<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040</id><updated>2007-12-04T12:51:40.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Headsticks</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml'/><author><name>matt~</name></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-6612498046884656129</id><published>2007-12-04T12:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T12:51:40.957-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>To Look for, To Visit, To Give Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. EXT. DOORWAY #1 - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The door opens.  A gawky teenager, wearing a convenience store  vest, smiles perfunctorily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hey, does a guy wearing a green blazer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;live here?  No?  Sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2. EXT. DOORWAY #2 - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A doorbell rings, the door opens.  TEEN stands fiddling with the edge of her vest.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Does a guy live here with you?  About this tall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; with dark hair?  Kinda oldish? Sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3. EXT. DOORWAY #3 - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hesitant knocking, and the door opens on the TEEN looking down the hallway.  She quickly jerks her head around to face forward.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Did someone who lives here just get back from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the store?  See I work there and... Oh.  OK.  Sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;4. EXT. DOORWAY #4 - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;More forceful knocking, and the door opens on the TEEN, hunching forward looking annoyed and tired.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You're not him.  Do you know some middle-aged dude&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;who lives in this building, maybe?   'Cause he left a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;lot of... I work down at the corner store.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN smiles a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh yeah.  I've seen you at school.  Hey your dad didn't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;just get back from the store or anything?  OK.  Yeah,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it's not a big deal or anything.  God, I feel like I've been&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;doing this all day.  Me? Around 8.  I'm just meeting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;some people later... yeah around the corner.  Cool.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'll guess I'll see you there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN smiles again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;5. EXT. DOORWAY #5 - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A broken doorbell chimes and the door opens.  The TEEN is slumped against the door jam.  She quickly straightens up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ma'am you don't happen to have a... um...son &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;living with you? Or your husband,  about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;6 feet tall?  Maybe a boyfriend?... Sorry, sorry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;6. INT. CONVENIENCE STORE - DAY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The TEEN walks right up to the cashier's counter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I knocked on practically every door in that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;building.  I totally tried.   What else was I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;supposed to do?  Barge in and check under&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;their beds or something?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The TEEN pulls out a pile of twenties and a few coins and deposits them on the counter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TEEN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;God, count it if you don't trust me.  All he &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;got was a lighter.  Yeah, he was in a rush. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Obviously.  Fine.  Do I still get to leave by 8?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yeah.  Yes. OK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Wailing sirens rise as the TEEN shuffles off to the back room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;12/10/07 KAG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/12/to-look-for-to-visit-to-give-change.html' title='To Look for, To Visit, To Give Change'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=6612498046884656129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/6612498046884656129'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/6612498046884656129'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-2347899971704840018</id><published>2007-11-12T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T13:36:26.173-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>Surround</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. INT. OFFICE - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;GUY, mid-thirties with a hunted look, sits in his cubicle in the corner, hunched over his desk.  All of his office supplies, his computer and his trash can have been placed extremely close to him, leaving the rest of the cubical bare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2. INT. CAFETERIA - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;GUY sits at a four-person table that already has four people seated at it.  GUY's seat has been placed at one of the table's corners.  GUY attempts to scoot in closer, and  his fellow table occupants try to make more room for him, but he pulls their trays even closer than before.  GUY has a small plate with sushi rolls and rugelach arranged in the center of his plate.  He hunches over his food and starts to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;3. INT. SUBWAY - NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A LITTLE OLD LADY sits in an empty subway car.  GUY enters the car, and immediately sits next to her.  The LITTLE OLD LADY scrunches up her face and tries to lean away from GUY.  Every inch she moves away, GUY leans toward her to fill the gap between them.  GUY pulls out his music player and puts in his ear buds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TITLE: (over GUY leaning toward LITTLE OLD LADY) Feeling overwhelmed by the vastness of existence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;4. INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;GUY tosses away his bag and coat and sits down in Squeezy Chair (a squishy chair with automated arms that close in around the seated person).  The chair closes its arms around GUY, and at their tightest point, GUY smiles and sighs blissfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;TITLE: (over GUY smiling in chair) SQUEEZY CHAIR.  For when the universe seems like it's expanding too quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;18/09/07  KAG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/11/surround.html' title='Surround'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=2347899971704840018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/2347899971704840018'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/2347899971704840018'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-4609074834224695925</id><published>2007-11-08T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T15:02:36.468-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>Gated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;1. EXT. APARTMENT COURTYARD -- DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERYL, a thin, deteriorating 80, walks cautiously down the stairs and slowly to the solid door to the exterior.  It has no window or peep hole.  She presses the intercom button by the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes, who's there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer for her apartment can be heard echoing around the courtyard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes, you got the right one.  My intercom upstairs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;is on the fritz.  That's why I came down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer makes two quick replies.  BERYL assumes the person is dull-witted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just speak into the five little dots next to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the button you are pressing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer buzzes a long buzz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm expecting a delivery man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Are you the delivery man?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a long pause.  Then the buzzer gives three short rings.  BERYL'S face crinkles with suspicion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Just tell me who you are and what you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;want and I'll open the door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer buzzes two long rings.  BERYL becomes stern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Listen.  Do you think this is funny? I can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;just go upstairs and ask my friend if I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;can look out her window and see who&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;is causing all this trouble.  Are you the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;delivery man, or aren't you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer is pressed and is not released.  BERYL grows more and more infuriated.  She looks at the stairs and looks back at the door with increasing fury, uncertain what to do.  Finally, she flies at the intercom button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;BERYL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;ENOUGH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzer stops immediately.  BERYL waits in the sudden silence, holding her breath for another sound.  All is quiet.  BERYL sets her mouth in grim determination, her chest heaving with anger and fear.  She grabs the handle of the door, and pulls it open quickly.  No one is there.  BERYL cautiously steps out of the threshold, and looks up and down the deserted sidewalk.  She looks at the normal day for a moment, deflated, and closes the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04/10/07  KAG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/11/gated.html' title='Gated'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=4609074834224695925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/4609074834224695925'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/4609074834224695925'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-8839471302064759836</id><published>2007-11-02T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T15:45:09.561-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>Backstroke</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. EXT. SWIMMING POOL - MORNING&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ZELDA, in her mid-40's, flip-flops over to the edge of the pool, carrying her goggles and swim cap.  She is in a terribly good mood for this early in the morning.  ZELDA takes off her flip-flops, lining them up at the edge of the pool, and jumps in the water.  She snaps on her swim cap and secures her goggles over her eyes.  ZELDA turns to face the edge of the pool, places her hands on the ledge, lifts her knees to her chest and puts her feet against the wall.  She pushes off and begins her even, strong backstroke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ZELDA smiles as the looks at the clouds drifting by.  A bird swoops overhead, and ZELDA strokes dreamily in the morning calm.  She turns expertly at the other end of the pool and resumes her stroke.  Just before she reaches the opposite edge, a peach-colored blur flashes by overhead.  ZELDA is so surprised she thwacks her head on the edge of the pool.  Smarting from the blow, she rubs her head and looks around.  Nothing seems out of the ordinary.  She warily resumes her backstroke, and the morning calm returns.  ZELDA flips around at the far edge and swims back.  As she approaches the edge, the peach-colored blur streaks by again, and once more, ZELDA smacks her head.  She is furious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ZELDA gets out of the pool and jams on her flip-flops.  She walks angrily over to the tall hedge surrounding the pool.  ZELDA can't see over the top, so she drags a nearby table over to the hedge and climbs up on top of the table.  Peering over the top of the hedge, she sees nothing but a very normal looking suburban back yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As she is about to climb down, ZELDA hears the click of a fence latch.  She cautiously peeks over the top of the hedge.  A MAN stomps into the backyard, grumbling and cursing and holding something peach.  ZELDA ducks down behind the hedge, but still watches the MAN through the bushes.  The MAN attaches a pump to the peach thing and begins inflating it.  ZELDA, proud of solving the mystery,  decides to stand up on the table and speak to the MAN.  The MAN has almost finished inflating the peach thing, but he pumps a little too much.  An over-inflated blow-up doll shoots over the hedge, smacking ZELDA in the face.  ZELDA screeches in surprise and falls off the table, landing on top of the deflating blow-up doll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;30/09/07   KAG&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/11/backstroke.html' title='Backstroke'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=8839471302064759836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/8839471302064759836'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/8839471302064759836'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-8266921395126938645</id><published>2007-10-29T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T16:37:22.604-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>Hundred Million</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;1. INT. BALLROOM - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEPHIE, petite and 40ish, has lined up dozens of vases along a table covered in a white cloth.  Several stacks of dining tables and chairs line the walls.  STEPHIE reaches down and hauls up a gigantic bag full of shiny ball bearings, plunking it on the table.  RENALDO, thin and 30ish, walks in with a huge bouquet of calla lilies and artistic-looking branches.  STEPHIE begins cooing immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;RENALDO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Aren't they exquisite?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;STEPHIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Oh, Renaldo!  They are perfect!  Just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;let me get some of these in a vase to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;see the final look.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEPHIE strains against the thick plastic of the bag, tugging at the top with her fingers.  She turns a strained smile to RENALDO.  STEPHIE yanks on the plastic with her whole upper body, with no results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;STEPHIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Just a sec!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEPHIE really puts her back into it.  When she gets nowhere, she turns to RENALDO a little perturbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;STEPHIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Do you have any scissors?  Or a knife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;or something?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENALDO shrugs and motions to his armful of lilies with a look of abject helplessness.  STEPHIE leans over the bag and tears at the plastic with her teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;RENALDO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Careful!  Your veneers!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEPHIE glares at RENALDO, who backs away slightly.  STEPHIE still has a mouth full of plastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;STEPHIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Almost got it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she doesn't.  With her fury mounting, STEPHIE grabs the top of the bag firmly, only to get a handful of slobber which she wipes on her skirt.  She grabs the other side of the bag with even more force and yanks mightily at it with a grunt.  The bag is torn completely in half, scattering the entire bagful of ball bearings across the entire ballroom floor.  STEPHIE and RENALDO gape at the bouncing balls.  After the metallic cacophony dies down, RENALDO adjusts the lilies in his arms uncomfortably.  STEPHIE sets her lips firmly, reaches down, and pulls up an identical bag of ball bearings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;STEPHIE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Thank goodness I thought to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;bring another bag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;STEPHIE attacks the bag with renewed vigor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27/09/07  KAG&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/10/hundred-million.html' title='Hundred Million'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=8266921395126938645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/8266921395126938645'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/8266921395126938645'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-7961969971623441237</id><published>2007-10-25T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T13:50:15.816-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scripts'/><title type='text'>Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. EXT. TALL BUILDING ROOF - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A crowd of well-dressed and good-looking people ooh and ahh over the spectacular view.  A MAN looks at his watch and motions for his cluster of friends to come with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. INT. ROOF ELEVATOR LOBBY - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elevator dings, lighting up the down arrow. The small crowd walks to the elevator, but one WOMAN halts in the lobby, while everyone else packs into the elevator.  Her face is contorted  with fear.  The WOMAN motions for her friends to go on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;I'll just take the stairs.  Don't worry about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;The WOMAN smiles bravely.  The elevator door shuts on the concerned faces of her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. INT. HALLWAY/ STAIRWELL - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The WOMAN walks to the stairwell door purposefully.  She swings the door open, and peers down the well-lit, friendly-looking stairwell and begins trembling in terror. She slams the door shut and leans her back against it.  The WOMAN rifles through her bag frantically, pulls out her cell phone and dials a number.   Sobbing hysterically, she speaks into the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;WOMAN&lt;br /&gt;I can't do it!  I just can't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. INT. WOMEN'S BATHROOM - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The WOMAN splashes water on her face.  Taking a paper towel from the dispenser, she carefully dries her face.  She seems calmer.  The WOMAN throws away the paper towel and straightens her blouse.  Suddenly, the bathroom door slams open and four MASKED FIGURES dressed in ninja black attack her.  Three of them push her down to the floor, holding her there while the fourth pulls out a syringe.  The WOMAN struggles and almost screams as the fourth injects her in the neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TITLE OVER FREEZE FRAME:  Problems going down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  INT. DOWNSTAIRS LOBBY - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elevator doors open to reveal the WOMAN sitting in a wheelchair  completely unconscious, accompanied by the four MASKED FIGURES.  They wheel the WOMAN over to the MAN and her friends, who shake the MASKED FIGURE'S hands, smiling broadly.  The fourth FIGURE produces another syringe and injects it into the WOMAN'S neck.  She groggily comes to.  She smiles at the MASKED FIGURES and wobbling slightly, gets out of the wheelchair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. EXT. BUILDING ENTRANCE - DAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The four MASKED FIGURES walk out of the building, with one slinging the folded wheelchair jauntily on his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TITLE:  Call THE DESCENDERS today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22/09/07 KAG&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/10/down.html' title='Down'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=7961969971623441237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/7961969971623441237'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/7961969971623441237'/><author><name>KA Gorman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-985417651873524040.post-4377283404151893697</id><published>2007-10-25T11:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T11:50:15.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Kate</title><content type='html'></content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/2007/10/hello-kate.html' title='Hello Kate'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=985417651873524040&amp;postID=4377283404151893697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.headsticks.com/blog/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/4377283404151893697'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/985417651873524040/posts/default/4377283404151893697'/><author><name>matt~</name></author></entry></feed>