Confession Day comes but once a year for a small southern family, but once too often for an abusive husband and father with a secret weakness.
Homespun stories with colorful characters. That’s what made Mark Twain so great. That and a heaping serving of sarcastic wit. (The Southern drawls were the icing on the cake.)
Well, Mark’s been gone for quite some time, and the world’s moved onto other things. Tarantino-esque crime stories. Gross out comedies. Torture porn. But every once in awhile one gets a hankerin’… for a good ole fashioned yarn. One where you can practically hear the picturesque crickets chirping in the yard. And Mark Twain snickering from his grave….
Fortunately, there are still scripts that serve up such fare. STS presents: The Confession.
A simple story, The Confession opens in church… the town gathered for a funeral service. The dear departed is Dwight Plickens, 45. Though we’re being somewhat charitable by calling him “dear”. As church attendees shoots the breeze, a clear picture of Dwight emerges. One that’s not so generous. An older guy married to a sweet young thang, and short on social graces. His greatest talent, according to the crowd? Inhaling a whole chicken in one serving. Leg, wings, bones and all.
And speaking of bones…. The rumor is one did him in. Yep, he choked on the gall-darned thing at the kitchen table. A doggone shame. What a tragedy.
The service starts. Church bells ring. Young widow Katie trails the casket, accompanied by ten year old son Tate. Their appearance causes more buzz among the assembled. They’re both dry-eyed. Not a single tear.
After the service, Katie pulls the Reverend aside. It’s been awhile since her last confession, and she wants to get a few things off her chest. The Reverend agrees. After all, there’s plenty of time before the burial. And where’s the harm in a few words? But secrets run deep in certain Southern communities. And Katie’s confession’s a real doozy…
Indie directors, prick up your ears. Confession’s a cool breeze on a hot day. A script with charm if there ever was one. Memorable characters. Wry humor. All you need bring is lemonade…
About the writer: Zack Zupke is a writer in Los Angeles. He can be contacted via email at zzupke “AT” yahoo
Budget: Relatively low. A church. A casket. One home scene. And some actors with great dialogue delivery.
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