I’m starting to get nervous. Just looking ahead, I’m thinking this is a fifty page script at best. Obviously this isn’t good enough for a feature-length film and I don’t want to add filler just to get to my ninety pages. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I’ll just worry about getting what I have in my head down on paper.
A small quaint pub with a long bar and only a few tables with chairs.
The bar’s tinted windows are keeping the bar dark.
The bartender JOEY, 50s, is drying glasses when Sam enters.
The bartender doesn’t even ask what Sam wants to drink. He just starts pouring him a scotch on the rocks and a glass of ice water. He puts both glasses on napkins at the bar.
Sam walks over to the drinks and has a seat.
Damn, what happened to you?
You’re clothes. You’re covered in mud.
Oh, yeah. I fell.
I have to run to the back and stock up. Just holler if you need a refill.
(mumbling to himself)
Sam picks up the shot glass and smells it. He puts the glass back down.
Sam starts rubbing his wedding ring and takes a look at it.
Ah, Claire, you never should have left me. I don’t know what to do without you. It’s all gone to hell since you left.
Sam removes his wedding ring. He drops it in the scotch.
Sam starts drinking the ice water. The bartender comes from the back.
Hey, Joey, take away the scotch. I’m done drinking.