EXT.
CITY CENTRE STREET-NIGHT
CCTV
FOOTAGE- B/W- NO DIGETIC SOUND
WALTER,
18, steps up to the camera in a checked shirt and stonewashed jeans-
smart but trend-less. The camera appears to be in a doorway of some
kind. He wants to get in, gesturing inside, trying a little charm.
He's not doing well. As he steps closer to the camera, a DOORMAN'S
FIST slams into his face. He staggers off.
Over
the scene, CHRIS gives a V/O.
CHRIS
That's
Mark, the doorman. He told me this cocky little fraggle stepped up
saying “I know Chris Hulston.” Mark was like, “Don't use that
name around here.”
INT.
POSH HOUSE- DAY
Chris
sits with IAN, his right-hand man, strangely close on the small
couch. Ian has a scratch on his nose. They're watching the footage on
a big-screen TV. To the left of the TV, his video rack holds the
films Batman Returns, Blue Velvet, Maitresse, A Taste of Honey, Salo,
8mm, Philadelphia, Deliverance, Midnight Cowboy, WWF Wrestling and
Spartacus.
IAN
What's
his name?
CHRIS
Walter.
I can't go back in there now because of him. You beat the shit out of
him and I guarantee he'll go to the press. The club's door staff will
see the article. They'll know I sorted it out.
Ian
leans back and notices something sticking out from between the
cushion and the armrest of the couch- a small riding whip.
Chris
pulls out an unmarked audio tape.
CHRIS
Just
so I know it happened. I'll be at a business meeting, so post it
through the box and I'll check it when I get back. How's it going
with this Charlotte, then?
IAN
Well,
y'know. Can't believe I got tied down to this shit. If she didn't
argue with everyone she meets, and she didn't punch grown men in
bars, and she didn't drink pints and belch in strangers faces,
meaning you've gotta wade in and protect her, and if she didn't get
so wasted that going out with her was like looking after a fucking
infant... she'd be a nice girl.
CHRIS
You'll
figure it out with her.
IAN
I
will.
Ian
looks at the tape.
IAN
(CONT)
I have
a plan.
INT.
COUNCIL HOUSE-DAY
WALTER
sits on a couch. Puffing the herb, he stares at the TV. We can't see
what's on-screen, but we can hear it.
TV
VOICE
Unless
you want to die a slow, painful death... Stop smoking now.
TV
VOICE 2
New
McBain chips! They go with everything! These kids just can't get
enough!
There's
a KNOCK at the door.
Classical
music fills the room. Walter stands and slumps to the door.
TV
VOICE 3
Order
now for Classical Vibes. Relax to this serene collection...
Walter
opens the door. A large leather-gloved FIST slams into Walter's face.
He flies back into the corridor.
WALTER
No-
no-
IAN
pushes Walter onto his arse and begins laying into him. Walter's
protests are heard over the music. It's a totally unfair fight. By
the time the advert finishes, the man has left and has closed the
door behind him.
EXT.
WALTER'S HOUSE
Walking
briskly down the road, Ian pulls a tape recorder out of his back
pocket. He rewinds. The device SQUEAKS, then Ian presses PLAY. For a
couple of seconds we can hear Walter getting the shit beaten out of
him.
INT.
IAN'S FLAT- DAY
CU-
TWO-TAPE STEREO PLAYER
A tape
marked THE CORRS is inserted into PLAYER A. A blank tape is inserted
into PLAYER B. Fingers hit the record buttons.
The Corrs song
“What Can I Do to Make You Love Me” plays over the
scene, and over the following FLASHBACK MONTAGE:
INT.
PUB- NIGHT
Ian
and a girl, CHARLOTTE, sit together. He goes to hold her hand. She
pushes his hand away and sneezes into her own hand. Then she picks
his hand up and smiles at him.
INT.
IAN'S FLAT- NIGHT
Ian's
asleep on the couch. Charlotte carefully places some sandpaper into
his outstretched hand. She tickles his nose with a pen. He reacts,
scratching his face. She finds it hilarious. He does not.
MONTAGE/MUSIC
ENDS
Ian
takes the two tapes, marked BEATING and SONG, and puts one in each
coat pocket.
EXT.
CHARLOTTE'S HOUSE- DAY
Ian
pops the tape through the letterbox. He strokes a local cat on his
way out.
EXT.
CHRIS'S HOUSE
Ian
pulls out the other tape. As he shoves it through the waist-height
letterbox he sees the markings: SONG. He freezes. The tape has fallen
inside. He starts to breathe heavily. He looks through the letterbox
flap.
INT.
CHRIS' HOUSE
The
cassette is on the floor. Ian reaches through the letterbox, his arm
no-where near.
EXT.
CHRIS' HOUSE
Ian
hesitates, and then backs away.
INT.
IAN'S HOUSE- LATER
Ian's
topless, doing press-ups on his knuckles.
The
doorbell RINGS. Ian stands. He looks around the room.
IAN
Hang
on…
He
picks up a belt and stretches it out, like he might strangle someone
with it. It's the only thin he can find to defend himself with.
Ian
opens the door. Chris is in the hallway, smiling flirtatiously.
IAN
Chris.
Listen. Fucking hell-
Chris
brings a finger up to Ian's lips.
CHRIS
Shhh...
Wow. I can't believe it took us so long.
Ian's
face changes from controlled panic to blank confusion.
Chris
holds up the tape marked SONG.
CHRIS
Ian...
Ian... I would never have put you down as the romantic type. Well,
Mr. Creative. You don't have to do anything to make me love you.
Nothing at all.
Chris
pushes Ian back into his corridor, just using the finger still
pressed to Ian's lips.
Ian
panics and pushes Chris' finger away.
IAN
(FIRM)
Out.
CHRIS
Yes.
Yes, I am out. I'm out at last. You noticed, and I'm free because of
you. I owe this freedom to you.
Chris
pops the buttons on his own shirt.
CHRIS
Now do
what you want with me.
Ian's
BIG RIGHT HAND lands in his boss' face. Chris stumbles out. Ian slams
the door shut. Undeterred, Chris hammers on the door.
CHRIS
Don't
fight it, Ian! Accept your feelings darling!
MONTAGE
Shower
dial being turned to the coldest point.
Water
bursting out of shower head
Ian
reacting to the cold.
Ian
drying off. The doorbell RINGS.
IAN
Oh,
fuck, here we go again.
Ian
opens the door wrapped in a towel. CHARLOTTE stands in the doorway
holding the tape marked BEATING.
IAN
Charlotte.
I can explain, don't-
She
SHOVES him back into his corridor and closes the door behind her.
IAN
There's
something I need to tell you. I, er-
Charlotte
SLAPS Ian, hard.
IAN
Argh!
What the fuck?
She
grabs him, ready to slap him again.
CHARLOTTE
I know
you like this, you little bitch!
Charlotte
rips off her blouse to reveal a black PVC catsuit.
CHARLOTTE
I
can't believe it took you so LONG!
She
slaps him so hard it brings a tear to his eye.
IAN
You
fucking psycho!
CHARLOTTE
Oh...
keep talking baby. Keep talking.
She
kisses him hard on the mouth. He pushes her away, HARD, mid-kiss. He
slaps her face. She's laughing now.
CHARLOTTE
Come
on, you wuss. Is that it?
Ian
runs out, still in the towel.
IAN
(Shouting back at her)
Don't
speak to me again, you crazy bitch!
Charlotte
is still stood in Ian's flat, breathing heavily, staring at the door.
CHARLOTTE
You
know you liked it... come on... prove it.
She
roots through his wardrobe- shirts, trousers, jeans- no PVC. No
whips. No chains. No leather. No rubber.
She
goes through his drawers: elastic bands, paper-clips, a pack of cards
that have come loose at the bottom and have spread across the drawer.
She plucks out a scrap of paper.
CHRIS
0798064
It's
not just a scrap- it's an envelope. Charlotte opens the tucked-in
flap. It's stuffed with £20 notes- a few hundred quid-deep. She
checks the drawer for more. She pauses and pulls out what looks like-
from the back- a white rectangular card. From Charlotte's side, it's
a photograph. It's Chris and Ian. They're both drunken, shirts
untucked, outside a bar at closing time. They're hugging, looking
somewhat gay.
FLASH
FRAME- CHARLOTTE'S THOUGHTS:
Chris
and Ian locked in a kiss.
EXT.
CHRIS' HOUSE
Chris
opens the door in a dressing gown, eyes full of sleep.
CHRIS
Who
are you?
Charlotte
stands on the doorstep with the photograph in one hand and the
envelope in the other.
CHARLOTTE
I'm
your boyfriend's girlfriend. Soon to be ex-girlfriend.
CHRIS
Er,
what?
He
looks at her outfit.
CHRIS
Okay.
I can roll with this.
Charlotte
puts the photo in his face.
CHARLOTTE
You
turned my boyfriend gay, you bastard.
CHRIS
I wish
I had. I AM bisexual, but Chris just works for me.
CHARLOTTE
You're
a pimp?!
CHRIS
sighs.
CHRIS
No.
There's something I want to show you.
INT.
CHRIS' HOUSE
Chris
and Charlotte sit on the small couch. Chris is showing Charlotte a
scrapbook that he's assembled, stuffed full of newspaper clippings.
CHRIS
Look.
This is all me and Ian. But you didn't see this here, okay?
CASH
GUARDS ROBBED
SHOTGUN
RAIDERS HUNTED
LANDLORDS
WARNED AFTER PUB RAIDS
STREET
RIOTS WERE “PLANNED”
PIRATE
VIDEO DEALERS HUNTED
LOCAL
COCAINE NOW CHEAPER THAN A CAPPUCCINO
EAR
FOUND ON PAVEMENT
MAN
GETS HEAD STUCK IN RAILINGS AFTER DRUNKEN NIGHT OUT
Chris
shrugs.
CHRIS
Might
need to blackmail him one day. You never know.
CHARLOTTE
Wow, I
had the wrong end of the…
She
finds the same riding crop that Ian found, down the sofa.
CHARLOTTE
Stick.
Is this yours?
Charlotte
and Chris smile at each other.
INT.
IAN'S FLAT
Ian
sits at his desk in his lounge, filling in an RSPCA job application
form. He's on the phone. An answer machine beeps.
IAN
Chris,
it's Ian. Being a gangster is gay. I'm out. Out of the game, I mean,
not... Well. Enjoy your life.
On the
form, under MARITAL STATUS, Ian ticks the box SINGLE.
INT.
CHRIS' HOUSE
Chris'
ANSWER MACHINE blurts out Ian's message, but there's no-one around.
INT.
CHRIS' BASEMENT
Chris
is gimped up and chained to the wall. Charlotte stands in her catsuit
in front of him. She WHIPS Chris hard. He loves it.
CREDITS
ROLL.
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