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by John (rdmazer@bama.ua.edu)

Rated: R   Genre: Comedy   User Review:

This short screenplay is a very rough draft of one I hope to have finished by the end of December. At the University of Alabama (yes, I know, forget you read that), Tom Cherones, the director of the first 80-something episodes of Seinfeld, will be teaching a production course in which the students will cast, direct, and edit a short film. I am not eligible for the class, as I don't have the proper credits, but to determine what they will be shooting they are holding a screenplay competition for which all students here are eligible. Thus, much of this is regional, but aside from the locations, the references should still make sense in the context of the dialogue. Some of the formatting is incorrect, and it is incomplete. Much of it will need to be trimmed so that it can meet the 20-30 page criteria. Regarding that, it is already quite apparent to me the first scene that will have to go, but I just wanted to include it in case anybody goes particularly wild over it and feels it just has to stay. Anyway, constructive criticism of format and content would be greatly appreciated, including some ideas as to how to end it.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.


Craig uses his computer on his otherwise empty desk in his
otherwise empty room. Brown boxes are piled. The room is a
double, and neither mattress yet has any bedding. The door
opens and Craig stands with a smile. His roommate enters,
followed by his mother. Craig opens his mouth, but before he
can get a word out his roommate turns to his mother and
speaks to her in French. Craig smiles and nods, showing the
palm of his hand as a sort of wave. He returns to his
computer. His roommate opens the window. Craig quickly
looks at him as he does this and then turns back to his
computer. His roommate rolls out a rug made of something
resembling grass. Craig glances at this, then back at his
computer. An older guy enters the half-opened door. He has
a slight Southern accent.
                       OLDER GUY (to Craig)
Hey guys, my name’s Walker. I’ll
be your RA for the year. I don’t
know if you’ve noticed but I’ve
sorta got a cowboy theme goin’
around the floor so feel free to
call me Texas Ranger!
The young man laughs, offers his hand to Craig to shake. He
leaves. Bugs fly on and around Craig’s face as he continues
to use the computer.
Craig wakes up to an alarm. He flails his hands around
behind him to turn it off, but he doesn’t have an alarm;
it’s his roommate’s. His roommate continues to sleep while
Craig stares at him. Craig creeps out of bed and stands for
a moment. He inches towards his roommate’s side of the room
and starts to extend his arm. His roommate shuffles. Craig
runs back to his bed. His roommate gets out of bed, puts on
his shoes, and exits, leaving on the alarm. Craig jolts
upwards angrily.
Craig takes notes.


“Get on Board” signs are abundant. Tables are lined up next
to one another. Each one has a tablecloth with a banner in
front of it, advertising a diverse selection of student
organizations. Craig wears a nametag. He approaches a stand
with a banner reading “College Democrats.” Another kid with
a nametag reading “Nick” walks up next to Craig. On the
other side of the table is a boy with a suit and tie.
                       ADS REP
Craig. Nick. Donald McCarthy,
nice to meet you both.
Craig offers Donald his hand, but Donald ignores this and
puts his hand on Craig’s shoulder.
You’re freshmen?
Craig nods.
Excellent. It's always good to
see new students taking an
interest. Would you consider
yourselves members of any
political parties?
Craig shrugs in confusion.
I'm a conservative.
Craig looks embarrassed. Donald notices this and redirects
his attention towards Craig.
You don’t have to answer.
Obviously you’re for a better
America. And if you’re for a
better America, you’re kinda shaky
about the way things are goin, ya
know? Let me get you some
Donald hands Craig several brochures.
There are absolutely no
obligations, unless you’re


                       DONALD (cont'd)
informed, educated, and want to
change our school’s mascot for a
better America.
Craig is confused. Donald turns towards someone off-screen.
What’s that? Yeah, sure, gimme
one second!
Donald makes his way off-screen.
                       DONALD (to Craig)
I have faith in you, Craig. I
look forward to seeing you at our
first meeting on Monday at 6:30 in
the student union.
Donald walks off. Craig looks around for Chris to no avail.
A man, similar in stature to Donald, approaches him.
                       MATT (to OS Donald)
Donald, I just hear you claim to
have faith in something?
No response. Matt smiles.
                       MATT (to Craig)
I'm sorry, "Craig?"
Craig nods apprehensively.
Matt Worth, president of the
United Republicans of America,
Tuscaloosa chapter. Noticed you
talking with my friend, Donald.
Good guy. Good guy. A little…ya
know, a little out there, but, a
good guy.
Matt smiles for a long time.
Let me ask you a question. Would
you expect your parents to throw
you in front of a moving car?
Donald approaches.


No, he wouldn’t expect it. That’s
the problem when they do.
Even if he knew, it's not like
he'd do anything about it.
Yes he would. He'd be prepared.
Yeah? What would he do?
He'd say, "Parents, I'm onto you.
Now , I'm your son. So don't
throw me in front of a moving car.
                       MATT (to Craig)
Look, forget all this. It was a
rhetorical question anyway, which
means I already know the answer to
it, but…I see something in you. I
see someone who is willing to
trust those who hold his best
interests at heart. Now America
has a glorious past, am I wrong?
Craig shrugs.
Now we as UA students have to ask
ourselves how to preserve the ways
of the past for future
generations, and a great way to
start would be to embrace the
school’s mascot.
Oh no you don't, Matt. It's an


It clearly represents the school’s
longstanding favoring of the
Republican Party. Even on a
simple level it promotes
inequality, which as we all know
is inherently Un-American.
No, you're un-American!
It gives you a clear edge in
promoting the United Republicans
across campus, like tricking 3,000
people into coming to one of your
meetings because you put an
elephant with a football on your
It's just a coincidence.
Craig is now physically caught between the two.
Craig, I’ve said it before and
I’ll say it again with great
confidence: I believe in you. Vote
to disband the school’s mascot.
Donald slaps his organization’s sticker on Craig’s shirt.
Look at me, Craig. To uphold our
country’s glorious past into the
present and future, show your
support for our mascot.
Matt slaps a sticker on Craig’s other shoulder. Craig walks
away as they continue to argue.
A coincidence? I can’t believe
you pulled that. Thinking people
don’t believe in coincidence!
Problem with you, Mr. Thinker, is
that you’re all think and no act.
That’s what I do. I’m an actor!


A girl with a notepad approaches.
                       GIRL (to Matt)
Would you like to sign up for the
theater program?
Ooh, lemme see that.
As Craig leaves, hands slap stickers all over his body.
Various stickers cover Craig's clothes, many of which are
contradictory. He resigns to a bench. He stares at the
ground. A group is heard talking in the distance.
Well I guess that’s true, but I
don’t think the abundance of beer
on campuses is why college is in
itself a flawed system.
Craig looks up.
I just thought college parties
would be a bit more refined before
Okay, I was reading Beckett, and
his premise is that language is a
flawed form of communication.
Oh…oh, I get it, sorta like
Chris’s ass?
Group laughs.
I swear, Barton, even though
you’re a bastard, your humor
carries a depth.
The group passes Craig. Chris's shoe falls off. He does not


Ok, Barton, answer me
this…professors use language to
express their ideas to us,
Would I be wrong in saying that
tests are comprised of language?
Fuck Chris, don’t pull some crazy
shit on me.
I love it when Chris uses the
Socratic method.
Now if what I’ve said is true, it
follows that college is a flawed
form of education.
So what should the professors do,
dance at us?
They all laugh.
We'd get just as much out of it.
Oh, by the way, your shoe's over
Oh! I didn’t even reali—
The group looks back. Craig holds Chris's shoe in his hand
with hope.
Oh, thanks man. You’re a


      (to Craig)
Don't mind him; he's not a fan of
the whole language thing.
Group laughs. Chris pauses and looks at Craig’s
sticker-filled shirt.
Nice style, man.
Chris’s messenger bag is shown. Decorated with buttons with
various catchphrases, it resembles Craig's shirt.
It’s an interesting statement. I’m
Chris. Barton’s the one you
should have to be told to not have
to mind.
Craig looks puzzled.
He's in remedial English.
The mood is cheerful. Barton, Nora, and Amanda eat fries.
Chris and Craig eat cheeseburgers. Amanda takes out a
Ok, Craig, I need your picture
since you're the new...inductee.
Craig half-smiles as she takes it.
Alright! Cool. Check my blog out
later tonight.
So anyway, Chris lost our bet so I
made him wear my belt all day.
Yeah? How was that, Chris?
Ya know, I kinda liked it.


I never knew you had that side to
Who would’ve?
Did you feel like you for the
first time in your whole life?
I felt like…like a new me.
I’d hate to see the effect my
pants would have. Ya know, the
ones with the diamonds?
Oh yeah. Those. You plan on
wearing them tomorrow?
They all laugh, breaking the sarcasm.
      (coming off a
No, but seriously, gays are pretty
Silence. Everyone is confused.
I mean, we’re laughing and stuff,
but we’re really all on the same
Oh, definitely.

Craig is still confused. Trying to revive the laughter,
Chris chuckles in spurts.
Well, don’t go broadcasting that
message at Bryant-Denny.


Oh, god. Idiots here. Yesterday
I was using the stall in my
floor's bathroom--
Doin a little of the sit-down,
Pause. Barton laughs softly in self-deprecation. Amanda
and Norah both laugh at this. Amanda eyes Craig at the tail
of her laughter. Craig smiles politely.

I was in the stall because I get
nervous at the urinals—
God, you're so neurotic.
Yeah I know! And written on the
toilet paper dispenser in very
elegant sharpie is the beautifully
poetic mantra, “The South Will
Rise Again!” It’s like-
      (puts his flat
       hand to his lips,
       as if telling a
-"Hey buddy, not quite."
But that's nothing new.
Okay, but then...somebody crossed
the comment out, drew an arrow
next to it, and wrote “Idiot.”


So I don’t know; it made me kinda
optimistic about the direction of
the campus.
Oh, definitely.
But then I thought, wait a
minute—I feel all comforted
because I have representation in
Paty’s bathroom graffiti battle?
Nora and Amanda laugh.
It’s like…this important message
through such immature means. I
wanted to tell the guy, ya know,
“Buddy, there’re slightly better
ways of going about this.”
Too bad you don’t know who the guy
is so you can’t actually tell him
Yeah I know, that’s why I wrote it
on the toilet paper dispenser.
Yeah, and I didn't have a sharpie
so I had to go back to the room to
get one.
And by the time I got back some
guy was using the stall and I had
to wait like 10 minutes.
You just stood there and waited?


Well, what else am I going to do
on a Saturday night?
Amanda laughs, again eyeing Craig. Craig smiles again.

Knowing you, I bet you had to wash
your hands after the second trip.
What makes you say that?
Cause you're so crazy!
Did you not?
No I did. And knowing you, you’re
probably going to make it into
some ordeal.
                       BARTON (to Chris)
So if all you were doing was
pissing, how could you see what
was written on the toilet paper
It was on top. Why are you so
intent on proving I was shitting,
Cause I can just see why you’d
want to cover it up.
K, well I appreciate it.


So, anybody see The Daily Show
last night?
Craig sits alone at his computer. He’s on Amanda’s blog,
which has a picture of Craig looking unenthusiastic with the
heading, “Coolest Guy Ever!” Craig half-looks at the site
with equal enthusiasm. A message pops-up that reads
something like, “No wireless connections could be found.”
Craig fiddles with the wires, but it is to no avail. He
jerks the wires. Still no result.

A puzzled look grows over his face.
His eyes widen.
Craig enters in a state of panic and walks up to the desk.
An already annoyed employee awaits. He hands her a note
reading, "I've just realized I can't speak. Please help."
Hm. Okay. I'm going to give you
the Student Services' email
address. That way you can contact
Frustrated, Craig studies her.
"My internet is not working."
Uh huh. Well computer support is
right up this hill...


A second employee enters from the back room.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
What's the problem?
Craig points to his note.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Oh, don't have him go to computer
support for that.
Craig looks relieved.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
There're plenty of working
computers in the library.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
No, I'm kidding!
Craig sighs.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
How did this happen?
Craig shrugs.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Yeah? When did you...notice?
"I don't think I've spoken since
I've been here."
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Yeah. Um, what you need to do is
see a doctor. You a freshman?
Craig nods.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Okay, you know where the hospital
Craig shakes his head in embarrassment.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Ew. Um, ok. Let’s see. Go up to
University Boulevard. You know
where that is?


Apologetically, Craig shakes his head again. Employee 2
looks down and breathes out.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Damnit. Whew-kay. Alright, head
up to the Quad. You do know the
Craig smiles and, after some hesitation, nods timidly.
                       EMPLOYEE 2
Okay, walk past the Quad until you
reach a major street. Walk left
on that road and it’ll eventually
be on your right. It’s a big
building with a huge sign. Okay?
Craig nods.
Craig sits on a bench. He dials a number on his cell phone.
His mother picks up.
                       CRAIG'S MOM
Hey, sweetie! How’s everything
going down there?
Craig strains to speak. Three females walk up and talk
amongst themselves. They giggle.
                       CRAIG'S MOM
Crraiiigg?? What's going on?
Craig's face is red as he tries to force the words out. The
girls giggle louder.
                       CRAIG'S MOM
Okay, Craig. Nice to talk to you.
More giggling.
                       CRAIG'S MOM
Glad you're having fun, whatever
you're doing. Stay out of
The girls walk away and Craig sits, staring ahead in


The thing I want to know is, when
it comes to abortion, why are
conservatives such pussies?
The two girls laugh. Chris laughs while Craig points to his
own gaped mouth and shakes his head.
                       CHRIS (to Craig)
I know, I know. He’s crazy.
                       OFFSCREEN EMPLOYEE
As Chris rises, Craig grabs his arm while opening his mouth
wider and shaking his head violently.
Yeah, man, you'll get used to him.
Chris leaves. Amanda smiles at Craig. Craig looks at her
intently and points to his mouth. Amanda laughs. Chris
returns with a cheeseburger. Craig envisions a waiter
pouring the group cups of poison from an obvious, cartoonish
bottle, and they drink without noticing.
How's your spam sandwich?
See, I’m working my way up to
being a vegetarian, so the less
actual meat the better.
I'd rather eat meat.
Coz look at it! It’s fake,
processed crap; just a bunch of
random shit mashed together to
give the impression of
Amanda eyes Craig.


The group walks in twos. Amanda walks over to Craig.
You seem authentic to me.
Craig shakes his head.
I sometimes worry I'm not.
Craig shrugs neutrally.
Aw, that's sweet.
Can you...feel people?
Craig rubs Amanda’s shoulder. Amanda doesn’t respond to
this, but just keeps walking. Craig looks confused. Amanda
turns to him.
I think I can. You ever get that
feeling that you just know
somebody? That somehow, even if
you are in a foreign place and
totally disconnected with
everything you ever knew to be
true, one person can make you feel
like you’ll never be alone?
I feel that with you, Craig.
Craig nods slowly.
Well I better go. I hope I didn’t
freak you out or anything. I have
a tendency to do that.
Craig forces a smile.


Craig enters his vacant room. His roommate's rug is gone.
I can...my voice. Oh my god.
That's amazing.
His roommate enters. Craig is ecstatic.
Hey, man. Something very
different about the room here!
Infected by Craig's mood, his roommate smiles.
Yes, had to go.
Hey...you can speak English!
So...what's your name?
Stefan. You?
I'm Craig.
So why'd you get rid of the rug?
Pricked feet.
Slightly annoyed, Craig nods.


Craig struggles to take notes. He raises his hand.
      (pointing to the
What's a Deuce Ex Machina?
Well, in modern times it’s taken
on the definition of an improbable
device in a work of fiction that
appears abruptly to resolve a
The student in front of Craig scoffs. Craig scoffs back
mockingly. The student turns around. He is identical to
Craig. Craig stares for a moment in shock.
Who are you?
                       CRAIG 2
Your better half.
So...I'm schizophrenic?
                       CRAIG 2
No. And wrong term.
                       CRAIG 2
What do you mean, "Whatever?"
Don't you take Psychology?
Craig looks around.
Sorry, I have ADD.
Craig notices people looking at him and talks quiter.
Can we talk about this later?
                       CRAIG 2
No. I'm your Deuce Ex Machina. Or
however you pronounce it.


Where've I...?
Craig 2 begrudgingly points to Craig’s notebook. Craig
looks down and reads for a moment, then looks back up.
                       CRAIG 2
Are you an idiot?
Craig looks around again.
Sure, now please shut up.
                       CRAIG 2
Listen, aren't you happy? I'm
here to solve your problems.
Should I tip you?
Teacher makes his way over to the duo.
      (whispering to
Oh, god.
What's the conversation about?
Sorry, my twin wanted to sit in
and I told him, “Ok, but you
better not talk,” and now…
                       CRAIG 2
I'm his Deuce Ex Machina.
Well, well. Class, we have a
special guest with us today. It
Teacher points at Craig and twirls his finger.


Craig’s Deuce Ex Machina is in
attendance. Guys why don’t you
head on up to the front.
No no no no no. Can we
just…what’s uh…
      (pointing to board)
Come on, get up there.
Craig 2 smiles. Craig is sweating. They walk up to the
So, before a Deuce Ex Machina can
resolve your problems, you need
problems that require resolving.
Craig, what’s your dilemma?
      (looking down)
He's here.
Scattered laughter among the class. Craig grins.
                       CRAIG 2
Up until yesterday he couldn't
A student raises his hand. Craig is red and looks sad.
Did you go to the hospital?
                       CRAIG 2
He couldn't find it.
Didn't know where the Quad was.
Scattered laughter.
                       STUDENT 2
What the hell?


I didn't know the little grass
patch had a name.
                       STUDENT 2
Still, you go to school here.
      (looking down)
                       STUDENT 3
So, if he can talk, why are you
here now?
                       CRAIG 2
Excellent question. First, Craig,
allow me to inquire
                       CRAIG 2
Why do you think you weren't able
to talk?
Um...well, I assume now the rug.
                       CRAIG 2
The rug? What about the rug?
I don't know, allergies?
                       CRAIG 2
God, okay, his roommate has this
Stop, stop. Please. Stop.
                       CRAIG 2
Class, I am here because, while
his physical symptoms no longer
present themselves, the mental
cause remains.
Craig rolls his eyes.


                       CRAIG 2
As he stands before you, looking
harmless, in his mind he judges
you all.
                       STUDENT 2
Like how?
                       CRAIG 2
He thinks you're too confident.
That's ridiculous!
                       STUDENT 2
Man, I'm not confident. You're
just a pussy.
                       CRAIG 2
So true.
Huh. How about me?
I'll speak for myself: I think
you're very...teachery.
                       CRAIG 2
If by that you mean unable to
seperate a performance from a
Craig puts his hands over his face.
Oh my god. Oh my god.
Teacher approaches Craig, smiling.
Teacher pulls Craig's arms away from his face.
It's okay. I promise. It's


                       CRAIG 2
He thinks these things because
he’s scared. He makes no attempt
to improve anything, just sits
back comfortably and ridicules.
Okay, so what should I do about
                       CRAIG 2
Well...well, that's slightly
harder. Gimme a second.
Craig 2 starts to sniffle.
                       CRAIG 2
I uh, I have no idea. I have no
idea at all.
Stop. Being sad. Please.
                       CRAIG 2
I can't help it; I suck.
Student 3, looking sad, gets up from her seat. The teacher,
sitting on the desk next to her, reaches his arm out to
block her.
Let them be.
No you don’t. You were just being
honest. And loud. Just…plan your
delivery a little better next
time. Think constructively,
instead of…you know, airing a
checklist of my flaws and personal
thoughts to a classroom of
                       CRAIG 2
I will. I promise. I'm going to
lead a new life!
Craig 2 triumphantly marches out of the room. The door
closes behind him. The class applauds. Craig shakes his
head, and tries to hide a smile.


So I'm gonna shoot a movie.
I like...just thought about it
earlier today.
That's so cool. What's it going
to be about?
Well that was the hard part. But
I decided to base it on my
bathroom experience.
But it'll be more like one of
I just thought, ya know…gotta do
what I can to get the message out
So what's the plot?
Well, I didn’t want it to be
exactly what happened. I wanted
it to require a little
imagination, so I've decided to
have it star
a tennis ball.
A tennis ball?


Yeah, what happens is this tennis
ball goes, or I guess rolls, into
the bathroom, and notices on the
stall it says “The South Will Rise
Again,” but it’s been crossed out.
So he goes to his room and gets a
sharpie and then goes back into
the bathroom.
Yeah, but somebody’s in that
stall, so he has to wait for like
10 minutes.
You don't think a tennis ball will
be distracting?
Pff. If people don't get it,
that's their problem.
I thought you wanted to
communicate a message.
Yeah, well I’m not going to start
compromising my vision for some
But couldn’t some of those idiots
be the people you want to reach? I
mean, that’s it? You gonna refuse
revision, too?
It's called integrity.
It sounds surreal. What's the
tennis ball supposed to represent?


      (spinning 2 of his
       fingers around
       each other)
Well, it's like a cycle.
No reaction. His fingers spin slowly.
I get it!
You do?
Yeah, coz…okay, you’re trying to
get a message out there, but your
own needs, which include making
the character a tennis ball, ruin
that message. So it’s a cycle,
which is what the ball represents!
Your need to make him a ball is
the cause of your problems, but it
also represents those problems,
like you’re aware.
Yeah, yes. Yes.
So it started out as a way to
promote tolerance, but then it
stopped being that because you’re
trying to show off--
--but you’re making fun of
yourself for it, so it’s fine!
Yes! Yes! Thank god!
I'm excited! Let's go get some
tennis balls!


Target it is.
Um, I don’t really feel like going
to Target, so I think I’m just
gonna…sit this one out…if that’s
Long pause.
Dude, when did you become such a
Craig sits at his computer. Suddenly, the internet cuts
back on. He immediately receives an instant message that
reads, “hey, this is amanda,” from user (). He responds,
“hey.” She responds, “hey, what was with you today?” Craig
looks away from the computer.
Craig wakes up to the sound of his roommate getting out of
bed. He half-opens his eyes and can barely make out his
roommate's head as he walks into the hallway.
Stefan closes the door behind him.
Craig panics. He shuffles through his drawer and retrieves
a tape recorder.
                       CRAIG (into tape recorder)
Hello? Hello? Am I crazy?
He plays the tape and his voice is clear. He runs to the
door and opens it. He shouts. Stefan stands at the
entrance and stairs plainly. He has no ears.
Stefan tilts his head.


What the--
Craig passes a floormate who also has no ears.
Craig scurries out of an elevator and runs into two people
missing ears. They stare at Craig for a moment, and then
reach for his ears. He runs away.
Craig approaches a mass of people, all of whom have no ears.
He picks up a newspaper. A series of article titles flash,
including "Earless on Campus: What's happened to us?" "Sign
language classes booked," "Students buy brail for some
reason," and "Marie Antoinette delights!"


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