Collision Course – 1 page screenplay

This is a 1-page screenplay I wrote for a competition I entered.

My critics say the end was too cliche. I hope this happens to them >:-)

 

 

Collision Course

By

Black Ty

 

 

FADE IN:

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

ANONIMOUS MAN sleeping in a bed. His eyes open. He is awake. Sirens blare outside. He can hear people shouting. His mind starts racing with questions. All of which he asks himself aloud while laying on his back.

ANONIMOUS MAN

Why is it so damn hot in here? Where the hell am I? How did I get here? What’s with the sirens? Did I go out last night? Whose bed am I in? This is not my apartment. Those are not my posters on the wall. These are definitely not my pink sheets. Why am I just in my boxers and socks? Where are my clothes?

He sits up in the bed and tries to make sense of his situation, looking around the room for his pants. He notices that the television is on. The volume is low. It’s the news. A FEMALE REPORTER is saying something that seems important.

ANONIMOUS MAN

Hmmm…I usually fall asleep watching porn.

He isn’t able to make out what she is saying before the sudden change in altitude throws him into a mental maelstrom.

ANONIMOUS MAN

Whoa! How many roofies was I fed last night? My head is pulsating violently; pounding against the walls of my skull as if something were trying to get out.

He lays back down in the bed, rubbing his temples and wincing in pain.

ANONIMOUS MAN

What’s with those damn sirens? Whatever’s going on it is close because I can see the lights flashing in the window. I think I just heard a scream but I’m sure I’m wrong.

He looks down his nose at the television.

ANONIMOUS MAN

Why does it seem like the news is on a continuous loop? She sounds scared. Is she just saying the same thing over and over again? Or am I just that ruined? What’s this in the bed beside me? Is it my cell phone?

As his fingers take hold of it, he is momentarily relieved with the thought of being able to call for help.

ANONIMOUS MAN

No, it’s just the remote control for the T.V. Let me turn this up a little and hope my head doesn’t explode.

He sits up slowly, resting his back on the bed head. He turns up the volume. The reporter is fighting back sobs as she delivers some very bleak news. His mind stops racing with questions; he is focused on what she has to say.

His first instinct is to dismiss this as another media spectacle in which empathy is feigned for more compelling television.

Then he hears what she is saying.

….

 

 

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2 Responses

  1. Is this the end? Where’s the end? What HAPPENED to the end?!

    Shit. This is the end. Dammit. I didn’t get the point. I think I missed it somewhere. Or maybe you didn’t have one.

    Fack.

  2. whoops, let me fix that, the end should be there….soooon

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