“The Chaos Factor”
by
Geoff Boccia
Feb. 2012
“The Chaos Factor”
Present day.
Black screen.
SOUND – Husker Du –
Makes No Sense At All.
Title (blue, gray, red)
FADE IN
INT. SHABBY APARTMENT - DAY
Minimal furniture.
Several cardboard boxes.
Short stacks of papers,
photos.
A bass guitar.
Music, lower volume.
The front door opens.
Enter JANIE. (25ish,
attractive)
JANIE
Greg? Are you here?
Some banging sounds,
shuffling of boxes.
GREG
(muffled) Minute!
JANIE
Where are you?
(indicates boxes and
photos)
What is this stuff?
ENTER GREG from hallway,
carrying box.
GREG
Just a bunch of shit from
the attic. Band stuff.
JANIE
Band stuff? You mean from
when you were
a kid? Like, school band?
GREG
(pointed glance)
Yes, gonna dust off the old
Tuba.
No, my old punk band, Kaos
Faktor.
I told you about that,
right?
JANIE
Um, no.
Punk band?
Like, Sum41?
(laughs)
GREG
Jesus
wept. No not that candy ass stuff.
Hardcore.
Eighties shit.
I told
you about this.
JANIE
Yeah,
no, you didn't.
When
you said you were in a band,
I
thought you meant like marching and stuff.
GREG
stops rummaging through box, looks slowly up at Janie.
GREG
So the
incessant Ramones and Minor Threat
and
Clash records I play were no indication
to you
that I was probably not a Glockenspiel player?
JANIE
(laughing)
Records.
HA! You don't even have any records.
You
mean the MP3s you play, old man?
Never
paid them any attention.
GREG
Hand me
that photo album.
What,
you never heard of them?
JANIE
hands over photo album.
JANIE
I've
heard of them, I think.
Just
never listened to them before.
I mean,
the stuff you play, most of it
I don't
really care for.
GREG
Get out
of my house, heathen!
You
would've freaked if you'd seen me then.
Probably
crossed the street and hoped
I
didn't get your scent.
JANIE
sits in chair across from Greg.
JANIE
Why are
you pulling all this stuff out?
GREG
shuffles through photos.
GREG
Happened
across it while looking for my heavy coat.
It's
been a while since I looked at this stuff.
Sometimes
I just pull it out and go through it.
JANIE
Does
this have anything to do with that call you got
last
night? The guy, the sick guy?
GREG
(not
really listening, staring at photo)
Hmm?
What? Oh, well, probably. He
was in
the band. Look how young!
JANIE
Do you
want to go out tonight?
Haley
and Ryan want to go to the Rubber Room.
GREG
Can I
pass? I just don't feel it tonight.
JANIE
(rolls
eyes)
Whatever.
I'm going out, though.
GREG
(absently)
Oh, have fun.
GREG
(CONT'D)
Where's
my damn phone? You seen it?
JANIE
On the
sofa, behind you.
You
sure you don't want to go out?
JANIE
stands.
GREG
stands, puts up finger to indicate that Janie wait, dials phone.
GREG
(into
phone)
Jared?
Hey, assclown.
(laughs)
Yeah, I know...
JANIE
I'm
gonna go get ready.
JANIE
walks toward door.
GREG
mouths goodbye, waves and turns away
GREG
(into
phone)
What?
Oh, nah, they're at their Mom's.
Hey,
listen, you get a call from Leo?
No
shit, damn shame, man. He says six months to a year.
So I
was thinking, we should get together, all of us,
you
know, one last time, as it were.
JANIE
looks back angrily, leaves closing door behind her.
GREG
(CONT'D)
Don't
ya think? Can you get up with Mikey?
I'll
call Leo and ask him if he's up for it.
I guess
we'll have to go up to Woodbridge, I
don't
think he can travel much.
Yeah,
you guys can drive down together, right?
Fuck
yes, man. It'll be great, get his spirits up, maybe.
GREG
sits on sofa, crosses legs, still on phone.
FADE
INTERIOR. POSH APARTMENT -
EVENING
JARED spins in chair, phone
at ear.
JARED
What's up, jerk-off?
What are you doin'?
Yeah? Sounds awful. That
shit will kill you, you know.
(laughs)
So, I got a call from Jinx.
You talk to Leo lately?
Yeah, I know, man. Bad
shit.
What is it...amyloidosis,
or something?
I never heard of it before.
But it's taking his ass out.
I can't believe he only has
six months or whatever.
Jinx thinks we should get
together, man.
In Woodbridge, 'cause Leo
probably can't travel.
I'll drive, dude. And get
us a hotel room.
Ok, as soon as I know when,
I'll call ya.
See ya, fag.
JARED drops the phone into
shirt pocket. He rotates back and forth in chair. He stands, walks to
a table. Picks up pill bottle, opens it, takes one pill. He looks
into a mirror with dead eyes.
CUT TO:
INTERIOR. DINGY APARTMENT –
DAY
LEO sits on bed, hands on
knees, shirtless. He is fighting nausea. His face is pale and lined.
A large bandage covers his right side, below his ribs. With great
effort, he stands and walks to bathroom. SOUNDS of RETCHING. A phone
RINGS.
LEO
Fuck. Just a minute,
goddammit.
LEO staggers from bathroom
to beside table. Picks up phone, checking caller id. Smiles warmly.
LEO
(into phone)
What's up, hero?
Oh, fine. Just doing some
therapeutic vomiting.
No, the cure, man. Makes me
feel like shit.
But it looks like this is
my last round of chemo, thank God.
What? When?
Oh, man, I'd love that,
sounds great.
All of you nut jobs? In one
place? I'll warn the mayor.
No, man, I'll be fine,
seriously. Just get down here. It'll be fuckin' awesome!
INTERIOR. CAR – DAY
Coffee cups
Duffel bags
JARED is driving.
MIKEY D. is passenger.
JARED
This should be fun, man!
Been a long time since I've seen either of those two.
MIKEY D.
(quietly)
Yeah.
Long pause.
MIKEY D.
What's he gonna be like?
Not all gnarled and fucked up looking, I hope.
I can't imagine him like
that.
JARED
Who, Jinx? He's always been
gnarled and fucked up looking.
MIKEY D.
Don't be an asshole. Leo. I
mean, he is fucking dying.
JARED
You can't be all fucking
morbid when we get there, man. I'm sure that is the last
thing he needs. You fucking
ex-junkies are always thinking about death and shit.
MIKEY D.
I am a recovering junkie,
dude. Not such thing as an ex-junkie. Anyway, what's the
deal on his disease or
whatever? No cure?
JARED
Jinx told me there isn't
anything left for them to do. He is done. Sucks.
MIKEY D.
He can't go to Europe or
India or some shit? I hear they have experimental shit
we can't have here in the
States.
JARED
I'm pretty sure he's
thought of everything he can. Besides, you don't want to go to
some backwards-ass quack
who injects you with elephant semen or whatever...
MIKEY D.
What the fuck, dude?
Elephant semen?
JARED
I read that some psycho
doctor in Bulgaria or someplace was injecting elephant
jizz in his patients. True
shit, man.
MIKEY D.
Forget that shit, dude.
JARED
You can't. It's elephant
semen.
MIKEY D.
(chuckles)
You're retarded. Seriously,
I don't know, man. I don't know if I can handle seeing him...
dying. I mean, that is
fucking black, man, as black
and bad as anything I can think of.
He was
a killer singer, this crazy screaming lunatic, always jumping all
over the place.
More
alive than anyone. I don't know, dude. It just hits you in the gut.
JARED
You
gotta stop talking like that. Don't be so fucking selfish. He is the
one dying, not you.
Give
him a good send-off, not a bunch of morbid stupid shit. I don't like
it either, dude, but
we
can't go in there and be like “Wow, man, this really sucks! You are
gonna be dead in a few
months.
Pass the salt.” Get your shit together.
MIKEY
D.
You're
right, I know. Just sucks, is all.
They
ride in silence for a long moment.
MIKEY
D.
Elephant
jizz. What the fuck, man.
INTERIOR.
HOTEL LOBBY – EVENING
MIKEY D.
and JARED are standing at the reception desk speaking with the hotel
attendant. MIKEY D. is looking around the lobby in mild
embarrassment, JARED is pulling out credit card and signing hotel
receipts. They both have duffel bags slung on their shoulders.
JARED
(to
hotel employee)
Can I
get a room on a lower floor?
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
I don't
think we have anything else, sir. Let me see...
(pauses,
types on keyboard, looking at screen)
No,
nothing lower, sir. We have a convention this weekend.
JARED
(absently)
Oh
yeah? Of what?
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
The
blind, sir.
MIKEY
D.
(turning)
What?
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
(smiling
thinly)
The
blind, sir. Persons who cannot see.
MIKEY
D.
(tightly)
I know
what blind means, thanks. But they have conventions? I mean, that is
surprising. I can't imagine for what. Like a support thing? “Hey,
I'm blind, too. Let's drink coffee and tell blind stories.”?
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
I think
it's more of a convention for blind persons to see new things to make
their lives a bit easier.
JARED
Feel
things.
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
I'm
sorry?
JARED
Feel
things. You said “see” things. They are blind. You might want to
remember that when someone comes up and asks you for directions to
the can.
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE
(smiling)
Oh, I
see, yes. So far they have been very easy to deal with.
MIKEY
D.
You
were expecting what, a riot? Attacks on hotel personnel? “Yes,
officer, there is one of the culprits now, wrestling that Ficus tree
to the ground. Pepper spray him!”
JARED
Does
pepper spray work on blind people?
MIKEY
D.
I don't
know. Good question. We should ask one of them.
JARED
Don't
know how that question will go over, dude. Might make them a tad
nervous if you go over there and ask that. Besides, they can smell
ex-junkies. Excuse me, recovering junkies.
HOTEL
EMPLOYEE looks sharply up, alarmed.
JARED
Oh,
don't worry. He was addicted to gay sex. He's in recovery now.
MIKEY
D.
Jesus
Christ, Jared! You asshole.
JARED
I am
his sponsor. I will make sure he doesn't rub up against any of the
blind people. Or the Ficus
trees.
MIKEY
D.
He is
kidding.
JARED
That's
true. I can't keep him away from Ficus trees, no matter what I try. I
suppose I'll have to
get the
horse tranquilizers. Only thing that can keep a gay sex addict from
Ficus molestation is
strong
horse tranquilizers.
CUT
TO: WIDE SHOT
MIKEY D.
turns and walks to middle of lobby, muttering. Jared is completing
the check-in.
CUT
TO: MEDIUM SHOT
A blind
man walks toward MIKEY D. who nods, then winces.
MIKEY
D.
Good
afternoon.
BLIND
MAN
Hello.
JARED
approaches carrying hotel papers and key.
JARED
Ok, all
set. Let's get up to the room and...
From
behind MIKEY D. and JARED
GREG
Look at
these two degenerates!
GREG
walks in. JARED and MIKEY D. turn toward him.
MIKEY
D.
(smiling)
Look at
you, man! You look good, dude. Happy.
JARED
Jinx!
You old fucker.
GREG
No, not
Jinx. Not for a long time, anyway. Call me Greg, man.
JARED
Don't
know if I can do that. It'll take some getting used to.
MIKEY D.
hugs GREG. JARED spins GREG around, hugs him.
GREG
So you
guys decided to come a day early as well, I see.
MIKEY
D.
Yeah, I
want to go back to the old stomping grounds, see the sights...
JARED
And I
can stop in on a client. Haven't seen the guy face-to-face in a
couple of years.
GREG
We
should grab dinner somewhere, then. I wonder if Filomena's is still
open. Get some gnocchi
and
some risotto.
JARED
Shit! I
remember that place. You took us there a couple of times. They always
made us sit in the
little
alcove thing in the back by the kitchen. Good food, though.
MIKEY
D.
I don't
remember that place. Where was it?
GREG
Wisconsin
Avenue. Just off M street. Next to the canal.
MIKEY
D.
Hmm.
Doesn't ring a bell. But, hey, I was fucked up most of the time.
GREG
I'm
gonna check in. Meet you guys in the lobby?
JARED
Ok,
cool.
CUT
TO:
INT.
HOTEL ROOM – DAY
GREG is
unpacking his suitcase.
SOUND –
a cel phone RINGS
GREG
(looking
at caller id)
Shit.
(answers
phone)
Yeah?
Stop. What, now? Ok...
Hmm.
I'm sorry, but I am in DC. (pause) Well, that's not my fault. I
should have told you?! (pause) No, that's not how this works. You
said you had to take the kids to your Mom's this weekend, so I
decided to take a little road trip to see Leo. I do not have to “run
things by you”. We are divorced. (pause) Look, I gotta go. Bye.
GREG
angrily disconnects. He throws open suitcase on the dresser, turns,
walks toward window.
SOUND –
cel phone RINGS
GREG
checks caller id. He looks up, shaking his head.
GREG
(answering
phone)
Hi,
sweetie! (pause) Well, no, honey, I am in DC. I wish I could. You
know I always want to spend time with you, but I am visiting some
people. (pause) No, Mommy didn't tell me that.
(pause)
I'm sorry, kiddo. I'll be back in a couple of days, we can be
together then, ok? (pause)
Ok,
honey. Kisses for you and your brother and sister. Bye.
GREG
makes as though to throw the phone against the wall but checks
himself before he releases.
GREG
(screams)
FUCK!!
CUT
TO:
INT.
HOTEL ROOM – DAY
JARED is
hanging shirts in the closet. MIKEY D. is sitting on the bed flipping
through television channels.
MIKEY
D.
So,
Jinx looks good. I thought he would be a little more, I dunno,
stressed out looking.
JARED
Well,
it's been a year since the divorce. He's gotten over it.
MIKEY
D.
Well,
he told me he still loves her, a couple months ago on the phone.
JARED
Yeah?
Well, that ship has sailed, apparently. He should get a girlfriend,
get laid.
MIKEY
D.
He has
one. Jennifer or something. She is younger. He said she is dumb as a
pair of pink panties.
JARED
The
best kind. Is she hot?
MIKEY
D.
I
guess. But he says he doesn't want to see her anymore. Says she's too
much trouble.
JARED
They
always are. Plus, with his kids and all, I bet that makes it harder.
He worships those kids.
MIKEY
D.
Yeah.
They are amazing kids, I mean, really smart and capable.
JARED
And
this surprises you? He is one of the smartest people I have ever
known. Too bad he can't do
something
with it. He should be a novelist or a film-maker or a teacher. But he
just can't deal
with
the shit in his life.
MIKEY
D.
Yeah,
he is definitely smarter than the rest of us. But that rage...it'll
kill him eventually. Never
met an
angrier person in my life.
JARED
Yeah,
smart doesn't mean shit if you just don't do anything with it.