NARRATIVE EXPLORATION
Here’s a fun narrative scene we wrote to get into the head of Benny from the Monster Sponsor project. While we love a good screenplay, sometimes writing the tale in a different format helps get into character, build worlds, and develop backstory.
If you like it, let us know in the comments!
We’re hoping to share more of these little writing exercises as we move through our various projects
(Note: Written by Amber. Voice reading by 11Labs. Images from our upcoming screen test scene. We frames through Nano Banana prompted for “Storyboard Sketches”)
EVENING - NASHVEGAS
As the sun disappeared under the blanket of night, the smell of hot asphalt sizzled into the air. The last drops of a summer rain trickled down on a light post. The glow greeted a gangly young man in a white leather jacket. There was a particular hesitation in his step as he stopped in the center of the pool of light.
Ahead of him was a crowd of people who had formed between closed shops and red velvet ropes. The large doorway of one of the most prestigious nightclubs in town had just opened its doors. A large man, with wrestler mania thickness in his shoulders and head, stepped out to applause. The Knight Owl was open for business, and patrons had been waiting hours to get in.
Benny Anderson, early twenties, bit down on his lip and took in a breath. He checked his cellphone for the hundredth time that hour to make sure this was the right address. His hand shook under the pressure of what the correct location meant.
If he didn’t get this drop right, he was going to end up beaten to shit or worse – dead.
The last two assignments he’d been on didn’t quite go so well, okay? And frankly, delivering to The Knight Owl was one of the biggest clients in Big-T’s books. Who’s Big-T, you ask? Just one of the meanest up-and-coming kingpins in Nashvegas. A big-nosed badass motherfucker who’d served 2 stints in prison for a variety of legendary reasons.
The young man couldn’t be certain if Big-T’s tale involved multiple murder cases or cartel informant backstabbing. But one thing was for certain - he could not fuck up.
As he stepped into the moving line, the first fifty patrons were let in without stopping. With each step forward, Benny’s heart picked up speed. He kept checking his pockets to make sure the delivery was safe. Still on his person. Despite knowing he needed to keep the contents of his jacket pockets unsuspicious, Benny couldn’t for the life of him stop fidgeting. It wasn’t every day you had $1500 worth of goods rubbing against your nipples.
He just needed to get inside. Once he was inside, he’d be safe to deliver what he – wait… why was the line stopping?
A collective groan of the crowd echoed up the wet city street as the selection process began. It was fairly well known that The Knight Owl was poised to turn away anyone they didn’t think worthy of entry. Dress code was important, as was your ability to prove you’d been there before and knew the rules.
Patrons of such an establishment needed to wear one of three colors: white, black, or red. They needed to be a high-caliber individual, clean, poised, and just fuckin’ cool.
Benny wasn’t so certain he fit in with this particular crowd. He’d grown up in East Nasty amongst the rabble rousers, food stamp queens, and drug dealers. These people? These people decorated their coke nails with diamonds and vibrant nail polish. They drank Grey Goose with their Cheerios and threw out white Nikes cause they had a few scuff marks. They sure as hell never had to scrape the shake from their grinders for the last bit of green on a Sunday.
The young man took in a deep breath to calm his nerves. Everything was going to be fine. He just needed to get to the front of this stupid fucking line and let the bouncer know what he had under his jacket. The guy would have to let him in…. right?
Jumping away from a buzzing in his back pocket, he reached around and looked at his phone.. His throat tightened as though he were going into anaphylaxis shock.
“Yo, Big T, how’s–”
“Why’d I just get a call from the client sayin’ you ain’t there yet?”
“What? No, I’m here. I’m outside, I’m standing in line.”
“Boy… why you standin’ in a fuckin’ line for? Use your credentials and get this done. Now.”
“Oh…Right…” Benny hadn’t thought of that. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the two-week-old tattoo on his wrist had that kind of power.
As the boy ducked under the velvet ropes, the boss continued on. “Now look, don’t give those bastards any of it until they hand you the money.”
“I won’t, I swear.”
“That’s what you said last time, and the Cuz had to go clean up your mess. You fuck this one up and you’re goin’ back to your little corner on 3rd. Got it?”
“I won’t let you down, Big-T.”
“Just…be careful how you handle yourself in there, kid.”
“I swear, I got this.”
Click.
“Big T? Hello?” Benny glanced down at his phone to realize the call had ended. Despite his nerves, the young man managed to whisper out a retaliatory, “Asshole,” before pocketing his device.
As he looked up Benny realized the partygoers he’d just cut in line were all staring at him. Daring him to make the move. He tried his best to avoid making eye contact as he didn’t want to have to explain exactly what he was doing. Frankly, he didn’t quite know what he was doing. But straightening his jacket and taking a breath, he stepped up to the doorman.
The problem was the closer he stepped, the more the thin-muscled wannabe thug realized he was outsized. The club doors were easily 10ft tall and doubled. The man in front of them filled that doorway like a linebacker who’d been hit with Szalenski’s enlarging ray. His body and square-shaped head filled the doorway in a manner that made you wonder if he was half-giant.
It only took a few moments for the man’s attention to turn to the worm who’d cut in line, and Benny felt his knees start to shake. His jaw quivered as his hands fidgeted.
“Hey, man, uh….. I… erm…” Benny forgot what he was going to say. He forgot what he was supposed to- “Oh… right… here.” He tugged up his sleeve and revealed an upside-down T tattooed on his wrist in black.
The large man examined it at a glance and reached behind him for the door. Opening it for Benny to enter. The crowd groaned in annoyance that the line cutter had been granted access.
Despite the anticipation of being turned away, there was a rush of cool air from inside that beckoned him in. Benny was surprised by how easy this was all turning out to be.
The credentials really worked.
Maybe he wasn’t going to fuck this up after all.