Scene: two months earlier. INT. An apartment. Somewhat shabby, like its inhabitant. We’ll call him David.
SFX: A computer beep or ding.
Close-up on Facebook page. (Note during pitch. Mention potentially getting Facebook ad money.) The text on the page reads (in colourful large letters) Hey Bud! You wanna write scripts for film? Huh? Does yuh?
David: Say now…
Scene. EXT. The Playboy Mansion (or equivalent). David and the Swedish Bikini Team are around a swimming pool.
David: Why, yes. I did write “My Basketball, Mine Enemy”.
A general murmur of admiration from the team.
Inge: I have a Ph.D. from Uppsala.
David: I knew it!
Scene. INT. David’s apartment.
Close-up on the Facebook page, with the mouse cursor moving over to a button marked “Yes!” and clicking it.
Scene. INT. A hallway, by some elevators.
David is holding a notice in his hand.
Close-up on the notice. It says “Hey Bud. Meeting room A21.”
Scene. INT. Meeting room A21.
This is set up like a small conference room. Inside are a bunch of young, beautiful people. They are dressed impeccably and all of them are holding a steaming espresso cup. All of them have a Macbook Pro in front of them. (Remember to pitch more potential ad dollars here.)
David walks in. He is wearing a torn parka, snowmobile boots, sweatpants and a “Teenage Head” t-shirt. His hair is unkempt and he has five days of beard growth.
Silence falls. Then, when that is established…
David: Uh. Hi buds. This the scriptwriting group?
The beautiful writers all look at each other. One quickly closes their Macbook Pro and sits on it. The rest look at that one, collectively consider then surrender. The leader (let’s call him Beautiful Leader) speaks.
Beautiful Leader: Yeah, bud. Siddown. Espresso?
David takes an empty seat and is handed an espresso.
Well. I guess I will be joining Script It.
(Events above have been artistically altered to provide a view of life. They are not guaranteed to reflect any real life events.)