Opening scene of my new script
EXT. ANWR - SNOWFIELDS - DAY An endless blanket of snow. There is nothing but white and white and more white stretching out for miles. We hear a WOMAN’S GRUNTS echoing, followed by the CLUNK of a shovel slamming against the ice. A woman is digging and ploughing in a seemingly random patch of snow. She shovels once over her shoulder, then stabs the lifted snow. Shovel. Stab. Shovel. Stab. A dull rhythm. Meet MAJORIE PULLMAN, 48, a standard-looking housewife who would be completely out of her element if it weren’t for her ALL-WHITE SNOW GEAR AND WHITE RUSSIAN USHANKA HAT that camouflages her presence in the snow. Her face is pretty but exhausted - and plenty chapped. She is not wearing gloves. BEEP. A HIGH-PITCHED SONAR BLIP CATCHES OUR EAR. Majorie stops. Listens. BEEP. BEEP. Her eyes WIDEN, wild with excitement. Without hesitation she drops the shovel, reaches inside her snow jacket and pulls out a HANDHELD ELECTRONIC DEVICE. ANGLE ON: THE DEVICE is some kind of radar or GPS, with a clear fondness for the spot Majorie has chosen to dig as the BEEPS become louder and faster. Majorie drops to her knees. She quickly pockets the device and begins clawing away at the snow with her bare hands. Her breath steams. The beeping grows loud. Majorie continues to scrape at the earth, which is now turning into a brown-colored mush. HER EYES ARE BRIMMING WITH INTENSITY, DESIRE. THEN - It stops. Majorie has stopped her digging, her body frozen but alert. The beeping continues. SHE SNAPS HER HEAD TO THE LEFT.
2. In the distance, a figure clad in a DARK BLUE SNOW JACKET approaches. Without hesitation, Majorie grabs the shovel, walks a few paces from the dig site, and stops. She lays the shovel on a fresh patch of unbroken snow, then covers the tool with her body, face down. She all but vanishes in the vast coat of white. The figure draws closer and we can now see him in plain sight. His name is DONNIE PARKS, 68, a frail-looking man with THICK, COKE-BOTTLE GLASSES. He doesn’t look like much but seems to be perfectly content making his way across the terrain. Suddenly, Donnie stops. He stares down at the gaping hole left by Majorie. He scans the dig site briefly before his eyes hold, caught on something. Donnie lowers himself slowly to one knee, then the other. He makes his way to the center of the site. He digs half-heartedly, brushing away a few inches of snow. Then, he stops. POV DIG SITE: We look up at Donnie, who looks nothing short of baffled. After a long beat, he leans down to pick up and reveal... A THREE FOOT HULA GIRL PINATA. Donnie examines the colorful pinata, confused and disturbed by its pure existence. BEEP. Donnie wheels around in a 360. Nothing but white. He looks back at the pinata, gives it a good shake. BEEP. BEEP. He turns again, this time we see a hint of panic, paranoia. Reaching into the back tuck of his pants, Donnie pulls out a pair of CHEAP BINOCULARS. He sets down the pinata and glasses over the snowy land. POV DONNIE’S BINOCULARS:
3. The landscape winds past and it’s nothing but snow. There is no sound but Donnie’s uneasy breathing. Donnie lowers the binoculars and waits. Unconvinced, he raises them again. POV DONNIE’S BINOCULARS: White, white, and more white. Then - BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. We swirl back around just in time to see MAJORIE IN MID-SWING WITH HER SHOVEL-- CRACK! Glass shatters and Donnie SCREAMS. Before he even hits the ground Majorie is on him, grabbing a fistful of his graying hair and SLAMMING his face REPEATEDLY ON THE SNOW. We hear a SICKENING THUD each time his head meets the ground. Majorie is frenzied, her face contorted into a MENACING SNARL. Finally, she relents her attack and releases Donnie. He falls limply. Dead. A pool of blood already spidering across the snow. Majorie stands and brushes her hands together before noticing the frostbite on her fingertips. She looks down at Donnie. And then at his gloves. CUT TO: MAJORIE RUNNING. Her breathing is hard. She runs fast. Cradled under her arm is the HULA GIRL PINATA. And her hands are now dressed in gloves. ANGLE ON: DONNIE’S BODY. Blood continues to stain the snow. We can barely see Majorie sprinting away, disappearing into the distance.