REAL FRIENDS HELP YOU MOVE THE BODIES Written by Joshua Metzger PAGE ONE Panel One Exterior shot of a middle class suburb at dusk. A street lined with nearly identical homes. We see Oliver from behind as he knocks on the door of one of these houses. Oliver is in his mid 30’s, medium build, and wears wire rim glasses. His brown hair is parted and combed to the side. He’s well dressed, looks intelligent but also slightly feeble. F/X: Knock Knock Knock OLIVER: Chuck… OLIVER: Chuck… Panel Two Oliver tentatively opens the door and peaks his head in. OLIVER: Chuck? Panel Three Oliver enters the house. He is in the living room. All the lights are turned off, giving the place a dark and gloomy look. The only light is from the setting sunlight coming through the windows. OLIVER: Hello?…Are you here?…Anybody home? OLIVER: …Hello? VOICE (Off panel): In here. Panel Four Oliver walks into kitchen searching for the source of the voice. On the kitchen table is an empty coffee mug and a newspaper scattered into it’s different sections. OLIVER: Where? Come on, what is this, hide and go seek? VOICE (Off panel): In the bedroom. Panel Five Oliver walks towards the bedroom. The bedroom door is half way open and light shines out. We can’t quit see inside the room yet. OLIVER: So, what’s the big emergency? You sounded a little freaked out on the phone. I didn’t… Panel Six Close up on Oliver’s face as he looks into the bedroom. Eyes wide in horror. OLIVER: My God… PAGE TWO Panel One Wide shot of the bedroom. Oliver stands in the doorway looking down at his friend Chuck, who is sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Chuck is also in his mid 30’s. He’s a heavyset man, short buzzed haircut with a mustache and goatee. He has blood splattered all over him, particularly his hands, face, and torso. A butcher knife lies on the floor beside him. On the bed behind him are two nude dead bodies. A man and a woman with multiple stab wounds. The bodies and the bed are also covered in blood. CHUCK: Hey Ollie, glad you could make it. OLIVER: What have you done? Panel Two Chuck looks over his shoulder at the carnage behind him. CHUCK: Not a pretty sight is it? Panel Three Oliver cautiously moves towards the bed to get a better view of the corpses. OLIVER: Is that your wife? CHUCK: Yep, that’s Sherry…and her boyfriend. Panel Four Chuck stands up, coming face to face with Oliver. Oliver is nervous. CHUCK: I fucked up big time. I need your help here, man. I didn’t know who else to call. OLIVER: What the hell do you want me to do? Panel Five Chuck from behind as he talks to Oliver. Chuck reaches back to a gun he has tucked in the rear waist band of his pants. A snub nose .38 revolver. CHUCK: You every hear that saying? Friends help you move, real friends help you move the bodies. CHUCK: Well, I got a question for you… Panel Six Chuck sticks the barrel of the gun in Oliver’s face. CHUCK: Are you my real friend? PAGE THREE Panel One Oliver, terrified, backs up against the wall. Chuck’s expression is blank. OLIVER: …Of course I’m your real friend. You know that. OLIVER: Just put the gun away and tell me what happened. Panel Two Chuck lowers the gun to his side. CHUCK: The bitch was cheatin’ on me. CHUCK: I’d been suspecting her for awhile now. I had no proof, but I knew. I could just feel it. You know what I’m sayin’? Panel Three Chuck lowers his head. CHUCK: I hoped I was wrong. Hoped I was just bein’ paranoid. CHUCK: I had to find out the truth. Panel Four Flashback. Chuck’s house in the mourning. Chuck and his wife are in the kitchen. The room is brightly lit, the morning sun shining in. A stark contrast to the darkness we saw in this room earlier. Chuck sits at a round wooden table, reading the sports section of the newspaper. Sherry pours him a refill of coffee. CHUCK (Caption): So, this morning, I decided to find out for sure. CHUCK (Caption): I played it normal. Did my usual morning routine. Read the sports page, ate my waffles, and drank my coffee, like I do everyday before I head out to work. Panel Five Chuck sits in his car. He’s parked down the block from his house. He watches as he talks into his cell phone. CHUCK (Caption): I kissed her good bye and headed out. But, not to work. CHUCK: (Caption): I parked my car down at the end of the block and called in sick to work. CHUCK (Caption): Than I sat and waited and watched Panel Six Over the shoulder view as Chuck watches his own home. His wife, still in her night gown, holds a man’s hand and pulls him inside. CHUCK (Caption): And you know what? Turns out I ain’t paranoid, ‘cause she did have herself a male visitor. PAGE FOUR Panel One Back to the present. Oliver and Chuck stand at opposite sides of the room. Between them in the background is the is the blood covered bed and bodies. CHUCK: I wasn’t gonna hurt ‘em. I only wanted to put a scare in ‘em. That’s all. CHUCK: I mean, I didn’t even grab my gun. I didn’t plan on killing ‘em. CHUCK: …I swear. Panel Two Flashback. Chuck bursts into the bedroom surprising his wife and her lover. Chuck, with absolute rage in his eyes, holds a butcher knife. CHUCK (Caption): I could hear them moaning as soon as I opened the door. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer. CHUCK (Caption): I only wanted to scare ‘em. Panel Three The victim’s P.O.V. as Chuck, a man possessed, repeatedly stabs them. Blood flies everywhere. CHUCK (Caption): But when I saw them together…something snapped in me. I couldn’t control myself. CHUCK (Caption): The whole thing, it’s hard to remember. Like a dream or something, it doesn’t seem real. I just remember stabbing them and then, I guess, I blacked out. Panel Four The present. Chuck is completely stressed out. CHUCK: Next thing I know, it’s like seven hours later, and I’m laying on the floor covered in blood…and in a world of shit. Panel Five Chuck looks at Oliver with puppy dog eyes. OLIVER: And I guess that’s when you called me, huh? CHUCK: I need your help Oliver. I need some way to get out of this mess. If I get arrested for this, I’ll fry for sure. Panel Six Chuck gives Oliver a disturbed look. OLIVER: You won’t fry…I don’t think they use the electric chair anymore. It’d be lethal injection. CHUCK: What, are you trying to be funny? Now ain’t the time, man. Anyway they do it, it’s the same result. I’ll be dead. PAGE FIVE Panel One Oliver tries to calm his friend down. It’s not working. OLIVER: Listen, if we call the police right now, you confess to your crime and cooperate with them completely, the D. A. probably won’t push for the death penalty. CHUCK: And then what? I spend the rest of my life in prison? No fuckin’ way. Panel Two Chuck tries to regain his composure and take control of the situation. CHUCK: Here’s what we’re gonna do: We clean up all this blood and mess real good. Than we get rid of the bodies, dump ‘em someplace they’ll never be found. No more evidence. CHUCK: After that, as far as anybody knows, we just got two missing people. Panel Three Oliver gives him a condescending stare. OLIVER: That’s your plan? OLIVER: Obviously you’re not thinking straight. When your wife goes missing , you as her husband, will automatically become the prime suspect. That’s standard procedure. The police will search the house and they will find traces of blood. No matter how well we clean, they have ways of finding any remnants of blood. OLIVER: Don’t you ever watch those cop shows? Panel Four Chuck hangs his head down, looking defeated. CHUCK: Fuck…what the hell are we gonna do than? OLIVER: We? Panel Five Chuck points his gun at Oliver. CHUCK: Yes, we. CHUCK: You’re supposed to be all smart, collage boy. Think of somethin’. Panel Six Oliver puts his hands up in surrender. OLIVER: Okay, okay. OLIVER: Let’s get out of this room though. These dead bodies are freaking me out, I can’t think in here. PAGE SIX Panel One Chuck leads Oliver into the kitchen. CHUCK: You want a beer or something to eat? OLIVER: …No, for some reason I seem to have lost my appetite. CHUCK: Ain’t no cause for you to be a smart ass, I was just being hospitable. Panel Two They sit down at opposite ends of the kitchen table. CHUCK: Got any ideas yet? OLIVER: No, give me a minute here, I’m still thinking. Panel Three Chuck’s eyes get wide, he has an idea. CHUCK: Wait, how ‘bout this? I just call the cops and tell ‘em I came home from work and found ‘em this way. Panel Four Oliver quickly dismisses his idea. OLIVER: Won’t work. CHUCK: Huh? Why not? Panel Five Oliver acts like he’s talking to a child. OLIVER: Well, first off, you called in sick to work today right? The detectives will check your alibi and find out you lied. OLIVER: Second, they find those two bodies, it won’t be too hard for them to figure out your wife was cheating on you. Panel Six Oliver talks, a smug, holier-than-thou look on his face. OLIVER: So, right there they know you have motive and no alibi…like I said it won’t work. PAGE SEVEN Panel One Chuck is visibly upset with Oliver. He’s almost pouting. CHUCK: All you do is shit on my ideas. I don’t see you comin’ up with nothin’ better. OLIVER: I really think you should reconsider confessing. At this point it may be the only way to save your life. Panel Two Chuck again threatens Oliver with his .38. CHUCK: And maybe you better shut the fuck up about me confessing and come up with a plan. Panel Three Oliver, eyes down, smiles. Chuck looks at him, bewildered. OLIVER: Heh, heh, heh. CHUCK: What the hell you smilin’ at, boy? OLIVER: I got it…I got it. Panel Four Oliver holds up the newspaper that was on the table. He points at the headline. It reads: THE VANISHER SUSPECTED IN DISAPPEARANCE OF LOCAL WOMAN. Beside headline is a picture of a septagram, a seven pointed star that looks similar to the occult pentagram. OLIVER: Like I said, with your wife killed you’d be the prime suspect. Panel Five Close on Oliver. OLIVER: …Unless we give them someone else. PAGE EIGHT Panel One Oliver talks, animating the story with his hands. Chuck listens intently. OLIVER: You ever hear of the Boston Strangler? OLIVER: He was this serial killer, back in the sixties, who used to murder woman by choking them with stockings. He’d than leave the stocking tied in a bow around their neck. Eventually he was caught. His real name was something DeSalvo, I can’t really remember. Panel Two Shot of Oliver as he continues to talk. OLIVER: Anyway, I read this article on him and recently some people have started to believe that maybe, in reality, this DeSalvo guy didn’t actually commit all the killings attributed to him. Panel Three Same as last panel, but we pull in closer to Oliver’s face. OLIVER: They believe some were committed by copy cats. The theory is that other men who wanted to kill a woman did so in the M.O. of the Boston Strangler. Strangulation and the bow around the neck. The police see that and assume that one man is responsible for all the deaths. So, DeSalva takes the fall and the others get off scott free. Panel Four Tight close up on Oliver. He smiles, proud of himself. OLIVER: That’s what we do here. Panel Five Chuck is a bit confused, head tilted to one side like a dog hearing a strange sound. CHUCK: What, blame it on the Boston Strangler? OLIVER: Are you retarded? OLIVER: No, we blame it on the Vanisher. PAGE NINE Panel One Oliver hands Chuck the newspaper. OLIVER: It’s perfect. Look at his M.O. He kills his victims and takes the bodies, none of the dead have ever been found. That’s why they call him The Vanisher. All he leaves behind is that star thing drawn on the wall in blood. Panel Two Over the shoulder view of Chuck. He looks at the headline. Across the table, Oliver talks. OLIVER: So, we ditch the bodies somewhere, draw the star on the wall, and the police will presume the Vanisher has claimed more victims. Hell, he’s already believed to have killed thirteen people, what’s two more. Panel Three Close on Chuck. He smiles, his tension eased. CHUCK: That is perfect. Panel Four Chuck tosses the paper back down on the table and gives Oliver his full attention. OLIVER: And as for your alibi, you can say you were over at my place today…was there a game on tonight? CHUCK: Uh…yeah. The Cubbies were at St. Louis. OLIVER: Great. We’ll say you came over, we had a couple of beers and watched the game. Panel Five Oliver rolls his eyes at Chuck’s continued stupidity. CHUCK: But, you don’t even like sports. OLIVER: …Have you always been this dumb? The police have no idea I don’t watch sports. I could be Mr. super fan for all they know. Panel Six They get out of their seats and stand up. Ready to go to work. OLIVER: After we bury the bodies you come home and check the T. V. for the score of the game, because they’ll ask. Than you call 911 and tell the operator you just came in and saw all the blood and have no idea what happened. The cops will see the star and figure they’re the Vanisher’s latest victims. OLIVER: Simple as that. CHUCK: I knew you’d come though for me, bud. PAGE TEN Panel One Back in the bedroom. Oliver, with a rubber dish washing glove on, dips his finger into one of the pools of blood that have collected around the bed. He looks away as he does. Chuck stands above him and watches. OLIVER: God damn, this is disgusting. You should be doing this. CHUCK: Quit crying sissy, you’re doing just fine. Panel Two Oliver begins to draw the septagram, with his bloody finger, on the wall above the bed‘s headboard. OLIVER: Okay, how many points does the star have? CHUCK: Uh…six. No wait, seven…It’s seven. Panel Three They stand back looking the now completed star. Oliver holds up the newspaper, comparing his star with the one in the paper. OLIVER: I think that’s it. CHUCK: Looks good to me. Panel Four They turn away from the septagram. In the background we see the star, the blood is beginning to run down the wall. CHUCK: Now all we gotta do is get rid of the stiffs… CHUCK: Pull your truck into the garage. We can load ‘em in there without anybody seeing us. OLIVER: Hold on a sec. Why don’t we use your car? Panel Five Oliver sighs, the situation just keeps getting worse. CHUCK: Because your truck’ll work better. It’s got a big bed with a top. Plenty of room and nobody can see inside. OLIVER: …Fine, open the garage door for me, I’ll pull it in. Panel Six The garage. The corpses are now wrapped in blankets. One body is already in the bed of the truck. They are in the process of loading in the second one. Panel Seven They are now seated in the cab of the truck, still parked in the garage. Oliver is in the drivers seat. CHUCK: All set, let’s go. PAGE ELEVEN Panel One They drive, exiting the suburb. OLIVER: Where are we headed? Where do you want to dispose of the remains. CHUCK: Shit, I don’t care man. Find someplace… somewhere nobody’ll ever find ‘em. Panel Two Oliver continues to drive. They have reached the outskirts of town. A much less populated area. OLIVER: How can I be sure you won’t be burying me along side them. CHUCK: You can’t be sure. But I’ll tell ya what, you behave yourself and I don’t see no reason I’ll have to kill you. Panel Three They are driving by a large wooded area. Oliver points out the window OLIVER: How’s this? We can pull way back into the woods. It’s a nice secluded area. CHUCK: Yeah, this’ll work. Pull on in. Panel Four They are deep in the woods. The bodies have been unloaded, they now lay on the ground beside the truck. The head lights of the truck shine on the clearing they’ve selected for burying the dead. Chuck hands Oliver a shovel. CHUCK: Start diggin’. OLIVER: You’re not helping? CHUCK: Only one shovel bro…sorry ’bout that. OLIVER: Yeah, I’ll bet you are. Panel Five Oliver digs. Chuck stands watching, holding the gun down at his side. The head lights shine from behind, causing them to appear in silhouette. PAGE TWELVE Panel One Oliver has dug a hole about three feet deep and six feet wide. He is visible tired, sweat pours down face. He sticks the shovel into the earth beside the hole. OLIVER: Fuck, I’m warn out. I need a break. Why don’t you take a turn? CHUCK: Fine, get outta the way, ya puss. I’ll finish it up. Panel Two Chuck steps into the hole and starts to dig. He has puts the gun into his rear waist band. Wes takes a seat on a tree stump behind Chuck. Oliver removes his glasses ( which remain off for the rest of the story) and wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His hair is now wet and disheveled, it hangs down into his face. CHUCK: Stay right there. You try and run, I’ll shoot you. OLIVER: Relax, I’m to tired to go anywhere. Panel Three The grave is now a foot or two deeper. Chuck is digging, when suddenly the shovel head hits something. F/X: CHINK CHUCK: I hit something down here. Panel Four Chuck is on his hands and knees outside hole, reaching in and digging with his hands. Oliver stands up behind him to get a better look. OLIVER: Maybe you found some buried pirate treasure. Panel Five Close-up on the face of Chuck as he looks into the hole. He looks absolutely mystified. CHUCK: What the fuck?! Panel Six We see what Chuck sees. A partially uncovered, decomposing corpse. OLIVER (Off panel): What is it? CHUCK: There’s a body already buried in here. PAGE THIRTEEN Panel One Chuck is still knelt down looking into hole, stunned. Oliver is now standing directly behind him. Panel Two Out of nowhere, Oliver quickly snatches the gun from Chuck’s waist band. Panel Three Chuck gets up and turns to face Oliver, who now has the .38 trained on him. OLIVER: Thirteen other bodies to be exact. Panel Four Chuck’s confusion turns to horror as he comes to realize the situation he’s in. Oliver holds the gun in his outstretched hand. CHUCK: What are you doing Oliver?…wait, you… CHUCK: You’re the Vanisher. OLIVER: Correct…and here is where all those people go when they “vanish”. Panel Five Side view, as Oliver holds Chuck at gun point. The shallow grave is directly behind Chuck. CHUCK: I can’t fuckin’ believe it. I’ve known you since we was kids. I’d have never thought you were a murder. OLIVER: I was thinking the same thing about you. I guess you can never truly know anyone. We all have our secrets. Panel Six Oliver cocks back the gun’s hammer. OLIVER: Anyway, it’s been a long night. Time to get this over with. PAGE FOURTEEN Panel One Chuck put his hands out in front of himself in a defensive posture. Oliver remains perfectly calm, seemingly emotionless. CHUCK: Wait! Please don’t shoot. I swear I wasn’t going to kill you. I woulda let ya go, I just needed your help. OLIVER: I believe you Chuck, I really do. But, you see, it doesn’t matter. The problem is this. Even though the Vanisher has taken credit for the slayings, the police are still going to question you. I don’t think you could hold up…you’d crack. You would tell them everything. Like how I helped you dispose of the “evidence”. And than I go to prison for being an accessory after the fact. Panel Two Close on Oliver. He points the gun right at us. OLIVER: I have been killing people for years. Never been caught. Never left a shred of evidence…The perfect killer. OLIVER: And you come along and try to fuck all that up…I can’t allow that. OLIVER: I knew, as soon as I saw your wife and her lover dead, you would have to join them. Panel Three Tears begin to stream down Chuck’s face. Oliver smiles. CHUCK: You were playin’ me this whole time. Son of a bitch. OLIVER: The grave you just dug has ended up being your own. It’s kind of funny when you think about it. Don’t you think? OLIVER: What, you don’t find that funny? Not even a little bit? Panel Four Chuck is full of rage. CHUCK: …Fuck you! Panel Five Oliver fires the gun, a flash of light comes out of the barrel. The bullet hits Chuck square in the head. Bits of brain matter and bone shards fly out the rear exit wound. F/X: BLAM! Panel Six Chuck’s body goes limp and he collapses back into the grave. Panel Seven View from in the grave, looking up at Oliver as he stares down into hole. He holds the smoking gun, with a big evil grin on his face. OLIVER: Some people just have no sense of humor. PAGE FIFTEEN Panel One Two police officers talk to Chuck’s landlord, a middle aged balding man, on the front lawn outside Chuck’s house. LANDLORD: Their family said they haven’t seen them, neither has shown up to work in weeks. I’m sure it’s probably nothing but… COP 1: We’ll check it. Just unlock the door and wait outside. Panel Two The policemen enter the home. The landlord waits outside looking worried. Panel Three They roam the house, looking around. Both have their hands rested at the guns on their hips, ready to draw. They appear to be headed for the bedroom. Panel Four The cops enter the bedroom. COP 1: Oh, Jesus… COP 2: Looks like we got another one. Call it in… Panel Five Close-up on the septagram drawn on the wall. COP 2 (Off Panel): Tell them the Vanisher has stuck again. CAPTION (Lower right hand corner): End.
