For the final project in my screenwriting class, I had to write the first five to ten pages of an original screenplay. The following is my final project presented in a modified screenplay format for internet aesthetic purposes.
the main character is Jon Tenorman
V.O. = voice-over
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYM – DAY
Packed like sardines with suburban kids. A motivational SPEAKER addresses the audience.
Speaker: Thank you, thank you. I am so excited to be here today talking to the bright students of Dukakis High School.
JON wastes away in the bleachers. Yawns.
Speaker: How many of you are in love? Raise your hands if you are in love.
A couple students raise their hands.
Speaker: Good, good. You know, love is the most precious thing in life. We love life. We love this earth. We love our friends and family. We want to be there whenever they need us, in times of joy, in times of trouble. Just being there is a great emotional support. The least we can do for our loved ones is to be there. And if those whom we love are important to us, then someone whom they love – that is, you and I – should also be important.
Dead crowd. Jon nudges RORY.
Jon: Can you believe this hack?
Speaker: And if we love them, then how can we destroy ourselves with drugs? What if a few years from now, someone I love is in trouble, or in great joy, and desperately needs me to share and care, but I can't help them because I'm addicted to marijuana?
Jon surveys the audience. Sees some fellow seniors machinating.
Jon: (V.O.) Oh brother. Here we go again. 1…2…
Seniors: Freshmen suck!
Various seniors cheer. The PRINCIPAL, mortified, borrows the speaker's microphone.
Principal: Gentlemen. What you just did was very disrespectful to our guest spe
Freshmen: Seniors suck!
Various freshmen cheer and various seniors boo simultaneously.
Principal: Cut it out, people! This behavior is unacceptable, especially wh
Juniors: Freshmen suck!
Many upperclassmen cheer. Chaos ensues.
Freshmen: Fuck you!
Sophomores: Juniors suck!
Seniors: Seniors rule!
EXT. – HIGH SCHOOL CORRIDOR – DAY
Jon walks with Rory.
Jon: 100 more days. 100 more days and I'm getting out of this morass and going some place far, far away where I don't have to put up with any of this shit anymore.
Rory: You expect college to be the land of milk and honey? Beer ain't ambrosia, buddy.
Jon: Who says I'm going to college?
Rory: Well, you applied to ten schools. I would assume that you're gonna attend one of them. Besides, why wouldn't you be going to college? You don't look like the flipping burgers type to me.
Jon: I've decided that I don't like school, and I don't think I wanna go anymore. So far this year, I've only been motivated to write my column for the school paper and pray that the admin moves graduation day up to sometime in March or April. Everything else sucks. Might as well put a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brains in AP Chem. I really don't like school and, uh, I think this is it.
Rory: What will your family say though?
Jon: My family?
INT. – OFFICE – DAY
JON'S DAD talks madly on a phone.
Jon: (V.O.) Let me tell you about my family. My dad sells insurance for a living and trades stocks on the side, allegedly investing in my future. I'll be homeless in a coupla years. Look for me on the streets. When he's not working, my dad preoccupies himself with technological equipment, hoping to make it big with the help of computers. Yeah. He enjoys gawking at online porn.
INT. – SUPERMARKET – DAY
JON'S MOM violently disputes a receipt with a cashier.
Jon: (V.O.) My mom takes ceramics classes at a local community college. Needless to say, shitty pottery pervades our house. If you ever need an ashtray or a pot, stop by. Unlike most ceramics students though, it doesn't require much to make my mom angry. She always seems to be pissed at something. Just last week, she threw a tantrum at a Girl Scout who ran outta Thin Mints and only had Caramel DeLites.
EXT. – STARBUCKS – DAY
JON'S OLDER BROTHER plays a cello concerto outside the entrance.
Jon: (V.O.) My older brother's a pothead. He dropped out of school and now lives at home, spending his days smoking pot and playing cello on random street corners downtown. He used to be the top student in his class, but after he was suspended junior year of high school for – what else? – smoking pot in the girl's bathroom, he started acting out upon his return to school…
EXT. – SCHOOLYARD – DAY
Jon's older brother stands on a soapbox and preaches to gathering of students.
Jon's Older Brother: Vote Jack Tenorman for Principal!
Jon: (V.O.) …and soon left with a GED.
INT. – DANCE HALL – DAY
JON'S LITTLE SISTER practices contemporary dance.
Jon: (V.O.) My six year-old sister likes to dance. This, of course, means that she will inevitably take up cheerleading, lose her virginity to a drunken Pop Warner football player, have major work done on her body as a sweet sixteen present, and wind up a sad, pathetic, not to mention stupid, bleached-blond chain-smoking waitress at a 24-hour diner who lives in a trailer with her two bastard children.
EXT. – HIGH SCHOOL CORRIDOR – DAY
Jon: So yeah. I think I could use a break from my family. I'm thinking about living abroad for a while. I have a brochure right here.
Jon gives Rory the brochure.
Rory: It says here that even though it's not technically study abroad, you still need a 3.0 GPA to participate in the program. You, sir, are no 3.0 student, and don't give me that second semester senior bullcrap.
Jon: For your information, I currently have a 2.85, and if it wasn't for fucking Spanish, I'd be set.
Rory: Señora Gaylord's class?
Rory: I hear she's an easy teacher.
Jon: I know! But for some reason, she doesn't like me, and I can't explain why. This is the fourth consecutive year I've had her for Spanish too. Why did she have to torment me throughout my pitiful foreign language education? Why couldn't she have just stuck to teaching Spanish 1 or something?
Rory: Teachers like variety. If I was a teacher, I'd hate to teach the same class year after year.
Jon: But it's Spanish! What variety is there? You teach Spanish; you don't teach Spanish. You teach Spanish; you don't teach Spanish. You teach Spanish; you retire. Goddammit…
Rory: I'm sure you'll be fine.
Jon: No, I won't. I've yet to get higher than a C on anything under her reign. She hates me. Take yesterday, for example. I asked her nicely to speak in English and she proceeded to go on this tirade about how it's Spanish class and we should speak Spanish, totally oblivious to the fact that we live in America, and things should be taught in American.
Jon: Plus, she insists on calling me "juice" in Spanish. My Spanish name is Hugo, not "ugo," thank you very much.
Rory: Dude, Hs are silent in Spanish.
Jon sighs heavily.
Jon: I tell ya, she's the bane of my existence and unfortunately, also the key to my freedom. If only there was a way to get rid of her.
Rory: Have you thought about killing her?
Jon: Oh that's a wonderful idea. Let's do that, Hornblower. Let's shoot up our school and become the next Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold.
Jon: The two Columbine kids.
Rory: Man, those guys are gonna be in jail for a long time.
Jon puts his head in his hands. Mopes.
Jon: What am I gonna do?
INT – CLASSROOM – DAY
Rory reads the school newspaper out loud.
Rory: I hereby beseech each and every one of you to join the fight and demand the dismissal of Señora Gaylord on charges of being too damn hot. How am I and many of my peers supposed to concentrate in her class if we all have giant throbbing boners? When Spanish class becomes sex ed, you know something's wrong. Let's face it. Gaylord's gotta go in order to guarantee an all-around quality education for all the students of Dukakis High School. Sic semper tyrannis. (to Jon) Jesus monsoon…