As usual, I’m posting the work I entered in this iteration of the Cyberspace Open. This time around my process was a little different — not by design, but by sloth. In the past I’ve tried to spend the first day playing with several ideas that touch on the prompt in very different ways, then take my favorite rough draft and polish it on Sunday.
This year I mulled things over quite a bit on Saturday, but didn’t start typing until Sunday afternoon. I only ever came up with one idea, which my home consulting service improved dramatically.
I tried to follow my own advice and keep the scene dynamic and flowing; hopefully it’s not too confused. I thought over ways to sneak a little more of the broader story context into the scene, but in the end I just managed to work a few clues in. After that the as-you-know-Bobishness started to grate on me.
Anyway, without further ado, I bring you: Scooter’s Balls.
INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY
HELEN (28, pretty, several locks of hair escaping from her pony tail) jumps when the phone rings. She scans the disrupted living room and locates the phone on the couch.
SCOOTER (dog, big, a mix of Labrador Retriever, Rottweiler, and god knows what else) takes the play position and barks with excitement. Crossing to the couch Helen steps on a squeaky toy, which just excites him more.
HELEN
Hello?
JAKE (OVER PHONE)
(loud, agitated)
Helen?
HELEN
Jake! Where are you?
Scooter perks up at the mention of Jake’s name and watches the phone intently.
INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION
EXT. LAS VEGAS BACK STREET – DAY
JAKE (30, wiry, disheveled) is in his car, the convertible top down and obviously damaged. The windshield has a spider web of cracks centered in front of the passenger seat, where it appears someone’s forehead hit the glass very hard.
JAKE
I… better not say.
HELEN
Jake, what the hell is going on? The FBI was here, for Christ’s sake.
JAKE
Is Scooter there with you?
HELEN
Of course he’s —
JAKE
(shouting into the phone)
Hey! Scooter! How’s my buddy?
Jake whistles over the phone, low, high, then medium pitch. A prostitute leaning against a lamp post nearby looks up.
Scooter hears the whistle over the phone and goes ballistic, simultaneously running in circles and jumping into the air, barking madly. He slams into a coffee table but Helen drops the phone and catches the lamp before it hits the floor, then dives to recover the phone before Scooter can grab it. She puts it to her ear to hear Jake laughing.
JAKE (CONT’D)
That’s my boy!
HELEN
Jake, Mrs. Simms came by. Scooter’s been peeing on her stupid lawn gnomes again.
JAKE
He’s just marking his territory. That’s what dogs do.
The prostitute approaches Jake’s car, her cheap blonde wig askew. Twenty years of meth have taken their toll. Jake looks at the hooker, then back at the traffic light.
JAKE (CONT’D)
(under his breath)
Hurry up, hurry up…
HELEN
Yeah, well, she doesn’t like it.
JAKE
She should be glad. That means he’ll protect her yard too.
PROSTITUTE
Hi, honey. You want to have a little fun?
Jake looks back at the light. Still red. He shakes his head quickly and returns the phone to his ear.
HELEN
Oh, yeah, I’m sure she sleeps better at night knowing her urine-stained statuary is protected by Scooter’s unwavering vigilance.
The prostitute leans over Jake’s car door, showing withered cleavage.
PROSTITUTE
You know what you need? A blowjob.
The light has changed, but the car in front of him is not moving. Jake honks his horn.
HELEN
Listen, Jake — I made an appointment with the vet.
JAKE
What? Why?
HELEN
You know why. Maybe if he’s neutered he won’t be so much of a… problem.
JAKE
He’s not a problem, he’s a dog!
HELEN
We’re supposed to be a family now. How can we be a family if I can’t trust him?
JAKE
You can trust him, honey! Scooter would die for you!
The prostitute leans in even closer.
PROSTITUTE
Blow. Job.
HELEN
Who is that? Did someone say blowjob? Where are you?
Finally the car in front moves and Jake lurches forward in the convertible — about ten feet. The car in front of him stalls again.
JAKE
It’s no one! Jesus!
HELEN
What about when we have children? What’s he going to do then?
JAKE
Scooter loves kids!
HELEN
That doesn’t mean he should have any of his own.
The prostitute is back, standing by the car with a bony hip cocked, smiling with yellow teeth. Jake honks his horn. He puts his hand over the phone.
JAKE
Go away!
PROSTITUTE
(cackling)
Blow job!
HELEN
I heard that! Who’s there?
JAKE
I don’t know. Some crazy lady.
He takes the phone from his ear but doesn’t cover it.
JAKE (CONT’D)
Go away! Please!
(into phone)
Honey, that’s just how Scooter is.
HELEN
Well, that’s not good enough. He’s going to have to shape up if we’re going to have a family.
JAKE
He’ll be better. I swear. Give him a chance before you chop his balls off.
Scooter is up on the sofa now, pushing his head through the blinds, barking madly, coating the glass with slobber.
HELEN
I don’t — You hear that? I can’t take any more of this.
JAKE
Why’s he barking?
HELEN
Why is he ever barking? I don’t know.
She looks out the window.
HELEN (CONT’D)
Huh.
JAKE
What?
HELEN
It’s your friend with the limp. It looks like his nose is broken.
JAKE
Shit! Helen! Get out of the house! Go out the back RIGHT NOW. Take Scooter with you. Do it!
Helen is still looking out the window.
HELEN
Holy shit they have guns!
She turns and runs toward the back of the house.
HELEN (CONT’D)
Scooter! Come!
Scooter gallops after her, tongue flopping in the wind.
JAKE
Helen!
HELEN
What?! What else have you done? Set the house on fire?
JAKE
I love you.
She hesitates a moment.
HELEN
I love you too. And… I have something to tell you, so get home safe, OK?
Helen throws down the phone and dashes out the back door.
Jake flips his phone closed. A horn honks. He’s blocking traffic. He hits the gas but just then the light turns red. He pounds his head on the steering wheel.
PROSTITUTE
So they gonna chop his balls off or not?
