Following is a screenplay for sitcom pilot I wrote in 2004. It was inspired by a night of rum and the thought of comedian Ron White and actress Kyra Sedgwick in a TV show together. Since then, Kyra’s got her own TV show, and Ron’s run out of material. The text is complete, but not yet screenplay formatted. And, I never actually got around to writing a 2nd episode to shop-around, so here the project sits. Enjoy.
Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Page 9, Page 10, Page 11,
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“SOUR NOTES”
(Pilot Screenplay)
by
D.L.K.
January 11, 2004
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page2
PLAYERS:
{Series Characters}
Marley Elms- Main Character, Former music professor, Piano teacher with a hobby of musical comedy in nightclubs.
Sarah Sheldon- love interest.
Albert Dennison- student, 14y old
Samantha- student, 10 y old
Fuzzbutt the cat
Bar extras
{Pilot-only characters}
Prof. Hollis McAierlane- Old University Professor
Prof. Laurence Pugh- University Professor
Prof. Bob Miller- University Professor
Daniel Baker- Dean of the University, Statue Model
Prof. Leslie Nettles
(Working Persona: Actress Angela Bettis playing the introverted main character from the horror movie “May”(2002) but as a teacher, and not killing anyone)
Prof. Sally Diangelis
(Working Persona: Actress Janeane Garofalo trying to be annoying)
Frank- University Security guard
Mr. Shawn Herring- of apartment 1C
(Working Persona: Actor Julian McMahon from the TV series “Nip/Tuck” being mildly gay)
2 Hics in a pickup
(Working Persona: Anyone from the movie ‘Deliverance”)
Running time: 20min
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<SCENE: Early morning, rain pelting against the windows of a nicely furnished bedroom in enormous apartment in <Georgetown. A disheveled older man laying in bed partially clothed in evening clothes, snoring loudly, one foot on the floor. <Bed covers all over. Empty cheap wine bottle on night stand with a wind-up clock. A cat walks on the bed, look at the man, <and sits on his chest.
ELMS: (Snore) (cough) Arrgh!
<Man jostles and cat jumps off. Groggily, he rolls out of bed, and on to floor with a wet thump. There he finds a tipped wine <glass with some left in inside. His eyes open a little more.
ELMS: Ohhhh. Breakfast. (Swallows..and chokes. Look at cat patiently looking down at him from foot of bed). You peed in this, didn’t you? (Cat runs away).
Man staggers up, looks back at his night stand clock, picks it up, shakes it, and notices the watch on his wrist.
ELMS: Oh God! (Drops clock, runs out of bedroom, grabs a briefcase and shoes from top of a wine and paper covered baby grand piano, and stumble out door)
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<SCENE: ELMS, still in disheveled evening clothes and holding a briefcase, runs (or quickly staggers) wildly down the street <through the pouring rain. He’s waving his arms and yelling (presumably for a cab) but none would stop
<SCENE: ELMS runs across courtyard on a university campus. He pauses for a second to look up at a large bronze statue <placed nearby the door to the building he was hurrying toward. The new statue, a thin tall older man holding a large book, <politely smiling, and waving into the empty courtyard, is placed awkwardly in the low concrete pedestal, broken wooden <slats still covering it legs. Still walking forwards, he bumps into a security guard.
FRANK: Hey! (Annoyed)
ELMS: Oh my! Sorry. Uh.. Nice statue.
FRANK puts his hands on his hips and ELMS rushes through the door.
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page5
<SCENE: Brightly lit lecture hall, with old chalkboard, and upright piano. Hall is quiet and mostly save for Five people in the <seats- Nettle, Miller, McAierlane, Pugh, Diangelis .
DIANGELIS: …So I told him, (gesturing wildly) If you can’t get us in to Michaels tonight, then just don’t bother calling me again…(she spoke aside to Nettles, who was extremely uncomfortable with this conversation, and was busy trying not to look at Diangelis and fade into the seat)
In bursts a soaking-wet bum mostly dressed in dirty evening cloths carrying a briefcase, fumbling with his glasses. He jogs toward the podium in front of the chalkboard.
ELMS: I am so sorry I’m late, I…(looks up, seeing an empty auditorium, save a few faculty members in the front). I guess I am late.
MILLER: Actually you’re right on time. Didn’t you read the Memo?
MCAIERLANE: He obviously just came in. (Incredulously) He hasn’t seen it.
MILLER: Oh, you were expecting to see a class. Baker cancelled it.
PUGH: He cancelled all our classes.
ELMS: (wiping the water from his face) Why is my class cancelled? (Door opens)
BAKER: I thought I called this meeting
BAKER, a thin, tall, older man holding a small day-planner and looking suspiciously like a grim version of the statue outside, stands in the door looking at ELMS. He confidently walks to the podium, motions ELMS toward the seats. Prof. ELMS gathers his papers, glasses, and cloths, and sits down awkwardly in squeaky auditorium seats.
BAKER: I’ll keep this brief. The new government grants have requirements for engineering and technology curricula which we now need to meet. Unfortunately, the only areas that we can cut are from our Arts departments. As of now, all of you, except Mr. Mcaierlane, are no longer professors at this university. Professor McAierlane, you are now reassigned to Physics department with an adjunct professorship in freshman laboratory physics.
All look at MCAIERLANE, somewhat astonished
PUGH: How the hell did that happen?
MCAIERLANE: Before my lengthy work in interior space design, I received a degree in physics.
ELMS: From who, Newton himself?
Mcaierlane furrowed his wrinkled eyebrows in disgust.
MILLER: Well thanks for giving us a little heads-up. What are we supposed to do now?
BAKER: I know this is sudden. I received the new budget information last night. As a matter of fact, we already over budget for the year by just having all of you here now. That reminds me.. Leslie, I believe Finance wants to talk to you about a secretarial position. (Her eyes begin to bug out of her head). I understand this will be difficult, but I also know that most of the music staff have students they teach personally outside of the school, as well as other paying sidelines (addressing Elms personally.)
Staff chuckle
ELMS: Our students don’t pay that well. Anyway, any other “Sidelines” that “some” (leaning forwards in his seat) of us may have my not pay at all.
EOS
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page6
<SCENE: [CROSSFADE] A dark smokey nightclub, one small spotlight on man sitting on a tall stool surrounded by dark <tables. He holds a mic in one hand, and a highball in the other. Camera comes around from behind to show the man is Prof. <Elms. He’s talking and looking longingly into his drink.
ELMS: (playing a couple of chords, and stops)… I mean, yes I ‘do’ have piano students. But some of these teachers taught Interior Design and crap, they’re just screwed now. It’s hard to find good jobs out there. It was all very presumptuous of him (takes a drink). And I tell him in front of everyone “this stuff may not pay at all. This isn’t funny, and you know it.” (Pointing to no one). So he looks up at me and says “Good. Then it should fit nicely into one of your routines” (Shakes his head)
EOS.
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page7
<SCENE: ELMS practice room, which is nothing but a messy book-filled corner of the living room next to the foyer, <containing a baby-grand piano. Elms paces the floor as a 10 yr old girl massacres chopsticks on the piano.
ELMS: Take your time. Concentrate. (Wincing)
She continues, unabated by the horrible sound. AN egg-timer in the corner goes off and a gleeful Mr Elms runs to the door.
ELMS: Well Samantha, looks like times-up (smiling).
SAMANTHA: (still playing) I’ve really been trying. I hope it sounds better this time.
ELMS: It’s a great improvement over the last (chokes) 12 times. But don’t worry, I’ll burn the piano when you’re done. Shoves her out the door.
Albert, a mischevious14-year old student walks in from the foyer. Samantha picks-up her coat from the rack.
ELMS: Oh, Samantha, could you bring in some matches next time.
She whips around, glaring, as he slams the door in her face.
ELMS: And of course today…it Chopin!
ALBERT: No…NO Not again. I hate this. Why that crap all the time? (Sitting at the piano)
ELMS: Well, you can choose to think of it 2 ways, whichever you like best. You’re so good at it, I just love hearing you play it. Over and Over. …Or…..You suck so bad at it that you’re going to play it till you get it right. How’s that?
ALBERT: Totally unfair.
ELMS: Page 156. Let begin. (Albert begins to play. Fairly well, actually). (Pause) Shoulders back. (Pause) Don’t speed up. (Etc.)
The camera spends a few moments observing Albert play, with Mr Elms barking commands in the background. Albert hits a series of wrong notes and restarts the phrase.
ELMS: Sit up straight
Albert shifts his eyes toward Mr Elms’s direction and continues playing. Albert loses his place and restarts another phrase, continuing to play.
ELMS: Tempo
Albert’s eyes close slightly, and he slows down. No reaction. He turns toward Elms. Professor Marley Elms is sitting across the room, in his chair with feet up, reading the newspaper and listening to sports in a pair of large reference headphones. Albert, totally frustrated, stands and slams the book of Chopin to the floor. This startles ELMS as the newspaper flies into the air
EOS.
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page 8
<SCENE: ELMS practice room later that evening. Over the piano, Elms sits with pretty, stylishly-dressed older woman. <They’re both sitting on the piano bench as he plays a few phrases. 2 wine glasses sit on the top.
ELMS: It’s funny. Albert doesn’t even need me there. He knows everything he needs, but just doesn’t practice enough. Nothing to do but get into trouble at home. His parents buy that kid everything except the one thing he needs- a piano. He could make a career of it someday if he’s just,
SHELDON: what?
ELMS: aa-pp-pp-ll-yy himself.
SHELDON: Ahhh. Sounds vaguely familiar. (Sips the wine) The great mystery of modern education. Well, Mr. Professor person, what exactly does APPLY YOURSELF mean?
He looks at her, frustrated.
ELMS: It means, of course..I don’t know what the hell that means. It means he’s a lazy, spoiled rich kid that needs his butt kicked in order to get up in the morning.
She looks at him slyly
ELMS: I’m sorry. My government just found-out that music theory can’t build bombers, My university just found out that I’ve been teaching music theory all this time and bombed me. My students don’t need me… (Exacerbated)
SHELDON: Yea, but you’re still funny.
ELMS: Now you’re just trying to get in my pants. I’m on to you.
SHELDON: Something’s wrong here. You’re being too..I don’t know. Calculating.
He looks at her
SHELDON: Ha! You don’t really remember last night. Damn it- Marley
He begins to blubber
SHELDON: You said to me if you tell people close to you too much about yourself, they’ll use it against you. So, You should only open up to people you don’t know.
ELMS: Hey, that pretty smart. What else did I say?
SHELDON: (Put-off) If you remembered, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
ELMS: Hey that’s pretty smart too. (Looks down) Listen, this was one of the crappiest days I’ve had (swallow) all week. I don’t want to pile it on you.
SHELDON: (She smiles) When are you going to finally trust me, Mar? Hmm? I can take it.
They kiss. Nice long one.
ELMS: (quietly) you should see me play without using my fingers
quick kiss again
SHELDON: I wondered why the keys were so sticky.
Kissing, smiling
EOS
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page9
<SCENE: Just after sunset, ELMS, carrying a large case, exits the university building next to Baker’s statue, which is no <longer there. He stares at the empty base as he walks by. Coming up the road, he goes to hail a taxi and sees NETTLES <standing next to the statue covered in wood scraps and rope beside the road as well.
ELMS: Leslie! Here on a Sunday night?
NETTLES: You…You’re here too, Marley.
ELMS: Well…I was just cleaning out my desk. (Smiles, and looks over the statue teetering on the curb). Um…what’s this?
NETTLES: (Looks down the road nervously). Eh…Baker wanted some modifications. Waiting for the truck. (She pushes the statue back up)
They both pause. She looks at him.
NETTLES: Marley, Maybe you could..(she pushes the statue back up again)..watch this for a second. I need to find the truck. So, maybe you.. You know…
ELMS: Oh. Sure! No Problem. (Working his way to side of the statue where she was standing. He wedges his foot underneath the edge of the pallet to keep it from tipping) You go on ahead, I’ll wait here with it.
NETTLES: Really?! I really appreciate it. Won’t keep you long…They should just be around the corner. (She runs off)
ELMS waves and fumbles with the heavy statue as it tries to tip off the curb. Pause. As he pushes it back up again, FRANK slowly walks up, observing them both.
ELMS: Hey…Frank (pushing the statue off his foot- causing him pain). Just waiting for the truck.
FRANK: The truck?
ELMS: Yea..the…truck…? (He looks down the road with a mild smile, which slowly turns to confusion)
ELMS sees Nettles squished between 2 huge hairy guys in dirty overalls slowly drive past in a beaten pick-up truck. She smacks the driver and nervously whispers:
NETTLES: Drive! Keep Driving- Idiot!
ELMS watches as the pickup belches some smoke and peels away. ELMS looks back at FRANK while fighting with the statue and his case.
ELMS: Uh…(laughs)…see, uh.. I guess there was going to be some modifications, or something.. (smiling- worried)
FRANK: Oh..there’s gonna be some modifications. (He puts his hand on his baton). I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.
ELMS stares at him with fear, suddenly lets go of the statue and runs up the street. FRANK takes off, but the statue begins to topple over. FRANK stops and turns around to grab it.
FRANK: You hold it right there! (Yelling up the street). Elms! (Pulling the statue back onto the curb.)
EOS
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page10
<SCENE: Elms practice room. Albert walks in to see his favorite copy of Chopin, with a red bow tied around it, sitting on <the piano.. He looks at Elms like a beaten dog.
ALBERT: You told Samantha you were going to burn the piano. Why is it still here?
ELMS: Listen, I don’t do this to you because I’m mean or sadistic. (Pause, as he turns away)
…though, I’m sure it’s a factor… (he walks off) Page 135! BEGIN! (Pointing in air and grinning uncontrollably)
Albert rips open the bow and begins to play. After a few moments, he looks over to Elms and sees him enjoying today’s game in his favorite chair, facing out te window, occasionally shouting random commands. Albert smiles. While playing various notes with one hand, he pulls a Single-handle hacksaw from his pocket, and leans over to begin cutting through the front leg of the piano.
Slowly, methodically, and occasionally stopping to play normally for his teachers sake, he works his way through the leg at an angle. As he progresses, the saw binds in the leg and he frantically tries to free it. He does so just as Elms looks up, and rushes back to the keys to play normally. When Elms returns to his game, Albert begins working on the last part of the leg until he hears a loud snap. He quickly returns the blade to his pocket and checks to see if Elms heard it. He’s safe.
Albert survey’s the damaged leg as it stresses from the weight. Albert begins playing with more exuberance until finally a climax in the song, and he pounds down on the keys. There’s an incredible bang as the piano leg lets go, and Albert flies back from the instrument. The other front leg punctures the floor beneath it, and the entire keyboard crashes to the floor. An image of a flying cat jumps through the background. Mr Elms headphones fly into the air with his cat and he whips around to see Albert on the floor and his prize possession fall into bits. They look at each other.
<SCENE: The apartment of Mr. Herring in 1C is an electric mix of old wallpaper and paneling of the apartment and ultra <modern furniture. He enjoys gesturing and pacing back and forth while talking on the phone. He is currently occupied with <doing all three at the same time.
MR HERRING OF 1C: (on the phone) …and I told him mauve wouldn’t go for his skin type…
Suddenly, a muffled gunshot sound stops him in his tracks. A long, thin, black, gracefully-carved leg of a baby grand piano punctures the ceiling near a light fixture. Pieces of plaster and dust trickle through the air. Small fissures run through the ceiling from the errant leg. Mr Herring, still with phone to ear, stops in mid word, and stares at the ceiling like a Kentucky deer caught in a truck’s headlamps.
MR. HERRING OF 1C: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (matter-of-factly)
The cracked plaster gives way and most of a very messy baby grand piano, 300 lbs of cracked plaster, and 100 lbs of rotted wood explode into Mr Herring’s living room. Mr Herring Leaps across the floor to the safety of an Idea footstool. A shocked Albert and a horrified Mr. Elms look down through the gaping hole at Mr Herring.
ALBERT: OH WOW! Too Cool!
EOS
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page11
<SCENE: Camera pulls away from a piece of unfinished engineered flooring covering a large hole in a floor. On the flooring <sat a undersized player piano with missing keys. In front of the piano, a short rusty bar stool with a beer logo on the seat, and <a horrified Albert by it’s side.
ELMS: I have a present for you. (Holds up a tattered copy of Chopin)
Albert, dejected, plops down on the barstool in the livingroom as the foyer door closes in front of the camera.
<Crossfade to next scene
<SCENE: [Crossfade] Another seedy closterphobic nightclub with Elms center-stage
ELMS: Where do I begin? (Laughing)
fade out
EOS.
Credits
End of Episode.
