Chapter 1

                                  "The Art of Being John Lone"

              Directed and produced by John Lone and the Cohen Brothers (though less so)
                Original concept by John Lone
                Written by James, Cowritten by Magus

       We see the inside of a bath-house. Panning shot of Christina Aguilera plucking nose hairs out with a tweezer in front of a mirror. Then the door slides open, and a man in a ninja costume can be seen entering the bath-house. It is John Lone; Number 1 guy in the whole world. Wordlessly, he stalks toward his prey, pausing to admire himself in a mirror in the hall. He closes in on Aguilera, and she turns around, startled, as he addresses her in a dignified, world-weary tone.

Lone: "So its you. The whore with the face of Jimmy Carter, and the voice of a chipmunk."

John Lone's eyes narrow to slits as he raises his sword menacingly. Christina screams as Lone slices her in half. As both halves fall, we see that there is nothing inside her skull except a pepsi ad. John Lone laughs psychotically as the blood pools around his feet.

Lone: "Let this be a lesson to you. I won't take any fortune cookie bullshit from you or any other motherless fuck that gets between me and my work!"

The next morning: Cut scene to a busy New York intersection. John Lone stands on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to change. He is wearing a black suit and tie with a gray overcoat draped over his shoulders, the sleeves hanging in the wind. With a slight sigh of exasperation, John Lone removes his $600 shades to see a flock of reporters and obnoxiously American policemen, among who are Mickey Rourke, Bruce Willis, and Chris Tucker. As they near him, Lone cooly and offhandedly lights a cigarette with a burning dollar bill.

Mickey Rourke: "Do you know anything about the Chinese Triad Gang? Your the ringleader...spill it!"

Bruce Willis: "Can I have your autograph Mr. Lone?"

Lone to Willis: "Call me Emperor Lone!"

Lone autographs Willis' forehead with an exacto knife, so quickly that all that can be seen is a flurry of hands and blood. Willis collapses with a grateful smile, and eyes that are slightly out of focus.

Chris Tucker exclaims: "Whamma yo mamma!"

With this obscure bit of blacksploitation drivel, Chris pulls his gun on Lone.

Lone: "You Americans are so funny. But not in the good haha way. And now look at this. You've made me late for my daily brunch with the Pope. Now I am peeved."

So saying, John Lone pulls out two uzis, and as the paragon of coolness that he is, opens fire with eyes only slightly squinted and cigarette jutting from his lips. He immediately kills all the reporters with his first strafe, and then turns his guns on Mickey Rourke, who is still fumbling with his holster. Lone's bullets chew up Mickey's kneecaps. John Lone then reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a Chinese drug lord's severed head.

Lone: "When you get to hell, tell them John sent you!"

Says Lone as he bites the ear off the head, and throws it at Mickey. The head explodes, effectively ending Rourke's film career...again. Chris Tucker's hands shake as John Lone walks towards him, stepping on Bruce Willis' bald head in the meantime. He then tosses the uzis in opposite directions as he gazes at Tucker with his typical aloofness.

Lone: "I don't need my custom made John Lone Super Deluxe Uzi's TM. to destroy a bed-wetting Chris Rock wannabe, threat to the civil rights movement, fast talking stereotypical black guy like you."

Tucker: "Now I KNOW you didn't just call me a Chris Rock wannabe! Tell me if you understand the words coming out of my mouth."

Then, as if having a nervous spasm (and who wouldn't in front of John Lone) he launches once again into endless repetitions of "Whamma yo mamma!"

Lone: "Repeating one-liners from Rush Hour can't save you now fool."

Lone walks toward Tucker, who is still spasming, and waves his hand left and right. His eyes widen, and using his amazing telepathic abilities he uses Tucker's own tiny brain against him.

Lone: "Sacrifice yourself to me. You are out of gas..."

Tucker looks at his watch, and see a psychically induced image of a gas gauge that looks like his mouth. The range goes from "stupid line" to "absurdly long rant." The indicator points to "stupid line".

Tucker: "Thanks Emperor Whamma Yo Mamma. I'd better fill up."

Tucker hops onto a police moped with a name plate that has the name "Rock" crossed out and "Tucker" scribbled above it. He drives into a nearby gas station/fireworks factory//military armory at full speed. As the building explodes, we see Tucker's decapitated flaming head flying in the air while screaming girlishly. Tuckers head is caught expertly by John Lone, who extinguishes his cigarette in Tucker's right eye.

Lone: "This bores me. Butler, it is time to go back to my mansion since I've already missed Brunch."

Former President Gerald Ford pops out of a manhole wearing a butler's suit.

Ford: "Sir, the limo is waiting for you."

Lone and Ford walk to a black limo with a hot tub in the back and drive to his thirteen story, ultra snobby, private mansion. Cut scene to Lone's backyard where we can see a large hedge maze where the Grim Reaper is wandering hopelessly about."

Grim Reaper: "Can't...find...way...out...of...hedge...maze...Bin Laden...going...to...kick...any...minute...must...be...there!"

We see John Lone dressed in a World War 2 Chinese general's uniform with tall riding boots. He is aiming a hunting rifle in the air.

Lone: "Pull!"

Gerald Ford pulls a lever that is attached to a huge machine with a large rubber band in the back. Sitting in front of the band is a Grade-A Saigon whore. The band lashes out and the whore is thrown violently into the air. John Lone fires with accuracy and the whore shatters like a red, bloody, intestines filled clay pigeon. Lone smiles and turns to Gerald Ford.

Lone: "She was head over heels last night too."

Lone's maid, Queen Elizabeth, is strewn with blood and innards while holding a tray with a glass of champagne on it.

Elizabeth, plucking an eyeball out of the Champagne: "Very good sir."

With a slightly vapid giggle, another Saigon whore sidles nearer to John Lone, showing off her cleavage to all concerned.

Saigon whore: "What are you doing?"

Lone: "Just practicing my skeet. Wait for me upstairs."

He grabs her ass through her tight black cocktail dress as she wanders back into the mansion.

Lone to Ford: "Load her up tomorrow. Pull!"

Ford pulls the lever again, launching another Saigon whore into the air, like a human disk, she flips head over heels, again and again. John lets her fly nearly two miles away before taking out a small pocket mirror. After briefly admiring himself in it, he uses it to aim his rifle over his shoulder and pulls the trigger. The flying hooker explodes in a blinding splatter of blood and guts over a tiny, oppressed Chinese village that had failed to pay righteous tribute to John Lone. John Lone swirls his champagne.

Lone: "Let them know that my displeasure is as fierce as the great Chinese Dragon's breath. Like a fly's bite on an elephant's ass, these peasants annoy me. Lets see them clean THAT out of their sheets. Pull!"

And so the day went on...

But little does John Lone know (he would have, but he was tipsy), the villagers have begged Jackie Chan, and his horrible accent, to help save them from John Lone's daily prostitute splatterings over the village common. Cut scene to John Lone sitting upright in his bed smoking three cigarettes at once, and handing one of them to be shared by two Saigon whores, also in his bed. Naked, he gets out of bed to fix his hair in the bathroom mirror. Cut scene to shot of John Lone's ass. Jackie Chan abruptly crashes through one of the five windows in Lone's room. John Lone puts on his pants and 3 piece suit with lightning speed.

Chan: "You are bad man. Whores, not for shooting! Very bad. I stop you!"

Lone squinting, his eyes in a puzzled look: "What?"

Chan: "I say 'gain. You muss be stopped!"

Lone: "Speak English you twitty Hong Kong action star!"

Chan takes out an English-Chinese dictionary and spits out wads of cotton in his mouth: "I'll kick your ass!"

Lone: "Very well then. Take my coat Butler"

Gerald Ford pops out of John Lones bed (don't ask) and takes his coat, just as Jackie Chan does a flying kick from twenty feet away. Lone stands still, feeling sorry for Chan, and he lets Jackie kick him. Any normal man would have been mildly injured by Chan's kick, but John Lone is no ordinary man...he is John Lone. Lone is pushed back a step with only a slight reddening of his skin and no loss of composure. John Lone draws himself into attack position and launches into a beautiful dance of punches and kicks, which narrowly miss Jackie Chan, who is using the furniture and various jumps and flips to escape Lone's merciless fists of vengefulness.

Lone: "Get back here and fight me you cowardly son of a Saigon whore and a pot bellied pig!"

Chan: "I know I am, but what are you? Oops, my bad English."

Squinting slightly, Jackie Chan pulls out a book of his lines from "Rush Hour" and thumbs through it eagerly from his position perched on the top of Lone's massive dresser.

Chan: "Weigh! Must find good line!"

Feeling a slight pressure on his head, Jackie's eyes look up comically to see a bobbing foot in a Gucci loafer. Lone is sitting, perfectly balanced on Chan's head, sipping champagne and looking refined while thumbing through the Bible.

Lone to Chan: "I wrote this you know."