Rat-Race

Hey there, crime kids. It's time once again to take a trip to the dark side, where your most violent fantasies become sins of the flesh, right here, where the hardboiled action is non-stop, at the coolest crime joint in cyberspace ... at That Killing Feeling.

After many years of writing crime stories, I recently started trying my hand at horror films, the first of which, ZOMBIE & JULIET, is about to be made into a major motion picture. The most recent story, however, is FRANKENSTEIN IN LOVE, which I'm proud to present in all it's twisted glory.

In Chapter 1, we meet science genius nerd Frankie Stein, who is right now conducting a rather ghastly experiment in his basement lab with a dead rat ...


INT. SUBURBAN HOME - BASEMENT - NIGHT
Some cheesy 80’s hair metal ballad
plays on an I-pod stereo.

'If I Close My Eyes Forever,' indeed.

Your classic wood-panelled rec room.
Now a science lab STUFFED with a maze of equipment.

Seated at a workbench is FRANKIE STYNE (16).
‘Nerd’ would be compliment.

Think Michael Cera
divided by Jessie Eisenberg.

He looks at a dead RAT
lying on the table, recent roadkill.

Munches on Cheetos. Thinking.
He finishes the bag.

Crumples it up in a ball and TOSSES it.
Wipes his hands on his jeans.

Leans over, starts attaching
a series of electrical cables
connected to suction cups
on the rat’s head, chest, arms and legs.

Nods. Turns to a laptop.
Starts PUNCHING in data.

THE MONITOR
Shows a series of graphs that read
HEART, LUNG and BRAIN.

Each reads 'zero percent' below them.

FRANKIE
Smiles grimly.

FRANKIE
Rat-tastic.

He picks up a syringe.
SQUIRTS it. Looks at the rat --

FRANKIE
You’re going to feel a small pinch.

And INJECTS it.

Frankie then turns to a TRANSFORMER
that the cables are attached to.

He starts flipping a series of switches.
We hear a HUMMING sound.

A NEEDLE
On the transformer
starts moving from left to right.

It approaches the red zone --

FRANKIE
Nods. FLIPS DOWN a metal bar, and --

THE RAT
Gets ZAPPED with electricity. BUZZZ.

THE GRAPHS
All JUMP to ONE HUNDRED PERCENT.

THE RAT
BOLTS UP in the air.
LEAPS onto Frankie and BITES his arm.

FRANKIE
SHIT --

He GRABS a coffee mug off the table
and WHACKS him in the head with it.

The rat goes FLYING into the air
and lands on the floor.

Starts SCURRYING around,
SMASHING into stuff.

FRANKIE
(looks at his arm)
Kevlar. The gift that keeps protecting.

He watches the rat RACE
around the room.

Then realizes.

FRANKIE
Oh, shit --

It goes to the stairs,
starts FLYING up to the first floor.

He CHASES after it.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Total suburbia brought to you
by the color beige,
dimly lit by the light
coming from the various appliances.

The rat RACES through the kitchen,
followed by Frankie.

The rat BANGS around the room,
looking for an escape.

Frankie THROWS OPEN
the door to the back yard,
and the rodent FLIES OUT.

He SLAMS the door.
Exhales. Shakes his head.

FRANKIE
Talk about a rat-race.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)
Is everything okay, honey?

The lights FLIP ON.

Frankie’s mother JULIE (40’s)
stands there in her bathrobe.

Once a great beauty,
now a bit washed-out-looking.

But still appealing,
even fresh-scrubbed.

JULIE
I heard the door slam.
Everything okay?

FRANKIE
(nods)
I was coming in from the back yard.
The wind blew the door shut.

JULIE
What were you doing
in the backyard
so late at night?

FRANKIE
Uh -- I was --

JULIE
Never mind.
One of your experiments, right?

FRANKIE
Uh, yeah.

JULIE
Have a seat, boy genius.
I’ll fix you
a glass of warm milk.

Pause.

FRANKIE
Could I, uh -- get a beer?