So, I had a dream. It had nothing to do with racial equality or any other variation, but it had everything to do with Johnny Depp encountering an evil sorcerer/scientist who lives on an island in a parallel reality and creates horrible-looking demons using men that he somehow lures to the island. Yeah, it’s a lot like The Island of Dr. Moreau, but not. I was going to simply detail this dream in the form of a little film script, but I decided to make it another Choose Your Own Film Adventure instead, this time with a few illustrations (which will come later) to accompany the story. Why not?
And yes, this one is much more massive than the last story I wrote. At 28 pages and nearly 20,000 words, I don’t expect people to reach every ending or plot direction, but let’s just say there are plenty of ways to travel through and end this story.
Will a young Johnny Depp put an end to the evil demon creator’s ways, or will he fall victim to his magic and forever stay trapped as a grotesque, miserable and lonely demon (which may be warranted if he did in fact beat his ex-wife)? It’s your choice! In my dream, he gets figuratively fucked by becoming a demon slave for eternity (damn unfortunate), but you have the chance to change J-Depp’s fate right here on Horribly Amazing Films. Will he be the hero who saves the world from certain evil, or will he become one of Evil Island’s many victims?
Remember, simply click on the link to the page associated with each choice, or click the page numbers on the bottom of each page if you like randomness.
Please note: The portrayal of Johnny Depp in this story is entirely fictional and is not based on any fact or perceived facts apart from the roles that he has played in films in the past, and public statements from Johnny himself about his life and work (namely from interviews and his accounts in the oral biography Gonzo: The Life of Hunter S. Thompson). I do not intend to slander, defame or otherwise offend this actor despite the ongoing controversy surrounding his recent divorce with Amber Heard; this is merely a work of parody/satire about Hollywood and the acting profession, with Johnny as the central character.
EXT. EVIL ISLAND – NIGHT
It’s a dreary night. The camera pans right from the dark ocean as violent waves thrash at the air above to a beach made of jagged rocks. Lightning strikes three times. The camera tilts up to a castle-like compound that’s oddly shaped like a modern research and development center, complete with a bright green neon sign that reads “EVIL ISLAND RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT CENTER” over the door entrance with automatic sliding doors that greet no one.
INT. EVIL ISLAND R&D CENTER
The camera pans down the bright fluorescent-lit hallway toward the bowels of the R&D center, as the storm outside quiets. At the end of the hall lies a large cave. Water is heard dripping from stalactites above as we move toward a man in a lab coat sitting at a desk, a solemn blue light glowing over him. He laughs maniacally. Moans are heard from his many demon-man slaves off-screen.
When the camera moves over the man’s shoulder, he looks back at us, breaking the fourth wall. This is the evil DR. PONT DU LOC, with his old jagged teeth to match the old jagged rocks outside, and an infinitely wrinkled face that shows his thousand years of age, resembling many folds of roast beef, and eyes so yellow and glaring that they could blind the sun if it had eyes of its own. His laugh speaks of a thousand evils, however much a single evil is. Sitting on his desk is a magic hologram of a seedy bar, with the profile of a young Johnny Depp sitting there, drinking a short glass of Wild Turkey on the rocks. The moans of the mystery slaves mix with his terrible laughter.
DR. PONT DU LOC
Yes. The perfect addition for my
collection of evil demon slaves:
INT. SHITTY BAR – NIGHT
Johnny Depp, appearing to be around 25 or so, sits at the bar and finishes his third glass of Wild Turkey for the night. The bartender comes by and asks if he’d like another. Johnny looks down at the glass and:
a. Asks for one more (continue on this page)
b. Wonders why he feels younger (page 2)
c. Ignores the question and drones on and on about how much he actually hates the show 21 Jump Street (page 3)
d. Tells the bartender to go fuck himself and hits on the woman next to him (page 4)
a. Asks for one more
He looks up at the bartender with pitiful youthful eyes that are on the verge of tears and asks for another glass.
The bartender complies and gets him another. When he starts on it, he winds up drinking it in one swig because he’s extremely depressed, and turns to the woman next to him who smiles at him with perfect nicotine-stained teeth. For some reason this makes Johnny feel more depressed, and he decides to walk home for the night.
He rises from the bar, leaving a tab and no tip because he thinks the bartender is gay for him, and he leaves the place.
EXT. LAME RAINY CHICAGO STREET
Johnny walks to his apartment, feeling like he used to own about five mansions and an island but not knowing what happened to them, and this further sinks him into depression and confusion. He contemplates buying some liquor at the store nearby, but thinks it might be better if he just goes home, eats some chips, and passes out on the floor. He also doesn’t mind the romantic idea of falling asleep in the middle of the street while it’s raining, as it seems like something a desperate character of his might do. Inevitably, he:
a. Walks to the liquor store to get a bottle of Malort
Johnny has developed an unusual taste for Malort, having lived in Chicago for as long as he can remember although he could swear he used to live in LA. So, he walks to the nearby liquor store on Clark Street and walks inside.
INT. CLARK STREET LIQUOR STORE
He grabs a bottle of Malort off the shelf, only to turn around and find himself facing the barrel of a shotgun in the hands of the Indian CLERK.
(half-drunk and wobbling slightly
like Captain Sparrow, Raoul Duke
and 70% of other J-Depp characters)
Whoa. That’s a big gun.
Where’d you get that, man?
I got it from beneath the cash register.
Put the Malort back. That drink is too foul to sell.
Like grapefruit and gasoline. Makes no sense.
In fact, I make it illegal to touch in the store now.
So please put back.
(wobbling back and forth some more)
What’s with the hostility, amigo?
He holds his bottle up.
(stretching his lips down and fake-scowling)
Now, look here, hombre.
This drink, it is the drink of mens. Er, men.
It is the finest drink in the land of, er, Chicago,
and you will sell me this foul gold at once!
The clerk shakes his head, wondering why Johnny keeps calling him Mexican things when neither of them is Mexican. He puts the barrel up to Johnny’s forehead. As Johnny gives scowls some more and wobbles profusely, the clerk sees a vision of Johnny working with a man named Tim Burton in the future, pumping out subpar movie after subpar movie, and the grimness of this future inspires him to pull the trigger.
A cloud of brain matter, bone, flesh and blood spreads in the air, coating all of the liquor bottles in the aisle. The clerk backs up in disgust, wiping the blowback off of his face. He calls 9-1-1, and doesn’t get arrested because he did, in fact, make Malort illegal to touch in the store, an offense that is considered near-murderous and which warrants a self-defense argument in court.
Return to the top of the page if you’d like to actually see Johnny go somewhere.