EXT. THE CLUB - NIGHT
Blue VIP ropes criss-cross the door. There is a huge line of SLAMMIN’ MODELS. Hella-fine. Mint booty. Granite abs. Sweet ass boobies. Statuesque. Goddamn.
NARRATOR (we’re thinking George Clooney): Some things in life are worth waiting for.
The line snakes around the block. Into buildings. Over bridges. Up staircases. Into residential homes. Through the forest.
NARRATOR (Cloonster): But just because they’re worth waiting for, doesn’t mean you have to.
The end of the line. It’s gone around the world. Reached the front of the club again. Cloonster is last in line. He spreads his arms and floats backward into the club.
NARRATOR (The Cloon Hound): Subversive. For men. By BVLGARI.
INT. A COMPLETELY WHITE ROOM
White walls. No doors or windows. A hot FEMALE MODEL lounges hotly in one corner. Celestial light emanates from her rockin’ bod. She wears a polkadot dress.
NARRATOR: Which is more important? What’s on the outside? Or what’s on the inside?
We’re zooming in. Moving toward a single polkadot on her dress. (This model will need to be extra crazy hot since we’re zooming in close.)
NARRATOR: Maybe what’s really important, is what’s on the inside of the outside.
We’ve zoomed in to a molecular level. One of the fibers in the polkadot is a catwalk. There’s a fashion show happening on it. We zoom back out really fast. The female model winks.
FEMALE MODEL: of the inside.
NARRATOR: Polka. A new fragrance from Kate Spade.
Open on a shot of a couple on a motorcycle. Not one of those crotch rockets, more of a cruiser like Triumph of Harley. Hottie riding on the back. Her hair is all flowy in the wind and there’s at least two or three sun flares. Now they’re at the beach. They gaze out at the water all model-y. A dolphin jumps out of the water. It does flip after flip and with its fin, it beckons for the girl. She bites her lower lip, then jumps int the water and swims out to the dolphin. The man reaches after her and cries “NO!” and then in a whisper “…not again.”
Escape. A new fragrance for her. By Jennifer Lopez.
A fly female model is arguing with someone in a phone booth. Trench coat. Red shoes. She’s angry. Angry and hot. She hangs up and stands there for a moment, collecting herself. That’s when the phone rings again. Curious, she lifts the receiver to her ear. A musky voice says,
“Everything is going to be perfect.”
She looks over her shoulder at the street. Just then, a jet-black limo drives by. A male model is standing out of the sunroof. No shirt on. AND HE’S ON THE PHONE.
Perfect. For her. By Jean-Paul Gaultier.
A bangin’ model wakes up in a log cabin. It’s silent. She’s excited, inquisitive. She crosses the room and opens the door slowly, but there’s another door just beyond it. She opens that one. There’s another, and another, and another! Finally she gives up and drops to the floor, defeated. Just then, a chisled, bearded male model wearing only jeans and suspenders opens the door from the other side.
"Don’t ever give up," he says.
Then he shuts the door again.
Endure. For Her. By Tommy Hilfiger.
A boxer is leaving a match. He’s surrounded by flash bulbs. Paparazzi. He’s all beat up, but in a sexy way. Flash forward. Now he’s in the bathroom of his penthouse. His smokin’ model girlfriend waits outside the door. Suddenly, he flips out! He smashes the bathroom mirror. Sweeps everything off the counter. Falls to his knees. Weeps. That’s when Model Girlfriend walks in. She leans down and whispers in his ear,
Victory. Por Homme. By Christian Dior
A woman is in a snow-covered forest. All white dress. White trees. White sky. A black male model stands in the distance. He’s shirtless, except for a bright red scarf. He’s beckoning her. Now she’s running toward him. But just as she reaches him, he’s gone. It was an illusion! She falls to her knees in despair and drops her head. Lo and behold, his red scarf is on the ground in front of her. She presses it to her face and inhales deeply. When she looks up, she has become him. Still no shirt on, though.
Torment. For Him. By Gucci
A chariot is being driven across the sky. It’s moving elegantly though the clouds and steadily toward the sun. Cut to a close up. There is a hella sexy model at the helm. She’s wearing a shiny gold vintage 50’s bathing suit and a helmet with some Apollo wings. As she approaches the sun, she also appears to be inching closer to a mind boggling orgasm. Suddenly, in a flash, we cut to the same model. Poolside. Waking up. An ethnically ambiguous cabana boy has been watching her. She’s super into it.
Flare. By Donatella Versace.
Beyonce is walking through Grand Central Station in a massive, overly flowing blue dress. It’s in slow motion, but not too slow. The whole station is quiet, the only sound you hear is the clicking of her heels against the marble floor. The entire time, everyone in the station is frozen, but each time she passes someone, they are majestically transformed into Beyonce. She reaches an exit, opens the double doors and the brightest blinding light pours through into the station. Everything fades to white. (For music we’re thinking something by Beyonce.)
Be Beyonce. By Beyonce
A lion with a huge plaid mane sits in the middle of Times Square. (side note: this entire commercial has a green filter over it.) Passersby walk on as if nothing is there. Cut to a shot of a man. He is in a penthouse. He looks down at the street below where the lion sits. A woman is sitting on the bed behind him. Suddenly, we cut back to the lion. It lets out a triumphant roar. At the very same time, the man’s shirt flies off in dramatic fashion. The woman looks over and bites her lower lip all seductive like.
ROAR. A fragrance for men. By Burberry.