A Taste Worth Savoring [Short Screenplay]
I’m back at it again with the NYC Midnight competitions. I always find the Short Screenplay competition fun, and it’s sparked some ideas that I’d eventually grown into larger works or entered into other contests, some garnering a few small-time awards.
This time, my prompts didn’t really inspire anything new in me, so I fell back to a short story of mine and made some adjustments to make it work. It came out better than I thought!
Rules of this round: Genre: Drama Location: A Wine Bar Object: An ATM Machine Limits: 5 pages, 2 days
A man on an important life-or-death mission faces the realities of mortality, as he digests the realization of his dark place in its process.
EXT. WINE BAR - NIGHT
Edward (30s) operates an ATM MACHINE. A BRIEFCASE sits on the ground. Owen (30s) stands nearby, back against the wall. Edward grabs cash from the machine, then the briefcase.
OWEN
Can't track cash.
Edward nods nervously, pockets the cash. He's sweating, not looking so well.
OWEN
What's up? You can do this, right?
EDWARD
What? Yeah yeah. Just got a bug or something. I'll be fine.
Owen nods, unconvinced.
OWEN
Alright. C'mon.
CUT TO:
INT. WINE BAR, AT TABLE - A BIT LATER - NIGHT
The place is busy. Owen and Edward sit at a small table, each with a near-empty glass of wine. The briefcase is beside Edward's feet; he's looking worse.
EDWARD
You ever think of dying? Not falling down dead, I mean the process. Emphasis on the "ing," y'know? From the day we're born, we're doing just that. Only one result. Some day, dead.
OWEN
Yeah. No. But by the looks of you, you might be getting close.
Owen checks his watch.
OWEN (CONT'D)
Shit, I need to hit the head. You get us a couple more, yeah? You good? Won't be long now.
Edward nods. Owen heads for the restrooms.
INT. WINE BAR, AT BAR - NIGHT
Edward waves some cash at the passing-by BARTENDER.
EDWARD
Hey. A couple Trésor, here?
He's ignored. The bartender passes again. Edward waves.
EDWARD
Hey!
He's again ignored, as though he doesn't exist.
OLDER WOMAN
Trésor. Nice choice. 2009, I hope.
Surprised, Edward whrils to his left, where an OLDER WOMAN (60s, English) sits at the bar sipping wine, admiring him. Edward nods a nervous "okay," and begins to turn away.
OLDER WOMAN (CONT'D)
Shame you can't drink it when you're dead.
Again, Edward whirls, fuming.
EDWARD
And what the hell is that supposed to mean?
She rolls her eyes, nods in the direction of Edward's table. There sits Edward, head on the table, as if resting. Dumbfounded, the Edward at the bar flips his gaze several times between the table and the woman.
EDWARD (CONT'D)
That...?
The woman nods, amused. With Edward, realization sinks in.
EDWARD (CONT'D)
And you? You can't be...
The woman shrugs.
OLDER WOMAN
You expect a scythe and a black cloak, do you? Grrr.
EDWARD
So I'm dead. That's it?
The woman takes a long sip of wine, then a slow shake of her head.
OLDER WOMAN
I'm not quite done with you yet.
EDWARD
Done with me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
OLDER WOMAN
Edward, have you ever had something so good that you simply wished it would never end? A delicious piece of candy as a child? A drug-induced high? A girl, perhaps?
EDWARD
So you're, what? You're using me?
OLDER WOMAN
Using? More like ... savoring.
EDWARD
Savor? You make it sound like I'm a piece of meat. Like I'm food.
OLDER WOMAN
Well that's precisely what you are to me, Edward. I don't eat, per se. You're not food so much to me as you are sustenance. As all the dead are. As all the dying, as you know, become. Just minutes ago you thought of dying and of how every living thing undergoes the process from the moment of creation. Right you are. Right you are.
The woman's eyes dart about, as though to ensure prying ears won't spy upon what juicy secrets she's about to spill.
OLDER WOMAN (CONT'D)
At birth comes my first bite, you see. Just a tiny one. Just enough for a taste. An amuse-bouche. I suppose you could say it's quite like the first stage of digestion, actually. I must say, at times it's a bit too good to take from the start, and then it's all over with right quick; just can't help myself, I'm afraid. And then there are the usual ones, the ones that will do just fine as they are. In due time they're finished off as well. But there are some I just want to hold onto a little longer. Their flavor. It's too good. Worth savoring, you see.
(Beat)
And that's you. Your dying is delicious, Edward.
Edward gulps.
EDWARD
If you're not ready for me, why the hell am I here? Why are you taking me now?
The woman pouts with disappointment.
OLDER WOMAN
Isn't it obvious? I'm not here for you, Edward.
Edward follows the woman's gaze as she scans over all of the bar patrons, stopping on the briefcase on the floor by dead Edward's feet.
OLDER WOMAN (CONT'D)
One way or another, Edward, my dinner is about to be served. If you want to go, you'd best be doing so now. Otherwise ... I've got quite the feast ahead of me, don't I?
As the woman puts the glass of wine to her lips ...
CUT TO:
INT. WINE BAR, AT TABLE - IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING - NIGHT
Edward snaps awake with a snort as Owen approaches the table.
OWEN
Hey. I thought I said to get us a couple more.
Edward's speechless, confused. A BELL RING as the outer door opens, and two WELL-DRESSED MEN enter, all business. Owen recognizes them, turns to Edward.
OWEN (CONT'D)
Targets are here. This is it. You know what to do. I'll meet you outside.
Owen leaves the table and exits as the two well-dressed men are seated. Edward stiffens, throws a look toward the bar. The older woman raises her glass to him.
OLDER WOMAN
Most consider people like you disgusting and vile. Not me, Edward. Certainly not me.
Locking eyes with the woman, he reaches beneath his seat, opens the briefcase, and flips a switch inside before closing it again.
EXT. WINE BAR - NIGHT
Edward exits, head bowed, ashen. He meets up with Owen, and they start down the street.
OWEN
I know. Puts a sour taste in my mouth too. But it's for the good of the country. You just gotta stomach the fact that collateral damage is just part of the job.
(Beat)
We need to disappear. Let's go get something to eat.
FADE TO BLACK
END