INT. HOME.
FX PHONE RINGING.
A MAN (APPROX. 40) ANSWERS IT.
MAN:
Hello.
VOICE:
James, it's your mum, I've some terrible news... your dad's dead.
MAN:
Oh... that's, that's terrible news mum.
VOICE:
He would have been 75 in two days.
MAN:
Shit! I'd completely forgot about his birthday... well, that's worked out ok actually.
VOICE:
Sorry?
MAN:
No mum, look I'll buy him a wreath and that will cover his birthday and funeral as they'll fall on the same day.
FADE.
CUT TO MAN IN SUIT AT HIS MUM'S HOUSE. THERE IS A COFFIN IN THE ROOM WITH AN OLDER MAN LYING IN IT.
MAN: (thinking aloud)
Mum's asleep, everyone's left. Think I'll have a bit of fun with the old git before the funeral.
MAN LIFTS HIS DEAD DAD OUT OF THE COFFIN AND STANDS HIM UP. HE THEN PROCEEDS TO HURL WREATHS AT HIS HEAD, HOOPLA STYLE.
MAN:
Ha, ha... yessss, that's two wreaths round his Gregory Peck now.
SUDDENLY HIS MUM WALKS INTO THE ROOM, SHE SHRIEKS THEN FAINTS.
MAN:
Sure he's dead mum, it'll do him no harm.