Block breakers are short stories, random ditties for which the only real purpose is to write something, anything when Writer’s Block strikes. Quality, verbosity, fidelity, consistency – none of these words apply. Just write or die.
So I’m procrastinating from prepping for writing, by writing… here we go again!
P.s. (before the actual script… go figure), this one went a little weird – and it goes in a very different direction for what it initially looks like. I enjoyed writing it anyway, but it’s not my normal thing.
Sasha threw her cup across the room, she threw off her jacket, placed her gun in it’s holster in the top draw of her desk and locked it.
“Damn it!” she shouted, when she was done, “How the hell did he get past us?”
Her assistant stood, mortified like a dear in the headlights.
“Don’t just stand there you dosey git,” Sasha said, “I want answers, and I want answers now. You were meant to put people on the doors.”
“They were…” her assistant, a normally confident twenty-five year old, named Susan Claire, short with scarlet hair and a trim figure, dressed practically but with touches of flair. In the face of her boss’s anger, her confidence was melting.
“They weren’t covering the main entrance, the main bloody entrance. That areshole just walked out,” her boss said, calming down. “Tell me what happened? How was it we were made to look like amateurs by a two bit conman.”
“One of the silent alarms went off,” Susan said, “A couple of the guys on the front went to reinforce the internal team.”
“Damn it,” Sasha said, “How did he slip past the remaining two?”
“I don’t know,” Susan said.
“Get me the names of the two on the front entrance,” Sasha said.