INT. ROB REINER’S HOUSE – DAY

Larry David stands at the front door, holding a bottle of olive oil.

LARRY

(under his breath)

He asked for extra virgin. This is virgin-adjacent at best.

Larry knocks. No answer. He tries the door—it’s unlocked.

LARRY

Rob? …Rob?

He steps inside.

INT. LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Larry turns the corner and freezes.

Rob Reiner lies on the floor, motionless. There’s blood pooled around him.

LARRY

Oh—oh no. Ohhh no no no no no.

Larry instinctively steps back, slips slightly, and grabs the wall—smearing blood onto his hands and jacket.

LARRY

Ah! AH! What am I doing?! Why did I touch it?! Why do I always touch it?!

He looks down at himself.

LARRY

I look very guilty. I look like I did something. I didn’t do anything!

Larry backs away, panicking, and bumps into a chair, knocking it over.

LARRY

Great. Now I’ve rearranged the crime scene. Fantastic. Real helpful, Larry.

He pulls out his phone and dials.

LARRY

(into phone)

Leon. Leon, you gotta come over here right now.

INTERCUT – LEON’S APARTMENT

Leon is eating cereal on the couch.

LEON

What’s up, man?

LARRY

I’m at Rob Reiner’s house and he’s—he’s not alive.

LEON

…Not alive how?

LARRY

Dead. He’s dead. And I’m covered in blood.

LEON

Hold on. You covered, or blood covered?

LARRY

Blood-covered! I didn’t kill him!

LEON

That’s exactly what a blood-covered dude says.

LARRY

Leon, don’t do this. I need help. I can’t call the police like this. I look like a murder enthusiast.

LEON

Why you even in his house?

LARRY

He asked for olive oil! You can’t ignore an olive oil request!

LEON

Man died for olive oil?

LARRY

I don’t know what he died for! That’s not the point!

LEON

Alright, alright. I’m coming. But I’m not touching nothing. I don’t do post-death assistance.

INT. ROB REINER’S HOUSE – LATER

Leon walks in and immediately stops short.

LEON

Oh hell no.

LARRY

Keep your voice down!

LEON

Man, your boy look done.

LARRY

He’s not my boy! He’s a director I mildly argued with in 1997!

Leon looks Larry up and down.

LEON

Why you look like you lost a fight with a ketchup factory?

LARRY

I slipped! I panicked! I grabbed things! I don’t panic well!

LEON

You panic very hands-on.

Larry paces.

LARRY

What do I do? If I call the police like this, I’m finished. I’ll be “Bloody Larry” forever.

LEON

First thing—we gotta get you un-blooded.

LARRY

You’re suggesting… what, a shower? In a dead man’s house?

LEON

Man, you already here. Don’t half-commit to the weirdness.

Larry hesitates.

LARRY

Is that disrespectful?

LEON

Being covered in his blood is already disrespectful.

Larry considers this.

LARRY

That’s… annoyingly logical.

INT. BATHROOM – MOMENTS LATER

Larry scrubs furiously at the sink.

LARRY

It’s not coming off! Why is blood so loyal?!

LEON

Blood clingy, man. That’s why crimes get solved.

Larry stops, alarmed.

LARRY

Crimes get solved?!

LEON

Relax. You ain’t do nothing. You just gotta look like someone who didn’t do nothing.

Larry sighs, defeated.

LARRY

I just wanted to deliver olive oil.

Leon nods.

LEON

That’s how it always starts.

Larry looks at himself in the mirror—still stained, still panicked.

LARRY

I’m gonna jail for being polite.

CUT TO BLACK.

END.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5810699&forum_id=2#49512740)