GOD HELP US

Written by
Adam Isaacs
gatorisaacs@gmail.com
(561)703-4970
FADE IN:
INT. A SPANISH STYLE ONE STORY LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
SALSA MUSIC fades in as FERNANDO GARCIA, 53, A tan, chiseled,
sashays over to the blender filled with frozen Margarita. He
takes a salsa step back and spins away with the blender, held
tightly to him.
He dances his way over to the table as he pours out the
Margaritas, wiggling his bottom to the beat. He steps back,
surveys his work, and moves over to the record player.
He turns the SALSA MUSIC way up. He starts to get loose.
Behind him, far off in the night sky, what looks like a
flaming football blinks into existence.
Faster and faster this orb begins to grow. Soon, we clearly
see its flames, and MY GOD ITS HURTLING AT THE HOUSE.
Huge now in the sliding glass doors, an enormous 747 jet
takes up the entire field of view. It is merely inches off
the ground, poised to crash.
Back to the sliding glass doors, Fernando spins around,
oblivious, singing and dancing to the music.
The airplane is so close now we can see its not an airplane
but a SPACE SHUTTLE.
WHOOMPH! It crashes into the ground outside, sliding through
dirt growing every larger and larger, shaking the floor,
rattling the dishes. Its gonna destroy the house.
As dirt flies everywhere, the SALSA MUSIC comes to a
crescendo. Fernando gets on his knees, impassioned. On his
knees, Fernando sings his heart out, arms wide. The needle
falls off the record leaving Fernando alone.
FERNANDO
LA SOOOOOOOLLLLLL A MIIIIOOOO!
The shuttle miraculously stops right at the window. TINK. The
tip of the shuttle clinks the glass not even hard enough to
shatter it.
Fernando is breathing heavily from his performance, holding
the position for a moment.
He stands and walks over to the record player. Studies it.
He puts the needle back on and SALSA starts up again.
He turns and walks past the space shuttle, back into the
kitchen.
In front of the window, the shuttle is burning up.
Slowly, a FLAMING FIGURE is emerges from the wreck, walking
stiffly, slowly towards the house.
It slides open the unlocked glass door.
INT. FERNANDOS KITCHEN
Fernando, in his own world, takes a bite of his paella and
kisses his fingers. Perfect. He wipes some sweat from his
brow. Its getting a little hot in here.
GLASS CRASHES off-screen. Fernando perks up.
FERNANDO
Esteban?
He steps out into -
INT. LIVING ROOM
Fernando exits the kitchen and stops. There are footprints,
human footprints seared into his parquet wood floors. They
seem to lead into his bathroom.
The room looks like a tornado hit it. Debris is everywhere.
Fernando turns around and sees the space shuttle sitting
inches outside of his home. He cocks his head, in stunned
disbelief.
The room is really heating up now, Esteban is dripping sweat.
He turns to see the thermostat reads: ERROR.
He reaches out and touches the window.
FERNANDO
Aaaahhhh!
Fernando shakes his finger vigorously. Its a terrible burn.
He backs up scared, tripping the a vase smashed on the floor.
He picks himself up and runs out the front door. He stops
dead.
2.
EXT. COZY NEIGHBORHOOD IN THE HOLLYWOOD HILLS
Below him, as far as the eye can see, flaming satellites
light up the sky as they hurtle to Earth. All around him Los
Angeles is in flames.
ESTEBAN, 28, a dashing, Hispanic gigolo stands in front of
the doorway looking out at the horror. He glances at Fernando
over his shoulder and turns back. They stare out at the
carnage.
ESTEBAN
Whats going on?
FERNANDO
Its the end of the world.
Esteban looks deeply into Fernandos eyes. At least they have
each other. Fernando reaches out and takes Estebans hand.
Behind them, A SCRATCHY VOICE pipes in.
SCRATCH VOICE
Dont to mean to interrupt.
They turn around slowly.
SAMPSON, 25, a disarmingly handsome astronaut, missing the
top half of his space suit smiles a bright, friendly smile.
Oh, and his suits on fire.
SAMPSON
Could I trouble you for a glass of
water?
(looks down at himself)
Maybe two?
Esteban and Fernando share a look.
They both point to the kitchen. Sampson teeters towards it.
SAMPSON (CONTD)
Earth hospitality. Thats what I
missed most.
Esteban and Fernando tiptoe away from the house. Sampson
picks up a glass of water. Looks at the fire. Drinks it.
The fire melts off the rest of his suit, but his body is
completely undamaged.
SAMPSON (CONTD)
Ooh. Margaritas!
3.