Sherry and Bourbon

A Short Project for Screenwriting Class

 

 

                                   

                                    FADE IN

 

 

FADE IN:

INT. – APARTMENT – EVENING

JOYCE WEATHERS, once beautiful, late fifties, long grey hair,  serene face that speaks of sadness long accepted. Elegantly dressed, she sits in a comfortable armchair by a blazing fire, a GLASS OF SHERRY by her side. She reads a book called “MEDEA, THE ART OF MADNESS”, while Stravinsky’s “RITE OF SPRING” plays in the background. The strident martial blare of the music doesn’t disturb her reading.

She hears A CAR pulling into the driveway, and gets up with her sherry glass and leaves the room to go to the kitchen. She reappears without the sherry glass just as her husband FRANK WEATHERS enters through the other door. Frank is late forties, big feathery moustache, tired looking, yellowish skin, mostly bald apart from very long fringe of hair that’s perfectly, and rigidly arrayed across the top of his  perspiring scalp.

JOYCE

Long day, Frank? You look worn out.

frank

Yes, dear. But it’s nice to be home now. Nice and cosy in here. How was your day?

joyce

What did you say?

Frank looks questioningly towards the stereo.

frank

(louder)

I said – Dear, would you mind turning down the music?

Joyce puts her book down, and walks over to the stereo and switches it off.

frank

I didn’t say you had to turn it off, dear.

joyce

It’s not important.

She returns to her armchair, and sits looking placidly at Frank, who removes his jacket and pulls off his tie.

joyce

You don’t look well, Frank.

frank

I know, honey. I don’t quite feel myself. I think I’m just working too hard.

joyce

That must be it, Frank. It can’t be good for you to have all these late night meetings.

Frank looks sharply at Joyce, who stares back blankly.

frank

Shall I get you your sherry?

joyce

Yes, Frank, that would be very nice.

Frank walks out of the room towards the kitchen. Joyce smiles a secret smile to herself. 

joyce (cont’d)

(shouting)

Frank, don’t you think the sherry smells a trifle strange?

There’s a long pause.

frank (o.s.)

Hmmm, can’t say I do, honey.

Frank reappears with a GLASS OF SHERRY in one hand, and, in the other, a GLASS OF BOURBON clinking with ice. Frank offers the sherry glass to Joyce, who sniffs it.

JOYCE

I’m really quite sure of it. A distinctly fetid smell. Here, taste it.

frank

Dear, you know I don’t like sherry. It all tastes strange to me. Fetid, that is.

joyce

Perhaps it’s me. Going dotty in my old age. Down the hatch, then.

She raises her glass to Frank, who follows suit, and they both drink deeply. They both look up at one another, almost expectantly. Finally, Joyce breaks the spell, and picks up her book, carefully bookmarks it, and picks up a different book from the coffee table, a YELLOW BOOK, with a soft back.

frank

What’s the book, honey?

Joyce raises the book wordlessly, while continuing to read, so that Frank can see the cover page.

frank (cont’d)

“Webcams for Dummies.” … is that a good read honey?

joyce

Fascinating.

frank

You don’t say. It’s kind of an odd book for you to be reading, isn’t it?

joyce

Probably.

frank

Well?

Joyce continues to read.

frank (cont’d)

Okay, honey, satisfy my curiosity. What’s with the book?

Joyce places the book in her lap. A half-smile forms on her face.

joyce

Well, Frank, it really is the most fascinating book. You’d be amazed what you can do these days. Do you know they have these tiny little wireless webcams you can put almost anywhere?

frank

Really. That’s, ah hem, fascinating.

joyce

Yes.

Joyce’s smile broadens slightly. She looks down at her book again.

joyce

(flatly)

I have one in the closet.

frank

You have what in the closet?

joyce

A webcam.

Franks stares at her down-turned head fixedly, a look of shock dawning in his eyes.

frank

Which closet?

Joyce gestures towards the kitchen, still without looking up.

FRANK

(in deadly earnest)

Which closet?

Finally, Joyce puts her book down. The smile has gone.

joyce

The drinks cabinet.

Frank jumps out of his chair, and rushes into the kitchen. After a minute, he comes back with a tiny little BLACK CAMERA.

joyce (cont’d)

I suppose there’s something you want to tell me.

Frank is ashen-faced.

frank

It’s not what you think.

JOYCE

Actually, it’s not what you think, Frank. A few weeks ago, I noticed the strangest smell to the sherry you brought me. I didn’t think anything of it at first. But then I realized that the sherry didn’t smell that way if I poured it myself.

frank

You’ve been drinking alone?

joyce

(grimacing)

I’ve taken to drinking in the afternoon, I’m afraid. The classic woman home alone with the bottle. I refill the decanter each time from a bottle I have hidden away. Of course, I began to wonder why it would smell differently when you gave me the sherry. That’s when I heard about these little webcams. And I thought I’d do some detective work. You’ve been putting a little bit of poison in my sherry each day, haven’t you, Frank?

frank

I haven’t dear, honestly!

Frank buries his face in his hands.

frank (cont’d)

Oh Lord, how can I explain.

joyce

No need to explain, Frank, I’ve seen it right there on the webcam. I don’t know where you keep your little bottle. I’ve never been able to find out, though Lord knows, I’ve turned that kitchen inside out. But I have all the proof I need on the webcam. I saw you pour some of your poison into my sherry glass each day. I’ve always suspected you just married me for my money, but I never thought you’d actually kill me for it.

frank

It’s not poison, Joyce. It’s … I’m ashamed to admit this. It’s an elixir. A love elixir. It’s supposed to … Well, it’s supposed to increase a woman’s desire for sex.

Joyce’s eyes widen.

joyce

You expect me to believe that?

Frank runs into the kitchen. The sounds of FRANTIC SEARCH. He returns with a SHORT BOTTLE of clear liquid. On the home-made label is type-written “Dr Jamaica’s Lovin Liquid”.

frank

I’m sorry dear. I feel horrible about this. I just didn’t know what else to do. We used to enjoy each other so much …

Frank looks curiously at Joyce who has gone completely white.

frank (cont’d)

Joyce? Joyce – what’s wrong? It’s quite harmless this stuff. Don’t even think it worked at all!

joyce

(horror-stricken)

Frank, have you noticed that your bourbon has had a peculiar taste recently?

Frank looks puzzled. Picks up his glass of bourbon and makes to cautiously taste it.

Joyce (cont’d)

Don’t! I’ve been dissolving rat poison in the bourbon bottle. Oh my dear Lord, what have I done!