INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
The living room is awful, something a victim of How Clean Is Your House? could be ashamed of.
A woman, dressed smartly in a business suit, awkwardly makes her way through the filthy living room, climbing over the messy obstacles in her path.
She is followed by a slobbish, fat woman, who directs her to take a seat.
The smartly dressed woman, perches herself on the edge of the sofa. Her name is Suzie.
The other woman, sits opposite in an old armchair. She is called Butty.
SUZIE:
You have a wonderful home.
Butty looks around, unimpressed.
SUZIE:
How long have you lived here?
Butty kicks over a tall stack of Hello! magazines, revealing the one at the bottom, which reads "Jan 1995".
Suzie almost strains herself trying to disguise her disgust with a cheerful and friendly front.
SUZIE:
Wow, you have a lot of magazines. You must love reading?
BUTTY:
I've read everything from Charles Dickens to Katie Price. And you know what?
Suzie leans in with anticipation.
BUTTY:
It was all shit.
SUZIE: (With a playful wink and smile)
Not a patch on Hello! is it?
Butty doesn't even dignify that with a response.
BUTTY:
Who are you?
SUZIE:
I'm Suzie.
BUTTY:
Yes, yes, we established that at the door. But WHO are you?
SUZIE:
I'm here to talk to you and advise you about your [beat] living-situation.
BUTTY:
What about it?
SUZIE:
Well...
BUTTY:
Yes?
SUZIE:
It's lovely n all. But...
(Whispers)
It's a bit, disorganized.
BUTTY:
Sorry, I can't hear you. There is literally shit in my ears.
SUZIE:
Oh, how awful.
BUTTY:
Why would you say that?
SUZIE:
It's not very (holds back a quick gip) hygienic.
BUTTY:
It's clean shit, perfectly safe.
SUZIE:
Oh.
Suzie jumps like something has brushed against her leg.
SUZIE:
But still, this place. It's a health and safety issue.
BUTTY:
I've lived here for 24 years...
SUZIE:
14 years.
BUTTY:
What?
SUZIE:
You mean 14 years?
BUTTY:
No, I mean 24, I know my own life.
SUZIE:
Oh, I, I just thought, because you knocked over the magazines and showed me the one at the bottom, which was from "Jan 1995", so, 14 years.
BUTTY:
What are you talking about? You think I base my life, not around a 24 hour clock or 12 month calender, but instead having each point of it, plotted through editions of Hello!?
SUZIE:
I just, thought, you know, you kicked them over, after I asked you...
BUTTY:
I just like kicking over magazine stacks. Once I've kicked over six, I know it's time for Jeremy Kyle!
SUZIE:
Really?
BUTTY:
No! I only know it's time for Jeremy Kyle, when I'm holding the blade against my wrist, which is only after I've written the note.
SUZIE:
I have numbers...
BUTTY:
Num-bers?
SUZIE:
Of people, you can talk to.
BUTTY:
I have them too. Pizza Express is my favourite.
SUZIE: (Scrambles around inside her handbag)
No, I mean, I have numbers of professionals, who will listen to anything that may be, troubling you?
Butty yawns.
SUZIE:
Suzie dumps a load of leaflets and pamphlets onto Butty's coffee table.
BUTTY:
Careful, I've just tidied up!
SUZIE: (Quickly reacts without thinking)
When?!
Butty shuffles the magazines with her feet.
BUTTY:
When Brad got with Jen?
Suzie shudders.
SUZIE:
Ok, I think I have enough information.
BUTTY:
Are you sure you wouldn't like to carbonate the fag ends in the ash tray?
SUZIE:
No thanks, that's not my area.
BUTTY:
How about a stool sample? There should be a fresh one around here somewhere?
SUZIE:
Oh, I, I really must go.
Suzie scrambles to the door.
BUTTY:
Aw, no! I was about to show you where my pet was buried.
SUZIE:
Oh, it's really OK.
Suzie trips over a large rotting dog corpse on the floor.
SUZIE:
Oh, my god!
Butty starts to laugh hysterically. The room begins to spin for Suzie, more weird and disgusting things become apparent, it all becomes too much. The room is spinning fast, it's a blur.
BLACK
BEDROOM - NIGHT
A pair of eyes opens wide, terror reflects in their pupils.
It's Butty, she sits bolt up, gasping for air, sweating, slowly recovering from the nightmare.
Butty turns to her husband, who looks like Bigfoot's ugly brother.
BUTTY:
Oh, Ron, Ron. I just had an awful nightmare... some snotty bitch came into my house and said I was disorganized and unhygienic!
RON:
Roar! Roar! Arggg!
END
I apologize for the ending, for the middle and the start. But I kinda like this, but I'm not sure if any of you will?
