FADE IN:
INT. NEWSPAPER OFFICE – PRESENT DAY – DAY
GLEN, 25 and fidgety, sits at his computer, feverishly typing the latest in a long string of assignments for the day. Beside him is a stack of papers. His desk is cluttered and un-professional.
Across from Glen sits SURLY MAN, 26. He is visibly relaxed, sitting with his legs propped up on the desk while he slurps a cup of coffee. He watches Glen with a look of contempt on his face.
Glen pretends not to notice, though his eyes dart around. Surly Man swings his legs down and walks to the window, turning to resume watching Glen. Glen becomes visibly nervous.
Surly Man slurps.
GLEN What!
SURLY MAN Oooh, touchy today. Let’s Surly Man moves to pick up some of Glen’s work. Glen makes a protective move, but is too slow.
GLEN Those aren’t…
SURLY MAN Good? I can see that much.
Surly Man glances at each one and tosses them back on the desk in procession.
GLEN Hey, that took two hours…
SURLY MAN And this one isn’t even finished! They’ll never let you print this, Surly Man gives Glen a condescending look and leaves, swinging the door shut behind him. Glen glares at the screen and broods. Then he jumps up, grabs his coat, and storms out in pent-up anger.
INT. SMALL APARTMENT KITCHEN – PRESENT DAY – AFTERNOON
Glen burst into his kitchen, still fuming. On the landing behind him stands MARYANN, 26. Her voice continues as Glen shuts the door.
MARYANN How many times do I have to Glen takes off his coat and throws it onto a chair.
He paces around his tiny apartment in deep concentration. All around the room are various knick-knacks, figurines, and pictures tacked to the walls. He stops and leans on the kitchen table. He sighs in resignation.
A look of inspiration suddenly dawns on Glen’s face. He grabs a pen and begins scribbling furiously on a pad of paper.
v.o. It hit me like a freight Glen’s gaze travels up to the wall, letting his fingers write their way off the page. He grabs a stack of photos and begins shuffling through them madly until he finds a close-up of himself.
v.o. adventure, mayhem, love, sex,
He takes a felt tip pen and draws all over the photo, adding a helmet, shield, spear, and armour. He clutches the photo as he rips various pictures off the wall.
v.o. Okay, the last two, maybe not. Glen stops as, clutching the pictures, he visualizes his moment of glory. He sees it clearly: Himself, dressed as a Roman gladiator standing atop a mound of earth.
GLADIATOR GLEN looks proud and strong, though he fidgets and seems to have nothing to do.
Normal Glen looks back down at the papers in his hand. He holds a newspaper article, beside which is a picture of Surly Man. Glen’s eyes narrow at the picture. Gladiator Glen’s eyes also narrow as the Surly Man approaches him like a panther, claws out, stalking his prey.
v.o. There would have to be a battle.
Normal Glen tacks the photo of Surly Man onto the bull’s eye of a dartboard.
Gladiator Glen and Surly Man circle each other. Gladiator Glen brandishes his spear, while Surly Man paws the ground and snarls.
v.o. Normal Glen looks around the room, searching. His eyes fall on a five-pound note, then a half-eaten sandwich. Then he sees a flier:
“HI! I’m MaryAnn! Fresco Apartment’s Local Handywoman!” Below the heading is a polaroid of a frowning woman wearing a greasy jumpsuit.
Gladiator Glen and Surly Man both back away confused as MARYANN approaches, slouching and picking her teeth.
Normal Glen grimaces, then shoves the flier underneath a discarded lampshade. He pauses to look at the lampshade and is struck with an idea.
v.o. MaryAnn. In a skirt?
Now MaryAnn In A Skirt prances into the fantasy, the vision of a dainty lady. Gladiator Glen struts and flexes his muscles. Surly Man gets down on one knee, kisses her hand, and bites her.
v.o. Betrayal! A fight to the death!
Normal Glen furiously grabs a dart from his shelf and flings it toward the photo on the dart board. He misses.
He grabs two more, throws them at the same time, and they both bounce off. Finally he picks a dart off the floor, walks to the dart board, and shoves it into the centre of the photo. v.o. The valiant warrior celebrates Surly Man lays on the ground, dead. Gladiator Glen then puffs out his chest as MaryAnn In A Skirt coos and flirts with him.
v.o. Of course, there would be more Normal Glen gazes at a colouring book picture of a dinosaur. He reaches for the drawing as another idea dawns on his face.
A loud BANG from outside the door startles Glen out of his reverie. He goes to the door and opens it just as a voice starts shouting.
MARYANN Ah, shit! Artie, I swear to God Glen scowls. MaryAnn turns to face him, covered in soot.
MARYANN And what’re you lookin’ at?
Glen mumbles to himself and begins fidgeting nervously. He ducks back into the apartment.
Gladiator Glen stands on his earth mound shifting his feet, uncertain of what to do. MaryAnn In A Skirt sits down with a bored look on her face, then punches Gladiator Glen in the shin.
Gladiator Glen begins to cry.
v.o. And just like that, it was gone.
Normal Glen pulls MaryAnn’s flier out from under the lampshade. He looks closely at it. He reaches across the counter for a lighter, flicks the lighter on, and sets the paper on fire. He drops the flier into the sink and watches it burn.
v.o. My masterpiece. What could have MARYANN Hey 3B! I’m not that bad, am I?
Glen turns to see MaryAnn smirking at him through the open doorway. She opens her mouth to say something else, then turns her head. An exasperated look crosses her face. She disappears from view, but her voice continues.
MARYANN Now what? Oh come on, Artie, Glen raises an eyebrow. With renewed courage, he lunges toward the sink, turns the water on, and fishes out the remains of MaryAnn’s flier.
MaryAnn In A Skirt runs around in fear with her skirt on fire. Gladiator Glen rushes to the rescue with a cup of water. He dumps the water on MaryAnn’s legs, dousing the fire.
MaryAnn In A Skirt coos her thanks, and they walk off into the sunset together.
FADE OUT
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The "gloppy fat" goes in the trash this morning...or at least will from now on be labeled with big black skull-and-crossbones from now on, so I feel guilty if I succumb to temptation. Oh, the things you learn about food as an athlete....
