Storyboarding & Scriptwriting Week 6's Assignment

I must have wrote this scene ages ago. Just found it, had a laugh, and decided to share it. What a funny piece of crap it must've been.

By the way, I think it sucks... =D

The Blunder.

By,

Samuel Wong Guo Dhong

Int. House. Late Evening

A lizard scurried from under the front door, made a frantic left turn, and ran up an unblemished full length mirror stretching from the wooden floor to the plaster ceiling. Its wide eyes darted from left to right as it dodged the fluorescent lights, before making a daring leap around a corner. The white lights shone onto equally white walls, giving the living room a rather sterile look. A distorted shadow appeared through the stained glass inset in a dark mahogany door. Some keys jangled as one of them entered a lock. Twisting the lock open and entering, Fred Brickman, 32, balanced several grocery bags in his right arm while retrieving the key with his left. Nudging the door close with his foot, he sighs as he dumps his keys on a shoe cupboard next to the mirror. Stumbling into a kitchen as sterile as the previous room, he maneuvers around a glass dinner table and places the bags on a marble topped counter that separates the table from the stove. He sighs as he walks over to the answering machine and presses the rewind button. It blinks green and whirrs as he sorts the groceries and stacks them in their respective places.

Answering Machine

(Male)

Beep… Hey Fred, Joseph here. I know its Saturday but I need you to pop by the office tomorrow to pick up some papers. Call me when you get this…

Fred

(Disgusted)

Ugh. I cant believe that guy!

He stashes the last of the groceries and grabs a bottle of soda from the fridge. He pops it and drinks deeply, while leaning on the counter. His eyes wander over to the newspaper set on the dining table and half attentively listens to the next message.

Answering Machine

(Female)

Beep… Mr. Brinkman? (Underemphasizes on the “ink”) I’m sorry to inform you on such short notice, but your dinner reservations have been canceled because a famous icon discovered that he had under booked for his party. I’m terribly sorry sir…

Fred’s mouth gapes wide open and the soda hangs loosely at his side. A look of disbelief fills his face, but is quickly replaced by indignant anger. Loosing all interest in the paper, he throws the unfinished soda into an open wastebasket, then flings his hands into the air.

Fred

(Exasperated)

WHAT? I’ve been on the waiting list for over a month and they just bump me because of some stupid celebrity’s party? That is a completely…

Answering Machine

(Indistinct)

Beep… Yo Brickman… (undecipherable chatter)

Fred (Cont’d)

…unjustifiable act! If I wasn’t in my right frame of mind I’d bloody sue them!

He clutches his head in his hands, tousling his auburn hair as a sudden look of worry crosses him.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Worried)

(Moans) Oh great. How am I going to tell Mona?…

The closes his eyes and puts on a face somewhere between thoughtfulness and a grimace. The answering machine in the background stops and blinks red.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Decisively)

I know. I’ll just let her go there and find out herself. If they’re lucky she won’t scream her head off at them and that way she’ll blame them, not me.

He smiles to himself smugly.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Smugly)

Brilliant!

He tries to fish out his soda but stops midway.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Annoyed)

Perfect… now I have to cook my own dinner.

He sighs in resignation and heads behind the counter. Fishing out a five-pack of instant noodles from an overhead cupboard, he separates one from the rest and stashes the rest back where they came from. He puts in on the counter and turns to put a pot of water to boil. Several attempts are made to start a flame.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Eagerly)

Come on, come on… Start for me…

Finally a flame bursts to life and he closes the pot’s lid. He turns back to the counter and fishes out a chopping board. He places the board down and rolls some onions on it playfully. Fishing out a knife from the rack on the counter, he proceeds to skin and chop up the onions. After a few minutes of chopping, he is satisfied by size of the diced chunks; though his eyes are watering. He fishes out his handkerchief and wipes away the tears.

Fred (Cont’d)

Sniff… Now that, is why I hate cooking.

He rips open the packet of instant noodles, lifts the lid, and dumps the contents in. He follows up with the onions, and closes the lid. He leans back on the counter and watches the time on his watch tick by. After three minutes, he checks on the noodles, nodding and smiling as he notes that they are ready. Placing the lid aside, he is oblivious to the lizard crawling on the overhead cupboards. As he lifts the pot off the stove, flame still burning merrily, the lizard starts to lose its grip. Frantically scrambling and trying to avoid a fall into a pot of boiling noodles, the lizard fails and plummets just as Fred swivels to the right. Instead of falling into the pot, the lizard lands on Fred’s left hand and almost as immediately tries to jumps off. The fear of seeing a lizard on his hand, however, compels Fred to let go of the pot and shake off the lizard. The lizard flies across the room, but the pot hits the counter and spews all of its contents onto Fred’s arm and the stove, both scalding him, and extinguishing the fire.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Loudly)

SHIT!!!

The pot falls to the floor with a loud clang, though not as loud as Fred’s swearing.

Fred (Cont’d)

Shit shit shit shit shit!!! Oh Freaking Hell!!!

He runs around the counter, dodges the dining table, and sprints straight past the living room into the bathroom, leaving a significant trail consisting of dripping soup, noodles, and onion chunks on the wood floor. Opening the water faucet, he thrusts his hand under the running flow while opening the medical cabinet. He grabs a tube of tooth paste and after a few more seconds under the water, the squeezes the entire tube onto his left hand, spreading it with his right. While waiting for the soothing calm of the mint flavored Colgate, he rinses his right hand.

Fred (Cont’d)

(Irritated)

Great you smart ass. Perfect way to impress Mona, being a sissy ass, scared of lizards, scalds himself by accident kinda guy.

He pulls out a cigarette, stuffs it in his mouth, and lights it. Taking a few puffs, he sighs as the mint eats into his nerves, calming them. Back in the kitchen, the stove leaks gas through the cooked noodles, building up to a critical level. After taking another minute, Fred decides to clean up the mess he had made. Walking through the living room, cigarette still alight, he almost makes it into the kitchen. However, not before he spots the lizard sneaking underneath the counter. He runs after it but slips on some noodles midway through the doorway. Stomach crashing into the dining table, Fred gets winded and spits the cigarette into the cloud of invisible gas. The cloud ignites and creates a terrifying blast, originating from the cigarette’s tip. The knives in the rack on the counter are hurtled towards Fred. The light from one of the ceiling lamps glints off a knife, reflecting in Fred’s eyes, though back lit by the expanding explosion. The knife spins in slow motion, tumbles, spins, tumbles, and eventually stabs Fred’s left eye, microseconds before the blast reaches his flesh, tearing through his skin, frying the Colgate, and incinerating his face starting from the tip of his nose. The glass table shatters into a thousand tiny fragments. The blast brutally flings Fred through the living room, slamming him into the wall beside the bathroom door, before continuing on into the bathroom, melting the shower curtain. A stray machete decapitates Fred, and both body and head crumple separated to the floor while the machete remains stuck in the wall, being pelted by pieces of glass. After the blast dies down, there is an eerie silence. Everything still, the only movement is from the lizard, somewhat protected from the blast underneath the counter. It wobbles past the dining table and pauses to see a stark contrast in environment. The once sterile living room and kitchen is now in shambles. The phone rings a weakened, hurt ring, before it switches to the answering machine.

Answering Machine

(Warbled, distorted)

Hey, you’bve reacched Fredd Bbrickk-mans re-re-residence…… Pleassse leav-ve a mes-sseage at t-the beepp……… BWEEP… Hey Fredd… Mona here… I’mm at the restaurantt now… Lovvely place you pickked. Just kalling to checkk if you’vve left the housse yet. Oh guess whatt… I told them the resservation was for Brickkman, and they ssaid the resservation wass for tommmorroww but whenn they doubble checkked, apparrenttly theres a Brinnkman who has a resservvation for tomorrow! Funny coiinciddence huh? Anyways gett here quicck alrigght? Oh and byy the wway, Kriss Anngel iss havving a p-party heree ttommorrow! Kool huhh?…

Beep…

The lizard weaved its way through burnt wood, broken glass, mirror, and random assorted items. Hobbling under the door, it disappears into the dark of night.

Fin.