It Is Certain - Script (2020)
Based on the idiom "Nothing is certain but death and taxes"

EXT. NON-SPECIFIC STREET - DAY
Establishing shot of a suburban street, a plain suburban house. Rossini’s William Tell Overture is made even more cheesy with Disney-style BIRD CHIRPS. It just makes you want to throw up.

INT. HOME ENTRY - CONTINUOUS
A boring door that matches the plain suburban house, it is all very underwhelming.

We hear the doorbell RING and FOOTSTEPS approach the door.

The door opens to reveal a rigid, stern-faced ATO OFFICER.
 

OFFICER
Good morning.

The officer holds their hand out.
 

OFFICER (CONT'D)
John Sow from the Tax Office!

Their hand is not received. Un-phased, they put it back down.
 

OFFICER (CONT'D)
May I come in then?

DEATH
Uh... do we really have to do this?

OFFICER
Considering you’ve never once been audited before, yes.

An unimpressed DEATH, SCYTHE in hand, stands aside for the officer to enter.

INT. HOME - LATER
The ATO Officer sits at a table with PILES OF PAPERWORK, looking through a small LEDGER whilst writing notes in their own NOTEBOOK.

Death sits opposite with small BOXES and PILES OF RECEIPTS in front of them.

 

The SCYTHE is leaning against the chair beside Death.

OFFICER
Page 12 I am finding certain items questionable! For the 14th of November you have claimed the entire tribe of Sentinelese people in the Bay of Bengal in India?

Ah, fond memories!

DEATH
I thought John Allen was going to die in a mugging-gone-wrong. Who would have thought he’d get eaten by cannibals.

The Officer glares suspiciously at Death then looks back at the paperwork.

DEATH (CONT'D)
Hey, would you like something to drink? I have some freshly brewed molten lava or I could wrangle up some battery acid if you prefer.

OFFICER
(bluntly)
I’m fine. And the scythe? You insist it’s 100% for work purposes.

DEATH
(trying to crack a joke to lighten the mood)
Well sometimes I reconsider when my neighbour’s dog poops on my lawn.

(a beat)
Yes... 100%.
(another beat)
So no to the acid then? What about a cockroach cookie, freshly baked this morning!

OFFICER
Are you trying to offer me a bribe?

DEATH
No, not at all! I just-

OFFICER
Look, I’m sick and tired of all you supernaturals trying to get away with not paying your taxes properly, you’re as bad if not worse than politicians!

DEATH
Oh I’m not trying-

OFFICER
See here, you claimed eight hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars on clothing for work. Why so much?

Death rubs a furrowed brow.

DEATH
Because it’s impossible to get blood and faecal matter out of my robes!

OFFICER
Have you tried using club soda?

DEATH
Yeah of course, after all I am a professional, and I’ve been doing this job for literally ever. Club soda only works if I can get onto it straight away and most of the time I’m rushing from job to job.

OFFICER
So your answer is to throw away your clothing?

That is wasteful and unnecessary. Without receipts I’ll give you the maximum claimable amount of $300.

The Officer scribbles the changes in the ledger.

OFFICER (CONT'D)
And these: one piano, four peanut M&Ms, five crocodiles, one trampoline and some TNT?

DEATH
Yeah, what’s the problem with that?

OFFICER
This is real life, not some kind of Looney Tunes movie!

The officer crosses things out in the ledger.

OFFICER (CONT'D)
I can’t stand these people you deal with, dying in such stupid ways and costing tax payer dollars.

And then there’s your type, all of you being so careless because you’re immortal. And you get people like my sister who is a hardworking single mother, and she gets cancer!
Doctors give her 12 months to live and when she dies I’ll get lumped with her bratty twin kids!

DEATH
Whoa, whoa, whoa hang on, who’s your sister?

OFFICER
Allison Sow.

DEATH
Hmmm, give me one minute!

Death pulls out his MOBILE from his pocket and flicks through it.

DEATH (CONT'D)
Allison Sow you say? Allison Sow of Mildura, born 19th March!

OFFICER
Yes that’s her!

DEATH
OK look, how about I make you a deal. If you leave my taxes alone, I’ll forget all about Allison for an extra 5 years, that makes her 30. How’s that?

OFFICER
The twins will only be 10!

DEATH
35?

OFFICER
I am NOT taking in two pubescent teenagers!

DEATH
Fine, 40, but that’s my final offer.

OFFICER
(considers for a moment)
Deal!

 

Death and the Officer shake hands.

The Officer drops dead.

Death looks at his hand.

DEATH
Ah that’s right! Now why didn’t I just think of that earlier?

The doorbell CHIMES.

DEATH (CONT'D)
Hmm who can that be?

INT. HOME ENTRY - CONTINUOUS
Death opens the door to a DOOR-TO-DOOR PREACHER holding up a BIBLE, a huge sickeningly-sweet smile on their face.

PREACHER
Good afternoon, do you have time for our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?

DEATH
The question should be: does he have time for me! To be honest, I think he’s ghosted me.

PREACHER
God would never leave you. He loves us all, and I personally can’t wait to meet him.

DEATH
Really? Well come on in then.

Death stands aside, the Preacher enters and the door closes.