Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

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  • Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

    So, here we go! We have 7 entries, which is more than I expected, well done all for writing to theme and deadline.

    Outside the Wall
    Automate
    MITCHELL INC
    Chilled to the Bone
    Palatine
    Untitled
    The Survivor

    I laundered them through a program that strips text out of the PDFs and keep the formatting, and then patted things into shape a little because this ain't an exact science. Assume any problems are down to me, not the author. If you see any errors then let me know and I'll correct ASAP.

    Read the entries and pick your 1st, 2nd and 3rd choices. PM or email these to me, preferably in the format,

    1st - title
    2nd - title
    3rd - title

    Please don't vote for your own entry!

    Deadline for voting is midnight this coming Sunday 14.

    Once the results are posted, feel free to post any comments you made while you were reading, what worked or what didn't work for you, etc. Yay for feedback! All input is welcome, even if you didn't submit an entry.

    Have fun, don't take it too seriously!

    If you don't like the code boxes that preserve formatting, select Thread Tools and Show Printable Version.

    Added: for posterity, the results thread is here.
    Last edited by dpaterso; 06-15-2015, 11:26 AM.

  • #2
    Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

    Code:
    [b]Outside the Wall[/b]
    
    FADE IN:                        (FAR INTO THE FUTURE)
    
    EXT. CITY STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
    
    A bus silently floats past cookie-cutter houses with postage-
    stamp yards, small porches. Without street numbers you
    couldn't tell them apart. The bus stops to allow ALFRED to
    disembark.
    
    Mid-thirties, briefcase, blue suit with red tie. Alfred
    trots up the short sidewalk. The front door slides open.
    
    
    INT. ALFRED'S HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON
    
    Alfred plops his briefcase in a chair. Child JOHNNY runs to
    him, grabs his leg.
    
                          JOHNNY
               Daddy. Daddy, pick me up.
    
    Alfred swoops Johnny into his arms, hugs him.
    
                         ALFRED
               How's my little man?
    
    MELISSA, an attractive brunette, pokes her head out of the
    kitchen.
    
                         MELISSA
               I was starting to wonder. Bus late
               again?
    
                         ALFRED
               Saw a squirrel--
    
                         MELISSA
               --You're kidding me.
    
                        ALFRED
               Really. Sitting there flicking his
               tail. We stopped to watch.
    
                          MELISSA
               Neat.
    
                         JOHNNY
               I talked to GRANDMA today.
    
                         MELISSA
               What flavoring you want tonight?
    
                        ALFRED
              Let's try Italian.
    
                        MELISSA
              Five minutes.
    
    Alfred steps to the couch, sits with Johnny in his lap.
    
                        ALFRED
              So, what did Grandma have to say?
    
                        JOHNNY
              I know something you don't know.
    
    Melissa steps out of the kitchen to listen.
    
                        ALFRED
              Are you going to tell me or not?
    
                        JOHNNY
              When you call mama "honey" that is
              something people used to eat.
    
    Melissa gives Alfred a look.
    
                        MELISSA
              You said it wasn't going to happen
              again.
    
                        JOHNNY
              Are you going to keep mama in a
              jar?
    
                        ALFRED
              Listen, son. People don't eat
              honey anymore. That's bee food.
              We were using them as slave labor.
    
                        JOHNNY
              What's a slave?
    
    
    INT. ALFRED'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM
    
    Alfred and Johnny sit at the table as Melissa serves green
    squares of processed food.
    
                        ALFRED
              Smells good.
    
                        MELISSA
              I tried a variation this time.
              Different button sequence.
    
                        ALFRED
              Mama fixed something special for
              you, Johnny. And how was mama's
              day?
    
    Melissa frowns.
    
                        MELISSA
              That stupid woman called me a
              breeder again. One day I'm going
              to--
    
                        ALFRED
              --Envy, that's all. Probably wants
              one but can't get certified.
    
    Melissa rests her fork on her plate.
    
                        MELISSA
              And I got a call from the school.
    
                        ALFRED
              Something I should be concerned
              about?
    
                        MELISSA
              On last week's test, our little
              Johnny got every answer right.
    
    Alfred sighs.
    
                        ALFRED
              Is that right, Johnny?
    
                          JOHNNY
              Yep. Yep yep yep.
    
                        ALFRED
              We've talked about this. When you
              get them all right you make the
              other students feel bad.
    
                        JOHNNY
              That's dumb.
    
                        ALFRED
              Listen. You miss two out of ten,
              you understand?
    
                          JOHNNY
              Yes, sir.
    
    Johnny finishes his food square, drops his fork.
    
                         JOHNNY (CONT'D)
              Daddy?
    
                        ALFRED
              What is it, Johnny?
    
                        JOHNNY
              Can we go walking tonight?
    
                        ALFRED
              No, we can't go walking.
    
                         JOHNNY
              Why not?
    
                        ALFRED
              Because I said so. What we'll do
              is sit on the porch and rock.
    
                        JOHNNY
              I'm tired of rocking.
    
                        ALFRED
              And the PROCTOR will see us when he
              makes the rounds.
    
    
    EXT. ALFRED'S HOUSE - FRONT PORCH - EVENING
    
    Alfred and Johnny sit in rocking chairs. Neighbors up and
    down the street are already rocking.
    
                        ALFRED
              Okay. We're ready to start.
              Remember, not too fast. We're not
              racing anybody.
    
    Alfred turns toward the house interior.
    
                        ALFRED (CONT'D)
              Honey, you need to get out here.
    
    Melissa steps onto the porch, takes a rocker.
    
                       MELISSA
              Sorry. I was cleaning up the
              kitchen. Okay, I'm ready.
    
    Melissa begins to rook, synchronizing with her husband and
    son.
    
                        MELISSA (CONT'D)
              I think we're good now.
    
                        ALFRED
              Now we can relax.
    
    Johnny sticks his legs straight out. Alfred notices.
    
                        ALFRED (CONT'D)
              Son, put your legs down. Here he
              comes.
    
    All eyes are fixed on the Proctor, an obese man perched on a
    Segway. He inches down the street, observing the rockers,
    punching a tablet with fat fingers. His gaze locks on Alfred
    and Melissa.
    
                        MELISSA
              Why is he staring at us?
    
                        ALFRED
              Maybe it's our turn.
    
    The Proctor slowly makes his way toward Alfred and Melissa,
    rolls up the sidewalk, stops at the edge of the porch.
    
                        THE PROCTOR
              Evening, folks. Three residents,
              three on the porch. Got it right?
    
                          ALFRED
              Yes, sir. That's right.
    
                        JOHNNY
              Mister, why can't people go
              walking?
    
                        MELISSA
              Hush, Johnny.
    
    The Proctor smiles, waves his hand.
    
                        THE PROCTOR
              Don't mind it. You see, sonny, way
              back people walked a lot. But some
              jokers walked too fast, and some
              even started running. Made it hard
              for the normal folks.
    
                        JOHNNY
              So what happened?
    
                        THE PROCTOR
              Most did better once we had a talk,
              but we sent some to education
              centers. The ones that we couldn't
              convince, well, they went to the
              other side of the wall.
    
                        JOHNNY
              Where's that?
    
                        THE PROCTOR
              It's where we send the people who
              try to be smarter, stronger or
              better than everybody else. Can't
              put up with that.
    
                           JOHNNY
              Oh. Do--
    
                        ALFRED
              --I heard they've been causing some
              trouble.
    
                        THE PROCTOR
              Don't worry about them. We're two
              steps ahead. Better get going.
    
    The Proctor salutes Johnny, heads down the street.
    
                        MELISSA
              We can go inside now.
    
                         ALFRED
              Give it a minute. I've seen him
              backtrack.
    
    
    INT. ALFRED'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    Alfred and Melissa lie in bed asleep. We SEE light flash
    through their window and HEAR rumbles in the distance.
    Johnny shuffles through the door dragging a stuffed rabbit.
    
    He goes to the bed and nudges Alfred.
    
                        JOHNNY
              Daddy, I'm scared.
    
    Alfred raises a groggy head and puts his arm around Johnny.
    
                        ALFRED
              Just a storm, Johnny.
    
    Another BOOM. Alfred sits up.
    
                        ALFRED (CONT'D)
              That's not a storm.
                                                                
    Melissa rolls over.
    
                        MELISSA
              What's going on?
    
    Alfred jumps up, grabs a robe, looks out the window.
    
                        ALFRED
              Don't know. I'm going outside.
    
    
    EXT. ALFRED'S HOUSE - PORCH - NIGHT
    
    Alfred steps onto the porch with Melissa and Johnny clinging
    to him. Flashes of light paint the horizon, booms rattle the
    windows. Alfred yells to NEIGHBOR at the house next door.
    
                        ALFRED
              What's going on?
    
    Neighbor shakes his head, waves his hands in frustration.
    
                        NEIGHBOR
              How the hell should I know?
    
                        JOHNNY
              He said a bad word.
    
    Alfred pulls Johnny and Melissa close. Alfred peers down the
    road. He sees something.
    
                        ALFRED
              Somebody's coming.
    
                        NEIGHBOR
              That guy's running. Call the
              Proctor.
    
    RUNNER appears in sight.
    
                        RUNNER
              They're coming. Run.
    
                        NEIGHBOR
              Who's coming?
    
                        RUNNER
              From outside the wall. Run.
    
    Runner passes, disappears from view.
    
                        JOHNNY
              What's going to happen?
    
                        MELISSA
              We've got to do something.
    
                        ALFRED
              They didn't teach us what to do for
              this.
    
    Alfred shakes his head. Melissa gets in his face.
    
                        MELISSA
              We've got to do something. Maybe
              we should run.
    
    Alfred grabs Melissa's arms.
    
                        ALFRED
              Then we're just as bad as them.
              Don't you understand?
    
                        MELISSA
              Please tell us what to do.
    
                        ALFRED
              Okay. Johnny, sit in the rocker.
              We're all going to sit in the
              rockers.
    
    All take a rocker, fear flooding their faces.
    
                        ALFRED (CONT'D)
              Good. Now rock. Let's rock
              together.
    
                        JOHNNY
              Daddy, what's that noise?
    
    We HEAR the sound of heavy vehicles approaching.
    
                         ALFRED
              Faster.   Rock faster.
    
                                                          FADE OUT

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

      Code:
      [b]Automate[/b]
      
      OVER BLACK
      
                              PAUL (V.O.)
                   Three point four.
                       (beat)
                   Three point two.
      
      FADE IN:
      
      On a man's face. Nerdy, anxious. He stares intently.
      
                             PAUL
                   Three point oh. I can't go any
                   lower.
      
      NEW ANGLE--He stands in front of a huge holographic chatbox
      projected in midair. His words appear on the display a moment
      after he speaks them: "PAUL: 3.0. I can't go any lower."
      
      Another line appears at the bottom of the hologram, bumping
      up the conversation a notch: "MARCY: 2.8."
      
      PULL BACK to reveal our hero, PAUL, standing in a cramped--
      
      
      INT. ROOM
      
      Nothing here except him and a hologram. Smooth walls and few
      furnishings--a room devoid of character.
      
                             PAUL
                   Two point nine.
      
      The answer appears on the hologram: "MARCY: 2.85."
      
      Paul rolls his eyes in exasperation.
      
                             PAUL (CONT'D)
                   Fine. Deal.
      
      ON HOLOGRAM: A tiny animated gif shows a handshake. Success.
      
                              PAUL (CONT'D)
                   All right. Hey, Marcy, I was
                   thinking--
      
      ON HOLOGRAM: "PAUL: Hey, Marcy, I was thinking-- ***MARCY HAS
      DISCONNECTED***"
      
                             PAUL (CONT'D)
                   Dammit.
      
      A faint intermittent BUZZING noise from the next room. BZZZZ
      ... BZZZZZ ... BZZZZ ...
      
      
      INT. LIVING ROOM -- MOMENTS LATER
      
      The BUZZING continues as Paul walks across his sparsely
      furnished living room. A few extremely large but thin
      monitors rest here and there.
      
                          PAUL
                Sun.
      
      Paul utters the word as a command. Instantly, the ceiling
      dissolves into a lovely sunny sky. Virtual birds and clouds
      pass by a gentle virtual skyscape.
      
      Paul approaches the door: a large flat panel nearly flush
      with the surrounding wall. Beside it, a red light flashes in
      unison with the faint intermittent buzz.
      
                          PAUL (CONT'D)
                Open.
      
      The door panel begins retracting into the wall, STAR TREK-
      style. Only it moves in jerks and stops, finally stopping
      altogether in the halfway-open position. The door vibrates
      with the strain. As if it hasn't been opened in a while.
      
      Paul SIGHS. He pushes the door into the wall with his bare
      hand. Revealing a large, tall rectangular BOX sitting on the
      other side.
      
      His face breaks into a smile.
      
      MOMENTS LATER
      
      Paul stands next to the box, propped up in the middle of the
      room. It's almost as tall as he is.
      
      He fumbles with the side of the box. Finds a handle of sorts
      around the side. He pulls--and the box opens like a closet.
      
      Revealing a WOMAN inside. Large breasts, long blonde hair,
      red bee-stung lips, big doe-like eyes. Exaggeratedly feminine
      characteristics from head to toe. Tank top and leather
      miniskirt.
      
      It's almost as convincing as the real thing.
      
                          PAUL (CONT'D)
                    (amazed)
                Oh, yes.
      
      He reaches for her breasts, adolescent curiosity taking over.
      
                             VANESSA
                Hi, there.
      
      Paul STARTS with surprise at the voice.
      
                          VANESSA (CONT'D)
                    (excessively sultry voice)
                I'm Vanessa, your new sex android.
                I have been designed to fulfill all
                your deepest fantasies, thanks to
                the wonders of artificial
                intelligence. Satisfaction
                guaranteed or your bitcoins back.
      
      Paul's face beams with anticipation. She looks, sounds, and
      moves with near-total mimetic exactitude.
      
                          PAUL
                Oh, yeahhhhh.
      
                                                        CUT TO:
      
      An old-fashioned fireplace holding a jittery, crackling
      bundle of flames.
      
      PULL BACK a bit to reveal it's a video display on a sliding
      opaque door.
      
      The door slides into the wall. Revealing Paul's naked head
      and torso. He's ready to rumble. He stands at the doorway of--
      
      
      INT. PAUL'S BEDROOM -- CONTINUOUS
      
      As sparsely furnished as the rest of the place. A mattress
      somehow levitates in the middle of the room. Vanessa lies
      across it, in come-hither mode, dressed in purple-and-black
      lingerie.
      
                          VANESSA
                I want it now, big boy. I want your
                medium-sized love rod that has
                grown mighty from years of
                forbearance.
      
                          PAUL
                I'll see what I can do.
      
      Paul jumps into bed--
      
                                                      TIME CUT:
      
      A tangle of arms and legs. Vanessa MOANS orgasmically in
      exaggerated fashion. Paul breathes and pants laboriously.
      
                            VANESSA
                  Don't stop. Don't stopppp.
      
                                                        TIME CUT:
      
      Paul and Vanessa lie side by side in post-coital reflection.
      He stares at the ceiling as Vanessa prattles on.
      
                            VANESSA (CONT'D)
                  Men with large organs are so
                  overrated. But you're perfect for
                  me...
      
      Paul hardly seems to listen. He just looks at the ceiling, an
      oddly glum look on his face.
      
                                                        FADE TO:
      
      
      INT. ROOM
      
      Paul stands before the chatbox hologram. His words appear
      automatically as he says them aloud.
      
                            PAUL
                  Six point five. That's it.
      
      ON HOLOGRAM: "MARCY: Deal!"
      
      Paul visibly relaxes. Then a wave of anxiety passes over his
      face. Something on his mind.
      
                            PAUL (CONT'D)
                  You know, Marcy ... we've been
                  doing this for a few weeks now.
                  That's a long time to talk to
                  anyone.
      
      Paul's words spread across the hologram as he talks "...time
      to talk to anyone."
      
                            PAUL (CONT'D)
                  You're a good businessperson and a
                  tough negotiator. But I thought you
                  might be more than that. Not that
                  it's bad to be just a
                  businessperson, I mean.
      
      Paul glances nervously at his halting monologue displayed
      before him. He looks away as he struggles for words.
      
                          PAUL (CONT'D)
                It's just ... I've been looking at
                your avatar for weeks now. And, you
                know, there's this really nice chat
                room I know about ...
      
      Paul doesn't see the message that appears on the chatbox:
      "***MARCY HAS DISCONNECTED***"
      
                          PAUL (CONT'D)
                I thought maybe we could just talk
                a little. That's it. Just talk. Not
                do anything else. At least not
                right away. And see what happens
                from there ...
      
      Paul glances up at the chatbox. Sees that Marcy has left.
      
      He SIGHS heavily as his face darkens.
      
      ON HOLOGRAM: "PAUL: (SIGHS HEAVILY)"
      
      
      INT. PAUL'S BEDROOM
      
      The door slides open. Revealing Paul--now wearing some kind
      of S&M headqear with elaborate zig-zag straps and metal
      studs. It frames a stern face.
      
                          PAUL
                Have you been a bad girl?
      
      Vanessa lies across the bed. Her hands and feet separately
      bound in ropes.
      
                          VANESSA
                All girls are bad. So I am too.
                Q.E.D.
      
      Paul holds up a whip.
      
                          PAUL
                Let's make you better.
      
                                                      TIME CUT:
      
      Paul beats the hell out of the bound Vanessa. The whip
      strikes artificial flesh. Again and again and again.
      Vanessa's voice leaps two octaves with each blow.
      
                          VANESSA
                Yes! Your mighty whip is beating
                the badness OUT of me!
      
      Paul's windmilling arm snaps the whip across Vanessa's body.
      An uncontrolled rage pouring out of him.
      
      Paul suddenly stops. Delivers a final, half-hearted blow. His
      face falls into a saggy mask of self-contempt.
      
      
      INT. LIVING ROOM -- MOMENTS LATER
      
      Paul wearily shuffles out of the bedroom. Collapses into a
      floating chair. He rips off his headgear, throws it against a
      wall.
      
      He stares with fatigued indifference at a movie playing on
      the opposite wall. Hardly hears the soft FOOTSTEPS
      approaching.
      
                          VANESSA (O.S.)
                What's wrong?
      
      Paul notices Vanessa suddenly standing beside him. Artificial
      compassion radiating from those not-quite-human eyes.
      
                          PAUL
                It was way different in my
                daydreams. And night-dreams. But
                it's not you. You did what I
                wanted.
      
                          VANESSA
                Not true, Paul.
      
      That gets Paul's attention.
      
                          VANESSA (CONT'D)
                I did what you told me to do. Not
                what you wanted. Most people don't
                know what they want. Or whether
                it's worth wanting.
      
                          PAUL
                What are you, the Gautama Buddha
                sex doll?
      
      Vanessa GIGGLES.
      
                          VANESSA
                You're funny.
      
      She affectionately pokes him in the cheek with her finger.
      
      Vanessa notices the movie playing on the wall.
      
                          VANESSA (CONT'D)
                O-M-G. Taxi Driver.
      
      Paul's face lights up in amazement.
      
                          PAUL
                How'd you know that?
      
                          VANESSA
                "You talkin' to me?"
      
      Paul completes the quote:
      
                          PAUL
                "Well, I'm the only one here."
      
      Their eyes lock.
      
                                                      TIME CUT:
      
      Paul and Vanessa sit in the seat as the movie plays before
      them. She feeds him a popped kernel of popcorn. Paul laughs.
      
                                                      TIME CUT:
      
      The movie now over, Paul and Vanessa cuddle in the seat, arms
      wrapped around each other, whispering sweet whatevers.
      
                                                       FADE TO:
      
      
      INT. PAUL'S BEDROOM
      
      Back at the bedroom door. It retracts into the wall,
      revealing PAUL. His face now beaming happily.
      
                          PAUL
                Honey, I got you something.
      
      Paul holds up a box with both hands.
      
      Vanessa sits up in bed. She wears a tasteful nightgown.
      
                          VANESSA
                I love presents.
      
      Paul approaches the bed. Hands her the box.
      
      Vanessa carefully opens the box with her fingers. Her
      artificial eyes stare with delight.
      
                          VANESSA (CONT'D)
                    (impressed)
                Ohhhhhhh...
      
      Paul climbs in bed beside Vanessa as she ohhhs over the
      contents of the box, unseen by us.
      
                          PAUL
                It's really high quality, too.
      
                          VANESSA
                I love you, Paul.
      
                          PAUL
                    (confused)
                I know. You told me last week.
      
      Vanessa reaches inside the box. Pulls out a cute little
      ANDROID BABY in a singlet.
      
                          ANDROID BABY
                Mom-mee! Dad-dee!
      
                          VANESSA
                I think I can get used to hearing
                that.
      
                          PAUL
                If you can't, we'll turn off the
                voice card.
      
      
                                                    CUT TO BLACK
      
                                    END
      Last edited by dpaterso; 06-08-2015, 08:31 PM.

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

        Code:
        [b]MITCHELL INC[/b]
        
        INT. BARRACKS - DAY
        
        Austere barracks, prison or military.
        
        Four people huddle. Three guys and a woman, all wear
        military clothing. But it's not uniform.
        
        The huddle around a device, home made, crude.
        
                            DERMOT
                  Four hundred and eighty meters.
                  It's as close as he ever gets.
        
        DERMOT is a hulking man, a soldier stereotype. Muscles,
        short hair, dogtags.
        
        
        EXT. SPORTS FIELD - CONTINUOUS
        
        A double line of crude barracks, a dusty field. Two teams
        play a bastardized game of football in the dust, skins vs
        shirts. Super fast, hyper rough. Dust pools like fog.
        
        Skins punt the ball, we track...
        
        Slomo, lose focus, pull focus on the background.
        
        
        EXT. GUARD TOWER - CONTINUOUS
        
        Guard tower, extruded metal, microwave antenna, two soldiers
        in battle armour, heavy weapons ALL FACING INWARDS
        
        The ball comes back into focus, full speed again.
        
        
        EXT. SPORTS FIELD - CONTINUOUS
        
        The balls caught by a monster of a man, seven feet tall and a
        mass of gleaming muscle. He hurls the ball across the field
        like a rifle bullet...
        
        ... to a ferret-like individual. Who leaps three meters into
        the air to accept the pass...
        
        ...and fires it straight down to a harsh looking woman. A
        mass of lean muscle and scars, and a US marines tattoo.
        
        SHE RUNS. Make ten meters before another woman tackles her,
        hard.
        
        Shirts retrieves the ball, kicks, low, into a razor wire
        fence. We track...
        
        Slomo, lose focus, pull focus on the background.
        
        
        EXT. C/U ON FENCE - CONTINUOUS
        
        Rusty razor wire sparks as the ball strikes. The strands are
        suspended by insulators. Faded signs proclaim them as 11
        kilovolts. The ball smoulders and sizzles.
        
        The smoke rolls past a larger sign on the outside the wire.
        FoNaP Detainment centre 54 (Military hybrids)
        
        
        INT. BARRACKS - CONTINUOUS
        
                              DERMOT
                    This is it. Give the word. Last
                    chance.
        
        One of the other opens a locker and pulls out a new ball.
        
        He tosses it through an open window, straight into play.
        
        
        EXT. SPORTS FIELD - CONTINUOUS
        
        A man catches it in a huge mechanical hand. Crude stainless.
        
        A good hand traces the vivid red stitching. His gaze turns
        to the window. He smiles.
        
                              MECH HAND
                    DAVE, Go long Dave, go LONNNGGGGG!
        
        Dave is a small man, one of the skins. But lithe and lean.
        He starts running, faster and faster. SHIRTS fall back.
        
        Mech hand lobs the ball, Dave takes the ball smoothly and
        runs straight at the densest concentration of SHIRTS.
        
        
        INT. GUARD TOWER - SIMULTAINIOUS
        
                              GUARD ONE
                    They'll slaughter him.
        
                               GUARD TWO
                    Good.   One less.
        
        His attention slips.
        
        
        EXT. SPORTS FIELD - CONTINUOUS
        
        About three meters from three of the biggest guys on the
        field he jumps. They catch him, throw him...
        
        ...Is lifted... is flung... into the air
        
        Slomo, lose focus, pull focus on the background.
        
        North of the internment camp is a huge old industrial area.
        Most looks abandoned, but there are newer buildings of sleek
        futuristic deign.
        
        HARD PIVOT
        
        South west is a residential area.
        
        
        EXT. OUTSIDE THE WIRE - CONTINUOUS
        
        Dave lands like a cat, smooth athletic grace. Running
        instantly.
        
        
        INT. GUARD TOWER - CONTINUOUS
        
                                  GUARD ONE
                     BREAK OUT!
        
        He slams a fist onto a big red button. SIRENS shriek.
        
                                GUARD TWO
                     Shoot! Shoot to kill!
        
        Guard one tries, blasting away a whole magazine but the angle
        is against him.
        
        
        EXT. ROAD - CONTINUOUS
        
        Dave runs, zigzagging like a gazelle. Bullets fragment
        around him. And stop.
        
        He straightens, speed over evasion now. He is built for
        speed, literally, genetically modified. His legs uncoil.
        
        
        INT. GUARD TOWER - CONTINUOUS
        
                                  GUARD TWO
                     The rest! Blast them!
        
        Autoguns pop up... tracking - nothing!
        
        All of the sports people internees are laying facedown in the
        dust, hands over their heads. Without targets the autoguns
        cycle harmlessly.
        
                             RADIO VOX
                   Station 3, update.
        
                              GUARD ONE
                   Runner! Solo male. Out of range.
        
                             RADIO VOX
                   The others?
        
                                GUARD ONE
                   Face down!
        
                             RADIO VOX
                   Launch your drone. Leave all
                   weapons on self determination. If
                   they move obliterate them!
        
                                GUARD ONE
                   What mode?
        
                             RADIO VOX
                   Chip destruction. I'll alert the
                   local authorities.
        
        Atop the tower plastic covers spin away revealing a drone.
        Compressed air blows it into the air, it orientates and is
        away.
        
        
        EXT. SPORTS FIELD - CONTINUOUS
        
        One prone man sees the drone leave. He squeezes a small
        electronic device, the drops it.
        
        
        EXT. ROAD - CONTINUOUS
        
        Dave is still sprinting. PPEEEEEEPPPPPPP An alarm in his
        ear sounds.
        
        He sledges to a stop and starts tearing at the ball with his
        teeth. The bindings come away revealing a metal mesh. He
        rips it aside and pulls out a pistol. Checks the handle, a
        red strip two shots remaining.
        
        He waits. Not long. His breathing stabilizes. The drone
        rushes around the corner and down the road. Dave waits,
        aiming.
        
        ZAP! The gun sparks flame. Miss!
        
        The drone fires. Dave leaps aside with inhuman speed.
        Fleshettes rake the brush. He aims but leaps aside again.
        The drone keeps firing, burst after burst. Fleshettes rake
        Dave. Nothing fatal but he's losing blood.
        
        Several times he draws bead. But doesn't take it. Finally
        he lands, ducks and rolls aside. Comes to his feet aiming
        and fires.
        
        The drone is winged. A ducted fan shredded. Falls to the
        road. Still it fights. Spinning on the pavement it tries to
        aim. Tiny arrow-like fleshettes splatter up the road.
        
        Pursued by the barrage Dave rolls into the ditch. He fast
        crawls away from the stricken machine.
        
        Emerges from the ditch. Checks a hand drawn map. The drone
        fires pointlessly.
        
        Dave throws the spent pistol aside and continues running.
        
                            VOICE OVER
                  The 2030s saw the first Global war.
                  Brushfire wars over resources
                  escalated, factions and alliances
                  grew and fell for ten terrible
                  years.
        
        Dave nears the town, still running.
        
                            VOICE OVER (CONT'D)
                  Less than two billion survived.
        
        A police car blocks the road. Body armored cops spill out.
        
        Dave leaps off the road, taking to gardens and weaving
        between houses where the cops dare not shoot.
        
                            VOICE OVER (CONT'D)
                  Humanity united under the
                  Federation of Nations and Peoples.
                      (bitter laugh)
                  Sure they did. Factions were
                  deeper than ever, but their was a
                  new class of nigger, the
                  geneadapted.
        
        
        INT. LAWYER'S OFFICES - DAY
        
        ADAM MITCHELL is seated in front of his father's lawyer
        browsing a will. He's a young man in his late teens, tall
        strong and keen eyed.
        
                            ADAM
                  This makes no sense at all. It's
                  five years old...
        
                            LAWYER
                  Your father wasn't one for some of
                  the... er... legal niceties Adam.
                  It is of course made more difficult...
        
                            ADAM
                  That he's not dead...
        
                            LAWYER
                  That the manner, timing and
                  certainty of his death is unclear.
        
                            ADAM
                  He's alive...
        
                            LAWYER
                  Then this will, albeit five years
                  out of date is useless.
        
        Suddenly there's a commotion in the foyer. The lawyer half
        stands, then reaches into his desk and pulls out a pistol.
        
                            ADAM
                  What the...
        
                            LAWYER
                  Come around here Adam.
        
                               ADAM
                  Whats...
        
        The door crashes open. The lawyer fires, Dave dodges. Dave
        leaps, striking the ceiling, then propelling himself down.
        The Lawyer might have had a pistol but Dave is a Geneaug
        soldier with his blood up. It's not a fight, its a bitch
        slapping.
        
        Adam raises his hands, fists clenched, ready.
        
        Dave rises with the lawyers weapon.
        
                            DAVE
                  Adam Mitchell?
        
        Adam nods cautiously.
        
                            DAVE (CONT'D)
                  Respectfully sir. I am your
                  property.
        
                               ADAM
                  Say again.
        
                            DAVE
                  Hurry to understand please sir. I
                  am your property sir. I have proof
                  of your father's death and his
                  final will and testament...
        
                            ADAM
                  My father's dead?
        
        Adam shakes his head almost imperceptibly, gaze fixed on the
        boy - until he understands.
        
                            DAVE
                  Your father is dead sir. By life
                  deed 152884,B 23 my colleagues and
                  I are property of Mitchell Securi-
                  bonds. With your father... being
                  dead... you are the company owner.
        
                            LAWYER
                  This is crazy!
        
        Dave flips a tiny drive to Adam.
        
                            DAVE
                  Certified last will and testament.
                  Certified death certificate with
                  supporting witness statements.
                  Good in any Federation court in the
                  solar system. If you upload the
                  files they will automatically
                  update any and all registries.
                  Then its done.
        
        Sirens arrive outside.
        
                            DAVE (CONT'D)
                  If you're going to sir, you'd best
                  hurry.
        
                            LAWYER
                  Don't do it son.
        
        Adam does it. The lawyer deflates. Dave smiles.
        
                             POLICE OFFICER (O.S.)
                  Augment. Come out with your hands
                  up or we will execute with extreme
                  prejudice.
        
        Adam looks scared.
        
                            DAVE
                  Access file urgent prompt file in
                  your neural server.
        
        Adams eyes flicker as he accesses his cyberware. The file
        urgent prompt is simple. Just a text file, that opens in his
        inner sightTM. He scans it and reads out loud.
        
                            ADAM
                  You hear me out there?
        
                            POLICE OFFICER (O.S.)
                  Who is that?
        
                            ADAM
                  Adam Mitchell. I own Mitchell
                  Securi-bonds. This augment is my
                  property.
        
        The police officer edges through the door. Battle armor and
        weapons.
        
                            POLICE OFFICER
                  Not according...
        
                            ADAM
                  WELL YOU'RE ****ING OUT OF DATE
                  SUNSHINE! THIS IS 2046 AND THINGS
                  MOVE AWFUL FAST. Keep up.
        
        This a teen, wearing the equivalent of 2046's jeans and a t-
        shirt, fronting up to a combat dressed, armed cop. Somehow
        he pulls it off.
        
                            DAVE
                  The others sir...
        
                            ADAM
                  That's right. I hear you've
                  illegally detained the rest of my
                  bonded indentures. I want them
                  released to my administration in
                  fifteen minutes or there will be
                  ****ing **** to pay! Won't there?
        
        He addresses this to the lawyer.
        
                            LAWYER
                  Oh yeah, undoubtedly... after this
                  I expect all Hell to break loose.
        
        Unsaid but written on the text file is a final sentence.
        GOOD LUCK ADAM, LOVE DAD.
        
        
        EXT. TOWN STREET - MOMENTS LATER
        
        Adam and Dave leave.
        
                            ADAM
                  Who can I trust?
        
        Dave pauses.
        
                            DAVE
                  Only those of us you have the
                  ownership papers to.
        
        [End]

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

          Code:
          [b]Chilled to the Bone[/b]
          
          OVER BLACK:  BONE-SHAKING, GOD-AWFUL RUMBLING.
          
          EXT. AN AVALANCHE - DAY
          
          A deluge of snow, pouring down like a neverending waterfall.
          
          HOARSE SCREAMING.
          
          In among the cascading snow, there are snow sleds... and 
          dogs... and MEN.  Twisted, cartwheeling, being carried to 
          their deaths.
          
          
          INT. CAVE ENTRANCE - NIGHT
          
          In this and all following scenes a background noise of 
          howling, whistling, angry wind prevails.  Blowing this way 
          and that way and rising and falling, never still.
          
          The yellow light of an oil lamp reveals six bodies laid 
          out in a neat row.  Men, dressed in Arctic explorer furs 
          and gear.
          
          Watching them is JURGENS, sat with his back against the 
          cave wall.  As tough as leather, steely eyes, matted beard.  
          Cold.
          
          His gaze lingers on the dead... then he looks around, 
          studying the cave.
          
          Carvings, on the walls.  Runes (characters etched in 
          straight lines with a hammer and chisel) are everywhere.  
          Like an alien language.  They go on, and on... and up to 
          the ceiling.
          
          Jurgens has a WTF moment.
          
          More men -- BAYER, CASEY, SMITH -- all dressed in explorer 
          furs, goggles, mittens -- enter the cave.
          
          Each man carries a heavy, canvas-wrapped package.  They 
          stack these beside the bodies.
          
          Exhausted, the men slump down beside Jurgens.
          
          Jurgens stares at the 3 packages.
          
                                JURGENS
                    That's all?
          
                                BAYER
                    We're lucky we got any!  The rest 
                    are buried under a million tons of 
                    snow.
          
                                JURGENS
                    A fine idea, storing all our food 
                    on just two of the sleds.
          
                                BAYER
                    Don't go blaming this on me!  Anders 
                    is at the bottom of the gorge.  Go 
                    complain to him!
          
          Moody silence.  Everyone stares at the bodies.
          
                                BAYER
                    We're lucky to be alive.
          
                                CASEY
                    They'll know something's wrong 
                    when we don't check in, right?  
                    They'll send a rescue team?
          
          No one answers.
          
          Jurgens allows his gaze to roam further.
          
          In a darkened corner of the cave, a deeper shadow.
          
          He gets up, takes an oil lamp, checks it out.
          
          Lamp light reveals a narrow, low-roofed tunnel.  Jurgens 
          examines the carved runes on the tunnel wall.  The tunnel 
          goes on and on until he can't see any further.
          
          He looks over his shoulder at the others.
          
          
          INT. NARROW TUNNEL - NIGHT
          
          Jurgens leads the way, the others follow, each man carrying 
          an oil lamp.
          
          The tunnel is so narrow and low that it's claustrophobic.
          
          Bayer pauses to consider the runes, carved everywhere.
          
          Casey does the same.
          
          They look at each other, then follow Jurgens, who's way 
          further ahead, a shadow backlit by his own lamp light.
          
          
          INT. JUNCTION OF TUNNELS - NIGHT
          
          Jurgens is presented with three choices, go back, or go 
          left, or go right.
          
          Every tunnel wall is covered in those runes.  Hard to tell 
          them apart.
          
          Jurgens unhooks an ice-axe from his belt and uses it to 
          chip a mark on the wall of the tunnel they just came from.
          
                                BAYER
                    What are you doing?
          
                                JURGENS
                    If we have to find our way back, 
                    we'll know it's this one.
          
          He hooks his axe back onto his belt, and chooses the right-
          hand tunnel.  One by one the others follow him.  They're 
          all wary, and maybe a little frightened.
          
          
          INT. JUNCTION OF TUNNELS - NIGHT
          
          Jurgens emerges into another junction.  More choices.  He 
          does the ice axe thing again, marking the tunnel he just 
          came out of.
          
          This time he chooses the left-hand tunnel.
          
          Bayer and Casey pause for a moment.
          
                                BAYER
                    Who made these tunnels?
          
                                CASEY
                    WHEN did they make them?
          
          They look at each other, spooked.  Then they hurry after 
          Jurgens.
          
          
          INT. BIG CAVERN - NIGHT
          
          They all emerge from the narrow tunnel.  The cavern is so 
          vast their lamp light can't touch the furthest areas, which 
          remain in darkness.
          
          And always, the howling, whistling wind.
          
          Bayer's lamp reveals more runes, right along the wall.  He 
          lifts his lamp higher.  The runes go up, and up, and up, 
          to the limit of the lamp light.
          
          Jurgens edges further out into the darkness until he's 
          alone in a pool of light from his own lamp.
          
          Something keeps drawing him forward.
          
          Bayer and Casey look at each other, where is he going?
          
          Jurgens is perhaps fifty paces away when he stops.
          
          He turns and looks back at them.
          
          They all move to join him.
          
          Jurgens stands at the edge of a canyon that splits the 
          cavern floor.  It must be twenty feet wide, at least.  
          They hold  up their lamps to reveal the far side.
          
          The bottom of the canyon can't be seen.
          
          Jurgens moves along the canyon edge.  He's sensed something.  
          He stops twenty paces on.  Beckons to the others.
          
          It's a stone bridge -- or one end of a bridge.  The middle 
          has collapsed, it's gone.  Lamp light reveals a matching 
          end, on the other side of the canyon.
          
                                BAYER
                    What in the hell is this place, 
                    Jurgens?
          
                                JURGENS
                    I don't know.  Someone obviously 
                    lived here.
          
                                BAYER
                    What if they're still here?
          
          Everyone ponders this.  They look around, casting lamp 
          light into the darkness, but don't see anything.
          
                                JURGENS
                    The bridge is old.  I think whoever 
                    built it moved on, long ago.
          
          Bayer half-turns, holds his lamp up to see better.
          
                                BAYER
                    Casey, what the hell are you doing?
          
          Casey is standing on the broken bridge, with oblivion only 
          a half-step away.  He stares across at the other side.
          
                                BAYER
                    Come back here, you idiot!  You 
                    don't know if it's safe.
          
          Casey, unconcerned, looks back at them.
          
                                CASEY
                    Why aren't we going across?
          
          Jurgens and Bayer look at each other.
          
          
          LATER
          
          Casey sits with his back against the cavern wall.  He has 
          been trussed up with rope, like a straitjacket, pinning 
          his arms.  His ankles are tied also.
          
          Because Casey is a crazy ranting madman.
          
                                CASEY (SHOUTING)
                    We have to cross the bridge!  It's 
                    the only way out of here!  Let me 
                    loose!  We've got to cross it!  
                    We'll die if we don't cross the 
                    bridge!  We can't stay here!  We 
                    have to cross the bridge.
          
          He continues to shout the same things, over and over, never 
          shutting up.
          
          Jurgen, Bayer and Smith stare at him, horrified.
          
          Smith touches the ice axe hanging from his belt.
          
                                SMITH
                    Can't we shut him up?
          
          Jurgens notices Smith's movement.
          
                                JURGENS
                    He can't do us any harm.  We need 
                    to bring the supplies in here.
          
                                BAYER
                    I'd rather return to the cave 
                    entrance.  I don't like this place.
          
                                JURGENS
                    You'll freeze to death.
          
                                BAYER
                    You think it's any warmer in here?
          
                                JURGENS
                    It's not so exposed.  We stand a 
                    better chance.
          
          
          INT. TUNNEL - NIGHT
          
          Bayer and Smith squeeze through the narrow tunnel.
          
          
          INT. CAVE ENTRANCE - NIGHT
          
          They emerge from the tunnel.
          
          Bayer holds his lamp up and squints, trying to see better.
          
          The packages are gone.
          
          The six bodies of their comrades are gone.
          
          Bayer and Smith exchange bewildered looks.
          
          
          INT. BIG CAVERN - NIGHT
          
          One of the oil lamps has burned out.  It sits beside Casey 
          who is still tied up and shouting.
          
                                CASEY (SHOUTING)
                    We've got to cross it!  We'll die 
                    if we don't cross the bridge!  We 
                    can't stay here!  We have to cross 
                    the bridge!  It's the only way out 
                    of here!  Let me loose!
          
          Bayer has reported his findings to Jurgens.
          
                                JURGENS
                    You think it could have been a 
                    polar bear?
          
                                BAYER
                    There was no blood, no prints, 
                    nothing.
          
          Smith approaches.  He looks grim, sick, horrified.
          
                                JURGENS
                    What's happened?
          
                                SMITH
                    You have to see this with your own 
                    eyes.
          
          
          INT. JUNCTION OF TUNNELS - NIGHT
          
          Smith leads Jurgens and Bayer, they all carry lamps.  Smith 
          pauses to decide which way to go, and decides it's the 
          left tunnel.  They follow him.
          
          
          INT. STALAGMITE CAVE - NIGHT
          
          Smith squeezes out of a tunnel and stands to one side, 
          holding up his lamp.
          
          Jurgens and Bayer follow him out.  They take in their 
          surroundings.  More of these damn runes, carved into every 
          wall.
          
          They see Smith is looking up at something.  They follow 
          his gaze.
          
          Dozens of stalagmite formations grow upward from the cave 
          floor, long and thin.
          
          Impaled upon six stalagmites, fifty feet above the floor, 
          are the six bodies that were taken from the cavern entrance.
          
          Jurgens and Bayer stare in horror.
          
                                JURGENS
                    How did you find them?
          
                                SMITH
                    I heard someone laughing.
          
          They stare at him.  Smith feels awkward, he won't meet 
          their gaze.
          
                                SMITH
                    I didn't know if I was going crazy 
                    like Casey.  But I had to know.  I 
                    followed the sound.  It led me 
                    here.  It stopped when I came in.
          
          Smith's lamp sputters and goes out.  It's dead.  They stare 
          at it, perhaps realizing how time-limited their supplies 
          are.  Smith puts the dead lamp down on the cave floor.
          
          Jurgens moves forward, he holds up his lamp, plays it around 
          the cave, but he can't see anything among the forest of 
          stalagmites.
          
          He turns back to the tunnel mouth.
          
                                JURGENS
                    Come on, let's go.
          
                                BAYER
                    Are we just going to leave them 
                    here?
          
                                JURGENS
                    I don't even know how the hell 
                    they got up there.  Unless you 
                    have a fifty-foot-long ladder in 
                    your pocket, then yes.
          
          Jurgens ducks into the tunnel.  Smith hesitates, then 
          follows him.  Bayer contemplates the six impaled men.  
          Then he follows Jurgens and Smith out.
          
          
          INT. BIG CAVERN - NIGHT
          
          Crazy Casey is still shouting at the top of his voice, the 
          poor bastard.
          
                                CASEY (SHOUTING)
                    Let me loose!  We've got to cross 
                    it!  We'll die if we don't cross 
                    the bridge!  We can't stay here!  
                    We have to cross the bridge.  We 
                    have to cross the bridge!  It's 
                    our only way out of here!
          
                                JURGENS
                    We must take it in turns to stand 
                    watch.
          
                                BAYER
                    What happens when our lamps run 
                    out of oil?
          
                                JURGENS
                    We use only one lamp at a time.  
                    We make them last as long as we 
                    can.
          
          Smith looks at Casey -- still shouting.
          
                                SMITH
                    I've been thinking about what he's 
                    saying.
          
                                JURGENS
                    Ignore him, he's crazy, it's the 
                    cold, or the shock, or maybe both.
          
                                SMITH
                    No, listen to him.
          
                                CASEY (SHOUTING)
                    Let me loose!  We've got to cross 
                    it!  We'll die if we don't cross 
                    the bridge!  We can't stay here!  
                    We have to cross the bridge.  We 
                    have to cross the bridge!  It's 
                    our only way out of here!
          
                                JURGENS
                    Don't let him get to you.
          
                                SMITH
                    What if the bridge was intentionally 
                    smashed?
          
                                BAYER
                    What are you saying?
          
                                SMITH
                    What if someone... what if they 
                    retreated... across the bridge... 
                    and to stop something else from 
                    following them... what if they 
                    smashed the bridge?  So they would 
                    be safe.
          
                                JURGENS
                    That's a bit far-fetched, isn't 
                    it?
          
                                SMITH
                    And what we've seen hasn't been 
                    far-fetched?
          
          Smith gestures at their surroundings.
          
                                SMITH
                    These writings, I don't know what 
                    they mean, but what if, what if 
                    they are a warning, telling us of 
                    what happened?  Of who the people 
                    who built the bridge were, and why 
                    they had to smash it, so nothing 
                    on this side could get across.
          
                                BAYER
                    And what if this thing you speak 
                    of, is on the other side, and this 
                    is the safe side?
          
                                JURGENS
                    What if there are no safe sides.
          
                                CASEY (SHOUTING)
                    Turn me loose!  We have to cross 
                    the bridge!  It's the only way out 
                    of here!  We'll die if we don't 
                    cross the bridge!  We can't stay 
                    here!  We have to cross the bridge.
          
          Everyone has a moment of nervous smiles and chuckling, 
          it's as if Casey is joining in the conversation.
          
                                JURGENS
                    How can we cross?  The bridge is 
                    broken.
          
                                SMITH
                    I'm willing to try.
          
                                JURGENS
                    Maybe we should tie you up, too.
          
                                SMITH
                    That's a good idea.  You tie rope 
                    around my waist.  I run, I jump, 
                    you hold onto the end, if I don't 
                    make it, you pull me back up.
          
          They think about this, it's do-able, they have rope...
          
                                BAYER
                    If you're willing to try.  I'm 
                    just not sure what it gets us.
          
                                SMITH
                    Maybe there's something across 
                    there I can tie the rope to.  If 
                    not, I'll hold onto it no matter 
                    what, so you can come over also.
          
          Jurgens shakes his head.  But then he shrugs, why not?
          
          [continued in next post]

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

            Code:
            [Continued from previous post]
            
            AT THE BRIDGE
            
            Jurgens and Bayer look over the edge, down into the 
            bottomless canyon.  They look at each other.  Jesus.
            
            Smith tugs on the rope around his waist.  He nods.  He's 
            ready.
            
            He lines up on the bridge, he's going to run, and jump!  
            There's plenty of play on the rope, Jurgens and Bayer hold 
            of the end.
            
                                  JURGENS
                      You sure about this?
            
                                  SMITH
                      Just don't let go!
            
                                  BAYER
                      We won't!
            
            Smith steels himself, and runs onto the bridge!  He leaps 
            like an Olympic long jump athlete, legs and arms rotating, 
            he's halfway, he's almost there--
            
            As he drops, his questing hands just touch the other side, 
            but he can't get a grip, he falls down into the canyon.
            
            The rope tightens!  Jurgens and Bayer take the strain!
            
            They suddenly fall down on their backsides, as if they
            just lost a tug-o-war contest.
            
            Jurgens pulls and pulls and the end of the rope snakes
            up over the edge of the bridge.
            
            They stare, appalled.  Smith is gone.
            
            
            AT THE TUNNEL
            
            The last oil lamp is burning, the others have died out.
            
            Jurgens and Bayer sit huddled beside Casey, downheartened 
            by events.  They shiver, chilled to the bone.
            
            Casey's head hangs, he's asleep or maybe dead, but at least 
            he's finally shut up. 
            
            Jurgen has a small notebook and writes in it using a pencil.
            
            Bayer notices, and chuckles.
            
                                  BAYER
                      Your memoirs?
            
                                  JURGENS
                      In case someone comes after us.  
                      We must tell them what happened.
            
                                  BAYER
                      I hope no one comes after us.  I 
                      don't know what this place is.  I 
                      don't know what is in here.  But 
                      it should remain hidden and buried 
                      forever.
            
            The last oil lamp flickers.  They stare at the dimming 
            flame.
            
            Jurgens closes his notebook and slips it inside his coat.
            
                                  BAYER
                      Did you say anything nice about 
                      me?
            
                                  JURGENS
                      Perhaps in the sequel, when it 
                      comes out next year.
            
            They chuckle, warmed by a last moment of comradeship.
            
            The lamp goes out.  The cavern is plunged into DARKNESS.
            
            An uncanny, screeching, inhuman LAUGHTER rings out.
            
            END

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

              Code:
              [b]Palatine[/b]
              
              FADE IN:
              
              There are two men in front of an old barn. It's around Mid-
              day and the heat is blistering down already.
              
              Farm buildings in various states of dilapidation form up
              around the enclosure, protective, but all eyes are on the
              barn's massive door.
              
              For a moment, we glimpse the land beyond the enclosure. It
              is yellow and scorched under an unremitting sun.
              
              Super:
              Somewhere in South of England, 50 years from now...
              
              Fades as we hear a scrape, metallic upon metallic. The
              shorter of the two men has flipped a heavy bolt, releasing a
              heavy metal girdle that falls to the ground.
              
              The other man wipes his face, hesitant, he has an old shotgun
              held limply in one arm. A case at his feet.
              
              The shorter man swings the door back. He was once a chemist,
              or something like.
              
              But that was before the plague.
              
                                     BYRON
                         I reckon we're lucky to have her.
              
              Looming out of the shadows of the barn a heavy diesel truck,
              army green.
              
                                     PALATINE
                         What happened to the car?
              
              Byron stumbles forward, wipes his brow, wheezing as he runs
              his hands over the massive wheel arch.
              
                                     BYRON
                         Requisitioned for other duties, they
                         don't tell me. You know how
                         everything has to be rubber stamped
                         now.
              
              Palatine strides over to the edge of the cab. Opens the
              door and places the shotgun on the seat. Then reaches down
              and picks up a strong alloy case and carefully slides it
              under the seat.
              
                                     PALATINE
                         We'd better get going... we need to
                         make the coast before dark.
              
              
              INT. TRUCK - COUNTRY ROAD - AFTERNOON
              
              Both men wear strong sun shades. The heat haze still fierce
              despite the arrival of a few clouds.
              
              They stare out at the landscape. Rolling soft hills and
              clear for miles and miles.
              
                                    BYRON
                        We're on a new route today. It'll
                        be quicker.
              
              Palatine shifts in his seat.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        They never told me that we'd been
                        authorized to deviate.
              
                                    BYRON
                        We'll probably pass London.
              
              He turns to look at Palatine.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        London is off limits... but if we
                        were close, we could see-
              
                                    BYRON
                        We're going to be pretty close
                        Palatine.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Let's just get out on the road.
              
              
              INT. JUNCTION - MOTORWAY
              
              The truck is idling. Looking down over from the top of the
              ramp, the old motorway is a frightening prospect. Blistered
              and cracks as it leads in a curve into the distance.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        How far before it becomes to hard to
                        drive on. It's a risk.
              
                                    BYRON
                        I don't know... there's a junction
                        one mile down, make that and the
                        roads on the other side are good.
              
              Palatine sighs.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Let's try it. Everything is a risk
                        out here.
              
              On the truck's exhaust. A throaty roar. Byron shifts down a
              gear decends to the motorway.
              
              
              EXT. MOTORWAY - HIGH ANGLE
              
              As it bumps down onto the fractured tarmac, it becomes stable.
              
              
              INT. TRUCK - SAME
              
              Both men holding on.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Any more of this and I'll spew up my
                        breakfast.
              
                                    BYRON
                        It's incredible, look at that stream
                        running over the road ahead, that's
                        not run off, it hasn't rained for
                        days, that's nature reclaiming the
                        land.
                                    PALATINE
                        The motorway will be swallowed up a
                        few years from now.
              
                                    BYRON
                        Look, there's the ramp, about a
                        thousand yards ahead, we get off
                        there.
              
              
              EXT. TRUCK - FROM HIGH ANGLE
              
              Takes the ramp and bursts through on to a a narrow A-road.
              
              
              INT. TRUCK - SHAKING
              
              The men... gleams of relief. High fives.
              
                                    BYRON
                        If this route isn't blocked, we'll
                        see London soon.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Nobody is ever aloud into London.
                        They must think that there is plague
                        there.
              
                                    BYRON
                        Most of us stay in our zone.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        When did you begin to live at the
                        farm.
              
                                    BYRON
                        The government gave it to me.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Any rebuilding or was it okay.
              
                                    BYRON
                        We used materials from some of the
                        other buildings.
              
              Truck shifts a gear. Low hanging branches wave in over
              the face of wind shield.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        You don't seem much like the farming
                        type.
              
                                    BYRON
                        Lab rat! That's why they have me me
                        around when you take those drugs to
                        wherever we're told to go.
              
                                       PALATINE
                        Antibiotics.
              
                                    BYRON
                        The last man, before you, got caught
                        running heroin. They shot him.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        These are antibiotics, despite the
                        restrictions on using them, in
                        emergencies, they're still allowed.
                            (heavy pause))
                        They've got a ship coming in.
              
              Byron SLAMS on the brakes.
              
                                    BYRON
                        You're kidding me?
              
                                    PALATINE
                        I never kid about something like
                        that. I figure that Quarantine have
                        been out to it already. Gave the
                        all-clear to come back in.
              
                                    BYRON
                        How long have they been out there?
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Must be at least five.
              
                                    BYRON
                        That's a feat of endurance. No riots.
                        No change of command?
              
                                    PALATINE
                        I don't know about riots but most of
                        the ships that made it out were lost
                        in storms... or to mutiny.
              
              Palatine leans down. Picks up the shotgun and stands it
              back upright.
              
                                    BYRON
                        That was my fault. Loaded?
              
              Palatine breaks open the shotgun. Where the cartridges belong
              ... is empty space.
              
                                    BYRON (CONT'D)
                        They don't give you shells. I knew
                        stocks were low-
              
                                    PALATINE
                        We've got 2 million people left in a
                        country that once had well over 60
                        million people. The government
                        probably figures that shooting a
                        single person is unacceptable, I
                        guess.
              
                                    BYRON
                        Sure, but a few would kill just to
                        get hold of antibiotics.
              
              Palatine shrugs.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        I don't think so, After what we've
                        all just been through, life has become
                        even more precious than before.
              
              Byron raises his sun glasses, in the bower of the trees its
              becoming dark.
              
                                    BYRON
                        I think we're nearly there.
              
              The truck misses a gear and then lurches forward.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Easy Byron, I'd really like to see
                        London, so don't you go dumping me
                        out on that road.
              
              They approach a log in the road, splintered, rotten, the
              truck plows straight through spraying bark everywhere.
              
                                    PALATINE (CONT'D)
                        That was an unnecessary risk.
              
                                    BYRON
                        I can tell when they're rotten. We
                        have them all over the farm. The
                        new diseases bring them down.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Maybe ease up and check next time,
                        we don't have a spare axle.
              
                                       BYRON
                        That's it!!!
              
              They are looking out over a large plain.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        I told you we were going to be getting
                        close.
              
              London. A jagged array of buildings and tall burnt-out
              towers. You can still see the scorch lines running up the
              buildings. Birds gather in hungry squadrons on the tops of
              the tallest buildings. The Shard, now like a discarded
              dagger, glints in the light, the windows shaded by greens
              giving it the impression of being infested by jungle creepers.
              
              Both men watch in silence.
              
                                    BYRON
                        I'd heard the fires were very bad,
                        really fierce but I never expected
                        to see it look so solemn.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        They burnt the heart out of the
                        city... that's for sure.
              
              A haze of smoke, an optical illusion, appears to drift up
              from deep with the city. We may be imagining it.
              
                                    BYRON
                        We'd better get going. It's only a
                        few hours until its dark.
              
              
              EXT. COAST ROAD - LATER
              
              The atmosphere is quiet, pensive, in the cab, compared to
              the febrile atmosphere of early afternoon.
              
              The cab light is on, Palatine is looking over an old map.
              
                                    BYRON
                        Can you find us?
              
                                    PALATINE
                        I think so, but some of these roads
                        have probably disappeared.
              
              Byron glances over the map, averting his eyes from the road
              for a second.
              
                                    BYRON
                        That's where I reckon we are!
                            (he stabs)
              
              Above the solemn rattling of the truck an eerie humming on
              the air.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Sounds close?
              
                                    BYRON
                            (excited)
                        Wait... I know that sound.
              
              Thousands of acres of them... the propellers of what must
              have been the old wind turbines have been replaced by
              thousands of golden glinting panels.
              
                                    PALATINE
                        It's an amazing prospect. Byron, do
                        you think we'll ever get straight,
                        back to how it was.
              
                                    BYRON
                        I've no idea... we still have a lot
                        of problems to solve. Most of the
                        harvests failed last year.
              
              Palatine looks at his watch. The dial at 8.15pm.
              
                                       PALATINE
                        My God!
              
                                       BYRON
                        You see her?
              
                                    PALATINE
                        Over in the bay.
              
                                    BYRON
                        That's her!!!
              
                                   PALATINE
              
              Out of the wind shield, we lurch forward, the camera taking
              us up high, ahead is a cruise ship, one of the old style,
              five decks. Popular in the early 21st century. She's over
              fifty years old now however, in the year OF OUR LORD... 2073.
              
                                   FINIS

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

                Code:
                [b]Untitled[/b]
                
                1.66 B&W - VERY ORSON WELLES
                
                EXT. - SNOWY FOREST CLEARING - DAY
                
                We see a tall, slender, grizzled man chop a tree with an ax.
                Head to toe, all of his clothes and effects appear AGED and
                HOMEMADE.
                
                His axe makes a distinctive mid-rangey sound, with each
                precisely timed swing: chop -- chop -- chop. The pace is
                brisk and consistant.
                
                The camera moves to reveal a SLED, a previously fallen TREE,
                and a wandering DOG, and SNOW. A close-up shows the man's
                VISIBLE BREATH.
                
                His work continues: chop -- chop -- chop.
                
                                                              CUT TO:
                
                The man aproaches one of his fallen trees, bends down, and
                grabs a VERY STRAIGHT BRANCH, a good four inches thick. He
                cuts it off CLEANLY with two swings of the axe.
                
                                                              CUT TO:
                
                Bracing a branch against a trunk, the man WHITTLES with his
                axe, shaping it into WEDGE. These swings are small and slow:
                chop______ chop______ chop______.
                
                A finished wedge and a third branch are beside. The dog
                sunbathes on the sled. The man looks a little worse for
                wear.
                
                                                              CUT TO:
                
                The man clears the trunks of branches: grab - chop - chop --
                grab - chop - chop --. A branch is at an odd angle: grab -
                turn - chop - chop --. The dog chews its nails.
                
                                                              CUT TO:
                
                The man turns a trunk so that the grain is pointing upward.
                He places a wedge in a crevice formed by where the trunk
                broke and starts tapping it in: HIT -- HIT -- HIT --. Once
                the wedge is in place, his turns a stradles the trunk and
                starts working the wedge: HIT - hit - HIT - hit -.
                
                Until he settles into a rhythm, the man moves less
                gracefully, than before.
                
                Eventually, the wedge is in as far as it can go. The man
                adds a second: HIT - hit - HIT - hit -. Eventually, a sheet
                of wood breaks away.
                
                The process repeats. The dog looks for a place to pee.
                The process repeats. The man brings his sled closer and
                starts placing the wood sheets on it.
                
                The process repeats.
                
                                                             CUT TO:
                
                With some visible fatigue, the man places the final sheet of
                wood on the sled and checks each stack to make sure its
                stable. The dog watches out of the corner of its eye,
                knowing it means they'll leave soon.
                
                Satisfied that the wood stacks are stable, the man grabs the
                sled's rope and claps his hands to tell the dog, "Time to
                leave." They leave.
                
                [end]
                Last edited by dpaterso; 06-08-2015, 09:56 AM.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

                  Code:
                  [b]The Survivor[/b]
                  
                  EXT. SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHWEST - DAY
                  
                  Dirt.
                  
                  Hard, dusty, dry land.
                  
                  A lone, slender blade of grass pokes through one of a
                  hundred baked-in cracks.
                  
                  The sky above is blue and cloudless.
                  
                  Close on the grass, closer, closer, until the parallel
                  lines of its vascular tissue are visible. It's so green.
                  How does something green even exist in this place?
                  
                  It's so still. It's so quiet.
                  
                  Then.
                  
                  The blade of grass wavers. Just the tiniest motion.
                  
                  Dust kicks up around it.
                  
                  PLOP.
                  
                  A single, fat drop of rain lands on the blade. It slides
                  down the blade, bending it until it nearly touches the
                  ground.
                  
                  The drop slips off the tip of the grass and falls, silently,
                  into the earth, where it disappears.
                  
                  PLOP.
                  
                  Another drop. Follows the same path.
                  
                  PLOP.
                  
                  PLOP.
                  
                  The sky goes gray.
                  
                  Plop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-
                  lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-
                  loplop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop-lop.
                  
                  The ground turns dark - blotchy spots that knit together
                  into patches.
                  
                  The patches connect until the entire ground is dark brown.
                  
                  Thunder R-R-R-RUMBLES. A white FLASH of lightning
                  illuminates the blade of grass just before...
                  
                  KABOOM!
                  
                  Sheets of rain hammer the ground.
                  
                  Dirt becomes mud, Becomes puddles, Becomes one united swath
                  
                  She HEAVES her torso up, out of the water and onto the
                  shutter. She wears a long sleeve shirt, plastered to her
                  skin, showing the outline of her bra.
                  
                  Her mouth opens in a GASP.
                  
                  She inhales deeply, mouth still wide.
                  
                  Breathe in.
                  
                  Breathe out.
                  
                  In.
                  
                  Out.
                  
                  Until it becomes habit again.
                  
                  She blinks, adjusting her eyes to the sun.
                  
                  Exhausted, she lets the water carry her.
                  
                                                                   FADE OUT
                  
                  FADE IN
                  
                  
                  EXT.   SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTHWEST - LATER
                  
                  The Girl's HAND scooping through the water, paddling with
                  smooth strokes.
                  
                  She sits astride the shutter, in a pair of shorts and her
                  bra. The shirt is wadded up in front of her.
                  
                  She straightens up, places on hand on her lower back. Shades
                  her eyes with the other.
                  
                  Looks ahead - water.
                  
                  To the left - water.
                  
                  To the right - water.
                  
                  Behind her - water.
                  
                  A shadow passes overhead.
                  
                  The girl tilts her head back, looks for the shadow's source.
                  
                  It's a HAWK, brown and white.
                  
                  The Girl watches it circle overhead, Beat its wings, Gather
                  speed, And soar away.
                  
                  The girl hunches over, resumes paddling.
                  
                  Heads in the direction of the hawk.
                  
                  
                  EXT. SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE SOUTHWEST - LATER
                  
                  The hawk coasts along, buffeted by the wind. It passes a
                  
                                        GIRL
                            I didn't think it would really
                            happen.
                  
                  The Woman shrugs. The Girls turns to the sky again, scanning
                  for clouds.
                  
                                        GIRL (CONT'D)
                            What if it rains again?
                  
                                        WOMAN
                            It won't. He's made His point.
                  
                  The Girls at the Woman with curiosity, but the Woman focuses
                  on her rake.
                  
                  The Girl keeps staring, at the Woman's hands, her chin,
                  her eyes. Some kind of realization dawns.
                  
                                        GIRL
                            You're her. You're the Survivor.
                  
                  The Woman turns her back to the Girl. She pulls in her
                  rake, takes another jar out of the water.
                  
                  She holds the jar in her lap, closes her eyes for a beat
                  before turning around again.
                  
                                        WOMAN
                            Apricots. You like them better?
                  
                                        GIRL
                            I didn't even think you were real. 
                            I thought it was a story they told, 
                            to make us behave.
                  
                                        WOMAN
                            Didn't work, did it?
                  
                  Their eyes meet for a moment. The Girl turns away, looks 
                  out over the water. Nothing but dirty water for miles in 
                  any direction. She shivers.
                  
                                        GIRL
                            This is awful.
                  
                  The Woman follows the Girl's gaze, sees the same endless 
                  expanse of water.
                  
                                        WOMAN
                            No, it's better this time.
                  
                  The Girl gives her a mystified look - what could be worse?
                  
                                        WOMAN
                            There are two of us.
                  
                  [End]
                  Last edited by dpaterso; 06-09-2015, 10:27 AM.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: Entries - Old World/New World short screenplay contest

                    I was reading the entries for real last night on my tablet in bed while listening to Alice Cooper on Planet Rock, and I gotta say, not bad! Drifted off the sleep feeling quite impressed.

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