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Steal my work and trash talk me? You just open Pandora's Box

TL: DR at bottom
Hi everyone. I tried posting this directly in the prorevenge subreddit but it was removed by the automods for not fitting there. You be the judge.
I first wrote about this person here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/cjijj8/vile_former_friend_wont_allow_me_to_grieve_the/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
and here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/g01lc5/vile_former_friend_expects_me_to_make_he?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share.
If you would like to have better context on what a horrible person she is, I suggest you read either of those posts. Both are identical. I cross-posted the original story with a recent update so it wouldn't be buried in an old locked post.
In my linked post I refered to this feckless waste of oxygen as “Karen,” but I think “Molly” is a more appropriate pseudonym as its meaning is: unfortunate or ill-fated. If you choose to read this in its entirety, you will see that it makes perfect sense.
About this story: all names contained herein are fictitious hence the quotation marks around them.
Our cast includes:
Me: Writer, quirky creative movie geek
Molly: Thieving, entitled wannabe “actress” who is as talented as she is honest
Judy: My now-retired former mentor
Don: My graphic web designer friend and still photographer
Tom: Film producer
Jim: Film director
Lana: Actress, Tom and Jim's friend
Andrea: My caustic, yet lovable roommate.
Onto the story.
I was once a young, naive and perhaps a little too trusting aspiring writer. I met “Molly,” mid-forties, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian (relevant to the story), through, “Judy,” my mentor, when I was trying to get my first screenplay, a murder mystery, produced into a feature film. Being green, I had never worked in the business before and I trusted Judy implicitly. She was gold, a wonderful person and, as it would turn out, the polar opposite of Molly.
By the time I met Molly, a spoiled toddler trapped in a 40-something woman's body and self-proclaimed ‘20-year theatre veteran,’ my work had been copyrighted for six months (PSA: it's imperative to protect your creative property and me doing just that saved my butt). Judy had previously worked with Molly on a prior film and suggested her for a dayplayer role in my murder mystery. For those who don't know, a dayplayer is an actor with approximately half a dozen lines and can usually film their part in a day or less. I trusted Judy's judgment so I messaged Molly and sent her the entire script. My first mistake. PSA: Never send your entire script, only script sides (sample dialogue), and a bio/description of the character. You'll save yourself a lot of headaches, both physical and legal.
I ended up having several conversations with Molly. She seemed quite lovely. I will give her that she definitely had her phone etiquette down pat. Little did I know, she was just getting me to lower my walls before she went in for the kill. Molly had accepted the role in the tentative production and we talked virtually daily after that. She was quickly becoming one of my go-to confidants. My second mistake. As Molly and I grew closer, Judy and I grew further apart.
One day, Molly wrote and asked me if I needed my script proofread. I told her there was no such need for that as it was already copyright protected including any errors that might be present. This becomes relevant later. She practically begged me and claimed she ‘just wanted to help.’ I told her, if she took it upon herself to do that, she would not be paid as there was no money and her efforts were pointless. Her behavior struck me as odd. How this seemingly, strong and confident woman had bizarrely behaved like a child, begging her daddy for candy, didn't make any sense.
About a week had passed, Judy wrote me and asked if I was able to speak on the phone. I told her I was available and she called me. She greeted me and promptly got to the point. She inquired why Molly was now claiming she was the cowriter of my script. I was floored. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. I thanked her, ended the call and immediately phoned Molly. Being continually unemployed, all Molly did was chain-smoke in her bathrobe and surf the net all day while her saintly husband worked a hard-labor job. She answered on the first ring. I asked if she knew anything about what Judy had told me. She paused before answering then tried to pass it off as ‘a misunderstanding.’ I decided to play my hand and bluff that other people had told me the same thing. Busted, she caved.
Molly: “Well, I did help you correct everything.”
Me: “Volunteering to copyedit my script does not make you the cowriter. You did a poor job, by the way. My work was already copyright protected in my name six months before I met you. This constitutes plagiarism.”
Molly: “No, it doesn't!“ She paused then, “What's plagiarism?”
I was dumbfounded. The fact that she denied being guilty of something without knowing the meaning of the word was perplexing.
Me: “Look it up. Delete your copy of the script right now. You will only get a new one when and if I choose to cast you.”
By the time I ended the call, it was obvious she was angry. Her pride had been wounded and I should have anticipated her retaliation. Again, hindsight.
The next time I was over at her house, I went on her computer when she wasn't looking. On a hunch, I checked her hard drive and there it was: my script. I deleted it. She later finagled a new copy from a well-meaning cast member and repeated the whole illegal rewrite. It was then that I found out, she was not only claiming to have written the entire script herself, but was also going to have the leading role. Both counts were easily debunked as:
  1. I had the copyright certificate to prove I was the sole writer
  2. The female lead is a 23-year-old woman of Puerto Rican descent (Molly is white, blonde-haired, blue eyed and, at the time, was in her mid-forties)
  3. Molly’s writing was absolutely terrible bordering on indecipherable.
The fact that she was insisting she’d written anything, other than a bad check or a grocery list, was laughable. Despite her claim of having a four-year college degree, she made countless careless, lazy mistakes, that to a casual observer, would suggest she dropped out while in elementary school.
Examples include everything ranging from: run-on sentences consisting of only lowercase letters, failure to capitalize proper nouns, using ‘and’ in the same sentence more than once, using commas as end punctuation, misspelling simple grade school-level words, mixing up her homonyms, using clumps of periods to break up her sentences, etc. All of which completely contradicted her claim that she had written a 100 plus page pristine screenplay. In addition to a highly-embellished typo-filled résumé, she tried passing off an overly filtered camera phone photo as a headshot and had no material for an acting demo reel. Anyone with ‘20 years in the business’ would have had all of these things and more. It should go without saying: if you can't prove something, do not put it on your résumé.
Thanks to the efforts of “Lana,” Molly had gotten into the good graces of, “Jim,” the noted award-winning director. Lana was the big-hearted other lead actress and his close friend. Molly had spun one of her infamous tales of woe i.e. poor me, my life sucks which led Lana to stick up and vouch for her. Molly's entitlement and complete lack of professionalism was duly noted by Jim. Despite her questionable spotty résumé, he only tolerated her for two reasons: she was the ‘writer’ and he felt professionally obligated to as a favor to Lana. I later came to learn, Jim was just biding his time until Molly either shaped up or until she failed her audition and he shipped her out. The role Molly wanted required a very strong actress which she was not. Failing her inevitable screen test, would have given Jim the grounds to have her replaced and, more accurately, fired. This wasn't his first rodeo.
In the meantime, Jim knew Lana could keep Molly in line. I don't fault Lana at all for buying into Molly's tall-tales, as she excelled at emotional manipulation and tugged at people's heart-strings to get her way. This, however, was the beginning of the end. Molly immediately threw her weight around like she was, in her words, ‘the second coming of Meryl Streep’ and ‘being the writer’ demanded a producer credit as well. Her narcissism had reached new heights. Think Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and you'll get the idea. Unfortunately, for her, Jim was quickly losing his patience.
Upon learning that Molly was now claiming she wrote the entire script, I sought out Judy for advice. Regrettably, Judy hated conflict and had long-since grown tired of playing referee between me and Molly. She dropped out of the production. I was left to fend for myself. Retrospectively, I realize her exit caused me to have to put on my big boy pants and confront my dilemma. On one hand, I was this close to spear-heading my first feature film. I wasn't a greedy person. All I wanted was my writing credit and a walk-on role in it. On the other hand, the working script bore little to no resemblance to my original source material. It had practically been taken over by a talentless wannabe ‘produceactress’ whose stiff acting would have looked out of place in an adult film. It was clear, the costs of being associated with Molly far outweighed the next-to-nonexistent benefits. I was on the fence, but knew what I had to do. I was backed in to a corner and was about to break out my secret weapon: my copyright certificate.
It would later turn out, Judy was the first of several people to leave referring to Molly as ‘unprofessional,’ ‘a crazy b---h,’ ‘an amateur,’ ‘a pain in the butt’ and everything in between. I had heard whispers, but I wouldn't become aware of much of the internal conflict, with her as the cause, until after the fact. Molly, of course, always had an answer for everything, including why people kept dropping out i.e. schedule conflicts, production delays, etc. It all seemed feasible, because these things do happen in the film world. Then, one day, I got a message from, “Don,” the California-based graphic web designer, with a copy of the conceptual video done based on my screenplay. This was news to me. Lo and behold, guess who was in the leading role? If you guessed Molly, you get a cookie. The entire storyline had been completely changed. In the credits she was listed as the writer. My name was nowhere to be found.
Her excuse for why I was not in any way involved with the shoot for the promotional video? There was ‘no time’ to get me involved. My name being mistakenly absent from the credits? A clerical error she promised to have fixed (it never was). I brought up that, Don, had been flown in from across the country to be the still photographer, yet I, who lived less than 60 miles away from the filming location, was left out of the loop. She ignored my question and blew me off.
It felt like my soul had been crushed. My labor of love, my first screenplay had been absconded with by this...no-talent, phony! I was caught between tears and rage for a while. It was around the same time I decided to enact my revenge, that I received a panicked phone call from Molly. She had a habit of calling at the most inopportune times. I could have been on a date, sleeping, working, etc. This instance was no exception. After both my landline and cell phone rang multiple times, I finally picked up the landline from which I gave her an aggravated greeting.
The following conversation is mostly from memory and paraphrased as it was a long time ago:
Me [annoyed]: “What do you want?”
Molly: “No time (insert emotional rant as she beat around the bush in an attempt to justify her despicable, entitled behavior all the while maintaining she was just an innocent bystander yet acting guilty as sin).”
Me: “Who did you piss off this time?”
Silence.
Me: “You overstepped your bounds again.”
More silence.
It turns out Molly had tried to play the big boss and no one was having it. She copped an attitude with “Tom,” the producer, stating ‘her orders were the director's orders.’ Her power-play backfired when Tom called Jim to confirm. Jim saw red and had effectively went on strike with Tom following suit. Between Tom and Jim, they had a combined 60 years experience in the business whereas Molly had virtually none. I later learned, Lana apologized profusely for bringing Molly into the fold and had reluctantly played mediator between her two friends. She tried, in vain, to prevent Tom and Jim from quitting, but they had made up their minds. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Molly. The ultimatum was brought down: either Molly went or they went. Them leaving would have created a domino effect and led to the production being halted. That is why Molly was flipping out, not because she was about to be outed as the cause of the whole mess. By this point, I knew her too well and saw right through her drama queen antics.
Me: “What right did you think you had to do that, Molly? Keep in mind, I know more than you think I do. If you lie, I will know. ”
After a long pause she shakily answered.
Molly: “Because I'm the cowriter.”
Me: “No, you're not. I'm so sick of you saying that. It's not only untrue, it's fraud.”
Molly: “But I made changes to it.”
Me: “Unauthorized changes. You just admitted to plagiarism and copyright infringement. Can you bring forth documented proof that you were given permission from me to rewrite my entire script? You can't. What you did was highly unethical and illegal.”
Molly: “But...”
Me [raised voice]: “I'm speaking! You're listening. I'm not gonna keep going in circles with you on this. If I have to scan my copyright certificate and put it on the net for everyone to see, I will.
Dead silence. I turned my printescanner on and scanned a blank document. It had the desired effect as she totally freaked out when she heard it. She was caught in her tangled web of deception and her brain was short circuiting as she kept trying to come up with convincing lies.
Me: “You did know my work was copyright protected, didn't you? If you did and I know you did, that doesn't just make you a criminal, it makes you a stupid criminal. You knowingly committed willful copyright infringement. I have a lawyer on retainer and the means to pursue a lawsuit. Believe me, when I tell you, I have more than enough solid evidence to prove my case if I choose to sue you.”
Molly: “Don't do that!”
Me [patronizing]: “You're right. I'm not gonna waste my time dragging you into court when the court of public opinion is so much more effective.”
Molly [stunned]: “What?”
Me: “I have a file ten inches thick: screenshots, text messages, e-mails, all detailing the subterfuge and dubious tactics you employed to try to screw me out of my creative property. I also have the plagiarized hard copies containing your distinctive moniker on the title page in place of my name. All have time stamps. Add all that to my original hard copy of my script and my copyright certificate? I swear, I'll crucify you. All people have to do is Google your name and they see you're full of it. Being a wannabe is one thing, but you'll never be able to shake the reputation of being labeled a liar and a thief. If this gets out, you'll be unemployable. It's not like people are beating down your door with job offers. Stick a fork in you. You're done.”
Dead silence.
Me: “What? No retort? No spin doctor explanation? Go on. Lie. It's what you do best. Of course, you could always shock the hell out of me and give the truth a whirl.”
Molly [meekly]: “I'm sorry.”
Me: “Why? Because you're wrong, because you're caught or because now everyone knows you for the scam artist that you are? Maybe all of the above. Either way, it's absolutely clear you have nothing even remotely resembling a conscience. Your pride and ego are too big to leave room for one.”
Molly: “I'm really am sorry.”
Me: “Ooh. Not yet, but you will be.”
Molly [horrified]: “What are you gonna do?”
Me: “‘What am I gonna do?’ What am I gonna do? Hmm. Well, for starters I'm going to use the ‘F’ word. Fired. You're fired.”
Molly: “You can't fire me! I...”
Me: “I'm speaking! I can do whatever I want. I own the copyright to (script name). I'll say it again in case you weren't listening. I own the rights to (script name).”
Molly: “I know.”
Me [yelling]: “Then why did you do it?! Did you honestly think you’d get away with trying to usurp my work and turn it in to your own little vanity project?“
Silence.
Me: “You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Now, starting now, your name is off of this project. That's my call. The writing credit you think you deserve because you plagiarized my script? Gone. The leading role that you retooled to fit someone of your age and appearance? Gone. The producing credit you demanded you receive for illegally rewriting my script? Gone.”
Molly [fake crying]: “Why do you hate me?”
Me: “Spare me the crocodile tears. If you put the energy you wasted conning people in to actually going out on and booking auditions, you’d be a working actress right now. Instead, you're a nobody that no one wants to work with, let alone be around. You're just a bored housewife chasing a pipe dream. Make no mistake. I'm not calling you a has-been. You're a never-was.”
Silence.
Me: “Seriously, how many people, have to go no-contact with you before you realize that you're the problem? Even your own daughter doesn't talk to you because you're a vile b---h and you can expect your son to do the same when he goes off to college. You're a compete failure as a professional, a horrible excuse for a human being and not worth any more of my time.”
Molly [no longer fake crying, pleading]: “You don't have to talk to me like that. I can change. I promise I can change.”
Me: “Cut the bullsh--! Save your empty promises for someone who cares, because I have no more f--ks left to give. You better hope Lana can do some fancy footwork and prevent Tom and Jim from quitting. I won't blame them if they do. They're professionals. They don't need to put up with this crap. You also seem to have forgotten, the entire cast and crew was recruited at their invitation. Once they abandon ship, word will spread like wildfire and everyone will mutiny. With them gone, I guarantee you everyone will walk off the set. If this whole thing ends up dead in the water, you can bet your butt, I'll make damn sure to point the finger at you as the reason why. If that happens, I swear on my father's grave, in every way that it matters I'll be done with you. Do you understand?”
Silence.
Me [shouting]: “Do you understand?!”
Molly: “Yes.”
Me: “You see, Molly, I haven't trusted you for quite some time. Now I just don't like you. Get a life. One that doesn't involve me.”
When I ended the call, I was raging hot. The entire conversation was cathartic and liberating. Unlike Molly, I keep promises. I sent all of my documented evidence to Don who then forwarded it to Jim, Tom and the other producers. One by one, all of them publicly quit. They made detailed posts on their Facebook pages. Molly wasn't called out by name specifically, but anyone remotely connected to the production knew the identity of the ‘unprofessional individual’ they alluded to.
The production ultimately ended up being canceled. It eventually came out that I was the only writer and the script presented to them was plagiarized by none other than Molly herself. Those who were unaware of the behind the scenes drama, started blowing up her social media demanding an explanation. Molly, who always had something to say and craved attention, had finally gotten her wish granted by karma. All eyes were on her, just not in the flattering way she wanted. It should come as no surprise, Molly offered up no satisfactory answers to any questions asked and took no responsibility for her monumental screw up. Unable to take the heat, she, in a demonstration of her trademark cowardice, tucked her tail between her legs and went off the grid. Even though, by then everyone knew of her dirty deeds, Molly never did admit she was the reason why everything went to hell in a handbasket. Shocker.
For several months after that, Molly left me alone. Considering she used to stalk me online, I find it amusing she didn't notice when I blocked her on all my social media. I changed cellphone providers shortly thereafter. I also made certain that she never got my new number. I kind of wish I could have seen the epic tantrum she, no doubt, threw when she realized I had gone no-contact with her.
About a month after purging the leech of a fake b---h, known as Molly, out of my life, I got a call on my landline from an unfamiliar number with an out of state area code. I didn't answer but, “Andrea,“ my roommate listened to the voicemail. It was Molly calling to inform me that Jim, the director, had passed away due to a heart attack. I didn't listen to the message. Andrea gave me the gist. Molly sounded panicked and, in her typical entitled fashion, turned the tragedy into a story about herself:
Molly: “Great. Now the movie's never going to get made.”
What a cold-hearted b---h. I was speechless. We were both stunned. Forget the fact that Jim's wife was now a widow or that his children were now fatherless or that his grandchildren would never know their grandfather. Her ego being stroked as a Grade B-movie actress was more important. Andrea deleted the message and I headed to work. Being that I was unable to block her number on the landline, Molly later made another attempt to get my attention with her histrionics. I was still at work when Andrea intercepted the call. A little fact about my roommate: she is a German-Jew native New Yorker with a very big mouth. She takes absolutely no crap and makes Judge Judy Sheindlin seem like a cream puff by comparison. You can just imagine how that entire call went.
Here's a snippet:
Andrea: “Molly, the man died. Does that mean anything to you, you selfish c--t?”
Upon being told off, Molly quickly tried to end the conversation but not before leaving a message to have me call her back. Andrea told Molly that I blocked her on everything for reasons that were already well-known to her and to ‘f--k off.’ Molly was in tears when she hung up. Needless to say, I never did return her call. When Andrea spilled the tea, of how she kicked Molly when she was down, I hugged her and bought her a bottle of her favorite sangria as a thank you.
It's been over six years. I haven't heard from Molly since and don't care to ever again. I'm finally starting to achieve my dreams. I recently produced and had a small role in my first short film for which I wrote the script. It was such a fulfilling and rewarding experience. The whole shoot was so overwhelming in a good way. Being a big softie, I did cry on set. I'm finally doing what I know I was born to do. In case you're wondering, yes. I still plan to produce my murder mystery without any involvement from Molly.
EDIT: For those of you who have been asking, I have since met a very talented director, who is as big of a movie geek as me, and is the complete antithesis to Molly. I don't leave a single exchange with him without feeling educated or inspired. He's a wonderful guy and he loves my murder mystery. Currently, there are plans to get it into development as soon as the coronavirus craziness dies down.
TL: DR: Narcissistic, wannabe “actress” tries to steal my script from me and produce it as her own little vanity project. I kept a detailed record of all her illegal, libelous, malicious deeds and turned everyone against her.
submitted by horrorflickguy to EntitledPeople [link] [comments]

How I dealt with and got revenge on a plaigiarist

TL: DR at bottom
Hi everyone. I hope this doesn't get removed by the moderators. I think it could serve as a cautionary tale on how to recognize the signs when someone is using you and how to deal with them.
I first wrote about this person here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/cjijj8/vile_former_friend_wont_allow_me_to_grieve_the/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
and here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/g01lc5/vile_former_friend_expects_me_to_make_he?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share.
If you would like to have better context on what a horrible person she is, I suggest you read either of those posts. Both are identical. I cross-posted the original story with a recent update so it wouldn't be buried in an old locked post.
In my linked post I refered to this feckless waste of oxygen as “Karen,” but I think “Molly” is a more appropriate pseudonym as its meaning is: unfortunate or ill-fated. If you choose to read this in its entirety, you will see that it makes perfect sense.
About this story: all names contained herein are fictitious hence the quotation marks around them.
Our cast includes:
Me: Writer, quirky creative movie geek
Molly: Thieving, entitled wannabe “actress” who is as talented as she is honest
Judy: My now-retired former mentor
Don: My graphic web designer friend and still photographer
Tom: Film producer
Jim: Film director
Lana: Actress, Tom and Jim's friend
Andrea: My caustic, yet lovable roommate.
Onto the story.
I was once a young, naive and perhaps a little too trusting aspiring writer. I met “Molly,” mid-forties, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian (relevant to the story), through, “Judy,” my mentor, when I was trying to get my first screenplay, a murder mystery, produced into a feature film. Being green, I had never worked in the business before and I trusted Judy implicitly. She was gold, a wonderful person and, as it would turn out, the polar opposite of Molly.
By the time I met Molly, a spoiled toddler trapped in a 40-something woman's body and self-proclaimed ‘20-year theatre veteran,’ my work had been copyrighted for six months (PSA: it's imperative to protect your creative property and me doing just that saved my butt). Judy had previously worked with Molly on a prior film and suggested her for a dayplayer role in my murder mystery. For those who don't know, a dayplayer is an actor with approximately half a dozen lines and can usually film their part in a day or less. I trusted Judy's judgment so I messaged Molly and sent her the entire script. My first mistake. PSA: Never send your entire script, only script sides (sample dialogue), and a bio/description of the character. You'll save yourself a lot of headaches, both physical and legal.
I ended up having several conversations with Molly. She seemed quite lovely. I will give her that she definitely had her phone etiquette down pat. Little did I know, she was just getting me to lower my walls before she went in for the kill. Molly had accepted the role in the tentative production and we talked virtually daily after that. She was quickly becoming one of my go-to confidants. My second mistake. As Molly and I grew closer, Judy and I grew further apart.
One day, Molly wrote and asked me if I needed my script proofread. I told her there was no such need for that as it was already copyright protected including any errors that might be present. This becomes relevant later. She practically begged me and claimed she ‘just wanted to help.’ I told her, if she took it upon herself to do that, she would not be paid as there was no money and her efforts were pointless. Her behavior struck me as odd. How this seemingly, strong and confident woman had bizarrely behaved like a child, begging her daddy for candy, didn't make any sense.
About a week had passed, Judy wrote me and asked if I was able to speak on the phone. I told her I was available and she called me. She greeted me and promptly got to the point. She inquired why Molly was now claiming she was the cowriter of my script. I was floored. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. I thanked her, ended the call and immediately phoned Molly. Being continually unemployed, all Molly did was chain-smoke in her bathrobe and surf the net all day while her saintly husband worked a hard-labor job. She answered on the first ring. I asked if she knew anything about what Judy had told me. She paused before answering then tried to pass it off as ‘a misunderstanding.’ I decided to play my hand and bluff that other people had told me the same thing. Busted, she caved.
Molly: “Well, I did help you correct everything.”
Me: “Volunteering to copyedit my script does not make you the cowriter. You did a poor job, by the way. My work was already copyright protected in my name six months before I met you. This constitutes plagiarism.”
Molly: “No, it doesn't!“ She paused then, “What's plagiarism?”
I was dumbfounded. The fact that she denied being guilty of something without knowing the meaning of the word was perplexing.
Me: “Look it up. Delete your copy of the script right now. You will only get a new one when and if I choose to cast you.”
By the time I ended the call, it was obvious she was angry. Her pride had been wounded and I should have anticipated her retaliation. Again, hindsight.
The next time I was over at her house, I went on her computer when she wasn't looking. On a hunch, I checked her hard drive and there it was: my script. I deleted it. She later finagled a new copy from a well-meaning cast member and repeated the whole illegal rewrite. It was then that I found out, she was not only claiming to have written the entire script herself, but was also going to have the leading role. Both counts were easily debunked as:
  1. I had the copyright certificate to prove I was the sole writer
  2. The female lead is a 23-year-old woman of Puerto Rican descent (Molly is white, blonde-haired, blue eyed and, at the time, was in her mid-forties)
  3. Molly’s writing was absolutely terrible bordering on indecipherable.
The fact that she was insisting she’d written anything, other than a bad check or a grocery list, was laughable. Despite her claim of having a four-year college degree, she made countless careless, lazy mistakes, that to a casual observer, would suggest she dropped out while in elementary school.
Examples include everything ranging from: run-on sentences consisting of only lowercase letters, failure to capitalize proper nouns, using ‘and’ in the same sentence more than once, using commas as end punctuation, misspelling simple grade school-level words, mixing up her homonyms, using clumps of periods to break up her sentences, etc. All of which completely contradicted her claim that she had written a 100 plus page pristine screenplay. In addition to a highly-embellished typo-filled résumé, she tried passing off an overly filtered camera phone photo as a headshot and had no material for an acting demo reel. Anyone with ‘20 years in the business’ would have had all of these things and more. It should go without saying: if you can't prove something, do not put it on your résumé.
Thanks to the efforts of “Lana,” Molly had gotten into the good graces of, “Jim,” the noted award-winning director. Lana was the big-hearted other lead actress and his close friend. Molly had spun one of her infamous tales of woe i.e. poor me, my life sucks which led Lana to stick up and vouch for her. Molly's entitlement and complete lack of professionalism was duly noted by Jim. Despite her questionable spotty résumé, he only tolerated her for two reasons: she was the ‘writer’ and he felt professionally obligated to as a favor to Lana. I later came to learn, Jim was just biding his time until Molly either shaped up or until she failed her audition and he shipped her out. The role Molly wanted required a very strong actress which she was not. Failing her inevitable screen test, would have given Jim the grounds to have her replaced and, more accurately, fired. This wasn't his first rodeo.
In the meantime, Jim knew Lana could keep Molly in line. I don't fault Lana at all for buying into Molly's tall-tales, as she excelled at emotional manipulation and tugged at people's heart-strings to get her way. This, however, was the beginning of the end. Molly immediately threw her weight around like she was, in her words, ‘the second coming of Meryl Streep’ and ‘being the writer’ demanded a producer credit as well. Her narcissism had reached new heights. Think Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and you'll get the idea. Unfortunately, for her, Jim was quickly losing his patience.
Upon learning that Molly was now claiming she wrote the entire script, I sought out Judy for advice. Regrettably, Judy hated conflict and had long-since grown tired of playing referee between me and Molly. She dropped out of the production. I was left to fend for myself. Retrospectively, I realize her exit caused me to have to put on my big boy pants and confront my dilemma. On one hand, I was this close to spear-heading my first feature film. I wasn't a greedy person. All I wanted was my writing credit and a walk-on role in it. On the other hand, the working script bore little to no resemblance to my original source material. It had practically been taken over by a talentless wannabe ‘produceactress’ whose stiff acting would have looked out of place in an adult film. It was clear, the costs of being associated with Molly far outweighed the next-to-nonexistent benefits. I was on the fence, but knew what I had to do. I was backed in to a corner and was about to break out my secret weapon: my copyright certificate.
It would later turn out, Judy was the first of several people to leave referring to Molly as ‘unprofessional,’ ‘a crazy b---h,’ ‘an amateur,’ ‘a pain in the butt’ and everything in between. I had heard whispers, but I wouldn't become aware of much of the internal conflict, with her as the cause, until after the fact. Molly, of course, always had an answer for everything, including why people kept dropping out i.e. schedule conflicts, production delays, etc. It all seemed feasible, because these things do happen in the film world. Then, one day, I got a message from, “Don,” the California-based graphic web designer, with a copy of the conceptual video done based on my screenplay. This was news to me. Lo and behold, guess who was in the leading role? If you guessed Molly, you get a cookie. The entire storyline had been completely changed. In the credits she was listed as the writer. My name was nowhere to be found.
Her excuse for why I was not in any way involved with the shoot for the promotional video? There was ‘no time’ to get me involved. My name being mistakenly absent from the credits? A clerical error she promised to have fixed (it never was). I brought up that, Don, had been flown in from across the country to be the still photographer, yet I, who lived less than 60 miles away from the filming location, was left out of the loop. She ignored my question and blew me off.
It felt like my soul had been crushed. My labor of love, my first screenplay had been absconded with by this...no-talent, phony! I was caught between tears and rage for a while. It was around the same time I decided to enact my revenge, that I received a panicked phone call from Molly. She had a habit of calling at the most inopportune times. I could have been on a date, sleeping, working, etc. This instance was no exception. After both my landline and cell phone rang multiple times, I finally picked up the landline from which I gave her an aggravated greeting.
The following conversation is mostly from memory and paraphrased as it was a long time ago:
Me [annoyed]: “What do you want?”
Molly: “No time (insert emotional rant as she beat around the bush in an attempt to justify her despicable, entitled behavior all the while maintaining she was just an innocent bystander yet acting guilty as sin).”
Me: “Who did you piss off this time?”
Silence.
Me: “You overstepped your bounds again.”
More silence.
It turns out Molly had tried to play the big boss and no one was having it. She copped an attitude with “Tom,” the producer, stating ‘her orders were the director's orders.’ Her power-play backfired when Tom called Jim to confirm. Jim saw red and had effectively went on strike with Tom following suit. Between Tom and Jim, they had a combined 60 years experience in the business whereas Molly had virtually none. I later learned, Lana apologized profusely for bringing Molly into the fold and had reluctantly played mediator between her two friends. She tried, in vain, to prevent Tom and Jim from quitting, but they had made up their minds. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Molly. The ultimatum was brought down: either Molly went or they went. Them leaving would have created a domino effect and led to the production being halted. That is why Molly was flipping out, not because she was about to be outed as the cause of the whole mess. By this point, I knew her too well and saw right through her drama queen antics.
Me: “What right did you think you had to do that, Molly? Keep in mind, I know more than you think I do. If you lie, I will know. ”
After a long pause she shakily answered.
Molly: “Because I'm the cowriter.”
Me: “No, you're not. I'm so sick of you saying that. It's not only untrue, it's fraud.”
Molly: “But I made changes to it.”
Me: “Unauthorized changes. You just admitted to plagiarism and copyright infringement. Can you bring forth documented proof that you were given permission from me to rewrite my entire script? You can't. What you did was highly unethical and illegal.”
Molly: “But...”
Me [raised voice]: “I'm speaking! You're listening. I'm not gonna keep going in circles with you on this. If I have to scan my copyright certificate and put it on the net for everyone to see, I will.
Dead silence. I turned my printescanner on and scanned a blank document. It had the desired effect as she totally freaked out when she heard it. She was caught in her tangled web of deception and her brain was short circuiting as she kept trying to come up with convincing lies.
Me: “You did know my work was copyright protected, didn't you? If you did and I know you did, that doesn't just make you a criminal, it makes you a stupid criminal. You knowingly committed willful copyright infringement. I have a lawyer on retainer and the means to pursue a lawsuit. Believe me, when I tell you, I have more than enough solid evidence to prove my case if I choose to sue you.”
Molly: “Don't do that!”
Me [patronizing]: “You're right. I'm not gonna waste my time dragging you into court when the court of public opinion is so much more effective.”
Molly [stunned]: “What?”
Me: “I have a file ten inches thick: screenshots, text messages, e-mails, all detailing the subterfuge and dubious tactics you employed to try to screw me out of my creative property. I also have the plagiarized hard copies containing your distinctive moniker on the title page in place of my name. All have time stamps. Add all that to my original hard copy of my script and my copyright certificate? I swear, I'll crucify you. All people have to do is Google your name and they see you're full of it. Being a wannabe is one thing, but you'll never be able to shake the reputation of being labeled a liar and a thief. If this gets out, you'll be unemployable. It's not like people are beating down your door with job offers. Stick a fork in you. You're done.”
Dead silence.
Me: “What? No retort? No spin doctor explanation? Go on. Lie. It's what you do best. Of course, you could always shock the hell out of me and give the truth a whirl.”
Molly [meekly]: “I'm sorry.”
Me: “Why? Because you're wrong, because you're caught or because now everyone knows you for the scam artist that you are? Maybe all of the above. Either way, it's absolutely clear you have nothing even remotely resembling a conscience. Your pride and ego are too big to leave room for one.”
Molly: “I'm really am sorry.”
Me: “Ooh. Not yet, but you will be.”
Molly [horrified]: “What are you gonna do?”
Me: “‘What am I gonna do?’ What am I gonna do? Hmm. Well, for starters I'm going to use the ‘F’ word. Fired. You're fired.”
Molly: “You can't fire me! I...”
Me: “I'm speaking! I can do whatever I want. I own the copyright to (script name). I'll say it again in case you weren't listening. I own the rights to (script name).”
Molly: “I know.”
Me [yelling]: “Then why did you do it?! Did you honestly think you’d get away with trying to usurp my work and turn it in to your own little vanity project?“
Silence.
Me: “You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Now, starting now, your name is off of this project. That's my call. The writing credit you think you deserve because you plagiarized my script? Gone. The leading role that you retooled to fit someone of your age and appearance? Gone. The producing credit you demanded you receive for illegally rewriting my script? Gone.”
Molly [fake crying]: “Why do you hate me?”
Me: “Spare me the crocodile tears. If you put the energy you wasted conning people in to actually going out on and booking auditions, you’d be a working actress right now. Instead, you're a nobody that no one wants to work with, let alone be around. You're just a bored housewife chasing a pipe dream. Make no mistake. I'm not calling you a has-been. You're a never-was.”
Silence.
Me: “Seriously, how many people, have to go no-contact with you before you realize that you're the problem? Even your own daughter doesn't talk to you because you're a vile b---h and you can expect your son to do the same when he goes off to college. You're a compete failure as a professional, a horrible excuse for a human being and not worth any more of my time.”
Molly [no longer fake crying, pleading]: “You don't have to talk to me like that. I can change. I promise I can change.”
Me: “Cut the bullsh--! Save your empty promises for someone who cares, because I have no more f--ks left to give. You better hope Lana can do some fancy footwork and prevent Tom and Jim from quitting. I won't blame them if they do. They're professionals. They don't need to put up with this crap. You also seem to have forgotten, the entire cast and crew was recruited at their invitation. Once they abandon ship, word will spread like wildfire and everyone will mutiny. With them gone, I guarantee you everyone will walk off the set. If this whole thing ends up dead in the water, you can bet your butt, I'll make damn sure to point the finger at you as the reason why. If that happens, I swear on my father's grave, in every way that it matters I'll be done with you. Do you understand?”
Silence.
Me [shouting]: “Do you understand?!”
Molly: “Yes.”
Me: “You see, Molly, I haven't trusted you for quite some time. Now I just don't like you. Get a life. One that doesn't involve me.”
When I ended the call, I was raging hot. The entire conversation was cathartic and liberating. Unlike Molly, I keep promises. I sent all of my documented evidence to Don who then forwarded it to Jim, Tom and the other producers. One by one, all of them publicly quit. They made detailed posts on their Facebook pages. Molly wasn't called out by name specifically, but anyone remotely connected to the production knew the identity of the ‘unprofessional individual’ they alluded to.
The production ultimately ended up being canceled. It eventually came out that I was the only writer and the script presented to them was plagiarized by none other than Molly herself. Those who were unaware of the behind the scenes drama, started blowing up her social media demanding an explanation. Molly, who always had something to say and craved attention, had finally gotten her wish granted by karma. All eyes were on her, just not in the flattering way she wanted. It should come as no surprise, Molly offered up no satisfactory answers to any questions asked and took no responsibility for her monumental screw up. Unable to take the heat, she, in a demonstration of her trademark cowardice, tucked her tail between her legs and went off the grid. Even though, by then everyone knew of her dirty deeds, Molly never did admit she was the reason why everything went to hell in a handbasket. Shocker.
For several months after that, Molly left me alone. Considering she used to stalk me online, I find it amusing she didn't notice when I blocked her on all my social media. I changed cellphone providers shortly thereafter. I also made certain that she never got my new number. I kind of wish I could have seen the epic tantrum she, no doubt, threw when she realized I had gone no-contact with her.
About a month after purging the leech of a fake b---h, known as Molly, out of my life, I got a call on my landline from an unfamiliar number with an out of state area code. I didn't answer but, “Andrea,“ my roommate listened to the voicemail. It was Molly calling to inform me that Jim, the director, had passed away due to a heart attack. I didn't listen to the message. Andrea gave me the gist. Molly sounded panicked and, in her typical entitled fashion, turned the tragedy into a story about herself:
Molly: “Great. Now the movie's never going to get made.”
What a cold-hearted b---h. I was speechless. We were both stunned. Forget the fact that Jim's wife was now a widow or that his children were now fatherless or that his grandchildren would never know their grandfather. Her ego being stroked as a Grade B-movie actress was more important. Andrea deleted the message and I headed to work. Being that I was unable to block her number on the landline, Molly later made another attempt to get my attention with her histrionics. I was still at work when Andrea intercepted the call. A little fact about my roommate: she is a German-Jew native New Yorker with a very big mouth. She takes absolutely no crap and makes Judge Judy Sheindlin seem like a cream puff by comparison. You can just imagine how that entire call went.
Here's a snippet:
Andrea: “Molly, the man died. Does that mean anything to you, you selfish c--t?”
Upon being told off, Molly quickly tried to end the conversation but not before leaving a message to have me call her back. Andrea told Molly that I blocked her on everything for reasons that were already well-known to her and to ‘f--k off.’ Molly was in tears when she hung up. Needless to say, I never did return her call. When Andrea spilled the tea, of how she kicked Molly when she was down, I hugged her and bought her a bottle of her favorite sangria as a thank you.
It's been over six years. I haven't heard from Molly since and don't care to ever again. I'm finally starting to achieve my dreams. I recently produced and had a small role in my first short film for which I wrote the script. It was such a fulfilling and rewarding experience. The whole shoot was so overwhelming in a good way. Being a big softie, I did cry on set. I'm finally doing what I know I was born to do. In case you're wondering, yes. I still plan to produce my murder mystery without any involvement from Molly.
EDIT: For those of you who have been asking, I have since met a very talented director, who is as big of a movie geek as me, and is the complete antithesis to Molly. I don't leave a single exchange with him without feeling educated or inspired. He's a wonderful guy and he loves my murder mystery. Currently, there are plans to get it into development as soon as the coronavirus craziness dies down.
TL: DR: Narcissistic, wannabe “actress” tries to steal my script from me and produce it as her own little vanity project. I kept a detailed record of all her illegal, libelous, malicious deeds and turned everyone against her.
submitted by horrorflickguy to writers [link] [comments]

I'mma head out

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submitted by TastyUdders to OneWordBan [link] [comments]

Steal my work and trash talk me? You just turned a friend in to an enemy

TL: DR at bottom
Hi everyone. I tried posting this directly in the prorevenge subreddit but it was removed by the automods for not fitting there. You be the judge.
I first wrote about this person here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/cjijj8/vile_former_friend_wont_allow_me_to_grieve_the/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
and here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/g01lc5/vile_former_friend_expects_me_to_make_he?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share.
If you would like to have better context on what a horrible person she is, I suggest you read either of those posts. Both are identical. I cross-posted the original story with a recent update so it wouldn't be buried in an old locked post.
In my linked post I refered to this feckless waste of oxygen as “Karen,” but I think “Molly” is a more appropriate pseudonym as its meaning is: unfortunate or ill-fated. If you choose to read this in its entirety, you will see that it makes perfect sense.
About this story: all names contained herein are fictitious hence the quotation marks around them.
Our cast includes:
Me: Writer, quirky creative movie geek
Molly: Thieving, entitled wannabe “actress” who is as talented as she is honest
Judy: My now-retired former mentor
Don: My graphic web designer friend and still photographer
Tom: Film producer
Jim: Film director
Lana: Actress, Tom and Jim's friend
Andrea: My caustic, yet lovable roommate.
Onto the story.
I was once a young, naive and perhaps a little too trusting aspiring writer. I met “Molly,” mid-forties, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian (relevant to the story), through, “Judy,” my mentor, when I was trying to get my first screenplay, a murder mystery, produced into a feature film. Being green, I had never worked in the business before and I trusted Judy implicitly. She was gold, a wonderful person and, as it would turn out, the polar opposite of Molly.
By the time I met Molly, a spoiled toddler trapped in a 40-something woman's body and self-proclaimed ‘20-year theatre veteran,’ my work had been copyrighted for six months (PSA: it's imperative to protect your creative property and me doing just that saved my butt). Judy had previously worked with Molly on a prior film and suggested her for a dayplayer role in my murder mystery. For those who don't know, a dayplayer is an actor with approximately half a dozen lines and can usually film their part in a day or less. I trusted Judy's judgment so I messaged Molly and sent her the entire script. My first mistake. PSA: Never send your entire script, only script sides (sample dialogue), and a bio/description of the character. You'll save yourself a lot of headaches, both physical and legal.
I ended up having several conversations with Molly. She seemed quite lovely. I will give her that she definitely had her phone etiquette down pat. Little did I know, she was just getting me to lower my walls before she went in for the kill. Molly had accepted the role in the tentative production and we talked virtually daily after that. She was quickly becoming one of my go-to confidants. My second mistake. As Molly and I grew closer, Judy and I grew further apart.
One day, Molly wrote and asked me if I needed my script proofread. I told her there was no such need for that as it was already copyright protected including any errors that might be present. This becomes relevant later. She practically begged me and claimed she ‘just wanted to help.’ I told her, if she took it upon herself to do that, she would not be paid as there was no money and her efforts were pointless. Her behavior struck me as odd. How this seemingly, strong and confident woman had bizarrely behaved like a child, begging her daddy for candy, didn't make any sense.
About a week had passed, Judy wrote me and asked if I was able to speak on the phone. I told her I was available and she called me. She greeted me and promptly got to the point. She inquired why Molly was now claiming she was the cowriter of my script. I was floored. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. I thanked her, ended the call and immediately phoned Molly. Being continually unemployed, all Molly did was chain-smoke in her bathrobe and surf the net all day while her saintly husband worked a hard-labor job. She answered on the first ring. I asked if she knew anything about what Judy had told me. She paused before answering then tried to pass it off as ‘a misunderstanding.’ I decided to play my hand and bluff that other people had told me the same thing. Busted, she caved.
Molly: “Well, I did help you correct everything.”
Me: “Volunteering to copyedit my script does not make you the cowriter. You did a poor job, by the way. My work was already copyright protected in my name six months before I met you. This constitutes plagiarism.”
Molly: “No, it doesn't!“ She paused then, “What's plagiarism?”
I was dumbfounded. The fact that she denied being guilty of something without knowing the meaning of the word was perplexing.
Me: “Look it up. Delete your copy of the script right now. You will only get a new one when and if I choose to cast you.”
By the time I ended the call, it was obvious she was angry. Her pride had been wounded and I should have anticipated her retaliation. Again, hindsight.
The next time I was over at her house, I went on her computer when she wasn't looking. On a hunch, I checked her hard drive and there it was: my script. I deleted it. She later finagled a new copy from a well-meaning cast member and repeated the whole illegal rewrite. It was then that I found out, she was not only claiming to have written the entire script herself, but was also going to have the leading role. Both counts were easily debunked as:
  1. I had the copyright certificate to prove I was the sole writer
  2. The female lead is a 23-year-old woman of Puerto Rican descent (Molly is white, blonde-haired, blue eyed and, at the time, was in her mid-forties)
  3. Molly’s writing was absolutely terrible bordering on indecipherable.
The fact that she was insisting she’d written anything, other than a bad check or a grocery list, was laughable. Despite her claim of having a four-year college degree, she made countless careless, lazy mistakes, that to a casual observer, would suggest she dropped out while in elementary school.
Examples include everything ranging from: run-on sentences consisting of only lowercase letters, failure to capitalize proper nouns, using ‘and’ in the same sentence more than once, using commas as end punctuation, misspelling simple grade school-level words, mixing up her homonyms, using clumps of periods to break up her sentences, etc. All of which completely contradicted her claim that she had written a 100 plus page pristine screenplay. In addition to a highly-embellished typo-filled résumé, she tried passing off an overly filtered camera phone photo as a headshot and had no material for an acting demo reel. Anyone with ‘20 years in the business’ would have had all of these things and more. It should go without saying: if you can't prove something, do not put it on your résumé.
Thanks to the efforts of “Lana,” Molly had gotten into the good graces of, “Jim,” the noted award-winning director. Lana was the big-hearted other lead actress and his close friend. Molly had spun one of her infamous tales of woe i.e. poor me, my life sucks which led Lana to stick up and vouch for her. Molly's entitlement and complete lack of professionalism was duly noted by Jim. Despite her questionable spotty résumé, he only tolerated her for two reasons: she was the ‘writer’ and he felt professionally obligated to as a favor to Lana. I later came to learn, Jim was just biding his time until Molly either shaped up or until she failed her audition and he shipped her out. The role Molly wanted required a very strong actress which she was not. Failing her inevitable screen test, would have given Jim the grounds to have her replaced and, more accurately, fired. This wasn't his first rodeo.
In the meantime, Jim knew Lana could keep Molly in line. I don't fault Lana at all for buying into Molly's tall-tales, as she excelled at emotional manipulation and tugged at people's heart-strings to get her way. This, however, was the beginning of the end. Molly immediately threw her weight around like she was, in her words, ‘the second coming of Meryl Streep’ and ‘being the writer’ demanded a producer credit as well. Her narcissism had reached new heights. Think Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and you'll get the idea. Unfortunately, for her, Jim was quickly losing his patience.
Upon learning that Molly was now claiming she wrote the entire script, I sought out Judy for advice. Regrettably, Judy hated conflict and had long-since grown tired of playing referee between me and Molly. She dropped out of the production. I was left to fend for myself. Retrospectively, I realize her exit caused me to have to put on my big boy pants and confront my dilemma. On one hand, I was this close to spear-heading my first feature film. I wasn't a greedy person. All I wanted was my writing credit and a walk-on role in it. On the other hand, the working script bore little to no resemblance to my original source material. It had practically been taken over by a talentless wannabe ‘produceactress’ whose stiff acting would have looked out of place in an adult film. It was clear, the costs of being associated with Molly far outweighed the next-to-nonexistent benefits. I was on the fence, but knew what I had to do. I was backed in to a corner and was about to break out my secret weapon: my copyright certificate.
It would later turn out, Judy was the first of several people to leave referring to Molly as ‘unprofessional,’ ‘a crazy b---h,’ ‘an amateur,’ ‘a pain in the butt’ and everything in between. I had heard whispers, but I wouldn't become aware of much of the internal conflict, with her as the cause, until after the fact. Molly, of course, always had an answer for everything, including why people kept dropping out i.e. schedule conflicts, production delays, etc. It all seemed feasible, because these things do happen in the film world. Then, one day, I got a message from, “Don,” the California-based graphic web designer, with a copy of the conceptual video done based on my screenplay. This was news to me. Lo and behold, guess who was in the leading role? If you guessed Molly, you get a cookie. The entire storyline had been completely changed. In the credits she was listed as the writer. My name was nowhere to be found.
Her excuse for why I was not in any way involved with the shoot for the promotional video? There was ‘no time’ to get me involved. My name being mistakenly absent from the credits? A clerical error she promised to have fixed (it never was). I brought up that, Don, had been flown in from across the country to be the still photographer, yet I, who lived less than 60 miles away from the filming location, was left out of the loop. She ignored my question and blew me off.
It felt like my soul had been crushed. My labor of love, my first screenplay had been absconded with by this...no-talent, phony! I was caught between tears and rage for a while. It was around the same time I decided to enact my revenge, that I received a panicked phone call from Molly. She had a habit of calling at the most inopportune times. I could have been on a date, sleeping, working, etc. This instance was no exception. After both my landline and cell phone rang multiple times, I finally picked up the landline from which I gave her an aggravated greeting.
The following conversation is mostly from memory and paraphrased as it was a long time ago:
Me [annoyed]: “What do you want?”
Molly: “No time (insert emotional rant as she beat around the bush in an attempt to justify her despicable, entitled behavior all the while maintaining she was just an innocent bystander yet acting guilty as sin).”
Me: “Who did you piss off this time?”
Silence.
Me: “You overstepped your bounds again.”
More silence.
It turns out Molly had tried to play the big boss and no one was having it. She copped an attitude with “Tom,” the producer, stating ‘her orders were the director's orders.’ Her power-play backfired when Tom called Jim to confirm. Jim saw red and had effectively went on strike with Tom following suit. Between Tom and Jim, they had a combined 60 years experience in the business whereas Molly had virtually none. I later learned, Lana apologized profusely for bringing Molly into the fold and had reluctantly played mediator between her two friends. She tried, in vain, to prevent Tom and Jim from quitting, but they had made up their minds. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Molly. The ultimatum was brought down: either Molly went or they went. Them leaving would have created a domino effect and led to the production being halted. That is why Molly was flipping out, not because she was about to be outed as the cause of the whole mess. By this point, I knew her too well and saw right through her drama queen antics.
Me: “What right did you think you had to do that, Molly? Keep in mind, I know more than you think I do. If you lie, I will know. ”
After a long pause she shakily answered.
Molly: “Because I'm the cowriter.”
Me: “No, you're not. I'm so sick of you saying that. It's not only untrue, it's fraud.”
Molly: “But I made changes to it.”
Me: “Unauthorized changes. You just admitted to plagiarism and copyright infringement. Can you bring forth documented proof that you were given permission from me to rewrite my entire script? You can't. What you did was highly unethical and illegal.”
Molly: “But...”
Me [raised voice]: “I'm speaking! You're listening. I'm not gonna keep going in circles with you on this. If I have to scan my copyright certificate and put it on the net for everyone to see, I will.
Dead silence. I turned my printescanner on and scanned a blank document. It had the desired effect as she totally freaked out when she heard it. She was caught in her tangled web of deception and her brain was short circuiting as she kept trying to come up with convincing lies.
Me: “You did know my work was copyright protected, didn't you? If you did and I know you did, that doesn't just make you a criminal, it makes you a stupid criminal. You knowingly committed willful copyright infringement. I have a lawyer on retainer and the means to pursue a lawsuit. Believe me, when I tell you, I have more than enough solid evidence to prove my case if I choose to sue you.”
Molly: “Don't do that!”
Me [patronizing]: “You're right. I'm not gonna waste my time dragging you into court when the court of public opinion is so much more effective.”
Molly [stunned]: “What?”
Me: “I have a file ten inches thick: screenshots, text messages, e-mails, all detailing the subterfuge and dubious tactics you employed to try to screw me out of my creative property. I also have the plagiarized hard copies containing your distinctive moniker on the title page in place of my name. All have time stamps. Add all that to my original hard copy of my script and my copyright certificate? I swear, I'll crucify you. All people have to do is Google your name and they see you're full of it. Being a wannabe is one thing, but you'll never be able to shake the reputation of being labeled a liar and a thief. If this gets out, you'll be unemployable. It's not like people are beating down your door with job offers. Stick a fork in you. You're done.”
Dead silence.
Me: “What? No retort? No spin doctor explanation? Go on. Lie. It's what you do best. Of course, you could always shock the hell out of me and give the truth a whirl.”
Molly [meekly]: “I'm sorry.”
Me: “Why? Because you're wrong, because you're caught or because now everyone knows you for the scam artist that you are? Maybe all of the above. Either way, it's absolutely clear you have nothing even remotely resembling a conscience. Your pride and ego are too big to leave room for one.”
Molly: “I'm really am sorry.”
Me: “Ooh. Not yet, but you will be.”
Molly [horrified]: “What are you gonna do?”
Me: “‘What am I gonna do?’ What am I gonna do? Hmm. Well, for starters I'm going to use the ‘F’ word. Fired. You're fired.”
Molly: “You can't fire me! I...”
Me: “I'm speaking! I can do whatever I want. I own the copyright to (script name). I'll say it again in case you weren't listening. I own the rights to (script name).”
Molly: “I know.”
Me [yelling]: “Then why did you do it?! Did you honestly think you’d get away with trying to usurp my work and turn it in to your own little vanity project?“
Silence.
Me: “You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Now, starting now, your name is off of this project. That's my call. The writing credit you think you deserve because you plagiarized my script? Gone. The leading role that you retooled to fit someone of your age and appearance? Gone. The producing credit you demanded you receive for illegally rewriting my script? Gone.”
Molly [fake crying]: “Why do you hate me?”
Me: “Spare me the crocodile tears. If you put the energy you wasted conning people in to actually going out on and booking auditions, you’d be a working actress right now. Instead, you're a nobody that no one wants to work with, let alone be around. You're just a bored housewife chasing a pipe dream. Make no mistake. I'm not calling you a has-been. You're a never-was.”
Silence.
Me: “Seriously, how many people, have to go no-contact with you before you realize that you're the problem? Even your own daughter doesn't talk to you because you're a vile b---h and you can expect your son to do the same when he goes off to college. You're a compete failure as a professional, a horrible excuse for a human being and not worth any more of my time.”
Molly [no longer fake crying, pleading]: “You don't have to talk to me like that. I can change. I promise I can change.”
Me: “Cut the bullsh--! Save your empty promises for someone who cares, because I have no more f--ks left to give. You better hope Lana can do some fancy footwork and prevent Tom and Jim from quitting. I won't blame them if they do. They're professionals. They don't need to put up with this crap. You also seem to have forgotten, the entire cast and crew was recruited at their invitation. Once they abandon ship, word will spread like wildfire and everyone will mutiny. With them gone, I guarantee you everyone will walk off the set. If this whole thing ends up dead in the water, you can bet your butt, I'll make damn sure to point the finger at you as the reason why. If that happens, I swear on my father's grave, in every way that it matters I'll be done with you. Do you understand?”
Silence.
Me [shouting]: “Do you understand?!”
Molly: “Yes.”
Me: “You see, Molly, I haven't trusted you for quite some time. Now I just don't like you. Get a life. One that doesn't involve me.”
When I ended the call, I was raging hot. The entire conversation was cathartic and liberating. Unlike Molly, I keep promises. I sent all of my documented evidence to Don who then forwarded it to Jim, Tom and the other producers. One by one, all of them publicly quit. They made detailed posts on their Facebook pages. Molly wasn't called out by name specifically, but anyone remotely connected to the production knew the identity of the ‘unprofessional individual’ they alluded to.
The production ultimately ended up being canceled. It eventually came out that I was the only writer and the script presented to them was plagiarized by none other than Molly herself. Those who were unaware of the behind the scenes drama, started blowing up her social media demanding an explanation. Molly, who always had something to say and craved attention, had finally gotten her wish granted by karma. All eyes were on her, just not in the flattering way she wanted. It should come as no surprise, Molly offered up no satisfactory answers to any questions asked and took no responsibility for her monumental screw up. Unable to take the heat, she, in a demonstration of her trademark cowardice, tucked her tail between her legs and went off the grid. Even though, by then everyone knew of her dirty deeds, Molly never did admit she was the reason why everything went to hell in a handbasket. Shocker.
For several months after that, Molly left me alone. Considering she used to stalk me online, I find it amusing she didn't notice when I blocked her on all my social media. I changed cellphone providers shortly thereafter. I also made certain that she never got my new number. I kind of wish I could have seen the epic tantrum she, no doubt, threw when she realized I had gone no-contact with her.
About a month after purging the leech of a fake b---h, known as Molly, out of my life, I got a call on my landline from an unfamiliar number with an out of state area code. I didn't answer but, “Andrea,“ my roommate listened to the voicemail. It was Molly calling to inform me that Jim, the director, had passed away due to a heart attack. I didn't listen to the message. Andrea gave me the gist. Molly sounded panicked and, in her typical entitled fashion, turned the tragedy into a story about herself:
Molly: “Great. Now the movie's never going to get made.”
What a cold-hearted b---h. I was speechless. We were both stunned. Forget the fact that Jim's wife was now a widow or that his children were now fatherless or that his grandchildren would never know their grandfather. Her ego being stroked as a Grade B-movie actress was more important. Andrea deleted the message and I headed to work. Being that I was unable to block her number on the landline, Molly later made another attempt to get my attention with her histrionics. I was still at work when Andrea intercepted the call. A little fact about my roommate: she is a German-Jew native New Yorker with a very big mouth. She takes absolutely no crap and makes Judge Judy Sheindlin seem like a cream puff by comparison. You can just imagine how that entire call went.
Here's a snippet:
Andrea: “Molly, the man died. Does that mean anything to you, you selfish c--t?”
Upon being told off, Molly quickly tried to end the conversation but not before leaving a message to have me call her back. Andrea told Molly that I blocked her on everything for reasons that were already well-known to her and to ‘f--k off.’ Molly was in tears when she hung up. Needless to say, I never did return her call. When Andrea spilled the tea, of how she kicked Molly when she was down, I hugged her and bought her a bottle of her favorite sangria as a thank you.
It's been over six years. I haven't heard from Molly since and don't care to ever again. I'm finally starting to achieve my dreams. I recently produced and had a small role in my first short film for which I wrote the script. It was such a fulfilling and rewarding experience. The whole shoot was so overwhelming in a good way. Being a big softie, I did cry on set. I'm finally doing what I know I was born to do. In case you're wondering, yes. I still plan to produce my murder mystery without any involvement from Molly.
EDIT: For those of you who have been asking, I have since met a very talented director, who is as big of a movie geek as me, and is the complete antithesis to Molly. I don't leave a single exchange with him without feeling educated or inspired. He's a wonderful guy and he loves my murder mystery. Currently, there are plans to get it into development as soon as the coronavirus craziness dies down.
TL: DR: Narcissistic, wannabe “actress” tries to steal my script from me and produce it as her own little vanity project. I kept a detailed record of all her illegal, libelous, malicious deeds and turned everyone against her.
submitted by horrorflickguy to EntitledBitch [link] [comments]

Steal my work and trash talk me?

TL: DR at bottom
Hi everyone. I tried posting this directly in the prorevenge subreddit but it was removed by the automods for not fitting there. You be the judge.
I first wrote about this person here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/cjijj8/vile_former_friend_wont_allow_me_to_grieve_the/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
and here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/g01lc5/vile_former_friend_expects_me_to_make_he?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share.
If you would like to have better context on what a horrible person she is, I suggest you read either of those posts. Both are identical. I cross-posted the original story with a recent update so it wouldn't be buried in an old locked post.
In my linked post I refered to this feckless waste of oxygen as “Karen,” but I think “Molly” is a more appropriate pseudonym as its meaning is: unfortunate or ill-fated. If you choose to read this in its entirety, you will see that it makes perfect sense.
About this story: all names contained herein are fictitious hence the quotation marks around them.
Our cast includes:
Me: Writer, quirky creative movie geek
Molly: Thieving, entitled wannabe “actress” who is as talented as she is honest
Judy: My now-retired former mentor
Don: My graphic web designer friend and still photographer
Tom: Film producer
Jim: Film director
Lana: Actress, Tom and Jim's friend
Andrea: My caustic, yet lovable roommate.
Onto the story.
I was once a young, naive and perhaps a little too trusting aspiring writer. I met “Molly,” mid-forties, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian (relevant to the story), through, “Judy,” my mentor, when I was trying to get my first screenplay, a murder mystery, produced into a feature film. Being green, I had never worked in the business before and I trusted Judy implicitly. She was gold, a wonderful person and, as it would turn out, the polar opposite of Molly.
By the time I met Molly, a spoiled toddler trapped in a 40-something woman's body and self-proclaimed ‘20-year theatre veteran,’ my work had been copyrighted for six months (PSA: it's imperative to protect your creative property and me doing just that saved my butt). Judy had previously worked with Molly on a prior film and suggested her for a dayplayer role in my murder mystery. For those who don't know, a dayplayer is an actor with approximately half a dozen lines and can usually film their part in a day or less. I trusted Judy's judgment so I messaged Molly and sent her the entire script. My first mistake. PSA: Never send your entire script, only script sides (sample dialogue), and a bio/description of the character. You'll save yourself a lot of headaches, both physical and legal.
I ended up having several conversations with Molly. She seemed quite lovely. I will give her that she definitely had her phone etiquette down pat. Little did I know, she was just getting me to lower my walls before she went in for the kill. Molly had accepted the role in the tentative production and we talked virtually daily after that. She was quickly becoming one of my go-to confidants. My second mistake. As Molly and I grew closer, Judy and I grew further apart.
One day, Molly wrote and asked me if I needed my script proofread. I told her there was no such need for that as it was already copyright protected including any errors that might be present. This becomes relevant later. She practically begged me and claimed she ‘just wanted to help.’ I told her, if she took it upon herself to do that, she would not be paid as there was no money and her efforts were pointless. Her behavior struck me as odd. How this seemingly, strong and confident woman had bizarrely behaved like a child, begging her daddy for candy, didn't make any sense.
About a week had passed, Judy wrote me and asked if I was able to speak on the phone. I told her I was available and she called me. She greeted me and promptly got to the point. She inquired why Molly was now claiming she was the cowriter of my script. I was floored. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. I thanked her, ended the call and immediately phoned Molly. Being continually unemployed, all Molly did was chain-smoke in her bathrobe and surf the net all day while her saintly husband worked a hard-labor job. She answered on the first ring. I asked if she knew anything about what Judy had told me. She paused before answering then tried to pass it off as ‘a misunderstanding.’ I decided to play my hand and bluff that other people had told me the same thing. Busted, she caved.
Molly: “Well, I did help you correct everything.”
Me: “Volunteering to copyedit my script does not make you the cowriter. You did a poor job, by the way. My work was already copyright protected in my name six months before I met you. This constitutes plagiarism.”
Molly: “No, it doesn't!“ She paused then, “What's plagiarism?”
I was dumbfounded. The fact that she denied being guilty of something without knowing the meaning of the word was perplexing.
Me: “Look it up. Delete your copy of the script right now. You will only get a new one when and if I choose to cast you.”
By the time I ended the call, it was obvious she was angry. Her pride had been wounded and I should have anticipated her retaliation. Again, hindsight.
The next time I was over at her house, I went on her computer when she wasn't looking. On a hunch, I checked her hard drive and there it was: my script. I deleted it. She later finagled a new copy from a well-meaning cast member and repeated the whole illegal rewrite. It was then that I found out, she was not only claiming to have written the entire script herself, but was also going to have the leading role. Both counts were easily debunked as:
  1. I had the copyright certificate to prove I was the sole writer
  2. The female lead is a 23-year-old woman of Puerto Rican descent (Molly is white, blonde-haired, blue eyed and, at the time, was in her mid-forties)
  3. Molly’s writing was absolutely terrible bordering on indecipherable.
The fact that she was insisting she’d written anything, other than a bad check or a grocery list, was laughable. Despite her claim of having a four-year college degree, she made countless careless, lazy mistakes, that to a casual observer, would suggest she dropped out while in elementary school.
Examples include everything ranging from: run-on sentences consisting of only lowercase letters, failure to capitalize proper nouns, using ‘and’ in the same sentence more than once, using commas as end punctuation, misspelling simple grade school-level words, mixing up her homonyms, using clumps of periods to break up her sentences, etc. All of which completely contradicted her claim that she had written a 100 plus page pristine screenplay. In addition to a highly-embellished typo-filled résumé, she tried passing off an overly filtered camera phone photo as a headshot and had no material for an acting demo reel. Anyone with ‘20 years in the business’ would have had all of these things and more. It should go without saying: if you can't prove something, do not put it on your résumé.
Thanks to the efforts of “Lana,” Molly had gotten into the good graces of, “Jim,” the noted award-winning director. Lana was the big-hearted other lead actress and his close friend. Molly had spun one of her infamous tales of woe i.e. poor me, my life sucks which led Lana to stick up and vouch for her. Molly's entitlement and complete lack of professionalism was duly noted by Jim. Despite her questionable spotty résumé, he only tolerated her for two reasons: she was the ‘writer’ and he felt professionally obligated to as a favor to Lana. I later came to learn, Jim was just biding his time until Molly either shaped up or until she failed her audition and he shipped her out. The role Molly wanted required a very strong actress which she was not. Failing her inevitable screen test, would have given Jim the grounds to have her replaced and, more accurately, fired. This wasn't his first rodeo.
In the meantime, Jim knew Lana could keep Molly in line. I don't fault Lana at all for buying into Molly's tall-tales, as she excelled at emotional manipulation and tugged at people's heart-strings to get her way. This, however, was the beginning of the end. Molly immediately threw her weight around like she was, in her words, ‘the second coming of Meryl Streep’ and ‘being the writer’ demanded a producer credit as well. Her narcissism had reached new heights. Think Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and you'll get the idea. Unfortunately, for her, Jim was quickly losing his patience.
Upon learning that Molly was now claiming she wrote the entire script, I sought out Judy for advice. Regrettably, Judy hated conflict and had long-since grown tired of playing referee between me and Molly. She dropped out of the production. I was left to fend for myself. Retrospectively, I realize her exit caused me to have to put on my big boy pants and confront my dilemma. On one hand, I was this close to spear-heading my first feature film. I wasn't a greedy person. All I wanted was my writing credit and a walk-on role in it. On the other hand, the working script bore little to no resemblance to my original source material. It had practically been taken over by a talentless wannabe ‘produceactress’ whose stiff acting would have looked out of place in an adult film. It was clear, the costs of being associated with Molly far outweighed the next-to-nonexistent benefits. I was on the fence, but knew what I had to do. I was backed in to a corner and was about to break out my secret weapon: my copyright certificate.
It would later turn out, Judy was the first of several people to leave referring to Molly as ‘unprofessional,’ ‘a crazy b---h,’ ‘an amateur,’ ‘a pain in the butt’ and everything in between. I had heard whispers, but I wouldn't become aware of much of the internal conflict, with her as the cause, until after the fact. Molly, of course, always had an answer for everything, including why people kept dropping out i.e. schedule conflicts, production delays, etc. It all seemed feasible, because these things do happen in the film world. Then, one day, I got a message from, “Don,” the California-based graphic web designer, with a copy of the conceptual video done based on my screenplay. This was news to me. Lo and behold, guess who was in the leading role? If you guessed Molly, you get a cookie. The entire storyline had been completely changed. In the credits she was listed as the writer. My name was nowhere to be found.
Her excuse for why I was not in any way involved with the shoot for the promotional video? There was ‘no time’ to get me involved. My name being mistakenly absent from the credits? A clerical error she promised to have fixed (it never was). I brought up that, Don, had been flown in from across the country to be the still photographer, yet I, who lived less than 60 miles away from the filming location, was left out of the loop. She ignored my question and blew me off.
It felt like my soul had been crushed. My labor of love, my first screenplay had been absconded with by this...no-talent, phony! I was caught between tears and rage for a while. It was around the same time I decided to enact my revenge, that I received a panicked phone call from Molly. She had a habit of calling at the most inopportune times. I could have been on a date, sleeping, working, etc. This instance was no exception. After both my landline and cell phone rang multiple times, I finally picked up the landline from which I gave her an aggravated greeting.
The following conversation is mostly from memory and paraphrased as it was a long time ago:
Me [annoyed]: “What do you want?”
Molly: “No time (insert emotional rant as she beat around the bush in an attempt to justify her despicable, entitled behavior all the while maintaining she was just an innocent bystander yet acting guilty as sin).”
Me: “Who did you piss off this time?”
Silence.
Me: “You overstepped your bounds again.”
More silence.
It turns out Molly had tried to play the big boss and no one was having it. She copped an attitude with “Tom,” the producer, stating ‘her orders were the director's orders.’ Her power-play backfired when Tom called Jim to confirm. Jim saw red and had effectively went on strike with Tom following suit. Between Tom and Jim, they had a combined 60 years experience in the business whereas Molly had virtually none. I later learned, Lana apologized profusely for bringing Molly into the fold and had reluctantly played mediator between her two friends. She tried, in vain, to prevent Tom and Jim from quitting, but they had made up their minds. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Molly. The ultimatum was brought down: either Molly went or they went. Them leaving would have created a domino effect and led to the production being halted. That is why Molly was flipping out, not because she was about to be outed as the cause of the whole mess. By this point, I knew her too well and saw right through her drama queen antics.
Me: “What right did you think you had to do that, Molly? Keep in mind, I know more than you think I do. If you lie, I will know. ”
After a long pause she shakily answered.
Molly: “Because I'm the cowriter.”
Me: “No, you're not. I'm so sick of you saying that. It's not only untrue, it's fraud.”
Molly: “But I made changes to it.”
Me: “Unauthorized changes. You just admitted to plagiarism and copyright infringement. Can you bring forth documented proof that you were given permission from me to rewrite my entire script? You can't. What you did was highly unethical and illegal.”
Molly: “But...”
Me [raised voice]: “I'm speaking! You're listening. I'm not gonna keep going in circles with you on this. If I have to scan my copyright certificate and put it on the net for everyone to see, I will.
Dead silence. I turned my printescanner on and scanned a blank document. It had the desired effect as she totally freaked out when she heard it. She was caught in her tangled web of deception and her brain was short circuiting as she kept trying to come up with convincing lies.
Me: “You did know my work was copyright protected, didn't you? If you did and I know you did, that doesn't just make you a criminal, it makes you a stupid criminal. You knowingly committed willful copyright infringement. I have a lawyer on retainer and the means to pursue a lawsuit. Believe me, when I tell you, I have more than enough solid evidence to prove my case if I choose to sue you.”
Molly: “Don't do that!”
Me [patronizing]: “You're right. I'm not gonna waste my time dragging you into court when the court of public opinion is so much more effective.”
Molly [stunned]: “What?”
Me: “I have a file ten inches thick: screenshots, text messages, e-mails, all detailing the subterfuge and dubious tactics you employed to try to screw me out of my creative property. I also have the plagiarized hard copies containing your distinctive moniker on the title page in place of my name. All have time stamps. Add all that to my original hard copy of my script and my copyright certificate? I swear, I'll crucify you. All people have to do is Google your name and they see you're full of it. Being a wannabe is one thing, but you'll never be able to shake the reputation of being labeled a liar and a thief. If this gets out, you'll be unemployable. It's not like people are beating down your door with job offers. Stick a fork in you. You're done.”
Dead silence.
Me: “What? No retort? No spin doctor explanation? Go on. Lie. It's what you do best. Of course, you could always shock the hell out of me and give the truth a whirl.”
Molly [meekly]: “I'm sorry.”
Me: “Why? Because you're wrong, because you're caught or because now everyone knows you for the scam artist that you are? Maybe all of the above. Either way, it's absolutely clear you have nothing even remotely resembling a conscience. Your pride and ego are too big to leave room for one.”
Molly: “I'm really am sorry.”
Me: “Ooh. Not yet, but you will be.”
Molly [horrified]: “What are you gonna do?”
Me: “‘What am I gonna do?’ What am I gonna do? Hmm. Well, for starters I'm going to use the ‘F’ word. Fired. You're fired.”
Molly: “You can't fire me! I...”
Me: “I'm speaking! I can do whatever I want. I own the copyright to (script name). I'll say it again in case you weren't listening. I own the rights to (script name).”
Molly: “I know.”
Me [yelling]: “Then why did you do it?! Did you honestly think you’d get away with trying to usurp my work and turn it in to your own little vanity project?“
Silence.
Me: “You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Now, starting now, your name is off of this project. That's my call. The writing credit you think you deserve because you plagiarized my script? Gone. The leading role that you retooled to fit someone of your age and appearance? Gone. The producing credit you demanded you receive for illegally rewriting my script? Gone.”
Molly [fake crying]: “Why do you hate me?”
Me: “Spare me the crocodile tears. If you put the energy you wasted conning people in to actually going out on and booking auditions, you’d be a working actress right now. Instead, you're a nobody that no one wants to work with, let alone be around. You're just a bored housewife chasing a pipe dream. Make no mistake. I'm not calling you a has-been. You're a never-was.”
Silence.
Me: “Seriously, how many people, have to go no-contact with you before you realize that you're the problem? Even your own daughter doesn't talk to you because you're a vile b---h and you can expect your son to do the same when he goes off to college. You're a compete failure as a professional, a horrible excuse for a human being and not worth any more of my time.”
Molly [no longer fake crying, pleading]: “You don't have to talk to me like that. I can change. I promise I can change.”
Me: “Cut the bullsh--! Save your empty promises for someone who cares, because I have no more f--ks left to give. You better hope Lana can do some fancy footwork and prevent Tom and Jim from quitting. I won't blame them if they do. They're professionals. They don't need to put up with this crap. You also seem to have forgotten, the entire cast and crew was recruited at their invitation. Once they abandon ship, word will spread like wildfire and everyone will mutiny. With them gone, I guarantee you everyone will walk off the set. If this whole thing ends up dead in the water, you can bet your butt, I'll make damn sure to point the finger at you as the reason why. If that happens, I swear on my father's grave, in every way that it matters I'll be done with you. Do you understand?”
Silence.
Me [shouting]: “Do you understand?!”
Molly: “Yes.”
Me: “You see, Molly, I haven't trusted you for quite some time. Now I just don't like you. Get a life. One that doesn't involve me.”
When I ended the call, I was raging hot. The entire conversation was cathartic and liberating. Unlike Molly, I keep promises. I sent all of my documented evidence to Don who then forwarded it to Jim, Tom and the other producers. One by one, all of them publicly quit. They made detailed posts on their Facebook pages. Molly wasn't called out by name specifically, but anyone remotely connected to the production knew the identity of the ‘unprofessional individual’ they alluded to.
The production ultimately ended up being canceled. It eventually came out that I was the only writer and the script presented to them was plagiarized by none other than Molly herself. Those who were unaware of the behind the scenes drama, started blowing up her social media demanding an explanation. Molly, who always had something to say and craved attention, had finally gotten her wish granted by karma. All eyes were on her, just not in the flattering way she wanted. It should come as no surprise, Molly offered up no satisfactory answers to any questions asked and took no responsibility for her monumental screw up. Unable to take the heat, she, in a demonstration of her trademark cowardice, tucked her tail between her legs and went off the grid. Even though, by then everyone knew of her dirty deeds, Molly never did admit she was the reason why everything went to hell in a handbasket. Shocker.
For several months after that, Molly left me alone. Considering she used to stalk me online, I find it amusing she didn't notice when I blocked her on all my social media. I changed cellphone providers shortly thereafter. I also made certain that she never got my new number. I kind of wish I could have seen the epic tantrum she, no doubt, threw when she realized I had gone no-contact with her.
About a month after purging the leech of a fake b---h, known as Molly, out of my life, I got a call on my landline from an unfamiliar number with an out of state area code. I didn't answer but, “Andrea,“ my roommate listened to the voicemail. It was Molly calling to inform me that Jim, the director, had passed away due to a heart attack. I didn't listen to the message. Andrea gave me the gist. Molly sounded panicked and, in her typical entitled fashion, turned the tragedy into a story about herself:
Molly: “Great. Now the movie's never going to get made.”
What a cold-hearted b---h. I was speechless. We were both stunned. Forget the fact that Jim's wife was now a widow or that his children were now fatherless or that his grandchildren would never know their grandfather. Her ego being stroked as a Grade B-movie actress was more important. Andrea deleted the message and I headed to work. Being that I was unable to block her number on the landline, Molly later made another attempt to get my attention with her histrionics. I was still at work when Andrea intercepted the call. A little fact about my roommate: she is a German-Jew native New Yorker with a very big mouth. She takes absolutely no crap and makes Judge Judy Sheindlin seem like a cream puff by comparison. You can just imagine how that entire call went.
Here's a snippet:
Andrea: “Molly, the man died. Does that mean anything to you, you selfish c--t?”
Upon being told off, Molly quickly tried to end the conversation but not before leaving a message to have me call her back. Andrea told Molly that I blocked her on everything for reasons that were already well-known to her and to ‘f--k off.’ Molly was in tears when she hung up. Needless to say, I never did return her call. When Andrea spilled the tea, of how she kicked Molly when she was down, I hugged her and bought her a bottle of her favorite sangria as a thank you.
It's been over six years. I haven't heard from Molly since and don't care to ever again. I'm finally starting to achieve my dreams. I recently produced and had a small role in my first short film for which I wrote the script. It was such a fulfilling and rewarding experience. The whole shoot was so overwhelming in a good way. Being a big softie, I did cry on set. I'm finally doing what I know I was born to do. In case you're wondering, yes. I still plan to produce my murder mystery without any involvement from Molly.
EDIT: For those of you who have been asking, I have since met a very talented director, who is as big of a movie geek as me, and is the complete antithesis to Molly. I don't leave a single exchange with him without feeling educated or inspired. He's a wonderful guy and he loves my murder mystery. Currently, there are plans to get it into development as soon as the coronavirus craziness dies down.
TL: DR: Narcissistic, wannabe “actress” tries to steal my script from me and produce it as her own little vanity project. I kept a detailed record of all her illegal, libelous, malicious deeds and turned everyone against her.
submitted by horrorflickguy to rSlash_YT [link] [comments]

Steal my work and trash talk me? You just opened Pandora's Box

TL: DR at bottom
Hi everyone. I tried posting this directly in the prorevenge subreddit but it was removed by the automods for not fitting there. You be the judge.
I first wrote about this person here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/cjijj8/vile_former_friend_wont_allow_me_to_grieve_the/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share
and here:
https://www.reddit.com/EntitledPeople/comments/g01lc5/vile_former_friend_expects_me_to_make_he?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share.
If you would like to have better context on what a horrible person she is, I suggest you read either of those posts. Both are identical. I cross-posted the original story with a recent update so it wouldn't be buried in an old locked post.
In my linked post I refered to this feckless waste of oxygen as “Karen,” but I think “Molly” is a more appropriate pseudonym as its meaning is: unfortunate or ill-fated. If you choose to read this in its entirety, you will see that it makes perfect sense.
About this story: all names contained herein are fictitious hence the quotation marks around them.
Our cast includes:
Me: Writer, quirky creative movie geek
Molly: Thieving, entitled wannabe “actress” who is as talented as she is honest
Judy: My now-retired former mentor
Don: My graphic web designer friend and still photographer
Tom: Film producer
Jim: Film director
Lana: Actress, Tom and Jim's friend
Andrea: My caustic, yet lovable roommate.
Onto the story.
I was once a young, naive and perhaps a little too trusting aspiring writer. I met “Molly,” mid-forties, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian (relevant to the story), through, “Judy,” my mentor, when I was trying to get my first screenplay, a murder mystery, produced into a feature film. Being green, I had never worked in the business before and I trusted Judy implicitly. She was gold, a wonderful person and, as it would turn out, the polar opposite of Molly.
By the time I met Molly, a spoiled toddler trapped in a 40-something woman's body and self-proclaimed ‘20-year theatre veteran,’ my work had been copyrighted for six months (PSA: it's imperative to protect your creative property and me doing just that saved my butt). Judy had previously worked with Molly on a prior film and suggested her for a dayplayer role in my murder mystery. For those who don't know, a dayplayer is an actor with approximately half a dozen lines and can usually film their part in a day or less. I trusted Judy's judgment so I messaged Molly and sent her the entire script. My first mistake. PSA: Never send your entire script, only script sides (sample dialogue), and a bio/description of the character. You'll save yourself a lot of headaches, both physical and legal.
I ended up having several conversations with Molly. She seemed quite lovely. I will give her that she definitely had her phone etiquette down pat. Little did I know, she was just getting me to lower my walls before she went in for the kill. Molly had accepted the role in the tentative production and we talked virtually daily after that. She was quickly becoming one of my go-to confidants. My second mistake. As Molly and I grew closer, Judy and I grew further apart.
One day, Molly wrote and asked me if I needed my script proofread. I told her there was no such need for that as it was already copyright protected including any errors that might be present. This becomes relevant later. She practically begged me and claimed she ‘just wanted to help.’ I told her, if she took it upon herself to do that, she would not be paid as there was no money and her efforts were pointless. Her behavior struck me as odd. How this seemingly, strong and confident woman had bizarrely behaved like a child, begging her daddy for candy, didn't make any sense.
About a week had passed, Judy wrote me and asked if I was able to speak on the phone. I told her I was available and she called me. She greeted me and promptly got to the point. She inquired why Molly was now claiming she was the cowriter of my script. I was floored. I told her I didn't know what she was talking about. I thanked her, ended the call and immediately phoned Molly. Being continually unemployed, all Molly did was chain-smoke in her bathrobe and surf the net all day while her saintly husband worked a hard-labor job. She answered on the first ring. I asked if she knew anything about what Judy had told me. She paused before answering then tried to pass it off as ‘a misunderstanding.’ I decided to play my hand and bluff that other people had told me the same thing. Busted, she caved.
Molly: “Well, I did help you correct everything.”
Me: “Volunteering to copyedit my script does not make you the cowriter. You did a poor job, by the way. My work was already copyright protected in my name six months before I met you. This constitutes plagiarism.”
Molly: “No, it doesn't!“ She paused then, “What's plagiarism?”
I was dumbfounded. The fact that she denied being guilty of something without knowing the meaning of the word was perplexing.
Me: “Look it up. Delete your copy of the script right now. You will only get a new one when and if I choose to cast you.”
By the time I ended the call, it was obvious she was angry. Her pride had been wounded and I should have anticipated her retaliation. Again, hindsight.
The next time I was over at her house, I went on her computer when she wasn't looking. On a hunch, I checked her hard drive and there it was: my script. I deleted it. She later finagled a new copy from a well-meaning cast member and repeated the whole illegal rewrite. It was then that I found out, she was not only claiming to have written the entire script herself, but was also going to have the leading role. Both counts were easily debunked as:
  1. I had the copyright certificate to prove I was the sole writer
  2. The female lead is a 23-year-old woman of Puerto Rican descent (Molly is white, blonde-haired, blue eyed and, at the time, was in her mid-forties)
  3. Molly’s writing was absolutely terrible bordering on indecipherable.
The fact that she was insisting she’d written anything, other than a bad check or a grocery list, was laughable. Despite her claim of having a four-year college degree, she made countless careless, lazy mistakes, that to a casual observer, would suggest she dropped out while in elementary school.
Examples include everything ranging from: run-on sentences consisting of only lowercase letters, failure to capitalize proper nouns, using ‘and’ in the same sentence more than once, using commas as end punctuation, misspelling simple grade school-level words, mixing up her homonyms, using clumps of periods to break up her sentences, etc. All of which completely contradicted her claim that she had written a 100 plus page pristine screenplay. In addition to a highly-embellished typo-filled résumé, she tried passing off an overly filtered camera phone photo as a headshot and had no material for an acting demo reel. Anyone with ‘20 years in the business’ would have had all of these things and more. It should go without saying: if you can't prove something, do not put it on your résumé.
Thanks to the efforts of “Lana,” Molly had gotten into the good graces of, “Jim,” the noted award-winning director. Lana was the big-hearted other lead actress and his close friend. Molly had spun one of her infamous tales of woe i.e. poor me, my life sucks which led Lana to stick up and vouch for her. Molly's entitlement and complete lack of professionalism was duly noted by Jim. Despite her questionable spotty résumé, he only tolerated her for two reasons: she was the ‘writer’ and he felt professionally obligated to as a favor to Lana. I later came to learn, Jim was just biding his time until Molly either shaped up or until she failed her audition and he shipped her out. The role Molly wanted required a very strong actress which she was not. Failing her inevitable screen test, would have given Jim the grounds to have her replaced and, more accurately, fired. This wasn't his first rodeo.
In the meantime, Jim knew Lana could keep Molly in line. I don't fault Lana at all for buying into Molly's tall-tales, as she excelled at emotional manipulation and tugged at people's heart-strings to get her way. This, however, was the beginning of the end. Molly immediately threw her weight around like she was, in her words, ‘the second coming of Meryl Streep’ and ‘being the writer’ demanded a producer credit as well. Her narcissism had reached new heights. Think Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and you'll get the idea. Unfortunately, for her, Jim was quickly losing his patience.
Upon learning that Molly was now claiming she wrote the entire script, I sought out Judy for advice. Regrettably, Judy hated conflict and had long-since grown tired of playing referee between me and Molly. She dropped out of the production. I was left to fend for myself. Retrospectively, I realize her exit caused me to have to put on my big boy pants and confront my dilemma. On one hand, I was this close to spear-heading my first feature film. I wasn't a greedy person. All I wanted was my writing credit and a walk-on role in it. On the other hand, the working script bore little to no resemblance to my original source material. It had practically been taken over by a talentless wannabe ‘produceactress’ whose stiff acting would have looked out of place in an adult film. It was clear, the costs of being associated with Molly far outweighed the next-to-nonexistent benefits. I was on the fence, but knew what I had to do. I was backed in to a corner and was about to break out my secret weapon: my copyright certificate.
It would later turn out, Judy was the first of several people to leave referring to Molly as ‘unprofessional,’ ‘a crazy b---h,’ ‘an amateur,’ ‘a pain in the butt’ and everything in between. I had heard whispers, but I wouldn't become aware of much of the internal conflict, with her as the cause, until after the fact. Molly, of course, always had an answer for everything, including why people kept dropping out i.e. schedule conflicts, production delays, etc. It all seemed feasible, because these things do happen in the film world. Then, one day, I got a message from, “Don,” the California-based graphic web designer, with a copy of the conceptual video done based on my screenplay. This was news to me. Lo and behold, guess who was in the leading role? If you guessed Molly, you get a cookie. The entire storyline had been completely changed. In the credits she was listed as the writer. My name was nowhere to be found.
Her excuse for why I was not in any way involved with the shoot for the promotional video? There was ‘no time’ to get me involved. My name being mistakenly absent from the credits? A clerical error she promised to have fixed (it never was). I brought up that, Don, had been flown in from across the country to be the still photographer, yet I, who lived less than 60 miles away from the filming location, was left out of the loop. She ignored my question and blew me off.
It felt like my soul had been crushed. My labor of love, my first screenplay had been absconded with by this...no-talent, phony! I was caught between tears and rage for a while. It was around the same time I decided to enact my revenge, that I received a panicked phone call from Molly. She had a habit of calling at the most inopportune times. I could have been on a date, sleeping, working, etc. This instance was no exception. After both my landline and cell phone rang multiple times, I finally picked up the landline from which I gave her an aggravated greeting.
The following conversation is mostly from memory and paraphrased as it was a long time ago:
Me [annoyed]: “What do you want?”
Molly: “No time (insert emotional rant as she beat around the bush in an attempt to justify her despicable, entitled behavior all the while maintaining she was just an innocent bystander yet acting guilty as sin).”
Me: “Who did you piss off this time?”
Silence.
Me: “You overstepped your bounds again.”
More silence.
It turns out Molly had tried to play the big boss and no one was having it. She copped an attitude with “Tom,” the producer, stating ‘her orders were the director's orders.’ Her power-play backfired when Tom called Jim to confirm. Jim saw red and had effectively went on strike with Tom following suit. Between Tom and Jim, they had a combined 60 years experience in the business whereas Molly had virtually none. I later learned, Lana apologized profusely for bringing Molly into the fold and had reluctantly played mediator between her two friends. She tried, in vain, to prevent Tom and Jim from quitting, but they had made up their minds. Neither of them wanted anything to do with Molly. The ultimatum was brought down: either Molly went or they went. Them leaving would have created a domino effect and led to the production being halted. That is why Molly was flipping out, not because she was about to be outed as the cause of the whole mess. By this point, I knew her too well and saw right through her drama queen antics.
Me: “What right did you think you had to do that, Molly? Keep in mind, I know more than you think I do. If you lie, I will know. ”
After a long pause she shakily answered.
Molly: “Because I'm the cowriter.”
Me: “No, you're not. I'm so sick of you saying that. It's not only untrue, it's fraud.”
Molly: “But I made changes to it.”
Me: “Unauthorized changes. You just admitted to plagiarism and copyright infringement. Can you bring forth documented proof that you were given permission from me to rewrite my entire script? You can't. What you did was highly unethical and illegal.”
Molly: “But...”
Me [raised voice]: “I'm speaking! You're listening. I'm not gonna keep going in circles with you on this. If I have to scan my copyright certificate and put it on the net for everyone to see, I will.
Dead silence. I turned my printescanner on and scanned a blank document. It had the desired effect as she totally freaked out when she heard it. She was caught in her tangled web of deception and her brain was short circuiting as she kept trying to come up with convincing lies.
Me: “You did know my work was copyright protected, didn't you? If you did and I know you did, that doesn't just make you a criminal, it makes you a stupid criminal. You knowingly committed willful copyright infringement. I have a lawyer on retainer and the means to pursue a lawsuit. Believe me, when I tell you, I have more than enough solid evidence to prove my case if I choose to sue you.”
Molly: “Don't do that!”
Me [patronizing]: “You're right. I'm not gonna waste my time dragging you into court when the court of public opinion is so much more effective.”
Molly [stunned]: “What?”
Me: “I have a file ten inches thick: screenshots, text messages, e-mails, all detailing the subterfuge and dubious tactics you employed to try to screw me out of my creative property. I also have the plagiarized hard copies containing your distinctive moniker on the title page in place of my name. All have time stamps. Add all that to my original hard copy of my script and my copyright certificate? I swear, I'll crucify you. All people have to do is Google your name and they see you're full of it. Being a wannabe is one thing, but you'll never be able to shake the reputation of being labeled a liar and a thief. If this gets out, you'll be unemployable. It's not like people are beating down your door with job offers. Stick a fork in you. You're done.”
Dead silence.
Me: “What? No retort? No spin doctor explanation? Go on. Lie. It's what you do best. Of course, you could always shock the hell out of me and give the truth a whirl.”
Molly [meekly]: “I'm sorry.”
Me: “Why? Because you're wrong, because you're caught or because now everyone knows you for the scam artist that you are? Maybe all of the above. Either way, it's absolutely clear you have nothing even remotely resembling a conscience. Your pride and ego are too big to leave room for one.”
Molly: “I'm really am sorry.”
Me: “Ooh. Not yet, but you will be.”
Molly [horrified]: “What are you gonna do?”
Me: “‘What am I gonna do?’ What am I gonna do? Hmm. Well, for starters I'm going to use the ‘F’ word. Fired. You're fired.”
Molly: “You can't fire me! I...”
Me: “I'm speaking! I can do whatever I want. I own the copyright to (script name). I'll say it again in case you weren't listening. I own the rights to (script name).”
Molly: “I know.”
Me [yelling]: “Then why did you do it?! Did you honestly think you’d get away with trying to usurp my work and turn it in to your own little vanity project?“
Silence.
Me: “You know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Now, starting now, your name is off of this project. That's my call. The writing credit you think you deserve because you plagiarized my script? Gone. The leading role that you retooled to fit someone of your age and appearance? Gone. The producing credit you demanded you receive for illegally rewriting my script? Gone.”
Molly [fake crying]: “Why do you hate me?”
Me: “Spare me the crocodile tears. If you put the energy you wasted conning people in to actually going out on and booking auditions, you’d be a working actress right now. Instead, you're a nobody that no one wants to work with, let alone be around. You're just a bored housewife chasing a pipe dream. Make no mistake. I'm not calling you a has-been. You're a never-was.”
Silence.
Me: “Seriously, how many people, have to go no-contact with you before you realize that you're the problem? Even your own daughter doesn't talk to you because you're a vile b---h and you can expect your son to do the same when he goes off to college. You're a compete failure as a professional, a horrible excuse for a human being and not worth any more of my time.”
Molly [no longer fake crying, pleading]: “You don't have to talk to me like that. I can change. I promise I can change.”
Me: “Cut the bullsh--! Save your empty promises for someone who cares, because I have no more f--ks left to give. You better hope Lana can do some fancy footwork and prevent Tom and Jim from quitting. I won't blame them if they do. They're professionals. They don't need to put up with this crap. You also seem to have forgotten, the entire cast and crew was recruited at their invitation. Once they abandon ship, word will spread like wildfire and everyone will mutiny. With them gone, I guarantee you everyone will walk off the set. If this whole thing ends up dead in the water, you can bet your butt, I'll make damn sure to point the finger at you as the reason why. If that happens, I swear on my father's grave, in every way that it matters I'll be done with you. Do you understand?”
Silence.
Me [shouting]: “Do you understand?!”
Molly: “Yes.”
Me: “You see, Molly, I haven't trusted you for quite some time. Now I just don't like you. Get a life. One that doesn't involve me.”
When I ended the call, I was raging hot. The entire conversation was cathartic and liberating. Unlike Molly, I keep promises. I sent all of my documented evidence to Don who then forwarded it to Jim, Tom and the other producers. One by one, all of them publicly quit. They made detailed posts on their Facebook pages. Molly wasn't called out by name specifically, but anyone remotely connected to the production knew the identity of the ‘unprofessional individual’ they alluded to.
The production ultimately ended up being canceled. It eventually came out that I was the only writer and the script presented to them was plagiarized by none other than Molly herself. Those who were unaware of the behind the scenes drama, started blowing up her social media demanding an explanation. Molly, who always had something to say and craved attention, had finally gotten her wish granted by karma. All eyes were on her, just not in the flattering way she wanted. It should come as no surprise, Molly offered up no satisfactory answers to any questions asked and took no responsibility for her monumental screw up. Unable to take the heat, she, in a demonstration of her trademark cowardice, tucked her tail between her legs and went off the grid. Even though, by then everyone knew of her dirty deeds, Molly never did admit she was the reason why everything went to hell in a handbasket. Shocker.
For several months after that, Molly left me alone. Considering she used to stalk me online, I find it amusing she didn't notice when I blocked her on all my social media. I changed cellphone providers shortly thereafter. I also made certain that she never got my new number. I kind of wish I could have seen the epic tantrum she, no doubt, threw when she realized I had gone no-contact with her.
About a month after purging the leech of a fake b---h, known as Molly, out of my life, I got a call on my landline from an unfamiliar number with an out of state area code. I didn't answer but, “Andrea,“ my roommate listened to the voicemail. It was Molly calling to inform me that Jim, the director, had passed away due to a heart attack. I didn't listen to the message. Andrea gave me the gist. Molly sounded panicked and, in her typical entitled fashion, turned the tragedy into a story about herself:
Molly: “Great. Now the movie's never going to get made.”
What a cold-hearted b---h. I was speechless. We were both stunned. Forget the fact that Jim's wife was now a widow or that his children were now fatherless or that his grandchildren would never know their grandfather. Her ego being stroked as a Grade B-movie actress was more important. Andrea deleted the message and I headed to work. Being that I was unable to block her number on the landline, Molly later made another attempt to get my attention with her histrionics. I was still at work when Andrea intercepted the call. A little fact about my roommate: she is a German-Jew native New Yorker with a very big mouth. She takes absolutely no crap and makes Judge Judy Sheindlin seem like a cream puff by comparison. You can just imagine how that entire call went.
Here's a snippet:
Andrea: “Molly, the man died. Does that mean anything to you, you selfish c--t?”
Upon being told off, Molly quickly tried to end the conversation but not before leaving a message to have me call her back. Andrea told Molly that I blocked her on everything for reasons that were already well-known to her and to ‘f--k off.’ Molly was in tears when she hung up. Needless to say, I never did return her call. When Andrea spilled the tea, of how she kicked Molly when she was down, I hugged her and bought her a bottle of her favorite sangria as a thank you.
It's been over six years. I haven't heard from Molly since and don't care to ever again. I'm finally starting to achieve my dreams. I recently produced and had a small role in my first short film for which I wrote the script. It was such a fulfilling and rewarding experience. The whole shoot was so overwhelming in a good way. Being a big softie, I did cry on set. I'm finally doing what I know I was born to do. In case you're wondering, yes. I still plan to produce my murder mystery without any involvement from Molly.
EDIT: For those of you who have been asking, I have since met a very talented director, who is as big of a movie geek as me, and is the complete antithesis to Molly. I don't leave a single exchange with him without feeling educated or inspired. He's a wonderful guy and he loves my murder mystery. Currently, there are plans to get it into development as soon as the coronavirus craziness dies down.
TL: DR: Narcissistic, wannabe “actress” tries to steal my script from me and produce it as her own little vanity project. I kept a detailed record of all her illegal, libelous, malicious deeds and turned everyone against her.
submitted by horrorflickguy to VoiceyHere [link] [comments]

Episode 97: “Amateur Nation: ‘Land of Hypocrisy’” - YouTube Evening MLB Picks Update & College Football Analysis  Betting With The Bag  Labor Day FRUITLESS FIGHTS S1E8 - betting Greenway Electorate  Australian Election Statistical Projections Who would win a Peterborough by-election?  Liddle's Got Issues

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Episode 97: “Amateur Nation: ‘Land of Hypocrisy’” - YouTube

Close. This video is unavailable. Dana White previews what to expect from UFC’s Fight Island, Conor McGregor's future THE HERD - Duration: 8:57. The Herd with Colin Cowherd 79,285 views. New Using the NORM.INV function, this video will walk you through how to determine the chances of Labor or Liberal winning power in the seat of Greenway in 2022. Greenway covers 81 sq.kms in the north ... THIS WEEK: *Mask math and other, “What are the odds?” questions. *Uber Eats and PostMates play favorites and get my boycott. *Tired of racism talk? How ‘bout... Close. This video is unavailable.