Showing posts with label Eric Script. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eric Script. Show all posts

Thursday, February 28, 2008

58. Perfect Date (cont.)-Eric






  • FADE IN

  • INT. SPOON'S DINER-NIGHT

  • Graham is planted in the front of the door with his hand still raised. He stares out in silent disbelief.

  • GLEN
  • We need to get the fuck out of here.

  • Glen leaps out of his seat and nudges Chassie. He beckons Jake. They run to the door, grabbing Graham and pulling him out with them.

  • EXT. SPOON'S DINER-NIGHT

  • They hurry into the hover car and drive off. Graham stares back at the crown Victoria, still billowing in flames.

  • Graham and Jake eye Christine's corpse, flinching back from it in disgust and horror. Jake yelps.

  • GRAHAM
  • What the fuck, is going on?

  • CHASSIE
  • Yeah, we need some answers!

  • JAKE
  • I knew something bad was gonna happen! We've got killer androids after us! Call the police already!

  • GLEN
  • Okay, we're not going to the police, they'd call the paddy wagon on us. And they won't be able to help anyway. I'm gonna try to get us someplace safe, after I get my gun.

  • Jake turns around and notices a red hover vehicle weaving in and out of traffic, following them.

  • JAKE
  • Someone's following us!

  • Glen looks in the rear view at the hover car. He swerves and makes a sharp turn down an alley. The red hover car follows.

  • Glen keeps driving only to notice the alley dead ends.

  • GLEN
  • Fuck!

  • JAKE
  • We're dead!

  • Glen looks up for an escape route, but it is too narrow, blocked by scaffolding.

  • The red hover slows and stops about 40 yards away, behind them. A man leans out the window with a scoped rifle, taking aim. He fires a few shots that bounce off the back.

  • Glen and the group scream and lower themselves in the hover. bullets continue to cling off of it.

  • An explosion is heard off screen, the group closes their eyes, anticipating death. Several seconds later there are no shots. Glen slowly rises and peeks out of the back.

  • The red hover is in flames. Zan is standing outside the black tinted hover which is off in the distance behind the red hover. A rocket launcher is slung over his shoulder. Zan quickly retreats, running back to the hover. They drive off.


Thursday, February 14, 2008

44. Lucky Night-Eric







  • FADE IN

  • INT. HOTEL BAR-NIGHT

  • Don, a forty-something man dressed in a business suit and jacket sits at a bar. His large, gold rings shimmer. Two women in black, low cut skirts hang on either side of him, laughing with him. The two kiss him on either side of the cheek and head to the ladies' room. Don pulls out a little vial, and dumps powder from it into the two womens' drinks. He leans his head back and smiles to himself, looking at his Rolex.

  • DON V.O.
  • This gig never gets old.

  • An attractive female bartender enters the room and walks behind the counter.

  • BARTENDER
  • Can I get you another drink?

  • DON
  • Sure.

  • She pours him a drink. The two women return from the rest room. They take their places at his side on the bar stools again. They sip their glasses of wine. Don drinks a rum and coke. They watch a band set up on a small stage nearby. The women look drowsy.

  • ANGELA
  • Well, I say we head to your room.

  • DON
  • You don't have to ask twice.

  • Don and the two women slowly stand up, flipping their jackets and purses over their shoulders. The women begin stumbling.

  • INT. HOTEL ROOM-MORNING

  • The two women lie on the floor, slumbering in puddles of their own vomit. They are wearing the same clothes as the previous night. Angela begins stirring. She lifts her head, and hoists herself in a half push-up, pausing at the pool of vomit below her. She gags, and vomits again. She looks over to Brea and shakes her. She finally wakes up, her head wobbling from side to side. She places a palm over her forehead, and holds her head down.

  • BREA
  • What the hell?

  • ANGELA
  • That was my first response.

  • They look around the room.

  • ANGELA
  • Yeah, my purse is gone too.

  • BREA
  • That bastard! I'm going to call the cops.

  • ANGELA
  • That's not going to do any good. He probably has fake ID.'s. They'll never catch him.

  • BREA
  • So what? They've got cameras in the hotel. And the bar.

  • ANGELA
  • Umm, you can go ahead. But what we do isn't exactly legal, you know.

  • BREA
  • He probably raped us, and you don't want to do anything about it!

  • Angela stands up, balancing herself with the dresser. She holds her head and moans.

  • ANGELA
  • Nothing that hasn't happened before.

  • Brea finally stands, steadying herself on the corner of the bed. Angela wipes her hand with her mouth and heads to the bathroom. Don is lying on the bathroom floor naked, in a puddle of his own vomit. He is handcuffed to a pipe under the sink. A strap-on dildo lies next to him on the floor. She slowly closes the door and walks out. She whispers to Brea.

  • ANGELA
  • Oh my god, he's in there!

  • Brea's mouth drops.

  • BREA
  • Let's get the hell out of here!

  • ANGELA
  • No, I don't think he did this. I think the same thing happened to him.

  • Brea pulls a small knife from a hidden pocket of her boot. She holds a finger at her lips, the universal sign for quiet. Angela grabs a lamp and they both slowly walk into the bathroom. They shake and kick him. He stirs.

  • DON
  • Huh? What the hell?

  • ANGELA
  • Yeah, that was my first reaction. Mind telling me what the hell is going on?

  • Don rolls over, covering himself. He sits up.

  • DON
  • No idea. I started getting dizzy at the bar and the last thing I remember is walking back here.

  • INT. AIRPLANE TERMINAL-MORNING

  • The bartender sits on a bench, counting rolls of money. She holds the money to her face and fans it. She pulls thr ROLEX out of Brea's fur purse, twirling a golden KEY in the other hand.

  • BARTENDER
  • Mmm, this gig never gets old.

  • FADE OUT


Sunday, January 20, 2008

20. Deviant - Eric

Note from Leslie: As unusual as it is for me to preface these scripts, I wanted to give this one an intro. "Deviant" really and truly bothered me when I read it. And it will probably bother many of you. Perhaps it simply exists for its shock value, but maybe it is necessary to be shocked and disturbed at times...because sometimes, that's what it takes to see the truth about ourselves.

Recommended listening/viewing for this script - Bobby Darin's "Mack the Knife"












FADE IN:

EXT. WOOD PATIO-DAY

Two men and a woman sit around in pajamas at a table. They are outside a large, three-story home at a back patio. The patio overlooks a lush valley. CHARLES watches Lolita on a portable DVD player; JENNY and TIM play cards, drink shots, and smoke cigarettes. A few half-empty pints of bourbon sit next to the DVD player. Bobby Darin’s Mack the Knife is playing faintly in the background.

CHARLES
I was thinking last night-

JENNY
Holy shit! Are you okay Chuck?

CHARLES
Very funny. No, I think I have a new fantasy.

TIM
Do tell, do tell.

Charle’s eyes open a bit wider and a grin materializes on his face. He leans over the table and lights a cigarette.

CHARLES
Okay. Well in this fantasy, I’m sitting at home.
I’m off work for the day and I’m bored to tears.
So what I do is I go through my wife’s chest of drawers and closet.
I try on some of her panties. Those red lacy ones, you know.
So I look in the mirror and I tell myself that’s not enough.
I go through her closet again and some other drawers,
and I find this see-through bustier. And it matches perfectly with the red panties.
I think they’re French cut, but whatever.

Point is, her mom was supposed to come over that day
and take the dog to the vet. And she has her own house key.
So I’m listening to some old, My Life with the Thrill Kill Cult.
It’s just jammed as loud as it’ll fucking go, you know.
I drop some Ecstacy, and save a little for the Pomeranian too.
The Ecstasy is really kicking in 45 minutes later, so me
and Pom-Pom are dancing around, just having a good time.
The music is so loud I don’t hear anyone coming.

Before she’s even through the door I know it’s the mother in law.
She swings the bedroom door all the way open, and
my mouth just drops to my balls. Because it’s not her.
It’s Hitler, with all the Nazi regalia but he’s wearing a giant strap on.

HILTER
Vee have soldiers outside! You are surrounded!
Either the chamber or dis (pointing to the giant strap on dildo).

JENNY
What color was the strap on?

CHARLES
What? Oh, it doesn’t fucking matter. It’s really Hitler there!
And this cat is armed to the teeth, and he’s giving me an option,
gas chamber or he pummels my poor ass. So I lean over the bed
and tell him to go ahead, make it quick.
He greases it up and it hurts like a bitch!

TIM
Yeah, sure it does.

Jenny giggles.

CHARLES
Fuck you, both of you.

JENNY
We’re just joking with you man. That’s a real normal, healthy fantasy.
Demetrius would be so freaked out right now. He’s so weird.

TIM
I still haven’t figured out why we hang out with him. He’s sick. He needs help.

CHARLES (stubbing out a cigarette)
Yeah. He does. I feel sorry for the cat. We can’t just throw him to the curb
because he’s deviant though. Anyway, you guys tell me what you’ve come up with.

JENNY (looking at Tim)
Do you want to tell him or should I?

TIM
Go for it.

Jenny places her hand of cards on the table and laughs in triumph. She points at the bottle of bourbon and tells Tim to take a drink. She lights a cigarette.

JENNY
Okay. It’s Halloween night-

CHARLES
Wait, why does it always have to be Halloween?

JENNY
Because it wouldn’t sound real if it were Christmas,
I dunno? Shut the fuck up and let me finish….

Tim and I are lying in bed. We’re both real depressed
because I just lost the baby. His mom just died a week
ago and she didn’t have insurance. We’re both jobless.
We’re going to have to live at a homeless shelter or under a bridge.
We’re basically fucked. So we decide to commit suicide together.

Now, his sister’s a nurse. And a hottie.

TIM
Good fucking grief, why does my sister always have to be in this?

JENNY
Please, shut up. Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah, she’s a nurse.
And she pilfers shit from work all the time.
She has a veritable pharmacy right in her Den.
She’s got suture stuff, pills fucking galore. She’s even got IV bags,
saline, antibiotics, morphine, fentanyl. You name it.
It looks like a WWII medic’s office.

Anyway, we get into the pills. We just tip the bottles.
Forty-five minutes later and I don’t know where the fuck I am.
Or what we’ve taken. Tim’s gone too. There’s empty pill bottles
all over the place and I look down at my jeans.
There’s a dark spot forming on them, I pissed myself.
Anyway, we decide to hook up the morphine drip to his arm.
It takes us a few minutes because we really don’t know what the hell we’re doing.
I jabbed him a few times, but we finally got it working.

When I know he’s ready, I go to the bathroom shelf.
There’s a few open razors and I grab one.
He holds out his wrist just like I’m giving him medicine, and I slash them.
Real quick, because I don’t want to cause him any more pain than necessary.
Once I do the other wrist he’s bleeding all over the place.

He pulls down his pants and he’s got a boner the size of Texas!
Then, he uses his blood as lubrication, and starts wanking it.
Real slow at first, because you know, he’s messed up from the IV
and he’s losing a lot of blood. So I help him.
And I’m covered with all of his blood too, ready to pass out myself.

Just as I’m about to pass out this ANGEL breaks through the door.
It looks like Mother Mary or one of those, you know
archetypal, female, religious figures. And this bitch is just glowing.
Ithought the Angel of Death was supposed to look grotesque,
but she’s beautiful. Has wings, the whole nine yards.
But it also looks like his sister. She floats over to the bed,
and helps me finish him. Just before he’s about to finish this
Angel grabs his mother’s URN and he unloads in it.
Then she starts mixing it around with a wood spoon,
stirring it up in his mom’s ashes. She dabs a little on our faces,
like some Indian war chief or something. I’m turning white,
gonna die any second and we’ve got goo all over our faces.
I think Tim’s already dead. Then she starts feeding us
this spunk mixture, and eating some of it herself.

Then she holds both of us, while I slowly die.

CHARLES
Wow, Jenny. I’m impressed. You’re getting healthier and healthier.
Now was this something both of you came up with?

JENNY
No-

TIM
Yes

Charles places his hands on their shoulders as the doorbell rings. They all look at each other. Finally Charles gets up from the table. A moment later He and Demetrius walk in.

Tim and Jenny greet him and he sits at the table.

DEMETRIUS
Hey guys. Before you say anything I already talked to the counselor.
And I admit I’ve got a problem.

JENNY
That’s awesome Deme!

DEMETRIUS
Yeah. I mean I always knew something was wrong.
I was the only person that didn’t have these normal fantasies.
I spent my whole life faking it. But I think everyone knew.
Even the principal of my elementary school.
He sent letters to my mother about his… concern.

TIM
Hey bud, we knew all along. We just didn’t care, man.

DEMTRIUS
I know, and that’s why I love you guys.
You stuck with your weirdo friend all this time.
Do you know how hard it is being less than one percent of the population?
I feel like an alien. But the counselor is working on that.
He said pretty soon, I can start having normal,
healthy fantasies like the rest of the population.

Charles pours Demetrius a drink and pours himself one too.

CHARLES
Cheers man!

The four embrace and begin playing cards, laughing together.

FADE TO BLACK.