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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.

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               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               C/U of a hand. It lays limp, running unnaturally across the
               screen, almost suspended in air, the world tilts, and the
               hand is now draped down, a empty can lays next to it.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               A young man lays face down on his bed, he is PAUL. We can
               only see his back, his arm is draped down one side of the
               bed, the can still lies there. We hold there, waiting.
               After a few seconds, the alarm clock sounds. He stirs, then
               moves, trying to turn it off.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               C/U on a shelf, there are several crushed cans of rum and
               coke lined up on the shelf. A hand reaches out and takes
               them down, one by one.

                                                              CUT TO:



               EXT. APARTMENT EXIT - DAY

               C/U of the recycling bin as a hand full of cans and a
               bottle crash into it. We hear footsteps move back into the
               apartment and the door close.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         New day, same start.
                             (beat)
                         Clean up the old mess, lie to
                         myself, and then prepare to make
                         a new mess all over again. 

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               We see over the top of a typewriter. Paul sits down in
               front of it and looks down.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         Everyday I wake up and kid myself
                         that this'll be the day I write
                         that paragraph. That today I'll
                         break the block, tear down the
                         wall.

               Paul looks across the desk.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               C/U shot of a vodka bottle laying next to three shot
               glasses.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               Paul turns back to the typewriter.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         But everyday I'm wrong.

                                                              CUT TO:



               EXT. BOTTLESHOP - DAY

               The shot is perfectly still, the bright lights of the
               bottleshop are almost blinding. Paul walks inside. He
               emerges a few seconds later, carrying a brown paper bag. He
               turns and walks along the sidewalk. Suddenly a young boy
               runs past and trips, skinning his knee. The young boy
               begins to cry and looks up at Paul. Paul looks back, then
               turns and walks away.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               Paul is sitting at his desk. Drinking and staring at his
               typewriter.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         It had been 11 months since I
                         last wrote anything decent. 11
                         months since I had moved away
                         from my painful memories and
                         began creating new ones.
                             (beat)
                         It always begins the same. Just
                         one. Then one more. By then I'm
                         in.
                             (beat)
                         One small drink, One small drink
                         is all the devil needs.

                                                             FADE TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

               Paul sits in front of a typewriter. He is swaying back and
               forth, too drunk to sit. Slowly and unsurely he stands up
               and stumbles to the bed. We ignore him, pushing in on the
               page loaded up into his typewriter. There is a single line
               of writing typed up. We get closer and closer, until we can
               see what he has written. The image becomes clearer.
               Suddenly we see it, "Have you seen my deadlights?"

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

               C/U of Paul's face. He has passed out.

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - DAY

               We are once again in the top corner of the room. Looking
               down and Paul, who is this time on his back. An old 1930's
               movie plays on the TV. He stirs, wakes and slowly pulls
               himself of the bed. He walks up to his writing table and
               picks up an empty bottle.

               C/U of the vodka bottle. It has a post-it note stuck on it.
               It reads, "Paul, Cut down on your drinking, Love, Paul"



               ANGLE ON:

               Paul's face as he reads the note.

                                   PAUL
                             (to himself)
                         Son of a bitch.

               He screws up the note and turns back. Stopping briefly to
               look in the mirror. He moves once again into the bedroom.
               He looks up at the TV.



               ANGLE ON:

               The TV. Two men talk over a bar.



               ANGLE ON:

               Paul, who now has the remote in his hands, turns off the
               TV.

                                                            FADE OUT.

                                   UNKNOWN MALE (V.O.)
                         Goddammit Paul. What the fuck
                         have you done with yourself?

                                                             FADE IN:



               INT. BATHROOM - DAY

               Paul is sitting in his bathtub. Empty beer cans float
               around him. He is holding mobile phone to his ear. Paul is
               drunk and speaks with a slight slur.

                                   PAUL
                         What'd ya mean, Tom? I'm, doing
                         fine.

                                   TOM (V.O.)
                         You know what I mean, Paul. For
                         Christ's sakes, you were the most
                         talented kid that ever strode
                         into my office. I knew the minute
                         you walked through my door that
                         they would give you the grant. I
                         knew it straight off, and when I
                         read your work. I was certain,
                         and I was right. What have you
                         done with it? Huh? You get in
                         that accident and you take off
                         all the way up there and drink
                         yourself stupid. I believed in
                         you, man.

                                   PAUL
                         I know you did, Tom, I know, but
                         I...

                                   TOM (V.O.)
                         And what have you given me for
                         it? Huh? I've got the bosses on
                         my back asking what you've
                         written, and I got nothing to
                         show them! I recommended you,
                         Paul! I stuck my neck out. Have
                         you even written anything? Or
                         have you just pissed away the
                         money?

                                   PAUL
                         I write, I write when I can, and
                         I, write all sorts of stuff, you
                         know...

                                   TOM (V.O.)
                         No, Paul. I don't know. You've
                         got two weeks to give me at least
                         100 solid pages of work, or they
                         are going to take action. You
                         signed a fucking contract, Paul!
                         They're going to hold you legally
                         responsible! You know what they
                         are going to do to me if you
                         don't come through? When you
                         needed more time, I backed you,
                         when you needed more time, I
                         backed you. I told them that you
                         were making great progress, and
                         that your research was costing
                         more than they thought. I knew I
                         was lieing to them, but I did it
                         anyway. What were you
                         researching, huh? How to be a
                         useless drunk?

                                   PAUL
                             (yelling)
                         I had issues, Tom. I can't just
                         jump through your, your...
                         fucking hoops whenever, you,
                         say... jump.

                                   TOM (V.O.)
                         It's not my hoops your jumping
                         through Paul, it's the big guys,
                         and they are sick and tire...

               Paul loses his grip on his mobile and it splashes into the
               bath.

                                   PAUL
                         Shit, fuck.

               He scrounges around and pulls the mobile back out, putting
               in against his ear.

                                   PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Tom? Tom. Tom? You there?

               He pauses. There is no response, the phone is dead. Paul
               throws the phone back in the water.

                                   PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Shit.

               He buries his head into his hands. 

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

               Paul sits at his desk, drunk. Looking at the typewriter.
               Suddenly the phone rings. He picks it up, still slurring.

                                   PAUL 
                         Hello?

                                   LINDA (V.O.)
                         Paul? It's Linda.

                                   PAUL
                         Sis! How you going? Long time no
                         see.

                                   LINDA (V.O.)
                         Not too bad.

                                   PAUL
                         Listen, I appreciate the call and
                         all, but it's kind of a bad time
                         for me, see I gotta finish this
                         chapter or I'm gunna get...

               Linda cuts in.

                                   LINDA (V.O.)
                         Paul, It's Dad. He's dead.

               Paul's expression wipes. He sits blankly for awhile.

                                   LINDA (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         You there?

               Paul snaps out of it and chokes out

                                   PAUL
                         Uh, When's the funeral?

                                   LINDA (V.O.)
                         It's been and gone, Paul. I
                         thought it was better if you
                         weren't there, I didn't want you
                         to upset mum.

               Paul sits there. Silent. He slowly lowers the phone and
               places it on the cradle. We here Linda's voice over the
               phone grow faint until the handset hits the base.



               INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY

               There is a grainy video shot from a hand held camera. Paul
               sits in a chair, looking very nervous.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         Now I'm going to ask you a
                         serious of questions. I need you
                         to answer as truthfully as you
                         can. Are you ready?

                                   PAUL
                         Yeah.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         OK, for these questions, I need
                         you to answer out of, Never, Less
                         than monthly, Monthly, Weekly or
                         Daily/Almost daily. Do you
                         understand?

                                   PAUL
                         Yeah...

                                   WORKER (O.S.) 
                         How often do you have six or more
                         drinks on one occasion?

                                   PAUL
                             (beat)
                         Daily.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         or almost Daily?

                                   PAUL
                             (pausing again)
                         Yeah.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         How often during the last year
                         have you found that you were
                         unable to stop drinking once you
                         had started?

                                   PAUL
                         Daily/Almost daily

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         How often during the last year
                         have you failed to do what was
                         normally expected from you
                         because of drinking?

                                   PAUL
                         Daily.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         How often during the last year
                         have you needed a first drink in
                         the morning to get yourself going
                         after a heavy drinking session?

                                   PAUL
                         Daily or Almost Daily.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         How often during the last year
                         have you had a feeling of guilt
                         or remorse after drinking?

                                   PAUL
                         Once or twice a week, so...
                         Weekly.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         How often during the last year
                         have you been unable to remember
                         what happened the night before
                         because you had been drinking?

                                   PAUL
                         Weekly.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         OK, I just need a yes or no for
                         this one. Has a relative, friend,
                         or a doctor or other health
                         worker been concerned about your
                         drinking or suggested you cut
                         down?

                                   PAUL
                         Yes.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         Within the last year?

                                   PAUL
                         Yes.

                                   WORKER (O.S.) 

               OK, same deal for this one. Have you or someone else been
               injured as the result of your drinking?

                                                         JUMP CUT TO:



               EXT. STREET - DAY

               Paul is screaming at someone inside a house. He dives into
               his car.



               QUICK CUT TO:

               A young boy bounces a ball onto the street. Tires screech
               as a car begins to speed off. The camera pushes quickly
               into the kid.
               He has enough time to look up in fright and shock. The is a
               screech of tires braking and the video cuts right before we
               hear a loud, 'thud' sound.



               QUICK CUT TO:

               C/U of Paul's face. Still swinging from the break. He is
               scared, shocked and frozen in fear all at the same time. We
               hear him whisper.

                                   PAUL
                         Cody...

                                                              CUT TO:

               Paul is frozen in place. There is a long pause.

                                   WORKER (O.S.) 
                         I'll repeat the question. Have
                         you or someone else been injured
                         as the result of your drinking?

               There is a long pause before Paul speaks.

                                   PAUL
                             (shaking)
                         Yes.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         Was it in the last year?

                                   PAUL
                             (breaking down)
                         No.

                                   WORKER (O.S.)
                         Just give me a few seconds to add
                         these up and I'll let...

               The workers voice fades into nothing. Slowly the video does
               too.



               INT. MOTEL BATHROOM - MORNING

               C/U of a sink. Suddenly there is an explosion of vomit. We
               pull back to show Paul hunched over the sink. Some vomit
               still around his mouth, he dry retches and slumps.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         Shit. How much did I drink last
                         night? Must of been a lot. I
                         can't even remember the last time
                         I puked. Shit. So sick. Feel so
                         sick. But all I can think about
                         is drinking some more.
                         Making everything disappear, make
                         the pain go away.

               Paul turns and leans against the sink. He glances up at the
               telephone sitting on the counter.

                                   PAUL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         No matter how fast you run.
                         You can never escape your demons.
                         No matter where you hide, they
                         know where you are. Perhaps the
                         only thing you can do, is turn
                         around and face them. Maybe then
                         they will leave you be. I wasn't
                         sure, but I had to find out. 

                                                         CUT TO BLACK

               There is a dial tone. Then a sound of the phone being
               picked up. A number is dialed, beeping with each digit
               pressed.

                                   FEMALE OPERATOR
                         Silver Top Taxis, how can I help
                         you?

                                   PAUL (V.O.) 
                         I need a taxi.

                                   FEMALE OPERATOR
                         Then you've called the right
                         number, sir. Congratulations.



               INT. BACK SEAT OF TAXI - DAY

               Paul is slumped in the corner of the taxi. He stares
               aimlessly out the window while the taxi continues on it's
               way, he rocks with the motion of the cab.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         I was sober, I was scared. I was
                         about to face everyone I had
                         turned my back on. I didn't know
                         how to feel. It had been awhile
                         since I had felt emotions, let
                         alone one's as strong as these.

               Paul looks down at his hands, which are shaking.

                                   PAUL (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         I was going home. After 11 months
                         I was going home. I had tried to
                         escape my problems but had
                         created new ones. It seemed like
                         there was no happy medium, no
                         fairy tale ending.
                         However this was going to end, it
                         was going to end bad That much I
                         knew. 

                                                            FADE OUT.



               EXT. PHONEBOOTH - DAY

               Paul walks into a phone booth. He picks up the receiver and
               places his coins in the phone. 

                                   PAUL
                             (into phone)
                         Hi, I need the number for
                         Westview Plains Motel.
                             (beat)
                         Connection, please.

               He looks around, almost from force of habit.

                                   PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Hey. I'm Paul Sh... uh, sure I'll
                         hold.
                             (beat)
                         Yeah, I, uh, had a reservation
                         under... Yeah, that's the one.
                         Uh, do you guys have a minibar in
                         the rooms? You do? Could you do
                         me a favour? Yeah. Could you
                         remove them from the room?
                         Thanks.

               He quickly hangs up. Breathing slowly.



               EXT. GRAVEYARD - DAY

               Paul stands over his father's grave. The wind blows his
               open shirt. He stands there for a few seconds.

                                   LINDA
                         What you thinking about?

               Paul turns around looks at Linda.

                                   PAUL
                         Nothing.

               There is a pause.

                                   LINDA
                         Why are you here Paul?

                                   PAUL
                         I don't know, I don't.

                                   LINDA
                         Why are you back?

                                   PAUL
                         I'm not.

                                   LINDA
                         Why did you isolate yourself like
                         that, Paul? Why did you turn your
                         back on us.

                                   PAUL 
                         After Cody's accident, I...

                                   LINDA
                             (pushing Paul)
                         Mum never blamed you!

                                   PAUL
                             (screaming back)
                         I BLAMED MY SELF! Me! Everywhere
                         I went people were looking at me,
                         looking at me like I was some
                         kind of monster. How could I live
                         like that? Around people who
                         hated me?

                                   LINDA
                         So you just took off? Left me
                         holding together the family?
                         Looking after Cody? You know Mum
                         barely looks at him? She acts
                         like he's dead. She can't even
                         deal with his problem let alone
                         take care of him. Dad was sick, I
                         needed you Paul, I needed your
                         help. Instead you took off like a
                         selfish fuck!

                                   PAUL
                             (whispered)
                         I'm sorry.

                                   LINDA
                         Sorry? 
                             (beat)
                         I missed out on the school.

                                   PAUL
                         What school?

                                   LINDA
                         That arts school? The one I'd had
                         my eyes on since I took up
                         acting? I flunked my performance.
                         I had absolute no energy from
                         looking after Cody.
                         No one else could. Mum wouldn't
                         have looked after him properly.
                         Dad was too sick by that stage.
                         Nan and Pop were off Caravaning
                         somewhere and we couldn't afford
                         a special school. That left me.

                                   PAUL
                         I'm sorry, Linda, I really am.

                                   LINDA
                         No your not. You say you are but
                         we both know you'll end up back
                         in your shitty little apartment,
                         as far away from here as
                         possible, still drinking yourself
                         a grave.

               Paul has nothing to say.

                                   LINDA (CONT'D)
                         Do you even know what you did to
                         Katie? Your girlfriend for 14
                         months and you just dump her and
                         leave? Out of the blue? I bet you
                         didn't even know about the baby,
                         did you?

               Paul looks up, absolute shock registers in his face.

                                   PAUL
                         What baby?

                                   LINDA
                         Katie was pregnant Paul, right
                         before you took off. She had only
                         just found out.

                                   PAUL
                         Did she have it?

                                   LINDA
                             (pause)
                         I don't know. She moved away
                         shortly after you left. She only
                         came back a month ago. 

                                   PAUL
                         So I could be, a father?

               Linda shrugs.

                                   PAUL (CONT'D)
                         Why didn't anyone tell me? For
                         Christ's sake!

                                   LINDA
                         You never cared about anything
                         when you were up there. I tried
                         to tell you, so many times. You
                         wouldn't have cared, you couldn't
                         have cared. If you want to know,
                         you'll have to go see Katie. Ask
                         her. Even if you don't do that.
                         You'll go see her anyway, and
                         you'll apologize to her. Make her
                         feel like it wasn't her fault.
                         Because I know that you can make
                         it at least a little bit easier
                         on her. For once in your life,
                         you have the chance to do
                         something good. Don't screw this
                         up.

               Linda turns and walks away. Paul stands there, looking at
               the ground.



               EXT. CAFE - DAY

               Katie sits across from Paul, who is smoking, hunched over,
               away from the table. There is a silence.

                                   KATIE
                         It's been awhile.

                                   PAUL
                         It has.

               There is another long pause.

                                   KATIE
                         I'm dating someone.

                                   PAUL
                         OK

                                   KATIE
                         Yeah.

                                   PAUL
                         What's his name?

                                   KATIE
                             (pausing)
                         uh, John?

               Paul looks up at her, she almost cringes. He turns around,
               leaving it accepted, without question.

                                   PAUL
                         OK

                                   KATIE
                             (nervously)
                         Yeah.

               Katie shifts uncomfortably.

                                   KATIE (CONT'D)
                         Why'd you have to leave, Paul?

               Paul's demeanor changes, he becomes angry. He spins around
               and faces Katie.

                                   PAUL
                         Why do you have to ask me that
                         question? Huh? You know why I
                         goddamn left! Why the fuck did
                         you have to ask me that? 

                                   KATIE
                             (tearful)
                         I'm sorry, Paul, I shouldn't have
                         said it, I know, I'm sorry.

               Paul back around. He goes to take a drag of his cigarette
               but changes his mind and throws it on the ground.

                                   PAUL
                             (stuttering)
                         Jesus, I, ah, fuck, ah, I'm
                         going.

                                   KATIE
                             (worried)
                         What's wrong, Paul? Was it me,
                         I'm sorry, you don't have to
                         leave.

                                   PAUL
                         I gotta go, I have places to be.

               He turns and walks off. Leaving Katie confused and tearful.

                                                              CUT TO:



               EXT. CAFE ROAD - DAY

               Paul is walking away, in the background Katie is sitting
               tearful, having watched Paul take off on her for the second
               time. Voice's echo around his head. 

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         So I could be, a father?

                                   LINDA (V.O.)
                         If you want to know, you'll have
                         to go see Katie. Ask her.

               Paul stops. We are close enough to make out his tearful
               eyes.

                                   LINDA (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         Apologize to her. Make her feel
                         like it wasn't her fault.

               He turns around. Katie is openly sobbing into her hands.

                                   LINDA (V.O.) (CONT'D)
                         For once in your life, you have
                         the chance to do something good.
                         Don't screw this up.

               Paul turns back around. Sighs, and keeps walking.

                                                       FADE TO BLACK.

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                         Silver Top Taxis? I need a taxi.

                                   FEMALE OPERATOR (V.O.)
                         Certainly, sir. Where to?

                                   PAUL (V.O.)
                             (pausing)
                         As far away from here as
                         possible.



               INT. DOORWAY - INT

               Paul stumbles through his door, carrying a brown bag full
               of bottles. He rushes over and dumps them on the desk,
               removing a bottle of vodka. He take a glass and goes to
               pour it in but slips and knocks the glass off the table. He
               goes to pick it up but changes his mind and takes it out of
               the bottle. He staggers back and falls onto his bed, he
               goes to take another drink but bursts out crying half way
               through. Paul sits there

                                                              CUT TO:



               INT. BEDROOM - INT

               Paul is sitting in front of his typewriter.

                                   TOM (V.O.)
                         What were you researching, huh?
                         How to be a useless drunk?

               Paul looks up. Something in his face has changed. He looks
               down and his typewriter, and begins typing. Time begins
               moving faster and faster. We hear his voice as he types.

                                   PAUL (V.O.) 
                         This world is becoming more and
                         more confusing, more surreal. I
                         look around and I'm not sure what
                         I'm seeing. Memories have become
                         blurs, like smudges on an easel
                         and I can't pick up the brush and
                         make things right. I don't know
                         what I ever hoped to achieve. I
                         no longer know if my world is
                         real, or just a side effect. A
                         running gag, for someone else's
                         amusement. I know what I have
                         done. To myself, to others, and
                         the worst part is, I don't know
                         how to change it. I can't make it
                         better. But my mind is made up.
                         After 11 months I am finally able
                         to write, everything starts
                         flowing back. My pain, my hurt,
                         my life. I'll show them all.
                         Every last one.

               Time slows back down to normal. Paul stops typing, and
               pulls the last page from the typewriter, laying it down on
               top of a neatly stacked pile.

               He moves over to his desk, and picks up a glass bottle. He
               picks up a towel and wraps in up, then smashes it with his
               hand, he reaches under the cloth and picks up a shard of
               glass. "Bad Days" by 'The Flaming Lips' begins to play. He
               lowers the shard of glass off screen to where his hands
               sit. He pauses before looking down and slowing moving his
               hand in a cutting motion. He brings up the glass, which is
               now covered in blood. He looks at it for a second, with a
               tear in his eye. Then he lowers it, fumbles and repeats in
               again. He sways slowly back and forth. We slowly pull away
               and a soft montage comes in.

               Linda, looking down at another rejection letter.

               Paul's desk, which contains a manuscript neatly typed up.
               On the front page, there is the title, "The Inevitable
               Decline of the Western Civilization as seen through the
               eyes of a 19 year old Alcoholic Writer", followed by "100
               Pages".

               Back to Paul as he stares blankly off into the distance.

               Katie, as she cries on her bed, looking at a photo of a
               happy Paul.

               Paul again, as the camera pulls further away. We see the
               blood on his pants and wrists.

               Linda as she screws up the letter.

               The manuscript, as the front page blows open, there is a
               handwritten note on it. "Dedicated to Tom, a man who
               believed in me more than any other person ever did,
               including myself. I'm Sorry, Tom, I wish there was another
               way."

               Paul as the camera slows to a stop.

               Katie, as she wipes her tears, and looks over to the corner
               of the room, where a cradle sits neatly, their son inside.

               Paul, as he slumps on to his side. Dead.

                                                            FADE OUT.

               FIN.

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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.