The Cardboard Jungle

The Cardboard Jungle. (O.K., Foam Core maybe.)

(Three men, trekking over lots of rocks at night)

(Moranis-type, wearing a Fedora): Snakes! Why’d you kill it? It was just laying there asleep?

I din’t kill it. It was just a prop. See. Made you turn green, huh?

What is this place? It looks like Nebraska.

According to the GPS, we are now in the Amazon.

That’s not a GPS. It’s an iPhone.

The Amazon? How’d we get here without Passports?

NAFTA. We just drove our semi down, remember?

Nope. I wus asleep, remember?

You sure this is not Nebraska? Looks more like Canada.

So? Where’s the bathroom?

– – –

My fist went right through that wall. What’s it made of?

Oh, this and that. Brick-a-Brack. . . . Cardboard, mostly.

If that’s what all this is made of, what’s holding back the river?!

Sheetmetal.

– – –

At long last they found it.

Rings and things, glinting in torch light. Jade. Ivory. Gold, among the rocks.

Guys. This isn’t right. We should go now.

(people come out of the shadows, surrounding them)

Ow! Stop with the poking already! We give!

Somebody turn on the lights.

Lights? This is the jungle!

(Lights come on – Luminaires, on poles and tripods)

What you poke me with, Jamaican?

Curare. You will feel your legs again – in about a month. (laugh)

Curare?! Shouldn’t we all be dead?

Nah. Just Novocain. We need you guys to haul all this stuff for us.

At what rate?

– – –

Nah. We planted that story. There’s no treasure here.

Cool ‘adventure’ though. You aught to charge admission.

That’s not treasure – We bought that stuff at the flea market, so you could find it.

I thought that looked familiar.

Oh, not me, when I was a kid, my mom and aunt dragged me to flea markets.

That bag you’re carrying to put the treasure in – I could get a cool million just for that.

Gucci?

– – –

I don’ want any of that. I just want Vanessa!

Vanessa? Sweet Vanessa? (laughter) She runs this place.

– – –

Gone was the picturesque village. In its place was a high mound of dirt, with a couple of fires up at the top.

So, what’s in this trailer we been hauling down here?

Take a look – Cardboard sets for an Inca Temple.

It’s not Inca – It’s Aztec.

It’s not Aztec – It’s Mayan!

It’s not Mayan – It’s Foam Core!

– – –

If this is a jungle, where’s all the trees?

They were all cut down for your bookcase.

Just a pile of dirt. Not even a temple here. No trap doors.

(they fall through a hidden trap door into a metal room)

What’s all this?

(Major Mayforth) Strategic Air Command.

SAC? Here in the jungle?

Well, its not SAC. Its the Army, actually. We are chasing drug lords.

You’re Canadian, aren’t you?

Oh, you’d noticed?

So? No missiles?

Nope. Just metal rooms with coke machines.

I could use one of those about now. Anyone got change?

– – –

So, the villagers got their temple. I got the girl. There was no treasure, just Pick N’ Save. . . . What was all of this for?

(All) Tourists!

They bring the trees next week.

And hire Jamaicans to be the tribes-people. They look more authentic.

What about the villagers?

Oh, they all dress up in suits now, to work in town.

Quebec?

Yeah, Montreal.

– – –

(Fade to credits)

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