Originally this was just a short story, but the more I thought about it, it screamed to be a short film, so it has been revised slightly and is now in screenplay format.

          INT. FRAT HOUSE - KITCHEN

          A party is in progress. Rave music rattles the walls. DONNIE
          and GREG sit at a filthy kitchen table, littered with half
          empty liquor bottles and crushed beer cans.

          Greg is swaying drunkenly and Donnie is holding a
          revolver.

                              GREG
                    Ah dude, again? You maniac, you
                    can't get enough. Hey HALEY, get in
                    here. Donnie's about to try his
                    luck again.

          Haley staggers into the kitchen and slowly absorbs the 
          scene.

                              HALEY
                    Donnie, why the fuck do you have a
                    gun?

                              GREG
                    Evidently you've never seen Donnie
                    drunk. He does this every time he
                    drinks. He's like a roulette whiz kid.

          Haley throws sardonic glance in Greg's direction and then
          opens her mouth to speak.

                              DONNIE
                    This isn't just a gun, as a matter
                    of fact, it's a Smith & Wesson
                    model 36 chambered in .357 magnum. 
                    This weapon is a masterpiece.

                              HALEY
                    What exactly are you gonna do with
                    it. Should you be playing with your
                    gun when you're schnockered?

                              GREG
                    Man, last weekend he played like
                    seven times. He's a showman. It's
                    quite a spectacle.

                              DONNIE
                    Haley, it's called Russian roulette. 
                    Observe. I'm going to load one, only 
                    one, chamber. Now...

          We see Haley's eyes widen and her jaw hang slightly open as
          she envisions the mayhem that seems inevitable.

                              DONNIE (O.C.)
                         (cont.)
                    ...now you spin the cylinder like
                    so. And once it locks...

          CLOSE UP of the revolver as Donnie thumb-cocks the hammer.

                              DONNIE
                         (cont.)
                    ...you put it to your head, and
                    pull the trigger. Once for kicks.
                    Twice if you're feeling real lucky. 
                    Three if you need a thrill.

          CLOSE UP of Haley's eyes, clenched shut.  We hear three
          hollow clicks reverberate. We pull out as she opens her eyes
          to see Greg's face contorted in pure joyous silent laughter.

          Donnie stares Haley square in the eyes, smirking a little.

                              DONNIE
                    See how that works? Here Greg, you
                    try it.

          Donnie tosses Greg the magnum. Greg seems to have regained
          his composure, but is wiping tears of laughter from his
          eyes.

                              GREG
                    I've got a feeling it's in the last
                    chamber. Should I do it Haley?

                              HALEY
                         (frantically)
                    Absolutely not! Donnie's an idiot.

                              DONNIE
                    Bite me Haley, and Greg, for
                    Christ's sake, spin the cylinder.
                    The model 36...

          We hear Click, BANG! In slow motion we see the kitchen painted 
          with Greg's brain, we hear Haley shrieking in the back ground.

                              DONNIE (O.C.)
                         (cont.)
                    ...is a five-shooter. Goddammit.

                                                               FADE TO BLACK