Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Remote: Part III

Wide shot of the interior of the office. Suddenly, JOHNSON emerges from his cubicle carrying his monitor and yelling as he runs for the window.

2 - Ext. Office - Day - 2

The monitor explodes out from the window.

3 - Int. Office - Day - 3

JOHNSON turns from the hole in the window to face his co-workers, all staring from their offices and cubicles.

A beat. JOHNSON catches his breath, lifts the remote, and...

Suddenly, we're back inside JOHNSON's cubicle. His monitor is returned to its normal spot, and JOHNSON is sitting, still holding the remote like he was before.

Short montage here: JOHNSON smacks his attractive female co-worker's rear in passing, JOHNSON dances on his desk, JOHNSON watches his building burn from the parking lot.

4 - Int. BOSS's Office - Day - 4

Inside the BOSS's office, the BOSS at his desk. The inside of this office is just as the rest of the setting - gray, mostly. We see photographs on the BOSS's desk, but, instead of his family, there are pictures of his car and of him at the pool with babes. Also on the desk: a protein shake, several empty Red Bulls, and a bodybuilding magazine.

The BOSS himself is blonde, good-looking, and wearing an expensive suit. He works at his computer, until JOHNSON enters.

The BOSS stands up upon seeing JOHNSON, who strolls straight up to his superior and, before either one has time to say anything, punches him straight in the nose. There's an audible crack at connection.

BOSS (enraged)
Johnson, what the fuck is your problem?

JOHNSON pulls out the remote smoothly.

JOHNSON
Oh, no problem, boss.

He clicks the remote.

Nothing happens.

He clicks at again, and then again. His BOSS is still in front of him, dripping blood from a broken nose. JOHNSON, meanwhile, is at a loss for words - his remote is suddenly broken.

Cut to JOHNSON, still clutching the remote, then to the BOSS, his reddening face clearly showing his rage. The BOSS inhales and prepares to scream.

Freeze.

On-screen: THE REMOTE.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

The Remote: Part II

Back inside the cubicle, JOHNSON's phone rings. He reaches for it as he peruses a piece of paper from the stack, and, as he does so, he accidentally knocks all of the files and the remote onto the floor. He swears and picks up the phone.

JOHNSON (flustered)
Hello? Hello? No, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number.

He hangs up, frustrated, and leans down to pick up what he dropped. He picks up the remote first and tosses it on the desk, button-side down.

Insert: the remote hitting the desk with enough force to press the button.

JOHNSON leans back down to get the rest of the papers.

They aren't there.

He leans back up towards his desk, and, there they are - exactly how they were before he dropped them. He looks at the ground again, then back up at the papers.

A beat. JOHNSON continues to stare around. Was this a trick? Did anyone see? He back at his papers, and then notices, finally: the remote.

Another beat.

JOHNSON, now starting to understand what we've realized from the beginning, picks a pen from a mug on his desk and puts it carefully on the desk in front of him.

JOHNSON regards the pen. The pen regards JOHNSON. JOHNSON blinks, and then he presses the remote.

The pen is back in the mug.

JOHNSON stares. He stares for a while, I mean, because what do you do when you figure this kind of thing out, and then JOHNSON - God have mercy on his soul - JOHNSON smiles.

Friday, August 26, 2011

The Remote: Part I

1 - Int. Office - Day - 1

Close-up of a small package neatly wrapped in brown paper.

Further out: the package is sitting on a gray desk in a gray cubicle. The cubicle itself is overwhelmingly non-descript - a computer, a stapler, a few file folders.

Further out once more, now from the outside of the cubicle looking in. The package remains visible.

ON-SCREEN: THE REMOTE

Enter JOHNSON, young, with dark hair, in a short-sleeved white shirt and a gray plaid tie. He glances at his watch to find he’s a little late. He puts his briefcase down next to his desk and then, as he goes to sit down, notices a massive stack of papers on his chair. He picks a sticky note off the top.

Insert: the note, which reads, “I needed these yesterday!!! Get them to me ASAP!”

JOHNSON sighs and crinkles up the note.

He picks up the papers and put them all on his desk, and then, sitting, turns to his computer.

Then he notices the package.

He examines it briefly, turning it over in his hands - it’s clear he doesn’t know what or from whom it is. He tears into it with his letter opener.

Inside the paper lies a remote, dark, with one small replay button and nothing else.

JOHNSON inspects the remote for a moment. We see him examining it from outside his cubicle, where a woman walks by in a dark pantsuit.

From inside the cubicle again: JOHNSON, finding nothing else to do with it, presses the replay button.

Nothing seems to have happened. He puts down the remote on his desk and turns to the stack of papers.

From outside the cubicle, though, we see the woman in the pantsuit walk by again - from the same direction as last time.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Jeremy Silverberg, 37, Upon His Graduation From Life

Ah, er- I was just walking my dog in town, and the truck lost control, and I assume, well- I'm dead, aren't I? This is it?

[Laughter]

This is it. Wow.

[A beat, more laughter]

I'm just saying that it's the kind of thing you always hear about happening, but here I am. Does everyone get this? Is this heaven? What's even going on?

[The speaker leans from the microphone, some inaudible discussion between him and someone backstage]

Oh, I see. Well, like, don't take life for granted, spend more time with your family, and, uh-

[Last Pause]

Look, I just died or whatever, can I at least get a minute to make some notes?

Thursday, August 04, 2011

Powers

Something's coming, and I know you can feel it just as well as I can - in the way your top sheet is fitting so perfectly, in the bread that you've had for a month that won't run out or grow stale, in the electricity you feel under your fingers. You can pretend not to notice it all you want, but the fact is plain: science is dying and we're making out like bandits in the will. You have powers, friend. It might be time you decide how you're going to use them.