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1 Lens: Polarized
2 Lens: UV400 Protection
3 Frame: PC frame with grip coating
4 Weight: 22 grams
5 Color: Blue with Blue Lens
6 Color Name: Falkor’s Fever Dream
PRODUCT ORIGIN STORY
Falkor’s Fever Dream
EXCERPT FROM THE NEVERENDING STORY SCREENPLAY ALTERNATE ENDING:
INT. ATTIC – DAY
Bastian flops down on his back and sighs, a little pissed that The Neverending Story had hooked him, even though it is just a creepier knock-off of Lord-of-the-Rings-meets-Princess-Bride, and obviously not good at all (unless you were six-years old when TNS came out, or your parents bought it on video for some reason, so you saw it when you were six in 1989. In that case, it was life-changing-ly awesome) Where were we? Oh yeah, this nerdy kid reading this book in an attic was super relieved that Atreyu had escaped the swamp… but…WHAT WAS THAT CREATURE THAT SAVED HIM? Bastian sits back up and starts reading again.
After days and nights of unconsciousness,
Atreyu slowly opened his eyes and found
himself in strange surroundings.
He was clean and his wounds were dressed.
EXT. WHEREVER IT IS THAT A CREEPY DRAGON-DOG THING TAKES AN UNCONSCIOUS ADOLESCENT – NIGHT
Atreyu wakes up, surrounded by glistening white fur. Realizing his surroundings, we come to see he is asleep in the armpit of a GIANT, WHITE, DOG-LIKE DRAGON. He lifts it’s arm so he can get away. He doesn’t seem very scared at first, which is concerning because he just woke up, alone, sleeping in a dragon-dog’s armpit. We’re not sure whether to blame the director or the actor for this severe lack of understanding of the situation.
The dragon opens one eye and then closes it. This is FALKOR, the luck dragon.
Leaving so soon, hmm?
(To self) Shit.
(To Falkor) Ummm…I was trying to …
Yea….. I mean no. No!
I like children.
Never! I’m a luck dragon. My name is Falkor.
And my name is…
Atreyu. And you’re on a quest.
How’d you know that?
You were unconscious and you talked in your sleep.
Atreyu’s eyes dart around, anxiously surveying his surroundings for something, anything, to protect himself. As a former barefoot running ultra-marathon champion, he had been used to being able to get out of any situation by simply running away, but heretofore, he had never had to face an adversary that could fly.
Falkor grins in an attempt to comfort Atreyu, who seems nervous. Falkor is socially awkward and totally oblivious to how creepy he is coming off.
Falkor starts straining to reach his ear with his back leg, but his leg is too short.
Could you get round and scratch behind my right ear?
I can never quite reach it.
Falkor closes his eyes and tries to reach the itch. A glint of light catches Atreyu’s eye. Against all odds, there is a MACHETE laying there on the ground which he carefully retrieves and hides behind his back as he tiptoes toward the beast.
Atreyu begins to scratch the spot with his left hand, vigorously.
Oh yea. Huh huh huh, oh. That’s so good. Thank you.
Falkor starts to thump his back leg uncontrollably, Atreyu continues to scratch, then raises the machete up over his head and slices down, cutting off Falkor’s right ear with one deft movement.
INT. FALKOR’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Falkor awakes from this nightmare in a cold sweat. He has a COLD PACK on his head, THERMOMETER in his mouth, his eyes are bloodshot, a HUMIDIFIER steams away at the bedside.
He has a fever, and the only prescription is: more COWBELL. Wait…wrong story. Nevermind about the cowbell.
So, Atreyu enters, wearing a VEST OF GLOSSY WHITE FUR and carrying a tray with a BOWL OF STEAMING SOUP.
Falkor slowly turns his head, revealing his missing right ear. Help!
INT. ATTIC – DAY
Bastian closes the book disgusted and shaking his head to himself.
That took a turn. I don’t think I’m going to finish this piece of crap.