*This is script for an up-coming picture book…drawing on the way soon =) *

For Shoshanna…
Whoever you are.

Shot 1 – A far shot of a sports car as it turns a sharp corner on some remote, scenic highway.

“Her name was something like Shoshanna. She was a part-time, quasi-artist from somewhere in the south of France.”

Shot 2 – A close up of a well-dressed sheep driving the sports car, sunglasses on. Shoshanna laughs in the reflection from the rearview mirror.

“Her plush ivory wool danced on the breeze as the car sped along.
He held the wheel firmly with one hoof. He smoothly caressed her thigh with the other.”

Shot 3 – A side shot of the car, two very fancy sheep nestled inside. They look happy.

“His name was something like Julian and he owned the convertible Leopard-print Lamborghini that they currently found themselves nestled cozily within.”

Shot 4 – A far shot of the car driving closer to a picturesque mansion on the outer stretches of nowhere, on a cliff.

“She sipped on only the finest of the driest French Champagnes and said things like, “Love is all.”

He drank only the finest of the driest vermouth-ed martinis and said things like, Spin for me doll.

Shot 5 – A shot of a muddy foot mid-kick in freeze-frame motion. Real “BAM! POW!” style

“And then sheep #132 awoke abruptly with a swift kick in the ribs.”

Shot 6 – A wide shot of a pasture, other sheep, a dilapidated old shed and “Julian” sprawled out behind it.

“Yea, I found him. Dumb sheep passed out behind ol’ MacGregor’s fruit stand again…”

Shot 7 – A shot of “Julian” reaching out for Shoshanna, who seems to be falling away from him.

“The shepard reached down, scooped up sheep #132 and hauled him back to the pasture.”

Shot 8 – A shot of sheep #132 standing in the pasture watching the shepard.

“His name was certainly not Julian….
and who’s ever heard of a sheep named Shoshanna?”

Shot 9 – A close up of #132’s face. He looks ugly, dumb…pathetic.

“No, in this silly place called “real life” his name was #132. The tag in his ear said so.”

Shot 10 – A 3 side-by-side-by-side shot of his patchy wool, janked up hoofs and of his gnarly snout, burping up a gnarly belch.

“His wool was all patchy, nothing like a nice alpaca’s. His hoofs stuck out so that when he walked it looked like he was doing gymnastics…and his breath smelled terrible, even by sheep standards.”

Shot 11- A shot of the other sheep in the flock, all “baaaa-ing” in distain of the ugly #132.

“There was little else to be said about him. The rest of the flock ignored him most of the time and went along doing whatever it is that sheep normally do.”

Shot 12 – A very close in shot of #132’s eyes. In them, we see the pasture with faint reflections of the scenic cliffs from his dreams.

“#132 rarely ever thought about the kicks or the sneers. In his waking hours sheep #132 walked, sat, ate, shat and spent the rest of his time staring off into space.”

Shot 13- Now, grand and extravagant scenes of Julian and Shoshanna dancing off into the sunrise of whenever.

“In his dreams, however, he explored the outer realms of the universe. That was enough for #132. It was good.”

Shot 14 – A shot of a letter laying on an otherwise empty desk in a nicely furnished bedroom.

“I leave you this story now for I fear we have been but witless dreamers and little more…”

Shot 15 – A shot of an attractive woman looking out over a fancy balcony, crying.

“Perhaps if we were sheep, dreams would have been enough to make us happy.”

Shot 16 – A silhouette shot of a well-dressed man leaving a fancy villa on a cliff.

“I think it’s out of some strange tribute to this conundrum of love which has made it so…so that the dreams of dreamers are always remembered.”

Shot 17 – A far shot of a leopard print Lamborghini driving away from the picturesque mansion.

“Adieu I’amour, Adieu.
-Julian”

Shot 18 – A wide pan shot showing #132 sleeping peacefully behind MacGregor’s old fruit stand. Dream bubbles show the scene that he’s dreaming.

“Would you mind pouring me a bit more champagne, love?” She was wearing satin lace and pirouetting on the patio.

“Not at all dear.”

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