On Day 4 you must post a 7 sentence synopsis of your film....speaking personally, I love this part.
The 7 line synopsis is an opportunity for you to hook your audience, to grasp onto their lapels, look them square in the eyeballs and tell them what you goddamn need them to know, OK! A good synopsis should build a buzz about your film. A written word trailer, is a 'literal' tease. The 7 line synopsis should get your audience interested, wondering, contemplative and keen, here are this years 7 line synopsis....

Alone and forgotten, a dismal adventure powered by a flashlight.
Violated and afraid, years have twisted it’s gnarled husk.
A spy in the enemy’s country.
A colonial monstrosity long forgotten.
Wrapped in the enemy’s clothing, feasting on foreign blood.
God knows why I’m here, and he knows if I’ll leave.
No one can stop the sack.

‘Chased by an arm, buried by a shovel.
Followed by a man with hairy ginger stubble.
Two unsuspecting friends, innocent and free.
Little did they know that soon they would see.
Driving and laughing and doing their deeds.
Meanwhile death was sowing his seeds.
The world is burning.’

'From high above a jet-like whine came close, real close.
The world winked away in three flash pops, my hearing went with it.
Rough professional handling, the bag over my head and the hard seat I was lashed into told me enough.
A Black Ops Team, god-knows who hired them, had crashed my little party.
Of course I had enemies, in this line of work who didn't, but why now?
My emergency tracker flashed red in the corner of my vision and a data packet clicked off to whomever was close enough, or desperate enough, for a rescue-or-recovery job.
The scent of blood, my own, was strong in my nostrils.'

'Jason had loved Carrie from the day she moved in across the street.
A geeky t-shirt princess with a record collection from her grandfathers attic.
Summers were filled with the scent of honeysuckle, slow dancing and 'The Raspberry Tarts' on a dusty old 45 player. Twenty-five years later Jason stood by her graveside, his face pinched tight in grief and anger.
An elaborate plan came to him, slowly, like haze rising after rain
on hot black tarmac.
He'd kill the men who took his Carrie, he'd die in the process too, of course.
It was messy, bloody, horrible plan with an amazing soundtrack.'

'Two shots and its panic-time. Chamber another round, take it easy, breathe.
If only they'd stop screaming, it is so distracting.
The President is flushed away with professional ease, of course.
Thats ok, just breathe, he's not the target. Any second now, and there she is.
Blue dress, turquoise shoes, and....she's down.'

'Empty the purse of any modern woman and you'll find five major crimes in progress.
Buy her three drinks and you can help her with at least one of them.
Buy her a house and you can pony along for the ride.
Just keep a weather eye on her best friend, that dame has no boundaries.
Thanksgiving 2012, what a party, friend! Great food, expensive drugs, rock n roll, dancing, wild sex, murder, screaming, dismemberment and then, suddenly, the fun stopped. So, whats this town called again, honey?'

'Wild eyed, Sammy smashed a stolen white '98 Toyota Corolla into a Newport, Long Island street-side bar at high speed, killing six and wounding 14. 
A security tape from a convenience store has her slicing a mans throat not 15 minutes earlier, 300 miles away.
Sammy held up a casino cash truck in Las Vegas, Nevada too.
But Sammy wasn't in NYC or Cleveland or Vegas, and her alibi is airtight.
So, who is Sammy? And why are there three murderous versions of her?
If you can believe the squints, there may be more where she came from.'

'The hum of the neon transformer drills into the cornflakes of my brain, man.
Sweetie is in my bed again too, like sweet Coltrane bongo drums on a bad acid trip, you dig?
She said we'd never part, and man oh man, she's so right.
Perched right there like some weekend beach-blanket gidget, smokin' hot in a tablecloth bikini top, the sand still in her shoes, a filter-tip between her lips.
Man, she was crazy, like wow wipe-out killer crazy.
Four, no, five lines of this harsh nose-candy, the high thin whine in my head is like a musical, man, then we shop for a new ride and cruise all night. Out there somewhere, sitting on some schmoes table, is money we need.'

'We weren't an ugly couple, we just didn't get invited to parties, or picnics, or weddings or on cruises with pals.
All we had was each other. Having low expectations gives you a kind of freedom.
On Saturdays Bernice would fix us a chocolate cake, maybe a platter of sweet treats, and I would home-brew some explosives. Nothing big, of course, we more mischevious than out-right deadly.
Then I found this here old x-ray machine.
When I told Bernice what it could do, she was fair brimming with notions on where to detonate it.'


The 7 line synposis is mandatory and must be posted by the end of Day 4.