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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1285446
by dvance
Rated: ASR · Script/Play · Detective · #1285446
This is a short prologue I wrote to pitch my current project, a noir feature film.

The scene fades in from black with no title screen. A small table for two is visible. At this table are two men in suits. One is called Boris; the other is Joseph. The room is dimly lit, with a small candle in the center of the table providing most of the light. The two men are eating what appear to be identical cuts of beef. The only other person in the room is a woman wearing a seductive black dress and sipping on a glass of red wine. Her name is Angie.

Look at him. Boris Kingsley. He looks so smug. But he does have reason, doesn’t he? Boris is my immediate superior. But I’m just as good as he is. I’m just as skilled as him, and yet I’m stuck in his shadow. It’s sickening. He gets all the glory, and I get to be his little lackey.

There is a slight pause as the shot tightens on Joseph’s chewing face. His eyes are full of spite, and the rest of his face is sarcastic. Then he delivers his line.

I should kill him. I’d be doing him a favor.

The camera switches to Boris, who is chewing his food rather harshly and not even looking at Joseph. Joseph continues to think to himself.

It would be easy. He doesn’t have any protection. We were just on a simple unarmed mission. All we had to do was go into the building, grab the disk, and leave.

The camera switches to a shot of both of them from a side view.

He’s unarmed. He didn’t think to bring any protection. But I did.

Camera switches back to Joseph, now taking a swig of his white wine.

Before we started eating, I stashed a gun in the bathroom. All I have to do is quietly excuse myself to the bathroom. When I’m all alone, I grab the cannon, come back here, and wait until the time is right. Then, I take the disk, head back to headquarters, and take Boris’s place. The only thing left to do with now is sitting in the corner.

The camera moves to Angie, who is sipping her wine very gracefully. Then, it heads back to the table where the two men are sitting.

I’m going to the bathroom.

Boris looks up nonchalantly and gives a slight nod. The camera follows Joseph as he gets up walks over to Angie’s table, and sits down.

Are you alone?

I’m waiting on someone.

Most women around here are pretty brutal. I decide to bring up my plan.

Listen, I’m about to kill that man over there.

Well, I’m not going to stop you.

Joseph nods slightly and gets up to go to the bathroom.

Mission accomplished. Now there’s nothing standing between Boris and that gun.


Joseph is standing at the sink washing his face in front of a mirror. He is obviously thinking about what he is planning to do. The bathroom seems to be unnaturally white in comparison to Joseph’s appearance.

I can’t be nervous. I have to be cool, calm, and collected if I plan on doing this right. I look at my reflection as if I am trying to intimidate myself.

Joseph walks over to the trash can and reaches in. After only a couple seconds of digging, he finds a small parcel wrapped in the kind of wrapping butchers use to wrap meat. He unwraps the gun and throws the wrapping away. He heads back over to the mirror and looks at the gun in his hand, then at his reflection. He wipes his sweat with a paper towel from the dispenser.

(speaking to his reflection) Don’t blow this. This is your only shot.

With that, Joseph puts the gun inside his jacket, exits the bathroom, and heads back to his table.


Joseph sits down at the table. Boris is still eating his meal. Joseph does not pick up his utensils. He stares at Boris.

This is it. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.

Joseph begins to slide his hand into his jacket. Slowly but surely he begins to slide his fingers toward his weapon. Suddenly, Boris pulls a handgun from his lap and shoots Joseph in the chest. Joseph slinks down onto the table, blood spattered on his shirt and running from his mouth. Boris nods toward Angie, who raises her glass back at him. Boris takes another bite.
© Copyright 2007 dvance (dvance at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1285446