Upon the shy of a beach lay an ideal camping space — a break between the bushes that offers flat grass land, firweood, and the opening to an untouched beach. Three travellers have pitched their tent. It is late, early hours of the morning so to speak and two of the three have settled into their tent.

The one character that is left remaining is chilling out on his towel at the foot of the tent. Listening to music through his ear phones looking out at the sea, but is noticeably keeping an eye out on the path that crosses the tent. He is nervous and scared.
He unplugs his ear phones to listen out for his friends, wanting them to be awake and chatty to console his weariness… but they are fast asleep. And he is alone.

The frequency of his view switching from the beach to the path boils and he unplugs his ear phones yet again. He listens out for anything unusual which could be a variety of things in this breezy coast. In this tangle of anxiety he notices a boat emerge from the horizon. It looks beautiful in the glowing dark sea- almost as if one of those concludeless stars were released from the sky and nestled onto the sea bed.

The character jumps to his feet and stares at the boat zip ever so slowly from ear to ear of the horizon. The boat is about half way and some branches are threatening to elude his view.

The character doesn't think twice to jump down from the patch of green, onto the un-trampelled sandy beach and see the boat off.

The opposing side of the horizon where the boat is heading toward is dominated by luminous city lights that complete a divine night sky.

The character looks back to his silhouetted tent area that is over towered with threatening opaque branches. It remains still, dead calm. So he plugs his music back in and blasts it up. The boat now is almost due to collide with the city and engulf into the mysterious shadowy un-measurable shadows.

The character now who feels more settled and less alert casually turns to take a look at his tent… the tent is nowhere to be seen as though it was a before & after photo. From the far side of the bushes that resemble a bunched island silhouette the psycho killer emerges walking rapid and unevenly, spitting out sand from under his boots. The character falls over himself, picks himself up in a flash. The psycho killer is astonishingly close in that blink of sight. The killer's mask is deep breathalized and hot headed, compressing his fuming breath and psycho starethrough two eye holes. The character mumbles and then screams, barely making sense:

"Fuckin’ (panting breaths) Whaaaat?!"

The psycho killer launches a rock that concks off of the character's head knocking a sickening blow, the character is blurred in blood, sweat, fear, half conscious with his body standing half over himself. The psycho savagely follows up by diving a knife into the character’s ribs. Their bodies pressed together, the psycho uses his weight to guide the character to the ground. The psycho sits on the character’s chest and reaches for a rock, and takes one in his clasp...he is unhappy with the rock the beach had gave him and so he reaches for another. Unimpressed again he throws the rock away and skims around for the rock he used for the initial blow, his hand meets the sticky rock. The psycho wraps his hand around it and then proceeds to crack the character’s skull gorilla-like.

The unrecognisable victim is left a rock's throw from the tent and is flattened with alarming human limb bumps bulging from irregular proportions and drowning in pools of blood like a road-kill.

“Do we have to listen to this shit Leonard?” After two years, it doesn’t take much for Paisley to snap at Leonard. And a vacation away from their lives is no exception; Leonard’s music collection is a clone of his character — in that nothing new is entered to “mix-it-up”. Paisley hasn’t had a thrill in years; however, she is complacent with Leonard… In order to be your ideal self, one must have his surroundings act accordingly.

Without compromise, Paisley forces the FM button with such slow-momentum she pushes herself back into an upright position in the passenger seat. And Leonard’s soul connection is yanked apart- abruptly disrupted by the local radio station. Paisley then abused Leonard’s presence as there was a spasmodic diversion of body language from the situation inside the car to the window view. Leonard is waiting for Paisley to apologise… first sucking his teeth, then his gums, then his lips, if Paisley would take a look at Leonard right now she would see half of his face vacuumed. Paisley however doesn’t search, to her Leonard will always be that ever-lasting first impression- the first impression that Leonard has worked strenuously to maintain. The further the apology drifts away the deeper the rage sinks through the tissue and burns into his stomach. And once it is in the stomach you can either be sick- get it all out… or you can take a trip to a bathroom or a remote place and well do your business, however this way is only productive if you have something to wipe-up with.

Paisley and Leonard arrive at their first holiday spot in two years- the cabin that Leonard had rented online is far from civilization… this may work to Leonard’s advantage, because if expectation and reality align in the course of this trip- Leonard & Paisley’s sex life would be spiced and ready to put on rice.

The Cabin is as much as you could ask for- the living area rests on the shoulder of the entrance. The living area consists of a television set that stands over a homely three seated green sofa- the tail end of the sofa teases the bar that works as a divide between the kitchen and living room. The opposite wall that hangs the Television set offers a different direction at the foot of the kitchen, with a beaded arched door way that resides to the bedroom… again the bedroom is as much as you could ask for everything is gravitated around the king double bed which acts as a centre stage to the room.

The droned- chilling sound of the vacuum relaxes and unwinds Leonard he takes the weight off of himself and is caught by the absorbing mattress. Paisley seethes with every stroke of the vacuum- she turns to pass the weight of her irritation onto Leonard dropping the vacuum by her side and standing over him she argues “Gosh this place is so dirty- and we paid how much?” Leonard rolls over and meets Paisley’s eyes, he pauses before flashing a glazed look to indicate a rush of lust has come over him… Paisley doesn’t pick up on it- but realises Leonard is trying to tell her something, so she just stands there in awe.

Leonard propels himself forward and reaches for the vacuum. He takes it by the snorkel and presses it to Paisley’s crotch. In devilish anguish Leonard’s excitement triggers him to jerk the vacuum in a circular motion, convinced that he is seducing her. However this rush of lust is snipped as Leonard looks up- hoping to see the passive face his expectation had projected, he is struck with a disgruntled woman staring back at him.

“What the fuck?”

In a ball of hesitation and confusion Leonard drags whatever words he can out of his mouth. “Oh urmm, sorry urrmm… I thought it would be romantic...”

“Romantic? On what fucking planet?”

“Look, can we just make love and not argue?”

“Fine — but don’t think I’m just going to forget that shit.”

“Okay we’ll talk about it later. Come here.”

Paisley approaches Leonard with little enthusiasm, which strains Leonard’s energy… they make love timidly.

“I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“Want me to join you?”

“No, I think I just want a quiet one- jump in after, I’m really quite tired.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll only be a minute and then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay.”

“Everything okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“Well, okay then.”

Leonard walks into the bathroom and becomes engulfed by the steam, locking the door behind him he then turns to the saturated mirror. Hunched over the sink he stares aimlessly, the warm moist floats through his body. He places his index finger on the mirror, and carves the words- “nobody knows me” he pauses and then resumes with concluding- “not even me”.