Far from happening last night, I wrote this in 2014 after a rather weird excursion to Newcastle. The following is based on reality, but you can probably guess where the fiction takes over. I took this to Writers Connect to get feedback, then promptly lost the notes. They appeared again four years later in a giant pile of papers in my lounge. The feedback group encouraged me to 'divorce it from reality,' which I've done only slightly, although as I was drunk I don't honestly remember it with enough accuracy, so I may have made it more true to life.
INT.
SMART CLUB- NIGHT
In
a VIP booth, a group of men in late 20s / early 30s sit around a
table with a built-in ice bucket, pouring out vodka, bourbon and
brandy.
EXT.
STRIP CLUB- NIGHT
The
group congregate outside. One of them, Matt, a slim, short lad, is
noticeable more drunk than the rest. One of the larger, bigger
members of the group, Jason, speaks up.
JASON
Matt,
we're not going to get in here unless you sober up.
MATT
I'm
sorry, and you will do what?
Another
member of the group, FERRO, steps between them.
FERRO
Woah,
woah, woah. What the fuck?
JASON
Matt,
you need to apologise for that now.
FERRO
Yeah,
you do, you dickhead.
MATT
Alright,
sorry, whatever.
Ferro
pushes Matt away from Jason.
CUT
TO:
INT.
HOTEL ROOM- MORNING
Matt
and Ferro wake up in twin beds. Matt looks decidedly hungover.
MATT
Ugh.
FERRO
(chuckling to himself)
Matt
that was the most pissed I've EVER seen you. Um, Matt, you might
wanna apologise to Jason 'cause you were a DICK with him last night.
MATT
What...
what did I do?
FERRO
Jason
was telling you to sober up so you could get into that club, and your
response was basically, “What are you gonna do.”
MATT
Oh,
for fuck's sake. Really?
FERRO
I
wouldn't, y'know, make a big song and dance out of it, but just be
like, 'Sorry about last night,' and move on.
MATT
Oh,
I dunno, y'know. A song and dance might be a perfect reconciliation.
INT.
DINING ROOM
Big
band music swells. Matt marches down the staircase with a cheesy
grin, doing jazz hands and high kicks. Jason sits at a dining table,
bemused.
MATT
(singing)
I'm
sorry about last night
FERRO
& HICKS (backup singing)
Last
night
MATT
I
realise that I was a massive twat with you
I'm
sorry about last night
FERRO
& HICKS (backup singing)
Last
night
MATT
I
might have to work on my attitude
I
realise in hindsight that I was a turd
I
blame it all on the Woodford Reserve
And
now I must make sure that you have heard
I'm
sorry about last night
Enter
busboys pushing mops in synchrony, wearing aprons and barbershop
quartet straw hats.
BUSBOYS
He's
sorry about last night
MATT
Yes
I am
BUSBOYS
He
knows that he can sometimes be a bit of a dick
He's
sorry about last night
He's
hoping he can get your forgiveness quite quick
He
just didn't want to pay for a lap dance
And
he thinks it's a shame you have taken that stance
Now
he'll do anything to redress the balance
He's
sorry about...
FERRO
and HICKS (overlapping)
Sorry
about, Sorry about...
Busboys
grab ketchup and mayonnaise bottles from nearby tables and spray them
symmetrically over the walls, then throw them aside, take off their
hats and circle them across their sternums.
BUSBOYS
Last
niiiiiiight!
Matt
drops to one knee at Jason's side with hand extended. Busboys gather
behind him in formation. Jason mouths a forkful of hash browns and
shakes hands with Matt.
JASON
Alright
mate.
He
chews on. The room is silent.
MATT
Did
I really say that, though?
CUT
TO BLACK
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