The script’s dialogue was ordinary. “Salmon?” “Yes.” “Wasabi?” “Always.” But the parentheticals grew wrong.
Something wet touched my shoulder.
My hand trembled. The air in my room grew cold. I heard—no, felt —the sound of a knife being sharpened behind my wall. scary sushi script
I laughed nervously. Horror sushi? Absurd. The script’s dialogue was ordinary
LOGLINE: A late-night sushi chef discovers his cutting board is a gateway to drowned things, and his special rolls are not what they seem. scary sushi script