SCENE: An Atlanta area sound stage in the mid-afternoon. College football coaches Nick Saban, Phil Fulmer, and Ed Orgeron along with country music star Tim McGraw and actor/gigantic black guy Qinton Aaron are engaging in a live dress rehearsal for their upcoming movie, The Blind Side. Director
ARTSYDIRECTORGUY John Lee Hancock is conducting the rehearsal with Baltimore Raven and former Ole Miss Rebel Tackle Michael Oher at his side as a film accuracy consultant.
DIRECTOR: Before we get started, I must ask everyone to review the newest copies of the script. We removed all of Coach Tuberville's parts because, as I just learned last night, he's not coming. (The group looks at him, perplexed.) Yeah, he shot me an email with a picture of himself fishing in the Bahamas. The caption said "fuck your movie." I mean, whatever, his loss... Alright, so, you all have read the script and you know this is the scene where you all are going to be making your in-home visits to Mike; really giving him the hard sell. We want to convey the tough decision Mike had to make, so just do what you would normally do on a visit, but try to stick as closely to the lines as possible, okay? So, let's get this started. Um, Coach Oregon ...
ED ORGERON: OURHJURAHN.
D: Or - juh - ron?
CEO: ORJRAH YEW LONGAHAIRRA SUMMUNABITCH!D: ... (The cast looks about; confused, sympathetic. They wonder if he is an illegal immigrant and become concerned for his civil rights.) Okay, Ed. You'll be starting us of from with the first line of the seventh scene of Act ...
CEO: MIKE. COMMAHANAPLAY FUHDUH ... FUHDUH ... FUHDATEAM DACOACHO COACHFO ... DACOACHO WAHNCHOOTA ... (turns to the camera and winks) VOLUHTEEYAH YOURAHTALONS TOODATEAM.
D: Okay, Ed, that was ... I really liked your ... enthusiasm. But, what I need you to do is talk to the actor playing Mike, and not actually Mike himself.
CEO: ButdaCoachO recrootdaMikeLower notdisheeyah MikeNo-uh. DONTELLDACOACHOWHUTODO!
D: Well, Ed, I understand your frutration, but, remember, it's a movie, and, as the director, I'm just trying to tell a compelling story about how, you know, you used your fantastic recruting skills to, you know, really steal a high-profile recruit for a team like Ole Miss.
CEO: O HOO?
D: Ole Miss. The team you used to ...
CEO: DACOACHO KNOW HOOYOOTAWKINBOUT. DACOACHO PULLINYUHCHAIN. (CEO attacks the director for a brief but aggressive "noogie.") NOWLESSUHMAKEDACOACHOMOVIE. AAAAK-SHUN! (To Aaron) MIKEAH, DACOACHONO STIRYOO DARAWGNWEH. ISSATIME FAHYOOTOO STEPUPANNA WALK DOWNUH RAGHT PATH. OR MAYBUH DACOACHO SHUDDAHSAY DA RAGHT ... (shug shoulders, grins) ... LANE.
MIKE OHER: Coach, that's not in the script. What are you doing?
CEO: DACOACHO DUNNITBEEFO ANNAHGONNA DOOITAGIN. MIKEAH, YOONEEDA SINEWIFDACOACHO ANNAKIFFIN ANDAH WyLdE bOyZe!!1!
D: Okay, Ed, I don't think you understand. The real Mike Oher plays professionally now for a great deal of money. We're playing make beleive here. You need to pretend like your talking to Quinton, who is playing Michael. Is any of this ...
"FAT" PHIL FULMER: (Interrupting) This is buttfuckin' bullshit is what this is you bunch of fuckin' queers.
FPF: You call this shit chicken salad. It's tastes liked a busted a nut on Big Bird's decaying corpse and mixed it up with a spoon. Is that what you Hollywood fairies call chicken salad? We're in fuckin' AT-LAN-TA! There's enough fatass black women around here to make good chicken salad out of moisturizer and a shredded up copy of this bullshit you call a script.
QUINTON AARON: Yeah. YEAH! That fat dude is right. You know I had to eat sushi yesterday?
FPF: What a bunch of rice-wrapped bullshit that was. There wasn't even any fuckin' gravy to go with it. You bunch of cocksuckin' barbarians. Who catered this shit? Pete fuckin' Carroll?
D: You know what, Phil? This is pefect. I just want you to channel your anger into this scene, and then we'll fry you up a human being if that's what you want ...
FPF: Your damn shit fuckin' right that's what I want some fuckin' battered and fried Mike Hamilton with some Kiffin tots.
D: (To crew, quitetly) Just start rolling.
FPF: And, I'll tell you another fuckin' thing, all these other clowns might not know what the fuck they're doing but Phil fuckin' Fulmer can run a program. If you want your shit done right, you better go with Fulmer. What you think about that, Mikey?
D: That's perfect! Cut and print!
* * *
(On the other side of the set, Nick Saban is practicing his lines with Sandra Bullock).
NICK SABAN: You know, Leigh Ann, these are some really fantastic drapes you have. They are almost as lovely as this magnificient purple and gold polo I am wearing as the much-celebrated head coach of the LSU Tigers, which, by-the-way is not Alabama.
SANDRA BULLOCK: Oh, Nick (catching herself) ... I mean ... Oh, Ni-yuck. Ah declay-uh you are just sweet as cay-rott cake. Thaynk yewwwww! Tell you whut, why don't you have some of mah chayuss squares or some coconut cake?
NS: That sounds, wonderful Mrs. Touhuy. I think I'll have some ...
FPF: Don't you give that slick motherfucker any of my cake.
D: Would someone get Mr. Fulmer enough food to distract him for fifteen minutes so I can finish this scene? Please? Okay, Nick, you seem like you've got it together, let's try to knock your scene out quickly because, really, most of this has been a monumental waste of time, okay? Aaand, ACTION!
NS: Listen, Michael, I'm very excited about your recruitment, but I don't want you to tell me where you're going to day, because if you are not going to Ala ... LSU, then I am afraid that I will have to report all these <ahem> perks you've been recieving from the various coaches and boosters involved in this process. You know you have a solid chance to see legitimate playing time at right tackle your junior, maybe sophomore, year if you come to LSU. Nobody could turn that down unless they had done somethine illegal. We both know it.
NS: Listen, Mike, here's the deal. Alabama blows.
AQ: But, Coach, I wasn't even talking about Alaba ...
NS: They are a bunch of nut jobs, Michael. I've seen it, you know, (winking) from a distance having coached there (with almost disturbingly aggressive winks), as, you know, the away team. Middle-aged drunk chick - heck, even men - will follow you to the airport and not think it's weird. Also, they're going to lose the Sugar Bowl to Utah in a couple of years, so ...
Then, without warning, the back door to the studio bursts open and a bright beam of light pierces the room. Coach Houston Nutt has heard the commotion and has come to Oher's aid. He quickly jogs to the set.
HOUSTON DALE NUTT: Mike, get away from there! Mike ... Mike ... Mikeity! (HDN grabs the real Michael Oher by the arm, sees Aaron Quinton, and hesitates before mumbling...) You can't never have too many. Come on, you too, big guy! Hey! Think you can block for a running back? Wooo, yeah, you can! You're a football player! Alright, Fatty, Foxy, and Frenchy, git on outta here. Shazam!
D: Okay, seriously, gopher-clown, you're sucking up all the crazy on my set. And why in the hell are you still wearing that damn Ole Miss sombrero?
HDN: Listen, HAH! Not even Jimmah Sexton could get me enough money to wear anything with a Razorback logo on it. HOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEE!
CEO: DACOACHO NOWHODAGOFUHCLOWNBE. HEDAHCOACHNUTT TAKEAHDACOACHO JOB ANNAH NOW HEESAH TAKINMAHPLAYUH! HEESUH MAHPLAYUH! COMPETITUH! HEESUH TREMENDOUS!
Coach Orgeron angrily storms to the camera, violently clenches the lens hood, shoves his face right into the lens and screams ...
CEO: TENNUSEE! VOLUHTEEYUH! IF YOUSAH WATCHINDIS MOOVEE YOU BETTAH COME TO TENNUHSEE!!! YOOWANNABEEA VOLUHTEEYUH! WILDEBOYZE!!!1
D: Aaaand cut. You're all a bunch of fucking fools. I can't work like this.
TIM MCGRAW: Yeah, you bunch of amateurs.
D: Shut the fuck up Tim McGraw. You're a shitty actor, "Live Like You Were Dying" was trite, and Tug McGraw was a swamp rat and a no good pansy baseball player.
Hancock hops out of his chair, does and immediate about face, and authoritatively walks out of the sound stage and into his trailer, leaving behind his bottle of FIji watter and patterend ascot. An awkward silence fills the room as the cast of members all stare at one another.
CEO: SO DAT BOBBYPETRINUH. HEESAFUCKINDOOSH HUH?
* * *
Three hours later, Lou Holtz, confused and groggy from a mid-morning nap which lasted a bit longer than anticipated, stumbles into the studio wearing a South Carolina Gamecocks jersey and a Notre Dame Fighting Irish cap.
LOU HOLTH: Hello? Oh shith... shith shith shith. They told me thats Jevan Thnead and Houthton Nutth was gonna be here and everything. Where in the heck is Mark May and Lee Cortho? I am tupposed to be in thith movieth!
Suddenly, Lane Kiffin, having seen the rehearsal on Ed O's schedule and miffed at the fact that he wasn't at all a part of the script, barges into the room hoping to "assert" his "place" in the SEC to the director. Seeing an empty set, save for Lou Holtz, he pauses, stunned.
LH: Well, at leath the caterer isth here.