[…] July is Scene-Writing Month here at Go Into The Story. Every Monday-Friday at noon Eastern / 9AM Pacific, I will upload a post with a prompt for writing a script scene. Each day, write a scene per those guidelines. If you really …read more […]

SCENE THREE INT. SCREENED-IN PORCH – AFTERNOON JERRY and MARIE sit across from each other at a quaint, flawlessly decorated porch table. There are fancy place settings and dinnerware, but no food. They speak in hushed, but heated tones. JERRY: How do you think it makes me look, Marie, when you’re out gallivanting around town with him when I’m away on business? MARIE (laughing): Gallivanting? Really, Jerry? I’m allowed to gallivant with whomever I please. JERRY: Well, I’d rather you not go to candle lit dinners with another man. I don’t think that’s too much to ask of your wife. MARIE: Oh don’t be so dramatic. Would you feel better if I told you he were gay? JERRY (with surprised relief): He’s gay? MARIE: No, he’s not gay, dumbass. But he could be. Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’m not fucking him. JERRY (loudly): That’s not the goddamn point, Marie! MARIE (raising her voice): Watch your language. I didn’t bitch and moan at you when you spent countless late nights at work with your secretary doing God knows what. JERRY: Because she’s 74! Marie shrugs. JERRY (exasperated): You are unbelievable! I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. He slams his hand down in frustration, and pushes back from the table to stand up. The table shakes and a glass falls to the ground, shattering. The both stare at it, eyes wide, looking nervous. Suddenly, a MAN, wearing pressed khakis and a polo opens the door to the porch. He is livid. MAN: That’s the third time this month. I’m going to have to ask that the two of you no longer shop at The Great Escape. Marie stands, and she and Jerry silently exit the door, pushing past the man. We see that the screened in porch is a display inside of The Great Escape furniture store. MARIE (to Jerry): Someone needs to learn some manners. It’s called customer service. Jerry nods and takes Marie’s hand. They exit, heads held high.

SCENE 3 Meg and Ryan walk in a super market. She’s upset. She throws the groceries into her cart. He’s desperate to get her attention. He begs her to believe her. He: I ran into her. She: How convenient, third time in a row. You two always seem to run into each other----like last time He: don’t go there. That’s water under the bridge. She: some things never change. He: it meant nothing. She: you keep saying that – so you don’t mind if I kiss somebody else. A young man passes by. Meg holds him still and kisses him. The young man doesn’t seem to mind, contrary to Ryan who gets outraged. He: are you fucking out of your mind. The kiss keeps going on. Ryan looks desperate around him. Finally, he grabs Meg at her arm and pulls her away. Her bracelet with pearls, one for each year they’ve been together, spills out onto the floor. She: Oh, my bracelet He: it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a thing She: it’s a divine sign. She cries. She: why would God keep showing me you with her! And now, you’ve broken my bracelet. It’s God who wants me to let now you’re going to break my heart again and again. Some things will never change. He: don’t be so superstitious Meg storms out of the shop, she leaves the groceries behind. He: You can't walk away. We’re getting married this week.

Scene 3: FADE IN: INT. DINING ROOM - EVENING The lights are low. Someone has placed candles around the room. Most of them have almost burnt out. A woman, JENNIFER (30s) sits alone at the table, head down. Her hair covers her face. When she sits up, we can see her mascara has run down her cheeks. Her husband, SCOTT (30s) leans against the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets. He slowly reaches down and picks something up off the floor - a broken picture frame. Scott gently places the frame on the table in front of Jennifer and takes the seat next to hers. Jennifer touches the faces in the picture - the two of them on their wedding day. They are both smiling in the picture as they stare into each others’ eyes. The CRACK in the glass splits right between them. He takes her hand away from the glass and holds it between both of his. SCOTT Can’t we put this behind us? She pulls her hand away from him, shaking her head vehemently. JENNIFER Like we always do, right? ‘Let it go, Jen.’ Move on. Scott sighs. He looks at the candles burning around them. SCOTT I’m sorry you went to all this trouble. It looks like you really went all out. This makes Jennifer chuckle beneath her sobs. JENNIFER (sarcastic) Yeah. Sure. Wish you could have been here. SCOTT And I would have been. Really. I got hung up at work, there’s this project that’s really-- JENNIFER (interrupts) It’s always work, isn’t it? The go-to excuse. She stops crying, gets in his face. JENNIFER (CONT’D) Who is she? Scott doesn’t respond. JENNIFER (CONT’D) What’s her name? He can’t look his wife in the eye. She grabs him by the necktie, pulls him closer. They are eye-to-eye now. JENNIFER (CONT’D) Name? Scott clears his throat. He places his hands on her shoulders. SCOTT It won’t happen again. I swear. I love you. She releases his tie and sits down. Scott removes the tie and stands. He walks around the room, blowing out candles. Jennifer stares at the photo in the broken frame in front of her. She wipes her eyes on a napkin. Scott takes his seat and begins dishing up his meal. She watches Scott for a minute before finally joining him. SCOTT (CONT’D) Smells great, honey. The two of them eat in silence. When they are finished, Jennifer clears the table. She sees the picture frame. Grabbing it, she shoves it into a drawer in the china cabinet. THE END FADE OUT.

SCENE THREE (PROMPT: A lover’s quarrel where something gets broken) -- BLACK -- MONICA: Come on already. JAKE: Hold up, hold up. You can’t rush this — MONICA: Well you’re taking forever. INT. BEDROOM – DAY JAKE (28) and MONICA (26) lie entangled beneath the bed sheets. JAKE: It’s just a little simple navigation — MONICA: Just do it, Jake. Jake sits up in bed and stares at her. MONICA: Oh my god, not again. Please. You can’t keep doing this. JAKE: Again? It’s the act of making love, Monica, not… chess. MONICA: Then stop taking so long to move your pawn. Beat. JAKE: Let me tell you something – MONICA: It’s okay, really. JAKE: -- It’s because of people like this… who just… just decide to ‘do it’, which has made this country the way it is. Monica goes to speak but he jumps back into it. JAKE: I mean, look, I’m not saying we need to be like Lennon and think there can be roses and peace and all that, but from a strictly statistical standpoint, if one is to look to how many babies are born each year out of either wedlock, or one night stands, or however else these children come into the world, perhaps we wouldn’t be the way we are. MONICA: We as in…? JAKE: America, Monica. America. I mean, just think, if every time a person just decided to ‘do it’ they were to become pregnant, how many broken homes would there be? Beat. MONICA: Do you want me to – JAKE: It’s rhetorical because there would be broken homes left and right. That’s why when two people who love each other ‘make love’ rather than just ‘do it’, it off sets the over population of broken homes. Beat. MONICA: Your argument is the only ‘broke’ thing about this conversation, Jake. ‘Doing it’ doesn’t constitute a broken home, or how people live their lives, or anything. Must I remind you how our relationship began? Before he can say anything: MONICA: A one night stand. Therefore, if I were to become pregnant, and we hadn’t ‘made love’, we could potentially become one of those ‘broken homes’. What constitutes in your eyes the difference between ‘making love’ and just ‘doing it’? I love you. Does that mean every time we have sex I need to make love to you? No. Sometimes I just want--such as today: I just wanted you to ‘do it’ because I was in the mood and wanted you but now -- JAKE: Fine! All right. Have it your way. You want me to just ‘do it’? MONICA: Yes! JAKE: Fine! I’ll just do it! Jake awkwardly maneuvers his way on top of Monica and begins to just ‘do it’ as fast and hard as he can. But the end result is just a clumsy, weird, slightly embarrassing show of love making. JAKE: See! Just doing it! You enjoying that? Just doing -- CRACK! – Jake stops – his eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. MONICA: Was that…? JAKE: Oh my god… MONICA: Jake… JAKE: OH MY GOD! Holy, sonova — MONICA: Don’t panic! Don’t panic! We can — JAKE: It’s broken! You broke it! MONICA: I didn’t break — JAKE: It’s broken! Beat. MONICA: Can it really…? JAKE: SURE SEEMS THAT WAY! Beat. MONICA: I should pull the car around. JAKE: GOOD IDEA!

Scene 3 Today’s prompt: A lover’s quarrel where something gets broken [suggested by storymanjake]. EXT. CAFFE MELA - DAY AUSTIN (30) carries his coffee over to where RENEE (25) sits with a iPad and stack of bills on her table. AUSTIN This is a surprise. Renee looks up from her iPad. RENEE Oh. Hi. Yeah I needed to get out. Austin sits. RENEE We need to talk. She holds up their CHECKBOOK. Austin takes a breath. AUSTIN I can explain-- RENEE We talked about this Austin. You promised me. You said you quit. Again. Austin places a bulging manila envelop on the table. AUSTIN Here. RENEE What’s that? AUSTIN I’m sorry… Renee unties the flap, looks inside, tips the envelop until two stacks of hundreds followed by a JEWELED DANCING FIGURINE slide out. RENEE You pawned my mother’s figurine. You’re a bastard. A lying bastard. Renee closes the computer and grabs the figurine. AUSTIN Wait honey-- Austin reaches across the table for Renee. RENEE Don’t. AUSTIN I got it back… and the money… all the money… and more. RENEE It’s not about the money. You lied… again. You promised. Over and over you promised me. AUSTIN I’m a gambler-- RENEE You don’t understand. I accept you gambling. It’s a sickness… But your lying… it’s your lying. AUSTIN I’ll get help. RENEE There’s no help for lying… I’m done. AUSTIN Done? What about our wedding? RENEE You’re married to a rush. A dumb game. I can’t complete. Renee removes her engagement ring, dropping it to the table. Austin grabs her hand, tries to place the ring back on her finger. She pulls away. The ring bounces to the floor. A large foot steps on the ring… CRUNCH. MAN Oh shit… The foot lifts off the shattered ring. Renee looks to the ring, then Austin. She grabs the money, iPad. Storms away. Austin watches. Looks to shocked man. MAN Sorry. You’re fucked. The man walks away.

INT. SUBWAY TRAIN CAR - DAY A packed train car pulls up to a stop. A couple holding hands enters among the throngs of other people. The couple grabs a bar in the middle of the train. The woman, JANE gives the man, PETE a kiss on the cheek. A man, LAWRENCE, looks at Jane. He looks around the rest of the train car at the seats. Old people, old people, old people, teenage girl. A TEENAGE GIRL lounges with headphones blasting. The seat next to her is occupied by a teensy curled up purse dog that matches the girl’s outfit. LAWERENCE: Girl, are you blind? Give that seat up for the pregnant lady! The Teenage Girl bobs along to her music, oblivious. LAWERENCE (CONT’D): Disrespectful! Take those damn things out of your ears, move the dog, let the prego lady sit. Lawerence points to Jane. Jane eyes Pete. Pete avoids eye contact with her. JANE: You’re not talking about me are you? LAWERENCE: How far along are you? Pete looks away and grimaces. JANE: I’m not pregnant you asshole! PETE : Jane, c’mon! Lawerence looks at Jane, confused. LAWERENCE: You sure? JANE: Oh my god! Can a woman not have a stomach on the subway anymore without everyone offering her seats? PETE: Jane, don’t turn this into a feminist issue. They’re just trying to be polite. JANE: Polite? What’s polite about calling me a fat ass? PETE: He called you pregnant, that’s different. JANE: (yelling) Yeah, it’s worse! You can’t just go around assuming fat people are pregnant. PETE: Jesus Jane, the man was trying to do you a favor. Maybe you should just lose a couple of pounds and this wouldn’t happen. LAWERENCE: Mmmhmmm. JANE: You shut up! What’s your name? LAWERENCE: You don’t get to know my name you rude fatass bitch! Jane gets up in his face. The teenage girl notices Jane. She takes out her headphones. TEENAGE GIRL: Oh my god, I didn’t see you there. I’m so sorry, you can have this seat. Jane glares at her. JANE: What the fuck is wrong with all of you people?! PETE: Jane, why don’t you just sit down. LAWERENCE: You don’t deserve a seat. TEENAGE GIRL: How rude! Yes she does and so does her unborn child. (to Jane) Lady, you should sit down. JANE: You know what?! Fine! Jane turns and puts her hands in the air. She lowers herself down into a seat. PETE: Jane, no! A soft BARK. A CRUNCH. PETE (CONT’D): Not that seat! TEENAGE GIRL: Oh my god, Daisy! You pregnant cow, you killed my Daisy!

Scene 1 EXT. SUMMERSET CEMETERY – DAY Old tombstones line the hill - a hundred sundials in the mid-afternoon sun. A photographer walks among them and snaps shots at random. ED, 23 and tanned from the fields stands with the sun at his back. MANDY, 21 on the summer break between sophomore and junior year at Cornell, sits on a blanket. She looks at him and shields her eyes with her hand. MANDY: I can’t see you. Ed shifts. Now the sun is in both of their eyes. ED: Better? MANDY: Not really. Ed moves around some more. She shifts on the ground. ED: I want it to be perfect. MANDY: What? Ed wipes his hands on his jeans. Crouches. Stands. ED: I didn’t think you’d come. MANDY: You know I love it here. ED: My ma says the view is wasted. They both look out down the hill. MANDY: Are you okay? You seem upset. Ed moves his mouth a couple of times. ED: It’s not the same around here with you at school. MANDY: I’m here now. ED: And a guy gets to thinking about the world and stuff. Mandy is suddenly very interested. Ed sits down across from her. ED (Con’t): And what’s important. And who’s important. MANDY: Oh, Ed… He struggles to pull something from his pocket. He shakes. Mandy opens her mouth, expectation and surprise and excitement. He gets what he was after from his pocket. A small box. A jewelry box. He kneels, unbalanced and squinting. He extends the box. His hand unsteady. ED: Mandy Rowlins, will— The photographer calls from across a half dozen stones. PHOTOGRAPHER: Hey, do you kids mind moving for a minute? I want to get a shot of this stone with the tree but without any people. Ed glares at him. Falls back on his heels, pulls the box in tight. His nerve breaks. He jumps up and runs away. MANDY: Will I what? Don’t go.

INT. KINDERGARTEN CLASSROOM -- DAY A dozen KINDERGARTENERS stretch across the front of the room, performing some kind of friendship skit or whatever the beaming KINDERGARTEN TEACHER thought would be entertaining. Watching the production are corresponding PARENTS, equal parts charmed and bemused. In the back of the room are JEFF, 30s, loosened tie and tired eyes, and MONA, 30s, wishing to be anywhere, anywhere, anywhere else. Mona leans toward Jeff. MONA I think this might be worse than when Abigail made us watch that birthing video. JEFF Oh, no, this is much worse. But look at them up there, they're having a great time. MONA That's because they don't have to watch this. One Kindergarten (OLIVIA) meets Jeff's eyes and smiles. Jeff gives a small wave. MONA I mean, look at Olivia, she's just flailing around. JEFF So play-acting isn't her thing. MONA Almost six years old and nothing is "her thing." JEFF Can't blame me for that. Mona swallows hard, her face a mash of anger and sadness. MONA You said you wouldn't bring that up. JEFF And eight years ago you said you'd be faithful. MONA That's not fair. JEFF Welcome to life. MONA Fuck you. Nearby Parents turn to Mona, dirty looks aplenty. Mona whispers. MONA I made a mistake, okay? How many times do I have to say that? JEFF As many times as it takes for you to say you're sorry. MONA I said it was a mistake. JEFF That's not an apology. MONA Well, what the fuck do you want me to do? Jeff stands, pushing to the front of the room. Parents watch him incredulously. TEACHER Mr. Maddox, if you could-- JEFF Just give me a second. He crouches in front of Olivia. JEFF I love you very much, sweetie. OLIVIA (confused) I love you, too, Daddy. JEFF I wish that were true. He hugs Olivia tight. Kisses her. As he heads for the door: JEFF Hey, Seth. A Father looks at Jeff. JEFF Take care of your daughter for me. And he's gone.

Scene 3 INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT JAKE sits at the big mahogany desk, going through some brochures. GABE is stretched out on the bed, tapping away on his cell phone. JAKE: We could go the pier tomorrow. Or we could go to one of the museums. Jake looks up. Gabe is still completely engrossed in his phone. JAKE: Are you even listening to me? No response. JAKE: Gabe, the bed’s on fire. GABE: Huh? Jake shakes his head, gets up, and goes to lie down next to Gabe. JAKE: I was trying to figure out what to do tomorrow. You apparently aren’t interested. GABE (not looking up from phone): No, I am. I’m sorry. I just have to check this one thing... JAKE: Gabe, come on. Please, just put the phone down. GABE: Just a sec, Jake, I promise. JAKE: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. We went on vacation to actually spend time together. GABE: I know, just... JAKE: Gabe. Put. The. Phone. Down. He reaches over, and grabs for the phone. Gabe rolls over, away from Jake’s reaching arm. Jake tries again, and they wrestle for a moment. Finally, Jake manages to grab it. GABE: Come on, Jake, this isn’t funny. Jake jumps up, and runs across the room. He throws the phone into one of the desk drawers. GABE: You’ve made your point, Jake. JAKE: Have I? Gabe gets up, comes over to the desk. Jake is standing in front of the drawer, blocking Gabe’s way. GABE: Yes. Move. He tries to get around Jake, but Jake shifts, blocking his way again. GABE: Please. Give me my phone. Jake shakes his head, smirking. Gabe tries to push him out of the way, and he falls into a lamp on the desk. It crashes to the floor, and the room fills with black. GABE: Shit. Are you OK? JAKE: Yeah. Silence. The sound of drawers scraping open. GABE: If I could just find my phone. It has a flashlight... JAKE: Of course it does. Then, a thud. JAKE: Ow! Suddenly the room is illuminated with light spilling from the open bathroom door. Jake walks back over to Gabe, who’s staring at the completely shattered lamp on the floor. GABE: Damn. That’s gonna cost us. JAKE: Yeah. Jake goes and turns on a bedside lamp. Gabe reaches into the drawer for his phone. JAKE: Gabe? GABE: Yeah? JAKE: You touch that phone at any point during this vacation, and you will pay. Gabe pulls his hand out of the drawer. GABE: Yeah, OK. He goes to Jake and kisses him. After a moment, Jake relaxes and kisses him back.

EXTERIOR, grounds of the FAITH COVENANT CHURCH OF THE NEW LOVE Habited NUNS walk in a prayerful row across the wide green sward between a massive church and an outbuilding. The last of them is *very* fat, and rather short. She walks funny. Kind of skittering to keep up. Oh yeah - there are waaay too many legs beneath the habit. SISTER GENEVIEVE is the second-to-last nun. She seems angry, for a nun. Lips pressed together, wrists stiff beneath her pressed-together hands, shoulders square and tight. Stalking where the others glide. Behind her, beneath the habit, SISTER MARIGOLD is a black widow spider. She's shiny and quite pretty. MARIGOLD [whispering] I said I'm sorry. GENEVIEVE stalks on. The building is close, now. MARIGOLD How was I to know you it was your cat? Gen. Listen to me. GENEVIEVE rounds on her. The other sisters continue, not looking back. I'm praying. You should be praying too. You have a lot to be forgiven for. MARIGOLD I never asked for a soul. GENEVIEVE I'm not convinced you have one. MARIGOLD It just kind of happened. God will understand. I'm a *spider*. GENEVIEVE I'm trying very hard here to be patient. To be forgiving. But you're making it hard. A pedipalp reaches out to stroke Genevieve's face. Genevieve flinches back. MARIGOLD I didn't mean to break it. GENEVIEVE grits her teeth. Kill, Marigold. The word is kill. As in, you killed my cat. MARIGOLD But -- GENEVIEVE I don't know what I was thinking. What happened between us last night. It can never happen again. Never, do you hear me? MARIGOLD But I love you. GENEVIEVE You're a spider. And I'm Christ's bride. MARIGOLD rears up on her back four legs. Her habit falls away to reveal the red hourglass on her belly. [OS someone SCREAMS] Are you walking away from me? ------ SCENE 3

Great, funny twist. This line was a little clunky for me:

I didn’t bitch and moan at you when you spent countless late nights at work with your secretary doing God knows what.

but I loved the comeback. MAN's line of dialog is a little clunky for a furious person too. Overall, great, though!

INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT The buzz of an old refrigerator fills a tiny kitchen that could use a new coat of paint. A Scrabble board sits on a wobbly table. LEO (28) sits studies a tray of letters in front of him. STACEY (26) sits directly across from him. She hides a look of frustration as she studies the half-filled board on the table. STACEY: There's nowhere to go. LEO: You said that two minutes ago. Still your turn. STACEY: Could you get me some soda? She puts on a smile. Leo sighs, gets up, and grabs a glass from the cupboard. Stacey eyes him. He rinses the glass out. She eyes the board. He wipes the glass down. She eyes him again. He heads towards the fridge and opens the door. Stacey watches his every move. STACEY: I think I got it... Stacey watches him pull out a 2 liter of Dr. Pepper. STACEY: Oh, no. I meant diet. Leo sighs again – back into the fridge. Stacey grabs the fabric Scrabble tile bag. She carefully digs in and pulls out a few tiles. Leo pours the cup – unaware. Stacey smiles, tosses two tiles back into the back – CLICK, CLICK. Leo spins around instantly. LEO: You cheat! STACEY: What?! He carries the soda over and places it down. She smiles. LEO: You're cheating. I heard you. STACEY: Could I have a straw? Leo gets up again, this time he walks backwards, all eyes on Stacey. He reaches back for a straw, knocks down a whole canister of them. Leo bends over to pick up the straws. Stacey switches out two more tiles. Leo comes back with a straw. She proceeds to put tiles down – all seven of them. STACEY: Full word, baby! Stacey points at the letters as she counts her points. LEO: You cheated! STACEY: Did not! Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, thirty-two. LEO: I'm not playing. STACEY: Come on. Plus fifty. Ninety six! Leo refuses to write her score down. Stacey reaches out for the pen. Leo pulls it away. LEO: No, you cheated. That doesn't count. STACEY: Don't be a baby because I have a bigga vocabulary than you. LEO: I was winning. You distracted me. STACEY: I didn't cheat. Frustrated, Leo swipes all the tiles on the floor. Stacey looks down, holds in laughter. STACEY: That's my game win. Leo, realizing he overreacted, starts picking up tiles, slightly embarrassed. STACEY: Could you put this in the fridge, I'm not really thirsty. Stacey points to her soda. LEO: I knew it. We can't play anything. Poker, charades, rock paper, scissors – or should I say “flamethrower”! Leo grabs the soda. He opens the fridge – stumbles and SMASH. The glass shatters and soda spills everywhere. Leo SCREAMS in agony. He raises his hand up – blood drips off – it's everywhere. STACEY: LEO! Oh my god. Get a rag. Stacey shoots up. Leo starts laughing uncontrollably. He licks his finger – it was just barbecue sauce. He pulls out the bottle. STACEY: You jerk. That's not funny. LEO: Cheating isn't either! Leo cleans up his messy prank as he laughs to himself. Stacey, still slightly upset, grabs the scorecard and writes a large “W” next to her name. FADE OUT PS: This is my third scene (Scene 3). I forgot to label the other two scenes.

Scene 3 INT. BRIGHTON HOUSE - HALLWAY - EVENING JIM BRIGHTON (32) walks down the hallway loosening his tie. He unbuttons his collar as he steps into the-- INT. BEDROOM He slumps with a sigh as he sees JAMIE (28) rolling paint on the walls. She works furiously, wired like she's had 12 cups of coffee. Beige spots speckle her hair and clothes. JIM: Babe, not again. JAMIE: I told you, I didn't like the color. JIM: This needs to stop. JAMIE: What? I've got plenty of free time. If I want to paint, I'll paint. JIM: Three times in one week. This isn't healthy. You need to talk to someone. Jamie stops, tosses down the roller carelessly. Paint splatters on the carpet. JAMIE: Ok, so let's talk. We're talking. What do you want to talk about? JIM: I mean a professional. We can go together. JAMIE: You can go if you want. I'm fine. I've got to do the trim. Jamie reaches for the hand brush, slops it in the bucket, and globs paint on the wall next to the door frame. It drips all over the wood. Jim reaches to grab her wrist. JIM: Jamie. Stop. JAMIE: Don't touch me! Jamie pulls her wrist from his grasp and shoves him away. Jim stumbles back, catching himself with a backward step. CRUNCH. Jim lifts his foot off the picture frame, placed upside-down on the floor. Jamie's face melts as she watches Jim pick up the frame and flip it over. A shard of glass falls off the picture of Jamie holding a newborn baby. JIM: I'm sorry. JAMIE: Jim. Tears stream down her face as she drops the brush and falls into Jim, sinking her face into his chest as she sobs. Jim's eyes fill with water as he surveys the room, half-painted, a disassembled crib and boxes of carefully-folded baby clothes.

This is Scene 2 for me.

[SCENE 3 || A/N: Written in Fountain.io, formatting marks may appear.] INT. HOME FOYER - AFTERNOON Knocking at the front door draws 20-something ANNA to the foyer. A muffled man's voice can be heard calling her name loudly as the knocking intensifies. ANNA sighs as she grips the door knob tightly, knuckles whitening as her jaw sets and her brows knot. ANNA opens the door, where a disheveled and sad 20-something JARED stands in the rain, dripping wet, holding a crystal vase filled with a large bouquet of red roses dressed with a sodden satin bow. ANNA What do you want, Jared? I told you last night we're through. I have nothing more to say to you. JARED I just wanted to tell you I'm so sorry. I wasn't myself last night. The guys were pushing booze at me all evening. ANNA Whatever. Tell your story walking, asshole. Better yet, go tell your sob story to that slut who was dancing on your lap last night. JARED Anna! You can't mean that! I love you! It wasn't what it looked like! You've got to believe me! She was just a dancer the guys paid for as part of my bachelor party entertainment! ANNA holds up her hand palm in JARED's face to stop his protestations. ANNA Just a dancer? How about the other girls? Save it. I know what else happened last night. ANNA pulls out her smartphone from her pocket, swipes it a couple times, and a video begins to play. JARED can be heard moaning on the phone as ANNA thrusts it display forward into JARED's face. JARED (O.S.) Oh baby, just like that. Unf...frigid girlfriend won't do...unf...that. Harder...ugh, I missed you... ANNA swipes the phone a few more times and the recording stops. JARED is frozen in place, his mouth hanging slack as the magnitude of ANNA's discovery dawns on him. ANNA Frigid, huh? You think because you're not married yet you can indulge in your exes and your kink — and without a condom, too? Nice of your brother and friends to put this up on the ‘net, though. JARED N-n-no, Anna, I didn't know what I was doing! It was just— ANNA Do you really want me to play ALL the video for you, right now? Do you want me to point out how very sober you sounded with the first couple of girls? JARED Couple of girls? No, no, no, that's not at all what it was like— ANNA Stop. Just stop. Lying isn't going to make your cheating any better. I'm not going to put up with this bullshit one second longer. JARED But I can explain— ANNA Yeah? Well explain this. ANNA grabs the vase from JARED's grasp, as JARED continues to sputter. ANNA palms it from hand to hand before tossing the vase in a perfect spiral pass out onto the center of the sidewalk yards behind JARED, shattering spectacularly as it hits the pavement. JARED's mouth still hangs open as ANNA takes the diamond engagement ring off her finger and tosses it to land in the middle of the crystal fragments. JARED Anna! NO! That cost— ANNA Tell the lap dancer how much it cost. Or those other girls you fucked last night. Tell them walking. JARED remains frozen on the front porch in the rain, his face hang-dog sad, as ANNA takes a step back into the house and slams the door in his face, then locks it. ANNA Good fucking riddance to bad baggage, my grandma would say. > CUT TO BLACK.

Scene 3 EXT. WORK PICNIC AT A PARK – DAY Sarah stares at her husband, Bill, both wearing silly foam helmets. BILL: This is not a good idea. They are each standing on a foam platform over an inflated supertoy holding a large foam baton. They are ready to fight. SARAH: You kept flapping your pretty gums. You brought this on yourself. BILL: What are you talking about? SARAH: Everyone here knows about our sex life. She swings at him, missing, and almost looses her balance. BILL: Oh. SARAH: They are laughing at me. She swings again, smacking him on his arm. He shrugs it off. BILL: No one is laughing. Behind Sarah, Bill’s coworkers and their spouses are pointing. And laughing at them. SARAH: They are laughing with their eyes! She swings at Bill’s head, but he ducks. BILL: What’s this going to prove? SARAH: I’m not your passive bitch! She swings the baton around in her arms, hops from foot to foot. SARAH: You win, the fight’s over. I’ll be sweet. Bill doesn't buy it. A larger crowd gathers to watch. SARAH: I promise. Bill swings at her with all his strength. She ducks the blow. Bill almost looses his balance. SARAH: But if I win… Bill pokes at her, but she knocks the baton aside. SARAH: You buy me a pony. Bill probes with his baton, looking for the right moment. BILL: A pony? Bill swings low at her feet. Sarah jumps over his baton, lands deftly, smashing her baton into Bills face. Stunned, Bill falls back ward off the platform. Sarah jumps down, looms over him. Blood runs down his cheeks as he stairs up at her. BILL: I think you broke my nose. Sarah smiles down at him. SARAH: Always wanted a pony.

I will be posting mine sometime soon. In the meantime however, I wanted to suggest the scene writing prompt of taking something that has been mistaken as belonging to you.

INT. BEDROOM - DAY GILL (35), on his computer, finishes up a draft of a paper. He sends it to his printer. As it prints he sighs with relief and heads to the kitchen. INT. KITCHEN – DAY Gill walks into the kitchen. He goes to the fridge. It's in shambles. He can’t find anything. He looks at the sink, it is piled high with dirty dishes. He goes into the dining room and the table is loaded down with more dirty dishes and food left out. MARIE(25) walks in. He stares at her. MARIE: What? GILL: How the hell am I supposed to eat something with all your garbage left all over the place? MARIE: Pick a finger. I’m working three jobs for your ass. GILL: How many times...? I can’t get through grad school if you won’t support me. All I need is for you to just put stuff away when you’re done. That's all. Rinse out the dishes. Put the food away. Is that too hard for you? She walks away. GILL: Hey I’m talking to you! Hey! She ignores him, out of sight, in another room. GILL: Yo bitch! I’m talking to you here! Silence. He takes his arm across the dining room table filled with dishes and food, and swipes it all onto the floor clearing table with a clanging and breaking of glass, making a mess of food, garbage, broken dishes and glass on the floor. She charges in. MARIE: Are you out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you? Marie is unnerved by Gill's violent actions. Fear overcomes her. Gill calmly goes into the kitchen and forages. He emerges with a butter knife in hand. GILL: And I’m not cleaning this up. You are. MARIE: When hell freezes over. And don’t wave that knife at me. GILL: It’s a butter knife. I want to make a damned sandwich if I can find some bread. MARIE: You put that knife down. I’m calling the cops. She gets on the phone. MARIE: Hi. I’d like to report my husband is waving a knife at me. Yes, 844 Halloween drive. LATER: The cops have the two of them separated. MARIE: He pulled that knife on me. You can see it there in his hand. COP1: Ma'am, that’s a butter knife. Sir, please put the knife down. COP2: Sir, did you make this mess in the dining room? GILL: She won’t put anything away. The food stays out all night. She never cleans up anything. MARIE: All he does is go to school all day. I have to work three jobs. Gill still has the knife and waves it as he talks. GILL: Why can’t you just simply clean up after yourself. COP1: Sir put the knife down. The police radio blurbs out: seven-twelve-thirty. Assault at 15 Rogue drive. Shots fired. COP2: Come on partner. Let’s roll. Fuck this shit. COP1: Sir, Ma'am, sorry we have to go. Have a nice evening. The cops hightail it out of there. Marie: Hey, wait! He’s still pointing that knife at me? COP1 (OS): Sir, please put the knife down.

EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT GREG, 30, chases SARAH, 30, out of the bar. She's hustlin'. And livid. GREG: Sarah wait. Sarah! Sarah's daggers are pointed straight ahead. SARAH: Fuck off, Greg. Go trip off a bridge. GREG: C'mon now... that's not nice. Sarah whips around and meets him face to face. The fangs are out. SARAH: Not nice? Not nice? You know what else isn't nice? FUCKING ANOTHER WOMAN! That one got some looks. She could care less. Greg's slightly embarrassed. GREG: Sarah, please... keep your voice down. SARAH: EXCUSE ME? You don't want me to broadcast what a lying, cheating slut you are? You're a slut, Greg. A slut. (beat) You know what else isn't nice? Letting me think I was the crazy one for thinking something was going on and convincing me nothing was. Greg can't get a rebuttal in. SARAH: And you know what fucking else? Texting her and calling her 'baby' when you don't even call ME that. And using my brother as an alibi? Don't even get me started on the shitstorm he's about to experience. GREG: No. Wait. Jimmy didn't... He doesn't know anything. There's nothing going on. It's not what you think, I swear! Sarah's not convinced. SARAH: Bullshit. GREG: Sarah, I swear. It's my bosses wife. SARAH: WHAT? GREG: No... not like that. Sarah does a quick about-face and starts to hyperventilate on the way to her car. Greg gives chase. GREG: It's not me. It's her. SARAH: Oh my god! GREG: SHE's cheating. She's cheating on him and he wasn't sure and he asked me to flirt to see if she would bite. And she did. Sarah's reached her car and digs in her purse for her keys. SARAH: I don't want to hear it, Greg. I'm done. Greg starts to crack. GREG: Sarah, please. You have to listen to me. We can call him. Ask him. Sarah unlocks the car and goes to open the door, but Greg's hand is in the way. GREG: Please, Sarah. I swear this isn't what it looks like. (grabs his phone) Look, let's call him. I'll call him... he'll explain everything. Greg turns away momentarily, phone in the air for reception, and turns back towards Sarah just as she brushes his arm out of the way and swings the car door open with all her might. BAM! Right in the nose. Blood. Broken. GREG: Holllly fuck! My nose! (something's broken the end. lol that's the easy way to do it.)

another broken nose! haha i guess i should've read them all before writing mine. oh well.

SCENE 3 ALEXA, 25, wearing sweats, is carrying two wine glasses and a plate of food. JORDAN, 29, in a wife beater and nice slacks, follows with a wine bottle and plate of food. JORDAN: It doesn't matter. ALEXA: It's perfectly reasonable to ask. They settle in a TV room. ALEXA looks for the remote. JORDAN pours himself wine. JORDAN: It is not reasonable to ask. He's doing this for free. He never said- ALEXA: OK. Shhh. I don't care. It's your deal. JORDAN: I'm not going to ask. ALEXA: Okay. Don't. Where's the remote? JORDAN: I donno. Check the couch cushion. ALEXA: I don't see it. JORDAN: TV stand? Alexa: Nope. JORDAN: Downstairs? ALEXA: Why would it be downstairs? JORDAN: Sometimes you forget you have it when- ALEXA: Do you want to help me? JORDAN: Let me have some wine first. Alexa gives him a look. JORDAN (cont.): I've had a day. I need to sit. ALEXA: Alright. JORDAN: I cannot... I mean, he offered. ALEXA: I know. JORDAN: He was really on top of it before. ALEXA: Calm down. JORDAN: You don’t understand. The office - ALEXA: Do you think I don't work all day? JORDAN: What? ALEXA: You act as if I don't do anything. JORDAN: Woah. No I don't. ALEXA: I run a business. Just because- JORDAN: Alexa, I never said you don't- ALEXA: MOTHERFUCKER! She lunges for the remote, which is lying right next to Jordan. As she victoriously grabs it, she knocks Jordan's wine glass out of his hand. It smashes to the floor. Silence.

Scene 2: RACHEL sits in the passenger seat, KYLE, her husband, drives. They both look tired. Rachel: My God could you look more like a driving instructor? Kyle: What are you talking about? Rachel pulls one of his hands off the wheel. He jerks it back. Kyle: Stop that. Rachel: You don't always have to keep your hands at ten and two. Kyle: I don't. He shifts his hands around to the bottom of the wheel. It feels uncomfortable, he puts them back to ten and two. Rachel: How close is your seat? You look like an old lady. Why don't you just rest your chin on the steering wheel. Kyle: Why don't you just go to sleep. I'm not the one who decided to get up at 4am for a 5 hour spontaneity drive to the beach. Rachel: You have a problem with spontaneity? Kyle: I have a problem with getting up at 4am. Rachel: And taking salsa classes, going to the movies past 9, taking a sick day off of work and anything else fun. Kyle: I took a sick day - seven weeks ago. Rachel: Because you were sick! Kyle: Oh my God, really? This is what I woke up for? This is going to help save our marriage? Rachel: Obviously not if you keep driving like a damn driver's ED instructor. She pulls both of his hands away from the wheel, and hits the button that rolls his seat back. Rachel: For once act like you're twenty-six and not sixty-five! Kyle swats her away, the car swerves. She continues to pull at his arms as he tries to get control of the car. Kyle: Rachel! Stop it! Are you trying to - The car hits a bump, swerves and skids off the road. Kyle slams on the breaks, rocks fly out from under the tires as they slam into a tree, breaking the headlights and crumpling the hood of the car. Kyle looks at Rachel. They're both okay. Scared but okay. Kyle: I want a divorce.

INT. FANCY RESTAURANT – EVENING Your typical fancy steakhouse complete with wine stands next to the table and where the waiters actually have to dress in tuxedos. All around there are couples enjoying a romantic evening. At one table sits two women, JACKIE (29, spunky and a typical YOLO, live in the moment type of girl) and across from her is KRISTEN (31, all seriousness and business). Right now, in the middle of all these couples, “Lovers” is the last thing they want to be now KRISTEN Look! I get it, you love your job! But is it too much to ask for just a little bit more of your time? JACKIE If you LOVE me, you would understand that I love what I do to take any time away from it. KRISTEN But if you LOVE me, you would understand all I want to do is spend time with you. Jackie stands up, furious that her words are being thrown back at her. JACKIE Well then it looks like there is a lack of love here then! KRISTEN And you thought that I ever loved you! Jackie is visibly hurt by this and tries not to show it, but she is of the type to wear her heart on her sleeves. JACKIE I hope you enjoy the taxi cab back to a hotel. Jackie turns to leave, and two hearts break.

#3 7/3 Where our main character does the right thing, only to get abandoned by the hero. (or when the critic realizes what it feels like to be an artist) EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Jansen walks his mountain bike, He enters the small parking lot which leads up to his roof. There is a large object covered by a blue tarp sitting in the empty lot. He looks at it, briefly, shrugs, and lifts his bike up to his shoulder and jogs up the back steps to his ROOF Woolskie is sitting in front of his door. Jansen walks backwards. He’s center, but is very cautious about how close he is to her. Woolskie waves, using just her fingers, up and down, like an innocent child. JANSEN-Well,..Elizabeth Madeline,...how was your day? WOOLSKIE-Kinda sucked. JANSEN-Me too. But hey, at least you still got a job, right? Jansen leans against his bike, she notices he’s a little tipsy. WOOLSKIE-Uh,...yeah. Thanks to you I guess. JANSEN-You’re welcome...I guess? They look at each other. WOOLSKIE-No, I mean, thank you. You’ve done so much for me, protecting my identity, it,...it means so much. But, I think I should exit your life now. JANSEN-Really? You’re bailing? Fine. She stands. WOOLSKIE-I’m not..., Well,...I have to focus on my masterpiece. But you can’t come, it’s too dangerous. Sorry. JANSEN-Oh, I can’t come? Did you get some intern from the Tribune to cover it for you? WOOLSKIE-What? JANSEN-Did you get a replacement for me? WOOLSKIE-There is no replacement for you. Fuck you for even thinking that. Since I have come into your life you have been cyberbullied, the mayor yelled at you, and you got fired. I was trying to give you confidence, help you find your voice, and I fucked it up. I’m sorry, but I should clearly go. JANSEN-Go ahead then. Go use some sap from Pilsen. Whatever. WOOLSKIE-Excuse me? JANSEN-Dude, you fuckin’ used me! You got your free press and your lame artistic desire for your air qoute process to be documented. Hope your satisfied! She walks over to him. The mascara looks like it’s been dripping for over an hour or two. WOOLSKIE-Do I look satisfied? You have no idea how hard this is. It’s fucking scary, okay? This, She extends her arm, accentuating the invisibleness between them. WOOLSKIE-This. This scares me. JANSEN-What?! I just lost my fucking job for you, and now you’re scared?! WOOLSKIE-Yes, I am fucking scared, sorry! This,...this is too much. So, I need to go. Sorry, but this is fucking with my work. JANSEN-It’s fucking with your work?!! “This” is like my bike, okay? She looks to him, then his bike, confused. WOOLSKIE-Huh? He pushes his bike, and it ghost rides off the roof. Falls into the vacant parking lot. CRASH. She looks to him, knowing how much the bike meant to him. WOOLSKIE Wish you wouldn’t of done that. JANSEN-Well I did. You got what you wanted. Now, can I get on with my life please? Because "that" is what "this" currently is. WOOLSKIE-Is this you really drunk right now? He stares her down, beyond offended, her presence has sobered him up. JANSEN-No,...this is me leaving. He unlocks his door, enters, and slams it shut, leaving her alone under ugly yellow street lights. EXT. ROOF - SUNRISE Jansen, beer in hand, still awake, most likely pondering, “What the fuck is under the tarp?” Stumbles down the stairs. He reaches for the blue plastic and yanks it back IT’S A BIKE TAXI Beautifully painted. He bites his lip. The left side of the taxi is the sun rising with an outline of what could easily be him as his shadow curves onto the back of the taxi, which leads to The Chicago skyline. The dark shadow goes down to the center, where a new dark line starts, and rises up, but this line is a shade of purple. The last third of the cart (the side on the right) is a moon with the silhouette of a hooded woman. The shadowed figures are cosmically looking for the other, even though they can’t physically see the other.

SCENE ONE: INT. DINER - NIGHT ANTHONY (late 20’s) and TAYLOR (mid 20’s) sit side by side in a booth. Anthony plays around on his cell phone while Taylor studies the menu. TAYLOR What are you getting? Anthony, completely focused on his phone, does not answer her question. The WAITER arrives. Anthony looks up and puts his phone away. WAITER Hi, my name's Jake. Can I start you off with something to drink? ANTHONY Uhhhh...water. TAYLOR Water, please. WAITER Okay. Be right back. The waiter walks away. Anthony pulls out his phone again. Taylor, frustrated, gets up from her seat and sits across from Anthony. She pulls out her cell phone and begins to text. Anthony takes notice. Taylor looks up after a few seconds of texting to catch Anthony staring at her. Anthony quickly looks back down to his own phone, going back into his daze, until the sound of Taylor’s phone vibrating on the table wakes him up. He puts his phone away in his pants pocket. ANTHONY Who’s that? TAYLOR My friend. Anthony tries to speak as softly as he can so he doesn’t make a scene. ANTHONY Which one? TAYLOR Does it matter? ANTHONY Rick? TAYLOR Yeah. ANTHONY What’s he saying? TAYLOR We’re just talking about a comic book. ANTHONY Could you put it away, please? TAYLOR Why? You were using your phone. ANTHONY I wasn’t texting. That’s rude. Taylor becomes visually upset. The waiter comes back with the waters. He places one in front of each of them. Taylor continues to text. Anthony pulls out his phone again and pretends to use it. He sees that his efforts are not working so he lunges forward to try to grab her phone. Unfortunately, he hits the glass of water and it spills all over Taylor’s phone and clothes. Anthony quickly realizes what he’s done. He looks stunned. Taylor plays around with her phone, moving her fingers all over it. TAYLOR It won’t turn on. Tears fall from her eyes as she escapes the scene.

Scene 2 EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DUSK FADE IN on two pair of feet speed walking on winding country road, one in running shoes and the other in suede driving moccasins. JAN (early 30s) walks fast while STEPHEN (early 30s) tries to keep up. She is wearing yoga pants and a light hoodie. He is wearing jeans and a gray cashmere sweater. STEPHEN: Hey babe, slow down. I thought we were going for a walk, not training for the Olympics. JAN: I like walking fast. You know that. STEPHEN playfully grabs her waist and pulls her in for a hug. STEPHEN: You're pissed. JAN: (pulling away) No. I'm exercising. STEPHEN: JAY, I told you before we came here to brace yourself and not pay attention to my parents. They're not like yours. They're not artists. They don't travel. They're retro, but they mean well. (pause) My mom likes you. JAN looks up the road and starts walking again, but slower this time. STEPHEN follows. JAN: She likes me? She has done nothing but gasp at everything I say and give me looks like I'm some kind of slut since I've gotten here. STEPHEN: She does like you. Trust me. She doesn't compliment anyone to their face. Not you. Not me. Not my perfect sister or her perfect doctor husband or their perfect fucking kids. JAN stops walking and turns to STEPHEN. STEPHEN: Can you just try to ignore her and enjoy this week with me? The foliage is peaking. You were dying to see this. JAN: STEPHEN, I don't care about the fucking foliage. I can handle your mother. I deal with much worse every day at the firm. STEPHEN: Then what's the problem? JAN: (looks around) Okay. (pause) It's you. Or maybe it's me. Your passivity scares me. I have tried to explain it away, but seeing you here ... in this place ... with your family ... I don't know. It scares me. STEPHEN: What ... JAN: I said I don't know. I just need some space ... some time to be alone and think. STEPHEN: My passivity? Are you serious? Is this about money? I thought we agreed ... The novel is almost finished. I ... JAN turns and starts walking again. JAN: God, STEPHEN. This is not about money. Not yet anyway. STEPHEN: What do you mean, not yet. (chases after her) Wait. I'm not going to defend myself. Writing is my work. I can get a job if that will help. JAN starts running, slowly at first, then faster. STEPHEN runs beside her. He is out of shape and visibly uncomfortable. JAN pulls ahead of him. She has the easy stride of a conditioned runner. JAN turns back to look at STEPHEN. He is much further behind her now. He stops running and looks at her. JAN: (yells) You're a great writer, STEPHEN! (under her breath) And a kinder man. JAN turns back around as a DEER darts across the road, startling her. She trips over a fallen branch and falls. She tries to get up, but falls back down in pain. CUT TO STEPHEN running to catch up with her. CUT TO the DEER on the other side of the road looking at them. STEPHEN bends down to help JAN stand up. STEPHEN: Are you okay? JAN: I think it's broken. STEPHEN picks her up into his arms and starts walking back in the direction from which they came. STEPHEN: Would a passive loser with no future do this? JAN: (laughing) Maybe, but not for long. After a few yards, he puts her down. They look at each other and laugh. A truck approaches and STEPHEN flags it down. They ride off into the direction of the sun setting behind the trees. FADE OUT.

1. EXT. COUNTRY ROAD – DAY A RED JEEP rolls down the road. It clatters and clinks on the highway. IRENE (O.S.) But I just don’t see why we had to take the car in today! INT/EXT. JEEP – CONTINUOUS IRENE, 44, and GREG, 45, sit next to each other in the jeep. Greg is at the wheel, his brow wet with sweat. He wears a T-shirt that’s tucked into his cargo shorts. His foot, cradled in a comfortable sneaker, holds and releases the gas pedal. The mpg bar goes up to the green. GREG: Look, I don’t want you driving up to Maryland next week with that loose muffler. And the noise. It’s like you’re driving formula one. Irene rolls down her window. Her white t-shirt is damp, and her legs, poking out from her shorts, perspire. IRENE: But the fact that we had to drive all the way out to the Chevy dealership and not just take it to John’s. GREG: The car is six months old; we’re still covered at the dealership. The Jeep rattles and shakes. IRENE: You know, you should be taking this one over there, getting the AC fixed. GREG: AC, that’s money. IRENE: I don’t know how you stand it. GREG: You gotta dress right for it. IRENE: What Greg? We’re dressed the same. GREG: Not you you. The car pulls up to a stop sign. IRENE: And now you expect me to drive this around all day? I have to pick up dinner for my sister. GREG: I can get that. Greg goes through the intersection. Not a car in sight. IRENE: No, I know how to do it. GREG: We can pick it up on the way home. IRENE: Greg, no we got to get home to let the dogs out. A LOUD CRACK is heard. Greg looks at the dash. IRENE: Greg, what was that?! GREG: Might just be the transmission. The car slows to a halt. Greg pulls it off the road. IRENE: Great. She pulls out her phone. Greg gets out of the Jeep. INT/ EXT JEEP – CONTINUOUS Greg hops out and starts looking under the car. Irene tries to dial her phone. GREG: Irene. Irene is trying to find someone to call. GREG: IRENE! IRENE: What? GREG: It’s good thing we took your car in today, you’ll have something you can take to Maryland next week. He continues to look under the car. Irene continues to look at her phone.

Scene #3: INT. - MUSEUM BASEMENT - DAY LORRIE and BEN are taking inventory. Ben has the clipboard. Lorrie, wearing ill-fitting neoprene gloves, is taking the artifacts off the shelves one at a time and verifying the numbers on the tag. The next item is a demonic statue. BEN: Three-one-eight-nine. One Etruscan statue, nine inches high, terra cotta. LORRIE: Got it. Three-one-eight-nine. Etruscan thingie. Terro cotto. She yawns. BEN: TerrA cottA. She frowns as he checks the item off on his list. She returns it to the shelf. LORRIE: Jesus, this is fucking boring. BEN: Hey, I went to a lot of trouble to get you this job. LORRIE: Yeah, yeah. So we could spend time together, you said. BEN: What do you call this? LORRIE: Boring. BEN: But we're together, right? Alone. LORRIE: Alone with a room full of ancient crap you like better than me. BEN: Crap? These are rare and valuable artifacts of ancient civilizations. I'd sell my soul for just one of these. LORRIE: Who'd want your horny little soul, anyway? Let's go to the beach. BEN: Three-one-nine-zero. One Etruscan statue, nine inches high, terra cotta. She grabs up the next statue, glances at the tag. LORRIE: Yeah, just like the last one. Why don't we just count the damn statues and check off that number of boxes? She plops the statue back on the shelf. BEN: Hey, be careful! LORRIE: It's okay. I didn't break the thing. BEN: These pieces are very old and could crack. Give them some respect. LORRIE: Sure, when you give me some respect. BEN: What's the matter with you? LORRIE: Me? It's you that's the matter, ass-hole! She pushes him. BEN: Cut it out. He grabs her arms. LORRIE: Don't tell me what to do. She wrestles loose, knocking over the next statue, which rolls slowly over the edge of the shelf. Ben grabs it in mid-air. BEN: Stop that! He puts the statue back, then turns and shakes her. BEN: You want to get me fired? LORRIE: Fuck you. I don't give a shit. She slaps him hard, then scratches at his face. He pushes her away. She kicks him. He stumbles, falls back against the storage case. It slowly tilts away from them, its Etruscan crockery sliding off and SMASHING on the floor. BEN: OH, SHIT!! The storage case hits the next row of cases, knocking them over...and the next row...and the next, like dominoes. CRASH... CRASH... CRASH!

I love it! Especially the Blake Snyder punt-the-pooch moment.

Great concept. But JIM and JAMIE?

SCENE THREE INT. SPACESHIP BRIDGE - DAY Alarm klaxons blare. Hazard lights flash. The large display screen shows the ship's accelerating course toward a huge, flaming sun. Uniformed CREW MEMBERS work with intense focus at their control panels. AUTOMATED SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT (V.O.) Evacuation window is three minutes and counting. CAPTAIN MIRASOL HASHIMOTO looks up from her work. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO You just have time to make it. Everyone, to the life pods. NOW. The crew dashes out, each pausing as they pass to salute the Captain. LIEUTENANT STELLA PARK remains focused on her work. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Lieutenant Park, I said go. Now. LT PARK If I can just redirect the power from the last two sectors, we might still-- CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO This is a direct order. LT PARK I'm not going without you. CAPTAIN Stella, please. Go while you can. AUTOMATED SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT (V.O.) All life pods launched successfully. Evacuation window is two minutes twenty-eight seconds. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Please. LT PARK The life pods are gone. Let me work. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO The executive escape pod hasn't been deployed. It will hold one person. Here's the fuel cell. Get in there. She pulls small cylinder suspended from a steel chain around her neck and tosses it to Lt Park. Lt Park focuses on her console. Captain Hashimoto draws a gun on her. Lt Park laughs. Lt PARK Save my life or you'll kill me? I don't think so, Mirasol. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO You can be such a stubborn bitch. LT PARK Yes, I can. Now help me save this ship. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Stella, there's no time. LT PARK If we lose the ship, you'll be court martialled and shot. I'll face an arranged marriage. I'm not sure which is worse. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO The ship is lost, Stella. Even if we escaped the sun's orbit, with the damage we've taken, the life support systems won't last until help could come. It's a long, slow, terrible way to go. LT PARK We can cross that bridge tomorrow. Right now I'm getting us out of here. AUTOMATED SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT (V.O.) Power redirected from sector 8 to main thrusters. Lt Park whoops with joy. AUTOMATED SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT (V.O.) Our course has accelerated thirteen percent. Evacuation window is one minute seven seconds. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO I am putting you in that pod. The Captain charges Lt Park and scoops her up in a fireman lift. Lt Park fights back with every dirty trick she's got. Her foot catches the fuel cell on her console. They watch it sail through the air... --and shatter against the wall. AUTOMATED SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT (V.O.) Our course has accelerated twenty-seven percent. Evacuation window is thirty-seven seconds. The Captain and Lieutenant sink into a heap on the floor. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Terminate announcements. The alarms mute. The silence is stunning. On the screen, the ever-larger sun is dazzling. LT PARK I win... CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO You always win. Lt Park snuggles into the Captain. They hold hands. LT PARK Did you really think I'd abandon you? CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Not really. LT PARK How much longer will our shields hold? CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO Mmm. Nineteen seconds, give or take. LT PARK I always thought we'd go out in a blaze of glory, but I never dreamed it would be like this. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO No one else has ever seen a sun from this close. LT PARK No one. CAPTAIN HASHIMOTO No one I'd rather see it with. The screen in front of them gets brighter and brighter as the wall begins to melt...

SCENE ONE EXT. COFFEE SHOP - AFTERNOON A quiet coffee shop peppered with a small crowd of people. Smart suited prim Jane walks in as loafy long haired Max cradles his latte. JANE Why here? MAX You're kidding me. JANE Your idea of a date? MAX Where we first met? JANE And the rest. MAX What's that supposed to mean? JANE pulls out MAX's phone. MAX All this time. Hand it over. JANE Any particular reason? MAX I want to play you...something. JANE ...Figures. MAX Listen. I'm here to make up. JANE Which story? Jane glances at the phone. MAX What is wrong with you? Jane slams the phone into Max's face MAX You've got to learn to communicate. JANE ...It is your phone isn't it? MAX I love your legal stuff but let's skip the interrogation. Max presses his phone. It starts to play 'It had to be you'. He looks to Jane. JANE 'GREAT TIME, BY THE WAY, MY NAME IS LISA'. Jane stands up and grabs the phone back. JANE Look there's even a photo. NOT ME EVERYONE. SOME OTHER GIRL. People in the coffee shop look embarrassed and turn away. A lone woman cheers. COFFEE SHOP GUY This has got nothing to do with any of us. Carry on. MAX Thanks dude. I can explain. JANE Let me guess, you deny, everything? MAX A rogue text from a girl I don't know. I'VE NEVER CHEATED, NEVER WILL. The music suddenly stops as Jane smashes the phone to pieces. JANE HE'S PAYING. Old woman cheers. EXT. OUTSIDE PAVEMENT An agitated Jane walks a block. She makes a call. JANE It's over. Nothing to salvage, satisfied.

Nice revelation about marriage in end. I like this

Excellent!

Scene 2 Int - Jeep - Day REESE- mid 30's drives. KAREN early 30's sits in the passenger seat. Green rolling hills and pastures envelope the couple. Karen: It's so beautiful out here. Reese: It smells like shit. Look, that cow is taking a dump right over there. It smells like wet goats everywhere. The city streets back home smell better than this. Karen: Well I'm sorry that you had to leave your precious city for a weekend. The jeep comes to a stop at a crossroad. Reese: Do you have the map? Karen: I didn't bring the map. You didn't tell me that you needed me to bring the map. It doesn't matter. I know how to get there. Reese: It's not like you would have listened to me if I did. Karen: What is that supposed to mean? Reese: It means you never do what I ask you to do. Karen: What is the last thing you asked me to do that I didn't do? Reese: I asked you to schedule this fucking couples retreat for another weekend. Karen: The retreat doesn't plan their schedule around your fucking fantasy football draft. This was the only weekend. The jeep sits idiling at the crossroad. Reese: Where is this cottage at? Karen: Left. Make a left. Reese looks to the left and to the right. He sees something. Something in the distance. Reese: It looks like there is something off to the right. Does that look like a cottage? Reese drives the jeep out into the middle of the intersection and begins to turn right. Karen: Stop. What are you doing. It's left. Reese hits the brake. The jeep is stopped right in the middle of the intersecting roads. Reese: Why don't we just check out what that is off to the right. It might be the cottage. Karen: It's not the cottage because the cottage is to the left. Reese: Fine. You want to go left. Lets go left. Hold on. Reese revs the engine and puts the jeep in gear peeling out of the intersection and plows into a goat. Karen: You hit a goat. Reese jumps out of the jeep to see the goat get up and stumble to the ground. Karen: Con't I think you broke his leg. He can't walk. Reese: I told you we should have went right. You never listen.

SCENE 3 INT. Hay Loft. - Evening. A lean farm boy TOBAIS (17) and his lover, MARY (16) with the honey-colored hair, are cuddling and drinking wine in Mary's family's hay loft. The two lay side by side. MARY: Toby... you love me, don't you? TOBAIS: I love you, Mary. MARY: Well then don't you think we've put it off long enough? TOBAIS: Of course. If you're ready. MARY: Let's go talk to papa right now, then! Mary hops up and brushes the hay off of her, a grin on her face. TOBAIS: Wait! No! NO, I can't talk to your father! MARY: But you just said! Tobais stands up too, facing her. TOBAIS: Not now. I will, I promise I will. I'm scared is all. You know I - Tobais is cut off as a door opens in the barn, spilling light in. The two creep forward. Tobais sets the wine bottle in between them. They crouch. A man enters the barn, it's PAPA. Mary peeks over the edge to see him, and then hides again. Mary puts a finger to her lips. PAPA: Mary? Are you in here? Mary? Tobais slowly sits down from his crouch. Papa sighs and turns to pat a horse. MARY: (whispering) tell him right now. Just do it. I'm tired of sneaking around. TOBAIS (also whispering) No. Mary. Not now. He'll kill me out back! MARY: (whispering) Toby! Mary tears up. TOBAIS: I will. I promise. Not today. MARY: You say that and say that. You're just a liar, Toby! Tobais sits up quickly, and reaches for Mary, but hits the bottle of wine. They both try to grab it, but it slips their fingers. Toby watches it fall with a mortified expression. It crashes to the ground and shatters. PAPA: Who's up there!?

Scene 3 JOE snaps his wallet and a file down on the table rushing in through the main door. He runs into the bathroom. His wife, GILL, sitting on a couch by a fireplace listening to radio, 'Sweet Pea- amos lee' frightens with the sudden thud as the bathroom door shuts and turns towards it. She is wearing dark glasses, holding a black stick. CRACKKKKKKK.. A loud noise from the bathroom She jumps off in hurry lightly swinging her stick to lead herself to the door. GILL (Panicking) Joe!! INT. BATHROOM. NIGHT JOE is kneeled down, head in hands stained with blood. GILL enters, she runs her hands through his hair. GILL Oh Joe… What happened, dear? Joe takes her hands into his standing up. JOE I can't… (Sighs) I cant stop!(sobbing breaks out) Its just been 10 days… 10 HARD days and I… I couldn't, I drank again. GILL (Whispers)Its alright, dear, alright! JOE No!(he barks at her)… no( tenderly) how many arguments do we have every SINGLE day… GILL No, no, no, that's a lie, we love each other as deep as an ocean.… right? Thats what we say…… together We see the couples reflection onto a broken mirror, the cracks with some blood. GILL, being blind can't see it. JOE Thats what we USED to say together; Besides, with me eating up your money with my drinking wouldn't do well for that loan or your home. GILL is on about to break to tears. GILL (choked) Hon, this is not you! You're drunk! lets go have dinner. We'll talk about this some other time. She brings a forced smile on her face, tears run down. JOE As for now, sweetheart, thats what we're running out of. With that he rushes out their hands slide apart, in the fine reflection of her glasses, we see the mirror as she runs her hand through it realising, Its broken ADDITION: INT. MAIN ROOM. SAME He takes back his wallet, puts on a coat and as he is about to leave, he hears sobbing. He opens the file, revealing a paper cut and some documents reading- " ALCOHOL STRINGS A 2 year course on cutting away your strings stuck to the cursed, alcohol. Do the right thing. " GILL is surveying through her fingers the blood on the cracks. GILL My baby's hurt! She rushes off to an open main door revealing an empty street. The file is missing. _________________ Thank you for reading. Means a lot.=)

Nice!

INT. APARTMENT - DAY Janet empties out the dishwasher, placing the clean plates back into the drawers. As she does this, Peter sits on the couch, watching SportsCenter. The mood is incredibly tense, and neither says a word to the other. Peter is glued to the TV set while Janet angrily tidies up the kitchen. While Janet cleans, it is clear that she is attempting to get Peter’s attention without explicitly doing so. As she pulls the plates out of the dishwasher, she makes sure to be unnecessarily loud, clinking the ceramic plates against one another, doing the same as she loudly sets them down in the drawer. She looks over to Peter, but he is still focused on the TV. Janet looks annoyed. She grabs a handful of the silverware from the dishwasher, and she does the same thing, rubbing the forks and spoons and knives against one another, making an obnoxious racket. Peter looks over, finding the noise odd, but then looks back to the TV. Janet grows more angry. Janet grabs another plate from the dishwasher, but as she goes to put it back into the drawer, she stops and stares at Peter, hoping to get him to say something, anything. Peter doesn’t even notice her gaze. Furious, Janet takes the plate and heaves it straight into the floor, shattering everywhere. Peter jumps off the couch, shocked. He stares at her with his jaw dropped, looking confused and angry all at once. Janet leaves the kitchen, heading for the bedroom. PETER Where are you going? Clean that up! No response from Janet, which annoys Peter to no end. He marches into the bedroom. He finds Janet seated on the foot of their bed, simply staring out into space, emotionless. PETER (CONT’D) What the fuck was that? Are you insane? No response from Janet. Peter walks in front of her, but she ignores him. PETER (CONT’D) You think that you’re being an adult right now? Huh? Janet is stone-faced. PETER (CONT’D) Because you’re not! You’re acting like a fucking infant! Janet snaps, slapping Peter in the face. He turns bright red, furious. He looks like he wants to say something, but can’t muster the words. Instead, he turns around and heads to the wall behind him. PETER (CONT’D) You wanna break things? Okay, two can play that game. Peter lifts a framed abstract photograph off of the wall. PETER (CONT’D) I’ve always hated this fucking thing since the first day you bought it! He throws the picture onto the floor, sending shards of glass flying. Janet, now enraged, gets up and grabs the first thing she sees: a flower vase. She throws it against the wall. PETER (CONT’D) (laughing) You moron, that’s your own vase! Janet then turns, looking for one of Peter’s items. She grabs a signed picture of John Elway, one of Peter’s most prized possessions. PETER (CONT’D) No! Dont’ you fucking- She shatters it. PETER (CONT’D) You mother fucking- He grabs one of Janet’s family heirlooms, an antique wooden side table, which he promptly stomps in half. Stunned, Janet decides to up the ante. She goes into her closet, searching all over for something very specific. Curious as to what she could possibly be looking for, Peter watches her, slightly terrified as to her next move. She pulls out a wooden box, which she opens, then pulls out a piece of paper. Janet holds it up, revealing it to be their marriage certificate. PETER (CONT’D) You wouldn’t... Taking him up on his dare, Janet rips it right down the middle, looking Peter dead in the eyes the entire time. Peter is stunned. With a crazed look in his eyes, he walks past Janet and into the bathroom. Janet follows. Peter stands above the toilet and pulls off his wedding band. He looks at Janet, as if hoping for her to beg him to stop, but he gets no such reaction. Peter drops the ring into the toilet. Janet follows suit, pulling off her ring and tossing it into the toilet. The two now stand there, staring at one another while both rings sit at the bottom of the toilet. They both look at the flushing lever, then back at one another. It’s a game of chicken at this point, each one waiting for the other to cave in. But neither lets up. Janet looks into the toilet, then back to Peter, then back to the toilet again, her eyes bolting open. The rings have sunk down the toilet drain, and are completely out of sight. Both of them look terrified, and Peter gets onto his knees and sticks his arm into the toilet, attempting to fish it out. JANET Do you feel them? PETER No! JANET How about if I get a coat hanger? PETER No! I’m trying! Cut to later, and Peter and Janet stand in the bathroom, embarrassed, as a Plumber snakes the rings out of the toilet drain.

I love the furniture store!

Scene 3: EXT. SPACE A red blue nebula expands in the infinite darkness. A black DOT moves against it. CLOSER The Dot is a once white spaceship battered by asteroids. An EXPLOSION on the starboard thruster rocks it off course. INT. SPACESHIP - ENGINE ROOM RED LIGHTS FLASH Narrow platforms crisscross a maze of wiring and conduits that split all verticals: An electronic hedge maze. BOOTS SLAM down on the platform as KERA (30s), ponytail, wearing padded flight suit, drops from a ladder and storms through yelling: KERA: What the hell is going on? Jenner, we’re losing everything. Where are you? Kera peers through corridors of sparking fizzing instruments. JENNER (O.S.): I’m trying to get the gravity well back online. Before we get shredded by these asteroids. Kera finds JENNER (30s), shaved head, dirty uniform, reaching inside a MACHINE as an EXPLOSION rocks them both to the ground. KERA: We don’t have any time. We have to evacuate. JENNER: No. Jenner gets back to the Machine and reaches in. JENNER: I almost got it. KERA: You are a stubborn jack ass to the very end. JENNER: Don’t start. Not if I’m about to die. KERA: We need to leave now! JENNER: You never trusted me. CHA-GOOON as the Machine powers off and Jenner retrieves a small BLACK BOX that looks like a Rubik’s Cube hard drive. JENNER: Got it. Just need to reset it. KERA: Even if you get the well back online, the core has gone critical. JENNER: The well will keep the core stable until we can repair it. Jenner begins to rearrange the segments on the Box. COMPUTER (V.O.): Warning. Life Support is failing on all decks. Re-routing power to decks with crew. Please stay on deck four. KERA: Oh fucking great. We can’t even get to the escape pods now. Jenner works intensely to reset the Box. JENNER: This is why I should be the captain. Because you can’t stay cool under pressure. KERA: I am the captain and my ship is about to be destroyed, but I’m not going to lose any more crew, even if it is my shitty ex-husband. Now let’s go! Kera grabs Jenner’s arm and the Box SHATTERS on the metal platform.

SCENE 3 INT: DINING ROOM-MORNING PAULA AND DOUG ARE HAVING BREAKFAST. A VERY PREGNANT PAULA IS ANGRY WITH DOUG DUE TO HIS JOB AND DECIDES TO BRING UP HER CONCERNS Paula: You sure were out late last night? Doug: I stopped in at the after party and hung out for a while. Paula: I thought you were only putting in an appearance. Doug: The guys wanted to discuss their upcoming tour dates. (Sees Paula roll her eyes) I tried to make it quick, but you know how long winded those guys can be. Paula: Yeah and you know how pregnant I am. Doug: Did something happen? Paula: I wasn’t feeling very well, but Mom came by to check up on me. And Reagan was a sweetie. She was really concerned. Doug: She loves her mother. Paula: Yeah. It’s good to know someone does! Doug: This is how we make our money Paula. I’m sorry I don’t work a 9-5 job. Paula: Oh don’t start that 9-5 shit. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you but things have changed. Doug: How so? Paula: We are not young and free anymore. We have responsibilities and those responsibilities involve our marriage and kids. Doug: Everything I do, I do for you and Rea and the baby. Paula: Would you consider giving up touring and opening that club you used to talk about? Doug: Paula we don’t have the money to sink into a place that may or may not make it. Paula: Would you at least think about it? Doug: I’m gonna go for a jog. Paula: Enjoy your run, but we are not done talking about this. Doug: Of course not. When Doug leaves, Paula begins to clear the table when Doug’s cell phone rings that he left by accident. When Paula goes to pick it up, she is startled by a woman’s voice. Paula: Hello. Siobhan: Is this Doug’s phone? Paula: Yeah. Who are you? Siobhan: The name is Siobhan. I met Doug last night at the after party. Paula: Okay and you need to speak with him about what? Siobhan: The tour manager assistant job. Paula: Well I will be sure to have him call you. Siobhan: Thanks. Have a nice day. (Paula hangs up phone without saying anything) Doug: There’s my phone. Paula: So you’re hiring an assistant? A female assistant? Doug: What? Paula: Is Siobhan your mistress or is she really an actual candidate for this assistant position? Doug: She is one of many possible candidates. Paula: You think you are so slick. Just because I’m pregnant, I 'm not letting you get away with anything. Doug: Get away with what? Paula: Cheating on me. I won’t stand for it. Doug: Paula are you hormonal? I just told you why the woman called. Paula: I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth. Doug: Just give me my phone so I can go jogging. Paula: You want your phone? Here take it! (Goes to hand Doug his phone and throws it against the wall instead where it breaks apart) THE END

Some terrific takes here. Well done!

My Scene 01 INT. HOUSE – NIGHT The door opens and LILY SACHS (30s) slips into the HALL Light filters from outside, but it is dark inside. She clicks the lights on. A small table by the door, with pictures and a vase of flowers, polished wooden floor. She drops the keys on the table, steps across the hall, towards a darkened doorway. LILY Mark? Are you there? She moves through the doorway, into the LIVING ROOM MARK(O.S.) Where the hell have you been? The lights BLAZE, she blinks, raises one hand to shield her eyes. Her husband, MARK HARRIS (30s), hulks over her, red in the face, glass in hand. MARK Where the hell? He sways, raises the glass and gulps, ice cubes clink. Lily frowns at the sight. The room is white and black, with splashes of color here and there–drapes, cushions, vases. A large off-white carpet on the floor. LILY I had a report to finish… MARK Don’t you always? LILY Now, that’s not fair. MARK Isn’t it? LILY Maybe I’ve been having much work lately. But I have to do it. You know how things are. MARK Maybe I don’t know. Maybe I’m the last to know. His face gets redder. Lily stares at him. LILY What? What are you?… MARK Don’t make a fool of me. Don’t try it. (sticks forefinger) Don’t. LILY Mark? Mark? What are you thinking? You must be drunk. Mark ROARS, raises his FIST, Lily FLINCHES, he THROWS the glass, it SMASHES at Lily’s feet, the liquid SPLATTERS her trousers, SPREADS on the carpet. Lily looks at Mark’s twisted face, down at her feet, then up at him again. She sets her jaw. LILY This stain won’t come off. She turns and clops away, across the room. Mark clenches his fists as he watches her receding back.

SCENE 3 INT. CRENDON/ORTEGA HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT It's dark minus filtered streetlight coming through the window. A MAN SMOKES, seated in a worn armchair. His features are hidden from view. He doesn't flinch when a side window slowly opens. * APRIL CRENDON, 25, eases inside. Her lithe frame and pretty face clash with her stained waitress uniform and white orthopedic shoes. Her entrance is smooth until she steps on a bottle shard. APRIL (whispers): Ow! Damn it. A table lamp clicks on. April is startled at the sight of the man, VINCENT ORTEGA, 28, her boyfriend. Though handsome, an air of danger surrounds him. VINCENT: Mind telling me where the hell you been? April opens her mouth to answer but is distracted by the room's disarray. Empty liquor bottles, an abandoned card game, food stains on the carpet - make the place look like a fraternity house. APRIL: Worked a double tonight, and I lost my key. I told you before I left. What happened to the house? VINCENT: One, you ain't say nothing about no double tonight. Two, well, had a little soiree. April sucks her teeth, begins grabbing debris to throw it away. APRIL: Think you can hire a clean-up crew next time? Got to work after I work now. VINCENT: You watch your mouth. April ignores the threat, keeps picking up garbage. Vincent lets her until she reaches for a half-hidden tray under a coffee table. He grabs her around the waist, lust in his eyes. VINCENT (CONT.): C'mon now, Buzzkill. Get it in the morning. I got something else to get right now. APRIL: Uh uh, no. What is this? She breaks away, determined to get the tray. Vincent steps back, takes a long drag of his cigarette. April pulls out the tray, her face falling in the process. Faint white lines cover the tray: cocaine. She stares wordless and angry at Vincent for a moment. APRIL: You know I can't have this here. Why would you-- VINCENT: Baby, I ain't running no rehab and you're a big girl. Now, once I knew you weren't coming home-- APRIL: Oh, ain't that special? Break out some "White Girl" 'cause your warden's gone. Thank God the baby's at Ms. Taylor's. VINCENT: Actually, she, uh - she had somethin' to do, so -- A soft cry comes from the bathroom. Vincent mutters under his breath, knowing he's defeated. April gives him a furious "How could you?" look. VINCENT (CONT.): Now, don't start. He wasn't alone. Carmen was here and she looked in on him, hell, three or four times. APRIL: Carmen? Damn, Vince. You had my baby in the house with that crackhead? VINCENT: Oh, a crackhead? Well, I seem to remember someone who used to love a little blow a while back. Didn't you, baby? He passes the tray slowly beneath her nose and inhales, mocking her. April's eyes well up with tears. She's defenseless. BATHROOM Brian's cries intensify, sucks his hands for comfort. LIVING ROOM April shoves the tray away harder than intended. Vincent drops it due to his drunken state. The remaining cocaine spills onto the carpet, and he scrambles after it. VINCENT: No, no, no. What the hell? You know how much that cost? April, tears flowing freely, tries to go to her crying son. Vincent grabs her calf. She falls, yelps in pain. Vincent's face is contorted now, eyes soulless. He turns her around by grabbing a fistful of her hair. April's face is millimeters from her old drug of choice. VINCENT (CONT.): You gon' stay your ass down here 'til this floor's clean. APRIL: No, please. Let me go see about the baby. Just let me go. They wrestle momentarily until April breaks free by biting Vincent's hand. She runs down the hall and into the bathroom as Vincent screams in pain. She locks the door. BATHROOM April picks Brian up and rubs his back to soothe him. She turns a mobile and a clock radio on as distraction. He calms with her touch. As she bends forward to nuzzle her son, recent bruises are revealed on the back of her neck. APRIL (CONT.): Baby, Mama's saving to get us outta here. Just a few more weeks and we'll have our own place. Would you like that, sweetheart? Loud banging on the door interrupts the tender moment. Both mother and son jump. HALLWAY Vincent hammers on the door again, enraged. VINCENT: Open the damn door, April. You hear me? Come outta there now! April cries, shaking her head "no." The radio's gentle ballad and the mobile's light and shapes clash with the ruckus going on outside. APRIL (singing): Hush little baby, don't say a word/Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird/And if that mock -- Vincent bursts through the door. April screams, clutches her child. Vincent pulls Brian out of her arms and puts him back in his bathtub/bed with too much force. Unharmed but frightened, Brian wails. APRIL (CONT.): No! Give me my baby! Vincent drags a fighting April out of the bathroom. HALLWAY Vince grabs a fistful of her hair, yelling inches from her face. VINCENT: That's $300 in the carpet! You better get that shit up now. Now, April! Gonna yell at me in my house? APRIL: Yes, I am. You won't hurt my child. Motivated by her son, April shoves Vincent into a wall. She snatches a framed photo of them off the wall, hurls it at Vincent. The glass shatters, just missing Vincent's head. BATHROOM Brian cries harder, startled by the noises. HALLWAY Unharmed, Vincent shoves April backwards, aims to punch her, but she ducks. Vincent yells when his fist hits the wall. April tries running for the front door with her. now-attacker scrambling after her. She heads to the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turns to see Vincent right behind her. BATHROOM April's loud scream is from the hallway. A series of THUDS. Brian quiets for a moment at the sound. He pulls himself to standing, still quiet. The mobile and radio keep playing. VINCENT (O.H.): Get up, April. I'm not playing. Brian waits, staring towards the door as if it's transparent. VINCENT (O.H.): Ah, damn. Oh, my God. April? Baby, c'mon. This ain't funny. April? Shit! Vincent's tone startles Brian. He begins crying again, reaching out towards the door. LIVING ROOM Near the front door, Vincent holds an unconscious April on the ground. His monstrous demeanor is now childlike as he cradles her bloodied head, speaks softly through his tears. Brian's cries mix with the radio and mobile in the background. VINCENT: Baby, te amo. Me escuchaste? Lo siento. April? Por favor? BATHROOM Brian is hysterical now, wailing loudly. He reaches his small arms towards the door. VINCENT (to Brian): Shut up!

@IHEATHEN SCENE 3 - July 10 posted. INT. BEDROOM - MORNING JAMES, mid-thirties, crashed out across the bed in tightie-whities and a wife-beater. Snoring loudly, a playstation controller on his chest, he's surrounded by cheeto crumbs and empty beer cans. An ugly ceramic elephant sculpture sits on the night-stand. A TV in the corner shows the playstation is still on, and the screen reads "GAME OVER." The bedroom door is thrown open, and in storms SKY, also mid-thirties. She's in full flight-attendant uniform, big hoop earrings, too much makeup, dragging a wheeled luggage bag behind her. SKY: Really James? Wake up! James doesn't stir. Sky hefts the luggage up on to the bed, narrowly missing James, knocking beer cans onto the floor. She leans over James' face, smacks it repeatedly as she repeats. SKY: Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! James starts awake, swats at her hands, grabs her wrists to stop the slapping. JAMES: Alright!!! Christ!!! SKY: Thanks for picking me up at the airport you dick! JAMES: Ugh... what time is it? SKY: Too late! that's what time it is. You know I had to wait in the taxi line for 35 minutes??? The TAXI LINE James! God! James still trying to shake the cobwebs off. sits up on the bed cross legged. JAMES: Aw. Muffin had to ride with the peasants did she? SKY: Hey! You fucking said you'd pick me up! JAMES: Yeah, well... I had shit to do. SKY: Clearly. JAMES: You know how hard it is to get past level 33? It took me seven hours, but I fucking did it. SKY: Oh my god. Really? I know you're a fucking slacker, but really... this is just so... cliche! JAMES: Fuck me, Sky... Cliche? That's the worst thing you can think of? God forbid. Sky is fuming. She looks around the room, grabs the playstation controller off the bed. SKY: No. It's not the worst thing I can think of. But right now, this will have to do. Sky whips, turns, hurls the playstation controller which whizzes by James' head, directly hits the elephant sculpture, which explodes into bits. JAMES: JESUS FUCK SKY! That was my mother's, what the HELL! Sky looks at the bits of smashed elephant. Catches her breath and scans the room... James in his underwear, smashed elephant bits, cheetos, cans, luggage. The TV. SKY: Game over James. She whirls out, slams the door behind her.

EXT. MANICURED GARDEN, BACK YARD - DAY CHUCK, ~7 months pregnant, tosses food on the barbecue. YOLANDA, due any day, flops down awkwardly on a garden bench. Yolanda clocks her horrifically swollen fingers. YOLANDA: God, my fingers are so fat. CHUCK: Phew! They're like tree trunks. I mean, they're in perfect proportion with the rest of you, honey. It's cute. YOLANDA: You know, I didn't feel so out of it today at the clinic. All the women had to take off their rings. CHUCK: Did you tell all the old married ladies about your cool boyfriend? YOLANDA: They're not old, some of them are barely out of nappies themselves. And at 42 I refuse to have a "boyfriend". CHUCK: Hey, I got a present for the baby, does it remind you of anyone? Chuck produces a soft cuddly toy WHALE. YOLANDA: Your mate, Dessie? He tickles her belly. Yolanda steams with anger. CHUCK: I feel like there's something I need to do. Lawn mown, woman impregnated--ah, barbeque! Chuck dons his position as cremator of sausages. Yolanda struggles to her swollen feet. She extends her ring finger at Chuck. Chuck is offended. CHUCK: It must be the hormones, you're flipping me the bird with the wrong finger, honey. Yolanda storms indoors. Chuck spots her in the corner of his eye, as she glides past the kitchen window, an ominous silhouette, with a protruding bump. CHUCK: (Jaws theme) Da dum, da dum, dadum, dadum, dadum (to Whale) I thought you'd go down a treat. If I wind her up so much, why does she even want to marry me? Chuck lifts up the Whale. Spots the care label. NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN UNDER THREE. HIGHLY FLAMMABLE. CHUCK: Aw, you're out to incriminate me as a bad dad, too. Chuck tosses the Whale, it dives through the air, flips, descends-- CHUCK: Oh, shit! SLOW MOTION Chuck, in horror, recognises the Whale's trajectory, dives for cover behind the bench. A GARDEN GNOME's head swivels, gapes. Too late to escape. Whale and barbeque connect to ignite in a BLAST. An inferno. The whole garden's alight. A FIREBALL whooshes down the yard, throws the Garden Gnome skywards. Yolanda appears, brandishes a FIRE EXTINGUISHER, she hoses the vegetative carnage. CHUCK: (coughs) Must have been a fault with the gas. The Garden Gnome, battered and bruised, peers over a scorched mud trench, evil eyes his nemesis, Chuck.

Scene three follows yesterday's scene two... EXT. CALI COLOMBIA AIRPORT - DAY Majo walks out of the cab and into the airport, she carries several suitcases. INT. CALI COLOMBIA AIRPORT - CHECK-IN COUNTER - DAY Majo walks to the check-in counter, gets in line. In front of her, JAMES (40), tall, impatient blonde man dials on his phone, looks around looking for someone, hangs up. JUANITA (22), beautiful brown haired arrives running with a four year old kid, greets James. JAMES Hurry up, honey. Err... where's your mother? JUANITA Oh, she stayed at home. You know, she's too sentimental, didn't wanted to be here crying all over. JAMES But who's gonna bring your little brother home? He can't walk home by himself. JUANITA Oh, that. He's coming with us, sweetie. Majo eavesdrops the conversation. JAMES Whoa, wait. We never agreed to that. JUANITA Look, honey. I didn't wanted to tell you anything because I didn't wanted to bother you. He's a nice kid, you'll see. JAMES We talked about coming back here every year to visit your family. JUANITA Here's the thing, honey. He's not my little brother. He's my son. JAMES Are you kidding me? Your online profile said you had no kids. JUANITA I know, and I'm sory. JAMES We skyped every day for four months. Four. JUANITA I know, it's all my fault. I was scared. JAMES I spent one week here, with your family. JUANITA And they love you as much as I do. JAMES And during all that time you told me he was your brother. Juanita opens her purse, takes out a plane ticket and a passport. JUANITA Here, look. You won't have to spend a dime. I bought his ticket, he has a passport and a visa. JAMES May I see them? She gives him the passport and the plane ticket. JUANITA It's just a small change in our plans, sweetie. JAMES If you would have told me right from the beginning I would have bought the ticket and helped you with his visa. Juanita smiles, is about to kiss James. JAMES But you lied to me. Juanita rips the plane ticket and passport into pieces. JUANITA No! Why did you do that? JAMES Forget about the wedding. I'm gonna find out a mail-order bride that doesn't lie. JUANITA Please, try to understand. CHECK-IN AGENT (O.S.) Ma'am. Are you going to check in? Majo turns to see the CHECK-IN AGENT (22) behind the counter, Majo is next in line. She walks to the check-in counter still trying to overhear the conversation between Juanita and James. CHECK-IN AGENT Your documents, please. Majo gives the Check-in Agent her plane ticket, passport and luggage. JAMES (O.S.) You lied to me, that's unacceptable. I can forgive anything except that. CHECK-IN AGENT And here's your boarding pass. Thanks for flying with American Airlines. MAJO Thanks. Majo walks away from the check-in counter where James and Juanita still argue.

SCENE 3 INT. HOUSE OF PIES - DAY BRANDY, sitting alone in a booth, stares down at her phone while nervously biting her thumb nail. DING. Brandy looks up for a moment as an elderly couple enters the diner. She lets out a sigh, returning to her phone. Her phone vibrates, BZZT BZZT. She reads a text then places the phone to the side, flipping open the menu, pretending to read it. DING. The front door swings open, as CHASE, his brown UPS uniform crisply ironed, gives Brandy a head nod when he sees her. He comes over, sliding into the booth. Brandy watches a piece of peeling duct-tape, patching a tear in the grey vinyl of the booth, come a little undone as Chase slides past it. CHASE: Hey, babe. Did you already order? BRANDY: (nodding) The usual. Chase nods and smiles, flipping open the menu anyway. They sit across from each other, staring down at their greasy laminated menus. Chase suddenly pops his head up, looking around. CHASE: I could use some- The waitress appears, placing two steaming cups of coffee on the table, as well as a carafe and a small bowl of creamers. BRANDY: I said I ordered the usual. Brandy watches Chase grab a creamer and begin struggling to peel it open. BRANDY: Do you want me to- CHASE: I got it. He gives up on the creamer, grabbing another, and starts trying to peel back the lid, instead peeling back a thin layer of paper on top. Brandy slowly shakes her head as she watches. He stops, tensing up, putting down the creamer and pushing the bowl across the table. CHASE: Be my guest. Brandy calmly picks out a creamer and peels it open, pouring it into her coffee cup. BRANDY: That was difficult. Chase plucks another creamer out of the bowl and pulls on the tab, squeezing the little cup at the same time, causing the container to BREAK, the cream splashing against his face and shirt. He sits frozen, the white creamer dripping from his chin onto his crisp brown shirt. Brandy, eyebrows raised, searches for something to say. BRANDY: Nice… money shot?

INT. STUDIO CITY APARTMENT – NIGHT It is around 8:30 in the evening. MARK, 25 and CATHERINE, 26, are lying in bed, post-coital. Both of them look extremely happy. They are both rather normal-looking, with a slight out-of-shapeness inspired by ice cream and Netflix binges that come from being in a comfortable relationship with somebody for a bit long. Catherine is lying on Mark’s chest. MARK: Have you ever smoked after sex? CATHERINE: Why? Do you want to? MARK: Not really. But there’s gotta be something to it, right? Everybody does it. CATHERINE: Who’s everybody? MARK: You know, like, in the movies. CATHERINE: You’re such a goof, hun. But yes. MARK: What? CATHERINE: I. Have. Smoked. After sex. MARK: Oh. CATHERINE: Oh, come on. MARK: What? CATHERINE: Don’t be all, ‘oh.’ MARK: I’m not being all anything, I’m fine. CATHERINE: You ASKED me. MARK: I know, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I enjoy hearing about you banging some French dude and chain smoking in the afterglow. CATHERINE: French dude. Nice touch. MARK: Thanks. He gets up and goes to the bathroom, we hear him peeing. MARK (off-screen): What’re you up to tomorrow? CATHERINE: Oh, nothing actually. Yoga, journaling a bit. Practicing my monologue. Mark flushes and comes back, sits on the edge of the bed. Catherine looks like she’s expecting him to come back to bed, but he is sitting expectedly on the edge. MARK: That’s cool. I have a lunch meeting at 11. In Altadena. So, I’m getting up early. Yay. CATHERINE: So. You clearly want me to go. MARK: No, you can stay. I just…won’t sleep. CATHERINE: Oh my God. MARK: I’ll go on the couch. CATHERINE: No! I don’t understand this. We’ve slept together maybe four times for our entire relationship. Why can’t you just try? MARK: I DO try. I do. I’ve tried four times, and every time I don’t sleep for a second. Not one. I can just never sleep with a person in the bed beside me. She shoots out of bed and starts putting on her jeans over her underwear and gathering her things. CATHERINE: Whatever, it’s fine. Mark goes over to her and grabs her arm gently. MARK: Cat, I’m sorry. I just can’t sleep. Tonight isn’t a night we should try. I have a huge meeting tomorrow and I need to be ready. Catherine wrenches her arm away violently and stalks past him out the bedroom door. He follows her, right behind her. MARK: Babe! He tries to grab her again. CATHERINE whirls around, phone in hand and accidentally pummels Mark in the nose. A loud crack is heard and Mark doubles over. MARK: Jesus! CATHERINE: Oh my God! Mark is doubled over completely now, and blood is gushing through his hands. CATHERINE: Oh my God I’m sorry I didn’t- MARK (nasally, through his hands): It’s fine. CATHERINE: Is it…? MARK. Yes. Definitely broken. CATHERINE: Again? Oh no. Hold on. She drops her things and runs to the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels. CATHERINE: Here. I’m going to pull around the car. We’re going to the hospital. MARK (playfully): I’m calling abuse. CATHERINE: Shut up. Your nose is the most paper-thin thing I’ve ever heard of. She runs out the door, leaving Mark putting his head back, grabbing the paper towels.

HE: Do you smoke after sex? SHE: I don't know; I've never looked.

SCENE 2 EXT: Street cafe - day A couple, both in their late 20s, sit across from each other at a table in sullen silence. The woman begins using sign language to him, frantically. MAN: I don't understand. You're going too fast. The woman motions for him to use his hands. He attempts, but she can't understand his signing. She shakes her head, disappointed. MAN: I'm just learning, Jesus. Patience. She stares blankly. Nothing he's saying is getting through. MAN: I'm trying. She shakes her head, and holds up her hands, as if to say 'use these.' MAN: Why are you always riding my ass about this. Just read my lips. She stares blankly, resolute. The MAN grabs a pen and a spiral notebook from his backpack and rips out a sheet of paper. He begins to write, but the pen won't work. He scribbles on the paper, but nothing. A GUY sitting at a neighboring table sheepishly offers up a new pen. Before the MAN can use it, the woman snatches the paper, crumples it up, and tosses it. MAN: You're incredible. I told you I'm no good at languages. Just read my fucking lips. She stands up and begins gathering her things. MAN: Wait ... just wait. He picks up his iPad from the table and types 'READ MY LIPS.' She tries to walk away, but he grabs her purse to hold her, and shoves the iPad in her face. MAN: Read my lips. She's having none of it and yanks back on her purse, letting out a yelp. As she pulls, the iPad slips onto the ground between them, and a huge crack opens up right down the center of the screen. She points at her lips, and mouths the words 'read my lips', then raises her middle finger ... sign language even he can understand ... and storms off. He's stunned as he watches her walk away. GUY: Hey man, can I get my pen back?

Thanks for that. Any appreciation is always appreciated.

SCENE 4: INT. MEDIUM’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT ERIC (27), dirty workers’ overalls, stands bored and irritated in a corner. ALISSA (27), not in control of herself or the situation, sits across from the medium. It’s a surprisingly normal-looking room - couches, magazines, book shelves and a surprisingly normal-looking medium. A man, about 40, not the overly credulous type. ALISSA Does it have to be him? MEDIUM The spirit picked him. ERIC I’m losing billable hours over this. ALISSA Thank you for being here, Eric. ERIC No, thank you. MEDIUM Now, Eric, whatever you do, don’t step over that white line you see in front of you? ALISSA Why? MEDIUM That’s the boundary between the living and the dead. Eric could become completely possessed. ERIC Oh excellent. Some favor, Alissa. What if John wants to step over it? MEDIUM You are voluntarily handing over control to John. ERIC Voluntarily. Yeah. I’ve heard that before. He glowers at Alissa. She looks away, furious. The medium doesn’t understand but presses on. MEDIUM Let’s begin. John, are you with us? ERIC As I keep saying to anyone who’ll hear, John hasn’t been with us for at least 5 years now. The lamps shake a bit. ALISSA Stop being an asshole, Eric. ERIC You stop sticking your head in the sand. The curtains rustle... MEDIUM Listen, this is hardly the time --- ALISSA If you didn’t want to channel John, you could have just said no. You’re jealous of him. The lights flicker now. The medium looks around, excited. ERIC Shut up. ALISSA You always wanted to be him! ERIC I always wanted to be with you! And not just for one night. The whole room goes dark. And then the lights come on again. ALISSA Last night was a mistake. I only slept with you because I felt John’s presence in your flat. Silence. And complete stillness. ERIC That was a wind machine. ALISSA What?? ERIC I know a guy who works in event management. MEDIUM You slept together? ERIC With a wind machine, yeah. MEDIUM That was highly... ALISSA Inadvisable? The medium glances down. MEDIUM Oh my God! It’s broken! They look down. Eric’s crossed the white line. MEDIUM (CONT’D) The boundary between living and dead is broken. He looks more thrilled than scared. Alissa looks at Eric. His eyes have turned glassy. ALISSA John?

Scene 3 INT. MAN CAVE - NIGHT John decimates enemy combatants in a video game. Battle over, John eyes an empty beer bottle. He considers his options, then takes leave of his cave. INT. BEDROOM John heads straight to the bathroom door. It's closed. He opens his mouth to speak but stops himself when he notices a faint BUZZING. He puts his ear to the door. He's alarmed. Then angry. HE BUSTS OPEN THE DOOR. INT. BATHROOM Blanche, sitting on the toilet, looks up. John is pissed. He reaches down, out of frame to Blanche's lap, retrieves a still-buzzing vibrator. He emits a low growl, turns on his heels, storms out. INT. BEDROOM Blanche, still hitching up her capri pants, chases after John as he flees the room. BLANCHE: What the fuck do you think you're doing? INT. MAN CAVE Blanche tails John. BLANCHE: Give that back. JOHN: You don't need it. BLANCHE: Fuck, yeah. John opens a closet, pulls out a baseball bat. JOHN: You have me. You don't need a-- a machine to make you happy. He smashes the vibrator with the baseball bat. Blanche grabs the bat, tries to take it from John. He's stronger. She kicks him in the nuts. He lets go. She's got it. JOHN: Fuck! If you want Snake Plissken so bad, why did you kick Snake Plissken? She raises the bat, aims at his video game console. JOHN: No. No. Hey, I'll get you a new vibrator. They're cheap. That console is expensive. She smashes and smashes and smashes. BLANCHE: You don't need a machine to make you happy.

DAY THREE: A lover’s quarrel where something gets broken INT. APARTMENT LIVING ROOM – MORNING JACKSON and LIZBETH are running around a living room and tackling each other. They keep having close calls around tables and fragile vases and lamps. A couple of pieces teeter on their edges, but eventually right themselves. At a certain point, Lizbeth knocks into a table with a ceramic urn on top. She tries to catch it while Jackson watches in horror as the urn slips through her fingers and shatters on the wooden floor. JACKSON: Ooooooooh…you’re going to be in so much trouble. LIZBETH: What do you mean? I told you to stop chasing me, but you kept running. Your mom told you to not chase me no more. JACKSON: Yeah, but what if she… MOM (OFFSCREEN): What’s going on in there?! What was that noise? JACKSON: Um…we, uh…the special vase broke and there’s dust all over. MOM (OFFSCREEN): Oh, my God. There is the sound of someone coming into the living room hurriedly. A woman appears. She looks tired and worried. However, upon noticing the urn, she winces, goes through a number of emotional facial expressions. She clearly tries to calm herself with a few deep breaths, then addresses the children. MOM: What happened in here? LIZBETH (head hanging): Nothing… MOM: Are you sure? Because it looks like my mother is spread all over my aloe plant. Why is she there? JACKSON: Well, it was an accident, but there was lava on the floor and we had to make sure not to step in it because we would have died. In fire. MOM: So what about when you’re stepping in it now? JACKSON: Um… MOM: Did you have to run, by any chance, to avoid this lava? Even after I told you not to and told you about how you both would go into time-out if you did? LIZBETH: Uh. We weren’t really running. It was more like…jogging a little. MOM: After you clean up this mess, you both are in time-out for the rest of the day. Lizbeth, I’m letting your mom know what happened. Jackson’s mom disappears from the room. Lizbeth and Jackson gather around the ashes. LIZBETH: Your grandma was dust? JACKSON: Nuh uh! I saw her before she went to God and she was a old person just like your grandma. LIZBETH: But she looks like dust now. Was she a witch and she could turn into an old lady, but she was normally dust? JACKSON: No! That’s mean. I’m telling your mom if you don’t stop. LIZBETH: I’m already in trouble though. You can’t make it worse. My mom always makes my trouble times hard. I always tell you that. JACKSON: Yeah, well, you’re a dodo for saying it. Mom is going to be really sad and it’s because you ran into the vase. LIZBETH: After you kept chasing me! You are stupid! I don’t know why I have to be here. JACKSON: Because your mom doesn’t want you around, so she puts you with my mom! LIZBETH: You take it back or I’ll tell your mom that you broke your grandma! Jackson’s mom walks back in with a broom, dustpan, and a large mason jar. MOM: I want you both to sweep this all together and put it in this jar. You will then sit in opposite corners of this room until your mom gets here and your dinner. I don’t want to hear you talking to each other at all. She walks back out of the room quickly, shaking her head. The two children get to work sullenly, sweeping as carefully as they possibly can. A few aloe leaves get into the dust, but they don’t notice. Once they finish, there are a few green spots in the jar. They carefully put it on a coffee table, then go separate ways to opposite corners. JACKSON: Stupid. LIZBETH: Ugly. MOM: Quiet!

Scene 17 INT. LIVING ROOM-NIGHT High class. Plush carpet. White everywhere. Fireplace. Floor to ceiling windows look out over the city lights. Penthouse living. A DOOR SLAMS in the foyer. WOMAN'S VOICE: I said I was sorry. A woman strides angrily into the room. She is dressed to the nines. Curve hugging red dress, sequins. Hair swept up with just enough loose to look effortless. This is VERONICA, 30's, an hour pasted red carpet ready. VERONICA: Not good enough. Another woman follows her into the room. Tailored Armani suit, not off the rack. Hair down, flowing. She carries an EMMY statuette. This is Naomi, 30's, polished, funny, but begging at the moment. NAOMI: Look, I got wrapped up in the moment and I was trying to remember everyone who helped... VERONICA: and you left out the most important person. How could you leave you wife out of your acceptance speech? Naomi shrugs. Not the best answer. NAOMI: What do you want me to do? Call the TV stations and tell them I left someone out? You think I won't get flak for this tomorrow. I can just see the headlines now. At this, Veronica whips around. VERONICA: There you go making this all about you. News flash, honey. You got the award, remember! Veronica walks over to the windows and stares out at the city. She watches in the window Naomi’s reflection as she places the statue on the mantel gently. NAOMI: Babe, I'm not making this about me. I swear. I'm under a lot of pressure. I'm carrying the show and everyone is counting on me. Veronica rolls her eyes and takes in the city. She doesn't see Naomi take a selfie with the statue. VERONICA: I'm counting on you. Me. The one who helped you get here. The one who has always been by your side. Dammit, Nai. Veronica turns around just as Naomi slides her phone back in her pocket. Naomi hold her arms old. NAOMI: Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you. I truly am sorry. Please. I'm sorry I hurt you. You know you are my heart and I know who has my back and has had my back for all these years. Veronica softens and takes a few steps toward Naomi. Veronica's phone pings. She pulls it out of her evening bag and checks her messages. SCREEN: Instagram: A picture of Naomi posing in front of the EMMY statue on the mantel. The caption reads: Me and #EMMY living it up. Love her. #Award #EMMYAWARDS #loveit Veronica is livid. She blows past Naomi and beelines for the Emmy. She snatches it off the mantel and in one power motion slams it to the ground. The statue breaks into three golden pieces. NAOMI: WHAT THE HELL RONNIE!?!?!? Veronica snaps a pic of the golden carnage and posts: SCREEN: Instagram: A picture of the Statue pieces. #EMMY fucked with the wrong girl. #youreanasshole #emmyawards #overit

EXT. VILLAGE - DAY From on high, we watch VILLAGERS run screaming as the RUMBLE gets closer. The Church bells TOLL, warning those that haven't felt the ground shake that they have to flee... Some barely make it. One VILLAGER FAMILY escape their house only seconds before it is destroyed by a flying boulder... We pan round to see where the boulder came from... MAGOG (1496) stands ferocious, her 100-foot tall frame casting shadows over the small village below. She continues to fling the boulders, crying giant tears that soak the ground below. MAGOG: You love her, don't you? Out of boulders, she finds the next thing to throw. She picks up the Miller's house and hurls it at GOG (1536) who is standing gigantic on the other side of the valley... GOG: No darling. You know you are the only one for me. Magog is having none of it... MAGOG: No, no, no. You love her tiny little body, with her tiny little feet, and her tiny little toes. She looks down at her own feet. Lifting one she finds a farmer's cart crushed beneath it. MAGOG: I bet her feet don't crush carts. She scoops up the remnants of the cart and hurl those. This time she finally scores a hit, as the left wheel smacks squarely into Gog's forehead. He rubs his head with one massive hand and then outstretches the other to Magog across the village, plunging it into darkness. GOG: Darling. I love your feet. Who wants tiny feet when you can have size 297. I was just lending her a hand... Gog sees that Magog is wavering... GOG: She just needed a lift up the mountain. She wanted to see the valley from the top, so I gave her a helping hand, that was all... MAGOG: Are you sure? GOG: Of course my petal. I only have eyes for you. Who wants little when you can have big! Magog smiles and run to him across the valley, destroying house after house on her way...

SCENE 3 EXT. LIVING ROOM IRATE IRENE is extemely vexed and SORRY SID is totally ashamed of himself. IRATE IRENE: What did I say? How many times have i said it before? And you just don't listen. SORRY SID: How many times do you want me to say it...I'm sorry. IRATE IRENE: Well that's not enough... You can never make this up to me. SORRY SID: I just didn't think it would happen. IRATE IRENE: How many times have I told you not to swing that stupid golf club in this house? SORRY SID: (a beat) I don't know. IRATE IRENE: You don't...? More times than I can remember. I think you're doing this deliberately to drive me insane. SORRY SID: What else can I say...I'm sorry, I'm stupid. IRATE IRENE: Stupid...? You smash the urn of my mother. And her ashes are all over the floor... Practising your stupid gold swing in this house... Are you serious? That's more than stupid I would say! FADE OUT.

Scene Three.