DYSFUNCTION  

written by Sean Hawker 
Copyright 2004

1. 

Over a BLACK SCREEN, a title card:

Dysfunction
 
proceeded by the sound of digging, exasperated breath, forceful strikes of a shovel being plunged into the earth.

SID 
(voice over)
I’ve always had the impression that at the moment of death, life passes by like a collection of old forgotten photographs.
Funny thing is, I can’t remember the last time I took a good look at how my life turned out so far. How I’ve treated others. Whether my words or actions had an effect on somebody’s day. And then its only when death’s here do we decide to consider the life we leave behind. Well, this happens to be one of those times when I took a look at my life… and it sucks.

FADE UP ON:

2.

EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT

From under the star-filled sky, the streetlights project their effervescent glow onto the rows of houses that line the street. One house, enclosed within a white picket fence, DRAWS THE CAMERA TOWARDS IT. A broken swing hangs limp from the branch of a large oak tree and several empty milk bottles are lined up on the front steps.

CUT TO:

3. 

INT. HOUSE. FRONT ROOM - NIGHT

A timeworn 78 spins on a dusty old record player perched on top of a stack of newspapers. The record spins around and around, a audible crackle above the SILENCE. 

One wall of the room is covered with torn pages of dated magazines, articles on good housekeeping, pictures of sculptured faces with white teeth and finely plucked eyebrows. The room has suffered years of apathy and carelessness. A 1950’s style television sits in one corner. Static. As the CAMERA ZOOMS IN SLOWLY, specks of blood are evident on the screen’s surface.

The remains of a broken bottle lay scattered over the floor. A TRAIL OF BLOOD leads away from the debris to the prone body of a LARGE, MIDDLE AGED MAN. Blood covers his head and the carpet. SID, 17, stands over the corpse. One side of his face is BRUISED purple.

Sid inspects the body with his foot. No response. He checks his watch: “11:30pm”

That’s my Father right there. Only child. Son of a fishwife. Apparently, she left her husband for a circus midget. Not sure if it worked out or not. By eighteen, my Father was convicted of armed robbery but eventually found work in a post office for the next thirty two years. He spent his remaining life being an alcoholic by trade. As a Father, he was alright I guess.

Sid kneels down and struggles to turn the body over. For the first time we see FATHER’S pale and expressionless face. Glazed, achromatic eyes hold a wild and surprised stare.

CUT TO:

4. 

FLASHBACK BEGINS.

Sid sits at a table reading a copy of William Faulkner’s ‘As I Lay Dying’ and eating a microwave dinner. Father APPROACHES, a leather belt and whisky bottle in hands.

FATHER
I got a call from your school today tellin’   me that you quit. And that you were rude to some fuckin’ Priest. Been naughty, Sid? What you go to say about that, boy?

An awkward silence falls between them.

Nothin’, huh. Haven’t got a fuckin’ thing to say. Just sat there readin’ your book and bein’ all quiet like a little fagot with nothin’ to say for yourself.

SID 
(apprehensively)
The Chaplain was talking about how important it was to accept Jesus into our lives. 

FATHER
Go on.
SID 
The debate turned into an argument because I didn’t agree.

FATHER
And?

SID
Everyone laughed.

FATHER
Then what?

SID
I walked out of school.

FATHER
Nuh-uh, you missed somethin’ out, boy.

SID
I told the Chaplain to go and fuck his mother in the ass.

FATHER
You sorry about what you said?

SID 
(uncertain)
Yeah. I suppose I am.

Father’s calmness suddenly erupts into a fit of rage. He smacks Sid in the face, knocking him to the ground.

FATHER 
(using the belt)
You’re sorry?! You’re a shit! A fuckin’ shit whose never gonna amount to nothin’! A goddamn fagot cocksucker! My own boy likes to suck cock!

Sid cowers, clenching his eyes shut.

SID 
(straining to get the words out)
I’m… sorry… I’m… so… so sorry.

Father stops, wheezing for breath. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of a hand. After glaring at Sid, he takes a large gulp from the bottle.

FATHER
You got a lot to learn about respect, boy.

He throws the leather belt aside and walks away. Sid is left on the floor.

You go on and read your book now.

Father goes over to the television and SWITCHES IT ON. All that appears is STATIC. He tries to adjust the aerial but the reception gets worse. His temper begins to flare again resulting in him banging the sides of the television with his huge fists. 

(in between gulps from the bottle)
Goddamn it. This TV’s less use to me than you are, boy.

After a furious swig of whisky he abandons the television and goes over to the record player. He chooses Cat Stevens’ ‘The Wind’ and sits back down in a tattered armchair. Father places the bottle on an adjustable coffee table next to a stale TV dinner infested with maggots. SID CAUTIOUSLY RISES, wiping blood from his mouth. He notices the bottle RADIATING AN ENIGMATIC GLOW reminiscent of the Holy Grail. He moves gradually towards it, trying not to attract Father’s attention. Sid’s hand COMES INTO FRAME and picks the bottle up.

Father turns instinctively --WHACK!-- the bottle smashes to bits,  a shower of glass specks and whisky. He staggers out of his chair clutching his bleeding head.

What the hell do you think you’re doin’ boy?

As Father moves threateningly towards Sid, he lunges at him with the broken bottle. He stabs Father in the chest repeatedly, violently extracting chunks of flesh with each blow. 

SID
(hypnotically)
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

FATHER 
(dropping to his knees)
You… little… creep.

He slumps forward, dead.

FLASHBACK ENDS.

CUT TO:

5.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

MEDIUM TO CLOSE UP of a grandfather clock. The time reads: “11:36pm”

CUT TO:

6.

INT. FRONT ROOM - NIGHT

The top half of the body has been wrapped in a large bed sheet, the legs still protruding. Sid TAKES HOLD OF THEM when suddenly the CRIES of a young child OFF SCREEN stops him in his tracks.

CUT TO:

7.

INT. ANGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

ANGEL, 3, is in her crib. Sid appears at the doorway.

SID
What’s the matter, Angel?

Sid passes the threshold and walks over to her. He strokes her hair. Picking up a stuffed dinosaur, he places it beside her.

Mother will be back soon so you just go on and think happy thoughts. Don’t be sad. Someday you’ll be a bright, burning star looking down on the world. As for me, well, I’ve got something I have to do.

CUT TO:

8.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Sid DRAGS Father by the legs through the hallway, passing the grandfather clock, into the kitchen. A trail of blood follows.

CUT TO:

9.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

The kitchen glistens white. A vast collection of knifes and hatchets eerily adorn the walls. On a table a pig’s head looks up at the ceiling. Crimson stains cover the tabletop. A large kitchen apron hangs on the pantry door bearing the slogan “JESUS LOVES YOU.” 

Sid releases Father’s legs and tries to regain his breath. Crossing the room, he goes to the BACK DOOR AND LOOKS OUT THE SMALL, CENTER WINDOW. It peers out over the BACK GARDEN. It’s TOO DARK to see anything clearly.

(voice over) 
I’ve always hated the garden. When I was five I remember Mother telling me never to go out to the garden because bad things happen there. Being a curious child, I eventually went against her wishes.

EXTREME CLOSE UP of Sid’s eyes startled by a vivid memory.

CUT TO: 

10.

FLASHBACK BEGINS.

INT. KITCHEN - DAY (YEARS BEFORE)

SID’S POV: we’re standing at the threshold of the doorway looking out over the garden. It’s a bright, sunny day. 

Father has SOMETHING LARGE WRAPPED IN A PLASTIC SHEET AND ROPE over his shoulder. Mother, whose as big in build as her husband, digs a hole with a large shovel. THEIR HEADS REMAIN OUT OF FRAME for the duration of the scene. 

AFTER A BEAT, Mother rushes TOWARDS CAMERA/SID. Her pace implies she’s angered by her son’s inquisitiveness. Her voice is SLOWED DOWN to the point of slurred speech. A hand comes down and strikes Sid, TOPPLING THE CAMERA and COLLAPSING at Mother’s feet.

FLASHBACK ENDS.

CUT BACK TO:

11.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

The doorbell rings. Sid disconnects from the memory.

CUT TO:

12.

INT. FRONT DOOR - NIGHT

The door opens. Standing on the porch is MATTY, 18. He’s wearing an sleeveless denim jacket and a red bandanna. He’s holding an sizeable joint. 

MATTY
Dude, that shit you caused in school today killed me. Never thought your balls would drop low enough to tell the Chaplain to fuck his mother. 

SID
You shouldn’t be hear right now. Come back some other time.

He tries to shut the door but Matty jams it with his foot.

MATTY
I came all this way to see if you wanted to smoke some- (noticing the bruise on Sid’s face) What did I miss?

SID
Nothing. An accident.

MATTY
You sure about that? You look like you’ve gone the whole twelve rounds and lost, dude. Or the way my cousin, you know the twenty stone fat ass with the narcolepsy, how she looked when she caught some Z’s in the freakin’ bathtub that one time. Yup, bitch went bright purple. Took six of us to lift her out. Didn’t help that she was naked too. That was a crazy day. 

He takes a toke.
 
That’s some good shit. Want some? So, come on, what’s going on here?

SID
I could tell you but that means I’d probably have to kill you.

Sid grins. Matty doesn’t quite know how to take it at this particular moment.

MATTY
Okay, I get what you’re saying. Kinky shit going on upstairs, dude. I knew it. Just be on your guard. Women are killers.

Matty puts on a customised bicycle helmet which has a protruding horn either side, making him look like some sort of Viking. He steps off the porch, gets on his old bicycle, and rings it’s bell as a final goodbye. 

Sid closes the door.

CUT TO:

13.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Sid steps over the corpse and opens the back door. He checks his watch: “11:50pm.”

SID
Damn. Running late. Got to hurry.

He takes Father by the legs again, pulls him to the threshold and, stumbling, out the door.

CUT TO:

14.

EXT. GARDEN - NIGHT

The night sky is full of stars. Sid struggles to drag Father’s corpse over the wet grass. What becomes noticeable to Sid are the RISEN MOUNDS OF EARTH BENEATH HIS FEET. There are dozens. EVERYWHERE.

The sound of a CAR ENGINE becomes INCREASING LOUNDER off-screen.

Oh no! Mother!

CUT TO:

15.

EXT. DRIVEWAY - NIGHT

Car stops outside the gate. LOW ANGLE SHOT of driver side door opening and a pair of feet in nurses’ shoes stepping out. CAMERA FOLLOWS as the gate is unlocked and opened.

CUT TO:

16.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

CLOSE UP SHOT of grandfather clock. Time reads: “11:55pm.”

CUT BACK TO:

17.

EXT. DRIVEWAY - NIGHT

The car pulls slowly into the driveway.

CUT TO:

18.

EXT. GARDEN - NIGHT

Sid begins to tear at the closest piece of untouched ground he can find with his bare hands. He’s getting frantic.

Running late! Got to dig! Dig! Dig! Dig!

CUT BACK TO:

19.

EXT. DRIVEWAY

The engine is turned off. The driver’s side door opens again.

MATTY 
(off screen)
Hey!

Matty, jumping off his bicycle, runs up to the car door. He peers inside.

What’s up with Sid today? He’s acting fucking nuts.

MOTHER 
(off screen)
Didn’t your Mother ever tell you it’s wrong to use profanity?

Matty looks puzzled.

CUT BACK TO:

20.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

CLOSE UP SHOT as the hands of the clock move a minute forward.

The front door swings slowly open with an eerie creek.

CUT BACK TO:

21.

EXT. GARDEN - NIGHT

Sid is frantically making a hole in the wet earth. His hands and face are encrusted with dirt.

CUT TO:

22. 

INT. STAIRWAY - NIGHT

LOW ANGLE SHOT OF nurses’ shot walking up the stairs, following the sound of Angel crying.

CUT TO:

23.
 
INT. ANGEL’S ROOM - NIGHT

A shadow appears over the crib. Angel reaches out, teary eyed.

CUT BACK TO:

22.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

The grandfather clock strikes MIDNIGHT -- DONG!

CUT TO:

23.

EXT. GARDEN - NIGHT

Sid looks up and sees the silhouette of a looming figure standing at the threshold of the back door.

MOTHER
Sidney?

A beat.
Angel’s been crying. You’ve not given her her bottle. You’ve not been looking after her properly, have you?

MOTHER steps forward, the shadows CONCEALING HER FACE. She’s wearing an old-fashion nurses’ uniform and holding Angel in her arms. Her head slowly turns to the motionless body of her husband. 

You’re Father has made such a mess inside. There’s blood everywhere. He was always messy. ‘Mr Messy Boots’ is what I called him. I thought I told you where to find a shovel. I wanted him buried before I got home. 

SID
Yes, I know, Mother. I’m sorry. I should have used the shovel but I panicked when I heard you arrive.

MOTHER
Go get it, child!

Hastily, Sid goes and fetches the shovel from the garden shed. Mother watches his every move.

He begins to dig with a mechanical rhythm, eyes to the ground.

You’re such a disorganized child, Sidney. Always were, even when you were Angel’s age. Couldn’t even organize yourself to go pee-pee properly. Always had to do it in your pants like a naughty boy.

Mother places Angel delicately on the grass.

So many times your Mother had to clean up the messes you made.

Mother’s leviathan frame looms over Sid. 

And she’d always do it so lovingly. You’re too much like your Father. No appreciation. No word of thanks.
Just a naughty, naughty boy.

With her own shovel-like hand she hits Side across the head. He collapses, out cold.

Despite a Mother’s unconditional love, Sidney, naughty boys always have to be punished.

CUT TO BLACK.

The sound of digging - of a shovel scooping up earth.

CUT TO:

24.

INT. GRAVE - NIGHT

Sid’s eyes slowly open, dazed from the impact of the blow. He tries to move but finds he cannot. He looks directly up at the stars. Mother stands six feet above. Sid realises he’s being buried alive. We see Mother’s face for the first time now. Like her voice, her face is kind and sweet.

SID
(drowsy)
What are you doing?

MOTHER 
Wakey, wakey, Sidney. You can’t be napping now.

She throws an object into the grave. It lands with a THUMP. Sid turns his head to see what it is. Matty’s DECAPITATED HEAD looks back at him. Sid tries to scream but can’t emit a sound.

That boy always got on my last nerve. Obnoxious child. Constantly swearing. 

SID
Oh… my… 

MOTHER
I bet he didn’t appreciate his poor Mother either.

She resumes to filling up the grave with fresh dirt.

As I was saying, grown ups have to have responsibilities and organisation otherwise evil and chaos will prevail. That’s the law of nature. Don’t you think so, Sidney?

Sid doesn’t know what to say. He’s trembling with fright.

Answer your Mother. 

SID 
Please, Mother, I don’t know.

MOTHER
Come on. Be a smart boy. Tell me don’t you think grown ups need responsibilities and organisation?

SID
(trembling)
Y-yes… they do.

MOTHER
You failed in your responsibilities, Sidney. That proves you’re just a naughty, little boy. I had to give Angel her bottle and bury your Father tonight. And I’m so tired. A sixteen hour shift every single day just to care for you all.

SID
Please Mother…

MOTHER
The naughty little boy will have to have a grown up’s punishment. Understand, Sidney?

SID
Please, Mother. I don’t understand.

MOTHER
You will, Sidney. It’s too teach you. I can’t stay mad at you though. I love you. A Mother’s love. Unconditional. Precious. This is just a lesson, Sidney. A lesson all little boys have to learn…

Mother’s voice trails off, until the world becomes a DEAD SILENCE. 

Sid’s eyes flutter shut as he begins to asphyxiate. Mother smiles, a creepy sense of adoration in her expression. 

The night is soon replaced by piles of dirt.

SID 
(voice over)
Well, this happens to be one of those times when I took a look at my life… and it sucks.
But in having time to think, I’ll accept Mother’s decision. Maybe she knows best, maybe not.

Mother throws on the last pile of dirt, COVERING THE SCREEN.

CUT BACK TO:

25.

EXT. GARDEN - NIGHT

Mother flattens out the mound with the shovel. Delicately, She picks Angel up and they go inside. The light from the kitchen goes out. 

And if each person can leave behind some message of value, I’d say this: we do things in too much of a hurry but sometimes not quick enough. And in too much of a daze, never really thinking about how each moment contributes to the bigger picture. And sometimes, well, it really doesn’t matter because we can just go back over and bury our mistakes.

The CAMERA LINGERS for an uncomfortable moment on Sid’s grave before a CUT TO BLACK.

THE END.