Listen—stop talking. I don’t need to hear the rest. The first half of the sentence was genius! “Owen Wilson befriends a dolphin and…” And? What “and”? No “and” necessary! Are you kidding me? I’m sold. Sold!
I realize you want to finish your sentence, but what can I say? Welcome to the dream factory, baby! I make incredibly quick decisions because I’ve got the know-how. And I know enough to know that I’ve already heard as much from you on this project as I’m ever going to need to hear. Capisce?
“Owen Wilson befriends a dolphin.” Bam! Owen Wilson. Befriends. A dolphin. It’s perfect.
Now, all we need to do is figure out the movie. What? You have a whole concept worked out already? Beautiful—but completely unnecessary. I’ll come up with the rest of it, off the top of my head, right now, while I’m on the 405. Believe me, every ounce of attention not taken up by the constant lane-changing is focused like a white-hot laser on your idea right now. That’s my job. That’s what I do. I’m constantly making key decisions, even while driving. If I slow down for even one minute, I miss out on a great idea like your Owen-Wilson-befriends-a-dolphin thing, so I can’t waste my time listening to each and every word of each and every sentence people say to me. Shit! Hold on a sec.
Okay, I’m back. Sorry, I had to take that. We’re close to a deal on a $200 million live-action Smurfs movie, but I told them I’d call back, because right now I’m putting everything other than this Wilson/dolphin project on the back burner, at least for the next two, possibly even three minutes.
So the dolphin helps Wilson fall in love? He splashes them, they get soaked, then they bond over hot cocoa while their clothes are drying—yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, you’ve already impressed the hell out of me, so don’t worry so much about the little details. We’ll work those out once we’ve got a voice for the dolphin, and I’m thinking Mr. Robin Williams. Am I right?
You didn’t intend to have the dolphin talk? Come on, you can’t have a main character in an aquatic-mammal buddy comedy just float around squeaking, can you? We can CGI the hell out of the thing and make it rap and breakdance. We’ll get an effects house on that right away so we have some footage in time for the trailers. Speaking of promo, let’s talk movie posters: I see Wilson, the dolphin, front seat of a convertible, wearing shades. Yes, both of them. If you think I’m going to make a movie about Owen Wilson befriending a dolphin and not put the slippery little bastard in Ray-Bans, you’re crazy!
Now, we need to determine how we’re gonna get the two of them into space. What? You didn’t see it as a sci-fi film? Well, maybe not sci-fi, but it’s sure as hell got to have some zero-gravity battle sequences. We’re going to have to appeal to more than just your standard rom-com/animal-buddy-movie audience to make it worth our time.
Stop talking. I’m sold, I told you. What are you, deaf? You’re not one of these “difficult” writers who’s married to the concept of finishing his sentences, are you? ’Cause if you are, you can take a walk. I’ve got 40 other meet-and-greets slated for this afternoon alone, so fuck Owen Wilson, fuck the dolphin, and fuck you. I can just as easily throw together something with Vince Vaughn and a giant sea tortoise, and you’ll never get so much as a whiff on another spec in this town again. So it’s your choice.
Great! I knew you’d come around. Can’t wait to work with you on this one. I’ll have my girl set up lunch with Owen over at SeaWorld and see what we come up with and get back to you. Ciao, gotta go! Love ya!
