Fwiffo Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY
MARSHA, A PRETTY YOUNG WOMAN, RECLINES IN A HOSPITAL BED BY A
SMALL BEDSIDE TABLE. SHE'S ATTACHED TO AN I.V. DRIP AND A
BEEPING HEART MONITOR.
JOHN ENTERS FROM A DOORWAY, CARRYING A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS.
What did the doctor say?
About the heart condition?
How long do you have?
Weeks. Minutes. No one knows.
You're dying, Marsha?
I am dying, John.
JOHN PLACES THE FLOWERS ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE.
I love you, Marsha.
Wait a minute. That's not all.
I want to have sex with you, Marsha.
Well, that's very kind of you, John,
I've been thinking about this for a
long time. I definitely want to have
sex with you.
John, I'm dying.
Of course. How silly of me. Silly
Are you going to die very soon?
I don't know. I hope not. The doctor
Do you think, then, Marsha...
Do you mind if I have sex with you
after you die?
I mean, you'll be dead, after all...
I mind that idea quite a lot. That is
a very, very bad idea, John.
Yes, you're right. Awful, terrible
idea. Please forgive me, dear.
A BEAT, THEN MARSHA LAUGHS NERVOUSLY.
Yes, can you imagine? The doctor
comes by and finds you in bed with my
Actually, I have that all planned out.
JOHN QUICKLY EXITS THE DOORWAY AND IMMEDIATELY RETURNS,
DRAGGING A LARGE STEAMER TRUNK.
I got this trunk. There's a motel
down the street.
After you die I can put your body in
this trunk, get you to the motel, have
sex, get your body back here, all
within forty-five minutes.
You see that I'm dying?
Under no circumstances, living or
dead, will I have sex with you. The
idea is thoroughly disgusting to me.
Yes. Of course. I'm being
thoughtless, darling. Completely
Let us drop the subject.
What if it wasn't me having sex with
Oh dear God.
What if it was a Pomeranian in a clown
I would be completely across the room,
JOHN SNAPS TO ATTENTION. MARSHA IS FURIOUS.
Listen to me, you twisted monkey! You
sick little bestial necrophiliac freak
boy! I'm not going to be stuffed into
a trunk and hauled off to a motel!
And I'm not going to be rogered by
some Pomeranian while you videotape
it, you perverted stinking orangutan!
Under no condition... Condition...
THE HEART MONITOR EMITS A STEADY SHRILL TONE. MARSHA DIES.
JOHN GENTLY KISSES MARSHA'S HAND. HE OPENS THE STEAMER TRUNK
AND LIFTS OUT A POMERANIAN IN A CLOWN COSTUME. HE WAGGLES
THE DOG'S PAW IN A BYE-BYE GESTURE.
Come on, Fwiffo. Let's go home.
JOHN DRAGS THE TRUNK AND THE DOG THROUGH THE DOOR.
FADE TO BLACK.
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.