A Little Experiment with Script Writing...

BREAKDOWN

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

A woman, ANGELA, sits in an office on the visiting side of a desk. The chair behind the desk is empty. She is well-dressed but tired looking. She looks around uneasily.

ANGELA

Typical, new job, then this. She’s going to flip. She’s going to flip her bloody lid... Well... I mean, they must expect these things sometimes... life outside work... people have lives. Families. Christ.

She turns around to look at the door then faces the desk again.

What kind of boss... no water provided in the office. Stupid cow. In my condition. (She laughs nervously.) In my condition. All that time at home... Harry, shit. Reel him back in, that’s what Mum would say. Reel him back in, Angela.

A woman, MARTHA, walks into the office. She is dressed in a smart suit, hair tied back and perfect make up. Although she is older than Angela, she looks better. Angela begins to stand but Martha signals her to stop. She takes the seat behind the desk.

MARTHA

Now, Angela-

ANGELA

Ms. Grey, I really-

MARTHA

As a new recruit, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. But very rarely do employees request a private meeting with me on a Monday morning.

ANGELA

Yes, Ms. Grey, I’m very sorry-

MARTHA

It is the busiest time of the week, you know.

ANGELA

Yes, I’m so sorry.

MARTHA

So what is it you wanted to tell me?

Angela looks at Martha and then the audience. The stage goes 

black.

SCENE TWO

A middle aged man, HARRY, sits in an old-looking armchair in a murky living room. He is fidgeting, uncomfortable. Occasionally he looks up as if hearing someone moving around above him; his wife, asleep.

HARRY

Getting desperate now ... stopping and starting. It’s fine... then spluttering and wheezing. Useless old thing. That’s the problem... too long doing the same thing. (He pauses.) It gave out on us the other day. Don’t blame it, like. Angela going mental as usual... my fault the guy wanted four hundred quid. Unbelievable. She just ... yelling and nagging... hair tied back... baggy old jumper, and I just- I hate this fucking car.

He readjusts himself, running his hands through his hair and crossing and re-crossing his legs. He looks at his watch.

Better get ready.

SCENE THREE

A bar, night time. HARRY sits at the bar, several empty pint glasses next to him. A young, attractive woman, CHRISTINA, stands beside him. Her hand is on his shoulder. She is wearing a short skirt and a tight t-shirt.

CHRISTINA

You’re knocking them back, Harry. In a rush?

HARRY

Tired. I shouldn’t be- I’m just tired.

CHRISTINA

Well, then relax. Here, I’ll get the next round.

She beckons to the bartender.

Two pints please.

HARRY

Cheers but, I really, you know, it’s getting late.

CHRISTINA

Usually you’re full of energy.

HARRY

It’s just, maybe this- I mean, tonight’s just-

CHRISTINA

She caresses his hair.

What’s the matter, Harry?

HARRY

He looks around the bar.

Christ, it’s miserable in here, innit. Dark and, and-

CHRISTINA

What, romantic? Private? I think it’s great.

HARRY

I can feel my eyes going. I’ll have to get home. Angela, she-

CHRISTINA

She removes her arm from him, visibly annoyed.

For God’s sake, Harry, what’s-

HARRY

Oh, I can’t stop yawning. This’ll have to be my last one.

He takes the pint gratefully from the bartender and chugs half of it in one gulp. Christina turns away from him and begins putting on her coat.

HARRY

Sheepish.

Same time next week though, yeah?

Christina picks up her bag and storms out. Harry finishes his drink more slowly.