Plame: The movie!

This is probably the least cinematic story ever committed to script.

EXT. HOTEL POOL, NIGER:

TITLE OVER in green, beepy, digital-looking letters: "Radisson Hotel, Niamey, Niger."

Joe Wilson, a paunchy diplomat with stringy hair, reclines by the pool. He wears a Speedo and sunglasses. Langorously, he sips from a small teacup.

ABACHA, a Nigerien mine manager, enters the pool area. Wilson rises and shakes his hand.

WILSON
Mister Abacha, it is good to see you again, my friend.

ABACHA
And you, Ambassador Wilson.

Wilson squirts suntan lotion over his legs and belly and begins to rub it in.

WILSON
Sweet mint tea?

ABACHA
Sweet mint...what the hell? Give me a beer, Joe, and put on a towel or something.

WILSON
Quit staring. I'm a very private person.

ABACHA
Was there something you wanted?

WILSON
Have you seen any Iraqis trying to buy uranium lately?

ABACHA
Iraqis? No.

EXTREME CLOSE UP on Joe Wilson's craggy face.
MUSIC: A sharp, jarring chord.

WILSON
(Rips off sunglasses, a la David Caruso)
Are you sure?

ABACHA
Hmmm...yeah, pretty sure.

WILSON
Well...Okey dokey then.

ABACHA starts to leave.

WILSON
(loudly)
Wait.

ABACHA turns to face him. Wilson stares at him, his jaw set.

WILSON
Think back really hard. Iraq. The one with a Q.

ABACHA
I've heard of it. No, no one from there.

WILSON
Because there's the other one with the N.

ABACHA
I was aware of that. The answer is still no, no one from Iraq with a "Q".

WILSON
Don't you care about yellowcake?

He snaps on the sunglasses and begins walking out of frame.

WILSON (cont'd.)
Because yellowcake should concern us all.

FADE OUT

It gets even more exciting. Sources in Hollywood have already provided the JYB News Bureau with the preview for this film, and it looks like they've tried to punch it up a little:

I know, it...it all sounds like some bad movie!

Exit Question: How silly can you get?