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

Advertisements

Short- One Sided

NOTE: This is another extremely short script I wrote awhile back that I decided to share. Not a lot to say about this one. I remember I wanted to do something revolving around the theme of “Identity.” This is a piece I’ve wanted to revisit for quite some time, so please share your opinions and let me know what you think.

FADE IN

INT. BATHROOM- NIGHT

A light flicks on illuminating a small, disheveled, apartment bathroom. The cheap tile floors are covered with stacks of old newspapers and various magazines, and the rim around the tub and sink is covered in a thick layer of dust. A man stumbles into his bathroom and leans over his sink throwing more periodicals onto the floor. He hangs his head over the sink breathing heavily as his shoulders slowly rise and fall with every breath. He lifts his head and stares at his face in the mirror above the sink. His hair is a tussled mess of unruly blonde strands and his eyes are dark and sunken into his skull; he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. He continues to stare emotionlessly at his reflection.

MAN:

I fucking hate you.

His expression remains one of bored neutrality as he reaches into one of the bathroom drawers and pulls out a bottle of whiskey, he sets it on the counter in front of him and returns his gaze to his reflection.

MAN:

I know this is what you want. Don’t even try lying to me you conniving mother fucker. We both know how fucking amazing this would taste right now. You would kill to have this roll down the back of your throat like candy flavored lubricant. But it’s so much more than that. You don’t want this, you fucking need this. This bottle represents your entire life source. You’re a parasite, and this bottle is a rotting carcass. So, what’s your choice?

The man returns to staring at his reflection in silence.

MAN:

(Chuckles)

You’ve really got nothing to say? Now, in your most dire moment, you have run out of things to say? Well that’s a fucking first.

The man grabs the neck of the bottle and rips the cap off. He brings the bottle to his lips, smelling the whiskey inside, he stops and looks back at his reflection still clutching the bottle.

MAN:

This is what you want. This is what you’ve always wanted. I guess there’s no point right? You’ve got no one in your life, you live alone, and half the people your work with don’t even know your fucking name. Shit man, it could be days before anyone finds your body. So answer me this, why the fuck not?

The man’s eyes widen and his nostrils begin to flare as he starts screaming at his reflection.

MAN:

Answer me right now go dammit! Don’t you dare sit there in silence thinking you’re somehow superior to me! You’re fucking weak! I dare you, I double dare you mother fucker take a drink right now! I know this is what you want!

The man’s hand attempts to bring the bottle to his lips but his hand is quivering so badly he has to set the bottle down. Exhaustedly, the man leans over the counter again and tilts his head towards his reflection.

MAN:

People have a nasty habit of assuming nightmares only occur when we’re asleep, but I know what you’re going through feels like a constant nightmare that you can never awake from, and honestly, you’re right. This life can get exhausting and it sucks that you have to go through all of this alone, and as much as I wish and pray that I could say things will get better, they rarely ever do. So really, the only semblance of supportive words I can provide are: Pull the trigger and the nightmare stops.

FADE OUT

Short- Customer

NOTE: This is a short screenplay I wrote a while back that was published in a small literary journal in Minnesota . I’ve always enjoyed this piece because my main inspiration is the song “Customer” by The Replacements, a band I’ve admired for a very long time.

“Customer”

FADE IN

INT. STOP N GO CONVENIENCE STORE- AFTERNOON

The fluorescently lit interior of the Stop N Go resembles the most mundane shopping establishment ever conceived. Aisles are lined with overly processed foods that have been on the shelves since the store was erected. Behind the counter stands a very bored looking young woman with excessive makeup consisting exclusively of dark shades staring emotionlessly at a magazine. The only other person in the entire establishment is Mark. His hands are quivering and he’s trying to make it seem obvious that he’s staring at the girl behind the counter. Any time her head shifts even remotely Mark’s eyes go back to examining whatever junk food is in his hands. After several minutes of this torturous staring contest Mark gathers up the courage to check out. He has in his hands a hunting magazine and a lighter. Mark does not hunt and the lighter is for his roommate. The woman behind the counter doesn’t even make eye contact as she rings up his two items.

DREAM GIRL:

That’ll be eight dollars and seventy five cents.

MARK:

(No response)

Mark’s dream girl glances up at him, he can tell she’s getting confused. Mark begins to fumble his hands around inside his pockets dropping various coins, his cell phone, and his wallet on the counter. He hurriedly scrambles to shove everything back inside his pocket but drops the change on the floor. He leaves the change, grabs his credit card and hands it to his dream girl. The two of them stand in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as they await for Mark’s card to be approved.

Inside Mark’s mind he’s relentlessly beating himself up. She hands him his card and speed walks out the front door. He walks inside his house, tosses his roommate Calvin the new lighter and Mark goes straight into his bedroom and collapses face first onto his bed.

INT. CALVIN AND MARK’S APARTMENT- AFTERNOON- THE NEXT DAY

A cool breeze blows through the open windows of Calvin and Mark’s apartment as they sit together on their tattered couch staring blankly at their flat screen television. Both of their faces have expressions of extreme boredom as Mark flips through every single channel attempting to find something of even remote interest while Calvin lights a cigarette. Both their expressions stay exactly the same as the stare emotionlessly at the TV. There’s never anything decent on. Calvin is the first to break the uncomfortable silence.

CALVIN:

Want to get high?

MARK:

Sometimes you sound like an after school special.

CALVIN:

What do you mean?

MARK:

We have nothing better to do with our time so as a remedy for our boring lives we must resort to drugs to make our lives seem fun and meaningful.

CALVIN:

That’s a lot to gather from one harmless question.

MARK:

Is it harmless?

CALVIN:

I like to believe so.

MARK:

That’s because you’re too high to know when something’s a bad idea.

CALVIN:

We smoke every day, I don’t see why this is suddenly an issue.

MARK:

When does it get to be too much, you know? I mean what do we do here?

CALVIN:

Right now I’d like to get high.

MARK:

It’s 2 o’clock.

CALVIN:

So?

MARK:

So! Isn’t it somewhat sad that the entirety of your day is centered on getting high?

CALVIN:

I wouldn’t say it’s the center of my day, just a very big part. Drugs are fun.

MARK:

You’re a true role model.

CALVIN:

Thank you.

(A couple seconds of awkward silence return, until Calvin speaks once again)

CALVIN:

So are you saying no to getting high?

(Cut to Mark taking a drag from a joint next to Calvin on the couch)

MARK:

I’m serious though, we really need to cut this shit out.

CALVIN:

Oh yeah, I completely agree.

INT. CALVIN AND MARK’S APARTMENT- TWO HOURS LATER

Calvin and Mark are still sitting in their exact same spots on the couch. Their living room has a vague yet mellow layer of smoke billowing throughout it as they both stare blankly at the home shopping network. Their eyes are red and slightly inflamed as if they’ve both suffered a serious allergy attack.

MARK:

Hey.

CALVIN:

(No response)

MARK:

Hey

(Nudges Calvin)

CALVIN:

What?

MARK:

Are you hungry?

CALVIN:

Not really, you?

MARK:

Yeah, I’m starving.

CALVIN:

When was the last time you ate anything?

MARK:

(Thinks for a minute)

I guess I haven’t, I slept till one, and then I’ve been out here since then.

CALVIN:

You should eat something.

MARK:

Yeah.

(Mark gets up and walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator door. He stares vacantly at the near barren interior of their pathetic food source)

MARK:

Hey.

CALVIN:

(No response)

MARK:

Hey!

CALVIN:

What?

MARK:

We don’t have any food.

CALVIN:

Really?

MARK:

Really.

CALVIN:

Well that’s a problem.

MARK:

No shit.

CALVIN:

We should do something about that.

MARK:

You think?

CALVIN:

Probably.

MARK:

Where should we go?

CALVIN:

How about the Stop-N-Go across the street?

MARK:

No I can’t go there.

CALVIN:

Why?

MARK:

(Returns to the couch)

I can’t.

CALVIN:

Yeah but why?

MARK:

Reasons.

CALVIN:

What reasons?

MARK:

I just can’t. Let’s just go to the market down the road.

CALVIN:

That’s a half mile away, I’m not walking that far, you may as well be asking me to run a marathon.

MARK:

I just don’t want people knowing I’m high.

CALVIN:

What people?

MARK:

You know, people. The kinds of people that go to stores.

CALVIN:

Is this about that chick?

MARK:

I assure you I don’t know what you’re talking about.

CALVIN:

Yeah! That’s it! You don’t want to be high in front of that weird Goth chick that works there.

MARK:

She’s far from Goth.

CALVIN:

Whatever, I’m right aren’t I.

MARK:

(No response)

CALVIN:

Your silence speaks volumes.

MARK:

Whatever man, can please just go somewhere else?

CALVIN:

No chance.

MARK:

Please?

CALVIN:

Nope. You need to conquer your fear of this girl. We go in there almost every day and I’m not about to take my business elsewhere because you can’t get over your irrational worries. Why not just ask her out?

MARK:

What if she says no? Then every time either of us would go in there it would be awkward.

CALVIN:

Well that’s a chance you’re going to have to take because it’s already awkward going in there now and watching you attempt to make small talk with her. Seriously bro, it’s painful.

MARK:

Whatever, you have no idea what you’re talking about.

CALVIN:

Listen, having a convenience store across the street is one of the main reasons why I wanted to get this place.

MARK:

Seriously?

CALVIN:

Sadly, yes. I have very low standards.

MARK:

Apparently.

CALVIN:

We’re going.

MARK:

We’re not going.

CALVIN:

We are going because we need food and you need to ask this girl out for your own sanity. Think about it, would you rather continue to stumble in there like a high idiot every day and wonder about what might happen, or would you rather be a man, take a chance and be the master of your own destiny?

MARK:

Will you shut up if I do it?

CALVIN:

Absolutely.

EXT. STOP-N-GO STOREFRONT- AFTERNOON

Mark and Calvin stop on the street corner just outside the store entrance. Mark stares at the store, his face is pale and he is visibly terrified.

CALVIN:

Moment of truth buddy.

MARK:

I changed my mind.

(Mark tries to run and run away, but he’s caught by Calvin)

CALVIN:

You’re not going anywhere. We came all this way and dammit we’re going to settle this right now. Now, do you want me to come in with you?

MARK:

Oh god no, that would be much worse.

CALVIN:

No problem, I’ll be right outside. It looks like you lucked out because she’s the only one in there. You ready?

MARK:

No. No part of me is ready for this.

CALVIN:

Well too bad, this is happening. Now get in there!

(Calvin shoves Mark towards the entrance)

CALVIN:

Don’t forget the food!

(He yells to Mark as he opens the front door, Mark frantically waves him off and gives him a murderous look)

Once inside, Mark notices his dream girl is indeed the only person in the entire building. She has a vague punk rock look, almost like she really enjoyed the music of The Clash in high school. Mark smiles and nods at her, she doesn’t pay any attention. Mark wanders over to the candy aisle and starts grabbing whatever looks tantalizing. He hears the bell ring for the front of the store and notices someone walk inside, Mark continues to look at random food items until the other person leaves. Mark slowly makes his way over to the soda coolers and starts frantically taking every kind of drink imaginable. His arms are now completely filled with miscellaneous snacks and beverages.

Mark drops all the food onto the counter in a heaping mass. He looks outside and sees Calvin staring directly at him with a devilish smirk on his face. Mark attempts to tell him to turn around but Calvin doesn’t listen.

DREAM GIRL:

That’ll be 35 dollars and 82 cents.

MARK:

(Nervously chuckles)

Sorry.

DREAM GIRL:

Would you like a couple bags?

MARK:

Yeah, that would be awesome.

(Hands her forty dollars and collects his change)

MARK:

Have a good one.

DREAM GIRL:

(Says nothing)

Mark starts walking towards the front door and stops. He looks out the window and sees Calvin giving him a death stare as if he can hear the entire interaction from outside. Mark sighs, turns around, and looks his dream girl in the eyes but she does not look back, in fact she doesn’t even notice him until he approaches her at the counter once again.

MARK:

Hey.

DREAM GIRL:

Yeah?

MARK:

This is going to sound really stupid, but I come in here all the time and I just have to ask this, but would you ever want to go out sometime?

DREAM GIRL:

(Without hesitation)

No.

MARK:

Oh… would you like to elaborate on why?

DREAM GIRL:

No.

MARK:

(Pauses)

Alright, you have a great day.

Mark steps outside and is met with Calvin wrapping his arm around Mark’s shoulders. Neither one of them says anything for about a minute until Calvin breaks the silence.

CALVIN:

Hey man, let’s go get high.