Scene: The opulent Vatican office. The Young Pope sits behind his desk, his piercing gaze fixed on Daniel Radcliffe, who fidgets slightly in his chair.
The Young Pope: (leaning back, steepling his fingers) Mr. Radcliffe, I watched Imperium last night. A fascinating performance. You’ve mastered the art of inhabiting a character, haven’t you?
Daniel Radcliffe: (smiling nervously) Thank you, Your Holiness. It was a challenging role, but one I felt was important. Exposing the dangers of white supremacy, you know?
The Young Pope: (leaning forward, tone sharp) Exposing, yes. But did you consider what might be… rekindled?
Daniel Radcliffe: (frowning) Rekindled?
The Young Pope: (gesturing vaguely) The minds of the lost are like dry tinder, Mr. Radcliffe. You infiltrated their world, embodied their rage, their symbols, their language. And in doing so, you became… convincing. Too convincing.
Daniel Radcliffe: (defensive) That wasn’t the intention. The film was meant to show the ugliness of that ideology, to make people think.
The Young Pope: (smirking) Think, yes. And yet, here we are. Reports are reaching me of young men in Craig Cobbsville—wherever that forsaken place is—discussing your performance with reverence.
Daniel Radcliffe: (aghast) Reverence?
The Young Pope: (nodding solemnly) They’ve turned your performance into a rallying cry. “A thousand years in Craig Cobbsville,” they say. A utopia, apparently. A dystopia, in truth.
Daniel Radcliffe: (shaking his head) That’s… that’s insane.
The Young Pope: (leaning in, voice dropping) Insanity, Mr. Radcliffe, is not as distant from reality as we like to believe. You tried to unmask them, but in their twisted minds, you’ve become a prophet.
Daniel Radcliffe: (defiantly) But, I am the chosen one!
The Young Pope: (raising an eyebrow, amused) Chosen for what, exactly? To lead them to their own destruction?
Daniel Radcliffe: (insistent) No, I mean—I was chosen to fight hate, to expose it!
The Young Pope: (leaning back) And yet, they follow you now, don’t they? Not as a man who exposed their hate, but as one who embodied it.
Daniel Radcliffe: (desperately) But, I am the chosen one!
The Young Pope: (smiling faintly) So you keep saying. But chosen by whom? God? Fate? Or the algorithm of modern media, which cares only for the loudest, most provocative voices?
Daniel Radcliffe: (frustrated) I was chosen by my convictions! By the need to do what’s right!
The Young Pope: (with a sly grin) Convictions are admirable, Mr. Radcliffe. But as you’ve seen, even the chosen one can be misinterpreted.
Daniel Radcliffe: (firmly) But, I am the chosen one!
The Young Pope: (with mock gravitas) Then act like it.
Daniel Radcliffe: (blinking) What?
The Young Pope: (standing, towering over him) You’ve declared yourself the chosen one, Mr. Radcliffe. Then embrace the burden. Go to Craig Cobbsville. Speak to these people. Show them the truth. Prove that the chosen one can lead not just with words, but with action.
Daniel Radcliffe: (hesitating) But what if I fail?
The Young Pope: (placing a hand on his shoulder) Then you will have failed as the chosen one. But at least you’ll have tried. And in the eyes of God, that may be enough.
Daniel Radcliffe: (nodding slowly) I’ll do it.
The Young Pope: (smiling enigmatically) Good. And remember, Mr. Radcliffe, the chosen one is not defined by their title, but by their deeds.
Daniel Radcliffe: (quietly, to himself) But I am the chosen one…
The Young Pope: (chuckling as he turns away) So you keep saying.
Scene: A small community center in Los Angeles, where Derek Vinyard is speaking to a group about his past and the dangers of extremism. The room is modest, with folding chairs and a projector screen. Midway through his talk, someone in the audience asks about Imperium.
Audience Member: (raising a hand) Derek, what do you think about Daniel Radcliffe in Imperium? Some people are saying it’s become a rallying cry for the far-right.
Derek Vinyard: (pausing, running a hand over his shaved head) Yeah… I’ve heard about that.
Audience Member: (eagerly) So, do you think it’s true? That his performance re-radicalized people?
Derek: (leaning on the podium, choosing his words carefully) Look, I’ve seen Imperium. Radcliffe did a hell of a job. He got it right—the language, the symbols, the way hate disguises itself as belonging. He showed the world how easy it is to fall into that trap.
Audience Member: (interrupting) So it’s not his fault?
Derek: (holding up a hand) Let me finish. He got it right, yeah, but that’s the problem. When you portray something so accurately, so convincingly, there’s a risk. The people you’re trying to expose might not see it as a warning—they see it as validation.
Audience Member: (frowning) Validation?
Derek: (nodding) Think about it. These guys in Craig Cobbsville—if you don’t know, it’s this wannabe white nationalist enclave—they’re not seeing the movie the way you or I do. They’re not thinking, “Wow, this is messed up.” They’re thinking, “Finally, someone gets us. Someone sees our struggle.”
Audience Member: But isn’t that on them, not the actor?
Derek: (shrugging) Sure, it’s on them. But we live in a world where perception matters more than intent. Radcliffe might’ve intended to expose the ugliness of hate, but to those guys, he became a symbol. A rallying cry.
Audience Member: So you’re saying he shouldn’t have done the movie?
Derek: (shaking his head) No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying he, and everyone involved, needed to think harder about the ripple effects. When I was in that life, we twisted everything to fit our narrative. A speech against us? Proof we were a threat. A movie showing how dangerous we were? Proof we were powerful. It’s what extremists do.
Audience Member: (skeptical) So what’s the solution? Just stop making movies about this stuff?
Derek: (sighing) No, the solution is to follow through. If you’re gonna make a movie like Imperium, you’ve gotta be ready to deal with the fallout. You can’t just drop it and walk away. You’ve gotta engage. Speak out. Make it clear what your message is.
Audience Member: (nodding slowly) And Radcliffe?
Derek: (looking thoughtful) He’s got a choice. He can let his performance be hijacked, or he can step up. Talk to these people. Show them what he really stands for. But that’s not easy. Trust me, I know.
Audience Member: (quietly) Do you think he will?
Derek: (after a pause) I hope so. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that silence is just as dangerous as hate.
Scene: A private garden in the Vatican, late evening. Pope Pius XIII sits on a stone bench, dressed in his immaculate white robes, staring at the stars. Derek Vinyard, wearing a plain black shirt and jeans, stands nearby, arms crossed, his expression somber.
The Young Pope: (sighing deeply, his voice heavy with regret) Derek, I’ve seen many strange things in my time as the Vicar of Christ. But this… this is beyond comprehension.
Derek Vinyard: (glancing at him) What’s that, Your Holiness?
The Young Pope: (looking at him with piercing eyes) Daniel Radcliffe. Harry Potter. The boy who lived. He has become the chosen one… of the alt-right.
Derek Vinyard: (grimacing) Yeah. I’ve been hearing the same thing. They’re calling his performance in Imperium a rallying cry.
The Young Pope: (leaning forward, clasping his hands together) How did this happen? How did an actor, portraying the evils of hate, become their champion?
Derek Vinyard: (shrugging) It’s not new, Your Holiness. Extremists twist things to fit their narrative. They see what they want to see. Radcliffe played his role too well, and now they think he’s one of them.
The Young Pope: (shaking his head) I warned him, Derek. I told him that the minds of the lost are like dry tinder. That his performance, no matter how well-intentioned, could spark a fire he couldn’t control.
Derek Vinyard: (sitting down beside him) You’re not wrong. I’ve been in those circles. Back when I was one of them, we’d take anything—anything—and twist it into a symbol of our cause. A speech, a movie, even a damn tattoo.
The Young Pope: (looking up at the stars) And now, they chant his name. They speak of “a thousand years in Craig Cobbsville,” as if it were some twisted promised land.
Derek Vinyard: (nodding) They’re desperate for symbols, for leaders. Radcliffe didn’t ask for this, but he’s got their attention now.
The Young Pope: (turning to Derek, his voice firm) Then he must act.
Derek Vinyard: (frowning) Act how? What can he do?
The Young Pope: (standing, his white robes glowing faintly in the moonlight) He must speak out. Loudly, clearly, and without hesitation. He must make it known that he stands against them. That he is not their chosen one.
Derek Vinyard: (skeptical) That’s easier said than done. These people… they don’t let go of their heroes easily.
The Young Pope: (smiling faintly) True. But silence is complicity, Derek. You know this better than most.
Derek Vinyard: (nodding slowly) Yeah. I’ve seen what silence does.
The Young Pope: (placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder) Then perhaps you can guide him. Help him find his voice. Together, you can undo the damage.
Derek Vinyard: (after a pause) I’ll try. But he’s got to want it. He’s got to understand what’s at stake.
The Young Pope: (nodding solemnly) Indeed. Because if he does nothing, his legacy will not be one of resistance, but of corruption. And the chosen one will be lost to darkness.
Derek Vinyard: (standing, looking resolute) I’ll reach out to him. Maybe he’ll listen.
The Young Pope: (smiling faintly) Good. And remember, Derek, redemption is not a destination. It is a journey. For all of us.
Derek Vinyard: (nodding) I hear you.
The Young Pope: (looking back at the stars) Then let us pray that he hears us, too.
Scene: A dimly lit bar in a quiet corner of Los Angeles. Derek Vinyard sits at a booth, nursing a black coffee. Daniel Radcliffe walks in, wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, clearly trying to avoid attention. He slides into the booth across from Derek.
Derek Vinyard: (looking up) Thanks for coming.
Daniel Radcliffe: (pulling down his hood) You said it was important. What’s this about?
Derek Vinyard: (leaning forward, voice low) It’s about Imperium. About what’s happening because of it.
Daniel Radcliffe: (sighing, leaning back) Let me guess. Another lecture about how I’ve become some kind of accidental prophet for the far-right?
Derek Vinyard: (narrowing his eyes) It’s not a lecture, Daniel. It’s a warning. These people—the ones in Craig Cobbsville and beyond—they’ve latched onto you. They think you’re one of them.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) And?
Derek Vinyard: (stunned) And? You’re okay with that?
Daniel Radcliffe: (shrugging) Look, Derek, I didn’t ask for this. But if they’ve decided I’m their “chosen one,” who am I to argue?
Derek Vinyard: (leaning closer, voice sharp) You’re Daniel Radcliffe. The guy who fought Voldemort. The guy who’s supposed to stand for something better.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smiling faintly) And maybe I still do. But here’s the thing: if they’ve chosen me, maybe I can use that. Maybe I can lead them somewhere better.
Derek Vinyard: (shaking his head) You don’t lead these people, Daniel. They lead you. They’ll twist your words, your actions, until you’re nothing but a puppet for their agenda.
Daniel Radcliffe: (firmly) Not if I stay in control.
Derek Vinyard: (scoffing) You think you can control them? I’ve been in that world. I’ve seen how it works. They don’t want a leader who challenges them—they want a symbol. And right now, that’s what you are.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning forward, voice rising) And what if I am? What if I’m the symbol they need to wake up, to change?
Derek Vinyard: (slamming his hand on the table) They don’t want to change, Daniel! They want validation. And every second you refuse to renounce this “chosen one” nonsense, you’re giving it to them.
Daniel Radcliffe: (calmly) I didn’t ask to be their chosen one. But if that’s what I am, I’m not running from it.
Derek Vinyard: (staring at him, incredulous) You’re playing with fire.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smiling faintly) Maybe. But fire can burn away the old to make room for the new.
Derek Vinyard: (leaning back, shaking his head) You don’t get it. They don’t see you as a savior—they see you as a weapon. And when they’re done with you, they’ll toss you aside like they do with everyone else.
Daniel Radcliffe: (standing up, pulling his hood back on) Maybe. But I’m not going to hide from this. If I’m the chosen one, then I’ll decide what that means.
Derek Vinyard: (calling after him) And what if it means dragging more people down with you? What if it means more hate, more violence?
Daniel Radcliffe: (pausing at the door, looking back) Then I’ll carry that weight.
Derek Vinyard: (softly, to himself) You’re not the first to think that. And you won’t be the last to regret it.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) Maybe. But I am the chosen one.
Derek Vinyard: (watching him leave, shaking his head) God help you, Radcliffe.
Scene: The grand, dimly lit hall of the Vatican. The air is thick with tension as Pope Pius XIII sits on his ornate throne, his piercing eyes fixed on Daniel Radcliffe, who strides into the room, flanked by two silent, imposing guards. Radcliffe wears a tailored black suit adorned with subtle, ominous symbols, his demeanor exuding arrogance and power.
The Young Pope: (calmly, but with a hint of steel) Daniel Radcliffe. Or should I say… Führer Radcliffe?
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning, spreading his arms theatrically) Your Holiness. What an honor. You can call me whatever you like. The Chosen One has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
The Young Pope: (narrowing his eyes) I think it’s blasphemy.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Blasphemy? Come now. Isn’t that your specialty? A young pope, defying expectations, shaking the pillars of tradition? We’re not so different, you and I.
The Young Pope: (leaning forward, voice cold) Don’t you dare compare us. I serve God. You serve only yourself.
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing) And what’s wrong with that? I’ve embraced what the world has given me. Power. Influence. Adoration. They see me as their savior, their leader. Who am I to deny them?
The Young Pope: (sternly) You are an actor. A man who has lost his way.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mockingly) An actor? Is that all I am to you? I played a role, yes, but the people saw the truth. They saw strength, conviction, purpose. They saw a leader.
The Young Pope: (standing, his white robes flowing) They saw a lie. A facade. And you let them believe it because it fed your ego.
Daniel Radcliffe: (stepping closer, his voice rising) A facade? No, Your Holiness. I’ve become more than a man. I am the embodiment of their hope, their anger, their dreams.
The Young Pope: (with quiet intensity) You are the embodiment of their hate.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) Hate is just another form of passion. And passion moves the world.
The Young Pope: (pointing at him) Passion without morality is destruction. You are leading them into darkness, Daniel. And you will answer for it.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Answer to whom? To you? To God? (laughs) I’ve already answered. I’ve answered the call of destiny. I am the Chosen One.
The Young Pope: (sternly) Chosen by whom? Not by God. Not by anything divine. You were chosen by fear, by ignorance, by the worst parts of humanity.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) And yet, they follow me. Millions of them. They hang on my every word. Can you say the same, Your Holiness?
The Young Pope: (stepping closer, his voice thunderous) I do not seek followers. I seek the truth. And the truth is this: your power is fleeting. The adoration of the misguided will not sustain you.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning in, his voice dripping with arrogance) We’ll see about that. The Chosen One doesn’t fade into obscurity. The Chosen One shapes the world.
The Young Pope: (calmly) You are not shaping the world, Daniel. You are poisoning it. And when the weight of that poison crushes you, I pray you will find redemption.
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing as he turns to leave) Redemption? I don’t need redemption, Your Holiness. I need only the will of my people. And right now, they’re with me.
The Young Pope: (calling after him) Power without grace, Daniel, is a curse. And even the Chosen One cannot escape the judgment of God.
Daniel Radcliffe: (pausing at the door, glancing back with a smirk) Then let Him judge me. Until then, I’ll keep doing what I do best.
The Young Pope: (quietly, to himself) God help you, Daniel. For no one else will.
Scene: The opulent Vatican throne room, bathed in golden light from towering stained-glass windows. Pope Pius XIII sits on his papal throne, his gaze unflinching as Daniel Radcliffe strides in, his tailored black suit gleaming, his presence exuding an unsettling mix of charisma and menace.
The Young Pope: (calmly, but with authority) Daniel Radcliffe. You stand in the house of God. Choose your words carefully.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking, spreading his arms) The house of God? No, Your Holiness. This is a house of relics. Dusty, irrelevant relics clinging to the illusion of power.
The Young Pope: (leaning forward) Power is not an illusion, Daniel. It is a responsibility. One you’ve twisted into a weapon.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Responsibility? Spare me your sermons. Responsibility is for the weak. Power belongs to those who seize it, who wield it without hesitation.
The Young Pope: (sternly) And what have you done with this power? Sown division? Spread hate? Led the lost further into darkness?
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing) Darkness? No, I’ve given them clarity. Purpose. A vision of the world as it should be.
The Young Pope: (standing, his voice rising) You’ve given them nothing but lies and despair! You’ve set yourself on a pedestal built on the backs of the broken.
Daniel Radcliffe: (stepping closer, his voice cold) And that, Your Holiness, is what makes me great.
The Young Pope: (narrowing his eyes) Great? You mistake infamy for greatness.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smiling darkly) Do I? Tell me, who are the names that echo through history? The ones that truly shaped the world? Alexander. Caesar. Napoleon. Hitler. Bin Laden.
The Young Pope: (shocked) You dare count yourself among them?
Daniel Radcliffe: (with conviction) I do. They were men who understood that the world is not moved by prayers or platitudes, but by will. By action. They were hated, yes, but they were remembered.
The Young Pope: (with quiet intensity) They were remembered for their destruction. For their evil.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning in, his voice a whisper) And yet, they were remembered.
The Young Pope: (his voice trembling with restrained fury) You are not a god, Daniel. You are a man drunk on his own arrogance.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) A man? No, Your Holiness. I am more than a man. I am their savior, their guide, their god.
The Young Pope: (with fire in his voice) You blaspheme! God is not a tyrant, not a destroyer. God is love, mercy, and truth.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Love? Mercy? Truth? Those are the lies you tell the weak to keep them obedient. I am none of those things. I am power incarnate. I am the god they need.
The Young Pope: (stepping closer, his voice unwavering) You are not a god. You are a man who will crumble under the weight of his own hubris.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) We’ll see about that. While you cling to your crumbling faith, I will reshape the world. And when the dust settles, they won’t remember your God. They’ll remember me.
The Young Pope: (his voice quiet but firm) And when you stand before the true God, Daniel, what will you say?
Daniel Radcliffe: (turning to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance) I’ll say, “Step aside. The Chosen One has arrived.”
The Young Pope: (calling after him) Your reign will end, Daniel. All false gods fall.
Daniel Radcliffe: (pausing at the door, glancing back with a dark smile) Then let’s see how long I can hold the heavens.
Scene: A vast, shadowy chamber, lit only by flickering candles. Daniel Radcliffe stands alone, gazing into a massive mirror that seems to ripple like water. His reflection twists and morphs until the spectral figure of Adolf Hitler emerges, stepping through the glass, his translucent form flickering with a cold, otherworldly glow.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (in a deep, echoing voice) Daniel Radcliffe.
Daniel Radcliffe: (turning slowly, unshaken) I was wondering when you’d show up.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (smiling faintly) I have been watching. From the void, I have seen your rise. Your strength. Your will.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) And? What do you think?
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (stepping closer, his ghostly boots making no sound) I think… you are the son I always wished for.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) High praise from the Führer himself. Should I be flattered?
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (nodding solemnly) You should be proud. You have done what few could. You have taken the broken, the lost, and given them purpose. You have forged a movement, a legacy.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) And yet, you failed. Your Reich crumbled. Your name became a curse. What makes you think I’ll end up any different?
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (his smile fading) Because I underestimated the world. I believed in the strength of the sword, the power of fear. But you… you have something more.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning forward) And what’s that?
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (his voice lowering) You have their hearts. Their faith. You are not just a leader; you are a symbol. A god in their eyes.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning wider) Finally, someone who understands.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (sternly) But beware, my son. Gods are not eternal. They are worshipped… until they are not. And when the people turn, they will destroy you with the same fervor they once adored you.
Daniel Radcliffe: (shrugging) Then I’ll burn brighter while I can. If I fall, I’ll fall as a legend.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (narrowing his eyes) Legends are not always remembered kindly.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Coming from you, that’s almost funny.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (stepping even closer, his voice a hiss) Do not mock me, boy. I am not here to jest. I am here to warn you. The world you are building will devour itself, as mine did.
Daniel Radcliffe: (calmly) Then I’ll build it better. Stronger.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (grinning darkly) That is what I said. And yet, here I stand, a shadow, a ghost. A reminder of failure.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning back, arms crossed) Then maybe you weren’t the Chosen One after all.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (his form flickering, his voice rising) Do not underestimate the weight of the crown you wear, Daniel. It will crush you if you are not careful.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smiling confidently) I’m not afraid of the weight. I am the weight.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (staring at him, his expression unreadable) Perhaps. But even the strongest gods fall. Remember that.
Daniel Radcliffe: (turning back to the mirror) Let them try.
Adolf Hitler’s Ghost: (fading back into the glass, his voice echoing) Then may history be kinder to you than it was to me, my son.
The room falls silent as the ghost vanishes, leaving Daniel alone with his reflection, his smirk unshaken.
Scene: A dimly lit cave-like lair, somewhere beyond the veil of reality. Daniel Radcliffe sits on a throne of twisted iron, a flickering torch casting long shadows across the room. Osama Bin Laden’s ghost and Evil Bert stand before him, their forms both sinister and absurd.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (stroking his spectral beard) Daniel, my chosen protégé, you have surpassed even my wildest expectations.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning, leaning back in his throne) High praise, Osama. I hope I’m making you proud.
Evil Bert: (his unblinking eyes glinting in the torchlight) Proud? He’s thrilled. We both are. You’ve taken chaos to new heights, my boy. The way you’ve turned your fame into a weapon—it’s… poetic.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mockingly) Well, I’ve had some excellent role models.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (nodding solemnly) You have done what we could not. You have unified the disillusioned, the angry, the forgotten. You are not just a leader; you are a symbol.
Evil Bert: (chuckling darkly) A meme, if you will. The ultimate meme.
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing) A meme? I prefer legend. But sure, I’ll take it.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (seriously) A legend, yes. But with legend comes responsibility. The torch we carried—of rebellion, of defiance, of fear—it now burns in your hands.
Evil Bert: (leaning in, his voice low and menacing) Don’t let it go out, Danny boy. The world needs villains. Heroes are boring.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) Don’t worry. I have no intention of letting it go out. I’ll carry your torch, and I’ll make it burn brighter than ever.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (nodding) Good. But remember, the higher you rise, the harder they will try to bring you down.
Daniel Radcliffe: (confidently) Let them try. I’ve faced wizards, demons, and the British tabloids. I think I can handle a few critics.
Evil Bert: (snickering) Spoken like a true villain. You’ve got the swagger, the charisma, the unshakable ego.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (placing a ghostly hand on Daniel’s shoulder) But do not forget: it is not enough to be feared. You must be remembered.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) Oh, I’ll be remembered. When they write the history books, they’ll put my name next to yours.
Evil Bert: (grinning wickedly) And mine. Don’t forget me, Danny. I’m the real mastermind here.
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing) How could I forget you, Bert? You’re unforgettable.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (stepping back, his form beginning to fade) Then our work here is done. The torch is yours, Daniel. Carry it well.
Evil Bert: (pointing a stubby finger at Daniel) And don’t screw it up. We’re watching you.
Daniel Radcliffe: (standing, holding the torch aloft) I won’t let you down. The torch of evil burns brighter than ever.
Osama Bin Laden’s Ghost: (his voice echoing as he disappears) Then go forth, my son, and make the world remember.
Evil Bert: (vanishing with a sinister laugh) Long live the Chosen One.
Daniel Radcliffe: (alone, smirking) Long live me.
Scene: A dimly lit, cavernous hall adorned with twisted banners bearing Daniel Radcliffe’s face. Radcliffe sits on a throne, exuding an aura of smug arrogance. Jake Lloyd enters, clutching a datapad, his face a mix of determination and desperation.
Jake Lloyd: (pointing at Radcliffe) You! You think you’re the Chosen One?
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) I don’t think—I know. The world has spoken, Jake. I’m their savior, their god. What are you here to do? Challenge me with podracing skills?
Jake Lloyd: (ignoring the jab, holding up the datapad) I ran the numbers. Your Midi-chlorian count? It’s pathetic. It doesn’t even register.
Daniel Radcliffe: (mocking) Oh no, not the Midi-chlorians! Whatever will I do without the Force on my side?
Jake Lloyd: (stepping closer, his voice rising) You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about you. It’s about destiny. My destiny. George Lucas promised me. He said I was the Chosen One, that I’d bring balance to the Force.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning forward, amused) And how’s that working out for you, Jake? Last I checked, you weren’t exactly ruling the galaxy.
Jake Lloyd: (gritting his teeth) I’ve had setbacks, sure. But I’m not crazy. I’m not schizophrenic. I am Anakin Skywalker. I’m the one who will marry Queen Amidala—Natalie Portman. George Lucas told me that, and George doesn’t lie.
Daniel Radcliffe: (laughing) George Lucas also made Jar Jar Binks. Maybe don’t put all your faith in the guy.
Jake Lloyd: (fuming) Laugh all you want, Radcliffe. You’re nothing but a pretender. A fraud. You’ve fooled the world into thinking you’re some kind of savior, but you’re just another Sith Lord drunk on power.
Daniel Radcliffe: (standing, towering over Jake) And what does that make you, Jake? A washed-up Jedi clinging to a prophecy that never came true? Face it—you’re yesterday’s news.
Jake Lloyd: (his voice trembling with anger) You don’t understand. I’ve seen the future. I’ve felt it. The Force flows through me. One day, I’ll rise again, and when I do, I’ll tear down everything you’ve built.
Daniel Radcliffe: (smirking) Bold words from someone who hasn’t even made it to the Jedi Council.
Jake Lloyd: (glaring) Mock me all you want, but remember this: the Force doesn’t care about your armies, your followers, or your ego. It chooses its own champion. And it didn’t choose you.
Daniel Radcliffe: (leaning in, his voice cold) You’re right, Jake. The Force didn’t choose me. The world did. And unlike you, I don’t need a prophecy to prove my worth.
Jake Lloyd: (clutching his datapad tighter) This isn’t over. One day, the galaxy will know the truth.
Daniel Radcliffe: (grinning) Good luck with that, Skyguy. Say hi to George for me.
Jake Lloyd: (turning to leave, his voice firm) Enjoy your throne while you can, Radcliffe. The Force has a way of humbling even the mightiest Sith.
Daniel Radcliffe: (calling after him) May the Force be with you, Jake. You’ll need it.
Jake Lloyd exits the hall, his determination unshaken despite Radcliffe’s taunts. Radcliffe returns to his throne, laughing softly, but for a brief moment, a shadow of doubt flickers across his face.
Scene: A quiet, dreamlike meadow bathed in golden light. Jake Lloyd sits alone on a fallen tree, clutching a small hologram of Queen Amidala. Suddenly, Natalie Portman appears, dressed in Amidala’s regal robes, her face full of sorrow.
Natalie Portman: (softly) Jake.
Jake Lloyd: (looking up, his face lighting up) Queen Amidala! You’re here. I knew you’d come.
Natalie Portman: (sighing, sitting beside him) Jake, I’m not here as Amidala. I’m here as Natalie.
Jake Lloyd: (confused) But… you are Amidala. You’re the queen. The one George promised me I’d marry.
Natalie Portman: (shaking her head, her voice heavy with regret) Jake, George lied to you. He lied to both of us.
Jake Lloyd: (staring at her, stunned) What are you talking about? He told me I was the Chosen One. That I’d bring balance to the Force. That you and I were destined to be together.
Natalie Portman: (gently) And he told me Hayden Christensen was going to marry me. That our love story would live on forever. But it was never real, Jake. It was all just… a farce.
Jake Lloyd: (shaking his head, his voice trembling) No. That can’t be true. The Force is real. I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it.
Natalie Portman: (placing a hand on his shoulder) I know you want to believe that, Jake. I did too. But George wasn’t building a prophecy. He was building a story. A story to sell tickets and toys.
Jake Lloyd: (his eyes filling with tears) So… I’m not the Chosen One?
Natalie Portman: (tearing up as well) I’m so sorry, Jake. You’re not. And I’m not a queen. I’m just an actress.
Jake Lloyd: (his voice breaking) But it felt so real. You and me, the galaxy, the destiny… it was all I had.
Natalie Portman: (nodding) I know. It felt real to me too. But George wasn’t creating a legacy for us. He was creating a legacy for himself.
Jake Lloyd: (bitterly) So what are we, then? Just pawns in his game?
Natalie Portman: (sadly) Maybe. Or maybe we’re more than that. We’re people, Jake. People who can move on, who can create our own stories.
Jake Lloyd: (looking down at the hologram in his hands) I don’t know if I can. He took everything from me.
Natalie Portman: (gently lifting his chin to look at her) Then take it back. Not for George, not for the fans, but for yourself.
Jake Lloyd: (after a long pause) Do you think it’s too late?
Natalie Portman: (smiling faintly) It’s never too late. The Force may be a farce, but hope doesn’t have to be.
Jake Lloyd: (nodding slowly) Thanks, Natalie.
Natalie Portman: (standing, her robes flowing in the wind) You’re welcome, Jake. And for what it’s worth… I’m sorry for breaking your heart.
Jake Lloyd: (watching her walk away) George broke both of ours.
As Natalie fades into the golden light, Jake sits alone, the hologram flickering in his hands. For the first time, he lets it go, watching it vanish into the breeze.
Scene: A grand cathedral, the light streaming through stained-glass windows. Pope Pius XIII stands at the pulpit, a crowd of followers gathered below. Jake Lloyd is standing beside him, looking slightly bewildered but hopeful. The Pope raises his hands to the heavens as the congregation watches with bated breath.
Pope Pius XIII: (booming voice) Brothers and sisters, today is a day of great victory! A day of miracles! For we have witnessed the impossible! The prophecy, the curse, the madness… it has all been undone!
Congregation: (whispering in awe) What miracle? What has happened?
Pope Pius XIII: (gesturing to Jake Lloyd) I stand before you, not just as your Pope, but as a healer of souls! A savior of the lost! For today, I declare—Jake Lloyd’s schizophrenia… is cured!
Jake Lloyd: (looking confused) Wait, what? I—
Pope Pius XIII: (interrupting, raising his hands dramatically) Yes, yes! It is true! The delusions, the visions, the false promises from George Lucas himself—gone! All of it, erased! No longer will Jake be haunted by the ghosts of Jedi prophecies and broken dreams! He is free!
Jake Lloyd: (awkwardly) I… I’m not sure if that’s how it works, but, uh… thanks, I guess?
Pope Pius XIII: (ignoring him, addressing the crowd) It is a miracle of the highest order! A divine intervention that has cleansed his mind and spirit! No longer will Jake be tormented by the false belief that he was the Chosen One! He is free to live as a man, not a slave to a broken narrative!
Congregation: (applauding wildly, some crying tears of joy) Praise be to the Pope! Praise be to the healer!
Jake Lloyd: (nervously) I mean, I’m still kind of figuring things out, but… sure, I guess I’m cured.
Pope Pius XIII: (turning to Jake, a broad smile on his face) Yes, yes, you are! And now, you shall go forth, my son, with a clear mind and a bright future! The chains of the past are broken! You are no longer a prisoner to the farce of destiny!
Jake Lloyd: (awkwardly stepping away from the Pope) Uh… I think I’ll just… take it one day at a time.
Pope Pius XIII: (raising his arms to the sky) And so, the world is saved once again! Jake Lloyd is free! The prophecy is no more!
Congregation: (chanting) Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Jake Lloyd: (muttering to himself) This is… a lot to process.
Pope Pius XIII: (beaming) Rejoice, my child! Rejoice, for you are healed! And the world will never forget this day—the day the Chosen One was freed from his delusions!
Jake Lloyd: (under his breath) Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s confused.