Cruel Inventions By Roger Kumble
CRUEL INVENTIONS by Roger Kumble based on the novel Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Choderlos De Laclos February 10, 1998 EXT. MANHATTAN SKYLINE - DAY 1 We circle around the island of Manhattan moving closer and closer till we're looking down on Fifth Avenue. As the melody continues to play we MOVE towards a building and ZOOM into a window. 2 INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE - DAY 2 A fifty-year old female therapist (DR. GREENBAUM) sits at her desk, frowning as she takes notes. Books of Jung and Freud line the shelves. A young man (SEBASTIAN VALMONT) sits in a chair in front of her looking impatient. The therapist continues to write notes. DR. GREENBAUM Jesus. We've been at this for six months. SEBASTIAN I know. DR. GREENBAUM And you haven't made an ounce of progress. SEBASTIAN I know. Sebastian takes out a cigarette. DR. GREENBAUM (not looking up) There's no smoking in my office. Sebastian sneers at her then puts the cigarette away. Dr. Greenbaum finishes her notes and looks up at him, shaking her head. SEBASTIAN What do you want me to say? That I'm supposed to feel remorse because I act the way I do? The truth is I don't. Dr. Greenbaum shakes her head and takes notes. SEBASTIAN (cont'd) Look, I'm not like all the other kids in high school. I don't care about book reports and
Green River Drama Play
Green River By Scott Kessler /26/2002 Final Draft FADE IN: EXT. ASHCROFT HOME-NIGHT We open with a slow pan across the white-picket fence and immaculate lawn of recently built TRACT HOME somewhere in a midwestern suburban neighborhood. A WELCOME MAT neatly rests on the front step of a screened-in FRONT DOOR. We dolly up the COBBLESTONE WALK to the FRONT WINDOW and assume a peeping tom view into a neatly furnished and clean LIVING ROOM. INT. ASHCROFT LIVING ROOM-NIGHT We gaze directly into the LIVING ROOM of NATHAN AND MELANIE ASHCROFT, an upscale young couple in their early thirties. NATHAN relaxes on the COUCH with a cup of steaming cocoa. MELANIE files absently at her nails, laughing quietly at the antics of a zany sitcom on the TV. NATHAN (Absently; Watching television) Honey. Make us some popcorn? MELANIE (Watching TV) We're out of popcorn, babe. NATHAN Shit. MELANIE How about some Sara Lee cake? NATHAN (Considering this) O.K. FROM OUTSIDE, we hear the screeching of rubber, like a car coming to a sudden stop. NATHAN (Alarmed) What was THAT? MELANIE (Frowning) Sounds like Saul's car. CUT TO: EXT. ASHCROFT HOME, CURB-NIGHT A HOT ROD MUSCLE CAR with the rear end jacked up comes to a screeching stop, leaving rubber on the tarmac. FOUR YOUNG PUNKS pile out of the interior and onto the sidewalk. The obvious leader is SAUL, a tough-looking
Bangers 'n' mash.
Original Writing Piece CHAPTER I: FREE AT LAST S trange things go through your mind when you're in prison. Especially when you're well into your sixth year in the place. I still remember the day I first entered my cell back in 1997. I remember thinking; 'Six years'll fly by...this'll be a doddle!' - How Pete Tong can you get? The six years I was in that urine-soaked hellhole seemed like two Ice Ages...and the people you met in there were hardly people to look up to - except when you were splattered across the floor in a bath of your own blood, all because you owe them money on Monopoly. Oh, I know what's going through your head right now - what was I doing in nick anyway? Well, allow me to introduce myself...James Cashton, known to friends and enemies as Jimmy Cash - cash by name, cash by nature. I can't get enough of the old bangers 'n' mash. Not for spending though, for the reputation. See, I'm from Soho, and it doesn't take an Albert Einstein to know that that is London's crime hot-spot...and being the sort of man I am, I wasn't prepared to just blend-in with the crowd - I wanted to make some noise, cause a fuss, stir things up and making a few bob in the process never did any harm either. That's why I orchestrated the great London bank robbery of November '96. Just me and four other geezers - Jon, Jamahl, Rizzo and Pete. Those were the days. You know, those blokes were
Gangster Love
Gangster Love Ever since I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster. From the age of six I recall seeing the Scott brothers walking into the boxing gym with their fine Italian suits and dripping gold. They'd throw inch thick wads of money around and everybody would start to flutter about opening the bottles of high-quality champagne and lighting the big expensive cigars that bellowed buckets of smoke that were strictly forbidden. Except of course for them. Because for the real gangsters not a thing was forbidden. I was destined to be like that and be like that is what I set out to do. By the age of ten I had fully abandoned the tiresome task of attending my all boys school and worked full time at a notorious bar in the city centre. I was earning more money than my father. I would sell Dave's bootleg cigarettes to the eager factory workers at the industrial park. I'd be running around all day long always learning something new, in an average day I'd hear, see, say, and do things that would make my mother keel over with a heart attack instantaneously. That is if she found out. As far as my parents were concerned I went to school every morning and was studying hard to get a good job. Obviously their idea of studying for a future career was very different to mine. The first making of me came when I was arrested for stealing mail. My job was straightforward; a
Poems From Other Cultures and Traditions - From 'Search For My Tongue' Tatamkhulu Afrika, Maqabane.
Poems From Other Cultures and Traditions From 'Search For My Tongue' Tatamkhulu Afrika, Maqabane (1994) When you read this poem, bear in mind that language and the use of the mother tongue (our own language, the one we were brought up speaking) are very important to any individual. We all take it for granted that we can use our language if we live where we were born. We don't even have to think about it. But when you go to live in another country you have to learn another language, and it can be very confusing. The use of another language, one that is not your own, often functions on an emotional level. Also, after a while you start mixing the two languages. This is the problem faced by the speaker in this excerpt. Those of you who were not originally English speaking will recognise the dilemma expressed in this excerpt! Read the poem once or twice. Go through it slowly after that, in your mind relating the use of language (tongue) to the physical tongue. Some of you will, of course, recognise and understand the Gujerati in the centre of the extract. For some of you this will be your mother tongue! But most of you will be unable to decode it. So there will be many different reactions to reading this poem. I wish I were present to hear these reactions! Point of view Here we have a first-person speaker addressing 'you'. There appears to be a conversation going
Nuclear Terror.
Nuclear Terror. Chapter One Greenford, London. June 6th. 9.00Am. Prince looked out of his dark, top floor flat window. There were a lot of grey swirling clouds hanging in the distance, but he was not looking at the clouds, instead Prince was looking at the London underground station and all of the commuters getting the tube to go to their offices in central London, around the corner from his cheap two room flat. There were all kinds of races going into the station: Pakistani, African, and Chinese. He Looked at his computer monitor and saw his brown eyes starring back at him, and his long black hair swaying as the electric fan threw out cool air at its full speed. Prince powered up his Dell 410 computer and waited for windows 98 to load. After connecting to the internet he checked his website: The British Terrorist League. He had received many emails over night from all over Britain about wanting to join his terrorist network. Before Prince, as his codename was, took anyone on board he checked their criminal records and profiles by hacking into Scotland Yard's database. Prince disconnected from the World Wide Web and left his flat to visit his local pub. Prince hated walking down his local streets, they were filled with his enemies: Britain was being taken over by illegal immigrants, Prince had lots of motives for hating them but his main one was that they flee
Poetry English language
Study a selection of War poetry. What are the poets' attitudes to the War? Wars have been around for many years, in fact, they have been around as long as humans have been around. When you come to think of it, Warfare means solving problems by force (fighting, War). The problems that might result to War could be: to gain land (this could be to gain power), to get resources from another country (oil, gold, and diamonds). Religion (this is the War that we are fighting now), to support another country who is lured (maybe reluctantly) into War, this is known as supporting an ally. I think that the scale of Warfare has changed; firstly, the weapons used in War these days have become more sophisticated. Today we use auto reload rifles, bullet-proof vests, bombs with sensors etc. back in World War 1 (WW1) they used rifles, bayonets and had no knowledge of the machine guns that were used by the German army. As a result, more people will be killed. Secondly troops can be moved from long distances much easily; before if you were in the English army (in the middle ages especially) you were shipped off to your location of War and you would march to wherever you were ordered to fight. Nowadays you are transported in helicopters or jet planes, so the soldiers can get to the battle-zone more easily, so the job will be done much quicker as a result. Most governments have now ensured that
The Burst Bubble of Dreams
THE BURST BUBBLE OF DREAMS Don't take one more step. Stop right where you are! No Chris! Stop! Chris don't! Chris...AAAAAAHHHHHH!" *SPLASH* I was over at my best friend Emily's house and her older brother, Chris, had just shoved me into the swimming pool. Honestly, lads are such an immature pain in the ass at times! "You idiot" I sputtered as I surfaced. "I can't believe you did that to me!" "Aw, did the poor baby get her hair all wet? Here, let me help you," he said, offering me his hand. A plan suddenly began formulating in my mind. "Thank you." I told him in my most sweet and innocent voice. I reached up and took his hand, and pulled him into the pool, clothes and all. I tried to pull myself up out of the pool, but I wasn't quick enough. Chris grabbed my legs and dragged me back in. He dunked me under the water, I tried to get free, but he had too tight of a grip on me. "Chris, would you stop flirting with my friends?" Emily said as she walked out onto the patio. "Why?" "Because she's ten years younger than you." "Yeah, so? She's 18, she's legal!" "Please tell me your friends are coming over today to save us from you!" "Yeah, they should be here soon. I better go get dried off and changed," he told her. He let go of me, climbed out of the pool, and went into the house. After Chris went into the house I pulled myself up on to the side of the pool,
It was a stormy day in Kampa level B-14.
1/3/2001 It was a stormy day in Kampa level B-14. The Kougar team were preparing for their first mission with the new recruits. Gavin was the founder of Kougar, he was 27 and had been with Kougar for two years. In his time with the rebel group he had destroyed numerous security robots and killed numerous people. He had nothing against these people; they were simply in the way. The aim of Kougar in the long run was to have a democratic system in Toblia. They lived in Kampa, which was a city in Toblia, which was a country in the continent of Tobliamenton. They were probably not going about their views in the most peaceful way but nothing else had worked. Gavin was trying to prepare the team for one of their most dangerous missions yet, although the team didn't realise what the mission was at present. Kougar were to destroy the Malik robot factory. Malik was a big Andro-Technics company that produced robots for most of the aristocracy in Tobliamenton. Gavin had come to the conclusion that if they caused a stir in the aristocracy that they could put the president under such stress that he would retire. This would be where Kougar moved in, they could put forth the idea of a democratic system! This was to no avail yet, however. Despite Gavin's numerous attempts he was getting the same results, nothing. The rest of the team were Jed, Swift, Gamma and Rox. The team had asked for
Clash of cultures coursework
How does the "Young Couple", the "Train from Rhodesia" and "Dead Man's Path" explore the clash of cultures? Culture is the term used to describe the set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that characterises an institution, organisation or group. In the stories the idea of culture is thoroughly underlined and made clear to the reader. The reader is given two different types of culture that share opposite views and ideas, and when placed together it creates a clash of cultures. Culture clash is the term used to describe the misunderstandings, and disagreements between different cultures. Culture is learned, whereas the clash is the unlearning and relearning of new cultures. It is a common theme expressed throughout many of these stories, and each has their own way of putting forward the author's ideas on the clash of cultures and how difficult it is for two very different cultures to put aside their differences and see things in the same light. "The Young Couple" is a short story by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, who herself has a strong sense of Indian culture, having lived there herself for a period of time, which is heavily reflected in the story as she expresses the culture of a typical Indian family. The book is set in the early 1960s, which was a time when the two different cultures between an English girl and Indian family would have been extremely diverse, as
