UnScripts:The Sex Changer
This script art a part of
The UnScripts Project
Your personal Shakspearian folio of humor, love, woe and other silly emotions.
The Sex Changer is an inspirational, feel-good film about following your dreams, no matter how sick, twisted, or perverted they are, starring famous elderly actor Dennis Wandbury, along with talented child actors (both of whom, coincidentally, were related to the director) Benny Tifton and Bitsy Boodlekins. This film is a production of Semi-National Films.
An old, slightly sweaty man walks into a large, luxurious room, lights several candles, and sits down in a comfortable looking arm chair. A young boy, by the name of KENNY, skips into the room merrily, carrying a crayon, and walks up to his grandfather.
KENNY: Gee whiz, Grandpa! I sure had a swell time outside playing ball! I was looking at your big house, and I was curious about something. You sure are rich! How did you ever come to have this much money?
GRANDPA: Well, I'll tell you. (Grandpa lights a pipe and starts blowing smoke rings). You see, there was a time when I had very little money indeed. That was before I found my American dream: I wanted to be a surgeon who changed people's sex!
GRANDPA: Even in early childhood I knew that was what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to change men to women, and women to men!
KENNY: WHAT???? (He throws up violently, then passes out. Grandpa doesn't notice.)
GRANDPA: Yes, it all started when I was seven years old, and I opened up a roadside sex change stand. For $0.85, I'd give a person a full change to the opposite sex, and for a special discount rate of $0.70, I'd chop off their existing private parts but not give them new ones. It didn't do too well, I only had one customer, and it was an old woman who mistook it for a lemonade stand. Also, performing sex change procedures was very difficult, as the only supplies I had were two pairs of scissors, several pieces of cardboard, some crayons, and some elmer's glue.
Grandpa puffs on the pipe, looks at it with discontent, and tosses it over his shoulder. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a syringe of heroin as he continues his story.
GRANDPA: But I managed all right with the few supplies I had. In hindsight, I'd say the procedure went pretty well; the cardboard penis stayed on her for a full hour before dropping off, and she went for a full four days before killing herself.
Kenny opens his eyes, and sits up, looking nauseous.
GRANDPA: Then they locked me up in a juvenile detention center.
The scene dissolves into a flashback. Young Grandpa is in a cell with a very fat boy, TERENCE.
Young Grandpa: Hey. You wouldn't, by any chance, want a sex change, would ya?
TERENCE: What the fuck is a sex change?
Young Grandpa: I'd change you into a girl.
TERENCE: How the hell are you supposed to do that?
Young Grandpa: Well, I couldn't really, but I could...you know...draw some boobs, and maybe...tape them to you..
TERENCE: No way, man... (A butterfly flies through the window. Terence grabs it, rips its wings off, and eats it.)
The scene fades back to the present. Grandpa leans back in his armchair, shooting heroine reflectively, and Kenny lies on the floor, his mouth slightly open, looking like he's going to faint again.
GRANDPA: After I got out of the juvenile detention center, I moved to Las Angeles, shaved my head, and got a few tattoos. I spent a few months doing nothing but getting drunk and hanging around with prostitutes and homeless people. Then, I decided it was time I got back to my dream of being a professional sex changer. So, I stole a hot dog cart from a street vendor. I planned to cross out "Hot Dogs" and write "Sex Changes" instead. I began regularly walking the streets of the city, trying to get people to get a sex change. Then I turned 11.
Kenny screams, covering his ears, and starts banging his head against the floor of the room. Grandpa doesn't notice.
GRANDPA: But things weren't going all that well with the business. I tried everything...postage stamps, coffee mugs...but no matter how much merchandise I attached advertisements to, nobody seemed remotely interested. I even tried offering "two for the price of one," in which I'd turn a man into a woman, then back into a man again, with only an 89% chance of impotency. But still, nobody took up my offer. After 8 years of marching around with the cart, I realized that I had made a fatal mistake; I forgot to write "Changes"! I had been marching around for 8 years with a cart that said "Sex: With ketchup, $1.00. With ketchup and mustard, $1.10." So I quickly added "changes" to the cart, and continued to march around. But still, nobody seemed interested, until the sixties rolled around...
Grandpa grins, and attempts to blow a smoke ring out of the syringe before remembering that it is, indeed, a syringe. He shoots a bit of heroine, bellows loudly, falls out of the chair, then crawls back onto it, drooling slightly. He pants for several seconds, then continues his story.
GRANDPA: Suddenly, people were randomly getting sex changes every day. It was as if I had spontaneously appeared in another city. I changed people's sex on their way to work, while they were waiting at bus stops, while they were on their way to dates...I even had one person who got a sex change from me every single day on their way to work for 8 months. They changed genders more often than some people changed clothes.
A young girl, DAISY, skips into the room.
DAISY: (to her brother) Hi, Kenny! What are you doing?
Kenny makes an indistinct gurgling noise
GRANDPA: I'm telling him a story.
DAISY: Not the same one you told cousin Betty, I hope...the one about...what was it...the stripper? And the fork? Poor Betty, I wonder if she's still in the mental institution...
GRANDPA: Oh no, not that story! That story's about your Grandma Sue! No, I'm telling him about how I came to be such a filthy rich bastard.
DAISY: Oooh! Sounds nifty!
Daisy sits down next to her brother, who has begun pulling his hair out.
GRANDPA: So anyway, I started making money by the truckload as more and more people were getting sex changes. (Daisy starts screaming) So, I decided to invest the money I had made and buy myself a real office, so I could set up a practice. I bought a lovely building, and called it Doctor Smith's Sex Change Surgeries. I'm not sure why I called it that, as I wasn't a doctor and my name wasn't Smith...but anyway, it was great. My choice of buildings was poor at first though, I must say. I started out right next to a Catholic church. As you can imagine, I moved away from there fairly quickly. My second choice of location was much better, right between a preschool and a meat packing industry that made hamburgers, I believe. It was good to be next to a preschool because kids walked in every once in a while, thinking it was an ice cream shop. As for the meat packing industry, they weren't nearly as bad as the Catholic Church. The meat packers never complained about our institution being immoral, and in return, we never asked them questions about what they did with the penises they occasionally stole from our freezer.
Both children start having epileptic seizures. Grandpa doesn't notice.
Grandpa finishes up his heroin, then rummages in his pocket, removing some opium, which he ingests as he continues his story.
GRANDPA: Now, children, you're probably wondering what it was like for one of my patients, someone who, after many years of consideration (or, in some cases, a drunken bet), decided they wanted to become a member of the opposite sex.
Neither children nod, because both are on the ground, making low moaning sounds. Grandpa continues talking.
GRANDPA: Well, normally I would say that I couldn't tell you what it was like for the average customer, but thanks to the spectacular cinematic device known as the Flashback, I can, with ease. You see, our business was going downhill, but thanks to one of our greatest customers, we managed to pull our business through.
The camera promptly fades out, and fades back in on a man by the name of CHUCK, standing on the sidewalk, staring at Doctor Smith's Sex Change Surgeries with obvious interest. After contemplating for a minute, he walks into the building, and is greeted by a female receptionist with a beard.
RECEPTIONIST: Hello, sir. How may I help you?
CHUCK: Well, I was going to go out for a haircut, but I saw your building and decided that maybe I should get a sex change instead. I'd like to become a woman, I suppose.
RECEPTIONIST: Very well sir, if you would follow me please, I can lead you into our waiting room, which doubles as a trophy room.
She stands up, and walks into another room, with Chuck following close behind. They walk into a gigantic room, filled with comfortable looking chairs. A tank full of dead fish sits in the corner. The walls are covered in framed private parts from previous customers.
CHUCK: Oh my god! Are those real?
RECEPTIONIST: (looks down at her Boobs) No, they're water balloons. Can you tell?
Chuck looks confused, and sits down in a nearby chair.
CHUCK: Am...I your only customer?
RECEPTIONIST: Our only one in weeks, actually. We've been having some hard times lately, ever since they opened up a McDonald's down the street where they give customers sex changes while they wait for their food. They've been tough competition. I ask that you wait here while Dr. Smith finishes watching America's Funniest Home Videos. When he's done, I'm sure he'd be glad to operate on you.
RECEPTIONIST: People in the waiting room usually read magazines while they wait, but the meat packing industry just took all our magazines to make them into hamburger buns. So...well, if you get bored, why don't you have a chat with your penis? I imagine there are some things you'd like to discuss!
The receptionist walks out of the room. Chuck takes his pants off and looks down at his penis awkwardly.
CHUCK: Well, old buddy, I guess this is goodbye! You were a good penis. Except that one time in seventh grade when you got hard when I was in my bathing suit, and my mom saw. That sucked. It's no offense to you personally, old pal, it's just that...either you or my hair was getting cut off today, and I like my hair better than you.
A man walks into the room, with a butcher knife. It is Grandpa, but many years younger, and wearing a nametag saying "Dr. Smith."
CHUCK: Um, hi. Are you the doctor?
SMITH: I am indeed.
He shakes hands with Chuck, unfortunately shaking hands with the hand holding the butcher knife, and cutting one of Chuck's fingers off.
CHUCK: AAAAAAUGGGGH!!! Dammit! My finger!!!
SMITH: Sorry! Uuuh...I can fix that! Uhhh..look over there!
Smith points his finger to the other end of the room. Chuck turns around, and as he does so, Smith sweeps Chuck's finger under the carpet of the room.
SMITH: Never mind. So you'd like to get a sex change, eh?
CHUCK: I would indeed.
SMITH: Excellent! Follow me.
An operating table is wheeled into the room by a nurse, with Chuck strapped to it.
NURSE: Okay, how long would you like your lapdance to be?
NURSE: Oh, I'm sorry! I got this confused with my night job. So you want to become a woman, huh?
CHUCK: I do indeed.
NURSE: (pulling out a sheet of paper) And what would you like your name to be?
NURSE: TIME'S UP! I'll write "Gertrude Jiggletitty." Is that all right?
NURSE: Alright, I'll change it to "Gertrude Tittyjiggle." Ah, here comes the doctor!
Dr. Smith walks into the room, picking his nose.
SMITH: Okay, Chuck, take your clothes off!
SMITH: Well we can't very well start chopping things off if your clothes are on now, can we?
CHUCK: Um...shouldn't you...like...sanitize yourself before you start?
SMITH: Oh, I see, gonna be a picky one, are we? Fine! (He pulls a bottle of laundry detergent out of his pocket, and halfheartedly pours some on his hands, then dumps the rest on the floor). All right, I'm sanitized! Now take your clothes off, dammit!
Chuck removes his clothes. Smith puts them in a cardboard box, and hands it to his secretary.
SMITH: Take this over to the meat packing factory, will you? Put it in the shed marked "sausage casings".
Smith turns to his nurse.
SMITH: Okay. Now, to start the surgery.
SMITH: Alright nurse, get the instruments!
The nurse pulls a chainsaw out of her bag
SMITH: No, no, no, we only use chainsaws on the really tough cases...you know, like when those boobs just won't come off? Or that IRS agent just won't stop pestering us about the electric bills?
NURSE: Oh yeah...(she throws the chainsaw out the window, and somebody in the street below screams loudly)
SMITH: We use a hacksaw!
NURSE: Oh, right!
The nurse pulls one out of her bag
CHUCK: (horrified) Shouldn't you...I don't know...anesthetize me, or something?
SMITH: Look, bastard. JAG is going to be on in a half an hour, and I'm not going to miss it for anything. I've only seen this episode 80 times. (He pauses, and takes a deep breath). Okay. I've been doing these surgeries for over 20 years now, and only about half my patients end up dieing. You can trust me! I'm a doctor! Well, not really, but still, trust me anyway!
SMITH: Good! Nurse, let's proceed!
The nurse heads towards Chuck's head
SMITH: NO, NO, Sue! That's his head! We want his penis!
Sue starts cutting off Chuck's foot
SMITH: (chuckling warmly) Oh, don't mind Sue! She's not a very good nurse, but she's a step above my old nurse, a blindfolded chimpanzee named Jill...and anyway, even if Sue does occasionally kill my patients, she does have a sexy pair of legs...
SMITH: Aw, I suppose I'll do this myself. I'm a bit rusty, you're our first customer in about a year. Oh well, nothing that a bit of absynthe won't clear up...(he takes out a hip flask and unceremoniously chugs it, burping loudly)...anyway...HIC!...let's get this penis off!
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Chuck is still lying on the operating table. Smith is in the middle of operating on Chuck's chest, and is simultaneously watching a TV.
SMITH: Oooh, this is a good episode!
SMITH: Ooops. Sorry about that. Well, the artificial hearts these days are very efficient, very efficient...
CHUCK: What the hell are you doing?
SMITH: I am attempting to give you a pair of boobs! Now kindly stop squirming!
SMITH: Yes. Well, watermelons actually. I'll staple some to your chest. Nobody will know the difference.
CHUCK: WHAT? OW! (Chuck winces as the watermelons are attached). What? You gave me six of them?
SMITH: I did? (counts) oh yeah, I did! Well, what difference does an extra pair or two make? The more feminine the better, right? (pause) DAMMIT! The TV is broken again!
For the next 30 minutes, Smith and the nurse set to work repairing the TV, while Chuck remains strapped to the operating table.
Smith and the nurse watch "Hee-Haw" together, laughing uproariously.
CHUCK: UM...HELLO? Have you forgotten who is strapped to an operating table, halfway between a man and a woman, and bleeding?
SMITH: OH! Sorry buddy, forgot you were here! Where were we? Oh yeah, boobs!
Smith staples several more melons to Chuck's chest
CHUCK: YOU ALREADY DID THAT!
SMITH: Right! Sorry about that, it's just that one of my contact lenses appears to have fallen out. It's probably somewhere in one of your arteries by now...(he shrugs)
NURSE: Not to interrupt, sir, but what should we do with his penis and his testicles?
SMITH: Eh, we could save the penis to play darts with. As for the balls, I dunno. What do you say we save them for the next time a health inspector comes, and wants olives in his martini?
CHUCK: WHAT? I thought I could keep them! I wanted to make a necklace out of them!
SMITH: Okay, fine, we'll give them to you after the surgery. Now, for the last part of the surgery, the vagina! Nurse, the drill please!
SMITH: Well, if you don't plan on having sex as a woman, I could just draw one with permanent marker.
CHUCK: Yeah, whatever!
Smith pulls a marker out of his pocket, and draws a large black dot between Chuck's legs. Then, he smeres glue around the dot, and glues several of his own hairs there.
CHUCK: Are you done yet?
SMITH: Yes, only one stage left, and you'll have completed your transformation into a woman!
Smith hands Chuck a DVD called "The very best of Oprah Winfrey"
SMITH: Congratulations, Gertrude, you are now a woman!
GERTRUDE: Am I really? WOW!!! (she gets up and examines herself. Her chest, covered in 8 watermelons, and the indesipherable scribble between her legs.) WOW!!! I'M A WOMAN!!!
She runs out into the street
GERTRUDE: HEY, EVERYBODY! I'M A WOMAN!!!!
The screen fades back to the present. Daisy has jumped out a window, and Kenny cutting his wrists mechanically. Grandpa doesn't notice.
GRANDPA: And Gertrude was a woman. Of course, the instant she got out into the street, she was raped, mugged, called a prostitute, and accosted by several men attempting to sell womanly weight loss products and birth control pills. She complained about this, and was promptly called a feminist and thrown in a ditch. She came back to the office the next day and requested that we turn her back into Chuck. So we did. Aside from a minor incident in which I accidentally attached Chuck's old penis to his nose (which he didn't notice until several years later), things went very smoothly, and we finished in time for me to catch the season finale of "The Benny Hill Show." Chuck was so happy about being a man again, he burned down the nearby McDonald's that provided sex changes, and the market was ours again. So we went from having no customers at all to 3 customers every two years, which was enough to pay the rent on the apartment.
Kenny bellows incoherently, but it sounds something like "KISS ME SATAN!!! I'M YOUR WALLABY!" He then goes back to cutting himself
GRANDPA: And then, I proposed marriage to my nurse, Sue by hiding a wedding ring inside one of our patient's scrotums. She thought it was a ringworm. It was very romantic. She accepted, and we got married. As a wedding present to all the guests, I gave free sex changes to every one of them, even the ones who didn't want them. Then, the sex change building burnt down, and I was flat broke, so your grandma Sue and I lived on welfare for the next 80 years. And that, young Kenny, is how old grandpa got his fortune!
Kenny gurgles incoherently, then crawls off to listen to Marylin Manson music and eat small animals.