Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Past For Sale

I've written a three-page script as part of the application for one of the American universities. The theme I chose was 'two siblings waiting for their father's funeral'.

Comments are welcome - in fact, they're positively encouraged!



PAST FOR SALE
by
Claire Weaver


EXT. QUIET RESIDENTIAL STREET, MID-AFTERNOON

A BOY and a GIRL (twins, aged 8) sit beside a small table in front of their house. Both children are wearing funeral attire – the BOY is in a suit and tie; the GIRL wears a black dress and veiled hat.

A hand-written sign reading ‘PAST FOR SALE’ is taped to the tablecloth. On the table are a pile of photographs and an urn.

A MAN walks up the street and stops in front of the table.

MAN:
Are you kids selling lemonade?

The BOY solemnly picks up a photo and hands it to the man. The picture shows a middle-aged man enjoying a fishing trip.

MAN:
You’re selling photographs?

The children share an exasperated look. The girl pushes the urn forward.

BOY:
If you don’t buy him, we’ll have to bury him.

GIRL:
Again.

The MAN looks at the children, confused. The lawn behind them is littered with dug-up patches and holes.

MAN:
Huh?

GIRL:
His name’s Mike and he’s our dad. He’s good at fishing and maths and he’s a very careful driver, but he doesn’t come with the car.

The BOY hands the MAN more photographs as the GIRL talks – one of Mike fixing a car, another of him at a barbeque, and so on.

GIRL:
He knows lots of jokes and cooks the best hamburgers. Are you interested?

The MAN stares at the GIRL for a moment then gazes at the darkened windows of the house, searching for the children’s mother. The house is quiet.

MAN:
You’re selling your father?

The children nod.

MAN:
And he’s… dead?

BOY:
Don’t worry – he’ll come back. He always does.

GIRL:
But you have to wait until it’s dark. He doesn’t come out in the day – not since he got turned into a vampire.

MAN: (laughing)
Vampires don’t exist.

The children stare at him, quite serious.

MAN: (unnerved)
Do they?

GIRL:
Do you want to buy him or not?

MAN:
I think I’ll pass.

The MAN hands the photographs back and walks away quickly, clearly disturbed.

BOY:
It’s getting late.

GIRL:
It’s your turn to dig the hole.

BOY:
No way. I did it last time.

The GIRL sighs and holds up her fist. They play a round of Rock/Paper/Scissors, which the girl wins.

GIRL:
Come on.

BOY:
He’ll only come back again.

GIRL:
Not for a few days. It’ll give us time to sort out mom.

BOY:
Did you find out how to kill a zombie?

GIRL:
Not yet. But I’ll check the Internet after we bury dad. I’m sure there’ll be something.

The BOY gets a shovel from behind the table and goes to dig a hole. Taking the urn carelessly under her arm, the GIRL follows.

END