SOUND:
A SHOT IS FIRED FROM A WEAPON WITH A SILENCER. MARCUS FALLS DEAD.
WINKLER:
(TAKES A COUPLE OF LONG, DEEP BREATHS) Pity. I’m going to have to find someone to clean this mess up now.
ANNOUNCER:
Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories will continue in a moment.
ANNOUNCER:
Now back to Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories, and “Living Space.”
NARRATOR:
These are difficult times, with property prices at an all-time high, and bank balances rarely, if ever, out of the red. It’s all too easy to feel the squeeze... but some people feel it more keenly than others, of course. Case in point, Derek Weathers, and the young woman he likes to think of as his fiancée, Francine Spinetti.
SOUND:
THRU TO A BUSY MANHATTAN STREET.
FRANCINE:
It’s a mistake.
DEREK:
It’s not a mistake.
FRANCINE:
Uh-huh.
DEREK:
Nuh-uh. I got a good feeling about this.
FRANCINE:
You have a good feeling every time you buy a lottery ticket, Derek. Nobody rents out a Manhattan apartment for so little – it’s obviously a misprint.
DEREK:
I spoke to the guy on the phone this morning, and he didn’t say it was a misprint.
FRANCINE:
Did you ask him?
DEREK:
I didn’t think- it wasn’t the right time.
FRANCINE:
When is the right time, Derek? When we have to pay the first month’s rent, and it wipes out both our bank accounts?
DEREK:
Do we still really need separate accounts after two years?
FRANCINE:
I’m not having this discussion again.
DEREK:
OK, say it is a misprint.
FRANCINE:
I already did.
DEREK:
They have to give it to us at the advertised rate, Francine – it’s the law.
FRANCINE:
It is so not the law.
DEREK:
It’s not like it really matters that much-
FRANCINE:
In what alternate universe does it not matter?
DEREK:
In the one where I’m The Daily Show’s latest correspondent. I know they got my audition tape – I called and asked them. What? What’s that look? I know that look.
FRANCINE:
(WARY) I’m excited for you, Derek, you know I am.
DEREK:
But?
FRANCINE:
But... in the meantime, maybe you could think about finding some work?
DEREK:
I’m looking for work.
FRANCINE:
Looking for work as a comedian – it’s not exactly a growth industry.
DEREK:
“Comedy is recession-proof”. Bill Maher said that.
FRANCINE:
I am so sick of hearing what Bill Maher says! Bill Maher doesn’t buy our groceries, Derek, Bill Maher doesn’t pay our rent!
DEREK:
So what are you saying, Francine?
FRANCINE:
(A CRY OF FRUSTRATION) I’m saying we can’t live on the money I bring in – you need to get a job.
DEREK:
I already-
FRANCINE:
The occasional gig at Caroline’s does not count as work, Derek. Look, Meryl’s leaving the bookstore next month – you could do what she does, I could talk to the manager.
DEREK:
I’m not sure couples should work together.
FRANCINE:
I’m prepared to risk it for the sake of the bank balance. I really think it could be good for you, for your social skills.
DEREK:
I make people laugh for a living – how do I not have good social skills?
FRANCINE:
(SIGHS) Tell me you’ll think about it.
DEREK:
Do you remember what happened last year, Francine?
FRANCINE:
Yeah, I almost went to jail because I couldn’t pay that parking ticket – had to sell the car.
DEREK:
I turned 25. That’s a landmark- DEREK &
FRANCINE:
(SIMULTANEOUSLY (FRANCINE IS WEARIED – SHE’S HEARD THIS BEFORE) A quarter of a century.
DEREK:
It’s a big deal, and it really, really brought it home to me – life is too short.
FRANCINE:
(MUTTERING TO SELF) Not mine.
DEREK:
I mean, we only get one shot at it, right?
FRANCINE:
Unless you’re a Hindu.
DEREK:
I don’t want to say I wasted it doing something I hated doing. You never know when you’re going to be hit by a car, or run over by a steamroller.
FRANCINE:
“Run over by a steamroller”... Somehow I wound up dating a guy who learned all his life lessons from Looney Tunes cartoons – is there one where a safe drops on your head?
DEREK:
Funny-ha-ha. You know, we’re doing a lot more than just dating, Francine.
FRANCINE:
Yeah.
DEREK:
Yeah. And I love you. (NO REPLY. IN A FLOWERY VOICE) I love you.
FRANCINE:
What? Yeah, me too. God, needy much?
NARRATOR:
As you’ve probably guessed, discerning listener, Derek and Francine are travelling over familiar ground with much of this conversation. But there’s one element that is brand new – a newspaper advertisement for a Manhattan apartment at a price even they can afford. But despite Francine’s caution, they’ve both failed to take into account that great unavoidable truth - that when something seems too good to be true, that’s because it is too good to be true. And as they enter the foyer of the building listed in the newspaper ad, neither of them picks up on the fact that there are no security cameras. Very unusual in this security-conscious day and age...
SOUND:
THRU TO THE FOYER OF THE GRAND APARTMENT BUILDING. STREET SOUNDS CAN STILL BE HEARD FAINTLY AS THEY ENTER, THEIR FOOTSTEPS ECHOING ON THE TILED FLOOR.
DEREK:
Wow. If they said I had to sleep out here, it’d be worth it. This is like something out of a movie. It’s like that place in The Shining, but in a good way.
FRANCINE:
If the super looks like Jack Nicholson, I’m out of here.
DEREK:
This place won’t have a super, it’ll have a concierge – a guy with tassels on his sleeves.
FRANCINE:
So where is he?
DEREK:
Somewhere. He’s just... away. Doing stuff. Guy can’t be everywhere at once.
SOUND:
HE CLAPS HIS HANDS TOGETHER.
DEREK:
So, what do you think?
FRANCINE:
I think it’s definitely a misprint.
DEREK:
That again?
FRANCINE:
You honestly think we could afford to rent an apartment in a place like this?
SOUND:
OFF-MIC, AN OLD-FASHIONED “PING”! AS THE ELEVATOR ARRIVES. THE DOORS OPEN. WINKLER APPROACHES.
FRANCINE:
Maybe we should ask this guy what he pays.
DEREK:
I’m not asking him that! It’s personal.
FRANCINE:
You’re happy to get up on stage in front of a roomful of strangers and do a ten-minute routine about your sick fantasies about the Borg chick from Star Trek: Voyager, but you don’t want to ask someone how much rent they pay?
WINKLER:
(APPROACHING) Mr Weathers? We spoke on the telephone.
DEREK:
That’s right! Mr, uh..?
WINKLER:
Winkler.
DEREK:
Winkler, right, right. Like the Fonz. (WEAKLY) On that... old TV show.
WINKLER:
I know who the Fonz is.
DEREK:
’Course you do. I mean... who doesn’t know the Fonz?
WINKLER:
This lovely young lady is your wife?
DEREK:
She’s not my wife, she’s-
FRANCINE:
Francine. Francine Spinetti is who I am. Hi.
WINKLER:
Good afternoon. (PAUSE) So... you’re not married.
DEREK:
Is that a problem? Because... we could be married.
FRANCINE:
We couldn’t. We really couldn’t.
DEREK:
Well,
