Some creative writing. I hope you enjoy
TRUNK (a short story by Michael Fuller)
A story told by the guy in the trunk.
Most people only get one scene.
You know the kind.
A pair of hands. A struggle. A punch. Darkness.
Then the trunk slams shut.
The audience never learns our names.
We’re the disposable characters.
The kidnapped witness.
The unlucky accountant.
The security guard who saw too much.
The henchman who failed the boss one too many times.
I’ve been all of them.
Not literally, of course.
But every time a writer needs someone in a trunk, they create a guy like me.
We exist for one purpose: to make the hero look determined or the villain look dangerous.
Then we’re forgotten.
The strange thing about being a trunk guy is that you have a lot of time to think.
The hero is usually driving somewhere dramatic.
The villain is usually making threats.
Meanwhile, I’m bouncing around between a spare tire and a jack handle, wondering why nobody asks what I think about the plot.
I have opinions.
For example, if you’re a henchman working for an evil mastermind, maybe don’t take the job that includes a dental plan described as “survive until Friday.”
And if you’re a victim, maybe don’t investigate abandoned warehouses at midnight.
You’d think people would learn.
They never do.
I know because I’ve been in thousands of trunks.
Different stories. Same trunk.
One week I’m a mob enforcer.
The next week I’m a journalist.
Sometimes I’m tied up.
Sometimes I’m unconscious.
Once I was a professional assassin who somehow got defeated by a retired librarian with a garden rake.
That one still bothers me.
But this time feels different.
This time I can hear the audience.
They’re waiting for the hero to open the trunk.
They expect the usual scene.
The lid lifts.
Light pours in.
The hero asks questions.
I give information.
Then I disappear from the story forever.
But I’ve decided I don’t want one scene anymore.
I want a life.
I want a name.
I want hobbies.
Maybe I collect comic books.
Maybe I draw caricatures at county fairs.
Maybe I have a wife who worries when I’m late.
Maybe I have a dog that loses its mind every time I come home.
The audience doesn’t know.
The writers never asked.
The car slows.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires.
We’re here.
The moment has arrived.
The trunk pops open.
Bright sunlight blinds me.
The hero stares down.
“Who are you?” he asks.
It’s the first time anyone has ever asked.
I smile.
“My friend,” I say, climbing out of the trunk, “that’s the first interesting question anybody has asked me in twenty years.”
And for the first time in cinematic history…
The story finally begins after the trunk opens.
SMASH CUT TO:
A production office.
A long conference table.
Concept art on the walls.
Coffee cups everywhere.
A producer flips through the script.
A director sits calmly at the far end.
Silence.
Then—
DIRECTOR
(matter-of-fact)
“Michael Fassbender.”
The producer looks up.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
(confused)
“I’m sorry, what?”
DIRECTOR
(even more direct)
“You heard me. Michael Fassbender.”
The producer slowly lowers the script.
A look of concern crosses his face.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
(already knowing, but afraid of the answer)
“For what?”
The director leans forward.
DIRECTOR
“I am casting him as the guy in the trunk.”
Silence.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“The hero?”
DIRECTOR
“No.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“The villain?”
DIRECTOR
“No.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“The mysterious government agent?”
DIRECTOR
“No.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“The guy in the trunk?”
DIRECTOR
“The guy in the trunk.”
The producer rubs his temples.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“Michael Fassbender is one of the finest actors working today.”
DIRECTOR
“Exactly.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“He’ll be in the trunk for the first thirty minutes.”
DIRECTOR
“Correct.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“We won’t even see his face.”
DIRECTOR
“Not once.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“We’ll just hear him rattling around back there?”
DIRECTOR
“Like an existential maraca.”
The producer stares.
A long pause.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“He’s f***ing Magneto, for Christ’s sake.”
DIRECTOR
“Formerly.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“What?”
DIRECTOR
“Now he’s Trunk Guy.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“Trunk Guy isn’t even a character name.”
DIRECTOR
“That’s the tragedy.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“You want an Academy Award-nominated actor to spend half the movie locked inside a Buick?”
DIRECTOR
“Not a Buick.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“…”
DIRECTOR
“A Cadillac.”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“Well thank God. That changes everything.”
The director taps the script.
DIRECTOR
“What’s insane is that audiences have watched thousands of stories about heroes, villains, spies, assassins, and detectives…”
He taps the title page.
TRUNK
DIRECTOR
“…and nobody ever asks what happened to the poor guy in the trunk.”
The producer looks down.
Thinks about it.
Then sighs.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“You know what?”
DIRECTOR
“What?”
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“I kind of want to know.”
DIRECTOR
“Exactly.”
CUT BACK TO THE STORY
The trunk creaks open.
Sunlight floods in.
For the first time in the entire film, we finally see the face of the man we’ve been listening to.
The camera slowly pushes in.
The audience expects a character actor.
Maybe a familiar face from three episodes of a crime drama.
Maybe a guy whose IMDb page includes “Man 2"
Instead—
It’s Michael Fassbender.
Not hiding.
Not disguised.
Not de-aged.
Not made up to look ordinary.
Just unmistakably Michael Fassbender.
The camera keeps pushing in.
Closer.
Closer.
Now we’re at the kind of close-up usually reserved for Oscar speeches, emotional breakdowns, or discovering the location of a nuclear device.
He stares directly into the camera.
Not past it.
Into it.
Breaking every rule.
A beat.
Then another.
Finally—
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“That’s right.”
A tiny nod.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“Michael f***ing Fassbender.”
Another beat.
The audience can practically hear the collective confusion spreading through the theater.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“The guy in the trunk.”
Silence.
Then he points directly at the camera.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“You thought I was the villain.”
A shrug.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“I thought I was the villain.”
Another shrug.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“My agent thought I was the villain.”
He leans in.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“Halfway through production, the studio thought I was the villain.”
A pause.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“But no.”
He gestures toward the open trunk behind him.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“I’m Trunk Guy.”
The hero steps into frame.
Trying desperately to continue the movie.
HERO
“We need to go. There’s no time—”
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“See? That’s exactly the problem.”
The hero freezes.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“Nobody ever asks how Trunk Guy is doing.”
HERO
“The city is about to explode.”
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“I’ve been folded into a luggage compartment for three hours.”
HERO
“We have to stop the villain!”
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“I think I pulled a hamstring.”
The hero looks helplessly toward the camera.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“And another thing…”
He takes a step forward.
The dramatic score fades.
The camera tightens even more.
Now we’re at an absurdly intimate close-up.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“Do you have any idea how many people end up in trunks every year in movies?”
A beat.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“No, because nobody counts.”
A longer beat.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“Nobody remembers.”
His expression softens.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“But tonight…”
A faint smile.
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“…the guy in the trunk gets top billing.”
TITLE CARD
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
IS
THE GUY IN THE TRUNK
A distant voice echoes from somewhere off-screen.
PRODUCER / SHOWRUNNER
“For the last time, that’s not his name!”
MICHAEL FASSBENDER
“It is now.”
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Some creative writing. I hope you enjoy
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