CAFE NOIR » Tales of an atheist, anarchist, wannabe filmmaker of sorts, and father of three lovable little beasties

Pumpkin

Screenplay by Jeff Kesterson
jeff@cafenoir.co
952-452-4471

INT. APARTMENT — NIGHT

SHE stares into the camera, standing against a blank background. The song “Pumpkin” by Tricky plays and SHE sings/lipsyncs the opening line.

CUT TO:

SHE and HE are sitting in bed, each reading silently. “Pumpkin” hollows out and plays softly now in the background. They sit for a while, reading to themselves. After a few moments she breaks the silence, turning toward him.

SHE

Hey what are we doing tomorrow?

HE

(after a pause, distracted)

Oh I don’t know. Why what are you thinking?

SHE

Well, I thought maybe we could run out and get dinner and then…

She trails off, he’s not really listening.

HE

Um, run out and? I’m sorry, I’m listening.

SHE

Yeah, I thought maybe we could grab dinner and then see who’s at first ave.

HE

Yeah.

HE (CONT’D)

We should.

Nose back in his reading material. Dissatisfied, she turns back to hers as well. After a few more moments, she looks back over at him. He appears to have been replaced by a woman we haven’t seen before, staring back at HER. Then HE is back and SHE double takes. Then this new woman reappears, and the music swells and resolves as she leans in and climbs on top of HER. Cut to HER against a blank wall, staring/singing into the camera in a (threatening? vulnerable? wounded?) way.

Finally the music hollows out again and HE is back, sitting next to HER, lost in his reading. After a moment or two she leans over and climbs on top of him, pulling his face toward hers and kissing him aggressively, desperately. He works his hands around her waist and then up her back, underneath her shirt, the top few buttons of which are suggestively open in the front as she leans toward him.

Right at the worst time, her phone rings on the end table on her side of the bed, out of easy reach. They try to ignore it, and after it finally stops ringing they’re trying to recapture the moment, but then it starts ringing again. This time she reaches over to silence it, dismounting him in order to do so. “Pumpkin” has faded out and “Family Business” by the Fugees fades in, again as soft background music.

SHE

God. I’ll call him back later…

SHE (CONT’D)

Hey, did you make that call yet?

HE

That call? No.

HE (CONT’D)

(With finality)

I did not.

SHE

So…that’s it? You’re not going to do anything about it?

HE

What, you think I’m not “doing anything” about it? You have no idea…

SHE

Well, you’re not going back there? You’re not going to see her again?

HE

No. God. No. Please. That sounds fucking terrible. That’s the last thing I want to do. Is that really what you want?

SHE

Yes. It is.

SHE (CONT’D)

We don’t have a lot of time…

HE

Do you know how that’s gonna go? Do you?

SHE

I know, it’s going to be horrible. I know…

SHE (CONT’D)

It’s going to be horrible no matter what. I know that. But at least this way…

HE

(Cutting her off)

At least this way…what? No. We both know that’s not gonna… I don’t want to make it even worse than it’s gotta be.

SHE

So that is it, then. You’re just going to sit here and do fucking nothing?!

“Family Business” has reached the 1:55 mark, and the music swells/resolves:

HE

(vocalized by Wyclef Jean)

Ahh, fuck that!!…

He explodes blindly out of the apartment, somewhere out into the night. Frantically twisting through alleys and into dark corners, as the film slowly fades to black.