From newsgroups rec.humor.funny Dec 25 2000
<Fade from black to a ship arriving into port. Close-ups of fish being gutted for increased realism.>
Diane Lane: Thank goodness you're back from that non-descript period of time on the sea. I missed you so (She smooches Mark Wahlberg).
Karen Allen: While I, personally, no longer care what fate befalls you, our son here might be happy you have returned.
John C. Reilly: Hey, big guy! How are you compensating for the constant absence of a strong father-figure?
Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio: I'm glad you're back from your voyage. Maybe it would have been possible for you and I to have had some sort of romantic relationship if you weren't so extremely gruff.
George Clooney: I'm quite gruff, all right.
John Hawkes: It's too bad I have no romantic involvement to greet me after my lonely days upon the sea. Times like this remind me of just how blindingly unattractive I am.
<Cut to the interior of the docks.>
Ship Owner: Here is a disappointingly small sum of money. The producers spent more than this on George Clooney's cap.
Mark Wahlberg: But how can I possibly support my wife and myself on such a small pittance?
Ship Owner: Beats me, pal. If you're no good at fishing, maybe you could try your hand at UNSKILLED labor...oh, wait....
<Cut back outside to George Clooney and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio>
George Clooney: (In dreamy voice) Yes, it's good to be a fisherman. You take your teeny boat out onto the endless water and get hounded by numerous birds as you drift past the lighthouse. You look back on the pugnacious illiterates that constitute your crew as they busy themselves with the equipment they'll need damage a fragile marine ecosystem as much as possible.
Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio: It's a good thing you didn't let your utter lack of verbal ability impair your desire to create impromptu poetry.
George Clooney: Yes, despite being quite gruff, I do have a sensitive side.
Scene 2: Interior of a bar. Much revelry is taking place.
John Hawkes: (Sidles up to a suitably unattractive woman) Hello, there. I'm a poor fisherman with nothing whatever to offer a woman. May I make a romantic advance at you?
Rusty Schwimmer: No! Get away from me you hideous cretin! <Pause> Wait, I take it back. I'm in love with you.
John Hawkes: That's great.
Rusty Schwimmer: You are going to die soon, right?
John Hawkes: Oh yes, quite soon.
Rusty Schwimmer: I'm in love with you.
George Clooney: (Stepping up on a chair) All right, listen up. Since the Andrea Gail just returned in disgrace from waters that clearly contain no fish, I've decided she's going right back out again to try to fish some more right now.
His Crew: I'm not so sure that's a good idea.
George Clooney: Listen you worthless, fetid sacks of chunky puss, I'm gruff. And if you don't want to go out on an ill-conceived and patently idiotic fishing expedition, fine! You can all go straight to hell. I'll rope some other poor fools into an untimely but poetic death.
His Crew: All right, when you put it that way, we'll go.
Scene 3: The docks.
Diane Lane: I have a bad feeling about this trip. I really don't think you should go.
Mark Wahlberg: I appreciate the sentiment, dear, really. But the foreshadowing isn't necessary; the promos already gave away the ending.
Scene 4: Out on the sea.
William Fichtner: Skip, I think we should turn back. One of our crewman was impaled on a hook and dragged underwater; another was attacked by a shark while standing in the boat. Plus we've only caught about six fish total. It really appears as though we suck at this fishing thing.
George Clooney: No, instead of heading back, I think we should head way the hell-and-gone out to sea.
His crew: Okay.
Allen Payne: Wait, how could you possibly know there are fish miles from our current location?
George Clooney: Don't listen to him boys, he barely has a speaking role. I hesitate to use the term 'token,' but...
Scene 5: Newsroom
Meteorologist: My god, THREE storms are converging onto one. Their forces will be combined. This could be the PERFECT STORM. Man, a meteorologist could get a huge hard-on from something like this.
Assistant: But you're an ON CAMERA meteorologist. You don't actually know anything about storm formation.
Meteorologist: (Not listening) Yeah! Storm, baby, STORM!!
Scene 6: Back to the sea.
Mark Wahlberg: Well, Skip, I guess we were wrong to be skeptical. We certainly caught a whole lot of fish way out here in the middle of the ocean.
George Clooney: Yes, I think the irony is just about maximized.
John Hawkes: Skip, the ice machine is broken!
George Clooney: Dang it! I knew we shouldn't have stolen one out of the Best Western!
William Fichtner: Skip, I just heard over the radio that the largest storm of our lifetime is forming between us and land.
George Clooney: Well, if we wait out here while it dies down, we'll be out several dollars.
His Crew: Let's push through it!
George Clooney: Okay! Deploy the seemingly-unnecessary-jagged-metal-weights-on-long-chains!
Scene 7: The bar.
Wives: Our husbands are out there in the midst of a giant storm that will soon violently kill them and inter their bodies in the unforgiving sea. How could you allow this to happen!
Boss: Hey, that's the game.
Wives: You really have poor interpersonal skills, haven't you?
Boss: Yes. Yes I have.
Scene 8: The sea again:
Mark Wahlberg: I have a bad feeling about this, Skip. The sea is looking especially realistic tonight.
George Clooney: Yes, the animators spent over a year on it.
<Just then, a seemingly-unnecessary-jagged-metal-weight breaks through the wheelhouse window, a crewman falls overboard, and the ship's antennae snap off like twigs.>
George Clooney: Who'd have thought the worst storm in recent history would be so dangerous to those who are smack in the middle of it. Sorry about this, guys. Mea Culpa.
Scene 9: The rescue chopper.
Rescue pilot #1: (Leaving the sailing vessel) We sure saved those leisure-class plutocrats from the poetic justice they had coming, didn't we?
Rescue pilot #2: We sure did... Uh-oh, the chopper's out of fuel!
Rescue pilot #1: This thing requires FUEL. Dang!
Rescue pilot #2: Quick, there's the mid-flight refueling plane!
Rescue pilot #1: MID-FLIGHT refueling?? That sounds way too hard. Let's just scuttle this multi-million dollar piece of government equipment and swim to the rescue boat. Notify the Andrea Gail that she is royally boned.
Scene 10: Back on the sea.
George Clooney: Now that it's clearly too late, let's turn around. (Boat turns)
Mark Wahlberg: Oh no, a giant wave suitable for a promotional poster!
George Clooney: Watch out, it's cresting!
Mark Wahlberg: How is that possible; we're nowhere near shore. You see, a wave won't crest unless its wave pattern is interrupted from underneath by....
<The boat is flipped like a sausage patty. All crew members except George Clooney and Mark Wahlberg die bravely.>
George Clooney: (Gasping in a small pocket of air) Sorry about bringing your to life to such a senseless and premature end.
Mark Wahlberg: Hey, don't worry about it.
George Clooney: Let's get out of here.
<Mark Wahlberg swims to the surface where he thinks poetic thoughts about his true love replete with superimposition of her on the waves behind him before he is swallowed by the vast, indifferent sea. George Clooney, apparently wanting nothing to do with this cheesiness, swims back into the wheelhouse and quietly drowns.>
Scene 11: On the docks:
Diane Lane: It's such as shame my true love died. Sometimes I hear his last thoughts as I drift off to sleep at night.
Janet Wright: What, are you trying to convince me you had some sort of telepathic connection to him? Yeah, right. Where did you go to school?
Diane Lane: Hey, I'm not the one who raised a son who couldn't get a real job!
Janet Wright: Don't take that tone with me, young lady!!