APPENDIX A

Single-camera film format

  Sample Script Pages

PERFECT PITCH

FADE IN:

EXT. VAN NUYS APARTMENT — MORNING

A 12-year-old tagger, not unlike a pit bull, leaves his mark on a fire hydrant outside this dreary stucco complex.

It’s a picture-perfect day in the Valley. Not a cloud in the beige sky.

An ALARM CLOCK GOES OFF.

INT. STUDIO APARTMENT

A feminine arm shoots out of the covers and gropes a bedside table for the ALARM. Knocks a pair of glasses onto the floor. Keeps searching. Tips an empty coffee mug onto its side. Finally finds the clock and hits snooze. The ALARM GOES SILENT.

The arm drops back onto the bed.

The ALARM CLOCK TICKS.

VENETIAN BLINDS

RATTLE almost imperceptibly.

OVERTURNED COFFEE MUG

rocks gently back and forth.

WIDE ON APARTMENT

Silence for the longest time. Then all hell breaks loose.

The ROOM SHAKES VIOLENTLY. The bed hops like a spastic rabbit. Pictures drop off the walls.

The COFFEE MUG falls and SHATTERS.

ASPIRING SCREENWRITER

explodes from beneath the covers, eyes wide with terror as her APARTMENT QUAKES around her. GRETCHEN PFLUM.

2.

Beside her bed a computer monitor sways violently, tips and topples.

Gretchen dives. Gets tangled in the sheets. Hits the floor just as the MONITOR SMASHES over the top of the printer.

And then it ALL STOPS. Just like that. Gretchen looks around the apartment. It’s an unbelievable mess. So’s she. Early 20s, she’s rumpled and badly shaken. But sodarn cute you don’t care.

Seven seconds of silence. And then the PIPES over her head BURST. WATER DRENCHES the apartment.

EXT. GRETCHEN’S APARTMENT — MORNING

The door is flung open. Gretchen staggers outside. Rumpled, shaken and now soaked. But still cute. CAR ALARMS are BLARING. DOGS are BARKING. Neighbors are spilling from their apartments. Gretchen looks around, spots an elderly woman in a muumuu.

GRETCHEN

Stella, what just happened? What
was that?!

STELLA toddles toward Gretchen, utterly unruffled.

STELLA

Oh, I’d say about a six point one
or six point two.
Have a muffin,
dear.

       (hands Gretchen one
       and glances at her
       watch)

Didn’t you have a meeting this
morning?

Gretchen blanches.

GRETCHEN

Oh no.

INT. GRETCHEN’S APARTMENT

She appears in the doorway.  WATER continues to RAIN DOWN.

GRETCHEN

Oh no.

She plunges into the room.

3.

Steps over fallen items to her computer. Sees the shattered monitor atop the printer.

GRETCHEN

OH NO.
       (a cry from the
       depths)
MY PITCH!!!!!!!!!!

She starts to dig. Heaves the monitor to the floor. Her PHONE RINGS. She looks for it. Can’t find it. It KEEPS RINGING. In frustration she kicks the monitor shell. Unearthing the phone. She answers.

GRETCHEN

Hello?

GRETCHEN’S MAMA (V.O.)

Baby?

INTERCUT WITH:

EXT. KANSAS FARM — ENDLESS WHEAT FIELD — DAY

GRETCHEN’S MAMA in the air-conditioned, glassed-in cockpit of a massive, modern combine, mowing down wheat. She’s got a cell phone to her ear. A RADIO PLAYS LOW in the b.g.

GRETCHEN

Mama?

GRETCHEN’S MAMA

Listen, baby, I can’t talk long
but I want you to Fed Ex me some
more of that good mango salsa.

Gretchen picks gingerly through the broken glass that litters her computer equipment. She pulls a stack of soggy pages from the printer.

GRETCHEN’S MAMA

Your father and I drizzled it over
our grilled salmon last night
and — —

GRETCHEN

       (starting to cry)
Mama, I just had an earthguake.

GRETCHEN’S MAMA

An earthguake? Are you sure,
baby?

4.

GRETCHEN

       (crying harder)
Of course I’m sure — —

GRETCHEN’S MAMA

Because I’ve got on C.N.N, and
they’re not saying a thing about
an earthguake.

Gretchen looks at the destruction all around her. Doesn’t know what to say.

GRETCHEN

Mama, I’ve got to go. I have a
very important meeting and I
overslept and then the earthguake
woke me up — —

GRETCHEN’S MAMA

Well there you go! Blessing in
disguise.
       (then)
Gotta go, baby.
Don’t forget the
salsa.
Kisses.

She clicks off. Leaving Gretchen remembering why she fled Kansas in the first place.

CUT TO:

EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING — PARKING LOT — GRETCHEN’S CAR — DAY

A WHIMPERING sound as Gretchen rushes up, dressed, her hair still wet. She hears the sound and looks around. Sees nothing. Unlocks her door. The WHIMPERING again. She looks beneath her car.

HER POV UNDER CAR

A dirty, frightened CHIHUAHUA cowers, CRYING.

GRETCHEN (O.S.)

Hey there, Taco Bell, what’s
wrong?

BACK TO SCENE

Gretchen extends her arms. The dog races from under her car and leaps into them. She laughs.

5.

GRETCHEN

Earthquake scare you, little guy?
       (beat)
Listen, I’ve got to run.
Where do
you belong?

The little dog licks her face.

EXT. STUDIO GATE — DAY

Gretchen pulls up to the guard shack in her ’83 Civic. A GUARD steps up to the car.

GUARD

Going to see?

GRETCHEN

       (intimidated)
Ian von Blitzenkrantz.

GUARD

The producer?
       (looks over her sad
       little car)
Here to dust his Oscars?

Something rises up inside Gretchen. She is, after all, a screenwriter.

GRETCHEN

No, I’m not here to dust his
Oscars.
I’m here to win him
another one.

The Guard is duly impressed by her moxy.

GUARD

Name?

GRETCHEN

Gretchen Pflum.  P-F-L-U-M.

The Guard checks his list.

GUARD

Don’t see it.
       (looks inside car)
And you can’t bring in the dog.

The little chihuahua sits on the passenger seat. Eating Gretchen’s pitch.

GRETCHEN

No, no, no!!!

6.

She pulls the half-eaten pages from the dog’s mouth. They’re beyond salvage.

GRETCHEN

Oh nooooooooo!!!

INT. PRODUCER’S OFFICES — RECEPTION AREA — DAY

A hard-driving young executive WANNA-BE jabbers into a telephone headset while he surfs the Web. Everything he says he says fast.

WANNA-BE

Von Blitzenkrantz Entertainment…
He’s in a meeting can were turn?

He looks up as Gretchen enters.

WANNA-BE

       (to phone)
Hold please.
       (to Gretchen)
Help you?

GRETCHEN

Gretchen Pflum. I have a meeting
with Mr.
von Blitzenkrantz. I
may be a little, um … late.

WANNA-BE

Have a seat I’ll let him know you’re here.
Want anything to drink?
Coffeesodawater?

Gretchen takes a beat to decode his spiel.

GRETCHEN

Oh. Well. Um. Water.

She smiles.

WANNA-BE

Bottled or tap?

GRETCHEN

Oh. Um. Bottled.

WANNA-BE

Perrier or Evian?

GRETCHEN

… Perrier.

7.

WANNA-BE

Room temperature or refrigerated?

Gretchen just stares.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. RECEPTION AREA — LATER

Time has passed. Lots of time. The bottle of Perrier is empty. Gretchen’s trying to piece together what’s left of her tattered pitch. The Wanna-Be is still on the phone.

WANNA-BE

No I haven’ tread the script I’ve read the
coverage.
Great coverage. Huge
coverage.
Best coverage I’ veever
read.
Plugin Or lando or Mattor Will
and you’ vegotahit.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. RECEPTION AREA — LATER

The Wanna-Be is gone. Gretchen still waits. Finally, a voice like a foghorn bellows from O.S.

VOICE (O.S.)

Jason?!… Jason?!… Jason?!…
Jason?!

A puffy-faced guy in his 50s pads out in his bare feet. IAN VON BLITZENKRANTZ. He sees there’s no one behind the desk. Spots Gretchen.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

Who are you?

GRETCHEN

Gretchen Pflum. I’m supposed to
pitch to Mr.
von Blitzenkrantz.

He stares at her an uncomfortably long moment. At long, long last:

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

Okey-dokey.

8.

INT. VON BLITZENKRANTZ’S OFFICE — DAY

Movie posters from his Oscar-winning films cover the walls. Statuettes litter the desk. Gretchen sits on the couch, dry-mouthed and tongue-tied, leafing through the pages of her prepared pitch. Von Blitzenkrantz waits.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

So, sweetheart. Now’s when you
tell me a story.

Gretchen looks up like a deer caught in the headlights. Clears her throat. Sets the pages aside. And begins.

GRETCHEN

A studio apartment in Van Nuys.
An alarm clock is ringing.
There’s a girl — —

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

How old?

GRETCHEN

Early twenties.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

Good. We’ll get that chick from
“Alias.”

GRETCHEN

The girl’s in bed. She’s
overslept.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

Who’s she with?

GRETCHEN

Who’s she with? Um… she’s
alone.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

She’s alone?
       (guffaws)
How interesting is that?!
       (then)
No, seriously.

GRETCHEN

Well … okay … she’s not
completely alone.
There’s a dog.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

What kind of dog?

9.

GRETCHEN

Chihuahua.

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

Chihuahuas are hot right now. I
like the way you think.

GRETCHEN

Then this massive earthquake hits.
BANG!!!

She slams her hand down on the coffee table. Von Blitzenkrantz nearly jumps out of his skin. He cocks his head and studies Gretchen. At long last throws his hands straight up in the air and exclaims:

VON BLITZENKRANTZ

I love this stuff!!!
       (stands)
I gotta pee.
       (heads for the door)
But you keep going.
You’re doing
great.

He disappears. Gretchen looks around the empty office. Shrugs. And keeps going.

GRETCHEN

So the bed starts jumping around
like a spastic rabbit, the girl is
like insane with fear —

Gretchen gets up and crosses to the enormous desk. Admires the Oscars there.

GRETCHEN

But she doesn’t care, she’s got
the first pitch meeting of her
life and nothing is going to stop
her.

She spots a little dust on one of the statuettes. Buffs it with her sleeve.

GRETCHEN

But then she sees her computer
monitor about to crash onto her
only copy of her perfect,
wonderful pitch.
She dives! And
snatches that bad boy out of the
air
!!!

10.

Gretchen smiles like the sunrise. ’Cause she’s in Hollywood now.

FADE OUT.

THE END