Not Another Happy Ending Page #3

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...by Scotland's most talented

screenwriter. Will Scott.

Huge fan. Naturally I want

to know how he's getting on.

Well, I mean I may not be

the most talented but...

...who else are you going to pick?

Where is my novel?

I'm working on it.

So you're not suffering

from El Torro Blanco?

The what?

- So you're not b-I-o-c-k-e-d?

- Why are you spelling it?

It's nothing to be ashamed of and there

are plenty of strategies to overcome it.

I'm not blocked.

- For instance, stimulants and narcotics.

- I'm not blocked.

For a while there, Hunter

S Thompson was permanently unblocked.

I'm not blocked.

Until you deliver that manuscript

you're still under contract to me.

So, whatever's going on, snap out

of it and get writing. 'Bye, Jane.

'Bye Jane.

Oh, he's not gone, has he?

We never got the chance to

talk about my screenplay.

Hi.

The French really appreciate my work,

you know. Connoisseurs de Cinema. Oh aye.

We should have him

over for dinner. Your wine.

Bathroom.

I know you, don't I? Where was it we met?

Chapter Two. I'm in the

opening chapter of course...

...but I'd say you only really

get to know me from Chapter Two on.

Darsie?

What do you think?

I think I'm talking to my protagonist.

I prefer heroine.

What are you doing here?

It's a very intense narrative.

I personally have suffered a broken

engagement and two bereavements, so far.

Yes, I know. Sorry.

Oh no, please don't apologise.

I think it's going to make me

a stronger person in the end.

The end? Yes, so you're

going to go back and finish it?

I can't do that, not without you.

Why can't you finish it,

Jane? What are you afraid of?

Get a hold of yourself, will you.

Gets me every time. Three times now.

It's that ending...

Don't talk to me about damn

endings. Do your marking.

Okay. It's silly.

Oh, Jane says hi.

That poor lassie.

She must have lead such a

shocking life to write like that.

What are you saying?

Ah well, the lonely page,

the endless introspection...

...the mind plagued by funky thoughts.

It's how writers tick, isn't

it? No misery, no poetry.

Yeah?

Did you speak to Jane Lockhart?

Yes, she's happy. Very happy. Happier

than she's ever been, apparently.

And the novel?

Tom? Hello? You still there?

Tom?

I have a problem I believe may

be suited to your particular talents.

Let's say...

...a miserable writer...

...through the supreme efforts of her

publisher and her own meagre talent...

...becomes successful and

happy. Are you listening?

Hello, sir.

Amber. Roxanne.

Out on a school night, sir?

This your boyfriend, sir?

Say nothing, just keep very still.

You don't want to antagonise them.

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