Draft- Cart Pusher- Part One

NOTE: This is the first part of a TV script I wrote awhile back. I want to go back and do some heavy revisions but I figured I would post what I started with. Originally, I was shooting for a hybrid workplace and young adult drama. Again, this is a VERY rough start, and I apologize for the formatting, I copied it from another file and I was too tired to change anything.

EXT: DEPARTMENT STORE FRONT- AFTERNOON

A cookie cutter department store rests in the center of a neighborhood that isn’t quite bustling enough to be considered a city, but it definitely isn’t Podunk enough to ever be thought of as a small town. People file through the electronic doors in an orderly fashion. The parking lot is nearly full as the early afternoon crowds hit the stores for some shopping. One by one the stored gradually becomes more filled with bored teenagers and desperate housewives searching for something to make their families for dinner.

INT: PRESENT DAY BREAK ROOM-AFTERNOON

(Nick, Mike, Brett, Jake & some extras for scenery)

Enter on a poorly lit break room of a department store. The room is relatively large, but the walls are the most depressing shade of grey that has ever been created. An out dated television is broadcasting some sort of local program as no one pays attention, it is merely serving as background noise to the mind numbing boredom of part time labor. At a cafeteria style lunch table in the corner two young, twenty somethings, discuss their plans for the night ahead of them. They both are speaking in hushed voices so their conversation is not overheard by unwanted ears.

 

NICK:

What about the new guy?

 MIKE:

What about him?

 NICK:

Should we invite him? I mean, he seems normal enough.

 MIKE:

I’m almost positive if you were to talk to anyone that has ever intimately known a serial killer, the words “normal enough” are sure to occur at some point.

 NICK:

I’m sure he’s fine. I just want as many people as possible to be there.

 MIKE:

Listen, we just moved in together, and the last thing I want is to get evicted within our first week.

 NICK:

Mike, I understand and respect your concern, but I also need you to understand, that there is no goddamn way this party is not going to be the single greatest social event of our lives. Thus far anyway.

 MIKE:

Do you honestly believe, for one second, that I wouldn’t want to throw the biggest party these people have ever seen? I just think we should hold off for a couple weeks until we’re fully settled. Come on man, have you even finished unpacking yet?

 NICK:

No, but that’s only because I was planning on doing it after the party. I don’t want my valuables to get destroyed from drunk strangers and slutty girls.

 MIKE:

Your valuables?

 NICK:

Yeah my valuables.

 MIKE:

And what valuables have you been hiding from me for all this time?

 NICK:

Mostly my CD collection, but there’s some rare pressings in there.

 MIKE:

Nick, I mean this with all the love I would give to a sibling or parent, but your stuff is worthless.

 NICK:

You’re so cynical, does sentimental value mean nothing to you?

 MIKE:

You don’t want me to answer that question.

 

(Before Nick can respond their coworker Brett grabs a seat at the same table and tries to jump in on the conversation.)

 

BRETT:

What’s up whores? So is all this talk I’ve heard about a party tonight true, or is everyone just fucking with me?

 NICK:

Well gee Brett, I don’t know, you’re gonna have to talk to my man Mike here because he’s trying to shut the whole thing down before it even starts.

 BRETT:

Mike, why you got to hate fun so much?

 MIKE:

I don’t hate fun, and I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep your fucking voice down because the last thing I want is every idiot in this place to know that we’re throwing a party tonight.

 

BRETT:

So you guys are having a party tonight?

 NICK:

Mike’s afraid that we’re going to get thrown out.

 BRETT:

Didn’t you guys just move in?

 NICK:

Just last week.

BRETT:

Then why are you being such a pussy?

 NICK:

That’s a valid question Mike.

 MIKE:

I don’t think being homeless is such a good choice right now.

 

BRETT:

Well I’m assuming most of your stuff is probably still in boxes so I mean, even if you did get thrown out, the move would be a little easier. Besides, what place is going to throw you out after one party? As long as you don’t set the house on fire, what’s the worst that could happen?

 MIKE:

What about the cops?

 BRETT:

What about the cops? We’re all adults.

 MIKE:

Nick wants to invite the new guy.

 BRETT:

I wouldn’t do that, he looks like a serial killer.

 NICK:

He looks normal enough!

 BRETT:

Then you go right ahead and invite him over, but when you wake up dead, you can bet your ass I’m going to say “I told you so” at your funeral.

 NICK:

You’re too kind.

 BRETT:

Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’ll be sad and all that shit, but being right is always important even after someone has died.

 MIKE:

I believe Gandhi said that.

 NICK:

I’m inviting the new guy. You guys can deal with it.

 

BRETT:

Honestly, I don’t give any amount of fucks who comes, I just want to get hammered.

 NICK:

Sounds fair. So Mike, can we have a party?

 BRETT:

Yeah Mike, can we have a party?

 MIKE:

Jesus, you two are pushy, alright fine we can have a fucking party, but if anything happens I’m telling our landlord this was all your idea.

 NICK:

That’s fine with me.

BRETT:

So, who else should we invite tonight?

 NICK:

I thought you said you didn’t care who came tonight.

 BRETT:

I don’t, I’m just curious.

 NICK:

Well, I’m assuming you’re going to bring Neil as your plus one.

 BRETT:

Real funny dickhead, but yeah he and I are a package deal.

 MIKE:

Who else?

 NICK:

What about Jake?

 BRETT:

Well yeah, he always has weed and he’s willing to share.

 MIKE:

If you invite Jake, then you better make sure you don’t invite Hillary.

 NICK:

Why not? They’re a great couple.

 BRETT:

A great couple that technically isn’t supposed to be together.

 NICK:

Can I just say, I think that whole rule is bullshit by the way?

 MIKE:

What rule?

 BRETT:

You know, coworkers can’t date each other.

 NICK:

No, no, no, you got it wrong, you see, the three of us can date any other employee we want, as long as they’re our equal, but Jake can’t date anyone affiliated with this store because he’s a manager. Corporate doesn’t give a fuck about “office romances” they don’t want anything that can even remotely be considered nepotism.

 MIKE:

That’s fucked up.

 NICK:

Yeah, no shit.

 BRETT:

I’m inviting them both. I don’t care.

 NICK:

Are you fucking deaf or just an asshole? I just explained the situation to you and that’s your reaction.

 BRETT:

It’s a party, what do you expect? Even if anyone found out about it, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like they’re going on a date together. They’re meeting a group of mutual friends after work for a couple of drinks to unwind. There’s nothing wrong with that.

 MIKE:

Are managers allowed to spend time with their employees outside of work?

 NICK:

Technically yes, it’s frowned upon, but there’s no official rule saying they can’t.

 BRETT:

So, you can “hang out” with them, you just can’t fuck them.

 NICK:

To be fair, the rules don’t forbid sex, they just forbid “romance.”

 BRETT:

Perfect, that just means whenever someone bangs a chick from their office they need to do it with the lights off and no eye contact.

 NICK:

I wasn’t aware there was any other way.

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Draft- Far From Wall Street- Part One

NOTE: This is a VERY rough draft of a script I’ve been working on. It’s only the first few pages and I will post the rest in pieces due to the size. It’s very loosely based in some reality. I come from a very white collar background; I’ve spent the entirety of my professional life in offices and I can honestly say it has been the best times of my life. Aside from my wife and family, my job is the best part of my life, and I wanted to create a potential series based around these experiences. Again, this not auto biographical, but there’s real world inspiration.

FADE IN

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM- EARLY MORNING

A gorgeous board room containing ten eager twenty something men dressed in refined business wear sit and listen anxiously to a man in his forties at the front of the board room addressing the group. One young man Calvin, sits and glances around the room attempting to mask his boredom. The man in his forties continues speaking with a general lack of interest.

MAN:

After one month here at First National, half of you will be fired.

This grabs Calvin’s attention whose eyes dart to the front of the room. The man continues speaking in a ‘matter of fact’ tone.

MAN:

This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I’m sorry to say, that’s just the way things work here.

A random young man from the group raises his hand.

YOUNG MAN:

Excuse me sir, but if half of us are going to be leaving, then why did the company hire ten new employees? Why not just hire five?

MAN:

Because the fact is, not all of you are going to succeed here. The company has found that, on average, from every ten new employees, only five have what it takes to be competent associates. So why hire two people when you can hire one that can handle the workload of two? This is a cutthroat industry and the only way to guarantee a position at this company is to make as much money as possible. I’m not going to lie to any of you, this job has the potential to ruin lives. I’ve seen a lot of people come through here who end up folding shirts at the mall only a few weeks later, but you’ve got to be willing to gamble your livelihood on the fabulous prizes. Any questions?

No one says anything. The room is filled with terrified looks and enthusiastic grins.

MAN:

Perfect, if you’ll all follow me I will get you set up with your work center.

The man leads the group of young men to a pair of ornate double doors. He throws the doors open and the scene on the other side resembles a country amid a civil war. Dozens of men and women are standing and shouting on their phones while others attempt to crouch under their desks for silence. Papers fly, people curse, and bodies run by in pure chaos.

MAN:

Welcome to the Call Center gentlemen, your new home.

The man starts dispersing the group amongst the vast floor of madness. The room is not divided by offices or cubicles instead, it’s a series of adjoining desks divided into separate communes amongst a wide open floor. The group gradually thins until Calvin and one other guy are left.

MAN:

Alright, you two are going to be working here in Lot F, find an open desk and get situated.

The man wanders off and disappears amidst the insanity. Calvin sets his backpack down on the first empty space he can find and the second young man sits at the opposite end of the Lot. The man next to Calvin is speaking on the phone in a calm manner, Calvin tries to not look like he’s listening as he slowly empties his bag but he can’t help but listen to this man talk; his demeanor doesn’t match the rest of the office, he’s cool, relaxed, and talks slow. Calvin notices the placard on the man’s desk it reads “Mark Cather.”

MARK:

(On the phone)

Hey, I completely understand sir, and I apologize tremendously for the inconvenience, but what I’ve done for you today I, I have waived the late fee, but I have to tell you, that this balance will need to be paid in full before the end of the month or else I won’t be able to waive the next fee.

(Listening to customer)

Uh huh, well that sounds great sir, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, you have a great day, and thank you for choosing First National.

Mark hangs up and turns his chair towards Calvin. Calvin averts his eyes and stares at his belongings on the desk hoping Mark didn’t notice him watching.

MARK:

(Extending hand)

Hey! A new guy, how’s it going man? I’m Mark, looks like we’re going to be work mates. What’s your name bro?

CALVIN:

(Shaking hand)

I’m Calvin.

MARK:

That’s awesome man, you excited to be here?

CALVIN:

Yeah, definitely man, I mean, I’m nervous but it’s a good kind of nervous.

MARK:

(Chuckles)

Yeah I hear you man, this place still scares the hell out of me, but trust me, things only gets easier from this point forward.

CALVIN:

I think the guy that trained us would disagree with you.

MARK:

Who, Frank? Forget about that guy. Frank has been here longer than anybody and he still gets passed over for managerial positions, he’s a miserable dick. This place isn’t nearly as bad or as scary as Frank would like you to believe. Did he tell you guys about how half of you are going to get fired over the next month?

CALVIN:

Yeah he did. Is that not true?

MARK:

No, it’s definitely true, but that’s only because most people can’t handle the pressure that comes along with this job. Take a look around. You see all these people? They’re all going to die, and I’m willing to bet that most of those deaths are going to be from something stress related. Once you realize that, nothing seems that important. Here’s the fact about this job, yes sales are not only important they’re mandatory, but they should never be your number one priority. Your number one priority should be customer service. You see, this place is basically just an elaborate customer service center, except we’re all dressed much better, and as long as you can keep the customers happy, then you’ll be fine.

CALVIN:

What about the sales?

MARK:

Most people prefer to be aggressive and shove every product and service our bank offers down everyone’s throats, but me, I prefer to keep the customers satisfied and the sales come naturally. You need to let the customer come to their own conclusions. We are only here to provide information to help them make the best decision possible. The customer will be happy, you’ll save yourself a couple hospital bills, and the company will still make money, you won’t be the number one salesman but it will surely be enough to keep your job. Have you ever heard the expression ‘never take no for an answer?’

CALVIN:

Yeah.

MARK:

Well forget it, completely erase it from your memory, that’s how rapists think and we’re not here to rape anyone. Are you a rapist Calvin?

CALVIN:

Oh God no!

MARK:

Well that’s good because I’ve got to tell you, I’m not comfortable working in close quarters with a rapist. But anyway, over the time I’ve been here, I’ve altered the phrase to ‘never take maybe for an answer.’

CALVIN:

Maybe?

MARK:

Yes, maybe. You see, maybe usually means probably, the customer just needs a little more information to make an educated decision, and that’s what I do. I provide a stress free, educated environment for everyone that contacts me.

CALVIN:

That makes a lot of sense. Why don’t more people act like that?

MARK:

Because I don’t make many sales this way. If the customer doesn’t feel pressured then they don’t feel like they need whatever it is you’re trying to sell. They need to believe that they need whatever it is your talking, and in a pressure free environment, the need disappears. So while my commission checks are smaller I like to believe my soul remains intact for not selling someone something they definitely do not need.

CALVIN:

Morals over money.

MARK:

Exactly. I think we’re going to get along. Let me ask you something, you get high?

CALVIN:

Um, what? Like, on drugs?

MARK:

Well I’m not talking about getting high on life. Yeah bro, like weed.

CALVIN:

Um, yeah, sorry, should we be talking about this here? I mean, someone could hear us.

MARK:

(Chuckling)

No one cares about that here. Didn’t you think it was weird that you didn’t have to take a drug test?

CALVIN:

I guess I never really thought about it.

MARK:

Like I said man, this is a stressful job, I don’t know a single person here that doesn’t do drugs, and we’re not just talking about weed bro, if you take a lap around the office you’ll come across at least a dozen people doing enough shit to stock a pharmacy, a pretty sketchy pharmacy, but you get the idea.

CALVIN:

You can’t be serious.

MARK:

Oh yes I can I’m willing to bet that half the people here right now are fucked up right now on any assortment of narcotics, and I suppose booze as well, but we don’t really count that around here.

CALVIN:

You don’t count alcohol?

MARK:

Of course not. Alcohol is categorized with coffee and water to these people. It’s just something to get you through the day.

CALVIN:

So, no one cares?

MARK:

Hell no! Here, watch this.

Mark stands up and peers over the crowded office and yells as loud as he possibly can.

MARK:

Hey Will! Will!

A man’s head pokes up through the crowd about twenty feet away.

WILL:

What do you want Mark?!

MARK:

(Shouting)

Do you want to get high at lunch with the new guy?

WILL:

No, I can’t, I have to work through lunch today. What about after work?

MARK:

Alright, sounds good bro, we’ll talk later!

Mark sits back down and sees Calvin, whose now slack jawed and speechless.

MARK:

So, want to get high after work?

Short- Sidelines

NOTE: This is another piece I found while I was searching through my old hard drive. This piece was written possibly in my freshman year of college and I wanted it to be a social commentary on how certain men choose sports to play a more important role in their lives than actual human relationships. Personally, I think this piece is rubbish, but I still get a kick out of reading my old writing.

FADE IN

INT. SIDELINES SPORTS BAR- EVENING

Countless television sets line every noticeable wall inside Sidelines Sports Bar. The walls are decorated with various sports memorabilia but it’s all barely visible under the dim lights, the entire establishment looks like the most depressing TGI Fridays ever concocted. The sound of various sports events and sports related talk shows are floating throughout the establishment. The bar almost has a light orange glow hovering above the patrons, like looking at the night sky in the city.

The only patrons inside are an eclectic assortment of grizzled regulars and old timers looking for the companionship of fellow alcoholics. At a table in the furthest corner of Sidelines sits two men, Marco and Julian, both are athletic twenty something frat boy types. Marco is tall and slender resembling a backup center for a minor league basketball team. Julian is bulky and overall terrifying, his face is stern, and his eyes are tired.

MARCO:

The Brewers lost again last night.

JULIAN:

Of course they did, how many is that now?

MARCO:

Nine straight.

JULIAN:

Jesus Christ.

MARCO:

Yep, it’s a sad day. Just think, about a month ago they were in a position for a playoff spot.

JULIAN:

Don’t remind me.

MARCO:

Really gets you ready for basketball season huh?

JULIAN:

I’m beginning to think you like it when I kick your ass.

MARCO:

Hey, I’m just as upset as you are.

JULIAN:

Are you though?

MARCO:

Oh sure, I just cope differently than you.

JULIAN:

How so?

MARCO:

Well, I like to heal my wounds with some good natured jokes, and you like to drink yourself into a coma.

JULIAN:

Your point?

MARCO:

No point, I only mention it as a curious party.

JULIAN:

Is this your way of telling me I drink too much?

MARCO:

Not necessarily, this is just me mentioning that The Brewers lost again last night. You can process that information however you see fit.

JULIAN:

But why did you have bring The Bucks into this conversation? You know how I feel about them.

MARCO:

You’re right, that was a cheap shot and I apologize, but seriously though, what about The Bucks?

JULIAN:

I swear to God…

Before Julian can finish his sentence the waitress approaches their table.

WAITRESS:

Can I get you boys anything else?

MARCO:

Well, I’d love another whiskey, and you may as well leave the whole bottle for this guy here, he’s not having such a great day.

WAITRESS:

Oh that’s a shame, is there anything I can do to help?

MARCO:

Not unless you know any good pitchers.

WAITRESS:

What?

MARCO:

What do you think Jules, you think this girl can win The Brewers a pennant?

Without saying a word, Julian glances out of the corner of his eyes at the waitress, scoffs, and looks away.

WAITRESS:

Were you boys talking about The Brewers?

MARCO:

Why yes we were, that’s very perceptive of you.

WAITRESS:

Yeah, someone was saying they weren’t doing too good, that’s a real shame.

JULIAN:

Keep walking.

WAITRESS:

Excuse me?

Julian turns his head and peers into the waitresses’ eyes with a look of indescribable intensity while Marco attempts to stifle his laughter.

JULIAN:

Keep walking, you can’t handle this conversation.

The waitress gets offended and stomps away in a rage. Marco yells after her with a hysterical grin on his face.

MARCO:

Wait! Can I get my drink?!  That’s a real shame man, you probably could’ve gotten that girl’s number.

JULIAN:

Who cares? Women like that only act flirtatious as a means of getting bigger tips. Deception takes many forms.

MARCO:

You’re just bitter about The Brewers.

JULIAN:

I am indeed upset regarding their current position, but that has nothing to do with my distaste of professional flirtation. The two topics exist separately yet simultaneously.

MARCO: So you’re telling me you would’ve reacted the exact same way if The Brewers were still number one?

JULIAN:

Absolutely.

MARCO:

You are such a liar.

JULIAN:

How so?

MARCO:

You don’t care that she was flirting with us. You only care about The Brewers because that’s all you’ve talked about tonight. The success or failure of whatever sports team that’s currently relevant determines your mood for the given season until we move on to the next sport. Your emotions are circumstantial and dependent upon an issue that ultimately has nothing to do with you.

JULIAN:

You act like I should apologize for being a fan. You need to take a look around, the person you described, also describes everyone in this bar and the majority fans around the world. Have you ever seen a soccer riot? That shit gets real quick. So don’t you dare single me out for doing something that’s occurring across the globe.

MARCO:

Just because it’s prolific doesn’t mean it’s rational.

JULIAN:

Life’s not rational.

MARCO:

Fair enough, but this is something that you have control over. Think about this, what if you got that girl’s number? And what if the two of you went on a date and had an amazing time and then this occurred for years until you decided to settle down? You could very well be missing the opportunity of a lifetime simply because The Brewers always play like shit. You are consciously choosing to be miserable for eternity.

JULIAN:

That’s absurd. You can’t introduce these grandiose hypotheticals into a conversation founded on facts. There’s no logic in your argument. The Brewers are playing poorly, I’m upset by this fact, and that’s all that we can deduce from the provided variables, A plus B equals C.

MARCO:

How was your last relationship?

JULIAN:

What?

MARCO:

Your last relationship, the one with Karen, how was it?

JULIAN:

Normal I suppose. How is any of this relevant?

MARCO:

Because from what I remember, she dumped you, or am I getting that wrong?

JULIAN:

You’re wrong.

MARCO:

How so?

JULAIN:

It was mutual. We weren’t happy so we ended things, that’s all there is to it.

MARCO:

You sure about that? Because word on the street she left you because you weren’t very receptive, some people even said the two of you were going to couples therapy, but I don’t know if I necessarily believe that part.

JULIAN:

We may or may not have a attended a few sessions to better our relationship.

MARCO: And how did that work out?

JULIAN:

We broke up after three sessions.

MARCO:

And what exactly did you two talk about in these sessions?

Julian hesitates before responding. He plays with his drink glass for a few seconds while staring emotionlessly at the table.

JULIAN:

According to her, I didn’t give her enough attention.

MARCO:

Fascinating, and at any point did she mention something about you having a problem with sports?

JULIAN:

It may have come up.

MARCO:

A plus B equals one failed relationship.

JULIAN:

Alright, since you seem to be the resident love expert, tell me about your last relationship, the one with Melissa.

MARCO:

Not much to tell.

JULIAN:

There’s always something to tell.

MARCO:

We mostly spent our days copulating and listening to House music.

JULIAN:

Well at least she had a terrible taste in music.

MARCO:

She doesn’t count.

JULIAN:

And why not?

MARCO:

Because that wasn’t a real relationship. She wasn’t my girlfriend and we didn’t break up because I wasn’t there for her. We got bored and stopped seeing each other, simple as that.

JULIAN:

Why do I have the feeling that the majority of your relationships have been this way?

MARCO:

They may or may not have followed a pattern similar to this.

JULIAN:

So essentially, you’re judging me on a topic that you know nothing about. Shall I call my brother? He’s a mechanic, maybe you’d like to tell him how to fix a car.

MARCO:

I don’t need to be in a relationship to see that you’re being held back by your love affair with professional sports.

JULIAN:

Held back?

MARCO:

Yes, held back.

JULIAN:

I’ll show you held back.

Julian stands up at the table and walks over to the bar. The waitress is behind the counter cleaning a glass with a white rag. Julian approaches her and starts talking.

JULIAN:

Hey.

WAITRESS:

(Timidly smiles back)

JULIAN:

Listen, I’m sorry about before, I didn’t mean to yell at you. Shit gets stressful in my life this time of year and I have no idea how to deal with these emotions so I come to places like this and talk to people like my idiot friend over there in hopes of momentarily forgetting that my life sucks. You look like an awesome girl and you don’t deserve to be treated like that.

Julian starts to walk back to the table.

WAITRESS:

Hey hold on a second.

Julian turns around. The waitress grabs his hand and holds a pen in her other hand. She writes her phone number on his palm.

WAITRESS:

Just in case you ever need someone to talk to.

They both smile at each other and Julian returns to the table while she returns to cleaning the glasses. Julian sits at the table with Marco with a look of bewilderment.

MARCO:

You ready to talk about The Bucks now?

FADE OUT

Short- Somewhat Mean Streets

NOTE: The following piece I find quite hilarious. I wrote this when I was about sixteen, maybe seventeen. I was digging around on an old external hard drive from high school and I found this piece; I’ll probably upload a few more once I’ve had the time to search through everything. This was written for a creative writing class, and the only thing I have altered is the formatting (the original version was atrocious). The part I find most comical is the fact that I named this piece “Mean Streets” I had no idea there was a movie with that name already (I was a clueless teenager).

INT: CRIME SCENE- NIGHT

The rain has started to slow down outside. As of right now, it is merely a rhythmic patter of solid drops on the windows of a ransacked apartment. Detective Camron Rhodes has to step under the crime scene tape stretching across the entryway as he steps into the apartment. Detective Rhodes is a bulky mid-forties cop resembling something one would see in an old pulp magazine. His face is tired and his skin resembles a well-worn baseball glove. He stops for a moment to examine the carnage inside the apartment. Every inch of the floor is covered in trash and several shards of shattered objects. He notices a tipped over couch in the corner of the room with a heavy blood trail leading into the kitchen, the trail is being examined by two forensics investigators. Detective Rhodes is approached by Officer Glenn Jones, an enthusiastic young man in his late twenties.

GLENN:

It’s a real mess in here Detective.

CAMRON:

What happened?

GLENN:

From what we can tell, it looks like a break in. The window in the victim’s bedroom is shattered and the state of the  apartment shows numerous signs of a struggle.

CAMRON:

Have we got an ID on the victim?

GLENN:

Yes sir, the victim is one, Jason Smith, we were able to locate his wallet inside his pocket.

CAMRON:

It was on his person?

GLENN:

Yes sir.

CAMRON:

What was in it?

GLENN:

A driver’s license, some business cards, a credit card, and forty one dollars in cash.

CAMRON:

The money and credit card was still in the wallet?

GLENN:

Yes sir.

CAMRON:

Why would someone bother breaking in if they weren’t going to steal anything?

GLENN:

That’s not even the weird part sir, look at this.

Glenn leads Camron over to the body. The body is heavily mutilated and covered in blood; there are countless cuts along the victim’s entire face and torso. Camron is approached by the lead forensics investigator Curtis Johnson. Curtis is the oldest person in the room and the only person that looks more grizzled than Camron.

CURTIS:

Evening Detective, please forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.

CAMRON:

What have you got for me Curtis?

CURTIS:

It’s pretty gruesome. The victim has dozens of scratches along his face and chest. The debris around the apartment suggests there was a struggle but our friend here wasn’t strong enough to fight off the assailant for too long. The victim was dragged down right here and here’s where it gets strange, the assailant took several bites out of the victim throughout his torso and up and down his arms.

GLENN:

He bit him?

CURTIS:

Yes, but these aren’t just little bites, as you can see, the assailant took several chunks of skin and muscle off the victim.

GLENN:

What does this mean?

CURTIS:

It means you’re looking for one crazy son of a bitch.

Camron notices a bloody trail of footprints leading away from the body and into the bedroom.

CAMRON:

What can you tell me about these footprints?

CURTIS:

The assailant’s obviously, they lead back to the shattered window in the bedroom and go down to the alley outside. You notice anything odd about the footprints detective?

CAMRON:

Was he barefoot?

CURTIS:

Good job detective, yes he was indeed barefoot.

CAMRON:

Has anyone gone down to the alley yet?

CURTIS:

Not yet, that was going to be my next stop when I was done in here.

CAMRON:

Would you mind if I went down there right now and checked it out?

CURTIS:

Be my guest detective, we’ll compare notes after, maybe you’ll save me some work tonight.

CAMRON:

I always love being a team player.

Camron follows the bloody footprints into the bedroom and over to the shattered window. Glass shards line the floor inside the bedroom. Camron carefully climbs out the window onto the fire escape. Rain gently beats against the top of his head and shoulders as he climbs the ladder down onto the alley below the apartment. The rain has washed away most of the blood from the concrete but fortunately, a few scattered spots have soaked into the pavement leading further into the alley away from the street. Camron follows the tracks behind the building.

The rear of the apartment building is pitch black so Camron turns on his flash light. He can hear the vague sounds of grunting in the distance followed by appears to be a mysterious sloshing sound, as if someone is attempting to chew through a wet towel. He follows the sound further into the alley, it grows louder with every step and the blood along the ground gets thicker. Eventually, the noise stops. Camron slides his flashlight along the ground and flashes it on a man crouching over another disfigured body roughly twenty feet away.

The man is staring back with two protruding black eyes, his entire body is covered in a suit of blood. Camron tries to prevent himself from screaming; he isn’t capable of conjuring any sound whatsoever. His breathing becomes heavy. The blood covered man starts running towards Camron. Camron tries to pull his gun but the man is simply too fast. Within seconds everything is black.

FADE OUT