THE INTERROGATION CHAMBER

VOL. I
Written by
Toby Edward Hickman
INT. INTERROGATION CHAMBER
It is completely black.
A single lamp flickers on, the clicks echoing around the
chamber. Everything is concrete, there are no windows.
A MAN WITH A HUGE BEARD and a turban sits at a metal table,
his head down and his hands chained. He looks tired and his
white clothes are dirtied and torn. He appears to be from
somewhere in the Middle East and is in his fifties, but looks
older.
The rooms only door opens. A suited man enters, his footsteps
rattling off all the hard surfaces. The door clunks closed
behind him, heavily, and he strides towards the man at the
table, who looks up. The suited man stares at the prisoner,
before turning around and leaving, the door opening and
closing for him again.
The suited man returns again, with two AGENTS wearing dark
glasses and ear pieces behind him, at either end of a long,
tall object on wheels and covered in a plain white sheet.
They move the object to a corner of the room and stand at
either end of it, facing the prisoner with their arms behind
their backs, motionless and silent.
The suited man reads from a clipboard, with an obvious
American accent. He sounds as if he could be from Texas. He
is apparently some sort of INTERROGATOR
INTERROGATOR
Are you Osama bin Mohammed bin Awad
bin Laden, commonly reffered to as
simply Osama bin Laden?
There is an intense pause before the prisoner speaks,
gruffly.
BIN LADEN
I am.
He speaks with a heavy Arabic accent.
INTERROGATOR
Are the Osama bin Laden formerly of
Saudi Arabian nationality but are
now considered stateless due to
your affiliation and alleged
leadership of global militant
Islamist organasation al-Quida?
BIN LADEN
I am.
INTERROGATOR
Very well. We have discussed your
release with your people. We have
agreed on the conditions.
There is another pause.
BIN LADEN
What are these... conditions?
INTERROGATOR
We will challenge you. If you pass
our test, you will be free. Should
you fail, you will be further
detained and interrogated until you
reveal to us the plans of the
attack you advertised to the world
on the evening of June 24th of this
year. Do you understand?
BIN LADEN
I... understand. What is this test?
The suited man gestures to the two agents in the background,
who remove the tarpaulin from the intimidating apparatus.
It consists of a platform with three long, metal rods rising
out of it, in a row roughly a metre apart, in front of a
brightly-painted background, each with a large, brown coconut
in a holder on top.
INTERROGATOR
A coconut shy.
Bin Laden looks fearful. He has heard stories of the dreaded
coconut shies across the West, seemingly unbeatable physical
tests of dexterity and endurance.
BIN LADEN
A coconut shy?
INTERROGATOR
That is correct.
There is another pause while the prisoner thinks to himself.
BIN LADEN
Very well. I accept the terms of
this challenge.
INTERROGATOR
Excellent.
He gestures again to one of his cronies, who steps forward
with a key and unlocks bin Ladens hancuffs and anklets.
He stands, rubbing his wrists, looking anxious, and the
interrogator hands him a small, red ball.
2.
INTERROGATOR (CONTD)
You have five balls. You may begin.
Bin Laden steps towards the shy, ball in hand, and visibly
worried. He strikes a pose and weakly lobs a ball at the
centre coconut. It misses. The interrogator hands him another
ball.
He throws it; this time slightly more confidently. It misses
and the agent hands him another ball.
Looking determined, knowing his entire agenda is at stake,
bin Laden throws another ball, this time brushing past the
wiry hairs of the left coconut.
With newfound confidence, he lobs another ball at the same
target, this time just catching the top, but not enough to
unsteady the great nut.
Osama takes his last ball, and gathers all the strength and
determination he has in his body. Pitching like a Major
League baseball player, smacks the tiny red orb right into
the centre of the coconut, which stays tight in its perch.
BIN LADEN
FUCK! FUCK YOU, FILTHY AMERICAN
PIG, I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!
Without hesitation, the two agents grab Osama by the arms,
and drag him, shouting and struggling, from the chamber, his
legs dragging along the floor as he tries to fight away.
BIN LADEN (CONTD)
ITS FIXED! I TELL YOU ITS FIXED!
IVE BEEN CHEATED! IT WAS FIXED!
The interrogator, ever expressionless, follows them out, and
the door closes behind him once more.
The light clicks off, and the room is completely black once
again.
FIN
3.