INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S BEDROOM
Bridget is lying in bed as the alarm bleeps with '7:00' flashing. The curtains are drawn. She is clearly hungover and is still in her pyjamas with her hair in a topknot. She hits the top of the alarm to turn it off and sits up, rubbing her eyes and then peeking out of the curtains before shielding her eyes from the sunlight.
BRIDGET
SHIT. BLOODY HELL. OH BLOODY SHIT HELL.
She tries once more to look out of the window but the light is too bright for her in this state. She tentatively stands up and shuffles into the bathroom.
INT. BRIDGET'S BATHROOM
Bridget sits on the toilet while brushing her teeth. She starts to nod off but blinks herself awake again
BRIDGET
OH BOLLOCKS. OH POO. OH SHIT BOLLOCKS.
INT. BRIDGET'S KITCHEN
Bridget sits at her small table, eating cereal. Pan out to reveal she has poured the milk into the cereal box. The phone rings and she ignores it.
GARETH (ANSWERING MACHINE MESSAGE)
HI BRIDGET, IT'S GARETH HERE. JUST WANTED TO SAY THANKS FOR LAST NIGHT AND, ER, SORRY ABOUT YOUR FRONT DOOR.
Bridget looks up from the cereal box.
BRIDGET
MY FRONT DOOR?!
INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S STAIRS
Bridget runs down the stairs
EXT SHOT. BRIDGET'S HOUSE
The front door is missing and we can see right into bridget's house as she comes down the stairs, which are covered in random bits of rubbish. She slows down as she reaches the bottom and sits on the bottom step. A man with a briefcase walks past and turns his head to look at bridget's house. Bridget gives a sheepish wave and a forced smile.
BRIDGET V.O.
OH DEAR. WELL I SUPPOSE THAT'S WHAT I GET FOR INVITING THE ENTIRE OFFICE ROUND FOR A PARTY IN MY TEENY TINY HOUSE.. SILLY ME!
INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S STAIRS
Bridget ascends the stairs, picking up bits of paper, plastic cups and wine glasses as she goes.
INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S LIVING ROOM
Bridget sits on the couch and surveys the damage. There are plastic cups, wine glasses, crisps and streamers strewn across the floor.
BRIDGET V.O.
MAYBE I SHOULDN'T BOTHER CLEANING. THIS LOOKS BETTER THAN MOST DAYS WHEN IT'S JUST ME HEAR BY MYSELF. MY LIFE IS SO BLOODY PATHETIC, I'M 30-ODD YEARS OLD AND I JUST CAN'T GET IT TOGETHER. BLOODY HELL!
She looks around the room and with a horrified look on her face grabs the remote control and uses it to pick up a pair of knickers from the arm rest of the sofa.
BRIDGET V.O.
THESE AREN'T EVEN MINE!
she flicks the knickers over her shoulder and slumps down in the sofa.
BRIDGET V.O.
OH WHAT'S THE POINT ANYWAY? ALL I WANT IS A MAN. THAT'S WHAT I NEED. I MEAN, I'M A BLOODY FEMINIST, BUT EVERYTHING I DO IN MY LIFE IS DETERMINED BY HOW I CAN IMPRESS A BLOKE THAT I FANCY AND BAG A MAN TO MARRY. I'M JUST OBSESSED, BLOODY HELL BLOODY.
O.S. THE SOUND OF DRIPPING
Bridget gets up to investigate, and heads into the kitchen
INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S KITCHEN
She walks over the sink and reaches to turn off the tap, but she hears the drip again while the tap remains dry. She follows the dripping noise back into her bedroom.
INT. SHOT BRIDGET'S BEDROOM
She takes slow steps into the bedroom, peeks into the bathroom and sees that the tap is also not dripping here.
O.S. DRIPPING CONTINUES
She kneels down to look under her bed and then sits up with a look of realisation on her face, then goes over to the window
BRIDGET
OH BRIDGET, YOU MUST GET ROUND TO CLEARING OUT THOSE GUTTERS ONE OF THESE DAYS. ADD THAT TO THE THOUSAND OTHER TASKS ON THE TO-DO LIST THEN! I'M JUST SO BLOODY SCATTY, I CAN'T BLOODY ORGANISE MY LIFE! IF I HAD A MAN AND WAS THIN, I WOULDN'T HAVE THESE PROBLEMS, THAT'S FOR SURE. TOTALLY HAVE A CRAVING FOR CHOCOLATE AND WINE RIGHT NOW, AND MAYBE SOME CHEESY POP MUSIC TO DANCE AROUND ALONE IN MY HOUSE.
Bridget sticks her head out of the window and looks down onto the street. A drop of liquid falls onto her head, and then another one. It is red. Bridget cannot see this, however, and wipes it away. Another drop and she wipes it away again, this time looking at her hands.
BRIDGET
OH BLOODY SHIT. OH BLOODY BALLBAGS. BLOODY HELL. BLOODY BLOODY BLOOD.
She slowly raises her head.
EXT. SHOT FRONT OF BRIDGET'S HOUSE
O.S. A PIERCING SCREAM IS HEARD
A woman with a pram and a couple walking hand in hand stop in their tracks. The scream continues.
The title appears on the screen:
"BRIDGET JONES 3: DEATH BY CHOCOLATE...AND ALSO STABBING"
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