- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ---=-l-u-k-e-w-a-r-m-=--- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -i-s-s-u-e-#-1-6- - - - - - - - - - - - - -4-.-2-1-.-9-7- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Sniper -------- a short screenplay by Sputum EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY. A long establishing shot zooms down into a crowded downtown thoroughfare. Taxi cabs and buses and all ages of family sedans languidly sift their ways through congested traffic. Pedestrians of every size and color struggle through the crowds that line the streets. Shouts and horns and music and the ubiquitous hum of purring motors ricochet through the heavy air. Close-up tracking shot of a scraggly-looking woman carrying shopping bags. Turn and zoom on an old man talking to himself, slowing foot traffic, like a pebble in a stream. Back-out and track along the crowd as they make their individual ways as one. Crossing, dodging, walking, ignoring. Then suddenly something breaks the pattern. Something clatters onto the sidewalk, borne invisibly from some point high above the street. Pedestrians stop, hesitate, and stare at the object. It is a rifle. A voice rings out from high above, clearly coherent above the tumult. SNIPER (OS) Son of a BITCH! A few people slowly realize that the object is a gun, and, rather unnecessarily, panic and begin to run away. Run away from the gun, into other people, into the street. Screams are heard. The panic multiplies exponentially and suddenly the entire crowd is cringing away from the rifle. Again, heard coming from high above, comes a cry. SNIPER (OS) Fuck! I can't BELIEVE this shit! A man comes forward from the crowd and emerges into the clearing, whose center is the mysteriously sky-fallen rifle. Most people have stopped screaming and now turn to look at him. He looks up to the sky. The sniper cannot be seen, but heard faintly. SNIPER (OS) Shit! The man picks up the gun, walks a few feet, and drops it into a garbage can. He looks around--the crowd stares back. MAN What!? The man walks away, merging with the throng. Some semblance of order is gradually resumed. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +-+-+=+=+l+u+k+e+w+a+r+m+=+=+-+-+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +mailing-list/feedback/submissions: lukewarm@bbs.bplanet.com+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + ftp.etext.org/pub/Zines/Luke+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + i want to infect you with me+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +copyright? what copyright? (c) 1997+ + + + + + + + + +