<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>"How I Became A Werewolf - Part 1/4"</strong></span><br/><br/>INT. STUDIO APARTMENT – DAY<br/><br/>A young woman, JANE (21), sits on an overstuffed couch.  Her red hair is pulled back into a ponytail behind features that are unremarkable besides her flawless complexion.  She wears a taupe tank top with Einstein sticking his tongue out on it.  She is very well-endowed.<br/><br/>JANE beams at the camera.  She waits a moment, then belts out her lines excitedly.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Hi, my name is Jane Chomsky.  I’m 21 and I’m a student at California of University, California.</div><br/>Her smile drops into a blistering scowl.  She seethes.<br/><br/>JANE rises toward the camera and reaches behind it.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>(muttering)<br/>“California of University, California.”<br/>(beat)<br/>Fucking dumb-ass cocksore.</div><br/>The camera switches off.<br/><br/><br/>INT. STUDIO APARTMENT – MOMENTS LATER<br/><br/>JANE is back, sitting primly and beaming at the camera.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Hi, my name is Jane Chomsky.  I’m 21 and I’m a Senior Bio-Chem student at University of California, Berkley.  I study psychotropics, which is a high-faluting way of saying I learn how to get people stoned.</div><br/>JANE grins cheesily.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>My interests are musical theory, amateur photography, blogging of course, waterboarding – I mean watersports.  <br/>(beat)<br/>Like, windsurfing and body boarding.  Also, having literary debates with my hamster, Drama Queen, and, of course, being on Survivor!</div><br/>The video turns off.<br/><br/><br/>INT. DINGY MOTEL ROOM – NIGHT<br/><br/>JANE’s face, angled from brow down, looms in the camera.  She is fidgeting with something behind it.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Fame, don’t fail me now.</div><br/>JANE finishes working and steps back.  Her hair is down now, and flows over a pea-green T-shirt, featuring the words ‘CANNIBAL JANE’ done up to look like the ‘Survivor’ logo, with a picture of her face doing a “Sarah Palin” type wink below it.<br/><br/>She is grim as she studies the camera.  Behind her, the dilapidated motel room interior is visible.  A small arsenal of guns, ammunition and lab kits are strewn around.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Fuck.</div><br/>JANE puts her hands on the sides of her hip-hugger jeans.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>I think I’m recording over my last Survivor audition.</div><br/>JANE waltzes over to a side table and picks up a remote.<br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Guess I’ll be recording another.  Take Five, people.</div><br/>JANE points the remote at the camera.<br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Jeff Probst is going to love my ass.</div><br/>The video ends.<br/><br/>INT. DINGY MOTEL ROOM – MOMENTS LATER<br/><br/>JANE now sits on a chair with the camera centered on her.  She spreads her hands.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Hello, cruel world.</div><br/>JANE leans in.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE <br/>This is the first installment in an ongoing YouTube series, “How I Became A Werewolf.” The first brick in my path to internet fame and to a shot on the series, Survivor.  You may have heard of it.</div><br/>JANE settles back and picks up a can of Monster energy drink.<br/><div align="center">JANE <br/>But since you haven’t heard of me, and getting to know me is what this is all about, I’ll begin.</div><br/>JANE sips, then replaces the can on the table.  She picks up a photo and shows it to the camera.  It is a school picture of a ten year old Jane, smiling uncomfortably in pigtails, wearing a plaid uniform.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>As you can see, my childhood was a happy one.  Abe and Vera were loving parents, in their remote and experimental way.  Note my plaque-free smile.  They at least taught me to brush my teeth.</div><br/>JANE wiggles the picture.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Abe was a corporate land-use attorney.  Vera was a professor of gender studies and comparative literature at UC Berkeley.  That’s where I grew up.  Cradle of tender liberal minds.</div><br/>JANE turns the picture upside down.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>(sing song)<br/>So … sad.</div><br/>JANE puts down the picture, grabs another from a small stack, shows it to the camera.  It’s of a large, colonial-style house.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>This is where I grew up.  15331 Mellow Grove Lane.</div><br/>She taps the photo.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>I chipped a tooth jumping off that garage playing Wonder Woman’s arch-nemesis, Artemis, when I was eleven.</div><br/>She puts the photo back and smiles her flawless smile.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>All fixed.</div><br/>JANE settles back, drinks more Monster.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Other than that, it was your standard, WB-drama life.  Abe hiring a maid to do his recycling for him.  Vera teaching me about monthly cycles at the age I was still reading Judy Blume.  Piano lessons that went nowhere, bad poetry and bat mitzvahs.</div><br/>JANE lifts another photo to the camera.  It shows a balding, serious-looking man, ABE (50) and a beaming gray-haired woman in a sundress with several beaded necklaces, VERA (50), flanking a very sullen looking JANE (18) wearing a graduation gown and cap.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Hm?  Valedictorian?  Why, yes I was.</div><br/>JANE sets the photo back.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE <br/>And honor roll, yearbook, student government treasurer.  I would have cleaned the toilets if it got me AP credit.</div><br/>JANE sets her fists together in front of her.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE <br/>I am an action-oriented, self starter.</div><br/>JANE settles back in her chair.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>I attended Berkeley.  There was no need to move out of the house.  I had my love of punk rock and hobo lore to fill my rebellion quota.  Besides, I was too busy for anything other than hitting the books and climbing that academic ladder.</div><br/>JANE broods, picking up the remote.<br/><br/><div align="center">JANE<br/>Until Senior year, and Sonja.</div><br/>JANE clicks the camera off.<br/><br/><br/>