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Old 10-26-2019, 12:15 AM   #1
Southern_land
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Default October 2019 Contest + results

Here we go folks. A nice 8 entries.

I've had to reformat most of these and Yahoo mail had a hissy fit. I hope I have done you justice. Any errors let me know ands I'll try to fix.

To anyone and everyone. Vote to shanecameron65 (at) yahoo dot co dot nz please before the 31st


PLEASE NOTE I MISSED ONE SCRIPT - THE CHEMIST POSTED LAST. PLEASE READ BEFORE VOTING
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:16 AM   #2
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

Body in the woods

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DARKNESS! A car engine, changes pitch, not volume. We are in the car. It stops. Car doors slam. Mumbled conversation. MOONLIGHT Reverse shot out of a car trunk. It opens. Two guys peer in. Silhouettes, two, one tall, the other squat. Someone laughs. SOMMERVILLE. An immense man. Shaved head. SOMMERVILLE ****ing Bert and Ernie! Kidnapped by Bert and his little buddy. Je-sus H. ****ing cornholing Christ what a shitty low point in my life I have reached! BERT Shut up. ERNIE Get out. EXT. WOODS CARPARK - CONTINUOUS Both men are armed. Bert with a shotgun. Ernie with an automatic 45. They step back. Oh and they definitely look like Bert and Ernie. For real. ERNIE Get the **** out! He waves his pistol. With a heartfelt groan their prisoner starts moving. And moving. And moving. He's huge. He steps out of the trunk, the car rises on its springs. They creak. He's huge. His hands are cuffed in front of him. He rolls his shoulders and neck. His neck cracks. He sighs. SOMMERVILLE Now what? BERT We go for a little walk. SOMMERVILLE To a bar? I've got the first round. BERT Funny. (points) Into the woods. Sommerville nods curtly. Strides off. The other two have to trot to catch him. They do. BERT (cont'd) What the ****? SOMMERVILLE Going for a walk. You parked the car beside this path. I figured... ERNIE Well yeah. Wait. Okay? SOMMERVILLE Why? Scared of the dark? ERNIE Me? You're the one in shitstreet! Sommerville snorts. Pauses. SOMMERVILLE Are we going or not? BERT This way. There's a clearing or something. SOMMERVILLE Right lets get this done. Ernie gets in his way. ERNIE I don't think you understand. SOMMERVILLE You sound like you're scared. What's up? Can't face what's coming? Ernie thumps him with his shotgun muzzle. ERNIE Get moving! SOMMERVILLE (to Bert) I don't think your friend's ever killed anyone before. I reckon he's up to it? Bert refuses to answer but he glances at his accomplice. ERNIE I can do it. SOMMERVILLE We'll see. EXT. WOODS CLEARING - MOMENTS LATER The moon has fully risen. They emerge. Bert and Ernie lagging behind Sommerville. ERNIE Don't you run. We'll gun you down. SOMMERVILLE Isn't that the plan? ERNIE When we're ready. BERT Louie the rat texted he'd leave a shovel here. SOMMERVILLE Louie? You haven't dug the hole yet? ****ing amateurs! ERNIE Listen... BERT No. Actually we are professionals. we don't dig holes. You do! He pokes Sommerville with his shotgun. SOMMERVILLE **** is that a cliche or what? Dig the hole. we don't dig holes, we're professionals. BERT Just do it. SOMMERVILLE Or what? BERT I'll shoot you now. SOMMERVILLE **** it. then you'll have to dig the hole. (pause) **** it! A few more minutes on this stinking planet I guess. ERNIE You don't seem very surprised. SOMMERVILLE You know Louie the Rat, I know Louie. We are not buddies. In fact after last week... BERT There! The shovel. In the clearing is another clearing. Bare dirt. Only a few spotted weeds. He kicks the shovel to Sommerville. He catches it. Wordlessly he starts digging. The hole gets deeper. The pile of earth grows. Time passes. BERT (cont'd) Okay, okay that's big enough. SOMMERVILLE Nah I'm a big lad. Needs more foot room for my big sleep. BERT Big sle... Really trying to eck out that last few minutes? Sommerville keeps shoveling. ERNIE What the **** is that smell? SOMMERVILLE Nature. ERNIE Bullshit! SOMMERVILLE Could be. But nah. That is mother nature at her finest. ERNIE Doing what? SOMMERVILLE Composting I'd say. BERT Like it's going to do to you? Sommerville keeps digging. ERNIE God that smell's getting really bad. SOMMERVILLE Have you buried anyone else here? ERNIE Don't be ****ing stupid. Why would you bury someone in the same place? SOMMERVILLE Convenience? He taps something with the shovel tip. SOMMERVILLE (cont'd) Dunno about you, but someone's buried someone here. This here, is a body. BERT What? who? Where? Get out of there! Sommerville clambers out. Holds the shovel ready to swing. But they're ready. He drops it. SOMMERVILLE See, that's a jacket. ERNIE (amazed) What are the ****ing chances? BERT Who is it? You! Back in the hole and drag that carcass out of there. Sommerville jumps back in the hole and swears. ERNIE What? SOMMERVILLE Jumped on him. he dead farted. ERNIE Jesus! SOMMERVILLE He didn't feel a thing. BERT Lift him the **** out of there you big bastard! Sommerville squats over the muddy body. Grabs the jacket lapels. Strains. Grabs the jacket differently. Strains again. Lifts. BERT (cont'd) Get it over here. SOMMERVILLE It's a him. BERT Get "him" the **** over here then. Throw him. Sommerville does. he is that big. He is that strong. The body flops between the two henchmen. A small man, pinched rodent like features. Smeared with fresh mud. A bullet hole in his forehead. ERNIE The Rat. Louie the Rat... BERT What the... CLICK. The slide on an automatic pistol. They turn. Sommerville has a cell phone in his left hand. SOMMERVILLE The Rat texted you? Sommerville has a very muddy pistol pointed at them in his right. SOMMERVILLE (cont'd) Dumb! They both try to react. Too late. SOMMERVILLE (cont'd) A twofer! Boom! Boom!
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:17 AM   #3
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

BURY ME DEEP

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INT. FUNERAL HOME FOYER - DAY Front door opens, SADFACE CLOWN enters. He wears a blue curly wig, a purple stripe clown outfit and big red shoes. INT. FUNERAL HOME GATHERING ROOM - DAY Sadface Clown peeks into the room. At the front, a coffin on display, the top half open. We don't get to see who's inside yet. Sitting in the front row, all alone, a sobbing WIDOW in black, her face hidden by a veil. Good legs, though. FUNERAL DIRECTOR (O.S.) What do you think you're doing? INT. FUNERAL HOME FOYER - DAY Sadface Clown turns, FUNERAL DIRECTOR doesn't look happy. He gestures, indicating the clown make-up, the big shoes. FUNERAL DIRECTOR This is highly disrepectful towards the deceased. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Sadface Clown pulls out a huge goddamn revolver. Funeral Director holds up his hands and steps back. SADFACE CLOWN Gimme 5 minutes. Then you can call the cops. 5 minutes, hear? Funeral Director nods quickly. Sadface Clown opens the door, enters the gathering room. INT. FUNERAL HOME GATHERING ROOM - DAY Sadface Clown waddles his way down the aisle to the front. The Widow becomes aware she's not alone, she turns her head to look at Sadface Clown. Her sobbing dries up, she takes a hankie from her purse, blows her nose. WIDOW Who the hell are you? Sadface Clown steps up to the coffin. The occupant is a man in his 40s, might have been handsome once, looks kinda waxy now. SADFACE CLOWN You might want to look away. The Widow stands up, shoves her veil up on top of her hat, she ain't ugly, her face is streaked with teary mascara. WIDOW The ****? Sadface Clown blocks her view with his body, and just as well, he's doing something to the body. CRASH-WHAM a chair explodes over his shoulders, he staggers to one side, stunned. A microsecond's glimpse of the corpse's face, his now-open mouth twisted in a rictus of grinning teeth. The Widow throws away the remains of the chair, picks up another one, gets ready to hit him again. SADFACE CLOWN Wait! He steadies himself against the coffin. The Widow hesitates, ready to let him have it. SADFACE CLOWN I had to make sure. WIDOW You're a sick piece of ****, get your ass out of here. SADFACE CLOWN This isn't him. The Widow swings the chair wildly, Sadface Clown retreats just in time to avoid having his face rearranged. SADFACE CLOWN It's not him! WIDOW You don't even know him! Get out! SADFACE CLOWN Sylvester Krinkle, right? WIDOW Anyone could have told you his name! His obituary's in the newspaper! SADFACE CLOWN I know, I saw it. She shouts to whoever might be outside, WIDOW Help! This freak's trying to **** my dead husband! SADFACE CLOWN Jesus, lady, I'm not trying to **** anyone, what is wrong with you? Anyway, it's not your husband. WIDOW You are deranged. (shouts) Need some help in here! SADFACE CLOWN Sylvester's got a gold tooth, right here. He lifts his top lip, points to his own upper gum. WIDOW He's being cremated! They take gold teeth out. Sadface Clown gestures to the coffin. SADFACE CLOWN That guy's got all his teeth. He could be in a toothpaste ad! He looks kinda like Sylvester, but it ain't him. The Widow side-eyes the guy in the coffin. WIDOW You're an idiot. Of course it's him. You think I wouldn't recognize my own husband? SADFACE CLOWN It could be Bette Middler under all that makeup. Look again. Check his teeth. WIDOW Step the **** back. Sadface Clown holds up his hands and retreats a little. The Widow approaches the open coffin... looks at the dead guy... leans in closer and inspects his teeth. She straightens, tries to figure this out. SADFACE CLOWN I knew it. I knew that rat bastard would try to screw me. The Widow looks from clown to corpse to clown. WIDOW Why are you made up like a clown? SADFACE CLOWN I'm in disguise. WIDOW You look like an idiot. This is a supposed to be a funeral service. SADFACE CLOWN For Sylvester, who isn't the guy in the coffin. WIDOW How do you know my husband? SADFACE CLOWN It's a long story. WIDOW I got time. SADFACE CLOWN I don't. Cops are gonna be here soon. WIDOW You got wheels? SADFACE CLOWN Yeah. She puts down the chair. WIDOW Let's go. Sadface Clown jerks a thumb at the coffin. SADFACE CLOWN What about him? WIDOW What about him? INT./EXT. CLOWN CAR (MOVING) - DAY The smallest car imaginable. Sadface Clown and the Widow are squeezed shoulder to shoulder inside. WIDOW We got married in June. SADFACE CLOWN Congratulations. The Widow looks out her side window, ensaddened. WIDOW Everything he told me was a lie. SADFACE CLOWN You believed him because you wanted to. WIDOW You don't know anything about me. SADFACE CLOWN I've seen him in action, he could charm the pants off Rosie O'Donnell. WIDOW And what about you? SADFACE CLOWN I never was much of a ladies' man. Sylvester was always the Lone Ranger. I'm just the horse, no one even noticed me. WIDOW I think you're getting your metaphors mixed up, you're the Dumb and Dumber of thieves. SADFACE CLOWN That's not very nice. WIDOW You went and got yourself caught while Sylvester took off with the money. He feathered himself a tidy little nest while you rotted in prison. (puzzled) The hell did you get out? SADFACE CLOWN The circus came to town. The warden thought it would be nice if they put on a performance for us prisoners. He's one of those progressive types. So he invited them inside. The Widow looks him up and down with disbelief. WIDOW So you...? SADFACE CLOWN Punched out one of the guards and put on his uniform. I didn't hurt him none. I slapped make-up on him and stuffed him into the clown fire truck. When the guards found him they thought he was a prisoner trying to escape. While they were running around blowing their whistles, I walked out the gates. WIDOW None of that makes sense. SADFACE CLOWN I know, but it's what happened. WIDOW How'd you get this car? And the clown stuff? SADFACE CLOWN Borrowed them from the circus, how do ya think? The Widow points ahead. WIDOW Over there. EXT. HOUSE - DAY The clown car pulls up. The doors open and Sadface Clown and the Widow squeeze themselves out. They straighten and tilt their heads this way and that and rotate their hips to get the kinks out. The Widow indicates the car sitting in the driveway. WIDOW I don't recognize that car. They hurry up the driveway and enter the house. INT. HOUSE FOYER - DAY Sadface Clown and the Widow pause, looking around and listening. Footsteps upstairs -- they hurry to conceal themselves. SYLVESTER comes downstairs, whistling happily and carrying a suitcase. He looks similar to the guy in the coffin, but he's alive of course. SADFACE CLOWN Hey buddy. Sylvester nearly jumps out of his skin. Sadface Clown and the Widow confront him. SYLVESTER How in the what now? SADFACE CLOWN It's good to see you alive and breathing, partner. Hell, I heard you were dead. WIDOW That's funny, I heard the same thing. SYLVESTER Clearly there's been a misunderstanding here. WIDOW If I look in that case, am I going to find my jewelry and the money from my safe in there? SYLVESTER Darling, you're loaded, you won't even miss them. WIDOW You bastard. SYLVESTER Aw, is that any way to talk to your husband? Sylvester pulls out a gun. SYLVESTER Wish you hadn't showed up. Now I gotta do this. Sadface Clown pulls out his huge revolver. SADFACE CLOWN Mine's bigger'n yours. Sylvester chuckles, it turns into a laugh. SYLVESTER You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know that's a clown gun? Go on, pull the trigger. I want to see the BANG! Right after, I'm gonna shoot you, and then the little lady. Sorry darlin'. Needs must. BANG! The huge revolver bucks. When the smoke clears Sylvester's lying there with a big hole in him. WIDOW Jesus Christ, you killed him. SADFACE CLOWN I couldn't let him shoot you. WIDOW What do we do with the body? SADFACE CLOWN You're not going to call the cops? WIDOW What did they ever do for me? They never even caught the bastard who murdered my husband. Sadface Clown thinks hard. EXT. CEMETERY - DAY A coffin is lowered into a hole in the earth. Only two mourners by the graveside, the Clown and the Widow. WIDOW At least he'll have company. FADE OUT
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:19 AM   #4
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

Digging up bones PtI

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Music from a car radio fades up over black. RANDY TRAVIS (V.O.) I’m diggin’ up bones, I’m diggin’ up bones, Exhuming things that’s better left alone. And I’m resurrecting mem’ries, of a love that’s dead and gone. Yeah, tonight I’m sittin’ alone, diggin’ up bones. FADE IN: EXT. CITY SLUM BACKSTREET - NIGHT A full moon lights the night. A dim street lamp crackles and pops. Amid the dim glow of city light pollution, it imitates lightning as it shines an intermittent bright light to the dead street below. Wayward trash tumbles across the street. On the sidewalk, a bearded, shaggy old HOMELESS MAN, dressed in a stained winter hat and heavy coat, shuffles along the cracked and broken city sidewalk. He pushes a grocery cart of black plastic trash bags, each one full. His breath condenses in the air when he huffs and grunts to make the cart go forward over the cracks and bumps of the sidewalk. EXT. PARKED SEDAN ON STREET - NIGHT The silhouette of a man in the driver’s seat blinks in and out of view each time the streetlamp becomes brightly lit. INT. PARKED SEDAN ON STREET - NIGHT DAVID WAYNE SPENCE — his face illuminated by the light of the car radio and the dim dashboard — swivels his head to search the street for activity other than the Homeless Man. Nothing. The song “Diggin’ Up Bones” begins to end as David Wayne Spence reaches over to power off the radio. The RADIO DISC JOCKEY talks over the song’s end to introduce the next song. David Wayne Spence hesitates and listens. RADIO DISC JOCKEY (V.O.) That was Randy Travis with “Diggin’ Up Bones” here on K-O-R-N Country Radio’s Halloween weekend special. The next song transitions into play on the air. RADIO DISC JOCKEY (V.O.) And now, with another song of the season, here’s Johnny Paycheck with “Pardon Me, I’ve Got Someone To Kill.” JOHNNY PAYCHECK (V.O.) I know you’ll excuse me if I say goodnight I’ve got a promise to fulfill. Thank you for listening to my troubles Pardon me, I’ve got someone to kill. CLICK. David Wayne Spence turns off the radio. He grins a malevolent grin, STARTS the engine, and shifts the car into “Drive.” David Wayne Spence spins the steering wheel away from the curb, GUNS the engine, and steers toward the Homeless Man and his grocery cart. EXT. CITY SLUM BACKSTREET - NIGHT When he hears the sedan’s engine gunned to life and the car’s approach, the doddering Homeless Man turns around. The car’s headlights bear down on him and grow brighter by the second. Eyes opened wide and paralyzed with fear, the Homeless Man freezes. EXT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT In an alleyway across the street from the Homeless Man, tucked around the corner of a building, a pile of trash sits in a heap. AMOS MOSES — another homeless man — sits buried in the pile of trash. From the top of the heap, the sullen eyes of Amos Moses peer out from beneath the visor of a frayed and tattered baseball cap. He watches the action unfold between the Homeless Man and David Wayne Spence. EXT. CITY SLUM BACKSTREET - NIGHT SERIES OF SHOTS: David Wayne Spence Kills the Homeless Man Intercut with EXT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT to show Amos Moses. -- The sedan arrives at the Homeless Man and stops short of driving up on the sidewalk. The trunk pops open. -- The Homeless Man digs furiously among his possessions. -- David Wayne Spence hurriedly exits the car with a piece of galvanized pipe in hand. -- The Homeless Man desperately yanks on a large bag. It comes up, snags, and falls halfway over the side of the cart. A small hole tears open at the snag. -- David Wayne Spence’s first blow strikes the Homeless Man. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Goddamn homeless piece of ****! -- The Homeless Man turns and raises his arms in self- defense, crossed to protect his head. HOMELESS MAN Please! I’m a disabled veteran! DAVID WAYNE SPENCE So what? Who cares? Get some of this! -- David Wayne Spence strikes a second blow to the Homeless Man’s face. A third blow. A fourth blow. More. -- Amos Moses winces from beneath the visor of his cap as each blow rains down on the Homeless Man. -- David Wayne Spence beats the Homeless Man into a heap of rags on the sidewalk. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Useless son of a bitch! -- Amos Moses closes his eyes and slinks farther down into the pile of garbage that surrounds him. AMOS MOSES Lord help him! -- David Wayne Spence picks up the body of the Homeless Man and places it in the trunk of the sedan. He gets in the sedan and drives away. -- The SOUND of the SEDAN ENGINE dies away. END SERIES OF SHOTS EXT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT Standing now, Amos Moses peers out from the corner of the building. He checks both ways, then quickly scurries across the street to the abandoned grocery cart full of bags. EXT. CITY SLUM BACKSTREET - SIDEWALK - NIGHT The weight of the part of the bag halfway over the side of the cart causes the hole to tear open more. A few pieces of crumpled, wadded “trash” tumble from the open hole. The hole stretches open a little more. More pieces of “trash” dribble out. Amos Moses comes up to the cart. He sees some of the crumpled, wadded “trash” hit the sidewalk. It begins to tumbleweed down the sidewalk. Amos Moses’ eyes grow wide. He scoops up all the nearby “trash” and raises it to eye level. Cash bills of various denominations fill his fists. AMOS MOSES Whoa. Thank you, Jesus! Won’t He do it? Won’t He will! Amen! Whoa. Amos Moses stuffs what he holds into the hole in the bag of cash, then grabs the hole in the bag to seal it. He lifts the heavy bag back into the grocery cart. Amos casts furtive glances left and right as he trundles the rattling, clattering grocery cart back to his alleyway. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD CUL-DE-SAC - NIGHT David Wayne Spence turns his sedan onto a cul-de-sac street. Signs for Real Estate firms with “Foreclosure” riders stand planted out in front of all but the two corner-lot houses that face one another. One vehicle sits parked in each of the driveways of the two facing corner lot homes. On one mailbox the name says A. STILLMAN IV, and on the other mailbox the name says F. B. DEEMING V. David Wayne Spence drives past these two homes to a house with boarded windows at the end of the cul-de-sac. EXT. ABANDONED FORECLOSED HOME - NIGHT David Wayne Spence pulls into the driveway of a home with boarded windows at the end of the cul-de-sac. The car’s headlights glance past a Real Estate sign with a “Foreclosed” rider on top. He parks behind the home, out of sight from the road. Under the trees that grow along the fence, the headlights illuminate a broken split-rail fence in a corner at the end of the overgrown yard. David Wayne Spence turns off the sedan’s engine. EXT. SUBURBAN LOT - NIGHT David Wayne Spence emerges from the area of the broken split- rail fence out onto a large, undeveloped tract of land, a vacant open lot. He wears a headlamp turned off. He carries a shovel in one hand and the body of the Homeless Man over his shoulder. He walks a short distance along the shadows created by the trees, then scouts the lot area. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Light’s just right. Perfect. David Wayne Spence allows the dead man’s body to slide from his shoulder. The body hits the ground with a dull WHUMP. David Wayne Spence takes up his shovel and begins to dig. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. SUBURBAN LOT - GRAVE SITE - NIGHT David Wayne Spence stands waist-deep in the fresh grave and shovels dirt. He throws shovelfuls of dirt over his shoulder with the rhythm of a character in a television cartoon. On the next thrust of the shovel into the dirt, it makes a THUD sound. David Wayne Spence turns on his headlamp’s red light. He peers down, then sweeps away some dirt with one hand. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE What the — is that a — what!? No way! By the red light of the headlamp, David Wayne Spence finesses the shovel to dig around the object, then reaches down to get it. He casts his shovel far from the grave, then turns off his headlamp. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE No way, man! He reaches down to lift a human skull. He brushes away dirt clods to better examine the skull by the moonlight. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Whoa. Behind David Wayne Spence appears FREDERICK B. DEEMING, who holds a length of galvanized pipe. Frederick B. Deeming raises the pipe to strike David Wayne Spence. His clothing RUSTLES and gives him away. David Wayne Spence turns in time to catch the pipe’s blow to his forehead. He reels and crumples into the freshly dug grave, still conscious but in great pain. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING Found my private cemetery, did you? DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Ohhh. Ow. I — I didn’t mean to, man. C’mon. Don’t hurt me, bruh. I mean, it looks like we’re in the same line of work, y’know what I’m sayin’? Unh. Frederick B. Deeming kneels beside the freshly dug grave to be closer to David Wayne Spence’s face. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING So I see. Yes, it does appear to be that way, now, doesn’t it? DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Ouch! Ohhh. My head. Ow. Man. Frederick B. Deeming tilts his head toward the crumpled heap of a body near the grave. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING And just who is it that you brought to MY killing field this evening, rookie? DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Unh. Homeless. Homeless guy. I whack homeless pukes in the city for kicks. Worthless scumbags. Ow. Damn. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING Hmph. Easy pickin’s. Doesn’t seem like much of a challenge, now, does it? David Wayne Spence inhales a breath through clenched teeth. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Some of ’em. Sometimes they’re high on meth, and they fight back pretty hard. What about you? Whoever you are. What’s your specialty? David Wayne Spence adjusts his headlamp to massage his forehead. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING The name’s Frederick Bailey Deeming the Fifth. Hollywood types are my game. I’m better known locally as the Hollywood Killer. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE What? Did you say “Hollywood types”? What do you mean by that? FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING Producers, agents, screenwriters — the whole kit ’n’ caboodle of ’em. There’s far too many of ’em, and they’re more of a challenge. Crafty devils, those screenwriters, though. Harder to kill. Frederick B. Deeming turns to spit, then looks down on David Wayne Spence. FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING It’s like me huntin’ wild lions compared to you and those defenseless kittens that you knock off. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Damn. But... why? I mean, why them in particular, the “Hollywood types”? FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING Why not them? Probably for the same reasons as you have — the herd’s too big, so you have to thin ’em out; the less of ’em, the better; society and the world are better off without ’em. David Wayne Spence rubs his aching head. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE Wow. Man. Yeah, I dig that. Cool. Hey. So, are WE cool, man? You and me? FREDERICK BAILEY DEEMING I’ve introduced myself. Your turn. .
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:20 AM   #5
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

Digging up bones PtII

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Frederick Bailey Deeming extends his hand. David Wayne Spence extends his hand. DAVID WAYNE SPENCE David. David Wayne Spence. Deeming grasps the hand as if to shake it. At the same time, with his other hand, he strikes Spenceís head with the galvanized pipe. David Wayne Spence goes down. Deeming slides into the grave and straddles David Wayne Spence to bludgeon him. The headlampís white flashlight accidentally turns on and illuminates Frederick B. Deemingís face. With each stroke, blood spray spatters all over him. Frederick Bailey Deeming pauses to catch his breath. Behind Deeming stands DETECTIVE ARCHY STILLMAN, the cast off shovel in hand. He raises the shovel and brings it down repeatedly on Deemingís head until he kills him. Detective Archy Stillman takes out his cell phone and dials. DESK DUTY OFFICER (V.O.) Police. What is your emergency? DETECTIVE ARCHY STILLMAN Detective Stillman here. Caught the Hollywood Killer. Yes, Iím fine. No, no shots fired. In the field behind my cul- de-sac. Iíll wait here. Bring four body- bags. Yes. Thatís right. More if youíve got íem. All right. Bye. Detective Archy Stillman looks down at his cell phone and taps it. The phone plays a country song. CORB LUND (V.O.) Dig, dig, Gravedigger. Dig, Gravedigger, dig. Work that shovel with vigor, Gravedigger. Before rigor mortis sets in, dig. Dig, dig, Gravedigger. Dig, Gravedigger, dig. That big old hole just keeps gettiní bigger, So dig, Gravedigger, dig. Far below, from the foot of the hillside, the WAIL of approaching SIRENS wafts through the air
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:21 AM   #6
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

PANDEMIC

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EXT. HILLSIDE URBAN STREET - DAY Empty. Leaves and litter blow by. We hear a strange, almost sexual, grunting. Uh- uh- uh uhhhhh! Finally... Simon Nixon staggers into sight. The grunting isn't sexual. He's straining, pushing a wheel barrow. Draped over the wheel barrow in an unconscious blond. We close on Nixon. He's looks special. Ahhhhhh **** the PC world, the guy's clearly a drooling retardo. Otherwise though, average height, solid build, looking quite raggedity around the edges. Dirty looking, 3-4 days beard. Hair unwashed. He pauses. Almost spills the girl. lowers the barrow. Eases the cramp from his hands. He eyes the girl. There's a whole lot of cleavage and leg showing. Licks his lips. Stretches out a hand, trembling. NIXON No, no, no, nononononono! Hit's himself in the temple. Hard. Then again. NIXON (cont'd) Keep moving. Gotta keep moving. Move! Move! Takes the handles again. Hint of panic. Grunts. Moves. Further up the street. Step by step. Zigzagging. EXT. WESTSIDE CLINIC - CONTINUOUS Nixon reaches the car park. A single car is parked there. Badly. Sideways, across three spaces. It's dented front and back, scratched down the sides. Late model Mercedes. Nixon reaches it. Rests. He caresses the car. Scrabbles through his pockets, like a kid. Finds keys. Presses the remote. The clinic door unlocks. An expression crosses his face. Momentary there's a sense of clarity. A brief surge of IQ. NIXON Yeah, yeah yeah. Clin-ic. Yep-yep- yep. Delivery. Good boy. Good boy. He trots towards the door. Hits his palm to his head. NIXON (cont'd) DELIVERY! Returns to the wheel barrow. Lifts it. Up the handicapped ramp. Enters the clinic. INT. WESTSIDE CLINIC - CONTINUOUS Blood smears the wall. A shoulder smudged along two meters. Hand prints. A bullet hole. Someone has sprayed arrows on the wall in fluorescent orange. He follows them. Other people though - zero. INT. LAB - CONTINUOUS Nixon wheel the barrow to the middle of the room. There's a while enamel bath. Splattered and stained. Awkwardly he lifts the woman from the barrow. Half drops her into the bath. Thud! NIXON Sorry lady, opps sopps dopps. We see a pressure switch under the the bath. It's triggered. A TV flicks on. A man appears. Nixon, maybe a fortnight earlier. Cleaner, shaven, tidy. Recorded. He fixes his future self with a steely gaze. DR NIXON Good you've found someone. Hope it didn't take too long. Jesus what a ****ing mess. The recorded figure takes a huge breath. DR NIXON (cont'd) There's a block and tackle rigged to the ceiling... (there is indeed) Loop their feet in the noose and elevate them. The recording goes static for a moment then starts repeating. Nixon fumbles repeatedly. Finally the woman's feet are secured. He hauls on the rope. She's lifted over the bath. Swinging slightly. Starting to come around. We see a knot in the rope pass through another switch. The recording blips, the changes. DR NIXON (cont'd) Good man, good. You're doing very very well. Good man! Nixon beams at the praise. DR NIXON (cont'd) Now comes the hard part. Cut her throat. (Nixon whimpers - wide eyed) Common you can do it. Common you have to do it. Mister Nixon, take the scalpel and cut her throat. Mister Nixon, now! Do as I say! Nixon holds the scalpel like a three year old clutches a crayon. He strikes. Blood jets out. He strikes again. The woman wakes, gurgling, trying to scream, dying. The cascade of blood is caught by the tub. Two-three liters gush out. It's pumped to a machine. Nixon huddles crying, watching, not fully understanding. The blood going into the drain triggers another switch. The video blips. DR NIXON (cont'd) You did what you had to. You are our only hope. You have to do as I say. Do you understand? Do you? NIXON Feel bad. DR NIXON Good, good-good. Now you must wait while. Take a seat. The seat is right beside the bloody bath. Nixon shakes his head. DR NIXON (cont'd) Take a seat. Rest. Common. I'll find some sweeties. Nixon sits. The seat traps him. Straps around his chest. More secure his arms and legs. He wriggles but this trap was thought out. DR NIXON (cont'd) Don't Panic. Just be calm. Nixon is anything but. A spray mists his face. He calms down. Passes out. Beside him the woman's blood is purified. Fresh glisten red blood into a tube, creamy yellow sludge into a phial. The blood is centrifuged to plasma. Robotic arms secures his arms. Needles extrude. He has crosses tattooed over veins. Heavy bruising over the veins. Like a junkie. Automated needles find the veins. Stab through the crosses. Thick dark blood comes out. Filtered and mixed with plasma. Reintroduced. TIME PASSES. Another spray mists his face. He wakes. The needles slide out. The straps loosen. He stares at the inverted woman. Dead and bled dry. NIXON Oh ****. Rubs his arm. He staggers out of the chair. Reaches to the woman. Doesn't touch her. NIXON (cont'd) ****! ****! ****! A sensor clicks. The video resumes playing. The new Dr Nixon is somewhere between the first image and the man now viewing it. DR NIXON You'll recall this in time but we have to move fast, get us up to speed. Plague, North Korean, we think. It's clogs the blood. Reduces cognitive function. Drastically. If untreated permanently. Oxygen starvation. The video image seems to peer at the man. Inspecting him. DR NIXON (cont'd) God knows how many IQ points we've lost. I don't know how long you... we've been infected. This is simply a recording. But if you seeing this video **** has gotten real. Your body can't replenish what's being filtered away, if you're seeing this you've had to kill to make up the shortfall with compatible blood, more likely plasma. Nixon closes his eyes and lets the voice continue. DR NIXON (cont'd) Even with the very best filtration you might have five or six days. Cold symptoms will come first, weariness, fatigue followed by... we what can only be described as mental retardation. It seems to stabilize at an IQ between 40 and 70. Ideal cognitive function for a slave worker in a socialist state. Nixon catches his reflection in a dead computer monitor. Wild haired, grubby. DR NIXON (cont'd) My advice work fast. Review the data, work towards new tests with all expediency. Follow the filtration regime and in a few days you're going to need a fresh transfusion. Maybe you'll luck upon the right blood type, otherwise plasma. He pauses again, looking really old. DR NIXON (cont'd) I'm sorry future me, I'd love to offer you more hope but you are hope. I have the skills to find a cure, hopefully you do to. The video image points towards the viewer. DR NIXON (cont'd) Work fast now. Dispose of the body, for your own sake. There's no such thing as a functioning state out there now. Dispose of the body and start work. Work hard, Work fast and be ruthless. Whatever's left of mankind needs you. Nixon glances at the stack of folders next to him. Idly leafs through one. NIXON I don't remember. The fate of mankind... He glances at the dead woman. NIXON (cont'd) You first. I can't think with you there. He lowers the body. She flops back into the wheel barrow. NIXON (cont'd) I'm a killer. But I can be the savior. God, I just wish my brain would kick start. He takes the handles of the barrow. NIXON (cont'd) Where do I hide a body? Where the **** do I... Ahhhh I guess at this stage... Yeah. He wheels the body through the clinic. He stops at a water cooler. Gulps a glass. Crumples his fists into his eyes. Stretches. He thumps his head, heal of his palm against his forehead. NIXON (cont'd) Think Goddamnit! Looks blank. NIXON (cont'd) You have to save the world you dumb S.O.B. His gaze falls on the dead woman again. Dead blank eyes seem to stare at him. NIXON (cont'd) Please don't look at me. I'm just trying to save everyone... else. **** I have to get you out of here first! INT. CLINIC - CONTINUOUS He wheels her down the corridor and into a vacant lunchroom. Its a mess. Tables and chairs knocked over. Someone has sprayed paint on the wall. DON'T! The far side of the room the doors are open to a deck. He doesn't stop. He trundles across the wooden deck. Wheelbarrow wheel THUDS across each plank. He brakes. Suddenly. The woman topples off the barrow, flops onto the deck, rolls under the balcony, and over. SPLOT! Nixon frowns. He edges closer to the balcony. Peers over. Mouths the word ****. EXT. BELOW THE BALCONY - CONTINUOUS The dead woman lays akimbo. Beneath her lies a slightly older body. And another. And another. And another. Eighty or ninety bodies lay there. The woman is the freshest. Progressively, they get older. The oldest several months old. Nixon staggers back so he can't see. Slumps against the wall. Slowly, rhythmically he starts thumping his head against the wall. NIXON I'd forgotten. I swear it.
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:22 AM   #7
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THE CREDIT BUREAU FADE IN: INT. WAITING ROOM - DAY Outdated and barren. Chairs line the walls. The lights flicker overhead making a BUZZ noise. An office door in one end. The glass on the door says "The Credit Bureau". INT. OFFICE - CONTINUOUS A dark, not so modern office. An OVERFLOWING ashtray sits on a beautiful wooden desk. By far the nicest thing in the room. SHIRLEY(100's?) sits behind the desk. Smoke billows from most parts of her body. She's old school, just like her 200 pound monitor. JEFFERY LAUNCHER(40's) sits across the desk on the only chair there. He's a man of opposites. Big face but small eyes, eight slice toaster head but only a few carefully placed strands of hair. Short legs and big feet, the total package. LAUNCHER (using his own personal) (sign language) I'm re-tired. Do... you... understand? SHIRLEY Listen listen listen. I need you to train someone. The last guy was a disaster. LAUNCHER Not my problem. SHIRLEY You can get your hundredth credit. Launcher calms down and perks up, his feet get closer to touching the floor. LAUNCHER The all time leader. Shirley starts hacking and coughing. She uses a shiny silver lighter to light another smoke. Her hands shake. The flame almost singes her eyebrows. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) When? SHIRLEY Right now, the credit is time sensitive. Shirley pushes a button on her desk. The door opens and SLY(29) bursts in. He's the opposite of Launcher. Tall, handsome and has normal sized body parts. He's dressed like a wannabe mafia hit man. SHIRLEY (CONT’D) Launcher, this is Sly, your replacement. EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - DAY A van drives along a country road. The leaves have turned colors. The sun is getting low in the sky. The van slows and turns down a smaller country road and parks. This is the middle of nowhere. INT. VAN - CONTINUOUS Launcher sits hunched over the wheel. He can barely see over the dash. Launcher takes a look at Sly in the passenger seat. Looks him up and down. LAUNCHER And you think you can replace me? Launcher opens the door. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) Come on young me, we gotta get rid of the credit. EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - CONTINUOUS Sly gets out of the van and goes to the back doors. Launcher heads into the bush. He comes out pushing a wooden cart. LAUNCHER Just where I left it. When we finish, make sure you put it back there. Sly gets out of the way. Launcher is all business, he puts the cart down and rips open the van doors. A big sack is on the van floor. It looks like a giant bag of potatoes. Launcher grabs it and starts to pull. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) A little help. Sly takes a side and they pull the sack out and slide it into the cart. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) (cont'd) That was easy. SLY (Mumbles) Piece of piss. LAUNCHER You're a pretty chatty guy eh Sly. SLY That's what your wife says. Launcher just looks at him. One more job. He picks up the cart and walks towards the bush ... in he goes. EXT. WALKING PATH - CONTINUOUS Launcher comes out of the bush and pushes the cart up a small hill onto a long and winding path with trees on both sides. The fall colors are impressive. Sly stumbles out, looks around, proceeds up the hill. LAUNCHER Here you push this. Do something. Launcher puts the cart down and checks his watch. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) We got five minutes. Let's go. Sly bends over to pick up the cart. His jacket comes up a little. A gun is tucked into his belt. Sly starts pushing the cart. Fast. Launchers short legs are moving like an egg beater to keep up. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) (cont'd) Slow down, I said we got five minutes to get to the wall. The pace slows. SLY What is this place? LAUNCHER It used to be railroad tracks. They took them out and turned it into a walking path that nobody uses. Shirley bought the land. SLY Lucky for us. LAUNCHER (Looking at the sack) Unlucky for some. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) Listen up, I'm only going to say this once. The path takes a turn. In the distance there are some fields. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) (cont'd) You have to take the credit to the wall at exactly six pm. SHIRLEY Why six? Launcher ignores him. LAUNCHER The wall is in that field up there. SLY What happens if I'm late? LAUNCHER I don't know. I've never been late. Shirley doesn't mess around. They approach a field. It hasn't been worked in years. On a hill at the top of the field is an old farmhouse. It has seen better days. It looks deserted. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) There were three people before you trying for this job. SLY Where'd they go? LAUNCHER Ask Shirley. At the bottom of the field, just off the path is an old concrete wall. There is a round hole in the bottom. It looks out of place. Almost tombstone shaped. Engraved in it is "1938". SLY What the hell is that? Launcher checks his watch. LAUNCHER Have the credit here on time. Launcher starts to lift the sack, Sly comes in and helps. If there was any doubt, this confirms it is a body. They carry it to the front of the wall and set it down. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) And last, when we go through. Calm the f#$& down. Launcher grabs the sack and pushes it through the hole in the wall. It's gone. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) (cont'd) Follow me. Launcher gets down and dives into the hole. He's gone. EXT. FIELD - CONTINUOUS Sly comes through the wall. Stands up... looks around. The wall is longer and newer looking. The field has corn in it. The path is gone, replaced with train tracks. The house on the hill looks alive, smoke shoots out the chimney into the fall sky. SLY This isn't possible. How did you find it? LAUNCHER Shirley does it all. Come on let's get this in the ground and then I never have to see your ugly face again. Launcher walks to the other side of the wall. A fresh grave sits waiting. Above it, connected to the wall is a jimmy rigged grave filler. Dirt is piled high on the wall. It's all held together by a rope. Sly drags the sack to the side of the wall. Launcher is inspecting the grave filler. He keeps an eye on Sly. Now's his chance, Sly reaches under his jacket and pulls out the gun. SLY Sorry, but not really. Launcher just grins. LAUNCHER Shirley's idea? SLY Just cleaning up some loose ends. Now, get over there so I don't have to drag your fat ass. Launcher moves closer to the grave. His eyes move back and forth rapidly. LAUNCHER Hope you enjoy 1938. I never told you how to get back. SLY Nice try. Launcher just stands there, poker faced. He's a survivor. Sly gets a little fidgety. LAUNCHER Go ahead, throw a rock through. It won't go anywhere. Sly takes the bait. He picks up a rock, gets ready to throw it. In a flash, Launcher moves on Sly. Before Sly knows what's going on the gun is out of his hand. The little creature is fast. They wrestle, Sly trips and falls. Launcher pulls a knife out and jumps on top. LAUNCHER (CONT’D) You thought you could take me out? Sly struggles to hold the knife away from his throat. A final burst of energy and the knife retreats. Launcher gets both hands free, raises them over his head. Just as he's about to end it... BANG. Launcher flinches. Blood comes out of his mouth. A FOOT pushes him into the grave as a HAND takes the knife from him. Sly crawls on his back. His feet push him closer and closer to the grave. The GUN takes aim. BANG. Sly slides into the grave. A beautiful young WOMAN takes the knife and cuts the rope. The jimmy rig works perfectly. The grave is full in seconds. She drops the knife. Pulls a smoke out and lights it with the shiny silver lighter. This time, her hand doesn't shake. WOMAN It's good to be home. She walks towards the house. FADE OUT.:
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:23 AM   #8
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THE WISH

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FADE IN: (PRESENT DAY) EXT. - NIGHT A brisk breeze scurries clouds across the full moon. We SEE a broken-down farmhouse that has been through better times. Broken windows, a missing front door, and railings hanging off the front porch. A faint light shimmers through a side window. INT. - FARMHOUSE - NIGHT Four teenagers sit cross-legged around a chalk circle encasing a pentagram drawn on the floor. A lit candle rests in front of each young person, illuminating the symbols and letters embossing the pentagram. DANIEL, a nerdish fellow sporting glasses and an ill-fitting shirt, studies a notebook, holding it close to his candle. To Daniel’s left is NICOLE. A pretty face marred by nose and lip rings. Across from Daniel sits BRYAN, a chunky fellow up for anything involving girls or food. To Daniel’s right is PATTIE, dressed a little too proper for the excursion. NICOLE Come on. Get this show on the road. DANIEL Almost there. Pentagram and symbols, check. Candles lit, check. Now for the secret sauce. Daniel pulls a cloth bag from his pocket. He sprinkles a flaky mixture into his hand and tosses it into the pentagram. DANIEL (CONT’D) The only thing left is to chant the name. BRYAN You don’t have to mutter Greek stuff? PATTIE Latin. BRYAN Whatever. DANIEL Here we go. GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS. Nothing. DANIEL (CONT’D) GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS. NICOLE This is a bunch of crap. DANIEL No, they say it always works. Pattie, got any ideas? PATTIE Gimme the notebook. Pattie grabs the notebook, looks it over. PATTIE (CONT’D) You dumbass. It’s a French name. You say it John Lou-ee, with a soft j. BRYAN A soft j. DANIEL I didn’t know. Okay. JOHN LOU-EE, JOHN LOU-EE, JOHN LOU-EE. Nothing at first, then with a CLAP of thunder a shadowy, robed figure appears at the center of the pentagram. The teens jump to their feet and step back. JOLLENE Who summoned the mighty and benevolent JOLLENE to grant their wish? No one answers. JOLLENE (CONT’D) Who summoned Jollene from the pits of Hades? Daniel musters his courage. DANIEL Actually, Ms. Jollene, we were trying to summon a fellow named-- BRYAN --Shut up, Daniel. Didn’t you hear the wish thing? Bryan turns to Jollene. BRYAN (CONT’D) I have a wish. JOLLENE Wish carefully BRYAN I wish I was worth my weight in gold. JOLLENE Done. Jollene waves her hand. Bryan stiffens as his skin turns the color of 24 karat. He wobbles and falls onto the floor with a THUD that shakes the room. Jollene turns to Nicole. JOLLENE (CONT’D) And yours? NICOLE I want you to turn back the time to before you arrived. Jollene shakes her head. JOLLENE Too, too cliche. Jollene faces Daniel. JOLLENE (CONT’D) And what for you? DANIEL I want three more wishes. Jollene sighs. JOLLENE I will choose for you. This will be interesting. Pattie interrupts. PATTIE Wait, magnificent Jollene. I’ve got a wish. JOLLENE Don’t waste my time. PATTIE I wish for a page one rewrite. JOLLENE Sweet. NICOLE Hey, that’s the same as-- JOLLENE --Hush. NICOLE Yes, benevolent Jollene. Jollene waves her hand. EXT. - NIGHT A brisk breeze scurries clouds across the full moon. We SEE a broken-down farmhouse that has been through better times. Broken windows, a missing front door, and railings hanging off the front porch. A faint light shimmers through a side window. INT. - FARMHOUSE - NIGHT Four teenagers sit cross-legged around a chalk circle encasing a pentagram drawn on the floor. A lit candle rests in front of each young person, illuminating the symbols and letters embossing the pentagram. DANIEL, a nerdish fellow sporting glasses and an ill-fitting shirt, studies a notebook, holding it close to his candle. To Daniel’s left is NICOLE. A pretty face marred by nose and lip rings. Across from Daniel sits BRYAN, a chunky fellow up for anything involving girls or food. To Daniel’s right is PATTIE, dressed a little too proper for the excursion. NICOLE Come on. Get this show on the road. DANIEL Almost there. Pentagram and symbols, check. Candles lit, check. Now for the secret sauce. Daniel pulls a cloth bag from his pocket. He sprinkles a flaky mixture into his hand and tosses it into the pentagram. DANIEL (CONT’D) The only thing left is to chant the name. BRYAN You don’t have to mutter Greek stuff? PATTIE Latin. BRYAN Whatever. DANIEL Here we go. GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS. Nothing. DANIEL (CONT’D) GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS, GENE LEWIS. NICOLE This is a bunch of crap. DANIEL No, they say it always works. Pattie, got any ideas? PATTIE Gimme the notebook. Pattie grabs the notebook, holds it over her candle. As flames erupt, she tosses it into the pentagram. PATTIE (CONT’D) My idea is beer and pizza. BRYAN Sounds like a plan to me. NICOLE No anchovies. But black olives would be good. Pattie stands. DANIEL But-- Pattie grabs Daniel’s ear, pulls him up and toward the door. PATTIE --Come on, dumbass. The four walk to the doorway. PATTIE (CONT’D) By the way, Bryan, how much do you weigh? BRYAN One hundred eighty pounds of bristling manliness. Why do you ask? PATTIE Just curious. FADE OUT
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Old 10-26-2019, 12:24 AM   #9
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The Wop FADE IN:INT. MODERN APARTMENT - DAY It's kinda like the apartment in FRIENDS except different, there's a big couch and chairs, plus a little kitchen, all in the one room. On the other side, a white door and a pink door. The pink door has a sign, GIRLS ONLY. The hallway door opens, and RICH enters with TOMMY. They are both good-looking early 20s white guys who belong on TV. Tommy drags a suitcase on wheels. RICH So here it is, wha'da ya think? AUDIENCE CHEERING TRACK plays, as if this is a favorite character returning. Tommy is puzzled, he looks around, he looks up, where is it coming from, who's laughing? TOMMY What? RICH This is the living room, if you hadn't already figured it out. Rich points to the white door. RICH Our rooms are through there, yours is second on the right, it was Frankie's room. TOMMY What happened to Frankie? RICH We don't ask what happened to Frankie. Rich points to the pink door with the GIRLS ONLY sign. RICH You never go through that door, that's the girls' rooms, got it? TOMMY Yeah I got it. The pink door opens and DAISY steps out, 20s, a pretty blonde in a fluffy dressing gown with matching towel on her head. She sees Tommy and puts her hand to her heart. DAISY Oh, my! AUDIENCE LAUGHTER AND CHEERING TRACK. Tommy is wondering WTF is going on here? Rich excitedly throws his hands at Tommy as if he's introducing a new stage act. RICH I told you about Tommy, this is him, this is the guy! DAISY You didn't say you were bringing him here this morning, why I could have been naked. AUDIENCE LAUGHTER TRACK. Tommy is dazed. RICH She's kidding, that's a rule, we put clothes on if we're coming out of our rooms, no walking around in your boxers, got it? TOMMY I'll try to remember.Daisy moves daintily to the kitchen and switches on the coffee machine, while looking over her shoulder at Tommy with what might be interest. RICH Where's Lana? DAISY She's having a lie-in. She was out late last night, poor thing. RICH She's out late every night, tell me something I don't know. AUDIENCE LAUGHTER TRACK. TOMMY What is that, that noise? Daisy beckons Rich over. DAISY Can I see you a moment? Rich smiles at Tommy, excuse me, and moves to join Daisy, they confer quietly, their backs to the room. Tommy just stands waiting, he looks around, nice place. The pink door opens and LOUIS, a big Italian guy with lots of black curly hair, wearing just his boxers, peeks out. Louis sees Rich and Daisy talking with their backs to him and tip-toes to the white door like a pantomine figure. He freezes halfway with one foot raised when he notices Tommy. Louis frowns thinking, who the fuvk is this guy? Louis raises a finger to his lips, shhh! He opens the DAISY (cont'd) Do you have any bad habits? TOMMY Well if I did, I'd do them somewhere else, not here. I'm not going to poop in my own nest. LANA That's a quaint saying, very Ohio. RICH Hey, where's the wop? TOMMY Excuse me? DAISY Don't call him that, what if he hears you? LANA Louis's our other roommate. RICH Wait till you see this guy, he thinks he's really something. The Italian fvcking stallion. He's a fvcking wop, is what he is. TOMMY Dude, that's not cool. RICH You one of them social justice warriors, hey? AUDIENCE LAUGHTER TRACK. TOMMY Hey whoever's doing that, it's not funny. RICH Lighten up, man. (to Daisy and Lana) ) You wanna take that vote? Who says our friend Tommy gets to stay? Daisy raises her hand. LANA Maybe Louis should be here if we're taking a vote. RICH Louis, Louis, I'm fed up hearing his goddamn name. He shouldn't be here, he doesn't belong here. TOMMY Because he's a wop? DAISY He's a bad person. LANA He hurt me. Lana bows her head and quietly cries. Daisy moves to put her arms around her and comfort her. AUDIENCE LAUGHTER TRACK. TOMMY Jesus will you stop that, whoever's doing it? AUDIENCE LAUGHTER TRACK GROWS LOUDER. Tommy claps his hands over his ears. TOMMY (cont'd) Quit it! INT. THE TRUNK OF A SEDAN - NIGHT Dimly seen movement... a shifting body groans... The trunk suddenly opens! Louis shines a flashlight. Tommy lies tied up and gagged. Light reveals he's sharing the trunk with Lana, they're eye to eye, he's lying on top of her! But Lana isn't protesting because she's been shot through the head. Tommy has a moment of horror as he realizes this. Louis sticks the flashlight in his mouth and reaches in and rolls Tommy off her. He drags Lana's corpse out of the trunk.Tommy lies there, helpless, listening. The unmistakable sound of a SHOVEL moving earth. Between panting breaths, as he digs, Louis talks. LOUIS (O.S.) Fvcking stupid bitch... Couldn't keep your mouth shut... Couldn't keep your nose out my fvcking business... Now I gotta... Kill 'em all... Fvck! Tommy half-rolls over in the trunk and suddenly he's staring at Rich, whose swollen face bears marks of extreme violence. Rich is only wearing boxers. He's unconscious... or dead. Tommy closes his eyes and whimpers at this nightmare. THUMP. The shoveling stops. LOUIS (O.S.) (CONT'D) Jesus Christ, what the fvck? Some more shoveling, and scraping. LOUIS (O.S.) (CONT'D) Frankie! You son of a bitch! I never thought I'd see you again! Louis laughs, hard and loud. LOUIS (O.S.) (CONT'D) (cont'd) I never realized I was right on top of ya, sorry man. It's a sweet spot. Plenty room for more, hey? You like some company? This is Lana. You'll like her, she's got a great ass. Tommy can't take it any more, he screams through his gag and kicks and kicks, making a hell of a racket. LOUIS (O.S.) (CONT'D) Hey hold up, we got a screamer here. I mean Jesus, like my night isn't sh!t enough already. Louis's footsteps thump back to the car. He shines his flashlight in Tommy's face, causing Tommy to screw up his eyes. LOUIS I never got your name, pal, but you know what? Doesn't matter. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. C'mere, a$$wipe. Louis grabs Tommy and lifts him out of the trunk. EXT. NEW JERSEY PARKLAND - NIGHT Louis has been busy, there's a big hole, about to become a mass grave. Dead Lana lies alongside the hole, ready to be rolled in.At the bottom of the hole is a man-size bundle wrapped in black plastic. Louis drags Tommy up and just chucks him into the hole. AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HOLE CRUNCH! Tommy falls onto the black plastic bundle. He groans and squirms in pain. Louis looks down at him from above. LOUIS (cont'd) Say hello to Frankie. Me and him were like brothers. Until he stole from me. Tell him about it, Frankie. Tell him how I waited till you was taking a wizz, and I put a bullet into the back of your dumb head. THUMP! Dead Lana lands beside Tommy, just missing him. Louis moves out of sight, back to the car. Tommy lies there helplessly. He frowns, his eyes swivel, he tries to look over his own shoulder, it's awkward, it's dark, but... A tear in the black plastic... a glimpse of a collar and shirt and tie, worn by a rotting corpse. Tommy's wrists are bound but he reaches inside, feels around. His expression conveys his deep disgust. Ewww.Louis comes into view again, dragging Rich to the hole. LOUIS (cont'd) Incoming! Ha ha! He drops Rich down, Tommy rolls onto his side to avoid being struck, and--BLAM! Louis is puzzled, he looks down at his chest. Sees a dark spot in his shirt, like spilled ink, spreading. He pitches forward into the hole like a felled tree.CRUNCH! Louis just misses Tommy, lands on other bodies. He stares at Tommy with unseeing eyes. Tommy lies there, crying. In his hand, a smoking pistol he must have taken from Frankie's corpse. One shot, with his hands tied behind his back. Tommy rubs his face against his shoulder until the gag finally rolls away from his mouth and he can shout. EXT. NEW JERSEY PARKLAND - NIGHT The open grave, seen from the sedan. TOMMY (O.S.) Help? Somebody? Anybody? Help? FADE TO: INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT Daisy, hunched up in a blanket, big bruise on her face, she looks up as someone offers her a mug of coffee. She accepts it with shaky hands, takes a sip. DAISY Thanks. POLICE DETECTIVE (O.S.) You said this guy's name is Louis? DAISY That's right. He's a wop. POLICE DETECTIVE (O.S.) Excuse me? FADE OUT: THE END
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Last edited by Southern_land : 10-27-2019 at 01:57 PM.
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Old 10-26-2019, 04:34 PM   #10
Southern_land
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Default Re: October 2019 Contest

The Chemist
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FADE IN: EXT. MOUNTAIN HILLTOP CLEARING - DAY SUPER: EASTERN KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS, 1936 Sunlight dapples the ground in a clearing. Destroying Angel mushrooms grow from leaf litter at the base of oak trees. Nearby in the clearing, a patch of freshly turned earth sits in stark contrast to the clearingís plants and leaf litter. ADA LOUELLA KETCH, mid 40ís with frizzy gray hair, wears gardening gloves to pick the wild Destroying Angel mushrooms into a small wicker basket with a handle and lid. Ada startles when she realizes that she stands close to the freshly dug earth. She frowns, goes to it, stamps her foot on it with a GRUNT, then spits on the ground. She leaves and waddles down the hill back to her mountain shack home. EXT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY JOHN ďJACKĒ KETCH, a neatly-dressed young man in his middle 20ís, wrangles a steering wheel. He pilots a bouncing 1930 Plymouth Roadster uphill on a rough dirt road. The car pulls up to the Ketch family home, a crude shack with a tin roof. He cuts the engine, exits the car, and hurries to the door. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY At the kitchen counter, Ada wears an apron and makes biscuits. Flour dust covers her work area. She flattens dough with a rolling pin, then cuts biscuits with an empty tin can. The wicker basket sits to the back of the counter. An open cupboard door reveals three shelves: a lower shelf for salt, pepper, and everyday cooking spices; a middle shelf for Crisco shortening, Karo syrup, and items used less often; and an upper shelf for powders and chemicals. On the upper shelf near other powders sits a can of Bergerís Paris Green rat poison, its label shouts ďPoisonĒ warnings. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY Jack enters the main room of the house. JACK Iím home, Mother! ADA In the kitchen! Jack passes through the main room. A bed of a burlap sack stuffed with straw in a corner of the family room offers TUCKER, a young Bluetick Coonhound, some comfort as he MOANS and GROANS in pain. Jack goes over to him, then kneels to pet him. JACK Whatís wrong with Tucker? Ada calls out from the kitchen. ADA (O.S.) Donít rightly know. He et somethiní he oughtnít tí have, I reckon. Jack goes into the kitchen. Ada hurries to put the biscuits in the oven. A pot of gravy bubbles on top of the stove. JACK Hope heís all right. Biscuits and gravy? My favorite! Whereís Father? Ada brushes the flour dust from her apron. She smooths the apron against her body, gives Jack a look, and walks away. ADA Come. Set down. Thereís sumpín I need tí tell ye. Ye need to know. Ada leads the way to the dining table. Jack follows her. JACK Tell me? What? Is he ... dead? They take seats across from one another at the four-place dining table made from rough-hewn lumber. ADA Ye know that we cainít read nor write. So, we had the church piano player tí come over on Sundays after church to read to us from the Bible and tí read yer letters. Well, your father, cuss him, done run oft with that lady. JACK What?! Thatís -- itís -- difficult to swallow. Iím so sorry, Mother. Ada SNIFFLES. Her voice QUAVERS. ADA They got to likiní each other so much, they done run oft together! Thatís all there is to it! They ainít noí more to it than that! Ada cries. Jack frowns. He shakes his head. JACK Mother. Please donít cry. Weíll get by. Now that Iíve graduated as a chemist, Iíll drive over to Prestonsburg to see if thereís any work for me there. Ada nods. Jack looks at Tucker. Ada eyes Jack through her tears. Jack looks to Ada. She lowers her eyes. ADA Donít know why he done it. I was gittiní too old fer íim, mebbe. Donít know why he done it. No, indeed. Donít know why. Donít know. Jack pats his mother on her back. He gets up from the table and goes to the fireplace mantle. A Gilbert clock TICKS the time. Jack looks at a framed B&W photograph of his parents. INSERT - PARENTS PHOTOGRAPH The father and mother smile. The fatherís smile shows one of his front teeth broken off halfway. BACK TO SCENE JACK Twenty-four years. Who would have ever guessed he would do this? INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - THE NEXT DAY Jack watches a restless Tucker. The dog WHIMPERS, then stiffens into a sawhorse position, and exhales a death rattle. Jack pets him and sheds a tear. INT. BARN - DAY Jack hoists the burlap-shrouded dogís carcass to his shoulder, then picks up a shovel. LUKE, a 5-year-old dark bay draft horse, NICKERS to Jack. Jack leaves the barn. EXT. MOUNTAIN FARM - DAY On the way up the hillside toward the pond, Jack sees dog tracks on a new trail. The trail veers away from the pond to a stand of trees on the hilltop. EXT. MOUNTAIN HILLTOP CLEARING - DAY Jack tracks the dogís trail to the patch of freshly dug earth where Ada picked mushrooms. He lays the dog gently to the ground. Jack pokes his shovel into the fresh dirt. The shovel goes in deep without difficulty. Jack digs there. Jack Ketch uncovers his fatherís body. The ashen face and its open mouth full of dirt makes Jack stare. Jack finds a small stick. He lifts the corpseís lip to reveal its broken front tooth. Jack pulls the body by its feet from the shallow grave and drags it out of the way. Jack takes up his shovel to dig a deeper grave. EXT. MOUNTAIN HILLTOP CLEARING - DAY Jack drags his fatherís body over to the grave and rolls it in. It lands with a DULL THUD. He picks up the dead dog and drops it on top of the dead man. It lands with a DULL THUD. JACK Now, Father, you and Tucker can go ícoon huntiní again. Rest in peace. Jack takes up his shovel and casts dirt into the grave. EXT. MOUNTAIN FARM - DAY Jack passes near the farm pond. The sunís angle plays on the pondís surface. A glint from beneath the waterís surface catches Jackís eye. He stops. JACK What on earth is that? EXT. MOUNTAIN FARM POND - DAY Jack goes to the pondís edge. He maneuvers himself until the sunlight catches the glint again. Jack squints to see. The light strikes through the pond water. It reveals a car rooftop and glints from the glass of its rear window. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY Ada prepares vegetable beef stew in a cast iron pot. The diced Destroying Angel mushrooms sit in a pile on the cutting board with other chopped vegetables. More of the toxic Destroying Angel mushrooms remain in the open basket. Ada closes the basket lid, picks up the cutting board, then uses a knife to sweep the cut vegetables into the stew pot. INT. BARN - DAY In the barn, Jack hitches a harness to Luke. He coils a rope, throws it over Lukeís harness, and leads the horse from the barn. As he walks the horse up to the pond, Jack sweats. He clutches and presses his gut. EXT. MOUNTAIN FARM POND - DAY Luke stands still, the rope tied to his harness. Jack pays out the rope as he wades out to the car. Jack goes under the water to pass the rope around the bumper. He stands up, ties the rope in a bowline hitch knot, and tests it. Jack hauls himself out of the pond back to Luke. Dripping wet, Jack stands next to Luke and pats his shoulder twice. JACK Good hoss, Luke. Now, Giddup! Luke pulls forward. The rope becomes taut. Luke strains to pull the car from the pond. The back of the car rises slowly from the water as it rolls into shallow water. Jack watches. An arm dangles from an open window. A snapping turtle clings to it as it rises from the water. The decayed, torn, turtle-eaten arm of the unseen corpse tears from its socket, splashes into the pond, and disappears, turtle and all. Jack clutches his gut. JACK Whoa, Luke! Luke stands still. He strains into his harness to hold the weight of the car in its position. Jack bends at the waist and vomits. Jack stares at the car. He shakes his head. Jack takes out his pocket knife, steps carefully to the edge of the pond, and cuts the rope. Luke NICKERS to Jack. Jack watches the car roll back into the pond and disappear. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY Ada smokes a corncob pipe and fidgets in her rocking chair. She dabs a damp dishtowel on her face and neck to keep cool. Jack returns. In silence, he washes up at the kitchen sink. ADA Stewís ready, but I ainít. Not feeliní hongry. Help yíself. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY At the table, Ada has no stew. She sips from her coffee mug. Ada feigns illness and holds her hand to her head. ADA Donít feel none too good, fer some reason. Still not hongry. Goiní tí bed without any supper. Donít waste the stew. Heíp yerself. JACK Sure, Mother. Thanks for makiní it. As she shuffles to her bedroom, Ada glances at Jack to see him eat. She smiles and trundles off to her bedroom. Jack searches the kitchen cupboard. He finds the one-pound can of Bergerís Paris Green powdered rat poison. Two skull- and-bones images flank its label name. The word ďPOISONĒ appears beneath each skull-and-bones image. JACK Yes. This must be it. Jack takes the rat poison from the cupboard. He mixes the poison powder with some water and uses a spoon to coat the inside of his motherís coffee mug. Jack makes hot coffee, pours a mug, and takes it to his mother. Ada drinks it heartily before going to sleep. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - THE NEXT DAY Jack poisons Adaís first mug of coffee, then hands it to her at the dining table. He prepares breakfast for himself. Ada becomes more ill. She sweats. Jack notes her symptoms. JACK Mother. Go lie down. Iíll bring you another coffee in a little while. Coffee mug in hand, Ada shuffles back to her bedroom. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY In the kitchen, Jack adds more rat poison to another mug of hot coffee to take to his mother. INT. ADAíS BEDROOM - DAY Ada sweats in her bed. As the dog did, Ada WHINES and GROANS. Jack hands his mother a fresh mug of hot coffee. More slowly than before, Ada sips the coffee. Jack takes a seat in a chair. He lights an oil lamp on a table and waits. Ada sweats and GROANS. Jack leaves. Ada labors to breathe. Jack returns with the one-pound can of rat poison. He hides it from Adaís view as he pulls up a chair to her bedside. JACK Took Tucker up on top of the hill to bury him, right where heíd been layiní for days, leastaways ítil he got so sick. When I went to bury him, do you know what happened? I dug up Father! Thatís right. I found Father dead and gone in a hole right up there on the hilltop. I thought to myself, ďHow in the world did he get here, I wonder?Ē Jack thrusts the can and its label in his motherís face. Wild- eyed, Ada tries to move. Jack drops the can. He grabs Adaís arm to stop her. Ada GROANS, her eyes fixed on Jack. JACK After I buried Father and Tucker together, I walked past the pond. And donít you know that the Lord played His sunlight just right so that I could see a car under the water? A car, Mother! Well, I got Luke and pulled out that car. Until I saw that poor dead womanís arm fall off. Turtles had eaten her up, Mother! So, I cut the rope, and back into the water she went. Ada breathes hard and fast. Sweat streams down her temples. JACK What is wrong with your mind!? Why did you kill them, Mother!? Why did you kill them!? Tell me! Weak and sick, Ada GRUNTS between phrases as she speaks. ADA I ... I reckon I got jealous of íem. Allus haviní fun with one another, readiní the Bible and yer letters aní writiní to ye. They fairly shut me out of all of it. JACK So, did you poison Tucker, too? Ada nods. Tears roll down her cheeks. ADA I was mad at your father! JACK Damn you, woman! We LOVED that dog! (he fumes) As ye sow, so shall ye reap. Isnít that right, Mother? Wild-eyed and breathless, Ada nods to appease Jack. Jack lunges forward face to face with Ada. With both hands, he clutches her by the throat and chokes the life from her. The light fades from Adaís open eyes until they become dull. EXT. MOUNTAIN HILLTOP CLEARING - DAY Sunlight dapples the ground in the clearing. Beside his fatherís grave, Jack digs a grave for his mother. Adaís body lies nearby in a burlap sack. Her white legs stick out. INT. THE KETCH FAMILY HOME - DAY Jack eats some stew. Suddenly, he stands. His nose bleeds and drips on the table. He clutches his gut and vomits. Jack stumbles to the kitchen. Frantic, he overturns the basket of toxic mushrooms. Jack realizes his predicament. JACK Oh, no! Mother! DAMN YOU, MOTHER!
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