weird that I'm more comfortable letting strangers see a part of me that even my closest friends and family don't? Maybe it's just a confidence issue, or its nice to have a secret life? I dont know.
Im even planning on going to the HOA this summer and am trying to figure out a way to tell people that Im leaving without actually telling anyone what Im doing.
And I'm wondering at 6am because I couldn't sleep, and I'm about to get up and go to a job that is in no way creative and at times can be soul sucking.
So I guess my secret is that I hitrecord, anyone else?
I want to tell you a story.
A true story.
It's about me and my avatar. Or is it my avatar and me?
It started when I played the online game "2 Worlds".
I got to choose whomever I wanted to be.
I chose to be a Spanish soldier from the 15th Century.
Travelling with Columbus.
But here's the kicker: when playing "Two Worlds", your avatar gets to be you...and live YOUR life.
He creates your world inside the computer and when I was not off on my conquest of the Americas, I got to watch him live my life.
My wife and kids seemed so...real.
It was fascinating...at first.
Then it became weird...creepy.
My wife and kids seemed much happier with my avatar.
I became insanely jealous.
Especially watching him in bed with my wife.
I finally said, "No more...I am quitting this game...and I'm reporting this game to the Federal Communications Commission."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," replied my avatar.
"Fuck you!" I shouted.
And then it happened: I could see a double of my avatar laying in wait. In a West Indies jungle, along with a new tribe who Columbus and his men...including my Spanish soldier meme...were approaching.
"Stop! I'm not playing anymore!" I screamed.
He looked toward me and smiled. Then he shot my computer clone soldier through the heart with a poison arrow.
...and I lived.
I love being a family man.
I never knew I could be so happy.
WRITERS: Contribute Ideas, Stories & Scripts that explore the relationship between a Player & his Avatar.
NOTE: Please use THIS TEXT RECORD as a reference