FADE IN

INT. OFFICE - NIGHT

Lamplit living room. A VAMPIRE shrouded in a cape stands looking out the far window. The SCREENWRITER appears at the open front door with a camera strapped around his neck and a laptop under his arm.

SWRITER

Sorry I'm late, got caught in traffic--

VAMP (not turning)

Come in. Make yourself comfortable.

SWriter enters, puts his equipment on a coffee table and starts setting up the computer, looking for a jack.

VAMP (still not turning)

No pictures, please.

SWRITER

Oh. Well. Whatever.

He settles himself with the laptop, looks hopefully at Vamp.

SWRITER

Shall we begin?

Vamp turns. Strides closer. Peers at SW.

VAMP

You'll do, I suppose. You'll have to.

SWRITER

Um. How did you get my number, anyway?

VAMP

A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend gave it to me. So tell me, what have you written?

SWRITER

Nine feature screenplays, fifty-three short stories, scores of poems--

VAMP

Anything sold?

SWRITER

Um. Not yet. But I'm sure this interview--

Vamp steps menacingly closer.

VAMP

Let's quit wasting time. It's nearly dawn. Just relax--

Vamp grabs SWriter by the shoulders, bares his teeth, and bites him in the neck.

SWRITER

Hey, waitaminute! What're you doing?

VAMP

Having breakfast.

He wipes his mouth on a handkerchief from his pocket.

VAMP

Didn't I mention? My dream has always been to be a  screenwriter. But I never had the time.

SWRITER

What?! I thought you were going to make me famous, not steal my ideas.

VAMP

Ideas, life force, creativity. Whatever.

SWRITER

But why me?

VAMP

Well, beggars can't be choosers. After all, Francis Ford Coppola recommended you.

SWRITER (astonished)

He did? What did he say?

VAMP

He said you're the last screenwriter on earth.

SWRITER (pleased)

He did? (On second thought) Um. Why would he say that? Do you remember his exact words?

VAMP

He said "I would (static sound) hire him (static sound) last screenwriter on earth."

SWRITER (wilts)

Ah. You were using a cell phone!

VAMP

Of course. He's in Belize. Do you know what air travel is like these days?

SWRITER

Then, I'm here because you think I'm the last screenwriter on earth. Bummer.

VAMP

You mean, you're not? There are others?

 SWRITER

THOUSANDS of others. Just look!

SWriter types a few strokes, turns the laptop toward Vamp. Vamp's eyes widen in revelation.

He sticks out his tongue as if he's just won a Survivor icky challenge.

VAMP

Arrrrgggghhhhh! You mean, I could've had a V-8?!

Finds a clean spot on the handkerchief, wipes his tongue.

SWRITER

Did you say V-8? I could go for one of those.

He stands, they put their arms around each other's shoulders, start toward the kitchen.

SWRITER

Now, about that interview--

FADE OUT