You may be interested in having a look at the sitcom short I posted for the sitcom competition thing who's name escapes me:
MOUNT PLEASANT (SHORT)
SCENE 1. ARCHIVE FOOTAGE CLIPS
CLIPS FROM THE FALKLANDS WAR ARE SHOWN
NARRATOR: (VO)
Friday the second of April, nineteen-eighty two. Argentina begins the invasion and occupation of the Falkland Islands. Seventy-four days and nearly one thousand deaths later, the Argentine soldiers surrender and retreat. An uneasy peace falls across the islands. The British Sovereignty decides a military presence is required permanently to maintain that peace and to protect those that live there. Eight years later, and although the presence has dwindled, a small group of the very best of Her Royal Majesty's troops remain.
CUT TO:
SCENE 2. INT. OFFICE – DAY 1 [08.30]
PRIVATE FLATTERY IS SAT DOWN AT THE TABLE, MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF MATCHES. LIEUTENANT CUNNINGTON IS READING THE NEWS PAPER
CUNNINGTON:
Can you believe it? The Leaning Tower of Pisa has been leaning quite happily since 1173, and now they've decided it's dangerous. I know the Italian bureaucratic system is slow, but this goes to a whole other level of political incompetence. What are they going to say next? The Eiffel Tower is too pointy, put a cork on it? The pyramids have sharp edges? Buckingham Palace contains nuts?
FLATTERY GLUES A MATCHSTICK IN PLACE
CUNNINGTON:
Flattery, are you listening?
FLATTERY GLANCES UP FOR A SECOND
FLATTERY:
Uh, yes, of course sir, Lieutenant Cunnington sir. Your nuts have sharp edges sir.
CUNNINGTON STOPS READING AND GLARES AT FLATTERY
CUNNINGTON:
Flattery, what are you doing?
FLATTERY:
I'm making a matchstick model sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Since you have the imagination and creativity of the person who invented the colour beige, dare I ask – what is it a model of?
FLATTERY:
A matchstick sir.
CUNNINGTON:
A matchstick.
FLATTERY:
That's right sir. I wanted to make a model out of matchsticks, but I couldn't think what of. My only inspiration was a pile of matches - and then it hit me!
CUNNINGTON:
If you continue not paying attention when I'm talking to you that isn't going to be the only thing that hits you.
FLATTERY:
A man has to have his hobbies sir, you can't deny that.
CUNNINGTON:
I thought you collected something as a hobby?
FLATTERY:
I do sir. Clippings sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Newspaper clippings?
FLATTERY:
No sir, toenail clippings.
CUNNINGTON:
Revolting. Where do you keep them?
FLATTERY
In my locker with my bogey collection.
CUNNINGTON GOES BACK TO HIS PAPER. HE PULLS A PEN OUT OF HIS TOP POCKET
CUNNINGTON:
Change the subject before I throw up.
FLATTERY:
I collect that too sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Let's have a look at the crossword puzzle. We'll start with an easy one. Four letters, plural of 'cat'. I'll let you do that one Flattery.
FLATTERY:
Oh, easy. Spade.
CUNNINGTON:
No, Flattery, no. Let me rephrase the clue for you. 'Garden tool for shovelling soil.'
FLATTERY:
Ohhhhh, I get it. Cats.
CUNNINGTON:
Very good! Something at last that your mother can be truly proud of. That must knock your previous best of being the only child in your family with the correct number of fingers right off the top spot.
FLATTERY:
I think I'm getting the hang of this. Let me try another one sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Anything for a laugh. Ok, how about this one. Ten letters, ends with a C and has an H as the second letter. The clue is, 'to be emotionally outward.' Even I'm struggling with this one.
FLATTERY:
Charismatic.
CUNNINGTON:
I beg your pardon?
FLATTERY:
The answer is charismatic sir.
CUNNINGTON:
How in God's name did you get that? Have you been eating dictionaries again?
FLATTERY:
It was easy sir. The only words I can think of that could work with the clue are enigmatic, alluring and charismatic. Only the last one fits sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Well blow me down with a sloppy wet fart. You're a genius!
FLATTERY:
I am sir?
CUNNINGTON:
No. Not really.
THE PHONE RINGS. CUNNINGTON GETS UP AND ANSWERS IT
CUNNINGTON:
Good morning, the Bat Cave, Alfred speaking? Yes? Yes sir. At once sir. Very good sir. No I don't think you look fat sir. Your moustache makes you look very dignified sir. Then she's a silly woman and you're too good for her. Ok then. Bye bye now sir. No you hang up. No you hang up! Sir! Oh, he's gone…
CUNNINGTON'S SMILE DROPS AND HE LOOKS DEPRESSED
FLATTERY:
Who was that sir?
CUNNINGTON:
It was the Major. He says we've been transferred to the Gulf.
FLATTERY:
Oh good, I like golf.
CUNNINGTON:
Firstly, it's Gulf, not golf, and secondly, the closest you have ever come to golfing is using the sports pages as toilet roll. The Gulf is an area of desert where there is an actual war on. And where there is an actual war, there is actual killing.
FLATTERY:
Right.
CUNNINGTON:
Do you get it now?
FLATTERY:
Yes. No.
CUNNINGTON:
Where there is actual killing, I might actually be killed. And I have a few things I'd like to do before I snuff it. Living, for example.
FLATTERY:
But that's terrible!
CUNNINGTON:
Exactly, Flattery, exactly.
FLATTERY:
You can't play golf in sand!
CUNNINGTON:
Flattery, I don't know which is thicker, you, or the hull of the HMS Intrepid. It's probably you.
FLATTERY:
I thought you hated it here and wanted to go somewhere else?
CUNNINGTON:
I'd rather stay here and moan about being bored than become another few minutes of Arabic target practice. What to do, what to do, what to do?
FLATTERY:
Whenever I got into a sticky situation as a boy, my mum always used to say to me, 'If you didn't keep playing with it, you wouldn't be in this mess.'
CUNNINGTON:
That's disgusting. And yet it's given me an idea.
FLATTERY:
Be careful sir. Apparently it makes you go blind.
CUNNINGTON:
With a face like yours to look at all day Flattery, that isn't as unappealing an idea is it sounds. To avoid being transferred, we need to be in such a condition that we can't be transferred.
FLATTERY:
Like an injury or something sir?
CUNNINGTON:
Exactly, Flattery, exactly. Something convincing.
CUNNINGTON TURNS AND LOOKS RIGHT AT FLATTERY AND SMILES
CUNNINGTON:
Hand me your service pistol Flattery.
FLATTERY REACHES TO HIS BELT AND PULLS OUT THE PISTOL. HE HANDS IT TO CUNNINGTON
CUNNINGTON:
A bullet in the foot ought to do the trick.
FLATTERY:
Are you going to try it in your foot first sir?
CUNNINGTON:
Oh of course Flattery. I always sacrifice my own safety for the safety of my men.
CUNNINGTON STANDS UP AND AIMS AT HIS OWN FOOT. HE COCKS THE PISTOL. AT THE LAST SECOND HE AIMS AT FLATTERY'S FOOT AND PULLS THE TRIGGER. FLATTERY FALLS OFF HIS CHAIR
CUNNINGTON:
Whoops. Missed.
CUT TO:
SCENE 3. INT. HOSPITAL – DAY 1 [13.00]
FLATTERY IS LYING IN A HOSPITAL BED WITH A BANDAGED FOOT. CUNNINGTON ENTERS
FLATTERY:
Afternoon sir.
CUNNINGTON:
Yes, good afternoon Flattery. Terribly sorry about that by the way. I must have twitched.
FLATTERY:
It's ok sir. The Major came and visited me earlier and said I would have to miss out on the transfer.
CUNNINGTON:
Did he ask how it happened?
FLATTERY:
Yes sir.
CUNNINGTON:
And? What did you tell him?
FLATTERY:
I told him I was cleaning it and it went off sir.
CUNNINGTON:
You told the Major that you were cleaning a loaded, cocked pistol, pointed at your foot, when your finger slipped round the finger guard, knocked off the safety catch and pulled the trigger?
FLATTERY:
Yeah.
CUNNINGTON:
And he believed that?
FLATTERY:
Oh yes sir. Apparently it's been happening a lot with the latest transferees sir. Everybody is so excited about going out there that they've been getting all their kit ready with complete disregard for their own safety sir.
CUNNGINTON:
I see. I suppose I had better find some other way of injuring myself then or it might look suspicious.
CUT TO:
SCENE 4. INT. MESS HALL – DAY 1 [14.30]
CUNNINGTON IS SAT AT A TABLE. ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TABLE IS A BIG KITCHEN KNIFE. HE SITS AND STARES AT IT
CUNNINGTON:
It's just you and me, knife. And we're about to have a little accident.
CUNNINGTON STANDS UP AND PICKS UP THE KNIFE. HE HOLDS IT HANDLE DOWN, POINT UP ON THE TABLE. HE JUMPS TOWARDS IT A BIT TRYING TO GUAGE WHAT WOULD BE THE BEST WAY TO FALL ON IT
CUNNINGTON:
That might be a little drastic.
HE SITS DOWN AGAIN, STILL HOLDING THE KNIFE. HE HOLDS UP THE KNIFE IN ONE HAND AND LIFTS THE OTHER UP NEXT TO. HIS HEAD TURNS FROM SIDE TO SIDE AS HE LOOKS BETWEEN THE KNIFE AND HIS HAND. HE SIGHS A LONG, LOUD SIGH. HE PUTS HIS HAND ON THE TABLE AND HOLDS THE KNIFE INCHES ABOVE THE TIP OF HIS THUMB. HE LIFTS THE KNIFE UP HIGH ABOVE HIS HEAD AND SCREWS HIS EYES SHUT
FLATTERY ENTERS
FLATTERY:
Hello sir!
CUNNINGTON JUMPS AND DROPS THE KNIFE INTO HIS LEG
CUNNINGTON:
Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
CUNNINGTON CLUTCHES HIS LEG
FLATTERY:
I've just got back from the hospital sir. By the way, the Major asked me to tell you that if anyone else has an accident, then you must arrest them and stick them on a transport to the Gulf immediately.
CUNNINGTON STOPS DEAD AND LOOKS AT FLATTERY
CUNNINGTON:
What?
FLATTERY:
Are you all right sir?
CUNNINGTON:
No, Flattery, I'm not.
FLATTERY:
You've got a knife in your leg sir.
FLATTERY LAUGHS
FLATTERY:
That's stupid!
CUNNGINTON GROWLS. HE PULLS THE KNIFE FROM HIS LEG AND GLARES AT FLATTERY WHO IS STILL LAUGHING
CUT TO:
SCENE 5. INT. HOSPITAL – DAY 1 [15.00]
CUNNINGTON AND FLATTERY ARE BOTH LYING IN HOSPITAL BEDS AND ARE COVERED IN BANDAGES. FLATTERY IS LOOKING CHEERY AND CUNNINGTON IS VERY ANGRY, LOOKING STRAIGHT AHEAD AND NOT MOVING. A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE PASS AS FLATTERY THINKS OF SOMETHING TO SAY
FLATTERY:
I suppose it's not all bad sir.
CUNNINGTON IGNORES HIM
FLATTERY:
Things could be worse.
THE PHONE ON THE BEDSIDE CABINET IN BETWEEN THEIR BEDS RINGS. CUNNINGTON GLARES AT FLATTERY AS HE PICKS IT UP
CUNNINGTON:
What?
CUNNINGTON LOOKS WORRIED
CUNNINGTON:
Oh! Sorry sir. Yes sir. Of course sir. Much better, thank you sir. Oh no, I don't think that will be necessary sir, it was a genuine accident. Yes sir, that's right sir. Yes, I was cleaning it and it went off sir. Yes sir, both of us. Several times, yes sir. I will be more careful next time sir, thank you. Good bye sir. Bye.
CUNNINGTON HANGS UP AND LOOKS CONCERNED
CUNNINGTON:
The major wants us on the next plane out of here or we're screwed worse than a piece of flat-pack furniture.
FLATTERY:
So that's it then. We're going to the Gulf. I've never even heard of it; is it a new course?
CUNNINGTON:
There is no golf, there is no fun, and there is no point. We'll be shot dead quicker than you can say, 'fore'.
CUNNINGTON'S EYES LIGHT UP
CUNNINGTON:
Unless…!
CUT TO:
SCENE 6. INT. CRATE – DAY 2 [10.30]
CUNNINGTON AND FLATTERY ARE IN THE DARK
FLATTERY:
Excellent plan to hide in this storage crate sir!
CUNNINGTON:
I know Flattery, and as soon as they wonder where we are, it'll be too late. They'll all be getting sand in their underpants and bullets in their chests, whilst we have the run of the base back here.
FLATTERY:
Can I rename the island sir?
CUNNINGTON:
I don't see why not, there's no one else here to be bothered about it now. What are you going to call it?
FLATTERY:
Steve.
CUNNINGTON:
Steve?
FLATTERY:
That's right sir. After my uncle.
CUNNINGTON:
Whose name was Steve?
FLATTERY:
That's right sir, how did you know?
CUNNGINTON:
Just a lucky guess I suppose.
A MOMENT OF SILENCE PASSES
CUNNINGTON:
Flattery - have you farted?
FLATTERY:
Sorry sir. I've been holding it for hours.
CUNNINGTON:
Promise me you won't follow through, Flattery.
FLATTERY:
I can't promise anything sir. How much longer do we need to be in here?
CUNNINGTON:
Just long enough so that we know the coast is clear. And not so long that we end up with asphyxiation from your fumes.
'FOUR HOURS LATER'
FLATTERY:
I spy with my little eye, something beginning with B.
CUNNINGTON:
Is it - black?
FLATTERY:
You got it again! Your turn sir.
CUNNINGTON:
So far we've done dark, we've done shadow and we've done black. I don't think there are any more things to spy.
FLATTERY:
Ok sir, how about a different game then. I feel with my little finger, something beginning with-
CUNNINGTON:
Argh! Get your hands off me! Right, I've had enough. Let's get out of here.
CUNNINGTON LIFTS THE LID OF THE CRATE UP A BIT AND PEERS THROUGH THE GAP
CUNNINGTON:
I think we're clear.
CUNNGINTON PUSHES THE LID OFF AND THEY BOTH STAND UP. THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT IN A MAKESHIFT ARMY BASE
CUNNINGTON:
Shi-
END