Imagine a world where Eddie Murphy never lost any of his white hot 1980s popularity. That was the world I visited in my dreams last night. Eddie was the new Elvis. Delirious and Raw were shown regularly on public transportation to keep commuters happy. Arsenio was still Eddie’s right hand man, and together they were working on some kind of large comedy science experiment throughout the country. Like, they were traveling to school parking lots and shopping centers putting on a weird 19th Century style road show that had the ultimate goal of proving something about America’s taste in comedy. Eddie and Arsenio were literally wearing lab coats for this experiment. I woke up before any conclusive data could be presented.
All that talk about Eddie Murphy in my last post reminded me of the time I found a copy of what I believe was the shooting script for Eddie’s 1995 misfire Vampire in Brooklyn in a pawn shop/thrift store in Orange City, FL. It looked pretty official—it was all fat and Hollywood-looking, with Charles Q. Murphy’s name typed right on the front. They wanted seven dollars for it; being extraordinarily broke at the time, that seemed like six dollars too many. I decided to save my hard-earned cash for another glorious, greasy feast at the neighboring Arby’s.
I often lie awake at night and wonder what the hell I was thinking. In retrospect, a copy of the Vampire in Brooklyn script strikes me as a much smarter long-term investment than a box of curly fries. Think of how much more interesting my life would be if I had that script. It would be an incredible conversation piece. I’d be the toast of my apartment complex. I’d earn the instant respect of my peers. More importantly, I’d finally have an heirloom worthy of the Greene name, something I could pass on to my children and my children’s children.
Goddammit, I really dropped the ball on that one. I could be on Easy Street right now. Instead, all I got are a few severely clogged arteries and a mountain of self-loathing crushing my weak, pathetic little heart. Oh well. At least I touched the Vampire in Brooklyn script. I’m sure that’s warded off some horrible disease that was bound to afflict and cripple me otherwise.