SHORT FILM: Crime:Together, We'll Crack It [2004]

CRIME: TOGETHER, WE’LL CRACK IT

ABRUPT CUT IN:

EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF CITY – LATE NIGHT

A youngish, casually-dressed MAN in his mid-20s struts confidently through the streets, the sound of the city vaguely audible in the distance. His footsteps resonate on the pavement as he walks. He scratches his two-day stubble nonchalantly.

He looks around, surveying the scene as he continues forward. About twenty yards ahead, he observes a shadowy figure in a HOODIE leaning against a wall in a deserted common. His head is bowed and he is smoking a cigarette. Nonplussed, the MAN puts his hands in his pockets and swaggers onwards.

As the MAN nears the wall, we observe the head of the hooded figure raise slowly upwards. Although we cannot see his face, a plume of smoke signifies a sinister presence beneath the hood. In the obscure light, we see a final drag being taken on the cigarette before it is thrown to the ground, where it lies in the grass like a dying firefly. An errant spark crackles onto some nearby brambles as the figure slowly moves away from the wall and steps in line behind the MAN.

C.U. - MAN’S FACE:

He registers the sound of footsteps chiming with his own and ponders the sound quizzically.

C.U. – MAN’S SHOES

Unperturbed, he continues at a steady pace.

C.U. – HOODIE’S TRAINERS

The figure’s pace begins to quicken.

C.U. – CIGARETTE BUTT

Encouraged by a gentle breeze, a few lone sparks continue to drift onto the dry foliage.

C.U. – MAN’S SHOES

Despite the sound of approaching feet on the pavement, his pace shows no signs of quickening. His footsteps continue to clop on the concrete.

C.U. – HOODIE’S TRAINERS

The owner’s feet accelerate once more.

C.U. – CIGARETTE BUTT

The discarded end slowly burns its way through some dry leaves.

Then, in quick succession:

C.U. – HOODIE’S TRAINERS accelerating;

C.U. – POCKET KNIFE blade extending;

C.U. – MAN’S EXPRESSION as he registers the sound;

C.U. – HOODIE’S ARMS reaching out towards the MAN.

The footsteps cease as the HOODIE grabs the MAN in a stranglehold and puts the knife to his throat. Bizarrely, the MAN doesn’t seem too fussed.

HOODIE
Gimme your fuckin’ money.

MAN
Mate...

HOODIE
(pressing blade in harder)
Gimme your fuckin’ money.

MAN
(bemused)
I don’t have any money.

HOODIE
(uncomprehending)
Don’t get fuckin’ smart, man...

MAN
Look, mate, I’m telling you, I haven’t got anything on me!

HOODIE
(baffled)
But... you just came from the high street, right?

MAN
Yeah, but I never take a wallet with me.

HOODIE
(beat, still holding knife)
Why not?

MAN
(like: “Well, duh...”)
Because of people like you.

HOODIE
(pushing knife back in)
Alright, gimme the fuckin’ money.

MAN
Dude, seriously, check my back pocket!

In tight close-up on the two characters’ faces, the HOODIE pauses for a moment before reaching down to frisk him. Although he cannot see his attacker’s face, the MAN studies the silence and awaits his response. After a beat, HOODIE releases the MAN, who begins to smooth his shirt down and dust himself off. The two men turn to face each other.

HOODIE
(beat)
So... what’ve you got, then?

MAN
(producing contents of back pocket)
Well, I’ve got, like... tube ticket... couple of receipts... old Chewits wrapper...

The HOODIE looks flummoxed.

MAN

I just spent my last few quid at the off-licence.

He observes the HOODIE’s look of dejection.

MAN
Sorry, dude.

He then reaches into his two side pockets and produces a pair of beer cans. He looks at them for a moment before motioning towards his would-be assailant.

MAN
Want a beer?

HOODIE
(long pause; shrugs)
Yeah, I s’pose.

The MAN hands him one of the cans. The HOODIE takes it from him and they both pop the ring-pulls before turning to walk off together away from the camera.

MAN
(beat)
Cheers...

As they clink cans, the pile of dead leaves and bramble finally ignites behind them in the distance.

Cut to black.

C.C. 13/4/04