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Burning Cigarettes

by JD Glasscock 3 months ago in art

My Directorial Debut 8 Years ago - Warning Rated R Short Film -- Includes script below

The actual script I wrote to my award winning first short film and directorial debut way back when

Burning Cigarettes

Short Film


JD Glasscock

All Rights Reserved


A close up on a burning cigarette in an ashtray, heavy noir lighting, going up to a woman in a black slip, one strap, down, alot of one breast hanging out, her looking in a mirror. SHe picks up the cigarette and takes a long inhale, camera zooms on burning. She puts it back down, her one hand cupping her breast, massaging it. SHe looks worn, tired, no makeup. Looking in the mirror


You're the bruise, the slut, the lady, the addiction.

She pulls strap back up, leans into mirror, tilting her head. She has a bruise on her eye and on her arms. A man comes in, wearing old school dress shirt and tie, tie loosened, half shved look. He sees her and sighs, putting a briefcase down, a bottle in a brown bag he tilts to his lips.


Beautiful Russian Rhoulette, Home Sweet Home(Sarcastic, tired)

She sees him in mirror with a look of digust.


Looks like the mutt found his way back to the womb.


Don't start with me(Drinks)


What, you run out of money for your whores?(Still watching him in mirror)

She picks up cigarette again, again a watch of cigarette burning but slightly wider with man out of focus behind her. SHe puts in back down. She massages her breast again slowly. He is looking at her with hunger and anger. SHe reaches back rubbing her thigh slowly, pushing her slip up, showing part of her ass, the camera shooting behind her seeing his reaction in mirror, him touching his crotch.


Whores don't have your mouth. They stay quiet.

She smiles.


You're right. They don't have my mouth, or my ass, or my titts.

He looks on in hunger. She smiles, the camera catches them all from below looking over the burning cigarette into the mirror.


You're a rat looking for cheese, a shadow without the meat.

His anger grows. She slides her hand out of camera down between her thighs.


Do you leave them wanting like you do me? DO they end up in the gutter drinking piss rain to get off after you leave their swamp?

His hand is now on his crotch watching her hand between her thighs.


That god damn mouth of yours is gonna crap shoot some more bruises on that scarred flesh. You never fucking learn. Is Sweet Tooth the angle you wanting?(eyes a beat up old cane) Is that the stone you begging for?

She smiles bringing her hand from between her thighs, slowly licking her fingers.


I am the bruise, the goddess, the drug, the vein. I'm the nectar(Licking) I'm the lie. I'm the whore and the womb. You, your the nothing everyone needs and noone wants. Your the emptiness always looking to get fed.

The man throws the bottle cracking against the wall and rushes her, slamming her against the dresser, mirror. He grabs her throat from behind, ripping her slip up.


Your god damn mouth, always your god damn mouth. It never fucking stops. You know what you are? A god damn beast of a fucking merry go round.

His hand slides around between her thighs, then drops his pants. SHe smiles and laughs. The shot has moved up the smoke filtering through camera.


That's it... SHow me your candy. Show me how worthless you are.

He looks at her stopping his pants half down, her one breast falling out. He looks confused, angry, sad.


When did love become a corpse?

She turns on him and slaps him, grabs his hair, kisses him hard then throws him on bed. SHe almost rips her slip off, shot still in mirror. and her body is covered in bruises. SHe straddles him, shot moves to her from low angle on bed. SHe reaches down grabbibg his cock and slipping it in.(we dont see this just her hand going down off camera)


Love turned into fucking and whores and gutters and sad songs. ( SHe slaps him again as she starts riding him) It turned into burning cigarettes and broken bottles. Now quiet. Show me your emptiness.

She starts riding him hard. She starts choking him.


It's the only worth you have.

Camera slides down into his eyes, his fear, burning embers, then pulls out slightly back to the burning end of a cigarette with them in mirror, her moving up and down, out of focus

Extra Poems

Eternity's Sleep –

Poem by JD Glasscock

Pulling petals to make a wreath to the fae.....weaving starlight....drop skipping stones across ripples of water....my hand is archaic rune spilling forth wisdom in dark corners....trembling spirit in the aftermath of brilliance.....I am tomb.....a forlorn memory of a womb....a storyteller telling fables in the shade wrapped prelude of inevitability...I am sleep in the tilting of eyes half lidded....a lucid moment in the pull of eternity......wake me......my limbs are cement striven paint brushes lacking color.....a reap of humanity in the crumbling precipice of ideals....I am strand of filaments seeking purchase...I am...I am.......lost.....mud and a sinner's weeping.....swallowing me.

Juggling Jacks Joyfully Jubilate(One of the first performance poems I wrote 25 plus years ago)

Poem by JD Glasscock

Follow the old man to the back

World of fright

Shadow of a wounded one-eyed jack

Dark dog fight, night,

Mellow mad man shows

The sight, light

Mucky mucky muddy infants

Shoot the shit in the pool hall

Head hits against the brick

Back flips off the wall

Follow the old man to the back

Torment, a thousand whip marks

On your

Blue bloody bruised back

Mother mama witches

Choke the rhyme

Mother mama witches

Fuck the mime

Insanity so so kind

Baby bird’s breath

Child’s mind

Mother mama witches

Suck the vine/wine

Old man smiles at the end of time

Dagger teeth flash from

A wounded one-eyed jack

Follow the bugle boy to the back

Give the golden ticket to the man in black

A chance to watch the choir girls

Twirl, twirl, twirl

From that infamous torture rack

Drug induced nightmares

Holes in veins you don’t want to show

Mellow mind attack

Follow the humble hermit in the back

Old man smiles at the end of time

Eternal mime jester throwing tokens

Of rhyme to the blind

Joyful jubilations

Shadow of a wounded one-eyed jack

A hand forever in the emerald sack

An apple to the mouth

A membership in the ugly scar faced rat pack

Shadow of a wounded one-eyed jack

Old man smiles at the end of time

Mother mama witches fuck/suck the mind

Old man eats them at the end of time

So only one chance

A query to unravel the riddled rueful rune rhyme

Butterflies finish the story from burnt out shells

Little Boy Blue licks Little Miss Muffet in

The midnight moon tales, swells, smells

Metaphoric misinformed card players

Finish cigars and fold their hands

Silver Lady shivers and smirks

Gambling Man makes rings of smoke

The One Eyed Jack jumps through

And takes a toke

Stroke, stroke, stroke


JD Glasscock
JD Glasscock
Read next: I See You
JD Glasscock

J.D. Glasscock started as a slam poet on national teams in 1990. Written and Directed 16 Award winning short films...He also has 16 self published books of poetry, lyrics and film.

Owner of StormCrow Productions

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