INT. HARLEM APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAWN
Crack of. Lawrence sits in bed.
LAWRENCE
You know you're moving when you
have perfect box dreams.*
* That particular flavor of anxiety dream where you dream
you keep finding the perfect sized box for whatever in the
garbage. But when you wake up the box does not come with
you.
Lawrence climbs out of bed. Puts his pants on. He checks
his mail.
INT. LIVING ROOM - MORNING
Lawrence survey's his merchandise. Yet unboxed.
Starts writing a list of the different sizes he needs.
LAWRENCE
Eleven fucking boxes. I combine
shipping and I still need eleven
boxes? My god.
INT. BUS - DAY
Lawrence rides down Lexington.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
They are going to have the exact
right box I need and I don't give
a shit what it costs. I will buy
this box.
LAWRENCE
And if they don't have what I
need, I will conjuor it with my
fucking mind!
He looks around. That last part wasn't supposed to be out
loud.
A WOMAN outside standing on the corner goes to town on a
bright red apple.
The MAN standing next to him is about to finish a biography
of James Madison.
Lawrence notices the boxes by the curb.
LAWRENCE
(softly)
Those are some nice boxes.
INT. MAGIC MOVER'S - DAY
A lazy looking LADY sits behing the desk, IMing with on her
computer.
LAWRENCE
I need big boxes.
Pulls his list out.
LADY
We don't have any.
LAWRENCE
You don't know how big I want
them.
LADY
Okay, fine. Tell me.
LAWRENCE
I need something about four feet
long.
LADY
Don't have it.
LAWRENCE
What do you have?
LADY
We have wardrobe boxes.
LAWRENCE
Are they big?
LADY
They're okay sized.
LAWRENCE
How much?
LADY
Fifteen dollars a piece.
Lawrence's face drops.
LAWRENCE
Give me three. And...
CUT TO:
The Lady hands him his credit card back. Lawrence has as
folded stack of 3 giant wardrobe boxes and 3 regular sized
boxes. Rolls of tape fill his pockets.
LADY
How you gonna get that home?
LAWRENCE
I donno, cab.
LADY
(laughs)
You're not gonna fit those things
in a cab.
LAWRENCE
I'll fit them.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Lawrence pushes the stack into the backseat, filling
everything. Sticking out about a foot too far.
LAWRENCE
Motherfucker.
Lawrence looks back at the Magic Mover's store. The Lady
is watching in awe.
The CABBIE doesn't even get out of his car.
CABBIE
No fit.
LAWRENCE
Can I put them in the trunk?
Lawrence pulls the boxes out of the back seat. Closes the
door.
LAWRENCE
The trunk.
The cab drives off.
LAWRENCE
God--
CUT TO:
EXT. LEXINGTON - MORNING
Lawrence carries the heap of boxes on his head.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
I want you to imagine a person
humping six boxes seventeen
blocks up Lexington avenue this
morning.
LAWRENCE
These things are way bigger than
four feet.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
The top most bone in the spinal
colomn, is named 'Atlas.'
INT. HARDWARE STORE - DAY
Lawrence waits for fifteen minutes while the WOMAN BEHIND
THE COUNTER chats on the phone.
LAWRENCE
Hi, I need a box cutter.
WOMAN BEHIND THE COUNTER
You got I-D?
LAWRENCE
I-D. I guess.
Hands it to her. She makes a face. It looks nothing like
him. He looks much more like a terrorist than he did when
he was 21.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Add a couple of sacks of peanuts to Lawrece's load.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
I still need a computer box to
ship my beast home.
In the distance Lawrence sees one. Really this time!
It's just big enough. Ohmygod! It calls to him. It even
says a computer brand on the side of it.
Lawrence gets right up on the box. It's filled to
practically overflowing with something resembling vomit.
LAWRENCE
Hmm.
(thinks about it)
No, I can't use that.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
U-P-S guy is coming at three.
I'm going to put all that shit
inside this cardboard if it
fucking kills me.
INT. HARLEM APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAY
Lawrence opens the wardrobes, way too big for these thin
stands.
LAWRENCE
Fuck this, I'm not buying more.
Lawrence pulls out his box cutter. Slices the wardrobe box
in half, a long crooked, cut.
LAWRENCE
I'll make my own.
Lawrence looks at the clock. It's noon already.
Lawrence disappears behind a cloud of cartoon dust.
When it clears he has made a six-sided tower out of tape
and cardboard. A lot of tape.
He shaves, yes literally shaves the corners down with his
cutter.
LAWRENCE
That's a light stand box!
It tips. He catches it.
Looks at the clock. It's Noon-thirty!
He looks at the 9 other stands and boxes he needs to make.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
I need to get better at this.
Cleaner corners. Less tape.
Faster.
INT. HARLEM APARTMENT, HALLWAY - DAY
Fast motion scene. Stands disappear. Boxes in the shape
of those stands appear some seconds later.
INT. HARLEM APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAY
The room is a mess. He's doing everything on his bed.
Making cuts, slicing his bedsheets underneith.
He drops the box cutter. It narrowly misses his socked
foot.
The room is a chaos of bubble wrap, packing peanuts and box
shavings.
Slows down. Lawrence jumps around, a big cut on his
finger. He sucks it. Then wraps tape around it.
The clock reads 2:45pm. Gotta keep going.
CUT TO:
Lawrence prints out UPS label after label. Tapes them.
Hopes he didn't mix them up.
The buzzer rings.
LAWRENCE
Mother fucker.
The printer slowly prints the last label.
Lawrence exits the apartment in his boxers.
The UPS GUY has seen it all.
UPS GUY
We got a pick up?
LAWRENCE
Yeah it's all.
The UPS guys's grabbing a small banker's box. One full of
Lawrence's books.
LAWRENCE
No, not those. Over here.
The UPS guy inspects the tape job.
LAWRENCE
These five, that one, and that
one over there.
The UPS guy looks suspicious of the box's stability.
LAWRENCE
What?
UPS GUY
(shaking head)
You made these didn't you?
LAWRENCE
Yeah so...
Lawrence eyes him. About to cry.
UPS GUY
Whatever.
EXT. STREET - DAY
They both carry boxes to the truck. One in brown shorts
and one in blue bird boxers and socks.
LAWRENCE
If I never see another fucking
box ever again.
Someone whistles.
INT. BEDROOM - DAY
The printer finishes the label. Lawrence runs into the
apartment. Grabs the last label and pulls a police line
sized piece of tape.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
Oh Hil, if you could fucking see
me now! This is how everything
goes down.
Lawrence bites the tape off with his teeth and runs for the
door.
LAWRENCE (V.O.)
My life is tearing shit off with
my teeth and running like hell.
EXT. STREET - DAY
The truck is closed and double parked. Lawrences emerges
with the final box. A real peach.
The UPS Guy gives him a 'fuck you' look.
INT. HARLEM APARTMENT, BEDROOM - DAY
Lawrence pulls on his pants. Grabs his keys and his
wallet.
Checks the time. It's somehow almost five.
LAWRENCE
Wow. I do actually feel lighter.
EXT. STREET, SOHO - AFTERNOON
Lawrence walks past a pile of boxes next to some garbage.
They're dirty and folded.
He stops. Checks em out like they were a woman.
Two COLLEGE KIDS sitting on a stoop play with a dog.
COLLEGE KID #1
You moving?
LAWRENCE
You can tell?
CUT TO:
Lawrence pases another dumpster full of folded and cut up
boxes. This one bigger than the last.
He shields his view.
INT. APPLE STORE, SOHO - LATER
Lawrence screws around on the 12" powerbook. Everything is
hip and color coordinated. Techno remixes fill his ears.
Cute indy rock girls walk around with their iPods on.
LAWRENCE
(smiling)
Doo Doodley Doo.
FADE TO BLACK:
Friday, September 24, 2004
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