This is for anyone who wants to throw in story ideas, with the eventual idea of evolving a group project, maybe even a team writing project.
I have no idea how copyright works. I think technically it resides with the people who made the comment, but I wouldn’t count on it. I advise you all to consider whatever you put up here as entering the public arena.
Remember we are a PG site, and have fun!
How To Write A Screenplay
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Excellent idea (once again) Philip.
With copyright…From what I can gather (based on my media law studies), copyright based on collaboration resides with all people involved, although they usually sign an agreement before beginning. Not sure with the internet, but I think your comment about things “entering the public arena” once they are posted is close to a written agreement. Not sure if that was helpful at all, but I did intend it to be (I’ve been writing academic essays for 12 hours).
amz said
“Not sure with the internet, but I think your comment about things “entering the public arena” once they are posted is close to a written agreement.”
For some reason I can’t figure what you mean by that.
Could you explain?
This could be fun. I once read about an exercise they used for creating stories with a group in a UCLA graduate writing program. You start with a visually charged image. Then each person adds to the story with the only caveat being that you must move the story forward by describing what we see or hear. No backstory, character intentions or hidden emotions. Only what can be seen on the screen. Someone acts as moderator and they have the final decision on what is added and keeps track of the story. Any takers?
I’ll start if any one interested. Here’s an opening image…
A young women hobbles down a city street in the rain, wearing only one high heel shoe. She’s dressed in a fancy gown and holds her missing shoe in her hand. It’s minus the heel.
Deirdre – “For some reason I can’t figure what you mean by that. Could you explain?”
Sorry, it was a long day yesterday. What I meant is that I think Philip saying anything we post will be in the public arena means that no one specific person would hold copyright for an idea. Although I’m not sure because the internet and law is a really grey area.
Gary – I think I know what your talking about. Let me know if the following is on track.
…
The young woman’s hair looks as though it was done up nicely before, but is messy now. As she continues to walk, a car drives past close to the gutter. She looks up and watches as the brake lights come on.
(love it)
The car slows & stops, a well-dressed young man in the backseat leans out the window and asks if she needs a lift.
A middle-aged woman is driving, smoking a cigarette, a dog on her lap.
The young woman runs to the car and gets in the back seat. She is saturated and shivering from the rain.
The middle-aged woman looks at her from the rearview mirror with obvious distaste. The young woman pretends not to notice and smiles nervously.
A young women hobbles down a city street in the rain, wearing only one high heel shoe. She’s dressed in a fancy gown and holds her missing shoe in her hand. It’s minus the heel.
The young woman’s hair looks as though it was done up nicely before, but is messy now. As she continues to walk, a car drives past close to the gutter. She looks up and watches as the brake lights come on.
The car slows & stops, a well-dressed young man in the backseat leans out the window and asks if she needs a lift. A middle-aged woman is driving, smoking a cigarette, a dog on her lap.
The young woman runs to the car and gets in the back seat. She is saturated and shivering from the rain.
The middle-aged woman looks at her from the rearview mirror with obvious distaste. The young woman pretends not to notice and smiles nervously.
The young man leans in close to her and says,” You shouldn’t have run off like that. You had mimsy and I very worried.” The middle-aged snorts sarcastically. Her miniature chihuahuas jumps up on the back of the seat and begins to growl and yelp it’s displeasure at the young woman.
I like your rules Gary, and I think they’re worth sticking to. How interesting!
“Shut that dog up.” he says to Mimsey.
Immediately the dog stops barking & flattens on Mimsey’s lap.
Mimsey drives. Now and again she checks her rearview mirror. The young man offers the young woman a cigarette, she ignores him, staring out the window.
He puts the pack away.
The young man turns to the young woman.
“Is it the silent treatment then Julia?”
She turns to him, glares
“4 hours and 22 minutes. I counted them.”
She turns back to the window.
The city is being left behind, and in the distance we see the beginnings of dawn in a clearing sky & what looks like a group of boarded up farm buildings.
From his suit pocket, the young man pulls out and taps a cigarette on the back of his hand to pack any loose leaves. He smiles as he screws the smoke into the corner of his mouth. “It isn’t my fault.”
“I haven’t fallen,” she snaps without turning. She stares out the window as the sidewalks and building fall away just a little bit faster.
Flames from his palm light the end of his cigarette. The young man exhales a thick pillar of smoke before looking at her feet. “What happened to your shoe? Your foot’s dirty.”
“The heel broke,” Julia replies, still looking out the window. Mimsy laughs at this and says, “That’s what you get for not wearing sensible shoes.”
The young man smokes in silence, his face expressionless. After a moment, he leans towards Julia and exhales the smoke before trying to fix her hair up.
“Really,” he says, “this will not do.”
“It’s your fault”, Julia snaps, if you hadn’t introduce us…her voice trails off. She turns away from the young man. The car turns off the paved road and onto a bumpy dirt one. It comes to a stop in front of a dilapidated old farm house. Mimsy throws the car into park. The young man exhales again.
“He’s inside. I expect he’s waiting for an explanation. An answer of some sorts. I just hope for your sake, you give him the right one”.
“You’re not coming?” Julia asks, looking between the young man and Mimsy. She suddenly doesn’t seem to want to leave without them. Te young man looks away
“You know the rules,” Mimsy says, patting the chihuahua.
Julia gets out of the car and walks towards the front of the farmhouse, her head down. She walks up the three steps and onto the front veranda. Behind her, the car reverses and drives off down the dirt road.
INT, EARLY MORNING, UPSTAIRS ROOM
THAT SEEMS TO DOUBLE AS BEDROOM, PARLOU.
Sun slanting in through a window. Overstuffed chairs, rich quilts, a single bed, a desk. One wall is covered in books. A gilded birdcage.
A MAN IN HIS EARLY SEVENTIES, ruggedly handsome in the way of Anthony Quinn is sitting in an armchair, a thick quilt around his shoulders. He is hand-feeding a white bird perched on the desk nearby.
A QUIET KNOCK ON THE DOOR
THEN ANOTHER
Hello Folks (Goldminers!)
RE: QUIZ….
Just a quick movie-script QUIZ —
Can you name the movie-script ???—
Here is a hint –
“The reasons cited is that shooting back-to-back could help costs considerably, plus would avoid any potential upcoming strike. The series is one of the most profitable franchises on the markets with last year’s third entry for example costing a mere $10 million, but taking in $164 million in ticket sales worldwide”
Good luck!
Hey Benjamin,
Would that be the Saw movies?
“Shut that dog up.” he says to Mimsey.
Immediately the dog stops barking & flattens on Mimsey’s lap.
Mimsey drives. Now and again she checks her rearview mirror. The young man offers the young woman a cigarette, she ignores him, staring out the window. He puts the pack away.
The young man turns to the young woman.
“Is it the silent treatment then Julia?”
She turns to him, glares
“4 hours and 22 minutes. I counted them.”
She turns back to the window.
The city is being left behind, and in the distance we see the beginnings of dawn in a clearing sky & what looks like a group of boarded up farm buildings.
From his suit pocket, the young man pulls out and taps a cigarette on the back of his hand to pack any loose leaves. He smiles as he screws the smoke into the corner of his mouth. “It isn’t my fault.”
“I haven’t fallen,” she snaps without turning. She stares out the window as the sidewalks and building fall away just a little bit faster.
Flames from his palm light the end of his cigarette. The young man exhales a thick pillar of smoke before looking at her feet. “What happened to your shoe? Your foot’s dirty.”
“The heel broke,” Julia replies, still looking out the window. Mimsy laughs at this and says, “That’s what you get for not wearing sensible shoes.”
The young man smokes in silence, his face expressionless. After a moment, he leans towards Julia and exhales the smoke before trying to fix her hair up.
“Really,” he says, “this will not do.”
“It is your fault”, Julia snaps, if you hadn’t introduce us…her voice trails off. She turns away from the young man.
The car turns off the paved road and onto a bumpy dirt one. It comes to a stop in front of a dilapidated old farm house. Mimsy throws the car into park. The young man exhales again.
“He’s inside. I expect he’s waiting for an explanation. An answer of some sorts. I just hope for your sake, you give him the right one”.
“You’re not coming?” Julia asks, looking between the young man and Mimsy. She suddenly doesn’t seem to want to leave without them. Te young man looks away
“You know the rules,” Mimsy says, patting the chihuahua.
Julia gets out of the car and walks towards the front of the farmhouse, her head down. She walks up the three steps and onto the front veranda. Behind her, the car reverses and drives off down the dirt road.
Early morning, upstairs room that seems to double as a bedroom, parlou.
Sun slanting in through a window. Overstuffed chairs, rich quilts, a single bed, a desk. One wall is covered in books. A gilded birdcage.
A man in his early seventies, ruggedly handsome in the way of Anthony Quinn is sitting in an armchair, a thick quilt around his shoulders.
He is hand-feeding a white bird perched on the desk nearby.
A quiet knock on the door. Then another.
“Come in” says the man. Julia opens the squeaky door and enters the room.
“Sir…”, the man cuts her off. Your just in time for tea. He motions for her to sit opposite him where a tea pot and two cups sit on a small table. The bird flies off and he pours the tea into both cups.
“Milk, suger?” Julia shakes her head and accepts the cup from him.
“How long have you been with us now?
Hello Gary,
Yes, it is Saw, not my type of movie or script, but it made lots of money. Still can understand this one? For me, I’m still waiting for the “three stogges” and laurel and hardy” version of Saw 1, 2, 3.
And as for the sample you gave us above, please give us an “intro” so we can comment…
Thanks
Benjamin
Hey benjamin,
The above isn’t a writing sample per se. You have to scroll through all the comments above to get the jist of the story. It started with an image and a couple of lines and everyone’s been kind enough to join in a move the story along.
It’s interesting because at this stage everyone has their own ideas of what it could be and their is a gentle push and tug as the story evolves. So it already needs a small rewrite!! lol.
But it’s fun and would be interesting to see how far it could go. Have a try at it if you like.
Happy Halloween Folks.
Please list the custume your will wearing for your Halloween party!!!!
Regards
Benjamin
Gary I love how you expressed that gentle tug of story evolution, right on. ha.
Fun to try to keep all the threads intact while moving it forward.
Benjamin!
If I were going to a party which sadly I’m not, though here in Canada it’s still a day away so things could change – I would be a victim of an organ snatcher, liver hole etc…and I would have a platter of liver in hand to offer to fellow partyers.
And you?
Hello Deirdre,
The big Halloween parties started on Saturday and the the so-so parties start on this Wednesday.
I havn’t decided — for HALOWEEN, I would be Magneto or Donald Trump or the Bratt Pitt Boxing Character from the movie Snatch (you know, the movie directed by God, sorry, I mean Guy Ritchie, Madonna’s director).
Regards
Benjamin
Deidre? That is SO macabre!
Donald Trump as Halloween Nasty? Love it. Alan Sugar as his attendant sprite?
And Ben, love the photo of your costume – will put it up on a temporary page pour l’encourager les autres. Or however the French say it.
Julia (ignores his question):”How’s Punk?”
Man:”We’ve been together for…(calculating)207 days if I remember it right.”
Julia:”Where’s my punk?”
Man:”Have no patience with an old man?”
Julia:”Please…”
Man:”Drink the tea, and I’ll tell you where she is.”
Julia sips the tea.
Man:”She’s in the kitchen.”
Julia coughs because of the hot tea.
Man:”She tastes good!”
The tea cup falls on the floor and turns into shards.
Julia:”You…”
Man:”I can cook any…thing I want to cook. I want you to know that. Well, she’s not your mother anyway. She’s just a cat!”
Hello Minshu,
I like the “experimental” style of the dialogues.
I also like the “risk” you took by not making it easy to “connect the dots” — sounds like a scene from “Twin Peaks”.
This is my type of writing — the future!
Structure – very “post-Amelie-like(Fr.)”, you have to provide some more…
This has an international flavor to it.
I’m a strong believer that writings from France, Germany, Italy, Japan and USA — are 100% unique.
Regards
Ben
Julia stares at him.
JULIA: I don’t believe you.
OLD MAN: You want to look and see? There should be something left on the counter. If you’re hungry, help yourself.
Julia looks at the door that leads to the kitchen.
Outside a rooster crows.
OLD MAN: When I was a child our yard was always full of birds. Every kind. Hens, quail, doves. There’s something relaxing about a chicken pecking in the dirt, don’t you think?
JULIA (whispers): I’m sorry.
OLD MAN: What for?
JULIA: For whatever I did that made you …
OLD MAN: Eat your cat?
JULIA nods
OLD MAN sighs: Julia. My dear. The world is full of nasty surprises, you mustn’t apologize for them all. Now, you have some broken glass to pick up.
She bends to clean the broken glass, looks up at him and whispers
JULIA: I hate you.
OLD MAN: Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.
A cat runs in through door, meowing loudly and jumps up onto the old man’s lap.
Hello Benjamin:
I just found it a very interesting idea and I was curious how far I could go…
Sounds like people don’t like the idea of cat being eaten LOL.
Questions: What is “post amilie like” structure? And what is yoyr “future” style of writing?
Hello Minshu,
Post-amilie-like — is a style that was very popular in France — it influenced screenwriters around the world…GOOGLE it or rent the movie.
And for “future”, please post more of your writings…curious to know more about the story
Regards
Hello Deirdre,
O.k. this is a good fusion — real vs animation, maybe not…
What’s the name of the script or story?
This story can work on a dreamlike level with some “climate” theme….
Fasinating…
Reads like David Lynch-like dream…
Regards
Benjamin
Minshu I keep thinking about this cat – lol – it’s not too late to bring it back to be eaten onscreen, that would be even more dramatic, anyway, that was a good twist & i enjoyed the challenge of making it work in what was already there – perhaps I resurrected it too soon?
Benjamin I like how you can relate segments to movies that spoke for you, thanks for saying…I see that Jeunet is now doing Life of Pi – wow.
dd
Re: Copyrights. Check out this site. 10 Big Myths about copyright explained. Brad has some great info. here, and not what you might think.
http://www.templetons.com/brad/copymyths.html
The OLD MAN smiles at JULIA and strokes the cat.
JULIA: You –
OLD MAN: Julia, you can’t really expect me to play nice with you after your recent…outing.
JULIA looks down, embarrassed. Long pause.
OLD MAN: Now Julia, you shouldn’t be ashamed of your decisions.
JULIA: You’re not mad?
The OLD MAN smiles, JULIA relaxes.
JULIA: I almost thought you had eaten him.
OLD MAN: He means that much to you, hmm? Next time, why not take the cat with you?
OLD MAN gets up, holding the cat in his arms…
(not sure where to go from there. Would it be awful to make him throw the cat at her, claws and all? Maybe someone else should decide)
JULIA pulls a small handgun from her purse.
Without any fanfare at all, she shoots the cat through the head, completely avoiding any injury to the old man.
The OLD MAN drops the cat, finally, and completely startled.
He looks at her.
JULIA: Thanks for tea by the way.
She puts her gun back in her purse & pulls out a slip of paper.
JULIA: Oh I almost forgot.
She hands the paper to him, pulls her wig off and scratches her head, drops the wig on the birdcage and leaves.
Over his shoulder we read what the OLD MAN is reading, Yasmin Harper, Montreal
The old man shouts after her,”What’s the meaning of this!”
Julia whips around just before she’s out the door and pulls the handgun from her purse.
In one fluid motion she pulls the trigger and shoots the old man right between the eyes.
“Say hello to punk for me”
He falls off the chair and crashes to the ground. The Large white parrot flies of it’s perch and starts squawking…
“Yasmin Harper, Montreal…Yasmin Harper, Montreal…”
CUT TO:
DORVAL AIRPORT, MONTREAL
Mimsey, her chihuaha, the young man & JULIA are coming out of the gate. Julia looks astonishingly beautiful. Everyone’s eyes are glued to her. The young man is eyeing them all nervously.
MIMSEY: I just don’t understand how we can move forward Julia if you keep shooting the money men.
JULIA:
Trust me.
Ha! I’m just LOVING this. Keep on, strange people…
MIMSEY stares at her for a moment before turning to the young man.
MIMSEY: Honestly, do you want to arouse suspicion?
YOUNG MAN: Sorry?
MIMSEY: The way you’re staring anyone might think we’d done something wrong.
JULIA: We’re not even close to that yet.
(not sure if I wrote this before and it didn’t get posted or if something else happened. Sorry if it gets double-posted)
MIMSEY stares at JULIA for a moment before turning to the YOUNG MAN.
MIMSEY: Are you trying to draw attention to us?
YOUNG MAN: Sorry:
MIMSEY: The way you’re looking, anyone would think we’d done something wrong.
JULIA: Oh, we’re not even close to that yet.
CUT TO LABORATORY
The usual assortment of test tubes, balances, bunsen burners, LED screens, counters etc. Perhaps not as high-tech as it might be. There is one lone ‘scientist’ at work. Stooped, bespectacled & earnest, YASMIN HARPER is bent over a test tube, pouring a pale blue liquid slowly, ever so slowly into an empty beaker.
KNOCK on laboratory door
YASMIN jumps
Hell and damnation!
One tiny drop of blue liquid teeters on the verge of spilling onto the lip of the beaker but YASMIN tilts it and saves the precious drop.
A young woman, a student, pokes her head in.
YOUNG WOMAN: Sorry, to bother, Mr. Harper?
YASMIN: Yes yes.
YOUNG WOMAN: You have a phone call, will you…can you…is it.
YASMIN: No phone calls Tanya.
TAMARA: Tamara. But they say it’s important.
YASMIN: Bumblebees are important. Cave paintings are important. Cloud formations are important. Tell them that.
TAMARA closes the door
YASMIN returns to his beaker.
(Well, here I go my first attempt at public writing! Apologies in advance if it’s terrible. I’m still learning format etc.)
) Paula.
—-
YASMIN returns to his beaker:
He gently swirls it, all the time watching the light blue liquid wash around inside in slow circles.
YASMIN: (Muttering to himself)
But you my dear, you are the most important thing of all, without you, nothing matters…
Laboratory door BANGS opens, a smartly dressed YOUNG MAN enters.
YOUNG MAN: So, this is where you’ve been hiding is it?
YASMIN:(Angrily)Interruptions!
He turns to look at the young man.
YASMIN (CONT’D): What is it now BEN? I knew I should have locked that damn door.
BEN: Wouldn’t matter if you did i’ve got a key!
Anyway what ya doing?
Ben glances down at the beaker in Yasmin’s hand then back to his face with a smirk.
BEN: (CONT’D) You were talking to that stuff again weren’t you?
He starts to laugh.
BEN (CONT’D) Go on admit it!
YASMIN: It’s not stuff… this my boy is liquid gold!
BEN moves in closer and looks inside the beaker
BEN: But it’s blue! Blue… Stuff!
YASMIN: That stuff, as you call it, is worth more than you’ll ever see in your life time.
(Shrugs)
At least it will be if I ever get the formula right.
BEN: Ah! that reminds me, that’s why i’m here.
Iv’e got that DNA sample you asked for.
He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Yasmin.
(yay!)
INT – TOP LEVEL BOARD ROOM – A BIG SCREEN MONITOR ON THE WALL, SHOWING VARIOUS SATELLITE SHOTS OF FACTORY LOCATIONS IN REMOTE PLACES AROUND THE WORLD, ZOOMING IN
THREE MEN IN SUITS STANDING AND SITTING AROUND A HUGE POLISHED TABLE
MAN 1
What do we know?
MAN 2
Pierre San Carlos was found murdered in the safe house.
MAN 1
When?
MAN 2
3 days ago.
MAN 1
Was he uncovered?
MAN 2
It’s hard to say. I don’t think so at this time. We’re still investigating. It could be random, although-
MAN 1
Although what?
MAN 2
There is an indication he might have been a double agent.
MAN 1
What indication?
MAN 2
A scrap of paper on the floor with the words Yasmin Harper Montreal.
MAN 1
Ah.
MAN 2
And not only that
MAN 1
Go on.
MAN 2
You go Fred.
FRED
We found a cat sir.
MAN 1
What do you mean a cat?
FRED
A cat, at his feet. Shot moments before Pierre was murdered. A single bullet to the head. We found that unusual, so we investigated further. When we did an autopsy on the cat we found this inside…
(he hands MAN 1 a microchip)
MAN 1
What’s on it?
FRED
The exact location of this room Sir.
MAN 1
Anything else?
FRED
And one name.
MAN 1
Whose?
MAN 2
Yours sir. Jeremy Clovis. Details of your family, the usual stuff.
FRED
And a woman’s wig.
JEREMY
My god. Anything more?!
MAN 2
A bird. And I think that’s it eh Fred?
OUTSIDE WE HEAR THE CHANTING OF A CROWD AS A DEMONSTRATION BEGINS
WE WANT REAL FOOD WE WANT REAL FOOD WE WANT REAL FOOD
INT LABORATORY
YASMIN HARPER looks at the envelope in his hand, We see what he is reading:
{DNA sample- subject Jeremy clovis-28th March 2007.}
He walks over to a counter and puts the beaker and envelope down.
He lights a flame under a bunsen burner it has a beaker held above it. The beaker contains a small amount of clear liquid.
Using a syringe he collects a small amount of the blue liquid and slowly squirts it into the beaker, using long tweezers he removes a short grey hair from the envelope.
He places this gently into the beaker too, the liquid is being to boil as he stirs it with the tweezers.
YASMIN: Well Mr. Clovis, lets see what you have to say for yourself!
BEN: The phonecall earlier – you should have taken it.
YASMIN continues to work. He turns the burner off, using a new syringe he sucks up 2ml of the blue liquid, holding it upright in front of his face, he taps the syringe twice to remove any air bubbles.
YASMIN: Are you still here?
BEN: You were busy, so I took the liberty of taking the call for you. I think you may have found it interesting!
YASMIN: Oh and who put you in charge to make such decisions?
BEN: The company did – that’s why I’m here. Their not too happy with your progress Mr Harper, so, they’ve sent me to keep an eye on things.
YASMIN: (Angrily) I’ve told them I can only do so much with what I have here.
(YASMIN waves his arm to indicate the laboratory.)
BEN: Be that as it may, you might need to speed things along.
The phone call – Pierre San Carlos has been found murdered.
YASMIN (Shocked) What! When? Have we been compromised?
BEN: We can’t tell, someone had been there before our contact arrived. We don’t know who, or wether they found anything useful.
INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
Mimsey is unpacking Julia’s suitcase. Hanging her things up in a closet. Her dog is there, barking & jumping on furniture, his usual hyper self.
There’s a beautiful view of Montreal out the window. Julia is looking out, the young man, PATRICK is behind her. He stands close.
JULIA
Please.
And she turns from the window & moves further away from him.
PATRICK
lights a cigarette
The demonstration over?
JULIA
Yes, for whatever good it did.
PATRICK
You’re nervous tonight.
JULIA
Of course I am. You would be too if you knew what was at stake.
PATRICK
I do know.
JULIA
But you don’t believe it.
he shrugs
MIMSEY picks up a vacuum sealed pack from the suitcase.
MIMSEY
What’s this. Is this. Oh my god what is this.
JULIA
Put it down.
MIMSEY
Where did you get it?
JULIA
The old man.
PATRICK
San Carlos?
MIMSEY
I hope you didn’t…
JULIA
Of course not.
PATRICK
What is it?
JULIA
A health-like pepperoni stick, tofu substitute & quinoa substitute & red food coloring, and more. It’s completely manufactured. It fills you up and gives you nothing in return. Well almost nothing.
PATRICK
Horrible.
JULIA
Yes & not only that but sushi or tortillas. Whatever they want. Not many yet, just a few samplings. And we have no idea how they’re manufactured. They’ve been found in Nairobi and Kazakstan. And one in Montreal. The people never even know what hit them.
PATRICK picks it up and opens it.
JULIA
What the hell are you doing?!!
PATRICK
I’m hungry, not to mention curious.
(he starts to take a bite of the pepperoni stick)
MIMSEY suddenly lunges at Patrick and knocks him to the ground, grabbing the pepperoni stick out of his hand.
JULIA
Mimsey your hands!
Mimsey immediately drops the stick and rushes to the bathroom. We hear her washing her hands.
PATRICK
Are you people crazy or what? It’s genetically modified health food, so the f**k what?
JULIA
Wash your hands.
PATRICK
What?
JULIA
DO IT!
He does.
They all come back and stare at the pepperoni stick. Suddenly the little dog comes by to sniff it, MIMSEY screams
MIMSEY
Beethoven! NO!
Beethoven eats the stick.
He licks his lips.
He farts.
He turns around in one slow circle.
He opens his mouth to bark and out comes a soft sibillant whisper of a breath. Slowly he walks to the corner of the room and lies down.
He is not dead, nor dying.
He is transformed.
JULIA
Imagine what that would do to an entire robust discontented population. Still hungry Patrick?
(JULIA
Imagine what that would do to an entire robust discontented population. Still hungry Patrick?)
PATRICK: Um, funny enough, No , not anymore!
KNOCK on the door from the main room of the hotel suite.
PATRICK goes through to answer it.
INT. HILTON HOTEL MONTREAL – NIGHT
PATRICK opens the door to see a HOTEL PORTER waiting patiently.
HOTEL PORTER: good evening sir, I have the last of your bags.
The PORTER pushes past PATRICK pulling a large black suitcase on wheels behind him.
PATRICK: Thank you!
PATRICK pats his pockets, realising he doesn’t have any change for a tip he heads back to JULIA’S room.
PATRICK (CONT’D): One moment please!
He calls out to Mimsey.
PATRICK(CONT’D): Mims, do have any change?
Patrick walks back into Julia’s room as MIMSEY is looking through her purse. No one has noticed the PORTER following PATRICK in.
PORTER: Where would you like……..
The PORTER sees Beethoven lying in the corner.
He is horrified.
PORTER (CONT’D): (Screams) Oh, MY God what is that th….. uh.
The PORTER stops suddenly his eyes glaze over and he falls sideways. PATRICK catches him before he hits the floor. The heel of JULIA’S black 5″ stiletto is still sticking into his temple. There is a tiny trickle of blood running down his face.
PATRICK: Really Julia, must you kill everyone we meet?
JULIA: Well thanks to you, I didn’t have much choice, did I?
PATRICK: Hey! Don’t you blame this on me!
MIMSEY: (Exasperated) Children, children, please don’t fight. I have to agree Julia, you must try to keep the body count down.
MIMSEY walks over to the body, bends over it and gently removes the shoe, as she does she places a handkerchief over the wound. MIMSEY looks impressed.
MIMSEY: I must admit though, you did do a good job Julia, hardly any mess at all.
PATRICK: That’s not the point though is it, now i’ve got a body to get rid of.
PATRICK stands up.
PATRICK (CONT’D): How the hell am I supposed to do that in a busy hotel?
MIMSEY and JULIA both look around him at the big black suitcase, they both look at each other, then at the body, back to the suitcase and then at PATRICK. They look back to each other and both smile.
PATRICK: And, what’s so funny?
JULIA: You!
MIMSEY: Especially when you’re pulling a big black suitcase through the foyer. (Giggles) With a dead body in it!
JULIA and MIMSEY both explode into laughter.
INT. HILTON HOTEL MONTREAL, FOYER, NIGHT.
elevator doors open and PATRICK steps out, pulling the suitcase with him.
PATRCIK sees PORTER 2 taking luggage across the foyer towards a taxi bay and begins walking towards PORTER 2. He stops when he sees a man approach PORTER 2.
MAN: Some of this stuff is quite fragile. Please be careful when you’re putting it in the taxi outside.
PORTER 2: (disinterested) Yes.
MAN: Your efforts will be rewarded. Mr Harper can be very generous.
PORTER 2: Yes, sir!
PORTER 2 begins hurrying carefully towards a taxi outside.
EXT. HILTON HOTEL MONTREAL, NIGHT.
MAN: Thank you. Is that all the luggage?
PORTER 2: I believe so, sir.
PATRICK, who has been just inside, rushed out at this point and heads towards the MAN.
PATRICK: Sir! I believe this was with your luggage before and may have been overlooked.
MAN: Put it in the back, man.
PATRICK: Yes sir.
PORTER 2: (confused)Sir, I thought I’d collected all your –
MAN: You thought wrong.
The MAN hands PORTER 2 a small tip and PATRICK a considerably larger one. Before either of them can say anything, the NAN gets in the taxi and it drives off.
PORTER 2 stares at PATRICK.
PATRICK: A photo would last longer, sweety.
EXT. STREET MONTREAL – NIGHT
Yasmin Harper is walking down a deserted street in a non-residential area.
In the shadows on the ground, a homeless person lies, apparently asleep.
Yasmin passes him, then stops and turns back.
He stares at the person for a moment.
YASMIN
Markets are down, exchange is up and the moon is full. What do you say to that?
(pause, a silence)
Sorry, my mistake.
(he begins to walk off again)
HOMELESS ONE
And the hunter will be hunted.
Yasmin stops.
HOMELESS ONE
Her name is Julia and she will help you spread the antidote. But you must hurry. Your life is in grave danger. But more so is hers.
THREE HOODLUMS APPROACH
HOMELESS
Go. Hurry.
YASMIN
But where is -
HOODLUM #1
(in French)
Hey man, you’re sleeping in my way man.
(he kicks the homeless man)
YASMIN
What are you -
HOMELESS
Go!
HOODLUM #2
(in French)
I don’t like the look of this one.
HOODLUM #3
A rabbit.
YASMIN
That’s enough. Get out of my way.
HOODLUM #1
A rabbit and a mouse.
YASMIN
I’ve got a watch. I’ve got credit cards. Take them.
HOODLUM #1
I got my own watch. Let’s see what else you got in your pockets. Come on!
Yasmin slowly empties his pockets.
HOODLUM #2
More! All of it!
HOODLUM #3
He’s holding out.
Yasmin finally pulls out a test tube of blue liquid.
HOODLUM #1
(laughs) He’s holding! What is it? Ecstasy?
HOODLUM #2
Maybe La Roche!
HOODLUM #3
No, no, it’s the Blind Squid, Kit-kat, Super Acid, Super C
YASMIN
This is not…you can’t…
HOODLUM #1
Damn. We scored.
(he reaches for the vial)
Hoodlum 1′s mouth suddenly drops open, he looks around, slowly, wide-eyed and drops. A bullet hole appears in his forehead.
The homeless man shoots the other two hoodlums.
HOMELESS
Now go find her. Before she finds you. Before they convince her you’re the enemy.
CUT TO YASMIN’S LAB
BEN is mixing chemicals at a different work bench to the one we previously saw YASMIN at. There are opened draws and equiptment is in disarray – it looks as though he is using some of YASMIN’S equiptment.
A KNOCK on the door makes BEN look up from his work. TAMARA, the young woman from before enters.
BEN: Is he back?
TAMARA: No, Ben. We aren’t sure where Dr Harper is.
BEN: Good. Sort of, anyway. (beat) What is it then, Tamara?
(TAMARA’S face shows a hint of approval at hearing her name correctly)
TAMARA: There’s a phone call from a Mister Fred Smith. He said it’s urgent.
BEN: It’s always urgent with Fred. Tell him I’m busy, but that everything’s the same.
(She nods, and goes to leave)
BEN: And Tamara? (She turns) Notify me the minute you see Yasmin in range of the cameras.
TAMARA: Of course.
EXT. STREET MONTREAL – NIGHT
YASMIN HARPER is running down a street, he looks over his shoulder nervously as he runs.
He sees a taxi coming towards him, he runs out into the road to stop it. As it pulls up sharply in front of him, he is bent over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath.
The CAB DRIVER opens his door and starts to get out of the cab. He speaks with a French accent.
CAB DRIVER: Hey Monsieur? Are you alright?
YASMIN hurry’s around to the back door of the cab and pulls the door open.
YASMIN: I’m fine. (catches a few breaths) Just in a hurry, please lets get going?
He dives into the cab and slams the door, his eyes wide as he looks out of the car window, watching the street.
INT. CAB – NIGHT
The CAB DRIVER shrugs and follows suit.
CAB DRIVER: OK, your paying! Where to?
He is looking at YASMIN intently.
YASMIN: I don’t know. Back to the Lab?
CAB DRIVER: ..And that would be, where?
YASMIN: Oh, Right (flustered) go towards the Lachine Canal and I’ll tell you the way from there.
CAB DRIVER: OK
YASMIN continues to look nervously through the window as the streets rush by.
CAB DRIVER: (Looking at YASMIN in the rear view mirror) You look like you’ve had quite a night Monsieur!
YASMIN: You have no idea!
The streets continue to rush by.
YASMIN suddenly sits up straight.
YASMIN (CONT’D): Wait a minute your going the wrong way, this isn’t the way to the Lachine Canal. HEY! HEY!
The CAB DRIVER ignores him. YASMIN grabs at the door handle, but the door is locked and there is no way to open the windows.
He starts to bang his hands on the Glass window.
YASMIN: HELP! HELP!
CAB DRIVER: Please monsieur, just relax, you are in no danger here.
YASMIN: The hell, i’m not! Why am I locked in?
CAB DRIVER: I can say no more, My BOSS will explain everything when we get there.
Now if you would be so kind, You will find a blindfold on the back seat.
You will please put it on!
YASMIN: What? What blindfold?
He feels around on the back seat and picks up a large black blindfold.
CAB DRIVER: (Watching him) Yes, that’s it.
A bit cliché I know, but the boss insisted.
YASMIN ties the blindfold tightly over his eyes.
YASMIN: This is ridiculous!
=========================================
Hi Amz,
) Very clever – I would never have thought of that – Brilliant!
I wanted to say – I just Loved how you got rid of the suitcase!
Hi Deirdre,
I also Love how you keep putting a new twist in the story, it makes it more challenging!
Where do you come up with these things? Haha!
- By the way does anyone else wish this thing had spell check? Or am I the only writer in the world who can’t spell?
)
Regards
Paula
EXT. STREET MONTREAL – NIGHT
YASMIN is running down a street, he glances around him in panic, eyes wide.
A taxi is coming up the road towards him.
He runs out into the road to stop the cab, as it pulls up sharply in front of him, he is bent over, hands on knees trying to catch his breath.
The CAB DRIVER gets out of the cab looking concerned, he speaks with a French accent.
CAB DRIVER: Monsieur, Are you alright?
YASMIN straightens up and rushes around to the back door of the car, pulling it open he calls out to the Cab driver. He is still short of breath.
YASMIN: Yes, yes, (Gasp) lets go, please, (Gasp) We must hurry.
He dives into the cab slamming the door behind him and stares worriedly out through the glass.
The Cab driver does the same.
INT: CAB – NIGHT
CAB DRIVER: Whatever you say Monsieur, Where to?
YASMIN: Oh!…Head towards the Lachine Canal, um, I’ll direct you from there.
CAB DRIVER: Yes Monsieur.
YASMIN continues staring out of the windows, watching the streets as they rush by. The CAB DRIVER is watching YASMIN in the rear view mirror.
CAB DRIVER: Looks like you’ve had quite a night Monsieur?
YASMIN: You have no idea!
CAB DRIVER: (Suddenly serious) Oh, but I think I do and I can assure you it’s not over yet?
YASMIN stops staring out the window and catches the drivers eyes in the mirror. He quickly looks back out to the street starting to panic.
YASMIN: Wait! This isn’t the way to The Lachine Canal? You’re going the wrong way.
HE grabs at the handle but the door is locked and there is no way of opening the window.
YASMIN: Stop! You can’t do this. HELP! HELP!
He is banging on the window with both fists.
CAB DRIVER: Please monsieur, calm yourself, you are in no danger here.
YASMIN: Who are you? What do you want?
CAB DRIVER: (Laughs) Me? I am merely your driver monsieur. It is my Boss who wishes to speak to you.
YASMIN: Your Boss? Who’s that?
CAB DRIVER: All in good time monsieur. For now, you will find a blindfold on the seat beside you. You will please, put it on.
YASMIN: A Blindfold?
YASMIN feels around on the backseat and finds a large black blindfold. He sees the driver still watching him. He begins to put the blindfold on.
CAB DRIVER: Thank You monsieur. It’s a Cliché I know, but the boss insisted.
YASMIN: This is ridiculous!
CAB DRIVER: Please monsieur, sit back and catch your breath, we will be there soon enough.
EXT: CAB / Street Montreal – Night
The cab picks up speed and drives off into the distance.
===============================================
HI Amz – I just wanted to say I Loved how you got rid of the suitcase – I would never have thought of that!
) Really – Brilliant…
Hi Deirdre – I also Love the way you twist the story around all the time, It keeps me on my toes! Haha!
)
(Am I the only one that wishes there was spell check here – or, have I just admitted that I’m the only writer (wanna be) in the world who can’t spell?
) … ) hehe
Paula
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