Special Delivery (2020 Revision) – A short film script (10 pages)

Babylon Undead Podcast 00 - Baftas Vs Oscars 2020 Part 1 of 2 PO

If you wish to read the old version I published way back when you can click here  for the original post, which is more of stage script. I was never quite happy and with all this time off I’ve been going through my old stories and scripts and knuckling down and doing rewrite. Maybe in another few years I’ll change it again. Maybe. Anyway I hope you like the changes and you get a giggle out of this little short film script that I will as soon as the wigs arrive shoot… Or I may try animating it. hmmm. There’s an idea




               A row of unassuming semi-detached houses on a beautiful sunny
               day. Each of the houses have their own little peculiarities
               but each one is clearly produced from the same template, only
               their gardens and the ornamentation on houses differentiate

               The house we are interested in is number 7 - front garden a
               mess, hedges overgrown, pieces of broken motorcycle lying
               amongst unidentified junk.

               WE HEAR DIESEL ENGINE VAN before we see it. As the COURIER
               van pulls up tiny winged creatures fly out of the bushes -
               humans with wings instead of arms, squawking like angry

               The cheerful COURIER hops out of the van with a clipboard and
               a fairly large box, almost skipping up the path to the front
               door of number 7. He knocks on the door missing the obvious
               please ring bell sign.

               He waits a whole 5 seconds before knocking again.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Alright, alright I hear you.

               THE OLDMAN grumbles and mutters then...

               WE HEAR him slip and tumble down the stairs.

               The Courier leans into the door. Is the old man OK?

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Jesus fucking Christ!

               The door opens revealing THE OLDMAN, white beard, matching
               hair, a pair of boxer shorts and grubby looking dressing gown
               lazily not covering his tea stained singlet. He's half
               stoops, grabbing his foot and removes a fish from the bottom
               of it. When he comes back up he has a little head rush and
               shakes it off. He looks as hung-over as he feels. For a
               moment he doesn't know what to do with the fish. He looks at
               the courier, his hands are full with the large box, clipboard
               wedged into his armpit. The Old Man thinks about just
               throwing it out the front, then turns back into the house
               scratching his belly as he goes. 

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Oi! Junior! Parcel for you.

               He bangs on JUNIOR's door, slapping the fish on the door,
               which sticks for a moment before sliding down as the Old Man
               strolls to the kitchen much to the Couriers consternation

                         I'm busy! 

               The Courier can just make out the old man making himself a
               cup of coffee in the small kitchen. 

                         Um... Just need a signature...

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Stop wanking and answer the fucking

                         I'm not wanking!

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         I'm omnipotent. All seeing. 

               He turns to the courier and whispers

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)

               The kettle is already hot so it doesn't take long for it to
               boil and click off.

                         Anyone can sign...

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         And stop leaving your fish lying
                         all over the fucking place. (Then
                         to Courier) Good job I don't
                         condone abortions eh?

               A head pokes out of Junior's room looking back at the
               kitchen, first at his Old Man and then to the Courier who
               holds up the parcel hoping someone will take it sign for the
               damn thing.

                         Please can someone just sign...

               JUNIOR is the early twenties version of his father, if the
               early twenties version was a stoner hippie. The hair hasn't
               gone away or is receding as far as the Old Man's but give it
               a few years...

               Junior leaves his room, almost slipping on the fallen fish.
               He removes the fish from his foot much in the same manner as
               his old man, only inadvertently smelling it upon bringing it
               up near his nose. He throws it past the courier, into a bush
               where it is voraciously devoured by the little human bird

               The Courier inches away from the bush next to him - just in

               Junior takes the parcel from the courier reading the label
               then shouts back of the Old Man.

                         This isn't for me. It's for you.

               The Courier hands the clipboard for Junior to sign.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Who's it from?

               Once the Courier recovers his clipboard he hops down the lane
               back into his van and drives off.

               Junior is rolling the box between his hands, half shaking it,
               like a kid trying to work out what his Christmas present is.

               The Old Man strolls back from the kitchen to the front door,
               coffee in had.

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Who's it from?

                         What don't you know? Thought you
                         were omnipotent?

               The old man launches up with a cup of coffee in one hand and
               looks at the box ripping the packing slip off the top of the

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         It's a big fucking universe,

               He struggles opening the plastic envelope, eventually using
               his teeth which at first has no effect.

                         You want me to get your teeth?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Fuck off!

               The Old Man rips the plastic open, spits the shard out and
               shakes the folded packing slip out of its sheath. 

               He reads it slowly then stops.

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Put it down son. Slowly.


               Junior is still rocking it about.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         ...and stop shaking it.

               Junior looks at his dad then carefully puts the box down -
               the Old Man is not mucking around.

               The Old Man then backs up grabbing his kids arm and the two
               back away, very slowly from the box.

               It is a while before any of them speak.

                         It's another present from Kali

               The Old Man doesn't get it.

                                   JUNIOR (CONT'D)
                         Blue bird. Loads of arms? Skulls
                         around the neck? Asian? Crazy look
                         in her eye?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         I know who Kali is, What I don't
                         know is what you're talking about.

                         This is another severed head?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         It's not from Kali.

                         How do you know?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         You see any bloody finger prints?

                         I don't know why you hooked up with
                         her in the first place.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         'Cause she's a lot of fun... Sure
                         she's a little wild but what you
                         going to do? She is the goddess of
                         destruction and rebirth.


                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Besides she's got all those arms
                         and a really long tongue... You
                         can't imagine the dirty shit she
                         gets up to...

                         You disgust me.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         She's really flexible, knows yoga.

                         Stop now.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         She can bend so far down she can
                         lick her...


               The Old Man acquiesces.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         You're such a prude.


                         Then who's it from? 

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         The Muslims.

               Junior looks at his dad ashamed.

                         You fucking racist.

                                   THE OLD MAN

                         You you think there's a bomb in
                         there don't you?

               The Old Man says nothing, merely shrugs.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Well if you're so fucking confident
                         you open it then.


                                   THE OLD MAN

                         I will then...

               Junior doesn't move.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Go on then.

               Junior still doesn't move.

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Yeah I thought so.

               Junior, chest puffed up, walks back to the box and carefully
               examining the box  - from a safe distance.

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Oh come here you pussy. Let me...

               The Old Man walks over the box and pulls out a knife, from
               where we don't know - even Junior seems impressed. He flicks
               the blade open and cuts the packing tape away from the box.

               Using the tip of the blade the Old Man opens the box very
               gingerly and peers inside.

               For a moment there is nothing save for the questioning look
               on his face.

               The Old Man folds the knife and puts it back into his pocket.
               He then plunges one hand in the box and pulls out a small
               pink rubbery item that looks for all the world like an ear
               lobe or a piece of pork scratching before it's been properly
               cooked in the oven.

               Nonchalantly the Old Man passes it back to his son who rolls
               it around his fingers not sure what to make of it.

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         Jesus Christ it must be thousands
                         of these and they're all different

               He passes another back to Junior. This one the colour of a
               dark African skin.

                         They look like pork scratchings...

               As soon as the words have escaped his mouth a thought occurs
               to him. 

               He drops the rubbery thing.

                                   JUNIOR (CONT'D)
                         Oh my god that's disgusting.

               The Old Man is still rummaging.

                                   JUNIOR (CONT'D)
                         They're foreskins.

               The Old Man gets up in a shot wiping his hand on his dressing

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Oh... that is disgusting.

               With the tip of his toe the Old Man pushes the box out of the
               front door back onto the step.

                         What did you do?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         What do you mean "what did I do?"

                         I mean, what did you do? You've got

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         What are you talking about?

                         You get a little drunk and you
                         start calling people up in the
                         middle of the night making

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Fuck off!

               Junior lifts his hand up as if he's making a phone call.

                         Hi Abraham? Yeah it me God. Yeah,
                         yeah, yeah. I know it's a little
                         early. Just fancied a chat. Three
                         AM you say? Yeah that is fucking

               The Old Man's face is telling the kid the fuck off.

                                   JUNIOR (CONT'D)
                         Yeah love you too... How much? I
                         mean... If I asked you to kill your
                         son would you do it? 

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Jesus I get a little emotional and
                         everyone takes everything out of

                         You know you say you love me but
                         the only time you speak with me is
                         if your crops are doing badly or
                         your misses won't go down on you...

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Alright enough.

                         ... I've got feelings too you know.
                         Why don't we meet at the top of the
                         mountain? Yeah right now... bring
                         Isaac. What do you mean he's got
                         school in the morning? He's home

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         I admit sometimes I get a little

                         Tell that to Moses.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Now there's a man who could

               Just then a SECOND COURIER turns up, with another parcel
               skipping like the first up to the front door.

                                   SECOND COURIER
                         Special delivery for...ffffhslalggd

               The Courier tries and tries but cannot say the name on the

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Yeah... It's for me then. 

               The Courier is still trying to say the name...

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         It's unpronounceable.

                                   SECOND COURIER
                         You don't say. That's a lot of

               The second Courier smiles at Junior.

                                   SECOND COURIER (CONT'D)
                         Alright madam.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         That's my son.

                                   SECOND COURIER
                         Oh I'm sorry. It's the cheekbones.

               The Old Man looks at the dispatch date, blowing off a cloud
               of dust as he does so.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         This was sent four hundred fucking
                         years ago.

                                   SECOND COURIER
                         Ah... sometimes these things get a
                         little mixed up in the sorting

               The Old Man just shakes his head as the second courier skips
               off to his next delivery. The box is identical to the first
               only a little more dusty.

                         Who's that one from?

               The Old Man reads the packing slip and slaps his forehead.

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         The Jews.

               He opens the box and...

                         More foreskins?

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         More foreskins.

               For a while neither say anything more.

                         Should we send them back?

               The Old Man thinks about it...

               almost agreeing.


                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Hang on a minute I've got an idea.

                                                               CUT TO:

               EXT. THE PUB - LATER

               The Old Man and Junior stroll from the pub in bad disguises.
               The Old Man has a wad of notes in his hand and he's counting

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         That, my son was the brilliant idea
                         you had.

               Junior is puzzled - it wasn't his idea.

                         Shall we tell the Muslims and Jews
                         to stop chopping off bit's of baby

               Behind them the barman puts the boxes of pork scratchings up
               behind the bar. The labels on the boxes look like they were
               scribbled by a kid - which they were. His Assistant is bust
               scribbling "NEW IN - ORGANIC PORK SCRATCHINGS £1.50"

                                   THE OLD MAN
                         Yeah yeah yeah but let's first go
                         to the pub and have a couple of
                         sneaky pints. I'll call them in the
                         morning. Promise.

               Junior just stares incredulously at his Old Man - Oh Really?

                                   THE OLD MAN (CONT'D)
                         I swear. Set your alarm though,
                         Just in case. Not too early.

                                                             FADE OUT.

                                         THE END

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