Fwiffo
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.

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                                      "FWIFFO"

                                                                FADE IN:

               INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
                (JOHN, MARSHA)

               MARSHA, A PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN, RECLINES IN A HOSPITAL BED BY A
               SMALL BEDSIDE TABLE.  SHE'S ATTACHED TO AN I.V. DRIP AND A
               BEEPING HEART MONITOR.

               JOHN ENTERS FROM A DOORWAY, CARRYING A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS. 
               MARSHA SMILES.

                                   JOHN

                      What did the doctor say?

                                   MARSHA

                      About the heart condition? 

                      Inoperable.

                                   JOHN

                      How long do you have?

                                   MARSHA

                      Weeks.  Minutes.  No one knows.

                                   JOHN

                      You're dying, Marsha?

                                   MARSHA

                      I am dying, John.

               JOHN PLACES THE FLOWERS ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE.

                                   JOHN

                      There's something.

                                   MARSHA

                      I'm listening.

                                   JOHN

                      I love you, Marsha.

               MARSHA BEAMS.

                                   JOHN (CONT'D)

                      Wait a minute.  That's not all.

                                   MARSHA

                      Yes?

                                   JOHN

                      I want to have sex with you, Marsha.

                                   MARSHA

                      Well, that's very kind of you, John,

                      but...

                                   JOHN

                      I've been thinking about this for a

                      long time.  I definitely want to have

                      sex with you.

                                   MARSHA

                      John, I'm dying.

                                   JOHN

                      Of course.  How silly of me.  Silly

                      and rude.
                          (a beat)

                      Are you going to die very soon?

                                   MARSHA

                      I don't know.  I hope not.  The doctor

                      said soon.

                                   JOHN

                      Do you think, then, Marsha...

                                   MARSHA

                      Yes, John?

                                   JOHN

                      Do you mind if I have sex with you

                      after you die?

                                   MARSHA

                      What?!

                                   JOHN

                      I mean, you'll be dead, after all...

                                   MARSHA

                      I mind that idea quite a lot.  That is

                      a very, very bad idea, John.  

                                   JOHN

                      Yes, you're right.  Awful, terrible

                      idea.  Please forgive me, dear.

               A BEAT, THEN MARSHA LAUGHS NERVOUSLY.

                                   MARSHA

                      Yes, can you imagine?  The doctor

                      comes by and finds you in bed with my

                      body.

                                   JOHN

                      Actually, I have that all planned out.

               JOHN QUICKLY EXITS THE DOORWAY AND IMMEDIATELY RETURNS,
               DRAGGING A LARGE STEAMER TRUNK.

                                   JOHN (CONT'D)

                      I got this trunk.  There's a motel

                      down the street. 

                      After you die I can put your body in

                      this trunk, get you to the motel, have

                      sex, get your body back here, all

                      within forty-five minutes.

                                   MARSHA

                      John.

                                   JOHN

                      Yes?

                                   MARSHA

                      You see that I'm dying?

                                   JOHN

                      Yes.

                                   MARSHA

                      Under no circumstances, living or

                      dead, will I have sex with you.  The

                      idea is thoroughly disgusting to me. 

                      Utterly repellent.

                                   JOHN

                      Yes.  Of course.  I'm being

                      thoughtless, darling.  Completely

                      unforgivable.

                                   MARSHA

                      Let us drop the subject.

                                   JOHN

                      What if it wasn't me having sex with

                      you?

                                   MARSHA

                      Oh dear God.

                                   JOHN

                      What if it was a Pomeranian in a clown

                      costume?

                                   MARSHA

                      John--

                                   JOHN

                      I would be completely across the room,

                      videotaping--

                                   MARSHA

                      JOHN!!

               JOHN SNAPS TO ATTENTION.  MARSHA IS FURIOUS.

                                   MARSHA (CONT'D)

                      Listen to me, you twisted monkey!  You

                      sick little bestial necrophiliac freak

                      boy!  I'm not going to be stuffed into

                      a trunk and hauled off to a motel! 

                      And I'm not going to be rogered by

                      some Pomeranian while you videotape

                      it, you perverted stinking orangutan! 

                      Under no condition... Condition...

               THE HEART MONITOR EMITS A STEADY SHRILL TONE.  MARSHA DIES.

                                   JOHN

                      Marsha?

               JOHN GENTLY KISSES MARSHA'S HAND.  HE OPENS THE STEAMER TRUNK
               AND LIFTS OUT A POMERANIAN IN A CLOWN COSTUME.  HE WAGGLES
               THE DOG'S PAW IN A BYE-BYE GESTURE.

                                   JOHN (CONT'D)

                      Come on, Fwiffo.  Let's go home.

               JOHN DRAGS THE TRUNK AND THE DOG THROUGH THE DOOR.

                                                          FADE TO BLACK.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.