From ROSIE’S DINER – A Low-Budget Caper Comedy –
in preproduction (opening scene)
EXT. DINER BACK DOOR – DAY
ROSIE (attractive, 30s, empathetic, quirky but sweet), the owner of Rosie’s Diner, steps out onto the pavement and puts a bowl of milk down on the ground.
ROSIE
Breakfast!
INT. DINER – DAY
JULES STEINBERG (a small, crotchety elderly man) sits in one of the booths next to
his wife, HENRIETTA (a petite, overly chatty older woman with a penchant for booze).
JULES
This coffee is crap.
(then)
Where the hell is that waitress?
FRANK(late 30s, a burly trucker), seated in a booth across from the couple, gives Jules a
disapproving look.
EXT. DINER BACK DOOR – DAY
A BLACK CAT with several battle scars, laps up the liquid in the bowl. Rosie pets him lightly.
We get the feeling that, like the cat, life has not been easy for Rosie – and today is no exception.
ROSIE (cont)
How you doing today, sweetness?
We HEAR a loud CRASH inside the diner.
BELLE (o.s.)
Dabu!!!! Who left the goddamn slaw out overnight?
(then)
Rosie!!!!
ROSIE
(calling out)
In a minute, Belle!
(then, to cat)
Sorry about the Coffee Mate. The cook’s hoarding the milk.
INT. DINER KITCHEN – DAY
BELLE(40s/50s, upswept hair, heavy make-up, a bit rough around the edges, but likeable in her
gruffness)frantically chops onions. Dabu (a.k.a Dabby), her helper (Indian, 20s, smallish,
cute, but a bit edgy), is scraping the grill. Dabu’s upbeat Indian pop music plays in the
background from a small CD player. He dances almost maniacally. As Rosie enters the kitchen
from the back door –
BELLE
(irritated)
You gotta order more hamburger, Rosie.
We’re running low.
Belle chops even more furiously: chop chop CHOP.
ROSIE
Not until I can pay the meat guy.
BELLE
(reacting to the onions)
Son of a bitch.
(then, pissy)
How the hell am I supposed to make meat-
balls if we don’t have enough hamburger?
As Rosie exits to the front of the diner –
ROSIE
Put some more bread in the mix.
BELLE
Then you better put bread balls and spaghetti on the menu, missy.
(wiping her eyes)
Son of a bitch.
EXT. RURAL/SUBURBAN STREETS OF HAVERSTRAW, NY – DAY
Commuters are on their way to work in this multi-cultural Hudson Valley river town.
A HOMELESS MAN with a walking cane pulls a fast-food bag out of a trash can, looks inside, mumbles –
HOMELESS MAN (cont)
No French fries? Bastards.
– as an older blue Volvo pulls to the side of the road.
From SNATCHED – An Action Comedy (opening scene)
EXT. VIRGINIA – AERIAL SHOT – DAY
1
The sun spreads its early morning light over Washington D.C.
EXT. ESTABLISHING – UPSCALE APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY
2
INT. LOFT APARTMENT – DAY
3
Sunlight creeps through the windows in this well-appointed bachelor pad.
A mirrored wall stretches from the downstairs living area to the upstairs bedroom. A large, artful-looking chandelier hangs from the 30-ft. beamed ceiling.
INT. LOFT BEDROOM – DAY
4
The alarm clock on the nightstand BUZZES obnoxiously. We see a man’s hand reach out from under the sheets, fumble unsuccessfully with the clock, then bat it off the table, silencing it. We HEAR a HEAVY SIGH beneath the sheets as the man settles back to sleep.
The nap is short lived. The alarm from the man’s wristwatch goes off. He grumbles loudly from beneath the sheets as it keeps on beeping.
Seconds later, ELLSWORTH WILDE, a tall, attractive, but very disgruntled black man in his mid 30s, emerges from the sheets. An empty champagne bottle clatters to the floor. Ellsworth shuts off the alarm, then reaches for his throbbing head as he attempts to sit up.
ELLSWORTH (cont.)
(groaning)
Oh man...
Ellsworth slides back under the sheets and goes comatose. Moments later, we HEAR the sound of a fly buzzing – and buzzing.
ELLSWORTH (cont.)
Shut up.
Ellsworth pulls the covers over his head, trying to ignore the sound. The fly continues to buzz. He bats at it, repeatedly, but it won’t go away. Finally, at wits end, Ellsworth reaches into the nightstand, pulls out a pistol.
ELLSWORTH
You son of a bitch.
He aims at the fly, pulls the trigger. BANG!
INT. LOFT APARTMENT – DAY
5
The bullet ricochets off a metal sculpture, slices the chain holding the chandelier and embeds itself in the huge ceiling-to-floor mirror. Seconds later, the chandelier comes crashing down into the living room.
INT. LOFT BEDROOM – DAY
6
Ellsworth bolts upright in the bed, realizing he’s at someone else’s house.
ELLSWORTH (cont.)
Oh no.
The phone on the nightstand rings. Ellsworth stares at it, sees the caller ID, then tentatively picks up the receiver.
ELLSWORTH (cont.)
(into phone)
Uh...
(sheepishly)
... hi, Walter.
We HEAR faint crackling noises in the background, which gradually become louder.
INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION
INT. WALTER CHAMBERS’ OFFICE – DAY
7
WALTER CHAMBERS, black, mid 50s, sits at a large desk. A soft-spoken man with a good sense of humor, Walter is tall and in great shape.
WALTER
(good-naturedly)
Feeling a little hung over, Ellsworth?
INT. LOFT APARTMENT – DAY
8
In a delayed reaction, the mirrored wall CRACKLES and slides down to the floor into a huge glass heap. Ellsworth sits, frozen, staring at the wall.
ELLSWORTH
What the hell am I doing in your apartment?
EXT. ARLINGTON AIRPORT HELIPAD – DAY
9
The first helicopter shuttle of the day lands. A man wearing a hat and greasy overalls runs over and opens the copter door as the blades slow to a stop. KRIS MICHAELS, a stunning black woman (30s)in a pilot’s uniform, gets out of the helicopter and walks toward the hangar with the man.
They both wipe sweat from their faces. The day promises to be a hot one.
INT. HANGAR – DAY
10
As Kris and her cohort walk to the coffee machine, the man takes off his cap revealing a head of thick blond hair. The “man” is ANGIE ROBERTS, a top helicopter mechanic. ANGIE is petite and perky.
KRIS
I don’t know why he doesn’t take the
train. He never takes his eyes off the
gauges. When that oil pressure dropped I
thought he was going to...
ANGIE
(finishing)
... shit in his pants. And these guys run our country.
Kris gives Angie a look, then pours a cup of coffee.
ANGIE (cont.)
I’ll put in a new gauge. That’s all it needs.
From THE PEREGRINE FACTOR – A Political Thriller (opening scene)
EXT. PACIFIC OCEAN ARIAL SHOT – EARLY MORNING
1
Water sprays as a military helicopter skims low over the ocean, then heads toward Vandenberg Air Force Base (A.F.B.).
EXT. VANDENBERG A.F.B – EARLY MORNING
2
An MX missile sits ready for launch. The helicopter circles the missile then pulls away.
INT. CONTROL ROOM
3
Technicians prepare to launch the missile. The countdown begins as the crew scans their video monitors.
EXT. LAUNCH SITE – EARLY MORNING
4
The missile is launched; it flies majestically upward.
INT. CONTROL ROOM
5
As the men monitor the missile’s progress, alarms suddenly start blaring.
The CAMERA focuses on one of the monitors. The missile veers off course.
TECHNICIAN 2
Abort! Abort!
Technicians frantically holler out code to their associates, punching in data, in attempts to abort the missile, but to no avail.
TECHNICIAN 3
(to himself, looking at the monitor)
It’s heading straight for Osterville!
Jesus Christ!
On the monitor we SEE the missile as it hits the town, EXPLODING into a massive fireball.
INT. PAMELA’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
6
A fire BLAZES in the fireplace. PAMELA CURTIS, an attractive blond in her early 40s, and DOUGLAS MARTIN, a handsome man in his late 50s, lie in bed sipping champagne, watching the news. Douglas gets up and turns up the air conditioning, then slips back into bed.
Pam
I don’t want to see the electric bill when it comes in.
(playfully)
You’re just a closet romantic, aren’t you?
DOUGLAS
Why, because I like a fire in the middle of summer? I still don’t know why you won’t
spend the night with me at my cabin. Probably
one of the most romantic spots in the canyon. Hell, in all of L.A.
PAM
Because, you lunatic, you live like a
mountain goat. No hot water, no electricity.
How would I blow dry my hair?
DOUGLAS
Well, at least I have a flush toilet.
PAM
Yeah, and that’s about it – great place
to visit, but I wouldn’t want to sleep
there.
(then...)
Amazing you even have a cell phone.
DOUGLAS
How else would we have phone sex?
They laugh. Douglas then begins to make love to Pam, when coming from the television, we HEAR:
REPORTER (v.o.)
... disaster struck the little town of
Osterville, California early this morning
when an unarmed MX missile went out of
control, killing 50 people.
The report catches Douglas’ attention. He picks up the TV remote, turns up the volume.
PAM (v.o.)
What is it, Doug?
DOUGLAS
(pointing to screen)
Wait.
REPORTER (v.o.)
Officials at Vandenberg say it was due to
a guidance-system malfunction. This is the
fifth military accident in as many weeks. However, it’s the first involving civilian deaths.
DOUGLAS
Something’s not right.
(more to himself)
Too many accidents lately.
PAM rolls over on top of him.
PAM
You’re out of the spy game, remember?
DOUGLAS
Once a spy, always a spy.
PAM
Then how about a little undercover activity.
Pam pulls the sheet up over their heads.
PLAYS
From: A HOLIDAY HELPING – A full-length play
In the following excerpt, Jane – an agoraphobic and a closet drinker – is talking to her niece, Darla, who has come home for the holidays. Darla does not get along with her brother, Eaton, who is Jane’s husband.
JANE
Yes. He’s senior vice... no, actually he just got promoted, I think, or maybe that was five years ago.
What do they call him, anyway?
DARLA
I have a few suggestions.
JANE
I can’t remember. Oh, dear. Anyway, I especially think it’s important for you girls who don't have anyone, you know someone special, to be with family over the holidays. I do hope Wanda will meet someone nice, eventually. It can get so lonely. Being alone. Without someone. And I know when we spoke a couple of weeks ago, you said your two roommates are
Jewish. Did you even get a Christmas tree? Or did you have to get a Christmas bush? Isn’t that what the Jewish people get? A smallish bush? I had an uncle who was Jewish, but I don’t even know if they celebrated Chanukah. Did you say something about Eaton being emotionally vacant? Eaton? That’s a funny thought. You know, I have so many ornaments, I don’t know what I would do if I was Jewish. I have so many ornaments. They would never fit on one little bush. (Indicating the Christmas tree.) That’s why ours is so big, to accommodate all the ornaments. I guess I’d just have to decorate the neighbors’ bushes. If we were Jewish and all.
DARLA
Somehow, Jane, I think that could be rather amusing.
JANE
Being Jewish? I always wished I was Jewish. I’m not sure why. They just seem to have it so together. It wasn’t always that way, I suppose. But they’re smart, the lot of them. Very smart. And successful. Maybe if we were Jewish, Slash would be more… you know.
DARLA
Jane, Slash is a kid. I remember someone once saying kids remain idiot children until they’re 22.
JANE
Oh, good, one more year to go. Maybe he’ll grow out of it.
DARLA
And Jane, if it were as simple as being Jewish, I would have converted a long time ago. (Pause.) Are you sure you don’t want a drink?
From JACKIE AND CLARISSE – A two-person full-length play
Jackie is a street-smart, ex-con trying desperately to make it in the straight world. In this monolog he reveals his inability to relate to women.
JACKIE
Okay, so I'll tell ya. I asks this chick out, see? Marsha's her name. She's a babe. You know the type. Blonde. I've got the hot tamales for her. Like in a big fuckin' way.
Anyway, she says she'll go out with me, which totally blew me outta the water. But, hey, I'm a good lookin' guy and I got some class. So, the other night we have this date and I says, come over to my house and I'll make some horse doovers and we can slug down some beer or wine or somethin'. I told her I'd get a bottle of some of that fancy schmancy white wine that all them chicks are drinkin' these days. You know, that “Peanut Grigio” stuff. She seemed to appreciate that. So, I tells her to come over at seven o'clock. First of all, the chick's an hour late. Second of all, she brings her wango friend, Greta, who looks like the fuckin' bull dyke from hell, with her. Christ, the chick's got more hair on her face than I got on my entire body and I'm one hairy guy. So I says, what's the deal here? You under eighteen or somethin'? You need a fuckin' chaperone? She says, "No, but it's better to be safer than sorrier," whatever the heck that means. So, okay. It's our first date. So, I offer the chick and her butch baby-sitter some wine and they says okay. So's I pour them a coupla glasses and they sniff it and then put it down and don't drink it. I says what's the matter. They says it ain't very good wine. They says it stinks like the stuff ya cook with. I mean, I don't know jack shit about wine, but the guy at the liquor store said it's one of them popular brands. Christ, I paid six bucks for it, so don't tell me it's lousy shit! So, okay, who knows, maybe the guy at the liquor store was thinkin’ I’m a retard or somethin'. I don't know. Anyway... so then I bring out some horse doovers that I spent all goddamn afternoon makin' and I'm feelin' real proud of myself thinking they's as good as what you see in some of them pictures in those housewife magazines and then they look at the fuckin' things sitting there on the plate and they start laughin'. I mean really laughin' until the blonde babe, that's Marsha, she's got tears rollin' down her face. So, I says what's the matter? And the big ugly one says my horse doovers, they look like hair balls! So, I'm really gettin' pissed off, but I don't say nothin'. I keep my cool. So's I laugh it off and we all sit down and I try to start a conversation and the bull dyke keeps lookin' at my hands. And I'm startin' ta get real uncomfortable like and she gets this shit eatin' smirk on her face and I finally says, what the fuck are you lookin' at. And she says my thumbs. And I says what the fuck are you lookin' at my thumbs for? And she says it's because she ain't never seen such small stubby thumbs in her life and then the both of them start laughin' and howlin' like pair of fuckin' hyenas caught in a blender. And I asks, what the fucks a matter with stubby thumbs and they say, almost simultaneous like, "You don't know?" And then they start howlin' again. So, I threaten ta throw `em out. I don't know, Clarisse, I don't have too good a luck with women. Ya know? I don't know what I'm doin' wrong. I mean I treat `em with respect. And I like ta do romantic stuff, you know, send flowers and all that shit, but no one seems to appreciate the efforts. Shit, Clarisse. It pisses me off. Big time.
From FOR THE LOVE OF MIKE – A One-Act Play
Dorothy, an aging woman, with a bad dose of loneliness, has agreed to take care of Mike, an older cat (played by an actor, without words. In this excerpt, Dorothy’s daughter, Jean, brings her Mike’s medicine. Dorothy has not yet warmed up to Mike).
(Jean bursts back into the room.)
JEAN
I forgot to give you his meds. I’ll put them in the kitchen on the counter. He can take them with his food.
DOROTHY
He’s on medication? What the hell for?
JEAN
Something for his anxiety. He’s been shuffled around a lot.
DOROTHY
Anxiety? What the hell does that mean? He going to throw himself out the window or something?
JEAN
No Mom. It’ll help with the transition. He has to get used to the place.
DOROTHY
What about my transition? Do I get any drugs?
JEAN
Mother, is that beer I see?
DOROTHY
Maybe. Maybe not.
JEAN
And what’s in that glass? Whiskey? You’re supposed to be cutting back.
DOROTHY
I’ll cut back when I’m dead.
JEAN
Mother… this is going right down the sink. One or two beers is fine, but not the hard stuff.
(Jean takes the glass out to the kitchen.)
JEAN
(From kitchen.) And I’m throwing out the rest of the bottle.
DOROTHY
That’s fine. I’ve got another one under the bed.
JEAN
What did you say?
DOROTHY
I said… uh… Mike has a particularly big head.
(Jean comes out of kitchen.)
JEAN
Oh geez. I’m getting beeped. (She pulls out her beeper from her purse.) It’s probably my boss.
DOROTHY
(With humor.) Hey Mike, when was the last time you got beeped?
JEAN
Yup, it’s the bossman... all right, then. Gotta be off. (Jean goes over to Mike.) He’s a sweetie, Mom – aren’t you Mikey?
(Jean rumples Mike’s hair. Then, as she is about to go out the door...)
JEAN
Love you, Mom.
DOROTHY
Yeah, I love you too. (Aside.) But sometimes I’d like to break your neck.
JEAN
(Pops her head back in the door.) Remember to take your Metamucil. You don’t want to get all bunched up.
(Jean exits. Dorothy turns to Mike.)
DOROTHY
(To Mike.) Don’t let anyone tell you different: the golden years are shit.
(Dorothy goes to the couch. She sits and takes a long drink of her beer. She puts it down, then settles in, pulls a blanket up over her.)
From WEB-ENABLED – A comedy about e-love
Jenny and Carl meet for the first time after a passionate email affair. In this excerpt, Jenny gets up the courage to confront Carl, who misrepresented himself.
JENNY
When did you get into town?
CARL
About six hours ago.
(Jenny returns.)
JENNY
Really? What have you been doing?
CARL
Hyperventilating.
JENNY
Here you go.
(She hands him his glass of water.)
CARL
Thanks. Is it filtered?
JENNY
No.
CARL
Oh.
JENNY
It won’t kill you.
CARL
It might. Over time.
(She drinks from her glass. A lot.)
CARL
So what do you think?
JENNY
About what?
CARL
Me. Me, the package. Me, the body.
JENNY
Wow. Well, geez.
CARL
Is it that bad?
JENNY
No.
CARL
Tell me.
JENNY
Should I be honest? I mean perfectly honest?
CARL
I expect nothing less.
JENNY
I...
CARL
No, please. It’s part of what attracted me to you.
JENNY
Okay. You don’t look like an amalgam of all the top ten movie stars.
CARL
It depends on the parts; you know, this one’s ears, that one’s eyebrows, teeth, chin. It was a joke, sort of.
JENNY
And tall. You said tall. You said really tall.
CARL
Well, I am. When I stand on a chair. I really didn’t think it would matter. I mean it really shouldn’t matter, should it?
JENNY
I’m sorry. It’s just I thought you were tall.
CARL
Do you mean, if you thought I was short, you never would have talked to me, the way you talked to me?
JENNY
And are your really 39?
CARL
Well, yes. A “Jack Benny 39.” I told you that.
JENNY
But, who’s Jack Benny? (Then…) Is that an old photograph you used?
CARL
I think I’ll have some wine.
JENNY
I thought you said you didn’t drink.
CARL
I just took it up.
JENNY
You know, it’s not so much the fact that you are short, now, or that you really don’t look like you’re a day under 50. It’s more the fact that you lied about it.
CARL
I’m sorry, but it really depends on your interpretation.
JENNY
You mean like it depends on your interpretation of what’s tall? You mean, like some sleazy politician’s idea of what constitutes sex…? Is that what you mean?
CARL
Well, yes I guess. No. I mean, to some people, I’m tall.
JENNY
To a small child perhaps. But, we’re adults. And, I’m sorry – if you want to know my opinion, the President was lying.
CARL
The President? Who said anything about that? That happened years ago.
JENNY
I was just making a point about lying.
CARL
You know what kills me about all that – why is everyone so interested these politician’s sex lives? Like who cares. Big deal. Just do your job. If you have to do it with your pants down, fine. Who cares? Just do what you were hired to do.
