There will be no Thursday article but MAKE SURE TO SUBMIT FOR LOGLINE SHOWDOWN! Entries are due Thursday by 10pm Pacific Time! I’ll post the five winning contestants at 12:01am Friday.
Genre: Thriller
Premise: A high-end courier has three hours to transport a liver from LAX to a Santa Barbara hospital to a dying seven-year-old girl with the rarest blood type on the planet while contending with the head of the Southland’s most dangerous crime syndicate, who needs the organ to survive.
About: I believe these are the writers who wrote “The Shave,” that thriller script from a previous Black List. The thing is, I know I reviewed that script but I can’t find the review. So I can’t be sure. If these are the same writers, then they’re good! Cause I thought that script, which was a thriller about a guy getting a shave (I know!) was fun.
Writers: Tommy White & Miles Hubley
Details: 105 pages
We are going OLD SCHOOL Scriptshadow today.
Say it with me now.
G.
S.
U.
Look, there are many ways to tell a story but when it comes to cinema, the way that best jostles the DNA cinema matrix is to give us a strong character, and give that character a GOAL, some HIGH STAKES, and some EXTREME URGENCY.
Disagree with me?
Well, you’re wrong. Wrong according to who? According to obviousness.
How GSU is this script? It doesn’t even start with FADE IN. It starts with LET’S GO. No, I’m serious!
Hank Malone, 40, is that actor on Reacher. At least that’s who I’m imagining. He’s giant and huge and big and strong and aggressively agitated. Hank is kinda like a fixer. He works for suspect people and takes care of a lot of ‘criminal adjacent’ problems (politicians who need clean up after a big orgy, rich old men who need their exotic birds transferred to their angry ex-wives). But the guy doesn’t kill anyone. He’s your friendly neighborhood ex-SEAL fixer.
Hank then gets a call from his handler, Izzy, to grab a liver from LAX and deliver it to Santa Barbara, about 90 minutes away, where the weather is preventing any planes from landing. That liver needs to get to Santa Barbara within 2 hours or a little girl, Ellie, 7, will die. This is a rare liver blood enzyme type (or something) that only comes around once in a decade. So this is this girl’s only chance.
When Hank gets to the airport, he’s met by Ben, who’s carrying the liver. Ben chats him up as he walks along until Hank finally asks him, “Yo, are you going to give me the liver or not??” Ben says, “Oh, no. I *am* the delivery. I’m the medical courier.” Hank is delivering the deliverer. This is something Hank was not told so he’s already pissed.
But he’s going to get more pissed – don’t worry. Half an hour into their trip, Hank spots an SUV trailing them. Hank’s spidey sense starts tingling and he calls Izzy. What’s going on, dude? Why do I have company? Izzy starts sounding all suspicious and it’s then when we realize Izzy’s under the control of someone else. SOMEONE ELSE WHO NEEDS THAT LIVER. A bad bad criminal man named Damien Gallow.
Damien hops on the phone and says, “Yo, all you have to do right now is stop the car, let us have the liver, and we’re gone. Or…… I kill Izzy.” Hank does about five decades worth of introspection in 10 seconds and decides that he’d rather help a little girl live than whoever this asshole needs the liver for. So Damien delivers on his promise and kills Izzy.
It turns out that Damien’s mom is some psycho crime boss named Donna who ALSO needs that liver in order to live. So Damien’s not going to go quietly into the night just because Hank decided he had a heart. Oh no. Damien is going to get that liver at all costs – Hank and Ben just don’t know it yet.
Runner is an odd duck of a GSU showcase.
Its first 30 pages are spectacular. The way it sets up Hank and the rest of the characters – I got a strong sense of who everyone was. And then it’s written in this fast-paced kinetic style, yet it never skimps too much on detail, preventing it from ever feeling thin.
There’s this scene around page 35 where Hank and Ben are pulled over by these bad guys. The scene just sits there in its suspense, soaking the silence up, as we wait for the bad guys to move. What are they going to do? That was the peak of the screenplay for me. The story AND the writing were firing on all cylinders.
Where things started to sputter was with Ben. I have no idea what this character was doing in the movie! He’s just there to hang around and talk to Hank. It’s very frustrating because the deeper into the script I went, the more I kept waiting for SOMETHING to happen that would indicate why Ben needed to be here. When nothing arrived, I thought for sure Ben was going to be a late 3rd act bad-guy twist. But no. Nothing. He’s literally just there to hold the liver.
I think I understand what the writers were doing. They thought, “If we have Hank in the car alone, there’s no dialogue. So we have to have someone there for exposition and to introduce important plot beats.” But that’s not how screenwriting works. You can’t just put a character in your script ONLY to provide an expository function. He needs to be his own character. He needs to justify his own existence. He needs to have a storyline of his own.
That’s another area where I felt the script could’ve improved. There’s this early moment where Hank and Ben are driving and Hank’s talking to Izzy on the phone and Izzy’s acting confused about why Ben is there and I thought, “Hmm, wait, is Ben bad?” And then I thought, “How cool would it be if Ben is the wrong guy and he’s taking him in some completely opposite direction?” It felt like a situation was brewing where Hank couldn’t trust anyone and every 15 pages of the story was going to have a surprise reveal. But after that initial, “Bad guys are after us” moment, the script didn’t have any huge twists, which was a missed opportunity.
In the continued spirit of assessing dialogue this month, we get an example of Tip 137 from my dialogue book, which is, “Have one person who wants to talk and another who doesn’t.” That resistance creates conflict within the conversation and conflict is one of the major keys to writing good dialogue.
By the way, one last point here about this script because it relates to problems I’m seeing in a lot of the scripts I’ve been consulting on lately: If you have a character like Hank, who’s grumpy and tough and negative – traits that commonly lead to an unlikable character – do what these guys did at the start of their script.
They send Hank out a montage of his daily activities – which amounts to the errands he does daily in his job. One of them includes taking an exotic bird from one person to another. So you have this huge Jack Reacher thug walking around with a cage that has a rare bird inside. The ridiculousness of that image (and that job) makes him easy to cozy up to. We kinda like this guy now because of all the silliness he has to deal with every day.
It’s taking a page out of Rocky’s book when he has to go collect money from that guy and he ends up being nice to him. These are small things in screenwriting but they have a big impact. Character likability is REALLY IMPORTANT, especially when you’re dealing with an inherently cold or mean protagonist. So you have to figure out little ways for us to connect with them.
Overall, I thought this script was good, not great. But it will definitely finish Top 15 on my 2023 Black List re-rankings.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[x] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Backboard characters (characters whose only purpose is to give the main character someone to talk out loud to – like hitting a ball against a backboard), are inherently thin. When producers complain about one-dimensional characters, this is one of the varieties they’re talking about. Never create characters JUST for expositional purposes or just to give your hero someone to talk out loud to. Once you create a character (in this case, “Ben”), regardless of their function in the script, you must give them a purpose for being in the story and some sort of arc over the course of the script if you can.
Have you been struggling with your dialogue? I have over (that’s right, OVER) 250 dialogue tips in my new book, “The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written.” You can head over to Amazon and buy the book, right now!
I’m going to try and get a review up today but I’m short on time. I HAVE read the script. It’s called Runner and it was pretty darned good. In the meantime, though, I want you to get your entry in for April Logline Showdown (“Tagline” Edition).
I need your title, genre, logline, and also your *movie tagline*. Some notable movie taglines from the past…
“Just because you’re invited, doesn’t mean you’re welcome.” -Get Out
“Don’t believe the fairy tale.” – Maleficent
“His story will touch you, even though he can’t.” -Edward Scissorhands
“One dream. Four Jamaicans. Twenty below zero.” -Cool Runnings
What: Tagline Showdown
I need your: Title, Genre, Logline, and Movie Tagline
Competition Date: Friday, April 26th
Deadline: Thursday, April 25th, 10pm Pacific Time
Where: Send your submissions to carsonreeves3@gmail.com
Who says Civil War gets to be the only film about a modern day civil war?
Genre: Black Comedy
Premise: A recently heartbroken resident of LA hipster neighborhood, Los Feliz, is called into battle when the civil war that has been ravaging America finally reaches his doorstep.
About: Today’s writer, Sam Zvibelman, is best known for creating the highly niche yet beloved “Pen15.” I’d heard about the show, which follows two 7th graders trying to make it through those tough years of junior high. But I couldn’t for the life of me get past the bizarre decision to have full-grown adults play the 7th graders. I know that people who love this show claim that’s why it’s great but some creative choices are too weird for me and this was one of them. I’m open to people convincing me otherwise in the comments, though. So if you loved Pen15, give it your best shot!
Writer: Sam Zvibelman
Details: 96 pages
Pat-attack for Neil?
Welcome to Civil War meets 1917 meets Edge of Tomorrow meets Juno.
Today’s script asks a question that I don’t think has ever been asked in movies before. A question so deep, so poignant, that the answer could rip apart the very fabric of space and time.
What would a hipster war look like?
There are a handful of ways to write a good script. But one of the best ways is to find a new spin on something old. War has been around forever. But nobody’s seen a war come to Los Feliz.
Los Feliz, by the way, is a giant hipster paradise in LA. You need 3 of the 5 to be able to enter the area: ripped jeans, tattoos, a handmade bag, those earrings that stretch your earlobes to quadruple their size, and a cynicism so deep that you can only pet puppy dogs ironically.
Los Feliz is in this weird section of the city, about 20 minutes east of West Hollywood, that feels like a dozen giants mashed up 50 blocks of space into 20. Half of it is crammed into the hills, and the streets up there are so twisty turny that nobody knew how to make it out of them until GPS arrived.
30-something Neil Mudd hasn’t gotten off his couch in weeks. This EVEN THOUGH a civil war began in the country three months ago. The thing is, the war was mainly relegated to the east coast and midwest. Up until this point, California’s been able to stay out of the fray.
That all changes when a plane crashes into a bunch of houses just down the street from Neil. The war is finally here. By the way, the whole reason Neil’s been moping around is that his ex-girlfriend, Emma, doesn’t want him back. Oh, and Emma just so happens to be the leader of the Resistance, aka the “Union.” So everywhere Neil goes, Emma’s face is all over the place.
Neil writes for a local Los Feliz paper but ever since the Emma breakup, he’s got writer’s block. His boss, Jacob, keeps begging him to come back and write. “People need to hear your voice right now!” “I’ve got writer’s block,” Neil proclaims. “During a war??”
As the war around Los Feliz heats up, Sean Penn and Jane Fonda, both major figures in the Union, come to Neil and ask him to head across enemy lines to deliver a critical message to the Union leader (aka, his ex-girlfriend). Neil resists at first, but when an abandoned horse named Guernica starts randomly hanging outside his place, he decides to join forces with the horsie and deliver that message!
Neil and Guernica unexpectedly become best friends as they endure their adventure across war-torn Los Feliz. Neil runs into a midget who fights for the other side (the Founders) and becomes temporary frenimies with him. He runs into his ex, who claims to know nothing about the mission he’s been sent on. And he also runs into his best friend from childhood, who’s become this script’s version of Civil War’s Jesse Plemons. As his journey winds down, Neil will have to figure out his most important battle – breaking free of his writer’s block. That way, he can write the words that just may save the Union, at least in Los Feliz.
Love and War and Guernica is kind of like Civil War in that it doesn’t really take a political side. It definitely demeans the evil conservative empire but it also makes fun of the fact that if war ever came to California, it would be up to a bunch of “liberal snowflakes” to defend the state and maybe that isn’t encouraging. In the end, I liked that it kept it all funny and light. It never gets mean-spirited. And that’s due to the writer’s voice, which is strong throughout.
This script reminded me of the value of adding HUMANITY to a screenplay. I’ve been reading so many paint-by-numbers thin-charactered scripts lately and you know EXACTLY where they’re going to go within the first ten pages. You see the entire movie in your head and don’t even need to read on.
But this script was different. There’s soul here. The writer is leaving his heart on the page. That’s worth something. And, as far as the plot goes, Neil achieves his goal (delivering the message to Emma) by page 65. So I had no idea where the script was going next. In fact, I didn’t know where it was going before that.
Sam Zvibleman keeps us entertained with a steady diet of offbeat humor. There’s this funny ongoing joke about how unsympathetic everyone is to Neil’s writer’s block. “How can you have writer’s block during a war?!” Neil is so devoid of any warring skills that he has to search YouTube for how to ride a horse. You’ve got Sean Penn showing up in the movie. On the one hand, I dislike celebrity cameos, but I think Sam is dead-on accurate with this one. Sean Penn would definitely be the face of the Union should a civil war come to Los Angeles.
In fairness, the script is messy. But it’s messy in the good way. Not the bad way. What do I mean by that? Most messiness comes from sloppiness and laziness when putting a plot together. The messiness here comes more from a lot of ideas. Our hero is trying to get over his ex. His ex is the leader of the resistance. We’ve got the writer’s block thing. There’s this “Paul Revere” theme running throughout the movie. There’s this relationship with this horse. We’re not sure if Sean Penn and Jane Fonda are real.
The reason it still works though is because each individual idea is fun. And Sam writes with this charming energy where you forgive all of the bumps and bruises. Also, the way he connects certain threads are quite clever. For example, our hero isn’t just delivering an important message a la 1917. He has to deliver it to HIS EX-GIRLFRIEND who he still pines for. That gives the objective extra stakes. Extra emotion.
Not to keep ripping on Rebel Moon Part 2 but when I said it was thin and that it reeked of a first draft, that’s what I meant by it. Zack Synder could never, in a million years, connect two plot threads like that in a clever way because he can’t be bothered. It’s not interesting to him to go deeper, to find those more exciting story avenues.
Continuing my month-long crusade of highlighting script dialogue (I encourage you to buy my new book on dialogue, the best dialogue book available in the world!), today’s script has a wonderful example of tips number 132 and 133, which cover dialogue “agitators.” Agitators are anything you place in a scene that complicate the conversation your characters are having. I talk about how a strategically chosen location can be a great agitator, which is exactly what Sam does here.
Our hero, Neil, finally gets to his ex-girlfriend, Emma. Note how this scene could’ve happened anywhere. They could’ve put it outside at a coffee shop, inside a bedroom, in the back of a car. But no. We use AN AGITATOR to give the scene more life. In this case, that agitator is A WAR GOING ON IN THE BACKGROUND.
Sam even took my tip to the next level. The agitator creates a layer of irony over the scene. Their talk is thick with subtext and “elephant-in-the-room” conflict (Tip #134!). That heaviness plays humorously as those heavy pauses are accompanied by people dramatically dying in the background.
This scene is a great representation of this writer and of his script. It’s more thoughtful than the average script on the Black List for sure and should’ve finished way higher than it did. In my annual end-of-the-year Black List re-ranking post, I predict this will finish in the top 10.
The only reason it doesn’t score that elusive “impressive” that I rarely award these days is that there were a few threads in the story that annoyed me. There’s way too much emphasis placed on Neil’s friends’ religious book. I had no idea why someone else’s book mattered in a script that had much more pressing goals to accomplish (winning a war, getting back your ex-girlfriend). Yet this book (that wasn’t even Neil’s!!) gets the third biggest storyline in the film. Come on.
To get that ‘impressive,’ I would’ve needed a simpler more streamlined narrative where we focus on the things that matter and nothing more. But it’s still way above most of these other scripts on the Black List. I tried to read that fruit one (where every woman’s name is a fruit) and it was borderline unintelligible. Yet somehow it got 13 more votes than this? Time for the Black List to rework its rating system or it will continue to be up to me to fix it at the end of every year. :)
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Know when to hold’em, know when to fold’em (subplots). Subplots are necessary in every script. But one of the worst things you can do is put too many in your script. Because what happens is every subplot TAKES TIME AWAY from the bigger plotlines. So when the reader is stuck reading some second-rate subplot that doesn’t have a huge effect on the story, they get restless. Or even angry. So choose those subplots carefully. Only include them if they’re REALLY DOING SOMETHING for your script. We could’ve gotten rid of Jacob’s religious book here and this script loses nothing. It actually gains something since we’d no longer have to endure it.
Have you been struggling with your dialogue? I have over (that’s right, OVER) 250 dialogue tips in my new book, “The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written.” You can head over to Amazon and buy the book, right now!
Civil War has to have one of the strangest reactions to movies I’ve seen in a long time. Every day that goes by, its RT review score drops another percentage point. And yet, with this weekend’s box office win, it has become A24 and Alex Garland’s best first-2-weekends release ever.
The film (11 mil this weekend) is fighting a war on two fronts. One, it’s promoting itself as something bigger than it is. So everyone who sees it can’t help but be let down. And two, the elite progressive crowd, which is independent film’s primary audience, is mad that it doesn’t take more shots at conservatives. The Hollywood Reporter was so angry about this, they needed to get it off their chest.
Either way, I think it’s cool that an indie film is causing such a stir. I was just lamenting the fact that we don’t have enough conversational pieces in cinema these days. You had Barbie last year. But that was an outlier. Before that, it had been a while.
Abigail’s lower-than-expected box office (10 mil) continues to prove how elusive the target is in the horror movie space. Horror seems easy from the outside (and to be fair, I believe it’s the genre most forgiving of bad writing) but finding that concept that excites people enough to drive them to the theater is, as always, elusive. Audiences will keep you humble. There are no slam dunks except for sequels, as Steven Spielberg famously said.
The trailers for Abigail were less scary and more campy. I always get nervous when writers mix comedy with horror. Being scared is something everybody agrees on. If something is scary, we’re all on board. But comedy? Whatever half of the audience finds funny, the other half is guaranteed to find stupid. So you’re lowering the chances that your script/movie will connect.
This is why movies like Renfeld and Lisa Frankenstein land with a thud. I think when people go to a horror film, they want horror. It’s not like comic book movies, which organically have a lane for comedy. This genre mash-up had its heyday back in the 80s, with franchises like Leprechaun and Child’s Play, and I think that’s because it was a campier time. Audiences are less forgiving of campiness these days, probably due to the 50x cynicism power-up that the internet has injected into our souls.
But that cynicism has been delightful for the movies that deserve it. And there is no movie released in the last decade that deserves a bigger cynical take than Rebel Moon Part 2. I mean, this movie, guys… I put this movie on and just stared, frozen in place, with my jaw on the floor. I would’ve turned it off if I hadn’t been so confused about how a movie this bad could’ve been made.
There is not a better image to represent this movie. Everybody is perfectly framed. They all have cool expressions on their faces. They’re shooting in slow motion. Hair, makeup, and wardrobe have all been adjusted to the millimeter. And yet we don’t care one bit what’s happening because the story that led up to this moment failed to create even an iota of compelling drama.
First of all, can we all just take a deep breath and THANK THE LORD that Snyder wasn’t able to convince Kathleen Kennedy to make this a Star Wars movie? Holy Jesus, thank you thank you thank you. Star Wars may be in a rough spot now. But this would’ve been like sticking 50 wooden stakes into the franchise’s vampiric chest.
While the film has its baffling share of bad directing choices (namely that 89% of the movie is presented in slow motion for reasons the most brilliant scientists in the world would never be able to figure out), it’s the screenwriting that does the film in. If you don’t have a story to build your directing around, it won’t matter what you do. And this script makes mistake after mistake after mistake.
Right off the bat, there is zero originality within any of the science fiction choices. I see this all the time in weak sci-fi scripts. The choices appear out of thin air. There is no thought behind them. No history. No mythology. No specificity. They amount to the writer thinking, “This would look cool on screen” and that’s it. That’s the only basis behind the choice.
There is this robot in the movie with animal horns on its head. Why? No clear reason! Just… “animal horns on a robot would look cool,” which may be the singular sentence that defines Zack Snyder. What makes science fiction awesome IS the world-building. We need to sense that there’s a deep rich history in this made-up universe for it to resonate, for it to feel real. And if you’re just basing all your choices on, “Oh, that would look cool,” it will come across as paper-thin to audiences.
If you look at characters like C-3PO and R2-D2, not only do these robots serve functional needs in this universe (one is a protocol droid capable of communicating with the vast number of alien languages throughout the galaxy and the other is an astromech pilot droid) but they have rich detailed history, having been through numerous wars before we meet them (namely the Clone Wars), all of which George Lucas knew in the very first draft of the script.
A classic screenwriting error is to believe that your character only exists the second they’re introduced in your movie. While I’m sure that Zack Snyder would argue that he knows all sorts of backstory about his hero (somebody named “Kora”), I can assure him that however much backstory work he’s done, it is a fraction of what needed to be done. This main girl who lives on some farm and hoes wheat or whatever she does… 98% of what Snyder knows about the girl is in how he envisioned her looking. She had a cool angular face that would look killer in all of the slow-motion action scenes he planned on filming.
Or there are moments like when Snyder has his version of Han Solo encased in some webbing version of carbonite with multiple tubes running red and blue fluid into his body. I would be willing to bet my life that Snyder has no idea what those tubes are or what the liquid within them does. I know this because there is zero logical or visual consistency between what the character is encased in (webbing) and what those tubes are doing. Again, it comes down to Snyder thinking, “Red and blue tubes! That would look cool!!” That’s it! That is the only criteria for a creative choice in Rebel Moon. The irony is that if you argue that “knowing what looks cool” is Snyder’s lone talent, he fails at it more than he succeeds!
So how did this happen? How did two movies that are this terrible – movies that cost an enormous amount of money – get made in the first place? The answer is simple: Netflix doesn’t develop. Or, if they do, the notes they give aren’t mandatory. They are suggestions. And when they hire these big names (They brought Snyder into their fold when he was at his professional peak, after the Snyderverse), they give them total power. Anything they want to do, they let them do.
Ideas are like people. If you don’t challenge them, they can’t grow. They can’t become bigger and better versions of themselves. It is beyond clear to me that not a single creative decision in this entire screenplay was challenged. I’d even go further. I would bet that nobody at Netflix even read the script. How could they? Nobody who can call themselves a creative read this script and thought it was anything other than abysmal and needed mountains of rewrites.
It is the curse of being successful. People start trusting you too much. And you believe they’re right. Recently, Ridley Scott expressed frustration about the fact that, even at this stage of his career, with all of the success he’s had, people still constantly challenge him during the filmmaking process. At first, I thought that sucked. “He’s earned the right to do what he wants!” I screamed at my computer.
But after watching Rebel Moon Part 2, I’m reminded how important it is that every creative choice be challenged. Being forced to defend why you made the choices you did allows you to see just how strong they are. Because it’s usually during a defense when you realize that a choice has no legs. “No, cause see, the reason for that is that he has that power… well, he doesn’t have it yet but… oh, I forgot, cause when he was young? He once had a vision — I had that in an earlier draft, I need to put it back in — so then, see, when you know that, you realize that he has this special power… which I know is actually two powers, flying and super-strength, but I explain the flying later on, and that’s why it makes sense that he can do these things.” You can feel yourself stumbling over your defense as you explain it and that’s when you go, “You’re right. I need to fix this.” Again, if there’s no struggle, how can the best choices rise to the top?
I do understand Snyder on some level. For directors, they want to get behind the camera. Cause that’s where the movie’s made. It’s annoying sitting in a room and trouble-shooting script problems then waiting weeks or months for the writer to fix everything. But when you don’t do that, this is the movie you get. This is a first draft movie. It is a piece of garbage with no dramatic thrust, with no true reason to keep watching. And now you’re the butt of a joke. You’re Battlefield Earth. When you could’ve avoided that by doing the hard work and actually getting the script taken care of. It drives me nuts! But this is a problem I’ve learned that many in Hollywood will always make.
Also, you’ve got ONE WEEK left to enter The Tagline Showdown! Details Below.
The Greatest Dialogue Book Ever Written is a quick read and will revolutionize your dialogue. If you’ve EVER received notes on your screenplay like, “Your dialogue is too on-the-nose,” “There’s way too much exposition in this script,” or “Your dialogue is too bland,” then you need to buy this book right now. Honestly, just ten of the tips in this book are going to put you ahead of 75% of other screenwriters. To think you get 240 more AFTER that? I mean, come on, it’s the deal of the century. So head over to Amazon and grab it!
Also, don’t forget that we have Logline Showdown coming up at the end of next week. So get your entries in. I need your title, genre, logline, and also your *movie tagline*. Some notable movie taglines from the past…
“Live. Die. Repeat.” -Edge of Tomorrow
“If you see only one movie this summer . . . see Star Wars! But if you see two movies this summer, see Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me”
“If at first you don’t succeed, lower your standards.” -Tommy Boy
“The True Story of a Real Fake” -Catch Me If You Can
What: Tagline Showdown
I need your: Title, Genre, Logline, and Movie Tagline
Competition Date: Friday, April 26th
Deadline: Thursday, April 25th, 10pm Pacific Time
Where: Send your submissions to carsonreeves3@gmail.com
