EXT. NIGHT – A MODERN CASTLE ON A BARREN MARTIAN PLAIN
The entire setting is dark and foreboding. A SIGN on a rusty barbed wire fence reads “WOKES KEEP OUT.” A fancy modernist GATE etched with designs that might be rocket ships or phalluses and topped by the initials “LRH” bars entry to a long driveway leading to the building itself. On the wall next to the gate another sign above a keycard reader says “Let That Sink In.”
DISSOLVE TO:
CLOSER VIEW OF CASTLE EXTERIOR
In the foreground an outdoor pen contains two MONKEYS, wearing space suits. A dingy and partially broken video display outside the pen shows representations of the Monkey’s brains, with different clusters of neurons lighting up and fading into darkness. The monkeys twitch oddly and occasionally fall down in spasms. At the bottom of the screen is the word “Neuralink.” Taped to the bezel of the display is a faded piece of paper on which the words “USDA License Revoked: Cease Experimentation” are visible.
The CASTLE itself is a tasteless technocrat’s wet dream of rehashed mid-century modern mixed with cut-rate Frank Lloyd Wright and tacky McMansionish Mansard roofs, turrets, and bay windows. It is dark except for a single lighted WINDOW on the highest floor.
DISSOLVE TO:
MONTAGE OF VIEWS OF CASTLE GROUNDS
In every shot the single lit window is visible in the background, while the foreground shows the eccentric detritus of a billionaire’s wealth spent impulsively and tastelessly: Life-size, partially disassembled SEX ROBOTS; AI-generated ARTWORKS in the style of famous painters, but lacking in any emotional impact; A TESLA CYBERTRUCK, its wheels removed and suspended above the Martian dust on cinder blocks.
EXT. NIGHT – CU ON LIGHTED WINDOW
Suddenly the light goes out.
INT. NIGHT – BED CHAMBER
The figure of L RON HUSK lies on the bed in front of the window, silhouetted by light from some unseen source outside, perhaps one of Mars’s two moons or the cold distant sun starting to rise.
DISSOLVE TO:
POSTCARD in 1960’s style, featuring a photograph of Cape Town with Table Mountain in the background and the caption “Greetings from South Africa! We have a place for everyone.” The card is held in Husk’s hand, hanging over the edge of the bed.
CU ON HUSK’S MOUTH
HUSK
(Weakly)
Rosebud…
The postcard slips out of his grip and flutters to the floor.
So anyhoo, this “lamestream media” “reporter” gets assigned to find out the real meaning of Husk’s last word and begins interviewing people who knew him about it. This is the story he discovers:
In flashback we go to Pretoria in the mid-1980s, where the young Husk is entertaining himself with a porn magazine in his bedroom. His mother calls him into the living room and introduces him to a man called Heater Ptiel, who she says will be guiding him financially and socially (which is odd because Ptiel is only four years older than Husk) using funds from the investment in an emerald mine that she won from her ex-husband in the divorce settlement.
Husk moves to Canada and Ptiel helps L Ron enter the United States illegally where he parties in one college without graduating, then fails to get admitted to another college. Then he begins lying about having impressive degrees from both and, supported by Ptiel starts working at internet startups where his contributions are minimal but enough to vest in stock options that make him even richer.
With his wealth he begins buying other early-stage startups and specifying in the contracts that his title be “founder” even though he founded none of them. He takes credit for everything others do, pushing them to work hard because he actually doesn’t have any of the skills he claims to have.
He marries repeatedly, has numerous affairs, and fathers many children, declaring “my good genes must be perpetuated!” His ex-wives, girlfriends, and children all become estranged from him on account of his erratic and vindictive behavior.
Unsatisfied with the adulation he receives, which is not enough to fill the insatiable hunger for attention created by the empty hole in his life that was never filled with love, he buys the internet and kicks everyone off who says anything besides talking about how great he is. Eventually the entire internet is only used by Husk and five of his most loyal toadies, who use sock puppet accounts to pretend to be the entire population of Earth.
Everyone becomes estranged from him except this handful of sycophants, scammers, and yes men who encourage his isolation and self-destruction in return for access to a portion of his wealth.
Husk has long had plans to establish a self-sustaining colony on Mars where he will be freed from the constraints of 10,000 years of human civilization and progress through social cooperation. Eventually, because not enough people can stand him anymore, he abandons the colony idea and just uses his enormous wealth to build a fabulous mansion on Mars where he lives alone, his only companions AI-powered fembots that attend to all his needs.
After his death, the fembots burn his possessions (a terrible waste of oxygen on Mars, but this doesn’t have to make sense). The camera dollies in for a close up shot of the fire. On top we see the answer to the mystery of Husk’s final word. It is the porno magazine he was “reading” in his bedroom when the path of his life was forever changed by great wealth. The name of the magazine is “Rosebud.”
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The characters and events depicted are fictitious. But if they weren’t fictitious they’d sure seem inspired by the true history of a certain person’s utter fabrication of their qualifications and academic history, wouldn’t they?
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