Page 10 - FUTURE PERFECT SCREENPLAY

Butts spill out of an ashtray alongside a pots of
prescription pills for a variety of ailments.
A crumpled, dirty sleeping bag lies on a stained mattress. Strange, intricate DRAWINGS cover the walls. Huge paintings
on canvas. Bold and angry.
A MOUSE eating crumbs suddenly stops, looks up, scampers
away. A beat later the door opens and CONRAD staggers in, wheezing, coughing and out of breath.
He heats CRACK in foil. Sucks in the VAPOUR. Falls back on
the mattress. Stares into nothingness. His eyes glisten in
the darkness.
EXT. LONDON - DAWN
A FOX scampers across the road.
INT. CONRAD'S FLAT - MORNING
CONRAD wakes from a dreamless sleep. Throws up in the toilet. Coughs. Asthma attack. Sucks on his inhaler. Takes his medication. Fumbles in his pockets and retrieves the canapes from yesterday’s wake. Chews on a cold, dry Thai Fishcake. GORGEOUS
INT. FLATS. STAIRS - DAY
As CONRAD walks downstairs a first floor door opens and a
hand beckons him inside.
INT. TYRONE AND FRANK’S FLAT - DAY
CONRAD walks into an explosion of vibrant Caribbean colours.
Pink patterned wallpaper. Red patterned carpet. Striped
orange curtains. Yellow plastic roses. A velour St Vincent souvenir scroll. A print of the Last Supper in a thick ornate gold frame.
TYRONE and FRANK, identical twins in their teens, impeccably dressed, cool and co-ordinated. They finish each others sentences. The flat is overflowing with younger brothers and sisters. All eyes are on CONRAD. MUM is cooking in the tiny kitchen, obscured by steam.
FRANK holds back the lace curtain just far enough for CONRAD
to see the MCILROYS, a couple of large Irish THUGS waiting
for him on the concourse.
9.