Well, that blows.

‘Sup net peeps. This is Poe from Brian’s screenplay “The Dog Next Door.” The not-semi finalist for best original screenplay in Final Cut’s 2011 Big Break contest. Bummer, dude.

Anyway, he’s off being all emo in a sunless corner of his office so I’m taking over his blog.

Check this shit out. I want to fill myself with that. Lacey and I were supposed to go to one of these unholy shrines to grease and lard in Ohio but Mom in all her unwisdom moved us to the Dirty Jers. Then bitch totally went without me. I hope she got stains all over that tiered sequin mini she loves so much. God, she can be such a shifty Swifty. (Just Kidding LayLay. -I’d still do ya-) Oh and then weeping boy here goes and writes her out of the second draft. Like, no wonder he didn’t even qualify for the semis, Lacey is love.

Of course who doesn’t want to read something called, “Robots Are Assholes” or the absotively timely, “Heroically Challenged” which is probably, like, another superhero spoof.

Hold on, I want to finish this bowl of sour grapes. Yummers.

OK. I gotta run. Amos is about to pee on our copy of Final Draft. I leave you with this snippet of the not at all award winning “The Dog Next Door.” Please ignore the formatting.

Poe blasts off an epic txt message and flings her phone aside. She goes to hug out her strife on her pillow. Only it’s not her pillow, it’s one of her grandmothers and she’s horrified to learn that it’s stuffed with musty, old pantyhose. She screams and freaks out drawing the attention of her grandmother and mother to the room.

CHLOE: Poe what the hell is going on in here?
POE (crying): Unclean! I’m the unclean!

Poe is frantically scrubbing her body wherever the pillow touched with invisible scrubbers. She looks epileptic.

Chloe: Make sense!

Poe tosses the pillow at her mother who also screams as the musty pantyhose bomb explodes upon her.

And this one featuring Amos.

Int. 204 LINCOLN ST. – GUEST ROOM – Night

Poe awakens to the mournful howl. She grabs her night clothes off her dresser.

Cut to:
Ext. 204 LINCOLN ST. – BACKYARD – night

Poe stomps out to the fence where the howling is loudest. It stops when she gets near. A wet nose sniffs through the hole.

Amos (O.S.): Poe!

Poe (whisper shouting): Yes it’s me! Now stop baying at the moon or whatever. You’re gonna wake everyone up. Including my crazy grandmother.

Amos: Poe. I missed you.

Poe: Not so fast, Marmaduke. I still haven’t made up my mind about you. Sure, last night was a good trick but…

Amos: Trick? I know a trick. Play dead.
Amos, rolls onto his back like he got shot and pretends to be dead. Poe watches this through the hole. Her adorable sensors all go off at once. She brings her hands to her mouth instinctively to Awwww. Amos sits back up again and raises his paw.

Poe: Must cuddle…

Poe stays her cuddling hand.

Amos: This is ‘Shake’

Amos shakes with his right paw but his left leg gives out and he falls this time onto his side.

Poe: Smooth.

Amos doesn’t move.

Poe (CONT’D): Amos? You’re still pretending right?

Amos stirs. His tail flaps and he sits back up.

Amos: Not a pup anymore… my body is weak.

Poe: Stay there, Amos.
Poe fetches the hose again and feeds it through the hole. The dog laps up the water on the other side.

Amos: Thank you, Poe. You are kind.

Poe: That’s just the beginning.
(French accent)
For tonight’s main course we have…

Poe unfolds a napkin with a greasy beef bone inside. There is still meat on the bone. Amos’ ears perk up.

Poe (CONT’D): Meat…
(the best part)
…on a bone.

Poe flings the meat up over the fence. She runs back over to hole to watch as Amos eagerly drags it over to his comfortable place in the shadows to gnaw away at it.

Amos: MEAT!

Poe: And it’s on a bone! That’s, like, dog crack. Not that I’ve ever tried people crack.

Amos (gnawing): Ran roo, row.

Poe: Take your time. Chew slowly. Savor the juices and exotic spices.

Poe puts away the garden hose and recoils it. When she returns to the hole, Amos is no longer there.

Poe (CONT’D): Amos? Where’d you go?

Slurp. Amos licks her eye.

Poe (CONT’D): Gah! What? Gross. I thought we agreed on a no licking through the hole rule.