BEN GRAHAM stands at the kitchen in an ordinary way, chopping vegetables in an ordinary way. Tepid water sits in a pot on the stove and the sound of a tv quietly fills the background.

Upon examination, Ben’s life seems boring, solitary, simple. Not at all anything to look down upon. He humbly chops carrots perhaps musing to himself about memories or pictures he may have seen in some office waiting room somewhere.

The phone rings. Unknown caller.

BEN ceases his chopping.

But only for a moment.

BEN refocuses on his, perhaps daily, culinary practice. The phone continues to ring falling upon decidedly deaf ears until it falls into silence.

BEN continues chop chop chopping. The rhythm of his slices increasing two more beats per minute. He glances at his phone. It remains silent, not a chirp, not a bark. BEN relaxes a bit more.

“Wrong Number. Surely.” He may think to himself.

The phone rings again. The same unknown caller.

BEN drops his knife in panic and is taken only slightly aback. He is clearly shaken but quickly settles into resolute disappointment.

He takes a step towards his device. Fear advances.

BEN takes a moment and his indecision takes hold. The water begins to simmer. The phones continues to ring.

It seems BEN is going to answer; he makes those slight gestures towards it that would make you believe any sane person would going to answer a cellphone.

But in his advancement, right when his hand reaches out the phone becomes silent.

BEN breathes a minute - still holding the item in his gaze.

His demeanor just tinge below neutral. He turns away.

The phone rings again almost immediately as he turns his back. Not to his or anyone’s surprise, it is in fact the unknown number.

He only hesitates a moment then answers.

Silence.

Silence.

The line becomes scratchy and quiet. The TV playing seems to become louder.

Don’t do that.

BEN, distressed, turns the corner of his house grabs a TV remote and silences the TV.

The line becomes quiet again.

BEN fumbles with the screen. He goes for his glasses and puts them on, then continues eyeing the screen.

BEN apprehensively taps the screen, we begin to hear the voice clearly.

BEN is mistakenly overemphasizing and speaking loudly so he makes sure he is hear.

BEN thinks for a moment.

(Into the phone:) I did order that!

BEN looks around confused for a half-second.

A beat

BEN thinks.

BEN looks out his window with paranoia.

BEN eyes the window again. Then around him. Then his front door.

There is a pregnant pause.

More excruciating silence. BEN puts his phone down on the counter. His mind leaves him for a moment.

BEN becomes tense as all freakin heck. The water on the stove begins to boil.

As BEN says this he places his phone so it is held between his ear and his shoulder and goes to his chopped veggies.

BEN takes the cutting board and dumps the contents haphazardly causing hot water to splash on him. BEN muffles a yelp. He lids the pot.

BEN hurriedly tries to find something to dry off with and settles for an oven mitt.

BEN looks out the window of his driveway. Empty.

No response. BEN continues to stare out the window.

BEN continues to stare.

BEN ponders this for a moment feeling the fool only for a fleeting moment.

BEN stares out the window to the driveway again. Empty.

Silence.

No response.

Silence again. BEN begins to feel that all hope is lost. A void of confusion and fear only begins to tug at him.

BEN sees the van in the driveway.

BEN turns to face the door.

No response. BEN examines his front door from the safety of the window. BEN creeps forward. Slowly. Inching his way towards the knob or door window.

He stops in his tracks. Thinks for a moment. Looks to the boiling vegetables on the stove and opts for that.

BEN makes his way over to the stove phone now still in hand but with lost priority.

JIMMY voice rings from outside the door and from the phone simultaneously and is immediately followed by rapid knocking.

The combination of stimuli shocks BEN and causes him to drop his phone in the boiling veggie water.

Without hesitation BEN fishes his phone out of the scalding water. His reaction follows suit a scorching phone now dripping burning liquid down his mitts. He stifles his yelps and groans.

BEN answers the door and he is faced by JIMMY who’s face is decorated with wide eyes and a glib smile. JIMMY holds a clipboard.

BEN realizes he is still holding his wet phone.

He stutters a moment.

In place of a descriptor JIMMY makes a strange unreadable gesture.

BEN puts his warm moist phone in his pocket.

BEN takes the clipboard and begins to sign.

Then he stops.

BEN gives JIMMY a look of turgid disbelief and judgment.

**The scene now shifts into two simultaneous dialogues between alternate versions of our subjects. The two sections will be written out separately but will overlap.**

**Dialogue 1**

**Dialogue 2**

I’ll take that off your hands then.

BEN hands JIMMY the clipboard and they stand for a moment. An increasingly blank stare spreads across JIMMY’s face.

JIMMY turns to the truck and walks away from the door. He goes in the back of the truck. BEN sees the truck shuffle for a moment. JIMMY exits the truck empty-handed and walks right back to the spot he stood before in front of the doorway face to face with BEN.

BEN almost completely inconspicuously reels back.

JIMMY is already walking back to the truck.

JIMMY hops back inside the truck. BEN follows behind at his own pace then stands outside the bed of the truck. JIMMY looks at BEN. BEN looks back at him. JIMMY beckons BEN into the back of the truck. BEN is incredulous but hops into the back nonetheless.

They lift the box and what follows is a discoordinated effort to move this box out of the truck. There is bumping, readjusting, and twisting. After a few moments of struggle and stilted communication they manage the box out of the truck and begin walking it up to the doorway.

They reach the door and put down the package. JIMMY immediately saunters over to his truck, gets in, starts it up, and leaves.

BEN watches this departure.

CUT TO

BEN is in the house with pieces of the vacuum laid out before

Him. He sits on the floor with a bowl of boiled veggies at his side and prepackaged bag of jasmine rice with his phone sitting inside. He is palpably vexed by the process of building his new high-tech vacuum cleaner and the array of subjects before him.

He takes a piece of rice and meddles with it for a moment before throwing it.

The phone rings from inside the bag of rice.

“As if this situation could get any worse”, BEN’s face reads.

He takes the phone out of the bag and sees the Caller ID, JIM AMAZON.

BEN answers only after the slightest moment of hesitation.

BEN absentmindedly puts his hand in the bag of rice just for the sensation.

BEN looks out the window and the truck sits at the top of the driveway. JIMMY stands outside it looking in BEN’s direction. Too far to make out his face.

BEN is puzzled. He decidedly goes to the door and steps outside to look up his driveway. There is JIMMY clear as day but still a distance away.

The figure resembling JIMMY is slowly dropping his phone from his ear.

JIMMY’s voice rings clear from BEN’s receiver as if there was no change in his phone positioning. BEN stares in horror.

The figure begins to wave with its phone still at its side hanging in JIMMY’s now fully dropped arm.

BEN timidly waves back. Crackling noises come from his receiver now. The figure is still waving.

This phrase causes the hairs on BEN’s neck to stand up.

He does not want to.

BEN at a snail’s pace begins to take his phone from his ear and hold it in front of his face. Not meeting it with his eyes only focusing on the figure in the distance.

BEN looks at his phone, the screen is empty.

BEN looks back up, JIMMY is speeding away in the truck he was outside of a moment ago. He looks back down at his phone and a swirling of pink and red digital horror sweeps across the phone screen accompanied by a horrid technological squelching sound.

BEN’s eyes reel back in his head he quickly seizes out and falls to his death in his driveway.