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Lukewarm 16
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Sniper
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a short screenplay by Sputum
EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY.
A long establishing shot zooms down into a crowded downtown
thoroughfare. Taxi cabs and buses and all ages of family sedans
languidly sift their ways through congested traffic.
Pedestrians of every size and color struggle through the crowds
that line the streets. Shouts and horns and music and the
ubiquitous hum of purring motors ricochet through the heavy
air.
Close-up tracking shot of a scraggly-looking woman carrying
shopping bags.
Turn and zoom on an old man talking to himself, slowing foot
traffic, like a pebble in a stream.
Back-out and track along the crowd as they make their
individual ways as one. Crossing, dodging, walking, ignoring.
Then suddenly something breaks the pattern. Something clatters
onto the sidewalk, borne invisibly from some point high above
the street. Pedestrians stop, hesitate, and stare at the
object. It is a rifle.
A voice rings out from high above, clearly coherent above the
tumult.
SNIPER (OS)
Son of a BITCH!
A few people slowly realize that the object is a gun, and,
rather unnecessarily, panic and begin to run away. Run away
from the gun, into other people, into the street. Screams are
heard. The panic multiplies exponentially and suddenly the
entire crowd is cringing away from the rifle.
Again, heard coming from high above, comes a cry.
SNIPER (OS)
Fuck! I can't BELIEVE this
shit!
A man comes forward from the crowd and emerges into the
clearing, whose center is the mysteriously sky-fallen rifle.
Most people have stopped screaming and now turn to look at him.
He looks up to the sky. The sniper cannot be seen, but heard
faintly.
SNIPER (OS)
Shit!
The man picks up the gun, walks a few feet, and drops it into a
garbage can. He looks around--the crowd stares back.
MAN
What!?
The man walks away, merging with the throng. Some semblance of
order is gradually resumed.
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