"BURUNDANGA BECOMES YOU"
FADE IN:
INT./EXT. THE HOUSE OF MERCY - NIGHT
Shadows move and play across mostly empty rooms as exterior
TRAFFIC light shines into the house through blinds.
Upon a black and white checkered marble floor, on a
checkerboard mat, rests a personalized black bowl of milk
adorned with the name 'BLACKY.' Padded FOOTSTEPS and white
fur approach.
Messy little Blacky has blood on his feline face.
Blacky, a totally white furry cat, DRINKS from his bowl. A
drop of blood falls from Blacky's mouth onto the bowl and
rolls slowly, down into the milk. White milk turns to pink.
Blacky drinks his fill then jumps on top of a bar stool to
get to the kitchen countertop. He walks past a cellphone
and a spacesaver phone hanging under the cabinets.
INSERT - SPACESAVER'S GREEN GLOWING L.E.D. DISPLAY
reveals that HAROLD MOORE, phone number 675-6608, recently
called and left a message.
BACK TO SCENE
Blacky sits down next to the window and licks his fur,
cleaning the last of what the milk did not and is so intent
in his grooming he only briefly looks up when the spacesaver
phone RINGS and the message machine kicks in.
MERCY (V.O.)
Hey! You've reached the woman who
lives up to her name. Mercy has
left the building though. At the
beep leave a message and your humble
servant will help with whatever
problem you may have. Ciao!
BEEP!
HAROLD (V.O.)
Mercy? Pick up girl. It's Harold.
I know you got the packages. TERRY
already told me that you picked them
up.
INSERT - YELLOW PACKAGES IN BOXES
sitting on Mercy's coffee table in shadows are suddenly
painted in light coming from a VEHICLE just pulling up.
BACK TO SCENE
Blacky's ears perk up. He MEOWS, and races to the door.
HAROLD (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Look, I'm in the neighborhood, that
little Donut shop around the corner.
I could swing by, pick mine up. I
wouldn't tell a soul. Please. Give
Moore a little Mercy. You know we
go way back girl. You there?
A vehicle door SLAMS from outside the house of Mercy.
HAROLD (V.O.) (CONT'D)
O.K. well... give me a call.
KEYS fumble at the front door. Blacky MEOWS. Mercy enters
her house and greets her mildly excited pet.
MERCY
Blacky! My cute little problem child.
Blacky gives a loud MEOW and runs off to the kitchen.
MERCY (CONT'D)
Wait up Blacky. Momma's burnt tired.
Mercy enters the kitchen area, opens a door, and pulls out a
treat that she gives to the cat. She turns on the lights
and checks her messages on the spacesaver phone.
MERCY (CONT'D)
Johnson. Harold. McCread. Harold.
Harold. Jeez! Harold fucking Moore!
She picks up the cellphone on the countertop, dials Harold's
number, pulls her hair out of its bun and makes her way to
an open stairwell.
She kicks off her shoes, hits the lights, and enters, slowly
descending the stairs to the basement laundry room while
trying to unbutton her shirt with her free hand.
MERCY (CONT'D)
Hello Mr. Moore. How are you to...
No Harold, I... Look, I don't care
where you are. I just got back from
the hospital. It's been a long day
and...
Mercy takes off her shirt, as she continues to converse with
Harold, leaving on her fancy pink bra, and loads the washing
machine. She adds in clothes from a basket sitting next to
the machine.
MERCY (CONT'D)
Look Harold I realize that you've
waited a long time. We've all waited
a long time. You want to see your
kid as much as everyone else. Hold
on a minute.
She sets the phone down and measures out a cup of detergent,
which she pours into the machine. She turns the WASHING
MACHINE on, puts the detergent back on the shelf, and grabs
a welding sparking tool that was sitting next to it.
Mercy turns around, leans back, purposely exhales, and resumes
her conversation, subconsciously making accentuating SPARKS.
MERCY (CONT'D)
Mr. Moore, you still there? Good.
Listen up and listen carefully. I
am tired. It is late. I have loose
ends to tidy up here. I do not have
time to burn. Do you hear this sound?
She holds the phone down to the washing machine as Blacky
comes down the stairs.
MERCY (CONT'D)
That, Mr. Moore, is the sound of
exhaustion.
Mercy leaves the sparking tool on the machine, walks past
Blacky who ignores her, and begins walking upstairs.
MEOW!
MERCY (CONT'D)
See! Even Blacky agrees. I will
talk to you at work tomorrow Mr.
Moore and you better bring donuts.
Goodnight.
She turns the lights off and disappears around the corner
but light filters through a paper covered basement window.
Blacky jumps from the floor to a clothing filled chair, hops
to the washer and dryer, crosses, and jumps upon the shelf.
Alternating black and white hangers hang beneath the shelf
on a rod as Blacky walks, passing by the detergent, bleach,
cleaning supplies, small framed photos of Mercy with a little
girl, and several burnt and melted toy figurines.
The cat arrives at a large and leaking ziplock storage bag.
Inside the bag is a fresh pair of bloody human feet, adult
male, cut off near the ankles.
Blacky's tongue goes LICK, lickety, lick.
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