One Lucky Day

***This is a script for my short story “That’s How the Cookie Crumbles. Enjoy.***

ACT I

Scene 1

<u>INT APARTMENT / DAY</u>

(A run down studio apartment with only one window. The only furniture are a futon mat, a table, a chair, a sofa, a wardrobe, a small fridge, and a microwave.)

REPORTER

(Reclined on sofa. He is wearing nothing but a black band t-shirt, boxers, and ankle length socks.)

Damn it.

(Adjusts position. Sits upright. Face annoyed and quizzical.)

Where the hell is that phone?

(Looks for mobile phone. Finds it near a few rats. Sits in a crouching position, both feet on the floor.)

(Dials. Bends head to receiver.)

Hello?

PERSON ON OTHER LINE/NEW EDITOR

You’ve reached the Chronicle editor-in-chief’s office.

How may I help you?

REPORTER

(Grins)

Yeah, um, can I speak to the editor?

NEW EDITOR

(Speaks with authority)

I AM the editor.

REPORTER

Oh.

(Surprised)

OH.

(Stands up. Looks out window.)

What happened to the old one?

NEW EDITOR

(Looks out own window.)

He’s dead.

REPORTER

(Angered. Hammers window sill with fist.)

Damn that son of a bitch!

NEW EDITOR

(Annoyed)

That son of a bitch happens to be my father.

REPORTER

Shit.

(Ends call.)

End Scene 1

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