Issuu on Google+

Screenplay


MOVIE IDEA 37: (BECAUSE MY TREATMENT SCRIPT SUCKED) NARRATOR: (Narrator’s voice over) Day 83; the gate’s have finally broken. All day and all night all we hear is the undead roaming the abandoned hallways. My nerves are shot and I’m completely aware that my time on earth is very short. Good Riddance if you ask me. Another week with Miss Perfect and the All American Boy Wonder and I’d probably beat the zombies to the punch and kill us all myself. This life really is a miserable sort of existence. MISS PERFECT: When we’re rescued do you think they’ll send in all those handsome firemen first or do you think the young but strapping Army recruits will get here first? ALL AMERICAN: Doing push-ups in the middle of the room. Why does it matter? Help is help. I just want to see sunlight, women, and ESPN again. MISS PERFECT: It matter Curt. If I don’t know which will be the first to rescue us how will I possible know which appropriate outfit to wear? NARRATOR: The only people that will be coming through that door have no pulse and probably won’t give a damn what you’re wearing to be honest Claire. MISS PERFECT: But I’m too young to die. I have so much to live for. NARRATOR: Don’t worry Barbie Doll; shopping malls, MTV, and bulimia are all things of the past. You don’t really have much else left to live for. (CONTINUED)


CONTINUED:

2.

MISS PERFECT: Bursts into tears. ALL AMERICAN: Knock it off Anna, I’m already sick of your pessimistic attitude as it is. Go slit your wrists on your own time. NARRATOR: You wish farm boy. (Narrator Voice-Over) What I’m sure hasn’t yet entered into either of their minds was the fact that there was no salvation or rescue crews coming. We were it; and if you asked me after the last 3 and a half months there really couldn’t be anything worse than this to be found in Hell. In this horrendous distopian society the only thing that really mattered was survival and even that was beginning to seem lackluster to me these days. And before any of you think to start in on me too, living with these two idiots would make anyone begin to think of the living dead as a hospitable group of ruffians just looking for a good party to crash. MISS PERFECT: Do you really think we’re the end of civilization Anna? NARRATOR: (Voice Over) My honest to god, the god I didn’t believe in, answer was yes Clair. We are the rest of humanity. What a joy. ALL AMERICAN: Glances in the Narrator’s direction with an icy look across his face. NARRATOR: Shit, I don’t know Claire. None of us even knows what the outside world is like by this point. (CONTINUED)


CONTINUED:

3.

Through gritted teeth. But I’m sure if there is a God somewhere, out there, in that wacky universe the infection wasn’t spread world wide. Maybe it’s only a matter of time? MISS PERFECT: Oh Anna. I knew you would come around and accept us and God sooner or later. I can’t wait to get back to the real world. We’ll of course have to schedule spa appointments, actually lets do lunch and make a day of it. NARRATOR: Oh Jesus Fucking Christ. MISS PERFECT: That’s not a traditional prayer but it’s a good start. I’m proud of you Anna. ALL AMERICAN: We both are. And that spa day sounds real nice Claire. You should start planning it out for all of us this very afternoon. MISS PERFECT: The Spas do fill up fast this time of year. Walks to the opposite side of the room and settles down with a notebook. NARRATOR: I’m going to vomit. ALL AMERICAN: Is actually being a team member and giving someone a glimmer of hope in this dark, depressing place really that bad? NARRATOR: Yes. I’m going with yes it is. ALL AMERICAN: If you ask me, I’d rather live in Claire’s world right now than either of ours. AT least she still (MORE) (CONTINUED)


CONTINUED:

4.

ALL AMERICAN: (cont’d) has a little bit of real hope left. She still has things to look forward to, she still has a future. It’s more than I can say for either of us. NARRATOR: I’m looking forward to my death. ALL AMERICAN: Well aren’t you always just such a little ray of sunshine. NARRATOR: (Voice Over) What always killed me the most about Claire and Curt had to be their completely immersed notions of not being trapped, not being stuck as a permanent member of this half life; more Claire than Curt but they both were somewhat unrealistic in their hopes and idealized future. It killed me that they could look at this shit hole, see the undead masses, lose everyone they ever cared about and still have some sort of hope left. I was neither hopeful nor ignorant of my surroundings. It’s still the 83rd day of being a prisoner and the gates are finally breaking.


Movie Idea 37