UNIVERSITY OF LAGOS

FACULTY OF COMMUNICATION AND MEDIA STUDIES

DEPARTMENT OF MASS COMMUNICATION

COURSE TITLE: BASICS OF SCREENWRITING AND FILM ANIMATION (MCM 211)

LECTURER IN CHARGE: DR. SURAJ OLUNIFESI

NAMES OF GROUP 12 MEMBERS

1.Elijah Anuoluwapo Olusegun

2.Adegoke Nofisat adeola

3.Uwem Imaobong Lovelyn

4.Lucky chiamaka happiness

5.Aremu Elizabeth Ayomide-

6.Zakariyah omodolapo Zakariyah

7.Nwanze Grace

8.Ogunsanya Oluwafunmilola 

                                    — SCRIPT —

FADE IN:

EXT. BACKYARD — DAY

A bright, sunny afternoon. A small tidy backyard with a wooden fence, a big oak tree, and a red picnic table.

TOMMY (8, round face, messy hair, wearing a striped shirt) sits at the table carefully unwrapping a sandwich. He looks at it the way most people look at winning lottery tickets.

TOMMY

Peanut butter and jelly. Extra jelly.

(to himself)

Today is a good day.

He takes a long, happy breath and prepares to bite in.

BISCUIT — a fluffy golden retriever with enormous ears and zero impulse control — pads out from behind the oak tree. He spots the sandwich. His nose twitches. His tail begins a slow, dangerous wag.

Tommy notices Biscuit's eyes locked on his lunch.

TOMMY

(firm)

No. This one is mine, Biscuit.

Biscuit sits. Tilts his head. The picture of innocence.

Tommy turns to pour juice from a thermos.

One second. That is all it takes.

Biscuit LUNGES. Snatches the sandwich clean out of the wrapper. And BOLTS across the yard.

TOMMY

BISCUIT! COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!

Tommy scrambles to his feet, knocking over his juice, and tears off after the dog.

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET — CONTINUOUS

Biscuit weaves down the sidewalk at full speed, sandwich clamped proudly in his jaws. Tommy is right behind him, arms pumping.

Biscuit cuts left around a garden gnome. Tommy does too — and clips it with his foot.

BEAT.

Tommy looks back at the gnome. Looks at Biscuit disappearing around the corner.

TOMMY

BISCUIT!

He runs on.

EXT. MRS. PETERSON'S GARDEN — MOMENTS LATER

Biscuit blazes a trail directly through MRS. PETERSON'S (70s, enormous sun hat, reading glasses) prize rose garden. Pink petals explode into the air like confetti.

Mrs. Peterson spins around from her kneeling position by the flower bed.

MRS. PETERSON

My roses!

Tommy arrives five seconds later, running full speed through the same path of destruction.

TOMMY

(not slowing down)

Sorry Mrs. Peterson! Sorry! He has my sandwich! I'm sorry!

He vanishes around the hedge. Mrs. Peterson blinks at a single falling rose petal.

EXT. PARK ENTRANCE — MOMENTS LATER

Tommy bursts through the park gate, breathing hard. He stops. Looks around.

Biscuit is gone.

The park is quiet. Trees. A pond. A bench. Pigeons.

Tommy walks slowly now, scanning every bush and tree.

TOMMY

(exhausted)

Biscuit... where are you...

Then — a familiar fluffy tail disappears behind a large oak tree near the water's edge.

Tommy creeps toward it.

EXT. PARK — OAK TREE — CONTINUOUS

Tommy peeks carefully around the trunk.

He stops.

Biscuit is sitting very still in front of a STRAY DOG — small, thin, with patchy fur and wide, uncertain eyes. The kind of dog that has not had a good week. Or month.

Biscuit gently sets the sandwich down on the ground between them.

The stray dog stares at it. Then at Biscuit. Then at it again.

Biscuit nudges it forward with his nose.

BEAT.

The stray takes one small, careful bite. Then another.

Biscuit's tail starts wagging. Slowly at first. Then like a propeller.

Tommy watches all of this from behind the tree. His mouth is open. His anger has completely evaporated.

BEAT.

He steps out from behind the tree. Biscuit looks up at him, tail still going.

TOMMY

(quietly)

...You were sharing.

Biscuit tilts his head as if to say: obviously.

Tommy crouches down slowly. He holds out his hand to the stray. The stray sniffs it. Then licks it once, very gently.

Tommy lets out a long breath.

TOMMY

Okay. Fine. But you could have just asked me, you know.

He looks at Biscuit.

TOMMY

I would have said yes.

Biscuit licks Tommy's entire face in one swipe. Tommy sputters and laughs.

EXT. BACKYARD — LATER THAT AFTERNOON

The picnic table. Three figures sitting in a row in the warm golden light.

Tommy. Biscuit. And the stray dog — clean, calm, leaning slightly against Tommy's leg.

Three sandwiches on the table. One in front of each of them.

They eat in comfortable silence.

Biscuit glances sideways at Tommy with tremendous satisfaction.

TOMMY

(staring straight ahead)

I am not telling Mum we have a second dog.

BEAT.

TOMMY

We are definitely telling Mum we have a second dog.

The stray dog rests his chin on Tommy's knee.

Tommy smiles. Gives him a scratch behind the ear.

The afternoon sun stretches long and warm across the yard.

FADE OUT.

THE END

9.Imoh-okpomoh Obrian Uzoyah.