EXT. PARK.

DAY
A man, ADAM, is asleep on a bench with a carton of eggnog. He
rolls over onto the ground. This wakes him up.

He springs up and rushes to the first person he finds. He's

lurid and pleading.
ADAM:
Mate, Hi. Sorry, my car broke down.
I need cash for a taxi.
The man cautions him. Hands forward, making a pushing
gesture. He warns him. Adam doesn't yield. Yapping and
yapping. He gets slapped in the face.

He adjusts his jaw. He's determined. No time for an

ambulance.
The hands of a watch are ticking away. Adam is staring at it
with standoff eyes. He looks up with his stare slowly going a
thousand yards.
He's got a tie with a hoop at the top, various stages of
tucking in and a leg that won't rest, up and down like a
pump. He dawns an empty backpack (preferably messenger)
filled with nothing.
He takes another deep breath. He cracks his knuckles.
He slaps his forehead and tilts his head like a pendulum in
trepidation.
Another deep breath; phone out. Walk and talk.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
Shirley, Shirley! Pick up. Pick up!
It goes to voicemail.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
Thanks, Shirley; I am calling to
forebode. Little tattered, punch-
up; I'm good...good enough. By New
Year, I'll be better - as you wish.
Work, the final scraps, left me a
little scatterbrained and, in turn,
late. I'll be present soon,
however. I have everything on my
side finalised - all in hand. It's
just work, you know. And you
know...all that amateur prose left
me verbose. Adam out.
 2.

Adam breathes a sigh of relief and quickens his pace. Tries

to fix himself up, straightening his shirt, adjusting his
tie. He reaches into his pocket. He rummages around with a
growing look of fear. He halts.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
Present. Present. Present soon. No
present. Soon to be dead.
Phone's back out. Adam is disgruntled. He mulls it over; on
one hand - on the other. Eventually he rubs his eyes as
exasperated as he can be.

Phone's gone. He walks back towards a man.

ADAM: (CONT'D)
Hi. Here. It's Christmas - can you
pay for a taxi. Honestly, I won't
pay you back. It's for a present.
MAN:
Here's a fiver. Go into town. And
fuc-
ADAM:
Ok, thanks. Thanks I won-...

EXT. TOWN. DAY

He's got a drink. He's wasted the fiver.
His eyes widen as he realises that he can't buy a present.
He looks in a window store and is gleaming. A guy walks up
admiring it himself.
VAGRANT:
Looks good doesn't it.
ADAM:
Eh, yeah. I'm getting it.
VAGRANT
You stink of booze. All you're
getting is a kidney stone.
ADAM:
I'm getting it. Any means
necessary.
They're at each others throats. Although their eyes are
distracted by a man walking out with a present.
 3.

VAGRANT ADAM (CONT'D)
I'm getting that! I'm getting that!
They start stalking him. Sending each other daggers.
VAGRANT (CONT'D)
Piss off!
ADAM
Piss off!
VAGRANT (LOUDER):
Piss off!
ADAM (EVEN LOUDER):
Why don't you?
THE MAN (EVEN LOUDER):
Both of you, shut up. Seriously,
get lost.
They stand off. Triangle formation. The man takes a step back
and bolts. Adam and his rival get ready to follow suit. Adam
is stopped by his nemesis and slapped in the face.
Adam lies by himself. Despondent. It's over.

EXT. PARK. DAY

He's walking slowly. Slightly anxious. He gulps and picks his
phone up.

ADAM:
Alison. Always voicemail.
With his hand on his hip, he taps his foot in frustration.
It goes to voicemail.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
How accustomed to loss is Sally?
Please respond soon. Because loss
is abound. Adam out.
Adam steps forward again and yelps; stich. He's jolting,
pushing his body from side to side. He ultimately falls onto
his ass. He then glances over to a sight. Such a sight. It
slows him down. He rests here.
It's a lake he sees. Adorned by a graveyard in the back. Life
and death. He starts to laugh. Laughing and crying.
 4.

He pulls out the phone again. But with no hindrance or

hesitation. A ringtone echoes out, accompanied not by snark
but solemnity. When the robot intones, a half-smile arises.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
You once said:
"I can only imagine strangers and
friends are more acquainted with
you failings." It's funny to think
about. Always funny.
I remembered that today. I want to
remember more. Time is a
treacherous thing. Bullfighting -
kind of. Adam out.
Adam is back up. Stretching and then on the move. Moderate
pace.
He is more relaxed. He fixes himself up - rather
successfully. He is greeting passerbys.
He gets his phone out again. No hesitation. Echoes and half-
smiles return.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
It can't be Christmas everyday. I
understand why you always said that
now. Everything's fleeting, faint
and forgotten. All my Christmases
are just a blob. My quietism is
now. Adam out.
Adam is entirely cheerful, smiling from side to side. So
elated that he accosts the first person he sees - just any
old stranger.
ADAM: (CONT'D)
Merry Christmas!
STRANGER:
Eh, yeah. I mean, it is Boxing Day,
son.
Adam's expression falls down. Such that it's droopy. He drags
himself along, murmuring.
ADAM:
Boxing day. No missed calls. Warm
eggnog. Warm...eggnog. Drinks
before the twelve. Oh, god, I still
have time.
The mad dash continues.