Bastard Factory: The Sitcom--Pilot Episode

[Flynn]

“BASTARD FACTORY”

Pilot Episode:

“You’re Fired Again”

Open

INT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – EXECUTIVE FLOOR – MORNING

The office looks like a luxury hotel designed by someone going through three divorces simultaneously.

Assistants sprint through the hallway carrying scripts, coffee, and emotional trauma.

Inside the giant glass office, FLYNN (late 30s, sharp, terrifyingly competent, devastatingly attractive) is on three phones at once.

FLYNN: No, we cannot reboot Casablanca as a TikTok dance competition (Heartbeat)
Actually hold on—who’s attached?

She hangs up. Immediately another line rings.

FLYNN: If the actor’s tiger has a trailer bigger than the writers again, I’m calling OSHA and PETA on Fashionista.

The office doors BURST OPEN.

Enter BASTARD FACTORY himself.

60s. Former action star. Sunglasses indoors. Silk robe under a trench coat. Holding a margarita at 9:04 AM.

BASTARD FACTORY: FLYNN!

Everyone in the office freezes.

BASTARD FACTORY: You’re fired.

Nobody reacts anymore.

Flynn calmly signs paperwork.

FLYNN: Morning to you too, tequila Batman.

BASTARD FACTORY: You embarrassed me at poker last night.

FLYNN: You tried to pay your debt with autographed headshots.

BASTARD FACTORY: Collectors value those!

FLYNN: The casino framed one as evidence.

BASTARD FACTORY points dramatically.

BASTARD FACTORY: Security! Escort her out!

Two security guards appear.

Chew The Fat: Again?

Gary From Grindr: Should we wait ten minutes this time?

BASTARD FACTORY: OUT!

Flynn stands.

FLYNN: Fine. Have fun running a studio with the human equivalent of LinkedIn spam emails.

She gestures toward ALTICUS and JACK standing nearby.

ALTICUS wears an expensive suit from Walmart.

JACK looks like a failed youth pastor turned out.

ALTICUS: We can handle operations.

JACK: Absolutely. Flynn creates a toxic atmosphere.

FLYNN: Jack, your hairline filed for separation.

Jack instinctively covers his forehead.

JACK: Low blow.

FLYNN: Not as low as your employee approval rating.

She exits.

SMASH CUT TO:

TITLE CARD: “BASTARD FACTORY”

ACT ONE INT. EXECUTIVE CONFERENCE ROOM – LATER

Alticus and Jack lead a meeting disastrously.

A presentation screen reads:

“NEW VISION FOR BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS”

Subheading:
“CONTENT IS KING. WE ARE THE KING.”

ALTICUS: We need younger audiences.

JACK: More edgy.

ALTICUS: More authentic.

A PRODUCER raises a hand.

Fredricka: Your new superhero movie is about a sentient vape pen.

JACK: Exactly. Viral.

Fredricka: It killed three interns during testing.

ALTICUS: Innovation requires sacrifice.

The room stares.


INT. BASTARD’S OFFICE

Bastard Factory watches horse racing while getting a spray tan.

His assistant rushes in.

Diego: Sir, our stock dropped twelve percent.

BASTARD FACTORY: That’s impossible. I tweeted “movies are back.”

Diego: You spelled movies with two B’s and a gun emoji.

Bastard Factory thinks.

BASTARD FACTORY: That is powerful branding.

INT. BREAK ROOM

Employees panic.

Coffee machine sparks violently.

Flynn enters carrying a box of her belongings.

Everyone GASPS hopefully.

X: Please tell me you’re not actually leaving.

Fredricka: Jack just approved a six-part documentary about himself.

The Cuntess: Alticus replaced HR with “vibe evaluations.”

Flynn pauses.

FLYNN: How bad?

Reggie Essent: A PA got fired for “walking with limiting energy.”

Flynn closes her eyes.

FLYNN: Oh my gawd!

 

[Flynn]

ACT TWO INT. HALLWAY

Enter WIZER.

Mid-60's. Expensive suit. Pharmaceutical consultant. Calm, smug, and enjoys psychological warfare recreationally.

He carries a leather briefcase and an aura of “I charge by the sigh.”

WIZER: Ah. Alticus and Jack. The before-and-after photos for stress eating.

JACK: What are you doing here?

WIZER: My pharmaceutical company is considering product placement opportunities.

Looks around.

WIZER: Judging by the morale here, antidepressants are a natural fit.

Flynn smirks.

FLYNN: Wizer.

WIZER: Flynn. Nice to see the only adult still employed.

Jack scoffs.

JACK: We’re running this studio just fine.

Wizer notices a hallway poster.

It reads:

“FAST & FURIOUS 19: ELECTRIC GRANDMA”

WIZER: Oh good. Alzheimer’s finally gets a cinematic universe.

Alticus fumes.

ALTICUS: You consultants think you’re smarter than everyone.

WIZER: No. We invoice accordingly.

INT. EXECUTIVE FLOOR

Chaos.

A llama runs through the hallway.

Intern ESAD is crying beside a smoking printer.

Jack chases someone yelling.

JACK: WHO ORDERED TWELVE THOUSAND STUDIO-BRANDED FIDGET SPINNERS?!

INTERN FROMHELL: YOU DID!

JACK: WHY WOULD YOU LET ME DO THAT?!

INT. BASTARD’S OFFICE

Bastard is drunk, playing online blackjack.

Flynn storms in.

FLYNN: Your studio is collapsing.

BASTARD FACTORY: Good news then. I’m rebooting collapsing.

FLYNN: Alticus approved three movies without scripts.

BASTARD FACTORY: Scripts are elitist.

FLYNN: Jack tried to replace accounting with NFTs.

Bastard Factory pauses.

BASTARD FACTORY: …Did it work?

FLYNN: You owe catering eighty thousand dollars in Dildo Coin.

Bastard sighs deeply.

BASTARD FACTORY: Fine.

(Heartbeat)

You’re rehired.

FLYNN: You fired me this morning.

BASTARD FACTORY: And look how much I’ve grown since then.

FLYNN: You’re wearing two different shoes.

He looks down.

BASTARD FACTORY: Fashion is risk.

ACT THREE INT. MAIN OFFICE – AFTERNOON

Flynn retakes command instantly.

FLYNN: Cancel the vape superhero movie.

LotusBud: Already trending online.

FLYNN: Fine. Kill it quietly.

She points.

FLYNN: Freeze Jack’s spending access.

JACK: You can’t do that!

FLYNN: Yesterday you expensed “executive crystals.”

JACK: They improve leadership frequencies.

FLYNN: You cried because one was cold.

Employees snicker.

Alticus steps forward smugly.

ALTICUS: You think insulting everyone makes you a leader?

Flynn leans in.

FLYNN: No. Competence does. The insults are a hobby.

The office erupts in applause.

Alticus storms off.

Immediately slips on a promotional fidget spinner.

CRASH.

 

[Flynn]

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – NIGHT

Everyone exhausted.

Flynn sits at the head of the table.

Bastard Factory enters eating shrimp from a ziplock bag.

BASTARD FACTORY: Good work today, team.

FLYNN: You spent six hours trying to fight a valet.

BASTARD FACTORY: He knew what he did.

Wizer enters holding reports.

WIZER: Your studio survived another day.

BASTARD FACTORY: Thanks to me.

Everyone stares.

WIZER: That sentence should be studied by neurologists.

Jack mutters under his breath.

JACK: I hate all of you.

FLYNN: Get in line. Even your mirrors quit.

Jack sighs.

Alticus, bruised and furious, points at Flynn.

ALTICUS: One day Bastard Factory will finally realize you’re the problem.

Long silence.

Everyone slowly turns toward Bastard Factory, who is now attempting to light a cigar with a scented candle.

The candle explodes slightly.

BASTARD FACTORY: WHY IS FIRE SO ANGRY NOW?!

Flynn deadpans to camera.

FLYNN: And that’s why I drink.

FREEZE FRAME.

END OF PILOT

 

[wizer]

Let's do an episode where @jack's anger finally boils over and he goes on a shooting spree at a local mall and takes out a few innocent shoppers with nonfatal wounds before he aims his weapon at the police in what is later determined to be "suicide by cop".

 

[Flynn]

Title: “BORDERLINE PERSONALITIES”
Episode: “The Ponytail Fugitive”
Bastard Factory Studios Universe

COLD OPEN

INT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – LOBBY – DAY

The lobby is chaotic. Movie posters line the walls: “EXPLOSION SHARK 4”, “NUNS WITH FLAMETHROWERS”, “FAST & FURIOUSLY CONFUSED.”

The receptionist named Succubus chews gum aggressively while scrolling on her phone.

The front doors BURST OPEN.

Enter FLEA, late 40s, Border Patrol officer, sunglasses on indoors, carrying enough attitude to qualify as a weapon.

FLEA: Alright, listen up, Dollar Store Hollywood. I’m looking for a man named Holligay. Gray ponytail. Looks like expired yogurt gained sentience.

Succubus doesn’t look up.

Succubus: You just described half the screenwriters here.

FLEA: Cute. Did they teach sarcasm at receptionist college or were you always this naturally disappointing?

Succubus rolls her eyes, and points lazily toward the studio offices.

CUT TO: INT. BF STUDIOS – EXECUTIVE OFFICE – DAY

FLYNN, stunning, sharp, poised, is reviewing scripts while three producers nervously hover around her.

Fredricka: Focus groups said the violence in the movie was “deeply upsetting.”

FLYNN: Good. Last year they said it was “forgettable.” Trauma means engagement.

Flea storms in.

FLEA: Flynn. You're now the President of Bastard Factory Studios?

FLYNN: Officer Flea. You look exactly like someone who’s threatened a parking meter with a firearm. And to answer your question. Yes.

FLEA: And you look like Botox learned how to negotiate contracts.

FLYNN: Thank you.

They stare each other down.

FLEA: Holligay been here?

FLYNN: Unfortunately. He waddled in yesterday screaming about violence in movies.

FLEA: That old fossil still doing that speech?

FLYNN: Please. I destroyed him at the town meeting last year. The man debated like a confused Roomba trapped under a recliner.

FLEA: What’d you say?

FLYNN: I told him movies don’t create violence. His haircut does.

Flea SNORTS laughing.

FLEA: Damn.

FLYNN: He called our films “morally bankrupt.”

FLEA: And?

FLYNN: I told him his ponytail looked like it owed child support in four states.

Fredricka accidentally spits out her coffee laughing.

CUT TO: EXT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – PARKING LOT – DAY

A WHITE WINDOWLESS VAN idles suspiciously.

The side says:
“ADMIN RIDESHARE – WE DEFINITELY CHECK IDs”

ADMIN, sweaty and twitchy, leans out the window.

ADMIN: I am not looking for any underage kids.

FLEA: Why do you sound like your hard drive should be investigated?

ADMIN: I'm just trying to make a dime.

FLEA: You’re sweating like a Jack at his favorite tranny convention.

Admin slowly starts rolling away.

Flea narrows her eyes.

FLEA: Hell no! Oh no. Nope. That’s guilty movement right there.

She pulls out her TASER.

ADMIN: Now hold on—

ZZZZZT!

Admin convulses dramatically and collapses face-first onto the horn.

HONK HOOOOONK.

Flea opens the van doors.

Inside sit FOUR UNDERAGE KIDS eating chips.

One kid raises a Capri Sun.

KID: You’re the third cop today.

Flea slowly turns toward the twitching Admin.

FLEA: You absolute Craigslist cryptid.

ADMIN: I can explain—

Random person drives by and shouts, "Admin sucks cock!"

FLEA: You look like every single warning label if they were a person.

***Theme to Law And Order starts playing in the background***

She cuffs him.

CUT TO: INT. BF STUDIOS – SOUNDSTAGE – NIGHT

Dark stage. Fake city set. Fake rain.

A FIGURE sneaks across the shadows.

It’s HOLLIGAY — late 70s, gray ponytail, cardigan, furious old-man energy.

He mutters to himself.

HOLLIGAY: Movies used to have values… now it’s explosions and profanity…

Flea steps out of the darkness.

FLEA: Funny hearing that from a guy smuggling people from The Blue Cashew to America.

Holligay freezes.

HOLLIGAY: You have no proof.

FLEA: I got witnesses, documents, and honestly… your face screams “federal charges.”

HOLLIGAY: This is political persecution!

FLEA: No, this is called you're guilty as fuck! Biatch!

Holligay suddenly RUNS.

Very slowly.

Like an arthritic raccoon.

Flea watches for a 3 minutes while searching unsuccessfully for her asthma inhaler.

FLEA: Wow. Holligay should have been the Olympics. Maybe the Special Olympics.

She "SPRINTS" after him.

Holligay trips over a fake fire hydrant.

Flea grabs him and BODY SLAMS him onto the pavement.

BOOOOM.

Crew members APPLAUD.

CAMERAMAN ESAD: Best stunt all week.

Flea slaps cuffs on him.

HOLLIGAY: Ow! My hip!

FLEA: At your age every movement is a medical emergency.

HOLLIGAY: You violent thug!

FLEA: Buddy, your ponytail has seen three recessions. Relax.

FINAL SCENE INT. INTERROGATION ROOM – NIGHT

Holligay sits defeated.

Flea drinks terrible vending machine coffee.

FLEA: Who’s running the operation?

HOLLIGAY: I’m not saying anything.

Flea slides over a mirror.

FLEA: Look at yourself. You look like a retired magician banned from Applebee’s.

Holligay sighs heavily.

HOLLIGAY: Fine. It’s Seamajor.

Pregnant pause. More dramatic Law and Order theme music.

FLEA: That suntanned hemorrhoid…

HOLLIGAY(sobbing): He runs everything from South America. Lives on a beach with a harem of boys half his age.

FLEA: That disgusting old surfer cult leader?!

HOLLIGAY: He keeps moving ports. Always one step ahead.

FLEA: Not this time.

HOLLIGAY: You’ll never catch him.

FLEA: Please. I’ve tracked coyotes through deserts hotter than Flynn’s lawyers.

To be continued...

SMASH CUT TO BLACK.

END CREDITS

 

[wizer]

During the interlude between scenes the curtain opens briefly and the camera zooms in just as the lights brighten up enough to see @jack cock hopping on the nearest stagehand.

Fade to black again

 

[Flynn]

Title: “JACK GOES FULL NERF”
Episode: "Jack Attack!"
Bastard Factory Studios Universe

COLD OPEN

INT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – BREAK ROOM – MORNING

A depressing coffee machine wheezes like it’s on life support.

JACK, 74, angry at gravity itself, stirs powdered creamer into black coffee with a screwdriver.

Across the room stands FLYNN — dazzling, confident, terrifyingly competent. Early 30s. She’s reviewing six monitors at once while solving a Rubik’s Cube with one hand.

WIZER, a retired optometrist who now is a pharmaceutical consultant reading three newspapers simultaneously.

Jack glares at both of them.

JACK: You know what your problem is, Flynn?

FLYNN: Which one? I have several profitable ones.

JACK: You walk around here acting like you’re smarter than everybody.

FLYNN: Jack, yesterday you microwaved a banana because you thought it was “cold soup.”

JACK: IT LOOKED CHILLY.

Wizer lowers his newspaper.

WIZER: Jack, your IQ test came back with a loading symbol.

Flynn snorts coffee through her nose.

JACK: Oh real funny, Wizer. Aren’t you retired?

WIZER: I tried retirement once. Then I realized humiliating you keeps my blood pressure perfect.

ACT ONE

INT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – OFFICE FLOOR

Jack struggles to use a touchscreen printer.

The printer displays: “ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO PRINT 4,000 COPIES?”

Jack presses YES.

The printer erupts like a paper volcano.

Flynn storms over.

FLYNN: Jack! Why would you print four thousand copies of a Chili’s coupon?!

JACK: Because America deserves savings!

FLYNN: You’re the human equivalent of a wet sock in a microwave.

Employees laugh.

Wizer strolls by casually eating pudding.

WIZER: Jack once got locked inside a revolving door for forty minutes.

JACK: THAT DOOR WAS AGGRESSIVE.

Jack fumes.

ACT TWO

EXT. SKETCHY ALLEY – NIGHT

Jack stands in front of a guy named TANK, a wannabe gangster wearing sunglasses at night and a trench coat covered in anime pins.

TANK: You look nervous, old man.

JACK: I’m not nervous. I’m furious. There’s a difference.

TANK: So you want protection?

Tank opens the coat dramatically.

Inside are dozens of brightly colored toy blasters.

JACK: Those are children’s toys.

TANK: No no no. Tactical foam-based combat systems.

Tank pulls out a black Nerf gun that actually looks convincing in the dark.

TANK: This one? “The Widowmaker.”

Tiny orange dart falls out.

JACK: Looks real enough.

TANK: That’ll be 600 bucks.

JACK: SIX HUNDRED?!

TANK: Comes with emotional damage.

Jack hands over the cash.

Tank immediately runs away laughing.


ACT THREE

INT. MALL – NEXT DAY

Jack stomps through the mall wearing sunglasses and a fishing vest.

Teenagers barely notice him.

A kiosk employee offers him lotion samples.

SirSuperSouthern: Sir would you like to try lavender shea butter—

JACK: NOT NOW!

Jack dramatically pulls out the “gun.”

People gasp for exactly one second.

JACK: I’VE HAD IT WITH SOCIETY!

He fires.

FWIP.

A tiny sponge dart bounces harmlessly off a pretzel stand.

Silence.

Another dart hits a guy drinking bubble tea.

ESAD TIA: …Was that Nerf?

Jack stares at the gun.

JACK
What the—

FWIP. FWIP. FWIP.

Tiny foam darts scatter everywhere.

A child picks one up.

Alticus: Cool! Free ammo!

The kid shoots Jack in the forehead with his own dart.

Nearby shoppers start laughing.

A SECURITY GUARD slowly walks over while eating Cinnabon.

COOKIE MONSTER: Sir… are you doing a birthday party?

JACK: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE INTIMIDATING!

A teenager films him.

Dove's Daughter: Yo this dude’s having a villain origin story sponsored by Toys “R” Us.

Jack angrily fires more darts.

One sticks to an old woman’s purse.

Iggy Mclulz: Nice shot, honey.

Jack’s eye twitches violently.


ACT FOUR

INT. BASTARD FACTORY STUDIOS – NEXT MORNING

Jack walks into work defeated.

Flynn looks up from her desk.

FLYNN: Jack, why are you trending online?

She spins her monitor around.

The video title reads: “GRANDPA DECLARES WAR ON ORANGE JULIUS”

14 million views.

Wizer is crying laughing.

WIZER: Jack, you got disarmed by Velcro.

JACK: I got scammed!

FLYNN: By WHO? The Hamburglar?

Jack slams his Rainbow Brite lunch box down.

JACK: I am sick of this place. Sick of all of you. Nobody respects me.

Flynn softens slightly.

FLYNN: Jack… you once called tech support because your calculator said “boobs.”

JACK: IT WAS MOCKING ME!

Wizer pats Jack on the shoulder.

WIZER: Listen, Jack. You’re angry because the world changed and you didn’t.

JACK: …That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said.

WIZER: I know. That’s why it hurt you.

Flynn tosses Jack a foam dart.

FLYNN: Come on. Staff meeting in five. Try not to declare war on Build-A-Bear again.

Jack sighs.

Then quietly pockets the dart.

TAG SCENE

INT. BREAK ROOM – LATER

Jack secretly examines the Nerf gun.

He squints.

Reads tiny text on the side:

“AGES 8+”

Jack explodes.

JACK: THAT SON OF A—

FWIP.

A dart shoots directly into Flynn’s coffee.

She slowly turns around.

FLYNN: …Jack.

JACK: It was an accident.

FLYNN: You loaded the dart backwards.

JACK: …I hate this century.

FADE OUT.

END CREDITS