M is for Horse (If Horse Started With An M)

Steven's Video Game Store Concept:

Mother: Hi, I'm here to get this game for my son. His birthday's coming up.

Cashier: Mm-hm... ma'am, you know this game is rated M, right?

Mother: Yes. Yes, I know. He said that. It's okay.

Cashier: Yeah, but... you know that M stands for Mature. This is for mature people, like myselffffffff. Not your son.

Mother: I... he just wants it. I said it's okay.

Cashier: Mm-hm. Right. Yeah. No, you know this game includes hitting people. Right? Other people. Sometimes, their heads just come clean off. Pow! Head pops right off. And your son, if he plays this? Yeah, he's gonna start doing that. All the time.

Mother: My son is old enough to differentiate fact and fiction, I think. I said it's okay. Please just ring this up.

Cashier: Did you also know this game has you rape and kill hookers?

Mom: But... it's about aliens.

Cashier: Yeah. They're alien hookers. Much worse than regular ones. Alien ones? They're real bad. And he's gonna play this game and then go kill some prostitutes, in all likliness.You don't want that on your conscience, do ya? So I'm just going to put this game right back here, where no one can get it. I can sell you this game about horses, however. They're real nice horses. Gentle. Much better for your young, impressionable son.

(Uncertain, the mother gets the Horsezzzz game instead. Flash forward to the future; the son is riding a horse, when the horse bucks him off; his legs break. Unable to pursue his horse-related passion, he turns to a life of crime; he kills hookers. He knocks people's heads off. This is... his fate.)

ALTERNATE ENDING: (This is changable, but could work better and be easier to film:)

We see the son get the game; he's like 10 or something, clearly too young. He's dissappointed, obviously, but pops it in anyway. We don't see the TV screen, but hear the tutorial being read out loud, as the son reacts:

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to Horsez! To make your horse jump over an obstacle, press A. To have your horse run faster, press B. To have your horse sodomize a hobo you found in the street, press the right trigger. To sodomize the hobo yourself while your horse stands watch, press the left trigger. (Continuing to speak while the son speaks his own line, softer:) To tell your horse to slow down, hit backwards on the analog stick...

SON: This is the best game ever!

We Have Chips

Chris: ...so... writing. How do we... start?

Dave: Well, they say to write what you know. Right? So what do we know?

Chris: ...nobody wants to hear about what we know. We are not that interesting. What the fuck do we do? We watch movies. We make awful jokes.

("Flashback" portion during this:

Chris: This whole movie is basically like beating a dead horse.

Dave: Beating off a dead horse.

Both laugh in that stupid snort thing that we do when we make awful, hardly funny sex-related jokes. I think we all know what that is. It's clear that these two characters are fucking douchebags: basically, us.)

Chris: (continuing previous line) ...and we eat chips.

Dave: There! That's concept, right there. Chips.

Chris: Chips. You think that chips are something we should explore further.

Dave: Sure! Hear me out on this. So there's a guy, right? Let's just... his name is Mike, or something. And he likes chips. Like, he really likes them. A lot. So much that he's actually addicted to them. He cannot stop eating. And it's destroying his friends and family.

(Throughout that line, the "movie" plays; key scenes from this addictive chip masterpiece. What these are can be interpreted loosely; it doesn't really matter, as long as it's a ridiculous take on drug-addiction movies. Requiem for a Dream if it was just stupid as hell.)

Dave: (cont.) So... the movie's all about that addiction, and his recovery. And it can be a family film, or whatever. Get some product placement up in there. It's basically money in the bank.

Chris: ...so... just curious, here... how does one go about curing a chip addiction?

Dave: Well, that's easy.

Chris: Yeah?

Dave: Sandwich.

Chris: (incredulously) Sandwich.

Dave: Well, yeah. You give a guy a sandwich, right? He's gonna eat it. He's gonna be full. He doesn't need another sandwich, he just had one. You give a guy some chips, he's just gonna keep eating 'em until there's none left. This is gold, right here. This is a fucking revolution in screenwriting.

Chris: Alright, you know what? Let's do it. And I won't even take co-credit or anything. This is all your beautiful, pure, loving conception.

Dave: Wait, seriously?

Chris: Of course fucking not!

Dave: (after a pause) ...what if it was about salsa?

Then, there's an explosion. Then, just a dick just in the middle of the screen, hovering there. And both Chris and Dave are dead in the background. Then a dinosaur appears, wearing a pink thong. It giggles. Fade to black.

Not really, though. A quick cut after the last line should be enough to make it a punch... just a ridiculous sound, or music, or something. Anything followed by music tends to be funnier.