I've written some Scripts...

Three scripts in 2009

Psych “You Can’t Spellcheck Yippie-Ki-Yay”: finalist at The Writer’s Place

The Office “Relationship Divestiture” – WON at the Tenth Annual Moondance Film Festival (along with the Psych script, woot!)

CSI – Crime Scene Investigations “Moved the Cemetery, Not the Bodies”: finalist at Scriptapalooza

Interested in reading them? You can email me or click the “Contact Me” link at the bottom of this page.

Ten more in 2010!

Seems like a great plan for 2002, then I’d only write a couple episodes. But where’s the fun in that? Watch these pages for updates, but for now I’m thinking about the following shows:

Bones, Castle, Cold Case, Criminal Minds, Drop Dead Diva, The Forgotten, House, In Plain Sight, Lie to Me, The Mentalist, Numbers, Royal Pains, and White Collar.

There are three ways you can help:

1) If you see any scripts for those shows, send them to me. One of my goals is to be the perfect mimic and write exactly like the staff on the show writes.

2) If your favorite show is on that list and you have time, can you read my script and give me feedback?

3) If you know of a TV Script contest, forward me the details! I’m submitting these to as many as I can find.

Time Check

Monday · March 30, 2009 · 04:03 PM

A Galaxy of Dreams mentioned a time travel prompt at the One Minute Writer.

I’m totally up for a challenge, here’s what I came up with in a minute.

Fade to:

EXt. New york city street - night

The barest sliver of a moon peeks through an overcast sky. The street is black and glossy, the apartment buildings still drip from a recent downpour.

A police cruiser is parked at the curb, lights flashing.

int. apartment building - hallway

PATROLMAN ABRAM MARIANO is tall, slender, and Hispanic - wearing an official rain slicker and plastic protected hat. He's standing at the door to an apartment.

DETECTIVE MARK ADAMS is attractive, self confident, and dripping wet. He's wearing civilian clothes and is dressed smartly. He walks up to join the patrolman.


I was walking down Seventh Avenue and heard about a domestic disturbance.


Days like this I'm glad I'm no longer a beat cop.


There are better days to be walking around the city.


I got up here and found this, called it in.

There's a four inch hole in the middle of the door, the wood is splintered inward.

adams (O.S.)

Doesn't look like a bullet hole, what do you think made that?


I haven't a clue. And who ever's inside isn't talking.


(loudly to door)

This is Police Detective Adams. Can you open up?

Nothing happens, the two cops look at each other.


(loudly in Spanish)

This is the police, can you talk with us?

Three doors down, an apartment opens as far as the security chain allows. An eye looks out at the scene.

Adams turns to the opened door, steps around Mariano.



The eye sees Adams, surprised, and slams the door closed.


They don't seem to like strangers.


Or cops.

(looks at door)

I think that hole gives us grounds for entering the premises.

He tries the doorknob, the door opens. The two exchange a look and draw their weapons.

int. apartment building - apartment living room

The apartment is cramped, but well kept. Adams steps through the open door.


Hello? This is Police Detective Adams. Is anyone here?

Adams walks around the living room, Mariano joins him.


(in Spanish)

This is the police, anyone here?

A noise from the bedoom gets both of their attention. They stand still, straining to hear.

Crying. Muffled crying.

Mariano is closest, he steps over to the bedroom entrance.

int. apartment building - apartment bedroom

Mariano steps in, gun still drawn.

A double bed sits along one wall, a few pieces of well-worn furniture against the others.

On the bed is a man, or what's left of him. Large bloody chunks soak the bedspread.

A woman is sitting on the floor, head down sobbing.



She looks up at his voice and starts rattling off Spanish at a mile a minute.

Adams (O.S.)

Things okay in there?

Adams walks in the door.

The woman goes mental.

She screams, tries to slide sideways behind the bed.

Mariano holsters his gun and steps over to her making calming sounds.

Adams is staring at the bed.


What the hell?!

The woman yells in Spanish. Mariano continues to try and comfort her.


Who killed this guy?

The officer repeats the question to the woman in Spanish. She repsonds.

Mariano looks up at Adams.


She says you killed him.

The Usual

Saturday · January 07, 2006 · 12:37 PM

This was originally written as part of a script that I wrote in 1992 or so. I lost the full script, but somehow had a few pieces left laying around on eight-inch floppy disks.

Clearly this is a fantasy sequence – Jerry never worked in a corporate environment.

Fade to:

Int. jerry's office - morning

Jerry is sitting at his desk as Elaine walks in.


(with the air of a man that knows)

Elaine, taste this coffee, it's horrible.


Well, since you make it sound so attractive ... Yuk! You shouldn't put so much sugar in.


I didn't. The Coffee Guy did.


You bought this from the Coffee Guy out front?

She hands the coffee back to him as if it were radioactive.


Yes! I've been to Coffee Guy every morning for the past three years and he's always put in too much sugar.




Well, not the first couple of times. I would order the coffee and Coffee Guy would make it the way I wanted it.


So what happened?


After a couple of visits. My order became The Usual and he would make it when he saw me coming over.

He sips without thinking about it and makes a face.


Ohh ... The Usual.


Well one day he must have forgotten that I like it extra light and made it extra sweet instead.


You didn't bring it back?


I get the coffee downstairs, take the elevator up, get to my office, take the coffee out of the bag, pull the cover off, put the cover in the bag, use the little napkin he provides to wipe up the little coffee spills, throw the napkin in the bag, throw out the bag and then taste the coffee. It's too much trouble to go all the way downstairs and get a new cup of coffee. It would ruin the whole morning ritual.

He sips without thinking about it and makes a face.


If you don't complain the first time you get the wrong coffee, then by default that is your new Usual.


I know, I know. Now when Coffee Guy sees me coming, he makes a nice cup of too-sweet coffee for me. What can I do?


You have to tell him.


How can I? It's been three years! He thinks that I like my coffee extra sweet and that he's been a great Coffee Guy getting my coffee ready before I get there. It's like I've been living a lie all these years. I can't tell him the truth now - I've betrayed the customer-Coffee Guy trust.

He sips without thinking about it and makes a face.