Prisoner’s Dilemma, Pt. 1

Taking a break from the novel for a little bit because I have something else I’m working on. For reasons. Anyway, here’s a look at that!


A MAN is tied to a cheap metal folding chair. Rope restrains his legs and his chest, and his hands are tied behind his back. There is a pillowcase over his head serving as a hood, and he is breathing fast.

The camera zooms in and a HAND descends and roughly pulls the pillowcase from the man’s head revealing JIMMY, a young man on the cusp of his twenties. He has a black eye, bruises, the signs of having been on the losing side of a bar fight.

The hand returns to the frame, and slaps Jimmy across the face. The goal isn’t to injure him, just to get his attention.


Alright, kid. Let’s talk.

An OLDER MAN sits back in a cheap metal chair just like the kind Jimmy is tied to. This is the Grey Man, named for his weathered face, his silver hair, his neatly clipped beard. He is otherwise unremarkable, save for having a sense of class and style that stands in stark contrast to Jimmy’s own attire.


Can I get you anything? Food? Water? A drink?


That was a joke.


Never mind. Forget it. Let’s just get down to business, shall we? I want you to tell me everything you know about Francisco Melendez’s operation. Producers, suppliers, lieutenants, who’s laundering the money, who’s frotning the money, where the stash houses are at. Anything. Everything. Even if you think it isn’t important, I want to hear it. Do you understand?

Jimmy swells with defiance, as much as he’s able to given how tied up he is.


I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. I don’t know nothing.


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