I wrote this whilst I was unemployed earlier on in the year. I think I had too much time on my hands. I guess it's a short film. Not really sure what to make of it.
Int. Front Room. 0800
The curtains are drawn, but a few shafts of light break through. Gavin is curled up on the sofa crying. The doorbell rings. Gavin continues crying. The doorbell rings again, but a little longer. Gavin's tears do not stop. The doorbell rings and stays ringing for 10 seconds. Gavin continues to cry. The sound of a door being kicked and splintering starts up. The psychopath storms into the front room.
Psychopath:
What the f**k are you doing?
Gavin is oblivious to his entry and continues crying. The psychopath takes a close and disgusted look at Gavin.
Psychopath:
Are you... are you crying?!
Gavin:
(PAINED) She's dead! She's DEAD!
BEAT.
Psychopath:
Where's my money?
Gavin:
(SOBBING) I'm all alone.
The psychopath starts rooting around in a chest of drawers. He pulls out some papers and swats Gavin in the face with them.
Psychopath:
Where's my FUCKING MONEY?!
Gavin:
(TO HIMSELF) It's just me now.
The psychopath looks at a shelf on the wall. He goes over and takes down a vase.
Psychopath:
How much is this worth?
Gavin finally leaps up from the sofa. He launches himself at the psychopath.
Gavin:
DON'T TOUCH THAT!
The psychopath pushes him down to the floor with one hand.
Psychopath:
What are you doing?!
Gavin:
That's... I mean... that was... that IS my mum's favourite vase
The psychopath puts the vase down on a table. They both look at it.
Psychopath:
How about I get some flowers? For the vase. You know, keep the memory of your mother alive.
Gavin:
Yeah. She'd like that.
Psychopath:
Right.
The psychopath grabs the vase and goes to leave. Gavin jumps up.
Gavin:
You can't take it.
Psychopath:
Of course I'm f**king taking it. How else am I gonna get the perfect fit of flowers without it? D'you think I'm Rainman? F**king Rainman?!
Gavin:
No, it's just-
Psychopath:
You wanna insult your mother's memory? With some shit fit f**king flowers?!
Gavin:
But what if you lose it?
Psychopath:
If you're not careful, I might lose my temper. Do you want me to lose my temper?
Gavin:
No.
Psychopath:
Good answer. Now, keys!
Gavin:
What?
Psychopath:
CAR KEYS!
Gavin:
Why?
Psychopath:
Why? WHY?! I don't believe this. First, you don't want me losing it. And now, NOW, you want me to go on a bus with it. What the f**k happens on buses?
Gavin:
People get... on and... off?
Psychopath:
And when they get off they f**king leave stuff.
Gavin:
Can't you just make sure you don't leave it?
Psychopath:
Are you calling me a gambler? Like my old man?
Gavin:
No, it's just-
The psychopath gets right in Gavin's face.
Psychopath:
You think I go round beating f**k out of kids?
Gavin:
Just take the keys.
Gavin grabs some keys off the table. He chucks them to the psychopath.
Psychopath:
F**king liberty taker.
The psychopath walks out.
CUT TO: Int. Kitchen. Continuous
The psychopath goes to leave the house, but notices a bottle of vodka. He swipes it and leaves the house.
CUT TO: Ext. Driveway. Continuous
The psychopath approaches the car swigging from the bottle of vodka. He opens the door and chucks the vase in.
CUT TO: Int. Car. Continuous
The psychopath notices a newspaper on the passenger seat. He opens it up and flicks to the 'personal services' section. He sees a number and dials it on his mobile. The other end picks up.
Psychopath:
Do you do car meets? Good. Right, I'll pick you up in 20 minutes.
The psychopath hangs up and starts the car up. He screeches out of the driveway.
CUT TO: Ext. Street. 0825
The psychopath pulls up outside a chipshop. A tarty looking woman approaches and gets in. The car screeches off.
CUT TO: Ext. Country lane. 0835
The psychopath speeds down the lane at an insane speed.
CUT TO: Ext. Forest clearing. 0840
The psychopath is having sex with the tart over the bonnet of the car. His face is one of disgust. He shudders and pulls away from the woman. She is exhausted and still lying over the bonnet. The psychopath goes inside the car and grabs the vase. He looks at the tart in anger before smashing the vase over her head. He pushes her off the car and leaves her writhing around on the floor as he speeds off.
CUT TO: Int. Front Room. 0930
Gavin is curled up on the sofa and staring ahead emotionlessly. The sound of an accelerating car approaches. It get's louder and louder until there's a big scratching noise. The engine stops. Gavin snaps out of his daze and sits up. The psychopath enters with the empty bottle of vodka.
Psychopath:
The florist didn't have any flowers. And he f**ked your car over too.
Gavin:
Where's the vase?
Psychopath:
Oh yeah.
The psychopath leaves before re-entering with a plastic bag. He tips out the various pieces of broken vase.
Psychopath:
Now! WHERE'S MY FUCKING MONEY?!
Gavin:
MOTHER! (Possible crane shot?)
ENDS
