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Katniss Molotov and Comrade Jozo

Katniss Molotov

A Revolutionary Screenplay

FADE IN:

EXT. EAST VANCOUVER – NIGHT

The neon lights of a dozen BANK MACHINES hum in the darkness. A camera pans across shattered bottles on the ground—empty beer cans everywhere, but not a single glass bottle in sight.

JOZO (30s, weary but fiery) kicks the ground.

JOZO
(angrily)
Damn it, Katniss! Not a single glass bottle left in East Van. How do you fight the capitalist machine without glass for a Molotov?

KATNISS MOLOTOV (20s, leather jacket, fire in her eyes) lights a cigarette, smirking.

KATNISS
If the bankers think they can chain us down with plastic bottles and debit fees…
(leans in)
We’ll just break their machines another way.

They both pull out a tube of industrial SUPERGLUE.

KATNISS & JOZO
(in unison, yelling at the ATM)
TO EACH ACCORDING TO ABILITY, AND TO EACH ACCORDING TO THEIR NEED!

Katniss glues every button on the ATM keypad. Jozo slathers glue into the card slot with a wild laugh.

CUT TO:

INT. SAFEWAY SUPERMARKET – EAST VAN – DAY

Chaos and joy intermingle. The ATM lines are gone. Shoppers stand around confused.

SUNDEEP (25, Safeway clerk with a mop, anarchist at heart) rips off his work vest, storms into the manager’s booth, and cranks the stereo system.

LOUDSPEAKER:
Rage Against the Machine’s “Killing in the Name” BLASTS.

Sundeep grabs the mic.

SUNDEEP
SCREAMS:
JUST TAKE WHAT YOU NEED!
There’s enough for everyone’s needs—not their greed!

Crowds CHEER. People start sharing food, loading carts carefully, no cash registers ringing. Honor system activated.

CUT TO:

EXT. SAFEWAY PARKING LOT – NIGHT

Communal fires burn in metal barrels. Neighbors trade bread for beans, milk for rice. No one goes hungry.

SEAN PENN (60s, dressed in a red commissar coat, cigar in hand) struts in.

SEAN PENN
Comrades, tonight we feast. But if anyone hoards… I’ll be the one to decide.

Everyone laughs nervously but then nods.

Sean Penn picks up a bag of chips from a man holding five.

SEAN PENN
One for you. Four for the people.

The crowd ROARS with approval.

MONTAGE:

– Children eat fresh fruit under street murals of Marx and Che.
– Old ladies laugh, trading bread loaves like baseball cards.
– The Safeway shelves empty perfectly—nothing wasted, nothing hoarded.
– Graffiti spreads across East Van walls: “EAT THE RICH, FEED THE POOR.”

NARRATOR (V.O.)

That night, East Van turned into a paradise.
Everyone had a full belly.
And not a single scrap of food went to waste.

FADE OUT.

TITLE CARD:
The night of the revolution was only the beginning…

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Croatian Hemp Glue Bandages

Joseph Christian Jukic—JCJ—stood before a small group of young inventors, holding up a strip of pale green cloth.

“This,” he said, “is the future. A bandage that heals without poison.”

The strip was woven from hemp fibers, bonded with a glue pressed from the same plant. No petroleum derivatives. No chemical irritants. No quiet toxins that seeped into children’s bloodstreams, as had been whispered for decades about the bandages sold by Johnson & Johnson.

JCJ raised his voice, quoting from the Scriptures that had carried him through every trial:

“He will bind up their wounds and heal the brokenhearted.”

“The prophecy was never about corporations profiting from pain,” he continued. “It was about compassion, about binding wounds with truth, not lies. Hemp has been given to us since the beginning—stronger than cotton, safer than plastic, and clean enough to touch the skin of our children.”

The crowd listened. Some skeptics crossed their arms. Others nodded, already imagining first aid kits lined with these green strips instead of toxic ones.

JCJ pressed the bandage onto his own hand where he had cut himself earlier while working. The hemp glue held instantly, firm but soft, allowing his skin to breathe.

“Let this be the beginning,” JCJ said. “No more poisons disguised as cures. No more worship at the altar of Johnson & Johnson. We will bind up our own wounds—and the wounds of this world—with what God has already provided.”

The people clapped. It wasn’t just a product launch. It was a calling.

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One Man to Overthrow

“People think you need an army. A legion. A revolution. But the truth is… it only takes one man. One man to make the invisible, visible. To drag the shadows into the light. The deep state, the globalists, the so-called Illuminati—whatever name they hide behind—they think justice will never reach them without millions rising up. But they’re wrong. It’s just me versus them. No likes. No comments. No audience. Just me… and the mission.”