DEAD BEAT By Richard Sloat

SCENE 1

INT. HOUSE - DAY An old radio Alarm clock hisses loudly with static and garbled music, it reads 9 AM. After a few seconds a hand slaps it until it turns off. DISSOLVE The Alarm clock reads 12:45 PM. Non-diegetic music plays to end of scene In an unkempt bedroom HIT MAN, A man in his late twenties lays semi-conscious on his bed. He wears the clothes from the previous night; brown suit trousers and a crumpled black shirt.

MONTAGE (EQUAL LENGTH) 1) Legs swing over the side of the bed and slip into boots 2) A Black necktie is snatched from the floor. 3) A stained cup is placed on a kitchen counter 4) Hit Man slips his tie over his neck 5) A Tea bag is dropped in the cup 7) sugar scooped from bag 8) A Jacket is pulled from a stack of reference books (forensics, anatomy, British national formulary) 9) Kettle is switched on 10) Hit Man straightens a battered cigarette 11) Hit Man Brushes his teeth in a lackluster manner 12) Jacket is pulled on

13) Hit Man Spits in sink 14) The Kettle boils 15) A Blue peter badge on the jacket is adjusted 16) A lot of Milk is added to tea 17) Television is switched on 18) Cigarette is lit from the stove INT. LIVING ROOM Hit Man sits on his sofa wearing a tatty brown suit, staring blankly at the television in front of him. Wearing a morose expression he slurps milky tea from a mug grasped in his right hand; alternately taking drags from the cigarette dangling from his left. The title "dead-beat" is imposed at the bottom of the frame for 3-4 seconds. Hit man places The Mug on the floor next to his feet. He drops the remains of his cigarette in the mug and stands Up. Hit Man reaches his front door. He pauses to check his pockets then starts to walk back; he grabs a set of keys and a fistful of surgical gloves. Hit man leaves, pulling the door closed behind him. SCENE 2 INT. PUB - DAYTIME A Juke box is turned on, Music plays faintly in the background. A Drink is poured, a triple measure of dark rum, topped up with coke. The Pub is dark, rough around the edges and almost empty. HIT MAN leans on the bar facing away from THE BARMAN and surveys the room. The Barman sets the drink on the counter; Hit Man picks it up without looking and takes a sip. HIT MAN My one o-clock still here? Hit man speaks in a dead-pan monotone. He leans around and palms THE BARMAN a few tightly folded notes, turning to look him in the eye as he does it. THE BARMAN tucks the notes into

his back pocket and points toward THE CUSTOMER with his free hand. THE CUSTOMER is a nervous looking, middle aged man wearing dark glasses and dressed in a fleece jumper and khaki trousers. He sits at a small table with one spare seat and nurses a half pint of beer. 2 empty half pint glasses and a brown a4 envelope rest on the table. Hit Man looks at the Customer then sags visibly; he takes another swig of his drink and strides over. HIT MAN You my one o'clock? The Customer Pauses awkwardly and looks Hit Man up and Down. CUSTOMER I don't know, am I? Hit man Sighs HIT MAN Well, You're the only shifty bloke with a big brown envelope aren't you? The Customer looks down at the crisp brown envelope. Hit man casually sits down on the opposite side of the table. CUSTOMER Its just you don't really look like a... HIT MAN Well I find it's best not to dress up like one. Hit man reaches over and tugs at the envelope. The Customer grabs on to the other edge. Hit man sighs. HIT MAN I don't care if you believe me or not. Make a decision. Pause The customer lets go of the envelope, hit man opens it up and browses through the contents, he speaks without looking up. HIT MAN And take the sunglasses off, it's fucking January. Hit man pulls a pen from his pocket and starts writing on the palm of his left hand. The Customer takes off his sunglasses, composes himself as best he can for a few seconds and sips his

drink. After waiting patiently The Customer speaks, CUSTOMER You see Im only doing this because.. HIT MAN interrupts, HIT MAN When do you want it done? Today? CUSTOMER

HIT MAN purses his lips and inhales sharply HIT MAN Hows Monday? I'm not really in the mood today The Customer looks distraught CUSTOMER no!... no, you see, It has to be today because.. Hit man puts his pen back in his pocket and passes The Customer the envelope, interrupting him again. HIT MAN All right! Spare me the exposition, how do you want it done? The Customer stares in confusion, CUSTOMER How do I want, I thought, you just, y'know... Hit Man counts with his fingers as he lists the options. HIT MAN you've got options. I can do it messy, I can do a disappearance, maybe a suicide, whatever tickles your fancy. Hit man picks up his drink and takes a sip CUSTOMER What do you recommend? HIT MAN Messy's your cheapest, all I really do there hit them with a brick, 5, maybe 6 times.

Hit man gestures wildly with his hands spilling some of his drink on The Customer. CUSTOMER I just need them, gone. I don't want them to suffer; I'm not a monster. Hit Man chuckles to himself HIT MAN I'm sure you're lovely, You want a disappearance. little more than the bludgeoning, but its clean, and I get shot of the uh, Hit man searches for a euphemism, but soon gives up HIT MAN (CCONT'D) Corpse CUSTOMER Uh, That one. They, they wont feel anything will they? HIT MAN Well, there's gonna be some discomfort in the neck area Long Pause HIT MAN O.K, Let me see... Hit Man puts his drink down, pulls a calculator from his pocket and holds it close to his face; He begins tapping aimlessly at the keys. HIT MAN You've got your...call out charge...corpse disposal... The Customer looks around nervously as the hit man pretends to tally up. Hit man takes the opportunity to size The Customer up one more time. HIT MAN (CONT'D) Labour...expenses going to be about two The Customer nods CUSTOMER Thousand? that's cheaper than I imagined HIT MAN Probably two and a half... with the

VAT. SCENE 3 Human recourses FADE FROM BLACK INT. OFFICE. DAY Chair legs, Hit Man walks past and sits down SECRETARY Yea, yea, I know, it's awful, Telephone on a desk, the receiver is off SECRETARY (CONT'D) Now...Well Now they're saying she might have to have the whole thing removed, listen, I've A white coffee mug full of pens A small plaque on the desk reads human resources SECRETARY (CONT'D) I've got to go; I'll...I'll see you Tuesday, tata The receiver is replaced. THE SECRETARY, a woman in her thirties sits behind her cluttered desk, in a crampt office with a sickly looking spider plant on top of a filing cabinet. Hit man sits on a chair opposite her. SECRETARY I've had another complaint about You.. HIT MAN I had a lovely Christmas, thanks for asking SECRETARY Do you want to go back to the abattoir? The Secretary stares at Hit Man, he tries to stare her down for a couple of seconds but eventually cracks. HIT MAN First blow, his head busted open, a bit went in my mouth. Hit man mimes a skull cracking open. Secretary rubs her temples. SECRETARY

And the arson? HIT MAN Well I wasn't going to clean that up; client all over the place. Secretary makes a money gesture with her free hand, HIT MAN Pulls a wedge of notes from his inside pocket and hands it to her. SECRETARY Retard, He was supposed to disappear, not combust. What did you use? a brick? Secretary starts to count the money, hit man looks down and picks at his tie for a second, then coughs. HIT MAN So yea, can of petrol seemed like the most elegant.. SECRETARY You forgot to dig a hole Secretary counts the money again HIT MAN I wouldn't say forgot, Hit Man looks up; Secretary Glares at him then puts the cash in a drawer. HIT MAN I mean he is dead after all, they paid in book tokens, what do they expect, fucking Leon? Secretary plucks a printed pay-cheque from her drawer, it Instantly catches the hit man's attention. SECRETARY You're lucky Savage Allan had that accident, or you'd be out of a job. HIT MAN Yea yea, This placed fall apart without me. (pause) SECRETARY You're working this afternoon. HIT MAN I'm doing college road at 4, for that shifty bloke.

SECRETARY It's just a quote, perfect for you. Take five minutes, trust me. The Secretary waves the pay-cheque. Hit Man sighs. (Pause) HIT MAN Fine, the bus stop, in an hour Hit Man snatches his pay-cheque and tucks it into his top pocket. The Secretary smiles. SECRETARY One near the park? Hit Man stands to leave HIT MAN The one near the shop. gotta get some bits SCENE 4 Karma EXT. STREET - AFTERNOON A Girl in her late teen's stands at the edge of a bus shelter. Hit man enters the shelter with a shopping bag and sits down, watched by The Girl. HIT MAN You the one I'm here to see? The Girl sits down next to The Hit Man and stares at the floor. GIRL You're late. Hit man jostles his tesco bag HIT MAN Too me half an hour just to find the bog roll. What is it you're after? THE GIRL revenge HIT MAN That's original, how do you want it done? GIRL

I want you to fuck him up, I want retribution. Hit Man looks quizzically at The Girl; he seems almost impressed. The Girls gaze stays fixed on the floor. HIT MAN You've come to the right man, I can show him his intestines if you can afford it. GIRL The thing is, I'm on a fixed Budget. HIT MAN How fixed is your budget? GIRL Eight hundred Pause, Hit Man looks unimpressed HIT MAN I can throw in an eye gouging, maybe cut him up a bit, but for eight hundred I'm not spending all day about it. Deal. GIRL

HIT MAN Who's the lucky fella? GIRL The man who killed my dad, Hit man sighs, HIT MAN Who is.. GIRL I don't know, I thought you could.. Hit Man stands up, The Girl looks up. HIT MAN Five minutes my arse. i'm goin' home GIRL What about my dad Hit Man turns to walk away HIT MAN

Fuck him. Come back when you've got something GIRL I've got cash, nearly 2 grand. Girl pulls an envelope from her pocket, Hit Man stops dead as if he can smell the lucre HIT MAN Maybe I can help you, what's your old man's name? GIRL Garrick, Dave Garrick. Hit Man's eyes widen as he makes a realization. The Girl looks up at him, deep in thought. GIRL In our own home, in broad daylight, some sick fuck smashed his head in, Hit Man sits back down HIT MAN That. Is. Terrible, what did the police say? GIRL they were no use, by the time they got the fire out they couldn't even say for sure it was him. Hit Man smiles HIT MAN You've come to the right man. Trust me.

The Girl smiles, Hit man snatches the money.

SCENE 5 Confrontation

INT. KITCHEN A radio sits on a kitchen counter, its tuned to radio 4, The Archers theme can be heard, a mobile phone chirps, a hand covered with a surgical glove places a half eaten sandwich on the counter in front of the radio and turns down to a quiet hum. HIT MAN Allright... yea, I spoke to her, I

suppose you think it's fucking funny Camera slowly pulls back to reveal HIT MAN standing in a kitchen. He is wearing latex gloves and lent casually against the cabinets. HIT MAN (CONT'D) Laugh it up, Of course I took the money, well.. no, The camera pulls back further. He has shopping bags tied over his feet. HIT MAN (CONT'D) Yea.. But I'm going to string her along for a bit... I'm at the propper job... yea, working through my lunch break The camera pulls back again, hit man hops down from the counter. A body size mass wrapped in black plastic and duct tape twitches on the floor by his feet. HIT MAN (CONT'D) Relax... I've got the key and everything, piece of piss Hit man takes the last bite of his sandwich as he kicks the black plastic mass, it stops twitching. HIT MAN (CONT'D) Loads of time... what do you take me for? The hit man starts to wander around the kitchen, casually opening and closing cabinets, he winces. HIT MAN (CONT'D) There's no need for that He pauses at one packets with his braces the phone bottle and pours cabinet, he rifles through various pill spare hand, studying the labels. Hit Man between his chin and shoulder, opens a the contents into his pocket.

HIT MAN (CONT'D) No blood, all bagged up... I can have the teeth out, chuck it in the hole and still make back for you've been framed. No thanks to you. HIT MAN places the bottle back in the cupboard and closes it. SCENE 6 INT. HIT MAN'S HOUSE

A knife gripped tightly in a hand chops violently. Hit man stands at his kitchen counter, wearing an apron, chopping celery. A pot of soup simmers on the stove next to him. The door knocks loudly, hit man looks startled, He approaches the door wearily, knife in hand, the bell rings again. HIT MAN licks the palm of his hand and rubs it on his trousers. He looks through the spy hole and sighs deeply, It's The Girl. He opens the door and yanks her inside. HIT MAN 'fuck are you doing here? THE GIRL You haven't returned my calls, I wanna know how its going Hit Man rubs his temples with his fingers HIT MAN No. I mean what are you doing HERE? Where I live, ideally you're not supposed to know that. THE GIRL I moved round the corner after the fire, saw you coming home Hit Man sighs. HIT MAN In that case you better come in Hit man reaches over The Girls shoulder and shoves the door closed. Hit man stands in the kitchen, the television can be heard, he shouts toward the doorway. HIT MAN Cup of tea? Hit man puts a teabag into a cup and follows it with a fistful of pills. Long pause No thanks, THE GIRL

Hit man sags, and shoves the cup away. He looks around his kitchen, Hit man looks at the knife resting on the counter top, then at the half chopped celery.

THE GIRL So have you got any leads? He picks the boiling broth and looks to the doorway, pauses, then smells it then sets it back down on the hob. HIT MAN A few, but these things take time. Hit man grabs a dish rag from the counter, he studies it for a second, pulls it taught, and tucks it into the back of his trousers. THE GIRL How much time? Have you got any names? HIT MAN A week, look I'm trying to cook my dinner, surely someone's wondering where you are? Hit man THE GIRL I made something up, hardly going tell anyone about this am i? The Girl pokes her head into the kitchen just as hit man turns to walk back out. He ushers her out and the pair stand in the living room. Hit Man smiles HIT MAN Very shrewd, trust me. i'll have it done by friday night... meet you by the canal THE GIRL You better not be fucking me around, Ive paid a lot of money for this murder. HIT MAN And youll get one, trust me. Hit Man ushers her, once more, towards the front door. THE GIRL Remember, I know where you live. Hit man sighs, offended by The Girls attitude he abandons any pretence. HIT MAN Christ, are you suicidal?

THE GIRL What? HIT MAN I can't be arsed with this any more, I'm sick of humoring you. I killed your Dad, allright? You can't have your revenge, or your money but you can, fuck off. Hit Man gestures to the door THE GIRL I don't believe this, I knew something wasn't right about you HIT MAN Oh, How perceptive. Look, I really don't want to kill you right now; I've got a soup on the go, they don't collect the bins till... The Girl interrupts the hit man. He decides to kill her. THE GIRL The reak of gin, and that cheap suit, I mean you don't even look like the real thing Hit man chuckles and picks up the television remote. HIT MAN This is your dad's suit, your mum threw in on the deal. The Girl stares in disbelief at the hit man for a moment; Hit Man turns up the television in preparation. THE GIRL You sick fuck! Behind his back HIT MAN pulls the Dishcloth from his belt. HIT MAN You're the one reveling in this Shit; I'm a psychopath; got the certificate and everything, what's your excuse? The pair are seen in long shot. The Girl seethes with anger. HIT MAN turns up the television once more and tosses the remote. Their voices are all but drowned out by the sound of the television. THE GIRL Ill fucking kill you! HIT MAN tugs the dishcloth taught behind his back and sighs.

HIT MAN Don't tell someone you're going to kill them, just.. The Girl spins round looking for a weapon, Hit Man pulls the dishcloth tight across her throat, they struggle as the life slowly drains from The Girl. HIT MAN (CONT'D) ...Do it mid-sentence, otherwise they know it's coming. moment. The Girl finally collapses, Hit man walks out of frame for a He returns with a plastic bag and roll of duct tape, he pulls the bag over her head and peels off a length of tape. The roar of the television fades to silence FADE TO BLACK SCENE 7 - 'equilibrium restored' FADE FROM BLACK HIT MAN sits on his sofa cheerfully counting his money next to an empty bowl of soup, an after dinner cigarette dangles from his lip. Non Diegetic music starts and continues over credits. CUT TO BLACK