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The Catcher in the Guy

If there's one thing I know about people, it's that they just don't get it, and they never will.  Sometimes brilliance is like spouting gansta-rap to your mother;  it just doesn't fly.  It certainly doesn't supahfly.

In my never-ending quest to capture the essence of writing, I concocted a character that was centered around the fundamental nature of bad Hollywood writing.  The film:  Fatal Killings.  The character:  Guy Number 2.  A few words always come to the average joe's mind when this character is brought up:  confusion, boredom, bewilderment, anger, bafflement, breasts, confusion... the list goes on.  The reason for this is much simpler than you'd think:  you're all idiots.

Guy Number 2 is a tool, an obvious writing tool.  He's there to get the plot moving easily at times when I would've actually had to think, rather than write.  Don't listen to those hacks that say you've gotta think before you write.  If you see them sell a script, tell me about it, because it would be the first time in Hollywood history.  So, with Guy Number 2, the writing process is laid bare as a drunk sorority girl who passed out in the middle of a frat party, and hilarity ensues, whether you think so or not.

For all you non-believers, I have only one thing to say: one day, you're gonna wake up and take a look at yourselves.  You know what you'll see?  You'll see Guy Number 2...

And no pants.  So, HA.

Dave Casey