-Real estate agent on his promotional videos for high-end homes (in the New York Times)
“Focusing too much on story takes away from the home. I’m not Quentin Tarantino.”
1 INT. CALIFORNIA CAFÉ – DAY
Four people sit in a booth, drinking cappuccinos. All wear black suits, white shirts, and black ties. They are MR. GOLD, MR. TEAL, MS. SAGE, and MR. PERIWINKLE. MR. GOLD is finishing a story.
… but enough about Madonna. (All laugh.) Now, prepare to be motherfucking impressed while I tell you about this house. But fair warning: My narrative has so much goddamn power, it’ll transport us into a short, emotionally-charged video.
2 EXT. DRIVEWAY OF MANSION — DAY
The four characters walk up a crushed granite driveway to a Mediterranean-style mansion. MR. GOLD has an “I told you you’d be motherfucking impressed” expression. His companions look suitably motherfucking impressed.
“Not bad”? Don’t make me fucking shoot you. This neighborhood is highly desirable; it’s secluded, yet nearby to shops and restaurants. And your dicks would get hard if you knew about the school districts here.
3 INT. MANSION
The group enters a sleekly-furnished room with a grand piano.
This 4,500 square foot home boasts 5 bedrooms, 3 full baths—
Since when do homes boast?
MS. SAGE and MR. PERIWINKLE laugh.
It’s a figure of speech, you fucking infant.
Real estate lingo is such bullshit. “Three full baths” just sounds like the bathtubs have water in them.
Jesus fucking Christ, are you done? Yeah? Then let me continue.
4 INT. KITCHEN/FAMILY ROOM
This is a gourmet chef’s kitchen — that’s a fucking kitchen to you, Mr. Teal — with granite slab countertops, stainless steel appliances, and a center island where you can cut veggies or whatever the fuck.
That open-concept family room features artisan-laid hardwood floors. And stop smirking, you dirty-minded bastards. Its French doors open to the backyard, for great inside-outside flow. Speaking of which, look lively, cocksuckers.
5 EXT. BACKYARD WITH SALT WATER POOL AND KOI POND – DAY
Everywhere you look, there’s a new delight. What do you see over there, Mr. Periwinkle?
What? You shit-for-brains, that’s a gazebo! You’re almost as bad as Mr. Teal. Now follow me back inside and up these stairs…
6 INT. MASTER BEDROOM
There’s just one word for this bedroom, and it’s motherfucking “opulent.” And look at this panoramic view — you can see how close the beach is to here.
Then let’s walk over to it.
This is California, so we have to drive instead. (He holds up a BMW key fob.) Last one to the four-car garage is a rotten fucking egg!
7 EXT. SURFACE STREETS/BEACH – DAY
MR. GOLD drives the group in a black SUV. At the beach, they run in the surf, play paddleball, and pistol-whip and rob a group of tourists.
MR. GOLD (voice over)
Alright, let’s bring it back to Earth, you sons of bitches.
8 INT. CAFÉ – DAY
The four characters are back in their booth.
It’s a breathtaking house, but there has to be a catch.
It’s a small detail, and we’re gonna take care of it. First, I’ll pay the check, and you pussies leave a tip.
No way. I only tip when the waitperson does something special—
MS. SAGE pulls a snub nose .357 Magnum out of her purse and aims it at his head.
—and our waitperson was fucking exceptional. Here’s twenty bucks, you goddamn lunatic.
Now that that’s settled, shall we?
9 EXT. WALKWAY OF MANSION — DAY
Expensive cars fill the driveway and FESTIVE SOUNDS are heard from inside.
What the fuck — people already live here?
MR. GOLD (pulling a 9MM from his coat pocket)
At the moment.
10 INT. OF THE MEDITERRANEAN HOME
The room is filled with balloons and happy partygoers, and a “HAPPY 35th BIRTHDAY, TODD!” banner hangs overhead. A smiling woman plays the piano, but as the front door opens and the group enters, she hits a WRONG NOTE and stops.
There is SILENCE as the partygoers look at Mr. Gold — then a man in a party hat sprints for the French doors.
GUNSHOTS ring out as MR. GOLD fires. The man in the party hat drops and the partygoers begin to SCREAM. MR. TEAL pulls a .45 from a shoulder holster, MR. PERIWINKLE produces a sawed-off shotgun, and MS. SAGE retrieves her Magnum.
The four unleash a fusillade of GUNFIRE at the partygoers. Most are hit as they run for the French doors, and wrapping paper, blood, and a golden retriever explode across the room.
After the gunshots stop, the piano lurches to one side and COLLAPSES.
MR. GOLD (pointing at the bodies in the French doors)
Just look at that inside-outside flow!
MR. TEAL (reloading)
I’m sold — now let’s negotiate a price.
He points his gun at MR. GOLD, who responds in kind with his 9MM. MS. SAGE aims at MR. TEAL, MR. PERIWINKLE points his shotgun at her, and MR. GOLD pulls out another gun and covers MR. PERIWINKLE.
Does this mean you don’t want to pay for closing costs, you piece of shit?
MR. TEAL (smiling)
Bingo. But it looks like we’ve got ourselves a real Mexican stand—
Don’t say it.
That’s considered pejorative.
MR. TEAL (apologetically)
Oh, fuck, of course. Sorry about that, everyone!
11 EXT. GLAMOUR SHOT OF THE MANSION
Four GUNSHOTS are heard. As the screen fades to black, the home’s street address scrolls up on the screen.