Scene 8 INT. KITCHEN – DAY YOLANDA MARQUEZ (55) is holding a large chef's knife in her hand. She lifts it up and starts cutting vegetables very professionally on a chopping board in a Mexican style kitchen. Behind her, a large ceramic pot of water is boiling in the fire. In a small shelf next to the fridge there is a small television playing a Mexican Telenovela. In the screen, in an obvious looking TV set depicting a sacristy, FERNANDO RAMIRO (early 20s) in an elegant tuxedo is talking with MARIA EUGENIA (early 50s) who is dressed in an elegant and expensive looking red dress with matching purse and hat. Their over dramatic exchanges occur on the screen. FERNANDO: Tía. Why did you brought me here? Esperanza Amelia will arrive in any minute. MARIA: I am sorry Fernando Ramiro, but there is something I need to tell you. FERNANDO: But, can't it wait? MARIA: No. I'm sorry, but it's about your mother. FERNANDO: Is there something wrong with my mami? MARIA: No. It's not about Angelica Dominga. It's about your real mother. Yolanda stops her chopping when she hears this. She puts the knife down and pays full attention to the screen. FERNANDO: My real mother? She died when I was two. You know that. MARIA: We told you that to protect you... but the truth is that... I am your mother. Dramatic music rises from the TV set. Yolanda gasps in suprise and brings her hands to her mouth. YOLANDA: I knew it! FERNANDO: You? My mother? MARIA: Yes. Let me explain. FERNANDO: You are not my mother. Yolanda takes a small piece of carrot and puts it in her mouth without blinking. MARIA: Please don't say that! FERNANDO: You left me. You abandoned me. MARIA: But I had to. I had no choice. FERNANDO: You always have a choice. You chose the good life. I know your story. MARIA: Lies. All lies! Besides, I sent you money. FERNANDO: I don't care about the money. I wanted a mother, and mami was there when I needed her, when I hurt myself, when needed support, when I needed a hug. Yolanda begins to tear up. MARIA: Please, forgive me. FERNANDO: Never. You have never been and you will never be my mother. The dramatic music raises to a climax. The screen cuts to a detergent commercial. Yolanda is left crying in the kitchen. She takes some deep breaths and takes out her cellphone. She selects “Alejandra”. The phone rings. A young woman's voice replies on the other side. ALEJANDRA: (on the phone) Mami? Is everything okay? YOLANDA: Si m'hija. I only wanted to tell you that I love you very much. ALEJANDRA: (on the phone) Mom, I was in class. Are you watching telenovelas again? YOLANDA: Come on. I only wanted to let you know... ALEJANDRA: (on the phone) I need to go. I need to get back to class. I'll see you this afternoon. Click. End of call. YOLANDA: (angrily) Ingrata. Yolanda grabs the knife again and continues chopping with more fervour than before. The TV shows an add for a supermarket. Onions on sale.

INT. SALIM’S BROILER KITCHEN, MUMBAI - DAY SALIM, a butcher, slices a chicken into various cuts. He arranges them for sale on styrofoam plates. Behind him, in narrow cages, live birds lie twitching, legs tied so they cannot move. Ten-year-old BIKRAM runs in, winded. Faintly HEARD: BIKRAM’S MOM (O.S.): Bikram! Bikram! Bikram stares at Salim confrontationally. His eyes move to the caged birds, grimy walls, spattered blood stains. SALIM: Is your name Bikram? No response. Salim slices slowly while looking at the boy. SALIM: I think that’s your mother-- BIKRAM: You have no right to this. Salim puts down his knife. SALIM: To do what, son? Make a living? BIKRAM: To treat these animals like this. SALIM: Well, I believe that if you can kill an animal, you can eat it. BIKRAM: You gonna eat all these chickens mister? Salim looks stumped. Bikram points to the cages. BIKRAM: They’re still alive, you know? They see you. They know what’s coming. Salim laughs at this. SALIM: Don’t you worry about that little boy. The way I do it, it's done before they know it. Bikram’s mom runs in. BIKRAM’S MOM: Oh thank God! Here you are! She hugs Bikram, leads him out. Salim shakes his head, goes to a cage. He grabs a stuggling bird. It tries to peck him but can’t. Salim expertly holds the animal down on his chopping board, butcher’s knife held high in the other hand. Salim brings the knife down swiftly, at the same time catching the bird’s eye staring up at him. Salim stops mid-act. The animal thrashes about in his vise grip. Salim picks up the chicken, unsure. He strokes it gently. The bird stays still, watches Salim. A tear slides down Salim’s face.

FEEDBACK 02 Hey Ricardo, I've to say I absolutely loved this scene and found it pretty well flawless. I was laughing myself and feeling quite sorry for Yolanda when she calls her daughter. Perhaps the only thing I would say is that Fernando's reaction when Maria tells him she's his real mother seems a bit detached for being the wronged son. I especially felt this in the line, "you left me. You abandoned me." A little OTN? Or is that what you were going for? I think it would have been safe to venture into the zone of soapy melodrama here. It might make it even funnier. Really good stuff and a joy to read.

FEEDBACK 10 I love how this little boy, who's really just an annoyance for Salim, leads to a change of heart for him. I do feel like Salim's emotional shift is a little abrupt - he goes from completely discounting what Bikram is saying to having so much empathy for the bird that it brings him to tears in a really short period of time.

Hi Uzma Thanks for your comments. I wanted to go deeper on Mexican soap opera melodramatics but I was afraid of running out of space. A conversation like this in an actual Telenovela would extend for at least for 10 more minutes. Glad you liked it. RB

Uzma FEEDBACK 2 Great scene. If I were to nitpick I would suggest moving the description of the place (grimy walls, spattered blood stains) at the beginning of the scene and maybe expand on it further. This way we can get a visual image of the place before the dialog begins. You are also missing a "do" in Bikram's dialogue: "You have no right to (do) this". Other than that, this is a quite good and realistic scene. Sufficient to say that you have effectively put me off chicken for a while. Guess it's back to veal. ;) Well done. RB

Scene 3 Ext. – Garden lawn – Late evening hours Flawless Joanna can’t look more beautiful than this, white Dress covered with a loose almond cardigan. Foster, in a classical black suite, shares a cupcake with Joanna while sitting on the party dinner table. The table filled with numerous seats, is almost vacant but the couple don’t notice it. Freddie arrives, coughs on purpose to break the spell. Freddie - Anniversary today Foster, not your freshman year. Get up Joanna notices Freddie turning red, all laugh except Foster. Joanna holds Cute Foster's hand Samantha, short heighted, not by any means a beauty enters the conversation. But no one notices, she stands with a book in her hand. Joanna looks at her, a welcoming smile, but Samantha eyes Foster. Something aint right about this girl, but there never was. Samantha exits, stands at a distance from the group. She takes a glass of champagne, and looks in the direction of the couple. Joanna leaves the group and joins lonely Samantha, who is still looking at Foster and sips Joanna, not comfortable with silence breaks in Joanna - Enjoyed the party, Sam Samantha, does not responds, just nods Samantha- I am happy for you both, Jo Looks towards Joanna, her eyes filled with tears up to the brim Samantha (Cont’d)- But I got to admit Joanna - Sam, don’t. Few things are better unsaid Presses her both lips inwards and nods at Samantha Joanna - I know you always had a heart for him. Samantha looks at Foster, takes a deep breath, sighs Gives Joanna the book Samantha-Returning what is yours. (Beat) What hurts the most Jo, you never knew it. That hurts Samantha leaves Jo opens the book JO POV : Front page, “ Take care” , a heart beside it She flips few pages, photographs of college- Joanna, Samantha, Freddie and others in skiing gear Few more, then close up shots of Joanna, Joanna smiling, running, waving a bye, a selfie with Samantha, both walking on shore side, Joanna hiding her face…. Just Joanna It was always her

Scene 09 INT. BEDROOM - DAY The door opens and a slice of light comes in, alleviates the murkiness the exiguous, poorly furnished space. Plump JOAN (30s) steps in. Emaciated JACK (30s) lies still, fully dressed, on the bed. JOAN I cain't do it all alone much longer. I need you back on your feet, not lying in bed all day. JACK How I'd love that. But... first the stroke, now the arthritis... I was a concert pianist on my way up. (looks at hands) Now I couldn't even use a piano wire to strangle people. JOAN Huh... You might could get a normal job. Deliverin' office supplies--or cookies. JACK That's just not me. JOAN It's a terrible situation, but you gotta get over it. I shouldn't even have to ask you to help me, don't you think? JACK Sure... But we still have some money left from my last tour. I need more time to figure out what I can do. JOAN Sorry, but you gotta get startin' right now, we don't have no more time, we'll be needin' the money soon. I'm pregnant. Jack half-rises from the bed. JACK What? Pregnant? Now? JOAN I didn't tell you afore 'cause I was afraid to trigger your... depression. Them doctors said-- JACK It wasn't depression, or delusion. There ARE malevolent beings conspiring to heap misery on me. JOAN Oh, Jack. Bless your heart. Gordon and Roy ain't real. Jack collapses back onto the bed. JACK I had a dream for myself, and they put an end to it. Now I have nothing. JOAN So, our baby, me... We mean nothin' to you? That sure is mighty good to know. She turns away as her eyes brim with tears.

Scene 2 INT. CHURCH - DAY ANDY — in a tuxedo — taps a spoon against a champagne glass. ANDY: They say marriage is about give and take. Well, my dad took my mom’s virginity and gave her me and then disappeared from our lives. But it turns out I didn’t need a dad because mom was pretty much a lady-man who could do it all, or a lesbian couple where they have to switch back and forth between being a mom and being a dad. PEOPLE IN THE PEWS stare. All somber and dressed in black. This isn’t a wedding, it’s a funeral. Andy’s mother lies behind him in an open casket. Andy’s DOG sits at his feet in a doggie tuxedo. Andy tears up a little and wipes them away. ANDY: Point is, my mom had so much love in her heart that it finally stopped working. And I’m gonna miss her, but she hated funerals and loved weddings, so please join me in celebrating her union with death. The church didn’t want me passing out champagne and I forgot to bring extra glasses anyway, so if y’all wouldn’t mind pretending, let us raise our glasses... Andy holds up his glass of champagne to the casket. Some people in the pews hold up their hands like they have fake “glasses” while others just look around confused. ANDY: To mom. I hope I always make you as proud of me as I was of you. SILENCE. Andy pours a little champagne on the ground for the dog and drinks the rest himself.

Feedback 2 I really liked this. The vocabulary in the first description held me back and put me on edge. I would keep that simpler so no one feels like they need a thesaurus on their desk when they read -- I'm all for a film that makes you think, I just like to get that out of the situations and characters and not the words used to set that up.

Scene 1 INT. PRISON VISITATION BOOTH - EVENING ANDY sits rigidly on a metal chair, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Stark, blank walls. Stark, blank faces of the visitors in other booths, of the prisoners behind the glass. The fluorescent lights make everything ugly. Andy tenses as her mother, MARIE, is escorted to her seat behind the glass. Sallow, paper skin, and dark circles under her eyes. Suffering from drug withdrawals. Marie is hard to look at. Andy glances away as Marie picks up the phone, hand trembling. Andy hesitates. She looks up, meets her mother's gaze. She resolutely grabs the phone, pressing it to her ear. MARIE: Hey, baby girl. Lord, I've been missin' you girls. ANDY: Don't. Marie stares. Andy's not sure if the concern in her eyes is real. She hasn't seen her mother this sober in years. MARIE: You're still pissed at me. I get it. Now, I know none of this should've happened. I never meant for-- Andy slams her fist against the table. She grips the phone tightly, knuckles blanching. ANDY: I didn't come here for bullshit excuses, all right? I've been hearing those all my goddamn life. MARIE: I ain't spouting any excuses, girl. I'm just trying to explain myself. No one here's let me explain myself right. They ain't helping me or nothing. I can't even think straight no more. My head feels like it'll explode if they don't give me somethin. ANDY: Don't make this about you. Don't make yourself the victim here. You put Jamie and me in danger. You brought some drug dealing asshole to our home. You put us in this situation, Mama, the least you can do is own up to it. Pause. Stare down. MARIE: Then, what'd you come here for? Last you said to me, you never wanted to see me again. Andy lowers her voice, aware of the other visitors peering over at her with annoyance. ANDY: I know what I said, and I meant it. I just couldn't think of anything else to do. I have no other options. MARIE: What'd you need my help for? I don't got any money. ANDY: We don't need your money. Your mother's provided us with everything we need. Pause. Andy's face reflects in the glass, melding with Marie's. Something flickers in Marie's expression that's akin to fear as Andy's words sink in. MARIE: What's happened? Did she...did my mother do something? Andy shakes her head. Shaky inhale. ANDY: It's not about your mother. It's about her property. There's--there's something in the house, isn't there? Something bad. Andy watches, wide-eyed, as Marie's face crumples. Marie slumps over, shoulders shaking with sobs, free hand covering her mouth. These aren't the crocodile tears Andy's used to seeing. ANDY: Mama? MARIE: You've seen it, too?

FEEDBACK 1 This is a great scene. I particularly like the moment where Salim strokes the chicken's feathers. Very moving. It will definitely stick with an audience for a while. One suggestion I'd give is to maybe add a little more to Bikram's dialogue/movements to make him sound more convincingly like a 10-year-old boy. Maybe he could pick up something on the counter, like a utensil or some food, toss it in the air or something. Kids like to interact with their environment. Not sure if "you have no right" sounds like a 10-year-old to me. But it still works. Just a little nitpick.

FEEDBACK 7 Roy Nice scene, my man. However (you knew this was coming), other than the lingo used in the initial description (I agree with Tillery) what this scene needs is a bit more clear description of the characters and the setting. For example, Joan comes out as a non-educated person, but we need a bit more to work on than just that. Is she a southern-belle 15 minutes past her prime? Are they living in squalor or is Jack into feng-shui? Also, poor Jack. I mean, a former classical pianist, recovering from a stroke, a bout of depression, arthritis and schizophrenia all before his 40th birthday? Ouch. Loved the inclusion of Gordon and Roy as the voices in his head (Jack is actually right about that one). Cheers! RB

SCENE EIGHT BEDROOM – MORNING A man, in a suit, sits down on the bed and holds the hand of his wife, who's lying in bed, healing from a surgery. He looks into the eyes of his wife. MAN: you know what, honey, I can stay. I don't need to be at the meeting The wife smiles gently at him. WIFE: I'm fine, you can go. The man opens his suitcase and searches for his notebook. WIFE: what are you doing? MAN: I'm going to call them and ask them to use video call. We live in the 21st century. WIFE: don't do that. You know some will use it against you. MAN: they don't have a sick wife who needs me WIFE: there is nothing you can do for me. The nurse will be here in a minute MAN: She should have been here already. I don't understand her. WIFE: relax. She'll be here. She looks at him with all the love one could have for their partner. WIFE: Go beat them. Show them what you've got. That account is yours. She adjusts his lucky tie. WIFE: you're great. Keep that in mind. The man kisses his wife. MAN (shouts): yoh, Brian, where are you? Brian, 8-year-old, rushes in. BRIAN: yes, daddy MAN: I'm leaving. I'll be back on Monday. You've got my telephone number. The nurse will be here in a minute and your grandma is here in an hour. BRIAN: yes, you told that. MAN: what are you going to do when I'm gone? BRIAN: I'm going to protect the house and mum. I'm the man of the house The man is astonished and then laughs. His wife joins him. MAN: okay, listen, man of the house, I want you to do your homework and keep quiet. No friends in the house and let grandma know with whom you're playing outside and where. He looks at Brian, his eyes tight. MAN: Got it? Brian stands straight and taps his forehand like a marine guy. BRIAN: you can count on me. The man stifles his tears and high-fives with Brian. He hugs and kisses his wife and leaves the room. HALLWAY BRIAN (V.O.): don't you worry mum, you'll gonna be fine. I prayed for God and he always says yes. The man opens the door, listens to his son's words and wipes away a teardrop. He leaves the house.

Although I didn't use a thesaurus (this time) I totally get what you're saying. Thanks, Tillery

Hi, Ricardo Yes, this is mostly dialog, it could use some more description and action for a fuller scene. Well, aren't we supposed to put our characters through the wringer? Have a cookie.

Scene 10 INT. NORTH VALLEY VETERINARY CLINIC – DAY DIXIE, (13) a chocolate Labrador Retriever, lays on the table of a veterinary examining room. BOBBY LEE, (52), dressed in a plaid flannel shirt with a camouflage cap on his head is petting her. BOBBY: Not much longer, Dix. Doc Nelson’s gonna get you fixed up. Yeah. Dixie picks up her head and nudges Bobby’s hand with her nose. Bobby rubs her ears. BOBBY: Always the ears. Ever since you was a pup. Dixie closes her eyes and sinks into the ear rub. BOBBY: Yeah, that’s my girl. Just a little shot and then we’ll find us a dirty field, them pheasants are just waiting for us. Yeah. Dixie perks up. Bobby starts rubbing her neck. BOBBY: Yeah, pheasants. Dixie’s ears are up, her eyes bright. BOBBY: Maybe find us a whole brood. DR. NELSON, an elderly bespectacled man in a white coat enters the room. He pauses for a moment, a small, sad smile on his face. He moves over to the table and scratches Dixie’s head. BOBBY: Yeah, see Dix, here he is. Doc Nelson’s gonna take care of you. Dr. Nelson sighs. DR. NELSON: Bobby…. Bobby looks up. Dr. Nelson continues to rub Dixie’s head. DR. NELSON: A shot’s not going to work this time. The x-rays…. Dr. Nelson shakes his head. DR. NELSON: Her arthritis is just too advanced. Amazing, really that she’s been pushing herself this long. Bobby exhales, completely deflated. BOBBY: Yeah, ok, yeah. DR. NELSON: She’s had a great life. BOBBY: Yeah, best bird dog I ever had. She loved it, ya know. DR. NELSON: I know. Bobby rubs Dixie’s ears. BOBBY: You were the best, Dix. DR. NELSON: Do you want some time? Bobby shakes his head. Dr, Nelson prepares the syringe. BOBBY: Wait. Dr. Nelson pauses. BOBBY: Ok, Dixie. You go find you some pheasants. (Dixie’s ears perk up). You go find you a whole brood. Bobby nods. Dr. Nelson sticks the needle into Dixie’s leg. There are tears streaming down Bobby’s face.