CHARACTERS

THE RESISTANCE(=V/I):

PHILLY G: Engineer, Resistance leader, and overall BAMF

M.C. LUC JARDIE: The 'big boss'. Mathematician/Philosopher/Chemist/aspiring rapper.

SEXY JARDIE: M.C.'s younger brother. He might be a pilot or something. I don't know. He's a rebel without a cause, drifting through life confused about morality and his place in the world, he drinks a lot and smokes a lot and sleeps with a lot of women... all his role models are dead… deadhe's kind of depressed, you guys.

FELIX: Nobody gives a fuck.

MATHILDE: MILF that gets shit done.

BISON and MASK: Apparently the only ones in the whole goddamn movement who know what a CODE NAME is.

THE GERMANS:

People that suck.

OTHERS:

COLONEL PASSY: A real actual person, you guys. In like, real actual history. Oh. My. God.

GENERAL DE GAULLE: Well, I don't know who this is. Probably no one important.


INT. COLONEL PASSY'S OFFICE

About halfway through the MOVIE. PHILLY G. and M.C. have risked LIFE and LIMB to get to England, in the hopes of convincing the ENGLISHMEN to help them out. Help them out. Yeah, you've gotta help me out. Don't put me on the backburner. The backburner.

COLONEL PASSY
We are concerned about the—effectiveness—of the French Resistance.

PHILLY G
Aw come on, man.

COLONEL PASSY
Don't 'come on, man' me.

PHILLY G
We do stuff.

COLONEL PANSY
Like bloody hell you do.

M.C. LUC JARDIE
You know it's true.

COLONEL PANSY
What kind of stuff?

PHILLY G
Uh—Resistance stuff.

M.C. LUC JARDIE
Cool Resistance stuff.

PHILLY G
Sweet Resistance stuff.

M.C. LUC JARDIE
Sexy Resistance stuff.

PHILLY G
Low Resistance stuff. High Resistance stuff.

M.C.
No.

COLONEL P.
What exactly have you managed to accomplish during this movie?

PHILLY G
I escaped from the Gestapo Headquarters in Paris. I shanked a guy. With a knife. IN THE THROAT. Then I found the bastard that turned me in—and I THROTTLED him.

COLONEL P.
That doesn't count.

PHILLY G
Dammit.

M.C. and PHILLY G. think.

M.C.
We…delivered…a radio?

PHILLY G
DAMN STRAIGHT

M.C.
WHAT NOW

COLONEL P. continues to look unimpressed.

PHILLY G
You know how we could cause some real shit, sir?

COLONEL P. looks politely interested.

PHILLY G
If we had some fuckin' machine guns!

M.C.
DAMN STRAIGHT

PHILLY G
A couple of those motherfuckin' tanks.

M.C.
Yeah, boy.

SICK BEAT starts.

M.C.
(beatboxing)

PHILLY G
(rapping)
Tearin' up the neighborhood, with some grenades.

M.C.
With my homies.

PHILLY G
Shootin' up the Champs-Élysées.

M.C.
With my girls.

PHILLY G
The club can't even handle me right now.

Pause.

COLONEL P.
Unfortunately, we can't give you anything useful.

PHILLY G
Aw…

COLONEL P.
But we can provide your agents with better radios for communication—

M.C.
(shaking COLONEL)
GODDAMMIT BITCH WE'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR FUCKING RADIOS

COLONEL P.
(offended)
Excuse me, good sir.

M.C. looks ashamed.

COLONEL P.
Watch your caps.

M.C.
Sorry. (whispering) We're drowning in your fucking radios, bitch!

PHILLY G
We have so many fucking radios, we're just throwing them at the Nazis now.

COLONEL P.
Well, is it helping?

EXT. MARSEILLES – DAY

German soldier walks down the street.
BAM. He gets hit in the head by a radio.

BACK TO SCENE:

PHILLY G
(shrugs)
Well, it's better than the stink spray.


With sincere apologies to J.P. Melville.