15 Seconds Of Fame (Or, in some cases, 30-60)

by Ana Lyssie Cotton

One.

A subway train glides through the under-darkness of some busy city. The driver is a bored woman, her dark hair tied back and circles under her deep blue eyes.

Through the darkness, light approaches, turning into the side of another train gliding past. Compartment after compartment slides by. People on it doing all sorts of things from a pair of women snuggling and smiling to two men with glasses and tweed battling what appears to be a demon.

Another section slides by wherein a dark-haired boy is demonstrating some complicated dance move to his apparently engrossed girlfriend. The next section contains a bleached blond man standing casually against the wall reading a newspaper. He's wearing black Dockers slacks.

The next section has a young blonde girl tackling a dark-haired girl, a stake in her hand.

A pause echoes, and the train pulls back as the reflection of the driver smiles.

The blonde man glances up, as if aware of the notice the whole time, and raises an eyebrow. The driver mouths "nice pants." to him, and he smirks.

--

Two.

Black fades up to a black and white image of a muscled man with sweat gleaming as he pumps iron. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Pull back from the screen to a walkway, with a young woman standing there. The white streak in her dark brown hair stands out as she smiles. "Women aren't s'posed to sweat. But we do. So we need a PH balanced anti-perspirant that's strong enough for the likes of Dakota there."

The man pumping iron casually glances at the camer and smiles. "Secret. Strong enough for me."

"But made for a woman." Rogue smiles and holds up the baby powder scented stick. "Now in six new scents. For when you don't want them to know you really sweat."

--

Three.

A subway train pulls into a deserted station. As the last few people inside exit, three teens dash down the stairs and into the doors as they slide closed. They're all carrying huge bags. The blonde has a cooler in neon pink tucked under one arm.

As the train slowly pulls away and heads for the next station, they move around the car putting up signs pointing out which say "Closed for Repairs." The dark-haired Asian girl starts stringing blue and yellow tinsel from various poles while the tall black youth begins pulling electrical mixing equipment and turntables from the bulky bags. The blonde adds colored lights to the streamers and tinsel.

Quick Cut to another station, three young women stand there with a man in a red and black mask. They're all loaded down with coolers and such. The train pulls in and there's a hussle to get the luggage onto the 'closed' car. In the bustle, the man gets stuck outside as the doors close. The redhaired woman gives him a gamine grin and philosphical shrug as the train pulls out.

The music starts then, driving techno beats mixed expertly.

Another station sees more young adults hopping aboard, some clad in yellow and blue spandex. Many with X's on their uniforms in various places.

Dancing begins in the aisles, people alone and together, getting down to the heavy beats. Pull back from the dancers to one of the coolers, the neon pink one. Inside, sticking out are several bottles of Smirnoff Ice.

As the train suddenly darkens, the music dips. Then plunges back into the heights as the lights flash back on fully.

Words run along the bottom of the screen, "Smirnoff Ice: Make your own party."

--

Four.

Two men stand in a junglish clearing, rain dripping down on them and mud staining their expensive Italian leather boots. "So she took the Land Rover, and dropped it out of a plane." The elder of the man sounds irritated.

Cut to a dark-haired woman in the driver's seat as a Land Rover falls through the air. She's half-grinning. Sunglasses cover both eyes, and around one is a dark patch.

"And she drove it through the jungle--"

The dark-haired woman is pulling a wild turn down a tree-packed jungle road while behind her guns blaze from various other vehicles.

"--and through a river--"

It's a shallow crossing, but the Land Rover makes it over, leaving at least one of the pursuing vehicles behind it.

"--and covered it in mud--"

A muddy swamp, spinning tires, and one less pursuing vehicle. The grin is still firmly plastered on the dark-haired woman's face.

"--and got it shot full of holes."

Remember all those pursuing vehicles? Yeah. They were all firing. But she seems to have lost them. For now.

"Uh, yes sir." The younger man replies nervously.

"Well, at least she hasn't gotten her hands on the Mini."

Behind them, the shack shatters outwards as the Land Rover explodes through it, pulling a wild turn to come up to the men. Inside, the dark-haired woman flips off her shades and waves.

"Stuart? You're fired!"

"Yes, sir."

--

Five.

Voiceover on black: "Against the backdrop of Ancient Rome comes a new film. Directed jointly by Brian Singer and Ridley Scott, it will rock the world with its grandeur and depictions of a time before comics.

Great battle scenes will surround the dramatic lives of two men. Watch as they grow.

One, sent to relatives for fostering, shall rise a great general. The other will fester and destroy by means of treachery. Destiny will set them against each other..."

Mist wraiths its way through tall forest, a man, a general, prepares his troops for battle. "...and remember! If you suddenly find yourself alone and lost in yellow fields of gold, do not despair! For you are already dead! What is, is!"

Scenes of bloody battle quick-flash through the view. Watching them is an old man, though purple is his mantle, and imperious is his gaze.

Flash to later, the General and a dark-haired woman in his cell. "I am tired of being strong. Your clone loathes you."

"Because of Apocalypse's love for me?"

"And mine."

New scene, the clone, aptly named Stryfe, looks much like the general except for his penchant for spikey helmets. "The people will love me, Domino!"

"As you say, sire." The dark-haired woman replies calmly. Her gaze darts to her young son, watching the two avidly. "Might I take Tyler..."

Cut. The Arena, crowds are roaring as battles are fought on the sand. Then a new victor arises. He stands before them all, helmeted and defiant as the Emperor Stryfe strides towards him.

"Who are you?"

"I am Askani."

The Emperor Stryfe looks irritated. "Slave! Remove your helmet!"

Said helmet is removed, and the face of the General shows. "My name is Nathan Christopher Charles Summers. Commander of the Armies of the North. Father to a corrupted son. Husband to a murdered wife. And I am the Dayspring of Hope."

A later scene. The young lad is fighting with the guards, the Emperor Stryfe watching indulgently. "Are you a Prelate?"

"No!" Tyler replies, "I am an Askani!"

The Emperor stalks away.

In a dank cell, the Emperor Stryfe paces back and forth, the occupant of the cell calmly ignoring him while chained in the middle of the room, arms spread wide. "Apocalypse always loved you best!"

"As you say, Stryfe."

Stillness settles over the Emperor suddenly. "I am your clone, Nathan. I guess, in a way, that makes us brothers." He smiled and stepped towards the other man and then unexpectedly clasped arms about him. "Brothers."

"To the end."

"To the end."

Fade to black, voiceover: "Don't miss this exciting movie! 'Askani' will be coming to a theatre near you. Check local listings for proper times."

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