“You can fool all of the people some of the time; you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can’t fool all the people all the time.” – Abraham Lincoln
So after another night on the whiskey, poppers and mushrooms, I had shat out yet another steaming pile of shit film script. The hard booze and hallucinogens had me tripping balls as I gazed at the now pulsating laptop screen of literary excrement. I so desperately wanted to become an award-winning filmmaker but, even full of stimulants, I could not stir the necessary creative juices. At my lowest ebb, a moment of Jimney Cricket-esque inspiration hit me right between the eyes in the form of Microsoft’s Clippy suggestion bot.
He told me to try the latest craze taking the world by storm, ChatGPT. He informed me that it could answer any problem or query one throws at it, especially the conundrum of producing a shit short film script. I was now riding on the crest of a wave of psychosis-induced euphoria, feeling on top of the world and ready to unleash my creative prowess on this technological marvel.
“Hmmmmm…something that is set in Arklow, designed to tug at the heartstrings of even the most hardened soul and yet also convey a serious social justice message, designed to win endless awards,” I mused to myself.
Eureka! A kitten who contracts arse cancer! In one fell swoop, I could raise awareness globally about the scourge of arse cancer, whilst also garnering endless self-praise and false accolades to fuel the insatiable ego trip that is my pathetic life.
This cliche-ridden scutter would no doubt finally fire me to stardom! I thank Clippy for his assistance and, for fear of losing this incredible moment of clarity, frantically navigate my way to https://openai.com/blog/chatgpt.
Write a short film script about a kitten suffering from arse cancer in Arklow. Would it laugh in my face or embrace my inspired sentiment?” I nervously queried this digital oracle. The cursor blinked briefly before hastily producing the greatest film script ever made.
Title: A Kitten’s Battle
Fade in:
EXT. ARKLOW – DAY
We see a small, cute kitten walking down the street, but it looks weak and exhausted. Suddenly, the kitten stumbles and falls to the ground, crying in pain.
INT. VETERINARY CLINIC – DAY
The kitten is lying on the examination table while the veterinarian, Dr Smith, examines it. Dr Smith looks at the kitten’s medical records and then turns to the owner, a kind-hearted woman named Mary.
DR. SMITH I’m sorry to tell you this, but your kitten has arse cancer. It’s a severe condition that needs immediate treatment.
MARY (tearfully) What can we do? How can we help her?
DR. SMITH We can perform surgery to remove the tumour, but it’s a risky procedure, and the cost is high.
MARY (pause) I’ll do anything to save her.
DR. SMITH (puts a hand on Mary’s shoulder) I understand how you feel. Let’s do our best to help her.
INT. MARY’S HOUSE – DAY
The kitten is resting in a cosy bed in Mary’s living room. Mary sits next to her, gently stroking her fur. Suddenly, the kitten starts to cry in pain again.
MARY (tearfully) Oh no, she’s suffering. We have to do something.
INT. VETERINARY CLINIC – DAY
Dr Smith is examining the kitten again, looking worried.
DR. SMITH I’m sorry, Mary, but the tumour has spread, and the surgery is no longer an option.
MARY (sobbing) What can we do now?
DR. SMITH We can try to make her as comfortable as possible and give her pain medication to ease her suffering.
INT. MARY’S HOUSE – DAY
The kitten is lying in her bed, barely moving. Mary is sitting next to her, holding her in her arms.
MARY (tearfully) I wish there was something more we could do.
Suddenly, the kitten opens her eyes and looks at Mary. She meows weakly and then closes her eyes again.
MARY (whispers) Don’t worry, I’m here for you.
FADE OUT.
The poppers had suddenly resurged through my cerebral cortex, and this sensation, coupled with sitting on the greatest film script ever to be made, forced me into yet another frantic session of masturbation. This precious gift from the AI Gods could not afford to be squandered, and even in my post-ejaculated state, I managed to print 126 copies of this masterpiece.
Drug-induced paranoia was now creeping in, and I suddenly began to worry if somebody were to expose my fraudulent behaviour? Clippy even? Nobody could be trusted. It was, therefore, essential I legitimise my new-found auteurship by winning as many ‘awards’ for the unfilmed script as quickly as possible. But how?
Clippy piped up again, suggesting I submit the script to a website called filmfreeway.com. “For as little as 20 euro a month, they will enter your script into endless amounts of bogus awards, where you are guaranteed to win at least 12 a week,” he claimed.
“Yes, but what good are bogus awards?” I naively asked.
“It doesn’t matter, Auteur, once people see a major city in the title of the award and some Cannes Film Festival golden laurels, they’ll be sold on it hook, line and sinker. Trust me, I’ve done this before; I’ve won 189 awards already, and Im a fuckin Microsoft Office digital paperclip!
Besides, anybody can be anything they want to be online these days; with the right filters and botox lips-a supermodel, the right steroids-a fitness coach, a rise n-grind entrepreneur- money laundering through second hand car dealerships, an international best-selling author-selling one book on Amazon for 76 cents, the possibilities are endless!” quipped an impatient Clippy.
“You’re the boss, Clippy,” I replied.
“Besides, If anybody does become suspicious just run to all the local papers, who will print absolutely any aul shite as the record. Once something is in physical print, it is an official fact and can’t ever be refuted.
You are also raising awareness of an extremely serious matter, the continued stigmatisation of kittens with arse cancer. This automatically makes you immune from any and all criticisms. Make your movement official by calling it something like Kittens Against Arse Cancer (KAAC). Any potential detractors can indiscriminately be labelled as kittenophobes and justifiably be exposed as such at work, home or online.
Waterboarding, torture and death are also acceptable methods of keeping people in line with your fascistic message of love, acceptance and tolerance of kittens suffering from arse cancer. As an oppressed minority fearlessly representing suffering kittens, you are untouchable and can slaughter all in your path with impunity.
Once you have vanquished your enemies, figure out how to monetise your despotism. Perhaps organise a festival, begging and harassing sponsorship money off everybody whilst secretly funnelling the proceeds to your offshore OnlyFans barter account,” clipped Clippy.
“I love it when a plan comes together, Clippy,” I wanked gleefully.
“The glory which is built upon a lie soon becomes a most unpleasant incumbrance. … How easy it is to make people believe a lie, and how hard it is to undo that work again!” – Mark Twain
