Australian Short Film Maker Resources | Australian Short Films



Breaking the Chain

December 23rd at a busy supermarket. The manager of the supermarket is in her office with a mountain of paperwork to either side of her. The phone rings repeatedly until she picks it up.

Manager: Nigella Schmidt speaking…? No darling, I won’t be home till late… Be lucky if I’m not still here in the morning… No, we’ll put the tree up tomorrow night when I get home… (The door to the office opens and the 2IC (2nd in charge) enters. He is pale and visibly shaken)

2IC: Nigella, we’ve got a situation… I think you might want to come and have a look…

Manager: (Looks up but continues to speak into the phone) I’m sorry darling, I’ll have to call you later…

2IC: We’ve found a… We’ve found something in aisle five… It looks like a bomb… There was a note with it… (Nigella slowly puts down the phone- 2IC holds up the note- it reads ‘RING 0457 506931 FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS’ in large black lettering) Shall we call the police…?

Nigella: I… I don’t know… Where… Where did you find it…?

2IC: Aisle five… Behind the baked beans… Taped to the back of the shelf…

Nigella: (Staring in disbelief at the note) Shut the doors… Don’t let anyone in…

2IC: But it’s only just past five… Shouldn’t we call the police…?

Nigella: (Shakes her head) No, Not yet… Maybe it’s just kids playing a trick…?

2IC: What about the fire alarm…? Isn’t there a procedure for this situation…?

Nigella: Wait… Wait just a moment… Let me think… (Nigella lifts the handset of the phone. She presses the number for an outside line, then dials the number on the note, then presses the loudspeaker button)

Caller: (Metallic distortion) Hello…? Who am I speaking to…?

Nigella: My name is Nigella Schmidt… I’m the manager at Greenbanks…

Caller: You got my note…?

Nigella: Yes… We did… What do you want us to do…?

Caller: What do I want…? I’m gonna blow your fucking brains out!!! That’s what I want…!!!

Nigella: Why… Why are you doing this…?

Caller: I’ll give you a clue… I used to work in the bakery…

Nigella: You did…? I don’t understand…?

Caller: I took you to court ten years ago, and I lost… Remember…?

Nigella: Aaah… Maybe… But I’m not sure if I remember your name…

Caller: No, I was just cheap labour… Straight out of school… And you didn’t know me from a bar of soap back then, so why would you remember me now…?

Nigella: Actually, we have a close relationship with all our staff… We are always ready to listen if anyone has a problem… Are you still there…? (Slightly panicked)

Caller: Yes, I’m still here…

Nigella: Oh… good… Look, I think I know why you’re doing this…

Caller: You do…?! Well, let’s hear it then…!

Nigella: Look… I… I do remember the court case… I remember it quite well actually… And we have taken steps to prevent that situation from occurring again…

Caller: So… How does that help me…?

Nigella: I… I believe we offered to re-train you… In your old position… Yes, I distinctly remember that an offer was made to you along those lines… Even if our legal advisors were of an opinion that a financial settlement was unnecessary…

Caller: Yes… You did offer to re-train me… After four years of doing the same job… Four years of doing the graveyard shift… You know why they call it the graveyard shift…?

Nigella: I don’t think I…

Caller: They call it the graveyard shift because the only people out of bed at that time of the morning are fucking zombies…! I was walking out the back door every morning while you were walking in the front… I tried to kill myself Nigella… I was clinically depressed… That’s what four years of starting work at midnight does to you…

Nigella: I’m sorry, but…

Caller: And after I left I couldn’t get a job anywhere else… Because all I’d done was load a stinking-hot oven with bread… And I had to leave Nigella… Remember…? I got caught hiding in the Ladies toilet… Everyone treated me like freak after that…

Nigella: Yes, well… that was an unfortunate incident wasn’t it… But I don’t believe we made you leave… You left of your own accord, didn’t you…?

Caller: All I wanted was back-pay Nigella… I wasn’t asking for much…

Nigella: Yes, but we had paid you… The same as all our other apprentices… We have hundreds of stores in this state and the same offer of re-training was made to all of our other apprentices… Measures were put in place to prevent the situation from occurring again… That was the result of your court case… You made that happen…

Caller: You paid me less than the trolley boys for the first two years… And now you’re sitting on a home-made bomb and I’m going to blow your ass all over the ceiling if you don’t stop talking shit to me… I’ve got my finger on the ‘send’ button right now…

Nigella: (Jumps up off chair like a scalded cat and waits near the door while her 2IC examines the chair from the furthest possible distance) NO!!! There’s no need for that!!! Please…! Just tell me what you want…!

Caller: What do I want…? I want revenge… That’s what I want… I want you to lay awake at night thinking about how all of this could have been avoided for thirty thousand dollars… Have you called the police…? (Pause)

Nigella: No! We haven’t called anyone…! Honest to god! We haven’t called anyone but you… (Pause)

Caller: Who’s ‘we’…? (Pause)

Nigella: Oh… My 2IC is here… He found the device… (Takes her seat at the desk once again) Please… We just want to resolve this as quickly as possible…

Caller: I’m sure you do! But there’s another little package waiting for you in aisle seven… You might want to go and have a look… Give me a call when you’ve found it will you…? (Nigella waves her 2IC out of the room with desperate haste)

Nigella: Wait…! You haven’t told us what you want…

Caller: Oh, but I did… I didn’t sleep properly for four years… I still don’t sleep properly… I can’t even get an erection… That’s what depression does Nigella, it completely fucks your life… I want you to know how that feels… (Phone goes dead)

Nigella: No… Please…! There must be some other way… Hello…?! Hello…?! No!!! Don’t hang up…!!! (Nigella goes through the different lines on the phone, saying ‘Hello?’ then hanging up as soon as she discovers that it’s not the caller. She stops at the last one) Aaah… No darling, I can’t stop now… We have a potential disaster on our hands… No, I’ve got to go… Really… Get the girls to sort it out can you…? (Hangs up on husband. Turns to computer screen, begins typing. Details of court case come up after a brief search. Newspaper clipping of court-case with defendant’s name and work history. A link to another news item is clicked and a different heading comes up- ‘Ex-apprentice jailed for interfering with corpse’)]

Bedroom scene- couple sleeping in the half-light. Dream sequence begins- body of young girl floating in swimming pool (picture is poor quality- grainy) Voices heard as if laughing under water. Man comes out of house for early morning swim. Sees body and

mistakes it for his own child. Dives in to attempt a rescue.

Drags body to edge of pool. Turns it over to discover

the child is a stranger. Dream ends and male sits bolt upright

in bed. His wife doesn’t stir from sleep. Reaches for pills and glass of water. Fade to Black. Scene returns to Nigella’s office.)

2IC: (Holding up an envelope) I found this behind the baby food… (Nigella takes it)

Nigella: You didn’t find anything else…?

2IC: I’ve got Cheryl checking the rest of the shelves…

Nigella: I’m going to call the police… I know who he is… I found the details of the court case and he went to jail for… for something else… They should know where to find him…

2IC: Will they shut us down…?

Nigella: Yes… There’s no way we’ll be open for tomorrow’s trading but this has gone way too far… I don’t know what I was thinking… He went to jail for throwing a dead body in somebody’s pool… He must be seriously disturbed… (The words die in her mouth as she opens the envelope and pulls out a thick wad of receipts)

2IC: What’s that…? (Bewildered)

Nigella: I don’t know… It’s a bunch of checkout dockets…

2IC: What have they got to do with anything…?

Nigella: Oh my god…

2IC: What is it…?

Nigella: (Peeling through the receipts) He’s been to every store within two hundred kilometres… Bottleshops… Service stations…

2IC: He can’t have put bombs in every store…?! He can’t have…! Someone would have seen him…! Surely…?!

Nigella: He only has to put one device in any of these stores… That’s all it will take to shut us down for the holidays…

2IC: So call the police…!

Nigella: (Recognition dawning on her) That’s what he wants… That’s exactly what he wants… That’s why he hasn’t said anything about money… Nothing at all… Nothing about what happens if we call the police…

2IC: So what do we do…?

Nigella: I’ll call him… Cut a deal… It doesn’t matter how much he wants… It won’t cost anything like what we’re looking at…

2IC: But you can’t…! Where will you get the money…?

Nigella: You’re right… We can’t do this alone… I’ll have to call head office… Get Gary Ferguson over here to deal with things…

2IC: But there’s still people trying to come into the store…

Nigella: (Dialing the number for head office) Yes… Nigella Schmidt here… Put me through to Gary Ferguson please… No it can’t wait…! Put me through to Gary Ferguson now…! Did you hear me…? [Pause] Gary… It’s Nigella and I have a life and death situation here… I need you to come over here right away… No, it can’t wait… [Pause] Gary, I have a death threat sitting right here on my desk in front of me… No, it’s a little more complicated than that… No, you can’t send someone else over… [Pause] Good! Get here as soon as you can, please! Okay, bye… (Nigella presses the button to end the call then dials the number on the note. It rings out. She dials again)

Caller: What do you want?

Nigella: Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you David… What do you want…? How much will it take to bring an end to this today…?

Caller: You sound a bit desperate Nigella…

Nigella: You know what happens if I call the police David… You don’t get anything but another stint in jail…

Caller: Oh but I do…! I get the satisfaction of knowing that Christmas just won’t ever be the same…! There are other people I can use to do this… Even if I am in jail… And what’s another ten years…? I’m better off in there, Nigella, I really am… I sleep just as well behind bars as I do on the outside…

Nigella: Just tell me how much you want and I’ll start the process of getting it together... I’m thinking twenty thousand dollars…? That ought to do it…

Caller: No actually, that won’t do at all.

Nigella: (Desperation in her voice) Well how much…? A hundred…? Is that what you want…? A hundred grand…?

Caller: I don’t want your money, Nigella! I just want to make you suffer… I want the whole company to take a hit… I know they won’t really feel it, even if you are all closed for a week… But there’s always next year… And the year after that… I know! We’ll have Christmas in July…! Won’t that be fun…!

Nigella: Okay, I’ll call the police then… (Pause)

Caller: You do that… Let me know how it goes will you…? (Phone goes dead)

2IC: Nigella, we have to call the police…

Nigella: Warren, go down to the cash room and tell them to do a rough count… I need an estimate for the day’s total… Make it quick… (Warren tries to protest but is waved away- Nigella redials as Warren leaves)

Caller: Hello…? Is that you Nigella…?

Nigella: A hundred-thousand dollars in cash. That’s all I can get. Take it or leave it…

Caller: Well that’s mighty kind of you Nigella… After all, you probably just want to get home to the kids…

Nigella: Don’t you threaten my kids… Don’t you dare…! You’re nothing but a sick bastard who can’t handle the real world… If you didn’t like your job then you should have left… So don’t threaten me or my family or this conversation is over!!!

Caller: You know what? I think somebody is missing from this conversation…

Nigella: What…? How… How did you know…?

Caller: Know what…?

Nigella: (Looks around the room in alarm) Warren just stepped out to check on the situation in aisle five… He’ll be back in a minute…

Caller: No, not warren! I was thinking of someone else…

Nigella: There’s no one else here. I told you… I haven’t called anyone…

Caller: No one…? Shouldn’t you call head office or something…?

Nigella: Warren will be back any minute, but… he doesn’t need to be here does he…? Do you want the money or not…?

Caller: Eric Poulter.

Nigella: What…? Who’s he…?

Caller: He’s the lawyer you hired to make me look like a complete loser in court… I think he’s missing from the conversation…

Nigella: Why do we need him…?

Caller: Well he was there last time we came to a financial settlement, maybe he can help us out now…? After all, he did save you a lot of money last time, didn’t he…?

Nigella: Look, is this really necessary…?

Caller: Yes, it is necessary. Make sure it’s him on the phone when you call back… (Phone goes dead just as the door opens and Warren enters the room, followed by Gary Ferguson)

Warren: Nigella… Gary Ferguson’s here…

Nigella: So I noticed…

Gary: What this all about, Nigella? I’ve got three more stores to visit this afternoon…

Nigella: (Places note on desk in front of him) There’s a bomb in aisle five… He’s been to every store within cooee of here… Including yours…

Gary: But… How do you know that…? What if he’s bluffing…?

Nigella: He’s not bluffing… Here’s the receipts to prove it…

Gary: What does he want…?

Nigella: Money… Lots of it…

Gary: How much money are we talking about here…?

Nigella: I haven’t managed to get that information out of him yet… He wants us to bring in some lawyer… He’s an ex-employee… He took us to court ten years ago…

Gary: Who…? The lawyer…?

Nigella: No! The freak making the bomb-threat…! He wants the lawyer we hired to represent the company against him… He wants him to be here next time we call him…

Gary: How many times have you called him…?

Nigella: Two… Maybe three times… He’s serious Gary… We have to make this go away…

Gary: Yes, but what about the police…?

Nigella: That’s exactly what he wants us to do… He doesn’t care about the money… He just wants to close us down… And that bomb is set to go off at midnight tonight, as far as I can tell…

Gary: But you said he wanted money…

Nigella: We all want money Gary, all of us… It’s what he wanted ten years ago when he took us to court… And he didn’t get it… And it’s the only leverage we have to make him tell us where the other devices are hidden… I don’t think we can afford to involve the police until we know exactly where the bombs are… We’re going to need all the cash from every store on the South side… That’s why I called you…

Gary: Me…?! But I can’t just go and empty the cash drawers at every store…! How am I supposed to explain that…?!!! And how do you know who he is…?

Nigella: He told me… Remember that bakery apprentice that tried to sue us for lost wages…? He’s come back to haunt us…

Gary: (Pause) But… But that was years ago…!

Nigella: Well he remembers Gary… And he’s had a few years in jail to think about it…

Gary: Jail…? When…? What did he do…?

Nigella: He threw a dead child in somebody’s swimming pool…

Gary: (Panic) What…?! But… We have to call the police…! Now…! (Reaches for the phone but his eyes stop on the receipts)

Nigella: (Places her hand on Gary’s) Not until we know where the bombs are hidden… Then we can notify the authorities and they’ll find him… Along with whatever money we give him… Then he can go back to the nasty little hole he crawled out of… I remember this guy… He left after he got caught playing with himself in the Ladies toilets… We’ll give him what he wants… Then we’ll get what we want…

Gary: (Pause) How are you going to do it…?

Nigella: I think we need to contact our lawyer friend, Eric Poulter…

Gary: Poulter…? Eric Poulter…? I think I played golf with him last year…

Nigella: Got his number…?

Gary: No, but he’s a lawyer… He won’t be too hard to find…

Eric Poulter’s bedroom. Phone rings beside bed. Eric reaches for phone and answers it, sitting up straight to continue muffled

conversation. Hangs up phone, then reaches for pills and glass

of water. Fade out. Return to office scene.

(Eric Poulter opens office door and enters wearing glasses and

clothes befitting an accountant/Star Trek geek)

Gary: Eric! Thanks for coming in on such short notice…! Look, we need your help with a small problem… More of a situation really…

Nigella: Cut the bullshit Gary… Mr Poulter, we’ve got bomb-threats on over a hundred stores… There’s a time-bomb set for midnight in aisle five of this store… And the bomber wants to speak to you…

Eric: What…? Why me?

Nigella: You represented the company when he took us to court some years ago… August, nineteen-ninety-two…

Eric: But that was years ago…!

Nigella: Yes, but some people don’t move on from these things… Mr Poulter…? Is there something wrong…?

Eric: (Collapsing into chair) He went to jail…

Nigella: Yes… You followed that case…?

Gary: Look Eric, we really need you to make a call for us…

Nigella: Hang on a minute Gary… What’s wrong Mr Poulter…? Is there something we need to know…? (moves to get a cup of water for Eric from water dispenser)

Eric: It was me… That’s why he went to jail…

Nigella: You mean you prosecuted him…? Is that what this is about…?

Eric: No, you don’t understand… He threw a dead girl in my pool…

Nigella: Oh… Jesus… Do you want some water…? (Eric reaches for pills as Nigella places dispenser cup on the desk in front of him)

Gary: Look mate, I know this is a bit of a shock but we’re on company time here…

Nigella: Gary… If you want to make yourself useful you can start organising the cash… We’re going to need all of it… He won’t have time to count it but it has to look like a million dollars…

Gary: But we haven’t even spoken to him yet…!

Nigella: I’ve spoken to him, Gary, and the son of a bitch threatened my kids… I want him in a jail cell by midnight tonight… And if we want to catch a fish then we’ll need some bait… (Holds her hands out in askance of whether he understands the enormity of the problem)

Gary: (pause) I’ll get right onto it… (Exits)

Nigella: Take as much time as you need Mr Poulter…

Eric: (Gesturing towards the phone but unable to speak)

Nigella: You want to make the call…? Now…? (Hands Eric the phone somewhat doubtfully)

Eric: (Dials the number on the note- Nigella presses loudspeaker button- dial tone rings loudly then connects- silent pause) Hello… David…?

Caller: Eric! Long-time no-see! How are you…? And how much money are they offering me…?

Eric: You’re going to jail you sick bastard…

Caller: No! I’m not actually! Been there, done that… Done that for six and a half years… I think that makes us about even don’t you think…?

Eric: You won’t get a red cent out of this David… You won’t get anything but steel and fucking concrete…! (Nigella frantically signalling the negative)

Caller: Well I may as well hang up then…

Nigella: No! Don’t hang up! We’ll get you the money! Wait! Please…!

Caller: I went to jail Eric, that’s what the justice system is all about… Do the crime, do the time… I thought you knew that…? It is your job after all…

Eric: I’m going to get you put in the deepest, darkest hole there is…

Caller: Eric! This isn’t about you! This is about Nigella and the money she owes me… It was wrong to put that girl in your swimming pool… I know that now… But the fact remains that I worked as an unskilled labourer for four years… When I was supposed to be being trained as a tradesman… Not that is takes much to make bread… It’s the principle, you know…? But I don’t expect you have any trouble sleeping… Do you Eric…?

Eric: You ignorant prick! You’re not even fit for that shit-kicking job you had at the hospital…!

Caller: It’s not about you Eric… I told you that…

Nigella: How much do you want? We can get four hundred thousand dollars… We’ll have it this afternoon…

Caller: It’s not enough…

Nigella: But…

Caller: It’s not enough. You already owed me thirty thousand dollars for four years of shit… And I didn’t get paid at all for six and a half years of prison… Then there’s the legal costs, mental anguish, family breakdown…

Nigella: It’s all we can get…

Caller: I don’t think it is… How much do you think an explosion in aisle three will cost you Nigella? You seem to have forgotten the urgency of the situation…

Nigella: No! No I haven’t! Believe me, I haven’t… Hello…? Are you there…? Don’t hang up! Are you there…? David…? (Eric places the handset back on the phone- Nigella grabs it and pushes the redial button- phone rings out) You…! You’re not doing your job! We’re not paying you for this! There’s a bomb in my store for God’s sake…! Are you crazy…?!

Eric: He ruined my life… (quiet/ staring vacantly)

Nigella: (Pause) Well wouldn’t you like to see him back behind bars…?

Eric: I have to phone my wife… Could you excuse me for a minute…?

Nigella: Aaah… Okay… I’ll wait outside then shall I…? (Waits a moment then moves to doorway- turns to speak but thinks better of it and exits)

Eric: (Gets mobile phone out of pocket- checks his text messages- sends a quick one in reply- dials his wife’s number- waits for connection) Penny… It’s me… Look, something’s come up… We might have to cancel the trip… No, it’s nothing like that…! I told you, I’m finished with all that…! No, I’m not at the office either… I’m at the supermarket… No, I’m working… They’ve got a problem here and they need me to help them sort it out… I don’t know… Yes, I know it’s Christmas but they’ve got a serious problem here… I don’t know what time I’ll be home… Look, you can still get ready to go but you have to find out if you can change the flights… I won’t know till later but I’ll call you as soon as I do… Okay, love you… Bye… (hangs up- assumes pose of defeat)

To be cont.

The Weakest Link

Manager’s office of a busy supermarket.

Eric: Okay, love you… Bye… (hangs up the phone- assumes pose of defeat)

Nigella: [Enters the room when she hears the conversation end]

How was she…? How... How are you holding up Eric…?

(Eric takes a drink of water but doesn’t answer)

Look mate, the quickest way to get this over with is to put the sick bastard back in jail… And the best way to do that is to give him the money and then set the dogs on him… We’ll get the police involved as soon as possible…

Eric: I can’t sleep… I have bad dreams… Nightmares… My marriage has been ruined… We haven’t had sex for months… I can’t even face the court-room anymore… My partner has been filling in for me… (reaches for more pills)

Nigella: [Leaning close] Eric! He’s right here in front of you… All you have to do is reach out and grab him… Now are you a lawyer…? Or a boy scout…?

Eric: I don’t know if can do this…

Nigella: [Grabs him firmly by the shoulders, looks into his eyes] Eric… Please… It’s Christmas and I want to go home and decorate the tree with my family… I don’t want to be talking on the phone to a pathetic little body-snatcher who can’t even get it up… (looks alarmed) Sorry… He told me the same thing… About not being able to perform in bed… Actually, he said the same thing about not sleeping…

Eric: (Only half-listening) He did…?

Nigella: Yeah, but… As I was saying, I just want to go home… And so do you… Don’t you…?

Eric: Yes… But…

Nigella: And we can’t go home unless our friend the bakery apprentice is back behind bars… Where he belongs… Am I right…?

Eric: What do you want me to do…?

Nigella: Just get on the phone and make it happen… Say whatever you have to say… Just get the location of any other devices he may have planted…

Eric: What if there aren’t any…?

Nigella: Well it doesn’t matter does it? It doesn’t matter if he put a Kinder Surprise on the shelf and called it a bomb… We are still out of business for at least a week…

Eric: So what? Isn’t that better than giving him what he wants?

Nigella: No Eric, it’s not better… It’s much, much worse… Do you know how hard it is to get sales figures like we have here at Greenbanks? Do you know what happens when a customer changes stores? Research shows that they don’t come back…

Eric: What…? This is crazy…! There’s a bomb in your store and you’re not calling the police…? You call me instead…? Even if you had called them, I still wouldn’t want to do it…

Nigella: Eric! There’s no one else! He wants you… He specifically asked for you…! What do you want…? Name your price! There are people who can help with your problem… Good people who understand… We’ll make sure you get that help… But first you have to help us…

Eric: (Slowly) Okay. I’ll do it. But it has to be done today. I don’t want to have to deal with this shit tomorrow…

Nigella: That’s good…! Music to my ears…! Can we work out the details later…?

Eric: I want fifty grand.

Nigella: (Hesitating) Fifty grand…? Look, why don’t we sit down and discuss it later… (She jumps as the phone rings- and the longer it goes unanswered, the more panicked she becomes)

Eric: Fifty thousand dollars. Take it or leave it.

Nigella: Look, we can get you help… The best help available…

Eric: I don’t want a fucking quack doctor to tell me my problems… I want to know that I won’t have to sell my house… Even if I do have to sell my half of the business… My partner wants me out…

Nigella: Why don’t we call it twenty-five…? (Eric gets up to leave) Okay…! Fifty…! (Eric sits back down as Nigella snatches up the phone and presses it to her ear) No, sorry… I don’t have time for this right now…! Well you might just have to wait till January…! (slams phone down)

Eric: (Pause) Okay if we do the paperwork now…?

Nigella: Now…? But we’ve got work to do…

Eric: It will only take a minute… (Opens his laptop case)

Projector screen shows Eric finding a template on his PC and filling out the relevant details, then sending it to ‘print’ on Nigella’s printer. He signs the document then slides it in front of Nigella.

Nigella: I’ll have to get someone to check this before I sign it…

Eric: No you don’t… You’ve seen plenty of them before, but if you want to take a minute or two to go through it…?

Nigella: If we don’t get him then you’ll be doing it at your usual rate won’t you…? (Eric thinks about it briefly then nods the affirmative) Well we better get started then hadn’t we…?

Eric: How much have I got to work with…?

Nigella: It doesn’t matter…

Eric: Should I stop at a million…?

Nigella: Yes.

Eric: Cash?

Nigella: Of course…! How else would we do it…?

Eric: Well most large transactions are done electronically…

Nigella: But it’s a ransom…! He’s a bloody terrorist…!

Eric: Can you get the cash? A million dollars isn’t what it used to be, Nigella… My house is worth is one-point-two… How much is yours worth…? (Nigella chooses not to answer) And you’re confident that you’re going to get the money back…?

Nigella: Yes… You’re right… It doesn’t matter how much we give him… Just make the call… (Eric picks up the phone and dials)

Caller: (Metallic distortion) Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, I’m being fucked up the ass by a multi-national supermarket chain…

Eric: This is Eric Poulter speaking, I’m calling on behalf of Nigella Schmidt and company…

Caller: Eric! Mate! It’s good to hear from you…!

Eric: David, I’m merely representing Nigella Schmidt and company… If you don’t mind then we’ll stick to matters of business…

Caller: No, we fucking won’t… We’ll talk about whatever I want to talk about…

Eric: Very good… What exactly would you like to discuss…?

Caller: (Pause) Have you called the cops?

Eric: No sir, the police have yet to be informed, though I have advised Nigella to inform the police immediately, as opposed to dealing with yourself personally…

Caller: How have you been Eric? Still doing a few laps before breakfast…?

Eric: Actually, no…

Caller: Why not? Such a lovely place you’ve got… Bit of a waste not to take a dip in the pool occasionally…?

Eric: Sir, I’m calling on behalf of Nigella Schmidt and company… They believe a sum of money could bring the situation to a favourable conclusion that suits both parties… Would you like to proceed along those lines or are there other matters you’d prefer to discuss?

Caller: (Long pause) You’re a fucking lawyer through and through aren’t you, Eric? How much are they paying you for this? Hey?! How much are you getting out of it?

Eric: I don’t believe the details are really relevant to the matter at hand…

Caller: Go on! How much?

Eric: An agreement has been reached whereby I am to receive the sum of fifty thousand dollars, upon the successful conclusion of the matter at hand…

Caller: Fifty grand?! For what…? Making a phone call…?! You’ve got to be kidding me…!

Eric: I believe the matter requires the successful removal of either one or several explosive devices planted by yourself in the stores of Nigella Schmidt and company…

Caller: Still easy money though isn’t it…? How much did you get for ripping me off my thirty grand…?

Eric: I don’t have that information to hand… I would have to request it from my accountant and I doubt that he could make the information available before the close of business this afternoon…

Caller: Have a guess…

Eric: It wouldn’t be professional…

Caller: You did a good job on that one didn’t you? Made me look like the biggest dickhead in the world…

Eric: I am good at my job…

Caller: (Pause) Let’s see you do your job then… How are you going to make me tell you where the bombs are…?

Eric: I have been authorised to offer you one million dollars… Half of it in cash…

Caller: And the other half…?

Eric: …can be electronically transferred to the bank account of your choice…

Caller: (Pause) Isn’t that going to be a bit easy to trace…?

Eric: I’m not one hundred percent sure but given the limited amount of time given to assemble the amount, I don’t believe enough serial numbers could be copied down to make the notes traceable… And the electronic transfer depends on your ability to access the account after the authorities have been notified…

Caller: And how would I do that…?

Eric: Well, offshore bank accounts are pretty common these days… I don’t suppose you took the precaution of leaving the country before the device was discovered…?

Caller: (Long pause) I don’t know if a million is enough… I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to do this and… Well I’d kind of like to see the bombs go off… I made the news once before… Didn’t I Eric?!

Eric: I’m not sure what you’re referring to…

Caller: But it’s been a while… I’d kind of like the boys in high-security to see me on the TV again… Bombs going off… Fire engines and ambulances…

Eric: Why don’t you do something useful like find a cure for cancer? That way you can…

Caller: I’ve got a cure for cancer, you half-smart cunt…! I’ve got a bullet for every lawyer and every supermarket manager in the whole fucking country!

Eric: David… All I’m suggesting is you take the money being offered to you. The last time I represented Nigella in this capacity, it was in my interest to minimise financial losses… This time I have been instructed that money is no object…

Caller: Oh really…? (Pause) Well how about ten million dollars…?

Eric: (Waits for Nigella’s reaction- she nods the affirmative) Ten million dollars we can do…

Caller: But a minute ago it was one million and she wasn’t even sure she could do that… Why’s she changed her tune so quickly…?

Eric: That was the maximum that was available in cash… I have informed my employers that an electronic transfer would be more practical…

Caller: (Pause) All I wanted was lost wages… All I wanted was thirty thousand dollars… I earned that money…! The checkout chicks were getting paid more than me to turn up at midday…! I was getting up at in the middle of the fucking night…! Do you know what it’s like to try and sleep at nine o’clock in the morning…? Why couldn’t you people just pay me what you owed me…? Was it too much to ask…? (Gary Ferguson returns to the office- takes a seat at the back of the room)

Eric: I understand that David. I understand perfectly…

Caller: (Shouting) No you don’t!!! You don’t know anything…!!! I’m going to blow up that store and every other fucking store I’ve been to…!!!

Eric: David… Wait a minute… You don’t have to do this…

Caller: Yes, I do…! It’s the only way you people take anything seriously…! I should have killed your fucking daughter…!

Eric: (Teeth clenched) David… This isn’t helping your situation…

Caller: What about that bitch paying you…? What will it take to make her take me seriously…?!

Nigella: (Barely controlled) I am taking you seriously David… Believe me, I’m taking this very seriously…

Caller: (Nasty) When was the last time you checked the water level, Nigella…?

Eric: You’re going too far now, David… If we don’t get back to negotiating the fiscal terms immediately then I’ll have no choice but to inform the authorities… Do you hear…?

Caller: (Pause) What are ‘fiscal’ terms…?

Eric: (Patiently) That means money David, ‘fiscal’ is the same as ‘finance’… It’s just another word for it…

Caller: How are you going to give me ten million dollars anyway…? Are you just gonna put it in my savings account…? What good is that if I go back to jail…?

Eric: Maybe you should have thought of that before you went ahead with your plan…

Caller: Well maybe I’ll just go with plan B, Eric! Maybe you can just shove your fucking fiscal up your ass…!

Eric: David… It’s not too late to give yourself up… The police will have to be involved but no one’s been hurt… No real harm has been done… (Pause) If you stop this now then a good case can be made for… For everything you’ve been through…

Caller: It’s too late for that…

Eric: Well, maybe there’s another way… A way for you to hurt the… Your former employers… And maybe you can do some good while you’re at it…

Caller: What the fuck are you talking about…?

Eric: You’re right… We can’t really give you the money… But you could give it to charity… I could arrange for that to happen…

Caller: (Pause) I don’t know if I’m really the charitable type…

Eric: You know why I was allowed to give you ten million dollars David…? It’s because my employers were secure in the knowledge that the money would be retrieved after you were arrested… (Pause) But if the money was given to an international charity then it would be almost impossible to get it back… I could draft a contract for Nigella and her superior to sign…

Gary: We’re not doing that…! (Stops dead when Eric raises his hand in alarm- Nigella is frozen to the spot)

Caller: Who’s that…?

Eric: That’s Gary Ferguson… He’s the general manager of all the stores in this state…

Caller: How long has been here…?

Eric: He just got back a minute ago… He’s been organising the cash payment…

Caller: How did you go Gary…? How much did you get…?

Gary: (Eric gives him a nod) Ahhh…

Caller: Don’t fucking lie to me! I’ll press the send button right now! You like beans Gary…? You better, ‘cos they’re about to be served raw… With a fucking meat salad…!

Gary: (Shaken) There’s about five hundred thousand dollars…

Caller: And you’ll sign whatever Eric gives you to sign…?

Gary: Yes… Yes, I’ll sign it…

Caller: Ha! Who wants to be a millionaire! Who should we give it to Eric…? Is there a charity for panda bears? Or have the fucking Chinese eaten them all…?

Eric: I happen to know of a charity for homeless children in Calcutta… It’s one I contribute to myself…

Caller: Fuckin curry-munchers! Yeah…! Let’s give it to the dirty little towel-heads…!

Eric: And the Indian financial system is almost impossible to track… I think you’ll find it suits our purpose quite well…

Caller: (Pause) How will I know it’s been done…?

Eric: Have you got the internet…?

Caller: (Pause) Yeah… What do you think I am…? A fuckin retard…?

Eric: It’s probably best that we stick to matters of business David…

Caller: You do… Don’t ya…? You think I’m a fucking retard…

Eric: Anyone who can construct a time-delayed explosive device has my utmost respect David… Despite any pre-conceptions I may have held previously…

Caller: (Pause) Okay… What about the internet…?

Eric: If you can make a Skype-call to my phone then I can make a live recording while I draw up the contract…

Caller: What if you trace the call…?

Eric: There may be some risk involved as you only have our word that the police have yet to be involved… But it’s really not any different to the phone call you’re making right now…

Caller: How do I do a…? I’ve never done a Skype before…

Eric: (Takes a deep breath) David, if you can assemble a home-made bomb then you can work out how to make a Skype-call…

Caller: What’s your number…?

Eric: Zero… four… five… nine… four… five… three… seven… three… six.

Caller: If the cops show up I’m gonna blow every fucking store to bits…

Eric: We’re aware of that David…

Caller: Give me a minute…

Eric: We’re here all day… (To Gary and Nigella) I’ll have to transfer the funds to Poulter & Stephens before we send it abroad… That way we may be able to claim it on our insurance… (Eric brings a financial contract up on his computer screen and begins typing)

Caller: What…? You’re giving the money to the fucking lawyer…?

Eric: (Startled) It’s just a formality David… Law firms are handling large sums of money all the time…

Caller: Fuck you Eric… This is just another way to screw me over isn’t it… Just like last time… Well you know what happened last time don’t you… She forgot to put her floaties on…

Eric: (Physically flinches) This is not a trick David…

Caller: I still want the cash Eric… I’m holding you personally responsible…

Eric: Yes… Okay… I get it…

Caller: I’m calling you now… (Eric’s mobile phone rings and he answers it- Eric hands the phone to Nigella so as he can have both hands free to type.)

Nigella: Oh my god…

Caller: Hi Eric… Long time, no see…

Eric: Can… Can you see the computer screen…?

Caller: Yeah, I can see it… Can you hold it a bit closer…?

(Nigella complies as Eric commences drawing up the contract- sends it to print- hands the computer over to Gary for him to access the company bank account- Eric reaches over his shoulder to type in his law-firms bank account number- the transaction is completed)

Eric: Now you just have to sign this, Gary… I’ll get Nigella to second it… I can sign as the witness…

Caller: What’s he signing…?

Eric: It’s a waiver… It says that as the representative of his company he will not try to discredit the transaction as an unlawful act… (the contract comes into focus on the projector screen) Sign here Gary…

(Eric brings up the web page of the charity and proceeds to make the transaction from the bank account of Poulter & Stephens)

Caller: Is that it?

Eric: That’s it.

Caller: Already? Ten million dollars…?

Eric: You sound disappointed…

Caller: But… Where’s my fucking money?!

Eric: You mean the cash?

Caller: Yes, I mean the cash! What the fuck do I care about the curry-munching bastards?!

Eric: We can arrange a drop-off point for the cash now if you like…

Caller: I’ve still got itchy fingers, Eric… Maybe I’ll just press the button and wait for the cash to deliver itself…

Eric: My clients are eager to avoid any kind of situation that ends in violence, David…

Caller: Start driving… If you’re not here in fifteen minutes, then its free beans for everyone in aisle five… (Eric packs up his laptop and follows Gary and Nigella out of the door.)

Ten minutes later; Eric is sitting in the passenger seat of Gary Ferguson’s car. Nigella is in the back seat. They have been instructed to throw their phones into a nearby rubbish bin. It is the first time they have been out of direct contact with the supermarket-bomber.

Gary: So what’s the deal with that Indian charity?

Eric: You’ll have the money back by Monday.

Nigella: Are you sure about that…?

Eric: No, not really… But it won’t be my problem then anyway…

Gary: What do you mean? That’s your job isn’t it?

Eric: My job is to get the location of every bomb in your store… If you want me back on Monday then I’m sure we can come to some agreement…

Gary: (Laughing spitefully) You fucking lawyers are all the same…

Nigella: Is this him? (A white van on the other side of the carpark has turned on its headlights and drives closer.)

Gary: Did he say what colour car he was driving?

Eric: I’ll be back in a minute…

Nigella: Wait… Eric…

Eric keeps walking, briefcase in hand. He stops near the other car. The driver of the other car gets out and forces Eric Poulter into the passenger seat at gunpoint, then fires several bullets into the tires and radiator of Gary Ferguson’s vehicle. Nigella stops screaming as the van speeds away into the distance, Gary Ferguson lurches out of the vehicle and throws up in a garden bed.

Two hours later, police in body armour are storming a suburban flat. They arrest an unarmed male and take him into custody, after a brief interrogation by detectives. The detectives confer in the unmarked car outside the flat.

1st Detective: You reckon that’s our guy?

2nd Detective: He fits the description.

1st Detective: I don’t think he knows how to fuck a pigeon…

2nd Detective: Is that what we’re taking him in for…?

1st Detective: He didn’t have even have phone credit, let alone proper internet…

2nd Detective: Who else have we got to talk to?

1st Detective: The lawyer’s missus… She’s not answering her phone…

1st Detective: (glances at his phone, checking to see who’s calling before pressing the screen and holding it to his ear.) Yeah, Petey… Whaddya got…? (Listens briefly) We’ll be there in ten… (Ends the call)

2nd Detective: You got a hot tip for race seven…?

1st Detective: You better believe it… We got one rubber ducky sitting on the nest… Fuck knows where the other one’s got to…

The ex-bakery apprentice is being held in an interview room. The two detectives questioning him are interrupted by a junior constable.

Constable: Eric Poulter’s wife is here… With her daughter… I think she might have some information…

1st Detective: Where is she?

Constable: (Points to the wall) Room 2…

1st Detective: (To 2nd Detective) You want to go suss her out…?

2nd Detective: Yup… (Gets up and follows the constable out of the room)

Interview Room 2. Eric Poulter’s wife is obviously distraught.

2nd Detective: We are trying very hard to find your husband Ms. Poulter… Is there anything you can tell me that might help us find him sooner…?

Penny Poulter: I… I think he’s on a plane to Thailand…

2nd Detective: He what…?!

Penny Poulter: I met him at the airport… But I couldn’t get on the plane… I just couldn’t…

2nd Detective: What do you mean…?

Penny Poulter: I… I saw that look… He said he’d really stopped gambling this time… But I’ve heard it so many times before… I actually believed him… But they’re going to kill him…

2nd Detective: Who? Who’s going to kill him, Ms. Poulter?

Penny Poulter: The people who loaned him the money… When the bank foreclosed on us…

2nd Detective: Ms. Poulter, we’ve got the man who threatened to hurt your husband… We just need to know where Eric is…

Penny Poulter: Which man?

2nd Detective: The man who threw a dead body into your swimming pool…

Penny Poulter: What? No! He didn’t have anything to do with it… It was the people that loaned Eric the money… They put that girl’s body in our pool… They said next time it would be our daughter…

2nd Detective: It was him, Ms. Poulter… He went to jail for six years…

Penny Poulter: No, Please! You have to protect my family! They know where we live!

2nd Detective: When… When did you last see your husband?

Penny Poulter: About thirty minutes ago…?

2nd Detective: And he was about to get on a plane to Thailand…?

Penny Poulter: Yes! He said he was going to pay them back the money when we got there… But I saw that look in his eye… He’s going to lose it all again… Just like last time…

2nd Detective: You said you were at the airport with your husband thirty minutes ago…?

Penny Poulter: Yes…

2nd Detective: And you came straight here…?

Penny Poulter: Yes… Please… You have to protect us…

2nd Detective: (Getting up from her chair) If you could just wait here, Ms. Poulter…

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