Category: Fiction

On Fire – Script Conversion 1


I am two people.


Unbroken stretches of Georgia pine. The van’s a billboard for WILMORE FIRST BAPTIST.

RYAN (30s), a lone disheveled man in the middle row, stares out the window in a daze. He mindlessly scratches the CAST on his forearm.

The DRIVER fiddles with the radio. LYNYRD SKYNYRD plays.


I am now. And I am then.


That same Skynyrd TUNE, and Ryan sings along. He’s wearing a pressed shirt and a loose tie. He’s young. He’s excited.

Atlanta’s on the horizon



The van comes to a stop as the GATE GUARD approaches, happy to see DRIVER.


Hey, Pete! How’s that boy of yours?


Tom, I tell ya, I ain’t never

seen him throw this good.


Amen to that, brother.

We’ll need him this year.


I hear ya. I’ll let him know

you’re rootin’ for him.


We’ll put him on the prayer list, too.


We could use all the help we can get.


Everybody could, ain’t that true?


This the guy, I guess?



Ryan isn’t paying attention to the men anymore. He sees


BALDY wearing a grey-blue jumpsuit. Baldy is standing at a side door, leaning and smoking, and staring across 30 yards straight into Ryan’s soul.


Ryan scratches his cast.


The propped open door swings wide. ORDERLY 1, looking like an angry mountain, gestures to Baldy, who flicks his cigarette into the grass and heads inside.


The GATES open.


On Fire – plotting 1

I’m tired of keeping my notes in a notebook.

  1. Ryan talking to the doc
  2. Ryan meeting Traeger, his boss, for the first time
  3. Ryan at the institution, taken to his room after meeting the doc.
  4. Getting a sense for his roommate’s conspiracy theory brain through a secret note stuffed into his bedding – don’t take the triangle pill (illuminati)
  5. Putting on his institution uniform / putting on a suit that fits after his first paycheck
  6. Making his bed / his new apartment
  7. Falling asleep while he waits for someone to tell him where he’s supposed to be
  8. Dream 1 – cuts of late hours and late drinks and a blonde woman smiling, “I love you, dummy” with a laugh, and a flash of her lying dead in the middle of the street

  1. Awake with a start. Snoring roommate in eery halogen lighting from the parking lot. The moon is half full
  2. In the hallway, confusion with so many doors. He doesn’t remember which way, makes a guess
  3. More eery lighting, passing door after door, the buzz of every third overhead leading to an oasis nurse’s station with Shirley reading a Stephen King novel – Firestarter
  4. Their conversation, he takes his pills, and she teases him about not showing up for group last night. He didn’t know. No one said. They do that, she says.
  5. She feeds him his missed dinner. Meatloaf sandwich to go with his drugs. He doesn’t know how he’ll manage to get back to sleep, but the drugs are fast.
  6. On the way back to his room, creepier now that he’s dazed. Misses his door, there are more now. So may doors.
  7. Tina, his wife from he dream, calling to him from the end of the hall
  8. He goes to her. Tries. She’s farther and farther away u til she turns and disappears behind the corner. He picks up pace, calling for her
  9. Runs snack into a giant of a man in an orderly uniform.
  10. Brief exchange, the orderly shows him which door is Ryan’s

from Agency 1

The neck of the first space bug snapped easily. I caught it off guard. Its muscles were tense and I was full of adrenaline. Its head spun a full three-sixty. The second little bastard had time to react, letting its body go slack as my hands wrapped around its small head. I could twist. I could jerk it this way and that. I’m pretty sure it was unconscious after my second attempt, but that satisfying crunch just wouldn’t happen. No stream of green slime they called blood erupting from the back of its little bug throat.

I’m no sadist. I’m no monster. I’d leave it lie if I didn’t have orders. Everything must go. Every single one of these six-legged alien assholes. Their entire bodies were only about as large as a human torso. and it was hard to believe these suckers had made it all the way across the galaxy to wreak havoc on our planet, but here they were, sucking the nitrogen from our atmosphere in their giant suppository-shaped spaceships. In my briefing, I was told that their mech suits were a new improvement. A quick adaptation. They sat their little ant bodies into a bipedal robot, and they were suddenly freeing up legs to work on more nefarious projects. The ultimate multitaskers, these little fuckers. They never stopped evolving.

Maybe they were smart enough to get their asses all the way here after all.

I laughed as I pressed my heel into the face of my enemy. The pop was sudden, my boot hitting the ground and that green goo splashing about in all directions. Their brains were so small compared to ours, and we still haven’t even made it to Mars? That shit’s embarrassing.