Dirt
- Year:
- 2008
- 82 min
- 3,577 Views
IN BLACK:
The sound of a shovel into dirt.
FADE IN:
On the shovel, the hands grasping it. Reveal DON KONKEY, of
indeterminate age, a schlub, digging a hole. Wears a “MILF
HUNTER” T-shirt. Tubby, greasy hair, mouthbreather.
Expressionless. His clothes are filthy, you can almost smell
him.
He stops digging. Examines his work. It appears to be a
grave. He lays down in the hole. Begins covering himself
with dirt.
Don covers himself thoroughly. He is now buried.
CUT TO:
INT. STAPLES CENTER
A basketball game in progress. An insanely hot woman sits
courtside, wearing a teensy-weensy wife beater and a little
denim skirt. She smiles at PRINCE TYREESE, superstar point
guard and multi-million dollar endorsement magnet. He’s
about to bang a three-pointer, but instead drives inside and
SLAMS the ball, hangs from the net staring at the woman. She
uncrosses her legs and parts them.
INT. STAPLES CENTER LOCKER ROOM
Prince Tyreese stands there naked, 6’8’’ and tatted, his BOYS
lounging around him.
He leans over and whispers something, dispatches one of them.
INT. STAPLES CENTER
Courtside, post game. Tyreese’s homeboy talks to the hot
chick in the bg...
While in the foreground, Tyreese poses for the cameras with
his perfect, camera-ready FAMILY, beautiful WIFE and FOUR
KIDS.
INT. STAPLES CENTER LOCKER ROOM
Tyreese, dressed, leaves the locker room.
As he walks out, the LOCKER ROOM ATTENDANT picks up his
cellphone...
2.
EXT. STAPLES CENTER
A HUMMER pulls up. Tyreese’s ride.
INT. BLACK SUV
SUV GUY watches the Hummer pass, makes a call.
SUV GUY:
Houston, we have a booty call.
EXT. LUCY SPILLER’S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING
LUCY SPILLER is looking into the mirror in her office,
changing her clothes while talking on the phone. Behind her
are blown-up tabloid covers, documenting the rise and
(mostly) fall of the rich and infamous.
Lucy is Executive Editor of NOW Magazine (like PEOPLE), THE
BOMB (like an even trashier ENQUIRER), and has a decent-sized
media empire at her fingertips. She’s good-looking, late 30searly
40s, and has maximized her assets. She is in the
process of putting on a Dries Van Noten suit, a fair amount
of her Pilates-ripped body showing. She moves with the
voracious, muscled efficiency of a tiger shark.
She smiles, looks like they got this guy.
LUCY:
Okay. Call me if anything changes.
CUT TO:
DON KONKEY’S POV
Back in his “grave.” We see Prince Tyreese and the Hottie
cavorting into frame. Devouring each other.
They stumble into the hot tub, and in a flash she is topless
and riding the all-time high scorer...
Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce...
She reaches the top of her bounce and we -FREEZE
FRAME:
On the hot model/hooker, perched in ecstasis, one arm in the
air like a bronc rider, her full lips wet and parted, caught
for eternity at the height of sexual bliss.
DON’S POV
Tyreese and the Hooker, from the dirt and leaves. We hear
his labored, rhythmic breathing, hear the whisper-quiet
shutter of the camera as-
3.
MUSIC COMES UP:
The Out Crowd’s “Son Of A B*tch (Plastic Ear Infection Mix)”
And now we see the scene before us -UN-
FREEZE:
And FREEZE again, over and over, as he captures the scene
before him; the rapturous, whimpering Hottie, the grim and
determined Tyreese, unaware his fate is about to change
forever.
These include:
--Tyreese spanks her.
--She spanks him.
--He “chokes” her.
--She fastens on a strap-on, grins wickedly...
CUT TO:
A crowd gathered around the red carpet. A caste system of
(from lowest to highest) fans, paparazzi, “legit” press, and
the be-jewelled actors and above-the-liners walking the
carpet.
Working the press area with deep intensity is Lucy Spiller.
We MOVE with her as she tells photographers and videographers
what to get/do/look for...
LUCY:
(to a videographer)
Just get anything unflattering.
Back-fat, asses, saddlebags, bra
straps, bellies...
She moves to a photographer.
LUCY (CONT’D)
Damon.
She moves to an ON-CAMERA TABLOID REPORTER.
4.
LUCY (CONT’D)
Ask Carlo about the thing with the
nanny...see if you can catch him
off guard, he’ll be expecting
softballs.
She sees Don off to the side, trying to eat some chili-cheese
fries while standing up. Loaded down with all his gear.
Still filthy from his earlier assignment, still with the MILF
HUNTER t-shirt, but now with a deeply rumpled old sport coat
over it. Lucy looks annoyed.
LUCY (CONT’D)
Don.
DON:
Hey, Lucy. Want some chili-fries?
LUCY:
God, no.
(sotto)
Did you get Prince Tyreese?
DON:
(regular voice)
Yes.
LUCY:
(sotto)
You got everything?
DON:
(regular voice)
I got them having sex for two
hours. And the coke. And he
choked her. And the strap-on.
Lucy puts up her hands to silence him.
LUCY:
Don...not so loud.
DON:
‘Kay.
LUCY:
And remember, this one’s between
you and me. I don’t want Alex to
see this footage until I figure out
how to break it.
DON:
‘Kay.
Don stares at her legs. He puts a handful of chili fries in
his mouth. Like he’s watching a movie.
5.
LUCY:
Don?
DON:
Yeah.
LUCY:
Get candids of Holt and Julia, all
right?
DON:
‘Kay.
INT. EXPEDITION LIMO -- NIGHT
JULIA MYERS, 27, superstarlet, queen of Young Hollywood,
looks distractedly out the limo window as they creep along
Hollywood Boulevard.
Her boyfriend, HOLT McLAREN, 33, a better-looking Sean Penn,
vogues to the lighted make-up mirror, pulls at his carefully
crafted spiky bedhead.
MICHELLE, their driver, turns around and regards the couple.
MICHELLE:
You ready?
HOLT:
Ask her, she’s the star.
JULIA:
One sec.
She takes out a lip gloss, doesn’t even look in the mirror,
applies it in one move and hands it to Holt.
JULIA (CONT’D)
You mind? I don’t have any
pockets.
And indeed she doesn’t. The gown is one piece of sheer,
clingy fabric.
She steps from the limo out on to the red carpet.
MUSIC:
“Ride It On” by Mazzy Star...As her Jimmy Choo-clad feet touch down on the red carpet.
Holt climbs out after her, having to slide across the seat to
get there, so his exit is not nearly so graceful. We
recognize his camera face from his vogue-ing in the mirror.
6.
Posters and print ads from the movie everywhere; “Subliminal
Velocity,” all ice-blue with guns and futuristic wardrobe.
They face a SEA OF FLASHES. The “LEGIT” PRESS elbow the
PAPARAZZI...they’re all out in full force, screaming, waving,
flashing, taping...we see but don’t hear their hysterics.
Spittle on the corners of mouths, grabbing at competitors,
faces contorted in desperate pleas for a shot...
SUPER-DUPER SLO-MO now, as they walk up the red carpet,
holding hands. They are the essence of beauty, symmetry,
love.
RETURN TO SPEED -- EAR-SHATTERING SOUND
As the PAPARAZZI scream...and behind them, the deafening
Greek Chorus that is THE FANS, set up behind ropes that are
set up behind ropes. They scream for one glance, one wave,
knowing that their Gods will never make it over to them for
an autograph.
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"Dirt" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/dirt_36>.
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