I hesitate to give away too much information about my screenplay-in-progress, tenetively titled Canine Cum Laude (sampling of significant dialogue: "There's nothing in the school charter that says a dog can't matriculate."), but today's events suggest a natural sequel (after I relocate the first film to, say, Notre Dame). Tentative title: Ponifex Caninus ("Nothing in the canon law says a dog can't be the Holy Father"). It would make The Pope Must Die(t) look like The Agony and the Ecstacy. Of course, it would be a francise-killer (where do you take the beloved dog--beagle, of course--once he's the infallible instrument of God?), so I'll have to figure out what the second act of the trilogy would be (astronaut? au pair?). Perhaps the dog becomes a crusty old dean himself, hypocritically keeping another dog out of the university, until befriending a street-smart bitch who reminds him of his roots. Man, once I actually put pen to paper, I think I'll have a mega-smash. Jerry Bruckheimer, watch out!
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