script of the most Genius movie ever made.

Long story short, in the Genius forums they want to make the Wisest movie ever made, They aint gonna make it, their lazy, all of them on welfare, they dont have the hollywood connections like i do.
But in honor of them i will make the most Genius movie ever made, if they like it, they can make the sequal, most Wisest movie ever made.

Goes like this.
Its the CS GO map trixie standing on the gaurd rails with a desert eagle.
guy says why are you doing this, why are you doing this, why are you siding with satyr.
and i say to him…a man’s gotta have dreams, if a man aint got dreams what does he got. i respect that, and im gonna help him accomplish his dreams. besides, u and i got nothing in common. i know what you did to me back at that city, you liberals thought i never knew.

then the opening credits begin

D/P

?

It means deleted post.

I initially asked for a link to the Genius Forums, but subsequently managed to find it.

Kinda disappointed here Trixl what. What is the skript.

Here let me show you.

celtx.com/index.html

[code]OVER BLACK:

      In the darkness, we hear the solitary sound of a HEARTBEAT,
      resounding like a drum.
                     
       NARRATOR (V.O)
       In between the years when the
       oceans drank Atlantis and the rise
       of the Sons of Aryas, there was an
       age undreamed of, when shining
       kingdoms lay spread across the
       world like blue mantles under the
       stars. Hither came Conan, the
       Cimmerian: a thief, a slayer, a
       king born of battle.
                     
      Muffled sounds, as if underwater, echo: CLANGING swords, the
      guttural CRIES of combat.
                     
                     UNBORN BABY
                     
      Eyes closed, floating at peace within red glow of the womb.
                     
      Suddenly, a flash of steel, as a sword pierces the womb, its
      tip not an inch from the baby's head.
                     
      As the sword is ripped out, light streams in from outside, we
      travel with it, into the DIN of BATTLE.
                     
                     
      EXT. CIMMERIA - MUDDY FIELD - DAY
                     
      A blonde-haired, armored AESIR RAIDER withdraws the bloody
      sword from the stomach of ISLENE, a wild-maned Cimmerian
      beauty, many months pregnant, now clutching her bloody
      stomach.
                     
      Across a muddy battlefield, the air a maelstrom of falling
      snowflakes and embers from trees aflame, the powerfully built
      CORIN rallies his fellow CIMMERIANS, until he spots Islene.
                     
                      CORIN
       Islene!!!
                     
      Wielding a broadsword, runes etched into its surface, Corin
      cuts a bloody path through his enemies, his eyes never
      leaving Islene.
                     
      The Aesir standing over Islene LAUGHS as she claws at the
      earth behind her, trying to pull herself away.
                     
                      AESIR
       Now, now little whore. Did I get
       you or your little one?
       2.
                     
                     
      Islene's hand reaches back once again -- and it finds a
      fallen warrior's SWORD. In one fluid motion she swings the
      sword around her body and drives it into the gap in the
      Aesir's armor -- at his groin.
                     
                      ISLENE
       I'd ask you the same.
                     
      The Aesir HOWLS in agony, raising his sword to deliver the
      killing blow -- when another sword pierces his chest. The
      Aesir falls, revealing Corin standing behind him.
                     
      Corin throws aside his horned helmet, and falls to his knees
      beside Islene, checking her wound. When he pulls his hands
      back they are coated in blood.
                     
      Their eyes meet. Torment. Loss. They both know. She pulls a
      knife from the folds of her pelts, puts it in his hand.
                     
                      ISLENE (CONT'D)
       Take your child.
                     
                      CORIN
       I cannot.
                     
      Islene looks to her naked belly. The baby inside presses
      against its womb, a visible impression on her flesh.
                     
                      ISLENE
       There is no time, husband. I would
       see my child's face.
                     
      Islene's eyes flutter as she struggles. Corin lowers the
      knife. Islene's eyes lock with Corin's as he puts the knife
      to use. Never once does she scream.
                     
      A moment later, Corin lifts the crying, blood-covered BOY up
      through the falling snowflakes to Islene's lap.
                     
                      ISLENE (CONT'D)
       A boy. He will be strong. A warrior
       with no equal.
                     
                      CORIN
       Do not speak, love.
                     
                      ISLENE
       You have never been able to still
       my tongue, and you will not this
       day. He will be wild, Corin. You
       must temper him.
                     
      She shares one kiss with her child, its first taste not of
      mother's milk, but of her blood.
       3.
                     
                     
                      ISLENE (CONT'D)
                      (FADING)
       Conan. His--name--is--Conan.
                     
                     CONAN
                     
      The boy's eyes are as deep and blue as the Eastern Sea.
                     
      TITLE CARD: CONAN
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
                     
      EXT. CIMMERIAN VILLAGE - DAY
                     
      A small Cimmerian village lies in a heavily forested valley,
      a redoubt from the icy mountains surrounding it.
                     
      Round wooden huts surround a stone-lined pit, where young
      CIMMERIAN BOYS, ages 12-15 stand. Pollen drifts through the
      air, giving it an ethereal haze.
                     
      At the center of the pit URAN, an elder Cimmerian warrior
      speaks.
                     
                      URAN
       A Cimmerian warrior is like any
       other man. A Cimmerian warrior
       feels hunger. He feels cold. Like
       other men he may lie and cheat.
       (stares the boys down)
       But when a Cimmerian warrior
       hungers, he hungers only for the
       blood of his enemy. When he feels
       cold, it is the cold steel of his
       sword. When he lies, he lies in
       wait for his enemy. And when he
       cheats, he cheats death itself!
                     
      Uran stops at the end of the line, where a boy stands a good
      two heads smaller than the rest. He is no more than eight,
      but his face is as stoic, driven.
                     
                      URAN (CONT'D)
       Conan! You are too young to be
       here. Withdraw.
                     
      CONAN, determined, doesn't move an inch. The LARGEST TEEN
      menacingly steps up to the smaller boy.
                     
                      LARGEST TEEN
       He said leave, motherless whelp.
       4.
                     
                     
      The hulking teen goes to shove Conan, but Conan pulls his arm
      towards him, lashing out with his other hand, punching the
      teen in the throat.
                     
      The large boy goes down hard, hands and knees, gasping for
      air.
                     
      A smattering of LAUGHS erupt from the boys, quickly silenced
      by Uran's stare. Uran hands out RIVER STONES to each boy,
      ending with Conan. The boys know what to do: they put the
      large stones in their mouths.
                     
                      URAN
       In the black crag in the high pass
       stands a wooden training sword. The
       one who claims it, with stone still
       in his mouth, will have earned the
       right to train with the warriors.
                     
      The boys look at each other, sizing up the competition.
                     
                      URAN (CONT'D)
       Well? What are you waiting for?!
                     
      And off they run. They knock each other down, punching the
      other's stomachs, each trying to force the other to expel
      their stones. One or two succeed.
                     
      Most of the remaining boys run for the trail that winds high
      into the mountains. But a few head right for the sheer cliff
      face.
                     
      Conan follows the ones headed to the cliff.
                     
                     CLIFF FACE
                     
      And when the Cimmerian boys climb, it is a sight to behold.
      They find cracks we can barely see and scale the smooth rock
      face as though it were a ladder.
                     
      The hulking teen reaches for the same handhold as Conan,
      trying to knock him off. Conan swings with one hand and finds
      another path. In moments he is ahead.
                     
                     
      EXT. FOREST - DAY
                     
      Conan is in the lead as he crests the cliff top, the bigger
      boys right behind him.
                     
      They race through the forest, heading uphill --
                     
      When Conan spots movement ahead. He pauses --
       5.
                     
                     
      And the largest teen elbows past Conan, into the lead. The
      boy runs two paces more and suddenly flies off his feet, an
      AXE lodged squarely in his forehead.
                     
      All the boys stop. Out of the dense forest come
                     
      FOUR PICTISH SAVAGES
                     
      Covered with fearsome war paint and armed with dual hand
      axes, the rotting heads of their enemies are slung at their
      waist.
                     
      The boys spit out the rocks in their mouths and YELL. They
      turn and run in the opposite direction.
                     
      Only Conan doesn't move, even as another boy pulls at him.
                     
                      CIMMERIAN BOY
       Conan! Run!
                     
      But Conan simply pulls the axe from his large boy's skull. He
      turns to face the Picts, his eyes burning.
                     
      The Picts LAUGH and CHARGE CONAN.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
                     LATER
                     
      Corin arrives with Uran and other armed CIMMERIAN WARRIORS.
      They get a brief glimpse of a single PICT, escaping in the
      other direction. One of the Cimmerians takes off in pursuit.
      Corin desperately searches for his son.
                     
                      CORIN
       Conan? Conan?!
                     
      Conan steps forward from out of a thicket, his body covered
      in Pict blood. Three PICTS lie massacred, the bodies hacked
      to pieces.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       What have you done, boy?
                     
      Conan walks past the other stunned Cimmerians, up to his
      father. Conan SPITS OUT the bloody stone from his mouth.
                     
                      CONAN
       They killed one. I killed three. I
       am a warrior now.
                     
      Uran and the other Cimmerian men exchange worried glances.
      Looking at the carved up bodies of the Picts, they are
      aghast. Conan looks confused. Why aren't they happy?
       6.
                     
                     
                      CORIN
       A warrior? What you have done a
       jackal would do. Never a warrior.
                     
                      CONAN
       They would have done the same --
                     
                      CORIN
       As I said, jackals.
                      (TO URAN)
       He is not ready. I will forge him
       myself.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
                     
                     TRAINING MONTAGE:
                     
      Conan is tested under Corin's watchful eye:
                     
      - Forced to sleep in the snow, while his father keeps warm
      inside.
                     
      - A heavy boulder on his shoulder blades while he balances on
      wet river rocks.
                     
      - Climbing a cliff face, his bare hands leaving blood behind
      on the jagged rocks.
                     
                     
      INT. CIMMERIAN FORGE - DAY
                     
      Flames reflect in the blue eyes of Conan as he works the
      bellows of the forge. Sparks buzz like angry fireflies as he
      stokes the blaze.
                     
      Corin sharpens a sword, perfecting it. Conan cannot take his
      eyes off it, stepping away from the bellows.
                     
                      CORIN
       Stoke your fire, boy.
                     
      Conan slams the bellows closed, anger rising.
                     
                      CONAN
       "Stoke your fire, chop your wood."
       I have slept where wolves dare not.
       I have balanced a thousand river
       stones. When will you teach me the
       sword?
                     
      Corin stares his son in the eyes. Judging.
       7.
                     
                     
                      CORIN
       Think you're ready? Then tell me:
       what is a sword's purpose?
                     
                      CONAN
       To slay ones enemies.
                     
                      CORIN
       No. That is what it does. Its
       purpose is why you use it.
                     
      He tosses Conan two lumps of ore.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       Tell me, which makes the best
       sword?
                     
      Conan takes the two lumps, testing them. He hands his father
      back one.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       The stronger ore, eh? Then we shall
       make a sword of it, and tomorrow
       you will show me what brute
       strength yields.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
                     
      EXT. FIELD - DUSK
                     
      With a setting sun silhouetting the two, Conan attacks Corin.
      Conan attacks with fury. Corin defends with grace. Until the
      boy overextends and Corin slashes down a counterattack that
      SHATTERS CONAN'S SWORD.
                     
      Corin simply turns and walks away, leaving Conan to puzzle
      what happened.
                     
      Corin lowers his sword and walks away, leaving Conan to
      puzzle what happened.
                     
                     
      INT. CORIN'S FORGE - NIGHT
                     
      Conan works the bellows, putting his back into it. Corin
      places both ores in the furnace where they begin to melt.
                     
                      CONAN
       Why did it break?
       8.
                     
                     
                      CORIN
       Because it had no life.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
      Sparks fly as Corin pounds on the glowing edge of the sword
      with hammer. Corin nods at Conan, who sprinkles the glowing
      blade with ash.
                     
       CORIN (O.S.) (CONT'D)
       The strongest blade isn't made of
       the hardest steel, boy. The hardest
       ore is what a man will die for. It
       is strong and unyielding. It
       neither cowers nor concedes. But
       without the softer ore, it can be
       shattered like glass.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
      Steam rises as Corin lowers the blade into a freezing slack
      tub, only to place it right back into the flames.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       The softer ore is what a man lives
       for. It is flexible and lasting. It
       survives, even against the greatest
       of foes. But too much of the soft
       ore, the blade will not cut deep
       enough when it must.
                     
                      CUT TO:
                     
      Corin fashions the blade's hilt, engraving the guard and
      pommel. It is a work of art.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       A sword must be tempered, the two
       ores united through fire and ice.
       Through its suffering the sword
       comes to hold both life and death.
                     
      Corin hands Conan the sword.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       Now tell me, what is this sword's
       purpose?
                     
      Conan furrows his brow, trying to puzzle the answer. He
      can't. Corin's disappointment shows. He takes the sword from
      Conan's hands.
                     
                      CORIN (CONT'D)
       This one is not ready yet.
       9.
                     
                     
      Blood rushes to Conan's face but he says nothing. He rushes
      out.
                     
                     
      EXT. MOUNTAIN LAKE - DAY
                     
      Frustrated, Conan slashes through a field of reeds, cutting
      everything within reach of him, expending his rage.
                     
      Behind him something moves in the forest. We catch just a
      glimpse of the PICT, the same one that escaped Conan in the
      earlier scene.
                     
      Conan's instincts cause him to spin around -- but then
      there's nothing there.
                     
                     
      INT. CIMMERIAN SCOUT POST - DAY
                     
      Built into the side of a huge tree, fifty feet up, this
      wooden structure houses two CIMMERIAN SENTRIES. A BIRD CRIES
      in the woods, causing one of the sentries to investigate.
                     
      THWICK! He suddenly stands up straight, unmoving. The one
      still sitting in the structure notices.
                     
                      CIMMERIAN SENTRY
       See something?
                     
      The standing sentry falls backwards, revealing an ARROW
      piercing his right eye. Shocked, the remaining sentry reaches
      for the WARNING HORN mounted on the wall.
                     
      But as he reaches for it, his shadow becomes three
      dimensional, MORPHING into
                     
      A SHADOW SCOUT
                     
      A thin, feral humanoid, bodies covered in tattoos, from the
      deepest jungles of Zingara. The scout lashes out with his
      black sword and cuts straight across the sentry's throat.
                     
      This Shadow Scout's name is REMO.
                     
                     
      EXT. SCOUT POST - DAY
                     
      Remo exits and stares down at CHEREN, a BLIND ARCHER clad in
      lamellar armor and a conical sedge hat. Cheren has an arrow
      notched and ready, but somehow he knows not to fire.
                     
      Cheren lowers his bow and lets out a BIRD WHISTLE --
       10.
                     
                     
      And the forest comes alive. The forces are an odd
      combination; massive KUSHITE TRIBESMEN, dark-skinned savages
      from the savannahs of Kush, and a LEGION OF AQUILONIAN
      MERCENARIES, heavily armored knights drawn from the cities of
      Aquilonia.
                     
      Their leaders, respectively, are the six foot-five Kushite
      chief UKAFA, gold-toothed, his body painted for battle, and
      the handsome, silver-armored Aquilonian LUCIUS.
                     
                      UKAFA
       That's the last of their guard
       towers.
                     
                      LUCIUS
       All this sneaking around for a
       lowly tribe of barbarians.
                     
       KHALAR SINGH (O.S.)
       This lowly tribe of barbarians have
       buried every warrior ever to set
       foot on this land, Lucius.
                     
      KHALAR SINGH, a warlord atop a black horse, rides through the
      fog-shrouded trees.
                     
      He bears a nomadic visage, with tanned skin and almond-shaped
      eyes. While his voice is calm, his eyes burn with malice.
                     
                      LUCIUS
       That is only because they have
       never faced my legion.
                     
      Khalar regards Lucius with amusement.
                     
                      KHALAR SINGH
       Then show us. But should you fail,
       remember the plan.
                     
      Lucius scowls as he delivers a bow to Khalar Singh.
                     
                     
      EXT. CIMMERIAN VILLAGE - DAY
                     
      Corin walks out of the forge, looking around for Conan.
      Various other Cimmerians go about the daily routine, but
      Conan is nowhere to be seen.
                     
                      CORIN
       Conan?
       11.
                     
                     
      Corin looks to the ridge above the village, noticing a thick
      fog creeping in. The fog curls and eddies, something is out
      there.
                     
      Suddenly, Lucius and his legion of silver-armored warriors
      burst out of the fog, attacking with speed and strength.
                     
      But the Cimmerians are hardly caught flat footed. In seconds
      they are armed, and they counter the charge with a furious
      charge of their own.
                     
      SLAM! Sword and bone collide as the two enemy fronts smash
      into each other. And the battle devolves into one-on-ones --
                     
      Where the barbarians have the upper hand. Uran and Corin lead
      the main push of battle-frenzied barbarians as they swing
      their huge broadswords, extending their reach advantage over
      the Aquilonian's shorter weapons.
                     
      And quickly, the Aquilonian's numbers are cut in half. Corin
      squares off against Lucius himself. Lucius is sweating.
      Worried. It wasn't supposed to be this hard.
                     
                      LUCIUS
       Retreat!
                     
      As a unit, the Aquilonians race back into the woods. In
      seconds, the Cimmerians give chase in wild pursuit.
                     
                      CORIN
       Wait! Hold your ground!
                     
      But it's too late, nearly half the Cimmerian warriors are
      gone on the chase.
                     
                     
      EXT. CLIFF FACE - DAY
                     
      Lucius and the Aquilonians race up to a sheer cliff face.
      Nowhere left to run. They turn to see the Cimmerians
      gathering in front of them.
                     
                      URAN
       Death is in the air, invaders. Can
       you taste it?
                     
                      LUCIUS
                      (SMILES)
       Indeed. I savor it.[/code]

Nice. Gotta love that Year Dot shit.