TERROR

by Chris Emmerson

Short Film
Email: [email protected]

'Terror' is a short film script for a joke film. The film is primarily comedy-based and depicts two young Arabic men on their morning trip to work, encountering various obstacles and ultimately coming to a climax as to what the film is all about.

 TERROR

                   By Chris Emmerson


EXT.  SUBURBAN COURT  -  DUSK
A white 1980's Holden Commodore pulls up outside a dimly lit porch.  Middle Eastern music with high-pitched singing sounds from the car radio.  The rest of the neighbourhood is dark and quiet.   The hand brake crunches and the engine turns off, but the music remains.
INT.  ABDUL'S CAR
ABDUL, an Arabic man (30's), wears a red and black checkered shirt, overalls and boots and has a thick black beard and moustache.  He checks his 'G shock' watch, then pulls out a mobile phone and dials.  As it rings he peers towards the house.  
INT.  TJ'S ROOM
TJ's room is a mess.  Beer bottles sit next to the double bed and clothes litter the floor.  TJ, Arabic (30's) and shirtless, is on the right side of the bed and on the left is SARAH (20's), hidden under the sheets.  TJ's phone sits next to his bed on a table, ringing and vibrating.  The ring tone is 'Can't Touch This' by MC Hammer.  Sarah rolls over, nestling up to TJ and groaning.  TJ wakes with his arm around her and reaches wearily for the phone.  He utters sleepy gibberish.
INT.  ABDUL'S CAR
Abdul and TJ speak with strong Arabic accents.
ABDUL
TJ it's Abdul.
INT.  TJ'S ROOM
TJ
(disorientated; into phone)
What?  What are you selling?  A pool?  I have no room for a pool here, sir.  I'm renting you see, and there's such little room I-
ABDUL (V.O.)
(over phone)
What?  TJ, it's Abdul, man.  Are you ready?
TJ
(sleepy; into phone)
Oh, fuck, Abdul.  Today's the third?  I thought the third was a Wednesday.
INT. ABDUL'S CAR
Abdul thumps the dashboard with his hand.
ABDUL
(into phone)
What?  It is fucking Wednesday, TJ. Get the hell out here.  We're already late.
SARAH (V.O.)
(over phone)
TJ, baby, who is it?  Come back to sleep, baby.  You're not going anywhere 'till I'm done with you.
Sarah giggles.
INT. TJ'S ROOM
ABDUL (V.O.)
(frustrated; over phone)
Who the fuck was that?  TJ, you got two minutes to get your god damn arse out here, or I swear to Allah...
TJ and the woman restrain from laughing at Abdul's outburst.
TJ
(into phone)
Ok, ok, Abduley.  Be there in a minute, man.  Sit tight.
TJ hangs the phone up.  Him and the Sarah laugh.
INT. ABDUL'S CAR
Abdul hangs up, irritated.  He stares around the car and then anxiously at TJ's house.
ABDUL
(under breath)
Fucking TJ.
ABDUL'S P.O.V:  TJ exits the house.  He wears overalls, a shirt, and wears religious head dressing.  On his way out he trips on the step at the door, stumbling to the ground before casually rising again with a reassuring look on his face.  He walks halfway to the car before realising he has forgotten something.  He signals to Abdul to wait and rushes back in.  Abdul throws his hands in the air in aggravation.  Seconds later TJ emerges with a Red Bull and stumbles to the passenger seat.  He opens the door and sits.
ABDUL
What are you doing, TJ?
TJ points at the Red Bull.
TJ
It gives you wings, man.
TJ cracks open the Red Bull and takes a sip.  Abdul shakes his head and sighs.
ABDUL
Can you check the trunk, please?
TJ
(whinging)
You check it, man.  Why do I always have to check the fucking trunk?
Abdul gives TJ a serious stare.
ABDUL
(frustrated)
Just check the trunk and make sure we have everything, ok?
TJ opens the door and puts one foot out.  He pauses and turns to Abdul.
TJ
Abduly the muley.  Always such a grumpy lump in the mornings.
TJ exits the car. Abdul sighs to himself and glances the rear view mirror.  The boot creaks open.
ABDUL
Everything set?
TJ (O.S)
Tickin' like a chicken, brother.
EXT. STREET
TJ shuts the boot but it doesn't close properly.  He walks to the passenger door vibrantly, the Red Bull clearly having its effects.  He re-enters the car, sipping intermittently at the drink.  Abdul turns and stares at TJ's head dress and then at TJ.
TJ
Abdul, my friend, I know I'm a sexy beast in the mornings, but man, we have less than an hour before-
ABDUL
TJ, take that thing off your head.  You know we're meant to look uh...western or whatever.
TJ unwraps the head dress and puts it in the glove box.  He stares innocently at Abdul like a child who's just been told off.
ABDUL
We're professionals, TJ.  We have to do the job right.
TJ stares out the window and Abdul stares at TJ.  Abdul reaches into the glove box and takes out two name badges.  TJ turns to see what Abdul's holding. 
ABDUL
Ok, name badges.
Abdul hands him one of the badges.  TJ hesitantly pins the badge to his overalls.  He stops and stares at it for a moment.
TJ
Abduley, you always get fucking Joe!
Abdul concentrates on attaching the name badge, but is struggling.
ABDUL
Huh?
TJ
Every time, man.  You're always big, mean, masculine Joe, and I'm little piss weak Gary.  You're sidekick.
TJ throws his arm up indignantly.
ABDUL
I'm Joe, man.  That's how it's always been.  We can't just swap identities each time we do this.  Eh?
TJ
It's like Batman and Robin, man.  Robin never gets any recognition.  And he looks looks ridiculous.  What was he in, like one of the movies?
Abdul finally attaches his name badge.
ABDUL
(calm voice)
TJ, you are Gary.  And yes, Gary is like Robin, because Robin was too fucking stupid to run the show.  And as to why, you know why.  People get...uneasy very easily these days.  Even our names are enough to unsettle them.  We need to gain their confidence before we can do the job, especially today.  This one is a huge building in the city, a lot of people will see us in public. 
TJ sighs and stares out the window again, leaning with his hand under his chin.
TJ
(mumbled under breath)
I still don't see why I can't be fucking Joe for once.
TJ sips the Red Bull.
ABDUL
What?
TJ swallows the mouthful of Red Bull.
TJ
Nothing, Duley, nothing.  Let's roll.
Abdul gives TJ a suspicious look.  He starts the car and they drive down the street. 
EXT. THE HIGHWAY
The Commodore cruises down a highway leading to the city.  Middle Eastern music continues to play. 
We see a sticker on the bumper reading: I (Love Heart) New York, above which the boot moves up and down ominously.
ABDUL (O.S.)
You're sure everything's ok back there, TJ?  What's that bumping noise?
TJ (O.S.)
It's nothing, man.
ABDUL (O.S.)
Are you sure?
TJ (O.S.)
Abduly the muley, if you can't trust the TJ, baby, who can you trust?
ABDUL (O.S)
Don't fucking call me that, man.
They zoom down the highway amongst the morning traffic and disappear into the distance.
INT./EXT.  ABDUL'S CAR/THE HIGHWAY
TJ looks bored.  He fiddles with his name badge and adjusts his sitting position several times.  He goes to change the music, sparking a reaction from Abdul who waves his left hand indignantly.
ABDUL
Hey, TJ, man, I'm listening to this.
TJ
Abduly, no offence, but this sounds like an Indian porno, man.
Abdul looks aggravated, but slightly understanding.
ABDUL
Well what have you got?  You brought music, eh?
TJ
Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Hold up, Abduly.  Let me surprise you, man.
TJ pulls a cassette from his overalls and loads it.  He stares at the player excitedly.  Abdul glances at the player with an intrigued expression, before his eyes return to the road.  'Straight Outta Compton', a 1980's gangster rap song begins playing.
ABDUL
(confused)
Who...?
TJ
Hush hush, man, just listen.
The song kicks in.  It plays for a few seconds before Abdul starts nodding his head to the music.
ABDUL
Hey!  This is Ice Cube, man.
TJ looks shocked.
TJ
You know this?
Beat.  Abdul throws TJ a concerned look.
ABDUL
(over-casual)
Every brother knows the Cube, man.
Abdul turns the volume up and the two bob their heads, thoroughly enjoying the music.
The song plays as the car drives down the highway.  The car hits a small pothole and we see the boot click open.  We don't see what's in it.  Abdul and TJ don't notice.
ABDUL
I haven't listened to this since I was sixteen, man.  I used to live on this.  I forgot just how good it was.
TJ
Yeah, so much better than the shit they spew out these days, you know?  I mean, pimps, hoes, I ain't got time for that shit.  This is the real shit, the stuff all these modern rappers worship but can't fucking do.
Suddenly Abdul has a stressed look on his face as he glances the revision mirror.
TJ
If they even had the slightest idea how to-
ABDUL
Oh, shit.
TJ sees Abdul's expression and turns to see the open boot.
TJ
Oh, fuck.
Abdul swings the car wildly to the service lane at the side of the road.  He exits the car hastily, tripping as he goes, scurries to the boot, closes it and rushes back to the car.  He turns the music off and places his forehead on the steering wheel, puffing.
TJ
Abdul, are you ok?
ABDUL
(yelling)
I thought you said you checked the fucking boot, TJ.
TJ
Yeah I did, I shut-
ABDUL
I thought you said you CHECKED THE FUCKING BOOT.
There's an intense silence in the car.  Abdul lifts his head, leans it back on the head rest and wipes the sweat off his brow with his hand.  Suddenly a police siren rings.  Abdul's face darts to the revision mirror.  TJ turns and looks behind them. 
ABDUL
You have got to be kidding me.
ABDUL'S P.O.V: In the revision mirror a police car has pulled up behind them.  It's sirens are on but silent.  A large police officer with a moustache and sunglasses on exits the car and walks towards theirs.  Another officer waits in the car.
TJ looks desperately at Abdul.
TJ
What'd we do?
ABDUL
Just play it cool, TJ.
The officer struts up next to the car with only his lower half viewable.  He knocks on the window.  Abdul unwinds the window and leans one arm out.
ABDUL
Good morning, officer.  What seems to be the trouble, my friend?
The officer leans down, glancing into the car at TJ.
OFFICER
Good evening...
The officer lowers his sunglasses and looks at TJ's badge.
OFFICER
(suspecting)
Gary.
He then looks at Abdul's badge.
OFFICER
And Joe.
TJ buts in desperately.
TJ
We're Australian born, sir.  We are on our way to-
OFFICER
I'm asking the questions here, buddy.  What are you doing in the service lane?
The officer nods at Abdul before they have time to answer.
OFFICER
You.  I'm gonna need to see your licence.
Abdul sighs and hesitates before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.  He produces his driver's licence and hands it to the officer.
OFFICERS P.O.V: He holds the licence up, close to his face.  It reads: Abdul Fatima, and has an I.D photo of Abdul.
Inside the car Abdul and TJ stare at each other uneasily.
OFFICER
Mr Fatima, could you please step out of the vehicle and show me exactly what it is you were so desperately trying to hide in the trunk?
Both TJ and Abdul are slightly shocked.  They were unaware that the police were present when Abdul shut the boot.
ABDUL
(nervously laughing)
I wasn't trying to hide anything, sir!  I was merely in a hurry so I could get out of the service-
OFFICER
Step out of the car...
The officer gives a cheeky grin.
OFFICER
(sarcastically)
Gary.
Abdul pauses with a sour look before pulling the boot lever at the side of his seat and exiting the car.  TJ glances uneasily after them. 
Abdul and the officer stand outside the car boot.  He is on his radio to the officer waiting in the police car.
OFFICER
Jenny, call the station and inform units within ten blocks that we have a suspect vehicle on the main highway, repeat, a suspect vehicle.  Back up may be necessary.
Cars speed past as the officer waits for Abdul to open the boot.
OFFICER
Well?
ABDUL
You're making a big mistake here. This isn't what you think.  We were just-
OFFICER
Sir, I asked you to open the boot.  If you don't, I will.
Abdul sighs and walks to the boot.  He places a hand underneath it to open it.  He pauses and stares at the officer, who, with his arms folded, nods.
BOOTS P.O.V: From inside the boot we see Abdul and the officer standing over us.  Abdul has a concerned look on his face.  The officer lifts his sunglasses above his eyes and stares for a moment.  He leans forwards, squinting.
We now see what's in the boot:  two large pest-control back packs, one reading 'Joe' and one 'Gary'.  Both of them have a large Australian Flag and an emblem on them with a motto which the officer reads.
OFFICER
Joe and Gary's pest control, Australia's most comprehensive pest control team.
The officer tries to restrain laughter while Abdul leans on the car, one hand resting on the boot.  The officer speaks amongst outbursts of laughter into the radio.
OFFICER
(amidst laughing)
Jenny, dismiss the car as a suspect vehicle.  The most we're gonna book these guys for is false advertising.
The officer lets out a hearty laugh.  Abdul looks unimpressed.
CREDITS (STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON PLAYS)
THE END

Download Script

Script Submission Form

Sponsored Links