Work Text:
ALLSTATE INTERNAL CONFIDENTIAL DOCUMENT
Here's the full set of proposed scripts. Remember, zero actionable likenesses or Stark's lawyers will have our heads. Cap's okay, he's public domain.
Chitauri Invasion
EXTERIOR: BLUE SKY
Mayhem, a white man in a rumpled black suit with a bandage over one eyebrow, plummets toward the camera with his arms outstretched. Wind whistles and tears at his hair and clothing. He has to shout over it to be heard. This does not seem to bother him.
MAYHEM: I'm the Chitauri invasion!
He swoops closer, making grabby-grabby claw motions with his fingers.
MAYHEM: About sixty seconds ago, I came pouring out of the sky from who-knows-where, wanting who-knows-what. But boy howdy, have I got a lot of teeth!
He bares his teeth for emphasis. The view switches to show he is swooping down into a tiny CGI New York City. He takes swipes at buildings to punctuate his next words, still flying around wildly.
MAYHEM: And a real! Grudge! Against! Infrastructure!
He flies lower, casually dragging a shoe down Fifth Avenue. The road surface rumples up in a trough around his toe, and water sprays from ruptured pipes.
MAYHEM: I'll be outta here in an hour or so, with the help of some civic-minded do-gooders, leaving a truly epic corpse cleanup job. But if your city went with cut-rate public works insurance, someone is gonna have to pick up the repair bill. Whoa!
He flails, dragging a bridge down and demolishing several more buildings as he crashes cheek-first to the pavement, which crazes in all directions.
MAYHEM: Maybe they'll hold a bake sale or something. Not my problem. So get Allstate, and be better protected from Mayhem like me.
He closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out in a cartoon 'dead' gesture.
Captain America's Shield
INTERIOR: NEW YORK CITY APARTMENT
MAYHEM jumps through the picture window of a small, densely furnished and decorated studio apartment. His entrance sprays shattered glass everywhere. He is wearing a red-white-and-blue helmet with a white star on top, in addition to his usual outfit.
MAYHEM: I'm Captain America's shield.
He barrels forward, bashing headfirst into a china cabinet, then careens off toward the kitchenette.
MAYHEM: I'm made of impossibly rare technical alloys and ricochet in ways that seem like they defy the laws of physics, or at least probability.
He sweeps an entire shelf of expensive glassware and alcohol down with one arm, then spikes a bottle of vodka into the stovetop as he runs off toward the opposite wall again.
MAYHEM: Which is how I'm going to cross your apartment at least six times between being thrown by a good guy and going back out the window to hit a bad guy!
He bashes his helmet against the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the drywall, knocks over a large porcelain vase, and heads back toward a decorative wall mirror, which he shatters with his head.
MAYHEM: And if your cut-rate renter's insurance only covers damage caused by bad guys, you could end up paying for this one-hundred-percent heroic good-guy action yourself.
He runs into the bathroom and knocks the toilet over, then runs back out. Water begins spreading across the floor.
MAYHEM: So get Allstate.
He jumps on the bed to bash through an enormous oil painting of a soulful-looking dog, plus the wall behind it.
MAYHEM: And be better protected from Mayhem like me.
He gets a good running start and leaps back out through the remaining one-third of the window that was still hanging in the frame.
Angry Neighbor
EXTERIOR: RESIDENTIAL FRONT LAWN, DAY
MAYHEM is standing on the sidewalk in front of a classic six-bedroom home. White picket fence, two-car garage, cheerful lawn ornaments, the works. He has his hands in his pockets.
MAYHEM: I'm your next-door neighbor with a temper problem. A really, really big temper problem.
DISPLAY DISCLAIMER TEXT: Hypothetical situation. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
MAYHEM: I've been having a pretty good day! Howdy, neighbor.
DISTRACTED WOMAN drives up in a midsize car and gives him half a wave, but seems to be in a hurry. She does not slow down. The car drives through a convenient but improbable mud puddle, spattering MAYHEM's chest and face. He scrunches his face, takes his hands out of his pockets, and looks down at the mess, shocked. She winces and mouths 'Sorry' before pulling into the driveway. The automatic garage door begins to roll open.
MAYHEM: Well, I was having a pretty good day. Now I have some pent-up aggression to burn off. Rrrrhaaaahn!
He lifts his arms in the air and starts stomping, implying that he is getting much bigger. He turns toward the car. She is getting out of the car, looking alarmed. He steps forward, pushing his foot against the picket fence so it falls over in one piece as he steps.
MAYHEM: Maybe I'll process my feelings of envy that your car is newer than mine.
He reaches forward, still several paces from the car, and mimes pulling it apart. It splits down the middle with lots of ripping metal effects. She is standing on the other side, keys in hand, mouth open in shock.
MAYHEM: Or how annoying it is that you leave your holiday decorations in the front window until June.
He makes a flinging motion. The front half of the car flies through the air and into the front of the house, right through the living room window decorated with large snowflake Christmas lights. Much shattering glass, and the car alarm begins to go off. So do the sprinklers, soaking him.
MAYHEM: Oh, and that car alarm. Ugh. Hey, remember how you gloated at me about your new boat?
He reaches toward the open garage door and a large speedboat hauls itself out, still on its trailer. It is black with red highlights and is named "Natasha Roamin' Off" with a lipstick print to either side of the name. He wrinkles his nose at it.
MAYHEM: Classy.
He moves his arm up and down several times to whack the boat and trailer on the garage roof, destroying both.
MAYHEM: You know what, that was cathartic. I'm feeling better. Have a nice day, neighbor!
He waves. She waves cautiously. He walks away, framed by the background of destroyed property.
MAYHEM: If you got cut-rate insurance, I might break your bank, too. So get Allstate. Save a bundle on a comprehensive bundle and be better protected from Mayhem like me.
Fancy Alien Bling
INTERIOR: WAREHOUSE
A cavernous warehouse full of people fighting in action movie mode. Some are dressed as identical COMMANDOS, while others are unique brightly dressed HEROES. There is dodging, gunfire, and leaping around walls of crates. MAYHEM stands in the middle, untroubled, walking closer to the camera.
MAYHEM: I'm a piece of fancy alien bling that Earth's next wannabe conqueror brought with him. And I just booped your nose.
He reaches out and prods just below the camera, making it wobble.
MAYHEM: Boop! You work for my boss now. Shoot that guy.
He points, and one of the HEROES falls over.
MAYHEM: And that one. That one.
Two more HEROES fall over, both dramatically looking shocked and betrayed at the camera.
MAYHEM: Hey, you're pretty good at this!
One of the COMMANDOS gives MAYHEM a high-five, then gives a thumbs-up to the camera.
MAYHEM: Let's go rob a bank. It'll be great, you'll love it. Actually, I don't care if you love it or not. And neither will the people who want you to pay damages when all this is over. If you went with cut-rate inagency insurance, this little mind control party might not be covered. So get Allstate. And be better protected from Mayhem like me.
He pauses, then grins.
MAYHEM: Hey. Do a little dance.
The camera wobbles up and down. He laughs.
Act of God
EXTERIOR: RENFAIRE, DAY
MAYHEM stands under an awning in an outdoor bar where REENACTORS in various period costumes are sitting at fake rustic tables and drinking from fake rustic mugs. Behind him is a GOD with massive linebacker shoulders and his blond hair in two braids. GOD sits with his back to the camera and wears a more authentic-looking Viking costume, heavy on the furs, with an iron helmet. Camera angles should stay behind him at all times, avoiding his face.
MAYHEM: I'm an Act of God. Well. An act of a god. This god.
DISPLAY DISCLAIMER TEXT: Hypothetical situation. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
GOD grunts, irritated. MAYHEM grabs the mug from his hand and throws it on the concrete floor hard enough to break it. GOD walks away, with MAYHEM pacing him. A WAITRESS in a very corseted costume runs over to clean it up.
MAYHEM: Everything he does, from brushing his teeth in the morning to calling down destruction on his enemies, is me! I'm pretty busy.
GOD walks over to a rack of colorful jousting weapons, brushing past someone trying to get him to sign a consent form. He picks up a huge lance and tests it in his hands.
MAYHEM: Here, lemme get that for you.
MAYHEM breaks the lance in half over his knee and drops it on the ground. GOD tries another one, making dissatisfied noises. During the following dialogue, they cooperate in breaking four lances while REENACTORS converge, trying to stop them.
MAYHEM: He came out here to have a good time, and he's honestly feeling so attacked right now. It's hurtful.
GOD stomps off, pushing aside several REENACTORS. MAYHEM follows up with a hard shove to each, knocking them over.
MAYHEM: Hang on, I might be busy in a minute.
GOD raises his open arms to the clear sky, which promptly goes dark. MAYHEM moves his arms up and down while doing finger wiggles to simulate rain falling, whistles a long note, and claps his hands together once. With a rumble of thunder, drenching rain pours down on the entire scene at once. High wind makes costumes and awnings flap wildly. Furniture is wobbling. MAYHEM pushes some of it over. Cries of alarm and dialogue are shouted over the wind.
MAYHEM: Your cut-rate event insurance probably thinks I belong in the fine print. I mean, how often do gods show up and rain on your parade?
MAYHEM follows GOD back into the bar, where everyone scatters out of their path. He rushes ahead to pull out a bench and bring a fresh mug to GOD who slouches down and drinks it sullenly. The wind is still howling.
MAYHEM: So get Allstate. And be better protected from Mayhem like me.
GOD points at an abandoned mug. MAYHEM smacks it to the floor like a cat.
No Filter
INTERIOR: DINER
A low-end greasy spoon, the kind that serves enormous breakfasts and puts jars of crayons on the table. An EATING MAN in a baseball cap sits in a booth with a cheeseburger in front of him. MAYHEM is behind him, leaning over the seat of the next booth.
MAYHEM: I'm your complete lack of brain-to-mouth filter. Look, there's a fight outside!
A tinkle of glass, then lots of hand-to-hand combat noises, suggesting a kung-fu movie with occasional metal on metal and thrown objects. There is one female voice amid the exclamations and 'oof' noises. MAN turns to watch.
MAYHEM: And now there's a fight inside. Wow, that lady really knows how to throw a punch. You should talk to her.
MAN cups his hands around his mouth to hide lip movement, but is clearly shouting. MAYHEM shouts along as a voiceover.
MAYHEM: (wolf-whistle) You're hot! Want to get together later?
Fight continues.
MAYHEM: Make sure she knows you respect her as a person. (shouting) You're crushing it, babe! I love the way you move when you knock out bad guys!
A classic jukebox sails into frame and knocks MAN over, so he is hidden by the table and pinned by the jukebox, which keeps colorfully blinking. It is followed by a full coffee carafe which shatters against the wall and splashes down. MAN yelps. A butcher's knife thunks into the wall and vibrates with a twang. MAYHEM looks down at MAN.
MAYHEM: I'm sure that was an accident.
The jukebox moves weakly, but not enough for someone to get out. MAN groans.
MAYHEM: But if you skimped on disability insurance, this conversation might leave your bank account hurting for a while. So get Allstate, and be better protected from Mayhem like me.
Wormhole Generator
EXTERIOR: ROOF OF TALL UNNAMED TOWER, DAY
MAYHEM is standing on a mostly empty flat roof, holding up an antenna that is an obvious prop made from a car antenna, aluminum foil, a silver pinwheel, and any other junk that looks amusing. Strong wind tugs at his clothes and makes the pinwheel spin.
MAYHEM: I'm a wormhole generator. (mouth noises) Whrrrrrrrrrrrrr, wom, wom, wom, wom, wom.
He waves the antenna in the air, but otherwise keeps his arm straight up.
MAYHEM: Ping!
A CGI vortex opens in the sky overhead and swirls dramatically.
MAYHEM: I just opened a wormhole to somewhere a long way away. Might be a different dimension. Not actually sure.
He squints up at it.
MAYHEM: Yeah, not sure. Now, you may think this looks like a good place to dump your nuclear waste, or maybe you just like going new places. It looks pretty compelling. But if it closes and you're on the other side? (mouth noises ending with a "powering down" sound) Boop! Noouuurrrrrrrrrrr.
His arm wilts down, lowering the antenna. The vortex closes with a little "pop" sound.
MAYHEM: Your cut-rate travel insurance might not pay for a ticket home. So get Allstate. And be better protected from Mayhem like me.
Modern Science
[Note: We know it's a reach and we don't have an anchor hero for it, but Product Development requested this script specifically, and let's be fair, the product is absolutely post-hero paradigm.]
INTERIOR: OFFICE
A small WORRIED MAN in a suit sits at a desk heaped with paperwork. He is trying to fill out a paper form with one hand and type on a laptop with the other. An orange tabby CAT watches with interest from the top of a filing cabinet. MAYHEM leans his hip against the desk.
MAYHEM: I'm a triumph of modern science. Everyone thought you were toast. Held a funeral and everything. But you're back! You're welcome. Now you've gotta tell everyone.
As he continues, he takes forms from the stacks and tosses them one at a time over MAN's hands, obscuring his work and causing dismayed noises.
MAYHEM: Gotta get your ID back, all your social media accounts . . . Oh. And your family spent the life insurance money.
MAN puts head in his hands, rubbing his forehead.
MAYHEM: Good luck proving it wasn't fraud!
MAYHEM drops a whole stack of papers on MAN's head. CAT runs across the laptop keyboard, swatting at the fluttering papers. MAN scrambles to contain both CAT and papers.
MAYHEM: Without a resurrection policy, you might be trying to fix this for the rest of your miraculously extended life. So get Allstate, and be better protected from Mayhem like me.
MAN gives up and curls up under his desk. CAT takes his place in the chair. MAYHEM leans down to talk to him.
MAYHEM: Or I guess you could try running away to Tahiti. It's a magical place.