Down a Dark Path 02

doiwn a dark path2

DOWN A DARK PATH 

©Zig Bingham

A Work in Progress.  First Draft Released as Written Every Wednesday.

Part Two

(Read from the Beginning)

 

EXT. THE WAREHOUSE PARTY – NIGHT

WE HEAR a not so distant rumble of party.

Then…

WE FADE IN to feet and then to people milling along a track to and fro, but mostly to.
Some look like they’re just arriving, other like they’ve been partying for days.

We follow a scooter boy darting down the track as he weaves in and out of the crowd.

He skids to a halt at two large gates and a couple of heavy looking security guys working the party’s entrance.

One stares back at the kid who’s barely fourteen. The Scooter Kid starts to argue with the security men trying to wind them up, but the kid ain’t getting anywhere.

Behind the guards and the fence two young lads in their early twenties edge around the fence trying to find a place to sneak in.

They edge on forward into the shadows and as we move in to see one of them start to snip the wire fence just enough to create a hole big enough for the other to duck under.

The first under is Tommy. Then Gillan holds up the fence and hurries his mate.

GILLAN
(Irish accent)
Move! Hurry up.

TOMMY
I don’t know about this.

GILLAN
Tommy, You got enough for the entrance fee?

TOMMY
No.

GILLAN
Then shut the fuck up and get a move on.

Tommy slithers under but catches his jacket on the fence.

TOMMY
Hang on… I’m caught.

Gillan sees that their efforts have attracted the attention of the scooter kid.

GILLAN
Move it.. now! We’ve been spotted!

TOMMY
But…

Gillan kicks his friend through and Tommy’s jacket rips.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Jesus! Gillan!

Gillan is already down and pushing through the fence.

GILLAN
Get the fence!

Tommy’s still looking at his jacket.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Fuck the jacket!

The scooter kid is pointing to the duo almost through the fence. The security guard won’t look behind him but the kid is being persistent.

Tommy Pulls the fence up and Gillan Scrambles through and is barely through when both start to leg it toward the party.

The security guard turns around just in time to see the two lads dash off into the stream of revellers.

He starts to make chase then see’s a bunch more kids trying to get through the new access point and makes the decision change tack and stop the flow of bodies crashing the party.

Tommy and Gillan dive deeper into the crowd and when they feel they are safe they slow down and catch their breathe.

They both grin.

It’s going to be a great night.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Yes Mate!

TOMMY
That was fucking close. Look at my fucking jacket.

The hole is ridiculous and the pocket is ripped open.

GILLAN
Fuck! looks fucked mate.

TOMMY
Thank you.

GILLAN
No I mean it.

TOMMY
Thank you.

GILLAN
You’re welcome.

TOMMY
I’ll get me ma to fix it.

Tommy takes one last look at it.

Gillan pulls out a plastic coke bottle and hands it to his mate whilst fiddling in his own pocket.

GILLAN
Fuck it!

Tommy takes a deep gulp. It’s clearly not just coke in the bottle.

TOMMY
Fuck it!

Gillan takes the bottle back. Tommy stops and searches himself.

He’s forgotten something.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Fuck! Gillan, I think I dropped the drugs. Fuck!

GILLAN
What?

TOMMY
Shit! by the fence. They were in this pocket. Fuck!

Gillan looks mad for a moment then smiles.

GILLAN
Will you relax your batty?

Gillan’s patois mixes well with his Irish accent.

He shows Tommy the inside of his own pocket. The drugs are safe inside.

Tommy’s look of relief is priceless.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Will you fucking relax? We’re here, we’re in and obviously in very good company.

A drugged fucked 40 year woman stumbles past helped by her equally messed up girlfriend.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Except for those two. Clearly peaked waaay to early.

He grabs his best friend and swings an arm over Tommy’s neck.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Listen Tommy, forget about the job. Forget about the flat. Forget about the girl. We are having a night off.

Tommy takes a swig of the rum and coke then hands it over to Gillan.

TOMMY
Here, here. Onward my good man.

GILLAN
You, are so gay.

TOMMY
And you would know.

GILLAN
Hey it takes a real man to suck another man’s cock.

A tall man in a suit nearly knock into them and gives them a royal dirty look.

TOMMY
What?

The Suit stares back with dead eyes but keeps on walking.

Gillan gives Tommy a look.

TOMMY (CONT’D)
What? too far? did I cross a line?

The two laugh.

GILLAN
Yeah! shut your cake hole. Fag hater.

TOMMY
Are you seriously going to go through with this?

GILLAN
What?

Tommy looks at Gillan – You know what.

GILLAN (CONT’D)
I am telling you. Woman love a challenge. Listen to me. I play just the right side of gay and I will get laid.

TOMMY
Yeah by an Iranian lumberjack.

GILLAN
Michelle.

TOMMY
Ain’t going to happen.

GILLAN
Tommy, it’s happening.

TOMMY
Not a chance.

GILLAN
Look at Prince.

Tommy – What?

GILLAN (CONT’D)
Prince. Gayest straight man on the planet. Got pussy like no one else. God rest his soul. Women love that deep sensitive thing. And Michelle loves Prince.

TOMMY (SINGING)
Cream, get on top…cream… don’t you stop…

He dances like a man who’s been butt fucked by Will Smith but continues to sing.

Gillan’s not amused.

But then…

TOMMY (CONT’D)
Hang on, hang on.

The two stop at Tommy’s insistence.

GILLAN
What?

TOMMY
Gillan, If you’re catholic and being gay is a sin, where does that put pretending to be gay to trick a girl into sleeping with you?

GILLAN
Waaay below hard chemicals and staying up too late! Now Tommy,will ya give me the rum and can we go and have a look-see?

Tommy obliges and the two make their way deeper into the party.

 

INT. THE WAREHOUSE PARTY – CONTINUOUS

Tommy and Gillan enter the party proper and we follow them as they look around and get a lay of the land.

A wide eyed raver comes out of the party and hugs Gillan and the two start talking or shouting at each other, neither quite understanding the other.

The two try again and again but still they can’t understand each other.

Gillan tries one last time and the raver just shrugs his shoulders and dances back into the party leaving Gillan and Tommy grinning.

It’s going to be a good night.

The crumbling old sorting depot has been transformed.

Party lights and black lights shine through iridescent plastic sheets spray painted in bright flouro daubs, twisting in the cool breeze.

All sorts have come here.

The ravers, the dreadlocked trustifarians, the boy racers, the blockheads, the chavs, the rude boys, rude girls, wild stylees rocking the 80’s gear rubbing shoulders with the emo kids too cool to show they’re having a good time.

White, black old and young, this is a mixing of cultures and styles that knows no prejudice. It only know how to have a good time.

A party to end all party. The last of the raves.

Piles of rubble have been pushed aside to create an arena for the hedonists dancing like banshees to insane tunes booming from towering speakers. A literal wall of sound.

In front of the speaker stack a bunch of similarly aged youth, a mix of boys and girl look up and see our heroes approach and in unison hold up their arms in genuine joy.

The gang’s all here.

All but her.

Tommy looks for her, but she isn’t there.

It’s early, so he shrugs it off.

It going to be a great night.

Tommy and Gillan head to their friends dancing like crazy chimpanzees.

And their friends reciprocate.

 

Read On…

 

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