Conventions: a slash (/) in a line indicates that the next line should start here. The actor speaking the first line would trail off where appropriate.
[SIMON drives very slowly up a standard Multi-Storey Car Park ramp. He taps his steering wheel in irritation. We zoom out to see that his car is in fact a component of a train, made of car simulacra, travelling through the (imaginary) MULTI-STOREY CAR PARK WORLD theme park. There is a recorded tour GUIDE VOICE, which sounds like E L Wisty, or perhaps John Major.]
GUIDE VOICE Welcome to Multi-Storey Car Park World, where dreams become concrete!
[The car passes up the ramp and turns. Cut to]
[Track with SIMON’s car. We pass by a set of gallic figures. They are apparently gesticulating wildly at a blackboard with the car park [P] symbol drawn on it, possibly tapping temples in “are you mad?”-mime. Several wear striped jerseys or berets.]
GUIDE VOICE It was in
the late 1920s that a plucky group of French ex-flying aces decided to open a
luxurious car-park in central
[We pass another copy of the same group. However, one of them now looks as though he has been goosed by a ghost. Two [P]s have been arrayed vertically on the board.]
GUIDE VOICE Then, one of the group had an idea! Could a car park be placed on top of a car park? If so, could the capacity of a normal car park be doubled? Many of the group were sceptical of such outlandish thinking.
[Next group. A bottle of
GUIDE VOICE But yet more daring ideas were to come. If a car park can be built on top of a car park ... then a car park can be built on top of a car park on top of a car park! This was the idea which was to set the world alight.
[Next group. All are now lying about in
attitudes of drunkenness, except one who is having a final “
GUIDE VOICE A helical ramp completed the story. The [appalling French accent] “parking royal” was born. At its gala opening in 1927, a grand-prix standard race was held there, although history does not relate which plucky daredevil won that particular contest. However, the owners had won a far more important race – the race to improve town-centre parking facilities forever!
[We move on to a ritzy group of pseudo-twenties-style industrialists and their wives and mistresses – spats, bob cuts, top hats.]
GUIDE VOICE Fulfilling
its owners’ ambitions, the sixth floor of the Banville Garage had a putting
green, three indoor tennis courts, a gymnasium, and a restaurant. It was a playground for the wealthiest
car-owners of
[We move on to three exceedingly boring-looking men in identical grey suits, looking fondly at a box.]
GUIDE VOICE It was this model that National Car Parks followed when designing their first building ....
[But the GUIDE VOICE is interrupted by a car-horn.]
[SIMON jumps. He realizes he has been daydreaming, and the traffic queue he was in is moving on.]
[DAVE and CHARLIE sit in cubicles. The office is pretty standard-issue, with just a hint of eighties retro horribleness. SIMON walks in from the right. He hangs his coat on a tree and walks past them.]
DAVE Hi, mate!
SIMON [abstracted] Oh, hi. Hi, Charlie!
CHARLIE Traffic again?
[SIMON looks disturbed at his recent fantasy.]
SIMON Something like that ... yeah.
[Pan left with SIMON as he walks down
the office. Sudden stop as the camera
reaches RUTLEDGE, a pompous, middle-aged middle manager whose dignity is
represented by his spectacular moustache, or so he believes. They are fortuitously in front of a clock
reading 0908, beneath which is a daily calendar on
RUTLEDGE Late again, Lander? What time do you call this?
SIMON Ten past ...
RUTLEDGE
SIMON [looking at
clock] Are you
sure it’s
[RUTLEDGE looks at the clock, which flips to 0909, then his watch, which he taps.]
RUTLEDGE Ruddy repair shop ... daylight robbery ....
SIMON Oh, and it’s Wednesday, sir.
[RUTLEDGE looks at SIMON in a vaguely accusatory manner. Wordlessly, they walk past each other; SIMON exits frame left, RUTLEDGE frame right.]