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INT. SIMPSON'S HOME – DAY HOMER SIMPSON lounges on a couch, surrounded by empty beer cans. His gut slightly sticks out from the bottom of his trademark white polo. A football game plays on TV. THE TV: An animated QUARTERBACK breaks through the defense and rushes up the field. Homer sits up, nervously BITES HIS FINGERNAILS. HOMER: Go, go, go! TV ANNOUNCER: And he's tackled at the one! HOMER: D'oh! Oh well, time for another beer. INT. SIMPSON'S KITCHEN – DAY INSIDE THE FRIDGE: DARKNESS. The door swings open. Homer sifts through leftovers, grabs a piece of fried chicken, takes a bite and sets it back inside. He finally find what he's looking for: The last can of Duff Beer. KITCHEN COUNTER – Homer sets the beer down. He takes his finger and tries to lift the tab – nothing happens. He tries again – his finger slips. Homer looks at his nails – all chewed up from the intense football game. HOMER: Stupid nails. Homer digs through a drawer. He pulls out a spoon. He digs it into the can and pushes down HARD. PLOP – the spoon flies in the hair, nails Homer right in the eye. HOMER: D'oh! MOMENTS LATER – Homer with a black eye, desperate to have this beer. A drop of drool pours from his lip. HOMER: Bart! No answer. HOMER: Lisa! Marge! No answer. Homer hears a GIGGLE and spins around. MAGGIE sits in her high chair, easily PLOPS open her baby bottle and guzzles the formula down. HOMER ( high-pitched): Hello little Maggie-waggie. MOMENTS LATER: Maggie plays with the can of beer. Losing interest, she simply tosses it to the ground. The beer FIZZES and spills everywhere. Homer drops to the ground – about to lap up the beer with his tongue. A foot steps in front of him. VOICE: Homey? Homer looks up, it's Marge. HOMER: Maggie did it. INT. MOE'S TAVERN – NIGHT TWO HOURS LATER. Homer sits at the bar as Moe serves him a freshly poured mug of Duff beer. MOE: Sorry pal, fresh out of the good stuff. It's Duff Lite. HOMER: D'oh. Note: Added the bonus scene to cap it all off.

INT – CARE HOME – PRIVATE ROOM - DAY MARGARET HOPE (97) lies in bed, withered, frail, diaphanous. Minutes away from her final breath, she stares into space, her eyes fixed on an audience no-one else can see. A nurse tips a glass up to her lips and a few drops moisten her arid mouth. MARGARET: Ermmhhmm, sstttaa, hussay.. INT – CARE HOME – CORRIDOR – DAY FELICITY HOPE (63) proud, capable, alpha female, weeping, hurries through the maze of corridors to find her mother’s room. As she turns a corner she is met by the home Adminstrator exiting from another room. ADMINISTRATOR: Mrs Hope, so glad we managed to get hold of you, don’t stop - I’ll walk with you, time is short. If there’s anything you want to tell your mother, anything you ever wanted to say, then now is the time. It will help you afterwards. FELICITY: (ashen faced, nods) Thank-you. They reach Margaret’s room, the Administrator ushers Felicity through the door and, with a look at the nurse they both exit the room leaving Felicity alone with her mother. INT – CARE HOME – PRIVATE ROOM - DAY Felicity cups her mother’s face and bends down to kiss her on the forehead. FELICTY: Hi Mum, I.... Felicity breaks down sobbing, her shoulders heaving with the relief of pent up sorrow held back by her strength for the sake of her family. Quickly regaining her composure she sits down on the edge of the bed and strokes her mother’s arm reassuringly. FELICITY: Oh Mum, can you hear me? Does that feel okay? Shall I lie down with you? I’m going to lie down with you, okay. There’s something I need to tell you, something I haven’t been able to say for a very long time. But I want to say it. I need to say it. Margaret’s lips move slightly but no sound can be heard, her eyes remain fixed on the same spot. Felicity wets her finger from the water cup and rubs it on her mother’s lips. She climbs onto the bed, cradling her mum like a child, their faces a few inches apart. FELICITY: (taking a deep breath) That feels good, doesn’t it. Just like when I used to creep into your bed as a kid. You’re going to meet up with Dad, Mum. I can just see the look on his face when you walk into the room. “ Welcome home ‘My girl’ ” he’ll say. Mum, I hope you can hear me, I really l.... Margaret suddenly retches, her body convulsing gently, she vomits small globules of thick black bile onto the pillow. The rise and fall of her chest gets shallower, Felicity lets out a sob as she sees her mother’s eyes close. She hugs her mum even harder. FELICITY: I’m not letting you go, you can’t. Not now, not yet. Don’t leave me, don’t leave all of us. Please mum. (rocking her gently) Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go. I.... Gently sobbing, Felicity continues to rock her mum long after she has passed away. FELICITY: (eyes shut, whispers) I love you.

I take my hat off to you for the above. Pure genius.

INT. DAYCARE FACILITY - DAY New hire KIMMY-22, is led to the infant changing area by seasoned veteran, MISS MARY-45. Miss Mary opens the gate which separates the toddlers from the infants and lifts the first baby to the changing table. MISS MARY This gate is always closed. No exceptions. When you change the baby, record the status on their chart. Their names are on the binkie clipped to their sleeve. And I know some of this seems obvious, but I have to say it...at no time do you not have physical contact with a baby on the changing table. You never know when they’ll roll over. KIMMY Of course. Miss Mary doesn’t let go of the child until Kimmy steps up to the changing table. Miss Mary smiles at the babies as she leaves the infant area. Kimmy’s shield of confidence comes crashing down when she pulls open the diaper and is hit with the stench of the bowel movement. She gags. Tries her best to regain composure, then dry heaves violently before she drops to her knees and retches in the garbage can with one hand still on the baby’s belly. Kimmy forces herself to her feet to complete the task but in the three seconds it takes her to regain a full standing position, Miss Mary has returned and has the child cleaned off and changed. Miss Mary returns the child back to the play pen and leaves out the gate. She points to the soiled diaper on the changing table. MISS MARY And all the diapers go into the Genie. No exceptions. Kimmy picks up the pen to record the diaper changes on the chart but the pen won’t write. She leaves the infant area to retrieve a new pen and then returns, closes the gate and records the status. She picks up the next baby. Kimmy studies the smiling infant then coyly looks around. She lifts the baby toward her face and sniffs the child’s bottom. All clear. KIMMY Okay, little man. Let’s see if you’re wet. Kimmy unsnaps the child’s shorts and sees the blue line on the diaper indicating wetness. She confidently pulls the diaper open. She pulls a wipe from the warmer, cleans off the child and removes the wet diaper from underneath the infant boy. Miss Mary appears in the doorway with a diaper in her hand. MISS MARY You forgot to close the gate when you came out. Joey got his hands on this and now we have three toddlers with poop in their hair. Miss Mary puts the diaper in the Genie and leaves without another word. Kimmy forces herself to focus, reaches for a diaper for the boy and as she lifts him by his feet to slide in another diaper, the boy begins to urinate in his own face. Kimmy grabs a spit rag and dries off the child. She then uses the same rag to wipe away her tear. The baby jabbers at her and she smiles. KIMMY This will just be our little secret.

INT. BASKETBALL ARENA - NIGHT A MAN stands at half-court. Halftime of a basketball game. CHEERLEADERS hold up a banner: “Shoot 3 for $3000!!!” Cheering SPECTATORS quiet down to see what happens. A ball bounces up to the Man. He takes several giant steps back. Rushes forward. Leaves his feet at the half-court line and delivers a textbook shot that sails… Over the basket. It clips the top of the backboard and goes straight up in the air. The crowd groans. Another basketball. The man cradles it at his hip. Eyes the basket like Babe Ruth picking his spot at the plate. He pulls away from the line again. Side shuffles back toward it and heaves the ball like a slingshot. It bangs off the backboard square and falls away. More groans from the crowd. One more ball. The Man takes a deep breath. Looks left into the crowd. Sees his WIFE and their young SON smiling at him, willing him to make it. The Son motions with his arms: he wants his dad to attempt a double underhand toss – the classic little kid shot. The Man’s eyebrows furrow with confusion. That can’t possibly work. The Man returns his focus to the basket. Or can it? The Man squats with his toes just behind the line and with the double underhand heaves the ball into the air like the ape in “2001.” It sails for an eternity… A good spin brings it down softly on the front of the rim. It bounces up. Touches the right side of the rim and hot-potatoes to the other side. It teeters. So does the crowd. Go in, go in, go in… But it turns out at the last moment and falls with a thud. The Man’s head falls into his chest as a buzzer goes off. Feeling everyone’s eyes on him, the Man quickly shakes hands with the contest officials and shuffles back into the bleachers. He receives pity pats from spectators as he marches up to his family. The Wife hugs him closes and whispers in his ear. She kisses him and the Man nods. He looks down at the Son. The boy is smiling. SON: Almost, Dad. The Man smiles, picks up the boy. MAN: Yeah. Almost. They hug. FIN

INT. MULTIVERSE COMMAND AND CONTROL CENTER. YAHWEH stands in the gallery overlooking the most unimaginably ginormous hall. A call centre, stretching to infinity. Workstations as far as the eye can see. At each, DEITIES peer at monitors. YAHWEH gets shown to his workstation by VENUS. He’s distracted around her. Can hardly take his eyes off her numerous attributes. VENUS Alright, first time’s a charm, Yahweh. Everything you need’s set up. Just plug in your constants, press ‘start’ and let’s see what happens. Yahweh cracks his, well, the knuckle-like components of a couple of his appendages. Venus winces. VENUS Keep that up, and you’ll get osteo-tentaclitis. When you’re ready. Yahweh types frantically. Characters whizz across the monitor. Suddenly, he stops. His nostrils flare fully open and he chuffs a breath. An appendage hovers over pad with an icon on it that looks like an explosion. He pushes it. Like a slot machine, icons roll and tumble across his monitor, lining up one by one. The image stills, fades. We see an explosion, a Big Bang, brilliant, spectacular. And just as quickly, a Big Crunch. Blackness. Nothing. YAHWEH Bugger! VENUS You know where you went wrong? YAHWEH A little heavy on the gravity. VENUS Rookie error. Reset and start over. I’ll be back in an eon. Yahweh sees another apprentice deity waggling an appendage that bears some resemblance to a feather-boa on an antenna. On gossamer wings, Venus wafts over to assist. His expression, well, it could be determined, Yahweh returns his attention to his monitor and starts typing frantically again. Finished, he waits. Gazes at his, well, with imagination, it could be a navel. Orange, whatever it is. Venus wafts back and settles glowingly beside him. VENUS Sorry – took a little longer than I expected. Minor problem with galaxy formation. Too little gravity. Ready to try again? YAHWEH Let’s do it. He pushes the start button again. Icons roll and tumble, settle one by one. Another Big Bang, continuing. VENUS Oh, that looks more promising. Let’s go take a look, shall we? EXT. GOO UNIVERSE. Suddenly, all is black. A couple of noises like a splash, then a swish. YAHWEH Ow, bugger! VENUS Let there be light! We see they’re in mucous up to their, well, if they had waists, that’s where the goo would come to. More goo drips onto them from somewhere above. Yahweh seems to be jumping around, clutching a tentacle. VENUS Are you injured, Yahweh? YAHWEH Uh-huh. Twisted my tentie. VENUS Oh, dear. Venus swivels her myriad eyes around on their stalks. Fold her ears in half in disgust. VENUS This doesn’t seem particularly promising anyway. Had enough? YAHWEH Yep, get me out of... INT. MULTIVERSE COMMAND AND CONTROL CENTER. Before he can finish, they’re back at his workstation, dripping goo. Another moment, Venus wags a digit, and the goo is gone. VENUS Alright, you know the drill. Take your time. We have eternity. Third time lucky. YAHWEH And if I don’t get it right, Ganesh gets to go next. VENUS Oh, yes – I suppose it must be his turn. Mars is off again at anger camp, so you could take over his station until he gets back. I’m sure his denizens wouldn’t mind a little peace and quiet for a while. Excuse me an era. Venus wafts off to attend a bright pink flamingo-like deity. Yahweh’s determined now. Types with a vengeance. Finished, he looks at the sky above. Perfect. Not a cloud to be seen. Looks around at his colleagues. Some look supremely bored. One seems to be sleeping. He folds a couple of tentacles and rests his cranium on them. Venus returns to find him asleep. She puckers up to whistle, but it comes out a horrendous shriek. He jolts awake, startled. VENUS Ready? He pushes the start button. Icons roll and tumble. A Big Bang, continuing. VENUS Advance a hundred million years? He types and proto-galaxies are forming. VENUS Go forward a billion? Stars, planets are evident from a quick survey. EXT. HOT PLANET. Venus and Yahweh arrive on a world being torn apart by vulcanism. VENUS It’s far from perfect, but you can tinker with it and see what happens in a few billion years, or hand the whole thing over to Ganesh to start over. Your choice. Yahweh looks around at his flawed creation. A little, well, it could be a grin. YAHWEH I’ll take it. The End.

OVER BLACK A clock ticks. A chair pulls up. A folder opens. Faded office sounds in the background. A VOICE: strong, smooth and eminently listenable. We don’t know who this guy is but we’d listen to him read the phone book. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) Let me tell you a lawyer joke... FADE IN ON: CHRISTIAN BOYD 29. A lone wolf. Slick. Handsome. Intense. An edge of danger. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) ...A kid asks a lawyer why he went to law school. INT. LAW OFFICE CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY Across the highly polished conference table is GIL FERNAL. 30s. Glasses. Bad suit. A schmuck if there ever was one. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) He says: what a great question. Why do you think I went to law school? Christian slides a piece of paper across the table to Fernal. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) The kid says: I donno. For money? (beat) The lawyer says no. Fernal opens the paper, raises an eyebrow. He leans over to his clients: SYMPATHETIC HUSBAND and SYMPATHETIC WIFE. Both 40s. Both Black. Both dishevelled, exhausted but dignified. CHRISTIAN (V.O) The kid goes, you did it for power? The lawyer says no. Sympathetic Husband and Sympathetic Wife look at the piece of paper. They look to each other. Mouths agape. Their confusion apparent from their expression. They turn to Fernal. CHRISTIAN (V.O) So the kid thinks a moment. Fernal puts a reassuring hand on Sympathetic Wife’s arm. A tear rolls down her cheek. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) Then another. FERNAL It’s the best you’ll get. Trust me. SYMPATHETIC WIFE Trust you? CHRISTIAN (V.O.) Then the kid smiles - 'cause he’s got this - so all excited he says to the lawyer: you did it for the prestige of the legal vocation. Sympathetic Husband beats a hand on the table. Looks at Fernal. Then Christian. SYMPATHETIC HUSBAND This is bullcrap. You said we’d get more than this. You’re full of shit Gil. This won’t even cover our legal bills. CHRISTIAN (V.O.) The lawyer says: No. I went to help people. Sympathetic Husband turns to Christian, seething with rage. SYMPATHETIC HUSBAND (disgusted) One thousand dollars? Our son is dead and this is the best you can do? Christian is unflappable. CHRISTIAN That is the value my client places on your lawsuit and on your son's life. CHRISTIAN (V.O) The kid laughs.

Woops, focused on three failed attempts and misread the hero part. Let's just say for this scene the kid in the joke is the hero, and finding out why the lawyer went to law school is his goal. lol.

Lots of great scenes, loving this contest! ==================================== INT. KITCHEN - DAY TONY SOPRANO appears in his lavish kitchen, dressed in a silk robe, rubbing his chin and smacking his lips. Bending into the refrigerator, he pulls out a loaf of bread and some jam. Moving to the counter behind him, he slips two slices of bread from the packet and slides them into the toaster, dropping the lever on the side. He turns to the jam jar and picks it up, twisting the top. Nothing. TONY Fuck! He tries turning the lid, but it won't budge. He slams it down on the counter next to the toaster. TONY Motherfucking strawberry... He moves to the other side of the kitchen, searching through drawers. After a serious rummage he pulls out a small, rubber jar opener to grip the lid, spits on his hands and grabs the jar again. TONY Okay son, this time... He twists, hard. Nothing. TONY What the fu...? He looks around the kitchen, slamming the jam down again, next to the toaster. TONY What do I have to do to get a bit of fucking Jam in this place? He raises a fist at the jar in a threatening manner. TONY Okay shit-stick, you wanna dance? He pads out of the kitchen. A moment passes. He storms back in, a large, shiny, violent looking pistol in his hand. The gun flies up at the jam jar. TONY Fuck you! BANG! TONY Motherfucker. BANG! BANG! Tony's hand drops, the smoke settles. He picks up the jam jar. The lid has been blown off, cleanly, this guy is an ace shot! TONY I'm the fucking daddy! He puts the jar down and swivels back to the toaster... ...which has two large, smoking holes in the side. TONY Oh for... POP! With it's last breath, the toaster ejects a cloud of disintegrated bread crumbs, metal and screws. TONY Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhhh! CARMELA SOPRANO (O.S) (shouting) Can someone please go and help you father... he's making toast again!

EXT. CARNIVAL - NIGHT The carnival is a buzz with young lovers eating funnel cake, carrying large stuffed animals and, most of all, having fun together. A rickety roller coaster ROARS by the crowd. The bell from The Hammer Game RINGS. CARNIE 1 We have a winner! Carnie 1 grabs a large stuffed Panda and hands it to a STRONG MAN who, in turn, hands it to a BEAUTIFUL GIRL. She takes it, gives her boyfriend a kiss. They walk off together laughing. Aimlessly bouncing through the myriad of sweethearts like an unmanned bumper car is JERRY, early 20'S, a little gawky, hasn't quite grown into his age yet. His eyes follow the joy others are having. A COUPLE walks by nearly knocking Jerry over with their stuffed animal. He spins a bit and comes to a stand still. Time seems to freeze all around him. The crowd seems to part for Jerry as he catches a glimpse of a TRUE BEAUTY, also 20's, an angel with a softball in hand. True Beauty rears back and chucks her last ball at the pyramid of milk bottles striking a bottom bottle, but the bottles barely move. TRUE BEAUTY Mother Fucker! The MILK BOTTLE CARNIE shrugs his shoulders in a sorry-but-I-really-don't- give-a-crap kind of way. TRUE BEAUTY This shit is rigged, Asshole! Bottle Carnie just smiles. She turns to leave. Jerry speeds through the "sex and candy" to save the distraught maiden. He slows his roll just before she sees him. He winks, jerks his chin up to the Carnie and produces a dollar from his windbreaker. She stops. He has her attention. He takes off his jacket, stretches his arms and shoots True Beauty another assuring look. He points to the biggest stuffed Flamingo you've ever seen hanging on the side of the game booth. Jerry grabs the three balls from the counter, dropping two on the ground. M.B. CARNIE You can just put the other balls here. JERRY I know. I got it. He places two balls down. Jerry focuses, winds up and let's the ball fly... right past the bottles, ricocheting toward the carnie. It hits him in the thigh. M.B. CARNIE What the hell? JERRY My bad. Jerry tries to play it cool with True Beauty. She smiles, flirts a bit. He wasn't expecting that, has to gather himself a moment. JERRY (pointing to himself) Jerry. She raises an eyebrow. He stretches his arms forward, grabs the next ball, winds up and let's it go... It hits the table, the bottles wobble, but settle back. JERRY Fucking thing is rigged. He turns for her confirmation. TRUE BEAUTY That's what I said, Jerry. (to M.B. Carnie) See, Asshole. The Carnie just smiles again. JERRY I got this. He turns back to the game, focused. Points to the Flamingo, points to the bottles, points at the Carnie, grabs the last ball. Behind Jerry's back a BIGASS DUDE walks up to True Beauty. He kisses her neck, she giggles a bit. They walk off, she grabs his ass. JERRY (to M.B. Carnie) You might as well grab that birdie now, because it is coming home with ... He turns, looks for True Beauty. The crowd of people swarm past him making it impossible for him to see where she went. M.B. CARNIE (sarcastic) Gee, didn't see that coming. He turns back, grips the ball tight and chucks it with all his might... but misses again. Devastated, Jerry turns away. M.B.CARNIE Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where you going big fella? You still get to take home a prize. He turns back, vindicated. JERRY Oh, Yeah? What'd I win? The Carnie reaches down behind the counter. M.B. CARNIE Your choice between two birds. (Shows one middle finger) You can have this one... (Shows the other) Or, this one. Jerry dives across the counter and tackles the Carnie into the table of milk bottles. The entire pyramid of bottles fall, stuck together, to the ground next to Jerry and the Carnie. They both stare at the rigged set of bottles. CUT TO: Jerry walks through the happy carnival couples, dragging the Flamingo through the dirt behind him.

INT. LATE NIGHT. TEAK PANELED STUDY. LAMP SPOTLIGHT ON LARGE DESK NIKHIL 20-ish, fresh faced, private school product. RAJU Corpulent middle-aged, born idle rich. NIKHIL (knocks, waits at the door with sheaf of papers) May I come in, sir? RAJU (seated at the desk, magnifying glass in hand, examining stamps, picking them out from a heap of assorted stamps) Hmm(waves him in imperiously) NIKHIL The board papers, sir. Your signatures where I’ve marked X. RAJU (unconcerned) Yeah, yeah, right. Just watch this… what a beauty (holds red wafer stamp to light at an angle) NIKHIL The Scinde Dawk. The first stamp to be issued in British India, circa 1852…. RAJU You know that?! NIKHIL (holds back anger, clenched fists. voice unemotional) I do. The old man was something of a stamp collector… RAJU (unhearing, engrossed in the stamp and lens again) Yeah? NIKHIL Some other time RAJU I’d better get those done. (Reaches for the papers, signs mechanically. Nikhil turns sheaf over, gets them signed, and while picking up the bunch also slips in the rare stamp) NIKHIL (turns to leave with papers) Right sir. Your driver has been instructed to be here at 7 AM. RAJU: Just one moment—let me see that agreement I just signed. NIKHIL (slips stamp back on desk) Here, sir RAJU That file of the minutes—you got that? What exactly did that man Chopra say when we talked about the land deal? NIKHIL In a minute. (Fetches file from rack, flips open pages, places it before Raju) Here RAJU (reads page from file) Hmm. Just as I thought. The man didn’t say anything much. Just creating so much drama now. NIKHIL A photocopy’s in your board papers, sir. (removes file from desk and deftly slips in stamp) RAJU Smart! Think of everything, don’t you? NIKHIL Not at all, sir. (moves towards the file cabinet away from Raju, opens the file and stares at the stamp, touches it reverentially) RAJU (yawns, stares at the spread of stamps before him) Better get all these put away. Where’s that damn stamp now? NIKHIL (quickly pushes the B&W photo of the firm’s founder off the wall) OMG ! The nail’s given away… RAJU rushes to examine the photo, brushes away at glass shards NIKHIL (Quickly slips the stamp back into the heap, picks up a newspaper and proceeds to collect the glass) I’ll take care of it, sir. Why don’t you get some rest. Ten minutes later, NIKHIL is moving about, putting back papers, arranging files etc. He’s left the stamps for last, so he can slip the Dawk out. Time is 1 AM. He puts away stamps in an album, just then RAJU returns RAJU Forgot my specs. And I’ll lock these in the safe. Just in case.

INT. BANK VAULT ENTRANCE. DAY A black cap. Underneath, JOON raises his head and unveils his black, almond shaped, determined and sharp as a sword eyes. If his friends would only change his nickname from bullhead to stealth, it would make sense. But they wouldn't. If front of him- THE VAULT'S DOOR, thick, unbreakable, guarded by a high end lock system. But he's the best. JOON (To himself): I'm the best. And he can do this. JOON (CONT'D)(To himself): I can do this. He raises his arm, bringing his watch in front of his eyes. CLICK. Three minutes and counting down. Joon puts one end of a stethoscope in his ears and the other against the door. His face gets close to the door as he closes his eyes. His left hand holds the stethoscope while his right hand gently caresses the door. He then turns the numbered wheel a quarter of the way left, then a half turn right. CLICK. He opens his eyes with a smile. He reaches into his bag and brings out a small magnetic device. He places it where his hand was and pushes the button on the device's butt. CLUNG CLUNG CLUNG. A noise resonates from within the door, an ALARM SOUND bursts through the room and a jail gate falls from the roof, closing the way out behind Joon. JOON: Damn it. He places the stethoscope back on the door, closes his eyes again but this time a twitch agitates his eyelids. He caresses the door again although his movements are faster and less assured. VOICE (O.S)(Screaming): Hey, what happened? He stops, brings the device back on the door and pushes the button again. Nothing. Outside the improvised jail, a hooded man looks at Joon. He is GUM. GUM: Aren't you supposed to turn the wheel thingy at some point? Joon hits the door in anger. JOON: Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Gum turns around under the distant noise of police car sirens. GUM: Fuck, we gotta get outta here. He runs out of the room as Joon resets himself, stethoscope in place. GUM (O.S): Bear, get your ass down there, worm is stuck in the jail. His entire face jolts with twitches as he now hit the door with his fist in different places around the lock. He breathes hard as two hooded men, Gum and BEAR run back to the jail door. Bear brings out a backpack size magnetic device as Joon brings his smaller one against the door. The man outside the jail types on a miniature keyboard, the man inside turns the lock left and right. Bear pushes a button, the jail door opens. Joon, pushes the device's button- CLUNG CLUNG CLUNG, door closes again. BANG, a gunshot resonates upstairs. VOICE (In the distance): Police, get on the floor! GUM: Fuck! He runs out. Bear types on the keyboard again like crazy, hits the button. The door opens. BEAR: Come on, let's get out. Joon stands up, puzzled. He looks at the lock then at bear. BEAR: What the fuck. Let's go. Joon holds bear's stare for a beat. He's not going. BEAR: Geez. He leaves as the policemen screams get closer. Joon turns around and makes a fist, staring at the door in fury. He moves closer, raises his arm and scream, ready to hit the door. He STOPS a few centimetres away, breathing hard and landing his forehead against the door. He slowly regains composure as the noise of men running down the stares engulfs the room. His fists morph into a soft hand which he poses gently against the door. His entire body slides down until his ear, stethoscope free, reaches the area near the lock. He caresses the door. Noises of people surrounding him muffle away. He is calm as people scream all around him. He turns the lock right, then left. Guns are now surrounding his head but all seems so far away. He brings the magnetic device against the door. Presses the button. CUT TO BLACK

Posting this for Brian Gallagher: INT. BAR - NIGHT BRIGHT RED fills the frame, as we slowly PULL BACK to see the red of a DART BOARD BULLSEYE. We ANGLE IN on KEVIN, 24, determined, focused, one DART in his right hand, the remaining two in his left. TUCKER (O.S.) Just need one little bullseye... KEVIN (snippy) I'm well aware, Tuck. Tucker, 26, cocky, approaches, slapping Kevin on the shoulder, before taking a swig of BEER. TUCKER Well, get on with it then. Kevin takes a deep breath, raises his right hand with precision, takes aim, and lets his first dart fly. THUNK... The surrounding crowd goes mildly wild. The dart rests JUST outside the METAL RIM protecting that ruby red target, the BULLSEYE. Kevin sighs. Tucker laughs. TUCKER So close, but yet so, SO far away. Kevin says nothing, sliding the second DART into his right hand, raising his arm, taking aim for a beat longer than the last throw, then... THUNK... The semi-drunken onlookers can't believe it. That can't happen twice in a row, can it? Alas, it can, as Kevin's second DART also rests against the METAL RIM on the crappy side of the BULLSEYE, just inches north of his first DART. TUCKER Oh man! This is intense! Kevin tries to shake it off, JUMPING up and down, stretching, cracking his knuckles, any mundane task he thinks may give him the push he needs past that metal ring of evil. Kevin takes a deep breath, sliding the final dart into his right hand, raising his arm, taking aim... taking aim... taking aim... THUNK... A mediocre wave of pandemonium ensues. Somehow, Kevin managed to place his final DART between the small gap of his first two DARTS... still on the wrong side of that treacherous METAL RIM. Game over. TUCKER Holy shit! That was the closest you've ever come! KEVIN Again, I know, Tuck. TUCKER Pay up! Kevin groans, pulling out his large WALLET, removing a crisp DOLLAR BILL. Tucker snatches it out of Kevin's hand with glee. Kevin shakes his head and smiles. TUCKER Next week? KEVIN You know it. Tucker slams his BEER, SLAPS Kevin on the shoulder, and heads towards the exit. The crowd dissipates. Kevin shakes his head, smiling. KEVIN One of these days, Tuck. One of these days. Kevin grabs his BEER from the nearby TABLE and takes a drink. When he sets his BEER down, he notices a stray DART on the table. Without any aim or hesitation, Kevin LUNGES for the dart like his life depends on it, and swiftly CHUCKS it at the board. THUNK... Kevin LAUGHS. The BARTENDER, LOU walks up to the table with a fresh BEER. LOU A dart late and a dollar short, eh Kev? KEVIN For now, Lou. For now. THE END...

EXT - ZEN GARDEN - DAY Superman meditates in the lotus position opposite a pebble garden. He listens to the susurration of gently trickling water while trying to block out the cacophony of voices that reach his ears as they scream for help in various states of distress and catastrophe. Finally he can stand it no more, as the voice of a weeping female threatening to 'do herself' off the ledge of a fifty floor window pierces his mind. He flies off, grabs the woman and delivers her to a psychiatrist. EXT - ROOF GARDEN - DAY WOMAN: Wow, thanks Superman. I don't know what came over me. SUPERMAN: Next time ma'am, take a diet-coke break, OK? My friend in there will be able to help straighten you out. INT - BAR - NIGHT Superman drowns a beer, fifty three empty pint glasses litter the counter. SUPERMAN: (shouts to no one in particular) Will they not leave me alone, for even just one minute! Superman slams the empty glass down, breaking the entire counter in two and sending the empty glasses flying everywhere. SUPERMAN: Sorry Ray, I'll be back to help you clear up in a minute. Superman flies off to the subway and catches a jumper in mid air above the tracks just as he was about to be splat by an arriving train. He stands him up on the platform as onlookers cheer and clap. SUPERMAN: Shtop being show bloody shellfish. Don't. Do. That. Ever. Again. INT - VOLCANO - NIGHT Enveloped in molten lava, eyes closed, Superman appears to be asleep. His lips are moving slightly, we hear the thoughts inside his head: ignore the voices, ignore the voices, ignore the voices.... Suddenly his nostrils emit a stream of small bubbles, then large bubbles stream from his mouth. SMASH CUT - VOCANO CRATER A muted roar terrifies the tourists walking round the crater, who think it is going to erupt. Milliseconds later Superman bursts through the crater, leaving a burning trail of lava in his wake and flies off.... INT - PUBLIC RESTROOM - NIGHT Superman crashes through the door to the male restroom and locates a closed cubicle from which a piercing banshee wail is emanating. Using X-ray vision - inside he sees a man with his testicles caught in his zipper. He checks to make sure there’s no one else in the room and then collapses in a heap of laughter, before quietly tiptoeing out. SUPERMAN: (outside restroom, to himself) I got halfway there, at least. PREVIOUS DAY INT - PSYCHIATRIST OFFICE - DAY PSYCHIATRIST: Let’s review what you’ve told me so far, Superman. You feel over burdened with responsibility, you can’t switch the voices off in your head and you can’t resist the adoration of the public every time you respond to their pleas for help. This is having a bad impact on your love-life as your.. He cuts off mid-sentence as Superman disappears for just half a second, enough to stop the shrink mid flow. PSYCHIARTIST: I guess you just saved a life there? SUPERMAN: No, I was dying to take a shit. Sorry. PSYCHIATRIST: As I was saying, your love-life is non-existant because your love interest always comes second best. You need to wean yourself off the hero worship. Starting tomorrow, I want you to find somewhere peaceful and do absolutely nothing.

The talent on this blog is too damn high!

EXT. CAMPUS - DAY University campus - towering works of arts for buildings and a great layout. Students and lecturers hurry their separate ways. ANDY, (20's), a scruffy pain in the ass scans the throng, in hopes of landing a date to a formal that weekend. Zooming in on a hurried PRETTY BRUNETTE, he smiles, and falls into step with her. ANDY Kiera, hi! KIERA barely spares him a glance, lengthens her strides. KIERA Yes Andy? ANDY Just wondering if you'd - you know, like the chance to spend some time with me. An asshole from birth, this leopard ain't changing those spots. Kiera turns to him now. KIERA (feigned pleasure) Really? Andy's chest puffs out considerably. ANDY Well, yes! Her expression turns cold. KIERA Never knew I had so little to do with my time! So delivered, she stalks away, leaving him in his surprise. Not one to be dissuaded, he moves on to the next target, a BLOND BOMBSHELL taking a run. He sprints over, runs along with her. ANDY Hi! I'm... BLOND - Know exactly who you are, not interested in what you've got to say. (pins him with her gaze) Deal? ANDY Right! (falling back) Well, nice meeting you too. The BLOND runs on. A discouraged Andy looks around, hoping the third time'll be the charm. This time, a NERDY REDHEAD walks by. Rolling his eyes in resignation, he saunters over. ANDY (cockily) How about a date with ME this weekend? The REDHEAD regards him for a second, and holds up the middle finger. REDHEAD Blow me! Then walk on with renewed vigor. A totally defeated Andy retires to his dorm room with visions of a sucking weekend in his head.

INT. SUBURBAN HOME - DAY Laughter, conversation, utensils clinking together. Must be a party. Sure enough, sitting in the center of attention is HARRIET (67), sporting a ridiculous cone-shaped hat with pink glitter spelling out “Birthday Girl!” HARRIET No no, I’m sure. Just let me know when the tri-tip is done. She waits as they all shuffle out to the back patio. The second her butt hits the couch, her exhaustion is obvious. The remote in hand, she pushes aside the mountain of open presents and wrapping littering her view of the tv. Shoving aside the last wrapper she GASPS. She’s not alone. Sitting patiently in front of the tv, legs crossed, hands behind his back, is PHINEAS (8). HARRIET You’re so quiet. You need anything Phin? He eyes the mountain of presents. Expensive store bought gifts, exquisite wrapping paper, everything shiny and new. Behind his back, Phineas crushes a homemade, brightly painted popsicle stick figure wrapped in a shoelace. PHINEAS Nothing. Um. I just need something from my room. He scurries from the room, concealing his smashed gift. HARRIET Ok honey. Gramma is just gonna watch her shows for a bit and relax. PHIN’S ROOM The door closes and Phineas’ eyes go wide. He’s scans the contents of his room. Inspiration strikes. Quickly he’s piecing things together, his head barely moving as his arms grab unseen components. He ever so slowly lowers a flag onto the top. Just right. The masterpiece is done. LIVING ROOM Phin’s work fits perfectly in the cleared space on the coffee table in front of Harriet. He stands back, happy with the placement. It’s a LEGO castle, complete with turrets, archers, and a working gate. Phineas’ stick figure man (repaired with generous amounts of tape) stands on the castle wall, a small toothpick for a sword. He looks to his grandma for a reaction. Nothing. Her eyes are fixed forward, over his creation, on the television. Phineas’ face moves quickly from confusion to understanding. He looks at the castle and nods. He’ll have to do better. PHIN’S ROOM His little hands move furiously again. This time there’s glue, an erector set, and what looks like wires. He leaves the room briefly, coming back in with something softball sized. The last component. LIVING ROOM The centerpiece is a giant potato. Radiating around it are spires, fanning out, attached with wires. They’re all sticking out of a styrofoam cooler. Small hands slide more of the wrapping paper out of the way and push a wire into the potato. Little LED lights on the end of the spires start to glow and spell out: H A P P Y B I R T H D Y G R A N D A It mostly works. The stick figure stands at the base, pointing up at the message. Grandma’s eyes still fixate on the tv. Phineas looks behind him to see what’s on. Mixed martial arts. The flying kick looked painful. Phineas’ face scrunches up. He bends over to look at the lettering on his creation and nods his head again. Of course. He unplugs it. PHIN’S ROOM Those hands are at it again. Glue, tape, legos, action figures, they all go flying as he works his magic. He leaves again, returning with a bottle of something clear. BACK PATIO Adults laugh and drink beer, their backs to the large gas bbq. Small hands reach up and abscond with a box of easy light matches. LIVING ROOM Phineas wipes sweat from his forehead. This is the one. Hands place an army action figure into a small red race car. A pink-haired troll doll drops into the driver’s seat of a tiny black porsche. Phineas stands. Determined and focused, he draws dark lines under his eyes with a tube of lipstick. This is serious business. HSSSSS. He strikes a match, setting it to the top of his creation. Arms akimbo, he pulls the triggers on two remote controls. The cars rev to life, carrying their passive passengers at rapid speeds. BOOM, the cars hit ramps on either sides of the presents. They’re airborne, twisting in the air. They arc through space, meeting in the middle, only an inch from each other as they fly through a RING OF FIRE. The cars hit the platform, causing a curtain below the flaming ring to drop. A photo of Harriet is revealed. Her smiling face below her new flaming halo of twine and sticks. Phineas throws his arms out in a TA DA pose. And waits. Harriet stares forward, unblinking and unfazed by the spectacle. Phineas straightens. He stares at his grandmother. He doesn’t move, even as the troll doll’s hair, now aflame, melts the Porsche. It’s not until the fire spreads to the photograph that he snaps out of it. He reaches to his feet, pulling up a small fire extinguisher. FSSSHHHHHHH. The whole area is covered in the chalky dust. Phineas quickly grabs the photo. CRASH. A woman stands opened mouth, a bottle of beer oozing its contents at her feet. She looks from the mess of residue covering the presents on the table, to Phineas holding a smoldering photo of Harriet, to him pointing a fire extinguisher at his grandmother. HARRIET Did you drop something dear? Her head turned, she looks at the troubled woman. HARRIET I was just napping. Did I miss something? She turns back to Phineas, who smiles sheepishly.

INT. PHARMACY - NIGHT In a large convenience store/pharmacy during the late night hours. A clock on the all reads 3:46 a.m. WALTER (50's) storms in wearing a SKI-MASK and brandishing a GUN. No one cares, simply because no one is around. The store's HOLIDAY MUSIC taunts him. He attempts to pocket the gun. He ends up dropping it. He looks around for it, but the mask has hindered his vision. WALTER mutters to himself as he spins in quick circles attempting to find his piece. He lifts his ski-mask just enough to use the mouth hole instead of the poorly crafted eye holes. WALTER It's always something, damn it! His hand reaches the gun. He flings his head up. Nobody. He pulls his mask back down and moves quickly down the main stretch. He passes an aisle where a WORKER is hard at work, stocking shelves with HEADPHONES in. He rounds the corner and lifts his gun, anticipating the front counter. More aisles and products. The CHRISTMAS JINGLES fill his head. Walter looks up and carefully scans the AISLE IDENTIFIERS until his eyes reach CHECK-OUT, on a FAR WALL. WALTER Now we're talking. He sneaks his way closer. Another customer has entered the store and takes the short way unnoticed by Walter. This customer big and fat. Walter is in an aisle just beyond the check-out counter. He notices BUGLES are on sale. He lifts a bag, but sets it down. Behind him, the WORKER passes by pushing a cart of overstock. Neither see the other. Walter peaks out and sees he check-out counter. He thrusts himself out, almost directly into the chest of the customer. Walter yelps from fright but regains composure. WALTER Get back there! Get behind the counter! The customer listens as Walter guides him with the gun. WALTER Open the regi-- CUSTOMER I don't work here! Please I don't! I came to buy cigarettes. Walter looks at the man, and sees he's telling the truth. Walter looks around, looks down nearby aisles, attempting to find SOMEONE who works there. He drops his gun for a second, turns back to the counter, and puts it up at the Customer once more. WALTER Shit. Well look at the computer, find a way to open the drawer. The customer does as he's told, looking at the register, pushing buttons. CUSTOMER It. It says I need a log-in. I swear. Walter has spent too much time in the store and he's getting nervous. WALTER Where the hell is everyone!? Customer service... my ass. The customer nervously laughs. CUSTOMER I don't shop here. WALTER Shut it! Give me that bag! Walter, giving up, grabs handful after handful of check-out candy/chips. He's heading for the door. He stops. He turns around. He jogs back, grabs the BUGLES and throws them in the bag. He briskly exits.