INT. Day, dimly-lit bedroom
We are in a dingy bedroom. It's a bit of a mess, clothes
strewn about, empty pizza boxes, etc. CONRAD PRIME, a scruffy guy in his
mid-twenties, is asleep on his stomach on a futon in the corner, snoring
irritatingly and dressed in what we can assume are the clothes he wore the
previous day. After awhile, an alarm starts buzzing, but the man in the futon
doesn't stir. We see his face up close, and a hand slaps him, hard. He jumps
up, disconcerted from just having woken up, to see who hit him. There's no one
around. He sits back, rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Wait a beat, and Conrad's
phone rings. He looks at the screen, sighs, and answers it.
CONRAD
Hello?
voice on the phone
(Muffled, we can barely hear) Conrad, it's Joey over
at work. We need you to come in today.
CONRAD
Aw, come on, man. This is my first day off in two weeks.
joey
I know, but the week's shipment just got here and Clara and
Ed both have the flu.
CONRAD
What about Sam?
JOEY
Sam got fired last night right after you left. How soon can
you be here?
CONRAD
[Sighs] Alright, fine. Be there in twenty. But you owe me,
man.
A click comes from the phone. Joey has already hung up.
CONRAD
Shit.
Conrad puts the phone in his pocket, rubs his face, and gets
up. He walks out of his room down a short hallway to the bathroom, and closes
the door. Cut to us seeing him in the shower from outside the curtain. Cut
again to a shot of him shaving in his boxers. Once he's done shaving he looks
down at the pile of his clothes on the floor, the ones that he took off before
his shower. He picks up the shirt, smells it and puts it back on. Cut to him
walking down the hallway again. He sees a cigarette pack on the floor, picks it
up to discover that it has a lone cigarette yet unsmoked, takes it out of the
pack and lights it. He looks at a clock in the living room. It is 6:15am.
ext. day, a car being driven down the
street
Conrad is behind the wheel of his late-90s Asian economy car.
The car reflects Conrad as a person: it is dirty, covered in cigarette ash and
fast food grease, but nominally functional. The radio tinnily plays something
mournful, and Conrad continues to smoke his only cigarette. He's fully awake
now, the confusion of being slapped awake given way entirely to impotent anger
at being called in on his day off. His phone rings again. It is Marigold, his
girlfriend.
CONRAD
Hello?
marigold
[Over the phone, barely audible] Mornin'!
CONRAD
Hey there! What're you doing up so early?
MARIGOLD
I'm still up from last night. Work has been crazy lately.
I've got a big presentation on Wednesday and half of my team is home sick with
this damn flu.
CONRAD
Yeah, that's the reason I'm getting called in on my goddamn
day off
MARIGOLD
[Doesn't respond for a second, then is mildly pissed] So I guess our lunch date is off?
CONRAD
[Getting more angry] I only get like fifteen minutes for lunch. What do you want me to do?
MARIGOLD
I don't know, maybe get a real job?
The car slows down, and Conrad pulls into a space in a
decent-sized parking lot in front of a warehouse.
CONRAD
Yeah, well, we can't all be rising middle management
superstars. Listen, I gotta go; I just got to work. I'll call you later.
MARIGOLD
Fine. 'Bye.
Conrad hangs up the phone with a scowl, gets out of the car.
As he walks to the building he takes a last drag on his cigarette, flicking the
butt away. He hesitates, almost imperceptibly, before he walks through the
front door.
int. cubicle farm. day
Conrad walks into a big room with a low ceiling, populated by
a grid of cubicles. He looks around warily, sees JOEY, his boss, off on one
side of the room yelling at someone. Conrad shoots Joey his most
passive-agressive glower, and goes to his cube, sits down and starts typing. A
digital clock on his desk reads 7:00...
...And then it reads 12:30. Conrad is hard at work on a
spreadsheet on his cubicle's standard-issue computer. He looks at the clock for
probably the hundredth time since he got there. He stands up, looks around,
leaves his cube and makes his way to an office on the outskirts of the cubicle
farm. Inside the office is Joey, yelling at someone on the phone.
JOEY
No, Friday's not good enough. If you don't have that shit on
Jensen's desk by 5 o'clock Wednesday it's your ass, not mine. [pause, notices
Conrad standing at his door, nods at him] Just get it done.
Joey hangs up the phone and addresses Conrad.
JOEY
Listen, man. Thanks for coming in on such short notice. If it
helps, this is gonna look real good on your performance review.
CONRAD
Yeah, great. I'm taking lunch now; I'll be back in twenty.
JOEY
Your lunch break's fifteen.
CONRAD
I'll be back in twenty.
Conrad walks out of the office, past the cubicle farms, down
a flight of stairs and out the door to the parking lot.
ext. day. conrad's car
Conrad is back in his vehicle. Another tune plays on his
radio. He pulls a cigarette pack out of his center console, looks in it; it is
empty.
CONRAD
Goddammit.
He pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store and gets
out of his car. On his way to the entrance a man with a huge black beard in a
sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head bumps into him.
hooded guy
'Scuse me.
Conrad is mildly put out, but shakes it off fairly quickly.
int. day. Convenience Store
Conrad goes to the side of the store, grabs an
industrial-size energy drink out of a fridge, then walks up to the counter.
Clerk
That it?
CONRAD
Gimme a pack of coffin nails too.
The clerk goes to the cigarette rack, takes a pack out and
puts it on the counter.
CLERK
Total's $11.50.
Conrad nods, goes into his pocket for his wallet, but it's not there.
CONRAD
Shit, Must've left my wallet in the car. Be right back.
Conrad walks back out to his car and looks for his wallet; it
is nowhere to be found. He sighs.
CONRAD
Son of a bitch.
His quest to get cigarettes turning out to be a lost cause, there's nothing for it but to go back to work.
int. day. cubicle farm
The clock on Conrad's desk now reads 2:35. We watch him
typing for a spell, when his phone rings. It is his roommate Seamus, who is a
TA at the local community college who moonlights as a mad scientist.
CONRAD
Hello?
seamus
Conrad! How soon can you be home?
CONRAD
I'm at work, Seamus, I can't just pick up and leave. Why?
What did you blow up?
SEAMUS
Nothing, this time! I got it working! You have to get back
here; this is incredible!
Conrad looks at his clock again. It just switched over to
2:37.
CONRAD
You know what, fuck it. I'll be there in like fifteen minutes.
He hangs up the phone and stands up slowly, scanning the
area. Joey is nowhere to be seen, so he creeps out of his cubicle and makes his
way back to the front door.
ext. day. outside conrad's house
Conrad parks his car on the street in front of his house,
gets out and walks up to the front door.
int. day. a messy house
Conrad walks inside the house, on his guard for some horrible
monstrosity unleashed by his roommate.
CONRAD
Seamus! Yo, where are you?
SEAMUS
[muffled]Down here!
Conrad goes to the basement steps and walks down them into Seamus' home laboratory, consisting mostly of equipment stolen from his day job. Seamus himself, dressed in an oil-stained white dress shirt and blue sweatpants, is standing in front of an old-style latching refrigerator with wires and tubes and shit coming out of it.
CONRAD
Where the fuck did you get that? Also what is it?
SEAMUS
[Giddy with excitement]You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Look at this!
Seamus leads Conrad to a small cage. We see them both staring
in from the cage's perspective through a fisheye effect. Seamus is beaming with
pride, and Conrad looks like he's about to throw up.
CONRAD
What the fuck is that thing? Is that a mouse? Jesus Christ!
SEAMUS
It's incredible, isn't it? [waves at the mouse] Hey there, little guy! Want some food?
From the bottom left corner of the screen a gnarled tiny arm
stretches out towards Seamus and Conrad.
SEAMUS
Conrad, what you're looking at here is the world's first time
traveler.
CONRAD
That ain't funny, man. It looks like it's in pain. What did
you do to it?
SEAMUS
He's not in pain. Mice don't feel pain.
CONRAD
I think you're thinking of fish. Fish don't feel pain.
SEAMUS
No, definitely mice. [He grabs Conrad by the shoulders and
subtly pushes him towards the fridge.] Now get in.
CONRAD
What? Fuck you!
Conrad is trying to get out of Seamus' grip but he's
surprisingly strong for an egghead.
SEAMUS
I've got all the bugs worked out! It's completely safe!
CONRAD
Look at that fucking mouse! You call that safe?
SEAMUS
It was a silly little problem and I fixed it. Now stop being
a pussy!
Seamus almost has Conrad in the time machine, but Conrad gets
an arm free and clocks Seamus, probably breaking his nose but in any case
bloodying the hell out of it. This puts him off balance though, and Seamus uses
his temporary advantage to push Conrad fully into the fridge.