Emily steals a work of art that's as priceless as it is alive.
By Patrick Cassels
INT. OFFICE - IT WAS A RUN-BY FRUITING
A ROPE falls from the ceiling and EMILY descends. She's
wearing black spandex, like a cat burglar. She tosses a
LARGE BURLAP PACKAGE to the ground. PAT & ADAM approach.
Emily, what are you doing?
("snooping" left and right)
Emily's my day name. By night, I'm
a master art thief. I'm called "The
Mole" because of my keen senses.
Aren't moles blind?
Well, I guess some-
And fat with stubby little arms?
Shut up! It doesn't matter, because
The Mole--that's me--has broken
into the Museum of Modern Art and
pulled off the greatest heist of
her career. Behold!
Emily TEARS away the burlap, revealing TILDA SWINTON
underneath, serene and sitting cross-legged.
Um, Emily, that's Tilda Swinton. I
thought you were an art thief.
No Pat, Tilda Swinton is art. I
read about it in The New York Times
Asshole section. She's living in a
gallery in the MoMA as some kind of
Correction, she was living in the
gallery. Now, The Mole has her!
Not for long. Get her out of here.
What's the matter, Pat? Afraid of a
No. Tilda Swinton is just super
I gotta agree. Look, she's playing
a cello made of her own hair.
REVEAL Tilda Swinton is doing... this.
(to no one in particular)
I screamed into a quarry once.
Instead of an echo, the void was
disgusted with me.
Jesus Christ. See?
But if I can sell her on the black
market, I'll be rich!
Who's going to buy Tilda Swinton?
This Croatian trillionaire is
SLIGHT PAN reveals a CROATIAN TRILLIONAIRE.
(in Croatian, subtitled)
She'll look perfect next to my air
Can't you keep her in a storage
locker- ah jeez, look, she's eating
a fruit of her own creation...
REVEAL Tilda Swinton is biting into an orange-banana hybrid.
You're getting juice on the rug.
A book is a mirror walking down the
street. And I can't read.
Ugh. That's it. Adam, help me get
her into the dumpster.
There's a KNOCK on the door. Emily peeks out the window.
Oh no! The cops! Pat, stall them.
Adam! Help me hide the loot.
By "loot," you mean Tilda-?
I- yes, I mean Tilda Swinton.
Emily and Adam clumsily throw blankets over Tilda Swinton.
Pat answers the door and two hard-boiled DETECTIVES (Brian
and Nick) enter, peeking around suspiciously.
Um... Can I help you?
I'm detective Rodriguez, this is
detective Octavio. We're looking
into the theft of Tilda Swinton.
W- what makes you think Tilda
Oh, you know: experimental music
complaints, missing crows, a
neighbor said they saw a black
wedding dress hanging from a
haunted oak tree. The usual.
Well, she's not here.
RIGHT behind Pat, Emily and Adam shuffle by with the covered
Tilda Swinton, knocking into stuff. It's painfully obvious.
Oof. Shimmy, Adam! / I am!
TILDA SWINTON (O.C.)
My mother was a ghost. I've never
forgiven her for this.
(gets up in Pat's face) I've
smelled a lot of fucking rats
in my time, and this guy... is
telling the truth. Sorry to
waste your time.
The cops turn to go, but Detective 2 spots something.
Is that a wedding cake made of
REVEAL Tilda Swinton has left this strange item behind. The
cops pull their guns out.
HANDS IN THE FUCKING AIR!
Pat, Emily and Adam raise their hands. The blankets fall off
Tilda Swinton, who is now nursing a wolf pup.
Against the wall! NOW!
I'm innocent! I swear! I just found
her in the back of a Jamesway!
Tell it to the judge.
CROATIAN TRILLIONAIRE (O.C.)
(subtitled, in Croatian)
What the fuck?!
The Croatian Trillionaire examines Tilda Swinton with a
CROATIAN TRILLIONAIRE (O.C.)
This is no Tilda Swinton. It's a
worthless Cate Blanchett!
He pulls out a Kalishnikov. The cops raise their guns. Just
as an EPIC GUNFIGHT breaks out we...