by Peter Ackers
SNATCHED
Copyright 2013 Peter Ackers
INT. old kitchen - night
We slowly PAN ACROSS a room. It looks like a household kitchen from the turn of the twentieth century. We pass an old fireplace, an ironing board with an old World War 1 army uniform draped over it. Then we pass a baby’s cot with a sleeping plastic baby in a blanket, and sweep by a rocking chair with a mannequin housewife sitting dressed in clothing from that era. If we think we’re in the past, that illusion is dispelled when we see a table move into shot: there is a MOBILE PHONE on it, which starts to RING.
A man now appears, moving into shot to answer the phone. This is NICK HAYNES, late thirties, somewhat handsome, lean, but otherwise nondescript and plain. His clothing is as modern as his phone.
nick (into phone)
Hey.
(beat)
At work. I told you.
(CONT.)
(beat)
No, I didn’t say I’d be home by seven. I said I’d be finished by seven.
(beat)
No, I am finished. Work is all done and dusted. I’m walking out right now. I’m looking right at my car. I’ve just beeped the alarm. Did you hear it? I’ll be back by half past.
(beat)
I haven’t forgotten the shops. I know we need the milk. Look, see you in half an hour.
He hangs up, puts the phone in his pocket.
nick (annoyed)
I didn’t forget we need milk because you’re always bitching about your tits drying up.
Nick walks across the room, moving towards us, and we PULL BACK THROUGH GLASS TO REVEAL:
INT. MUSEUM, corridor, WW1 exhibit - NIGHT
The room is behind a large window in a wall. A sign on the wall explains the exhibit: “KITCHEN, 1916.” The corridor is adorned with other exhibits, some free-standing, some wall-mounted, all from World War 1. Nick exits through a door that’s flush with the wall and closes it behind him, locking it.
concourse
Nick strolls. He meets up with a security guard called DAVE who’s leaning against a wall. They start to walk together.
DAVE
All finished, Mr. Haynes?
nick
Yep. More unpaid overtime.
DAVE
The curse of the salaried executive. Swap you.
nick
Couldn’t handle the nights, Dave.
DAVE
The world’s a bad place at night, for sure.
nick
(laughing)
I meant the solitude, Dave. And what you trying to do, get danger money out of me? It’s quiet round here. Kids setting fire to the bins, that’s about the worst of it. Maybe I should make you and Harry commission-based. You know, like five pounds for every burglar captured?
DAVE
Can’t get complacent in this job, boss. Being in the security business is like racing a formula one car. Take your eyes off the road for a second and bam!
nick
The day we start getting lunatics climbing the walls like spiders, I’ll hire you some young buck trigger-happy sidekick.
DAVE
My kind are a dying breed, Mr. Haynes. Good old fashioned men who put their time in and know their values. Your young buck sidekick would probably karate kick eight burglars at once, but then he’d sell their kids drugs and steal out the vending machines.
nick
Sounds like one of those coveted values of yours is extreme prejudice against today’s youth.
DAVE
Been in the security game nineteen years, Mr. Haynes. I’ve seen everything there is to see. There’s things criminals do these days that would shock you if you aren’t exposed to the ways of the world. Your young buck sidekick would shit himself if I showed him some of the haunts I’ve been posted at. Don’t learn that kind of hard-nosed resolve in one night.
This conversation is turning too deep for a Saturday night. Nick is saved from further lecture when his PHONE RINGS. He pulls it and cancels the call. Dave seems to notice Nick’s annoyance.
DAVE
How’s the family, Mr. Haynes?
nick
Don’t ask.
DAVE
How’s everything but the family, Mr. Haynes?
nick
I saw the news today, Dave. Eight dead in a suicide bomb attack in Africa somewhere. So I guess everything else in my life is okay.
DAVE
A good attitude, sir.
nick
Till I watch the news tonight and hear about another Hollywood star getting twenty million for a film. Then all will turn shit again.
DAVE
Eight years next month since I lost my wife.
Nick considers this, guiltily.
nick
(beat)
I’ve got my wife and son and my front teeth, so I guess life is cool.
DAVE
A good attitude, sir.
EXT. museum - NIGHT
The South Yorkshire Museum of War is a bland, single storey building that would sit in the shadows of the bigger, surrounding edifices on a sunny day.
Nick and Dave exit through the glass double doors.
dave
Well, goodnight, Mr. Haynes. Won’t see you tomorrow, I hear.
nick
No. Got the little man to watch tonight. So I’ve swapped Sunday for Wednesday, in case I get no sleep. Nights aren’t my thing, Dave. Last time I saw a three in the morning, I was hellraising at college.
dave
So we’ve got Mr. Tanks to deal with tomorrow?
nick
Sorry about that.
dave
Another one to work on while you’re up all night?
nick
Fire away.
dave
What’s the difference between a prostitute and a bowling ball?
Nick seems to think about this question.
nick
Get back to you on that one.
dave
Goodnight. I’ll keep the place safe.
nick
Watch out for ninjas.
dave
Hoodies are scarier these days.
Nick salutes. Dave locks the doors and vanishes back into the silent belly of the building.
Nick pulls his car keys and presses the button on the key fob. Nothing happens. He holds the key fob to his temple, presses it again, and the lights of a car in the small car park flick on with a BEEP.
nick
I can’t believe that trick works.
EXT. haynes house, front - NIGHT
A quaint street, all home-owners, all detached bungalows with square front lawns. Nick’s car pulls into the driveway, which runs along the side of the property. A six-feet fence and wooden gate block access to the rear, but the gate is swinging open and banging shut in the wind.
Nick shuts off his car and exits, carrying cartons of baby milk. He puts them on top of the car and heads towards the swinging gate.
nick
Bloody gate.
He closes the gate. The latch is on the rear side so he has to reach over the top to lock it. He returns to his car and picks up the milk.
