This piece originally written for:
NYC Midnight Screenwriting Competition, November 2020
A lost and dejected QAnon follower on the run finds an unexpected kindred spirit on his way out of post-election Chicago.
EXT. ANDERSONVILLE COMMUNITY GARDEN, – DAY
In the northern Chicago neighborhood of Andersonville, a community garden stretches alongside the raised tracks of the
Metro train. Wooden garden boxes dot the landscape. Shuffling toward the garden is MARK, mid 30s, chubby, goatee, wears a red “Q” T-shirt, carrying a “Don’t Tread on Me” flag. Out of breath, he looks all around, paranoia in his eyes.
MARK
Gotta’ run. Believe the plan!
Tending one of the garden boxes is ANGIE, mid 30s, disheveled and dirty. She wears eclectic secondhand formal men’s clothes. There is a shopping cart filled with clothes and bric a brac next to her. Mark sees her and, startled, tries to change direction. He trips on the edge of a garden box, and wipes out in the dirt. As he struggles in the mud, Angie appears above him, an intense, crazed look in her eye.
ANGIE
Hold on! I’ll save you!
She dumps a bucket of water on him. Mark screams.
MARK
What are you doing? Are you insane?
ANGIE
In answer to you first question, I am helping you. The second question…I guess maybe?
You’re not the first person to ask, so it might bear considering.
Mark is confused, soaked and covered in mud.
MARK
How is dumping water on me helping?
Angie laughs as if to say, “It’s obvious.”
ANGIE
You’re dirty. Water is cleansing.
Mark stares, even more confused. The sound of a train in the distance is getting closer. Mark hears it, startled.
MARK
Oh no. NO, dammit! The train! How far to the station??
Angie turns to her right and shouts, to no one.
ANGIE
Would you shut up already! I’m trying to talk to the man! (Back to Mark.) Couple of blocks.
Mark, confused, gets to his feet. The train rushes by.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
Oh, you wanted THAT train. Yeah, that isn’t going to happen.
MARK
I’m in danger! They’re after me!
ANGIE
Me too! Who’s after you?
MARK
(whispers)
Antifa.
ANGIE
(Unimpressed)
No offense friend, but I think you’ll be OK waiting for the next train. I’ve got the Belgians and
some rogue Anunnaki bounty hunters that have had my number for years.
Been hiding under the bridge with minimal hassle. Plus free grub.
She gestures to the gardens.
MARK
Isn’t this a community garden?
ANGIE
I’m in the community. Next train is in an hour. Let’s get you cleaned
up. The elitist bourgeois rail people aren’t letting you on looking like that.
CUT TO:
EXT. BRIDGE NEAR ANDERSONVILLE COMMUNITY GARDEN – LATER
A makeshift clothesline has been set up by tying some twine between two trees. Mark’s clothes are draped over the line, drying, with a battery powered space heater underneath. Mark is wrapped in a ratty, oversized overcoat and sits on a rock. He is cold, grouchy and uncomfortable.
Angie sits nearby, eating some green beans she nabbed from the garden and grinning off into the distance.
MARK
If you hadn’t doused me with a bucket of water, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you, freezing.
ANGIE
You are such an unappreciative snot. Don’t you get it? The soil of
the soil is like the mark of the beast! It follows you everywhere.
You needed to be cleansed.
MARK
You are out of your mind. And how
long until my clothes are dry?
ANGIE
Soon. Here…to pass the time.
Angie hands him a wrinkled newspaper. The Chicago Tribune. The headline: “Biden Wins.” Disgusted, Mark throws it down.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
What’s this Annie Teefa person after you for, anyway?
MARK
That’s Antifa. It’s a liberal mob that can’t tolerate anyone who
thinks for themselves. No room for discourse. And Q says they also
steal babies and drink their blood.
ANGIE
Wow. That is pretty rough. I mean blood is good for you and stuff,
but from babies? I dunno.
Mark looks dejected and slumps down.
MARK
Q said it was all coming down but nothing worked out. And now he’s
gone silent. Somebody posted about a march today, but the radical left
must have broken it up. Nobody showed. So I went on the run. The
city isn’t safe anymore.
ANGIE
I know what it is like to be on the run. That’s why I’m here. If the
government finds me, I’m history.
MARK
The deep state is after you, too?
Angie thinks about it.
ANGIE
Some of them are underwater, so
yeah, sure, I guess.
MARK
I just feel so lost. I spent the last year listening to Q, and now I
don’t know what to do. My friends and family won’t talk to me.
ANGIE
Why?
MARK
Probably because I called them all pedophiles and communists.
ANGIE
People are so sensitive.
Mark nods earnestly, then looks long at Angie. He smiles.
MARK
I do appreciate your help. Friendly faces are hard to come by.
ANGIE
Don’t I know it. Especially after the alien face suckers came around.
MARK
Where do you get this stuff from? Who tells you what to be afraid of?
ANGIE
Nobody. Just comes to me. I guess I’m hooked into the universe.
Speaking of which, you’re not going to Winnetka, are you?
MARK
I don’t know. I thought about it.
Angie shakes her head, vigorously.
ANGIE
Not Winnetka. They got a mess of Illuminati army drones there.
MARK
I think I read about that. Have you thought about posting on 8-Chan?
Angie recoils, disgusted.
ANGIE
Oh god no. The numeral eight is the infinity symbol sideways and I
don’t trust anything with that kind of permanence. I’m a girl who likes
to keep her options open.
She gets up and checks the drying clothes.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
Hey, the clothes are dry! She brings the shirt over to Mark.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
Here you go. I’d lose the flag, though. It’s a little conspicuous.
Mark stands and takes the shirt. They linger together, both
holding it and staring into each other’s eyes.
MARK
Why don’t you come with me?
ANGIE
Why don’t you stay here?
They stare a moment longer. Angie turns again to her right, screaming at no one.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
Dammit Carl, I told you to SHUT UP!
Their eyes lock again. Angie moves in for an aggressive kiss. They make out as the train goes by. Angie breaks the kiss.
ANGIE (CONT’D)
Guess you need a new escape plan.
MARK
Maybe plans aren’t what they’re cracked up to be.
FADE TO BLACK.
