The Biggest The Best

Setting: A quiet, opulent lounge at a charity event in Monaco, 2002. The murmur of wealthy guests fills the air.

Characters:

  • JCJ (Joseph C. Jukic): Observant, sharp, with a knowing smile.
  • Arnold Schwarzenegger: Relaxed, but with the keen awareness of a public figure. A glass of mineral water in his hand.

(JCJ leans slightly towards Arnold, nodding discreetly towards a distinguished older gentleman in a impeccably tailored suit holding court across the room.)

JCJ: You see that man over there, Arnold? The one speaking with the curator?

Arnold: (Squints slightly, then nods) Lord Rothschild. Of course. A powerful man. Very connected.

JCJ: Exactly. The richest man in Babylon. The king of his particular mountain. It’s an old world, that one. All quiet handshakes and generational influence.

(Arnold turns to JCJ, intrigued by the tone.)

Arnold: And what mountain are we on, Joe?

JCJ: (Chuckles softly) A louder one. A brighter one. One with explosions and one-liners that echo in every kid’s head from Detroit to Delhi. Seeing him just now made me think of you.

Arnold: (Raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming) What, you want me to start wearing a pinstripe suit and buy a bank? I tried putting on a tie for Junior. It didn’t work.

JCJ: No, no. Nothing like that. Think about it. He is the absolute pinnacle of his world. The archetype. When people think of that kind of immense, almost untouchable financial power, they think of a Rothschild.

(JCJ pauses, letting the comparison hang in the air.)

JCJ: And when anyone, anywhere on this planet, thinks of an action star… the biggest, the best, the very definition of the word… they think of you. You are the Rothschild of action.

Arnold: (Leans back, his smirk softening into a genuine, thoughtful expression. He lets out a low grunt of appreciation.) Hah. That’s a new one. I’ve been called the Austrian Oak, the Governator… never that.

JCJ: It’s true. You didn’t just play the part; you built the genre. You are the kingdom. And that’s why I say you’re not just the biggest. You are possibly the last action hero.

Arnold: (Nods, his voice dropping to a more reflective tone) The last? Because the world is changing.

JCJ: Exactly. It’s all becoming green screens and wirework. Anyone can be a hero if the pixels are good enough. But what you did… that was physical. It was palpable. It was real. Like old money versus new money. There’s a weight to it. A substance. They can make a thousand action stars now, but they can’t make another you. The era of the one-man empire… the king… is ending.

(Arnold looks out over the glittering crowd, then back at JCJ. He raises his glass of water.)

Arnold: To kings, then. In all their kingdoms. The quiet ones…

(He gestures with his glass towards Lord Rothschild.)

Arnold: …and the loud ones.

(He taps his glass gently against JCJ’s.)

JCJ: To the last king of Babylon.

Arnold: (A wide, iconic grin finally breaks across his face) I still like the sound of that. But the night is young. Maybe I’ll go say hello. See if he wants to be in a movie. I have a script about a banker who fights aliens…

JCJ: (Laughing) Now that’s a handshake I’d pay to see.

(They both laugh, the sound cutting through the dignified hum of the room, two men perfectly aware of their respective domains.)

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The Small Hours

Arnold Schwarzenegger, sitting with a rare moment of reflection, taps his fingers on the table. His mind drifts back to the T-800, the character that made him iconic. He thinks of the neural net processor, the “brain” of the Terminator—a marvel of artificial intelligence, designed to learn, adapt, and calculate at speeds no human brain could match. But today, Arnold’s thoughts are drifting in a new direction.

“Yeah, I’ve been part of those futuristic models, right?” he begins, his voice steady, as if musing aloud to himself. “The T-800 had its neural net processor, a brain chip that allowed it to make decisions in real-time, to process data faster than any human could. But there’s something even more powerful out there… something even more advanced than the machines we’ve built.”

He leans back, looking off into the distance. “DNA computing. It’s the next frontier. Think about it—one gram of DNA can hold 250 million gigabytes of information. That’s like a storage system that can fit the entire world’s data into a single cell. It’s mind-boggling.”

Arnold’s face softens, a hint of curiosity creeping in. “Maybe it’s time we stop thinking of humans as obsolete designs. Maybe we’re not as outdated as we think. We’re made of this incredible genetic code that can store, process, and adapt just like any computer—only it’s more efficient. We don’t need to upload ourselves into a machine or enhance our bodies with metal and chips. We’ve got the most powerful computer system already built into us: our own DNA.”

He pauses, as though mulling over the deeper implications of this revelation. “For years, people talked about how machines would make humans obsolete, how artificial intelligence would surpass human intelligence. But if we really dig into it, maybe the human design is more complex, more powerful than we ever realized. Maybe the future isn’t about replacing us with machines—it’s about unlocking the full potential of what we already are.”

Arnold’s gaze hardens with conviction. “I’ve always believed in human strength, in the ability to push beyond limitations. And now, I think that strength might lie in our biology, in our natural capacity to adapt, evolve, and transcend the designs we’ve made for ourselves.”

He smirks slightly, as if reassured by the thought. “Maybe it’s time to rethink the whole machine versus man thing. Perhaps humanity’s greatest potential isn’t about fighting against technology… It’s about embracing it with us.”

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The Passing of the Torch

Arnold Schwarzenegger Passes the Last Action Hero Torch to Jelly at the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics

The 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics were in full swing, a spectacle of ice, fire, and international unity. But behind the scenes, a different kind of torch was being passed—not the Olympic flame, but the torch of action cinema itself.

Arnold Schwarzenegger stood in a VIP lounge overlooking the Olympic cauldron, dressed in a crisp black suit, a cigar in hand. He had seen many legends rise and fall in Hollywood, but now, he was looking for something different. The future of action films needed fresh faces, a new breed of hero. And he had his eye on two unlikely candidates: Joe Jukic and Nelly Furtado—better known as Jelly.

As they entered the lounge, Arnold turned to greet them with his signature smirk.

“Ah, there they are—Canada’s finest,” he said, extending a hand. “Welcome, Jelly.”

Joe grinned as he shook Arnold’s hand. “We heard you were looking for the next Last Action Heroes.

Nelly raised an eyebrow. “Or is this about Terminator?”

Arnold chuckled. “A little of both. You see, I am always thinking ahead. A franchise like Terminator needs a new John Connor… a new Katherine Brewster. And not just actors—we need warriors, people who understand the real fight ahead.”

Joe leaned in, intrigued. “You mean AI?”

Arnold nodded, his expression turning serious. “The machines are getting smarter, Joe. I don’t have to tell you that. But this is not just about making another movie—it’s about sending a message. People need heroes who fight for something real. And you and Nelly? You have that fire. You don’t just act—you believe.

Nelly smirked. “So, you’re saying we’re the resistance?”

Arnold took a puff of his cigar and exhaled. “I am saying I see something in you both. Something I saw in the young Linda Hamilton, in the young Edward Furlong… but also something new. You understand the people—not just the Hollywood machine.”

Joe crossed his arms. “But why now? Why us?”

Arnold’s smirk returned. “Because timing is everything. You think I named my pet pig Schnelly for no reason?”

Nelly burst out laughing. “Wait—your pet pig is named Schnelly?”

Arnold nodded proudly. “Yes! Schnelly, as in Schwarzenegger + Jelly. A sign of destiny. When I was Governor of California, I knew I needed to find the next generation before it was too late. So, I trained Schnelly—and now, I train you.”

Joe shook his head, laughing. “I can’t believe we’re being recruited by the Terminator himself… because of a pig.”

Arnold patted Joe’s shoulder. “Destiny comes in many forms, my friend. And if you accept, the future of action cinema—and maybe even the resistance—will rest in your hands.”

Nelly and Joe exchanged glances. This was no ordinary Hollywood pitch.

“You in?” Arnold asked.

Jelly grinned.

“Hasta la vista, baby,” Joe said.

“We’re in,” Nelly added.

And just like that, the torch was passed.

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