The Open Road – Letter 14

Mr. Miller,

Good news! We’ve officially wrapped shooting for our cinema masterpiece,  trucKING Royalty! Earlier today, we completed the heart-warming ending when the audience thinks that I get shot in the heart by the crazy bad guy (played by Seth Green). Just after Eddie kills Seth, he runs over to me and cries out, “Curse you, bad guy, and curse this wild and reckless trucking lifestyle! Trucking killed my Danny… MY FRIEND!” It’s extremely touching and probably Oscar worthy. Then, as Eddie begins to pick me up to take me into the truck, I START COUGHING AND COMING BACK TO LIFE!

Eddie looks at me with astonishment – he saw me get shot in the chest! How could I have possibly survived that? Well, it turns out the bullet hit THE KEYS TO THE TRUCK IN MY FRONT SHIRT POCKET! How is that for a creative and totally-never-used-before plot twist? Trucking didn’t kill his Danny, trucking saved his Danny! I tell Eddie, “Come on, let’s go get some bacon and Natty Ice… on me,” which is a pun because earlier in the movie Eddie punches me and pours beer all over me (a moment of amazing improvisation by Eddie). We then hop into Barbara (obviously played by another truck with way more flame decals) and drive off into the sun set.

I’m pretty positive that we’re guaranteed AT LEAST Best Film if Mr. Scorsese holds his end of the bargain and adds more explosions and gun fights.

Tomorrow’s wrap party should be pretty exciting. I know Eddie is worried that we’ll be black-listed from Hollywood once we reveal our true identities, but I couldn’t imagine anyone being mad. If anything, they would probably appreciate the amount of moxie and acting expertise needed to pretend to be a talented actor for the entire length of a shoot (it worked for the entirety of Ben Affleck’s career – HO! ZING!).

We’ll let you know how the party works out. Tell Dad that Mr. Redford said that his role is “the most challenging yet ultimately most satisfying role he’s ever had the pleasure of portraying.”

-Danny

The Open Road – Letter 13

Mr. Miller,

Shooting is going well on trucKING Royalty. As Danny mentioned to you in his last letter, we only have to do about 17 minutes of shooting — the rest will be filled with action sequences and dramatic monologues.

I should say that I only have to do about 17 minutes of shooting. Since everyone still believes me to be Burt Reynolds, they’ve told me that a man of my “caliber” doesn’t need to worry about drama or action. a Stunt Double will fill in for the latter, and the former isn’t a part of my character’s shtick.

Danny on the other hand (or, “Orlando Bloom” I should say) is thought of as a “young go-getter” on the Hollywood scene. And due to his inclusion in the Lord of the Rings films, everyone expects a lot from him. Danny’s been jumping off trucks and dodging explosions, while I kick back in my trailer enjoying a 6-pack of Natty Ice and the most elegant bacon you’ve ever indulged in.

There is, however, one problem. When we mentioned getting paid in wads of cash for the film, our producer just laughed and said “obviously your payment will be directly deposited into the bank accounts we have on file for you guys.”

I believe that this means that one morning the REAL Burt Reynolds and Orlando Bloom will wake up to having a huge paycheck deposited into their checking accounts, and Eddie and Danny right here will leave Hollywood just the same as they entered it.

Danny’s not too worried about this, since his father already gives him a steady supply of cash each week. But I don’t have any such luck. And as you recall, we sent my beautiful truck Barbara up the coast to Seattle with our payload — so there goes that paycheck.

I’m not too sure how to solve this problem, but I’ve been thinking about punching someone. Danny has a different plan: the last day of shooting is very soon, and he says that he plans on having us rip off our disguises and show everyone who is working on the film the real Danny and Eddie. He claims they’ll have no option but to respect us and make us the Hollywood stars we deserve to be given trucKING Royalty‘s brilliance in the light-hearted buddy-flick genre.

I don’t know if his plan is going to work yet, but by the next time we speak, the shit will have already hit the fan, for better or worse. I’m not too sure when shit hitting a fan is for the best, but I’m hoping that this will be the first time that analogy works in a positive manner.

Wish us luck, you old dog, you.

– Eddie

The Open Road – Letter 12

Mr. Miller,

I’m writing to you right now from Mr. Harvey Keitel’s luxury hotel suite. More specifically, the hot tub of Mr. Harvey Keitel’s luxury hotel suite, so I apologize for any bubble-bath smudges on this letter. Mr. Keitel was kind enough to invite me and Eddie out for a night on the town to thank us for casting him in trucKING Royalty. Any idea who he’s playing? Go ahead, guess.

Did you guess yourself? GREAT GUESS YOU’RE THE SMARTEST DUDE! You see, I really liked him in Little Nicky (despite it’s status as a non-light-hearted-buddy-flick) and our producer, Mr. Feinberg, said he could “pull some strings” and make it happen. So he pulled said strings and here I am playing Halo 3 with Mark Wahlberg (playing Mr. Feinberg) and Robert Redford (playing my Dad) in hot tub filled with Perrier. Eddie just got his room service consisting of caviar covered bacon and a six-pack of Natty-Light. As you can tell, things are going pretty well.

Mr. Feinberg is apparently such a huge Burt Reynolds fan (he still thinks we’re Burt and Orlando) that he gave us a movie deal despite our script being all of 17 pages long. Apparently that’s about 17 minutes of filming. Eddie seems a bit worried about the length, but I know Mr. Scorsese (he’s directing, by the way) will fill in the rest with lots of dramatic monologues and gun fights. Marty says this will be the Citizen Kane of light-hearted buddy flicks, and I tend to believe him.

The only draw back of pretending to be Orlando Bloom is having to wear this Legolas costume all the time. People keep asking me to show off my archery skills, but I keep telling them I’ve got a wrist injury from punching an Uruk-hai. It’s flawless logic, I’m not worried about getting caught AT ALL.

We’ll send you tickets to the premier, you’re going to LOVE this movie!

-Danny

The Open Road – Letter 11

Mr. Miller,

Well, Danny and I decided that we had to go with Plan B: sneak into the studio and replace the shooting scripts with the buddy comedy we wrote based on our strange and humorous adventure(s) in trucking. Danny figured that we’d be allowed in if we dressed like celebrities. I told him that these are powerful stars and executives, and how those guys work so little that the studio would probably be dead by the evening. So, I geared myself up in all black (including a ski-mask), Danny cloaked himself by dressing like Orlando Bloom in Lord of the Rings (I still don’t get him), and I got us in thanks to the ring of keys I received after landing that Security Guard gig at the studio.

But, as I’ve said before, I don’t know a damn thing about the way movies are made in Hollywood. And, apparently, it’s not a 9-5 situation like I thought.

So, instead of walking onto an empty set, we broke in at 8pm and bumped right into a director who was shooting a new romantic comedy. When he saw us both decked out in “ridiculous costumes,” as he called them, he thought it was “a great artistic choice” and told us to “get on set.”

Danny and I shot a scene where we showed up as dinner party guests in our ridiculous getup. And, they even suggested we adlib dialogue and just roll with it. Naturally, my character was a trucker who discuss the hardships of life on the road. Danny’s character was a nerd who loves archery, and wants to be a trucker but knows jack-shit about it.

Overall, the shoot went great. Afterward someone on the set said “excellent performance, Mr. Reynolds.” Danny clued me in that, thanks to my mustache, they probably think I am THE Burt Reynolds. Any chance I get to act like my role model, the main man from Smokey and the Bandit — the number one trucking movie of all time — is fine by me. So, I kept the lie going.

I then used my fraudulent fame to show the producer and the director our script for trucKING Royalty. They told “Burt Reynolds” that they’d have it read by the morning, and seemed very excited about the idea.

I always thought of myself as a trucker first, a man second, and a mustachioed bacon lover third. I never once thought of myself as a Hollywood actor. But, let me tell you something, if acting’s anything like walking onto a set, being mistaken for Burt Reynolds, and “improvising” by talking about the one thing you know, I think I’m gonna be damn good it.

We’ll let you know how it all goes down after our meeting with the producers tomorrow afternoon.

– Eddie

The Open Road – Letter 10

Mr. Miller,

Eddie’s been working at the studio for over a week and STILL no one has asked him to pitch his movie idea! It must be the economy. Since when can’t a guy get a job as a security guard and be able to openly discuss all his amazing ideas with all the high-ranking executives of the company? WHAT KIND OF WORLD ARE WE LIVING IN?!

I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands. We’re sneaking into the offices tomorrow night and replacing every script with trucking Royalty. It’s simple, really. I’ll dress up as Orlando Bloom in The Lord of the Rings (the most epic buddy flick ever) and Eddie will dress up as Burt Reynolds because that’s the only thing he can pull off with that mustache. Once we’re allowed into the studio because of our celebrity status, we’ll go through every office in the building and replace every script with ours.

Once we’re done, we’ll sit back and wait for the Big-Time execs to call us and offer us huge contracts to star in the amazing movie we wrote. It’s simple business, Mr. Miller. I’m sure you understand being one of the more important people in Dad’s business. You probably snuck into Dad’s office late one night dressed as a very important trucker and replaced every resume with yours. When Dad read the resumes he probably exclaimed, “I want to hire this Mr. Miller gentleman and pay him one figure for each one of his resumes I have in my hand!” You’re quite crafty, Mr. Miller.

Well, I’m off to buy a blonde wig and long bow. We’ll make sure to put you in the credits as an assistant something-or-other.

-Danny

The Open Road – Letter 9

Mr. Miller,

It’s day two in Hollywood, and I never thought I’d say it, but I’m beginning to think this ain’t too bad a place. There’s plenty of sunshine, fresh air, and bacon to go around.

Danny’s actually beginning to grow on me too. Yes, the asshole handcuffed me to Barbara, my beloved truck, and re-routed us here. But you know what? That took a hell of a lot of balls. If that little twerp can manage to handcuff ME to a passenger seat and bring us to Hollywood instead of Seattle, maybe he’s got what it takes to be a trucker after all.

Yesterday at the diner Danny read me his letter to you. And as the words he spoke entered my ears, they smuggled along with them a bit of respect for the kid.

I decided to bring him into a diner instead of leaving him on the side of the road because, as I’m sure you know, being victorious in a good brawl brings out the best in a man. And as he recounted the tale of my beating the living shit out of those stupid ass video game geeks and knocking him unconscious with a single punch, I realized that we actually DO make a good team.

I’m the brawn, and he’s…the one with the money and video game skills. He’s got just the right balance of fear and respect for me, which is the only way to gain my approval. And maybe with a little polishing, trucKING Royalty can really be made into a great flick.

So, being a good trucker, I’ve had one of the guys pick up our load for us. It’s on the way to Seattle as we speak. Danny seems to have an unending supply of cash thanks to his dad, so we’ll be staying here in Hollywood for a bit.

I already wrangled my way into a position as a security guard for a major motion picture studio. The plan Danny and I have so far is to either become a well-respected staff member and respectfully request a meeting with a producer, or sneak in during the middle of the night and replace every shooting script with ours.

We’re not sure which direction to head in yet.

But either way, we’ll keep you posted on our whereabouts — I’m sure Danny’s father probably wants to make sure he’s still alive.

Wish us luck,

– Eddie

The Open Road – Letter 8

Mr. Miller,

Hollywood has treated us quite worse than I had expected. Although our trip hasn’t been entirely fruitless, it appears that getting a movie deal involves a little more than just being in Hollywood. That’s alright, I’ve got plenty of time and a decent sum of money to get the greatest Lighthearted Buddy Comedy in the history of everything made.

The evening I arrived in Hollywood I met up with a couple of my Halo buddies for a tournament in order to earn my budget for the flick. I’m admittedly pretty dominant thanks to Dad paying for lessons, so I breezed through the first couple of rounds. I made it to the final match and it just so happened that I was facing the largest and most muscular member of a rival crew, “Teh Crunkpwnrz.” I got the decisive victory, but this gentleman was none too happy about some of my post-game comments (I still stand by my calling him the Loserest Loser of Losingberg) and he and his crew started to chase me down.

I managed to escape them for a bit, but they pursued me all the way back to the truck. I explained to Eddie my situation and was faced with a difficult decision. Do I release Eddie and run the risk of him beating me down for his imprisonment or keep him chained up and receive the beating of a lifetime? I couldn’t possibly defend myself against all Teh Crunkpwnrz!

I released Eddie and he proceeded to bash each Crunkpwnr into oblivion. Who knew that a 30-something grizzled trucker could handle a handful of 16-20 year-olds obsessed with video gaming? Then he knocked me out with a single punch to the side of the head.

I woke up in a diner with Eddie sitting across from me, eating a plateful of bacon. He handed me a pen and paper and told me to write you.

I hope I’ve convinced Eddie enough to stay in Hollywood with me and get our movie made. It would be the ultimate ending to our epic journey and I would probably cry the entire way up to Seattle if he didn’t stay.

-Danny