Rules: Shenny at the Movies
1. One chapter long – Yup
2. Up to 2500 words – Nope. 2625. Drat, but I'm close this time.
3. Must be able to recognize the characters – Yup
4. Deadline January 1st, 2016 – Yup
All credit goes to Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady (for TBBT), and Thomas Harris and Ted Tally for, respectively, the original story and screenplay for The Silence of the Lambs. Once again, most of the dialogue/ description was taken from available transcripts. The pop psychology is my own. Make of it what you will. I do not own these stories or these characters.
The Silence of the Lambs
Penny entered her talent agent's office at William Morris Endeavor.
"A job's come up," said Jill Crawford. "I thought about you. It's more of an interesting errand really. You took a psych course at Pasadena City College, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, this will help you. It's for the Serial Apeist 2 movie. The director wants to interview various serial killers now in custody for detailed psycho-behavioural profiles that he can use in the script."
"Really, for a low-budget horror movie?"
"There are no small parts, Penny. Why shouldn't you be the best bisexual go-go dancer slowly transforming into a killer gorilla anyone's ever seen?"
"OK."
"Most of the interviewees have been happy to talk. Do you spook easily Penny?"
"No. I was in junior rodeo. I can hogtie and castrate someone in 60 seconds."
"See, the one we want most refuses to cooperate. I was hoping you could talk to him today at the asylum."
"Who's the subject?"
"The physicist Sheldon Cooper."
"Cooper the Anti-Looper, on account of his devotion to String Theory and not Loop Quantum Gravity?"
"No, now he's Shelly Cooper the Smelly Pooper, due to all the human protein he's consumed from his cannibalism. The other inmates started calling him that and it spread like wildfire."
Penny started to giggle but checked herself when she caught a glimpse of Jill's stone-faced demeanour.
"I don't expect him to talk to you, but I have to be able to say that we tried. Here's his dossier and a questionnaire. Cooper won't deign to talk to an actress, only someone he perceives to be on his intellectual level, so I've included a special FBI id."
Before Penny could say anything, Jill continued.
"Be very careful with Sheldon Cooper. Dr. Beverley Hofstadter, his psychiatrist at the asylum, will go over all the physical procedures used with him. Do not deviate from them for any reason whatsoever. And you're to tell him nothing personal. Believe me, you don't want Sheldon Cooper inside your head. Just do your job but never forget what he is."
"And what's that?"
"He's a pure psychopath - bat crap crazy really, " said Dr. Hofstadter. "He'd never admit to it though. He sticks to his internal narrative that he's not crazy since his mother had him tested. From a research point of view, Cooper is our most prized asset. He has a remarkable brain and we have the CAT scans to prove it. We've tried to study him, but he's much too sophisticated for the standard tests. He answers all the multiple choice questions in an A, B, B, A, C pattern and thinks we won't notice."
"Has he seen a woman, besides yourself, in eight years?"
"No. And he's still a virgin, but you're not to his taste, so to speak. At least that's what he'd tell himself."
"What do you mean?"
"Cooper's a classic egotist with all the traditional defense mechanisms – suppression, rationalization, sublimation. Even regression. When he first came here, he was clutching a teddy bear and covered in baby powder. With you, I suspect Reaction Formation will be his modus operandi. It's one of the more sophisticated defense mechanisms people use. Anxiety triggers an uncomfortable reality, one that he would rather not confront, so he effectively behaves in the complete polar opposite manner of what he desires in order to hide his true feelings. Naturally, I suspect he'll dislike a nice, pretty girl such as yourself."
They descended a staircase into the basement of the asylum, only to be stopped by large metal bars that blocked the entrance to an underground ward.
"Remember the rules: Do not approach the glass, and do not pass him anything. If he attempts to pass anything to you, do not accept it. Remember, if Cooper feels that you're his enemy, he will vow eternal hatred and attempt to seek revenge. This is what he did to an actor who made him travel ten hours on a bus to a sci-fi convention. In the end, his idol apparently had better things to do than show up and sign his action figure."
Penny averted her eyes as Beverley held up an unrecognizable picture of a mutilated Wil Wheaton.
"The doctors were able to reattach Wheaton's jaw. It's why he wears that beard of his – to hide the scars. Anyway, we put out a chair for you. Cooper's past the others, last cell on the left."
A buzzer rang and the gates opened. Penny walked down the darkened hallway to a wall made entirely of glass.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," the physicist responded.
"Uh, I'm Special Agent Page from the FBI. May I speak with you?"
"Well, this is an interesting development. You say you are Special Agent Page. For the record, years ago I sent the FBI Crime Lab samples from a bag of excrement, which had been lit on fire on my front porch, for fingerprinting and DNA analysis. Why haven't I heard back?"
"Well, the FBI Crime Lab does have a lot on its plate."
"May I see your credentials? I have a Justice League membership card, but that doesn't prove I know Batman."
"Certainly, here's my ID." Penny pulled it out and held it up towards the glass.
"Closer, please."
She took a step forward.
"CLOSER."
Sheldon examined the photo card.
"That expires in one week. You're not real FBI, are you?'
"No, I'm an actress. My name's Penny."
"They sent an actress to ME?"
"I'm not an actress; I'm an Actress! I was hoping we could sit down and chat."
"Chat? To what end?"
"I'm making a movie and I'm here to learn from you. Maybe you can decide whether or not I'm qualified enough to do that."
"Don't be ridiculous. It goes without saying that you're not qualified. I'm a physicist and physics encompasses the entire universe, from quantum particles to supernovas, from spinning electrons to spinning galaxies. Talking to you would be a massive undertaking, and my time is both limited and valuable."
"You're sitting in here reading comic books and playing Klingon Boggle all day."
"Okay, point. What kind of science foundation do you have? Did you take any science classes in school?"
"I did the one with the frogs. I gutted that thing like a deer."
A little smile could be seen on the corner of Sheldon's mouth. Nevertheless, he responded…
"I'm sorry, Penny, I don't think so."
"Oh come on! A smart guy like you."
"Madam, I'd have to lose 60 IQ points to be classified as smart."
"Dr. Cooper, I'm not actually here about physics."
"Good Lord, then why are you here?"
"I'm hoping to learn from you from a psychological point of view. I'm filming a movie about a killer gorilla."
"An anthropomorphized gorilla? Well, I do like monkeys, and Hominids are higher on the evolutionary scale. I suppose I could look at it as a challenge - my own personal KoKo the gorilla."
"Great! It's a little insulting, but great. I'll be KoKo."
"Not likely. The social sciences are largely hokum, but short of putting electrodes in my brain and monitoring my responses, I suppose this will have to do. Where's your notebook?"
"Um, I don't have one."
"How are you going to take notes without a notebook?"
"I have to take notes?"
"How else are you going to study for the tests?"
"There's going to be a test?"
"Tests."
He walked towards the glass and passed a notebook through a sliding metal food server.
"It's college-ruled. I hope that's not too intimidating."
"Well…"
"Bazinga. I don't care."
As he said that, he sniffed the waft of air that came through the ventilation.
"You wear cherry lipstick and have recently been to The Cheesecake Factory. You use apple-scented shampoo, but not today. Today you used vanilla."
"That's really impressive Doctor," Penny responded. She looked around his cell.
"Is that your whiteboard? It looks like some serious stuff."
"Yeah, well, it's just some quantum mechanics, with a little string theory doodling around the edges. That part there, that's a joke; it's a spoof of the Bourne-Oppenheimer approximation."
"You really are one of those beautiful mind genius guys."
"Yeah," he said, as he looked at her enticingly.
Penny paused for a minute, unsure of how to proceed.
"Um, well, perhaps you'd care to lend us your view on this questionnaire, Doctor."
"Oh no, no, no, no. You were doing fine. You had established trust. Now this ham-handed segue? Have your producers interviewed that new killer - Creepy Crawley? He was a former colleague of mine. He was a world-renowned entomologist with a doctorate and 20 years of experience when the university cut off his funding for his lab. After spending six months in the Borneo rain forest, he came home to find his wife shacked up with a two-bit ornithologist. He killed them both and deliberately inserted objects into their throats."
"A butterfly, I heard."
"No, a moth. Why do you think he placed them there, Penny? Thrill me with your acumen."
"It excited him. Most serial killers have some sort of calling-card."
"The significance of the moth is change. Caterpillar into chrysalis, or pupa, and from thence into beauty, or whatever passes for beauty when one is forced to move from Pasadena to Oxnard. Crawley wasn't born a criminal. He was made one through years of systematic abuse. Do you think you can dissect me with this blunt little tool of yours?" He pointed to the questionnaire.
"I'm only asking you to look at it. Either you will or you won't," she replied.
"That accent you've tried so desperately to shed: pure mid-west Nebraskan. What's your father? A farmer? Does he stink of the pigs? Or is it lambs? How quickly the boys found you. All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars, peeing on sticks saying you're checking for diabetes, all the while you could only dream of getting out, getting anywhere, getting all the way to LA LA Land."
"You see a lot Doctor. But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? Or maybe you're afraid to."
"A neurobiologist once tried to 'help' rid me of my closure compulsion. I ate her liver with some spaghetti and cut up hot dogs, and a nice glass of strawberry Quick."
He was expecting Penny to wince at his shocking revelation, but she didn't.
"If I help you, Penny, it will be 'turns' with us too. Quid pro quo. I tell you things, you tell me things. Not about all this – about yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?
"Go Doctor."
"What is your worst memory of adulthood?"
"I fell in love with a jerk. I lived with Kurt for four years. Fours years. That's as long as High School."
"It took you four years to get through High School?"
"You want to know the most pathetic part? Even though I hated his lying cheating guts, I still loved him. Is that crazy?"
"Yes."
"I'm now engaged to a nice guy who would never cheat. Well, I mean he did cheat, with Mandy. He also cheated on his previous girlfriend with someone named Alice. He actually sought my advice on that one. Leonard told me he was trying to sabotage our relationship out of fear."
"He told you that? It sounds like he weighed the pros and cons and made a conscious choice to cheat."
"No, he was drunk at the time, or so he said."
"In Vino Veritas. Alcohol is a central nervous system depressant. It lowers your inhibitions and allows you to say - or do - things that you necessarily wouldn't otherwise. It doesn't, however, create desire. There's a saying that at the end of your life, you regret the stuff you didn't do more than the stuff that you did. I suspect Mandy, like Alice, was quite simply the stuff he wanted to do."
Penny glared at the physicist.
"Quid pro quo, Doctor. Tell me something personal about yourself."
"I own nine pairs of pants."
"This is your game, Doctor, and these are your rules. I expect something more revealing."
"I own nine pairs of underpants. My turn now: What would constitute a perfect day for you?"
"Well, I'd probably sleep in, do a little yoga, then lie on a beach while cute cabana boys brought me drinks. I'd probably get a massage and then cap off the night with some dancing."
"That's it?"
"Yeah, why?"
"You didn't mention your fiancé."
"He's there."
"I don't think so."
"My turn, Doctor. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?"
"Teleportation, obviously." He smiled as he pointed to his surroundings. "I truly wish I could have the ability to read people's minds. If I had that, then I imagine life would be so much simpler. Maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way they did."
After a slight pause, he continued.
"Today is my birthday."
Penny searched her dossier, but a date of birth wasn't included in his file.
"Happy Birthday. Thank you for sharing. I won't tell anyone. I would have never pegged you for a Pisces. You're more of a typical Taurus, considering your anger issues and all." She frowned as she pointed to his surroundings.
"I see you participate in the mass cultural delusion that the Sun's apparent position relative to arbitrarily defined constellations at the time of your birth somehow affects your personality. Quid pro quo, Penny. Why are you engaged to a man who has shown a propensity to cheat, when you have been cheated on many times before?"
"Perhaps I have an external locus of control and value myself as others value me. I expect this is the result of my unmet childhood emotional needs. My father called me slugger until I got my first training bra, and then he just stopped playing catch with me. I wasn't slugger anymore. I've learned that sex gets me attention from men – attention that I desire. It makes up for the intimacy I didn't get as a child."
"You drink yourself to sleep at night because you're afraid you've settled, and you know you'll wake up in a perpetual loop, don't you? You think your new fiancé is different from your other boyfriends, when in fact he is the same – no different than Kurt. You can't see their similarities because the exterior packaging confuses you. One is probably tall, the other short. One is seemingly dominant, the other submissive. One is probably average intelligence, the other a genius. However, I would hazard a guess they are both egotists, both need validation from others, and both are extremely insecure. Am I right?"
"Yes."
"And you think if you marry this man, Leonard, you'll silence the voices of low self-esteem that live inside your head. Perhaps the real eight hundred pound gorilla in the room, Penny, is whether you would have ever accepted your fiancé's proposal had you possessed self-esteem in the first place."
"Quid pro quo, Doctor. Why did you kill your girlfriend?"
"To invoke a sports metaphor, it was her third strike."
"Tell me the truth, Doctor."
He hesitated, and then finally confessed.
"Penny, much like the character in your movie, I found myself changing into something I barely recognized anymore. I had knuckled under, and I hated myself for it. So I blamed her. The night it happened, I told her I wished she were dead. She didn't believe me. I should have just shaken hands with her and walked away, but I didn't. Instead, I chose to let the dominoes fall where they may."
"Thank you, Dr. Cooper. I really appreciate this. I'd best be going now. Good bye."
"Penny."
"Yes?"
"Well played."
The End