It began as a Doodle to pass the time in my solace, but very quickly became one of the comedic TV Pilot’s I’ve worked on. Switching from Novel to Graphic Novel to TV/Film Scripts became a regret that I didn’t take up the mantle before now. With “TiME RAiDERS: COBALT DREAMS”, “FANTASTICAL: FAIRYDOWN”, “FANTASTICAL: DARKLANDS” and “MIDNIGHT SUN: NEW DAWN” (censors allowing) Scripts ear-marked for 2026/2027 releases. MARRIAGE: THE EXTENDED EDITION, being only the Pilot, may pick up pace at the Cannes Film Festival this summer (2026), as well as “EVERMORE”, “THE REDSTONE BOYS” and, of course, not forgetting the two FANTASTICAL Film Episodes.
For the Sample Scene, I was going to go with The Restaurant Chaos, but then, there is The Unicorn Fantastical Scene, which is… something of a higher level. Samples of both were sent out for Feedback and returned with Thumbs-Up, although The Unicorn Scene did get the most votes. To settle the dilemma, I am permitted to post both Scenes. Ladies and Gentlemen, hold in ya noodles and secure your hot drinks. With very dark humor and foul language that would embarrass your kids, here is The Restaurant Scene.
FADE IN:
INT. LA VIRELLI – NIGHT
The restaurant glows with amber candlelight, as the soft piano echoes around the packed tables filled with medio laughter and glasses clinking. At a corner table, beneath a mural of lovers embracing under a painted Tuscan sky: JACK and ELIZABETH. Twenty-three years of history between them. A half-drunk bottle of HOUSE RED WINE. And silence. A WAITER sets down their food with reverence.
WAITER
Enjoy your evening. It’s a special place to celebrate enduring love
Jack and Elizabeth look at each other.
Beat.
JACK
You ever get the feeling the universe is taking the piss?
Elizabeth forces a smile at the waiter.
ELIZABETH
Thank you.
The waiter leaves, to bring silence again. They both reach for the wine at the same time. Muscle memory initiates. Their hands touch. They both recoil like it burns.
JACK
Well. That’s… symbolic.
ELIZABETH
Don’t. Don’t start narrating the metaphor. You’re not writing one of your tragic little sex pamphlets now, Jack.
JACK
They’re novels.
ELIZABETH
Jack, if it has a pirate with an erection on the cover, it’s not a novel.
Beat.
JACK
It was a metaphorical erection.
ELIZABETH
It had veins, Jack… fucking veins!
A couple at the next table glance over. Jack leans in.
JACK
We said we were going to be civil about this.
ELIZABETH
I am civil. This is me being deeply civil. You should see me unfiltered.
JACK
Oh, I have. You once told my mother she had “predatory cardigan energy.”
ELIZABETH
She does.
Silence. Forks scrape plates. Jack watches her.
JACK
You look good.
ELIZABETH
Don’t.
JACK
I’m just saying Liz-
ELIZABETH
You don’t get to say that anymore.
Beat.
JACK
Right. Fine. OK.
A WAITER refills their glasses.
WAITER
To long marriages.
Elizabeth stares at him.
ELIZABETH
We’re divorcing.
WAITER
Ah. My condolences, Sir, madam.
He retreats quickly. Jack laughs under his breath.
JACK
Well. At least we’re providing
ambiance.
ELIZABETH
You mean how you provided ambiance to that twenty-seven- year-old Instructor? Or are you speaking metaphorically?
There it is. The air shifts.
JACK
Her name’s-
ELIZABETH
I don’t care what her name is, Jack, to me is the demon spawn of hell, but that’s just me.
JACK
You cared last week.
ELIZABETH
That’s because last week I thought it might be a phase. Or a tumour. Or early male dementia.
JACK
It wasn’t dementia.
ELIZABETH
No. It was ego. Much fucking worse for something you’re not permitted to enter in adulthood.
Beat.
The piano music swells softly behind them.
JACK
It wasn’t just ego.
ELIZABETH
Oh, this should be good. Enlighten me. Was it spiritual? Did her arse speak to your soul?
A nearby diner chokes on wine.
JACK
Keep your voice down.
ELIZABETH
Why? Are you embarrassed?
JACK
Yes!
ELIZABETH
Good.
Silence.
Jack takes a breath.
JACK
I felt invisible.
Elizabeth freezes. That landed.
ELIZABETH
Invisible.
JACK
Yeah.
ELIZABETH
You published fourteen books with your name in gold embossed font.
JACK
Self-published.
ELIZABETH
You did a book signing in Waterstones.
JACK
It was a table near the toilets.
ELIZABETH
Because no one buys erotic historical fiction about haunted dukes, Jack.
JACK
He wasn’t haunted. He was emotionally layered.
Elizabeth laughs — but it breaks halfway through.
ELIZABETH
We had a life.
JACK
We had a routine.
ELIZABETH
That’s what a life becomes!
Beat.
ELIZABETH
(QUIETER)
You didn’t say you were unhappy.
JACK
Neither did you.
She stares at him. That one hits deeper.
ELIZABETH
We were raising our children.
JACK
They’re grown now.
ELIZABETH
That doesn’t switch it all off!
Beat.
Jack softens.
JACK
I never meant to hurt you.
ELIZABETH
You didn’t “mean” to? You tripped and fell into her?
JACK
It wasn’t like that.
ELIZABETH
Don’t you dare romanticize your midlife shag.
A GLASS shatters somewhere in the restaurant. Everyone jumps slightly, as the tension starts to rise.
JACK
You stopped looking at me.
ELIZABETH
I looked at you every day!
JACK
Not like before.
ELIZABETH
Before what?
JACK
Before we became… practical.
The word hangs. Elizabeth’s eyes glisten — she masks it with fury.
ELIZABETH
So you betrayed twenty-three years because I didn’t giggle at your penis jokes anymore?
JACK
They’re not jokes.
ELIZABETH
Exactly.
Beat.
Silence.
Then — A PHONE BUZZES on the table – Jack’s phone. Elizabeth sees the name light up. Her face changes.
ELIZABETH
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
JACK
I didn’t-
ELIZABETH
Answer it.
JACK
This isn’t the place-
ELIZABETH
Answer. It.
The entire restaurant seems to quieten in tension. Jack slowly picks up the phone, but we do NOT see the name. He hesitates. Elizabeth stands.
ELIZABETH
Go on. Let’s complete the humiliation tour.
He answers.
JACK
Hello?
His face drains of colour.
JACK
What?
Beat.
JACK
(mutes the phone with a
firm hand)
No, she’s- she’s here.
Elizabeth freezes.
JACK
(takes hand away)
You’re where?
Elizabeth’s eyes slowly shift toward the restaurant entrance where The MAITRE D suddenly straightens, as the front doors open. Cold night air spills in with an effect to those tables closest, but we do not yet see who has entered. Jack whispers into the phone:
JACK
You can’t come in here.
Elizabeth’s voice, deadly calm:
ELIZABETH
Jack… who the fuck is at the door?
CUT TO BLACK.
The Unicorn Scene can be seen on another page in full.
1999-2027 © Marcus De Storm
