IF IT BLEEDS IT LEADS

INT. LIVING ROOM- NIGHT

Dark and stormy conditions. Inside a gargantuan living space

stands ROGER, 40’s, pops blood vessels as a hobby, needs the
spotlight more than air. Roger rips a compatriot on his phone
while a news story plays on the television.

ROGER
Listen to that, will ya?

Roger holds the phone up to the blaring television screen. A

dedicated and dour reporter, DAVE, breaks a horrid story.

DAVE (ON TELEVISION)

This marks the hatchet killer’s
third victim in as many nights.
This time, a female college
student. Lock your doors and stay
vigilant.

Roger puts the phone back up to his ear.

ROGER
A serial killer? With a nickname?
AND a schoolgirl victim? That’s
Pulitzer shit!
(watches TV)
Your lethargic camera carrying lost
me the scoop.

Roger lowers the phone while his cameraman gives a passionate

defense. He doesn’t listen, waits until the line goes silent
before re-raising the phone to his ear.

ROGER (CONT’D)
I don’t care if the camera weighs a
ton, hit the gym, get my headline.

Roger glares at the television with abject hatred.

ROGER (CONT’D)
That should be my face on the news.
Not dour Dave.

The phone echoes static, the camera man weighs in again to an

inattentive audience.

A CREEK echoes from inside the house. Roger hangs up the

phone, curious. He tiptoes around the house, cautious.
 2.

KITCHEN- NIGHT

Roger scans the kitchen table, nothing unusual. He spots the

side door- it’s unlocked. He stares at it, zombie-like,
relocks it.

Another long drawn out CREEEEEK echoes from upstairs. Roger

darts his head in that direction, cowers. He reaches into a
cabinet drawer, removes a CHEF’S KNIFE.

STAIRCASE- NIGHT

Roger freezes at the bottom of the stairs, peers up at a

seemingly endless, darkened climb. Thunder erupts, rain hails
in buckets. Roger gulps, makes the ascent one achingly slow,
creeky step at a time.

He reaches the top, hears another CREEK to his right. He

jolts at the sound, nearly drops the knife. He collects
himself, opens the door to his right an inch at a time.

OFFICE SPACE- NIGHT

Roger enters a pitch black room, can make out a vague outline
of a figure in the corner. He panics, flails for the light
switch, flings it on.

Light floods the area, blinding. The figure is revealed to be

a life size cut out of Roger himself, self-idol worship.

Roger lowers his knife, sits against the wall, laughs relief.
He turns to return to the hallway. Before he turns the light
off, a MASKED MAN moves, silently, from behind the cut out,
with hatchet in hand.

The sound of footsteps scurry through the hall, followed by a

loud, blood curling SCREAM.

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. LIVING ROOM- DAY

The living room is taped off, a POLICEMAN canvasses it while

the television blares. Once again, Dave leads off a story.

DAVE
The hatchet killer strikes again,
this time, impacting our beloved
reporting community.
(MORE)
 3.

DAVE (CONT’D)
Local field reporter Roger Bonin
was brutally slain in his suburban
home late last night...

The sound muffles out. A picture of Roger replaces Dave,

front and center. Spotlight secured, wish granted.

THE END