03/08/2001
Logline:
Delivering murder…with extra cheese!
EXT. JENNIFER’S HOUSE – NIGHT. A peaceful suburban community. All the houses on the block are carbon copies of one another. Brightly painted, the lawns well maintained. This neighborhood oozes an upper-middle class vibe. We focus on a single house.
Inside, JENNIFER sits on the couch, channel surfing, provocative in panties and a t-shirt. She’s nearly thirty, but has retained the same knock-out good looks that she had in high school. Bottom line – she’s hot in that special way that makes other girls jealous.
The doorbell RINGS. Jennifer strides over to the front door like a model walking the runway. She opens it. Standing on the other side is a man/boy in a red and yellow striped polo, his greasy face pockmarked, remnants of a long and brutal battle with acne. This is GUIDO ROSSI (30), as awkward and nerdy as he was in school.
“Oh, it’s you,” Jennifer says in disgust and accepts the pizza box Guido thrusts at her. Guido’s wearing a goofy grin. “God, you’re such a
perv
. It’s creepy.” But a mischievous glimmer flashes in her eyes. “You know, it is kind of lonely here. Would you mind keeping me company?”
Jennifer runs a hand slowly down her shirt, over her breast, down to her panties, toying with him. She opens the lid of the pizza box and says, “Yum.” Guido is smiling broadly now, telling her that he put extra cheese on it. Jennifer’s seductive smile drops, replaced by disappointment. “Only you forgot to slice it. Let me just go get something to cut it with.”
Suddenly, Guido bursts into the house, pushes Jennifer down to the floor. He straddles her, knees pinning down her arms. “That’s okay. I brought my own.” He reveals a long, gleaming
mezzaluna
. Jennifer screams. He brings the mezzaluna down on Jennifer’s neck, rocking it back and forth. He laughs maniacally as blood splashes his face.
Minutes later…Jennifer’s now headless body is positioned on the couch in a sitting position. Guido has his arm around her shoulders, feet propped up on the coffee table as he enjoys a slice of pizza.
INT. GUIDO’S CAR – NIGHT. Guido’s holding a LIST of names in his hand. He’s drawing a line through the name at the top of the list, when he has a FLASHBACK.
We see YOUNG GUIDO, scrawny, bad hair, full-blown acne, walking a long hallway lined with LOCKERS as girls pass, giggling at him.
A group of JOCKS wearing high school letter jackets brush past him, knocking the school books out of his hands. One of them says, “Watch where you’re goin’,
freak
.”
Young Guido stoops down, picking them up, when a HAND picks one of the books up and hands it to him. Young Guido glances up. A pretty girl, AMY HARMS, holds the book out to him, smiling. It’s a touching moment, a special moment for Young Guido in particular, when it is suddenly shattered by another girl saying, “C’mon, Amy, let’s go already. Quit helping the freakazoid.” We recognize this snotty girl as a younger version of Jennifer.
Amy says, “Sorry,” and hurries off to catch up with her girlfriends. Young Guido collects his books, watching Amy longingly as she walks away.
The flashback into this tender moment in Guido’s past ends. A single TEAR runs down his pockmarked cheek as he folds the list and shoves it in his pocket.
INT. HARMS VETERINARY CLINIC – DAY. Amy (29) is bent over an examination table. Her patient: a rather obese-looking GOLDEN RETRIEVER. She is as gorgeous now as she was ten years ago. She bandages the dog’s paw.
Amy helps the dog down from the table and leads it out into the waiting room, where a WOMAN and two CHILDREN jump out of their seats, showering the dog with love. The Woman thanks Amy before they leave, their loyal family pet in tow.
The waiting room is empty except for a handsome man in his late twenties, BRENT SPEICHER. Brent is wearing a worn LETTER JACKET and blue jeans. He goes over to Amy and kisses her. Amy resists slightly. “I’m working.” Brent puts his hands in the air, giving her that You’re-So-Sexy-Can-You-Really-Blame-Me look.
“We still on for tonight?” Brent asks. Amy explains that she has a long day ahead of her tomorrow, suggests they maybe just spend the evening curled up on the couch, watching movies. “C’mon, babe, it’s our ten year reunion. I told the guys we’d be there.”
“Exactly. Ten years and there’s still no ring on my finger.” It’s obvious that this is a tense subject. Brent feeds her the same excuses he’s been feeding her since they graduated high school. Sweet talks her. Reluctantly, she agrees.
“That’s my girl.”
Outside, there’s the loud honk of a car horn. Through the window, we see a MUSCLE CAR parked crookedly in front of the clinic’s lot. “Gotta jet, babe. Dustin and the guys are waiting. We’re on our way to pick up Jennifer and Molly.” Amy asks what trouble they’re up to and Brent tells her that they’re just reliving childhood memories.
INT. ROSSI’S PIZZERIA – DAY. Guido is in the kitchen. PASQUALE ROSSI, Guido’s father, is a short and stocky man with a grumbling voice. He barks orders at Guido as Guido stirs a huge iron pot of melted cheese with a long wooden spoon.
Guido sweats over the cheese. Vats of marinara sauce steam, lengths of pepperoni, chopped onions, green peppers, and sliced mushrooms litter a dozen cutting boards throughout the busy kitchen. Clearly, Pasquale demands that his ingredients be fresh.
Pasquale’s voice is perpetually stuck at shouting level. Guido slaves over the giant pot of homemade cheese as it bubbles like hot yellow tar.
A voice over the intercom shouts, “Delivery order!”
INT. GUIDO’S CAR – DAY. Guido makes another delivery. He drives past his old high school, slowing down when he sees the big white banner that advertises WELCOME BACK CLASS OF ’91. He removes the list of names from his pockets, looks them over. The next name on the list is MOLLY RHODES.
EXT. MOLLY’S HOUSE – DAY. A sprawling Colonial-style house with a spacious front yard. In the back is an Olympic-sized swimming pool. MOLLY RHODES (29) does lazy laps before getting out of the pool in her bright red bikini. She squeezes water out of her long blonde hair. Towels herself dry before sitting down in a plastic lounging chair, which is shaded by a PARASOL. She drinks from a glass of iced tea with lemon wedges floating in it.
She puts on her sunglasses and closes her eyes as she sunbathes. Hears the CREAK of the gate as it is unlatched. She smiles. “Hey guys, it’s about time,” she starts to say as she removes her sunglasses and looks around.
Guido is standing there, in his red and yellow uniform, red visor with the Rossi’s Pizzeria logo on it. He’s holding square cardboard box.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks in a voice that is more perturbed than frightened. “I didn’t order a pizza.”
Guido comes closer, explaining that he knows she is always watching her figure, so he brought her a salad. He hands her the box, telling her it’s fresh. Molly opens the box, peeks in…
…and JENNIFER’S HEAD, each eye covered with a perfectly round pepperoni, stares at her from the box.
Molly drops the box, screams. In a flash, Guido slashes her throat with a PIZZA WHEEL. Molly clutches her throat, blood seeping between her fingers. She falls into the pool. The water goes cloudy with blood as she sinks to the bottom.
INT. MUSCLE CAR – EVENING. The car screeches to a halt. Through the passenger side window, we can see Jennifer’s house. Brent’s in the passenger seat. DUSTIN CAHILL, who looks like he could be the poster boy for steroid use, is in the driver’s seat. Dustin honks the horn.
“Hell’s taking her so long?” They debate. Decide to go up to the door.
EXT. JENNIFER’S HOUSE – SAME TIME. Brent goes to knock on the door, but finds it open a crack. They walk in. That’s when they see Jennifer’s headless corpse posed on the couch.
Brent and Dustin run back to the car and haul ass out of there. As they pull away from the curb, another car – Guido’s car – trails behind them.
INT. AMY’S HOUSE – NIGHT. The sound of RUNNING WATER. Steam issues from the bathroom. The water goes off. A moment later, Amy emerges from the bathroom wearing only a towel. She crosses into the bedroom, rooting around in the closet, selecting clothes. She decides on a red SATIN DRESS. We get a shadowed view of her slipping into the dress through the mirror above her wardrobe.
Amy hears the front door open. Footsteps. She pads over to the wardrobe, opens the top drawer, digging through neatly folded underwear to find the compact HANDGUN hidden at the bottom. She spins, a nondescript FIGURE stands in the semi-darkness of the hallway outside the bedroom door. The figure moves forward. Amy yells, “Stop! I’ve got a gun!” The figure pauses in the doorway, switches on the light. It’s Brent. Amy lowers the gun, relieved. She scolds Brent for scaring the shit out of her. Brent’s face is grave. She asks him what’s wrong. He tells her about finding Jennifer…what’s left of her anyway.
Amy asks Brent why he hasn’t called the cops yet. “I wanted to make sure you were safe first,” he says as he leads her into the living room. Dustin is standing there, and despite looking like a tank made of bronze skin and rippling muscle, he looks noticeably shaken.
“We have to go to the police,” Amy says. No one argues. Dustin reaches the door first, throws it open and –
GUIDO IS STANDING THERE! In an instant, Guido slashes down with the mezzaluna and cleaves Dustin’s head in two. It is still stuck in Dustin’s head as he collapses to the floor.
“Wanna hear tonight’s special?” Guido asks. “It’s extra juicy. Two for the price of one!”
Guido unshoulders a strange DEVICE strapped to his back. It looks like a WEED WACKER, but the end has been modified to be a large pizza wheel cutter. Guido yanks the starting cord and the pizza wheel spins to life. “Time to slice and dice!”
Amy and Brent flee as Guido chases after them. They reach the bedroom – a dead end. Guido has them cornered. Amy throws open the window. Brent pushes her out, follows after her, but he isn’t quick enough. Guido brings the automated pizza cutter down on his shoulder, slicing through his shirt, blood spurting.
Brent falls through the window. Amy goes back for him. She glances to the bedroom window. It’s empty. She pleads with Brent to get up, but he doesn’t respond. Suddenly, Guido appears behind her and knocks her unconscious.
INT. ROSSI’S PIZZERIA – NIGHT. Amy regains consciousness. She’s in a large commercial kitchen. She’s bound to a chair. Brent is bound in a chair next to her, his head drooped forward, blood streaming from the injury to his shoulder.
A voice says, “Have a nice nap, sleepy head?”
Amy sees Guido, he’s standing by the industrial stove, stirring the pot of cheese. “You know what my father’s secret is?” Guido asks. “It’s simple. We make our own cheese. Old Italian recipe.”
Amy asks why he’s doing this. Guido shoves the list in her face. He explains how he was bullied in high school. How he snapped. And now he’s getting revenge. “But my name isn’t on the list,” Amy says.
Guido softens. He absently spins the wheel on the pizza wheel cutter he’s holding. It makes a metallic sound as he spins it. “You were always kind to me.” Guido goes into a long speech about how he’s always loved her. While Guido is distracted, Amy subtly works her hands, trying to free them from the rope that binds them. She manages to loosen them enough to get her hands out. “We would have made a great couple,” Guido is saying. We can almost sympathize with his plight. “Ended up together. You just…chose the wrong friends.” Guido looks genuinely saddened. “But I took care of that, so now we can be together.”
Amy rushes Guido while he’s lost in his thoughts. They struggle, knocking pots and pans and cutlery to the floor. A vat of marinara falls to the floor, spraying red sauce. Guido slashes out with the pizza cutter, slicing Amy’s arm. She lashes out, kicks him in the crotch. Guido slips and falls on his back.
Amy, thinking quickly, grabs the large pot of bubbling cheese and tips it over. Melted cheese gushes onto Guido’s face. He screams as it scalds him, congealing to his face. Amy screams, “How about extra cheese with that!”
Guido keeps screaming as the burning cheese melts his face. He stops moving.
Amy frees Brent. He moans. She helps him out of the pizzeria.