MASON
SCENE 3,
MASON
TITLE CARD:
MASON
INT. LLOYD’s HOUSE
Music Track: Bang, Bang –- Nancy Sinatra
MASON sat there. Full concentration. Mind flowing
somewhere else. The music played in the distance. Sit there for approximately 1 min.
NICK:
(O.S.)
Mason.
(A beat)
Mason. Listen. Um. I’m sorry.
MASON looked up at, the unseen, NICK. Dried tears were draped down his cheeks. He didn’t seem like the kind of man that could cry easily. He just looked at NICK.
NICK:
(O.S.)
I know sorry doesn’t cover what
has happened. I know. Except-
I’ve got nothin’ else to say.
More silence from MASON. The music kept playing. NICK exhaled his held, breath.
NICK:
(O.S.)
It’s just...
(A beat)
There’s nothin’ else. You know?
I did my job. I followed. I spied.
I tried callin’.
(A beat)
I did my job.
MASON looked at him. His facial expression grew angry. NICK had said the wrong thing.
MASON:
(Angry)
You did your job?
(A beat)
You called me? You followed, whoever,
did this? You spied on who it was?
(A beat)
Except, guess what, Nick.
(A beat)
The guy who you were trailing.
The guy you were spying on.
The guy who killed my son isn’t
here in handcuffs. No. Why?
(A beat)
It wasn’t rhetorical. Why?
NICK knew it wasn’t rhetorical. He knew damn well.
NICK:
(O.S.)
He got free.
MASON:
Did he get free, or did you let
him go free?
A beat.
NICK:
(O.S.)
I let him go.
A beat. MASON sighed. He stood up and got close to NICK SPRINT’s face. Inches.
MASON:
You let the man who killed my
son, the man whom we’ve been
tracking, go free?
(A beat)
Why? Once again - not rhetorical.
NICK looked away. There was no way he could look MASON in the eye. He glared at the carpet.
MASON:
(Angry)
Answer me, Ashley!
NICK looked at MASON angrily. Hew confidence sparked into him.
NICK:
(Through clenched teeth)
Ashley, is not a name I go by.
MASON:
Really? Well, Nick just doesn’t
seem to suit me.
NICK:
Mason. I know what happened must’ve
sucked. Actually I wouldn’t know.
I’ve never had a kid. Except I can
imagine the pain you’re goin’
through. Trust me.
(A beat)
But whatever you must be feelin’.
The feelin’ that’s boilin’, has
gotta be redirected somewhere else.
Because honestly... I did my fuckin
job. Your not my boss. I’ve
explained why I did what I’ve done to
the proper people.
(A beat)
Your not one of them. So do me a
favor - Skip the whole ‘It’s your
fault routine,’ will ya?
(A beat)
I didn’t pull the fucking trigger.
MASON was silent. NICK had him pinned and he knew it.
MASON:
(Calmed)
That doesn’t answer my question.
NICK looked off. Trying to ignore MASON’s watery eyes.
NICK:
(Looking back)
Why? Why is Willy McKaye free?
MASON was silent.
NICK:
He’s free because I let him go free.
(A beat)
Next your question is probably
why did I let him go.
(A beat)
I let him go to keep the cover.
To insure that he didn’t grow
suspicious.
A beat. MASON grew angry again.
MASON:
To keep the cover? Tell me, Nick,
when do you intend on showing your
true colors?
(A beat)
True you did a good job to keep
your cover. Except it cost me my
son’s life.
NICK scoffed. He started to walk off.
MASON: (o.s.)
Where the fuck do you think you’re
going?
NICK stopped. He turned to face MASON. He walked back to become face to face with him.
NICK:
You honestly think that I’m gonna
stand here and let you make a fool
of me?
(A beat)
I’m goin’ home.
He began to walk off again.
MASON:
NICK!
A beat.
NICK: (o.s.)
What?
MASON:
You don’t have your car.
(A beat)
Give me a minute and I’ll
give you a lift.
MASON stood in frame and waited for NICK to answer. A long pause.
NICK:
(Slowly)
Yea. Sure.
(A beat)
I’ll be outside.
MASON sighed. Sat back down and picked the corners of his eyes. Once again he sat there for a better part of ninety seconds. The music swaying.
The music ends.
CRAZY MITCH:
(Radio; O.S.)
Alright, 103.4, it’s time for
our first caller.
(A beat)
OK. You’re on the air. What’s
your name?
A figure arrived at the door way of the spare bedroom.
CRAZY MITCH:
(Radio; O.S.)
Alrighty, we have Greg on the
phone. Tell us Greg, where you
CRAZY MITCH: (contd.)
(Radio; O.S.)
from?
The figure in the background walked up to MASON. Placed his hand on his shoulder. MASON just sat there, eyes closed.
JEREMY:
(O.S.)
Mason.
(A beat)
We need to talk.
CRAZY MITCH:
(Radio; O.S.)
Clarksburg. My neck of the
woods.
MASON opened his eyes. Cocked his head to look over the railing.
MASON:
(Ordering)
Will someone turn that off?
EXTRA # 1:
(O.S.)
Can’t!
(A beat)
Evidence!
MASON sighed. Unrelieved that the man said ‘no’.
JEREMY:
(Bossing)
Turn the damn thing off now!
The radio stopped. It no longer played throughout the house. Silence! Nothing is heard.
JEREMY:
(Kindly)
Can we talk?
MASON:
(Worn out; Giving in)
Why not? Where ya wanna talk?
A beat.
JEREMY:
I was hopin’ somewhere a lil’
more private.
(A beat)
But I’m leavin the choice up
to you.
MASON:
(Uncaring)
Is - Is, um, the subject - Would
it have anything to do with the
fact that the victim and I - share
the same last name?
JEREMY was silent. MASON looked up. REVEAL JEREMY’S face. He looked wide-awake. Expecting all this. Used to the crime-drama that happens in his life.
JEREMY:
(Nodding)
Yea. It could have something to
do with that.
MASON was silent. He rubbed his facial hair, as to wipe off something. He stood up. About the same height as JEREMY.
MASON:
Yea, lets talk more private.
He started to walk toward the bathroom.
–- cut –-
MASON entered the bathroom. It was trashed. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toilet paper, and other bathroom accessories were strung all over the place.
MASON pulled out a pencil and began to move things; examining.
MASON:
(Slowly)
Alright.... So whattya wanna know?
He crouched down and picked up the toothbrush smelling it.
JEREMY:
(O.S.)
Well, I just got off the phone
with Dickinson.
(A beat; MASON stood up and
walked over to another strung -
piece of evidence)
What he had to tell me was, uh -
He paused. Trying to think of a way to word his next sentence. MASON stood up and walked towards the sink.
MASON:
(Picking the gun out)
What’s this?
JEREMY paused. Looked at the gun.
JEREMY:
(Shrugging)
Evidence.
(MASON allowed the gun
to slide back into the sink;
Walked back to floor)
So...
(A beat)
Bruce told me the victim’s name.
MASON began to examine the upside down, heroin kit. He used his pencil to flip it over.
JEREMY:
I guess what I’m tryin’ to say
is - more like ask, is... Did
you and the victim have any
relations?
MASON pulled the picture of AMY out from the upside down kit. He stood up, straightening his pants, he faced JEREMY.
MASON:
(Ignoring the question)
Who is this?
This question took JEREMY by surprise.
JEREMY:
Uh. I don’t know. There is an
identical picture of her down-
stairs.
MASON looked at the picture. Frowned.
JEREMY:
Corner said he was looking at
the photograph when - - when it
happened.
MASON smirked. He slipped the picture inside his pocket. He faced JEREMY. He seemed renewed.
MASON:
(Calm)
What were you saying?
JEREMY was taken back by MASON’s apparent change.
JEREMY:
(Slowly)
Um. Uh. Bruce Dickinson called.
MASON nodded in understanding.
MASON:
Yea, yea, I suppose he looked
at Lloyd’s file.
JEREMY was silent. He shook his head: “YES.”
MASON:
(Silently)
Yea. To answer your question. Yes.
JEREMY nodded.
JEREMY:
(Handing over a file)
This is all the information we
could get from the informant
department.
MASON accepted the file.
JEREMY:
(Leaning on door sill)
Based on what went down here...
That file has alotta information.
(A beat)
Just take a look at it. Mull things
over.
MASON opened the file and glared at it.
JEREMY:
Go home. Come back whenever you
think you’re ready.
MASON looked at JEREMY. Snapped the file shut. Placed it under his arm.
MASON:
(Silently)
Thanks.
No more was said. MASON walked past JEREMY. He walked downstairs. FOLLOW him. He reached the screen door.
EXT. LLOYD’S HOME
MASON stepped out on the porch. NICK was leaning against the wall. He straightened up whenever MASON arrived.
NICK:
(Friendly)
What took so long?
MASON continued to walk. He didn’t say anything. He simply just entered his vehicle. Ignored NICK’s look, whom too entered the car.
MASON started up the car. The radio was on:
MUSIC TRACK: It’s So Easy –- Willy Deville
MASON turned down the music to almost nothing. He reversed the car and began to drive.
NICK:
(Slowly)
I assume - - You want to know
exactly what happened?
MASON didn’t answer immediately. He just drove. Ignored everything NICK did.
NICK:
I mean, cuz if you ain’t gonna
talk than the rides pointless.
MASON:
Cuz? Nick you’re not on the job.
Use real, respectable-civilian
language. Because. Try it.
(A beat)
And yes. I wanna know exactly
what the fuck happened. . . .
So enlighten me.
Now it was NICK’s turn
Blog Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
Added on: 08/12/2007 20:49:35
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Lloyd
SCENE 2,
LLOYD
INT. LLOYD'S HOUSEHOLD –– NIGHT
Easily one in the morning. The household was silent. Except for the distance sounds of LLOYD.
LLOYD: (o.s.) Yea. I totally am. Dead fucking serious.
(Pause)
Sorry. I know. Yea, well your very demanding.
(Pause)
No. No, problem. Just a whole bunch of questions. Yes, I promised.
(Pause)
I'm not the type to lie. Especially not to anyone like you.
(Sarcastic; mysterious)
I try to keep a good resume. What can I say?
LLOYD was sitting in the computer room. His feet propped upon the desk. The cordless phone between left hand and left ear. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a pair of jeans.
LLOYD: Really?... Well I'm sorry.
(Pause)
I guess I can. So, yea... Alright. I'll call you back tomorrow. Around what time?
(Pause)
OK. I will. Alright. Later -
(He smiled)
Yes. Totally. I do. Really. Alright. I love you... Good-night.
He hung up. Laid the phone on the desk. He ruffled his hair quickly. Sighed. Stood up and stretched. Yawned. Walked out into the living room.
On the television "I Love Lucy" was on. LLOYD watched long enough to chuckle at one of the jokes. He snatched the remote and shut it off. He walked into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Grabbed a bottle of Vodka from the shelf.
–– - Cut - -
LLOYD walked into his bedroom. He limped slightly. Made his way toward the bed. Pulled the sheets back, and slumped into the comfortable mattress. He pulled the sheet to his chin.
His eyes snapped open. He growled in anger as he jumped up and limped to the light switch.
- GOES DARK
EXT. LLOYD'S HOUSEHOLD –– NIGHT
The night air was dark. Silent. Cold. Only thing visible was that being illuminated by the street light.
It was bright. Daytime. Easily ten A.M.
INT. LLOYD'S HOUSEHOLD - DAY
LLOYD slept upon the bed. Comfortably. The clock shined 10:14 A.M. on the bedside table. LLOYD continued to sleep. He was comfortably sleeping. The clock switched to 10: 15 A.M. The alarm clock started.
CRAZY MITCH: (over radio) Good-mornin' Clarksburg. This is Crazy Mitch with 103.4. It is 10:15 and all you constant tuners know what that means. It means ads from our favorite shop owners. Maynard's Pawn. Located 1408 Helm Street. Maynard is having a huge blowout sale!
LLOYD sat up, tiredly.
CRAZY MITCH: You know the drill. Go on down. Check out all the equipment you could buy! Hammers! Bats! Chainsaws! Guitars! Samurai Swords! You name it, Maynard's got it!
LLOYD yawned as he slapped the alarm clock. CRAZY MITCH's broadcast went silent. LLOYD scratched his scalp and stood up. He readjusted his crotch. Walked out of the bedroom, and into the adjacent room.
COMMENTATIVE SOUND: LLOYD PISSING
LLOYD walked back up, pulling his sweat pants to a close. He slumped softly into the bedroom, again. Hunched in front of the, hanging, mirror. He stared at himself, untouched. As if he were watching a boring film.
LLOYD: (silently) Jesus. Lloyd.
He smiled.
You're a lucky motherfucker.
He exited frame. Leaving the mirror empty for a while. In the reflecting mirror; LLOYD is there he hovers in front of his dresser. Picks up some sort of paper. Walks back to the mirror. Carefully places the piece of paper on the mirror, wedged between frame and glass. (Picture of AMY). LLOYD walked away.
He headed back into the small hallway.
COMMENTATIVE SOUND: Cell Phone ringing
LLOYD stopped. He turned around and walked back to the side table. He snatched the cell phone.
LLOYD: Hello?
(Pause)
Hey, Will.
(Pause) Walks out of the room. Skips downstairs.
LLOYD: Yea, I just woke up.
Walks to the fridge. Opens it and begins to look for something to eat.
LLOYD: Yea. You know me extremely well.
(Pause)
Yep. Everyday. Well, what can I do for you?
His smile and enthusiasm died immediately. He seemed hurt, slightly.
LLOYD: Yea. Yea. I got some. Um. Yea. Uh, how much?
(Pause)
Yes. Yes, that's perfect.
He smiled.
Alright. Yea, I'll see you in about thirty minutes.... Alright. Later.
He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the counter. Walked over the over head cabinet. Pulled out a box of poptarts. Ripped one open. Slipped it into the toaster. Pushed on the plunger. Walked back to the fridge, while smacking his hands clean.
LLOYD: (melody) American woman... stay away from me-he. American woman... momma let me be-he.
Opened the fridge. Continued to sign the song while looking for something.
LLOYD: Don't comma knockin' around my door. I don't wanna see your face no more....
Pulled out a Sprite. He opened it and took a heavy swig. Closed the fridge with his foot. Walked back to the toaster.
LLOYD: (singing) Gonna see her today! Yea! Gonna see her today!
He did a mini moonwalk. Clapped his hands. He chuckled at his own immaturity. Walked back to the toaster. Took another drink of Sprite. Sighed.
COMMENTATIVE SOUND: HOUSE PHONE RINGING
LLOYD looked in the direction of the computer room.
LLOYD: (quietly) Dammit.
He walked, with a limp, into the computer room. Grabbed the phone -
LLOYD: Little early ain't it?
(Pause)
Yes. Yes, I did. Aren't you happy?
(Pause)
Dear, Lord I hoped you were. Um. It's about 10:23 in the A.M. Why?
(Pause)
Sure. Yep. OK. See you then.
He hung up that phone and carried it with him back into the kitchen. The poptarts popped up as he laid that phone down. LLOYD smirked at his timing.
Picked up a poptart and handled it carefully. He blew on it. Gingerly took a bite.
LLOYD: (quietly) This is a tasty poptart.
He took another bite. Chuckled and walked off. He sat down on the chair. Grabbed the remote and flicked the television on. THE DEVIL BAT was on. The beginning scene. LLOYD was affected. He laid the remote down, and watched. He ate at the poptart while watching the film.
Silence was written throughout the house. Except for the film, and the sound of LLOYD chewing the poptart. After he finished it, he sighed and stood up. He walked to the fireplace. Reached into the chimney and pulled down a small, black pouch.
Our heroine carried the pouch to the table and sat it down. Without taking a backward glance he walked back into the living room. Sat down and watched the film. Time passed as LLOYD ignored the pouch that he had so carelessly sat on the table... Then - He looked. Glances over at the pouch, and moans quietly. Timid, he looked back at the t.v.
LLOYD glanced back. He sighed as he stood up and walked back to the pouch.
LLOYD: (quietly) Fuck.
He walked back to the chair. Sat down. Placed the kit onto his lap, and made to up-zip it. He opened the pouch, and froze.... Smiled to himself and shut it. Stood up, slowly, and walked the kit back to the table. Then walked back to the chair. Sat down. Ignored the kit from there on.
THE DEVIL BAT continued to play.
LLOYD still watched intently. He sighed as he leaned back and rubbed his face. He stood up and walked his way back into the computer room.
MUSIC TRACK: Golden Years –– - David Bowie
LLOYD walked back out. The music was playing loudly. Drowning out DEVIL BAT.
CUT: Bathroom -
CU: LLOYD'S FEET- Clothing dropped around his feet. Walks to the shower booth. Pauses. Disappears into the shower. Water begins to run.
LLOYD allowed the water to his face. He started to sing along, quietly.
EXT. LLOYD'S HOME
It was a beautiful morning. No one was around. No noise was heard. A car pulled into the driveway. Inside the car were two people - NICK and WILLY.
NICK turned off the car. He sighed and looked back at WILLY.
NICK: OK! I'll be back in an hour.
WILLY was silent. He just looked down. Fiddling with something.
NICK: OK?
WILLY looked up. He nodded "Yes."
NICK: OK. Good. So. Um. Good luck. And please... just do whatcha gotta do. OK?
WILLY nodded again. He sighed as he exited the vechile. He leaned into the window frame and looked at NICK.
WILLY: You know the later you are... the better. I mean - Just a suggestion. You know? I've done this shit before. Just not like this.
NICK was silent. He just stared at WILLY.
NICK: I'll be back in an hour and half.
WILLY nodded thankfully. He patted on the window frame. He walked off. He walked upon the porch. (Car pulls out). WILLY held a 9mm in his right hand. As he walked down the porch he slipped the pistol inside his waistband.
He reached the door. Knocked.
INT. LLOYD'S HOUSE
LLOYD walked out of the bathroom. Towel wrapped tightly around his waist. His hair was still, dripping wet. The music still played loudly. He walked proudly up the steps and through the big room.
Opened a door that led him to his room. He reached for his sweat pants. Just then a knock came from the door again. LLOYD turned. He sighed. Quickly threw the sweat pants on.
EXT. LLOYD'S HOUSE
WILLY stood on the porch. He looked distracted. Wearing tight black jeans, solid black t-shirt, and a jacket. His hair was in a cheap FLOCK OF SEAGULLS. A fresh scar ran from his mid cheek down to mid neck.
He knocked again... Waits. LLOYD approaches the door. He smiled. LLOYD opened the door.
LLOYD: WILL! How the fuck are ya?
He moved aside to allow WILLY enter the house. However, WILLY just stood there. He opened up his arms for a hug.
WILLY: Hey, bitch.
They shared a friendly hug.
LLOYD: Get your fucking ass in here!
The two joked liked this often. WILLY walked in. He looked around. LLOYD allowed the door to close behind him. He stood with his arms crossed.
LLOYD: Twice in one week. Wow. I gotta say that's some shit that don't happen a lot.
WILLY: Yea, but you know you've enjoyed looking at my pretty face.
LLOYD chuckled.
LLOYD: Yea. We can go with that. So.
(Walking into kitchen)
Can I offer you something to drink?
WILLY sat on the arm of the couch. He looked around.
WILLY: When did you redecorate?
LLOYD was busy pulling sandwich ingredients out. Including mayonnaise, ham, cheese, and turkey.
LLOYD: Uh. Like three months ago.
He began to make his sandwich. WILLY chuckled. He started to dig th
Blog Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
Added on: 08/12/2007 20:48:07
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Tim and Sam
Prologue
This scene is in complete reference to PULP FICTION. "BRUCE WILLIS & Mira de Medeiros"
Scene 1,
Prologue
INT. Car - Afternoon
The two sat in the car. TIM and SAM. TIM sat behind the drivers seat. SAM sat in the passenger. Rain pounded upon the windshield.
SAM: Turn on the radio.
TIM glanced over at SAM. A disgusted look on his face.
TIM: Excuse me?
SAM looked over and him and smirked, uncomfortably.
SAM: Turn on the radio. It was a suggestion. So don't give me that fucking look.
TIM: Turn on the radio. It wasn't a suggestion. It was a demand. Fuck you.
He went back to looking the windshield. SAM looked repulsed by TIM's attitude. She scoffed and looked back outside the window.
SAM: Jesus. Where the fuck is Willy?
TIM slowly turned toward her. He looked at her.
TIM: He's not even fucking late. As a matter of fact we're
early.
SAM moaned and rolled around eyes. She shifted herself and looked back at TIM.
SAM: Just cuz you haven't got your high don't mean you need to fucking take it out on me. Alright? Only reason that I came was to make sure Willy doesn't fuck you over again.
TIM: What is that suppose to mean?
SAM: Exactly as it sounds. Every time you're alone with Will you lose out at least fifty bucks.
TIM scoffed. He looked outside his window. Thinking of what to say next.
TIM: I do not lose out fifty bucks every time. What about the time uh... uh.... uh.... uh, 4th of July. Last year. Remember?
SAM: You know why?
(Pause)
Exactly. Because I was with you.
TIM chuckled embarrassed. He brushed his hair back with his hand.
TIM: So what? Willy won't rip me off cuz you're with me. Is that what you're sayin'?
SAM nodded: "yes"
SAM: Yes. That is exactly what I am saying.
TIM was defeated. He had nothing else to say. SAM shifted happily. The two shared silence together.
TIM: I love you.
SAM moaned with aggravation. She looked back at TIM.
SAM: Don't start with that shit.
TIM raised his voice to argue his case.
TIM: What shit? All I said was that I love you. As a matter of fact I believe that I even used those words: "I love you."
SAM: You only say, "I love you" if you have some sort of argument.
TIM was taken back by this. He scoffed.
TIM: (jokingly) I do not. I say it all the time.
SAM used this to get hateful. She rose her voice.
SAM: Only whenever you fucking want something.
TIM used his next words carefully. Like a man trying plead his case.
TIM: No, I don't. I say it whenever I mean it. Like right now. I love you.
SAM: Bullshit, Tim. You won't even turn on the goddamn radio.
TIM sighed as he laid his head back. He leaned forward the flipped the radio on.
MUSIC TRACK: Paralyzer –- Finger Eleven
SAM leaned forward a flipped it off.
SAM: Fuck it. I don't want it on now. Not if I have to fucking beg you for it.
TIM was silent. He intended on turning on the radio for her. He looked at her. Silently trying to tell her that he wanted the radio on.
TIM: You don't want the radio on, anymore?
SAM: Not if you're gonna fucking whine. If your gonna whine I don't wanna do anything.
TIM sighed. He looked out the window again. He hated it when she got like this.
TIM: You know - Is that really fucking necessary?
SAM looked at him silently. This was where she began to apologize.
SAM: Sorry, but -
TIM ignored her. She knew it, and fell silent. The two shared deep silence together. TIM reached up and scratched his forearm.
SAM: We still gonna go and drop that thing off tomorrow?
TIM knew what she was trying to do. So he decided to humor her. He sighed and looked at her.
TIM: Depends.
SAM: Depends on what?
TIM: Depends on how well you treat me tonight.
SAM smiled. She leaned forward and, passionately, kissed TIM.
SAM: (sexy) You know I really want to get rid of that package?
TIM smiled again. He kissed SAM again.
TIM: Yea. I know. You know what I really want.
SAM smiled again. She kissed TIM.
SAM: Yea. I know what you want, and you’re gonna get it.
TIM: You scratch my back... I'll scratch yours.
SAM smiled. She leaned in for another kiss.
Blog Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
Added on: 08/12/2007 20:45:44
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