Saturday, October 16, 2010

ATW: 24 (minutes) (Part Two)

Previously on ATW: 24 (minutes)

INT – NATHAN’S

(Chris is staring at his phone. He hears a voice speak. It is Miguel sitting next to him on the couch in some sort of ghost like costume.)

MIGUEL GHOST: Do you really think he’s going to finish the script in time?

CHRIS: No. I’m thinking that I’m probably going to take a nap before going to the show anyway.

MIGUEL GHOST: So you’re torturing him?

CHRIS: Not at all. If it’s a good enough idea we can shoot it some other time. There’s just nothing like a deadline. And speaking of dead, you look an awful lot like a ghost. What’s up?

MIGUEL GHOST: I’m the Ghost of Public Access Past.

CHRIS: Are you?

(Chris gets up and goes to the refrigerator to get a soda. All that’s in there is a 2-liter of Dr. Pepper and a 2-liter of Diet Coke. He grabs the Dr. Pepper and a glass.)

CHRIS: I seem to remember having cans in there.

MIGUEL GHOST: Most people are scared when they meet a ghost. You’re being obstinate.

CHRIS: Obstinate?

MIGUEL GHOST: And you’re asking derogatory questions.

CHRIS: Am I?

MIGUEL GHOST: Why are you acting this way?

(Chris pours some soda filling the tall glass. He returns the lid to the bottle.)

CHRIS: I’m irritated. I don’t want to do a stupid sketch spoofing “A Christmas Carol” so instead I have to live it. You know what I have to say about that?

MIGUEL GHOST: Bah Humbug?

CHRIS: No. You can take this 2-liter bottle and go…

INT – MIGUEL’S

(Miguel’s phone beeps its censor like indicator. The camera pans to the bathroom which is still occupied by Miguel. The shot cuts to Miguel in the bathroom. He is reading his book still. The screen splits, and we see Miguel reading on one half and Nathan typing on the other half. It holds for a little while, and then cuts to Chris in the living room.)

INT – NATHAN’S

(Chris is still sitting with Miguel Ghost. He is sulking. He finishes off the glass of soda, and goes about the task of refilling it.)

CHRIS: At least sing “Henry the Eighth” and entertain me.

MIGUEL GHOST: I don’t think so.

CHRIS: Then show me whatever it is that you need to show me, so you can get the hell out of here.

MIGUEL GHOST: Don’t say “Hell.’ I’m doing community service here so I don’t have to go back.

CHRIS: Is it really that bad there? I always presumed that it was custom fit to the person being punished.

MIGUEL GHOST: It is. In my Hell the only Star Wars movie is “The Phantom Menace.”

(Miguel Ghost shudders.)

MIGUEL GHOST: Somebody must have walked over my grave. What I have to show you is a scene from your life.

CHRIS: Does this have anything to do with pizza delivery?

MIGUEL GHOST: Strangely, no.

(The scene fades, and we see Chris without his goatee and Miguel in a wig of long black hair. Miguel is writing furiously in a notebook.)

MIGUEL GHOST (voice over): This is deep in your public access past when you were still working with Miguel on… um…

CHRIS (voice over): “Sniffles (sniff).”

MIGUEL GHOST (voice over): Really? What a dumb name.

(Miguel in the flashback finishes writing. He takes it to Chris who is changing cassettes out in the stereo.)

MIGUEL: Hey Chris.

(Chris doesn’t say anything. Miguel looks expectantly hoping that Chris will answer him.)

MIGUEL: Hey Chris.

(Chris puts away the tape he just removed.)

MIGUEL: Hey Chris.

(Chris pours some Dr. Pepper from a 2-liter bottle.)

MIGUEL: Hey Chris.

CHRIS: What is it Miguel?

MIGUEL: I thought that, you know. That um, because you know your idea…

CHRIS: Spit it out!

MIGUEL: What?

(Chris takes a sip of the soda, and then spits it in Miguel’s face.)

CHRIS: I said spit it out.

MIGUEL: Ok. Thank you for sharing your soda, Chris. I just really thought your idea about doing three minutes of usable footage a day was so good that I would, you know, write a script. I wrote this. It’s ten pages, so we can get three days of shooting out of it. It took me four hours to write, and I won’t be watching the Princess Leia in Jabba’s den scene tonight, but I believe that it will bring the public access glory you truly deserve.

(Chris looks at Miguel contemptuously. Miguel looks eagerly. Chris takes the notebook and Miguel jumps a little and whoops excitedly. Chris flips to the first page, and looks momentarily.)

CHRIS: A spoof of “A Christmas Carol”? Are you an idiot? I’m not shooting this.

(Miguel looks crestfallen.)

CHRIS: Get out of my sight. And forget about the three minutes a day thing. I can’t work with someone who lacks the talent to come up with an original idea.

MIGUEL: But Hollywood is filled with people who write unoriginal…

CHRIS: Professionals? You speak to me of professionals! I’ll go find someone else to do this with. Someone who understands me.

(The scene fades back to Chris and Miguel Ghost. Chris is pouring out the last of the Dr. Pepper 2-liter, and returns the cap to the bottle.)

CHRIS: That’s really not how I remember that happening.

MIGUEL GHOST: What would I have to gain by changing facts?

(Chris suddenly stands and lifts Miguel Ghost from the couch, throwing him across the room. Miguel Ghost tries to stand, only to be grabbed up by Chris and thrown against the wall. Chris has him by the throat.)

CHRIS: Who sent you!

MIGUEL GHOST: I told you. I’m doing community service…

CHRIS: You’re lying! Tell me the truth!

MIGUEL GHOST (whimpering): I’m not lying. Please. I’m not lying.

(Chris throws Miguel Ghost to the floor. Cut to a close up of Chris looking like he doesn’t know what came over him. He presses his elbow to the wall and leans his head against his arm, breathing heavily, looking a bit despondent. Behind him, Miguel Ghost looks at him maliciously. He moves slowly toward the empty 2-liter bottle. He picks it up and runs across the room to smack Chris on the head with it. Chris falls to the ground knocked out. Miguel Ghost leaves the house quickly. The camera pans away from his departure to Chris lying on the floor. The screen changes to the digital time layout. It says 6:51.)

(The Intermission starts. Self promotion of the website and other amazing things.)

(And we wait for Part Three)

No comments :

Post a Comment