Plaid Poetry Thursdays are the days when I post whatever I've written for my writing group in school throughout the week. It's Plaid Poetry because my friend Nicole and I always wear plaid on Thursdays and we sometimes write poetry. This week, I had to write a short film. This is a very rough draft, and there are already some revisions in mind, however I figured I'd post the original here and maybe save the revised version for a later post. :) Enjoy!
Oh and I'm sorry if the formatting is kind of weird. I copied & pasted off of MS Word and Blogger didn't seem to like it much.
(CLICK WHERE IT SAYS "READ MORE" DOWN BELOW!!!)
UNTITLED (Wanna give me a suggestion?)
The main character of this story is a cool, hipster-type young guy. He likes to go to places such as coffee
shops, parks, and art galleries. His name is Al (subject to change).
Al decides to go to a cool coffee shop near home. He has a laptop with him. He orders a mug of coffee and finds a comfortable-looking seat. He slowly opens his laptop, looking excited about whatever he’s about to do. The viewer sees him type or click around a little bit, but he soon stops. He seems frustrated with whatever is on his screen. The viewer sees Al peer over the top of his computer, across the small table at which he is seated.
Al: Uh… who are you?
Across the table from Al, there is a person with a cardboard box over his head. The box has a smiling face painted on it. His name is Blockhead (subject to change). Al shows no signs of confusion/wonder at how a person with a box for a head could exist. He is only confused as to why he’s seated across from him.
Al: Ok, hi. Who are you?
Al: Is there a reason you’re sitting there?
Al: Can I help you? Seriously, dude…
Al: Well… nice to meet you.
Al: Um… I’m… waiting for someone else to get here. I’m saving that seat, you know?
Blockhead still says nothing, but leans forward, resting his arms on the table.
Al: Well I guess you can sit there… just don’t distract me.
Al starts to type away on his computer, but at a stop-and-go pace, as though he’s not really getting any work done. He sighs and puts his elbow on the table, face in palm. Blockhead continues to sit and smile.
Al: It looks like I’m not getting anything done… and… my friend, you know, the one whose spot you stole? That friend probably isn’t going to show up, so I think I’m going to leave.
Blockhead stays seated while Al picks up his computer, finishes off his coffee, and leaves the coffee shop.
Al wanders around town for a short amount of time. Every once in a while, the viewer can see Blockhead lurking in the background. Al never spots it, but occasionally looks around/over his shoulder as though he is being followed. He eventually finds himself at a park and decides to sit on a nice bench. He opens his laptop and again begins to work. An extreme close-up shows Al’s eyes, squinted at his computer. A long shot of the bench shows Al, working, and sitting on the other end of the bench is Blockhead, who is facing Al.
Al: For your information, I’m trying to work, here.
Al: See? (Al shows Blockhead his laptop for a second but quickly turns it back to himself). It’s a work in progress.
Al: You could stop looking at me like that… I don’t even know you.
Al: Wait, did you follow me here? (Al seems a little creeped out.)
Al: Great, so now I’ve got a stalker… who doesn’t talk… or do anything except distract me. I’m out of here.
Al gets up and walks away, leaving Blockhead to watch him walk away.
Al is seen walking up to a house. He unlocks the front door and goes inside. Frustrated, Al tosses his keys away and drops his laptop on the nearest couch. He finds a snack and starts to munch. Al glances around the room, as if he feels like he’s being watched. Al finds a newspaper and sinks into his chair, opening the paper so that the viewer can’t see anything but his legs and hands. After a moment of reading, Al peers over the newspaper. (The idea is to trick the viewer into thinking Blockhead is going to appear here.) Al goes back to reading but soon gets bored and decides to switch back to his laptop. He sits on the couch and starts to type and click away. He’s typing with purpose this time, as though he’s actually getting something done. Suddenly, a hand taps Al on the shoulder.
Al: WHO ARE YOU?
Al: How did you get inside my house?
Blockhead points at the front door, which is now ajar.
Al: Get out or I’m calling the cops!
Al: What do you want?
Blockhead points at the laptop.
Al: You want my laptop? No way!
Blockhead points at the screen of the laptop
Al: You want… the screen?
Al: Or… what’s on the screen? What are you, some kind of writing freak?
Blockhead tries to grab Al’s laptop. Al pushes Blockhead away.
Al: Ok, it’s on!
Al sets his laptop aside and pushes Blockhead back. Blockhead fights back. The two briefly shove each other back and forth. Al is clearly the stronger in the fight. He manages to push Blockhead out the door, who rolls out onto the lawn. Al fakes as though he is about to run out after Blockhead, but Blockhead gets up and walks away. The front door shuts.
The last shot is of Blockhead, sitting on the curb, alone. This is the only point in the whole short where Blockhead has a frown instead of a smile on his face.
So there you have it, my short film. YAY.