The Big Nap: Chinatown

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INT. DARKENED CLASSROOM - NOON


NARRATOR sits at a messy desk, fingers looped through a cup of coffee, but otherwise motionless.


NARRATOR (VO): It was nap time in the classroom that never sleeps. Wednesday. I hate Wednesdays.


The camera pans across a room of "sleeping" children, though we can see some of them are peeking out from their red and blue sleeping mats. Some even whisper as though conspiring with each other.


NARRATOR (VO): One of these goons skedaddled with the school's mascot, a Maltese Falcon named Fluffy.


CUT TO:

A shot of a girl laying on her mat, wide awake, sucking a pacifier in the shape of a skull and crossbones,


NARRATOR (VO): My money was on Tabatha. She was trouble with a capital T, even if she didn't use one when writing her name. (maybe cut to a shot of old homework with atrocious handwriting here). She was always on the run from someone or something, and this morning it happened to be-


CUT TO:

A shot of a different girl in very strait-laced clothes, holding a teddy bear.


NARRATOR (VO): - Jackie G. Jackie had been on her first circuit as hall monitor when it happened. She was green as hell, and both of them knew it. Anyways, faced with her first taste of danger, Jackie choked like Bobby McKewon when someone leaves the lid off the Play-doh, and the only reason Tabatha's not halfway to Timbuktu right now is that she forgot to tie her shoes again. She always was her own worst enemy.


CUT TO:

The narrator back at the desk, eyes roving away from Tabitha and Jackie G. across the other sleeping members of the classroom.


NARRATOR (VO): Of course, just because Tabatha was running doesn't mean she did it. She was always running from something.


CUT TO:

A nervous-looking kid in an eye patch decorated with stickers.


NARRATOR (VO):

It could also be Freddie. Two weeks ago, got the ole sharpened pencil treatment from Olivia. Olivia had done the deed, and done the time, too. But I suspect-


CUT TO:

A boy, dressed in a full suit and tie, reclining with his hands behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. He is surrounded by fourth graders, also in suits, who instead of napping appear to be body guards.


NARRATOR (VO): -Jimmy was the real brains behind the hit. Freddie'd squealed on Hailey, a small-time line cutter. But on the street, everybody knows that there's only one thing that will get you a wedgie and a wet willie faster than not waiting your turn: turning rat on your friends. Sure, Jimmy and Freddie didn't seem connected, but Jimmy was the big cheese, and rats made him nervous. I'd love to get something on Jimmy, but I had nothing on him. What would he need with a Falcon?


CUT TO:

Freddie, twitching nervously.


NARRATOR (VO): Anyways, Freddie might have been looking to reestablish his street cred. Or maybe Jimmy was trying to get Freddie in his pocket. Who am I kidding, he's already in Jimmy's pocket. Hell, we all were.


CUT TO:

The door, which contains a frosted glass window that reads "Kindergarten" backwards. A silhouette appears in the window, and the door opens. A PRINCIPAL of the opposite sex of the narrator comes in and sits on the NARRATOR's desk.


PRINCIPAL: What's the status of the Fluffy Falcon case?


NARRATOR: I'm on it, boss. Don't worry.


PRINCIPAL: Actually, I've changed my mind about the whole thing.


NARRATOR: Changed your mind? What do you mean-


PRINCIPAL (raising a palm): Stop. You're off the case. Let's, uh, let's talk about it after work. Maybe we can discuss it after work, over a cup of coffee. There's that new place, Sleepy Dragon Tea.


The PRINCIPAL slips a matchbook with a green dragon on it across the desk.


NARRATOR: You can't take me off the case! I'm this close to blowing the whole thing wide open!


PRINCIPAL: It's done.


CUT TO:

Over the principal's shoulder, Jimmy is sitting up, watching their conversation intently. In his hands, he twirls a Maltese Falcon feather.


CUT TO:

The NARRATOR's face, as realization dawns. He looks to the PRINCIPAL, to JIMMY, and back again.


NARRATOR: But-


CUT TO:

PRINCIPAL puts a hand on NARRATOR's shoulder.


PRINCIPAL: Forget it. We'll talk about it in Chinatown.


The PRINCIPAL leaves as the NARRATOR's mouth falls open. The camera pulls up as the slowly circling fan casts its shadow across the room and saxophone music plays.


THE END



Created: Apr 28, 2017

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