Usually galactic aliens arrive bent on destruction and world domination. This time they just need a favor.
Knowing how diverse, often unpredictable and frequently lethal earth’s population can be, the aliens study world culture to find the perfect face to pose their request and settle on GEORGE CLOONEY as the most recognizable and loved face on earth.
Google ‘most recognizable face in the world’ and the answer is …
1 Hitler – dead, thank God.
2 Brooke Shields – really?
3 GEORGE CLOONEY
4 Einstein – dead.
5 Putin – are you kidding me?
6 Marilyn Monroe – dead.
George it is.
They send GEORGE CLOONEYS to every country on earth aiming for each culture’s leader.
There are a few miscalculations.
GEORGE CLOONEY in a flowing Greek robe materializes in the middle of the Aegean Sea and drowns. Unfortunately, Atlantis is under water now.
GEORGE CLOONEY in a fur coat and Russian hat materializes, smiles, waves and cooks to death in front of Chernobyl Reactor #4.
There are a couple of misunderstandings.
GEORGE CLOONEY in a lovely kimono goose-steps across pavement to a wall in front of uniformed Red Guards. He asks, “Are we going to see the Emperor?” The guards back away. GEORGE CLOONEY looks at the wall, turns around to see a Red Guard firing squad. GEORGE CLOONEY says, “uh-oh.”
GEORGE CLOONEY dressed in white peasant pants and a poncho appears in a spacious Spanish style mansion. Three thugs with machine guns confront him. Off-camera, over a loud speaker “THIS IS THE DEA. You are surrounded. Come out with your hands up! GEORGE CLOONEY smiles and says, “Hola.” The thugs machine gun him to bits.
And then …
GEORGE CLOONEY winds his way through the tourist crowd in front of Buckingham Palace. Someone yells, “Look! It’s Ben Affleck!” GEORGE CLOONEY tries to ease through the crowd, but the pointing, shifting crowd coalesces toward him and he has to run for his life on the streets of London. He’s bumped and battered on the run, losing the crowd by jumping a queue, disappearing in and out again of the Underground.
He ends up in Sheffield. In a pub. At night. Staring into his beer when three college friends enter the pub for a celebratory pint for the end of term.
The three save him from some Welcome to England action via local thugs. He tells them he’s an alien from space sent to Earth to ask a favor. He needs a telescope to send a pulse – a gradational wave toward his home planet to redirect a bigger gravitational wave from shifting his planet out of its orbit and keep the Universe from turning inside out.
He speaks with the worst English accent since Kevin Costner played Lord Locksley. An English accent so bad it would make the Queen say the ‘F’ Word.
The three Sheffield grad students are:
Striker, who is in to STAR TREK not Star Wars like all of his friends - male – 26. Ruby, an artist, female – same age. Lump, male, leader of the group and computer gamer – has all the answers for computer problems.
All this time, it’s a tossup whether Our George is really a space alien, a lunatic who just looks like GEORGE CLOONEY or the actual GEORGE CLOONEY gone insane or researching a movie or who knows what movie stars might get up to.
And we wonder, is the Universe filled with endless possibility or is the world just full of con men and naïve marks.
Chris Clark is a wildland firefighter working for the Forest Service when he encounters college students running from the lake with a story of green GOOP melting people.
Chris prefers the solitude of the forest and the company of wildlife to hysterical city folks, but he is saddled with the group when a car wreck blocks the only road. Hiking out is the only option.
He leads the group up a steep ridge dodging a survivalist looking for a bride and a creeping, green viscosity that gets more cunning with each encounter.
Is it an algae bloom gone nuclear? An alien from outer space, or a science experiment reaching extinction threshold.
A new take on the Blob, where the Blob is sentient, intelligent and able to learn.
An old school Montana cop chases a murderer, who witnesses describe as a zombie
werewolf, into a Sci-Fi/Fantasy convention.
Wolf Con is a thriller script with horror movie and sci-fi tones.
Coop Stevens is a Forest Service Law Enforcement officer, one of those strong silent types. He gets a call that a zombie werewolf killed a man hunting in a wilderness area.
Montana’s Bob Marshall Wilderness is miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles of untouched vistas, granite peaks, wildflowers and who knows what else.
Coop’s boss saddles him with the state wolf expert – Muriel Jackson. Some folks can tread the line between commitment and zealotry. Muriel skidded past that and never looked back. This has estranged her from her son who happens to be Coop.
Together they ride into the Bob after the mysterious predator. Coop tracks something that leaves paw and boot prints. Muriel proclaims every step of the way that whatever it is, it’s not a wolf because wolves don’t do bad things.
Coop’s hot pursuit flushes suspect into a small town on the edge of the forest. A small town who’s new librarian, Noreen Tyfield, an ex-pat New Yorker, has arranged the town’s first ever Sci Fi Fantasy Convention.
This put her in direct and daily confrontation with the town Sheriff – Herb Baker, an older version of Coop who usually only has to hitch up his belt and scowl to keep order in his town. Now he has Klingons, fairy princesses, vampires and spacemen romping around, wearing down the nerves of his town folk who usually aren’t all that fond of outsiders anyway.
How would you tell a Klingon from a Zombie Werewolf?
Soon cosplayers report sightings of an epic Zombie Werewolf. Local citizens start turning up gutted, gory and dead, Coop and Herb join forces to track down the killer. Muriel begins to regret the choices she made that cost her her family. Noreen misses the bright lights, big city. Sheriff Herb wishes everyone would behave or go home. Z Wolf wants to find a way back to the Bob.
For the Cosplayers who wake up in a new dimension every day, it’s situation normal.
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