FADE THE FUCK IN:
INT. UTA MAILROOM - NIGHT
Superimposed: "UTA MAILROOM SATURDAY NIGHT 9:52 PM". A beat then OFF THE CLOCK appears along with a cha-ching sound effect.
A lone MAIL ROOM EMPLOYEE is burning the midnight oil on a Saturday evening in the mail room. Why is he here working on a Saturday night unpaid? We have no fucking clue. Maybe he is brown nosing to management trying to get promoted to a desk, maybe one of the partners was expecting an important letter to be delivered to the office on Saturday and needs it immediately, maybe this guys is just a big fucking loser and has nowhere better to be on Saturday night...IRRELEVANT, he's there and he's sorting through some fucking mail.
He picks up a stack of letters labeled "Noomi Rapace fan mail." He unties the stack and non-chalantly opens a letter and pours it's contents onto the table. A small card and a bunch of white powder fall out onto his desk.
MAIL ROOM EMPLOYEE
Sweet, cocaine!
The Mail Room Employee then picks up the card to examine, the meaning of this...I mean obviously he is keeping the drugs, but who are they from? Some crazy fan? Is that how they role in Sweden, sending their role models grams of blow. We zoom on the card which reads. "Enjoy the anthrax you fucking cunt :) "
MAIL ROOM EMPLOYEE
Fuck...
AND SMASH TO BLACK
That's how short films are made bitches, simple premise, complete story with a beginning middle and end...and oh by the way, run time of 7 seconds. Coming to a film festival near you, please let me know if you would like to get involved.
Email me your ideas for really short films and I'll post them here and if a lot of people like the idea we'll shoot them and post them on the blog.
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