S1E5 Transcipt

"Ghoul Scouts At Camp Crystal Lake!?!"

These transcripts are for your enjoyment, but please do not reuse, readapt or reproduce without express written permission. ~ Ken

CAST & VOICE TALENT

  • Alexander Luthor ~ Chad Johnson/Bully
  • Cody Hightower ~ Jim
  • Ariel Driver ~ Susan
  • Paul M Watson ~ Jake
  • Clint Winberry ~ Moose Miller
  • Peter Anthony Buxton ~ Scoutmaster Stewart
  • Christian Mower ~ Mr. Handy / Vendorbot
  • Kenneth Vigue ~ Simon Rex
  • Michael T. Boisvert Jr. ~ “Fast Eddie” Tipsin
  • Jorian Koeten ~ Insult Bot
  • Jessica Marie Dickey ~ Patsy Parker / Mary Ann Belts
  • Jessica Duval ~ Susie/Ella
  • Taylor Jinx Knight ~ Amata
  • Morgan Brown ~ Karen Maidenhead
  • Mary Kalopodes-Saunders ~ Overseer
  • Mitch Morman ~ Radio Host, Workshop Willy
  • Ray Middlethon ~ Commander Connor Johns
  • Lucy Middlethon ~ Lt. Anders
  • Brandon Ledford ~ Officer Hawkins
  • Mark Hauswirth ~ Brian
  • Logan Hauswirth ~ Ghoul Scout #1:
  • Sophie Hauswirth ~ Ghoul Scout #2/Becky
  • Robert Solomon ~ High Priest of the Reformed Orthodox Bulb Bringers

KEN: This post-apocalyptic podcast contains some foul language, dark humor and depictions of well warranted violence. You have been warned. Proceed through the Vault Door at your own risk.

SCENE 1: EXT. RAILROAD TRACKS. CRUNCHING GRAVEL. HOLOTAPE TRANSITION SOUND IS HEARD.

SIMON:                Appalachia, Day 72. 98 degrees in the sun. It’s been 3 days…3 days on the run with my guilt, my fear and this HUNGER consuming everything. I ate my best friend…and possibly 3 other people since then. It’s all becoming a bit of a blur. More importantly…I have been so focused on taming and satiating this dark hunger that I have neglected life essentials. I am out of water, Stimpacks, RadAway, even building supplies to repair my shack. I spent the morning ravaging the Scorched at Morgantown Airport, collecting everything I could carry. Jesus Christ it’s hot out here. I am…impossibly lugging 250 pounds of materials in my pants to the train station. I stopped questioning the physics of this place long ago, but I’m sure there is a joke in there somewhere about the empty void beneath my zipper. I must have thousands of caps worth of stuff in there. With one trade…I should be good to go. Bottlecaps. Who the hell decided bottle caps would be a good post-apocalyptic currency? If rarity was the goal why not use ammo or clean business suits? Ah! There it is.

VENDORBOT:     Good afternoon ma’am.

SIMON:                No, I’m…forget it. Good evening my fine tin fellow. This is your lucky day!

VENDORBOT:     We accept fair trades and trades acquired by questionable…MEANSSSS.

SIMON:                Well…took a look at what I have right down here…

UNZIPPING NOISE IS HEARD. POTS, PANS, GUNS AND PENCILS FALL OUT ONTO THE FLOOR.

SIMON:                I have 5 combat rifles in varying degrees of condition, 8 pipe pistols…I hear those are real popular with the noobs, 86 fine hairbrushes…never used, found inside a ghoul up near the junkyard…10mm pistols? I’ve got 23. Pots, pans, pencils. The whole lot, the whole bundle my good man. Now what do you say? 1,200 caps?

VENDORBOT:     The best I can do is 30 caps.

SIMON:                I’m sorry?

VENDORBOT:     25 caps.

SIMON:                What? You just said 30…and that is ridiculous. Look at all this stuff. I checked the price list. The actual value of this stuff is reflected in my offer.

VENDORBOT:     20 caps.

SIMON:                Are you insane? I died 3 times, almost died 18 times and lugged all this crap over here.

VENDORBOT:     Yeah…best I can do is 15 caps.

SIMON:                What the hell am I supposed to do with 15 caps?

VENDORBOT:     We are having a sale on diluted Stimpacks and fine hairbrushes.

SIMON:                I can’t live off 15 caps?!? Who the hell programmed you?

VENDORBOT:     Best I can do is 10 caps.

SIMON:                NO! 15 caps. Fine. Jesus Christ on a jetpack…how am I supposed to make caps out here?

VENDORBOT:     Have you checked the bulletin board? Summer jobs are posted there.

SIMON:                Yeah I’ll do that. What this?

VENDORBOT:     10 caps. 5 cap tax on all transactions.

SIMON:                TO WHO?

VENDORBOT:     We don’t ask those questions.

SIMON:                Right…summer job. Dad always wanted me to get a summer job when we got out here. But I can’t imagine there is a lot of people looking to get their grass mowed. Let’s see…earn summer caps, shape people’s lives…Camp Wannagrindalot needs counselors now. Work with kids? Screw that. Hey buddy, did someone come in here and deface these posters?

VENDORBOT:     People are in here all the time.

SIMON:                Yeah…you may have noticed this sign that says the Goatsquatch ate someone’s butthole.

VENDORBOT:     10 caps.

SIMON:                What? What did the poster say originally? I can’t peel these stickers off.

VENDORBOT:     Interested persons should visit Van Lowe Taxidermy to earn caps.

SIMON:                That sounds kind of interesting…well, I’m off to hunt the Goatsquatch. (Laughs) Hope he doesn’t eat my butthole.

TAPE STOPS. RESTARTS.

SIMON:                Appalachia, Day 73. (Pause) I…I have been…violated…

TAPE STOPS. RESTARTS.

SIMON:                Appalachia, Day 74. You know what…I don’t believe that guy even was the Goatsquatch. (sighs) Well, I guess it’s off to summer camp to earn some summer caps. Still, it may be a great opportunity for growth. What’s the worst that could happen?

MUSIC & INTRO SEQUENCE

 

SCENE 2: EXT. LOVER’S LEAP. SOUNDS OF CRUNCHING BRANCHES.

KAREN:                 Come on Fast Eddie…these saddle shoes are killin’ me! Where are we going?

EDDIE:                   Cut the gas Karen, we’re almost there!

KAREN:                 It’s creepy up here…and we’re supposed to be helping clean the cabins.

EDDIE:                   Ah…they’ve got plenty of hands to do that crap. I’ve been wanting to take you to my special place all week.

KAREN:                 I know what you’re all about Fast Eddie. I’m still trying to get your spit out of my ear. I’ve seen RadToads with greater tongue control than you.

EDDIE:                   Ha ha ha…real big tickle with that joke Karen. Chill…right up there is where we’re goin’.

KAREN:                 Lover’s Leap? But Mr. Handy warned us to stay away from there…it’s haunted.

EDDIE:                   Nah…they just tell those stories so the counselors keep their pants on. Look up!

KAREN:                 Oh Eddie! Look at all the stars.

EDDIE:                   I told yah. Worth the hike. Come on over here…

KAREN:                 Oh! Look at that vintage Corvega!

EDDIE:                   A really classy chassis for your sweet classy chassis. Come on, get in…allow me.

KAREN:                 Why yes fine sir…you’re a real gentleman.

EDDIE:                   I found this place last week. Has a perfect view of Crystal Lake below and the camp…plus all that sky! You can see clear over to Cranberry Bog. But that’s not all…

RADIO TURNS ON. WE HEAR THE END OF THE SONG AND THE VAULT RADIO STING. BRIEF AD. MUSIC RESUMES.

KAREN:                 The radio works!

EDDIE:                   Yeah I was able to hotwire it a little bit and got the radio working.  I tried to get the car going, but despite our advanced technical knowledge, Vault-Tec training, the 5,000 year half-life of the nuclear engine and readily available salvage parts off other cars…we just can’t have vehicles out here. You know how it is. Lame.

KAREN:                 Completely lame. Brrr..

EDDIE:                   You chilly? Skootch on over here. There…warmer?

KAREN:                 Mmmm…yes…this is nice. (Pause) Oh! What’s that?

EDDIE:                   Oh! It’s just the shifter or something…give daddy-o some sugar…

RADIO COMMERCIALS PLAY ON THE RADIO FOR DANDY BOY APPLES. WEATHER FORECAST. NEWS BULLETIN. WEIRD MAKE-OUT NOISES. CAR HONK. APOLOGIES. THESE CLIPS POP IN OVER RADIO AUDIO.

EDDIE:                   Oh…sorry. Your lips taste like tarberry’s baby. Shhh…just a little bit.

KAREN:                 Oh Eddie. Ouch…no, not there. I mean…is that all of it?

RADIO HOST:      76.1 the Vault and this is your voice in the void, your man on the mic, “Mad Dog” Mitch Morman (annoying radio sting) and now…for some news. After decades of dust bunnies and wild weed growth, the kiddos are coming back to Crystal Lake! A few enterprising 76ers descended from the original owners have reclaimed the old abandoned campground and have announced Ghoul Camp 2103 (radio sting 2103). The hotwired Handy’s are ready to take your young ones off your hands for the summer so you can live again. If interested contact Counselor Howard, Camp Wannagrindalot. In unrelated and possibly ominous news, the New Responders are investigating missing person’s reports in and around the Crystal Lake area. Commander Connor Johns of the 5-0 has issued fast travel adversaries and a curfew for the area as they follow up on leads about a mysterious sack hooded figure spotted in the area. And now…let’s spin some more holotapes…

A BRANCH SNAPS NEARBY.

KAREN:                 Oh! Shhh…what was that?

EDDIE:                   Ah nothing…probably just a molerat. Say…you heard the story about camp yet? Why it was shut down?

KAREN:                 No…

EDDIE:                   Picture it…Camp Wannagrindalot…2058. Back before the Great War this was the most well-known boys and girls camp in the state. As it got busier each summer, the owners the Warroll’s started expanding the place…adding more cabins, activity areas and even in the spring of 2058 the announcement of a new waterpark and beach area. There was only one man standing in their way: Ol’ Victor Miller. Miller had a hankering for just 2 things in life: bottle cap collecting and farming. He had a huge dairy farm and orchard that stretched from here clear on over towards Morgantown. As the traffic and noisy kids got louder and louder, his cows gave less and less milk. One night a couple of campers busted into his house and made off with some of his cap collection. He reported it to the Warroll’s, but nothing came of it. When dust from the construction of the waterfront excavation started killing off his apple trees…well he’d had enough.

KAREN:                 What happened?

EDDIE:                   It was the night of the Labor Day barn bash. Ernest and Patricia Warroll threw a big party every year for the staff at the end of the season. Miller busted in on the festivities…one thing led to another and Ernest and Victor came to blows. Before anyone could break it up, Victor had grabbed a sickle and lobbed Ernest’s head clean off…

KAREN:                 Oh Eddie!

EDDIE:                   Yup. Everyone turned on Miller, the head counselor Ron Kurz rounded up flashlights and guns and chased him up the mountain. They finally cornered him up here on Lover’s Leap, hoisting him up and throwing him right off the ledge and into Crystal Lake.

KAREN:                 Well…what about the police? Did they find the body?

EDDIE:                   Nope. They dragged the lake for 3 days before giving up. They never found Miller, the Sickleman they called him, but the police had the camp shut down, arrested a handful of the staff who had done away with him and that was that. 1 week later though, Miller’s entire farm went up in flames…cows, orchard and all. No suspects…and more importantly they never found his bottle cap collection.

KAREN:                 Oh, I don’t like that story…I want to go back to camp. We have to be up early…

EDDIE:                   Nah…you’re safe with me…come here.

BRANCH CRACK.

KAREN:                 Somebody’s there, Fast Eddie!

EDDIE:                   Come on, Karen. A man’s not made of stone.

KAREN:                 Let’s go back Eddie…

EDDIE:                   I need you so much, Karen

FLASHLIGHT CLICK.

KAREN:                 (Screams)

EDDIE:                   Oh shit!

CMDR. JOHNS:  Son, that is just about the whitest ass I’ve ever seen.

EDDIE:                   Back off man…I’ve got a pipe pistol.

CMDR. JOHNS:  Cool it kid. Commander Connor Johns, 5-0. I’d ask what you kids are doing up here, but your Vault-Girl underwear is on the dashboard.

KAREN:                 Oh this is so embarrassing!

CRASH OF BRANCHES.

HAWKINS:           Hold it right there!

CMDR. JOHNS:  Hawkins…get that flashlight out of my face. Put your piece away. False alarm.

HAWKINS:           Oh…sorry Commander.

EDDIE:                   Look here flatfoot we were just minding our business.

CMDR. JOHNS:  You were minding her business…in the middle of the night in an area we are actively investigating. Let’s see some Vault-Tec ID’s.

KAREN:                 Here you go officer…sir…

CMDR. JOHNS:  You too slick willy…

EDDIE:                   Alright, alright…

CMDR. JOHNS:  Eddie Tipsin and Karen Maidenhead. Working the camp this summer?

KAREN:                 Yes officer.

EDDIE:                   Yes.

HAWKINS:           Don’t you kids know there is a curfew in place? There’s a 500 cap fine…

CMDR. JOHNS:  Never mind that Hawkins. Look I’ve got enough trouble on my hands between raiders, thieves, that dickhead Racer and his Taco Cats, and now missing people. We put rules in place to protect you people. Get it?

KAREN:                 We’re real sorry sir.

EDDIE:                   Yeah, yeah…you guys are real…

KAREN:                 EDDIE! Shut up!

RADIO DISPATCH STATIC IS HEARD.

ANDERS:              Dispatch to 10-86.

CMDR. JOHNS:  10-86 here Anders.

ANDERS:              10-101, what is your status?

CMDR. JOHNS:  10-23 at Lover’s Leap. All clear. False alarm. Just a couple of kids.

ANDERS:              10-4. The Corvega?

CMDR. JOHNS:  Roger that.

ANDERS:              Ohhhh that takes me back. Remember our first time up there?

CMDR. JOHNS:  (clear throat) Uhh…open com sweetie.

ANDERS:              You wanna stop by Slocum’s Joe on the way back hun?

CMDR. JOHNS:  Yes, yes…coffee and an Atomic Crueler. Johns out.

ANDERS:              Hold up…we’ve got a 10-56 at Morgantown Airport. Drunk and disorderly…some fool with a missile launcher trying to shoot down cargo bots.

CMDR. JOHNS:  (Sighs) 10-4. En route.

HAWKINS:           Are we writing this up or?

CMDR. JOHNS:  Look I’m letting you kids go with a verbal warning. Mind the curfew…we don’t know what’s going on out here.

KAREN:                 Thank you officer. We’re heading back to camp now. Let’s GO Eddie…

EDDIE:                   Owww man…blue balls…

KAREN:                 Oh…you’re a pig “Fast Eddie”. I can’t believe you dragged me out here. We could’ve been fined.

EDDIE:                   I didn’t see anyone pulling your arm Karen.

BRANCH CRACK. THE KILLER NOISE IS HEARD (TODDD TOODDDD TODDD.)

KAREN:                 What was that?

EDDIE:                   It was probably just the bacon again. (Oinking noises). Beat it copper!

ARROW SOUND THROUGH THE AIR. STRIKES EDDIE IN THE CHEST.

EDDIE:                   Ahhh!

KAREN:                 (Scream) Eddie!

EDDIE:                   Run Karen…save…

KAREN:                 Fuck this place!

KAREN RUNS OFF QUICKLY.

EDDIE:                   …yourself. Ah…no Stimpacks…what? Who are? Oh shit! No! No! Please!

SOUND OF SICKLE LOBBING HEAD OFF.

KAREN:                 (Panting) Oh God…oh God…oh no…----please…bushes.

THE KILLER NOISE IS HEARD. FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

KAREN:                 (Quietly breathing)

FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE AWAY.

KAREN:                 I need to get back to camp. Check my PipBoy map…

RADIO START BLARING.

KAREN:                 Oh God…turn it off! How the fuck do I turn the radio off?

THE KILLER NOISE IS HEARD.

KAREN:                 It’s…it’s….SICKLE…

VOICE IS CUT OFF AS HEAD IS CHOPPED OFF. KILLER NOISE IS HEARD…FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

MUSIC TRANSITION

SCENE 3: EXT. CHAD & SUSIE’S CAMP. HAMMERING SOUNDS ARE HEARD.

CHAD (singing): Hey everybody, did the news get around about a guy named Butcher Chad. Oh, Chad just flew into this town  and he's gropin' around all the ladies teets…

SUSIE:                   Those aren’t the words stupid! Sing the good part. The part Ella likes!

ELLA (V.O.):        His singing makes my want to eat my own batteries. Tee hee!

CHAD & SUSIE:  He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'. He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'. He's hackin' and wackin' and smackin'. He just hacks, wacks, choppin' that meat

SUSIE:                   Are you almost done? Ella and I are bored.

CHAD:                   Almost little ghoul. There. Can you read that?

SUSIE:                   Vault 69 Gym…uhhh…h…o…home of B…r..BroFit. Git gud or get dead. 69? What Vault is that?

CHAD:                   The one where everyone gets served (laughs)

ELLA (V.O.):        I’ll bet everyone’s fanny gets a real good tickle in there! Tee hee!

CHAD:                   This is going to be the tops. We’ll like sign people up in the front here for daily workout sessions. Then when their caps are gone, down into the pit they go!

SUSIE:                   Spikes, flames and electricity is fun! We can open the little door downstairs and take all the sparklies off their bodies.

ELLA (V.O.):        It’s time for someone’s pills silly! Tee hee!

CHAD:                   What are those?

SUSIE:                   Bufftits! Ella and I found them on a bookcase in the middle of the street. If we keep taking these we’ll grow up to be a real lady, right Ella?

ELLA (V.O.):        Take these as prescribed! We don’t want bologna nipple tee hee!

CHAD:                   Let me see those. These aren’t Bufftits…they’re Bufftats! They make you stronger and smarter…

SUSIE:                   What? But when are we going to get older? (Starts to whimper and tear up).

CHAD:                   Uh…look little bit something happened to you a long time ago. But just because you aren’t ever gonna change doesn’t mean you’re not special okay? I’ve never seen any old person baby fist someone in the balls or slice up their ankles while they’re trying to run away like you can.

SUSIE:                   (Voice thick with crying) You…you mean it?

CHAD:                   Sure…now look…here’s a pipe pistol and some ammo. Why don’t head on over to that church over there and pick off some Vault noobs as they come through.

ELLA (V.O.):        That sounds like fun! When they’re dead we’ll tickle their fannies! Tee hee!

SUSIE:                   Oh boy! My very own pipe pistol! Maybe some day we’re find one of those 2 shit explaining ones!

CHAD:                   Don’t get into too much trouble. I need to pop out for the afternoon to do a supplies run. Don’t be good!

TAPE REEL STATIC. REVERSE CYMBAL SOUND. SOUND OF RECORD SKIP.

CHEERY 1950S MUSIC FADES IN.

SCENE 4: EXT. BEACH. RADIO COMMERCIAL.

JIM:                       Ah Susan! What an amazing day to catch some rays at the beach.

SUSAN:                Yes Jim! It sure is a swell day. Not a cloud in the sky! Here…let me rub some cooking oil on you. It’ll give us a rich, dark healthy tan.

SOUNDS OF SAND AND SCUFFLE.

JIM:                       Say fella! Watch out there! You’re kicking sand in our faces.

BULLY:                  Listen here you skinny twerp. This is my beach. I’d smack you a good one and make you humble, but you’d probably just blow away in the wind. Ha ha ha!

JIM:                       That big bully. I’ll get even some day…

SUSAN:                Oh don’t let it bother you little Jim.

JIM:                       Little huh? All I need are a few of these.

SUSAN:                What are those?

JIM:                       Why they’re new Bufftats!

SUSAN:                New Bufftats? You mean from those same swell people who made original Buffout?

JIM:                       The very same! New Bufftats instantly increases strength, endurance and perception. It delivers powerful medicines throughout the body optimizing every body without all the hard work of dynamic tension. But that’s not all, with greater perception, you can strategize and use your raw brute strength more efficiently than with original Buffout. Watch.

PILL BOTTLE OPENED. SHAKES PILL OUT. TAKE IT. COMIC GROWING NOISE.

SUSAN:                Oh Jim! Look at you go! You’re throbbing and getting bigger all over!

JIM:                       Look out Susan, I’m almost finished. Want some?

SUSAN:                No that’s fine Jim…I’ll just take care of myself later.

JIM:                       Excuse me Susan…

BULLY:                  You again! Hey…what happened to you!

JIM:                       Here’s something I owe you buddy!

PUNCH NOISE. HEAD EXPLODES. BODY FALLS.

SUSAN:                Oh Jim! You knocked his block RIGHT off! You ARE a real man after all.

JIM:                       That’s right Susan…and even though my 2 fellas downstairs are going from “whoa there walnuts” to “say where’d they go soy beans”, Bufftats has finally made me a real man.

CHEERY 1950S MUSIC OUTRO.

JIM:                       Fellas if you’re ready to be a NEW man, ask your local pharmacist for new Bufftats. Warning: Bufftats may induce headaches, nausea, and increase risk of cardiac arrest. Bufftats are highly addictive and are likely to cause scrotal miniaturization. But hey, shit happens.

RADIO STATIC TRANSITION

SCENE 5: FOOTSTEPS ON DIRT ROAD.

SIMON:                Appalachia, Day 75. Sunn y and ridiculously hot. I would gladly murder someone for an ice cream Sunday. I’ve been following the trail markers to camp. Where the hell is this place? Excuse me, sir?

WILLY:                   Youuuuuuu! Suck my dick Raider…

SIMON:                Not you again…look fella there’s not a workbench in sight. I don’t want anything from you other than information. I’m trying to find Camp Wannagrindalot.

WILLY:                   Ohhhh! Stay away from there. That land belongs to him.

SIMON:                To who?

WILLY:                   The Sickleman. He slept…but now…the noise…the kids…the counselors and their sexy time. He’s awake…and he’s angry.

SIMON:                Nifty. S o…location please?

WILLY:                   You god damned kids never listen. Up the trail…fork left and then right. Camp sign you can’t miss.

SIMON:                There…that wasn’t so hard. Have a pleasant day.

WILLY:                   You virgins…you filth! You’re all gonna die! You blood will stain the lake!

SIMON:                Alrighty then…

SCENE 6: WHITESPRINGS STATION. BIRDS SINGING. RESURRECTION RESPAWN NOISE.

AMATA:               Jake…Jake wake up! WAKE UP!

SLAP TO THE FACE.

JAKE:                     Ah….Jesus Christ…where…Amata?

AMATA:               The one and only.

JAKE:                     What….Simon. He…killed me. The son of a bitch ate me.

AMATA:               Yeah well…that was the least of your problems. How much do you remember?

JAKE:                     The dark place…that shop. I think I had to buy a flagpole and some Vault-Tec upholstered lounge chairs before they’d let me go. And then…I didn’t come back here. I was trapped somewhere else. Oh Christ is was terrible. It was like this place…but not. I arrived here, back at Grafton Station, but not here. As soon as I came back to life I was killed again. Again and again…without end. Every time I lost more and more of my crap.

AMATA:               Yeah I know.  Similar thing happened to me, except I wasn’t eaten by my best friend…I was mauled by=== wolves after I tried to tame them with a device I made out of a salvaged Mr. Handy and some genetic manipulation of my DNA. It…didn’t work out. I happened to recognize you while I was hiding in whatever hellscape reality that was. GeneralPen1s? Really?

JAKE:                     With a number…

AMATA:               One…yeah I got it.

JAKE:                     I lost almost all of my caps, my supplies…

AMATA:               Me too. Well, let’s go. We need to find some summer jobs. Earn back those caps.

JAKE:                     Overseer or not, I’m still sorry we didn’t head out together as planned.

AMATA:               Orders was orders. Be glad she at least trusted us and told us the truth. Yuck…I can still taste that roofie punch.

JAKE:                     I told Simon. It was nice to see him…tried to help him.

AMATA:               You made him a cannibal, didn’t you?

JAKE:                     Well it seemed like a good idea at the time.

VENDORBOT:     Good afternoon sir and ma’am, fine wares and exclusive trading available here.

AMATA:               Nothing to trade, just looking at the jobs board thanks. Oh! Look here…summer camp. That sounds fun.

JAKE:                     It sounds terrible. Screaming kids, snakes, sweltering heat and hiking.

AMATA:               Or we could just survive without caps or aid, last 15 minutes and end up back in hell…

JAKE:                     Sign me up! I can’t wait to make macaroni art.

SCENE 7: VAULT 69. BIRDS SINGING.

CHAD:                   Little bit! The Ch  -ad’s back!...oh man that’s a lot of dead bodies and paper bags.

SUSIE:                   Chaaaaaad! Ella and I missed you!

CHAD:                   Aww…I missed you too squirt. Look who I ran into! I want to introduce you to some old friends of mine. This big fella’s Moose. Don’t let his beard and hulking frame scare you. Beneath all the homicide he’s a teddy bear.

SUSIE:                   Oh I love teddy bears!

MOOSE:               Hey squirt! This big lug has been telling me all about you. Want to do the airplane?

SUSIE:                   WHEEE!!!! HE HE HEEE!!! Okay now put me down!

MOOSE:               Do the ai rplane! NEAAAARRRRROOOOWWWWWWWW!

SUSIE:                   I said put me down…

MOOSE:               Up and down we goooo! Ow! Shit! You stabbed me.

ELLA (V.O.):        We asked you to put us down! Now you have a frown! Tee hee!

CHAD:                   I told yah dude…she’s legit when it comes to combat. And this here is an old friend of mine…

PATSY:                  Uhmmm…excuse me…more than a friend. I was his girlfriend. But now Moose and I are going steady. Right you big lug?

SUSIE:                   Oh. His girlfriend huh?

ELLA (V.O.):        I’ve seen better fanny’s on the Goatsquatch! Tee hee!

PATSY:                  Excuse you???

SUSIE:                   Look Ella! She must be the kind of worn out tramp Daddy always said hung out down by the factories looking to earn some scratch.

PATSY:                  Why you little shit…come here…

GUNSHOTS AND RUNNING FEET.

CHAD:                   Our little family is complete!

SCENE 8: EXT. CAMP ENTRANCE. KIDS ARE HEARD LAUGHING.

  1. HANDY: Next. Next camper and guardian move to the front.

SIMON:                Uh yeah, I’m here for the counselor job?

  1. HANDY: First and last name only please.

SIMON:                Simon. Simon Rex.

  1. HANDY: Relevant experience and skills?

SIMON:                I’m sorry?

  1. HANDY: Aside from looking clueless, what special skills do you have?

SIMON:                I mean I’m Vault-Tec certified in animal calls…

  1. HANDY: Yes…anything else?

SIMON:                I also have awards for cleanest toilet…

  1. HANDY: Limited outdoors skills I see. Very well, I’ve assigned you to the boys camp on this side of the lake. Report to counselor’s hall for orientation. Your cabin will be F13.

SIMON:                Great thanks.

BRIAN:                  HEY T==HERE!

SIMON:                Ah Jesus…

BRIAN:                  Welcome to Ghoul Scouts at Camp Wannagrindalot fellow counselor! I’m Brian. Brian Williams. F13 huh? Me too! I’ve been here for 3 days already. Already got my backpack and 50 merit badges. Check it out! Check it out!

SIMON:                I’m Simon. You want to take it down maybe 30% there buddy? What is that lead lined?

BRIAN:                  Yup and refrigerated and made of ultralightweight aerospace materials. Here, have an iced cold Nuka Cola.

SIMON:                How much crap do you have in that thing?

BRIAN:                  Don’t worry newbie! With my help you’ll earn your backpack in no time. Here…here’s everything you have to do to get it and all these cool badges.

SIMON:                Jesus…this is…you did this in 3 DAYS???

BRIAN:                  Early bird and the worm my man! Come on, we’re going to be late for orientation. Don’t forget to put in your official uniform, necktie and shorts.

SIMON:                I hate shorts…it just opens more skin for this giant ass mosquitoes to grab on to.

BRIAN:                  Oh you shouldn’t swear. The staff frowns on that sort of behavior.

SIMON:                Right. Anything else fun that needs immediate stomping out?

BRIAN:                  Stick to curfew. Stay on the path…and keep your block and tackle out of the shallow end.

SIMON:                (Chokes on cola) I’m sorry?

BRIAN:                  Some of the guys are always heading off to the girls to get up to all sorts of sinful behavior. Unclean body…unclean mind. I don’t like dirty birdies…

SIMON:                Okie dokie…

BRIAN:                  Ah here we are! Cabin F13!

SIMON:                You ah…you sure have a lot of posters and heads on the wall.

BRIAN:                  Oh that’s my taxidermy collection. I’ve found all kinds of animals to mount. You ever been up to Van Lowe to see their mountings?

SIMON:                …umm…noooo.

BRIAN:                  See those heads up there? They are the best to collect. Yao Gaois, Radstags, even a Deathclaw! Ever seen one up close?

SIMON:                I have had the pleasure yes…

BRIAN:                  Here…you can have the bottom bunk.

BUGLE HORN. ANNOUNCER OVER COM.

HANDY NIA:       Attention. Attention. Counselors report to Counselor Hall for orientation on the double.

BRIAN:                  Oh! We’d better get a move on. Here’s your uniform.

SIMON:                Oof…this is silliest outfit. It’s a wonder my nuts don’t drop out of these short shorts.

BRIAN:                  Oh! I love nuts…especially salty ones.

SCENE 9: EXT. VAULT 69.

SOUNDS OF ROBOTIC WALKING APPROACHING.

SUSIE:                   …and I said, “Help! Help! My little brother fell in the old well!” When she bent over I put a grenade in her pocket and pushed her over.

ELLA (V.O.):        That Patsy sure is an airhead! Tee hee!

SUSIE:                   I wish she would stay dead…but at least we get to keep playing with her.

INSULT BOT:       Excuse me little whatever the hell you are, is the sir or madam of this residence at home?

SUSIE:                   Who are you?

INSULT BOT:       I have a bulk mail message and Insult-o-gram for this street and need to deliver it to the owner.

SUSIE:                   Well that’s our friend. He’s inside teaching a class. He’s having stupid people jump off boxes and trash cans for 2 hours.

INSULT BOT:       That’s great. Let’s head inside so you can point him out.

SUSIE:                   Alright then.

INSULT BOT:       Knock-knock.

SUSIE:                   Who’s there?

INSULT BOT:       Notyahmom.

SUSIE:                   Notyahmom who?

INSULT BOT:       Not yah mom because she’s dead. (drum hit)

ELLA (V.O.):        Let’s turn him into a lawn ornament! Tee hee!

SUSIE:                   He’s kind of an asshole Ella…but I wanna see what he brought.

SOUNDS OF GRUNTING AND JUMPING.

CHAD:                   Yeah that’s good. Wilkins your form sucks. You look like a Scorch railing a traffic cone.

MOOSE:               10 more reps and you maggots are going to do the 20-pound dross toss again.

PATSY:                  Fresh shakes! We’re running a special today on egg and grass goddess juice!

SUSIE:                   Ummm…this weird robot wants to talk to you.

CHAD:                   Not you again…

INSULT BOT:       Hey, did you know that light travels faster than sound. That’s why people like you appear bright until you hear them speak. (drum hit) Someone call the fire department.

MOOSE:               Let’s dismantle this pile of tin.

INSULT BOT:       Whoa! You have so many gaps in your teeth, it looks like your tongue is in jail. (drum hit) Off me and there are 15 robot pods in a 3-mile radius ready to make more of me.

CHAD:                   Cool it Moose. What’s the message?

INSULT BOT:       Initiating bulk mail subroutine. Insult-o-gram song engaged. Initiating playback.

(Harmonica sound)

The ghouls go marching one by one

Huzzah, huzzah

The ghouls go marching one by one

Huzzah, huzzah!

Oh the ghouls go camping one by one

The little ones need some summer fun

So come on on down to

(stop singing) Ghoul Camp at Crystal Lake.

Summer programs start at 500 caps. Offload your whiney brats for a few weeks so you can drink and remember what it’s like to enjoy your life.

Bulk Mail Insult-o-gram has been delivered.

SUSIE:                   ELLA! Summer camp!

ELLA (V.O.):        Summer camp sounds fun! There will be lots of people there to tickle my fanny! Tee hee!

CHAD:                   Uhh…look kiddo we only just starting milking these pleebs. I blew most of our caps on weaponry and gear.

SUSIE:                   But…does that mean…we can’t go??

MOOSE:               Want me off everyone here and we can raid some fools?

PATSY:                  Yeah…speaking on behalf of myself, it would be great to get rid of her for a few weeks so we can have some time to ourselves.

SUSIE:                   Hey Fatsy…want to play serial killer again?

PATSY:                  No! If I end up coming back to life one more time at Vault 76 again I’m gonna…

CHAD:                   Enough enough…we’ll russle up those 500 caps.

INSULT BOT:       Not that I care because I hate you all, but they are currently hiring staff at Ghoul Camp. Counselors get to bring one camper to participate for free.

SUSIE:                   Oh! You and me could go!

CHAD:                   Sure…that might be fun. I’ve never been campin’. We can sing songs, hike and throw flaming marshmallows at people.

SUSIE:                   Oh boy! This is going to be the best summer ever!

INSULT BOT:       What a beautiful moment. You all are so ugly, the last time you got a piece of ass was when your hands slipped through the toilet paper. (drum hit) Insult Bot out. Have a miserable day.

SOUNDS OF ROBOTIC WALKING DEPARTING.

CHAD:                   It’s settled. Get your gear kid, we’re headed to camp. Moose, you and Pats hold down the fort over the next few weeks. It’ll give you some time alone. Just keep an eye on our crops out back.

ELLA (V.O.):        Those aren’t the only things that are going to get plowed. Tee hee!

SUSIE:                   What?

SCENE 10: INT. COUNSELOR’S HALL.

STEWART:           Welcome to the grand reopening of Camp Wannagrindalot counselors! Before the Great War, this was one of the finest boys’ and girls’ camps in Appalachia. On the shores of pristine Crystal Lake and nestled among the majestic evergreens generations of this country’s upstanding citizens learned civic duty, leadership and acquired good moral character. Now, after Reclamation Day and with the help of some helpful 76ers, we were brought back online and can resume our mission of shaping these young ghoul scouts into self-assured, caring and well-rounded quasi humans with obvious skin conditions and no eyelids. But that’s okay because they’ll be Camp Wanna Wanna Wanna…Camp Wanna Wanna Grind Aloters!

SIMON:                Oh brother…

BRIAN:                  Shhhh! No talking when Scout Leaders are talking.

SIMON:                Man you’ve got a stick really far up your…

DOOR OPENS AND SLAMS.

JAKE:                     Uh sorry…are we in the right place?

AMATA:               Sorry for interrupting…this outfit is kind of tight and revealing…nothing in my size.

SIMON:                Holy shit…

BRIAN:                  Dirty dirty language…

STEWART:           Yes, yes. Find a seat counselors. We were just getting started.

JAKE:                     Simon?

SIMON:                Jake?

AMATA:               Simon?

SIMON:                Amata?

BRIAN:                  Whore…

AMATA:               What?

STEWART:           I said take a seat!

SIMON:                Jake…I…I don’t even know where to begin…

JAKE:                     We’re going to have a little chat later.

STEWART:           As I was saying. Some of you have heard the rumors and lore about this place. Well I’m here to quell any fears you have. Firstly, this camp was established by the Worrell’s to be a source of respite and fun. Unfortunately, a land dispute issues arose with their neighbor that ended in the brutal and unwarranted murder of Ernest Worrell in this very barn. The murderer was chased down and justice was done that very night…vigilante as it was. Unfortunately, the depth of the lake around the foot of Lover’s Leap is quite deep…so naturally retrieving the body of this vile monster was impossible. Since then, all sorts of silly rumors about a Sickleman wandering around lobbing heads off are complete fabrications. Secondly, rumors of this “bottle cap treasure” around here are nonsense tales told by travelling merchants selling fake maps to any gullible fool willing to part with caps in hopes of finding a horde. Do not, I repeat do not buy any of maps.

JAKE:                     So much for my last 15 caps.

AMATA:               I told you not to…

BRIAN:                  A Scout should always be healthy AND wise…

JAKE:                     Get a load of this guy?

SIMON:                Meet Brian.

AMATA:               I like your backpack Brian! Is there Nuka Cola in there?

BRIAN:                  (Hisses) I don’t like filthy girls.

AMATA:               Jeez…

STEWART:           Lastly, a few of our counselors have decided to abandon their duties and just disappear on us. Now I for one believe they simply decided to elope or found that Scout life isn’t for them, but because of police activity in the area, Commander Connor Johns of the New Responders is here to say a few things on that matter…against my programming I might add.

CMDR. JOHNS:  Thank you Scout Leader Stewart. As you know, myself, the 5-0 and all of the New Responders have been helping to get essential services up in the area, fire, medical and police. For the past few months however, we’ve been getting increasing reports of missing persons…too many to ignore. Because of this…and I must be 100% clear. Curfew is mandatory. 8:30pm. Inside, lights out. My officers are actively canvassing and patrolling the area and we are leveling hefty cap fines…

JAKE:                     Ummm excuse me, if you want to get caps outta me you’re going to have to stuff me with Nuka Colas first. I don’t have a cap to my name.

CMDR. JOHNS:  Ahem…anyone who CAN’T or WON’T pay the fines will be issued an arrest warrant. If you don’t come to us we’ll come for you.

AMATA:               Holy crap…

SIMON:                Right, so this guy’s badass. Wait till he meets Chad…

CMDR. JOHNS:  No skipping out on curfew. No problem. Before I concede the floor back to Scout Leader Stewart, I want to remind campers to stay out of the Old Miller Farm nearby. It is a no trespass zone and is incredibly unsafe inside.

AMATA:               Haunted more like. I’ve picked up some weird readings on my PipBoy from that place…

CMDR. JOHNS:  I for one applaud Mr. Simmons and some of the other teachers from Vault 76 who repaired the Mr. Handy’s and got this place up and running again. Keep your eyes open, report anything suspicious and above all…have fun!

STEWART:           Thank you Commander Connor Johns. Now for a few quick notes. Counselor duties and assignments are posted on the bulletin board over there. Campers will be arriving tomorrow, so we still have some last-minute cleaning and prep to do. At the end of the week is our usual Ookie Cookie Cookoff at Mama Dolce’s. Staff and scouts are encouraged to participate. The cabin that sells the most cookies will win some of our mysterious Repair and Scrap Kits. In a few weeks we’ll be holding our traditional canoe race with the girls camp across the lake….which also is off limits. We’ll be holding our first night mixer and bonfire tomorrow evening and I hope to see you all there with your Scout Spirit ready! Disssmissed!

SIMON:                Hey Amata…

AMATA:               Ugh…enough with the awkwardness already, come here you.

SIMON:                How’ve you been? Where’ve you been?

AMATA:               Oh…I’ll tell you some stories. How about you? Eat any good people lately?

JAKE:                     You just had to go there…

SIMON:                In all honesty…you did NOT taste like chicken…

JAKE:                     I’ll have you know PLENTY of people would love a taste of Jake thank you.

AMATA:               Some things never change.

SIMON:                No really in all honesty Jake…

JAKE:                     Forget it. Also…camp…yay

SIMON:                I know…I didn’t have any choice either. Needed the job.

AMATA:               Come on…let’s see what menial tasks we’ve been issued. Looks like I’m running A ring, the Muskrats…and am a lifeguard. Neat…I don’t know C.P.R., but at least I’ll get some a nice tan.

JAKE:                     C ring for me, the Wolves. Oh great…I’m in charge of campfire activities and also the talent show.

BRIAN:                  Hey guys! Look! I’m Assistant Scoutmaster and you’ll ALL be reporting directly to me!

SIMON:                Fantastic.

BRIAN:                  Oh look Simon! You’re running B ring, the Grizzlies and you’ll be running P.T. and the kitchen!

SIMON:                Two things I’m clearly suited for…or not.

BRIAN:                  Let’s go gang! We have work to do!

JAKE:                     So…how soon before we all eat that guy?

SCENE 11: EXT. CAMP ENTRANCE.

  1. HANDY: Next. Next camper and guardian move to the front.

CHAD:                   Oh hey robo hands. It’s me and Susie checkin’ in.

  1. HANDY: First and last name only please.

CHAD:                   Chad Johnson.

SUSIE:                   I’m Susie Davis…and this is Ella.

ELLA (V.O.):        Hi! I’m Ella! I’d ask you to tickle my fanny, but you only have claws. Tee hee!

  1. HANDY: That’s nice. 500 caps deposited please for enrollment.

CHAD:                   Uhh…I’m registering as a counselor.

  1. HANDY: Counselors for the boy’s camp on this side of the lake are no longer required. Do you have any experience with girls?

SUSIE:                   Oh, he loads of experience Mr. Handsy! He said he half the girls in the Wasteland he’s worn like a hat…

CHAD:                   Yeah…shhh he doesn’t need to hear all that.

  1. HANDY: Gross. I’ve assigned you as a counselor for the girl’s camp on the far side of the lake. Follow that path off to your left please. Check-in at Cabin A3. General assembly at the campfire ring at 1800 hours.

CHAD:                   Cool! Up high metal bro! Uh…come on dude…don’t leave me hanging.

  1. HANDY: Ugh…humans.

SCENE 12: EXT. ARCHERY RANGE

KAREN:                 Butch…cut it out. Don’t! (Laughs) I’m ticklish.

BUTCH:                 Yes…I know.

KAREN:                 Are you sure about sneaking out tonight?

BUTCH:                 Of course. We’re going to swing down that unused trail…circles right around the camp. No one will hear a single footstep.

KAREN:                 But that policeman said to stay out of that Old Miller Farm.

BUTCH:                 Yeah…they’re just trying to keep that treasure for themselves. I stashed a couple of flashlights in the rafters of the outhouse by the trailhead. We’ll poke around in the house for a few hours and head back lickity-split! No one will ever know we’re gone.

KAREN:                 Gee I dunno.

BUTCH:                 Imagine it…all the caps you could ever want!

KAREN:                 I don’t want to get into trouble or anything.

BUTCH:                 Tell you what. We’ll poke around for an hour…and if we don’t find any hidden doors, secret passages or the like…you and I will poke around for the other hour.

KAREN:                 Oh Butch! Is that all you think about?

BUTCH:                 It is with you.

KAREN:                 Smooth…real smooth. Okay, I need to be cleaning out the canoes. I’ll see you tonight. (Kiss) Love you.

BUTCH:                 Love you too babe.

BRIAN:                  Okay…here we are. What’s your name again?

BUTCH:                 Butch. Butch Miller.

BRIAN:                  Right. Butch. We need to clean up some of the weeds in the archery range here and put fresh targets up. Stay out of the archery hut though…just painted it. Can you do that big guy!

BUTCH:                 Sure.

BRIAN:                  Oh come on. Let’s hear that Camp Wannagrindalot spirit!

BUTCH:                 YEAH!

BRIAN:                  That’s better. Also…one last thing. I SAW you with Karen Adams in the lifeguard shack.

BUTCH:                 How about you keep your eyes to yourself. Or did you see something you like?

BRIAN:                  It’s filthy. If I see any of that hanky panky going on again, I’ll report it to Scout Leader Stewart and request your discharge without pay.

BUTCH:                 Look here…I…nevermind. I need the caps. Whatever. You won’t catch me again.

BRIAN:                  Swell buddy! Here’s your hoe. Get at it!

FOOTSTEPS WALK AWAY. CICADAS SING. THRASHING OF WEED IS HEARD.

BUTCH:                 What a pain in the ass lameoid. Easy caps I said to myself. Spend the summer kicking back and catching some sun I said. This place is the skids.

A BOARD CREAKS.

BUTCH:                 Hello?

BOARD CREAKS AGAIN. KILLER NOISE IS HEARD.

BUTCH:                 Anyone there? Who’s in there?

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

BUTCH:                 Oh hey…who are…oh no! No please! AHHHH!

SICKLE SLASHES THROUGH THE AIR AND THE HEAD IS LOBBED OFF.

SCENE 13: INT. GIRLS CAMP CABIN.

  1. HANDY: Here we are. Cabin A3. You’ll be in here camper and you can follow me over to the counselor’s cabin.

SUSIE:                   This place is gross. It smells like pee and the mattress looks like someone was murdered on it.

CHAD:                   It’s all part of that authentic summer camp experience!

ELLA (V.O.):        Now that’s a mattress that even I will get Swamp Itch on! Tee hee!

CHAD:                   It’ll be cool. The food should be good. Later we’ll make some s’mores and stuff and hide radscoprians in people’s sleeping bags.

SUSIE:                   Oh boy!

  1. HANDY: Let’s go counselor! Up and at ‘em! We don’t give free rides arounds here.

CHAD:                   I’m comin’ I’m comin’…I’m gonna torch this place before we leave.

SCENE 14: EXT. BOY’S CAMP CAMPFIRE RING.

SIMON:                My feet are killing me.

JAKE:                     Your feet? What about my arms? You try cutting half a cord of campfire wood in an afternoon.

AMATA:               So the beachfront area was disgusting. I had to help Scout Leader Hawkins clean up toxic waste. I think I still have some in my hair…

JAKE:                     Yeah…ummm…did you notice you have talons now?

AMATA:               Yeah I think it’s some kind of random genetic mutation. Hopefully should clear up after I get some RadAway.

JAKE:                     So…probably not going to offer any hot counselors a Mr. Handy until then?

AMATA:               You and your mixed signals…

JAKE:                     What?

AMATA:               Nothing.

SIMON:                Pass me another one of those hot dogs dude…mine caught fire.

MARY:                  Well hey there fellow counselors! I sure can’t wait until those bright, smiling slightly puss covered faces show up tomorrow!

BRIAN:                  Hey there Mary Ann Belts!

MARY:                  Hey there Brian!

BRIAN:                  Your camp spirit sure is showing!

JAKE:                     Those two were made for each other…

SIMON:                Is this all of us? Where’s that other dude? Butch I think his name was?

BRIAN:                  He didn’t have the Camp Wannagrindalot spirit. He split earlier today.

MARY:                  He had what I like to call Roman Hands and Russian Fingers.

AMATA:               Oh brother…

BRIAN:                  (Laughs) Oh Mary! That was a great joke. You should tell that at our talent show!

MARY:                  Yes…I was going to play my yukelele and sing traditional folk ballads.

BRIAN:                  That sounds swell!

JAKE:                     I can’t wait to hear the audition.

KAREN:                 Hey everybody! Did you guys see Butch? He promised to show me the Big Dipper.

SIMON:                I’ll bet.

BRIAN:                  I’m sorry to say Karen that Butch left. There is a note on the bulletin board. He decided the scouting experience he just couldn’t wrap his head around.

KAREN:                 But that can’t be true…all his stuff is still in his cabin. Do you think he’s gone missing?

BRIAN:                  I told you not to worry about it.

JAKE:                     Yeah maybe he noticed how many merit badges ol’ Brian here had and realized he could never, ever grind for them all.

KAREN:                 Well I don’t like it one bit. I’m going to report it to Scout Leader Stewart. I’ll catch up you guys later.

BRIAN:                  It takes dedication, a clear head and a clean spirit to achieve all of them.

MARY:                  I couldn’t agree more Brian! Say! Let’s have a sing-a-long right now to end the day with a little Campa Wannagrindalot spirit!

SIMON:                How about we don’t?

BRIAN:                  That’s the tops Mary!

MARY STARTS PLAYING HER YUKELELE.

MARY:                  Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya

Kumbaya, my Lord, kumbaya

Oh, Lord, kumbaya (oh, Lord, kumbaya)

AMATA:               Oh lord indeed. I’m going to shower this glowing goo out of my hair.

JAKE:                     Mind the outdoor shower. That Workshop Willy dude is always looking for a good peep show.

AMATA:               Nah, he’s busy spending the caps you paid for that treasure map drawn in crayon you bought.

SIMON:                Good night Amata.

BRIAN JOINS IN AND SINGS WITH MARY.

Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya

Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya

Someone's cryin', Lord, kumbaya

Oh, Lord, kumbaya (oh, Lord, kumbaya)

SIMON:                Okay…that’s quite enough of that. Good night Jake.

JAKE:                     Oh hell no…you’re not leaving me here with these two. Wait up!

MARY/BRIAN:   Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya

Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya

Someone's singin', Lord, kumbaya

Oh, Lord, kumbaya (oh, Lord, kumbaya)

SCENE 15: INT. COUNSELORS HALL. SLAMMING SCREEN DOOR. EVERYTHING IS EERILY QUIET.

KAREN:                 Hello? Scout Leader Stewart? Is anyone there?

HAWKINS:           Hey! Who is that?

KAREN:                 Karen Adams…who are you?

HAWKINS:           Oh…phew. Officer Hawkins, 5-0.

KAREN:                 What are you doing in here?

HAWKINS:           Honestly? I hate coffee and donuts with a passion. Commander Johns won’t let me have Nuka Cola Quantum while I’m on duty. He finds the fact that your pee glows for a week after drinking it concerning…think it affects my judgement.

KAREN:                 Oh we have loads in the fridge…wait….have you been sneaking some?

HAWKINS:           Oh please don’t report it. I leave extra caps in the cafeteria till. I’ve been patrolling the area for 5 nights straight. It’s the only thing that keeps me up.

KAREN:                 Well…your secret is safe with me.

HAWKINS:           You…ah…you’re real pretty.

KAREN:                 Oh…umm…thanks.

HAWKINS:           Would you…umm…would you maybe like to go for a walk or something sometime?

KAREN:                 Oh…I mean I’m already seeing someone.

HAWKINS:           Oh…ah…okay. Yeah no. Foolish of me to ask.

KAREN:                 Sorry.

HAWKINS:           I mean it’s not like we don’t put it all out on the line every day for you guys.

KAREN:                 What?

HAWKINS:           You, I mean most of you just left the Vault and decided…hey! I know what’ll be fun…shooting people in the nuts, or getting high and blowing up cars and people’s homes…

KAREN:                 I don’t…

HAWKINS:           Yeah…you kids. All you do is cause trouble. Bang whatever is available. But you know what? You pick the WORST people. Just the WORST.

KAREN:                 You’re scaring me…

HAWKINS:           Oh you should be scared. He’s out there you know. The Sickleman…he’s been waiting a long time. I’d keep my nose clean if I were you. They should’ve NEVER opened this place back up.

KAREN:                 Get away from me!

RUNNING AWAY. SOUNDS OF BEING CHASED. SHE SLAMS AND LOCKS A DOOR.

HAWKINS:           Hey where are you goin? I was just fooling? Come on…I can’t let you report this…you hear?

KAREN IS BREATHING HARD. FOOTSTEPS LEAD AWAY. SLOWLY KAREN UNLOCKS AND OPENS THE DOOR.

KAREN:                 Hello?

HER FOOTSTEPS ECHO DOWN THE HALL.

A DOOR IS HEARD OPENING AND CLOSING.

KAREN:                 You stay away from me. I AM going to report you. You’re crazy.

RUNNING FOOTSTEPS ARE HEARD SWIFTLY APPROACHING.

KAREN:                 No! Oh my god! No! AHHHH!

SICKLE SLASH IS HEARD. HEAD ROLLS ON THE FLOOR.

OUTRO. END OF PART 1.

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