Falling Snow


Act 1

INT. Elevator

A quiet, dark-haired boy named Snow stands alone inside a metal box speeding upwards. The child is walking through nature with an old man whose face can’t be seen. Their harmonious strides contrast the grinding pulleys carrying Snow to the fifth floor.

EXT. Park

The same boy is walking an old veteran in a wheelchair. They are part of a Catholic middle school community service project, and neither of them are involved in the fun and games that the others are enjoying. After a long mutual silence a conversation starts between them.

JIM

What’s your name, boy?

BOY

Snow.

JIM

Fuckin’ hippies and their goddamn nature worshippin’ tree huggin’ faggotass New Age baby name bullshit.

SNOW

Huh?

JIM

Did your parents tell you that when you grow up your asshole’s gonna’ be bigger than a Mexican crackwhore’s?

SNOW

I don’t have any parents.

JIM

Ahhhhhh, right… I’ll call you El’ Bastardo then.

SNOW

That’s not funny old guy.

JIM

You little sonovabitch… I’ll kick your puny ass.

SNOW

What’s your name Old Wrinkle Dick?

JIM

Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours boy and see what happens. The name is Jim. Jim Bean.

SNOW

That’s not your name! That’s a whiskey. I used to drink it with my pop pop.

JIM

That is my goddamn name kid… and how old are yah? Jesus flippin Christ kids these days start drinkin and druggin straight out their mothers coochies.

SNOW

I’m twelve.

JIM

Ah that’s not so bad. You got any liquor on yah kid? Them fatass negro nurses stole my private stash yesterday.

SNOW

You like this flask? I stole it today.

JIM

Gimme’ that.

Jim swigs down the liquor until the flask is empty and throws it back to Snow.

SNOW

Wrinkle dick you drank all my shit. What the fuck am I gonna’ do now?

JIM

Don’t cuss at me you dirty lil’ fetus. You’re sure as hell growin’ up to be quite the worthless piece of shit without any kind of morals aren’t yah?

SNOW

I’m bored.

JIM

Now listen to me boy! I’m gonna ask you to do something real important. Can you do it for me?

SNOW

…What do I get out of it?

Jim almost instantly produces the most mysterious and enticing award he could have conjured for the child out of a hidden jacket pocket.

JIM

Here, I keep this on me at all times, it’s called a Luger. I got in the Arden after slicing a Kraut officer in half. Hide it in your backpack, quick make sure no one’s looking.

SNOW

OHH HELLLL YESSSSS!!!!

JIM

Pipe down you little commie bastard. Now unplug this tube, these wires on my chest, and this shit attached to my throat. I can’t reach them, I got bad arthritis kid.

SNOW

Alrighty.

JIM

Ahhhh with the warm whiskey in my belly I shouldn’t feel any pain. Now, I’m gonna go to sleep, just hang around me for a little while before you leave.

SNOW

Ok.

INT. Spike’s Dilapidated bedroom

Dark messy rectangular room with multiple computers and moniters aligned against two walls and a small bed on the opposite side. Tangled wires taped against comic book pages taped to plastered walls. Tin foil blocks all light from coming through the windows. In the darkness, Snow speaks.

SNOW

And that was the first time I killed someone Spike.

SPIKE

That’s some pretty heavy shit dude. Euthanasia at twelve… you put Dr. Kevorkian to shame bro.

SNOW

Yeah, except he had empathy.

SPIKE

Fuck everyone else.

SNOW

Speaking of fucking everyone else, let’s take a trip to the pharmacy jawn.

SPIKE

Word, I’m outta Buddha, this town is dry, and it is Evil Dead night. So yeah, sounds like a good idea.

SNOW

Yeah great that hurricane is coming and all I got is this old Ride The Lightning shirt. I don’t even like Metallica.

SPIKE

Whatever, I dig thrash metal in general.

(Pushes up his horn rimmed glasses)

Snow produces a pack of American Spirits and lights one for himself and another for his bulky, black ginger friend. The two suck in the tobacco smoke heartily and jump out the first floor bedroom window of Snow’s whitewashed Rancher house.

INT. CVS Pharmacy

Snow grabs two bottles of Robotussin DM and brings it to the line filled with families and old people at the counter while Spike awkwardly rips strips of triple c pills out of boxes in the aisle and shoves them into his messenger bag.

SNOW

And one of them butane lighters, honey.

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

Yeah. You got a state issued license for that?

SNOW

What’s your name? What does your name tag say? Beatrice. What kind of name is that for a forty year old?

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

I’m twenty five.

SNOW

What’re you new here? Since when do you have to have a license to buy a fucking lighter?

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

It’s a new state law. Fourteen year olds shouldn’t be playing with fire.

SNOW

I smoke Cubans cause I got it like that corny puta. And I’m sixteen. Just gimme’ that purple.

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

What?

SNOW

Medicine. Thanks, bye. Come on Spike.

SPIKE

I’m done tying my shoe…

SNOW

Right.

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

Just take your change and get out of here before I call the authorities.

SNOW

Why would you do such a thing?

BEATRICE THE CASHIER

You! Yes, you the big dark fellow with the luscious red hair. Hi darling, what do you have in that bag?

SPIKE

Deuces!

Spike jets out the automatic door and Snow follows suit. The two dodge a couple of cars on the four lane highway out front while simultaneously cracking open their prizes to be enjoyed on the other side of the road. They run downhill while chugging the bottles of cough medicine and jog on through an abandoned lot leading onto a forest path.

EXT. Forest clearing

Trash and empty beer cans lay about. Snow and Spike are panting and leaning against a downed tree. Spike swallows the thirty pills one by one while Snow finishes off a second bottle and lights up a cigarette. The two friends chain smoke and bullshit. Time passes by, and the trip begins.

SNOW

CVS should have better customer service than that don’t you think?

SPIKE

Racial profiling is a bitch. Next time you’re the one snatching the pills.

SNOW

It’s not my fault you go around fulfilling racial stereotypes like it aint no one else’s business.

SPIKE

It is your fault cause you’re a pussy. I’m a hacker and a gamer not a gangbanger.

JIM

Really? Cause you sure as hell look like the spawn of a shit covered pillsborough doughboy who picked up a drunk Irish tramp to me.

SNOW

(Laughing uncontrollably)

You’re fat!

SPIKE

You calling me fat asshole? Remember in fifth grade when the other kids at recess called you stickboy? Well, it still applies crack baby kid.

SNOW

At least I’m not fat.

Only ten feet to their right a shape rolls out of the bushes. Bob, a shaggy haired metalhead, wakes up from a groggy drunken slumber.

SPIKE

Is that Bobby McDavis?

SNOW

Macdaddy!

BOB

(Incomprehensible)

SNOW

Bob, you’re runnin’ through the woods, running, running, running…

(Snow smacks Bob in the eyes)

BOOM! You hit a tree.

BOB

Uh.

(Falls backwards)

SPIKE

I don’t feel too hot Snow.

SNOW

(Incapacitated with laughter)

SPIKE

Aww shit I’m gonna’ yack.

(Throws up)

JIM

Fuckin’ pansy.

SNOW

Ok Bob, have fun sleeping in that pile of squirrel urine and trash cause we’re getting out of here Spike. I can’t take being outside anymore.

SPIKE

Oh now that you’re nauseous it’s okay to leave, right?

BOB

The branches in the sky are spinning.

SNOW

He’s right, Spike.

SPIKE

(Both infuriated and disoriented)

Fuck you motherfuckers.

SNOW

Wait, hold up. What’s that?

Two preteen boys and a girl walk through the forest clearing and give notice to the scene taking place with amusement.

SPIKE

What the fuck are you chuckling at?

KID

Your fugly face ginger jew!

Spike becomes tense and clenches his fists.

KID

Hey you, with the black hair! My girlfriend wants to mack it with you.

SNOW

She gotta tight pooper?

As the kid opens his mouth to speak Spike grabs him by the hair and begins hammer-fisting him in the temple. Snow and Bob can do nothing but gawk at Spike beating the piss out of the twelve year old boy.

BOB

I’m getting out of here before the pigs show up.

(Bob leaves)

SNOW

Yeah come on Spike. Proud of yourself? You deserve every ounce of it, bud. Let’s ditch this bitch.

SPIKE

Don’t fuck with me!

GIRL

You’re a psycho!

The kids run away. Snow and Spike stumble home as the sun sets.

Fade to black

INT. SPIKE’S DILAPIDATED BEDROOM

Bruce Campbell on the nineteen-inch television screen wearing sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt, and sipping on a bottle of Red Stripe. Snow and Spike are on the couch watching Burn Notice.

SNOW

I can’t believe that son of a bitch sold out.

SPIKE

What the hell are you talking about this show rules.

SNOW

Yeah, but we need something, someone to believe in. We need a cause, our own crusade. We need jihad! Something to fight and die for instead of sitting around drinking cough medicine and flicking the bean all day!

SPIKE

We play Call of Duty…

SNOW

That’s not enough.

SPIKE

What does this have to do with Bruce Campbell selling out?

SNOW

Just look at him!

SPIKE

I’d rather live in a zombie infested shack than Miami, Florida anyway so I don’t know what you’re getting at.

SNOW

Come on, let’s smoke a bowl and watch Evil Dead and I’ll show you.

SPIKE

How about we start it off at the best scene.

SNOW

When the tree rapes the shit outta that annoying bitch. Hilarious.

SPIKE

Hold on, I’m just gonna’ check and see if what you’re saying is really true.

SNOW

What?

SPIKE

I want to know if the old man really sold out. I’m searching his home address listing. Sonofabitch. He lives in a goddamned mansion.

SNOW

That’s no B-star trailer park home. We’ve been hoodwinked our whole lives bro.

JIM

Kill him.

SPIKE

Pass me the bowl.

SNOW

Who?

SPIKE

The bowl.

JIM

Kidnap him. Yes. Yes. Even better.

SNOW

Let’s kidnap Bruce Campbell.

SPIKE

Crazy talk.

JIM

Here’s some Cold War era CIA issued LSD tabs for the job.

SNOW

Even better! Let’s do acid, and then kidnap Bruce Campbell.

SPIKE

I’m down for the acid, whatever else happens, happens.

SNOW

That’s the kind of apathetic spirit we need Spike. Fuck plans. We’re the kings of spontaneity. Let’s just go out there and do it.

SPIKE

How about we steal your retarded uncle’s rape van.

SNOW

For the last time. For the last fucking time Spike my uncle is not retarded, he’s paralyzed from the neck down.

SPIKE

Then why does he need a rape van? Does that mean your uncle rapes people with his tongue? That’s kind of fuckin’ weird Snow.

Snow shrugs his shoulders, picks up the remote and shuts off Evil Dead.

SPIKE

Let me just let Cocoa outside first.

SNOW

Your dog is a flaming homosexual I hope you realize that.

-cut to rape van on the road

EXT. I-95 south

Snow speeds the gray van down the highway wearing bulky ski goggles, a bomber hat and chomping down on a cheap lit cigar. Spike smokes a bowl while trying to open a jammed briefcase.

SPIKE

BOB! Take the piece you stoned fuck.

BOB

Uh.

SPIKE

Can’t you see I’m trying to open this piece of shit? Take it.

SNOW

What’s in the piece of shit?

SPIKE

Strips of acid.

BOB

More!?

SPIKE

Nah, just some dirty old laundry, maybe a pipe bomb or two.

BOB

What!?

SPIKE

Anarchist Cookbook.

BOB

My mom has that.

SNOW

No she doesn’t.

BOB

She made vegan cupcakes last week.

SPIKE

What the fuck is a vegan?

SNOW

Someone who only eats cupcakes.

SPIKE

Stop fucking with me I’ve heard the word before, isn’t it sorta like a vegetarian?

BOB

I don’t know.

SNOW

That’s why Bob’s mom is so fat.

SPIKE

Because she’s a vegetarian?

SNOW

In spite of being one.

BOB

Wait… now I’m confused.

SNOW

Tell me something new Bob.

BOB

Somebody is breathing on the back of my neck.

SPIKE

That’s the creepy old geezer in the wheelchair we found in the forest.

BOB

I know who it is! I just want it to stop.

SNOW

What!?

(Turns around and stops paying attention to the road)

I thought I could only see him!

JIM

You’re gonna kill us all dimwit.

SNOW

You’re already fuckin dead!

SPIKE

(Laughing)

Oh, I wish he would die.

BOB

He’s been with us the whole time. Got us the acid… remember Snow?

SNOW

Uh, well yeah. I do.

JIM

You’re deafer than a Mongoloid! Watch the road!

BOB

Oh no it’s cool old man.

The old man looks back at Bob who has been the one controlling the steering wheel with his feet taped to hockey sticks from the back seat.

SNOW

You’ve actually gotten pretty good Bob.

BOB

Last month we were afraid of leaving the parking lot doin’ this shit. Now look at me. I’m on the open road mothafucka!

SNOW

I can’t believe I’m not hallucinating you Jim.

SPIKE

I can’t believe we haven’t gotten pulled over yet.

JIM

Pull over I got to check out this rest stop for lonely children.

SPIKE

Gross.

JIM

What the hell are you scoffing at ginger?

SPIKE

Watch it old man.

SNOW

Spike has no qualms with beating the shit out of twelve year olds, so he definitely won’t fret over beating the shit out of an old crippled guy, just giving you a heads up Jim.

JIM

I might have lost the use of my legs fighting for my country, but that won’t stop me from raping you in the mouth when you’re sleeping, boy. Now pull over.

INT. rest stop men’s room

The three disheveled teenagers reluctantly help Jim onto a toilet and then shut the stall door. Snow is smoking the cigar still, obnoxiously puffing the smoke at the mirror while he washes his hands.

BOB

Guys let’s go to Bush Gardens my Aunt is a manager there we can get free passes.

SPIKE

Sounds like the new plan to me.

SNOW

How dare you even propose that we abandon the Bruce mission!

SPIKE

We weren’t really serious about that were we? I thought we were just tripping balls like usual.

SNOW

I tripped harder than Jesus in the desert when he fasted.

SPIKE

Exactly, let’s repeat that at Bush Gardens!

SNOW

I guess the whole kidnapping Bruce Campbell plan was a little unrealistic.

BOB

Yeah and my ma said I can’t be charged with another felony until I’m eighteen.

SNOW

What the hell is taking Jim so long we need to talk to him about this.

SPIKE

Fuck that guy, let’s ditch him!

SNOW

Hold up.

(Knocks on the stall repeatedly)

What the fuck? Open up old man!

SPIKE

I got this.

(Kicks the door down)

The old man is covered in his own filth lying on the floor motionless. The three are standing there with their mouths gaping. Spike and Bob have no idea what to do except stare. Snow drops to his knees and raises his hands to the air in drugged exasperation. Goggles, bomber hat, cigar, and all, Snow silently kneels in the old man’s shit for several seconds.

SNOW

(Gets up)

Alright, let’s go.

SPIKE

What the fuck just happened.

BOB

He’s beautiful.

SPIKE

Where are we going?

SNOW

Miami.

SPIKE

Oh, shit.

BOB

Guys, I think we should leave.

(Points out the window at two cop cars in the parking lot with their lights on)

About Sean William Lynch
Sean William Lynch is a poet from New Jersey who was born in 1992. Lynch's first book of poems "the city of your mind" was published in 2013 by Whirlwind Press. Frank Sherlock, the poet laureate of Philadelphia, called Lynch's debut poetry book "visionary." CA Conrad claimed that the book was "marvelous!" S.W. Lynch's writing has been featured in numerous publications online and in print, including Milkfist, Poetry Quarterly, and Tincture Journal.

4 Responses to Falling Snow

  1. N Filbert says:

    i don’t quite know if “like” is the right button, but found it challenging, creative and hard. good writing

    • Sean Lynch says:

      I like the fact that you didn’t exactly like it because I didn’t either, screenplays are in a whole entire different universe than regular fiction.

  2. Peruzzi says:

    Has an Anthony Burgess tone. Compelling and repulsive at the same time.

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