This and the last piece I posted were assignments for screenwriting. Sadly, the last one is way longer than 4 pages double spaced, which were the perameters for this assignment, so at 10:30 last night I realized that and wrote this. The prompt was “prostitution”. Enjoy.

                Gerald Schmeltneck was a super genius, and he never got any in high school. And he never got any in college. And he never got any after he moved out of his parent’s house to the city, where he researched biology every single day in a small lab next to a nerd with greasy hair who never showered. It makes sense, because he wasn’t a very attractive guy, and he wasn’t very nice truthfully either. In fact, he thought way too much of himself. But he never got that, so in an attempt to make me, the narrator, and you, the audience, effectively uncomfortable, one night he decided that sulking was getting boring and he decided to bring home a stripper.
                Her name was Sheila, and she was actually a really nice, wholesome girl, who simply had no skills and was completely unable to anything besides take off her clothes and dance provocatively, and hell, she needed to eat so a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Fortunately this night was going to change everything.
                “Welcome to my humble abode,” Said Gerald, welcoming Sheila into his lab and sounding a lot like Dracula.
                Sheila thought he was creepy, but she smiled and came in and took off her coat and pretended to be interested in biology. And then Gerald said, “Well, shall we get on with it then?” in his really creepy voice, to which Sheila replied “hey wait- I’m a stripper, not a whore, there’s actually a difference”. They got into a fight, and Sheila, attempting to storm out of the lab in an offended rage, accidentally fell into a vat of radioactive material that the maintenance people had forgotten to remove earlier that day. Gerald helped her out, and Sheila, who was now glowing (and humming slightly), was scared of going back into the outside world. So Gerald told her he’d take care of her and help her out as long as she looked to him as her corporate boss. For Gerald had a plan. A very special plan.
                So for the next six months, Gerald worked in his lab every day, creating a time machine, a reanimation machine, and other machines dedicated to giving super powers to certain individuals. For Gerald wanted to do what he had done for Sheila to other girls in the sexual services. And for once Gerald was being nice. He would create a squad of girls with incredible powers to fight crime.
                And then, when the machines were ready, he went about using them. Using the time machine, he went back in time to the Caribbean, where he picked out a tavern maid who specialized in martial arts and sword fighting, and she became “Pirate Wench!” Using the reanimation machine, he reanimated a body in a plastic bag he had found along the Jersey Turnpike, and she became “Zombie Hooker!” He used a super power machine to take another girl and turn her into the “Sonic Siren!” And then he used a locator to find a girl that he would dub “the Harlot of Inishmore!” who was both a vampire and a werewolf and the fact that she was Irish was purely coincidental. And then of course, there was “Sheila, the Radioactive Stripper!” who got to keep her first name because her lack of competence had started this all, and also caused her to be the leader.
                On the day that they were all ready and assembled, Gerald called them to his meeting room. “Come on in, girls,” he said. “Now,” he said, “can any of you guess why I’ve assembled you all like this?”
                “Uhhhnuhhnuh?” Guessed Zombie-Hooker.
                “Close, Zombie-Hooker,” Said Gerald, “but I’ve actually assembled you all to be a crime fighting crack squad. So we need a name for you all. I came up with two- you just tell me which one you like better. Either Gerald’s Angels, or Whore Squad.”
                The girls looked at each other, then back at Gerald, then back at each other.
                “Whore squad,” Said the Harlot of Inishmore, “I think it’s unanimous.”
                “Ooohkaaay,” Said Gerald, “But I think you’re missing out. Gerald’s Angels is definitely a very sexy name.” Nobody agreed.
                So Gerald went off to cry in the shower, and the girls sat alone in the room. Suddenly there was a noise.
                “Bling bling bling bling!” went the noise, “Bling bling bling bling!”
                “What in Davy Jones’ name is that?” Yelled Pirate Wench.
                “Grunughcchhh….” Said Zombie-Hooker.
                “Close, Zombie-Hooker,” Said Sheila, the Radioactive Stripper, “but it’s actually the pimp-phone, probably calling for us.” She picked up the phone. “Hello?”
                “Hello,” Said the mayor, “who is this?”
                “This is Sheila, the Radioactive Stripper, of the Whore Squad.”
                “Sheila! Whore Squad! We need your help!”
                “Whatever with, Mr. Mayor?” Asked Sheila.
                “A giant creature has just crawled out of the ocean, and is now chastising the statue of liberty for her style of dress!”
                “We’ll be right over!” Said Sheila, and she and the other girls ran for the door. They yelled their task to Gerald, who was still crying in the shower, and wearing cut-offs, and ran out into the streets of New York City to fight crime. They took the train to the docks, and then the boat to the statue of liberty, getting strange looks from tourists the whole time. They got off the boat, and stood staring at the towering, menacing figure before them.
                “She’s huge!” Screeched the Sonic Siren.
                “She’s terrifying!” Cried the Harlot of Inishmore.
                “She’s going to get us!” Yelled Pirate Wench.
                “She’s Nunzilla!” Announced Sheila, the Radioactive Stripper.
                “Cover yourself, you French tart!” Yelled Nunzilla to the Statue of Liberty. It was just then that she noticed the tiny, scantily clad women around her massive feet.
                “You know who enjoys your style of dress?” She roared at them, “SATAN!!” And then she breathed fire, and brought her giant ruler of judgment down on the island with a deafening crash.  The girls jumped out of the way, and went into action. Sheila shot lasers from out of her hands, Pirate Wench went about her swordplay, the Harlot of Inishmore turned into a werewolf, the Sonic Siren screamed at the top of her lungs, and Zombie-Hooker stumbled around, attempting to engage Nunzilla in witty wordplay.
                “You sluts!” Roared Nunzilla, “you are all going to hell!”
                “Okay, hey wait,” Said HI, “none of us are actually sluts. I find that kind of insulting.”
                “Yeah,” Said Sheila, “I’m a stripper, but I don’t actually have sex with anybody.”
                “Well that’s very misleading,” boomed Nunzilla, “Whore Squad is no name for young ladies like you.”
              “You see, the only other option was Gerald’s angels, and you obviously haven’t met Gerald, but I don’t really want to be his angel.”
               “Oh dear,” said Nunzilla, “that’s very understandable. But maybe you shouldn’t let this Gerald person call the shots. Stick up for yourselves, ladies.”
                “Well,” Said Sonic Siren, “If we change our team name and our personal names, and promise to never lead deviant lifestyles, will you leave New York City?”
                Nunzilla thought about this. “Yes,” she said.
                “Let’s be the Nerd Squad,” Said Sheila, “I’ve always been interested in science.” So they changed their names and attire and personas, and Nunzilla, pleased with the small changes, walked back into the ocean to find that uppity Atlantis place and give it a good talking to. The city praised the Nerd Squad, and they, along with Gerald, became city heroes for nerds and young girls alike, especially ones interested in science and math. They went on to fight many battles, against creatures like “king-jock-kong” and a giant preppy creature wearing an Abercrombie and Fitch polo with the collar popped. Gerald, due to his amazing machines and intellect, became a hero to nerdy virgins everywhere, until he sold himself to Microsoft, and Elliot Spitzer’s re-election campaign.
                “Jeez, what a total prostitute,” Said Sheila, the radioactive biology nerd.
                “Neerrrggghhhh….” Said Zombie-chick.