Ghost Dad 2

In January of 2003, I sold a script to Focus Features which was a sequel to the Bill Cosby vehicle, Ghost Dad.

When I made this deal, I knew two things:

A. This was a phenomenal script. If it had a flaw, perhaps it was so densely “literary” that it might be hard to translate to the screen, which leads me to …

2.) Due to the political climate at the studios back then, I knew it would never get made.

At that time, I didn’t really care. I had $35,000 in cash and my foot in the door with several Hollywood Bigshots. I was living large and having a hell of a time doing it.

My downfall has been chronicled extensively (see here and here), so I won’t get into that now. But even back then, as coked up as I was, I knew people had to read this script. It’s simply that good.

Not good. Great.

Excellent. Superb. Insert your own superlatives at will. You won’t be over-stating anything. In fact, if you lined up 8 million of them in a row, they still wouldn’t do it justice.

I’m not a boastful person. There are at least five or six writers in the world who are better than me, I freely acknowledge this. But this story, well, I know its excellence is beyond the scope of my talents. It’s a fluke. A bright shining star in a sea of dismal mediocrity. I think it’s trite for people to say that their work has been “touched by the hand of God”, but I see no other way to account for the fact that I’ve created such a masterpiece.

Me, a humble blog writer and purveyor of fart jokes, has equaled or surpassed the life’s work of a Michaelangelo or a Shakespeare. In the realm of mainstream comedy scripts, that is.

I had always planned to release it to the public, somehow, so they could bask in its glory. It seemed selfish that it should be locked up in a vault somewhere, or passed around in manila envelopes to different executives who would whisper in hushed tones about how it was too good for this shitty, undeserving world.

That was their reasoning. They told me that Joe Sixpack simply wasn’t worthy of an experience like this.

The masses want comfort food. Crème brûlée? “No thanks, just ketchup on mine!” they would say.

Anyway, once their option expired, after five years, I was just gonna self-publish it. Put it on the internet. Let people read it, love it. Maybe make their own, home-brewed versions with their camcorders. I basically predicted the whole YouTube phenomenon in its entirety, only I thought it would be structured around my script.

January, 2008 came and went.

A lot had changed for me in those five years. I got married, moved to the suburbs, had some kids of my own.

Suddenly, Ghost Dad’s exploits as an invincible pedophile who could choose when and where to apparate, eluding capture by the authorities and finally finding acceptance in a foreign land, while still uproariously funny, were now subject to certain concerns of morality that I hadn’t been burdened with back then. Plus, the whole Michael Jackson thing basically stole a lot of my thunder.

So, I pussed out. I admit it.

In a way, it kinda makes it all the more special to me. It’s something wonderful that I’ve shared with but a handful of people in the whole world. Like taking a peak at the Ark of the Covenant or something. This way I know it can never be ruined by some greedy corporate fat cats.

There will be no “Ghost Dad 2 Whopper” or Elliot Hopper action figures.

It’s pure and beautiful.

No hacky hired gun is gonna come in to polish it up (as if that were possible) or trim it down from its original 439 pages.

It sits in my desk. Perfect. The way God wrote it.

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15 comments

  1. I’ve actually got a script like that, too. I’m not going to say that mine is better than yours, because I hate to see you cry when you lose, so I’ll compromise and just say that mine is definitely better than yours.

    Mine is a sequel to the 1996 box office monster mega-hit Bio-Dome. I wrote the whole thing in one crystal meth-fueled weekend by dipping my penis in Pace Thick & Chunky picante sauce (made right in San Antonio since 1947 by folks who know what salsa should taste like) and then slathering it all over a banner that had been created by the cheer squad down at the local high school for their football team’s playoff game the next Friday night. The results were pretty much illegible, but I still managed to get both Pauly Shore and Stephen Baldwin attached (to my penis, not the movie).

    I would’ve made millions off of the thing (the movie, not my penis), but apparently you’re not allowed to do drugs, expose yourself, or have sexual relations with a jar of salsa within a certain distance of the local high school, especially if you are already a registered sex offender.

    But I tell ya, when I get out of jail, watch out for Bio-Dome 2: Ouch! This Salsa Really Burns the Tip of my Wang!

  2. Know what burns the tip of my wang? Lying liars and the lies that make them liars. I don’t think this story is true at all. If you are going to type words, you should never type ones that hurt and lie. Plus, why does the dad have to be black and have kids just because he is Bill Cosby? That’s hompohobic!

  3. GOD DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!

    I said “hompohobic” when what I meant to say was “hemophiliac”.

    keep it comin’, blood.

  4. And all along I thought it was going to end with you having a nice conversation with Bill over some chocolate Jello Pudding Pops… :||

  5. Eric, your script sounds strikingly similar to mine that I wrote 7 years ago. It’s entitled “Kids Say The Darndest Things When I’m Molesting Them In My Ice Cream Truck”. It’s pretty much the same story except in my script, Bill’s not a ghost who can materialize anywhere he chooses. He’s a Ice Cream Man who trolls through many different states looking for innocent victims. I never got as far as you did with the hollywood executives, but my Tivo repairman read it and said it was perfect except for the parts where Bill’s character murders the victim’s entire families and then waits for the kid’s to get home from school.

    I’m not saying that I think you stole my idea, just that I believe we are two like-minded individuals who should collaborate on a future Bill Cosby-as-a-molester script. With our 2 brilliant minds working together, we would be unstoppable(much like Bill’s character in the movie, AND Michael Jackson in real life)!!

    I’ve even got a good title for it, “Bill: Portrait Of A Child Raper”

  6. Real quick: hi Meems, good to see you above ground breathing. Keep fightin girl. Listen, Tivo repairman is right. *Why* would Bill’s character wait for the children to get home from school after he has murdered the parents, when he has a perfectly good ice cream truck waiting out in the driveway? Wouldn’t he just go collect the children from school? Tootin on the tooty horn? Get him sucking on a creamsicle. Remember he’s going to be the raper who’s impossible not to love. Make sure he’s wearing a molestor sweater. *jolt* I do feel God indeed working these miracles, don’t you? I feel his presence. I hear his voice, it just whispered to me that “Ice Cream Man” by Van Halen should be the song, only God could have come up with something that umambiguous. And don’t you dare tell God Van Halen is too white, ice cream comes in all flavors, vanilla as well as chocolate, don’t question the great superstar.

  7. It doesn’t make sense Jan, you silly-billy, and it doesn’t matter!

    Listen, people aren’t going to be rolling in the aisle’s over a simple, humorous molestation. In todays world people really have no shock value anymore. You gotta throw in something that’s gonna grab them by their nuts and/or clits and slam ’em up and down in their seat a good number of times. That’s why he senselessly murders their families, because it’s never been done in a Bill Cosby-as-a-molester-movie before. See Jan, that’s why genius’ like me are gonna make the big bucks and start a trendy methamphetamine/strangling prostitutes with my childhood belt habit!

  8. Wow, I wouldn’t mind being grabbed my nuts or clits and slammed up and down a few times. Good for the digestion. So now this Bill-Cosby-as-a-molester-movie sounds like real sick stuff. I’m liking it more and more. Heh, wouldn’t it be sick if we could actually get The Cos to do it!?

    I agree you are truly a genius with no equal. I still believe God must have had a hand in it somewhere though.

    But now strangling prostitutes? That’s definitely God’s work. Let him do it, I feel your talents are too necessary in the film industry to be branching out and I don’t think James Lipton would disagree with me here.

  9. A TRUE STORY: AS A TEEN IN COLLEGE, I MANAGED THE LOUNGE BAR IN A SWANKY HOTEL, SO I COULD PAY YALE.
    BILL COSBY CAME IN, SAT DOWN…ORDERED A GLASS OF WINE. MY STAFF, NOWHERE TO BE FOUND AS USUAL… I POURED HIM THE WINE MYSELF. HE STARED ME UP AN DOWN..LIKE A REAL PERV. WHEN HE WAS ASKED TO PAY!!! FOR THE WINE, I MEAN THE RUDE..”DON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AM, AND YOU SHOULD BOW DOWN STARE!!” I POLITELY..ASKED AGAIN. HE SAID, WHAT? AS I GOT CLOSER, THINKING MAYBE HE DIDN’T HEAR ME… HE INHALED, AND SUCKED HIS BIG FAT CIGAR, AND BLEW THE HUGE BLAST OF SMOKE DIRECTLY, INTENTLY INTO MY FACE,,,AND THEN SMILED!!! I BACKED UP FAST…..

    HE GOT UP AND WENT TO THE BATHROOM…GRABBING ONE OF WAITRESSES ASSES, ALONG THE WAY. WHEN HE CAME BACK, HIS BIG FAT CIGAR WAS IN SITTING IN HIS EXPENSIVE WINE GLASS,,,,,WITH A NOTE. YOU’RE NOT THAT FUNNY BILL,,,, AND, A TAB FOR $1,000 INCLUDING TIP!!!

    FAMILY GUY??? NO IN REAL LIFE,,,,,A REAL PIG!!

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