This screenplay is based on a short story I published on Tildes some time ago. If you prefer, you can download the PDF here.

                    YOLK
                     by
                   mrbig

Until told otherwise:

BLACK AND WHITE.
SLOW MOTION.
SLOW AND BEAUTIFUL OPERA MUSIC

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

KITCHEN

HAND grabs the egg carton on the fridge. JAMES is 30, thin
and shirtless. Smells the eggs one by one. Stops. Smiles.

Water gushes from the faucet, foaming abundantly as it goes
down the drain.

BEDROOM

On the wall behind the bed, a painting of two lovers with
their heads individually wrapped in sheets. They kiss, but
they're mouths do not touch. ALICE, 30, dark hair, black silk
nightdress, sleeps. SOUND OF SOMETHING BEING FRIED. She wakes
up.

KITCHEN

James breaks the eggshell, getting his hand dirty. Licks his
fingers. Behind him, Alice is watching. Gently throws the egg
in the frying pan.

THE EGG SIZZLING

James sprinkles salt and pepper. Manipulates the frying pan
with skill, throws the egg up in the air and catches it in a
precise and continuous movement. Extinguish the fire and look
back to see

COLOR. NORMAL SPEED. OPERA MUSIC STOPS.

Alice with the eyes fixed on the stove.

                    ALICE
          Look.

Points at the egg.

                    JAMES
          What?

                    ALICE
          Can't you see?

                    JAMES
          Has it gone bad?

She takes a deep breath.

                    ALICE
          I noticed the way you broke the
          shell, but I needed to confirm. Can
          you see how the yolk is soft yet
          whole, with a small cut in the
          lower portion slowly leaking a
          yellow thread at a regular pace?

                    JAMES
          Yes...

                    ALICE
          Don’t you get it?

                    JAMES
          No.

                    ALICE
          When the yolk leaks like that, it
          can only mean two things.

She hesitates.

                    ALICE
          You’re either going to murder me...

                    JAMES
          What you’re talking about?

                    ALICE
          Or you’ll get a Ph.D. in Physics.

                    JAMES
          You’re kidding, right?

                    ALICE
          Nope.

HIS EYES

HER EYES

                    ALICE
          The egg doesn't lie.

He sits by the table.

                    JAMES
          I could just choke you.

She sits near him, smiling. Leads James' hands to her own
neck, and make him hold it.

                    JAMES
          That's easier.

He caress Alice's neck.

                    JAMES
          I never thought about that before,
          but maybe, precisely because I love
          you, precisely because I want you,
          maybe I should exterminate you.

Retracts his hands.

                    JAMES
          Or maybe I don't love you enough.

                    ALICE
          The egg...

                    JAMES
          I know, it doesn't lie. Then why
          are you still here?

                    ALICE
          Makes no difference.

He stands up and looks at the egg on the stove. Cleans his
throat.

                    JAMES
          Honey?

                    ALICE
          Yeah, babe.

He opens a drawer and pauses for a second. Closes.

                    JAMES
          I’m terrible at physics.

James holds a butcher's knife with a confused expression on
his face.

OPERA MUSIC RETURNS

THE END