WEEK THREE ~ A DRINK ON THE ROOF

**Already planning on expanding this one. It's based on the Lakewood police shootings that happened a year ago.

A DRINK ON THE ROOF

By

Kyle Gregory Boynton

Cast of Characters
Will
Dean

Scene
A roof

Time
Evening


Lights up on a "roof". WILL stands near the
railing holding a beer. He is dressed in his
street attire, a badge can be seen along his belt.
On the railing lays a vase, next to that, rests a
beer.
After a moment, DEAN enters - wearing a police
uniform.

DEAN
Here you are..

WILL
What do you want?

DEAN
Captain sent me up to check on you.
(pause)
How are you doing?

WILL
What do you think?

WILL shifts away from DEAN. DEAN moves closer
notices the vase and beer.

DEAN
You used to come up here together?
(pause)
Musta been a nice way to end a shift.
(another pause)
Nice view--

WILL
(interrupting)
If you can’t tell, I want to be alone, please.

DEAN
I just thought you could use the company is all..

WILL
Then you clearly don’t understand.

WILL finishes his beer. Grabs another.

DEAN
The Captain wanted me to--

WILL
(interrupting)
Fine. If the Captain ordered you to come up here. Stay.
Just stand there.
(long pause)
Have they tracked him down yet?

DEAN
No.

WILL
What do they know?

DEAN
They’re building their case. Interviewing his family.
Sounds like he’d been talking about doing something
like this for some time.

WILL
It’s been a week. How haven’t they found him yet?

DEAN
Captain thinks the family has been hiding him, fixing
up his wounds so he doesn’t have to go to the
hospital..

WILL
Cause they know when we find him, we aren’t going to
arrest him. We’re going to kill him dead.

DEAN
I don’t know about that.. The law--

WILL
(interrupting)
Fuck what the law says. You’re a rookie. I get that.
Haven’t had the chance to make friends with anyone yet.
So you don’t get it. You kill a cop, you have a 10%
chance of survival. You kill four, you might as well be
a ghost.

DEAN
I understand that.. But, I also understand that there
is protocol for this stuff. And I understand--

WILL
--Forget it.

DEAN
I UNDERSTAND, that you’re upset.

WILL
Do you?

DEAN
Yes.

WILL
You understand, that less than a week ago, four
officers - one of whom was like a brother to me - was
shot in a coffee house, off-duty, in cold blood. Some
nut job just came in, pulled out a gun and ended their
lives. You understand that he’s still out there,
waiting for god knows what kind of another opportunity,
AND you can still stand there and tell me we should
follow "protocol"?
(pause)
Let me ask you, why’d you even become a cop?

DEAN
My father. He was an officer, who died on duty. I was
15. I can remember, the police chief visiting our house
to break the news.. My Dad’s partner got shot during
some scuffle at a raid or something. My Dad, without
really thinking it through, went after the guy for
shooting his partner. Chased him to an ally downtown.
And got himself killed. If he had stayed, secured the
area where his partner was, he would have lived to see
me follow in his footsteps.
(pause)
Just because you think it’d be easy to chase this guy
down and make him pay, doesn’t mean that it will be.
And killing him wont make the pain any easier to deal
with.

WILL
What happened to him, the guy who killed your father?

DEAN
Life in prison. But, I think he ended up getting killed
in there.
(pause)
Well, I guess I’ll leave you to the sky line.

DEAN begins to exit.

WILL
Wait.

DEAN stops, turns back.

WILL
Here.

WILL hands the beer that was next to the vase to
DEAN.

WILL
Tell me more about your father.

DEAN takes a sip of beer.

DEAN
Only if you tell me more about him.

DEAN indicates the vase.


END OF PLAY

WEEK TWO ~ TALKING DISCO BALL

**I promise next week will be better.

TALKING DISCO BALL

By

Kyle Gregory Boynton

FADE IN:
EXT. PARK - DAY
CHARLES - nervous, lanky - sits on a park bench. Next to him rests a DISCO BALL.

Charles is distressed. He nervously looks at his watch.

In the distance, police sirens can be heard.

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - ANOTHER PART
PETER runs!

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - DAY
Charles perks as PETER - high strung, confident - reaches the bench.

CHARLES
(rising)
Finally! Where have you been?

CUT TO:
EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY (FLASHBACK)

PETER runs frantically, tipping over trash cans and various items, as if to make obstacles for someone chasing him.

PETER (V.O)
Where have I been?

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT)
Back to scene.
Peter catches his breath.

PETER
Where have I been?! Did you not hear the sirens?

Charles becomes more tense.

CHARLES
Cops?

PETER
No! It was a bunch of ambulances chasing me!

CHARLES
Okay, relax. I’m new at this whole thief situation.

PETER
It’s fine. The important thing is that you’ve got the money--

Peter notices the DISCO BALL.

PETER (CONT’D)
--Why do you have a Disco Ball?

CHARLES
I don’t know. It’s what Frank handed me out the window. I figured the money was in it.

PETER
Did you check?

They both stare at the Disco Ball.

Peter examines it, nothing.

PETER
Great.

CHARLES
Where is Frank? Maybe he has the rest of--

PETER
We can’t wait for him. We have to leave. Now!

CHARLES
What happened to him, Peter?

CUT TO:
EXT. DEADEND ALLEY (FLASHBACK)
FRANK runs towards a wall carrying a bag. He reaches the wall, looks for an exit, nothing. He drops the bag. Turns to face the camera. Pulls out two machine water guns. He gets "shot", a bunch.

FRANK
(screaming)
You’ll never get me alive pigs!!

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT)

CHARLES
Why did he bring guns?

PETER
Yeah... He usually just does.

CHARLES
So, he’s dead.

PETER
Didn’t you listen?

CHARLES
What about your grab?

CUT TO:
EXT. ANOTHER ALLEYWAY (FLASHBACK)
PETER is still running. Carries a bag. He reaches a dumpster, hides behind it.

PETER
Damn it!

Peter looks at his bag.

CUT TO:
EXT. OPEN DUMPSTER (FLASHBACK)
An open dumpster - Peter throws his bag. Shuts lid.

CUT TO:
EXT. ANOTHER ALLEYWAY (FLASHBACK)
Peter begins running again.

CHARLES (V.O)
You left it?

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT)

PETER
At least I stole something worth stealing.

CHARLES
I was the runner! It was Frank who was suppose to grab the most valuable thing in sight and throw it to me out the window.

PETER
Whatever! What are we suppose to do now?

Charles sighs. He looks at the Disco Ball.

CHARLES
It’s gotta mean something...

PETER
It’s a fucking Disco Ball!!

FRANK - confused, out of it - runs up to them.

PETER
What the?

FRANK
There you guys are!

CHARLES
We thought you died!

Frank stumbles over, catching his breath.

FRANK
Me? No.

Frank is also extremely drenched.

CHARLES
Are you hurt? Did they shoot you?

FRANK
Hurt? No. Shot? Yes. As you can see.

By now, Frank has established himself as "pothead".

PETER
Jesus..

CHARLES
I thought you said he got shot, Peter!?

PETER
I.. Thought he did.

FRANK
(chuckles)
I did. Some damn kids got me. Charles grabs Frank by the shirt.

CHARLES
Frank! You gotta listen carefully..

FRANK
Ouch, man. You’re hurting my shirt..

CHARLES
Why’d you give me the disco ball.

Suddenly, Frank becomes really REALLY angry.

FRANK
(deadpan)
Where is that fucking thing?

PETER
On the bench...?

Frank shoves Charles off of him, grabs the disco ball, and smashes it on the ground.

CHARLES
What the hell, Frank?

FRANK
This piece of shit, man. This guy’s been talking shit!

Peter and Charles exchange looks of confusion.

CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT (FLASHBACK)
FRANK crawls through a window. He looks around.
PETER follows.

PETER
(calling out window)
Wait here. We’ll grab the loot.

Peter goes into the next room. Frank stays. He is distracted by a Disco Ball on the desk.

CUT TO:
FRANK POV - DISCO BALL FACE

An evil face appears on the Disco Ball.

DISCO BALL
You’re a pathetic bunch! You’re gonna get caught! I’m calling the cops!!

CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT
Frank begins yelling.

FRANK
THE COPS!!! RUN!!

CUT TO:
EXT. APARTMENT ALLY
Charles hears Frank yelling, panics.

CHARLES
Hurry up! I can hear them coming!

*He really can’t.
Frank pokes his head out the window. Drops the Disco Ball.

FRANK
Every man for himself!!

Charles, confused, takes off running.

CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - CONTINUOUS (PRESENT)
Peter and Charles sit on the bench. Peter, pissed. Charles, confused.
Frank stands, oblivious.

CHARLES
The cops weren’t after us were they?

FRANK
The cops!? I’m more worried that Disco Balls can talk...

Beat.

PETER
Fuckin’ idiot.

END OF FILM

WEEK ONE ~ "FEEDING" THE SEAGULLS

"FEEDING" THE SEAGULS
By
Kyle Gregory Boynton

Cast of Characters
JERRY: the Journalist
TANYA: the Woman

Scene
A "beach"

Time
Present? The future? Yeah, the future is cooler sounding.

Lights up on a "beach". JERRY enters carrying a
potato gun. Positions himself center(ish) stage,
takes aim, and fires at a "Seagull" above the
audience. *Each time a "Seagull" is hit,
"squaking" sounds can be heard over JERRY’s
twisted laughter.

JERRY
Sons-of-bitches!

~~He shoots one more. Laughs.
~~TANYA enters.

TANYA
What the fuck are you doing?

JERRY
What does it look like?

TANYA
It looks like you’re shooting seagulls!

JERRY
Bingo!

TANYA
I’m pretty sure this is illegal!

JERRY
They’re baby potatoes! It’s not going to kill them. In
fact, I’m saying I’m feeding them. This is my "feeding
birds time" so leave me the hell alone.

TANYA
This would be a lot funnier if you were like in your
80’s. It honestly looks like you’ve lost your mind.

JERRY
Well, in a way, I suppose that’s true.

TANYA
How so?

~~JERRY shoots another "Seagull".

TANYA
Stop that!

JERRY
No! It’s helping me!

TANYA
It’s helping you with what?

JERRY
I’m not going to say my life with a complete stranger!

TANYA
But you’ll shoot at seagulls?

JERRY
...Fine. It’s helping me with my writer’s block.

TANYA
So... You. Shoot birds when you have writer’s block?

JERRY
Just.. Seagulls.

TANYA
Oh.

JERRY
Yeah.

TANYA
Why seagulls?

JERRY
(sighs)
Because they’re seagulls. They annoy the shit out of
me. And shooting mini-baby potatoes at them makes me
feel better, okay?

TANYA
Yeah, that makes perfect sense...
(pause)
Are you writing a book?

JERRY
Nope.

TANYA
A play? Music?

JERRY
Nope. I’m a journalist.

TANYA
What kind?

JERRY
Just a staff writer. My editor gives me writing
assignments. I usually cover events, things like that.

TANYA
Where does the writer’s block come from if you cover
events? That shouldn’t be too hard to write about.

JERRY
It’s just..Stressful, okay?

TANYA
I can see that. Seeing how your shooting--

~~JERRY shoots another "seagull".

TANYA
Give me that!

~~She grabs the potato gun from him.

JERRY
Will you give that back please?

TANYA
Nope. I’m going to give it a try.

JERRY
Please? I’d really like my potato gun back.

TANYA
Not until you tell me what the big deal is.

JERRY
Why do you care?

TANYA
Because, no one should be stressed about what they do.
I mean, there should be a level of stress, but not so
much stress they lose their minds and go off shooting
seagulls.

JERRY
(sighs)
Fine. The last article I wrote was a review for a local
theater company’s production of The Phantom of the
Opera.

TANYA
Oh.

JERRY
It wasn’t the nicest review I ever wrote, but that’s my
job. To report on the truth. The paper posted it online
and there was an outcry from the theater community.

TANYA
What do you mean?

JERRY
Actors, directors, dancers, costume designers, you name
it - lashed out at me and criticized my reporting. Now,
whenever I sit down to write a article I think about
how people will react.

TANYA
What kind of stuff did they say?

JERRY
"You don’t know what real art is", "That was just a bad
night - you should have given us the benefit of the
doubt"...

TANYA
That’s not so bad...

JERRY
But the one that really got me, was from this dancer.
She said "You’re just a washed up hack who will take
out your unsuccessful career. And wh--"

TANYA
"And when you die I’ll dance, ’poorly’, on your grave."
(pause.)
Sorry.

JERRY
That was you?

TANYA
Too be fair, I was a little intoxicated...

JERRY
But-

TANYA
And, the other dancers put me up to it...

JERRY
How you say such-

TANYA
BUT, too be perfectly honest, I agreed with most - if
not all - of what you said.

JERRY
You did?

TANYA
Look. You’re a journalist. You report the truth. And
the truth is, that production was awful. It’s not your
fault if people can’t handle that.

JERRY
I guess.

TANYA
Plus, they shouldn’t let what "one guy" says about
their production effect them. They should go on stage
every night and do their best.

JERRY
You’re right.

TANYA
And you know what? If people have enough time to sit at
their computers and be angry at someone doing their
job, then why aren’t they out doing their’s? Instead of
coming up with hateful things to say, rehearse and get
better.

JERRY
Is that what you did?

TANYA
Not really. I didn’t like being involved in that show.

JERRY
What are you out here for anyway.

TANYA
Walking. Taking pictures. It’s my way of relaxing. It’s
my--

JERRY
--own version of "Feeding" The Seagulls.

TANYA
Something like that.


CURTAIN

Introduction

My name is Kyle Boynton, recent graduate of Central Washington University, and I want to be a writer. Focusing on screenwriting, play writing, and fiction writing. I'm still applying for jobs, working on two feature length scripts (one of which is pretty much done and is in development for a start date early next year - but more on that later), and various random video projects. While working on one the features a few weeks ago, I was stricken with WRITER'S BLOCK! So, last week, I started coming up with ideas on how to break my self out of it. I decided to sit down and write a short play. I texted three random friends - who I knew would text me back right way - for three different things. I asked for a Person (Job/profession), a Place, and a Thing (prop). I proceeded to sit down and write a one-act play, now titled "FEEDING" THE SEAGULLS - the person being a Journalist, the place being a Beach, and the thing being... A Potato gun. After finishing the script in no time - I think it took me two sittings over two days - I finished it, typed it up and felt like I was actually making progress on ideas for my other script I'm working on. Then it hit me. Why don't I do this every week for a year? Do that same exercise to get my creative juices flowing. And that's what brings me to creating this blog. I've decided that each week till November 14, 2011 I'm going to write a short script each week - now this can mean a short play, film, or even a poem if for whatever reason I'm inspired to do so.

So, this time next year I'll have 52 random ass ramblings. I expect there will be some that are just god awful, but I do anticipate some that I'll actually really like and develop more into longer pieces - this is actually the same exercise I did in class that lead to my one-act play 'Leashes' that was produced at Central last Feb.

What I need from you? People, places, and things. I want jobs/professions that are somewhat unique and haven't been done to death already. I want places that are also cool and unique. I want things that aren't exactly out of the ordinary, just normal items but they can be extravagant items - they can be dirty too I guess. **It's more "random" if I don't come up with them myself.

Sit back and enjoy reading my 52 thrown together short scripts for an entire year.


--KGB