Scene 09 INT. SPORTS ARENA Two men, RED jersey and BLUE jersey (which one will you choose?), in medium closeups so we don't see what's around them, but can hear the low humming of faraway human voices. BLUE So, we meet again. RED And for the last time. BLUE Oh, giving up already? RED Never. Gonna wipe the floor with you. He motions as if handling a long floor brush. BLUE That's not the proper way to do it, and that's why you lose and will always lose, loser. RED You wouldn't win even if we were playing paper, rock, scissors. BLUE Scissors? You can't handle scissors. RED You can't handle the broom. BLUE You can't handle your dick. RED Your sister can handle my dick. BLUE Nobody likes floppy tiny wieners. Red pushes his face a fraction of an inch from Blue's. RED I think you're going too far. BLUE I think we should get this going. They stare at each other... turn their backs and march away. We pull back... The floor they're walking on is an ice sheet. A few people seated orderly on bench seats. And as Blue and Red walk to their TEAMS, we realize we're smack in the middle of the exciting and cut-throating world of... Curling.

SCENE #16: EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - NIGHT MARTIN, the quarterback for the Moremont Tigers, throws the ball over to REGGIE the wide receiver. Reggie catches the ball with one hand. The OPPOSING SAFETY tackles Reggie hard, knocking the ball out of bounds. The REFEREE blows his whistle. REFEREE: Incomplete. Fourth down. OPPOSING SAFETY: How do you like that? How does it feel to finally get fucked? Reggie isn't getting up. Martin runs up to the two. MARTIN: Hey, shut the hell up. OPPOSING SAFETY: Oh, is his boyfriend coming to help? MARTIN: Have some respect, he hasn't even gotten up yet. Reggie moves a hand up. REGGIE: I'm good. MARTIN: Bullshit you're good. Medic! The paramedics start running in when Reggie gets himself back up. The paramedics grumble back to their station. REGGIE: See, no problem. MARTIN (to Opposing Safety): What the fuck is with you? OPPOSING SAFETY: What, I can't say anything? You too much of a pussy for it? MARTIN: Won't be saying that when I kick your ass. Opposing safety laughs into his fist. He takes his helmet off. OPPOSING SAFETY: Want to settle this here? The referees look at the two, whistles at the ready. COACH WASHINGTON throws down his clipboard. COUCH WASHINGTON: Martin, get the fuck back here. Martin gives the opposing safety the stink eye as he goes back to the sidelines. The opposing safety laughs as he gets his helmet and puts it back on. OPPOSING SAFETY: If I meet you again, I'll fuck you up more than your boyfriend there. Martin starts to run back as Reggie and the couch holds him back. REGGIE: It's not worth it, dude. Reggie and the couch lets go as Martin heads to his bench and sits down. He shakes his head as the safety grins.

SCENE #10 EXT. FIELD - DAY Close on the green and white field. You can almost smell the freshly cut grass and painted lines. We pan out to reveal a pair of rusty metal bleachers, one close, the other on the opposite end of the field. A few fans sit, stoic, attention cemented off screen. What few clouds in the sky float lazily past. Almost a serene moment. And the, bursting on screen, comes the mini mob of players. CHILDREN (6 - 8), wearing contrasting colors, all making clumsily attempts at the soccer ball between them, the once perfect grass bursting like shrapnel beneath their spikes. It is disorganized, but cute, heartfelt. Until a WOMAN (30s), heavyset, flies like a cannon to her feet on the closer stands. WOMAN Henry, stop playin' wit yerself and get the goddammit ball! Momma wants that ball! A MAN (40s), thin, balding, flinches at the voice. WOMAN Momma wants the goddammit ball! MAN Language. Wrong move. The woman turns with unexpected speed. WOMAN Wut you say!? MAN There are children present. WOMAN Grace be God there nunna yers out there. MAN Actually my son-- WOMAN The one pickin' his butt when he should be makin' fer the ball? (back at her son) Henry, ya little shit, use the footwork momma taught you! The other parents start throwing the woman glances. MAN You shouldn't talk to your son like that. WOMAN You should talk ~ta yers, teach him the difference between a butterfly and a ball. MAN As long as he's having fun- WOMAN (towards the field) Offsides ref, OFFSIDES! What're ya blind? The ref (16) turns and shakes his head at the immaturity. The woman then turns back to the man and smirks. WOMAN §§Losing ain't fun. MAN (without missing a beat) §Well, I guess you'd know, since you've lost the battle with pastries a long time ago. That shuts her up. The stands freeze over, woman agape, man refocused on the game, the others watching intently to see what happens next. Off focus, the goalie is leaning over to pick up a flower. Another player trips and falls on the ball, which rolls lazily into the net. The man smiles, claps his hands, and glances back at the woman, who looks like she's going to pop his head off like a cork. MAN Looks like my son scored. The woman and the others remember the game. The stands erupt, except for the woman, who sinks back into her seat, quiet for once.

Feedback 2 I liked your description of how the goal was scored - loved that it was in the most delicate way imaginable! :) The female character really comes to life and you can picture her straight away, I would have loved a few more words of description on the man to really build up a picture of their differences.

A good scene, some tension, a bit of a story arc. The only area that needs much attention is the descriptives: ...the other on the opposite end of the field...CHILDREN (6 – 8)... There may be someplace like this, but generally stands are not at opposite ends of a soccer field. Age ranges are a lot tighter than that. You have a precisely detailed, almost professional, field and a REF, but no coaches. ...grass bursting like shrapnel beneath their spikes.... Similes or metaphors that don't work well are a potential reader-stopper. Here, I know what you mean, but 'shrapnel' has no established thematic or motif connection to the situation, so the simile is a bit off. ...a WOMAN (30s), heavyset, flies like a cannon to her feet... Cannons don't fly. A reader-stopper. ...the stands freeze over... I have no idea what that looks like. Emphasize clarity a little more in your descriptives, and the scene makes a very nice read.

EXT. DIVING AREA - BELIZE - DAY Barry sits in a luxury power boat by the coral reefs of tropical paradise. He and Liz are out for a dive. LIZ: This is the life. BARRY: I could spend the foreseeable future in Belize. LIZ: Heaven! BARRY: Heaven? Why did I think you were thinking 'haven?' LIZ: Heaven. I said 'heaven,' Counselor. Barry looks upwards, soaking up the sun. BARRY: It's a sure bet the weather will always be perfect here. LIZ: What if it weren't? They ponder this for a beat, then don scuba gear and plop into the crystalline blue waters. UNDERWATER The area teems with slow-moving psychedelic life. Coral, rays, fish. Sharks. Liz and Barry pop up from the sea. They take off their fins and board the boat. Removing the rest of their gear, they dry themselves with towels. They sit, watching the sunset. LIZ: So, what if it weren't? Liz reaches for a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. She hands one to Barry. BARRY: Weren't what? LIZ: If the weather wasn't perfect, what would you do? Barry takes a sip from his glass. BARRY: A weather derivative? LIZ: I've done them before. Alternative investing products. Based on a Hovmoller diagrams and aerography charts.

FEEDBACK #13 Steven, Hi, this is a perfectly serviceable scene, I think--nothing overwhelmingly exciting, but okay as part of a story that advances in later scenes. Seems like a reasonable interpretation of football, though I admit I'm a baseball girl myself. A typo or two, but fine otherwise.

Feedback #9 I really love your introductory descriptives. They bring the soccer pitch to life and I'm hooked when you surprise me with kids coming out rather than professional players. It sets the tone that this won't be what we expect - it will be a parody. Then we get into the direct comedy, which is the loudmouth mother talking up a storm and ruining it for everyone. She annoyed me (as she was meant to), but the man didn't have enough character for me to know whether he was standing up for decency or simply an irritable old man. That distinction would help us root for him and feel some positive energy in contrast to hers. I love the way the child scores the goal. Maybe you can insinutate that the MAN's son scored by him saying "TIMMY, you did it! You did it! All that practice paid off!" Timmy waves at his dad, then trips and falls on his chin. While everyone cheers, both WOMAN and MAN sit grumpily back into their seat. Nice work!

That was pretty good. The insults and smack talk were right on the level. I could believe in that exchange. Critique: I can understand the need for the impact at the end... "Oh, it's curling". I wonder if it would be better served if you do set it up that we know we're in an ice arena and lead us to believe we're about to watch a hockey match. So, you give us that level of expectation, and then rip it all away from us.

EXT. ROYAL GARDENS - DAY Under the shade of magnificent trees a row of beautiful lords and ladies are enjoying the day's festivities. A string quartet prattles off the latest Beethoven with some Mozart thrown to mix it up a bit. Opposite of the ones in the shade are another group of lords and ladies suffering the sweltering heat in their heavy clothes. The servants are required to stand in the sun. Between the two groups two men are fencing. DENIS DE BELLEMARE (22, dissolute, stylish, focused) toys with his opponent, HENRI (21, formal). Denis lets Henri think he's gaining the upper hand. DENIS: Have mercy, ye paunchy dewberry! Henri comes after Denis harder, but Denis casually defends himself. HENRI: Ye gnarling weak-brained rat! Henri lunges forward for the final point, but Denis slowly moves out of way and slaps Henri on the buttocks with the foil. Henri falls to the ground defeated. Servants run over to Denis one takes his foil, another his glove and another hands him wine to drink as he walks into the shade. No one helps Henri. DENIS: Is there not one of ye loggerheads who can defeat me? SHADED LORD ONE: They're too engorged on cheap wine and salted foods to prove much of a challenge. The shaded lords and ladies laugh. VOICE (O.S.): Maybe the stakes are too low? DENIS: Who said that? LČANE AUFFRYE (22, adventurous, political, erratic) steps forward. Her mother, FLORENCE (42, determined) and AUNT (38, cultured) try to hold Lčane back. LČANE: Me, ye villainous white-livered rabbit-sucker. Both sides gasp. DENIS: I think you forget ye place. Go back to thy chamber and wait for a man before you turn in to a spinster like ye aunt. LČANE: Perhaps it's best. You're scared you may be defeated by a woman. DENIS: A wench such as yourself? Please, depart from here before you soil your already tart reputation. LČANE: Concede and know I am your superior. Denis tosses his wine glass onto the ground and crushes it with his foot. DENIS: Know this... no woman will ever be my or any man's superior. LČANE: We shall see. Lčane removes her dress and strips to her breeches and tunic. She tosses her wig aside and ties her hair back. Parties in both the shade and sun pretend to shield their eyes from this wanton display. Lčane takes the sword and stands in front of Denis. DENIS: Wait... what are we playing for? LČANE: Everything.