INT. PLUSH LIVING ROOM - DAY
THE ROOM IS FILLED WITH POLICEMEN SAT AT COMPUTERS, TALKING ON PHONES AND POURING OVER A MAP. TWO WEEPING PARENTS STAND STARING AT A SMALL BOX ON THE GRAND OAK DINING TABLE AS BOMB EXPERTS EXAMINE IT.
DETECTIVE
We can’t be too careful Mr and Mrs Chester. It could be from the kidnappers.
THE BOMB EXPERT CAREFULLY LIFTS THE LID OFF THE BOX AND GASPS WHEN HE SEES INSIDE. THE DETECTIVE APPROACHES THE BOX AND SEES THAT THERE IS A BLOODY FINGER AND A NOTE INSIDE. THE MOTHER SCREAMS AND BURIES HER HEAD IN HER HUSBAND’S CHEST.
THE DETECTIVE LETS OUT A SIGH AND PICKS UP THE NOTE. IT READS, ‘WE WILL SEND A PIECE OF YOUR SON TO YOU EVERY WEEK OUR DEMANDS ARE NOT MET. VIVA LA REVOLUTION!’ THE DETECTIVE SHAKES HIS HEAD.
DETECTIVE (CONT'D)
Sick bastards.
CUT TO:
INT. PLUSH LIVING ROOM - DAY
‘ONE WEEK LATER’ APPEARS ON SCREEN.
ANOTHER, MUCH LARGER BOX SITS ON THE TABLE. THE PARENTS ARE BESIDES THEMSELVES WITH GREIVE. THE BOMB EXPERT SLOWLY LIFTS THE LID, SCREAMS AND RUNS AWAY. WE SEE THE BACK OF A SMALL HEAD.
MOTHER
Noooooooooooooooo!
SHE FALLS TO THE FLOOR. HER HUSBAND GOES TO COMFORT HER. THE DETECTIVE WIPS A TEAR FROM HIS EYE AND PICKS UP THE NOTE INSIDE THE BOX. IT READS, ‘FUCK! THINK WE BLEW OUR LOAD A LITTLE EARLY THERE!’
FADE OUT.
