Simon Says – Sick Day



The room is furnished with couches and chairs that don’t match, and the walls are painted a sickly green. Wooden masks hang along the back wall, and a wooden man with a spear stands in the corner.

EMILIO is lying across a couch staring at the TV. He lifts a piece of toast to his mouth. Nibbling the corner, crumbs fall down his shirt. Emilio lowers the toast and looks up to the ceiling.

The SOUND of the front door opening interrupts him. He glances towards the hallway as he hears thuds in the doorway. SHAUNA enters followed by TOM and ROB.

SHAUNA: What’s this rumour that you’re sick?

Emilio looks at them then turns away and shrugs.

EMILIO: I’m sick.

Shauna pushes papers on the coffee table to the side and sits down.

SHAUNA: You don’t get sick. You can’t get sick.

Emilio sighs and turns to look at her. He glances over to Tom and Rob.

EMILIO: You guys going to stand there like idiots?

Tom and Rob glance at each other then move to a couch and sit down. Emilio shakes his head then turns back to Shauna.

EMILIO (CONT’D): It’s a simple plan. Even Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum over there could figure it out.

Tom jumps to his feet, but Rob grabs his arm. Tom looks down at him as Rob shakes his head. Tom lowers himself back to the couch.

TOM: You’re lucky my good sense saved you.

Emilio rolls his eyes.

SHAUNA: I don’t care how simple the instructions are. I don’t like having you bail in the homestretch.

Emilio sits up, grimacing at her.

EMILIO: You want me to throw up all over your take? I think you can manage a single job without me.

Shauna glances back to Tom and Rob. They shrug. Shauna exhales and turns back to Emilio.

SHAUNA: You’re that sick?

Emilio covers his mouth as he lets out a dramatic cough.

EMILIO: So ill.

Shauna places her hand on her head and massages her temple.

SHAUNA: I want half your take.

Emilio laughs, but it turns into a cough. Shauna remains straight-faced.

EMILIO: You serious?

Shauna nods.

EMILIO (CONT’D): Fifteen percent.

SHAUNA: Forty.

EMILIO: I can’t go any higher than twenty five.

SHAUNA: Thirty.

Emilio crosses his arms.

EMILIO: Maybe I should go and throw up all over your take.

SHAUNA: Thirty percent of your take, and you can get all the beauty sleep your little face requires.

Tom and Rob snicker. Emilio shoots them a look. Their expressions go blank.
EMILIO: Fine, but if anything goes wrong, it’s out of your take.

Shauna stands.

SHAUNA: Nothing will go wrong. It’s a simple plan.

Shauna walks towards the exit, gesturing for Tom and Rob to follow. They stand, and Emilio watches as they all leave. Once he hears the door shut, he picks up his phone and makes a phone call.

EMILIO: I think I just heard someone planning a robbery.



Simon Says – The Party Is Here



An office building stands taller than the rest of the buildings on the block. It’s wall of glass shines in the sunlight as taxis pass by below.

NATE steps out of the front door, carrying a box of miscellaneous items. He is in his mid thirties, clean shaven and well kept. He is clothed in a suit, but his tie hangs loose around his neck. Glancing back at the building for a second, he turns and walks down the steps to the street.

Once he reaches the bottom of the steps, he raises his hand to hail a taxi, but the box begins to fall from his arm. Doubling over, he tries to regain it. A taxi stops at the curb. Nate gets his grip on the box. The taxi begins to pull away, but Nate rushes over and pulls the door open.


The door swings open, and Nate glances inside. The apartment is dim with strobe lights flashing various primary colours. Paintings break the empty expanses of walls.

GEORGE is holding the door open. He’s in his late twenties and wears expensive clothes. He clears his throat.

GEORGE: You coming in?

Nate notice the droves of PEOPLE bustling around the apartment, drinks in hand.

NATE: I think so.

Nate steps closer, but George puts his hand out, stopping him.

GEORGE: Who’d you get the invite from?

Nate stares at George. He shakes his head.

NATE: I don’t remember anymore.

George shrugs.

GEORGE: Hey, what the hell. Don’t sweat it. Welcome to my pad.

George steps back, letting Nate inside. Nate steps into the apartment, nodding to George. ALICE dances past. She stops and turns back to them.

ALICE: Nate, you made it.

Nate turns to George.

NATE: I guess we found my invite.

Alice grabs him by the arm. Nate looks to her.

ALICE: I’m so glad you’re here. I was getting tired of walking to the bar.

She drops her cup into his hand.

ALICE (CONT’D): Could you get me a gin and tonic. Thanks.

NATE: Could we talk?

Alice has already left. Nate watches after her as she bounces over towards the DJ. Nate turns to George, but he is already gone. Nate looks down at the cup in his hand.


Nate is sitting beside the bar. He lifts Alice’s cup.

NATE: Another gin and tonic.

The BARTENDER sighs as he walks over. He refills the cup and hands it back to Nate. Nate chugs back half of it when Alice taps him on the shoulder.

ALICE: Is that my drink?

Nate turns to her. He looks down into what is left of the drink and holds it out to her. Alice rolls her eyes and turns to the bartender.

ALICE (CONT’D): Gin and tonic please.

The bartender slams a cup down and begins filling it.

BARTENDER: I can make other drinks if anyone cared.

He hands Alice her drink.

ALICE: Thanks.

The bartender grumbles as he turns away. Alice turns to Nate.

ALICE (CONT’D): What’s up?

Nate leans on the bar.

NATE: Work sucks.

Alice sips her drink.

ALICE: That place is such a dump.

NATE: Sucks more that it’s gone.

Alice lowers her drink. Nate finishes his off then glances to her.

ALICE: They didn’t.

Nate nods.

ALICE (CONT’D): I just got hired there.

Nate raises his cup.

NATE: Good for them.

Nate downs the rest of his drink.

NATE (CONT’D): All the best to you.

He walks away. Alice finishes her drink and raises her hand.

ALICE: Another please.

The music changes tempo, and she spins around, bobbing along to it.


Simon Says – Visiting Family



TESSA is a woman in her mid thirties. She has short, dark hair. Her build is slim but fit, and she carries herself with confidence. As she walks over to the coffee maker, she looks back over her shoulder and flashes a grin.

Across the kitchen from her, seated at the table, MARK shakes his head. He’s in his late thirties but already has a bald spot developing. He’s slim and tall with a short beard on his slender face.

MARK: It’s not going to work.

Tessa reaches the counter and begins to pour herself a mug of coffee. Turning back to him, she continues to fill her mug.

TESSA: What? Being happy?

Smirking as she watches him, Tessa pours a little milk in her drink and stirs it.

MARK: I know that look. It’s not working today.

Tessa brings the coffee up to her lips and raises an eyebrow at him.

TESSA: How about this one?

Mark cover his eyes with his hands.

MARK: We’re not staying in today. You can’t make me.

Tessa walks over and sits on his lap.

TESSA: Maybe you’ll change your mind.

She circles a lock of his hair with her finger. After swatting her hand away, Mark wraps his head with his arms.

MARK: Nope. No. We’re visiting my family, and that’s final.

Tessa stands and sips her coffee.

TESSA: You’re such a spoilsport.

Mark grabs the paper and pulls it open. Tessa walks to the far end of the table, and sits down.

TESSA (CONT’D): I don’t know why you insist on making me go through with this. They hate me.

Mark flips the paper in half and looks at Tessa.

MARK: Don’t say that. They don’t hate anyone.

Tessa snorts.

TESSA (under her breathe): That’s not what their texts say.

Mark sets the paper down.

MARK: Excuse me?

Tessa waves her hand towards the paper.

TESSA: Is that story about the freed captives in there?

MARK: Have you been reading their texts again?

TESSA: I saved those people.

MARK: You can’t do that.

Tessa sets her coffee down.

TESSA: I read other people’s messages, and I save lives. Sue me.

MARK: Do you read my messages?

Tessa walks over and hugs him from behind.

TESSA: Only the ones you send me.

Mark turns to look her in the eyes.

MARK: Do they really say bad things about you?

Tessa nods.

TESSA: They’re pretty mean.

Mark frowns. He looks away then turns back to her.

MARK: They mention me much?

TESSA: Nothing I’d care to repeat.

Mark stares at a bird outside the window.

MARK: You were right.

Tessa tilts her head.

MARK (CONT’D): I did change my mind.

TESSA: Good. I told you I save lives.

Tessa releases Mark and picks up her coffee. She watches the bird as she takes a sip.

TESSA (CONT’D): Now we gotta figure out what we want to do first.

Mark stands and wraps his arms around her waist.

MARK: I have a few ideas.

Tessa kisses him on the cheek.

TESSA: Good. Cause I used all mine up already.


Simon Says – The Boss Needs a Hand



JOHN is sitting in a chair, bouncing his knee as he glances around. John is in his late forties. He’s average height with a bit of weight on his stomach.

He leans forward and glances down a hallway. Spotting RICKY, he snaps back to an upright position. Ricky enters and tips his head back. Rising to his feet, John shuffles towards him.

Ricky holds up a hand, and John stops. Ricky pats him down then jabs his thumb down the hallway. After glancing from Ricky to the hall, John makes his way down the passage. Ricky falls in behind him.

They reach a door at the end of the hallway. John looks back to Ricky. Ricky nods, and John pushes the door open.


John enters and stops in the doorway, looking around the office. It is well furnished with mahogany. Ricky shoves him from behind. Stumbling forward, John sees ENRIQUE.

Enrique is a short man with a thin build. He’s in his early sixties and has gone bald on the top of his head. John laughs.

ENRIQUE: Is there something here you find amusing?

John shakes his head.

JOHN: When I received the threats to my store, I expected something a little more…
(beat): Well, threatening.

Ricky grabs John’s arm and twists it behind his back. John cries out.

RICKY: You show respect and speak when you’re spoken to.

Both John and Ricky look to Enrique. Enrique waves Ricky off while checking the nails on his other hand.

ENRIQUE: He was spoken to.

Ricky releases John and nods to Enrique.

RICKY: My apologies.

Enrique waves him away.

ENRIQUE: You may go.

Ricky nods again, but before he leaves, he gives John one more look over. John watches Ricky leave then turns back to Enrique.

ENRIQUE (CONT’D): You’ll have to pardon Ricky’s enthusiasm. He’s like an untrained pet.

Enrique stands and walks over to a side table. John watches as he pours himself a glass of cough syrup. Taking a sip, Enrique turns to John and holds up the bottle. John shakes his head. Shrugging, Enrique downs his glass.

ENRIQUE (CONT’D): Where were we?

JOHN: You were going to tell me why I should feel threatened.

Enrique nods as he walks over to the window.

ENRIQUE: Ah, yes.

He spreads the blinds with his fingers and peeks outside.

ENRIQUE (CONT’D): What if I told you I know two hundred seventy six…

Enrique looks at the ceiling and begins to count on his fingers. He glances back to John.

ENRIQUE (CONT’D): Seven. Two hundred seventy seven ways to kill a man with a single, empty hand.

John grins.

JOHN: I’d say you brought a hand to a knife fight.

John pulls a knife from inside the front of his pants. Enrique snaps his fingers, and Ricky shoves the door in. Ricky brings his arms up under John’s arms and grabs his head between his hands.

John tries to bring the knife down, but Ricky’s arms block him. Ricky twists John’s head.


John falls limp, and Ricky lets his body fall to the floor. Enrique shakes his head before turning away.

ENRIQUE: Clean up the mess.

Ricky nods as Enrique snaps his fingers.


Simon Says – Home



NATE is in his late teens. He has a slim build, and he wears clothing two sizes too big. His hair is spiked, and the tips are frosted. Lying on his back, he stares up at the ceiling. His bed is six inches to his left, but Nate remains on the floor.

His eyes are closed, and he winces as an angry voice pushes its way through his floor. Nate rolls over onto his side, burying his face in his hands. The voice stops. Nate glances over to his door.

Climbing to his feet, Nate walks over to his desk. He picks up a baseball and tosses it into the air. He misses the catch when the yelling resumes. Nate watches the door as he stoops over and picks up the ball.

Something breaks downstairs. Nate throws the baseball at the far wall. It plants itself above his bed. A dozen baseball sized holes cover the wall.

The yelling stops. Nate listens as LUCAS stomps up the stairs. The footsteps stop, and Nate walks over to his window.

LUCAS (O.S.): You’d better stop putting holes in my fucking wall!

Nate climbs out the window then pokes his head back inside.

NATE: Sorry. It slipped again.

LUCAS (O.S.): Slipped my ass, you fucking butterfingered klutz.


Nate walks over to the edge of the roof and climbs down lattice work. He drops down in the garden. Stepping out, he dusts his feet off. He ducks the window and tiptoes up the front steps.

He presses up against the door and listens. The yelling has resumed, so Nate bangs on the door.

NATE: (in a deep voice) I’m going to file a noise complaint if you don’t cut it out.

The noise dies down. Nate grins and ducks down. He’s in front of the porch when he hears the door swing open. Nate stays down while he glances over his shoulder.

Lucas is standing in the doorway. He’s in his mid forties with a muscular build. His hair is shaved at the sides, and tatoos run down his arms.

LUCAS: You think you’re clever. Don’t ya?

Nate glances to the lattice then down the street. He shuts his eyes and straightens up. Opening them again, he turns to Lucas.

NATE: Well you did tell me to smarten up.

Nate jumps back when Lucas takes a step towards him. Nate steps on a thistle and jumps up, grabbing his foot. Lucas grins.

LUCAS: Maybe that’ll teach you to be a smart ass.

Nate drops his foot and tries to stand as tall as he can.

NATE: Leave my mom alone.

Lucas steps down off the stairs.

LUCAS: Or what?

Lucas steps up to Nate. His shoulders are at Nate’s eye level, and he pushes his chest up against Nate’s chin. Nate tries to straighten his posture, but he ends up stepping back an inch.

LUCAS (CONT’D): Lose the wind from your sails, punk?

Nate falls back. He hits his head off the ground and is winded for a beat. He recovers, but Lucas has him by the shirt.

LUCAS (CONT’D): This is for your own good, ya little bitch.

Lucas raises his other hand.

KAREN: Stop!

Lucas looks over his shoulder. KAREN is standing on the porch with a pistol trained on Lucas’ chest. Lucas grabs at his empty pocket then glances down at it. When he looks back up at Karen, he forces a smile.

LUCAS: Karen, don’t do something rash.

He raises his hands, dropping Nate. Nate scrambles to his feet, looking from Lucas to Karen.

KAREN: This is for his good, bitch.

BANG! BANG! Lucas grabs at his stomach. He looks up at Karen as he drops to his knees.

BANG! He falls to the ground. Karen drops the gun. It clatters down the stairs. Karen leans against a post, and Nate rushes up to her.

He hugs her, but Karen pushes him away as sirens sound in the distance.  Nate looks at her.  She points down the street.

KAREN: Go!  Just leave.

Nate runs down the street.  He glances back and sees Karen as she sits down on the steps

Nate turns back to the street and keeps running.


Simon Says – Plot



The windows are dirty and barely let any light inside. The warehouse floor is lined with giant shelves, and wooden crates are piled to the ceiling. A passage runs between the shelves, leading to the back. Against the back wall, a row of forklifts sit at the ready. FOUR MEN stand in a circle before the forklifts.

BENSON shifts from one foot to the other. He is a large man, and his sleeves are cut off, revealing hairy arms and a tattoo of a serpent wrapped around a dagger. He crosses his arms.

BENSON: We go through this every time. I tell ya it’s gotta be done, and you guys hum and haw over how we do it without being caught.

He looks around.

BENSON (CONT’D): We ain’t never been found out before. We ain’t gonna be found out this time.

STEPHAN has his head bowed. He has a light build. He’s wearing a hood over his head, but his red hair protrudes out above his forehead. He shakes his head.

STEPHAN: It’s different this time.

He lifts his head.

STEPHAN (CONT’D): He knows how we work. I’m telling you we can’t pull this one off.

GREG begins to laugh, and the grin on his face stretches the scar across his left cheek. He removes his glasses and polishes the small, round lenses.

GREG: You think what we do is a big secret? Everybody knows what we do. They just keep their mouths shut because they don’t want to ruin the fun.

BENSON: Exactly. We just need ta do it and stop all this here standing around.

CHARLIE: Well it is a good day for that.

CHARLIE is older than the rest of the men. He has a slight hunch and shakes a little as he stands there. The other men look at him.

BENSON: What? Have ya actually lost it this time?

Charlie steps closer to Benson and clips his heels together in a short jig.

CHARLIE: See. Me joints are feeling good today.

Benson shakes his head. Greg returns his glasses to his face.

GREG: Returning to the business at hand, I say we do it here. Why go out of our way?

STEPHAN: That’s too risky. We can’t pull it off.

Greg turns to him. TOM steps out of a break room to the left. He lifts his hand.

TOM: I figured you guys would still be jabbering away, so I took the liberty of going on without you.

Greg glances over.

GREG: You better have done it right.

STEPHAN: Yeah, I don’t need anymore heat.

TOM: Why don’t you have a look for yourself?

He gesture towards the break room.

STEPHAN: In there? That’s the worst place.

Charlie places a hand on Stephan’s shoulder.

CHARLIE: Classic. I like it.


The men step inside the break room and glance around. Streamers run along the ceiling, and balloons hover from the tables. A banner hangs across the far wall: “Happy Retirement”.

TOM: Another job well done party committee.

CHARLIE: Thank you all. I knew you’d pull it off.

STEPHAN: I figured you’d like it.

Benson and Greg shake their heads. Tom puts a party hat on Charlie’s head.

TOM: You deserve it, buddy.


Simon Says – The Good Old Days



BLAINE MATTHEWS is a man in his late seventies. He’s in good shape for his age. Curling a set of dumbbells, he’s seated in a plain aluminum chair. As he works out, He glances over at a picture sitting on his dresser.

The picture shows him standing beside his WIFE as she is about to cut a ribbon. The ribbon stretches in front of a lawyer’s office. Blaine looks away as a tear comes to his eye.

Blaine sets the weights down and begins to stand. He wobbles on his feet. Starting to fall, he grabs a cane from against the wall and steadies himself. He leans on his cane for a beat, catching his breath.

Once he has regained himself, he pulls a housecoat on and slips a pair of slippers onto his feet. He opens the door and glances back into his room. The sparsely furnished space is kept clean and tidy.

Blaine exits the room and walks down a hall towards a common area. As he approaches, MALORY waves at him. Blaine smiles, but Malory trips on a tear in the carpet.

Blaine rushes to reach her, but her arm stretches out. She places her hand on his shoulder. Her other arm stretches, and she uses it to stabilize herself. She looks at Blaine.

MALORY: Don’t worry about me, young man. I’ve still got a stretch to go before I’m finished.

She laughs as she passes him. Blaine shakes his head and continues on his way. He enters the common area and looks around.

ANDREW and VALERIE are napping in their chairs. HAROLD and AGNES are playing checkers. ERNEST is reclining in front of the TV. Blaine spots FRAN sitting, reading a newspaper on her lap, and knitting a scarf.

Blaine walks over to her and watches as she scans the paper. Her eyes reach the bottom of the page. She lifts her knitting higher, and a breeze blows by and flips the page on her paper. She resumes her reading.

BLAINE: Is this seat taken?

Fran glances over to the unoccupied chair beside her.

FRAN: Looks empty to me.

Blaine sits down and exhales.

FRAN (CONT’D): Winded from your walk?

BLAINE: It’s no funnier the seven hundredth time.

Fran smiles.

FRAN: Relax, you old wind bag. Let’s shoot the breeze.

Blaine shakes his head. He watches as Ernest blinks and the channel changes.

ERNEST: I was watching that, stupid.

He blinks again, and the channel changes back.

ERNEST (CONT’D): That’s more like it.

Blaine shivers as a breeze cuts through him. He shoots Fran a look as her page flips.

BLAINE: Do you mind?

FRAN: Don’t be such a gas.

She snickers.

Agnes turns away from the checker board to take a sip of water. Ernest closes his eyes and places his index fingers on his temples. The checker pieces begin to shake and lift from the board, but when he opens his eyes, he sees the pieces are held in place by vines. Glancing up, he sees Agnes’ disapproving frown. He smiles sheepishly.

Blaine leans back and stares at the ceiling.

BLAINE: Why are we reduced to this?

Fran keeps reading.

FRAN: A pleasant morning indoors?

Blaine closes his eyes.

BLAINE: Wasted potential and terrible humour.

FRAN: I make myself laugh. I like it.

An alarm bell sounds out. Blaine jumps to his feet. As he opens his eyes, he notices everyone in the room is in superhero costumes. He grins and pulls open his housecoat.

Fran laughs. Blaine glances down at his bare chest and whips his housecoat closed.

BLAINE: Damn it.

The heros rush off, and Blaine is left standing there. He spots Fran’s knitting, grabs it, and wraps the scarf around his face. He sprints after them as quickly as his cane will allow him.


Simon Says – Life Hacks



The curtains are drawn, and the room is cloaked in darkness. The bed is in disarray. The only thing organized in the room is a desk with a computer on top.

In the glow of the monitor, ADAM is seated. He is in his mid teens. A scrawny guy, Adam bends over the keyboard, typing furiously.

A knock sounds at the door. Adam spins around in his chair.

ADAM (yells): I’m up, mom. Jeez!

He looks at his computer monitor. The door creaks open a crack. SUSAN peeks inside. Adam glances over his shoulder.

ADAM (CONT’D): Oh, it’s you.

He starts typing again. Susan walks over to Adam’s bed and clears the corner. She lowers herself onto the very edge of the bed.

SUSAN: So what’s the plan for today?

ADAM: Honing my hacking skills.

Susan checks her phone.

SUSAN: And this isn’t just another useless skill because?

Adam releases his keyboard and turns to look at her. Looking up from her phone, Susan meets his gaze.

ADAM: Because reasons.

Susan rolls her eyes.

SUSAN: And you wonder why you’re failing English.

Adam resumes his attack on his keyboard.

ADAM: It’s a stupid subject. I speak English. I talk good. Why am I forced to waste my time on some meaningless drivel?

Susan walks over to his desk and stops beside him.

SUSAN: And hacking is your fallback for when you find out colleges don’t accept people with grades like your’s?

ADAM: You may think it’s dumb now, but after I break the school’s system and correct my grades, we’ll see who’s laughing then.

Susan looks from Adam’s face to his monitor.

SUSAN: So why are you on Facebook?

ADAM: Baby steps.

He leans back in his chair and cracks open a can of Mountain Dew. Sipping it, he watches as Susan looks over what he’s done.

ADAM (CONT’D): I figure if I can hack Facebook and change Sylvia’s relationship status to being in a relationship with me, she’ll be too embarrassed to change it and be forced to go out with me.

Susan shakes her head as she sits on the edge of his desk and crosses her arms.

SUSAN: I’m going to ignore the completely bone headed part of that and address the fact that you think our school servers are harder to hack than a billion dollar company’s.

She picks up a paperclip and flicks it at him.

SUSAN (CONT’D): You’re an idiot.

Adam chokes on his drink. He sets his can down, sitting up straight. Catching his breath, he glares at Susan.

ADAM: I wouldn’t expect some narrow minded drone like you to recognize my plan’s brilliance.

He turns back to his keyboard and begins to type again.

ADAM (CONT’D): I’m sure you can find your way out.

Susan glances from the back of his head to the door. Rolling her eyes, she crosses the room and stops at the door. She turns back to him.

SUSAN: You should worry less about the people who don’t want to be around you.

She opens the door.

SUSAN (CONT’D): Maybe then you’ll have time for the people who do want to be around you.

Adam turns, but Susan is already gone. He looks at his monitor.

ADAM: We’ll see about that.

He switches from Sylvia’s page to Susan’s


DING! Susan pulls her phone out. She just got a Facebooknotification. She looks up at Adam’s curtained window and smiles.


Simon Says – Heart of Gold



ANGELA works behind the counter as she prepares two coffees. She’s in her mid twenties with brown hair. She turns back to an ELDERLY COUPLE.  They take their drinks and walk away.

Angela looks to see if anyone else is waiting, but the line is empty. SANDRA Walks over to her and bumps her elbow. Angela turns, but Sandra just grins at her.

SANDRA: I’ll let you handle this next one.

Sandra walks to the back. Angela glances around then spots TWO YOUNG MEN outside the door. She pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear as they enter.

MICHAEL continues towards the counter, but GREG stops at the door and looks over the tables. He makes eye contact with the elderly men. They stare at each other for a beat then Greg turns away.

Michael reaches the counter. Angela smiles at him.

ANGELA: The usual?

Michael nods then raises his hand.

MICHAEL: Oh, and black coffee for my friend.

Angela nods and rings it up. Michael pulls out his wallet.

GREG: Are you going to chat up the coffee girl all day, or do you want to get to business?

Michael looks back as Greg lifts a briefcase. Shaking his head he turns back to Angela and passes her the money.

MICHAEL: Did you want that coffee, or what?

ANGELA: Don’t worry about it. I can bring the drinks to your table.

Michael nods and walks over to Greg. Greg points to a the table closest to the door.As Michael sits, Greg glances around again.  He drops into the seat across from Michael, leaning in close.

GREG: You think this place is right for this type of business?

Michael glances around as he leans back.

MICHAEL: Would you rather an alley?

Greg exhales.

GREG: Whatever. Are you in?

Michael rubs his temple. He opens his mouth, but Angela arrives with their drinks.

ANGELA: Here you guys go. Enjoy.

Michael smiles at her as Greg drops his head into his hand.

MICHAEL: Thanks, Angela.

Greg stands and shoos Angela.

GREG: Yeah, thanks. Now go. We’re busy.

Michael stands.

MICHAEL: You really have a way with people. Don’t you? Is this why you need to bum a last minute flight off a friend?

Greg lifts the briefcase onto the table.

GREG: I need your plane because I…

He leans in closer.

GREG (CONT’D): (quieter) I’ve got thirteen million dollars in this case. Do you want a piece or not?

Angela’s mouth drops open, and she looks from Greg to Michael.

MICHAEL: You’re insane.

GREG: Ha. You want to fly a bunch of idiot tourists around for the rest of your life. I’m the crazy one?

MICHAEL: You’ll get caught.

GREG: We’ll see.

He gestures to the table.

GREG (CONT’D): Enjoy your coffee.

He turns and walks out. Angela stares after him then turns to Michael.


Michael shrugs.

MICHAEL: I like it here.

He looks down at the table.

MICHAEL (CONT’D): You like your coffee black?

Angela shakes her head. Michael shrugs and sits down. He lifts his coffee. Angela grabs the other coffee.

ANGELA: But I can add cream to it.

Michael smiles.

MICHAEL: What time do you get off work?


Simon Says – A Dark Business



SIR ROBERTS paces in front of the long table. Seated on one side is MARTIN and THOMAS. Across from them sits GLORIA.

MARTIN: Are you ever going to tell us why we’re here after hours?

Sir Roberts holds up his hand. They all listen. The SOUND of foot steps hurrying along the hall enters the room. Sir Roberts walks over to the door and swings it open.

HUNTER runs inside. He’s younger than the rest, and his suit is in disarray. He stops and glances around the room. Furrowing his brow, he looks to the head of the table.

HUNTER: Has Sir Roberts not arrived yet?

Sir Roberts swings the door closed. Hunter jumps and turns to him.

SIR ROBERTS: I’m glad we could all make it.

Sir Roberts walks around to the head of the table. He motions Hunter to sit. Hunter darts over to the seat beside Gloria and sits.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Tonight I’ve gathered you all here to discuss a very simple matter.

He glances around the table, looking each in the eye.


Gloria rolls her eyes. Thomas strokes his beard. Hunter glances around the room.

MARTIN: Are we really doing this?

He props his head up with his hand and stares past Sir Roberts.


Sir Roberts takes his seat. He tosses a couple of documents down the table. Gloria picks one up and looks it over. The other slides to Martin. He snorts, brushing it away. Picking it up, Hunter looks it over. He looks up to Sir Roberts.

HUNTER: You monitor our emails?

Thomas chuckles and holds a hand out to calm Hunter.

THOMAS: Just the underling’s emails.

GLORIA: We’re all Sir Roberts’ underlings.

She glances over the document to Sir Roberts. Sir roberts shrugs as the rest of the board members look to him.

MARTIN: This is getting out of hand.

He stands.

MARTIN (CONT’D): Either this insanity ends, or you can accept this as my resignation.

Sir Roberts holds up his hands.

SIR ROBERTS: I must confess to withholding some information. I had hoped to spare some of us embarrassment, but if you insist, here.

He slides another document across. Everyone reaches for it, but Gloria gets it first. She looks it over then glances to Martin.

GLORIA: You’re an idiot.

She drops the document, and Martin snatches it up. Thomas stares up at him. Martin glances at it. Tossing it to the floor, he walks over to a side table with a coffee maker on it. He pours himself a drink and turns to them.

MARTIN: It doesn’t prove anything. It was a joke. A bit of nonsensical banter.

Thomas picks up the document and looks it over. He pales.

SIR ROBERTS: I suppose I may have taken your murder plot out of context.

Martin sips his coffee.

MARTIN: Of course you did. You’re a paranoid, old coot.

Sir Roberts turns to Thomas.

SIR ROBERTS: Do you agree?

THOMAS: Yes. Well, save the old coot part.

Gloria drops her hands to the table.

GLORIA: As much fun as this is, I’d like to go home and sleep. You have your culprits. Let Hunter and me go home.

SIR ROBERTS: You’d like that. Wouldn’t you? Did you have the room rigged with explosives? Or maybe just the table.

He checks under the table but doesn’t see anything.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Never mind. No one leaves till I figure out which of you wants my chair. Then I can figure out who should stay and who should go.

Martin finishes his coffee, crushes the cup, and drops it into the garbage can. He raises his hand.

MARTIN: I vote I go.

SIR ROBERTS: Very well.

He lifts a pistol and shoots Martin. Martin flies back and lands face down onto the coffee maker.His body slides of the table, taking the coffee maker with it. Coffee spills across the floor.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Damn. I just made that pot.

He turns to everyone else in the room. They duck as his pistol passes over them. He looks down at it and shrugs, returning it to his pocket.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Anyone want a fresh pot of coffee made up?

No one answers.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Well, I’d like one. Hunter, would you be so kind as to make up another?

Hunter lifts himself from his seat and walks over to Martin’s body. He crouches down and reaches for the coffee maker. Glancing at Martin’s face, he sees the eyes staring at the ceiling.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Hurry up. We don’t have all night.

Martin picks up the coffee maker and exits the room. Sir Roberts turns to Gloria and Thomas.

SIR ROBERTS (CONT’D): Some of us have even less time than the others.


Hunter steps inside the kitchen. He walks over to the sink and begins to fill the coffee pot.

BANG! BANG! Hunter freezes at the sound of the gunshots. The coffee pot falls from his hand and smashes in the bottom of the sink.

The door opens behind him. Hunter whirls around as Sir Roberts enters.

SIR ROBERTS: Thank you for forwarding those emails to me, kid.

He holds his arms out and steps closer. He stops, his eyes widening. He glances down at his stomach. A knife handle protrudes from his belly.

He looks into Hunter’s eyes. Hunter steps forward, pulling the knife out. He stabs Sir Roberts again as he brings his face beside Sir Robert’s ear.

HUNTER: You’re a fool as well as paranoid.

He pulls the knife out.

HUNTER (CONT’D): A deadly combination.

Sir Roberts falls to the ground as Hunter makes a phone call.

HUNTER (CONT’D): Come quick. Something horrible has happened.