For those who don't mind images of chained hands but are allergic to four-letter words, here's a little WARNING: The following contains strong language. And while we're on the subject, the final film will, in all likelihood, receive an R rating for the afore-mentioned strong language plus some violence, nudity, and sexual content.
By the way, Survey, including this portion as well as the sides found via the casting page, is copyrighted and registered with the WGA.
Survey the Script
(but only a portion)
FADE IN:
CLOSE ON --
An upper-middle class house. Small, manicured lawn. Urban. Very still. Nothing moves.
TITLE SEQUENCE BEGINS
Pull back to reveal that the image of the house is a photograph on a desk.
Another photo flips down on top of the one of the house -- a close-up of the front door and house number.
More follow:
A night shot through the kitchen window of a MAN and WOMAN eating dinner.
The woman out for an early-morning jog.
The man carrying groceries toward the house.
The man, in a robe, retrieving the newspaper from the front stoop.
The couple embracing in the yard. Talking. They look very happy.
A Beamer in the drive.
The car’s tag.
As the credits end --
FADE TO BLACK
FADE IN ON:
INT. OFFICE - MORNING
Very modern. Almost Spartan. Very little color. Desk and computer. Two chairs for visitors/clients. A couple of modernist black and white photos adorn the walls.
The closed door swings open. The man from the photographs enters. JARROD PRUITT, late 30s and very GQ, closes the door behind him.
Ready to start the day, he turns toward his desk.
INT. BEDROOM – EARLIER THAT MORNING
This is not the room of an unemployed slacker. Spacious. Sparse like the office. A bedside table. A desktop computer against the wall. A few artsy paintings and photos.
The neatness cannot be missed. Nothing appears to be out of place. No clothes litter the floor. No frame is even a centimeter off center. There isn’t even that thin layer of dust on the computer screen.
In the king-size bed, Jarrod sleeps on his back, rigid as a corpse. Beside him --
A woman, sprawled on her stomach, face toward the far wall, but it must be the same woman from the photos.
The ALARM CLOCK HUMS.
Though the low sound wouldn’t dent most people’s sleep, Jarrod awakes immediately and with ease.
He sits up and shuts off the alarm. If it wasn’t clear before, it is now evident that he has kept himself in excellent shape.
INT. OFFICE
His briefcase now on his desk, Jarrod removes his suit coat and, with great care, hangs it on a rack on the back of the door.
INT. BEDROOM
Jarrod leans toward the woman --
Places a gentle hand on her bare back and caresses.
JARROD
Time to get up, baby doll.
He kisses her shoulder.
INT. OFFICE
Sitting at his desk, Jarrod presses the button to fire up his computer.
While it’s booting up, he shifts to his briefcase and pulls out a file folder.
He closes his case and sets it on the floor beside his desk.
INT. BEDROOM
Jarrod, in his boxers, stands at the foot of the bed. His wife still hasn’t budged.
His hand goes to her blanket-covered ankle. A gentle tug.
JARROD
Come on, Molly, you need the car today, remember?
She stirs. Rises to her elbows. Rubs her face. Twists her body around to look at Jarrod.
MOLLY is a good ten years younger than her husband. Even three-quarters still asleep, her face exudes a sort of naïve innocence.
INT. OFFICE
With the file spread out on his desk, Jarrod reaches forward to get a pen from the holder. Stops --
Returns it --
Slides open a drawer, instead --
Retrieves his hands-free phone attachment.
Puts it on, his movements almost prim.
With it in place, he dials a number.
On the second RING --
FLORIST (O.S.)
Gayle’s Florist. We deliver only the finest. Our regular business hours are --
Jarrod disconnects.
INT. BEDROOM
Fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, Jarrod reenters.
As he passes the foot of the bed, Molly’s hand darts out and grabs the towel, pulling him toward her.
He resists, staying at arms length.
On her knees at the edge of the bed and wearing panties, one of Jarrod’s unbuttoned shirts, and a mischievous smile, Molly maintains her grip.
MOLLY
We have time.
JARROD
No, baby, you have your meeting and I still have a few things to prepare for today.
Her smile fades into a pout.
JARROD
We can save it for tonight, okay?
Jarrod takes her hands and steps close. He kisses her on the forehead.
JARROD
My princess will be ready for tonight, won’t she?
Molly nods, resigned.
JARROD
Good. Now, I need my shirt.
Ever obedient, Molly shrugs it off.
INT. OFFICE
Pen in hand, Jarrod examines the report before him.
EXT. HIGH-RISE OFFICE BUILDING – MORNING
The car from the earlier photo pulls to a stop alongside the curb.
INT. CAR
Molly shifts the car into park.
Now all suited up, Jarrod unlatches his seatbelt.
MOLLY
Pick you up at five?
JARROD
Absolutely.
He leans over for a hug and a peck.
Their faces remain close.
JARROD
I’m really looking forward to
tonight.
MOLLY
And it’s going to be a long one, so make sure you don’t wear yourself out today.
A deeper, longer kiss.
His right hand caresses her waist and hip.
JARROD
What did I ever do to deserve you?
She answers with a final peck at his lips.
Briefcase in hand, he opens the door to get out but stops.
JARROD
What time is your meeting?
She glances at --
THE DASHBOARD CLOCK -- 8:40
MOLLY
Twenty minutes.
JARROD
Enjoy yourself.
MOLLY (laughs)
Yeah, right.
Jarrod gets out of the car and leans back inside.
JARROD
I love you.
MOLLY
I love you, too.
EXT. CAR
Jarrod closes the door and steps back. He watches as --
Molly pulls away.
Then he turns and heads for the building’s entrance.
INT. OFFICE
Jarrod continues his examination of the document.
A KNOCK --
The door opens before Jarrod can speak --
BILL LUMLEY, Jarrod’s boss, pokes his head inside.
BILL
Hey, Jare, what’s up?
JARROD
Not much, just got in.
Unbidden, Bill walks on inside and plops down in a chair.
BILL
Where’s Grace?
JARROD
She hasn’t made it in yet.
Bill crosses one leg over the other and picks tiny bits of lint from his pant’s leg.
Jarrod watches Bill flick the lint to the floor. He works at not scowling.
BILL
Why not?
JARROD
I came in early.
BILL
She’s your assistant. How can she assist if she ain't fucking here? Get your coffee all that good stuff.
JARROD
It’s okay, Bill, I didn’t even tell her.
BILL
You’re gonna have to work on this nice crap when you move upstairs. Can’t be making the rest of us look like hardasses.
JARROD
I’ll work on that.
BILL
Speaking of stepping up, you ready to roll?
JARROD
Just an adjustment or two and it’ll be perfect.
BILL
(standing)
Good deal. We’re counting on you, buddy.
Jarrod smiles and nods as Bill crosses back to the door.
Halfway out, he turns back.
BILL
And I’m serious about Grace. Make sure she toes the line.
JARROD
Will do.
The door closes.
Jarrod glares at it for a moment.
JARROD
Asshole.
EXT. CAR
The beamer turns a corner.
INT. CAR
Steering with one hand, Molly punches a button on her cell phone with the other.
Waits for an answer.
MOLLY
Hey, it’s me.
(listens)
Yeah, I’m on my way.
(listens)
I know. I don’t want to either, but it’s the only way until. . .
INT. OFFICE
Jarrod circles something on his report.
The PHONE RINGS --
He looks at it a moment, hoping that Grace has arrived and will answer.
No luck.
JARROD
Jarrod Pruitt.
TONI
(O.S.)
Mr. Pruitt, I’m conducting a
survey --
JARROD
Miss, I’m at work. I really don’t have time for telemarketers.
TONI (O.S.)
Oh, no, Mr. Pruitt, I’m a psych student at State. I despise telemarketers just as much as I’m sure you do.
Jarrod leans back in his chair, relaxing a bit.
JARROD
I doubt that you are that venomous.
TONI (O.S.)
(laughs)
You might be surprised. The reason I called is I’m conducting a
survey for my senior project.
JARROD
How did you get my work number?
TONI (O.S.)
Your wife was kind enough to --
JARROD
I’ll have to speak with her about
that. How long will this take?
TONI (O.S.)
Not long at all, just a few questions.
Jarrod slides open a desk drawer and removes hand grips, which he begins squeezing.
JARROD
Okay.
TONI (O.S.)
First, a couple of background questions. Your age?
JARROD
Thirty-eight.
TONI (O.S.)
Socio-economic status? Working class, middle class, upper --
JARROD
Upper middle.
Realizing how mindless the questions are, Jarrod puts down the grips and leans forward to examine his report.
TONI (O.S.)
Race?
JARROD
Caucasian. Thought that was illegal to ask?
TONI (O.S.)
Not for scientific studies.
Jarrod picks up his pen to make a mark as the caller pauses for a response that is not coming.
TONI (O.S.)
How long have you been married?
JARROD
Three years. Didn’t you get this from my wife?
TONI (O.S.)
Last boring question, I promise. How long were the two of you together before marrying?
JARROD
Four months.
TONI (O.S.)
How many serious, long-term romantic relationships have you had?
JARROD
You lied. This is another boring one.
TONI (O.S.)
My apologies, we’re almost to the good ones.
JARROD
Depending on your definition of serious, we’ll say three before my wife.
TONI (O.S.)
And you were married once before?
JARROD
How did you know that? Did Molly tell you?
TONI
(O.S.)
Has a significant other ever been
unfaithful to you?
JARROD
No.
TONI (O.S.)
That you’re aware of, of course.
JARROD
I suppose.
TONI (O.S.)
Have you ever been unfaithful?
JARROD
Of course not.
TONI (O.S.)
Have you ever killed anyone?
This one captures Jarrod’s undivided attention.
JARROD
What?
TONI (O.S.)
Have you ever killed anyone, say as a member of the military in Desert Storm or anything like that?
JARROD
No, I haven’t served in the military and I’ve never killed anyone.
TONI (O.S.)
Hypothetically, if you caught your spouse with a lover, which one of them would you kill?
JARROD
What kind of ridiculous question is that?
TONI (O.S.)
I’m sorry did I not mention that the topic of the study is infidelity and domestic violence?
JARROD
No, you did not.
TONI (O.S.)
I apologize for the oversight.
JARROD
Anyway, I am not a violent
man. I would never kill anyone and
especially not my wife.
TONI (O.S.)
Look at the question another way. With whom would you be most angry? The lover for invading your home and your wife or your wife for abusing your trust?
JARROD
Is this the final question?
TONI (O.S.)
Yes, I promise.
JARROD
My wife. I suppose I would be most angry with my wife.
TONI (O.S.)
Thank you, Jason, you have been a big help.
JARROD
You’re wel -- My name is Jarrod. Why would you call me Jason?
TONI (O.S.)
Did I? I apologize. Man, I seem to be doing that a lot. Jason’s the next name on my call list.
JARROD
Well, please, remove my name from your list.
TONI (O.S.)
Mr. Pruitt --
Jarrod disconnects.
He glares at the phone.
Picking up his pen, he turns back to his report, but --
GRACE walks in with a cup of coffee.
GRACE
You’re here early, Mr. Pruitt.
JARROD
Molly needed the car for one of her youth league meetings.
She places the cup on Jarrod’s desk.
GRACE
She is so sweet.
JARROD
Grace, how many times have I asked you to knock rather than simply barge into my office?
GRACE
Oh, sorry.
Grace heads back toward the door.
JARROD
Call the florist for me and have them deliver a nice arrangement to Molly about three o’clock.
GRACE
Any preference of what kind?
JARROD
Use your own judgment.
GRACE
A note?
JARROD
For my love and my princess.
GRACE
Nice.
INT. PARKING GARAGE
The Beamer pulls into a spot.
INT. CAR
Molly shuts the car off and unlatches her seatbelt.
Her CELL PHONE RINGS.
MOLLY
Hey, honey.
JARROD (O.S.)
Did you give my work number to some college student?
MOLLY
Yeah, she called yesterday. She was so sweet and needed to talk to --
JARROD (O.S.)
Don’t give my number to anyone.
MOLLY
Okay, I’m sorry.
JARROD (O.S.)
What kinds of questions did she ask you?
MOLLY
Just little things like how long I’ve known you.
JARROD (O.S.)
Nothing else?
MOLLY
Did I do something wrong?
JARROD (O.S.)
No, it’s okay. You know how I feel about strangers, especially nosey ones. I’ll see you tonight.
MOLLY
Okay, we’ll --
She realizes that Jarrod has hung up. Stung by his abruptness, she stares at the phone a moment.
EXT. CAR
The garage is deserted. Only cars.
Molly opens the door and starts to get out, but --
Where a moment ago there was no one now stands a large, imposing MAN, wearing a ski mask.
He rushes at her and tries to grab the car door. But he’s just a hair late --
Molly yanks it shut.
INT/EXT. CAR
Panicked, Molly hits the lock button --
Fumbles for her keys --
A CLICK, Molly’s eyes dart to --
The door is unlocked.
Her eyes dart back to --
The Man holds a keychain remote. Through the mouth-hole of the ski mask, he grins.
Frantic, Molly drops her keys and lurches to lock the door, but --
The door jerks open.
The Man grabs her by the wrist, yanking her far enough out of the car to clamp a hand over her mouth before she can scream.
KENNETH
Hello, Molly.
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