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 / Raider
- Kenneth Vigue ~ Simon Rex
- SPECIAL GUEST: Andreas Somville ~ Mr. Dark
- SPECIAL GUEST: Blake Johnson ~ The Beckley Butcher / The Demon Clown
- Paul M Watson ~ Jake White
- Taylor Jinx Knight ~ Amata Hayes
- Clint Winberry ~ Moose Miller
- Peter Anthony Buxton ~ The Carnival Barker Handy / Ice Man
- Christian Mower ~ Punch, Mr. Handy
- Jessica Marie Dickey ~ Patsy Parker , Girl #1
- Jessica Duval ~ Susie/Ella, Amanda, The Dust Witch
- Kevin Chenard ~ Mr. Cooger
- Dr. Mark Hauswirth ~ Slick Willy
- Logan Hauswirth: Young Simon
KEN: This is Kenneth Vigue. I’m an October 29th baby, so Halloween for me has been more than just a holiday. It’s a dark calling and in my veins, born in New England, Halloween has always pumped with candy corn and caramel bull’s eye’s and a chill crispness with the scent of wet leaves. It should come as no surprise then that Ray Bradbury is one of my favorite authors. But growing up in the 80s when I roamed the streets of that seaport town of Newburyport with the swishing of my finest K-Mart Caspar costume or the fluttering devilry of my Dracula cape in later years, I was introduced to Mr. Bradbury through television. I listened and watched as Leonard Nemoy himself as the cunning Mister Moundshroud took cartoon children on a Halloween adventure in the tv movie, “The Halloween Tree”. Later, on the Disney Channel, when Disney used to take children to dark places more so than today, I saw what became my favorite Bradbury tale of all time, “Something Wicked This Way Comes.” It is a story that explores the fathomless depths of the human heart, of the transition from wide eyed and innocent youth to the burdened longing and regret of adulthood. On those Halloweens when my feet didn’t touch the floor, I would sit with my grandmother and munch away on my gotten gains from a pillowcase and we’d watch them both. On Halloweens and on many days I miss her deeply. This story is a love letter to both the costumed child inside all of us still gleefully skipping into the darkness and to my grandmother who whispers now only on the autumn wind reminding me to never let go of that little boy’s hand. The cast of CHAD: A Fallout 76 story proudly present, “Halloween in October Country.”
SCENE 1: EXT. STREETS OF BECKLEY. – HALLOWEEN NIGHT. 2076
SFX: HALLOWEEN AMBIANCE. WHISPERING LEAVES. KIDS YELLING TRICK OR TREAT.
SFX: WALKING.
GIRL #1: Come ON Amanda, don’t be such a stick in the mud.
AMANDA: I look ridiculous. Why can’t we stay in and just pop some corn and watch Night of the Fish Men’s Revenge?
GIRL #1: And miss out on THE party of the year? Come on! We haven’t seen Dick since he went off to Vault-Tec U. His parents are vacationing in Berkeley Springs…so we’ll have the whole house to ourselves. He brought some frat buddies home from Eta Psi.
AMANDA: So what? I doubt any of THOSE guys are going to see a freckled girl with glasses in a short skirt and dumb hat and say, “Step aside fellas…that sexy witch is mine.”
GIRL #1: (Laughs) You’re not giving yourself enough credit Debbie Downer. You look cute! Besides the way world is, you never know if we’ll even have another Halloween. For all we know we’ll be spending the next one in Vault 76.
AMANDA: Have you seen those Vault suits? My ass is going to look huge.
SFX: HALLOWEEN MUSIC IS HEARD.
GIRL #1: Well damn! They really went all out! Look at this place. (Laughs) Look at that Mister Handy painted like a pumpkin. That’s great.
HANDY: Happy Halloween bitches! HA HA HAAAAAAA!
AMANDA: I think they got cute and reprogrammed it.
SFX: CRACK NOISE.
AMANDA: Oh god damn it!
GIRL #1: What’s wrong?
AMANDA: Stupid heel got stuck in that sewer grate. Snapped my heel off.
GIRL #1: Come ON Amanda. Who cares? Take them off…let’s get our spook on!
AMANDA: I am not going barefoot at a frat party. They’ll be doing keggers and the floor is going to be all sticky. There’s a little store over a few streets, I’ll just grab some glue. You go ahead…
GIRL #1: You HAD BETTER not bail on me! And watch out for the Beckley Butcher! Wooooo!! (Laughs)
AMANDA: No…I promise. You be good.
GIRL #1: I won’t! (Laughs)
SFX: WALKING. LEAVES WHISPER.
AMANDA: Let’s go out Amanda. It’ll be fun Amanda. God, I hate Halloween.
SFX: WALKING. EERIE WIND BLOWS DOWN STREET. A FEW HAUNTING ORGAN NOTES ARE ON IT.
AMANDA: Hello? Is someone there? (Pause) Good job Amanda…now you’re talking to yourself. That’s the sure hallmark of a sad loser.
SFX: ORGAN MUSIC DRIFTS ON THE WIND AGAIN.
AMANDA: That’s weird…I smell…cotton candy and fried dough? Sal’s Grinders must be doing a street carnival? No…it’s coming from the woods.
SFX: HAUNTING VOICES CALL ON THE WIND.
SFX: EERIE CLOWN LAUGHTER.
AMANDA: Hello?
BUTCHER: The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out…
AMANDA: Who is that?
BUTCHER: The worms play pinochle on your snout (clown laugh)
AMANDA: I….I’ve got a gun!
BUTCHER: I’ll EAT your eyes, I’ll gobble your nose…
The Butcher will make his jelly with your toes
AMANDA: Oh, no! No!
SFX: RUNNING.
AMANDA: (Screaming) Helppp! It’s the Butcher! No! Dead end…help! Open the door!
SFX: DOOR POUNDING. CHAIN RATTLING.
BUTCHER: Don’t ever laugh as a hearse goes by…
SFX: KNIFE DRAGGING ON BRICK.
AMANDA: (Crying) No! No, please!
BUTCHER: For YOU may be the next to die (evil insane laugh)
DARK: Good evening.
BUTCHER: 1 for 2, 2 for 3…lucky, lucky me…
DARK: (Disdain) The Beckley Butcher. How quaint. How, if you will pardon me, unimaginatively alliterative.
AMANDA: Please mister! Help me!
DARK: And I shall. The hour grows late and this one, is not for you. Off with you.
BUTCHER: (Insane laugh) Silly, silly man…don’t you see what I am…I paint with knife and laugh them to the grave. Let me show you…. (laughter)
SFX: SCUFFLE. BLADE STABS.
AMANDA: Oh my God! Are you okay mister?
DARK: (Whispering quiet) You embarrass me. The blade barely registers a tickle….JEFF. You people…you’re always a Jeff or a Charles…the basest of names but I see right through you.
BUTCHER: (Whispering) I…I stabbed you…
DARK: (Whispering) The lost boy, tossed to the streets and the wind…a bastard living amongst society’s refuse and your kin, the rats of Beckley. Touched only by fists from drunkards and dullards, and by others in other places considered inviolate by the chaste.
BUTCHER: (On the verge of tears) (Quietly) You…I’ve been waiting for you. I heard you calling…I always hear your music.
DARK: (Whispering) I will come for you when I think you are ready. Until then, leave my sight.
AMANDA: Help! Help!
SFX: PUNCH TO THE FACE.
DARK: (Louder) Leave now! She IS NOT FOR YOU!
SFX: RUNNING.
DARK: There. That business is concluded. Are you alright my dear?
AMANDA: Yes…you…you saved me. That was the Beckley Butcher. I was so scared…
DARK: Well that is, I believe, the appropriate reaction on All Hollow’s Eve.
AMANDA: (Nervous laugh) Well that’s certainly true. Love the costume…classic ringmaster with the hat and cane. Thank you so much. You saved my life.
DARK: It appears that you have suffered from a guising mishap.
AMANDA: A what?
DARK: Your shoe my dear. I think perhaps that it in its current state it makes this particular witch so much less an imposing figure. This night, after all, belongs to your sisters, long since lost beneath crushing stone or burned to ash upon a pyre while cold and hungry eyes look on. You do them, I think, a disservice.
AMANDA: Well…what’s it to you anyway? Accidents happen mister…
DARK: Dark.
AMANDA: Pardon?
DARK: My name is Mr. Dark.
AMANDA: Yes, well accidents happen…so apparently do sewer grates. Look I’m sorry…thank you but I’m going home. This night has been awful.
DARK: Mmm…funny little word accident. We throw it about so casually now, like a youth who throws salt upon an icy walkway who could care less for the fragile bones of parent or elder. So sloppy, so haphazard. But at its ancient root when the calendar prefix once read 13 instead of 20, it did not mean disaster or doom, it meant an occurrence, incident or event that comes by chance.
AMANDA: Well then, an EVENT happened that led to me running for my life down an alley. When I could have been at home or at lease awkwardly standing in the corner of a party drinking…ALONE and not seen by anyone.
DARK: AH! There. Right. There. Seen. Yes, exactly. Here is where the threads weave together, if you but open your mind. The word accident in Latin is accidat from a phrase where the word now conjures up images of disaster and doom. Si quid cui accidat, which translates to, “if anything should happen to one.”
AMANDA: Look I need to get to the store before it closes mister.
DARK: The shop lights have gone out already Amanda. Two streets over, where shopkeeper Mr. Charles Worthy is making himself less so, as he fumbles behind the corner in the dark with his assistant behind the dirty, dirty counter. All the while his sick wife, who has been so for more years than he has patience for, sits waiting at home, staring at the clock waiting for medicine that is sitting on that dirty, dirty counter.
AMANDA: How…how did you know my name? I never said my name.
DARK: But that phrase, spoken on the lips of robed philosopher and lusty concubine was a euphemism. To die.
AMANDA: You…you’re scaring me.
DARK: To die. To see. To be seen. You, Amanda, are a radiant stamen inside a bulb not yet bloomed. In lonely corners you look out at thrusting jocks, babbling blondes, at teachers getting too casual and lecherous cads surreptitiously slipping something dreadful into the drinks of an intended. You see them, and yet you are blind to your own shadow and to what lies at your shuffling, fumbling feet. That…is a telling tragedy.
AMANDA: Who are you?
DARK: PAH! Three simple words as common as butter on bread. They die on your lips because they come from your fumbling feet. You can do better. Speak from where you see, or I have no time for you.
AMANDA: What…what do you want from me?
DARK: THERE! A petal peeks open and there is a sliver of that radiant dark beauty of the ebony rose blooming at night. It’s about WANT isn’t it? Come closer.
SFX: BUTTONS UNBUTTONED.
AMANDA: What are you doing?
DARK: I want you to see what I can show, use your mind’s eye to see beyond flesh, beyond blood and marrowed bone to the soul itself and then one step further. Look, look here…come close…
AMANDA: On your chest…tattoos.
DARK: (Disdain) Tattoos. This century has abbreviated words of power and distilled them down to trivial conversation bytes that have neither weight nor true meaning. I am Mr. Dark, the Illustrated Man…and look through…what do you see?
AMANDA: I…I see…a road…no…the road is moving…that’s impossible…how are you doing that?
DARK: Look beyond the hills, what lies just there.
AMANDA: I see…an old time carnival! With a Ferris wheel…and jugglers…a haunted house ride and a mirror maze!
DARK: Yes…and there?
AMANDA: A midway! Oh, I can smell the popcorn, the sizzling sausages and fried dough…
DARK: The teeth sticky warmth of the caramel apples on sticks of ash skewered through pippins the color of blood amongst glittering games of chance! LOOK! See further!
AMANDA: There’s…a wagon, an ancient wagon, older than the carnival…from another era…the door is open….
SFX: THRUMMING SOUND AND A WIND WHIPS UP.
MEDIA: DARK ORCHESTRATION BUILDS.
DARK: (Manic, wild) INSIDE! Beyond weathered door with peeling flecks of paint the color of bone…what is there? LOOK! LOOK!
AMANDA: That’s…that’s…me? What is happening? NO! NO! (Screaming, a lot of it through Dark’s binding)
DARK: SHE is the DUST WITCH, bound to the earth, shackled by the Fates, BLIND and yet SHE SEEEESSSSS! Taste the ages as dead as forgotten tomes…the raven hair of youth! Oh see it change as it sees to the last chapters. The flames and madness! In Pandemonium you will dance with us in dust and darkness.
AMANDA: (Screaming that fades to a high-pitched keening wail)
SFX: A SOUNDLESS EXPLOSION AND CONCUSSION BLOWS TRASH CANS AND LEAVES. THE WIND FADES.
SFX: BUTTONS ====ARE REFASTENED.
DARK: (Singing the litany, but slower and haunting like a funeral dirge: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F34cfgsaDNI)
O’Reilly is dead and O’Reilly don’t know it,
O’Reilly is dead and O’Reilly don’t know it,
They’re both lying dead in the very same bed,
And neither one knows that the other is dead.
Hum hum hum hum.
SFX: ECHOING FOOTSTEPS THAT SUDDENLY STOP. WIND BLOWS.
MEDIA: OPENING THEME.
SCENE 2: EXT. PUMPKIN HOUSE – NIGHT
SFX: PUMPKIN CARVING NOISES.
SIMON (VO): Appalachia, October 30th, 57 degrees Fahrenheit. Clear night sky with a full moon. A week till Halloween and I have setup a temporary shelter near the Pumpkin House, a pre-war local attraction of some repute. Every October they would line street front and porch rail, step and awning with pumpkins, delicately carved with everything from Vault Boy’s to the traditional spooky face with spiked teeth and leering eyes. I’ve been feeling…off since my misadventure in Helvetia. I haven’t been sleeping well and when I do I keep having the same dream. I’m back in the vault, 12 years old again…Jake and Amata by my side. We’re dressed for trick or treating and cheering as a parade marches by. Slowly, the parade changes…to an old-time carnival and side show. Clomping, tired looking elephants and clowns and freaks of all kinds. I start to cry as they become more and more deformed and…just wrong. The end of the parade starts to pass by and some of them are carrying a coffin. On top of it…on top of it…is a man in an old black suit with coattails and a shiny black hat perched on top of his head. As he approaches me, the more I cry, the more he laughs. Louder and longer. I watch as the skin around his mouth splits like broken earth that hasn’t tasted rain in eons. There’s no blood…and I think there hasn’t been in a long time. His skin flakes off in pieces and strips and turns to dust and with long skeleton-like hands he unbuttons vest and shirt and there’s…there’s a desiccated skeleton underneath, the skin and muscle just gone, but with a dusty ribcage exposed. I cry and scream and he…he enjoys it. He reaches down and quickly, decidedly snaps first one rib and then another, the noise like a gun shot. Snap….snap….snap…he beckons me and I shuffle forward. I can’t stop. He’s nothing but a bleached skeleton now, his shell blown away on the wind and inside him…inside him is nothing. A black so black it hurts my mind. I am screaming now, my throat burning and before I can turn and run, he grabs me and pushes me inside and I fall, screaming into that dark. (Pause) I always wake up screaming, clothes soaked through with sweat. On the road for the past few weeks I keep looking over my shoulder because I feel like something is just behind me. So, I decided to stop here…and wait. What could it mean?
SFX: TAPE STOPS.
HANDY: Welcome to the Pumpkin House, one of the most popular attractions in Appalachia. I'm Jack, the caretaker here!
SIMON: You’re not even listening to me, are you?
HANDY: Oh yes, indeed, it’s good to have a purpose.
SIMON: I mean I could say practically anything…
HANDY: There’s no such thing as too many pumpkins.
SIMON: Uh huh. Look how many more of these Jack O’ Lanterns do you need…Jack?
HANDY: It can't be called the Pumpkin House without more pumpkins!
(Singing) Trick or treat!
Trick or treat!
Trick or treat for Hall-o-weeeeeen!
SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.
SLICK WILLY: Hey heeyyyyyy howdy fellas!
HANDY: Where are my manners? Welcome to the Pumpkin House, one of the most popular attractions in Appalachia. I'm Jack, the caretaker here!
SIMON: Good evening.
SLICK WILLY: It sure is, isn’t it? Whew! Gonna take a load off for a hot minute.
SFX: CLATTERING MEATL AS BAG IS DROPPED.
SLICK WILLY: Just the uhh….just the two of you here sonny?
SIMON: For now. Sometimes some Dwellers show up to take pictures or run around the pumpkin patch and then chuck pumpkins at Jack there.
SLICK WILLY: Well sir…you ahh….you got any caps?
SIMON: I did, but I was tricked into buying a white wolf fedora off some grifter.
SLICK WILLY: Son you got right rogered with your pants on! HOOOO WHEEEE! Boy, what’s your name?
SIMON: Simon. Simon Rex.
SLICK WILLY: Ignatius Willard is the name.
SIMON: Your voice…sounds familiar.
SLICK WILLY: Uh huh…ah yup. No caps, you say?
SIMON: That is what I said yes.
SLICK WILLY: Hmmm…got a birthday comin’ up?
SIMON: What does…yeah…come to think of it. October 30th. Almost was a Halloween baby, but I missed it by one minute.
SLICK WILLY: Hmmm. Well I’ll tell you what, here…
SFX: BAG UNZIPPED. METAL CLATTERS.
SLICK WILLY: Take this, free! Now before your jaw drops to your unmentionables, Ol’ Willy has a simple why. Them radstorms bring a lightning the which the old world never saw. Way I see it, is you be struck by it…BANG! Fire and ash, roast poke and cinders you become…OR you can be the lightning.
SIMON: What is that?
SLICK WILLY: This here is a Tesla Rifle and she has a name. I call her Night Light, which would’ve helped Ol’ Willy when he found himself gropin’ around that Las Vegas whorehouse back in the day and got a handful of grapes. (Laughs)
SIMON: Boy, it’s heavy! And funny-looking. I’ve never seen a rifle like this. But you scratched up the casing here, what is that?
SLICK WILLY: That there is a scarab. Didn’t you learn about the Egyptians in that Vault boy? The scarab is a symbol of resurrection.
SIMON: But why? Why carve it on this?
SLICK WILLY: Why??? Why??? Boy the last time I saw eyes that haunted was when my Army buddy came back from Thailand. You’ve tasted death, haven’t ye? A thunderclap to the chest…lightning in your veins as the last gasp of yah lights up bright in the dark and then fades out.
SIMON: Yes.
SLICK WILLY: Lightning and death. Thunder and pain, boy. You can stand like an oak in the middle of a field or you can be lightning yourself. Mind Ol’ Slick Willy.
SFX: BAG ZIPPED. CLATTERED BACK TO SHOULDER.
SLICK WILLY: And happy early birthday kid.
SIMON: Thank you. I don’t know what to say.
SLICK WILLY: I do. A storm is comin’ boy. Tonight and it won’t be no ordinary storm. What rides on its tails are darkness in clouds the likes of which haven’t been here in a long time.
SIMON: Tonight?
SLICK WILLY: That’s what I said. I’m on my way. Remember boy, you can be the tree or the lightning. Be the tree and BAMM! The caps you’ve been lying about not havin’ in yer pocket will be fused and melted. Any boy hit by lightning if you look into his melted eyeballs you’ll see the last thing he ever saw, a flash of the almighty and a soul sucked off to that purgatory. You be ready, you here? Well I’m off. I have to drain the snake (laughs)
SIMON: Thanks again. Bye!
SFX: TAPE RECORDING STARTS.
SIMON: (sighs) I’ve been thinking about fall and how for so very long it has been a season that symbolized the twilight of life and as Halloween approaches, that boundary between fall (life) and winter(death) is the thinnest part of the veil between both. Back in the Vault the Overseer would throw an annual pumpkin carving contest of our own and we hang the pumpkins off the trees in the atrium, creating Halloween trees. Pumpkins carved well, at night lit with flickering candle can be terrifying, but nothing compared to traditional type. Carved turnips with faces like mummies…images of them in the library archives are nightmare fuel. They have always been used to ward away darkness and evil from…
SFX: LONG, HAUNTING STEAM WHISTLE.
SIMON: What the hell is that?
SFX: WAILING STEAM WHISTLE AND A FEW NOTES FROM A CALLIOPE. WIND KICKS UP.
HANDY: Oh, no! Our Jack o’ lanterns are blowing out!
SIMON: Do you hear that? It sounds like…a train whistle. Listen?
SFX: WIND DIES DOWN. NIGHT AMBIANCE. SILENCE.
SIMON: Strange…I could’ve sworn…anyway, I’m done with this one. Enjoy.
HANDY: As usual, many thanks for your service. As promised, here are your seeds.
SIMON: Radioactive seeds. Great. Thanks. I’m going to bed.
SFX: TAPE TRANSITION.
SCENE 3: EXT. BROFIT HAUNTED MAZE – NIGHT
SFX: HAMMERING NOISES.
CHAD/SUSIE: (Singing together https://youtu.be/q2rjEUpmzow)
Or on some dark and stormy night, while the tempest blows,
If someone whistles,
SUSIE (just): Meow!
CHAD/SUSIE: That's Mysterious Mose!
He sees all, he knows all, he gets in everywhere,
Some night, he might wait for you upon the stair!
So when you're going down the cellar, walk upon your toes,
And if someone whistles,
SUSIE (just): Whoooooo!
CHAD/SUSIE: That's Mysterious Mose!
PUNCH: Chode where you want meat bag leftovers?
CHAD: Meat bag leftovers? Oh! That’s a skeleton bro! Put it in down that way towards that spooky ass inflatable snowman.
PUNCH: Punch hate clowns. Stupid clowns…good meat with greasy yuck paint…
SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.
CHAD: There. What do you think ankle biter? Can you read that? Remember to sound it out. Take your time…like a cheerleader.
SUSIE: Ummm… B-R-O….Bro. F-I-I…no T. Fit. Bro Fit. H-a-u-n-t-e-d. M-a-z-e. Haunted Maze. BroFit Haunted Maze.
CHAD: Yup! This will be great. All the plebes get all sad, weird and hungry to buy up all kinds of pumpkin spice crap. They’ll be decking their camps out all sad about how it used to be back in the vault. So this week before Halloween we can bank camps with our sweet ass haunted maze! We’ll make a killing!
MOOSE: Hey bro! How’s this look?
CHAD: What is that?
MOOSE: I took some of those punji boards we used to use back in the gym in our git gud pit of death and made a stack of them.
CHAD: Great. Why?
MOOSE: We can like…wait till they’re deep in the maze and then I’ll throw it at them!
CHAD: Dude. No.
MOOSE: What? Why?
CHAD: Because that’s lame and we can do better. Wait till you see the trap door into the bloatfly pit I made. Works like a mint! We’ll rake in caps AND junk!
PATSY: Moose can you tie this for me?
MOOSE: Sure babe! It’s uhhh….a little open in the front here. Showin’ a little stomach. Makin’ me feel funny.
PATSY: Thanks! I’m like a road trip trophy wife. Isn’t it spooky?
MOOSE: What’s spooky about it?
PATSY: Like, I off my corporate husband in an insurance scheme and head off to Florida.
SUSIE: Chaaaad? Are we ready! I want to scare the people now!
CHAD: Well now hold on eager beaver. Go plug your sign in. Shows that we’re open.
SUSIE: Yayyyy!
ELLA: Let’s play evil children in the corn! Slice and dice ain’t it nice? Tee hee!
SFX: ELECTRICAL SNAP. NEON NOISE.
PATSY: Heya! Who messed with my fruit punch?
SUSIE: (Laughing)
PATSY: Stay out of my stuff you little weirdo!
MOOSE: Come on Pats…let’s go make out behind the rows. We can get our spook on when we get some vic…err…customers.
SFX: WALKING.
SUSIE: Do you think we’ll wait long?
CHAD: Who knows? Sometimes you gotta wait. Here, scoot on up here on this crate with me. We gotta finish carvin’ our pumpkins.
SFX: CRATE DRAGGED.
ELLA: Tickle my fanny! Tickle my fanny! I don’t feel so well. Tee.
CHAD: Want a pop?
SUSIE: Yeah!
CHAD: Here. Just one, I don’t want you bouncing off the walls or chasing Patsy with a switchblade all night.
SFX: SODA OPENED.
SUSIE: Ella and I love October. It’s our favoritest month of the year! It’s better than birthdays, Thanksgiving or Christmas!
CHAD: Yeah, I was also partial to it myself. We use to raise hell back in the vault, Moose, Patsy and me.
SUSIE: Did you play games? Mommy and Daddy used to take us to the fancy pants place with all the big houses along the river. There was a nice lady, Ms. Rivers who would throw big Halloween parties with lots of games! Candy apples and nummy cider donuts. Yum yum.
CHAD: October is a great month when you’re a kid, even in the vault. September sucks balls…it’s when school started. August was pretty good…lot of soccer and baseball matches in the atrium. July was good…no school, 4th of July parade and stuff. June was great because school would be done and we had all summer to fuck around and hang out. But October? Halloween was the best…tricks or treats, costume parties, bobbin’ for applebags. There’s no month like October. Watch your knife now…your pumpkin’s mouth is gonna look funny.
SUSIE: What’s that?
CHAD: What’s what?
SUSIE: Do you hear it? It sounds like….music.
CHAD: Huh. That’s weird. Wonder where that’s comin’ from.
SFX: FOOTSTEPS.
PUNCH: Stupid flatable man. Punch put down…go BOOM! Clown started laughing at Punch. Punch smash!
CHAD: Shhh…hang on dude. Listen.
PUNCH: Punch no hear….ohhhh….bad noise. BAD NOISE!
CHAD: What do you mean bad noise?
SUSIE: Look! There’s someone coming up the road.
DARK: (Whistling) I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
Their words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men!
CHAD: I want the name of that dude’s dealer. He’s whistling Christmas carols in October.
ELLA: By the pricking of my thumbs….something wicked this way comes. Something wicked….something. Fanny. Tickle. Wicked. Too. Much. Fanny. Something wicked. Something….sleep. Sleep. Sleepppppyyyyy.
SFX: ELECTRICAL SHORT.
SUSIE: Ella? Ella? What’s wrong?
CHAD: That weirdo is throwing papers or something in the air.
PUNCH: Bad! Bad! Bad man! Run awayyyyy! AHHHHHH!
SFX: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.
CHAD: Punch! What the fuck dude?
SUSIE: Ella, wake up!
DARK: (Whistling) Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
--The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men!'
SFX: THE WHISTLE GROWS HIGHER, SHRILL, MINGLES WITH A WIND THAT TEARS UP THE STREET WITH THE SOUNDS OF A TRAIN.
SFX: SIGN CRASHES TO THE GROUND. ELECTRICAL SHORT.
SFX: PAPER SKIPPING UP THE STREET. SPLATS AGAINST THE CRATE.
CHAD: What the hell?
SUSIE: ELLA! ELLA!
CHAD: She’s okay! She probably just needs a rest.
SUSIE: You mean it?
CHAD: Sure! If not, we just need to change her batteries or something. Look…one of those dude’s flyers.
MOOSE: Hey! Everything okay dude? We heard a crash. Damned wind blew a cornstalk up my ass.
PATSY: Yeah way to ruin the mood. What’s that?
CHAD: Looks like some douche is trying to horn in our idea. Look for yourself. “Coming, October 31st, Cooger and Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show. A Halloween Carnival Like No Other!”
MOOSE: Original beyond all President.
PATSY: Like, there is one of those Babe Lincoln performers or something?
CHAD: Damn it Pats…that’s Abe Lincoln and its precedent, not President.
SUSIE: OHHHH! Look! They’ll have rides and treats! Can we go? Can we go?
CHAD: You bet your pigtails we are. I don’t want no Johnny come lastly to eat into our holiday profits. This dude is gonna steal the business. Everyone’s gonna head to that carnival…makes our haunted corn maze look like a sad shit show to his sideshow.
SUSIE: Yayyyyy! That’ll be fun won’t….it….Ella? (Pause) Chad do you think she’s okay?
CHAD:
MOOSE: Hey…where’d that guy go?
CHAD: Huh….weird. Moose, you might want to get Punch. Dude’s runnin’ over to the next county. Something spooked him.
PATSY: See the Most Beautiful Woman in the World! Huh. We’ll see about that.
SCENE 4: EXT. ROADWAY – NIGHT
SLICK WILLY: Why the scarab he asks? Why? Why my ass that’s why! Why the Egyptian, Arabic, Abyssinian, Choctaw? Well, what tongue does the wind talk? What nationality is a storm? What country do rains come from? What color is lightning? Where does thunder go when it dies? Ol’ Willy says you got to be ready in every dialect with every shape and form to hex the St Elmo's fires, the balls of blue light that prowl the earth like sizzling cats.
SFX: CALIOPE MUSIC DRIFTS ON THE WIND.
SLICK WILLY: Palace of the Winding Path? Eh? What’s smell? Perfume! Oh, perfume on buttery thighs…belly dancers with come hither eyes. Maybe Ol’ Willy will find him some thunderstruck concubines who want a taste of my lightning bolt! HE HEEEEEEEEEEE! Here I come ladies!
SFX: WALKING.
SLICK WILLY: Ol’ Willy’s Tesla’s got the only lightning in the world that can sass back any storm, raider or smart-ass dweller no matter what tongue, voice, or sign. No foreign thunder so loud this rod can't soft-talk it! Eh? What’s this…circus tent?
SFX: WALKING.
SLICK WILLY: Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show, Fantoccini, Marionette Circus, and Your Plain Meadow Carnival in Camden. Arriving Immediately! Here on Display, one of our many attractions: The Most Beautiful Woman in the World.
DARK: She really is you know.
SLICK WILLY: AH! Look here Raider, Ol’ Willy’s got lightning for anyone to taste.
DARK: Undoubtedly sir, but I bear you no ill intent. I am Mr. Dark and this is just a preview of things to come. A taste, if you will, before our main event.
SLICK WILLY: Ohhhh yes…Cooger and Dark. Got the fuzzy end of the lollipop there boy? Cooger came first? HOOO WHEEEE!
DARK: Mr. Cooger and myself approached our partnership with a certain degree of pragmatism. Why lead with ego and argue over who is the brighter storm cloud or trailing falling star when we simplify things alphabetically. C, then D. Cooger and Dark.
SLICK WILLY: Well whatever. Where’s this hot piece of ass? Old Willy’s been walking the roads for a bit and he’d like to air his loins if you get my drift. HE HEEEEEEEEEEE.
DARK: In my line of work I find directness and bluntness to be so refreshing. Here my good man, step right inside. Your Venus awaits. I’ll wait patiently out here and close the curtains to give you two some privacy to become more…acquainted?
SLICK WILLY: Venus eh? Here I come baby!
SFX: CURTAIN CLOSES.
SLICK WILLY: Big dark in here…
SFX: ICE CRACKING. CHILL WIND. WHISPERING.
SLICK WILLY: Say…what kind of bullshit is this. That’s no woman…that’s a block of ice…
DUST WITCH: (Eerie whispering) Willy….oh Willy…
SLICK WILLY: Eh? Who is that?
DUST WITCH: (Eerie whispering) Look into the ice…do you see me?
SLICK WILLY: I….yes….yes I see…there you are…aren’t you cold?
DUST WITCH: (Eerie whispering) I was waiting for you to warm me dear Willard. Will you not touch me? Touch the ice? Just a touch…one touch…your warm hands on my icy bosom…I’ve been waiting so long.
SLICK WILLY: Ohhhh Venus….Willy is here….he….oh, that’s cold….that’s cold…I can’t….my hand…my hand’s stuck to the ice. Help! Help me!! HELP!!! (Yelling)
SFX: ICE AND BLIZZARD NOISE AS ICE FLAKES ENCIRCLE HIM.
DARK: (Singing) And wild and sweet
Their words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men!
SFX: LEAVES RUSH AND WITH A WHOOSH THEY ARE GONE.
SCENE 5: EXT. RAIDER CAMP – NIGHT.
SFX: CAMPFIRE CRACKLING.
RAIDER: Oi Havoc! Did you see the way that Dweller was running and trying to load his gun? “Ppp…ppplease don’t take my workshop! I made a farm! You can take some!” (Laughs)
HAVOC: Take some, make some. A smile and a shank and a body in the tank (laughs).
RAIDER: You wanna brew? Or maybe something stronger? Cavelord found a stash of chems.
HAVOC: Mixed them all, mixed them up…laughing in the dark all night long. Shhhh…hear them laughing? It’s a carousel! (Laughs)
RAIDER: Jesus Christ mate you took them all? It’s a wonder you’re not feckin’ eating dirt.
SFX: WIND HOWLS. CALLIOPE MUSIC PLAYS SOFTLY.
RAIDER: Oi! What the fuck is that? Sounds like music.
HAVOC: The song! The song on the wind, on wind whipped leaves and dark dreams. Forever October country…and he is coming…
SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS.
RAIDER: Hey! Who is that there?
DARK: Just the shadow on the pave on the longer of days.
HAVOC: (Laughs) The flickering flame of the last pumpkin on All Hallow’s Eve.
RAIDER: Look at this guy’s threads. Evenin’ governor!
DARK: Yes. Havoc. Now that is a name. “Love loves Anarchy. It loves to wreak havoc. It loves to dance atop the ruins.” And what, pray tell, do YOU love Havoc.
HAVOC: The dance and the pain (laughter).
RAIDER: Fancy fuckin’ words. I want them clothes.
SFX: GUN COCKED.
DARK: You are a distraction. I have business. If you will permit me.
SFX: RUN FORWARD. ARM SNAPPED.
RAIDER: My arm! You broke my fucking arm! Get off me!
DARK: The greatest of crimes is to look in the mirror and smash the reflection there. To wield the shards of yourself to cut and harm others, aware, but not caring that you are broken. Help is required, but pity is owed to the worthy. I bid you good night.
SFX: KICKED OFF THE LEDGE.
RAIDER: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh!
HAVOC: Good night, sweet prince.
DARK: I require your services, an extended contract. Terms non-negotiable. Do you accept?
HAVOC: Tick tock…I waited…have a lifetime to dance.
DARK: Look here…on my forearm. Do you see?
HAVOC: The Demon Clown….ohhhhh yessssss (laughs) yessssss!
DARK: Touch your mark and let us begin the shadow show.
SFX: SIZZLING NOISE. THERE IS THE SCREAM OF A TRAIN WHISTLE.
HAVOC: (Laughing madly)
SFX: LAUGHTER FADES AND MOVES AWAY ON THE WIND.
SCENE 6: IN T. TENT – NIGHT.
SFX: CRICKETS. WIND.
SFX: LOUD TRAIN WHISTLE.
SIMON: (Jolts awake) AH! What the fuck?
SFX: TRAIN WHISTLE.
SIMON: What the hell? What time is it? 3am? Is…that can’t be. A train? That’s not possible.
HANDY: Hey! Hey there! Whoever is doing that! Stop right now! All my pumpkins are falling down! Cease this immediately!
SFX: RUMBLING GROUND. TRAIN WHISTLE.
SFX. PANTS ZIPPED. TENT UNZIPPED. STUMBLING OUT AND RUNNING.
HANDY: You there! Wait for me! What is that?
SIMON: That’s a train. An honest to god train!
HANDY: Well Jack is going to give them a taste of his flamethrower by god! All my pumpkins are smashing on the street from that racket!
SIMON: What the hell? Are they visitors? Someone get a train working? If so…that’s a game changer!
SFX: RUNNING.
SFX: CALIOPE MUSIC ON THE WIND.
SIMON: That’s… music? Up here…just over this hill!
HANDY: All my beautiful jack o’ lanterns! We’ll have to start all over.
SIMON: Look…here she comes!
SFX: TRAIN THUNDERING DOWN THE TRACKS.
SIMON: That engine…is old. It looks older than the 1900s…Civil War era maybe. Look at the flags and the cages. It’s a carnival! A carnival here?
HANDY: Well, carnival or no they are going to taste my blade and flamethrower by God!
SIMON: Hear that music? It kind of sounds like church music.
HANDY: Church music is a bit of an odd selection for 3 o’clock in the morning.
SIMON: No…something’s wrong. Look…there’s no one playing the calliope. Look!
SFX: LOUD, WAILING WHISTLE…RISING IN PITCH, LIKE A MILLION AGONIZED SOULS SCREAMING IN WARNING.
HANDY: What an infernal racket! My sensors!
SIMON: Ahhhh! My ears…..
SFX: WHISTLE FADES. TRAIN THUNDERS DOWN THE TRACKS.
SIMON: It’s leaving…not without me!
HANDY: Where are you going? Come back! What about my pumpkins!
SIMON: Fuck your pumpkins! That train is taking me out of here to who knows where.
SFX: RUNNING. PANTING. JUMP AND CLATTERING ON THE BOXCAR PLATFORM.
SIMON: Ah! Phew. Made it…better keep quiet. Windows look like they haven’t been clean in an age…this thing is so rusty it’s a wonder it doesn’t shake itself apart. I’d better…
SFX: CALIOPE LOUDER.
SIMON: Tired…so tired…better…rest. Don’t…want them…to find me….throw me….
SFX: SLOW BREATHING. BODY SLIDES TO PLATFORM.
SFX: CALIOPE GROWS QUIETER. FOOTSTEPS INSIDE. BOXCAR DOOR PEEKS OPEN.
DARK: Hmmm…interesting. This one. Something different. Dream. Dream on of parades and darkness…your want, longing and regret radiate off you upon the winds like the sugary sweetness of confections and cakes. Delicious. Sweet dreams then.
SFX: DOOR CLOSES. FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.
SCENE 7: INT. PUNCH’S ROOM – NIGHT.
PUNCH: (Loud snoring) Mmmm….meat bag sit….sticky quiet….make yummy roasts…
SFX: TRAIN WHISTLE.
SFX: RUNNING.
SUSIE: Mr. Punch! Mr. Punch! Wake up! Wake up!
PUNCH: (Mumbling) Leave Punch make sleep. Dream nice.
SUSIE: Mr. Punch there’s a tasty Vault Dweller trapped out back!
PUNCH: (awake) Tasty? Meatbag? Punch can eat? Not get scold?
SUSIE: Yeah! Come on! Wake up! Let’s go! Just be quiet or we’ll wake everyone.
SFX: QUIET WALKING DOWN HALLWAY.
PUNCH: Where Meatbag? Punch not like those metal shell ones. Have to crack shells. Messy. Yuck.
SFX: DOOR OPENED. CLOSED. WALKING ON LEAVES.
SUSIE: There. Come on! Pick me up! Run that way! You hear it!
SFX: TRAIN WHISTLE.
PUNCH: What noise? Where meatbag?
SUSIE: Ummm…I told a little lie. But I needed your help!
PUNCH: NO MEATBAG FOR PUNCH! BIG MAD!
SUSIE: But I think that’s that carnival comin’ to town! Hear it! Please can you take me?
PUNCH: Punch not like lie. Punch take. But Punch big mad. Up go. Hold on.
SFX: THUNDERING RUNNING. TRAIN WHISTLES LOUDER. CALLIOPE WAILS INTO THE NIGHT.
SUSIE: Ella? Hear that? Will you wake up?
ELLA: (Damaged, distorted) …in…a ….dark….dark…wood…there was…..teeeee…..
SUSIE: I think she’s sick. Mr. Punch.
SFX: RUNNING.
SUSIE: Look! There it is! There it is! A real choo choo!
PUNCH: (Sniffing) Punch not like. Smells….bad. Like dead thing.
SUSIE: Look it’s stopping over there at Camden Park!
SFX: WIND KICKS UP. LEAVES RUSTLE.
PUNCH: Eh? What dat up dere in sky?
SUSIE: Ummm…it looks like a balloon! One of those fancy balloons you could go for rides in before the big bombs. See! Someone’s in it!
PUNCH: Little meatbag come from train. Let’s go home. Warm bed. Safe.
SUSIE: Look! What’s he doing? He’s walking into the park and waving his hands.
SFX: THUNDER RUMBLES IN THE SKY. WIND ROARS.
PUNCH: More little meatbags now from metal machine. Feels bad. Feels bad. Punch not like.
SUSIE: Look! The clouds keep blocking the moon. I can’t see…oh, wait! Look! All the tents are there! They work fast! Lickity split!
PUNCH: Where balloon go?
SUSIE: I can’t see…it’s dark again. Oh…there….where’d everybody go?
PUNCH: Punch not like. Bad place. Bad people.
SFX: RUNNING RECEEDS.
SFX: EERIE WIND.
SIMON: (Startles awake…feet clattering on iron) Ah! (Panting) What? …The train. Stopped.
SFX: WALKING DOWN IRON STAIRS TO GRAVEL.
SIMON: Camden Park? It’s…3:30am How the hell did it get from Sunnytop Station to Camden Park in a half hour?
COOGER: Hey! You there!
SIMON: Ah, shit…
SFX: RUNNING.
SFX: TENTS FLAPPING IN THE WIND.
COOGER: When I catch you, I’ll crush your skull!
SIMON: Tent…
SFX: TENT FLAP OPEN. CLOSED. PANTING.
SFX: FOOTSTEPS RUN UP. STOP. RUN ONWARD.
SIMON: Phew…that was close.
SFX: WHISPERED VOICES.
JAKE: Amata, I am dead ass tired. What are we even doing out here?
AMATA: Because Jake, when a 19th century train casually shows up out of nowhere and a carnival materializes faster than is humanly possible, you’d have to have your head up your ass to not wonder what the hell is going on or even be remotely curious.
JAKE: I smelled popcorn this afternoon and thought I was losing my mind. Then that weird calliope music.
SIMON: Son of a bitch…those two. Fucking traitors.
AMATA: The time Jake, is what bothers me. This train…can’t exist. 3am used to be called the soul’s midnight. The phrase came from the fact that more people died at 3am than any other time…the nearest time even when alive and dreaming you are to death than any other. This place is wrong…and I want to find out what it is…because it sure as hell isn’t a carnival.
SIMON: After what you two did to me at the trial I should show you how close to death you are.
AMATA: That guy that came off the train ran this way and some other guy gave chase.
JAKE: Well, let’s not get caught. This place gives me the creeps. Where to?
AMATA: There’s a mirror maze over there…I think I saw him in there. Let’s go.
SFX: WALKING RECEEDES.
SIMON: Yeah, you two do that. Fuck the both of you.
SFX: ICY WIND. CRACKING.
SIMON: Brrr…what is that?
SFX: WALKING.
SIMON: “Cooger and Dark present, the Most Beautiful …in the world.” Posters missing a piece. What is…that’s some serious chunk of ice. “Gaze Upon the Timeless Beauty. The Fairest of the Fair, the Heart’s Longing Made Flesh”…that’s some pitch. Wait…there’s someone in there…can’t see what it is…in the ice…how are they?
SFX: WHISPERING.
DUST WITCH: Alone…always alone…never held….
ICE MAN: Never held…never touched…never loved…
DUST WITCH: A heart empty. A heart filling with delicious pain…
ICE MAN: With every mile walked…every choice made…
DUST WITCH: But just to touch and be touched…
ICE MAN: Oh, to be touched. Reach for us…choose…
DUST WITCH: Make a choice…a crying heart…touch….touch….TOUCH!
ICE MAN: Touch…touch….TOUCH!
SIMON: No….NO! NOOOO!
SFX: RUNNING.
DUST WITCH: The choice is made…
ICE MAN: The path is chosen…
DUST WITCH: In fire…
ICE MAN: And ice….
DUST WITCH: Ice….
SCENE 8: EXT. CARNIVAL – DAY
SFX: CARNIVAL AMBIANCE. LAUGH PEOPLE. AMUSEMENT RIDES.
CARN. BARKER: Come one, come all to Cooger and Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show! See Mephistole, the Lava Drinker! This fella doesn’t chug Nuka Cola kid! Madame, dare you stand before the Demon Guillotine? A Thousand and One Wonders await inside folks!
CHAD: Man…just look at this place.
SUSIE: Huh…it’s just a plain old carnival.
PUNCH: (Grunts) Hold Punch hand. Not nice. Not real.
SUSIE: Chad! Chad! Look!
CHAD: Ride the wonderful Carousel of Dreams.
HANDY: Apologies from the management, but the carousel in currently out of order.
CHAD: Aww…tough break kid. That’s okay. Lots of other stuff to see.
MOOSE: Ohhhh damn dude! This carnival is lit! And look, they got the rides working too! Patsy come on, let’s do bumper cars! I want to smash you from behind! (laughs)
PATSY: Like, don’t be gross Moose! Hey, what kind of entertainment do you have here exactly?
CARN. BARKER: Our midway will dazzle and delight madame! Maybe your fella can try his hand at our Nuka Zapper game! He can pit his aim against others for BIG prizes.
PATSY: I mean like fun stuff…something I’d like.
CARN. BARKER: Here…take our program and map of the carnival grounds. You could stand before the Most Beautiful Woman in the World! There, modestly priced, Mister’s Coogan and Dark have assembled the finest beauty elixirs and creams from the ancient world. The lotus cream praised by Cleopatra herself, a vial of aqua vitae from Aphrodite herself.
PATSY: That’s more like it! Come on Moose.
MOOSE: Imma go smash some noobs in the bumper cars. You go and enjoy with creams and stuff and I’ll meet you there. See if they have Hercules’ lube or something. (laughs)
SUSIE: Come on, Chad! Come on! Ella, look!
ELLA: …tick…tock….goes…the…clock….one-time round…one…time…not….
SUSIE: What are those?
CHAD: Those are side show paintings. Like ads for shows, freaks and stuff. They’ve seen better days. Look like they’ve seen more action than I have lately. Can you read them?
SUSIE: Ummm…L…Live Wood…Wooden Indian. The Bee…Bearded Lady. The…Mon…Ster…
CHAD: Montgolfier. That was a hard one. Fucked if I know what that even is. Well, what do you want to see first?
SUSIE: Oh! Can we go on the Haunted House ride! Look! Look! It’s got little carts to ride in!
CHAD: Ahh….sure….
HANDY: 50 caps please.
CHAD: Oof…damn dude. You sure you don’t want to maybe go on the roller coaster? Or maybe check out the Mirror Maze kid?
SUSIE: Noo…what’s wrong?
CHAD: I’ve never been a fan of this kind of frights and shit. If some dude jump scares me in there, I’m going to unload both barrels in his face and our day trip is going to end fast.
SUSIE: Well…I guess…Mister Punch will you take me?
HANDY: That…thing will not be able to fit in the ride with you.
PUNCH: Punch go. Keep safe. Sit on lap.
HANDY: Maybe it wasn’t clear.
SUSIE: Excuse me Mr. Handy, would you mind if rip your eye stalks off and shove them up your thruster hole?
HANDY: Oh, my lord…ehm…step lively folks. Mind the track. That’ll be 50 caps please.
CHAD: Here you go dude.
HANDY: Lovely….child…you’re raising.
CHAD: I’---m so proud.
PUNCH: (Grunting) Spooky car look like skull. Make nice chair at home. Maybe Punch take one.
SUSIE: Wheee! Let’s go!
COOGER: Allow me, Mr. Handy. Good afternoon. My name is Mr. Cooger, your conductor into terror. Always keep your hands and feet inside the cart if you value them. You are about to enter the Haunted House, a ride that is not for the faint of heart.
ELLA: (Shorting) ….off…..off…..home….off….baaaaaaad…..danger….
SUSIE: What’s wrong with you, Ella?
COOGER: In the bones of this building are all that remains of Gabriel Chase, the most haunted home in Massachusetts. Legends say that Captain Mosely, returned home to his bride to find her in the arms of another. In a feral rage, he took ax in hand and rendered them limb from limb. All before hanging himself in despair on the stairs.
CHAD: Jesus Christ dude…cool it…she’s 12….errr…going on 40…
COOGER: As I said…not for the faint of heart. Enjoy the ride.
SFX: BUTTON IS PUSHED. TRACK FIRE UP. CART ROLLS FORWARD.
SUSIE: Wheeeee!
PUNCH: Punch have to pee already.
SFX: DOORS OPEN AND SLAM SHUT, ECHOING LIKE A TOMB.
COOGER: Are you sure this ride doesn’t interest you?
CHAD: Yeah, no. Fuck that dude.
COOGER: Perhaps something a little more….entertaining while you wait? Just there…
CHAD: Dark’s Temple of Temptation…see Cleopatra’s Handmaidens and their Dance of a 1,000 Veils. Dude. The only way that could be more perfect…
COOGER: You did not finish reading.
CHAD: Smoke the famed hookah of Persian King Karim Khan, lost to ages, rediscovered. What shall you see in the smoke rings? Dude. Yes!
COOGER: Right this way sir. Here, a ticket for entry. On the house…compliments of my associate Mr. Dark.
CHAD: Kickass dude…
SFX: CURTAINS OPEN AND CLOSE. SEDUCTIVE MUSIC. WHISPERING.
CHAD: Can’t see a fucking thing in here…
SFX: LIGHT SWITCH.
CHAD: Oh damn…
SFX: CHAIR SIT.
MUSIC: STRIKES UP. BELLY DANCING CLINGING.
DARK: Stunning, aren’t they?
CHAD: Uh…yeah bro.
SFX: HOOKAH BUBBLE.
DARK: Care for a smoke?
CHAD: Hell yeah. Uhhh…how do I hit this bong bro?
SFX: HOOKAH.
DARK: The hookah is a little different than that my friend. Your bong in comparison to this is the equivalent of the awkward all too short fumblings of youth to the measured and experienced loving of long years. This hookah is seasoned by 3 centuries, born in the royal court of Karim Khan Zand. It is a social versus a solitary experience. Wreathed in smoke rings of herb and fruit convened friend and foe, rules and despots, murderers and madmen.
CHAD: Yeah how do I smoke it dude. I want to watch those girls wiggle their bits. Chatting is killing the vibe.
DARK: Indeed. My apologies, but context…is everything. Here, the shisha…an aromatic tobacco. A variety, each with own unique…experience. Would you mind if I select for you?
CHAD: Sure dude…whatever.
DARK: Excellent.
SFX: FLAME BURNS.
DARK: Here…the hose and mouthpiece. Now…inhale lightly…you have all the time in the world. All the run down, lost minutes and years of clocks frozen in a forever October.
SFX: BUBBLING.
DARK: Now…exhale…
CHAD: (Coughing) This….this stuff is…
DARK: Look…through the smoke…see them through the smoke.
CHAD: I feel…oh man…this is…
DARK: Look, watch them move. So fluid. A dance of the ages…from woman to man. A dance in a garden elsewhere in time, when she danced for Adam, seducing him to warm folds and perpetual damnation. Amber skin, a flawless expanse of supple, giving flesh as sensitive to the touch as wet clay. How experienced fingers could mold it…
CHAD: (Drunkenly) Susie? She must be waiting…
DARK: This dance is a private affair, I think. Ladies? My compliments Mister?
CHAD: Johnson…Chad.
DARK: Enjoy the show Mr. Johnson.
SFX: MUSIC, DANCING RISING. MOANING.
SFX: WALKING AWAY.
SCENE 9: INT. HAUNTED HOUSE RIDE – DAY
SFX: HAUNTED RIDE NOISES. BOOS AND AHHS.
PUNCH: Punch no like stupid ride.
SUSIE: This is fun, Mr. Punch! Look there’s a scary devil in the hallway!
PUNCH: Where Patsy?
SUSIE: No silly it’s a real Devil!
PUNCH: Punch leg falling asleep.
SUSIE: Whoa! Hang on! We’re going down…this place is bigger than it looks….
PUNCH: Meatbags and skeletons in mine. Not belong. Down places belong to nasty mole people. Angry with screaming and cutting. Shooting and swearing. Mole people HATE super mutant.
SUSIE: Oh look! Mr. Punch! Ohhhh! This is a big room! Oh, it’s a dining room! Look at the dancing ghosts!
SFX: ELECTRICAL SHORT AND EXPLOSION. LIGHTS GO OUT.
PUNCH: Stupid ride broke. Silly humans. Now what Punch do?
SUSIE: I’m sure they’ll fix it soon. Look Mr. Punch! Look at all the food. Do you think it’s real?
PUNCH: (Sniffing) Ohhh! Punch think so! Punch think so!
SFX: CLAMBER OUT OF CAR.
SUSIE: Where are you going? The ride could start any minute!
ELLA: Dannn….dannnng….stooo pppp ppp ppp. Bacckkkk.
SUSIE: What are you saying Ella? Mr. Punch come back!
PUNCH: Ohhh! Sticky chick on, hot roast, yummy mushroom soup….and good brew! Good brew! (Eating noises)
SFX: ELECTRICAL SHORT. POWER BACK ON. CAR JOLTS OFF.
SUSIE: Mr. Punch! Punch! Hurry!
PUNCH: Punch hungry. Punch hungry…
SUSIE: (Crying) Mr. Punch don’t leave me by myself! Mr. Punnnncccchhhh!
SFX: CAR RATTLES OFF. ORGAN MUSIC PLAYS.
DARK: Delicious isn’t it my large friend? Here…try suckling pig…it is particularly good. Candied pork, sweet yet musky…not exactly long pig, but its complementary fare that is close enough for polite society.
PUNCH: (Eating) Good food. Good.
DARK: Indeed. Good food. Good meat…GOOD GOD, let’s eat. Truth be told, all of the vices, gluttony is my favorite. It takes effort and intent, true skill to master. But at its core…gluttony of the gut begets gluttony of the mind. More brew? Drink up…its Guinness, not local…the very real thing I assure you. The ghost from another era.
PUNCH: (Slurping beer loudly) Punch like brew. Punch make brew.
DARK: The mind is hungry, often for things it cannot name. Like your tongue and tastebuds remember the sensation of a meal you cannot recall in an unremarkable year. What is it you are hungry for Mister…?
PUNCH: (Eating loudly) Punch. Punch not know.
DARK: I think you do, though by no fault of your own, the essence of you was poured into a sexless brute with the mind of a child, yet the anger of a man raging against the dark late in life. You…remember sometimes don’t you? What you used to be? Who you used to be?
PUNCH: (Stops eating) What you say?
DARK: Look…in the dark swirls of your drink. See there…a boy, laughing…what was his name? The name…there is POWER in a name…name him…
PUNCH: Shh shhh Sher man. Dal ton….Dalton Sherman.
DARK: YES! Oh, that night. Oh, what a night in Huntersville as the best and brightest, clad in crisp linen lab coats and grizzled tin soldiers did something just because they could. And you, a mother’s love. A mother’s protection. When they came to the door demanding “custody” as if it was something as casually given away as asking to borrow a cup of sugar. Upstairs, feverish with skin the color of fresh peas you heard it all. The anger in her voice, the fear…the demand behind the click of weaponry being armed.
PUNCH: Ma…mama? (On the verge of tears) They…
DARK: Yes. A single concussion. Such a small thing. It tore through her as it tore your life in two, cleaved your humanity. Your final scream as a human, the innocence of youth popping like a blown bubble.
PUNCH: TOOK! TOOK MAMA! KILL MAMA!
DARK: If gluttony is a sin, their act caused the old gods to cry out in surprise and horror. What if I could give you back what you lost?
PUNCH: MA MA?
DARK: No…that is beyond my power. But look here…
SFX: UNBUTTON AND SLIDING OF SHIRT SLEEVE
DARK: There…in painted swirls and inks on my bicep…do you see? Do you accept? Imagine…a humanity lost…a half of your soul rendered restored…your hand. Do you accept? Do you accept? (Echoing through haunted halls)
SCENE 10: EXT. MIDWAY
SFX: CLATTERING RIDE AS BUGGY EXITS DARK RIDE.
SUSIE: Punch! Punch!
DUST WITCH: Is something wrong little one?
SUSIE: My friend got out of the ride and he left me! He’s still in there!
DUST WITCH: Poor thing. Poor little thing. So, lost. So, alone. I can help you.
SUSIE: Where’s Chad? CHAD! He was right here.
DUST WITCH: The carnival gets busy, but it’s nothing to fear. We all lose ourselves in the lights and music. Come…take my hand and I’ll help you find your friend.
ELLA: Dusst…..dusttt….dusttt….runn….runnnn…runnn.
DUST WITCH: What a precious little doll. May I see it?
SUSIE: Nuh uh. Ella doesn’t like other people to hold her. CHAAAAAADDDD!
DUST WITCH: With all the noise I don’t think he’ll hear you. Come. Take my hand.
SUSIE: No. You’re a stranger.
DUST WITCH: Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet. Besides, I am part of the family here. I am the Dust Witch.
SUSIE: What’s a Dust Witch?
ELLA: Born…in…….born….in….dust….
DUST WITCH: Yes. We are born in the dusty, in the dry shadowy places, we dance in the dust and then we return to….
SUSIE: CHAAAAAADDDDDDD!
DUST WITCH: Let me help…
SFX: SWITCHBLADE
SUSIE: Put a finger on me lady and I’ll be wearing it.
DUST WITCH: Oh my…well that’s not very ladylike, Susie.
SUSIE: How did you know my name?
DUST WITCH: I am the Dusty Witch. See my ring? It whispers things to me…it tells me such things…look see how it sparkles?
SUSIE: It’s….it’s so pretty….
DUST WITCH: Yes….it tells me and it also shows me. Look…look deep inside. What do you see?
SUSIE: I see…me. That’s me…but…I’m grown. I’m big!
DUST WITCH: Yes. Your heart cries out…forever a child, but never an adult.
SUSIE: I’m so pretty…my skin…it’s not yucky.
DUST WITCH: How would you like to be a grownup, Susie? How’d that feel do you think? Not to be looked down at, not to be told to run away and play by Patsy or Moose. To be trusted. To be feared more than you are. To know what Chad and other grow-ups do behind locked doors when children are asleep…
SUSIE: It’s….so warm…
DUST WITCH: It is. Wouldn’t that be grand? You could Queen of the Carnival…beautiful…forever…
ELLA: DUST….DUST…..DUST…….RUNNNN….rRRRRrrrrrr UNNNN
SUSIE: No….CHAAAADDDDD!
DUST WITCH: Too late!
SFX: WIND WHIPS UP. SCREAMS FADE.
SUSIE: CHADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD! (Screaming)
DUST WITCH: (Laughing)
SFX: WIND DIES DOWN.
CUT TO: DARK’S TEMPLE OF TEMPTATION
SFX: MOANING. DANCING.
CHAD: Yes…..oh yesss….. (laughing)
SUSIE: (Echoing) CHADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD! (Screaming)
CHAD: Sss….Susie? (Shaken out of trance) SUSIE!
SFX: CLOTHES RUFFLED. ZIPPED.
CHAD: I’m coming! Ahh…not for you ladies…sorry.
SFX: SNAKE HISS.
CHAD: Ah! What the fuck! What the fuck!
SFX: SNAKE COILS AND SNAPS.
SFX: GUN BLASTS.
SFX: SNAKE SCREAM.
CHAT: What the fuck dude!
SFX: RUNNING. TENT FLAPS KICKED OPEN.
SFX: MIDWAY.
CHAD: SUSIE! SUSIE!!! WHERE ARE YOU???
SFX: RUNNING.
DUST WITCH: Wait! You’re not finished! Look into my ring! The Dust Witch commands you!
CHAD: Outta my way bitch!
SFX: SHOVE AND FALL.
DUST WTICH: Ahhh! You asshole!
CHAD: PUNNCCCH!!! SUSIEEEEE!
SFX: RUNNING.
SCENE 11: EXT. MIDWAY
SFX: MIDWAY NOISES. SMASHING BOTTLES.
HANDY: Say there sonny, do YOU have what it takes to dazzle with feats of strength? Step right up! Test your strength! Win a big prize!
SIMON: Yeah…real challenge there. Someone pops a BuffOut and blows the bell apart.
HANDY: Get away from here kid, you bother me!
SIMON: I get that a lot.
SFX: WALKING.
SFX: TRIP CLATTERING METAL.
SIMON: Ooof! What the….I know this bag.
SFX: UNZIPPING BAG.
SIMON: Teslas. Ignatius Willard? Why the hell would he just leave these here.
HANDY: Spin the wheel, take a risk! The Wheel of Fortune awaits! 1 in 10 wins 1,000 caps!
SIMON: No damn it. Fuck off.
HANDY: (Mumbling) Miserable rude bastard…
SIMON: I don’t understand. Everything looks so normal here. Rides…games…food. Everyone just seems to be having fun. Fortunes told and futures seen, visit Mademoiselle Tarot. Dark’s Temple of Temptation. The Eqyptian Maze. See yourself ten thousand times. I’m good thanks…I hate mirrors.
COOGER: Funny thing about mirrors is that they never lie, they show us our truest self. Some people run screaming at their own reflection. Others simply get lost…it’s like swimming infinity.
SIMON: Yeah, you never can tell what you’ll find in there…acne, just out of bed hair. Things of that nature.
COOGER: You look familiar. I never forget a face.
SIMON: Neither do I. Simon Rex.
COOGER: Cooger. Mister. Enjoying the show?
SIMON: I suppose. It’s a refreshing change. The first wholesome thrill we’ve had since Reclamation Day. An honest to God autumn carnival…apropos for a place where it’s perpetually October. Clocks and calendars frozen in time.
COOGER: Yes. October country. A place where people autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain…
SIMON: Sure. Whatever. If you’ll excuse me.
COOGER: I do hope you find your friends.
SIMON: What did you say?
COOGER: Your friends. Tall, thing boy with a bit of the wolf in him, I think. And his girl, the bespectacled opportunist. They were asking after you.
SIMON: Interesting. But you’re wrong in thinking they are friends of mine. When next I meet them, we’re going to have a reckoning. I don’t forget and I don’t forgive.
COOGER: Mirror Maze.
SIMON: What?
COOGER: I believe they are still in the Mirror Maze.
SFX: HUMMING. SHIMMERING.
SIMON: They’re in here?COOGER: Right inside. The entry is 5 caps, but I’ve seen that look on your face before. A barely contained rage. You can’t decide when you see them if you are going to punch or yell, cry or shoot. Here you are. One ticket. One trip.
SIMON: I haven’t decided yet, what I’m going to do. This…even looking in…it goes on forever. (Nervous laugh) That’s funny.
COOGER: MMMMmmm?
SIMON: The hair. The hair on the back of my neck. It’s standing up. I thought that was something that only happened in scary stories.
COOGER: Every story is a scary story depending on your perspective.
SIMON: Everyone is a villain in someone else’s story.
COOGER: Stepping inside?
SIMON: I…no….I think….
AMATA: Simon! Simon is that you?
JAKE: Simon? Where are you?
SIMON: Jake. Amata.
AMATA: Stay away from us! Stay away!
JAKE: Leave us alone!
SIMON: No. I’m tired of being ignored.
SFX: WALKING. DEEP ECHO. STRANGE THRUMMING AND SHIMMERING.
COOGER: Farewell Mr. Rex!
SIMON: Jake! Amata! I’m coming for you.
AMATA: No! No! Stay away! You’re a monster.
JAKE: Monster. You’re a burden.
AMATA: Our life was fine without you in it.
SIMON: You both LIED. We swore an oath.
JAKE: (Laughing) Listen to him Amata….
SFX: THUMP.
SIMON: Ah…can’t…see….
AMATA: We’re over here! Why don’t you come this way?
JAKE: No…this way so I can kick your ass.
AMATA: Or maybe you want to kiss his ass? Or maybe mine? (Laughs)
JAKE: You’re pathetic.
AMATA: Pathetic.
SIMON: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! I’M GOING TO KILL THE BOTH OF YOU.
YOUNG SIMON: Help! Help me!
SIMON: Who? Who is that?
YOUNG SIMON: I’m here! I’m drowning!
SIMON: What? Drowning…
SFX: WATER SPLASHING
SIMON: What the fuck…
YOUNG SIMON: Please! I can’t swim…
SIMON: Wha….wait! I’m coming…
JAKE: What do you think Amata? Hold him under?
AMATA: Let’s dunk him on 3…
SIMON: STOP! What the fuck are you doing??
YOUNG SIMON: Get off me! Get off!
JAKE: (Laughing) Look at him Amata…looks like a little fish.
AMATA: More like a minnow…so small and weak…
SFX: SWIMMING
SIMON: Cold….cold….what the hell….wait! I’m coming kid!
JAKE: Say goodbye little fish. Big breath now.
YOUNG SIMON: Please! Please don’t! Where’s Mom? Where’s Dad?
SIMON: JAKE! FUCKING STOP!
AMATA: Oh, look…here he comes…
SFX: SPLASHING STRUGGLING.
YOUNG SIMON: (Gurgling) Hell….ppp…..hellpppp
JAKE: Simple Simon met a pieman,
Going to the fair;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
Let me taste your ware.
SFX: SWIMMING. THUMPING.
SIMON: Can’t find the way around…god damn mirrors…
AMATA: Says the pieman to Simple Simon,
Show me first your penny;
Says Simple Simon to the pieman,
Indeed I have not any.
YOUNG SIMON: I want to go home…please…
JAKE: One last dunk should do it…
SIMON: Hey Jake.
JAKE: Yes?
SIMON: Eat lead.
SFX: HANDGUN SHOT. MIRROR SHATTERS. WALL OF WATER EXPLODES. SIMON THROWN UNDERWATER.
SIMON: (Gasping)
SFX: WATER WASHES AWAY. EERIE SILENCE.
SIMON: Kid? Where are you?
YOUNG SIMON: (Crying) Everyone left me. Everyone leaves. Where’s Mom and Dad?
SIMON: Hey…hey it’s okay…did you see where they went? It’s okay…look at me. I’m here.
YOUNG SIMON: Everyone always leaves.
SIMON: No…no….you….your face…what are you? What is this?
YOUNG SIMON: I’m so alone. I want everyone. All the time. And I take. And I want. I want and I take. Others eat nummies…I swallow people whole. (Laughs)
Simple Simon went a-fishing,
For to catch a whale;
All the water he had got,
Was in his mother's pail. (Laughing long and loud)
SFX: LAUGHTER TRANSITIONS TO CLOWN
DEM. CLOWN: (Laughing) Simple Simon went to look
If plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much,
Which made poor Simon whistle.
SIMON: What is this?
DEM. CLOWN: Lost. Lost. Always lost. Then they find me. In the Mirror Maze they find a face, a face or two or three (laugh).
SIMON: Where’s Amata and Jake?
DEM. CLOWN: Gone. Go---ne. You could say they’re sitting things out. (Singing) When autumn leaves start to fall…
SIMON: Yeah. Nope. I hate clowns.
DEM. CLOWN: I get that a lot.
SIMON: Good for you. See you later.
DEM. CLOWN: But where are you going? The further in you go, the deeper you go.
SIMON: I’ve never been a fan of mazes. Back in the Vault when I was a kid we read about the Minotaur and I only ever asked one question.
DEM. CLOWN: Oh? Do tell (laughs)
SIMON: Instead of fucking around in circles, why not just go in a straight line?
DEM. CLOWN: What?
SFX: GATLING PLASMA FIRES. MIRRORS SHATTER.
DEM. CLOWN: You can’t do that! Rules! Rules! You broke the rules!
SFX: RUNNING.
SIMON: Fuck rules.
SFX: RUNNING.
SFX: CANVAS.
SIMON: Back of the tent…
SFX: CUTTING NOISE. RIPPING.
DEM. CLOWN: Come back! Come back! Oh, he’ll be mad! You were his!
JAKE: Wait! Simon!
AMATA: Come back! You’re killing us!
JAKE: Yeah kill us softly!
YOUNG SIMON: You always run! Always! Stop running from me!
SFX: NIGHT SOUNDS.
SIMON: I’ve had enough of the carnival thanks. It’s night already? How long was I in there?
SFX: RUNNING.
SIMON: Oh shit! Gotta hide…
DARK: Where is he? You let him escape! Fool!
DUST WITCH: I claimed the girl. I was still weak. The fool shoved me into trash cans like refuse!
DARK: The Snake Woman is dead! I want him found! Bring him before me. We have until Midnight when the storm arrives.
COOGER: The last of our guests have left. We are clear. The clown lost his quarry.
DARK: What of the other one? The fair haired hungry one. Clown! Stop lurking in the shadows you cur!
DEM. CLOWN: Cheat! Cheat! He’s a dirty cheat! He scampered and ran. Fled from my blade. Ah! (Throat being squeezed) You’re choking me…
DARK: You know what we are, YOU called to us…like a dog in heat, filling your pathetic existence with infantile attempts at artistry. We are not a country club, nor a bus station housing the worthless and unworthy as they roll from one stop to another looking for reason or reckoning. You failed yo ur first test spectacularly.
DEM. CLOWN: (Scared laughing) She! She! She failed with me!
DARK: Her ledger would make the most aged accountant moan in ecstasy. You barely scrawled your name to a page. Moreover, we do not tolerate failure, but we are not wasteful. Let us…reassign you to an exhibit more fitting…
DEM. CLOWN: No…no!
DARK: Mr. Cooger! Raise this clowns’ feet from the earth and bring him.
DEM. CLOWN: Get off me! (Laughing) Let me be!
DARK: Come witch…time to still this clown’s dark laughter. Time to still this prancing fool. Lose his tongue until I choose to find it again.
DEM. CLOWN: NO! NO!!! I W ILL SEEK! I WILL FIND! I WILL FIND HIM!
SFX: WHISPERING. POWER THRUMS.
DUST WITCH: Silence, goes your dark laughter. Still, you prancing fool.
DARK: Bring our newest exhibit. Let us find a mount for him.
SFX: WALKING AWAY.
SIMON: What the fuck was that…
SFX: TACKLE. GUN COCKED.
CHAD: You! You son of a bitch! Where is she!??
SIMON: Ah! Get off me! Who?
CHAD: SUSIE you piece of shit!
SIMON: Who?
CHAD: My…..my kid.
SIMON: Your what? Look I have no idea what the hell you’re on about. I spent the better part of the afternoon trapped in a mirror maze from hell…wh….why are you covered with hickeys?
CHAD: Nevermind that.
SIMON: Get off me. If you’re looking for answers…we’re losing them. Shoot me or get off me.
CHAD: What answers?
SIMON: Come if you’re coming. We’ll likely survive longer together, and I could use some muscle. There’s something bigger here than the beef you and I have with each other.
CHAD: Still fucking hate you dude.
SIMON: Right back at yah.
SFX: RUNNING QUIETLY.
DARK: My friend, the Beckley Butcher…how many years you stole from your prey all those years ago. All the stolen smiles, the light laughter, the loves, the moans and the screams of mourning. You tore the pages of their books and with wielded blade and cast them to the Earth. Let us pick them up again and you can taste their pages…let the lost years lick you mad.
SIMON: There! Back of the tent. Come on.
SFX: RUNNING. TENT FLAP NOISE
CHAD: This place smells like shit. Must be all them zoo animals.
SIMON: It’s the carousel. Look. What are they doing?
DARK: Let’s see…ah, perfect. Here. The laughing seal. How appropriate. Mr. Cooger if you would be so kind?
COOGER: My pleasure. Enjoy your ride friend.
DARK: Our missing friends…the dark haired adonis and the fair-haired lost child. Take the balloon…release your dust…find them.
DUST WITCH: They shall be found…
DARK: Mr. Cooger, if you wouldn’t mind arranging for our friend here to be unveiled as Mr. Electrico. Let’s see how he dances and laughs riding the lightning.
COOGER: Of course.
SFX: WALKING AWAY.
DARK: Farewell my friend. This ride is on me.
SFX: MASSIVE SWITCH IS THROWN. CAROUSEL BEGINS MOVING FORWARD. CLATTERING CLANKING. PLAYING A FUNERAL DIRGE.
CHAD: This music sucks dude.
SIMON: It’s a funeral dirge.
CHAD: A what?
SIMON: A funeral song. Look…something is happening to him.
CHAD: That clown is looking funny. Like….his face is melting.
SIMON: Look at his hair….he’s aging.
CHAD: Like he’s getting older on that thing?
SIMON: The carousel isn’t a carousel…it’s some kind of time machine. Rolling his years forward.
CHAD: How’s he workin’ it I can’t see?
SIMON: Wait! Stay still damn it!
SFX: WRENCH CLATTERS.
DARK: Eh?
SIMON: Fuck! Run! Run!
CHAD: Fuck that dude.
SFX: SHOTGUN BLASTS.
DARK: (Laughing) Oh yes…that’s the kind of FIRE we need.
SIMON: Run! Go!
SFX: RUNNING.
DARK: WITCCCHHHH! WITCCHHHHH! BIND THESE RUNNERS!
CHAD: (Panting) Where are we going?
SIMON: Fucking hiding your stupid ass. Couldn’t sit still for a minute.
CHAD: There! Gypsy wagon…Mad man whatever Tarot!
SIMON: Mademoiselle Tarot for fuck’s sake. Shh…
SFX: DOOR CREEKS OPEN.
SIMON: Clear…come on.
DUST WITCH: Binndddd these runnersssss…
CHAD: Move your fat ass! She’s coming.
SFX: DOOR CREEKS SHUT.
DUST WITCH: DUSTTTTT! GATHER! BIND!!!!! I SMELL YOUR SOULS…
SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH. PAUSE.
DUST WITCH: Speak to me my dust…speak to me lost skin, dirt of ages and pollination of the never spring…
SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.
SIMON: What the fuck is wrong with you? We’re outnumbered. You charge in there like some kind of fucking bull you’ll get us killed.
CHAD: I don’t fucking hide in a bush like a snowflake. You fight, you get on out there and do it.
SIMON: It’s old in here…look at all this stuff…cobwebs everywhere. This is older than the rest of the carnival.
CHAD: Pictures here…look at this dude. Looks like an elephant. I wonder if he’s rocking that sweet third leg. (Laughs)
SIMON: Newspapers here….dating back over 100 years. All local…all from October. Dark and Cooger’s Autumn Carnival returns 2020. Halloween storm devastates region. Mr. Dark and Mr. Cooger present Shadow Pantomime and Circus 1984. Cooger and Dark Autumn Festival 1936?
CHAD: Look at this crap. Shoes, wallets, purses. Must’ve belonged to people. Hey what’s this?
SIMON: Looks like an old journal. Diary of Reverend Charles Herbert Halloway, Minister of Camden Township. “October 1891…We have had no good fortune since there arrived here the Autumn Carnival. It seems strange to speak of such things in these enlightened days, but a poor, lame servant girl went to the fortune teller to inquire how she might run. Her leg mended, and she then ran mad. It seems they destroy people by granting their dearest wishes, as has been the way of the devil since God created the world. Old folks of this town say they remember such a carnival of evil visiting many autumns past, in the days of their youth. The traveling people swore that they would return, some other Halloween. Their visit ended with a most unusual storm…tonight I return to that damned carnival. May the lord protect me…I can hear them whispering to me…
CHAD: There’s dust all over this junk.
SIMON: No! Don’t disturb the dust!
CHAD: (Blows) (Starts coughing)
SFX: WIND INSIDE THE CARAVAN
DUST WITCH: There you are!
SIMON: She’s here!
CHAD: Let’s just nuke the bitch!
SIMON: God damn it, Chad, weapons won’t work on them! Run!
SFX: DOOR OPEN. RUN ON STAIRS.
CHAD: Bull shit. When it comes to women, when the Chad has a loaded weapon…it always works.
SFX: MISSLE LAUNCHER LOADED. FIRED.
SFX: EXPLOSION AS GYPSY WAGON IS BLOWN APART.
CHAD: (Laughing) Eat a missile you old bitch!
SFX: WIND SUCKED INWARD AND THEN EXPLODES OUTWARD.
SIMON: I don’t believe it….look…
DUST WITCH: Silence these tongues….bind these runners…
SIMON: She’s sending the dust! Come on!
CHAD: It’s…fuck dude (Coughing) get away from me you old cow!
SFX: GUNSHOTS
SIMON: (Coughing) Don’t…breathe it…
DUST WITCH: Silence these tongues. Bind these runners. Yes…yes. Quiet and still. Still and quiet. Now. Walking forth…slow and steady. Following me…
SFX: WALKING REECEDES.
SCENE 12: INT. FREAK TENT
SFX: ELECTRICITY ARCS.
DARK: Mr. Cooger, behold our newest freak, our latest marvel… MISTER ELECTRICO! The shriveled corpse, the Jester and the Fool, the Ash Clown with his porcelain paint and desiccated heart. See him dance and jump…aged a century, a relic of the Old War before the cleansing flames.
COOGER: She returns with the twins.
DARK: Ah! Excellent. Just in time for our final act. Thunderheads approach and we must complete our business here.
DUST WITCH: Quiet and meek. Bound and still.
DARK: Let us return their still tongues. Their silent voices.
DUST WITCH: Choked in dust return to me…free the tongues, so says I….
SIMON: (Sharp inhale) Move…I can’t move.
CHAD: (Sharp inhale) Hey. She bitch! You missed a little. (Spits in her face)
DUST WITCH: (Angry hiss) AH HHH! You dare!
DARK: Silence. Mr. Cooger! Lights please!
SFX: LIGHTS THROWN.
DARK: Gentlemen! Welcome to the final act of Cooger and Dark’s Pandemonium Shadow Show, a pantomime in dust centuries old. Returning to Appalachia for one night only. Your host this evening, introductions all around. My name is Dark, better known as the Illustrated Man.
CHAD: Like…you’re a cartoon?
SFX: UNBUTTONED.
DARK: In your simple tongue, the painted one, the tattooed wonder…monsters, madmen and serpents, there…the Dust Witch…there Mr. Pinhead and the Fat Man…
CHAD: Where’s the Snake Woman below your belt? (Laughs) How about you let me out of this chair, and I can tattoo my boot on your ass.
DARK: How predictably vulgar. (Closer to Chad whispering) I could kill you so easily.
CHAD: You can certainly try. Plenty of others have. This fuckwit next to me unloaded two barrels into me once. But I think you’ve been running this shit show for a while now and if you did, you’d have done it.
SIMON: I know who you are. My mother used to tell me stories her mother told her with a warning, “Beware the Autumn People.”
DARK: We are the hungry ones.
SIMON: Where do you come from? The dust. Where do you go to? The grave.
DARK: Your torments and pains, your dark desires and shattered dreams…your unspoken lust and wants…oh they call us from the deep places like dogs in the night. We rise, we perform. We dance and we feed and feed well.
CHAD: Where’s Susie you smooth talking asshole?
Mr. DARK: All in due time.
SIMON: You feed on people’s nightmares and dreams…like parasites.
DARK: You are like soft churned butter spread on our plain bread, unctuous and just a little sweet from delicious pain and yearning.
CHAD: Dude I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. What is this school?
DARK: Your misery is sweet Mr. Johnson. We seek it, we lick it with lapping tongue.
CHAD: Where the fuck is Susie?
DARK: Right you are. Behold! The Parade of the Lost and the Damned. The refuse of humanity reshaped by the dust into beautiful shadows. Ladies and gentlemen behold the Skeleton…the ruin of strength. The monument to a towering bulk devoid of brain. See him now…
CHAD: Moose? What….what the fuck did you do to him?
MOOSE: I….I’m hungry….so hungry…
DARK: And yet you’ll find no sustenance in creation to fill you up now, nor fill you out.
SIMON: (Murmuring to self) A choice…he needs to know what we want and give it to us.
COOGER: The World’s Smallest Woman and her Talking Doll…
CHAD: S…Susie….what hell did you do to her?
SIMON: Oh my God…
SUSIE: Where am I? I can’t see. Am I pretty?
COOGER: The eternal child, with skin flayed like it’s trying to peel away from the horror of what she has become.
DARK: Indeed Mr. Cooger, now the feminine Aphrodite has the body of a woman in miniature, but with eyes that no longer see. You shall live out your days inside perfection, but never see it for yourself. Yes…you are very pretty.
CHAD: Listen to me you sons of bitches…when I get out of this chair I’m going to burn this place. You hear me! DARK! LET ME UP!
ELLA: Du…stt…..st oppp. (Electrical short)
COOGER: The doll born out of time, a lesser demon dwarfed by the mere shadow of us. Drowning in dust…a voice lost. You are no more of a threat than a rain filled pothole.
COOGER: The Two He--aded Lady…
PATSY: You are beautiful…so beautiful…
PATSY: No, you are…. (crying) We are beautiful…
SIMON: Patsy….oh I’m going to be sick…
DARK: The cheerleader obsessed with her own vanity at last finds the approval and admiration she seeks: herself. Your anger, your hatred, your bias and judgement were just masks. If we were to drink your soul, we would be left parched. You are as devoid of empathy as you are of kindness. What an emptiness you have, using your physical body alone to charm and seduce. At last you’ve found an approving eye. A sycophant twin.
COOGER: Our swine, the horror of Appalachia, the Half Pig Half Man…
CHAD: Punch…oh nooo…..nooooo
PUNCH: (Grunting) More….more….more….
DARK: The forgotten man buried in the shell of a monster. Look at you now, your humanity restored, and yet you are but a half man, the swine looking for swill, crawling in the mud and forever seeking the comforting bosom of a mother not found in any grave. You shall dig in the dirt forever eating to fill that empty hole left by man’s bullet.
COOGER: And our dual act…
JAKE: I cannot hear
DARK: Ah, yes! Our snoops and chatters, the Half Man, Half Woman.
SIMON: Jake….Amata…what did you do? What the hell did you do?
DARK: Yes, Jake, the casual monster so quick with a sarcastic quip, a charm and earnestness of a wolf in the pelt of a sheep. How you feasted on so many, powerful and strong…and yet you crumbled at the touch of your desired…like a domesticated dog on a leash. Your other half, Amata, the meddling know-it-all who gets it more wrong than her id and ego allow her to face. You care for so very little and in the year to come I wonder how far your leaking heart will allow you to go?
AMATA: We are one…
JAKE: Always one…
AMATA: We are together
JAKE: The complete
AMATA: I cannot think
COOGER: Mr. Willard, the Demon Midget
SLICK WILLY: Small….small…please don’t crush me…
DARK: And last but not least. The Seller of Lightning, the Perverse Wanderer so quick to stay ahead of the lightning and the storms that he never stays to fight them. He lusts over smooth thighs and perfumed skin. Now the ladies of countless ages will look at him and laugh long and loud.
SIMON: What is the point of all this?
DARK: I could ----hear your hearts beating from miles away, though my ears are not as finely tuned as the Witch. Your heart’s desire…your deepest unspoken yearnings. You two, the personification of light and dark…born mere minutes apart with an ocean and hatred between you. How would you like to join us? To leave this place…travel the winds…dust can travel anywhere and everywhere.
CHAD: Not my monkeys. Not my circus.
DARK: Chad Johnson, the bulging, swaggering athlete. Your Daddy wasn’t like other Daddy’s was he? He found solace and comfort in the bottoms of bottles and illegal moonshine. Buried his seed between the thighs of any woman with a pulse. I wonder how many brothers and sisters you have?
CHAD: Fuck you.
DARK: Imagine…n o mother’s soft embrace, reassuring words, bedtime stories and propped up dreams. You were born in the shadow of a monster who spoke with fists and vulgarities…is it little wonder that you spotted weakness in that one there….saw the shadow of the mewling infant Daddy ignored and hated him to the very bone?
CHAD: I am NOT like him.
DARK: No…quite true. You are running your fastest mile yet, a triathlon in Appalachia, serving as father, brother and nursemaid to little Susie there, the World’s Smallest Woman. Do you think you can sustain that? You fake love like a 20 year bride fakes ecstasy. What if you could show little Susie the world? Leave this place…be unbound in time and place? Give her the life you never had. Wanting for nothing?
CHAD: Get out of my face…
DARK: Perhaps we could sweeten the deal? You could be reborn as the Great Calistro, Magician of the Dark Arts…how many times you could bury dear Simon there and put him every day where you were put…in the earth.
CHAD: I’ve never been one for words, but if you were a real man you’d be putting your fists up instead of spitting words.
DARK: So be it. Mr. Rex then? Ohhh you….what a piece of work you are. Like your most hated foe over there, Mommy and Daddy shuffled off the mortal coil when you were but a boy with deaths that were so comically pointless. An overdose on breakfast cereal for father and carried off into the darkness by Radroaches for mother.
SIMON: Fuck you buddy. You think you’re the only one who can see through people? I wonder how many roads you’ve travelled. How empty an existence you have. A man, once perhaps, ignored and invisible…powerless and weak.
DARK: (Fierce) Oh no, no, no. FROZEN inside, that little boy. That lonely, lonely boy. So hungry for human contact, to be seen and heard and touched that as much as you crave it, it is like a hair sweater worn in penance. How you squirm in it, how unworthy you must feel. So you run because you always run. How many roads have YOU travelled? The map of your travels around Appalachia looks a child’s squiggle and their first attempt at a circle. You are circling the drain…growing older and angrier with each mile. Any day now you will light a match to snuff out any light and joy you see.
SIMON: It’s not like that….I’m not.
DARK: But you are! In your own voice! (Taunting) Appalachia, Day Whatever. I have discovered nothing in a pile of nothing. I found friendship then I ate him, or abandoned him. Your tapes…your endless droning. Who are these for exactly? Does it make you feel like you are being heard if you scream into this machine?
SIMON: Get to the fucking point already.
DARK: I am old. Older than the hills. I have no progeny, no family. What I wish, what my heart years for is to mentor another. I could be like a father to you, the one lost. I can take you back, a ride on a painted horse on the singing carousel, back through time…slough off this moldy, angry shell to the purest part of you. Lost innocence restored. Join me…
SIMON: I’d rather die. I’m good at that.
DARK: Don’t reject a gift so simply. Let’s turn back these tapes and your days to…. 20? 20…what a year…on the verge of manhood…speak now. Say yes or you’ll miss it. No? Gone!
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 19? Yes…19…the summer’s edge of youth. No? 19 is gone!
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 17…school almost done. You know yourself and your limits. 17? Isssss gone!
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 16…..
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 15….
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 14….
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 13….
SFX: TAPE SMASHED.
DARK: 12.
SIMON: Stop!
DARK: Yes…12. The year of loss. Right there. 12?
SIMON: Please. I….I want it back. I want it all back.
DARK: You do. Don’t you?
SIMON: (Crying) I’m so tired…I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being alone. I’m so fucking alone.
DARK: Then come, let it be done. A free ride round and then a new life. A new chapter. Witch…
DUST WITCH: Unbind this runner…free his legs…let him run free.
DARK: Come my boy, take my hand. We have so much work to do. The Good Work.
SIMON: What about him?
DARK: We care for our own. He is useless to me. Today is your birthday, so let me give you what you failed to accomplish. Come…Mr. Cooger? Witch…stop this fool’s clock.
SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.
DUST WITCH: Yessss….quiet time…let little Susie watch….
CHAD: What are you doing?
DUST WITCH: Hear your heart…hear it beating? Down. Down on the floor. Lie in repose.
SFX: BEATING.
CHAD: What are you doing? Get off me!
DUST WITCH: Stop your clock. Stop your heart. Hear it? Slow….
SFX: BEATING SLOWER.
CHAD: (Panting) Ahh…
DUST WITCH: Slow, very slow.
CHAD: (Panting) S….stop….
SFX: BEATING SLOWER. IRREGULAR.
DUST WITCH: Slower…slowest…
CHAD: (Panting) Susie….
SFX: BEATING SLOWS….
DUST WITCH: Slower. Stop.
SFX: HEARTBEAT STOPS.
CHAD: (Death rattle exhale)
DUST WITCH: And the sleeper shall sleep.
SUSIE: Ch….chaadd?
DUST WITCH: Silence little one.
SUSIE: Chad?
CHAD: (Exhale and starts to laugh)
DUST WITCH: What? Impossible! Slow! Slow!
CHAD: You stupid bitch (laughing). Your act may have worked before. But we die all the time here. Guess what? We come back.
DUST WITCH: Stop! Stop laughing! SLOW!
CHAD: (Laughing) Get off me.
DUST WITCH: Stop! Get back!
CHAD: Now that your little spell is broken. Here’s an ass kick I owed that guy. Your old Electric dude could use a lap dance.
SFX: DROP KICK. DUST WITCH FLIES INTO ELECTRIC CHAIR.
SFX: EXPLOSION OF ELECTICITY.
DUST WITCH: Nooooooo! (Screaming)
CHAD: Susie…I’m- sorry…I’ll be back for you. I need to take care of something first.
SUSIE: Where is Chad?
CHAD: I’ll be back.
SFX: RUNNING.
SCENE 13: INT. CAROUSEL TENT.
SIMON: Will it hurt?
DARK: Quite the opposite…it’s like sailing in an open lake. Choose one.
SIMON: That one.
DARK: The ebony mare. An appropriate choice. On you go. Mr. Cooger?COOGER: Enjoy the ride…
SFX: CAROUSEL STARTS UP BACKWARDS. A FUNERAL DIRGE IN REVERSE.
DARK: Back….back peel the years….younger, younger still.
CHAD: Hey asshole.
SIMON: Chad!
CHAD: Your old broad’s breath smells like ass.
DARK: Mr. Cooger! Stop him!
CHAD: Thanks for sharing that you guys hate lightning. Here’s something to feed on.
SIMON: The Tesla! Stop him!
SFX: TESLA DISCHARGES.
COOGER: (Screaming) AHHHHHhhhhh!
SFX: EXPLOSION INTO DUST.
SFX: CAROU=SEL SHORT CIRCUITS.
DARK: No! You fool! Stop!
CHAD: This ride is on me. You can have Simon…
SFX: PUNCH. STUMBLES INTO MACHINE.
DARK: Ah! My leg…stuck…
SFX: TESLA DISCHARGES.
SFX: CAROUSEL SPINS WILDLY OUT OF CONTROL.
SFX: VORTEX AND LEAVES RIP THE TENT APART.
CHAD: Funny thing about dust dude…it always blows away!
SIMON: Noo! Noooo!
DARK: The stormmmm…..
SFX: SMASHING MACHINERY. SCREAMS. CALLIOPE IMPLODES. TRAIN IS TORN FROM ITS TRACKS.
SFX: VORTEXT AND CAROUSEL SPIN FASTER, FASTER.
SIMON: Stop! Stooooooooooooooooooooop
SFX: IMPLOSION OF ENERGY AND WIND FOLLOWED BY SILENCE.
SCENE 14: EXT. BROFIT HAUNTED MAZE – NIGHT
SFX: HAMMERING NOISES.
CHAD/ SUSIE: (Singing together https://youtu.be/q2rjEUpmzow)
Or on some dark and stormy night, while the tempest blows,
If someone whistles,
SUSIE (just): Meow!
CHAD/SUSIE: That's Mysterious Mose!
CHAD: Huh. That’s weird.
SUSIE: What’s weird?
CHAD: It’s the deja boo feelin’.
ELLA: A, B, C, D, E, F, G…Ella’s voice is finally free. Tee hee!
SUSIE: Uhhh….I dunno.
PUNCH: Chode where you want meatbag leftovers?
CHAD: Down in the back by that inflatable snowman.
PUNCH: Punch hate clowns. Stupid clowns…good meat with greasy yuck paint…
CHAD: Yeah, I hate clowns too.
SUSIE: (Humming)
CHAD: Hey, kid.
SUSIE: Yeah?
CHAD: Come here for a minute.
SUSIE: (Giggling) Stop mushing me! Why are you acting all weird?
CHAD: (Verge of tears) I love you.
SUSIE: Well I love you too!
CHAD: Come on…let’s get our maze of death ready. This is gonna be a great Halloween.
CHAD/SUSIE: That's Mysterious Mose!
He sees all, he knows all, he gets in everywhere,
Some night, he might wait for you upon the stair!
So when you're going down the cellar, walk upon your toes,
And if someone whistles,
SUSIE (just): Whoooooo!
CHAD/SUSIE: That's Mysterious Mose! (Laughing together)
SFX: TRANSITION SLOWLY TO PUMPKIN HOUSE AMBIANCE.
HANDY: It can't be called the Pumpkin House without more pumpkins!
(Singing) Trick or treat!
Trick or treat!
Trick or treat for Hall-o-weeeeeen!
Hurry up there Mister Rex! We need more pumpkins! What’s the matter with you?
SIMON: (Verge of tears) Nothing. It’s…yeah. Just give me a minute.
SFX: LONG MOURNFUL TRAIN WHISTLE THAT FADES INTO THE DISTANCE.
SIMON: Did you hear?
HANDY: Hear what?
SIMON: Nothing. It…it was nothing.
SFX: LEAVES RUSTLE. PUMPKIN CARVING NOISES.
SIMON: Some nights out here when the leaves rustle and blow I close my eyes and the abyss opens beneath me. I fall into a fathomless void and I remember things best left forgotten that vanish away me when I awaken. When were little, Jake used to ask me, “What scares you?” I’d check my closet and under my bed and say, simply “ghosts.” But as the calendars fall away and my eyes grow older, I realize that we’re all afraid of ghosts. Not those from gothic fiction that clutch chains or wail in dark places, but the ghost in the mirror. We’re all haunted. By ourselves. Happy Halloween.
SFX: OUTRO SONG.
No matter where you "catch your pods" you can find us!
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