der herr dessen name wie ein pornostar klingt hat sich mit mir verbündet. er blickt auf gelbe herbstbäume aus einem artist loft während ich immer nur unspektakulär auf strassen oder hauswände aus meinem hotelzimmern schaue.

nun zu meinem 150seiten-script:

Seite 1:
"INT. The Madrid Community School of Hotel Management. Day.

A small featureless space, enclosed by two or three screens forming a right angle. There is an equally nondescript table, three chairs, and a curtain on the wall.

This space is a corner of a Conference Room, separeted off by the screens. Altogether it`s painfully ugly. A religious painting, quite by chance, occupies a large area of one wall.

Two men dressed as doctors (in white coats) are sitting there. In the following conversation, the two doctors talk unconvincingly, their exaggerated concern highlights their play-acting (doctors aren`t usually that sensitive). The audience will assume they are bad actors. The third chair is occupied by a woman who is fortyish, and as plan-looking as the chairs and table. Throughout the scene the woman, Manuela, reacts much more emphatically than the other two characters.

Doctor A
We did everything we could, but your son Juan died....

Manuela
It can`t be true! I saw him a moment ago and he was breathing...Haven`t you made a mistake? You people do get things wrong...

Doctor A
Not this time.

Manuela
My Juan! I want to see him....

Doctor B
And you will...But first we must warn you not to go by appearances....When you see him, you`ll get the impression he`s breathing...But it`s not true. It`s the machines pumping oxygen into him."

Das war Seite 1. Und weitere 150 werden folgen. Da werde ich mich jetzt wohl ransetzen müssen.