Britney Spears vs. The Spice Girls |
An SGDVD production By Oliver Mulvey |
(INT: Britney's bedroom. Britney lies in her bed, asleep. Her cousin lies next to her. He wakes up and tries to wake her.) Cousin: Hey, Britney, wake up. You have to go to work in a minute and I want another quickie before you go. Britney (Waking up): Like, err, sure, like, whatever, dude. Tee Hee. Cousin: By the way, Brit, what are you supposed to be doing today? Britney: I, like, err, dunno, man. Cousin: Well, hadn't you better ask your manager? Britney: Yeah, like, sure, man. (She rolls over. We can now see that there is another figure in the bed. It belongs to her manager, an ugly man in his fifties.) Britney (nudging him): Like, err, Mr. Manager dude. Manager: Goddamit, woman, I just gave you sweet lovin' five minutes ago. You're killing me. Britney: Nah, it's not that, like. I was just, like, wondering what I'm, like, doing today, man. Manager: You're going to the recording studio to lip-synch for another video. Britney: Wow, that's like, cool, man. Manager: I hear that the Spice Girls will be in the studio at the same time, recording some stupid song. (He thinks for a moment.) Say, I wonder if they need a manager… or a lover… or both. (INT: Recording studio, later that day. The Spice Girls are present. They are hanging around waiting for the recording to start.) Scary: Hey, is that girl, Britney Spears, going to be here today? I hear that she's pretty famous. Baby: Tee Hee. Duh. Ginger: She's a complete slut. She's posed for filthy pictures and she sleeps with anything in trousers. Sporty (wearing trousers): Hey, did you say anything in trousers? Ginger: Shut up! Posh: Hey, Ginger, you're hardly in a position to insult her. It's not as if you've never had dirty pictures taken. Ginger: Shut up, bitch. Posh: Screw you, whore. (Posh and Ginger leap at each other, attacking viciously with fingernails and teeth. They are separated by Scary.) Scary: Stop that, you two. We can't make a video if you're both bruised and bloody. (She surreptitiously hides several puncture marks on her arms.) (Britney enters the studio. She already has her makeup on.) Britney: Hey, it's, like, wow, the Spice Girls, man. Posh (incredulous): Is that Britney? Scary: I think so. Ginger: My God, she looks even worse than us. Sporty: I don't know. I think she looks pretty hot. (She notices that the others are staring at her.) Sporty: What? It is rather hot in here. Maybe she'd feel better if she took those clothes off. (The others are still staring at her.) Sporty: What? What did I say? Posh: Look, Mel, you've really got to stop hitting on women. Sporty: What? I never… Posh: I'm not angry. It's just that it makes us look bad. Sporty: How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not strai… damn, I mean I'm not gay. (A sly look crosses her face.) Besides, there aren't any reporters here. (INT: Recording Studio. A few hours later. The Spice Girls and Britney have finished recording their videos.) Sporty: Hey, Britney, it must be really lonely working on your own in this business. Britney: Tee Hee. Like, yeah, man. Sporty: You must get lonely at night. Britney: Nah, there's, like, my cousin and, like, my manager. Sporty: But you must miss having a female presence in your life. Britney: Like, err, whatever. Sporty: Say, why don't you come back to my place after this? Britney: Sure. I'll just go and, err, take off my, like, makeup. (Britney goes into her dressing room. Loud scraping noises can be heard coming from within.) Scary: I don't think that poor girl understands what she's just agreed to. Ginger: Do you think we should warn her? Posh: Why bother? She's not worth it. (Britney comes out of her dressing room without her makeup on. Sporty dashes out of the studio, screaming and trying not to vomit.) Britney: Wow, I, like, wonder what was up with, err, her, man. Say, err, Posh, can I, like, ask you something? Posh: Sure. Fire away. (Britney goes over to Posh and whispers something in her ear. Posh punches Britney hard, sending her sprawling to the ground.) Posh: Of course they're real, you ignorant cow! Who do you think I am? Ginger? Ginger: Piss off, you bitch. (Meanwhile, Britney has picked herself up and is now talking to Baby.) Britney: Tee hee. Baby: Tee hee. Duh. Britney: Duh. Baby: Tee Hee. Britney: Tee Hee. Baby (furious): DUH! (She brings her fist around in a punch that loosens a few more of Britney's teeth.) Scary: Wow. What did she say, Baby? Baby: Tee hee. Duh. Scary: What a bitch. Let's get out of here. (The Spice Girls dash out of the studio. Unfortunately, Britney seems to have latched onto them. She follows them closely.) Ginger: Goddamit, girl, haven't you got somewhere else to go? Britney: I'm, like, not sure, man. Wait a minute, dude, what about the, like mall? Yeah, mall, mall, MALL, MALL! Ginger: That's a good girl. Run along now. Britney: NOOO! Come to the, like, mall, with me, dudes. I've never had any, like, friends, before. Posh: The mall? That's OK with… Ginger (interrupting): Shut it, you dumb bitch. Don't you see? If we play along with her now, we'll never get rid of her. Posh: OK. If you're so smart, then tell me how we get rid of her. Ginger: Why don't we sing? That always gets rid of people. (The Spice Girls launch into Wannabe, screeching at the top of their lungs {well, apart from Posh, who just lip-synchs}. However, far from running away in horror, Britney grins and even starts to dance. Bewildered, the Spice Girls stop singing.) Scary: What the hell? Posh: That's never happened before. Ginger (to Britney): Are you OK? Can you hear us? Shall we sing louder? Britney: Yeah! That song's, like, cool, man. Posh: Oh My God. Ginger: Can it be? Sporty: She's actually one of our… Scary: Fans? Posh: Wait a moment. Aren't all our fans brain-dead zombies? How could somebody like that break into the music industry? (She thinks for a moment.) Hang on, how did we break into the music industry? Sporty: Ugh. I can't believe that we've been talking to one of our fans. Ginger: It makes me want to wash myself clean of her touch. Sporty: Hey, can I watch? Ginger: Piss off. Britney: Hey, now that you've, like, sung for me, why don't I, like, sing for, erm, you? Posh: No, for the love of God, no! (It's too late. Britney starts singing. The Spice Girls' faces contort in agony.) Britney (singing/howling): My loneliness is killin me (and I) I must confess I still believe (still believe) When I'm not with you I lose my mind give me a sign, hit me baby one more time! (On cue, Baby smashes Britney in the face. Britney flies to the floor, but continues singing.) (Every time Britney sings 'hit me baby one more time!' Baby unleashes some further act of violence upon her. By the end of the song, Britney is a shattered wreck. For her finale, Baby reaches down and pulls Britney's head off her shoulders.) Posh: Wow. I guess we finally found a use for baby. Baby: Tee Hee. Duh. Ginger: I just can't believe that we finally met somebody worse than us. Sporty: I just can't believe that we actually survived this story. THE END |
This story is based on an original idea by Cloud Volpe. For more… Sporty: Wait a minute, I've just figured it out. Ginger: Figured what out? Sporty: The credits start rolling, then they freeze and it cuts to us to show us dying violent deaths. Ginger: When's this going to happen? Sporty: Any moment now. (Nothing happens.) Ginger: I'm waiting. Posh: I think I'm still alive. (Suddenly… Nothing happens.) Sporty: Oh well, forget I said anything. THE END (NO, REALLY.) |
This story is based on an original idea by Cloud Volpe. For more similar stories by Cloud (and myself) go to http://www.dangeruniversity.net/sgdvd/index.html |
Come on, admit it. It was funny. You know it was. Seriously, you should drop by that site. It's called Spice Girls Die Violent Deaths, and it is hilarious. Cloud, and Oliver are really talented writers. I even wrote one. It's not nearly as good as theirs, but it's alright. Warning: If you are a severe Spice Girls fan who can't take a joke, you might wanna steer clear.
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