Let the evidence show, faithful readers, that I cannot be found guilty of the crime of doting mother, and overall reckless spender. There's a lot more good stuff in ds's script than what I'm allowed to put on here.
I mean seriously, how can anyone with a substantial sense of humor not want to see this on the small screen(a sitcom minus the bad words?), or on Vimeo, (a webseries with the bad words).
Hopefully, ds will go to work on pre-production soon. But that's like expecting Rip Van Winkle not to fall asleep.
Anyway, tune in for more Sample Friday's, (if I'm allowed).
FADE IN:
EXT - EMPTY PARKING LOT - MORNING
A beat up Chevy Malibu pulls in. It's having engine problems.
INT - CHEVY MALIBU - MOMENTS LATER
ZACH ANDREWS is sitting behind the steering wheel, outside of (name redacted) Grill. He has just made a phone call.
ZACK
Hey brother.
(beat)
Nope. Car's still alive.
Zach imitates an engine noise rather terribly.
ZACK (CONT'D)
There, you hear that? Ok man, I'm only calling to let you know who just called me this morning.
(beat)
Ugh, I hate texting. That's why. But I invited this person over to our place this weekend. Remember Lila? She totally wants to shoot some Stoli with me.
(beat)
I want vodka! But yeah, her. The chick who puked all over your ——Hey, hold on a second. Holy. SHIT!
Zach has become distracted as he looks out his windshield. He sees an ATTRACTIVE, MIDDLE-AGED FEMALE and a CEO BOARD MEMBER-TYPE OLDER MALE having sex out in an open field. They are still fully clothed.
ZACK (CONT'D)
Bro, I'm totally gonna show you a video later. You're gonna want to watch this.
(beat)
It won't be.
(beat)
Hey, the mom who sent me that video link had told me it was about two hot girls who share a cup of warm, creamy Butterbeer!
Zach hangs up. He proceeds to take his phone, turns on the video camera portion of it, and films the couple.
INT: (NAME REDACTED) GRILL - BAR AREA - LATER THAT MORNING
The bar is PACKED. There are no seats available, and there's a bunch of PATRONS standing around talking.
A set of swinging doors is in view. The door labeled IN bursts open as ZACK, wearing a Mickey Mouse pin, is carrying three dishes of lunch entrees in his arms, as well as a carry-out bag that's hanging off his right shoulder. He heads to TABLE 309 and drops off their food. On his way back, ZACK passes a table of two MIDDLE-AGED MALES.
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1
(rolling eyes)
Hey, I would love another IPA before nightfall!
ZACK
I apologize, sir. I'll be right back with that.
Zack gently pushes some PATRONS out of his way as he rushes behind the bar.
ZACK (CONT'D)
(muttering)
A beer and a dick kick coming up just for you, douche.
Zack looks over his customers sitting at the bar. ROGER, a man in his early 60's who has been a regular of ZACK'S for a long time, is sitting calmly nursing his scotch on rocks.
ROGER
Need an enforcer?
ZACK
No, but a pair of soccer spikes would be nice to have right about now.
ROGER
Why's it so busy today?
Zack grabs a bottle of INDIA PALE ALE from the bar's beer cooler.
ZACK
I couldn't tell you anything other than I've never seen it like this before. At least in the morning.
He grabs a pitcher of water.
ZACK (CONT'D)
All the servers have clocked out, so I'm the only one here.
Zack heads back toward TABLE 317, occupied by the two middle-aged males. He drops off the beer and fills TWO near-empty glasses of water.
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1
Can you take the plates out of our way?
Zack forces a smile, as he lifts two empty appetizer plates off the table.
ZACK
(ingenuine)
Absolutely. Is there anything else I can get you gentlemen right now?
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1
No. I'll ring a bell when we need you.
Zack sighs, and walks back over to TABLE 309. After checking on his customers, he heads back behind the bar counter, and clears empty glasses and wing baskets. Suddenly, he hears FINGERS SNAPPING from TABLE 317. A hint of anger crosses Zack's face as he hesitantly walks over to the table.
ZACK
Yes . . .?
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1
Two shots of your house bourbon.
(patronizing)
Please.
A forced smile appears on Zack's face. He goes back behind the bar to grab a bottle of bourbon and two shot glasses. Meanwhile, Roger's been looking on.
ROGER
Just say the word. You know I've handled worse guys.
ZACK
No need, Roger. I have a lot of patience.
Zack zooms back to 317.
ZACK (CONT'D)
OK gentlemen, two shots of fine bourbon.
Zack nearly slams the shooter glasses on the table, then pours three ounces from the bottle into the glasses.
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1
Well, that's all. You're no longer needed right now.
Zack stares at him.
MIDDLE-AGED MALE #1 (CONT'D)
I said goodbye.
Zack slaps the man! Middle-Aged Male #1 just stares at Zack in disbelief. Finally, Zack abruptly turns and rushes back to the bar. His hand trembles as he snatches a beer, hoping to make amends by wooing his assault victim with a free drink. He hurries back to table 317.
ZACK
So, um . . . I hear . . . You know, you look nice today . . . I hope your day has been full of . . . polkadots . . . And rainbows.
In a moment of desperation, Zack starts singing. Badly. If she were dead, Barbra Streisand would be choking in her grave.
ZACK (CONT'D)
MEMORIES, LIGHT THE CORNERS OF MY MIND . . . MISTY WATERCOLOR MEMORIES . . . OF THE WAY WE WERE . . . MEMORIES, MAY BE BEAUTIFUL AND YET, WHAT'S TOO PAINFUL TO REMEMBER, WE SIMPLY CHOOSE TO FORGET . . . MEMORIES -—
END SCENE. CUT TO:
ACT ONE
INT. (NAME REDACTED)GRILL —— MANAGER'S OFFICE —— LATER THAT DAY
Zack sits across from his MANAGER. They're having a one-on-one over Zack's slapping incident.
MANAGER
Five years, man.
ZACK
I don't know why I couldn't keep my composure with him. He was just so degrading.
MANAGER
And how does that make him any different from the many other assholes who have dined here? You know the policy, man. I can't have my employees attacking the guests.
ZACK
(sighs)
You're right, Joe. In my defense, do you remember Thanksgiving Eve of '09?
MANAGER/JOE
The night we went over $10,000 in sales? Hell yes.
ZACK
Do you remember my last table of the night? One parent and three screaming banshees. I held my ground. Now that mess was the absolute worst I've waited on, up until this guy.
JOE
Maybe it's time for you to take a break. You've been doing this for a long-ass time.
ZACK
As nice as that sounds, it's what I know. Restaurants, bartending, serving. It's my trade.
Zach looks down.
ZACK (CONT'D)
(to himself)
Oh God, is that really it? Do I not have anything else to offer?
JOE
That's not true, man. You have great repertoire with people, barring today, of course. More than I can say for a lot of the dumb shits that get hired here.
ZACK
The same dumb shits that you hire?
JOE
I digress. Ass.
(beat)
This just sucks. I don't want to lose you, dude, but corporate won't let me keep you. Hey, what about your writing? How's that coming along?
ZACK
It is what it is. Writer's block sucks.
JOE
Don't you need to write to have writer's block?
ZACK
(mock laughs)
Jackass. I've been looking around for work. There's a few workshops here and there, but I can't really afford them.
JOE
It's too bad Carol and Shannon aren't around anymore.
ZACK
They're off doing some philanthropic work in South America, or wherever the fuck it is they're at now.
(sighs)
Maybe you're right. A break from all of this isn't such a bad idea. But I'd have to find something fast. Like pronto.
JOE
Well, dude, I can give you a great recommendation. Whatever you need . . . I'll do it in a heartbeat. Just one suggestion. Next time, don't slap the hand that feeds you.
ZACK
As opposed to the hand that hits me instead?
JOE
Now you've got it! But, I've gotta ask you, Zack. Why a slap? Was a punch too masculine for you?
ZACK
You're too funny, Joe. No, I was pretending his face was your mom's left tit!
JOE
What?
ZACK
(self-deprecating)
I don't know. It sounded better in my head.
.
