EXT. WOODED AREA - DAY
JAMES AND SARAH STAND NEXT TO A THICKET. OTHER PEOPLE ARE LOOKING IN THE BUSHES NEARBY.
SARAH
(DESPERATE) We're not going to find him alive are we?
JAMES
Don't say that Sarah! We've only been looking for a week.
SARAH
I don't...I just don't think we're going to...(SHE FALLS IN TO JAMES' ARMS AND SOBS)
SUDDENLY LOUD DANCE MUSIC IS HEARD APPROACHING. PETE AND LARS COME IN TO SHOT, THEY ARE A PAIR OF DESPERATE-LOOKING CLUBBERS (LATE 30s), WITH DAYGLO PAINT STREAKED OVER THEIR FACES. SARAH IS AGHAST.
JAMES
(SHOUTS OVER MUSIC) What in god's name are you doing?!
LARS AND PETE DANCE SUGGESTIVELY UP AGAINST ONE ANOTHER TO THE LOUD MUSIC. JAMES SNATCHES THE GHETTO BLASTER AND TURNS OFF THE MUSIC.
LARS
Whoa, Chief Superintendent Boring of the fun police, what are you up to?!
JAMES
That's what I just asked you idiots!
PETE
Isn't it obvious? (HE POINTS TO THEIR CLUBBING CLOTHES)
JAMES
No.
LARS
We're here for the search PARTY! (DANCES WITH PETE) Woop, woop, woop!
JAMES
No, this is the search party. (HE POINTS TO THE PEOPLE LOOKING IN THE BUSHES)
PETE
So where's D.J. Freddie Smith?
JAMES
Freddie isn't a D.J. he's our ten year old son and he's gone missing, that's why we're searching for him!
LARS
But we got this flier. (HOLDS IT UP) 'Search party. 3 o'clock on the far field'. And in the picture he's wearing super cool, big D.J. headphones!
SARAH
They're not headphones they were his favourite ear muffs! (RESUMES SOBBING)
JAMES
Look, you're upsetting my wife; just leave!
PETE
Well, now we're here we'll help you! (BEATBOXES) Boom, chick, boom, chick!
JAMES
Fine, we haven't checked the copse over there yet. But don't get in people's way!
LARS
Cool!
LARS AND PETER WALK OFF.
JAMES
(SHAKING HEAD) I can't believe they thought this was an actual party! Hopefully, I won't regret letting them...
ALL OF A SUDDEN THERE IS AN INTERMITTENT LOUD WHISTLE. SARAH SHOOTS OUT FROM JAMES' CHEST.
SARAH
Freddie?! Have you found Freddie?!
CUT TO:
LARS BLOWING ON HIS PARTY WHISTLE WHILST PETE WRITHES; THEY TURN AROUND AND PUT THEIR HANDS UP APOLGOGETICALLY.
THE END