The Specials, continued.
Jun. 8th, 2007 02:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_scribblesBig big thanks to those of you who've given me feedback on the script so far - it's been really helpful. So much so that I've decided to post the next bit that I've written... this carries straight on from the end of the last post - Smith and Amethyst are in the church, Donald's ghost has taken on a strange new voice and agression which has given Smith a nosebleed and freaked him out somewhat...
DONALD rises slowly to his feet. He is taller than he should be and the strange, unsettling features begin to assert themselves on his face.
SMITH speedily walks down the church’s aisle, away from DONALD.
SMITH:
You really don’t want to be here, Janet.
AMETHYST flutters sarcastically.
AMETHYST:
Yipe! It’s a guh-guh-guh-ghost! Like, let’s make like a tree and get the Hell outta here...
SMITH pauses briefly as he reaches her.
SMITH:
You know what? Fine. On your own head be it.
SMITH continues to briskly walk past her.
AMETHYST:
Finally. The boys have been separated from the men… women.
She sniffs and tries to light a match.
From his pew, ‘DONALD’ leers at AMETHYST, widely, and breathes in deep.
DONALD:
(with the strange new voice)
Smell that, Donny? Woman. Wibbley wobbleys. Bleeding too. Mmmm.
SMITH slows down at the church door, troubled by what he’s hearing. He turns his head and sees that DONALD has begun to move down the aisle towards AMETHYST, walking floatily on just his tiptoes, as though he were doing so through water.
DONALD:
(still with the new voice)
What do you say, Donny? Woman’s all open. Wants us.
AMETHYST gets the match to strike, but a sudden gust of wind blows the flame out. She giggles.
AMETHYST:
Easy, tiger!
DONALD:
(with the new voice)
Woman’s all warm and soft. We could stay there awhile. What do you say? Wibbley wobbley. Smells like blood.
SMITH:
Get out of there you stupid cow!
AMETHYST:
Fuck off, nosebleed boy!
DONALD has almost reached AMETHYST, and reaches a hand out to her.
DONALD:
Smells like blood.
SMITH:
Oh for…
SMITH darts back into the church, grabs AMETHYST’s hand and yanks her away from DONALD, forcing her to run with him back towards the door. DONALD reacts furiously.
DONALD:
No!
Two more tapestries come off the wall and the pews begin to shake.
AMETHYST:
(over him)
What the Hell are you d...?
The back pew suddenly flies up onto its end, and then over in front of them, blocking them. AMETHYST yelps a little. SMITH leaps over it and pulls AMETHYST with him. She makes it fairly swiftly over the fallen pew but stumbles a little. Suddenly right behind them, DONALD grabs her hair and pulls it back. AMETHYST gasps. SMITH reaches back and grabs AMETHYST’s hair himself, wrenching it out of DONALD’s hand but pulling a good handful out as he does.
AMETHYST:
Ow! What the…
SMITH reaches the church door and gives AMETHYST a good tug, sending her flying out. He slams the door shut behind him. FATHER GREGORY and ANNIE, still waiting, eye them worriedly.
FATHER GREGORY:
What happened?
The door begins to bang as if being thumped from inside. AMETHYST glares at SMITH indignantly, feeling her scalp.
AMETHYST:
He’s insane! The man’s actually insane!
(to SMITH)
I was doing my bloody job, you bastard. How dare you just drag me out of there like that? Just because you were all freaked out and nosebleedy about it. I’ll have you know I’ve handled worse stuff like that hundreds of times.
The banging begins to quieten. SMITH exhales.
AMETHYST:
If you really were the great psychic guru you say you are you’d know that this is all just par for the course…
SMITH:
How stupid are you, Janet?
AMETHYST:
Here we go. First he “saves” me, then he tells me I’m stupid…
SMITH:
You tried to perform an exorcism when you’re on the blob. Idiot! Don’t you know they can sniff it out a mile away? It only gets them all frisky.
ANNIE and FATHER GREGORY groan in disgust at SMITH. AMETHYST stares at him, agog.
AMETHYST:
There… there are no words. You are… officially… the most repulsive waste of DNA I’ve ever met.
SMITH:
Now now. Don’t get your Tampax in a twist.
ANNIE:
Mr Smith, please!
AMETHYST:
You know what, Alfred, you really should look up the word ‘shame’ in a dictionary some time. If spirits do react to blood, you provided quite enough for it yourself.
She pulls a tissue from her pocket and throws it at him.
AMETHYST:
I think you’ll find you’ve got a little something on your face.
SMITH ignores AMETHYST but turns to FATHER GREGORY.
SMITH:
It’s more complicated than I thought, Padre. I need a while to think about how to handle it. Don’t go in there ‘til I come back, eh? And don’t let anyone else in either. Definitely no women. Especially her.
He indicates to AMETHYST as he walks off.
AMETHYST sighs and shakes her head, watching him leave.
AMETHYST:
What can I say? I told you these people were unhinged. I doubt he’ll be back.
She gives ANNIE a brief smile.
AMETHYST:
Still. Good riddance, eh? Give me a moment to compose myself and I’ll carry on with the ritual as arranged…
ANNIE and FATHER GREGORY exchanged panicked glances.
FATHER GREGORY:
(quickly)
No.
AMETHYST frowns.
AMETHYST:
Sorry? Don’t tell me you believe that idiot.
ANNIE:
It’s nearly dark.
AMETHYST:
Annie, I told you, that doesn’t…
FATHER GREGORY:
It’s always worst at night. Maybe we should all call it a day.
AMETHYST:
But your church…
FATHER GREGORY:
It can survive another night. Really – I’d genuinely prefer you to deal with this issue in the daylight. From the violence I’ve experienced from it in the night time… I just think it would be best, for everybody’s sake.
ANNIE takes AMETHYST’s arm.
ANNIE:
You had a long trip to get here. Why don’t you get a good night’s rest, come back refreshed tomorrow.
AMETHYST looks from ANNIE to FATHER GREGORY to the closed church door. She sighs in defeat.
AMETHYST:
Fine. I could do with some helpful dreams anyway.
AMETHYST allows ANNIE to lead her back down the street.
AMETHYST:
(to FATHER GREGORY)
I’ll see you in the morning.
FATHER GREGORY nods and sees her off. When she is out of earshot, he puts his finger up to his ear.
FATHER GREGORY:
Was… was that all right?
A mysterious VOICE speaks to him from a hidden earpiece.
VOICE:
It’ll have to do. We’ll call you again tomorrow.
FATHER GREGORY nods, nervously.
FATHER GREGORY:
Thank you.
FADE TO BLACK.
MONTAGE SEQUENCE – AMETHYST’S DREAM
ALL SHOTS HAVE A STEADY BEAT TO THEM – THEY CUT FROM ONE TO THE OTHER AT THE SPEED OF AROUND A SHOT EVERY TWO SECONDS.
C/U of SMITH’S left eye. SFX of SMITH taking a deep breath in.
C/U of AMETHYST’S right eye. SFX of AMETHYST taking a deep breath out.
A dark, fast flowing river. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
C/U of SMITH’S left eye. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Take my hand.
The river again. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
I don’t need it.
SMITH, in front of an upended pew in the church, his hand out. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply. SMITH is completely still, his voice speaks as a V/O.
SMITH:
(off)
You’re going to drown.
AMETHYST, standing chest deep in the fast, dark river. She wears a blindfold. Like SMITH before, she stands still. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
You’re a liar.
SMITH, standing at the bank of the river, his hand outstretched. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Can’t you feel it?
C/U of AMETHYST taking SMITH’S hand. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
SMITH standing on the river bank. AMETHYST sits at his feet, dripping wet. SMITH has AMETHYST’s hair in his hand. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Help me.
Outside the church, AMETHYST and SMITH are dressed in wedding clothes. SMITH hands AMETHYST a red balloon, which she serenely lets go. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
Why did you help me?
SMITH is lying unnaturally at the bottom of a flight of stairs. His nose and mouth are bleeding. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Help me.
C/U on AMETHYST holding up a condom, still in its wrapper. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
You’re going to need this.
SMITH sits at a dinner table. He is eating cotton wool with a knife and fork. He is surrounded by number 4s. He looks up and grins. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
Thank you.
Outside the church, the red balloon is floating away. Quickly pan down to the spot across the street that MICHAELS had been watching them from. Instead of MICHAELS is a FIGURE completely draped in black. SFX of radio static and SMITH’S breathing, which has suddenly become harsh and panicked. Pan around to the other side of the street. SMITH, still in Wedding clothes, is running away. AMETHYST, in Bridalwear still stands outside the church. She looks down at her wrist and sees that there is a long bungee cord around it, the other end of which is connected to the still fleeing SMITH.
SMITH and AMETHYST at a finely decorated kitchen table. It would look like a blissful domestic scene were SMITH’S nose not bleeding freely and were they not both shackled to their chairs. Between them sits the black draped FIGURE, also shackled.
VOICE:
(through thick radio static)
It’ll have to do…
INT: ANNIE’S SPARE ROOM, NIGHT
In her bed, AMETHYST opens her eyes.
AMETHYST:
Hmm.
She switches on her bedside lamp and reaches for a pad and pen on the bedside table. She begins to write.
AMETHYST:
(muttering to herself)
River… blindfold… stairs… cotton wool… four… red balloon… Smith…
(she sighs)
Condom… wedding… Ecch. That doesn’t look good.
DONALD rises slowly to his feet. He is taller than he should be and the strange, unsettling features begin to assert themselves on his face.
SMITH speedily walks down the church’s aisle, away from DONALD.
SMITH:
You really don’t want to be here, Janet.
AMETHYST flutters sarcastically.
AMETHYST:
Yipe! It’s a guh-guh-guh-ghost! Like, let’s make like a tree and get the Hell outta here...
SMITH pauses briefly as he reaches her.
SMITH:
You know what? Fine. On your own head be it.
SMITH continues to briskly walk past her.
AMETHYST:
Finally. The boys have been separated from the men… women.
She sniffs and tries to light a match.
From his pew, ‘DONALD’ leers at AMETHYST, widely, and breathes in deep.
DONALD:
(with the strange new voice)
Smell that, Donny? Woman. Wibbley wobbleys. Bleeding too. Mmmm.
SMITH slows down at the church door, troubled by what he’s hearing. He turns his head and sees that DONALD has begun to move down the aisle towards AMETHYST, walking floatily on just his tiptoes, as though he were doing so through water.
DONALD:
(still with the new voice)
What do you say, Donny? Woman’s all open. Wants us.
AMETHYST gets the match to strike, but a sudden gust of wind blows the flame out. She giggles.
AMETHYST:
Easy, tiger!
DONALD:
(with the new voice)
Woman’s all warm and soft. We could stay there awhile. What do you say? Wibbley wobbley. Smells like blood.
SMITH:
Get out of there you stupid cow!
AMETHYST:
Fuck off, nosebleed boy!
DONALD has almost reached AMETHYST, and reaches a hand out to her.
DONALD:
Smells like blood.
SMITH:
Oh for…
SMITH darts back into the church, grabs AMETHYST’s hand and yanks her away from DONALD, forcing her to run with him back towards the door. DONALD reacts furiously.
DONALD:
No!
Two more tapestries come off the wall and the pews begin to shake.
AMETHYST:
(over him)
What the Hell are you d...?
The back pew suddenly flies up onto its end, and then over in front of them, blocking them. AMETHYST yelps a little. SMITH leaps over it and pulls AMETHYST with him. She makes it fairly swiftly over the fallen pew but stumbles a little. Suddenly right behind them, DONALD grabs her hair and pulls it back. AMETHYST gasps. SMITH reaches back and grabs AMETHYST’s hair himself, wrenching it out of DONALD’s hand but pulling a good handful out as he does.
AMETHYST:
Ow! What the…
SMITH reaches the church door and gives AMETHYST a good tug, sending her flying out. He slams the door shut behind him. FATHER GREGORY and ANNIE, still waiting, eye them worriedly.
FATHER GREGORY:
What happened?
The door begins to bang as if being thumped from inside. AMETHYST glares at SMITH indignantly, feeling her scalp.
AMETHYST:
He’s insane! The man’s actually insane!
(to SMITH)
I was doing my bloody job, you bastard. How dare you just drag me out of there like that? Just because you were all freaked out and nosebleedy about it. I’ll have you know I’ve handled worse stuff like that hundreds of times.
The banging begins to quieten. SMITH exhales.
AMETHYST:
If you really were the great psychic guru you say you are you’d know that this is all just par for the course…
SMITH:
How stupid are you, Janet?
AMETHYST:
Here we go. First he “saves” me, then he tells me I’m stupid…
SMITH:
You tried to perform an exorcism when you’re on the blob. Idiot! Don’t you know they can sniff it out a mile away? It only gets them all frisky.
ANNIE and FATHER GREGORY groan in disgust at SMITH. AMETHYST stares at him, agog.
AMETHYST:
There… there are no words. You are… officially… the most repulsive waste of DNA I’ve ever met.
SMITH:
Now now. Don’t get your Tampax in a twist.
ANNIE:
Mr Smith, please!
AMETHYST:
You know what, Alfred, you really should look up the word ‘shame’ in a dictionary some time. If spirits do react to blood, you provided quite enough for it yourself.
She pulls a tissue from her pocket and throws it at him.
AMETHYST:
I think you’ll find you’ve got a little something on your face.
SMITH ignores AMETHYST but turns to FATHER GREGORY.
SMITH:
It’s more complicated than I thought, Padre. I need a while to think about how to handle it. Don’t go in there ‘til I come back, eh? And don’t let anyone else in either. Definitely no women. Especially her.
He indicates to AMETHYST as he walks off.
AMETHYST sighs and shakes her head, watching him leave.
AMETHYST:
What can I say? I told you these people were unhinged. I doubt he’ll be back.
She gives ANNIE a brief smile.
AMETHYST:
Still. Good riddance, eh? Give me a moment to compose myself and I’ll carry on with the ritual as arranged…
ANNIE and FATHER GREGORY exchanged panicked glances.
FATHER GREGORY:
(quickly)
No.
AMETHYST frowns.
AMETHYST:
Sorry? Don’t tell me you believe that idiot.
ANNIE:
It’s nearly dark.
AMETHYST:
Annie, I told you, that doesn’t…
FATHER GREGORY:
It’s always worst at night. Maybe we should all call it a day.
AMETHYST:
But your church…
FATHER GREGORY:
It can survive another night. Really – I’d genuinely prefer you to deal with this issue in the daylight. From the violence I’ve experienced from it in the night time… I just think it would be best, for everybody’s sake.
ANNIE takes AMETHYST’s arm.
ANNIE:
You had a long trip to get here. Why don’t you get a good night’s rest, come back refreshed tomorrow.
AMETHYST looks from ANNIE to FATHER GREGORY to the closed church door. She sighs in defeat.
AMETHYST:
Fine. I could do with some helpful dreams anyway.
AMETHYST allows ANNIE to lead her back down the street.
AMETHYST:
(to FATHER GREGORY)
I’ll see you in the morning.
FATHER GREGORY nods and sees her off. When she is out of earshot, he puts his finger up to his ear.
FATHER GREGORY:
Was… was that all right?
A mysterious VOICE speaks to him from a hidden earpiece.
VOICE:
It’ll have to do. We’ll call you again tomorrow.
FATHER GREGORY nods, nervously.
FATHER GREGORY:
Thank you.
FADE TO BLACK.
MONTAGE SEQUENCE – AMETHYST’S DREAM
ALL SHOTS HAVE A STEADY BEAT TO THEM – THEY CUT FROM ONE TO THE OTHER AT THE SPEED OF AROUND A SHOT EVERY TWO SECONDS.
C/U of SMITH’S left eye. SFX of SMITH taking a deep breath in.
C/U of AMETHYST’S right eye. SFX of AMETHYST taking a deep breath out.
A dark, fast flowing river. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
C/U of SMITH’S left eye. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Take my hand.
The river again. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
I don’t need it.
SMITH, in front of an upended pew in the church, his hand out. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply. SMITH is completely still, his voice speaks as a V/O.
SMITH:
(off)
You’re going to drown.
AMETHYST, standing chest deep in the fast, dark river. She wears a blindfold. Like SMITH before, she stands still. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
You’re a liar.
SMITH, standing at the bank of the river, his hand outstretched. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Can’t you feel it?
C/U of AMETHYST taking SMITH’S hand. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
SMITH standing on the river bank. AMETHYST sits at his feet, dripping wet. SMITH has AMETHYST’s hair in his hand. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Help me.
Outside the church, AMETHYST and SMITH are dressed in wedding clothes. SMITH hands AMETHYST a red balloon, which she serenely lets go. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
Why did you help me?
SMITH is lying unnaturally at the bottom of a flight of stairs. His nose and mouth are bleeding. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
(off)
Help me.
C/U on AMETHYST holding up a condom, still in its wrapper. SFX of SMITH inhaling deeply.
AMETHYST:
(off)
You’re going to need this.
SMITH sits at a dinner table. He is eating cotton wool with a knife and fork. He is surrounded by number 4s. He looks up and grins. SFX of AMETHYST exhaling deeply.
SMITH:
Thank you.
Outside the church, the red balloon is floating away. Quickly pan down to the spot across the street that MICHAELS had been watching them from. Instead of MICHAELS is a FIGURE completely draped in black. SFX of radio static and SMITH’S breathing, which has suddenly become harsh and panicked. Pan around to the other side of the street. SMITH, still in Wedding clothes, is running away. AMETHYST, in Bridalwear still stands outside the church. She looks down at her wrist and sees that there is a long bungee cord around it, the other end of which is connected to the still fleeing SMITH.
SMITH and AMETHYST at a finely decorated kitchen table. It would look like a blissful domestic scene were SMITH’S nose not bleeding freely and were they not both shackled to their chairs. Between them sits the black draped FIGURE, also shackled.
VOICE:
(through thick radio static)
It’ll have to do…
INT: ANNIE’S SPARE ROOM, NIGHT
In her bed, AMETHYST opens her eyes.
AMETHYST:
Hmm.
She switches on her bedside lamp and reaches for a pad and pen on the bedside table. She begins to write.
AMETHYST:
(muttering to herself)
River… blindfold… stairs… cotton wool… four… red balloon… Smith…
(she sighs)
Condom… wedding… Ecch. That doesn’t look good.
