scripts fiction myspace blog email

excerpted from The Will a short dramatic script by Andrew M. Reichart ...Jack pulls open the nightstand drawer, grabs the pistol, chambers a round. GRANDFATHER Not that, you maniac! He laughs himself into a coughing fit. GRANDFATHER, CONT'D You want to leave a goddamn mess? Jack lowers the pistol. GRANDFATHER, CONT'D That's yours, boy, but wait till they read my will. Jack drops the pistol into the nightstand drawer. GRANDFATHER, CONT'D Hey! JACK Doesn't matter. GRANDFATHER You want my nurse to blow her own head off? Jack unloads the pistol, scattering the bullets into the drawer full of medicines. GRANDFATHER, CONT'D You leave me with a nice last memory, Jack. "C'mere, sonny, blow my brains out!" JACK What the hell do you expect me to think? GRANDFATHER How many sonofabitches would even dream of shooting their own grandfather in the goddamn head? JACK I was going to shoot you in the heart. GRANDFATHER (laughing) You're a good kid, Jack. CONT'D