Jason Walks into a Bar on Friday the 13th
FADE IN:
INT. BAR. EARLY EVENING.
The bar is a lively, urban tavern with classic rock booming from high tech speakers and lots of young, happy patrons laughing and talking loudly around the crowded bar. A chalk board behind the bar says “DRINK SPECIALS — ONE MORE REASON TO THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY!”
JASON shambles through the open door, cold eyes peering out from behind an age-worn hockey mask as fresh blood drips from the blade of his machete.
A middle-aged BARTENDER with wise, world-weary eyes and a handlebar mustache looks up from polishing a pint glass as JASON approaches.
BARTENDER
Hold it right there Buddy, we don’t serve supernatural serial killers from slasher films in this bar.
JASON cocks his head, clearly indicating he doesn’t understand the reason for this unusual policy and therefore physically indicating he would like an explanation since his character doesn’t speak (another unfortunate side effect of all those years spent at the bottom of Crystal Lake).
BARTENDER
Bad for business. Last time I let one of you guys in here, an hour later the whole place was dead!
Jason takes another halting step forward while raising his machete, the light from an ironic disco ball glinting off its thirsty blade.
FADE OUT.
