SL's FGMS Writing Contest (entries + results see post #34)

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  • SL's FGMS Writing Contest (entries + results see post #34)

    Everyone and anyone please emailing me with 1st 2nd and 3rds. More votes the better even if you didn't enter.

    shanecameron65 at yahoo dot co dot nz please call it "voting"

    Code:
    Last Stop
    
    FADE IN:
    
    EXT. DARK DESERT HIGHWAY - DUSK
    
    A SPORTS CAR zooms along, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
    
    
    INT. SPORTS CAR - MOVING - DUSK
    
    THE DRIVER is young, handsome, wind ruffles his hair.
    
    His eyes flicker to the horizon -- sun's going down.
    
    He switches on his headlights.
    
    
    EXT. SPANISH MISSION - DUSK
    
    A BELL TOLLS as the sports car zooms by.
    
    
    INT. SPORTS CAR - MOVING - DUSK
    
    The Driver stifles a yawn.  Man, it's been long day.
    
    INSERT DRIVER'S POV - the road ahead blurs.
    
    The Driver's eyelids droop, tiredness overtakes him and 
    just for a second he's driving with his eyes closed.
    
    He starts awake!  Grips the wheel.  Man, that was crazy!
    
    Up ahead on the road -- a shimmering light.
    
    He frowns, not sure what it is.
    
    The sun sinks below the horizon, transition to NIGHT.
    
    
    EXT. HOTEL IN THE DESERT - NIGHT
    
    The source of the light.  The sports car approaches, slows.
    
    
    INT. SPORTS CAR - MOVING - DUSK
    
    The Driver debates, stop or go on?
    
    
    EXT. HOTEL IN THE DESERT - NIGHT
    
    A beautiful young Mexican woman stands in the doorway, 
    light framing her divine form, shining off her lustrous 
    hair.  This is MERCEDES.
    
    
    INT. SPORTS CAR - MOVING - DUSK
    
    The Driver slows and pulls into the hotel parking lot.
    
    There are other cars here, he finds an empty spot, switches 
    off his headlights and engine.
    
    Mercedes still stands in the doorway, staring at him.
    
    The Driver just sits in his car, drinking her in.
    
    Her full lips twist into a knowing half-smile that could 
    denote amusement or cruelty.  She turns and goes inside.
    
    The Driver opens his door and climbs out.  He locks the 
    sports car and spins his keyring around his finger like a 
    gunfighter spinning a six-gun.  He heads on inside.
    
    
    INT. HOTEL RECEPTION - NIGHT
    
    The Driver stops.  The place is eerily lit by candles on 
    the walls, like the interior of a spooky old church.
    
    Mercedes stands behind the reception counter.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              You got any rooms? 
    
                          MERCEDES
              I have a room for you, yes.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              How much does it cost?
    
                          MERCEDES
              Let's worry about that later.
    
    She picks up a candelabra and leads the way to an inner 
    hallway.  She looks back over her shoulder at him with 
    seductive eyes.
    
    The Driver has a "Wow, what?" moment.  He follows her.
    
    
    INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT
    
    Mercedes walks ahead, her candles casting light.  His gaze 
    takes in her swaying hips.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Nice place you got here.  Very 
              atmospheric.
    
    He pauses as he hears WHISPERING VOICES that seem to come 
    from all around.  Suddenly they stop, leaving him puzzled.
    
    Mercedes stands waiting at a door up ahead.  She watches 
    him curiously.  He hurries to join her.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Sorry, I thought I heard something.
    
    She opens the door wide, revealing a bedroom.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    Four-poster bed, antique furniture, mirrors on the ceiling.  
    Mercedes puts the candelabra down.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Hey, this is nice.  I'm not sure I 
              can afford it, though.
    
                          MERCEDES
              This is my room.  I thought you 
              might want to sleep here.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Where are you going to sleep?
    
                          MERCEDES
              With you.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Huh.
    
                          MERCEDES
              Does this surprise you?
    
    He turns and closes the door.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              I just wanted to be sure.
    
    She removes her dress, not taking her eyes off him.
    
    He can't take his eyes off her either, he's hypotized.
    
    She is naked and she is beautiful and she comes into his 
    arms.  She reaches up and gently touches his cheek.
    
                          MERCEDES
              Such a lovely face.
    
    She kisses him passionately.  He returns the favor.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    LATER.
    
    They lie together in bed, asleep.
    
    The Driver wakes up.  He stares at his own reflection in 
    the ceiling mirror.  He frowns and looks at the window, as 
    if he's heard something.
    
    He slips out of the bed without waking Mercedes and moves 
    to the shuttered window.  He cautiously opens one of the 
    shutters, just an inch.
    
    
    EXT. HOTEL COURTYARD - NIGHT
    
    A dozen MEN AND WOMEN wearing hooded robes dance in a slowly 
    moving circle, waving their arms around while they gaze up 
    at the stars, as if they're all high as kites.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    The Driver has no goddamn idea what's going on.
    
    He JUMPS as he realizes Mercedes is standing beside him.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Jesus.
    
    Mercedes closes the shutter.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              What are they doing?
    
                          MERCEDES
              I am not certain.  I think perhaps 
              some dance to remember.  And some 
              dance to forget.  There is no need 
              to concern yourself.
    
    She melts against him and pulls him down to kiss him.
    
                          MERCEDES
              Let's go back to bed.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              I could do with a drink, how 'bout 
              you?
    
                          MERCEDES
              I'm okay.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              They do room service?
    
                          MERCEDES
              Yes, the night captain is always 
              available.
    
    The Driver slips out of her embrace, picks up the phone 
    receiver and dials.  Distant RINGING... then a TINNY VOICE 
    speaks, but we can't make out the words.
    
                          THE DRIVER (INTO PHONE)
              Hey, how about sending a bottle of 
              Jack and the biggest plate of 
              chicken wings you got along to...?
    
    He looks at Mercedes, she's sitting on the bed, pretty as 
    a picture, thinks nothing of being naked.
    
                          MERCEDES
              Room Thirteen.
    
                          THE DRIVER (INTO PHONE)
              Send them to Room Thirteen.
    
    The TINNY VOICE speaks... The Driver listens, frowns...
    
                          THE DRIVER (INTO PHONE)
              What d'you mean, you haven't had 
              that since...?
    
    The TINNY VOICE says something else.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              No, I don't want goddamn pink 
              champagne, with or without ice.
    
    The Driver hangs up and looks at Mercedes.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              I don't want to complain after you 
              took me to bed and all, but your 
              room service sucks.
    
                          MERCEDES
              I am sorry.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Hey, it's not your fault.
    
    He cocks his head as if he's heard something.
    
    And now we hear it too, those WHISPERING VOICES again.
    
    The Driver goes to the window and opens the shutter again.
    
    
    EXT. HOTEL COURTYARD - NIGHT
    
    This time the courtyard is empty, everyone's gone.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    The Driver turns from the window.  He still hears those 
    WHISPERING VOICES.  Puzzling as heck.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              You hearing that, too?
    
    Mercedes shrugs a shoulder, non-commital.
    
    The Driver strides to the door, opens it.
    
    
    INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT
    
    The Driver sticks his head out into the corridor.  He looks 
    left and right.  Sees nothing out here.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    The Driver finds his shirt and pants and puts them on.  He 
    slips into his shoes.
    
                          MERCEDES
              Please stay with me.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              I'll be back in a tick.  Keep it 
              warm.
    
    He exits.
    
    
    INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT
    
    WHISPERING VOICES come from everywhere.
    
    The Driver strides along the corridor, seeking the source.
    
    He passes a set of double doors.  He stops, backtracks.  
    He puts an ear to the wood and listens.
    
    He hears a HUBBUB OF ANGRY VOICES AND SCREAMS, as if there's 
    some kind of fight going on in there.
    
    He throws both doors open.
    
    
    INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT
    
    The hooded men and women he saw in the courtyard are all 
    in here, surrounding a big table, chairs have been thrown 
    aside so they can get to--
    
    A wriggling monster whose thrashing tentacles keep the 
    hooded people at bay, while they try to slash at it with 
    knives.  It has a dozen huge eyeballs, on stalks.
    
    A tentacle bats a man across the room, he thumps into the 
    wall and slides down.
    
    A woman screams as she's grabbed and lifted off her feet, 
    another tentacle wraps itself around her neck and pulls 
    her head clean off.
    
    Knives cut into the creature's pulsing body, causing it to 
    leak bright green blood.
    
    A man jumps up onto the table and cuts off one of the big 
    eyeballs.  A tentacle skewers him through the chest, 
    emerging from his back in an explosion of blood.
    
    A woman being held by tentacles shouts to The Driver, 
    frantically indicating a silver bowl at the end of the 
    table that's filled with a bubbling, steaming liquid.
    
                          FRANTIC WOMAN
              Get the binding fluid!  Get the 
              binding fluid!
    
    The Driver backs out of the room, pulling the twin doors 
    shut behind him.  Sounds of the struggle continue inside.
    
    He hurries back to the bedroom, throws the door open.
    
    
    INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
    
    The Driver looks in -- but Mercedes isn't here.
    
    
    INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT
    
    He hurries back along the corridor.
    
    The WHISPERING VOICES get louder and louder.
    
    He claps his hands over his ears, wanting them to stop!
    
    
    INT. HOTEL RECEPTION - NIGHT
    
    The Driver hurries in from the corridor.  He stops when he 
    sees the NIGHT CAPTAIN behind the counter, a mustached man 
    wearing a uniform with gold braid.
    
                          NIGHT CAPTAIN
              Are you checking out, sir?
    
                          THE DRIVER
              You bet.  Goodnight!
    
    The Driver heads for the front door, he grasps the handle, 
    turns it, tries to open the door.  It won't budge.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              What gives?  Unlock it.
    
    The Night Captain looks sad.  He shakes his head.
    
    The Driver gapes as the hooded men and women flood out of 
    the corridor and spread out around him.
    
    One of them throws back her hood -- it's Mercedes.
    
                          NIGHT CAPTAIN
              Did you take his seed, daughter?
    
                          MERCEDES
              It flows within me.
    
                          NIGHT CAPTAIN
              Then let his blood appease the old 
              one's hunger.
    
                          HOODED MEN AND WOMEN
              Appease the old one's hunger.
    
    The Driver looks from Mercedes to the Night Captain to the 
    hooded lunatics, trying to follow what they're saying. 
    
                          NIGHT CAPTAIN
              Take him!
    
    The Driver pulls out his keyring and spins it around as if 
    it's a ninja weapon.
    
                          THE DRIVER
              Come and get it, freaks!
    
    They dive on him and overwhelm him and bundle him away.
    
                          THE DRIVER (O.S.)
              No!  NO!
    
    The crowd vanishes, taking The Driver with them.  Only 
    Mercedes remains.
    
    Regret shows in her expression.  She wipes a tear from her 
    eye.  Then she turns and follows the crowd.
    
    The Night Captain looks directly into camera.  And in the 
    most sinister voice ever heard, says:
    
                          NIGHT CAPTAIN
              You can check out any time you 
              like.  But you can never leave.
    
    FADE OUT
    Last edited by Southern_land; 04-02-2019, 09:25 PM.
    I heard the starting gun


    sigpic

  • #2
    Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

    THOTRS
    Code:
    EXT. PARISH PRISON GATE, NEW ORLEANS, ESTABLISHING - DAYBREAK
    
    Sunlight struggles to break through dense, fast-shifting fog. 
    An ornate thirty foot iron gate emerges from the ether.
    
    PARISH PRISON - NEW ORLEANS 1927
    
    Two FIGURES approach the gate from inside the prison yard.
    
    JOHNNY “GOOD LUCK” JAMES, 20s, a real shark of a man, dressed 
    in the finest threads of the time: fedora, pleated slacks, 
    wife beater, loose bowtie, shirt slung over his shoulder.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Butt me one, Arny?
    
    ARNOLD, 50s, prison guard, reaches into his pocket, shakes 
    out a cigarette from an open pack. A bag in his other hand.
                             
                             ARNOLD
                Sure, Bo. Whatever you say.
    
    Johnny takes it, pops it between his lips, nods. Arnold 
    pockets the butts, pulls matches and fires one up. Johnny 
    drags on the butt. It CRACKLES and SNAPS.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Got the ole ball and chain?
                             
                             ARNOLD
                Sure you want it back? Supposed to 
                mean something.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                It does, means I’m going home.
    
    Arnold empties the bag into Johnny’s hand, a gold band and a 
    gold Rolex Marconi pocket watch. Johnny slips on the band. He 
    studies the watch.
                             
                             ARNOLD
                Don’t give it to the Butter And Egg 
                Man, I don’t care how much cabbage you 
                lose, ya’ hear?
    
    Engraving reads, “The sun still rises after a bad night.”
    
    Johnny nods, pockets the watch. Arnold unlocks the gate, it 
    SQUEALS OPEN. Johnny nods back and heads down the road, 
    disappearing into the mist.
    
    EXT. NEW ORLEANS, TOWN STREET - DAY
    
    Johnny walks up the steps of a small craftsman style 
    bungalow, a dive that’s seen better days. A sign reads:
    
    TAILOR MADE - ALTERATIONS AND DESIGNS
    
    The porch screen door slams open and a young WOMAN leaps into 
    Johnny’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He spins 
    her, locked in a passionate kiss-- he carries her inside.
    
    INT. JOHNNY’S HOUSE, BEDROOM - LATER
    
    BETTY JAMES, 20s, the face of a doll and the body of a pinup, 
    lays half covered in a sheet-- basking in the afterglow.
    
    Johnny reaches for his butts on the nightstand and lights 
    one. He heads into the shower. Betty watches him go.
                             
                             BETTY
                Headed out to the drum tonight?
                        (no response)
                I wouldn’t. Mary Jane said Billy Bob’s 
                been gunnin’ for ya’.
    
    She gets up, slips on a silk robe. She lights a butt, leaning 
    back against the bathroom door frame.
                             
                             BETTY (cont'd)
                Says he’s still sore with ya’ ‘bout 
                last time. Wants to even the score.
                        (exhales)
                You know the Butcher works for ‘em, 
                now, right? He’s his new hatchet man, 
                I heard the stories...
    
    Johnny’s grabs a towel from the rack. He opens the shower 
    curtain, towel wrapped around his waist and steps out.
                             
                             JOHNNY BOY
                Can you spot me a few clams, doll?
                             
                             BETTY
                If I say, no?
                             
                             JOHNNY BOY
                You want me to go to the Butter And 
                Egg Man?
                             
                             BETTY
                So you can get pinched an’ end up in 
                the cooler with a new set of 
                bracelets? No, I don’t.
                        (picks up purse)
    
    I got a bad feeling in my gut, baby, like last time only 
    worse.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                        (kisses her)
                Now don’t you worry that pretty little 
                head, none, if Billy Bob had a beef 
                with me, he’d a done something while 
                I’s in the can.
                             
                             BETTY
                Less he wants to make it up close an 
                personal-like.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Nah, that’s not his style, ‘sides he’s 
                got bigger fish fry-- I heard he’s 
                bootleggin’ as far north as Memphis. 
                I’m just small potatoes.
    
    The candlestick telephone rings. She picks it up, speaking 
    into the mouthpiece, holding the transmitter to her ear.
                             
                             BETTY
                Sure, Cha-lie, he’s here. Just make 
                sure you don’t get my fella behind the 
                eight ball, ya’ hear? We got church on 
                Sunday.
    
    Betty hands the phone and transmitter to Johnny with a coy 
    little smile. He takes it from her. Giving her a loving kiss.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                You make me dizzy.
                        (into phone)
                Hey, Cha-lie, yeah, just got into town 
                ‘bout an ‘our ago. You still got that 
                ole jalopy?
    
    EXT. JOHN BOY'S HOUSE, FRONT PORCH - EARLY EVENING
    
    Johnny hops into Charlie’s jalopy. Betty leans in through the 
    window. Arms resting on the car window frame.
                             
                             BETTY
                You be careful, ya’ hear, Cha-lie. I 
                don’t wanna hear no stories ‘bout you 
                being a sap, an’ owing your first born 
                or nothin’ like that.
    
    CHARLIE, 20s, pockmarked cherub dressed in knickers, an 
    argyle vest and newsboy hat. His smile makes us smile back.
    
    BETTY (CONT'D)
                             
                             CHARLIE
                Yes, ma’am.
                             
                             BETTY
                Now, I’ma gonna hold you to your word. 
                You jus’ remember, I know where yo’ 
                mama lives. And you, Mr. Johnny “Good 
                luck” James...
                        (kisses him)
                Before daylight, if you don’t mind.
    
    Johnny checks the time on his pocket watch. Snaps it shut.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Yes, ma’am.
    
    Betty crosses her arms and watches the car chug away.
    
    EXT. BACKWOODS COUNTRY ROAD, BAYOU - DUSK
    
    The jalopy passes the bayou as a blood-orange sun sinks 
    behind a dark, silent swamp. The jalopy BACKFIRES, BAM! A 
    flock of crows take flight.
    
    Headlights hit a sign: O’ROURKE’S PHARMACY
    
    Charlie pulls around back, packed full of parked cars.
    
    INT. O’ROURKE’S PHARMACY, SPEAKEASY - NIGHT
    
    Charlie leads Johnny through the dark pharmacy to:
    
    BACK STAIRCASE
    
    He heads down the stairs, flicks on a flashlight.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Where’d ya’ get the torch?
                             
                             CHARLIE
                Won it in a game last Saturday night. 
                You like it?
                             
                             JOHNNY
                It’d be dandy to get me one.
                             
                             CHARLIE
                Tonight’s the night, Johnny. I feel 
                it, it’s gonna be a night to remember.
    
    DOWN THE HALLWAY
    
    A heavy wooden door awaits them. Charlie raps the lion’s head 
    knocker. A small peep door opens--
                             
                             MUSCLE
                Word?
                             
                             CHARLIE
                Clip joint.
    
    The door creaks open.
    
    SPEAKEASY
    
    Swanky and stylish. Velvet chairs and sofas, a lively craps 
    table, bar and two poker tables.
    
    ROSALIE, 20s, belts out a song on stage.
    
    It’s the roaring twenties and sexy FLAPPERS deliver drinks 
    from the bar to a mix of PATRONS. Some with money to spare, 
    some drowning their sorrows.
    
    MUSCLEMEN deter any UPPITY TYPES thinking about flexing.
    
    Johnny and Charlie post up at the bar. BARTENDER steps up.
                             
                             BARTENDER
                “Good luck” Johnny--
                        (shakes his hand)
                Pick your poison.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Two Old Foresters. We’re feeling lucky 
                tonight.
                        (nods to Rosalie)
                Who’s the canary?
    
    Bartender chops ice with a pick. Drops two chunks into 
    glasses and pours the drinks.
                             
                             BARTENDER
                Rosalie, a pro skirt. She’ll cost ya’ 
                all your bank for a single night. That 
                is, if Billy Bob lets ya’.
    
    Johnny stares at Rosalie. She winks at him.
                             
                             CHARLIE
                She’s Billy Bob’s Moll. Great.
                        (to Johnny)
                Don’t go gettin’ stuck on her.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                She’s got a nice set of get away 
                sticks. And the fire extinguisher?
    
    THE BUTCHER, 30s, stands peeling an orange with a karambit. A 
    curved blade designed to split a man open in a single swipe.
                             
                             BARTENDER
                That’s The Butcher. He’ll dry-gultch 
                anyone who side-eyes Rosalie.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Can we sit in on a few hands?
    
    POKER TABLE - SERIES OF SHOTS:
    
    -- BUTTER AND EGG MAN, a high roller, has stacks of chips 
    before him. He plays opposite Johnny. Charlie’s all smiles, 
    in it for the fun, the chicks and the booze.
    
    -- Flappers deliver a constant flow of liquor. The game gets 
    serious. Charlie’s out, flirting with Flappers. Music and 
    drinks. Laughter and defeat as another player folds.
    
    -- Johnny puffs on a cuban. His pile growing. He checks his 
    pocket watch. Snaps it closed. Butter and Egg Man notices. 
    Rosalie belts out another set. The Butcher watches Johnny.
    
    -- A CROWD gathers around the poker table. Johnny slaps down 
    a winning hand-- claims the huge pile, sweeping it to his 
    side. The Crowd cheers.
    
    -- Johnny wins another hand. More drinks. More cubans. 
    Another PLAYER folds. Now it’s The Butter And Egg Man and 
    Johnny, and Johnny’s pile is larger.
    
    -- A Flapper steps up to Johnny with love and attention. 
    Rosalie thwarts her efforts with a glance. The Flapper moves 
    away quickly. Rosalie moves in, a panther to its kill.
    
    Rosalie trails her hand across Johnny’s shoulders.
                             
                             ROSALIE
                Now, ain’t you a sheik fella. Lookin’ 
                for a Moll?
    
    Johnny holds up his left hand thumbs his ring--
                             
                             JOHNNY
                If I wasn’t hitched to a ball an’ 
                chain, we’d be watching the sun come 
                up, doll.
    
    She glances at his cards, discretely glances to the Butter 
    And Egg Man. She winks. Charlie sees it, signals Johnny.
    
    ACROSS THE ROOM
    
    BILLY BOB, 40s, as tall as he is wide, steps into the room. 
    The Butcher whispers to Billy Bob as he dead-eyes Johnny.
    
    AT THE POKER TABLE
    
    Charlie watches as Billy Bob and The Butcher head their way.
                             
                             CHARLIE
                Time to take a powder, Johnny.
    
    The Butter And Egg Man shoves all his chips to the center.
                             
                             BUTTER AND EGG MAN
                All in.
    
    Johnny shoves all his chips into the center. He checks his 
    pocket watch. Snaps it closed.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                I call.
                             
                             BUTTER AND EGG MAN
                How ‘bout you throw in that Marconi 
                watch. It is a Rolex ain’t it?
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Ain’t up for grabs.
    
    Rosalie leans down and gives Johnny a kiss on the cheek--
                             
                             ROSALIE
                Oh, what’s that?
    
    What’s what? Rosalie reaches down under the table and 
    produces a card.
                             
                             ROSALIE (cont'd)
                        (innocently)
                Looks like you lost a card, lover.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                Where’d you get that?
                             
                             BUTTER AND EGG MAN
                You a grifter? What kind of racket you 
                runnin’ here Billy Bob.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                No one calls me a cheat--
    
    Johnny leaps over the table, clamping on his pipes, choking 
    the life out of him. A brawl ensues. The Butcher pulls Johnny 
    back, Musclemen hold back the Butter And Egg Man.
                             
                             BUTTER AND EGG MAN
                He owes me!
    
    EXT. BACKWOODS COUNTRY ROAD, BAYOU - TWILIGHT
    
    Musclemen hold Johnny upright, bloody and beaten. The Butcher 
    stands beside Billy Bob who holds Johnny’s pocket watch, 
    checking the time. The Butter And Egg Man stands beside him.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                        (emotional)
                My wife gave me that.
                             
                             BILLY BOB
                        (recites)
                “The sun still rises after a bad 
                night.” Ya should’a stayed with her.
                             
                             JOHNNY
                What’s it gonna be? Nevada gas? Lead 
                poisoning?
    
    Billy Bob nods to The Butcher. He pulls his karambit and 
    swipes across Johnny’s gut-- clean through his clothes.
    
    A SCREAM-- Johnny’s eyes fill with tears as he stares at the 
    horrified face of Betty collapsing to her knees, screaming 
    hysterically as Musclemen hold her arms behind her.
                             
                             BETTY
                NO! No! Johnny! Please, Johnny-- don’t 
                leave me, Johnny, please, please, 
                baby, don’t leave me...
    
    As Johnny’s dying body gives way, they release Betty-- she 
    crawls to his side, cradling him in her arms-- she kisses him 
    tenderly, chanting his name. He raises his eyes to meet hers--
                             
                             JOHNNY
                        (a small smile)
                You make me dizzy. The sun will still 
                rise tomorrow. Promise me--
                             
                             BETTY
                I promise, baby. I promise.
    
    She kisses him as his final breath escapes him.
    I heard the starting gun


    sigpic

    Comment


    • #3
      Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

      Brink of Insanity
      Code:
      BRINK OF INSANITY
      FADE IN:
      
      EXT. COUNTRYSIDE - DAY
      
      Farmland. Fields of wheat and corn surround an older farm
      house. The house is freshly painted on the front, but the
      sides are peeling.
                               
                               WOMAN (O.S.)
                          (On phone)
                  I know, I know. I said I'll talk to 
                  him tonight... I gotta go, he'll be
                  home soon... I love you too.
      
      INT. HOUSE/KITCHEN - DAY
      
      Three pots boil and a frying pan sizzles.
      
      PRISCILLA (40's), moves around like a machine. She looks 
      beyond her years.
      
      Priscilla shakes the frying pan, checks the clock on the wall 
      and begins to place things on a serving tray.
      
      Priscilla looks at the clock again, straightens her apron and 
      hair in a wall mirror. It's almost showtime.
      
      EXT. HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
      
      A pick up truck speeds up the long driveway, dust flows on
      the corn. The truck stops outside the kitchen window.
      
      INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
      
      Priscilla calmly rushes to the freezer. Opens it, pulls out a 
      bottle of Jack Daniels and puts it on the tray. The frost on 
      the bottle rises.
      
      Dust restricts the view from the window. The sound of the
      
      truck door SLAMMING shut rattles the kitchen.
      
      Priscilla takes a deep breath and checks the clock.
      
      EXT. FRONT PORCH - DAY
      
      Priscilla places the tray on a small table. She meticulously
      places four cigarettes next to an ashtray.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  One, two, three, four.
      
      Priscilla grabs a lighter from the tray, checks the height of 
      the flame and places it in the ashtray.
      
      She takes a glass and adds ice.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  One, two, three, four.
      
      Priscilla pours Jack Daniels to the top of the ice. The ice
      
      snap, crackle and pops with delight.
                               
                               MAN (O.S.)
                  I'm home.
      
      Priscilla closes her eye's and puts on a big smile.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Welcome back, how was your day? I
                  missed you.
      
      DUSTY (40's), slicked back hair, grey teeth and eye's that 
      bulge when he exerts effort takes a seat. He's wearing a work 
      shirt with his name on it.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Same **** different day.
      
      Dusty grabs the drink and finishes it in one swallow. He 
      throws the ice off the porch and slams the glass onto the 
      table.
      
      Priscilla immediately puts more ice into the glass. Dusty 
      checks the flame, lights a smoke and takes a long pull.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  One, two, three, four.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Do you have to count every time you 
                  do that?
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Want to get it right.
      Priscilla pours another drink.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  I'll finish dinner, it'll be on the
                  table in ....
      
      Dusty stares at a pocket watch.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Twelve minutes.
      
      Priscilla leaves, Dusty lights another smoke and takes 
      another big drink.
      
      INT. DINING ROOM - DAY
      
      Priscilla enters holding two plates. Dusty sits with his 
      pocket watch open on the table. She sets them down and takes 
      her spot across from Dusty.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  I made your favorite.
      
      Dusty holds a huge steak knife, starts to dig in. Table 
      manners must cost a lot.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  Blueberry pie for dessert too.
      
      Dusty is agitated. He chews slowly, his eye's bulge.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Favorite dinner, favorite dessert.  
                  Did I win the lottery?
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  My sister called today.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Oh for f%^$ sake. Can't I just go
                  to work, come home without this
                  bullshit.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  My mom's sick. Real sick. She wants
                  to see me before she...
      
      Priscilla starts to cry. Dusty just eats, cuts more meat with 
      his giant steak knife.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  You can't go. I'm not running a
                  charity here.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  I haven't seen her for fifteen
                  years. They gave her two months.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  I don't care.
      
      Dusty starts to rage. His eye's are bug like.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  It's my mother, I want to see her.
      
      Dusty slams the steak knife into the table through the 
      napkin. It stands on its own.
      
      Dusty grabs the knife and pulls it out. The napkin comes with 
      it.
      
      The TABLE has numerous knife marks.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  Okay okay, I won't go.
      
      Dusty just eats. Head down. Elbows out.
      
      He cleans the plate with a morsel of bread.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  I'm ready for my blueberry pie
                  baby.
      
      INT. DINING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
      
      Priscilla returns with two beautiful pieces of blueberry pie.  
      Dusty lunges at his slice.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Eat up.
      
      Dusty devours the pie. Gone.
      
      Priscilla doesn't touch hers.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  That was the best blueberyyyyy...
      
      Dusty face plants.
      
      INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
      
      Dusty is tied to a chair, unconscious. He twitches and moves.
      
      Priscilla walks around him. Slaps him, slaps him again. He's 
      awake.
                               
                               DUSTY
                  Huh, what's going on.
      
      Priscilla stops in front of him, turns around and takes
      
      something from the table.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Remember on our first date, you
                  said you'd take care of me forever?
                               
                               DUSTY
                          (Confused)
                  I guess.
      
      Priscilla turns around, she has a gun in her hand.  Dusty 
      tries to break free, no hope. Priscilla spins and points the 
      gun at him.
      
      Priscilla shoves the pocket watch in his face.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Times up.
      
      Priscilla cocks the gun. Pulls the trigger. Nothing.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  One, you're a f%^&^%g bully.
      
      She cocks the gun again. Pulls the trigger. Nothing.
                               
                               PRISCILLA
                  Two, you're a f%^&*g *******.
      
      Dusty's shirt is covered in sweat. Priscilla paces behind
      him. Stops, cocks the gun. Pop... nothing.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D)
                  Three, I'll miss you.
      
      Dusty is a mess. He's crying, shaking and begging.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D) (cont'd)
                  Last chance tough guy.
      
      She cocks the gun, moves around Dusty, puts the gun to his
      temple.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D) (cont'd)
                  Four.
      
      She clicks the trigger. Nothing.
                               
                               PRISCILLA (CONT'D) (cont'd)
                  Goodbye.
      
      Priscilla puts the gun on the table and walks out.
      Behind the gun are four bullets.
      FADE OUT.
      I heard the starting gun


      sigpic

      Comment


      • #4
        Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

        Code:
        WOOF, WOOF
        ONCE UPON A TIME...
                                                
                                                FADE IN:
        
        EXT. THE VILLAGE OF DENVOLK - DAY
        
        High above an eagle soars. He searches the village, some
        small farms, and in the distance the sea. Nothing living
        stirs below.
        
        EXT. STATUE - DAY
        
        An oversized copper statue stands high above the lone 
        cobblestone street, at one end of the village.  Although 
        green with age, it's well kept and surrounded by living red 
        roses. Around it are four fountains, all dry on this hot 
        summer day.
        
        The statue is simple and strange. A man and a wolf side by 
        side, nearly joined at the hip, stare into the distance.
        
        A YOUNG GIRL, eight, in a plain, white dress and sandals 
        arrives, carrying a ewer. She carefully pours small amounts 
        of water for each rose bush.
        
        She's startled and jumps back, when the eagle lands in one of 
        the fountains, stares at her and waits. She pours the 
        remaining water into the fountain and quickly leaves.
        
        The eagle drinks before the small amount of water disappears.
        
        A shaggy, large, old dog shows up and looks up at the 
        fountain, hopefully, his tongue lolling out. When the eagle 
        threatens the thirsty dog leaves.
        
        EXT. VILLAGE STREET - DAY
        
        The dog slowly walks down the street's hot cobblestones. Most 
        shops and homes are empty but one has an open door and he 
        sticks his head in and wags his tail, begging.
        
        He's hit with a flying metal cup, yips and scuttles away.
        
        INT. THE HOWLING TOAD INN - DAY
        
        Dark inside the only light from is from a single lantern and 
        the sunlight coming through the open door.  
        
        Two men, one on each side of the bar. On the customer side, 
        SILAS MARCHHAIR, sixties, dirty, loud and drunk. On the 
        other, the INNKEEPER, early fifties, large and vexed.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    It's the course, I tell ya. They
                    brung it down on us.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    There are no curse. It are
                    summer, it are hot -- people with
                    sense leave to cooler places
                    every --
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    The woofs brung it on us. Coursed
                    beasts that they are.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    They are founded to this village
                    -- why would they curse it?
        
        Before the drunk can answer, the old dog stands at the open
        door, his tail wagging -- hoping.
        Silas is enraged, grabs a chair and heads toward the door on
        unsteady legs.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    Get oot, filthy baste!
        
        Before he can get far the Innkeepers massive hand grabs the
        drunk's shoulder and turns him back to the bar.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    This are my inn. Remember that.
        
        Kneeling, the Innkeeper gently pets the dog's head, invites 
        him in and settles him in a dark, cool corner of the inn.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER (cont'd)
        Poor thing -- you are parched.
        
        For a moment he's gone, then returns with a large bowl of 
        water and a massive bone, with plenty of meat left on it.
        
        The dog nearly drinks the bowl dry, then starts working onthe 
        bone, as the Innkeeper smiles.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    Bad bizness, laying yer hand on a
                    costamer.
        
        The big man involuntarily clenches his fists then forces
        
        himself to relax.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    Worse are business, mistreating
                    an animal.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    They have to knew their pleece.
        
        Before the Innkeeper can respond two wolves lope through the 
        door and without hesitation go directly to bar and wait 
        patiently.
                                 
                                 SILAS (cont'd)
                    Spaken of filthy bastes.
        
        He speaks just loud enough to be heard.
        
        The larger wolf, KONSTITIN, stares at Silas with his deep, 
        blue eyes and growls, just loud enough to be heard.  His 
        mate, MARINA, with brilliant sea green eyes, does her best to 
        ignore both of them.
        
        The Innkeeper brings two strange mugs, sort of a cross 
        between a mug and bowl, filled with water. He nods and smiles 
        at the wolves and sets them down on the bar.
        
        The thirsty wolves stretch out of shape into an almost 
        sitting position, they lean over the bar and down suck down 
        the water, in a way that wolves can't.
        
        The Innkeeper grabs the mugs.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    I are be right back.
        
        Just as he sets the refilled bowls on the bar --
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    Coom wait on a maan and leave
                    that baste an his beech alone.
        
        Immediately Konstitin stands more upright and grows in size.  
        In a moment, before Silas can react, the wolves huge jaws are 
        around the man's head.
        
        The Innkeeper moves almost as fast. He puts his hand on the 
        wolf's shoulder.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    He are not worth it, Konstitin.
        
        Marina growls softly, pleading with her mate.
        The wolf doesn't move, keeping his jaw around the man's head.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER (cont'd)
                            (to Silas)
                    Apologize, you are idiot.
        
        After a long ten seconds Silas mumbles, insincerely.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    I'm soarry.
        
        The wolf doesn't move. In another ten seconds he growls
        
        again, this time much louder.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                            (to Silas)
                    Marina, apologize to her.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    And soarry to yer missus.
        
        Reluctantly the wolf backs away and drinks his second mug of 
        water. After the wolves transform back to normal four-legged 
        beasts, they head for the door.
        
        Marina stops at the door and nods to the Innkeeper, then 
        they're gone.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    One of these days I will not to
                    be able to stop him.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    That wood be a soarry daay fer
                    that woof.
                                 
                                 INNKEEPER
                    Anyway, they are the last of
                    their kind, in the south, they
                    are like to be done for, soon
                    enough.
                                 
                                 SILAS
                    They brung the course on us.
        
        The Innkeeper shakes his head and rolls his eyes. What's the 
        use?
        
        After he leaves the drunk looks out the open door.
                                 
                                 SILAS (cont'd)
                    Fooken daay woofs.
        
        EXT. FIELD - DAY
        
        The sun is low in the sky as the wolves lope toward the sea, 
        some distance away. Marina at a constant, steady pace, 
        Konstitin starts and stops, gets ahead and falls behind. He 
        ranges left and right. Never in a straight line.
        
        EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
        
        Just before the sun sets they arrive at the beach. A small 
        patch of sand surrounded by rocky cliffs. At one the edge of 
        the beach, nestled in an outcrop, is a small, white shack.
        
        Marina goes directly to it, and inside.
        
        Kostintin, still agitated, chases, growls and snaps at some 
        sea gulls, before he goes in.
        
        EXT. BEACH - LATER
        
        It's dark with about a billion stars in the sky. A gigantic 
        moon rises and brightens the beaches white sand.
        
        A young man, KONSTITIN, large, strong, barely older than a 
        teenager, wears simple, but well fitting clothes. Even in the 
        moonlight his blue eyes are obvious -- they glow.
        
        In bare feet he rushes to the sea and chases the sea gulls 
        away.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN
                    I told you to leave. Are you
                    deaf?
        
        He rants to himself.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    I should have torn his head off
                    and crapped down his throat.
        
        Even he grimaces at that image.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    I should have beaten him to a
                    pulp. Who does the he think he
                    is? I should have --
        
        The gulls start landing on the beach. He rushes at them
        again.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    I said leave!
        
        The gulls fly and land a little further down the beach and 
        land again.
        
        MARINA, stands outside the shed -- beautiful young woman, 
        with long hair and vivid green eyes that glow in the light of 
        the moon. She wears a simple white dress and smiles at him, 
        while he rants and raves.
        
        After kicking a lump of sand, with a rock inside, he curses, 
        before he notices Marina smiling.
        
        He limps, slightly, and goes to her.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    What are you so happy about? He
                    insulted you too.
        
        She just can't stop smiling and it frustrates him.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    I'm going to the village and I'm
                    going to --
        
        She kisses him and takes his hand in hers -- looks him in the 
        face and doesn't quit smiling.
                                 
                                 KONSTITIN (cont'd)
                    He deserves to die!
        
        She kisses him again, longer this time and then puts his hand 
        on her belly and holds it there.  He's thoroughly confused 
        and she laughs at the look on his face.
                                 
                                 MARINA
                    Puppies.
        
        Now he looks just, plain stupefied and she has mercy on him.
                                 
                                 MARINA (cont'd)
                    You're a papa.
        
        Finally he smiles and she laughs.
                                 
                                 MARINA (cont'd)
                    Not the last of our kind, after
                    all -- are we?
        
        Still at a loss for words. He hugs his wife, then bounds 
        away. In three leaps he's on a top of a cliff, silhouetted by 
        the moon.
        
        He howls loud and long.
        
        In two leaps she's up with him. Arm in arm they watch the 
        moon rise, the fog slithering up from the hot beach, and the 
        shooting stars.
        
        Even the stupid sea gulls look picturesque to him now.
                                                
                                                FADE OUT:
        THE END
        I heard the starting gun


        sigpic

        Comment


        • #5
          Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

          Mood Ring
          Code:
                                                  FADE IN:
          
          INT. UPSCALE RESTAURANT - EVENING
          
          The murmur of conversation, punctuated by occasional 
          laughter, envelopes the room. The sound of CLANKING plates 
          wafts from the kitchen as waitstaff maneuver between tables.
          
          At a corner table JULIE, 30’s, elegant, listens to WALTER, 
          30’s, scruffy.  Walter waves his arms as he explains.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      From the start I knew I wasn’t
                      going to get it. The way he was
                      looking at me, or not looking. You 
                      know what I mean.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Maybe if you had worn your suit.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Are you kidding? He could tell I
                      was a disrupter. So many of these
                      people just want the status quo.
                      No new ideas. No staying ahead of
                      the curve.
          
          Julie glances at her phone.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      I’m sure something will come up.
                      It’s only been two months.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Yeah. Sorry, too much about my
                      day.
          
          Walter lifts his wine glass.
                                   
                                   WALTER (cont'd)
                      Julie, to the best year of my life.
                      We’ve had our ups and downs, but,
                      as they say, looking at where we
                      are now, it was all worth it.
          
          Julie raises her glass.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      It certainly has been different.
                      To be honest, I never have been
                      with the same guy for a year.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      A little too picky?
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      My fault, their fault, life, I
                      don’t know.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      I appreciate that. And to tell you
                      the truth, this is the longest for
                      me, too. Well, not actually. Even
                      when it felt wrong, sometimes I had
                      trouble breaking it off, so things
                      went on a little.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Leaving a trail of broken hearts.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      The point is that you are the best
                      thing that has ever happened to me.
                      I can’t imagine life without you.
                      So ..
          
          Walter reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small, white box.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Walter, no. I’m not ready for
                      this.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Relax. It’s not a ring. Well, it
                      is, but not that kind of ring.
          
          WOMAN at a nearby table grabs arm of MAN.
                                   
                                   WOMAN
                      Look, he’s going to propose.
                                   
                                   MAN
                      There’s always some troublemaker.
          
          Woman holds up her phone, records Julie and Walter.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Go ahead, open it.
          Julie removes two rings from the box, examines them.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      I don’t understand. Are they
                      glass? They don’t look like gems.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      No, honey, there’s liquid behind
                      the glass. Mood rings. You know,
                      they change color when you wear
                      them.
          
          Blank stare from Julie.
                                   
                                   WALTER 
                      I remembered you talking about the
                      video with that guy who made you
                      laugh. I looked him up, and he had
                      a song about mood rings. So, there
                      you go. One for each of us.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Who are you talking about?
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      You know, Root Boy Slim.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Root Boy Slim? Who the hell is
                      Root Boy Slim?
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Well, actually, he’s dead now.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Do you mean Fatboy Slim?
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Uh.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Walter, this is amazingly stupid,
                      even for you.
          
          Other diners direct their attention to Walter and Julie.
                                   
                                   JULIE 
                      So tell me, who the hell is Root
                      Boy Slim?
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      People are staring.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      I don’t care.
          
          Julie addresses the restaurant audience.
                                   
                                   JULIE 
                      Has anybody ever heard of Root Boy
                      Slim?
          
          OLD MAN turns to OLD WOMAN.
                                   
                                   OLD MAN
                      What did she say?
                                   
                                   OLD WOMAN
                      I think she said Root Beer Split.
                                   
                                   OLD MAN
                      Root beer makes me burp.
          
          Julie stands.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      Again. Has anyone here ever heard
                      of Root Boy Slim?
          
          YOUNG MAN #1, seated with YOUNG MAN #2, raises his hand.  
          Young Man #2 slaps the chest of Young Man #1.
                                   
                                   YOUNG MAN #2
                      He hasn’t. He just wants attention.
                                   
                                   YOUNG MAN #1
                      You ruin everything, Bruce.
          
          Julie grabs the pepper mill and BANGS the mood rings into 
          pieces.
                                   
                                   JULIE
                      That’s what I think of your special
                      gift. I never want to see you
                      again.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      You broke my mood ring.
          
          Julie stomps away. Walter raises his hand.
                                   
                                   WALTER 
                      Check, please.
          
          INT. UPSCALE RESTAURANT - EVENING
          
          Walter slumps at his table as WAITRESS hands him his card.
                                   
                                   WAITRESS
                      Thank you for the generous tip, sir.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      It was the least I could do after
                      the scene I caused.
                                   
                                   WAITRESS
                      Don’t blame yourself. I like mood 
                      rings. My mother has one.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Really. My head’s really spinning
                      right now, but it might help if
                      later I had someone to talk with.
                      Is that something you could do for
                      me?
                                   
                                   WAITRESS
                      I don’t think anyone’s looking.
          
          Waitress scribbles on her note pad, hands the sheet to 
          Walter.
                                   
                                   WAITRESS 
                      I’m off this weekend.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      You don’t know how much I
                      appreciate this. You’re a good
                      person.
          
          INT. UPSCALE RESTAURANT - EVENING
          
          Walter catches himself in a mirror as he leaves. He spins, 
          throws his hands up and points at his reflection.
                                   
                                   WALTER
                      Mission accomplished. Gotta praise
                      you, dude.
          
          Walter notices the restaurant hostess staring.
                                   
                                   WALTER (cont'd)
                      My, what a cutie. Catch you later.
                                                  
                                                  FADE OUT:
          Last edited by Southern_land; 04-02-2019, 09:23 PM.
          I heard the starting gun


          sigpic

          Comment


          • #6
            Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

            Okey dokey folks, there they are. Five screenplays, not an onerous number to peruse and vote on.

            Please forgive any formatting errors, still coming to grips with FadeIn and had a couple of issues exporting initially.

            Have fun!

            And I'm already thing about SL's FGMS Writing Contest II and how I can work with the same concept but tighten it.
            I heard the starting gun


            sigpic

            Comment


            • #7
              Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

              Cool beans! So that's

              Last Stop
              THOTRS
              Brink of Insanity
              WOOF, WOOF
              Mood Ring

              [strikethrough]Does the 5th entry have a title?[/strikethrough]
              Last edited by dpaterso; 04-03-2019, 12:31 AM.
              Check out the entries in the Logline Throwdown thread in Writing Exercises forum
              Your votes wanted!

              Comment


              • #8
                Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                Caught me out, the fifth title and now added is mood ring
                I heard the starting gun


                sigpic

                Comment


                • #9
                  Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                  Sent votes, fun reads.
                  Check out the entries in the Logline Throwdown thread in Writing Exercises forum
                  Your votes wanted!

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                    My votes are sent.

                    Fun reads.


                    Great job Southern Land.


                    Hey! You might do it in your house, but in this house we don't lick our butts. -- Mother Teresa

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                      Voted. No comments yet.
                      "I just couldn't live in a world without me."

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                        Finally got my votes in. Sorry.
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER: I'm a wannabe, take whatever I write with a huge grain of salt.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                          7 votes in so far. I'll get my second read through done today and make mine.
                          I heard the starting gun


                          sigpic

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                            Originally posted by Southern_land View Post
                            Please forgive any formatting errors, still coming to grips with FadeIn and had a couple of issues exporting initially.
                            From FadeIn export to Fountain format, use Screenplain to (re)create a screenplay formatted PDF file and then use pdftotext -layout -nopgbrk samplefile.pdf samplefile.txt and voilĂ ! (Well, you also have to clear out the page numbers and extra spaces where page numbers were, but that can mostly be automated.)

                            (Yeah, I know, I'm a nerd.)
                            Last edited by Centos; 04-06-2019, 02:36 PM.
                            STANDARD DISCLAIMER: I'm a wannabe, take whatever I write with a huge grain of salt.

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                            • #15
                              Re: SL's FGMS Writing Contest (the entries)

                              Originally posted by Centos View Post
                              From FadeIn export to Fountain format, use Screenplain to (re)create a screenplay formatted PDF file and then use pdftotext -layout -nopgbrk samplefile.pdf samplefile.txt and voilĂ ! (Well, you also have to clear out the page numbers and extra spaces where page numbers were, but that can mostly be automated.)

                              (Yeah, I know, I'm a nerd.)
                              Yeah found that, after I'd finished I thought there must be an easier way...
                              I heard the starting gun


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