Short Scene Finalists

Oh Wavers, I just couldn't help it. I just had to go through all the submissions and choose the top three finalists today. Glad I got up early to do it - wow -we had over 50 submissions and let me tell you, it was TOUGH to choose the top three. Really tough. I am so proud of my Wavers - you guys really took this competition seriously. I am blown away by the variety and quality of short scenes that were sent. Just amazed.

So before I present the top three scenes, let's review the voting procedures here on the Rouge Wave. Before you choose your favorite, ask yourself:

*Did the writer make clever and contextual use of the three required words: taxes, numb and cantaloupe?

*Does the scene have a beginning, middle and end?

*Did the scene entertain you?

*Please don't judge the scene by the title - those that didn't have titles I titled myself to make voting easier.

All three of these finalists are excellent writers, so please, no ballot-stuffing. This should be a close race to win a seriously generous prize. Please vote in the poll box to your right.

And now - the top three finalists in the Cantaloupe, Taxes, Numb Short Scene Competition:

DENTIST - by Kim Nunley

INT. DENTIST OFFICE - DAY

EDDIE, in a collared shirt, lays with his eyes closed in a
dental chair. Seated on a stool is DR. DAVIS, who places a
mask that covers Eddie’s nose and mouth.

DR. DAVIS
You’ll still be a bit numb when you
wake, Eddie.
(to someone O.S.)
Ella, Ms. Reeves called again.
Could you please explain to her why
her invoice must include taxes?

Eddie’s eyes open suddenly.

INT. KITCHEN - MORNING - FLASHBACK
Eddie, in the same shirt, sits at the kitchen table reading
the newspaper. LYNDSEY, in a business suit, grabs her purse
and gives Eddie a kiss on his cheek on her way to the door.

LYNDSEY
Remember, post office closes at 5.
Luck with the wisdom tooth.

Eddie doesn’t respond. Lyndsey stops at the door and turns.

LYNDSEY (CONT’D)
Eddie...counting on you.

Still without looking, he gives her the thumbs up.

INT. DENTIST OFFICE - DAY - BACK TO PRESENT

Eddie turns his head. A wall calendar shows TUES, 4/15. The
clock reads 4:45. He tries to get up, but his eyes droop and
he falls back into his chair. He lifts his arm and points.

EDDIE
Doctor...can’t...envelope

His words are undecipherable. His eyes close; head slumps.

ELLA
Did he say something about
cantaloupe?

Dr. Davis moves to replace Eddie’s arm to his side. Beyond
his extended arm sits a leather briefcase; sticking out is an
envelope with the IRS’ address and a stamp in the top right
hand corner.

***

Andy at the Bat by Edward Thiele

INT OFFICE
Andy, a 35 year old accountant, enters a conference room holding a CANTALOUPE in one hand. He throws the cantaloupe against the wall and startles the people sitting at the conference table.

DAVE
Whoa, Andy take it easy.

ANDY
Shut up Dave. Let me lay it out for you people one more time. We have a three month window, a three month busy season. It’s not football season, it’s not baseball season, maybe it is baseball season, but more importantly it’s tax season. Taxes, ladies and gentleman. You should be eating, breathing, seducing taxes for the next three months. Three months! Cindy where were you today?

CINDY
I had to take a half day because my son is sick. He said his hands were numb.

ANDY
Fantastic. Jim how about you?

JIM
(Whispers)
You know I have chemo on Wednesdays.

ANDY
Oh, gee Jim, I’m sorry. But the cancer obviously didn’t take time off, why did you? Dave what have you been doing?

DAVE
I’ve been here since eight this morning. We carpooled together.

ANDY
Oh yeah. As for the rest of you: I don’t want any more excuses. I don’t want to hear about sick kids or terminal illnesses; and Jim, you are terminal, don’t be ridiculous. Get back to work and crunch some numbers. Hey Cindy, get me another cantaloupe.

Jim puts his down. Everyone gets up and walks out.

***

Labor Pains by Colin Brownlie

INT. KITCHEN - DAY

JACK, 34, wearing sweats, stands at the sink, legs spread
wide. He cuts a cantaloupe in half, scoops the orange flesh
into the sink and waddles to the fridge, wincing in pain.

He dumps ice cubes into the hollowed-out rind of the
cantaloupe. Goes to the kitchen table. His chair has one of
those inflatable-donut cushions sitting in it.

He puts the cantaloupe rind in the middle of the donut, drops
his pants, and slowly sits, hissing from the shock of the
cold. After a moment to acclimate, he reads the newspaper.

FELICIA, 37, bounces in, gives Jack a quick kiss on the forehead.

FELICIA
Hey there, numb-nuts!

He glares at her.

FELICIA
Oooh, is the anesthesia wearing
off? Tell you what, as soon as you
get back on your...feet
(giggle)
I’ll make you feel a lot better.

Jack goes back to reading the paper. She sits at the table.

FELICIA
Just think, no more mouths to feed-

JACK
No more tax deductions-

FELICIA
No more labor pains-

JACK
No brothers or sisters for Lily.

Felicia’s turn to glare. Jack finds the sports section,
ignores her. Felicia stands.

FELICIA
We agreed on this, Jack.

JACK
Hey, it’s done, right? Agree or
disagree doesn’t matter anymore.

Felicia shakes her head, pissed, and marches out. Jack
shifts in his seat, grimacing

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