Before I talk to you about my groundbreaking new idea, I have a few confessions to make. Firstly, I admit that part of my motivation for the following endeavour is my strong sense of justice. Translation: I like seeing bad things happen to bad people, especially when it is a direct result of their evil deeds. One vision of a perfect world is one ruled by karma: live life in a bad way, you life will turn out bad. Of course, it isn’t all just schadenfreude - after all, there is a flipside to karma. I love seeing good things happen to good people, especially when those people remind me of me.
My second confession is far more dramatic: deep down, under this cold, cynical exterior, I am a romantic. I, AllWalker, am just a great big softy. It might not match other people’s definition of romantic; after all, I try to be logical and scientific about it. Love is not the strongest force in the universe. Love is not all you need. Love does not equal happiness, and happiness is overrated anyway. But love is still pretty damn good - take it where you can get it, I always say.
So we take these two shocking revelations and put them together. Justice plus romance. This straight away tells you something else about me:
I hate it when the jerk gets the girl.
We’ve all seen it happen. Some selfish, unemployed tosser bags the dream girl despite what appears to be his constant attempts to drive her away - he is rude, he’s a moocher, it is clear he’s only interested in sex, he drinks, smokes, gambles and tries to summon Satan on weekends using the blood of her beloved childhood puppy.
I don’t like this situation. I don’t like it at all.
So it got me thinking, analysing the circumstances, computing the variables. I started to think: what conditions are required so that the good guys, the guys who aren’t lucky in love, the nerds, the geeks, the D&D enthusiasts, the wimps, the loners and the weirdos win the hearts of the dream girls when their competition includes the thugs, the bullies, the athletic, the good-looking and the charming?
Where else but Hollywood?
Now, I don’t mean Hollywood as in the physical destination, where celebrities wander about without scripts and special effects, also known as the ‘Real World’. Here, romance seems to involve marriage after a month of dating, pumping out as many children as possible while giving them names like Opossum and Catastrophe, divorce, repeat. No, I’m talking about a place with a much more, shall we say, karmic dating scene.
The land of blockbuster movies is this place. These movies have given us all vital lessons in the art of winning over the hot girls. Let us start in high school. In high school, the caste structure is too rigid - the strawman jocks will always be dating the strawman cheerleaders, much to the frustration of the strawman nerds. A severe problem for the nerds, one which may never be overcome. That is, until the world needs saving.
Robot uprising. Alien invasion. Impending nuclear war. Whatever the situation, the nerd and his love interest will be thrown into the middle of it. Now, the love interest is more than the other cheerleaders; she is strong, both mentally and physically, brave, have a lot of attitude yet be sort of sweet at the same time. This is all good stuff, as the nerd will need her to help avert disaster. Which they will. While they are doing that, the sexual tension rises, culminating in True Love™ when everything is safe.
The nerd doesn’t save the world and get the girl. He saves the world to get the girl.
Small problem, you say. That is fiction, dramatic lies sold for profit. The world doesn’t work that way.
Which brings me to the first objective of the AllWalker Institute for the Advancement of Hollywood Romance: to make disaster flicks real. With enough money, facilities and scientific talent, the Institute will begin developing advanced technologies, possibly for the military. Robotics. AI. Bioengineered killer skunks. We sell to whoever will buy, channelling profits back into research.
Now here is the beauty of the plan. Every now and then, we conduct experiments near a high school. We get sloppy, ‘accidentally’ overriding any contingencies and safety protocol we have. We will follow the Evil Overlord List, defying each and every item on it. Our airducts will be spacious and plentiful. Our electronics will be stripped of fuses and surge protectors. Our guards will be poorly paid, and fed only tranquillisers. We will never, ever shoot heroes, but we will always shoot at them.
The inevitable happens - disaster. But, some brainy kid will have the solution. He saves the day. Hilarity ensues. Penis ensues. All members of the Institute can go home happy, knowing they have brought a little love to those who deserve it, ie, people who remind me of me.
This is how we level the playing field for the little guy, assuming that he’s up for it. If not, well, then he never would have gotten the girl anyway and besides, point to one teenage male who wouldn’t risk his life for sex.
Hmm. Thought so.
Public perception of the Institute may be adversely affected every time plagued hedgehogs escape our labs, but remember what the people like. Cute kids. Heroes. Happy endings. We will give them these. They will forget our crimes.
Of course, this plan only works for the young. What about the single guys and girls in their twenties and thirties? Doomsday wont get them laid, but Hollywood provides us the answer once again.
The Institute will obtain databases of all people in their twenties and thirties who are either single or engaged to someone they don’t really love. The Institute will also construct secure holding cells, lavishly decorated and comfortable, but from which there can be no escape.
We take two sexually compatible people from our database, carefully selected so that their personalities will clash like drunken swordsmen, and place them in the cells. They argue and bicker, fighting and sabotaging each other with witty remarks and elaborate practical jokes. But over time, they will open up to each other. They will fall in love.
To seal the deal, one of the two is shown pictures of the other one being… intimate with their beloved childhood puppy. Don’t think cuddling, think spooning. Anyway, so the next step is crucial. The pissed off person is allowed to leave - but, unknown to them, a tracking device is implanted in their skull. The other person is held in the cell for, say, long enough for the person on the outside to clean out his or her apartment and head for the airport. They are then released and handed the scanner for the tracking device.
A great sentimental moment occurs when the puppy “lover” races across the city and catches his or her soulmate, just before they board the plan. Cue music and confessions of true love, and there you have it. Partners for life.
As an added bonus, the Institute can secretly film these subjects, which can then be sold as realistic action movies and romcoms. You don’t even need to pay actors. Within a few years, the Institute will have more money than it can handle.
So, who out there wants to be a part of the Institute? You will be advancing the cause of love, levelling the playing field in that horrible contest known as romance, and become filthy rich at the same time. I will be accepting donations, so please make the cheques out to AllWalker, or the AllWalker Institute for the Advancement of Hollywood Romance.
Any thoughts/ideas/criticisms?