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TwoBrad Bradley
08-19-2009, 01:23 PM
Post away. One story, one page.

Here's mine, "Black Cat":

BLACK CAT



INT. BEDROOM - DAY

Curtains drawn. A lone figure lies in the center of a musty
king-sized bed. MARSHALL, 82, struggles to breathe. A final
gasp and all the muscles in his face and body gradually surrender.

INT. LARGE DINING ROOM - DAY - FLASHBACK

A huge family is gathered for the Christmas feast. Marshall,
now 67, stands at the end of the table with carving knife in
hand. He throws the turkey to the floor.

MARSHALL
After still another year you're all
a disappointment to me. You are
all cut from the will.

INT. FACTORY FLOOR - DAY - FLASHBACK

Marshall, now 45, addresses his 200 employees. He tries to
hold back a smile.

MARSHALL
I've just sold my business for a
lot of money. The new owners are
moving the operation to Mexico.
You all need to start looking for
other jobs.

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY - FLASHBACK

A black cat walks across Marshall's, now 29, path. He kicks it.

INT. CHINESE RESTRAUANT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Friends and family are gathered to celebrate Marshall's 21st
birthday. It is his turn to read his fortune. He cracks the
cookie, smooths the tiny strip of paper.

MARSHALL
"You will make many people very
happy."

ALL (IN UNISON)
... in bed.

bioprofessor
08-19-2009, 08:13 PM
CHANCE ENCOUNTER.

Based on my encounter with two escaped convicts on a forest trail.


FADE IN:

EXT. FOREST TRAIL - NIGHT

The final moments of daylight fade. SPITZER, 64, unclasps
his radio.

SPITZER
Checked campsite permits. Returning
to base. Over.

BASE OPERATOR
Copy. Congrats Spitzer. Tomorrow
you're just another tourist. Over.

Spitzer smiles.

BASE OPERATOR
Uh, standby... State Police special
advisory -

A loud BUP-BUP-BUP-BUP... drowns out the Base Operator.

A helicopter circles, searchlight piercing the darkness.
SHADOWS on the trail. Spitzer raises his flashlight. TWO
MEN gasping for breath.

SPITZER
Can I help you boys?

MAN #1, shaved head, dragon tattoo on neck, steps forward.

MAN #1
Yessir. Bit lost is all.

The Base Operator's voice crackles from the radio.

BASE OPERATOR
Spitzer, confirm State Police
advisory. Over.

EXT. CAMPSITE - NIGHT

A YOUNG MAN and WOMAN snuggle under a blanket near a campfire.
A GUNSHOT echoes through the forest.

YOUNG MAN
Whoa, what was that?

EXT. FOREST TRAIL - NIGHT

The searchlight flashes, reflecting off a
gold medallion affixed to a ranger's hat lying on the trail.

jboffer
08-19-2009, 09:58 PM
I shall join the fun.



INT. TENT - NIGHT

A SICK MAN, covered in greasy boils and puss, restlessly
tries to sleep on the dirt floor. He COUGHS.

Suddenly, a pillow is forced onto his head. The sick man
SCREAMS, trying to breath. KEVIN (30s), also covered in
boils, holds the pillow down. The man goes silent. Dead.



EXT. TENT - NIGHT

Kevin walks outside into the NEAR-APOCALYPTIC WORLD.
Intense fire consumes the background. Kevin navigates
gigantic piles of dead human bodies, all bearing the same
disease.

He TRIPS over a dead guy's leg and kicks it in revenge.

He makes his way to a fire consuming a stack of bodies.
SARAH (30s, same disease) roasts a piece of meat near it.

KEVIN
(seductive)
Well I'm officially the last guy
on Earth.

SARAH
God damn it. Sure he's dead?

KEVIN
Makes you hot, doesn't it.

Kevin starts COUGHING green sh!t up.

SARAH
It was a joke. In high school. I
never thought it could happen.

KEVIN
The universe has spoken. F*ck my
brains out.

SARAH
It's too gross. I can't.

KEVIN
Forget about the boils.

SARAH
That's not what I meant.

Sarah pulls up a pistol and SHOOTS herself in the head.
Kevin stares. Denied again. He SIGHS and almost walks away.
He eyes Sarah's corpse. He smiles creepily and crawls up
next to her.

Anagram
08-19-2009, 11:39 PM
Jboffer that is the sickest thing I've read in a while, so why the hell am I laughing? nice page

PaleWriter
08-20-2009, 06:28 AM
Homerun Jboffer. Homerun.

Jenny
08-20-2009, 07:40 AM
I almost stopped reading because I was eating breakfast and getting grossed out. Glad I didn't!

Wordsmithteer
08-20-2009, 12:25 PM
I'll join the fun with RETRIBUTION.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY

Christmas aftermath. Ripped pieces of wrapping paper, bows, gifts.

MOM and DAD snuggle on the couch as they watch SON, 6, chase a motorized car, a remote in his hand.

Son steps on WRAP, a piece of shiny red wrapping paper.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY - EARLIER

Mom admires the pattern of the shiny red wrapping paper.

WRAP (V.O.)
(deep, commanding voice)
First they admire me.

Mom cuts the paper with sharp, shiny scissors.

WRAP (V.O.)
Then, they torture me.

Mom ties the bow on a picture-perfect wrapped gift.

WRAP (V.O.)
Then they imprison me. The indignity.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY - LATER

Christmas morning. Son rips paper from a gift.

WRAP (V.O.)
They rip out my heart. My heart.

Son only has eyes for the new car.

WRAP (V.O.)
I will have my retribution.

Wrap, now a crumpled ball of paper, creeps forward, towards Son.

Wrap torpedoes into the air.

Son CRIES.

WRAP (V.O.)
It's all good cheer until someone loses an eye.

Son, gauze over one eye. Mom comforts him.

WRAP (V.O.)
(big, booming)
Ha, ha. Ha, ha.

Dad picks up Wrap, tosses him into a garbage bag. Darkness.

WRAP (V.O.)
Oh, oh.
FADE OUT.

Jage
08-20-2009, 05:14 PM
Here's mine...

INT. CROWDED BAR -- NIGHT

An Asian beauty, SONG LING (30s), holds a sign that reads, "Guess my full name and win a kiss. Initials 'S.L.' Five bucks a guess."

A drunk American, LANCE (40s), strides up and hands her a fin.

LANCE
(horny)
Sexy Legs?

SONG LING
(bored; familiar)
Sorry, Lance.

LANCE
(indicating the menu)
Some Lunch?

SONG LING
(disgusted)
Spoiled Leftovers.

LANCE
(hopefully)
Sushi Lover?

SONG LING
(looking away)
Still Lame.

LANCE
(desperate)
Sometime Later?

SONG LING
(annoyed)
Sour Luck.

LANCE
(pissed)
Suck Lemons.

SONG LING
(haughtily)
So Long.

LANCE
(hurt)
...Silly Lady.

SONG LING
(triumphant)
Sore Loser.

Lance skulls off. Song Ling turns expectantly to her next victim.

Mark Somers
08-20-2009, 07:20 PM
Wildgrace Jan 5, 2007



http://messageboard.donedealpro.com/boards/showthread.php?t=25798


I'll join the fun with RETRIBUTION.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY

Christmas aftermath. Ripped pieces of wrapping paper, bows, gifts.

MOM and DAD snuggle on the couch as they watch SON, 6, chase a motorized car, a remote in his hand.

Son steps on WRAP, a piece of shiny red wrapping paper.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY - EARLIER

Mom admires the pattern of the shiny red wrapping paper.

WRAP (V.O.)
(deep, commanding voice)
First they admire me.

Mom cuts the paper with sharp, shiny scissors.

WRAP (V.O.)
Then, they torture me.

Mom ties the bow on a picture-perfect wrapped gift.

WRAP (V.O.)
Then they imprison me. The indignity.

INT. LIVINGROOM - DAY - LATER

Christmas morning. Son rips paper from a gift.

WRAP (V.O.)
They rip out my heart. My heart.

Son only has eyes for the new car.

WRAP (V.O.)
I will have my retribution.

Wrap, now a crumpled ball of paper, creeps forward, towards Son.

Wrap torpedoes into the air.

Son CRIES.

WRAP (V.O.)
It's all good cheer until someone loses an eye.

Son, gauze over one eye. Mom comforts him.

WRAP (V.O.)
(big, booming)
Ha, ha. Ha, ha.

Dad picks up Wrap, tosses him into a garbage bag. Darkness.

WRAP (V.O.)
Oh, oh.
FADE OUT.

jboffer
08-20-2009, 08:02 PM
Uh... so Wordsmithteer decided to steal a one page exercise? wtf?

jboffer
08-20-2009, 08:03 PM
Jboffer that is the sickest thing I've read in a while, so why the hell am I laughing? nice page

Because we are a sick race, whether we admit it or not :)

Wordsmithteer
08-21-2009, 06:55 AM
Actually Wildgrace and Wordsmithteer are one and the same person. My writing projects webpage is under Wordsmithteer.com (http://www.wordsmithteer.com/) so I decided for consistency to change my username. Hope that clears everything up.

jboffer
08-21-2009, 09:02 AM
That's what I was hoping for. Nice page.

sarajb
08-22-2009, 09:51 AM
EXT. FILMS - DAY

Two men weigh their options, ANTHONY, 30's, on the lighter
side of brooding, and RALPH, early teens, happy-go-lucky.

ANTHONY
Something obscure.

RALPH
Inglourious Basterds!

Anthony gives him a look.

RALPH
Turds. District 9?

ANTHONY
I just ate.

RALPH
My poop.

ANTHONY
(through tightened jaw)
Follow me.

INT. ASTRO BOY TRAILER - DAY

It's dark.

ANTHONY
Hello?

His voices echoes.

RALPH
You pick like my nose.

ANTHONY
Have at it, then. I'm at your
mercy.

INT. "READERS"-DO YOU LIKE"..AS IT ENTERS LATE INTO EVERY
SCENE...MAKES AN EARLY EXIT.. - DAY

An immediate sensory attack - colors, words, uncomfortable
chaos. Anthony hyperventilates.

ANTHONY
(two octaves higher)
Get me the fvck out of here, you
idiot.

EXT. ONE ON ONE - DAY

A frat house for the elderly. SARAJB naps on a creaky porch
swing.

RALPH
You called yourself an idiot.

Anthony disappears behind the door without him.

.

Goatfish
08-22-2009, 11:05 PM
INT. CAR - DAY

DAD sits in the driver's side of a messy beater. He types on
a laptop plugged into the cigarette lighter. SON (9) eats fries
from a greasy bag. The backseat is filled with luggage.

SON
How's it coming?

Dad keeps typing. He responds without looking.

DAD
Alright. In act 2. A scene where
the protagonist cleans his room.

Dad types away. The son keeps eating fries.

SON
Why do we live in a car?

Dad keeps typing.

DAD
Lot's of people live in cars. It
won't be like this forever.

The son eats fries.

SON
Mom said you lost your job because
you looked at porn at work.

Dad looks at him blankly.

DAD
She said that?
(beat)
It was a screenplay. I was reading
a screenplay at work.

He goes back to typing.

SON
What screenplay?

Dad keeps typing.

DAD
It's called, "Balls Out."

The son eats fries.

SON
Dad, that sounds like porn.

spyder23
08-24-2009, 09:00 AM
squirm

INT. WINDOWLESS ROOM – TIME UNKNOWN

CURRIE, 19, wipes a strand of straggly hair from her face. A bead of sweat drops onto her already fogged glasses.

CURRIE
Last chance…

She’s hovered over JAMES, 18, a pale, sweaty, disheveled mess. He lies on some type of bench. Before he has time to speak-

Currie’s ARM explodes downward with great force. WHAM!

James’ scream puts the word blood in bloodcurdling as we see Currie’s glasses dotted with his red liquid.

James’ tongue curls up into the back of his throat. He chokes. The pain is too intense.

Currie grabs another SPIKE. A long one.

Wipes her glasses clean. The blood streaks.

CURRIE
Who is she?

James GURGLES. He’s in SHOCK.

A beat. WHAM! More blood SPATS onto Currie, this time smearing her sweater.

James THRUSTS forward. Spit flies from his mouth. A blood vessel in his eye BURSTS.

Currie backs away from her…art. Sets the HAMMER down.

James begins to shake violently.

Blood TRICKLES down a wooden bench onto the hard cement floor.

Currie sifts theough a toolbox. Grabs a rusty NAIL. Eyes James. Watches his eyes roll back in his head.

REVEAL she has driven SPIKES into each of his TESTICLES. She places the nail in the hole of his penis.

CURRIE
Oh James. How I love you...

WHAM!

Bodhi
08-30-2009, 03:52 PM
It came out slightly longer than a page, but I couldn't cut anything without sacrificing its artistic integrity.

:rolleyes:





INT. LIBRARY - DAY

MR. DEKATER, an older tutor, goes over an English paper with
an effeminate TEENAGE BOY.

MR. DEKATER
How many times do I have to tell
you? Commas, commas, commas! This
sentence alone -- you need a comma
here and here!

TEENAGE BOY
But Mr. Dekater, I did put commas
there, you just can't see them.

MR. DEKATER
What are you talking about?

TEENAGE BOY
The commas, sometimes they blend
into the paper when they're scared.
(Mr. Dekater's confused)
Because they're...

The teenager suddenly looks exactly like BOY GEORGE of the
80's band Culture Club.

TEENAGE BOY GEORGE
(singing)
...comma comma comma comma comma
chameleons! They come and go -- they
come and gooooooooooo!

The library suddenly looks like the set of an incredibly
tacky 80's music video. Mr. Dekater looks around, shakes his
head in horror, then looks DIRECTLY AT CAMERA and SCREAMS.

INT. DESERT TENT - DAY

Mr. Dekater awakens to find himself strapped to a chair --
he's being brutally TORTURED by two masked torturers.

MR. DEKATER
It was just a dream. Thank God.
(to torturers)
It was awful! The music, the
obvious pun. Jesus. That's what I
get for taking so many drugs during
the 80s.

One torturer removes his mask. It's Teenage Boy George.

TEENAGE BOY GEORGE
(singing)
...comma comma comma comma comma
chameleons! They come and go -- they
come and gooooooooooo!

The tent suddenly looks like the set of a mind bogglingly
tacky 80's music video. Troubadours, midgets, flamingos, etc.

MR. DEKATER
No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!