Vintage Scripts (a collection of original amateur screenplays).

[Low_Roads]

Part 3​

While the group sits in dejected silence, the telephone rings. Gruber waves for Kincaid to answer.

Kincaid: Doc Gruber's office. (pause) This is the sheriff. What's that? Joe's at it again, eh? Okay, I'll be right down. (he hangs up) Crapulous Joe's been raidin' trash cans again. I better go round him up.

Biff: Crapulous?

Prof: (highly amused, in a dry sort of way) Ah, yes. A synonym for "inebriated", Biff.

Biff knits his brow, pursing his lips.

Gruber: Drunk.

Biff: Oh.

Kincaid: (to Peabody and Biff) Why don't you boys come along? Old Joe's always up to somethin' fit to make you split your sides laughin'.

Prof: (to Biff) It does sound interesting... purely from an anthropological standpoint, of course.

Biff agrees.

Mary: Oh, Papa--may I come, too? (she makes calf-eyes at Biff.)

Kincaid: Wal, I don't know...

Doc: It's okay, Jack. I can handle things here.

Kincaid: Wal... okay.

Everyone save Grisly and Doc exit. Gruber goes to the surgical freezer, only to find all the pop bottles empty. From off-screen there is a loud hiccup. Gruber looks disgusted.

EXTERIOR. A back ally, lined with garbage cans. Joe sits on an inverted empty, waiting impatiently. Upon hearing the arrival of Kincaid's squad car, he hops to his feet and takes up a garbage can lid as one might take up a cafeteria tray, a la Sylvester the Cat in Warner's Looney Toons. Humming "I'm Just an Angel in Disguise", Joe selects various items from different receptacles and places them on his "tray". The sheriff and the others walk into the alley. Joe smiles coyly.

Kincaid: Well, well. If it ain't some poor hungry Injin. Poor old redskin. (with a distinct air of affability) Come on, Joe, let's go get you a hamburger.

Joe: Me thank you, Sheriff. After hamburger, me take you to meet great god Zippy Totec.

Biff: Doesn't he mean Xipe Totec, the Aztec god of the dead?

Mary is standing very close to Biff, a moon-calf expression of longing adorning her features.

Prof: So it would seem, my boy. Xipe Totec--a vampire god, called "Night Drinker" by his worshippers--a blood-lusting deity, with great luminous eyes and razor-sharp fangs...

Biff turns, sees Mary, and screams.

Prof: Perhaps we've latched onto something here. (to Joe) I say, noble savage, where was it that you encountered this awesome divinity?

Joe stands dumbly, his mouth agape.

Kincaid: He means where'd ya see ol' Zippy, Joe.

Joe: Oh. Him on sand valley over great rise.

Prof: Do you think you could show us the way?

Joe nods in an affirmative manner.

Prof: (to Sheriff) Marshal, we must follow this to its conclusion. We can pick up the others on the way out.

Peabody starts out of alley; Kincaid is uncertain. Sensing that he is alone, Peabody turns back.

Prof: I say, do come along.

Needless to say, Kincaid considers this an affront to his dignity--but he complies nonetheless.

EXTERIOR. The open desert. Joe leads the intrepid band, which now consists of the entire cast. Biff and Kincaid support Old Grisly, who has been straight-jacketed.

Kincaid: I hope you're right about this, Prof. I'd feel like an awful idjit dragging Old Grisly around all over the desert, if'n you ain't.

Joe: Not far now. Right over this hill.

They pass over the small rise to view the gleaming space craft.

Doc: Great day in the morning!

Prof: Amazing! Undoubtedly a benevolent delegation from a neighboring planet.

There is a cut-away shot which reveals two great alien feet tromping through the desert sand.

When we return to the cast, Professor Peabody has his back to the group (facing the saucer.) Hands on his lapels, he has embarked on one of his interminable discourses.

Prof: Why, just last week I delivered a dissertation on the ramifications of extraterrestrial ambassadorship...

A great shadow falls across the scientist, prompting him to look up.

Prof: Holy Shit!!!

Old Grisly grunts and nods his agreement, momentarily taking one straight-jacketed arm free to point, firstly at the Professor and secondly at the off-screen creature, then nonchalantly placing the arm back into its former position.


Next... Part 4.

 

[Journia]

Heheh, this is getting better and better! More holiness!!!

 

[Low_Roads]

My grateful thanks, J! I couldn't be happier that you've enjoyed this latest! Please rest assured that I'll do everything possibile to keep the holiness flowing! Considering the story's title, it sure beats the alternative!

 

[Journia]

My grateful thanks, J! I couldn't be happier that you've enjoyed this latest! Please rest assured that I'll do everything possibile to keep the holiness flowing! Considering the story's title, it sure beats the alternative!

yeah, but now we see why its holy.

 

[Cbarton]

Interestings movement in the plot. Good to know that the prof has sanctified the expression as well...

Soon we get to see what 'Zippy' and the gang look like. Let's hope they already enjoyed a pint or two at the doc's office for our character's sake...

 

[Low_Roads]

Interestings movement in the plot. Good to know that the prof has sanctified the expression as well...

About time, too! No one would ever take the phrase seriously if ol' Grisly had been its only spokesman!

Soon we get to see what 'Zippy' and the gang look like. Let's hope they already enjoyed a pint or two at the doc's office for our character's sake...

Yes indeed, Zippy's comely features are only a reverse shot away! And we're hardly done with snacks yet! A shame we didn't drop a few product placements. (well... we did, in fact, upcoming. Without clearing any of the rights, either. Just another reason this project could never have played professional venues...)

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 4​

Finally the shadow-caster is revealed--a monstrous, green, plant-like creature who looms over the assembly and looses a deafening roar of defiance.

Joe: (with a casual air) Ho! Zippy Totec, my old friend. You want'um drink o' firewater?

Old Grisly breaks away from the group and rushes madly toward the great plant. It scoops the prospector up in its thorny claw.

Kincaid: Hold it right there, green-boy! This is the law talkin'!

The creature dangles Grisly upside down. Jack Kincaid raises his pistol, but Doc Gruber restrains him.

Doc: Careful, Jack! You might hit Old Grisly.

The creature pops the prospector into his maw. He swallows loudly.

Biff: Professor, this creature is hostile!

Peabody opens his mouth to comment, then does a magnificent take.

The creature licks his fingers. This done, he rolls his tongue around his mouth, then picks at a side-fang with his little finger. He spits out an irregularly shaped object, which lands at the feet of our stalwart adventurers. It is Old Grisly's combination pick-and-hammer.

Biff: We must get to a better vantage point.

The Professor nods his agreement, and the survivors adjourn to the top of the rise, out of the monster's reach. That is, all adjourn save Jack Kincaid. He stands rooted to the sands, arms rigidly at his side, flexing and unflexing his hands. He shifts his burning gaze from the pick to the monster and back again.

Mary: (growing alarmed) Papa--come on!

Kincaid: That... that varmint just et an American citizen!

Kincaid snatches up the pick and launches himself toward the space obscenity. Mary screams.

Doc: Jack--!

The sheriff and the creature confront each other. Kincaid sinks the pick into the wrist of the surprised alien.

Kincaid: Take that, you sumbitch!

To the amazement of both combatants, there is a great spurt of green fluid as the creature's thorny claw comes away from it's limb and thuds to the desert floor. The monster draws back, cradling its mangled arm and howling in pain.

Doc: Jack, you damn fool! Get out of there!

The sheriff backs away from the alien, then scrambles to the top of the rise. Mary puts her arms around the new arrival.

Mary: Oh, Papa!

Prof: You are a brave man, Marshal.

Doc: And a stupid one! Jack, you could've been killed!

Kincaid: Killed? Hey, yeah!

He faints. Mary does her best to revive him.

Biff: Everyone--look!

The sheriff revives, and everyone looks.

The space creature stands, no longer in pain, and stoically regards his mangled limb. To the amazement of the watching Earthlings, the limb regenerates itself, a brand-new claw sprouting from the wrist formerly occupied by the old one.

Prof: (to Biff) My boy, do you see what this indicates?

Biff: I think so, sir.

Peabody puts his hand on Biff's shoulder.

Prof: Biff, do you suppose...

Biff: I'll do my best, Professor.

Prof: Stout fellow!

The brave lad races to the spot where the severed claw fell. The monster lunges, but Biff dodges the powerful thrust of its arm, scooping up the amputated member and returning to the ranks of his comrades.

Prof: Well done, my boy!

Meanwhile, the creature has been busy. The horrid mass of chlorophyll extracts a strange-looking device from its belt and waves it over a convenient cactus plant. Slowly, the cactus moves its limbs, seemingly coming to active life. The mighty vegetable repeats the process and a number of barrel cacti begin to move.

Prof: Oh, my word! Biff, this latest action portends great evil for us all. Perhaps for the entire world.

Biff: Indeed it does, Professor. Sheriff, we'd better get back to town.

Kincaid nods, and the assembly turns to depart.


Next... Part 5.

 

[Cbarton]

~~~The Cacti come marching 2 by 2 hurrah...hurrah...~~~~

An animated cacti army? Sounds pretty formidable! Should be interesting to see how are brave sheriff and the gang can fight these off.

Poor ol' Gris takes the Chewy/TeeKee route...sad end for the crusty old character. No wonder Joe drinks so much, if this is the creature he's used to seeing...

 

[Low_Roads]

~~~The Cacti come marching 2 by 2 hurrah...hurrah...~~~~

An animated cacti army? Sounds pretty formidable! Should be interesting to see how are brave sheriff and the gang can fight these off.

I hope it'll prove to be! A plant/mammal showdown is inevitable, of course!

Poor ol' Gris takes the Chewy/TeeKee route...sad end for the crusty old character. No wonder Joe drinks so much, if this is the creature he's used to seeing...

Yeah... Joe has one of those "funny" alcoholic conditions, similar to Otis Campbell's on the "Andy Griffith Show"... though chronic, it never debilitates and always serves to make the afflicted amusing. This was the only kind of drunk possible in light entertainment from the '50s and '60s, which extended naturally into this early '70s follow-up. Booze (along with other milder liquid refreshment) will serve as an ongoing comedy prop right on into the wrap-up!

Poor ol' Grisly... I hated to see him done in, but he'd pretty much worn out his one-note joke persona. The homo-cannabis does indeed spring form the same proud tradition of floral villainy as Chewy or Teekee... always unashamedly ravenous (for them, snacking on a human bears no more negative baggage than one of us chomping a carrot!) I had hoped CT would be back by now to wrap up the comic side of "Little Shop of Monsters"... he sure is taking a looong summer vacation (hope everything's all right with him). For those who simply can't wait, we happily have the text story in its entirety in your Hawk's Nest forum! A gastronomic delight and warmly recommended!

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 5​

INTERIOR. The office of the sheriff. Kincaid, Mary, Gruber, and Joe sit in an air of expectancy.

Kincaid: How long'll they be in there? It's been an hour now.

Joe: And me no get no hamburger.

Doc: I think we could all use something.

Doc Gruber begins searching for something on Kincaid's desk. He even gingerly lifts the alien's claw, heretofore employed as a paperweight, and examines some papers heretofore thereunder. He replaces the claw.

Doc: Jack, where do you keep your copy of the local directory?

Kincaid: Huh?

Doc: The 'phone book.

Kincaid: Oh. Why didn't you say so? Hell, I don't know. Ask Mary.

Mary already stands behind Gruber with the directory. Unmindful of this, the doctor starts to turn.

Doc: Mary...

He sees the girl and jumps.

Doc: Oh. There you are. Where does Jack...

She hands him a half sheet of paper.

Doc: Oh. Thank you. (to Kincaid) Bigger than last year's.

Kincaid: It's a growin' town.

Doc: That's a fact. Delivered two sets of twins last week.

Kincaid: Do tell? Looks like it's time to change the population signs on the outskirts of town. How many does that make, sweetheart?

Mary, who is at the file cabinet, extracts a sheet of paper and studies it.

Mary: Thirty-four.

Kincaid: (shaking his head incredulously) A growin' town.

Doc: (into the telephone receiver) Hello? Tumbleweed Cafe? Hold on a minute. (placing his hand over the receiver) What'll you have, Joe?

Joe: Big Mac. And a beer.

Doc silently counts those present in the office, using his fingers while cradling the receiver on his shoulder. He looks at the door to the side-room and counts two more fingers.

Doc: (into the receiver) Hello... say, is this Mrs. Cooper? It is? This is Doc. How're the new twins?

Joe: Get on with it.

Doc: (a bit peeved at Joe, but containing himself) I'm at the Sheriff's. Could you have Fred bring over... uh... six hamburgers... five coffees. (looking vengefully at Joe) And a Coke!

Joe: There no justice.

Biff enters from the side-room.

Kincaid: Say, how long are you and the Prof gonna hole up in there?

Biff: A bit longer, I'm afraid. We finished the chemical tests on the scrapings from the claw, but we need more information. I'm afraid we'll have to dissect it.

Mary perches on the edge of the desk and makes calf-eyes at Biff.

Doc: I have some scalpels at the office you can use.

Biff: That would be swell!

Unnoticed by the company, the claw on the table comes to life and begins crawling toward Mary's posterior.

Doc Gruber dons his hat and coat. He starts for the door.

Doc: I'll be back in a few minutes.

Biff: Thanks. I know the Professor will appreciate it.

Gruber exits. Biff stands uncomfortably by the desk, acutely aware of Mary's silent adoration.

Biff: (to Mary) Nice weather.

Mary: Oh, yes!

There is a cut-away shot of the crawling hand as it nears its target.

Jack Kincaid crosses the office and confronts Professor Peabody's young assistant.

Kincaid: You're gonna have to cut up the claw?

Biff nods.

Kincaid: Wal--shoot! I was... wal, I was hopin' to keep it... sorta as a souvenir... you know, a trophy.

Mary: (reproachfully) Papa--how perfectly awful!

Kincaid: Wal, it's the truth.

The claw stands poised at the brink of its objective.

Mary suddenly sits bolt upright.

Mary: (her eyes very wide) Oh--Mr. Carter!

Mary blushes and lowers her eyes as Biff looks at her incredulously, then looks at both his own hands. Kincaid glowers at the lad. Biff looks back at the lawman, innocent yet sheepishly unable to explain that innocence. Biff desperately looks at Joe for help, but the Indian merely performs a shaming gesture with his fingers.

At this rather dramatic juncture, Doctor Gruber returns. He is carrying a tray heaped with white packages. Biff glances from Mary to her father. She bats her eyes at him. The sheriff still glowers.

The doctor produces a small leather case. He addresses Biff.

Doc: Here are the instruments, Carter.

Biff: Th-th-thanks!

He takes the case and the claw, and bolts into the side-room.

Doc: (to Biff's back) Be careful with them. They're almost new. (to Kincaid) Say, what's eating him?

Kincaid places one arm protectively around his daughter's shoulders.

Kincaid: (venomously) City slickers!

As Gruber removes his hat and scratches his scalp in bewilderment, the camera pans to Crapulous Joe, who holds a wrapped hamburger in his teeth while he searches among the packages on the tray. Suddenly, his eyes pop from his skull.

There is a CU, as Joe's hand removes the familiar shape of a fountain-style "Coke" glass, with the equally familiar legend "Coca-Cola" inscribed upon it. The camera pans up, as the Indian incredulously raises the glass to eye level. It is filled with orange soda. Joe drops the hamburger from his mouth.

Joe: This town stink.


Next... Part 6.

 

[Cbarton]

finally got on and found the next installment...

Poor Joe...stiffed again. The white man fails him yet again.

Quite a frisky claw there, LBH! Or was this an attempt to start an initial feeding frenzy? Guess we get to wait and see...

 

[Low_Roads]

Poor Joe...stiffed again. The white man fails him yet again.

Well... the white man and Murphy's Law. Actually, Murphy was probably a white man too. He screws with everybody, of course... typical honky!

The detached claw was powered primarily by the ongoing necessities of farce, although its randy independence does play into the thematics established in the preceding installment. One might look upon it as a transplanted cutting... you'd think we'd have learned something from the kudzu debacle! Biff and the Prof have the right idea: eliminate all samples immediately. As painfully as possible.

 

[Journia]

Nice, nice, nice. I enjoyed these last three parts. each one more hilarious than the preceding one. everything from the "That plant et an American Citizen!" to thefinal, "This town STINK," It really kept me entertained and interested. Which is what I've always come to expect from you Littllebighead.

 

[Low_Roads]

Thank you J! I'm thoroughly delighted to hear it! It's a pleasure to know that this antique text can still entertain!

By the way, I notice you've scored your own TTC Author's forum! Wonderfully well merited... our Community doesn't feature a more manic, enthusiastically rabid word-slinger! I'll be dropping by soon to see how you've decorated the place and to offer my official congrats!

 

[Journia]

Thank you J! I'm thoroughly delighted to hear it! It's a pleasure to know that this antique text can still entertain!

By the way, I notice you've scored your own TTC Author's forum! Wonderfully well merited... our Community doesn't feature a more manic, enthusiastically rabid word-slinger! I'll be dropping by soon to see how you've decorated the place and to offer my official congrats!

Yes, this antique piece as you put it does entertain quite well!

And thank you, I'll eagerly await your visit! 😛

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 6​

A CU of the clock on the wall. Ninety minutes magically pass in a few seconds.

Kincaid dozes in a convenient chair, while Joe lies curled up on the desk. Both men snore heavily. Only Mary and the doctor remain in the land of the waking.

Mary: (her own eyes sparkling) Did you notice the way Biff's eyes twinkle when he talks?

Doctor Gruber stops smoking his pipe long enough to open his mouth to comment. He instead performs a magnificent take, delivering Mary his best "what the hell?" look. The girl, for her part, is oblivious. She gazes off into the distance and heaves a soulful sigh.

At this point, Biff and his mentor noisily enter from the side-room, waking the sheriff from his slumber. The Indian, on the other hand, continues to snore throughout the ensuing dialogue.

Each newcomer carries a chart. The Professor tacks both charts to a convenient bulletin board. He unrolls the right-hand chart. Meanwhile, Kincaid towers over Biff and glowers. Biff, who stands beside the left-handed chart, grins in a worried and sheepish manner.

Prof: Biff and I have compiled some data, based on the conclusions we have drawn from our tests, and based on what observations we were able to make during our brief encounter with the space creature. (he unrolls the first chart, a diagram drawing of the monster, and secures the lower end with a thumbtack) This nasty-tempered brute is no member of the animal kingdom, as we are. Rather, it is an evolutionary outgrowth of the plant family. Highly advanced, of course, but a plant nonetheless. As nearly as I can judge, what we are dealing with is a male plant of the genus Cannabis.

Peabody pauses to let these facts sink in. Kincaid mulls the information over, repeating "Cannabis, Cannabis" softly to himself. He reexamines an "Argosy" magazine where "Cannabis, Weed of Death" heads an article in bold print.

Kincaid: Now hold on, Prof. Do you mean to say that thing trompin' around out there is a giant stalk of Marijuanie?

Prof: Yes. A Homo-cannabis, if you will. And as a plant, it has no vital organs. Hence, when you fired your revolver into its body, there was no effect.

Kincaid: I didn't fire my gun, Prof.

Prof: Oh. Well if you had, there would be no effect.

Biff unrolls the second chart; it depicts two galaxies with a dotted line between them. As he does so, the other chart rolls up, flipping its nether thumbtack across the room, where it is heard to ricochet off of various objects. It lands in Joe's drink, temporarily waking him. He looks at it, then crashes again.

Biff does a slow burn, a la Edgar Kennedy. He pulls his chart half-way down. As he does so, the other chart rolls halfway up. He plays cat and mouse with the two charts for a few minutes, which finally results in both charts violently rolling up. Another undone tack rockets through a window pane.

The lad motions for Professor Peabody to pull his chart down at the same time he pulls down his chart. The scientist nods, and they both perform the deed, vengefully thumbtacking the offending charts into place. Peabody and the boy are exultingly triumphant, smiling and shaking hands in the foreground of the scene. At this moment the two charts, in the background, simultaneously roll skyward.

Biff makes a helpless gesture toward the heavens. He resignedly rolls down only his chart and thumbtacks the victorious scroll into place.

Biff: The appearance and design of the space craft lead us to believe that it is an intergalactic vessel; that is, a ship designed to travel from one galaxy to another. The Andromeda Galaxy is the galaxy nearest our own Milky Way. Thus, we have inferred that the creature comes from there.

Doc: But why? What does it want?

During the following speech by the Professor, there are a number of flashbacks, recapping the lift-off of the space saucer, the landing of the same, and the munching of poor Old Grisly.

Prof: That simplest of commodities--food. As we had occasion to observe, the plant-man is carnivorous, a meat-eater; somewhat like our own Venus fly-trap. Perhaps a plague or a poor program of conservation depleted the natural sources of protein on the plant people's home planet. So they dispatched an armada of space ships in search of a new source of nourishment. One of those ships landed here and found that new source--in the human race.

Mary: How horrible!

Biff: To this end, the creature has enlisted the aid of its natural ally here--the desert flora. By granting Earth plants temporary animation, it can raise a vast army in virtually no time.

Prof: Fortunately, we have the proper knowledge to combat the invader. True to its plant ancestry, the creature absorbs its power during the day, from sun-light.

Biff: A form of photosynthesis.

Prof: This makes our adversary nearly invincible during the waking hours, but infinitely weaker at night.

Doctor Gruber looks up toward the wall clock. As he speaks, the camera pans up and trucks in until the face of the clock fills the screen.

Doc: It'll be dark in another hour. We'll have to strike then.


Next... Part 7.

 

[Journia]

Ooooh! I smell propaganda! It's a walking stalk of Marijuana, very clever. I'd not have ever thought of that. I wonder if that really is the reason this plant came to earth, or perhaps we'll find out later.

 

[Low_Roads]

Not so much propaganda as genre exploitation. GM enjoyed funky drug-scare films such as "Reefer Madness" and "Marijuana: Weed with Roots in Hell"... he introduced the cannabis reference as an extra element of parody. It'll assume further relevance toward the climax, though only in a minor way.

 

[Cbarton]

Alright...looks like the big battle is about to commence...it's time to smoke that plant...uhmmm...errr...well, you know what I mean... (LOL)

Homo-Canabis? Next thing you know the heroin(e) will be highly involved.

Nice comedic approach there. Definately fits in the drug-phobia of the era

 

[Low_Roads]

Thanks Hawk! The climactic battle does indeed loom... our heros can't wait for a "crack" at their adversary! XD

This script turned out to be a take-off of the hipper AIP-style '50s sci-fi opus (what with the limited cast, restricted setting and narcotics reference), more so than I intended when we began it. The Roger Corman/Sam Arkoff filmography would exploit topical cultural material like drugs, beatniks or juvenile crime... stuff the more staid studio product could afford to ignore. I personally preferred a less controversial, more traditional approach... without GM's involvement, the military probably would have been called in (much as it was in "Masters of the Cosmos").

 

[Low_Roads]

Part 7​

The hands of the clock swiftly move, until a full hour has passed.

The camera pans down and trucks out to reveal that the stalwart band has re-assembled, save for the Professor. The menfolk are equipped with guns and flashlights.

Peabody enters from the side-room, having exchanged his tweeds and bowler for a costume more suited to butterfly hunting than giant killing--that is, a pith helmet, flowing ascot, and sporting jacket.

Joe: (shaking his head at the sight of Professor Peabody) Joe need drink.

Mary clutches Biff's arm, and looks urgently into the young man's eyes.

Mary: Let me go with you, Biff.

Biff shakes his head.

Biff: Stay here where it's safe.

Kincaid suddenly appears behind Biff and directly opposite Mary.

Kincaid: Do as you're told, gal.

At the sound of Kincaid's voice, Biff instinctively ducks behind Mary. He anxiously peers over her shoulder at the glowering lawman.

Mary: Yes, Papa.

Prof: (taking command) Well, let's make a go of it, shall we? And remember--first chap to sight the beastie fires a warning shot, eh wot? Jolly good!

Crapulous Joe is fooling around with his gun, looking into the barrel and generally being inept. Kincaid spies this and snatches the gun in question, pointing it toward the floor.

Kincaid: Ya blasted idjit! What're ya tryin' to do, shoot your damnfool self?

At this point, the firearm discharges itself. Kincaid blinks, looks down, blinks again.

Kincaid: (extremely calm) Doc, could I see you a moment?

Doc comes to Kincaid's side.

Doc: Yes, Jack?

Kincaid: (still calm, but lowering his voice confidentially) Doc, I just shot my foot. Do you suppose you could see your way clear to take a look at it?

Dumbfounded, Doc can only nod.

Kincaid: Thank you. You're a good man, Doc.

Kincaid hands the gun back to Joe and, in a very stately and dignified manner, walks into the side-room. Two heartbeats after the door is closed, a rafter-rattling whoop of pain splits the air.

As Doc rushes to the door, little black bag in hand, there is a discreet fade to black.

EXTERIOR. After a few moments of this nothingness, it becomes apparent that the blackness of the completed fade is in reality the blackness of the night. The Professor, flaming torch in hand, enters from screen left. Crapulous Joe follows closely behind. When the Indian is in the middle of the frame, he pauses, pointing a finger at the scientist and giggling to himself. At that moment, Peabody turns, prompting Joe's face to immediately grow solemnly rigid. The Professor performs a "follow me" gesture with his revolver hand. As soon as he has pressed on, the Indian snickers again and exits.

The sheriff, armed to the teeth, does a right-to-left cross.

Gruber, similarly armed, does a left-to-right cross.

The screen becomes startlingly white. This white is the whiteness of Biff's jacket, a fact that is revealed as the young man walks forward into the middle ground of the frame. He stands, back still to the camera, exploring the darkness before him with a flashlight. As he does so, a hand enters the foreground of the frame. The camera trucks in as the hand reaches for Biff's shoulder. The hand grips him, prompting the lad to spin around. The camera falls back slightly, as Biff's flashlight illuminates the face of Miss Mary Kincaid.

Biff: (sharply) What are you doing out here?

Mary: Oh, don't be angry with me, Biff. I tried to wait in the office like you and Papa wanted me to, but I was too worried. About Papa... and about you.

Biff About... me?

Mary nods, wide-eyed and anxious. After a moment, Biff breaks into a wide grin.

Biff: Come on. We'll look together.

He hands the now-bubbly girl the flashlight and shoulders his rifle. She takes his arm, playing the battery-operated lamp about them as they exit screen left.

A montage follows, cutting between the rapidly racing wall clock and the remainder of the night's ineffectual search.

As dawn breaks, Peabody, Joe, and Kincaid assemble at the entrance to town.

Kincaid: Not a sight of that blasted critter. Say, where's Doc? And where's that kid?

In the desert, an exhausted Mary and and equally pooped Biff seat themselves in the shelter of a huge and foreboding rock formation. The camera trucks in to a two-shot.

Biff: (defeatist) I can't understand it. We even searched around the saucer. Nothing. Nothing!

Mary: Maybe... maybe the creature left.

A CU of the boy.

Biff: Without the saucer? Aw, no--it's up to something, some new horror.

There is a pregnant pause. Biff glances sideways, too nervous to really look at Mary, licks his lips , and begins.

Biff: (very awkward) Say, Mary... well, I was thinking... that is... pretty soon, one way or another, I'll have to be getting back to the university, and... well, if you're ever in California, maybe I could show you around. That is, maybe we could go out for a movie, or maybe a soda. I... I have two months off this summer. Maybe... maybe I could... come out for a visit... maybe. What do you say, Mary?

Biff turns to Mary. The camera pans over, and we see that the exhausted girl has fallen fast asleep. She snores loudly.

Biff: (amused in spite of it all) Sweet dreams, Mary sweetheart.

He puckers his lips and bends to kiss her cheek. From somewhere nearby, a blood-chilling scream rings out. Mary snaps awake, springing up and painfully bumping skulls with her new-found swain.


Next... Part 8.

 

[Journia]

Wow, short, but sweet. My how I know the feeling of a kiss disturbed. I can't ait to find out what's in Part 8!

 

[Low_Roads]

My how I know the feeling of a kiss disturbed.

Me too! That's the only kind I ever seem to get!

Thanks for the enthusiasm, J! Only two more installments of the screenplay proper (after which I'll repeat the whole thing in miniature)... you can count on things heating way up next week!

 

[Journia]

you can count on things heating way up next week!

I'm going to bring the iced tea and the air condintioner.

 

[Cbarton]

Ah..a fruitless search, a revealing moment of truth, and a first kiss lost. All in a days work I suppose. Now the suspenseful wait for the source of the scream. The Prof? Joe? The Sheriff? Hopefully the prof hasn't shot himself in the other foot while we wait to see what happens next.