Shaula Evans at 2013-11-19 17:08:54:

INT. OVAL OFFICE - DAY Red lights flash and alarms blare. Various BLUE-SUITED WHITE MEN flee from the office in panic. MELISSA MASON (40s), Secret Service uniform, collected and professional, strides against the tide into the office toward-- THE PRESIDENT, who sits at his desk, oblivious to the alarms, playing with an executive desk toy. MASON: Mr. President: we need to evacuate you from the building immediately. PRESIDENT: I bet you can't make me! MASON: I beg your pardon... sir? The President covers his eyes with his hands. PRESIDENT: Now you can't see me! Now you can't see me! MASON: This isn't a drill, sir. PRESIDENT: (peeking between his fingers) But I can see you, Frowny-Face! MASON: Sir, the United States is under nuclear attack-- PRESIDENT: Nuclear? Schmuclear! Mason checks her watch. MASON: We have eight minutes and forty-three seconds to get you into the helicopter on your way to Air Force One, sir. The president sticks out his arms and "flies" around the room. PRESIDENT: I'm an airy-plane! MASON: Your wife and children are waiting for you on the plane, sir. It can't take off until you board. The president grabs a remote from a side-table and clicks on a wall-mounted large screen TV. PRESIDENT: But my favorite show is on! The screen shows people fleeing across the White House lawn. MASON: That's the security feed, sir. You can watch it inside Air Force One. The President is riveted by the images of people running. PRESIDENT: I bet that skinny guy makes it to the gate before the fat one does. MASON: Mr President-- PRESIDENT: Wanna put some money on it? MASON: Six minutes and eighteen seconds, sir. PRESIDENT: Naw, it doesn't take more than two minutes to cross that lawn. MASON: To get you to safety, sir. PRESIDENT: You've got good legs, Mason. Do you dance? He puts the remote between his teeth like a rose, seizes Mason, and tangos her across the room, ending in a great swooping dip. MASON: I will physically remove you from this office if I have to, sir. Still holding Mason in a dip, the President licks her nose. Then drops her. PRESIDENT: Bet I can beat you to the helipad! Mason has an a-ha moment. MASON: Bet you can't beat me. Sir. The president races out the door. Mason shakes her head then chases after him.

donna at 2013-11-19 19:15:41:

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY Mother and father discuss concern over catching daughter and her boyfriend having sex in the middle of the afternoon in their home. Father is beyond upset. Mother tries to calm him. FATHER She’s still a minor. He’s got a job in the mines. The mines! MOTHER So she had sex with a miner, too? FATHER What? It takes a second but he finally gets the pun. FATHER (CONT’D) That’s not funny. It’s just trashy. MOTHER They were in her room, nowhere near the dump. FATHER Could you stop?! Our daughter was doing lord knows what with that boy. MOTHER And that’s the point. He’s a boy. Eighteen doesn’t make him a pedophile anymore than you were dangerous at that age with me. You were a little ridiculous screaming at them like that. FATHER He’s lucky the only thing I did was throw that Pepsi at him. MOTHER He’s lucky it was a soft drink. He doesn’t even hear her; lost in his thoughts. FATHER William. William the coal miner. Where did we go wrong? MOTHER Just don’t fire at will. FATHER You’re not funny. MOTHER No, I’m punny. FATHER Stop it. We’ve got to figure this out. MOTHER What’s to figure out? They had sex. They aren’t cooking meth, they aren’t playing with guns, no one is beating the other, she’s on birth control. They had sex. She’s eighteen in three weeks. I think we need perspective, not hysterics. FATHER You didn’t see it. He looks at me all cross-eyed... MOTHER So we know he’s not a teacher. FATHER What? MOTHER He can’t control his pupils. She can’t stop her laughter. FATHER Stop it! MOTHER (snickering) I’m just trying to work through this with you. FATHER Just the thought of him in there doing....stuff. Feeling her up... MOTHER At least we know he’s handy. FATHER Go ahead, make your jokes. I just want to tie him up and put him on a boat to nowhere. MOTHER I noah guy. He doesn’t catch that one. FATHER He was so nonchalant. Didn’t even care how much he shocked me. MOTHER So you don’t like how he conducted himself? FATHER Then he just asks her, ‘where’s the bathroom?’ He goes in there and comes out wiping his hands on our towel and acting like nothing’s wrong. MOTHER So he had a dry sense of humor? FATHER That stupid camouflage shirt. MOTHER You couldn’t find him? FATHER He’s dead broke. MOTHER Is his patron saint, Saint Nickeless? FATHER I told him to get out but our little girl claims his car’s in the parking garage downtown. MOTHER That’s wrong on so many levels. FATHER There’s a hole in that story, I just need to... He pauses, thinking. MOTHER You should look into that. FATHER So we got home, saw the soup cooking on the stove, MOTHER Was it alphabet soup because that could spell disaster. He begins to soften; appreciates the soup joke. MOTHER (CONT’D) We’ll talk with her. Make sure she’s being smart, safe. I just don’t think blaming him for both of their actions is fair. FATHER So I shouldn’t interrogate him? Ask him how he plans to support her; food, clothes, furniture? MOTHER Maybe he only wants one night stand. They both lose it, laughing heartily. The young couple comes into the house. Mom and Dad try to regain composure. Mom pulls her husband in close and whispers. MOTHER (CONT’D) Time flies like an arrow. Dad kisses her on the cheek and whisper back. FATHER And fruit flies like a banana.

evelyn1 at 2013-11-19 20:04:48:

INT. CURTIS' BEDROOM - DAY Standing in front of a full length mirror, CURTIS (30), a shaggy gentleman carelessly knots the tie on the ill-fitting suit he wears. He looks over as his hurried sister MADDIE (28) enters, looking ready and not a hair out of place. MADDIE C'mon Curtis. Thought you'd be ready by now? CURTIS (looking her over) You look ready enough for both of us. MADDIE Does everything have to be a joke with you? CURTIS Why not? A funeral can use one? MADDIE (checks the time) We're late! CURTIS Lighten up! The old bugger's going nowhere. Not this time. MADDIE We're paying our last respects! Least we can do is show up on time! He goes on fiddling with the tie. CURTIS Like the idea of last, not much on the respect though. MADDIE Everyone'll notice if we're late! CURTIS (scoffs) Girl please! It'll be a surprise if anyone but the Reverend shows up. And him you had to pay off. Curtis continues to solve the mystery of knotting a tie. Maddie's had enough, takes over. MADDIE (finishing up) There! Now let's go! Curtis checks out his look in the mirror. Frowns assessingly. CURTIS This doesn't look quite right... MADDIE (eyes rolling) You've got to be kidding me! CURTIS Nope! (takes tie off) Looks all wrong... Maddie looks on incredulously as he moves away to his closet, takes out another tie, and starts the process of knotting it all over again. MADDIE YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! She stalks out of the room, BANGING the door after her. CURTIS (satisfied) Be damned if the old sucker'll look better than me in death!

Alan D. at 2013-11-19 22:35:53:

EXT. EAGLEVILLE BANK – DAY A small brick building. Three to four cars sit in the parking lot. INT. EAGLEVILLE BANK – DAY FLYOD (26) eagerly counts small stacks of bills behind a booth. His overly gelled hair slightly bops up and down as each bill is counted. A shiny “FLYOD” name tag is pinned against his wrinkle-free gray polo shirt. A pile of ones is counted. FLYOD: Hiya, George! Now the fives. FLYOD: ( a little deeper) Hey there, Abe. A small THUD comes from in front of Flyod. He's too in his own world to notice. VOICE: A'hem. Flyod finally looks up. He stares straight out and sees a HOODED MAN in dark aviator sunglasses. It catches Flyod so off guard he doesn't notice the black HANDGUN that sits between them. FLYOD: My apologies. OK. Here we go. Welcome to Eagleville Bank, where your savings can soooaarrrrr. The man stares. He points down to the gun just within his grip. Flyod sees the gun, gulps for a moment and then a wide smirk comes across his face. FLYOD: Today's my first day. HOODED MAN: Make it simple. Money. In a bag. No fuss. FLYOD looks at the gun again. He chuckles. FLYOD: Is this a joke? FLYOD turns to another teller. HOODED MAN: Hey. Keep your eyes on me. FLYOD: Karen! KAREN!! Did you do this?! Did you set me up? KAREN'S (45) too busy to care. She waves him off. Flyod turns back to the Hooded Man, still kind of giddy. FLYOD: She's such a prankster. Is this one of those airsofts? Oh god, Karen. Flyod reaches towards the gun, the Hooded Man promptly pulls it back. HOODED MAN: Don't screw this up. Put money in a bag and hand it over to me. FLYOD: OK (smirks to himself), Would that be Monopoly or some of those chocolate gold coins? The Hooded Man leans in closer, sticks the gun straight into Flyod's chest. FLYOD: Whoa, hey now! Grandma just ironed this this morning. Wait a second. Flyod leans in close, the gun pushes harder in his chest. Flyod reaches out and pulls the sunglasses off the Hooded Man. He instantly recognizes him. FLYOD: Henry McGiver! Karen! How do you my old high school buddy, Henry. Did you two plan this together?! POP! The bullet went straight into Flyod's chest. Screams chorus throughout the building. The Hooded Man puts his sunglasses on, spins around and motions everyone to get down. HOODED MAN: On the ground, now! Flyod lays on the ground, dead, in a pool of his own blood. He still has a slight smirk frozen on his face . Blood seeps across and fills in the engraved letters on his name tag.

Adam Scott Thompson at 2013-11-19 22:58:06:

INT. CAR - NIGHT A YOUNG MAN honks his horn as he rolls to a stop. Looks around. Sees something that makes his eyes open up, then roll. YOUNG MAN: Fuck my life... An OLDER MAN approaches as the passenger window goes down. He's wearing a crotchless bondage outfit with a choke collar. OLDER MAN: Thank God! YM: Thank him in the car. Please. Quickly. The Older Man is barely in the car before the Young Man peels out. YM: Why can I see your junk? Seriously, where are your real clothes? OM: Back at the place. I didn't have time, I was in over my head... (thinks) Ah, I left my pants, my wallet! Young Man shakes his head and reaches toward the back seat for something, anything. Pulls back a plastic grocery bag, drops it over Older Man's crotch. OM: Hey-- YM: I don't wanna see that wrinkled old thing. OM: (shocked) Wrinkled? (holds down the bag) You've seen it before. At one point you were eye-level with it-- YM: Dad! Just... can you let me get through this? Okay? OM: ...Can I tell you what happened? YM: --Fuck no! I mean no... sir. Older Man lets out a chuckle that pitches up into a high giggle. YM: It's not... (waving in Older Man's face) It's not funny, Dad, it's-- (almost cracks up himself) You are fully ridiculous right now. Are you hearing me? OM: Look, when your mom left one of the things she accused me of was not being adventurous enough, so... YM: So backpack through Europe, or skip a prostate exam. Don't go to Ilsa's House of Pain! Look at you, you look like The Gimp! OM: The who? Older Man shifts the bag-- YM: Don't remove that! OM: Look here, young man-- YM: No, no... no more "look here" sermons. Not after tonight. Can't believe I'm saying this as a thirty year-old man but you've scarred me for life. Older Man smiles, reaches out for his son. OM: Ah, son... YM: (recoiling) Don't! That looks like Astroglide between your fingers. I think. I hope. Don't answer! ...Hope there's no cops out here 'cause I won't be taken alive. Older Man snaps his fingers-- OM: Sussudio! That was the safe word. Hey, can you turn the car around? FIN

Mark Walker at 2013-11-20 02:05:37:

INT. OPERATING THEATRE - DAY PATIENT lies on the operating table, green surgical sheets cover his torso, apart from a gaping chest wound into which SURGEON has both hands inserted, saving the world one patient at a time. Patient's eyes flicker open, confused. As he gets his bearings, horror registers on his face as he remembers where he is. PATIENT Err...I can see... SURGEON I know, this ain't cataract surgery son. PATIENT No... my eyes. SURGEON They are a beautiful shade of blue. PATIENT My eyes are open! SURGEON He's seen the light, praise the Lord! PATIENT No... I mean... SURGEON Thank god for that, thought I'd lost another one then. PATIENT (alarmed) Eh? SURGEON Now, what were you here for again? PATIENT What? SURGEON Gender re-alignment wasn't it? PATIENT No! Appendix, I was having my appendix out! SURGEON Ah yes, I remember now -- (to himself) I wonder if I can put that back in. PATIENT Did you say something? SURGEON No no... just lie back, let us take the strain. PATIENT But shouldn't I be asleep? SURGEON You lazy bugger, it's only three in the afternoon. PATIENT For f... surgery you idiot. Shouldn't I be knocked out -- SURGEON -- you want me to punch you? PATIENT No, anaesthetic, I need anaesthesia. SURGEON Oh, I see... yes punching would be a bit weird. PATIENT And operating without anaesthesia isn't? SURGEON Perfectly normal sir... I never touch it before performing an operation... or driving. PATIENT Not you for chrissakes, me! SURGEON I suppose that does make more sense. PATIENT So do I get some? I think I am starting to feel what you are doing. SURGEON Well, we could give you some. PATIENT But...? SURGEON But I'm not trained... you need an anaesthetist for that -- jeez that is a hard word to say over and over again, never really thought about that before... anaesthetist, anaesthetist, anaesthetist, bet it is a hard one to write as well? PATIENT (very agitated) Will you shut up! I am awake... on an operating table... I should not be awake while you have your filthy hands inside my chest! SURGEON I can assure you we take hygiene very seriously here, my hands were very clean... before I stuck them inside you. PATIENT Where is everyone else? SURGEON It's lunch, I let them go early, I can finish this off... If I can just find your heart again. PATIENT What?! Leave my heart alone you crazy butcher! Appendix! Appendix! Take it out! SURGEON Okay, calm down sir, we're nearly done. No need to take things so seriously. (He winks at Patient) Look, see what happens when I push this. Surgeon leans forward to put pressure on something inside Patient's chest cavity. Patient's left leg rises straight of the operating table and drops back when Surgeon releases pressure. He does the same with the right leg. Repeatedly. So it looks like patient is marching on his back. SURGEON (Contd.) Cracks me up everytime! He leans over to a small table covered in instruments, picking up a large, shiny saw-like device. SURGEON Right, which appendix was it, left or right? He looks down at Patient who has fainted dead away. SURGEON See... such a fuss. His hands, and the saw disappear in Patient's chest.

GallagherMW at 2013-11-20 02:39:13:

INT. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE - MORNING PRINCIPAL MCCLUSTER, 57, spends this morning like he spends most: reading the newspaper, counting the days to his retirement, and waiting for JOHNNY SWIFT to arrive for their semi-standing appointments, i.e. whenever Johnny fucks up. The door FLINGS open, Johnny saunters in, scrolling through content on his TABLET. McCluster lowers his NEWSPAPER with contempt. MCCLUSTER: Johnny. JOHNNY: P McC. MCCLUSTER: How many times have I told you to stop calling me that? JOHNNY: Shit, billions, probably. MCCLUSTER: You just never learn. JOHNNY: Sure I do. I just don't care. Johnny sits in the chair, putting his feet on McCluster's desk. McCluster's face is turning red. MCCLUSTER: You know why you're here? JOHNNY: Because you don't understand my art? MCCLUSTER: (standing up, fuming) YOU SPRAYPAINTED A PENIS ON MY CAR! JOHNNY: And you can't see the symbolism there? MCCLUSTER: GET THE FU... HEL... GET OUT OF HERE NOW! You have detention for a MONTH! JOHNNY: Drat. Johnny calmly gets up and leaves, smiling at P McC the whole time. INT. DETENTION ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON Johnny knocks on the door, seeing if anyone else is around. A SEXY FEMALE TEACHER opens the door. SEXY FEMALE TEACHER: You went too far, Johnny. JOHNNY: You love it. They embrace and kiss like animals, before closing and locking the DOOR. THE END...

Aurélien Lainé at 2013-11-20 04:48:12:

INT. LOCKER ROOM. NIGHT Surrounding the coach who sits in silence in the middle the room, the team mourns a yet to come defeat. PLAYER 1 stands up, walks past PLAYER 2 and enters: INT. LOCKER ROOM BATHROOM. NIGHT Player 1 stares at his reflection in the mirror as Player 2 walks in. PLAYER 2: You okay chief? Player 1: Am I okay? Where were you for the first half? Player 2: well, I'm the goalkeeper so clearly under fire. Player 1: Yea, we're losing pretty bad. If I could just place that ballon between the other goalkeeper's legs. Player 2: I think he already has a couple up there. Player 1 shakes that response away with his head. Player 1: I've trained all my life for this, I have to make it happen. Player 2: You trained all your life to put a ball between a dude's legs? That's creepy. Player 1: Give it a rest will you? Player 2: I'm trying but I've been bombarded for the past 45 min and now you're talking about balls between legs. Player 1: After tonight, it's either win or lose, everything changes. Player 2: Five to zero, how about you go for the lose plan. Player 1: I can't, if we lose, my dad will never look at me like a man. Player 2: And if you put a ball between a man's legs he will? Player 1: You're in a funny mood for a dude who spent the first half of the game looking at balls flying past him and into the net. Player 2: And the show is spectacular from where I stand. I'll get some of these guys to sign my shirt for sure. Player 1: Do you have no respect? I'm dying here, the team's dying, and you play the funny boy? Player 2: That team, the one kicking our ass, how many international games have they played? Player 1: dunno. Player 2: Fifty two. How many have we played? Player 1: Zero. Player 2: Fucking zero. Nobody in the entire league thought that we'd make it this far. But we have. Silence. Player 2: So cry another day and see how lucky you are. How lucky we all are. And that ball you so dearly want to put between someone's legs, it's hitting my ass all the way so don't give me the respect bitch talk. Player 1: I want to win so badly. Player 2: We already have. The coach calls all players in the next room. The two men leave the bathroom hands on each other's shoulders.

Mira Desai at 2013-11-20 06:06:07:

PIA (walks in through the main door, laden with grocery bags) You’re home early, son, not bad… JASON (switching TV channels desultorily) Didn’t go PIA (puts away the groceries angrily) Didn’t go? JASON Didn’t. PIA Why? JASON Champions final. Bayern outplayed. Zip zip zoom! Magic! (whistles) PIA Son! JASON What, ma? PIA Can’t you take leave? Casual, sick, privilege, you know? JASON Didn’t. Can’t. PIA Can’t what? JASON (mimics English tone) “Hello Mrs. Smith this is Jason from Dittybank, how are you today Mrs. Smith… must tell you about a marvelous new credit card Mrs. Smith…just in time for your holiday card max-out Mrs. Smith…” PIA Very funny. Poor Mrs. Smith JASON (yawns) all those night shifts, selling cards and loans to strangers halfway around the world… PIA Don’t have to do that, you know… JASON Not yawn? Why? PIA Don’tcha why me, son. Get a life! Time passing you by, fleet footed! Football…football…. Play football if you must. Like a pro. Or dance, stage quality… JASON Dancin football? Howzzat? (leaps up suddenly and double claps like in modern dance) ”That, ladies and gentlemen, is a goooooooal…!”

Gordon at 2013-11-20 09:30:16:

INT - FRONT HALL - DAY WIFE You are not going out there. HUSBAND Of course I am. WIFE It is very dangerous. HUSBAND I know, that's part of it. WIFE They just found a body in there last week. HUSBAND I know, I smelled it, but like that rap star said, "it wasn't me". WIFE I am not going to have my husband get killed walking on that road. HUSBAND Oh, I'm not going on that road. WIFE Thank you. HUSBAND I'm going in the forest. WIFE Oh mi Deus, no, no, no, no! HUSBAND Don't worry about it baby, I go in there all the time. Like once a month. WIFE But what if the gangs chase you? HUSBAND I go on one of my escape routes. They've chased me three or four times already. WIFE And you went back? HUSBAND Like succumbing to the dark side, it is unavoidable! WIFE You are crazy. I have to save you. HUSBAND When I watch Raiders of the Lost Arc, the opening scene, I said to myself, "I want that". Now I'm here in Brazil, and there's a rain forest enclave right there, a minute from my door, and you don't think I'm going? You're the one whose crazy. WIFE No, you don't have to do this. We can go to bed, and you can have fun there. HUSBAND I can't hike at night, but I can have you anytime. It's all about effective use of one's time. WIFE If you go out there you will not have me. HUSBAND I go hiking, come back all sweaty, take a shower, and then I take you. It is unavoidable. WIFE NO, no, no. HUSBAND Some people go on roller coaster ride, I hike in gang infested rain forests. The guards have saved me twice, and I ran the gangs into thick brush the other times. I got long legs, baby. WIFE You are crazy. HUSBAND And you know what long legs mean!

Femme_Mal at 2013-11-20 10:15:38:

[Note: I've been obsessed with that crazy rooftop breakup live-tweeted this past week. There surely must have been more content in that conversation, which I've added.] EXT. URBAN ROOFTOP — TWILIGHT SHE: Look, I'm not ready for marriage, it’s just that I think we're ready for something just below marriage. HE: So not the penthouse, but maybe the tenth floor, right? SHE: Not physically below! Like living together. It's more than we're doing now, but it's less than marriage. HE: Living together? But your roommates are assholes. No, that's an insult to assholes. SHE: So rescue me from them, don't leave me living with them. HE: But you'd still have an asshole for a roommate. You know, me, the guy you've called an asshole when you get pissed off at me. (beat) Wait, I'm a better class of asshole...Is there a word for that? Super asshole? No, that won't work either, that's like a superhero. Maybe, a super anti-hero— (trails off) SHE: You never let me talk! HE: But you never let me talk! I haven't figured out the right word for the kind of asshole I am and you won't help me, and you won't let me talk it out! SHE: Ugh, I cannot be with someone who's like this! (gestures at him) HE: Wait, are you talking about my wardrobe again? Really? (looks at his own attire) SHE: (sniffling, teary) I just don't understand! HE: (still looking at attire) They told me New York was so not the place for me. HE gropes his jacket pocket, pulls out phone, peers at it, replaces it. SHE: Who was that? Who was calling you? HE: It was a work call. Just work. You know, that stuff that pays for my wardrobe you're having a problem with. (beat) Clearly underpaid, too. (trails off, inspecting worn cuffs and jacket lapels) SHE: What? I don't understand. HE: (groping at pocket again) Work, that four-letter word for modern indentured slavery, the meaningless ritualistic motion that pays for ground floor, aspires to pay for tenth floor, and some day penthouse living? Yeah, that. SHE: You’re hiding something. Who was that? Who called you? HE: It was a work call, a work text, a co-worker. Hi-o, hi-ho, it’s off to work we go, work. (pats pocket again, as if muting sound) SHE: Let me read it then, give me the phone. (holds out hand) HE: (grabs phone from pocket, makes rapid flailing gestures over it) You don’t need to see my phone to trust me. These are not the calls you’re looking for. (re-pockets phone) SHE: You’re lying to me. You’re not being straight with me. This isn’t the first time either. You’ve lied to me about other calls. HE: Okay, so those were the only times I lied to you. Right? We can agree on that? Just the calls? Please, agree with me on this. (pats phone in pocket again) SHE: You’re so cruel sometimes! (more teary sniffling) HE: Look, sometimes I just want to hang out with my friends, and not with my you friends. SHE: (shakes head in confusion) What? I can't understand— HE: Your roommates are assholes. I don’t know what kind of assholes, I still need to think of a word for their kind of assholes, but you know what I mean kind of assholes. SHE: But my roommates are always like, "Where's your boyfriend?" And I'm can’t give them a good answer. How's that being an asshole? HE: Just tell me what you want but don't make it something fucking gay. (beat) Or merry, I meant merry, like happy. (beat) And not merry like marry, like wedding. Definitely not like that. SHE: Are we going to live together? HE: But what is, like, living together? (makes odd gesture with hands) Like, what's an apartment mean? (beat) You know what I'm saying, right? Because I don't. SHE: Seriously? HE: Seriously serious. I'm serious here. SHE: Seriously? HE: Yes, seriously. Seriously. (beat) Should I go for a third? Yes, seriously. SHE: Do you love me? HE: (beat) Look, I'm not a guy who's into labels. You knew that getting involved with me. (beat) Damn, that's probably why I can't figure out what kind of asshole I am. SHE: Answer the fucking question. HE: I don't think we need to talk about this up here. (looks around roofline) There must be better places to talk about this. Like maybe the ground floor, near doors, much closer to the street. SHE: Just answer my question. HE: I'm not talking about love on a rooftop. Or an elevator, either, for that matter. SHE rests her hands in her head, still waiting for an answer. HE pulls his cellphone of his pocket as it blows up with more text messages. SHE looks up and watches him, glaring. HE flails at it again to silence it. SHE shakes her head negatively. SHE: Can you see yourself living with me in a year? In five years? HE: I can't think in terms of like, time and shit. It's physics, you know, time's relative. What's a year or five years, but labels on a relative experience? SHE: I can't do this. You're a waste of my time. I can't be with someone like this. HE: Are we getting pizza or what, then? I don't mean to change the subject, but are we? I can't think when my stomach's growling. SHE: Why don't you get pizza with your texting co-worker? SHE walks away from him toward roof exit door. HE: So what does this mean? We're not getting pizza after all? You want something else, like Thai food? How about Chinese? SHE: (shakes her head negatively) I'm done. Figure it out. Maybe you can come up with a label for this, just once. SHE enters stairwell. HE watches as she moves down the stairs and out of sight, then pulls his cellphone of his pocket to make a call. HE: Hello, Domino’s? FADE OUT.

simon at 2013-11-20 13:14:45:

Based on a true story: [scrippet] INT - HOSPITAL DELIVERY ROOM - EARLY HOURS OF THE MORNING Soft lights glow down on a husband calmly supporting his wife in the final stages of labour, eighteen hours since contractions began. Two midwives and an Obstetrician attend to the business end of childbirth. Husband (wiping sweat from his wife's brow) Nearly there darling, the head is crowning, keep it up gorgeous Wife (fighting for breath between painful surging contractions) Tha……(breath)…Tha….(breath)……thank…ooohhhhhh……(breath)…(breath)….(breath)…….thanks hun….oooohhhhhhhh..I'm not sure I can take this pain Obstetrician (cooly) Ok Mrs Simpson, you're doing really well, making great progress. I'm just going to make a small cut, what we call in the business an episiotomy. It's completely normal and will really give that baby some room. And don't worry, we'll sow you up afterwards, nice and neat The wife glances tremulously at her husband who tenderley strokes her cheek Husband You'll be fine darling, we've been through this in the neonatal classes, "just a walk in the park, Kazansky" you said, remember? Husband (to the Obstetrician, smiling) You can put an extra stitch or two in there afterwards buddy, eh, tighten 'er up a bit (winks)? The Obstetrician shoots a look of horror back at the husband. The delivery room falls silent and goes into slow motion, all we hear is one long beat of the heart monitor as the wife slowly turns towards her smirking husband Wife What did you just say? Husband You'll be fine darling, "Just a wal- Wife I heard that bit - I mean the next bit? Husband What - the bit about the stitches? I was just mucking around, haven't you heard it before - it's an old joke Wife I did not find it Fu….ooohhhhh………..(breath)…..(breath)…(breath)…..FUNNY Are you trying to say I have a big vagina or something? Husband Well dear, if the glove fits, and all that……or rather in this case, if the glove doesn't quite fit….. Wife You absolute… The Wifes face contorts in pain leaving her unable to finish the sentence Husband Oh dear, it's the doghouse for me when we get home. Hey - look on the bright side, you're always longing to go back to your prom days? Well this could be a couple of stitches in time, so to speak There is a sudden rush of acitivity as the midwives and the Obstetrician suddenly have to grab hold of the wife and stop her from getting up from the delivery bed Wife (shouting through gritted teeth) You’ll be in a lot worse place than the doghouse, and why we’re at it, perhaps if you had a bigger d*** you wouldn’t be poking fun at me. When I get out of here I’m going to go back to my prom days, and just like back then I;m gonna f*** your best friend, how do you like – BABY waaaaaaaa, waaaaaaaaaa Husband There you go darling, the pain is over – and you didn’t even notice! Wife (chuckling) You arsehole! [/scrippet]

jonasb at 2013-11-20 20:06:52:

BOOMER What do you got going on here, buddy? Just playing in the mud? GASPARD No, I'm building a haus. BOOMER A "haus"? GASPARD "Haus"? House? Hose? I can never remember which one. BOOMER What's a haus? GASPARD Oh; it's to live in. Yeah, Karen and I are going to live in here- you know--when it's done. BOOMER You're gonna live here instead of the cave? GASPARD Yeah. BOOMER What's wrong with the cave? GASPARD Nothing's wrong with the cave. The cave is great. BOOMER Then why are you leaving it? GASPARD Well, we have decided-- BOOMER You mean, Karen has decided. GASPARD Karen has decided with--we-- (softly) She doesn't like doing it in front of other people. She thinks it's gross. BOOMER She doesn't like doing it in front of other people? The only thing better than doing it in front of other people is doing it with other people. GASPARD Karen's a little self-conscious about her body after the kids-- BOOMER Which are not yours-- GASPARD No, they're not mine; but Karen says they need a good role model, so-- BOOMER Which is obviously you. GASPARD Yes. BOOMER So, wait: Karen has sold you on this idea of being ashamed of having sex in the cave because other people might see you? GASPARD Yes. BOOMER But you're having so much fun. Why would you not want to share that? GASPARD It is a lot of fun. It is. BOOMER Remember the other night, when you guys were really going at it and came over to see what was going on and I jumped in? GASPARD I do remember that. BOOMER That was awesome. GASPARD It was awesome. BOOMER But Karen didn't like it? GASPARD She hated it. BOOMER Huh. GASPARD You don't remember how she kept screaming at you and punching your face? BOOMER I just thought she was into abuse stuff. GASPARD Nope. BOOMER So when I was hitting her back and she was crying-- GASPARD All for real. BOOMER Huh. GASPARD Yep. BOOMER You sure you want to go through with this "mirage" thing? GASPARD Marriage. Yes? BOOMER I don't know, bud. It kind of seems like Karen's getting the better end of the deal. GASPARD It was a mutual decision, all right? BOOMER A decision that Karen made for you-- GASPARD No; not-- BOOMER To live together and not have sex with anyone else. GASPARD Yes. BOOMER In this thing that Karen invented. GASPARD That Karen--yes, she made the decision and I--I did not know that I had to say, "No." Look, it's good for me, too. BOOMER How? How is it good for you? GASPARD I get to wake up to her smiling face everyday. In the background, Karen has her bitch face on. GASPARD (CONT'D) And help her raise her kids. Her shitty kids, fighting. GASPARD (CONT'D) And have sex with her whenever she feels like it. BOOMER Which is never. GASPARD Which is--when she doesn't have a headache. BOOMER Why are you doing this to yourself? You're a-- Considers Gaspard's stupid homely face. BOOMER (CONT'D) --guy, with...all of his face parts. What girl wouldn't want to-- Gaspard's confused, even stupider homely face. BOOMER (CONT'D) Look, you don't have to limit your options, is all I'm saying. Karen does not have an exclusive claim to your--to your stuff. GASPARD I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to talk me out of it. Well, that's not going to happen. Karen and I are very happy together - Karen, scowling. BOOMER Obviously. GASPARD I just think that, maybe this is for the best, you know? Maybe Karen's onto something. BOOMER Not onto you, apparently. GASPARD Well, she gets headaches. BOOMER I can see why. On Karen's bitch face. BOOMER (CONT'D) It's like her face doesn't want to be part of her body anymore. The apt simile careens off of Gaspard's inexcusably stupid, homeliest of faces. BOOMER (CONT'D) So, tell me about this mud-cave you're building. GASPARD It's gonna be great. There's gonna be a place for sleeping, a place for eating, a place for the kids to play; and Karen says later I can maybe build a little place off to the side for myself. BOOMER That sounds great. GASPARD I know, right? Hey, do you want to help? You want to give me a hand? BOOMER Yeah, that kind of looks like fun. (joins in) What do you--you just stack them on top of each other, like this? GASPARD Like that. Then, when it's dry, we'll rub some more mud in-between. BOOMER Stabilize it, huh? GASPARD Yeah. BOOMER Hey, this is kind of nice. Where'd you get all this mud? GASPARD By the river. BOOMER Yeah, this is good mud. Ow. GASPARD You okay? BOOMER Yeah, I just poked myself on something. Looks like you got something in the mud there. What is that? Is that grass? GASPARD It's straw? BOOMER Straw, huh? GASPARD Yeah. I tried making it with just mud, but it kept falling apart. So, I put straw in it to keep it together. BOOMER That's smart. GASPARD Yeah, it's holding together much better now. BOOMER I see that. Mud and straw, very ingenious. GASPARD Then I glued it all together with shit. BOOMER (what?) Hm? GASPARD Shit. The haus kept drying and cracking, then it all crumbled and fell apart. So I mixed some shit in there to kinda glue the whole thing together. BOOMER Shit, like dung? Like animal stuff? GASPARD Yeah, there's some cow shit in there, and horse shit and dog shit. I shit in it. BOOMER You shit in it? GASPARD Yeah. Karen and the kids pitched in, too. Karen gave me tons of shit. Half this haus has some Karen in it. Boomer considers his hands. BOOMER Karen's making you live in a house made of her shit. GASPARD A shit haus. Shit hose? Shit house? BOOMER (waves) Hi, Karen. Karen's bitch face scowls back. BOOMER (CONT'D) You taking donations? GASPARD Can always use more materials. This hose is going to be epic. Might even add a second level later on. BOOMER You don't mind if I add a little? Put my own touch on it? GASPARD By all means. BOOMER You don't mind? I don't want to mess up what you've got going. GASPARD No; please, I welcome it. BOOMER (pats Gaspard's shoulder) You're doing fine work here. GASPARD Thank you. And thanks for your help. I really appreciate it. BOOMER (squatting) Hey, anything for you, bud.

Scott at 2013-11-20 21:50:54:

I am posting this for Angela Neale who is having technical issues: INT. PUBLIC BAR. DAY. Brother and sister catch up. He’s straight; she’s a lesbian. She’s vascillating between being sympathetic and trying hard not to laugh. JAKE Well, it’s never happened to me before. It’s an end of the goddamned world, plague of locusts disaster! LUCY You could’ve turned your... (stifles a smirk) ...Stage fright into an opportunity to truly impress the hell out of her. JAKE Trying too hard to do exactly that might’ve caused the problem in the first place. LUCY When are you seeing her again? JAKE When Hell freezes over or we elect a wheelchair-bound Latino Muslim lesbian President; whichever comes first. LUCY You’re gonna blame her? JAKE It’s never happened with any other woman, so, yeah. LUCY It must be that. It couldn’t possibly be your nutritionally-balanced diet of cheeseburgers, hotdogs and beer clogging your arteries. All the essential food groups – fat, salt, alcohol, artificial colorings and flavorings, and preservatives. JAKE I ask them to put lettuce in my burgers now. It’s bizarre and disgusting, but Aussies have ‘em like that, so I figured it probably won’t kill me. Mention tofu or mung beans and I'm renouncing our sibling ties. LUCY Yeah, lettuce’ll undo a decade's worth of chronic cardiovascular abuse. Look, even at his very best, li’l Jakey gets all ready to rock ’n roll – (She straightens and salutes) – rarin’ to go, then one little drink, he throws up and passes out. If your girl’s lucky, li’l Jake’ll manage a repeat performance before big Jakey wants the rest of the night off to sleep. This is not any woman’s fault. JAKE It's an arrangement that's worked just fine for ninety-five percent of the sisterhood for the entirety of human history, Luce. LUCY Too many of whom are apparently used to having their expectations lowered. JAKE Well, evolution and good old-fashioned heterosexual procreation made you. You shouldn’t treat them with scorn. LUCY Four billion years’ worth of trial and error, six gazillion tadpoles a shot and a statistical improbability that they can’t all have been total idiots made me. JAKE It had to be the smart-ass lezzo that got through. LUCY Jake, listen and learn. Apart from when they cease to amuse you any more and you dump them in the most callously insensitive manner the 21st century has to offer - by tweet - have you ever made a woman cry? I mean in bed. Not cry from laughing, but really cry. Hold you so tight afterwards you think she’s gonna boa-constrict the life out of you? JAKE Oh, what is it with women and crying? You cry at sad movies. You cry at happy movies. You cry when the weather comes on the evening news. PMS tears. Tears for starving orphans. Tears because the friggin' toast never comes out the right shade first time. LUCY Tears are how dykes know the straight women playing dykes on screen and their director have done background research beyond hours spent gazing at ‘fuckmeharder.com’. We live in hope... Li’l Jake’s hosting a slumber party isn’t the end of the world. We manage just fine. There’s a whole other world behind door number two, and opening it'll give you a chance to regroup. JAKE Lemme see if I’ve got this straight. When I go to bed with a woman, you want her to think I’m a lesbian? LUCY No; no woman would ever confuse you for another woman. You couldn't pull off Tootsie. (this isn't working) I'm thinking maybe you'd be so much happier with one of your tailgate party buddies. Save crying for the only legitimate reason God put tear glands in men for: when your football team loses.

Tlo Writes at 2013-11-20 23:45:03:

I'm not sure if this was the kind of thing you had in mind. One character is comedic. One dramatic. And they are arguing... Apologies if this posts a few times. I had some difficulties. Not surprising, actually... 'No Place Like Home' ------------- EXT. A FIELD OF LAVENDER - DAY Two men, MATT (22), lavishly dressed in bright, mismatched colors and CHRIS (22), his clothes a matched mixture of muted hues, wake up in a gigantic field of Lavender. Matt gazes in awe at the BONG in his hand. MATT Ah-mazing! What a trip! How do I look? CHRIS Gay as usual. What the hell was in that thing? They squint in the exceptionally bright sunlight. MATT We’ll try it later. I have a stash. Now that gives me the most unbelievable dreams! It’s almost like- He trails off. For the first time noticing... At one end of the field, a stately and imposing GOLDEN CITY filled with SPIRES and DOMES of all sizes, surrounded by high, thick GOLDEN walls inlaid with SPARKLING DIAMONDS. An excited Matt leaps to his feet. Smooths his clothing. MATT (CONT’D) Whoa. Posh! How do I look? I can’t meet the queen looking all frumpy! CHRIS Only queen here is you. Chris notices - at the other end of the field; an ominous cluster of tall RAINBOW-HUED SPIRES. A flock of WINGED CATS dive from the top most spire. His head whips around to see- From the GOLDEN CITY march STATUESQUE CLOAKED SOLDIERS carrying vicious-looking GOLDEN SPEARS. Matt is still pre-occupied with his wardrobe. Chris jabs a finger at the winged cats. CHRIS (CONT’D) They’re flapping this way! Matt screams like a girl. Starts toward the rainbow-hued spire. Chris makes for toward the Golden City. They stop. Turn. CHRIS (CONT’D) Where are you going? MATT Those- (points at soldiers) -look a lot more dangerous than (points at cats) -those! CHRIS You already know how the story goes. This is your favorite movie! MATT This is not Oz. Those are not flying monkeys and the Wizard is just a lunatic with a God complex. Matt SNEEZES. MATT (CONT’D) And I need to get out of this field. Unless you brought an icepack? Benadryl? Epi-pen? Oh God, are my eyes puffy? I think my tongue is starting to swell. The winged cats soar closer. CHRIS You’re allergic to cats. MATT I’ll risk it. CHRIS I won’t! MATT You’re being unreasonable! CHRIS We go that way and those Bat Cats will tear us to shreds. MATT We go your way and our heads’ll be stuck on the end of those spears faster than you can say Ned is dead, poor fool lost his head! CHRIS You’re being dramatic. Matt gestures wildly at their situation. MATT You love cats! CHRIS Those don’t look like the small, domesticated, snuggle with me when I‘m sick kind. The cats swoop low. Bare razor sharp claws and needle thin teeth. Matt SNEEZES. MATT I’m going! CHRIS Get down, you delirious fool! Chris tackles Matt and they land in a tangled heap. Soldiers spear hissing cats out of the sky. CHRIS (CONT’D) C’mon, let’s go. Matt crawls toward the rainbow-hued spire. Chris clutches his legs in a death grip. MATT We already discussed this! Matt SNEEZES. CHRIS Be quiet or they’ll hear us. MATT They’re busy spearing cats! CHRIS I meant the cats, dumbass. MATT Your pus can scent out a rat fart at fifty paces. If they were the slightest bit interested, they’d be on us faster than Heisenberg could chalk out the chemical composition of ‘blue sky’! Matt crawls toward the rainbow-hued spire. CHRIS Dammit! Why do you never listen! POOF. An elderly woman (70s) in a GARISH POINTED HAT and MISMATCHED WITCHES ROBES BURSTS out of a PLUME of PURPLE-HUED SMOKE. Two winged cats protectively prowl at her feet. MATT (flails) Ahhh! They’ve found us! Run! Grams? CHRIS Grams?! GRANDMA You’re late. Behind them, an ANGUISHED SCREAM. They whirl to see- A diminutive man atop the highest spire of his Golden City. A ridiculously large CROWN glints in the sun and lavishly sparkling golden robes whip in the breeze. The Witch raises her arms. Behind, the winged cat army teeters on the edge of her castle spires. GRANDMA (CONT’D) Fly my kitties! Fly! Fly! CHRIS Well, Matt. You win. I guess we’re not in WeHo anymore.

JKA at 2013-11-20 23:55:22:

Julie, a mother and wife, has decided to have an affair with an old flame. Her new friend, Jake, tries to foil the plan during a dinner at her parents' home. Julie is fed up with Jake's obnoxious behavior. Julie huffs into the kitchen. Jake glides in all smiles. They argue in hushed tones, becoming silhouettes in the twilight. JULIE: Why are you acting like such an ass? JAKE: You’re in a bit of an uproar. I was just making conversation. JULIE: You’re being a jerk! JAKE: Many would say that is my normal behavior. I’m turning over a new leaf, though. If at first you don’t succeed. JULIE: Mind your own business. JAKE: You don’t think it’s strange, your ex boyfriend hanging around pointing out the location of your childhood scars? Ha, that’s right. Got the lowdown from your family. Even your friends think something’s not right between you two. JULIE: No one’s talking to me about it. JAKE: Maybe you’re a little touchy. . JULIE: First of all it’s a small town. You never escape your past in a tiny place like this. Second, I invited him. Not that I owe you an explanation. I don’t know why you care. And third, since when do you gossip with my girlfriends and family? JAKE: Gossip? He’s up to no good. I don’t trust him. JULIE: You don’t have to trust him. JAKE: He’s trying to jump your bones. It's so obvious. Julie stares flatly. JAKE: Just sayin’. JULIE: And I want it. Okay? I want him to take me and- JAKE: Oh! Oh! You do not. I can’t believe you said that. Jake grabs a family photo of Julie, the kids and Jeff - one of many family photos all over the house. JAKE: This is your husband, your kids, right? Julie doesn't respond. JAKE: So that means yes. Ok, well, he looks a little overly khaki like he’s tied to his phone and takes it up the back-end from his boss all day, but aside from that but he doesn't look half bad. And the kids. Think of the kids. JULIE: Why don’t you just fix the fence or whatever you’re here to do? JAKE: I’m an expert in ruining relationships. JULIE: No. You? Other peoples’, or your own? JAKE: Ha. Funny. Tif hates me because I’m a horrible person. Everybody knows that. It hardly counts as an insult. This family is like being dropped into some fairy-tale. For you to do this is wrong. JULIE: Since when do you have morals? JAKE: You leave yours at home? JULIE: How do you know I had any in the first place? I could be a slut. You don’t know. JAKE: Ha. No, no no. I know a slut when I see one. You're trying to be a slut. Don't be a slut. Jake points again at the family picture, pleading. JAKE: Think of the children. Berta walks in, all business. BERTA: You have got to get it together young lady. Your father is starting to worry, and you know how he gets. Jake nods vehemently. Berta busies herself with dishes, turning on a light. JAKE: See? Worried. Exactly, Mom. JULIE: Mom? This is my family. BERTA: Everyone is family when they’re here. You know that. JAKE: Thanks, Mom. That’s why I love you guys. He gloats. BERTA: He’s got more sense than you right now. JAKE: (displays the picture and whispers) Think of the children. Julie swats at JAKE. He dodges, amused. BERTA: Marriage isn't easy. JAKE: Can I get a witness! BERTA: You wouldn't know. But neither is divorce. The grass isn't as green on the other side as you might think. And you've got those kids to think about. JAKE: Mhmmm. Mhmmmm. BERTA: Either way, you’re a big girl and you make your own choices. All I ask is a little plausible deniability. Don’t do it right under my nose. I've got to pass the straight face test with Jeff. JAKE: Appalling! JULIE: Hypocrite. He gestures to his physique, poses, showing his hot bod. JAKE: See this? JULIE: What. JAKE: This! You see it? JULIE: Yeah. JAKE: You see it. JULIE: I see it. JAKE: New leaf, baby. You should try it. JULIE: I am.