dominicambrose.com

THE SEVENTH ART!

INT./ MINISTRY OF PRETENSIONS / 2:55 P.M.
A frazzled YOUNG MAN (late 20s) rushes up to the counter on the third floor of the Ministry, an artfuly ruinous pile of Corinthian columns on Mount Olympus Boulevard. ZEUS (truly ancient) is standing behind the high counter glaring out at him.                                                                                                                                                                                                                       YOUNG MAN (excitedly)
                                                                                        Am I in time to get a number?
He speaks clearly, turning his head slightly toward a brand new Sony Handycam held by a slovenly guy with a scraggly ponytail. Another guy in jeans is waving a unidirectional shotgun mike around with    annoying carelessness.
                                                                                      ZEUS (unenthusiastically)
                                                                                        Yeah, just barely. If you had gotten here a few minutes                                                                                             later, you would have to wait till my next opening hours.
                                                                  YOUNG MAN
                                                                  When's that?
                                                                  ZEUS
                                                                2075 AD. Nine a.m. sharp.                                                                                                                                     YOUNG MAN (into the camera)
                                                                                        Whew!
                                                                                      ZEUS
                                                                                      Name?
                                                                                      YOUNG MAN
                                                                                      Celluloid. D. Essai
ZEUS makes a disapproving grimace, as he starts to fill in the registration form.                                                                                                                                    ZEUS
                                                                                        Ye Gads, that’s a mouthful. What name are you going                                                                                             by in art?
                                                                                      YOUNG MAN (proudly)
                                                                                        Cinema!                                                                                                                                                                         ZEUS (nodding approvingly)
                                                                 Excellent choice!
The YOUNG MAN peers at the paper ZEUS is writing on, then he points at the entry ZEUS has just made.
                                                                                    YOUNG MAN
                                                                                      That's Cinema with a C, not a K!
ZEUS sneers at him and crosses out the K. The cameraman moves in to get a better reading of ZEUS’ expression. Without looking up, ZEUS points at the cameraman.
                                                                                      ZEUS
                                                                                      Does he have a permit to do that?
                                                                                      YOUNG MAN (a little too quickly)
                                                                                        Er, yes! Yeah! They have the papers downstairs.
The YOUNG MAN watches with growing excitement as ZEUS loudly stamps several copies of the registration form with an ancient stamp. ZEUS hands him the first copy, with a big number “Seven” written on it.
                                                                                          ZEUS (sharply)
                                                                                        Okay, here you are. It’s official: Cinema, the Seventh Art.                                                                                         Whoop-dee-doo. Now go to cashier 23, and let me get                                                                                         out of here, before any more of you barbarians show                                                                                               up. I heard that snot nosed jail-bait, Animator Comix is                                                                                         on his way up here to get a number, too.
                                                                    YOUNG MAN
                                                                Yeah, you should have seen him jumping around                                                                     when he found out he was eligible under the new                                                                     diversity regulations.
                                                                    ZEUS (earnestly leaning closer)
                                                                                           Doesn't anyone know their place anymore?
Just then, a loud commotion is heard as a BLOND SKATER (18 yrs. old) in dreadlocks and a dirty T shirt crashes his skateboard into the potted laurel bush. He calls out to ZEUS from across the room.
                                                                                            BLOND SKATER
                                                                                            Hello! Excuse me, Mister Z? I need a number!
                                                                                            ZEUS (mumbling under his breath)
                                                                                            Oh, shit. Too late.