BASIC SCREENWRITING & ANIMATION (Group 20) 

A Short Film
 
Genre:  Comedy / Family

Characters: 
Tommy
Biscuit
Stray Dog
Mrs. Peterson

Synopsis
When eight-year-old Tommy's dog steals his sandwich and runs away,
a chaotic chase through the neighborhood reveals that Biscuit
had the kindest reason all along.

FADE IN:

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

TOMMY: sits at the table carefully unwrapping a sandwich. He looks at it as if it was an egg that would shatter if it falls “peanut butter and jelly. Extra jelly. Today is a good day.”
He takes a long, happy breath and prepares to bite in.

BISCUIT: a fluffy golden dog strides out from behind the oak tree. He spots the sandwich, looks at it with a yearning look.

Tommy notices Biscuit's eyes locked on his lunch.

TOMMY: (firmly) “No. This one is mine, Biscuit.”
 
Biscuit sits. Looks away as if he’s no longer interested in the sandwich.

Tommy turns to pour juice from a thermos he brought with him.

A second. That is all it takes.

Biscuit jumps forward. Snatches the sandwich clean out of the wrapper and darts across the yard.

TOMMY: BISCUIT! COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!

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

NEIGHBORHOOD STREET

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

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

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

TOMMY: BISCUIT! COME BACK HERE!

He runs on.

A GARDEN — MOMENTS LATER

Biscuit blazes a trail directly through MRS. PETERSON (a woman in her 70s with her reading glasses and an enormous sun hat on her head)

Suddenly, 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 and gasping for air through the same path.
 
TOMMY (not slowing down): “Sorry Mrs. Peterson! Sorry! He has my sandwich! I'm sorry!”
 
He disappears around the hedge. Mrs. Peterson blinks at a falling rose petal.

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

Biscuit is nowhere to be found.

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. Tommy moves toward it.

EXT. PARK — OAK TREE 
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 merely been living for survival.

 Biscuit gently puts 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.

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

Biscuit's tail starts wagging happily. Slowly at first. Then like a propeller.
 
Tommy watches all of this from behind the tree. Mouth is open, anger completely evaporated.

He steps out from behind the tree. Biscuit looks up at him.
 
TOMMY (quietly):...”You were sharing?” He asks.

Biscuit shakes his head as if to say: obviously.

Tommy bends 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 moves close to Biscuit.

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 – calmly leaning against Tommy's leg.

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

Biscuit glances sideways at Tommy with satisfaction.
 
TOMMY (staring straight ahead): I am not telling Mum we have a second dog. No! I’m definitely telling her we have a second dog.”
 
The afternoon sun stretches long and warm across the yard.

FADE OUT.