Felicide

EXT. TAO GARDENS CHINESE (CITY SHOPS) – NIGHT
A flickering neon sign in the window of an unkempt
storefront illuminates an otherwise dark street, accenting
a bad neighborhood.
A homeless man SHUFFLES across the scene, pushing an old
shopping cart full of tin cans and other bits of metal. As
he passes, he pushes his cart a little closer to the
street, opposite the restaurant.
Through the filthy glass, CHAZ, thirties, can be seen. He
is SLOPPING dirty water across the floor with an old mop, a
sinister look in his eye.
INT. STOREFRONT - NIGHT
A grimy countertop spans the width of the space; ripped
wallpaper and old decorations show the intensity of
disrepair into which the place has fallen. A stack of
fireworks covers one entire wall.
KITCHEN
CHAZ
I don’t know why we even bother; this
place always looks like crap.
DRIPPING with old, oily remains, the kitchen is cast in an
ominous, fluorescent glow. The ceiling is black and caked
with smoke damage.
The FRY COOK, forties, on the other side of the counter
does not acknowledge Chaz’s grumbling.
FRY COOK
That’s right, that’s what you get you
dirty animal.
The fry cook, a sick, sexual look on his face dunks a metal
basket full of prepped meat chunks into the deep fryer. It
SIZZLES acceptingly.
From the direction of the STOREFRONT, FREDERICO, twenties
and grungy, runs through the KITCHEN to the PREP ROOM,
carrying a squirming sack, looking ecstatic.
INT. BACK OF RESTAURANT – PREP ROOM – NIGHT
Slimy, plastic flaps guard the doorway to the murder scene.
Shiny, metal, prep station tables sit covered with strewn
food particles and animal scraps.
Frederico SLAMS the bag down on the prep table and a loud
SCREACH emanates from within it. Then it lies still. He
removes the contents and, gloveless, begins to skin the
dead animal.
The BOSS of the operation, fifties, wearing a nice suit and
a satisfied smirk, sits at a table amongst several of his
EMPLOYEES, one named MARCO, in his late twenties.
MARCO
So, where do you find a one legged
dog?
SANDEEP
Here he goes again...
MARCO
Wherever you left it!
Marco is the only one who laughs as he buckles over and
SLAPS his knee.
ABE
Hey Marco, do you wanna lose ten
pounds of ugly fat? Cut off your
head!
BOSS
Shut up idiots, this is a business,
not the laugh shack.
MARCO
A horse walks into a bar and the
bartender says, hey buddy why the
long face?
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Boss completely ignores him and continues.
BOSS
Despite your incompetence, profits
are higher than they have been all
year.
SANDEEP
Profits come easy when the product
costs nothing.
ABE jabs SANDEEP in the arm at this, and points his head
towards Boss’ ominous stare, pointed in the man’s
direction.
BOSS
I am sure you have all noticed that
our meat source has been in short
supply as of late.
ABE
The strays are getting wise to us, I
say.
MARCO
No, its just because we have the best
Chinese food in town. People can’t
stop eating our high quality product.
BOSS
If you degenerates value your job,
you will increase your efforts in
shutting your mouths, and bringing in
more meat.
With this the boss raises himself from his chair and exits
the room, into his office, in silence. He glared
threateningly at his employees until his face was no longer
visible. The rest of the room’s inhabitants continue to
talk and attempt to tell jokes.
EXT. ALLEY – NIGHT
One crooked, yellow light casts sharp shadows on a dingy
cardboard box.
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The sound of kittens and the PURR of a mother cat emanates
from the box as the back half of a mangy, orange cat
settles in, his bent tail protruding from its entrance.
Marco exits the backdoor of the restaurant carrying a large
bag of trash. His eyes fall on an orange tail with an odd
bend in it.
MARCO
What have we here? Orange one’s kinda
scrawny, but that momma’s good eats!
He leaves the trash and returns quickly with a large empty
bag. He approaches the box cautiously, now seeing the
entire family.
MARCO
Ha ha! Looks like I’ll be the one
getting that raise. Even these little
fill a few orders of dumplings.
The box RATTLES and begins to tear as the cats put up a
struggle, wounding Marco, a chunk taken from his left arm,
but the bag eventually closes on them all.
INT. PREP ROOM - NIGHT
The scene hasn’t changed but for the Boss’ absence. A
mixture of tense silence, broken only by momentary bursts
of nervous LAUGHTER, permeates through the space, the
EMPLOYEES engaged in an intense game of poker.
Marco SLAMS the bag against the wall, and throws it in the
freezer.
MARCO
Sucks to be you boys! Just picked up
a whole litter.
Frederico SLAMS a bad hand on the table, conceiting to the
defeat of his patience. He glances at Marco as he walks
past.
FREDERICO
And with only minor injuries.
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MARCO
I’m outtie! See you schleps tomorrow!
Marco exits through the back door.
INT. TAO GARDENS CHINESE - THE NEXT DAY
A foreboding silence is present all through the store. The
lights are already on at opening.
Marco rubs his eyes and YAWNS as he re-enters through the
back door and SHUFFLES through the store. He does not
notice anything strange.
Marco approaches and opens the freezer with his left arm,
WINCING slightly.
He SCREAMS at the site of his Boss, covered in scratches,
and he stares, immobile, into bloody, empty eye sockets.
MARCO
What the...? How in the...? AAAAAAAA!
STUMBLING over other employees now revealed to be
haphazardly lying all about the floor, he heads towards the
front of the store.
One by one, each of his friends are stricken with the same
deformities.
He trips over the fry cook, and his hand lands on the
handle of the metal basket sitting in the fryer, still
running and hot. It comes flying out, hot oil SPLASHES over
the floor.
He badly burns his face and upper body.
He reaches the phone in a panic and dials the police. An
OPERATOR answers.
OPERATOR (V.O.)
911. What is the state of your
emergency?
MARCO
5
Uh, I don’t know what happened! I
need heAAAAA-
The furry silhouette of a creature lunges from the darkness
and attacks Marco from behind.
INT. STOREFRONT – EVENING –
From the inside looking out, the lights of a patrol car can
be seen through the dirty, glass windowed storefront.
An OFFICER enters cautiously, seeing first Chaz, still
clutching his mop, now part of the carnage decorating the
floor.
She stops dead and stares at a half-fried, orange cat, its
head cocked at an impossible angle, sitting on the counter
cleaning itself.
Wide-eyed and crazed, the officer unloads her weapon at the
creature.
The bullets pass right through and ignite the fireworks
along the wall, and the restaurant is destroyed.
FADE OUT: THE END
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