The Devil Made Us Do It (Part II of IV)

This is the 2nd installment of my short screenplay. Yesterday I posted the 1st installment.
Comments and criticism are most welcome. I apologize for incorrect formatting in the transition from screenplay software to WordPress.

MR. SHIKONGO stands at the urinal with his dick in his hand.
He is disoriented.
He zips up and heads over to the washbasin. The brown three-piece rope stripe suit he wears hangs loosely on his skeletal frame and he attempts to adjust it. Mr. Shikongo stops and looks in the mirror.


He leaves the bathroom in a huff.

Ah, there you are Mr. Shikongo. Come, the others are waiting for you.

JOHANNES takes his arm and leads him through the lobby where the RECEPTIONIST with too much lipstick sits filing her nails.

Bye, Mr. Shikongo. Have fun at the zoo today!
She waves at him with a big smile.

MAGGIE sits hunched over on the bench in the locker room. Her hands cover her face. DON enters and sits down next to her. Maggie sits up.

I got him good, didn’t I?

She smiles through bloody, broken lips and teeth.
Her face is pummelled; all bruises, swells, cuts, and blood. Don digs in his jacket pocket and hands a wad of cash over to her. Maggie takes the money without even looking at it.

You did good, my girl. You did good.

JOHANNES sits across from NICK, separated by a desk, the top of which is strewn with books, folders, loose papers, several coffee mugs filled to different levels and stationery.

Okay, well based on what you just told me, I’d have to describe you as a cliché, man.

Nick straightens from his slouch and drives one of his bony, effeminate hands into the desktop. There is a dull thud. Frazzled by the lack of effect, he grabs a plastic cup with pencils in and flings it at Johannes, who is laughing and does not have time to duck. The cup and pencils miss and skittle on the linoleum floor behind him.

Damnit, don’t ever dare use that word to describe me again.

Nick wags an admonishing finger. He sounds like a squeaky toy being chewed by a dog. Spittle speckles his goatee and his top hat is skew.
Despite the long, dark locks that reach his shoulders, Nick is in fact bald on top of his head. It would all be rather ridiculous and particularly funny, were it not for the darkness that has risen in his eyes.
Johannes sits frozen by a sudden and real fear, paralysed in a pathetic half-smile.
Nick leans in.

Now listen very carefully. You’re the one who came to me. You need my help. You are the cliché. Freak!

Well then, if you are the Devil, as you claim to be, then make me somebody. Take away this empty space inside.

JOHANNES leads a shuffling MR. SHIKONGO, dressed in his oversized suit, along the sidewalk.

Isn’t it exciting to go on a little excursion, Mr. Shikongo.

Who are you? Where are we going?

I’m Johannes. We’re wandering round your old neighbourhood so we can exercise your mind as well as your body.

Do I know you, Johannes?

Yes, Sir, you do. I’m your orderly at the home you live in.

Have I asked you this before, Johannes?

Only everyday Mr. Shikongo.

They come to a pedestrian crossing. Johannes checks for traffic while catching his breath, and when he sees none, crosses the street with Mr. Shikongo.
Suddenly, a car barrels down on the two of them just as they reach the middle of the road. Johannes is startled to realize that they won’t make it across safely and shouts to Mr. Shikongo.

Car! Watch out!

He instinctively shoves the old man out of the way of the oncoming car.
There is an almighty crash.
Mr. Shikongo gets up from where he fell to the ground when Johannes pushed him. He watches helplessly as the DRIVER of the vehicle jumps out of the car and sprints away.
He sees Johannes lying in a pool of his own blood.
Slowly, Mr. Shikongo walks to Johannes’s broken body and kneels over him. The old man’s face becomes lucid. He is focussed, angelic.
Mr. Shikongo lifts Johannes’s head off the road. He places one of his hands over Johannes’s eyes and looks to the heavens. A gust of wind passes.
Johannes chokes, coughs and spits blood. His eyes open in fear. He is surprised to see Mr. Shikongo holds him.

Welcome back.

MAGGIE washes blood off her face. The door clangs open and shut. Footsteps. Silence. She glances into the mirror and sees NICK behind her.
Startled, she turns to face him, fists up. Nick raises his palms in a signal of surrender. Maggie skirts around him to an open space from which she can escape if she needs to.
Nick slowly claps his hands.

Very well done, young lady. I’ve watched every one of your fights, and tonight’s was the most special so far. Marvellous indeed!

Who are you? What do you want with me?

I’m Nick.

He extends a hand. Maggie slaps it down and steps back at the same time, never once taking her eyes off his.

Ouch. Maggie, I’m here to make a business proposal that will increase your riches beyond imagination.

Money ain’t everything, you know. Besides, I’ve got one hell of an imagination.

Oh, I’m sure you do, but don’t worry, you will still have plenty of opportunities to cause pain to a great many people.

What about Don?

Nick shifts his gaze across the room, raises a brow. Maggie follows his eyes to DON, slumped in a corner.

I’m listening.


4 thoughts on “The Devil Made Us Do It (Part II of IV)

  1. Indigo Spider

    I find myself worried about what is going to happen next, fully immersed in the story. The little details are perfect to let you get to know the characters. I can’t wait for the next installment.

  2. Val

    When I read this I have a movie in my head scribbla. This is perfection regarding character details: Nick straightens from his slouch and drives one of his bony, effeminate hands into the desktop. I know more about him than any dialog could express just by this one action and descriptive passage of a body part. I also like the continuity of blood on Johannes after the car hits him, leading sweetly into the scene where Maggie wipes the blood from her face. You are a very good writer scribbla, is it okay if I pop you on my blog roll?


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