We know present our tribute to our favorite Gamecock QB and bon vivant: Five short films About Stephen Garcia, composed by Orson, Run Home Jack, and Luke.
One: The Great Spurrtini
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw, well, I guess I don't hate you. Sure, Stephen.
Later.
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw, well, I guess I don't hate you. Sure, Stephen.
Still later.
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw, well, I guess I don't hate you. Sure, Stephen.
Even still later.
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw, well, I guess I don't hate you. Sure, Stephen.
No really this is even still later.
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw, well, I guess I don't hate you. Sure, Stephen.
And yet even still later but just one more time.
The Great Spurrtini: I hate you, Stephen. I hate you with all my heart. You're off the team.
Garcia: Can I have another chance?
The Great Spurrtini: Aw Stephen I guess not I JESUS WHAT AM I DOING YOU'RE A SUB 50% PASSER. Get out.
Garcia: [throws up deuces]
The Great Spurrtini: [yells at reporter]
Two: Back With The 'Rents
He waits.The rain falls around him and he waits. He sees all: their fears, their needs, their wants built from desires they dare not bring into the light of day. He knows how their lives unfold behind thin doors in identical houses on quiet dead streets where no one can know their secret shames. He know how everything was taken from him in another time when he had a name, a face, a life not tied to the thousand loose ends of the fabric of injustice. Garcia? He knew a man named Garcia once, but no more. The name was as foreign to him as cuneiform, and as useful in his current environment. If only he could---
Stephen Garcia's mother: I don't know why you're wearing that ridiculous makeup everywhere Stephen.
The Bro: I AM A HEARTBREAK WALKING THE ROAD OF VENGEANCE IN THE NIGHT! A HEARTBREAK WHO WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE THOSE BUFFALO BLASTS AND TAQUITOS I ORDERED 10 MINUTES AGO TO ARRIVE HERE SOONER RATHER THAN LATER IF YOU WOULD PLEASE.
The Bro waits, a friend to no one and ally only of the blind justice that rules the night....
Three: The Hollywood Years.
Garcia: I want you to see some of my previous work, Amy.
Amy (played by Katherine Heigl) : I don't understand how this is professionally relevant here. We're spies who have to work together, and this seems extraneous to the plot
Garcia: Everyone hates your movies, and plot is unimportant. They're essentially elaborate tax dodges for Kuwaiti royalty sheltering money in the United States. This entire film will actually cost $45 to make excepting your salary. Here, open the folder that says "Peach Bowl 2010." Click the movie file.
Amy: Okay...
Amy: Oh god.
Garcia: Little maneuver I like to call "The Universal Adapter." See, you call it that because you have one guy and four women, but the dude is--
Amy: --no, no, I got it. Please, Bob, I can't work with this man anymore.
Bob, the Director: Stephen, that's not even in the script. Neither are the five other scenes you have improvised involving you showing Ms. Heigl videotape of this..."scene." I'm afraid you are abusing your privileges here.
Garcia: And where have I heard THAT before. Now who's the diva? By the way, Cocked Up sucked.
Amy: I believe you mean Knocked Up, and I am very proud of that film.
Garcia: No, I mean the porno based on it. Still a way better movie, and less misogynistic to boot, amIrite? THIS BRO HAS GOT WORDHAMMERS AND DROPS THEM ALL DAY LONG FOLKS.
Bob: Security, please. Casting, please get his stand-in.
Garcia: EVERY TIME! EVERY FREAKING TIME.
Four: On The Road
A small California town in the desert bordering Nevada. The A-Team pulls up to a gas station in a van that once belonged to Terrelle Pryor.
Beebe: Lot goin' on here. Still more lively than Ames, though.
Locksley: [punches door open]
Tressel: We should get some gas. I'll arrange payment, boys. You just try to keep out of trouble
Garcia: Since when has trouble followed us around, Colonel Vest?
Locksley: COME ON, GAS DRAGON! COUGH UP THE FIRE-jUICE! [punches gas pump repeatedly.]
Garcia steps two feet away from the van and begins urinating in broad daylight. A SMALL OLD VIETNAMESE MAN approaches him. He is clearly in distress, and not just from the site of a large man peeing in public.
Man: Gar-see-yah! Beer King of Saigon!
Locksley: [walks over and punches man in face]
Man: Punchy!
Beebe: Did we know everyone in Vietnam?
Garcia: For plot purposes, yes. What's wrong with you, old friend? Former compatriot involved with a corrupt U.S. Army colonel running black tar heroin through the Golden Triangle, and then through this tiny Oregon--
Man: California--
Garcia--whatever town? Or perhaps a gang of bikers have swept in and taken over the place, and we're the only people you can turn to? Or?
Man: I just wanted to say that you can't pee here, actually, and that you've been peeing on my shoes the whole time we've been talking. But it's been great to see you, Beer King! Where's Colonel Vest?
Inside the gas station.
Clerk: That will be $74.50, Mr...
Tressell: Um...Fickell. Say, i seem to have forgotten my wallet. Do you accept payment by jersey or tattoo?
Clerk: No.
Tressel: Tressel. Well, perhaps you've heard of my friend Dave.
Tressel punts clerk in head. He falls to the ground unconscious. Tressel dusts off his foot, and then kisses it.
Tressel: When in doubt, you're always there, Dave.
Tressel rejoins the group.
Locksley: [punches Tressel]
Tressel: [shakes face] Hey, it's--Nguyen? Was it Nguyen?
Man: No, but points for playing the odds, Colonel Vest. I was telling old friend not to pee in street.
Tressel: Well, you know how freewheeling he is, and---
Beebe: Hey guys, I found a horned frog in the backseat, guys! Now if I could just find those two grenades I misplaced after pulling the pins.
Locksley: [punches van]
EVERYTHING EXPLODES THE END
Five: Apocalypse And Beyond.
Garcia wanders the deserts, sword in scabbard, carrying THE BOOK. He is suddenly surrounded by EVIL BANDITS who seek the secrets of THE BOOK.
EVIL BANDIT: Surrender the book.
Garcia: No way. That shit is mine. I'm blind, by the way, so I can't even see you. Shit, it's like five minutes in to the movie, right? Maybe should have saved that for later, but hey, we're rolling. Man, that would have explained a LOT about my quarterback career, right? Big breakthrough we're having here, Steve.
EVIL BANDIT: [dangles four beers hanging on plastic six-pack ring]
Garcia: Well, now we're talking.
They exchange items.
EVIL BANDIT: Why this...this is just a bunch of bound Maxim magazines from 1997.
Garcia: Hey, there's a Stuff in there, too. The one with J-Lo in her prime in the rhumba panties and high socks? You're welcome. Like a thousand times.
EVIL BANDIT: This was supposed to have a power unlimited! The secrets of ruling this new world and rebuilding it in our own visage! I'LL KILL YOU, CHARLATAN!
Garcia: Bring beef, then, because I'm all the chicken I'll ever need, bro.
Garcia throws a grenade at the EVIL BANDIT. It travels ten feet and five feet to the left of the EVIL BANDIT.
EVIL BANDIT: Fool. Accuracy was never your strong point.
Garcia: Doesn't really matter when I'm pretty sure I just threw it in your engine block, though.
EVIL BANDIT: Then you've killed us both, idiot Garcia. What say you now, in your last seconds?
Garcia: Well, shit. I guess I never was too good with the whole "playbook" thing.
EVIL BANDIT: Touche. Hey, I'm sorry about yelling about the magazines. Ooh! Christa Miller cover! I did always think she was hot, didn't you?
Garcia: I'd scrub that up, if you know---
EVERYTHING EXPLODES.
FIN
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