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TRUST JESUS TODAY
It's been quite some time since I posted the opening scene to this screenplay. Trying to get back into the whole writing thing after a rough year, I thought I'd go ahead and throw up some more of it. Once again, not a completed work, but it does pick up immediatly after the already posted opening. Sorry about the formatting, that's just kind of how it copied and pasted. I spaced it out best I could.
INT. JAREDíS APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY
A young man looks straight at us. Probably around the age of
23 or so, JARED DURWOODíS eyes look much older, more mature.
And at the moment, they donít look too amused.
You are, of course, yanking on my
leg. I can almost literally feel
them coming out of their joints.
His companion in the room is a young woman about the same
age, GARIEL SONJY. Very pretty gal.
Nope, no joking. No leg pulling.
Nothing but truth here. He wants to
Even after last time?
Especially after last time. He says
he sees it as a test from God,
showing him the true nature of
And I see him as a glory seeking
reporter for a rag that wishes it
had the upstanding reputation of
the Weekly World News.
He wonít go away until heís talked
The fact that heís managed to
exhaust even your defenses speaks
much of his persistence.
Just tell him again that you wonít
so heíll go away.
Fine then, let him in.
Gariel nods in acknowledgement, then heads for the door and
opens it up.
Behind the door stands an older man, his hat held over his
chest in a sign of politeness. ERNEST VAUGHN steps into the
room, a smile crossing his face. We notice that there is
something weird about his eyes.
One looks where Ernest looks and the other is perpetually
Hello, Mr. Durwood. My most humble
Before you even ask, the answer is
no. Just as it was last time and
just as it will always be.
May I just ask why?
Jared, eyes still on Ernest, points at Gariel.
Do you know who she is?
Other than that.
Iím not sure what youíre getting
Sheís my filter. She is the
strainer that keeps the dirt out of
my water. In short, Mr. Vaughn, she
is my protection against people
And what kind of person might I be,
There are many who would have me
use my gifts for them, and many are
honest people who truly need it.
For those people, I am more than
happy to help them. There are other
people, on the other hand, who want
to use me. Gariel helps me
differentiate between the two.
Thatís why most who seek my help
manage to find themselves talking
to her before they talk to me.
Sheís a gifted one, my gal, one of
the many reasons Iím lucky to be
able to marry her.
She found out that Iím a reporter
for the "Scoop".
Reporter, of course, used lightly
in that statement.
Yes, she did.
A fact of which I will not deny.
Whatís the use? You know. She
knows. But you both can also see
plainly. I, quite literally,
cannot. And that is the reason I
have come to you. The only reason.
You simply want me to straighten
out your eye?
Jared considers a moment. Looks down, looks over at Gariel,
who remains unreadable. He finally looks back at Ernest.
Iím afraid I donít believe you.
And Iím sorry to hear that. I
thought someone of your beliefs and
gifts would be more... sympathetic
to my needs.
And, quite honestly, I usually
would be. Iím a very trusting guy,
naive, my fiancť would say.
And I might even have been so
today, had you managed to dress
yourself a little more competently.
Ernest, at first confused by what Jared has said, looks back
at him in want of some clarification.
Might wanna button up that top
there, hot shot.
Ernest closes his eyes and sighs. He doesnít even need to
look to see what they are talking about. But he does anyway
and sees the top button on his shirt undone and a wire
microphone slightly poking through the top.
Next time you want some real help,
kindly not walk into my place
wired, okay? Iíll be seeing you.
Gariel opens the door again and gestures for Ernest to
kindly exit the premises. Ernest starts heading that way.
Maybe one day youíll see the
benefits to be more open to sharing
To the likes of the "Weekly Scoop?"
Very much doubt it. Good luck on
your periodicalís search for Elvis,
though. I hear heís umpiring Little
League games now somewhere in East
Thanks for the tip.
Not a problem. Goodbye now, Mr.
Ernest Vaughn exits the building and Gariel closes it behind
She smiles at Jared as she picks up a magazine and walks
over to sit next to him again.
And now that weíve taken care of
that, on to more important matters.
You have to give me your opinion on
these colors for the wedding.
She starts thumbing through the magazine. Jared can do
nothing but laugh.
Whatís so funny about that?
Nothing about that, which is
actually more frightening to me
than humorous, by the way. Itís
just that I got a mental image of
Elvis umpiring little league.
EXT. BASEBALL FIELD - DAY
A ball zooms past a kid standing up to bat. He doesnít even
move. The umpire behind him, looking a lot like the King of
Rock and Roll does a little karate move before giving the
"STRIKE" signal with his index finger.
Three strikes and thatís an out,
baby. Uh huh!
The kid walks dejectedly away from the plate.
INT. JAREDíS APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY
Jared continues to laugh as the mental image goes away.
Youíre weird in ways most miracle
workers only dream they could be.
EXT. JUNIEíS DINER - DAY
A small rental car pulls up into the parking lot of an old
style diner and finds that there are plenty of places yet to
The car parked, a door opens and out steps Luke, who takes a
breath of mountain air and stretches his arms out.
As he looks around him, we can tell by the mountain in the
background that he must have made the decision to come on to
INT. JUNIEíS DINER - DAY
Luke walks into the diner and heads straight for the
counter. Unfortunately, no one seems to be manning the fort.
Luke looks around the diner, sees a few tables with people
happily eating their lunches.
One such table holds a group of three women, all looking to
be in the 40 and above age range.
As Luke looks around the diner, hoping to catch somebody,
anybodyís attention, one of the women in the group looks up.
Uh oh, Junie, looks like we have a
We have a friend in need. He can
wait a couple of minutes.
I donít know. Heís got an
impatience about him.
He will learn patience.
Luke looks on in disbelief at the gals.
You could address me personally.
Oh, I could, but then where would
the eccentricity be? This place is
famous for that, you know.
Folks have come to expect it.
Probably thinks it gives it charm.
Iím charmed when Iím served.
Oh, girls, we have sass in this
one. But if you want to be served
in here, youíll have to wait just a
couple of more minutes.
She goes back to her group. Sandy shakes her head, tsk
tsking the whole way.
Luke turns back around, away from the girls and shakes his
head in wonder at their behavior, yet he canít help but
smile a little.
His attention is brought back into focus as Junie makes her
way behind the counter.
Sorry about that. We had an
emergency meeting of our all gals
club. No testosterone allowed.
Ah, your sarcasm is simply a mask
to hide your jealousy at not being
allowed to partake of the
Now Iím jealous of a group of
people that I donít even know?
Who wouldnít be?
With logic like that, how can I
Not very effectively, I must admit.
So, have you used your time wisely
and figured out what you want, or
have you been pouting over your
Itís been a long drive and all I
want is a cold one.
No. Cold one. As in beer.
You have to specify around here,
honey. No telling what our folks
may be requesting.
Iím not one of your folks.
Give it a couple of more hours, and
youíll be thinking just like us.
Adapt or go nuts. Itís how you
survive in this town.
Thanks for the heads up.
Itís part of my world class
She puts a glass in front of him as well as a bottle of
As is this. Now, if youíll excuse
me, I have to slip back into my
role of comforter.
Whatís wrong, if you donít mind me
Junie points over to the booth where Sandy still sits,
talking to the last woman of the group, MARKIE WOODS.
Markie has a son, about 20 or so,
whoís very bad off. Doesnít have
much of a chance. Markie has, of
course, been taking it pretty
Iím sorry to hear that. Truly.
Another bit of proof.
Just how crummy this world can be.
How can there be a God if people
are constantly put in these types
Oh, we havenít given up hope just
yet, Mr. Gloom and Doom. God may
have something to do about it yet.
Markieís son, Teddy; his best
friend Jared is coming over later
on today to visit him. And for
anyone that knows Jared, this is
never a bad thing.
Lukeís face lights up in recognition.
Yep. Iíll be back to collect your
money before you leave.
And with that and no more explanation, she walks back over
to her friends.
As Luke turns back to his drink, trying to absorb all the
quirkiness heís encountered so far, the door to the diner
opens and another man walks in.
FRED GILMORE stops short when he sees the female group
huddle around the booth. Sandy looks up and notices her
husband, quickly walks over to him.
Sorry, babe, looks like Iím gonna
be here for a bit longer.
I really hate to leave with that
passenger seat not being warmed by
the radiance of my favorite wife.
I know, but Iíll repay you later
No IOUs this time.
Itís a promise.
Okay, you can stay. But you hear
The tinkling of my heart shattering
to pieces, having to leave you here
and going to face an empty house.
You better get out of here before I
give you demerits for being too
If thereís any melodrama in my
performance, itís simply my love
flowing in overabundance from my
still shattering heart.
Leave, Romeo and leave the poetry
for Shakespeare. Even dead, heís
better than you.
Okay, okay, Iím outta here. But I
love you and Iíll see you soon.
Count on it, babe.
Fred leans down and gives Sandy a kiss before turning around
and leaving the diner.
Sandy sighs, gives a last longing look to her departing
husband, then goes back to join her friends.
EXT. DINER - DAY
Fred gets into his car, cranks her up and drives out of the
diner, as another car kind of slowly rolls its way into the
It barely makes it to a spot before flat out dying.
INT. DINER - DAY
The doors swing open and in steps Ernest Vaughn, slimy
tabloid newspaper reporter extraordinaire.
Foul, foul, foul!
He storms to the counter and takes a seat with a huff. Luke
gives him a once over as he sits.
Constantly. First a job gone sour
and now an automobile gone sour.
Not a fine day today, sir, not a
fine day at all.
Anything I can do to help?
Only a licensed mechanic will do me
any good at this point.
His eyes glitter with a moment of hope.
Unless of course you are a
mechanic, then I guess you could
Iíve never been accused of
automotive genius, unfortunately. I
can put oil in and change a tire.
Maybe jump a person off, but thatís
the extent of my knowledge in that
Ah, just another in the long list
of horrid events to befall me
today. It looks like to the phone I
must go and call upon the services
of a taxi company. If such a place
exits in such a miniscule speck of
Where do you need a lift to?
To the Inn. If that doesnít sound
specific enough, trust me when I
tell you that it is. Simply because
itís the only Inn, if you wish to
label it with that term, in this
place, it saw no need to embellish
on the name.
It is a quaint place, ainít it?
To put it in pleasant terms, yes.
Save yourself a quarter, Iíll give
you a lift to the Inn. Need a place
to stay myself.
Ah, a savior as if brought out of
heaven into my very path by a
If you say so, pal.
Ernest gives him his hand.
Ernest Vaughn, by the by.
Luke Johnson. Give me a second and
weíll get on out of here.
Luke takes a moment to guzzle down the rest of his drink,
then slaps it back on the counter. He pulls out his wallet,
grabs a couple of bills and puts it next to the bottle.
Luke and Ernest head for the exit and Luke looks over at the
group of women.
Keep the change.
Junie looks up and smiles.
Such a sweetheart.
Luke just tilts his head back at her, and out the door he
goes with his new buddy, Ernest.
EXT. LUKEíS CAR - DAY
Lukeís car heads down the side of the mountain by way of a
small winding road.
INT. LUKEíS CAR - DAY
Luke sits behind the wheel and Ernest gazes out the window,
watching the scenery go by.
So, what pulls you to this
forgotten realm of the civilized
Change of scenery. I heard this
place has some... interesting
The people are more interesting,
let me assure you.
This, Iím beginning to see pretty
clearly. Why are you out here?
For work. Iím a reporter.
Oh yeah? For whom?
Iíd tell you, but you would just
look at me with a sort of perverse
amusement and I would have no
defense but to swallow my
Like your job that much, huh?
The Weekly Scoop.
Begging your pardon?
So my ears werenít deceiving me.
Hey, if you work for some place
that Iíve heard of, rag or
respected, Iím impressed. Some
would say Iím easily so.
Iím inclined to concur with this
Just so youíll know, there was this
little town I stopped at on the way
up here to eat. The short order
cook there looked like he might
have been the type to wear Blue
Suede Shoes, if you know what I
Ah, a new record. Within the
timeframe of two hours, Iíve heard
two jokes that infer that all the
"Scoop" covers is redneck
delusionals who have spotted Elvis.
We cover more than Elvis, I assure
Oh, I know. Like Bigfoot. Or UFOS.
Or even Bigfoot being dropped off
by UFOs which are piloted by....
Elvis, of course.
At least you have a sense of humor
about your job.
Yes well, we also cover stories of
miraculous events. Or of people
that are the cause of miraculous
And thatís why youíre here?
Indeed. And between the two of us,
my BS detector isnít reading too
high on this one. There may be
truth to it.
I wouldnít dung you, Mr. Johnson.
And if there is truth to it, may I
say so long to filthy rags and
hello to respectability.
END OF SCENE
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