Petry System Family Wision USA
Petry System Family Wision USATITLE: MOUSE ON THE HORIZON
WORKING TITLE: mOuse tO Orbit
ALT WORKING TITLE: Chiefly Brit.
PITCH: The Mouse That Roared, roars back to orbit, hitching its waggin' to its brightest star.
TAG: Outerspace is very very cold; and very very funny.
TAG: Children these days: They take their own mother to outer space.
TAG: In outer space, Presidents are like extended family members.
TAG: I've never been so high in all my years as President.
TAG: A colder gassier space hotel war.
LOGLINE: Moonlandings passé, the tiny duchy of Gran Fenwijk restarts the space race for international prestige by building the world's first nuclear powered skyhook and space hotel casino; And wins handsdown up. Cf The Mouse That Roared. 1:45 PG
KEYWORDS: securities-exchange, sunday-mornings, ruritania, political, satire, actor-playing-multiple-roles, us-senate, nasa, space-station, space-shuttle, air-force, nuclear-weapons, cold-war, end-of-the-world, destiny, planet-earth, adult-music-redubbed-for-children, nuclear-terrorism, nuclear-winter, marriage, tearjerker, slapstick, comedy, revelations, meteor, ufo, amateur-video-news, international, presidents, detente, world-domination, video-gambling, happy-ending, comeback, sequel
BILLED AS: The Changing Of The History
GENRE: a romantic engineered comedy, PG
DIRECTOR: [Famous Patriarch]
ROLES:
Duchess (Famous Patriarch; double role)
Son (Famous Hot Property Adult Male)
USA Senator's Secretary Waitress Daughter (Famous Hot Property Adult Female)
Copilot second son (Hot New Property Adult Male)
Russian Prime Minister Pudin (double Duchess, portly-plus like 'Ollie')
USA President Horhay J-J Butch (Famous Established Property Female)
Executive angel-transient (Famous Established Property Male; reprise role)
Professor (Classic Choice Property Senior Male)
USA Senator Father (Choice Property Male)
BUDGET: 105 min. medium before big names-- but with 200 all-timers nobody particularly stands out as big-budget....
THE PLOT:
Facing a new financial crisis when secret Russian backing is cut-off, the US-dollar market collapses, Sunday morning teatime, in the Duchy of Gran Fenwijk.
The Professor, inventor of the Q-bomb (electrical Q), borrows phrase from his Duchess praising their Son's daily F-23 practice on the woodshed, for pulling their little country forward to new technological heights unforeseen, to invent his amazingly cheap sky-hook-to-space-orbit launcher: and the first space hotel ... it's real-science, real scenario.
The Duchess and Son convince NASA to launch the Professor's "communicationsing" satellite - 90 tons of Russian aluminum, two, thousand-mile coils of centimeter braid borazine-carbide nanofiber in canisters, a small nuclear power generator, and operation radio-controls - to MEO "Middle Earth Orbit".
And, with their one supersonic F-23 national-defense jet, a prior throw-away bargain from the USA, after its manufacturer lost that contract, their pilots fly up to catch the end of the cable, hang on and swing up to orbit, unload supplies at the construction site, and return ... the nuclear power supplying the pull to keep the orbit in full high swing.
The Professor describes his vision to the Fenwijkian building crew: a 100x20m casino-roulettish plate-wheel spinning upright, 1000 mile altitude over a great circle of the Earth, with light-strips up the red and black spokes and along the moss-green annulus. And the Son flies dozens of workers packed by 2's behind the Copilot seat, who remain in space building Gran Fenwijk's Hotel Gran MEO.
Months go quickly, troubles are handled ... a commercial jet gets in their path, and they abort back to Fenwijk; an incoming cometary dust cloud, and Son diverts and deploys a Sidewinder-X missile to fend, but he's diverted into the path of the International Space Station. Dismissing the effusive Fenwijkian apologies for the demise of the Station; the US Senator is suspicious about ex-orbit-ant [clue-word] fuel costs for the Duchess' Son's F-23, which she explains as con-comit-ant [clue-word] with training an additional pilot.
Son takes-in some small fishing; An applicant hires-on through an online advertisement for a cute spacey waitress in a remote diner, and gets the castle tour ... she's actually the US Senator's staid secretary daughter who takes the head-waitress secret-security-job in her bare-midriff miniskirt outfit. They take her up to the near-completed Hotel Gran MEO. She radio-calls Daddy to let him know what's really up.
Then Son takes the Duchess up to Hotel MEO for the Grand Upening, with the Copilot on her lap as she won't sit behind him and she likes flying, now. They settle in national-hotel-emblemed white-jacket dinner-formals as Maitre-de's; Duchess in nouveau spacer-regalia; the Fenwijkian workers reattired as waiters.
Grand Upening guests arrive, Presidents, Senators, Ambassadors, British Minister of Out-There, by orbit-transfer-vehicles capsules from Space Shuttles. The Waitress discovers a transient attired in formal angel-whites trying his Capitol EXtremes Games coin-tokens in keyholes and eating from the workmen's dinners, who'd been stowaway'ed aboard the OSHA Hotel Inspection Mission with a bag of tokens, and wants to go home (a super cameo role).
The Grand Upening buffet is held in the space-view-surrounded Grand Bouffe Room: Its ceiling vaults to top-dead-center view of the gravity-spinning hotel.
Trouble sparks when Grand Upening party cake flags are found switched by the taste-testing German President, between the Russian and USA cakes, and they stake them on the German's cake, dividing the German icing, east and west, and mock-up nuclear-war over Germany's ignored surrender, posturing massive retaliations, ellipton bombes, new clear-missiles,- developing in the first-ever fork-flung cake-lobbing space-war.
When the Russian and USA President bounce around the room amid flying cake bits, the Duchess attempts to restore the party atmosphere, pulls out her garter pistol, and waving it, orders a cessation of hostilities. Guests restrain her from using a gun in a space, but she blusters a shot at the wall: ALL STOP: It blows-out a 6-in. hole behind the Waitress, and air escaping the hole grabs the hem of her skirt and sucks-on it, with the suckiest sound ever heard. The Son heroically holds her but without leverage: It's caught on burrs outside. He yanks her out of her skirt, which sucks-out the hole with a final belch and floats away in space. Air thinning, hole shrieking, sucking a bluish vortex dancing at her panties; meanwhile, an astropilot restuffs a turkey from the dining cart with bowls and plates, and charges retrograde-- diving turkey-first at his goal-hole, and plugs it-- Touch-down! The hole squeals, the turkey deforms, but stays: APPLAUSE! The Son noticing the waitress he's released from clinging in his arms is panties-bare to the midriff, promptly hides her, begging forgiveness, and proposes ... guests encourage prenuptial agreements, and fashion a golden table cloth into a wedding gown, as the pair join in the first holy space matrimony and waiters roll-out a ready decorated cake.
The Duchess is all grins as she's gotten two-birds with a single stowin'. And amid opening cans of sodas gushing-up foam, the scene closes on-- the transient playing electronic casino games in the background, jack-pots credits with triple Earth-planets, and bouncily exclaims, "There's no, place like, hooomme..." (too bouncy for low gravity).
Epilog: The Duchess closes the bedtime storybook for three little gran'children; and the Royal Son and former-waitress Wife live happily ever after....