My thumbdrive got stolen

It was my computer back up. So someone out there, if he/she has the time, has a lot of reading. All my plays, my blogs, my photos, screenplays, writing exercises, website designs, blah blah blah. Argh!

Sigh.

Never go to the internet cafe on LaBrea and Sunset. If you do, never get up for coffee.

So the neurotic in me is terrified this memory stick thief is also a struggling screenwriter. Here's how I see it going down...All of the scripts I think are good are registered. But a few never really seemed ready...I hate high concept, so likely on of those throw aways are salable, just not good to me. This struggling screenwriter is staking out internet cafes trying to get over his writer's block and make a few bucks at the same time...He almost hits delete on everything (so he can sell the thumbdrive for $5) but finds a script he just can't stop reading. He claims it's his and sells it making millions.

In a romantic comedy twist, he also finds a photo of the writer he stole from and falls in love.

He finds her, steals her from her fiance. And after she gives everything up for him, she finds out he's a stupid petty theft moron.

In a thriller twist, she kills him.

In a horror twist, she kills him slowly.