Well. What happens here then? I literally haven’t the faintest clue right now. Okay, now I have the faintest clue: let’s meet their boss. They talk to the boss and the boss says… what? The boss has no point in this story. Away with them!
So what would this pair of oddball policepeople do once they’ve been to the crime scene? Paperwork. Donuts. Conspiracy theories. Interviewing suspects. Consulting the machine of death. Talking to the coroner. Putting up ads in the local newspaper. Talking to psychics.
I want them to consult the machine, but not just yet. Maybe if we switch to other characters?
It is difficult to carry plot through dialogue.
Also, Brook should totally be a workaholic. Wait, no she shouldn’t. BAM, framestory. Or maybe she should, and she’s trying not to be, but that’s not how you set up framestories. Screw it. It’ll become apparent after a few lines of this thing anyway.
And that’s when I lost interest in this script, my dear friends. Not to worry, not to worry: I will simply think of something else. Maybe a comic book script works better for the sort of things I have in mind. This particular script just didn’t have any soul. No main conflict. I figured out a way to make the frame story nice – by having it be a first date, which would end with a kiss for poor Brook, or something – but that just turned ridiculous. Part of the problem may be a complete lack, on my end, of ability to introduce scenes with only sounds. The friendly note of ‘SOUND: DRIPPING‘ would probably have evoked sewers rather than … the nondescript room I was imagining.
At least I wrote the greatest thing I ever have written:
Give me one of those air fresheners.
(sniffs it deeply)
Do you always carry these things around?
I don’t believe in deodorant. Usually it’s just one, but you know. Special circumstances.