Hello again! Time for a continued entry from the last one about Greg! Here we go!
EXT - PARK - DAY
Greg sits on a park bench eating an egg salad sandwich. Yes, it is an egg salad sandwich. He has kind of made a mess of it, and some egg is hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Several people pass by while he sits, a woman with a dog, a bicyclist, an old lady feeding grain to a host of following pigeons. Before he finishes, his friend Matt (the helpful best friend, common sense kinda guy) approaches from down the walk. Matt waves.
Greg: Hey man, thanks for coming.
Matt: No problem, but why'd you wanna meet in the park? You never go to the park.
Greg: I don't know, I thought the open space would be nice, no places to hide . . .
Matt: Right . . . what are you afraid I'd just out and scare ya?!
Greg (chuckling nervously): He he, no . . . at least not you. Have a seat, man.
(Matt sits down on the bench opposite Greg and keeps his eyes on his friend. Greg looks back at his sandwich and takes a bite. Awkward silence.)
Matt: So . . . what's up? You wanted to tell me something . . . ?
Greg: Yeah, umm, okay. Umm, you may think I'm crazy when I say this, but . . . just hear me out. Don't laugh.
Matt: Spill it dude, I'm waiting, c'mon.
Greg: Okay, okay . . . my future self has somehow come back through time and is talking to me.
(Matt stares at Greg. A smile slowly creeps on his face, and then he can't help but burst out laughing.)
Greg: Hey, man! I said don't laugh I'm being serious!
Matt (laughing): Are you sure you're not going to say "surprise I fooled you!"
Greg: No, no, this is 100% serious. C'mon, listen.
Matt (controlling the laughter): Okay, I've got it under control. Continue . . .
(Greg checks in with Matt to make sure he's really going to listen. Then continues.)
Greg: Yeah, he . . . well I mean, I, am like popping out of pantries and telling me, myself, things about the future.
Matt: What kind of things? Like when North Korea plans to start a nuclear war?
Greg: No, nothing like that. It's like totally insignificant stuff, like "make sure you brush your teeth this morning or you'll get a cavity" . . . it doesn't make any sense. And it's totally random.
Matt: Huh, that's weird dude. Did he tell you anything true? Like did you listen to yourself and find out that it happened?
Greg: Yeah, that's the creepy thing. Like, the other night, I was doing homework, and he, I mean I, told myself not to worry about finishing it . . . Well, I stayed up all night anyway, get to school, teacher's sick. He was right.
Matt: Well, maybe it's leading to something bigger, maybe he'll tell you something that you really need to hear.
Greg: Maybe.
Matt: So . . . can I meet this future version of yourself, maybe I can hide and he'll come out when he thinks your alone -
Greg: No! No, you can't do that, I said if someone saw both of me together, like time and space would collapse and we would be dead or something. You'll kill me if you do that.
Matt: That kinda sounds like a lie to keep this whole thing a secret . . .
Greg: Well, it's not. Okay, it isn't. It's just what he told me.
Matt(getting up): All right, dude, whatever, but just keep me posted if any other weird things happen.
Greg: Okay as long as you keep a straight face.
Matt: I am your straight man.
(Awkward silence)
Matt: Later.
Greg: Bye.
There we go, another section of this evolving story down! Hope you enjoyed it! We'll see where it takes us when I write more! Stay tuned!
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm Christopher Walken! And I'm here to write another blog entry . . . bear with me. This next idea I am spawning out is an idea for a screen play, bases on a thought I had one day, and a thought many people probably have. Only not the way they would have it ;). Here we go:
INT - KITCHEN - DAY
Greg sits at the kitchen table hunching over a bowl of Cap'n Crunch while reading the comics in the newspaper. The only sounds are the crunch of the cereal and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Suddenly a knock is heard coming from inside the pantry door. Greg jumps at the sound, scared, then suspicious and creeps to the door with cereal in hand.
INT - PANTRY - DAY
Only darkness behind the door, something moves and the knocking continues sharply. The door suddenly flies open and we are staring at Greg who has fallen to the floor in shock spilling cereal everywhere.
INT - KITCHEN - DAY
Greg is looking up at himself, a slightly older, scruffier version of himself standing in the pantry doorway staring right back.
GREG: Who the - hell are you?!
PANTRY GREG: I'm you, man. I know this may seem a bit odd or freaky. But I'm your future self, come back to warn you of the mistakes you haven't made yet.
GREG: Mom!
FUTURE GREG: Don't let anyone else see me! If they see both of us together, the paradigm of the space-time continueum will collapse and we will both cease to exist.
GREG: This is, umm . . .bad milk, that's what this is . . .
FUTURE GREG: No. But it's related to that, you'll see. That turkey sandwich you were gonna eat for lunch, don't do it. Bad turkey. That's all I can say for now, good luck.
Future Greg drifts backwards into the pantry and pulls the door closed. Greg calls after him -
GREG: Hey, wait! That's it? That's what you had to tell me?
But Future Greg is gone.
INT - GREG's ROOM - NIGHT
Greg sits at his desk looking over some homework, his eyes search the pages as he tries to solve his math homework. A rustle is heard from his closet and Future Greg suddenly appears between the sliding doors. Greg falls out of his chair in shock and his papers fly around the room.
FUTURE GREG: Don't bother with the homework, teacher's gonna be sick tomorrow. You'll have the weekend. Take it easy. Good luck.
Future Greg drifts back into the closet the doors sliding closed with him.
GREG: Hey, you can't just pop in like that! Come back! That's it?! That's all I get from the future?!
Greg's mom hears his shouting and can be heard out in the hall -
GREG'S MOM: Honey, everything OK?
GREG: Uh, yeah Mom. It's nothing! Everything is just . . . fine.
Greg looks at the mess around him, then back at the closet and shakes his head.
That's all I'm writing in this for now! I hope to expand it a bit more, we'll see if it develops!
INT - KITCHEN - DAY
Greg sits at the kitchen table hunching over a bowl of Cap'n Crunch while reading the comics in the newspaper. The only sounds are the crunch of the cereal and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Suddenly a knock is heard coming from inside the pantry door. Greg jumps at the sound, scared, then suspicious and creeps to the door with cereal in hand.
INT - PANTRY - DAY
Only darkness behind the door, something moves and the knocking continues sharply. The door suddenly flies open and we are staring at Greg who has fallen to the floor in shock spilling cereal everywhere.
INT - KITCHEN - DAY
Greg is looking up at himself, a slightly older, scruffier version of himself standing in the pantry doorway staring right back.
GREG: Who the - hell are you?!
PANTRY GREG: I'm you, man. I know this may seem a bit odd or freaky. But I'm your future self, come back to warn you of the mistakes you haven't made yet.
GREG: Mom!
FUTURE GREG: Don't let anyone else see me! If they see both of us together, the paradigm of the space-time continueum will collapse and we will both cease to exist.
GREG: This is, umm . . .bad milk, that's what this is . . .
FUTURE GREG: No. But it's related to that, you'll see. That turkey sandwich you were gonna eat for lunch, don't do it. Bad turkey. That's all I can say for now, good luck.
Future Greg drifts backwards into the pantry and pulls the door closed. Greg calls after him -
GREG: Hey, wait! That's it? That's what you had to tell me?
But Future Greg is gone.
INT - GREG's ROOM - NIGHT
Greg sits at his desk looking over some homework, his eyes search the pages as he tries to solve his math homework. A rustle is heard from his closet and Future Greg suddenly appears between the sliding doors. Greg falls out of his chair in shock and his papers fly around the room.
FUTURE GREG: Don't bother with the homework, teacher's gonna be sick tomorrow. You'll have the weekend. Take it easy. Good luck.
Future Greg drifts back into the closet the doors sliding closed with him.
GREG: Hey, you can't just pop in like that! Come back! That's it?! That's all I get from the future?!
Greg's mom hears his shouting and can be heard out in the hall -
GREG'S MOM: Honey, everything OK?
GREG: Uh, yeah Mom. It's nothing! Everything is just . . . fine.
Greg looks at the mess around him, then back at the closet and shakes his head.
That's all I'm writing in this for now! I hope to expand it a bit more, we'll see if it develops!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Hello again, this is another random entry spewing forth from the craziness of my mind. I am going to attempt to make something out of a little fragment of something I've written before and we'll see where it goes :).
This script would be more appropriate as a screenplay and I'm writing it as such:
A dark road in the middle of the night. Occasional street lamps light the way and there is the occasion stop light. DARREN is driving his car home after a date. He's exciting and driving a bit fast.
(DARREN is cautious and takes quick glances up as he texts)
TEXT from DARREN to KATHY: Hey tonight was really fun, we should do it -
(DARREN looks up quickly and almost returns to the phone when he sees someone crossing the road in front of him. He slams on the break, but it's too late and the body makes a load thud as it hits bumper, windshield, and rolls off into the street. There is only the hum of the engine and glow of the lights, everything else remains still.)
(DARREN is frozen inside of the car, his cell phone is down by his feet. He slowly get out of the car taking his phone with him and moves around to the side where the body lays. The body is bloody and motionless, but it looks like they are breathing. DARREN fumbles at his phone punching numbers, not knowing exactly what to do.)
9-1-1 OPERATOR:
9-1-1 emergency.
DARREN
Hello? Um, yes . . . I have an emergency - I was driving and uh -
9-1-1 OPERATOR:
Were you in an accident, sir?
DARREN
No, no, this guy - I saw this guy in the middle of the road so I stopped, it looks like a hit and run or something . . .
9-1-1 Operator
Did you see the accident?
DARREN
No - I didn't see anything happen I just, I just got here and found this guy lying in the road he's not moving and there's blood -
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir, I need you to call down. Just give me the address where you are and we will send an ambulance right away.
DARREN
Uh, I'm at uh, 250 East 600 something South, just south of Jackson's Carwash. I'm sorry, but I can't stay -
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir, I need you to stay at the scene to answer questions when the officers arrive and I need your name please.
DARREN
No, I'm really sorry I can't stay - I have uh family emergency - my uhh sister fell. Well she didn't just fall she has medical issues - I gotta go - Bye.
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir -
(DARREN hangs up the phone quickly and stares at the body again, almost unable to pull his gaze from it and in awe of what just happened.)
DARREN
(talking to himself)
I hung up. I just hung up on 9-1-1, I just hung up on 9-1-1. I can't believe I did that. I just hit a guy in the middle of the road and I lied 9-1-1.
(DARREN staggers over to the body. He pulls it over to the side of the road out of the way and then returns to his car, gets in, still in a daze, and drives away.)
INTERIOR: Hospital. The next day. DARREN paces nervously around the waiting area of the hospital. Finally he strikes up the courage to talk to the receptionist.
Okay, well that's all on this one for now, suckas! Hope you enjoyed that random taste . . . I think the convo could be better but I'll have to work on it some more.
This script would be more appropriate as a screenplay and I'm writing it as such:
A dark road in the middle of the night. Occasional street lamps light the way and there is the occasion stop light. DARREN is driving his car home after a date. He's exciting and driving a bit fast.
(DARREN is cautious and takes quick glances up as he texts)
TEXT from DARREN to KATHY: Hey tonight was really fun, we should do it -
(DARREN looks up quickly and almost returns to the phone when he sees someone crossing the road in front of him. He slams on the break, but it's too late and the body makes a load thud as it hits bumper, windshield, and rolls off into the street. There is only the hum of the engine and glow of the lights, everything else remains still.)
(DARREN is frozen inside of the car, his cell phone is down by his feet. He slowly get out of the car taking his phone with him and moves around to the side where the body lays. The body is bloody and motionless, but it looks like they are breathing. DARREN fumbles at his phone punching numbers, not knowing exactly what to do.)
9-1-1 OPERATOR:
9-1-1 emergency.
DARREN
Hello? Um, yes . . . I have an emergency - I was driving and uh -
9-1-1 OPERATOR:
Were you in an accident, sir?
DARREN
No, no, this guy - I saw this guy in the middle of the road so I stopped, it looks like a hit and run or something . . .
9-1-1 Operator
Did you see the accident?
DARREN
No - I didn't see anything happen I just, I just got here and found this guy lying in the road he's not moving and there's blood -
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir, I need you to call down. Just give me the address where you are and we will send an ambulance right away.
DARREN
Uh, I'm at uh, 250 East 600 something South, just south of Jackson's Carwash. I'm sorry, but I can't stay -
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir, I need you to stay at the scene to answer questions when the officers arrive and I need your name please.
DARREN
No, I'm really sorry I can't stay - I have uh family emergency - my uhh sister fell. Well she didn't just fall she has medical issues - I gotta go - Bye.
9-1-1 OPERATOR
Sir -
(DARREN hangs up the phone quickly and stares at the body again, almost unable to pull his gaze from it and in awe of what just happened.)
DARREN
(talking to himself)
I hung up. I just hung up on 9-1-1, I just hung up on 9-1-1. I can't believe I did that. I just hit a guy in the middle of the road and I lied 9-1-1.
(DARREN staggers over to the body. He pulls it over to the side of the road out of the way and then returns to his car, gets in, still in a daze, and drives away.)
INTERIOR: Hospital. The next day. DARREN paces nervously around the waiting area of the hospital. Finally he strikes up the courage to talk to the receptionist.
Okay, well that's all on this one for now, suckas! Hope you enjoyed that random taste . . . I think the convo could be better but I'll have to work on it some more.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
New Drama Script Idea
So I have an idea for another drama to write, spawned out of an exercise we've done in my writing class. Right now in my mind it's a drama, but who knows it may turn into a comedy. Basically what I'm writing is on the spot or made up of tiny pieces I've already written.
Scene 1
(Lights up. Living Room and kitchen of a small apartment. The kitchen area blends right into the living area where STACY sits doing a crossword puzzle at the coffee table. TERRY stands in the kitchen dicing vegetables on a cutting board, on the island. A pot of bubbling liquid is on the burner behind him. Only the sound of the knife and the clock on the wall is heard.)
TERRY
I have to go to Detroit tomorrow.
STACY
Why?
TERRY
I'll be gone for the next two days. After tonight, there should be enough left overs for dinner for that time.
(Long silence)
STACY
I didn't know that.
TERRY
Didn't know what - that I'll be gone for two days or that there will be enough for left overs?
STACY
You never tell me you're going until last minute.
TERRY
I swear I told you last week something about it . . .
STACY
No, you never tell me, it's always like this.
TERRY
Well you can call my boss to confirm the trip if you're worried it's not legitimate this time.
STACY
Can you not bring that up, please? I'd like to finish this puzzle with a little sanity.
TERRY
Well, maybe you could put down the puzzle for a minute and could help me in here? It might be nice to do something together before I leave . . .
STACY
What is that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me?
TERRY
I'm not saying anything.
STACY
Yes, you are, you don't want to blame yourself so you're throwing it on me?
TERRY
(trying to cool the situation)
We've already talked about this - we don't need to talk about it again.
STACY
Do you want me to call my lawyer, maybe you can talk to him about it!
TERRY
(angry now)
Why am I even in here making this dinner for you! For US! Is this just another futile attempt for me to put our lives back together - am I just wasting my time and energy for nothing?
STACY
Oh, don't even -
TERRY
Damn it, Stacy! You know what? We don't need these vegetables, we don't!
(TERRY begins knocking the vegetables off the cutting board and throwing them around the room.)
There just a representation of all the times we've wasted so why don't we just let the dog eat 'em!
(This is all I'm writing in this for now. I think the wording on the end here will change, but this is still of course right in the middle of the scene :). I love leaving you hanging :P.)
Scene 1
(Lights up. Living Room and kitchen of a small apartment. The kitchen area blends right into the living area where STACY sits doing a crossword puzzle at the coffee table. TERRY stands in the kitchen dicing vegetables on a cutting board, on the island. A pot of bubbling liquid is on the burner behind him. Only the sound of the knife and the clock on the wall is heard.)
TERRY
I have to go to Detroit tomorrow.
STACY
Why?
TERRY
I'll be gone for the next two days. After tonight, there should be enough left overs for dinner for that time.
(Long silence)
STACY
I didn't know that.
TERRY
Didn't know what - that I'll be gone for two days or that there will be enough for left overs?
STACY
You never tell me you're going until last minute.
TERRY
I swear I told you last week something about it . . .
STACY
No, you never tell me, it's always like this.
TERRY
Well you can call my boss to confirm the trip if you're worried it's not legitimate this time.
STACY
Can you not bring that up, please? I'd like to finish this puzzle with a little sanity.
TERRY
Well, maybe you could put down the puzzle for a minute and could help me in here? It might be nice to do something together before I leave . . .
STACY
What is that supposed to mean? Are you blaming me?
TERRY
I'm not saying anything.
STACY
Yes, you are, you don't want to blame yourself so you're throwing it on me?
TERRY
(trying to cool the situation)
We've already talked about this - we don't need to talk about it again.
STACY
Do you want me to call my lawyer, maybe you can talk to him about it!
TERRY
(angry now)
Why am I even in here making this dinner for you! For US! Is this just another futile attempt for me to put our lives back together - am I just wasting my time and energy for nothing?
STACY
Oh, don't even -
TERRY
Damn it, Stacy! You know what? We don't need these vegetables, we don't!
(TERRY begins knocking the vegetables off the cutting board and throwing them around the room.)
There just a representation of all the times we've wasted so why don't we just let the dog eat 'em!
(This is all I'm writing in this for now. I think the wording on the end here will change, but this is still of course right in the middle of the scene :). I love leaving you hanging :P.)
Monday, February 16, 2009
10 minute drama COMPLETE!
I finished writing my 10-minute drama, and if you're lucky I'll post it here shortly :).
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Okay, so I'm having trouble creating dialogue in this scene I'm writing, more so on the girl's part and I think part of the problem is I have not broken her down into the details of have him. So I'm about to do the detail exercise again with her and hopefully this will get my creative juices flowing.
Name: Rachel
Sex: F
Height/Weight: 5'6"/150 lbs.
Physical: Unfit, slightly overweight
Age: 27
Religion: Christian (inactive)
Education: Business school
Birthplace: Grand Rapids, MI
Childhood home: Holland, MI
Marital Status: Single
Favorite food: Pizza
Hobbies: Playing video games, watching movies, playing with her cats, graphic designing
Fears: Spiders, snakes, arachnids, rodents, dark places
Pet Peeves: Public humiliation, strictness
Criminal Record: parking violation, speeding ticket - nothing serious
Job: Computer software office assistant
Friends: Other co-workers, a few best friends from high school
Pets: two cats
Habits: Biting nails, restless behavior, drinking coffee
That's all I have for her, I hope that helps me shape the conversation, although it seems to be taking the scene a different way than I had originally thought . . . my biggest problem right now is figuring out WHY they are in the office together this late at work. I keep thinking its involving him giving her a promotion or semi-interviewing her for one, but I don't know if I like that enough. I'm going to try to babble out some more stuff for the beginning of the scene.
*Lights up. GUY is sitting at the desk in his office looking over some papers. A knock at his door.*
GUY: Come in.
*RACHEL peeks her head in at first, then opens the door and comes in - she has two cups of coffee in her hands.
RACHEL: Your coffee, sir.
GUY: Please, call me Guy. We're all friends here. You can just set it there by the phone.
*Rachel sets down the coffee and turns to leave.
GUY: Rachel, would you like to join me for a minute?
*She stops and turns around surprised.
RACHEL: Uhh, sure.
GUY: Please close the door behind you.
RACHEL: Oh, yes.
*She quickly shuts the door behind her and offers a quick smile.
GUY: Please, sit down, relax. Forget convention for a few minutes. It's always nice to have a bit of R&R after a long day.
RACHEL: Okay.
*She shyly sits down and offers another smile
GUY: You know what, it's my Uncle's birthday today, let's celebrate. Do you like Scotch?
*GUY opens one of his drawers and pulls out two crystal glasses and a flask. He begins to pour the scotch into the two glasses
GUY: Do you take ice?
RACHEL: Oh, no thanks.
GUY: (as he hands her a glass) I always keep this handy for special occasions. Cheers.
*Long silence as they both drink
*Note: as the conversation continues, he keeps giving her more as she finishes, but he doesn't take more for himself. Also, it is important that she has limited eye contact with him.
GUY: You know, I've been looking over some files and time cards lately, and I noticed you've been taking extra long breaks. Also, you have taken three sick days in the last month, now . . .
*Rachel begins to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop her
GUY: This isn't a matter of excuses, it's a matter of efficiency. It's the matter of how we can both best do our jobs. You're a nice girl, Rachel, a pretty girl, but I didn't ask you here so I could fire you, so relax . . . by the way, I went fishing last weekend and I have some filleting to do, you don't mind if I do that while we talk?
RACHEL: No, not at all.
*From a cooler at the side of his desk, GUY pulls out a large fish and a fillet knife. He puts down a cutting board on his desk before he begins to work at the fish.
This next section is added only because I thought of it, and didn't want to forget it, but it is not directly connected to this section:
GUY: The wonderful thing about a filet knife is it's so . . . precise. So clean. Like it knows what it wants and knows how to get it done. It, of course, doesn't think, it just does what it needs to do.
I know I'm leaving it hanging, but that's it for now, perhaps the next entry will be the entire work pieced together and up as a first draft!
Name: Rachel
Sex: F
Height/Weight: 5'6"/150 lbs.
Physical: Unfit, slightly overweight
Age: 27
Religion: Christian (inactive)
Education: Business school
Birthplace: Grand Rapids, MI
Childhood home: Holland, MI
Marital Status: Single
Favorite food: Pizza
Hobbies: Playing video games, watching movies, playing with her cats, graphic designing
Fears: Spiders, snakes, arachnids, rodents, dark places
Pet Peeves: Public humiliation, strictness
Criminal Record: parking violation, speeding ticket - nothing serious
Job: Computer software office assistant
Friends: Other co-workers, a few best friends from high school
Pets: two cats
Habits: Biting nails, restless behavior, drinking coffee
That's all I have for her, I hope that helps me shape the conversation, although it seems to be taking the scene a different way than I had originally thought . . . my biggest problem right now is figuring out WHY they are in the office together this late at work. I keep thinking its involving him giving her a promotion or semi-interviewing her for one, but I don't know if I like that enough. I'm going to try to babble out some more stuff for the beginning of the scene.
*Lights up. GUY is sitting at the desk in his office looking over some papers. A knock at his door.*
GUY: Come in.
*RACHEL peeks her head in at first, then opens the door and comes in - she has two cups of coffee in her hands.
RACHEL: Your coffee, sir.
GUY: Please, call me Guy. We're all friends here. You can just set it there by the phone.
*Rachel sets down the coffee and turns to leave.
GUY: Rachel, would you like to join me for a minute?
*She stops and turns around surprised.
RACHEL: Uhh, sure.
GUY: Please close the door behind you.
RACHEL: Oh, yes.
*She quickly shuts the door behind her and offers a quick smile.
GUY: Please, sit down, relax. Forget convention for a few minutes. It's always nice to have a bit of R&R after a long day.
RACHEL: Okay.
*She shyly sits down and offers another smile
GUY: You know what, it's my Uncle's birthday today, let's celebrate. Do you like Scotch?
*GUY opens one of his drawers and pulls out two crystal glasses and a flask. He begins to pour the scotch into the two glasses
GUY: Do you take ice?
RACHEL: Oh, no thanks.
GUY: (as he hands her a glass) I always keep this handy for special occasions. Cheers.
*Long silence as they both drink
*Note: as the conversation continues, he keeps giving her more as she finishes, but he doesn't take more for himself. Also, it is important that she has limited eye contact with him.
GUY: You know, I've been looking over some files and time cards lately, and I noticed you've been taking extra long breaks. Also, you have taken three sick days in the last month, now . . .
*Rachel begins to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop her
GUY: This isn't a matter of excuses, it's a matter of efficiency. It's the matter of how we can both best do our jobs. You're a nice girl, Rachel, a pretty girl, but I didn't ask you here so I could fire you, so relax . . . by the way, I went fishing last weekend and I have some filleting to do, you don't mind if I do that while we talk?
RACHEL: No, not at all.
*From a cooler at the side of his desk, GUY pulls out a large fish and a fillet knife. He puts down a cutting board on his desk before he begins to work at the fish.
This next section is added only because I thought of it, and didn't want to forget it, but it is not directly connected to this section:
GUY: The wonderful thing about a filet knife is it's so . . . precise. So clean. Like it knows what it wants and knows how to get it done. It, of course, doesn't think, it just does what it needs to do.
I know I'm leaving it hanging, but that's it for now, perhaps the next entry will be the entire work pieced together and up as a first draft!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Ok, what I am about to write going to purely flow from my mind as I write and is not edited or formed up in any kind of way. Hopefully just spewing this out will help me shape it for the future. This will be a part of a drama that I may turn into a 10-minute play and is a follow-up to the last post :). I think I may also be starting mid-conversation to help me get the flow of it.
Scene: An office building. Guy's office. Night. The glass windows of his office are shuttered. Rachel (a co-worker) sits on the arm of the chair in front of his desk. Guy sits back in his chair behind the desk sipping black coffee. (Note: if this coffee were to be spilled it would strictly need to be black - he drinks it no other way.) The door to the office is closed.
GUY: Your buttons are . . . misaligned.
RACHEL: Yeah, I know, I like it like that.
*Guy coughs*
GUY: So Rachel . . . if you were going to kill someone, how would you do it?
RACHEL: Why would I even be thinking about that?
GUY: I'm sure at one time or another you've been angry enough to . . . kill someone. Or at least thought about it. So how would you do it?
RACHEL: Um, well . . . I suppose I'd do it like in the movies! Hack 'em into a bunch of pieces and bury them in the walls! Ooooo! . . . (Guy stares at her) Are you serious?!
GUY: Sure, why not. If we're just talking about it.
RACHEL: I guess . . . (long silence) . . . how about poisoning them? Like in their drink or something. Then you don't have a finger pointing at you.
GUY: Yes, yes. That's not bad. Clean. No one to blame.
RACHEL: Why do you want to talk about this anyway?
GUY: I'm curious. I find it fascinating the lengths that some people will go to kill someone . . . when it can be a relatively simple thing.
RACHEL: I don't think killing anybody is simple.
GUY: Just - you're thinking about it the wrong way. You have to look at the situation from a distance and observe it with a clear mind. When you break it down, it really can be quite simple. Killing.
(WARNING: spoiler ahead, I'm jumping to this because this part of the dialogue popped into my head.)
*GUY moves toward the office door and locks it quietly*
GUY: What time is it?
RACHEL: 9:06 . . .
GUY: That means that the last person to clock out would have done so 6 minutes ago . . . excluding you and I, of course.
RACHEL: Well, then, I guess that means we better leave - *she stands and grabs her coat*
GUY: Wait.
*Guy moves to his office closet and pulls out a clear plastic object that looks like some body suit.*
GUY: This is a clothing protector - used sometimes by painters so they don't get paint on their clothes.
*He puts in on over his suit*
GUY: How does it look?
RACHEL: Dandy. If there's nothing else I'd like to -
GUY: (interrupting) There was something you said earlier, about hacking someone to pieces and hiding them in the walls. While that does seem a bit carried away, I do like the knife method. I have a cleaver in my drawer. Suppose I kill you with it, right now? Or maybe strangle you with your own coat?
RACHEL: (laughing uncertainly) Ok, now you're scaring me. Can you open the door so I can leave?
GUY: It would probably be best if you don't scream . . . though it might be entertaining.
*Guy opens the drawer and pulls out a butcher's cleaver*
GUY: I'll try not to make a mess.
*Lights fade to black
THE END
Well, there are some pieces of my drama! And the ending as well. Hope you found it . . . interesting :).
Scene: An office building. Guy's office. Night. The glass windows of his office are shuttered. Rachel (a co-worker) sits on the arm of the chair in front of his desk. Guy sits back in his chair behind the desk sipping black coffee. (Note: if this coffee were to be spilled it would strictly need to be black - he drinks it no other way.) The door to the office is closed.
GUY: Your buttons are . . . misaligned.
RACHEL: Yeah, I know, I like it like that.
*Guy coughs*
GUY: So Rachel . . . if you were going to kill someone, how would you do it?
RACHEL: Why would I even be thinking about that?
GUY: I'm sure at one time or another you've been angry enough to . . . kill someone. Or at least thought about it. So how would you do it?
RACHEL: Um, well . . . I suppose I'd do it like in the movies! Hack 'em into a bunch of pieces and bury them in the walls! Ooooo! . . . (Guy stares at her) Are you serious?!
GUY: Sure, why not. If we're just talking about it.
RACHEL: I guess . . . (long silence) . . . how about poisoning them? Like in their drink or something. Then you don't have a finger pointing at you.
GUY: Yes, yes. That's not bad. Clean. No one to blame.
RACHEL: Why do you want to talk about this anyway?
GUY: I'm curious. I find it fascinating the lengths that some people will go to kill someone . . . when it can be a relatively simple thing.
RACHEL: I don't think killing anybody is simple.
GUY: Just - you're thinking about it the wrong way. You have to look at the situation from a distance and observe it with a clear mind. When you break it down, it really can be quite simple. Killing.
(WARNING: spoiler ahead, I'm jumping to this because this part of the dialogue popped into my head.)
*GUY moves toward the office door and locks it quietly*
GUY: What time is it?
RACHEL: 9:06 . . .
GUY: That means that the last person to clock out would have done so 6 minutes ago . . . excluding you and I, of course.
RACHEL: Well, then, I guess that means we better leave - *she stands and grabs her coat*
GUY: Wait.
*Guy moves to his office closet and pulls out a clear plastic object that looks like some body suit.*
GUY: This is a clothing protector - used sometimes by painters so they don't get paint on their clothes.
*He puts in on over his suit*
GUY: How does it look?
RACHEL: Dandy. If there's nothing else I'd like to -
GUY: (interrupting) There was something you said earlier, about hacking someone to pieces and hiding them in the walls. While that does seem a bit carried away, I do like the knife method. I have a cleaver in my drawer. Suppose I kill you with it, right now? Or maybe strangle you with your own coat?
RACHEL: (laughing uncertainly) Ok, now you're scaring me. Can you open the door so I can leave?
GUY: It would probably be best if you don't scream . . . though it might be entertaining.
*Guy opens the drawer and pulls out a butcher's cleaver*
GUY: I'll try not to make a mess.
*Lights fade to black
THE END
Well, there are some pieces of my drama! And the ending as well. Hope you found it . . . interesting :).
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