INT. EGYPTIAN PALACE – DAY [A PHARAOH paces in his palace room nervously. The sound of horns. The massive doors to the room open. Two small cats enter flanking TINKERS, a gigantic two legged hominoid cat woman twice the size of the pharaoh. Seeing Tinkers, the pharaoh promptly drops to his knees and prostrates himself on the
INT. ARTIST’S STUDIO – DAY [Knock at the door. A young woman (an ARTIST) opens the door to see a young man (a MODEL). The artist ushers him inside.] MODEL: Where do you want me? ARTIST: [She gestures for the model to take his place on the sofa on one side of the studio.] Just over there, thanks. [The artist sets
INT. PSYCHIATRIST’S OFFICE – DAY [A PSYCHIATRIST SITS BY HIS DESK, CLIPBOARD AND PEN IN HAND. THE GRIM REAPER MEANWHILE IS RECLINED ON A LEATHER COUCH.] PSYCHIATRIST: Love. GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST: Good? GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST: Peace. GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST: Work. GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST: Marriage. GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST: Death? GRIM REAPER: Death. PSYCHIATRIST:
INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT [PITCH BLACK ROOM.] GIRL (V.O.): Auntie Jan? JAN (V.O.): Oh no! No! No! I sense darkness! Darkness! GIRL (V.O.): Shall I turn the light back on? JAN (V.O.): Yes please. THE END.
INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN – DAY Toast pops up in the toaster. A young man, alone in the apartment, butters it and covers it with thick red jam. A large orange tomcat walks into the room and stops for a moment to look at the man curiously as the man puts on a set of thick oven mitts.
INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN – DAY LUCY: Martin, coming rowing tomorrow? MICK: I can’t. Tennis elbow. [ZOOM IN ON AN ANGRY FACE ON MARTIN’S ELBOW.] ELBOW: Oy! What did I tell you about wasting time chatting? Get back on the court you bum! Ten thousand balls a day! You know the drill! You wanna be the
INT. DAY – URBAN “CAREER CENTRE” [A CAREER GUIDANCE COUNSELLOR SITS BEHIND A SMALL DESK AND A COMPUTER. ON THE OTHER SIDE SITS A MIDDLE-AGED BEARDED LEONARD DA VINCI.] COUNSELLOR: So, Leonardo, can I call you Leo? What kind of job do you think you might be well-suited for? DA VINCI: I do quite like biology,
[A MAN AND A WOMAN SIT AT AN EMPTY DINNER TABLE.] WOMAN: Look, I’m breaking up with you. I can’t do this anymore. MAN: What isa dis? You tinka you’re jusa gonna run outona me? Who a gonna look after you like I do? Who a gonna provide for you like I do? Whosa a
EXT. URBAN GARDEN – DAY [BIRDS SOFTLY CHIRPING, CRICKETS HUMMING IN THE GRASS, THE DISTANT GROWL OF A LAWN MOWER.] MAN: Mathilda, my dear, why don’t you wear that fancy blue dress? The one you wore last summer? You know, it’s my favourite. No, no. You’re putting it on all wrong. Backwards in fact. Let
INT. TELEVISION STUDIO. [The television show HOST sits with a microphone beside ROBERT, a rather nondescript looking man dressed in nondescript clothes, sitting on a nondescript chair. A live audience looks on.] HOST: Robert, you claim to be able to use one hundred percent of your brain is this correct? ROBERT: Yes, that is correct sir.