Blooded

Forest Juziuk, noted local graffiti photographer, has a pretty spectacular blog. When he isn't keeping you up-to-date on how busy he is, he writes some pretty psychedelic short stories. A while ago he wrote one which I attempted to turn into a short film. I forget how the story goes, it's in that blog somewhere, but it had something to do with superheroes. Below you'll find all that remains.

[Ext: Night]

[Mismatched sheets hung over the windows and can barely keep the lights of passing cars from entering the room. In one corner of this room an old fashioned radiator, covered in candle wax, hisses away. In the other corner of the room is a full size bed in which two late twenty-something females sit/lay. The bed sags unmercifully in the middle due to the age of the bed, not the weight of the women. Music from outside drifts in. It sounds like Led Zeppelin through a distortion pedal.]

Woman one: "Wait, hold on a minute. I know it's in here. I know it is."

[From a macramé bag, easily mistaken for a plant hanger, the woman produces a red velvet cummerbund. They bother laugh uproariously.]

Woman two: Oooohhh…you let the dog taste blood. Endless.