A Touch Of Mink - an original screenplay

EXT. AGRICULTURAL COLLEGE - EARLY MORNING

Five individuals break into the agricultural college. Close to dawn. They are organised; with keys to the various rooms. Three men (NORMAN, TOM and NEIL) and two women (KELLY and SUE) all dressed in dark clothes. Their faces are covered up.  SUE and Tom split off into another building which is set aside from the main building. The other three run quietly into the breeding pens. Kelly and Norman carry bolt cutters. 

INT. BREEDING PENS. EARLY MORNING

They enter the building. There is a lot of noise coming from further inside.

NORMAN (Whispering harshly): What a fucking stench!

KELLY: Shut the fuck up. Keep talking to a minimum! We want to be out as soon as possible!

They can see eight cages in front, all full of mink. The mink are hissing and writhing, aware of the intruders. Their backs hunched.

NEIL: Why are they so quiet? Surely they should be squealing?

SUE: They all had their vocal cords cut; it’s more peaceful that way.

Sue walks to one of the cages, urges the other Norman to take the other pair of bolt cutters. They open seven of the cages. After opening each cage they step back and allow the mink to run out into the wild. As they attempt to open the last they hear a scream and shouts of horror coming from the other team. 

The remaining mink leaps at the metal of the cage, stunning the two men. One of them bites Sue's hand. The other mink escapes, making it hard for the men to help Sue. The two men struggle.  The mink finally releases its jaws and runs off. There are still shouts coming from the other building and the two men run off. Sue looks at the opened cages and then at her hand.

CUT TO:

INT. LABORATORY - EARLY MORNING

A makeshift laboratory in a renovated farm-building. A large cage; the type of desks found in a college laboratory. There are bags of feed; tubs of chemicals.

The two men run inside and see the mangled body of Kelly. Her throat has been torn out and there are bloodied furrows ripped into her body. The opened cage is covered in blood and Tom is cowering in the corner, staring at bloody footprints.  The bottom of the door has been torn to pieces. 

In the distance the sun can be seen to start rising.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

TITLE CARD: A TOUCH OF MINK

The song: Good Morning Freedom by Blue Mink starts playing.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. CAMPSITE - NIGHT

A family of three share a Lichfield Challenger tent. Mum and dad in their own sleeping bag, the young child in its own, reading a “Scream” horror comic. A small WH Smith Radio Cassette CR208 can be seen and is playing the final bars of “Good Morning Freedom”. There is a Coleman light next to the radio. (All of which should scream ‘1980’s’.)

RADIO ANNOUNCER: And that was Good Morning Freedom sung by Peters & Lee. Next up…

The radio is turned off by the mother.

MOTHER: We’ve got a big day tomorrow, dearest. Off to sleep!

CHILD: Night, night mummy. Night, night, daddy.

Both the parents say goodnight and the mother turns the light out. Silence. Complete silence. Rustling sounds are heard. Then chittering and hissing are faint but rapidly get louder. A mixture of squealing and squeaking is then heard, closer. The child wakes up the mum and dad as shapes press on the canvas of the tent. They hear screams coming from outside. The tent is RIPPED OPEN and their screams join the others.

CUT TO:

EXT. CAMPSITE - MORNING

Parts of the campsite are a complete mess. Tents torn to bloody shreds whilst others are untouched, empty. There are lots of police. Lots of the police tape and a line of demarcation around the entire area. By-standers and local journalists jostle against the tape.

Two of them are WOOD and BYRNE. Wood is stern, thin, but looks vulnerable with sandy, wispy hair; badly coiffed. He wears small, round John Lennon style granny-specs. Byrne is a larger fellow with short, dark frizzy hair. He’s keen, sharp and disarmingly humorous. 

They are talking to one of the locals, an old man, by the cordon.

WOOD: Did you know anyone in the campsite?

LOCAL: I’d seen one of them last night. They had a lovely daughter. Crying shame!

BYRNE: What happened, do you think?

LOCAL: Not a clue. Haven’t seen anything like this for a…

The local stops himself. A police officer notices the two reporters and motions to them.

POLICEMAN : We don’t want you stirring things up round here. I know you’re just doing your job but now is not the time to do it. There will be an official statement later on. For now, just leave us time to process everything.

Byrne has been watching over the policeman's shoulder. He can see a couple of tents in the distance that haven’t been touched.

BYRNE: So why do you think this maniac chose those particular families to attack? Was this a series of random killings or was there a more arcane motive behind it?

POLICEMAN: That was no fucking maniac. That was an anim…

2ND POLICEMAN (SHOUTS): That’s enough, constable!

1ST POLICEMAN: You’ll have to wait for the official statement. Now clear off, the pair of you otherwise I’ll have you done for obstructing a Police Officer.

The two journalists look at each other, shrug their shoulders and walk off down the hill.

CUT TO:

INT. BYRNE’s CAR - MORNING

Byrne is driving, Wood looks at his notes.

BYRNE: I still don’t know how you get away with it!

WOOD: Pure charm, my friend.

BYRNE: Right from the school of Columbo, no doubt.

WOOD (Mimic’s Peter Falk): Now, there’s just one more thing… They do think it’s an animal related attack.

BYRNE: Rats?

WOOD: Could be. We must be due for another James Herbert book soon… but I don’t think it’s likely.

BYRNE: What do you think that old man was going to say? I thought it sounded like it had happened before.

WOOD: Hang on a minute. You might have something there. It should be in the research notes I made before we came out.

BYRNE: Swot!

WOOD: Four eyed twat!

They both laugh as Wood rummages through the notes in his small knapsack.

WOOD: Here we go. Edith Foyle. She doesn’t live that far away, near Amberley. She complained a while ago of her sheep being attacked.

BYRNE: Amberley here we come!

CUT TO:

INT. COTTAGE KITCHEN - MID MORNING

Edith Foyle’s cottage is remote, on a hill just outside the Amberley Chalk Pits. There is no neighbour within a mile or so. Wood and Byrne sit with Edith, drinking in her kitchen. A few empty wine bottles sit on the work top.

EDITH: It was never the same. No one believed us, even when they saw the sheep. We were accused of making it all up. Burt couldn’t take it, drove him to an early grave: heart attack.

WOOD: I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs Foyle. What did you say killed your sheep at the time?

EDITH (almost whispering): Mink.

BYRNE (caught off guard): MINK?

Edith nods once

BYRNE: Attacked your sheep?

Edith nods again.

WOOD (sees the wine bottles): Why don’t you tell us what happened?

EDITH: They were in the pasture. The field just beyond, over there.

(Points north)

EDITH: And it was late one evening. We could hear the sheep bleating in panic. We thought a fox was worrying them, trying to kill the lambs. Burt got dressed and went out with the shotgun. All I could hear were the sheep and Burt yelling! When I finally sees what’s happening I can’t believe it. Their fur was like bloodied silver. They ran for it after Burt tries shooting at them but they were too quick.We were lucky, they only killed four of the flock but it were never the same after that. No one believed us, and neither do you.

WOOD: We want to believe you, truly we do Mrs Foyle but we need proof.

BYRNE: If it ever happens again; and I hope to god it doesn’t; then you need to take a recording of it. Have you got a cassette recorder you can use? If not, we have a spare portable you can borrow. Here’s my telephone number. Please use it day or night should anything happen.

EDITH: Yes… I understand. Thank you for coming…

CUT TO:

EXT. NEXT TO BYRNE'S CAR - MORNING

Wood and Byrne shrug their shoulders and look back to the cottage

WOOD: It was worth a try.

BYRNE: Foiled again.

CUT TO:

INT. BYRNE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The telephone rings. BYRNE fumbles for the light. It’s on the small bedside chest of drawers next to the bed. He finds it and turns it on. He then finds the telephone and drags himself into a position where he can answer it. It is a chunky ‘80’s phone

BYRNE: (rubs his eyes whilst answering) H… hello? Who is this?

There is an almighty ruckus from the other line. Lots of squealing; clawing and scratching sounds. Very loud. 

EDITH (Whispering but bordering on hysterical): You’ve got to come and get me, Mr Byrne. They’ve come back; all those months and they’re breaking into the cottage again. It won’t be long now. You’ve got to come and get me. Save me, please. You can hear them, can’t you? They’re right outside. It won’t be long at all. I’ve recorded them, just as your partner asked, Mr Byrne. I just hope it’s of…

Sounds of wood smashing. Loud squealing now, mixed with the screams of Mrs Foyle. The line goes dead.

CUT TO:

EXT. MRS FOYLE’S FARM - EARLY MORNING

Wood and Byrne arrive at the farm. The bottom of the farmhouse door is chewed to bits. They walk inside. Mrs Foyle has been torn to shreds, blood everywhere. She has only been partially eaten. They’re both almost sick and have to put handkerchiefs over their noses and mouths. Wood looks around cautiously. Byrne finds the cassette recorder in the sink. The tape is still inside it. Just then they hear a police siren in the distance.

WOOD (Whispering urgently): Is it there? 

BYRNE: Yeah. What’s that fucking stench? I thought she drank wine not fucking horses urine!

WOOD: Who cares what it smells of! Hide the tape; we might need it!

BYRNE: Where?

WOOD: Down your pants, they’re big enough.

Byrne ejects the tape from the recorder and shoves it down his jeans and into his y-fronts.

BYRNE: I’ll shove it up your arse if you’re not careful.

Byrne and Wood listen out for the siren but it’s more distant now.

BYRNE: I think we better get the flock out of here.

WOOD: That’s a little tasteless don’t you think?

BYRNE: Do you really want to stop and talk about morality and wait for the police, or shall we drive away from the scene of the crime?

Wood nods and they carefully make their way out of the cottage and to the car. It’s starting to get light. Wood is about to get into the car when he glimpses into the distance. There is slight movement by the border fence. 

WOOD (points): What the fuck is that?

BYRNE (Looking in the same direction): Where?

WOOD: Fuck sake - there… Wait, it’s gone now. It was the size of a dog!

BYRNE: t was probably Lassie, then! Look, I really do not want to have to explain to the police what we are doing here amongst a slaughter-fucking-house! Can we go now?

Wood nods and they drive off.

CUT TO:

INT. WOOD’S HOUSE - MORNING

Wood and Byrne sit in the kitchen with a cup of tea. They’re both in shock. 

BYRNE: I killed her. Me and my damn mouth. If I hadn’t asked her to record them then she might still be alive.

WOOD: Don’t be fucking daft. Neither of us believed her. She didn’t have to stay there. But we now owe it to her to find out what the fuck is going on. 

BYRNE: Pound to a penny that those poor fucking campers suffered a similar fate; and the yokel knew something.

Wood finds a cassette player. Byrne throws him the tape. Wood looks at it and grimaces before putting it in the machine.

WOOD: So did the police too; they’re covering something up… Just how far back do these attacks go!

Wood presses Rewind and then Play. The sound is a piercing shriek; deep and powerful.

BYRNE (almost falls from his chair): What the fuck was that? Give me warning next time your voice breaks, for fuck sake!

WOOD: (Rewinds the tape to the start) Sorry!

High pitched and frantic squeals are heard, then Mrs Foyle’s frightened sobs and breathing as she dials the rotary telephone. 

MRS FOYLE: You’ve got to come and get me, Mr Byrne. They’ve come back; all those months and they’re breaking into the cottage again. It won’t be long now. You’ve got to come and get me. Save me, please. You can hear them, can’t you? They’re right outside. It won’t be long at all. I’ve recorded them, just as your partner asked, Mr Byrne. I just hope it’s of…

Byrne and Wood stare at the cassette player. Her screams are heard amongst the squeals and banging, thrashing noises. There is the sound of the cassette player being thrown and rebounding in the sink. Mrs Foyle’s screams suddenly die down and all that can be heard is the squeals of the animals. 

Then there is the frightening sound from earlier. The other squeals sound more frantic and then they suddenly get quieter before silence

BYRNE: I say again… what the fuck was that?

CUT TO:

INT. LIBRARY - AFTERNOON

Wood is sequestered in the local library, at the microfiche reader, scrolling through old local news headlines. He finds an article from 1974 about a break-in and theft from an agricultural college but few actual details. 

WOOD (to himself): Break in or break out? 

He scrolls further until he reaches another article. This is about a break-in of a mink farm in Surrey by The Animal Liberation Front who released all the mink.

WOOD (muttering to himself): What if something went wrong during the College theft? What if they wanted to hush things up?

CUT TO:

EXT. ARUNDEL WETLANDS - AFTERNOON

Byrne is with a conservationist, CLIVE, walking around Arundel Wildfowl Trust.  They’ve both got waders on. Clive has got a backpack on.

CLIVE: …Protection… Look… I wouldn’t normally be interested in talking to the press, but I’ve also had run-ins with mink recently. They’ve been on the increase ever since those bastards at the Animal Liberation Front raided that mink farm. Hypocritical sods! Free one species but fuck all the others they come in contact with… and you can quote me on that!

Byrne does his best not to show alarm at this news. He’s made the same connection as Wood did and now is anxious to learn more.

BYRNE: I think we’re going to get along famously, Clive! I’ve got a recording that I want you to hear. It’s going to be distressing but it’s vital if you can identify the species.

Byrne plays the tape, with the volume low. Clive’s mouth drops and his eyes open wide in shock and horror. He’s deeply disturbed by the last thing he hears.

CLIVE: Mink… I’ve no doubt… I’d know that anywhere! But never that frantic before!

BYRNE: But what was that last roar?

There’s another series of squeals and shrieks.

CLIVE: You can turn that thing off now, thanks. I’ve heard enough!

BYRNE: (Looking at the tape machine) But it’s off… I turned it off!

CUT TO:

EXT. THE STREET - AFTERNOON

Wood knocks on the door of a terrace house. A man answers.

WOOD : Norman Glick? I’m sorry; I don’t have much time but I need you to tell me what happened on the night of the 15th June 1974 and why you were only prosecuted for burglary for a totally unrelated situation.

CUT TO:

INT. NORMAN GLICK’S KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Wood and Norman are in the kitchen. Norman is close to tears as he finishes recounting what happened that night. 

NORMAN: How were we to know what was there? We were told to free the mink. So we freed the fucking mink! We’d been tipped off by someone who worked in the college. Someone who knew part of what was happening there and was disgusted by the rumours.

WOOD: Did you get his name at all?

NORMAN: I found out later that his name was… Robert, something… (shakes his head suddenly) But that… thing… I never even saw it, just saw what it did to Sue.

WOOD: Only three of you were prosecuted though. There were five of you. Even if Sue sadly died, there was still the other woman… (Checks his notes) Kelly Thrower. What happened to her?

NORMAN: She… she died before the trial.

WOOD: She died? How?

NORMAN: She was bitten during the escape.

CUT TO:

EXT. ARUNDEL WETLANDS - AFTERNOON

Clive and Byrne now hear screams as they run forwards. Clive takes his backpack off and hands Byrne a can of pepper-spray. He holds another. Clive also has a hand-held air-horn.

In front they see a bird hide covered in writhing, translucent, gun-metal grey shapes. So many of them. The screams are coming from within. They both stop, unsure of what to do. Clive rummages around in his backpack and digs out a smoke bomb.

CLIVE: It pays to be prepared! I did my own research, just in case.

BYRNE: Glad you did!

Clive throws the smoke grenade at the shelter. It explodes; the bang and smoke frighten off the majority of the mink and they disperse in all directions. Four of them run towards the two men, fast. Two of them leap up at them but Byrne is ready with the pepper spray and frightens them off. A third leaps up and sinks its teeth into Byrne’s hand. Clive uses the air-horn on it. It releases its hold on Byrnr’s hand and runs away. The last one hunches its back and hisses at them before running away too. Clive looks at Byrne’s bleeding hand. 

CUT TO:

INT. NORMAN'S HOUSE - AFTERNOON

Norman is still telling Wood about the events following the break-in.

NORMAN: It all happened so quickly. It was deadly. Within a week she had organ failure; just wasted away. We thought it was rabies, a super-strain developed by the damn college but the Doctors swore blind it wasn’t. It was nothing they’d ever seen before.

WOOD: You ever find out what it was?

NORMAN: Yeah. I did my own research. I needed some kind of closure. It’s called Aleutian Disease, it was a parvovirus, whatever the fuck that is. Extreme weight loss, blood vessel inflammation and organ failure… and there is no known cure. All it took was one lousy bite.

FADE OUT:

INT. HOSPITAL WARD - EVENING

Wood rushes into the ward, after being told not to run in the corridors. He sees Byrne sitting up in bed, looking sheepish.

BYRNE: I really owe Mrs Foyle a huge apology. We were attacked by mink. MINK! They were swarming over a bird hide and if it wasn’t for Clive’s quick thinking. Clive was the Conservation chap… All of us would have been chopped meat! Sorry, I’m still high on the adrenaline. I can’t believe we survived!

Wood doesn’t respond. He can’t look Byrne in the eye. He just looks at Byrne’s wound, where he was bitten. 

BYRNE: What? Who died now? What is it? 

Wood tells Byrne what transpired with Norman, and what happened to the woman who got bitten in the mink farm raid. Up until now this has purely been in gesture and muted voices that are barely audible; then:

BYRNE: FUCK! Dirty little FUCKERS!

Everyone in the ward looks at him with dismay but Byrne is beyond caring.

BYRNE: How long have I got?

WOOD: I don’t know. Weeks, maybe?

BYRNE: We need to finish it. I don’t know how, but I don’t give a damn about the story any more. No one else should die because of this.

A man walks in; an overcoat covering most of his face. He pulls up a chair and sits next to Wood, facing Byrne. This is Robert.

ROBERT: I think I can help. 

CUT TO:

INT. PUB. EVENING

Rob is talking to Byrne and Wood. Byrne is drinking heavily, a couple of empty shot glasses next to his pint.

ROBERT: I know I should have told someone before now. I did try but it was always hushed up by the college with my reputation and job at stake.

BYRNE (slightly slurred): People were fucking dying!

ROBERT: I only recently found out. All the other incidents were hushed up. They said they were conducting their own investigations. But I wonder now whether they really bothered. If anyone found out what they’d been up to; the lengths they’d gone to alter the fur yield, the college would have faced legal action!

WOOD: Fucking hell. Is that all; and all the people that lost their lives? What about them?

BYRNE: But why now? Why us?

ROBERT: Because of what you said in the hospital… and I think I know how to get rid of them once and for all. I’ve got a plan.

CUT TO:

EXT. MRS FOYLE'S COTTAGE - NIGHT

The kitchen sits directly above the cellar. A reinforced door leads downstairs.Outside, another entrance leads directly into the cellar.

Montage of Robert, Byrne and Wood putting together a huge cage in the cellar. The police tape is still around and there is still the outline of her body in the kitchen. The rest of the cottage has been cleaned. 

The cellar door leading outside has been reinforced, apart from a makeshift tunnel. This leads to a reinforced cage. Inside the cage are frog carcases and crayfish; mice and rat guts.Bait for the mink.

The three men sit in the kitchen. Wood and Robert try not to look at the chalk outline. Byrne toasts it with the bottle of whiskey he’s holding.

Robert has bought a camping gas stove and three canisters of gas. The smell of gas is pungent. Suddenly the sound scrabbling at the outside of the cottage can be heard. They all look at each other anxiously.

BYRNE: You sure they can’t get in here? You’ve reinforced the kitchen door? Not that I care for myself, mind.

The cellar door tunnel gives out and they hear the mink squeal. They then hear the thrashing of the mink against the cage itself.

BYRNE: Got the fuckers! You sure they can’t escape?

ROBERT: I learnt the hard way what those things can escape from. Those bars are double the strength of the last lot, at least.

The sounds intensify and become extreme. There is a crashing sound from the cellar door and screeches from the mink. The thrashing sound against the cage becomes more frantic and a nightmare growl and the piercing, powerful shriek Byrne and Wood heard before.

The three of them dash to the joining door to the cellar and open it, switching on the light. It’s a charnel house; a writhing, bloody mess. The mink are being eviscerated by something impossibly large. The size of an Alsatian but sleeker; teeth tearing indiscriminately into its smaller brethren.

ROBERT (horrified): No! Fuck, please no. It can’t be! I thought it was a myth, something they made up!

The giant mink turns to the new sounds and sees the three men. It lets out another shriek and throws itself at the bars. The three of them run out into the kitchen, slamming and locking the door behind them.

BYRNE: Locking the door’s a great idea. We’re lucky it doesn’t have pockets to hide the key! 

WOOD: (Gripping Robert by the collar) What is it? What the fuck is it?

ROBERT: They wanted to create the perfect mink; gorgeous fur, denser and faster growing…

WOOD: How?

ROBERT: They studied nutritional science in order to accelerate its growth.

They hear the sounds of the cage being smashed.

BYRNE: What’s its favourite colour? Who the fuck cares! I say again: What are we going to fucking do?

Byrne looks around and sees the camping stove and canisters.

BYRNE: We cook the fucker! (points to the camping stove) Turn the gas on and light the fucking fire. The explosion should wipe the fucker out.

WOOD: And the cottage too! 

There is a thump on the door. The giant mink is throwing itself at the door in frustration and frenzy. It can then be heard chewing through the cellar door extremely quickly.

WOOD: It’s not going to hold much longer. I’ll go out and secure the cellar door outside. Stop them from escaping!

BYRNE: I’ll stop the fucker from escaping. Give me one of the bottles. I’ll hide in the larder. I’ve got my trusty fire lighters here. As soon as it gnaws through the door BANG! Toasted Mink.

Wood looks at Byrne. Wood understands what Byrne is going to do. Byrne nods and grins an evil grin.

ROBERT: I’ll put the other two canisters at different points to maximise the explosion.

Wood turns to Byrne.

WOOD: Four eyed twat.

BYRNE: Swot.

Byrne walks into the larder with the gas canister and turns it on as Wood walks out the door. 

Robert turns the valve on one and places it just away from the front door. He then runs back to the cellar door, releasing the valve on the other as he does so. He places it on the ground. The cellar door explodes outwards. The giant mink launches itself at Robert's prone body, knocking him over. It tears his throat apart. Byrne opens the door, sees the bloody mess.

BYRNE: Fuck!

Byrne slams the door as the giant mink leaps at it. It tears chunks out of the door as Byrne stares transfixed in the far corner. He grips the two ferro rods tightly. The gas seeps out from the canister. The mink charges through the splintered door. Byrne smashes the ferro rods together.

BYRNE:  I ain’t afraid of no….

Huge explosion. Flames surge into the sky, consuming the cottage. There is no sign of Wood.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE COTTAGE - NIGHT 

The fire is raging over the remains of the cottage. The blackness of the night is in sharp contrast to the purifying flames. 

“Our World” by Blue Mink fades in as the credits roll.

Who hates you (and why) - a screenplay

AUDIENCE SOUNDS - BLACK SCREEN

A murmur to start with. A chant barely audible but growing.The lights start to grow in intensity.

FADE IN: INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - NIGHT

The television studio is not large. It seats fifty or sixty people but it sounds as if there are a lot more people.

ANNOUNCER: It’s that time again! Who hates you and who do you hate to love? 

Suddenly a massive and garish sign flares up in neon. THE KUNT SHOW

AUDIENCE:  KUNT! KUNT! KUNT! KUNT!

Saul Kunt walks on stage exuding smarm and charm. His arrogance is personified. A mixture of Piers Morgan and Ryan Reynolds.

SAUL: Who do you love to hate?

AUDIENCE: KUNT KUNT KUNT KUNT!!!

SAUL: And he hates you too! Well, we’ve got so many victims tonight that I think you’re going to have an amazing time!

The audience starts jeering and cheering; whipped up into a spectacle.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Saul is walking alone. He is very watchful. He has every reason to be. It’s been raining and he can hear his footsteps splashing in puddles. It’s late and there aren’t many people around. Saul can hear footsteps behind him getting closer, the splashing sounding urgent, forceful. Saul instinctively walks quicker but the footsteps behind him don’t, they die down completely. He walks past an alleyway strewn with rubbish and broken furniture. A few seconds later and the footsteps are back and they’re right behind him now. Saul is about to turn around when he’s hit right in the back with a table leg. He falls into a puddle.

ATTACKER : You bastard. You think everything is there for you to rip apart. You and your damn show! You don’t care who you take apart, who you destroy. Well destroy this!

The attacker ineptly beats Saul with the table leg. There’s no real strength to the blows and Saul has rolled into a foetal position. Soon the attacker throws the chair leg at him and runs off. Saul painfully gets up from the puddle.

SAUL: Fuck… another grateful fan, no doubt… my admiring fucking public.

Saul is in a lot of pain and staggers to the nearest house.The gate is wooden and lightly peeling. There’s no doorbell but a brass knocker in the shape of a gargoyle. Saul bangs it three times. The door opens on the third and a non-descript chap with shaggy hair, sullen eyes and glasses opens it. This is GRAHAM.

SAUL: …And here is the man you love to hate…

Saul takes a few steps inside as Graham closes the door behind him. Graham can see the state of Saul and just lets him in. Once the door closes Saul throws up on the carpet and slides down the wall in pain.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. GRAHAM’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Saul is sitting on an old 1980’s style MFI sofa. The lounge has a homely, lived in look.Everything is retro without being kitsch; it is genuine. Graham is sitting opposite him but as Saul wakes Graham walks off into the kitchen to get him a cup of chamomile tea.

Saul continues to look around him: Bookcases full of well-read books of all shapes and sizes. The ceiling is artexed. There is a small coffee table in front of him with a book of Trevor Grimshaw prints. In the corner is a record player-cabinet with horn. The most beautiful music is coming from it and Saul sits up to listen.

GRAHAM (From kitchen): That’s Elgar’s Cello Concerto.

SAUL:  Is that an original record player?

GRAHAM: Most of it. I updated it a little so it could play standard LP’s. Trying to get anything to play 78s is pretty nigh on impossible these days. It’s the shellac, modern needles damage them.

SAUL : 78s?

GRAHAM: The old gramophone records of the early 20th Century. So difficult to get these days anyways. Trying to get hold of anything… well, old, these days it is virtually impossible. There are still a few companies that use snail mail. I suppose most people would think of me as an old fogey!

SAUL (Mutters to himself): And the rest.

GRAHAM (Walks out, holding a tray with two cups of tea): Sorry, I didn’t quite get that.

SAUL: The music is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve heard anything like it before.

Graham places the tray on the table and hands Saul his cup. Graham looks surprised by Saul’s statement

GRAHAM: Really? This performance is particularly grand. Jacqueline de Pre is playing the cello. 

Saul is still looking at Graham with bemusement.

GRAHAM: Oh! I’m so sorry. After all the excitement I’ve not introduced myself! I don’t get many visitors.

Saul manages to stop himself from saying anything derisory and instead shakes Graham’s outstretched hand.

GRAHAM: My name’s Graham. Graham Cleverly. Learned to accept the burden of the surname. Used to get bullied for it at school but I’ve got used to it.

SAUL: I can relate to that. 

GRAHAM: Oh, why’s that then?

Saul is bemused and leans back into the comfy sofa.

SAUL: Do you not know who I am then?

GRAHAM: Sorry, old bean; should I?

SAUL: I’m quite famous… or should I say infamous.

GRAHAM: Ah, infamy. I once heard that fame was fickle like a woman. (chuckles) She has to be courted and wooed, brought gifts and seduced but she can turn on you in an instant! (GRAHAM snaps his fingers)

SAUL: I’ve not heard that before but it’s very apt! Well, my name is Kunt.

There is no reaction from Graham, not even from the actual word itself.

SAUL: Saul Kunt? Have you really not heard of me? 

Graham shakes his head sheepishly.

SAUL: I’m rather big on tv; and even bigger online.

Graham shrugs again.

SAUL: On the internet. You know?

GRAHAM (Shakes his head): And therein lies the problem, old chap. I have neither a television or a computer!

Saul looks around him. He’s not noticed that before now and, there is no television; no computer. Just the record player and books.

SAUL (despite himself): Well, fuck me.

CUT TO:

INT. GRAHAM’S KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

It’s another day. Both Graham and Saul are wearing different clothes and for every piece of dialogue there is a change of day; a change of clothes, etc. Saul has finally found someone he can talk to. 

GRAHAM (Mid-conversation): …burglars would take two minutes to check the place out and realise that there’s nothing worth stealing. There’s nothing modern that looks as if it’s worth anything, so why worry?

SAUL: Well, when you put it like that…

CUT TO:

INT. GRAHAM’S LOUNGE - AFTERNOON

SAUL: …still can’t get over the fact that you have no idea of who I am.

GRAHAM: What is it that Joe Masteroff wrote? “Leave your troubles outside! So—life is disappointing? Forget it! In here, life is beautiful!”

(SAUL Laughs)

GRAHAM: Ok, maybe not beautiful but you get my gist. I don’t care about who you are ‘outside’. That’s not you, anyway.

Saul rubs his chin and wonders.

CUT TO:

GRAHAM: Everything has become so trivial today, and I think that television is to blame for that.

SAUL (Saul laughs good-naturedly): You might have something there, Graham. You really might!

CUT TO:

INT. GRAHAM’S LOUNGE - NIGHT

Graham is unwrapping a present. It’s a portable CD player with a few classical music cd’s including a box set of Jacqueline de Pre. 

SAUL: Happy Birthday, Graham. 

Graham looks confused. 

SAUL: It’s so you can carry your music around with you!

There’s now various electrical devices scattered on the shelves. A digital clock; a top of the line radio; electric lamps. No television though still. There is a barely discernible hum though.

GRAHAM: You really shouldn’t Saul. You buy me enough already and it’s really not necessary. We’re friends. It’s not as if I can repay you either.

SAUL: You don’t need to.

GRAHAM: And nor do you.

SAUL: I don’t think you understand, Graham. I can be myself here, with you. That’s a luxury I never knew I had until we met. I wish more people could know you as I do.

CUT TO:

INT. CORPORATE OFFICES - MORNING

Saul sits across a desk with his producer, CLive and researcher, Steph. 

SAUL : I want to do something different with the next show.

CLIVE : Different is bad, Saul. You know that. This format works. Steph researches the guests, you rip them to shreds! Gold!

STEPH: And people line up to be on the show! Well, they’re put up to it most of the time…

SAUL: I'm not sure I want to do that any more. I’ve changed, Clive. I want to be like Michael Parkinson or Terry Wogan. Serious chat-show hosts.

STEPH: Who?

CUT TO:

INT. GRAHAM’S KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Saul and Graham are sharing a cup of tea. Graham is using the eclectic kettle that Saul bought him. Graham is looking a bit disheveled.

SAUL: Are you still having trouble sleeping?

GRAHAM: It’s the electric clock you got me; the glow of the numbers takes a bit of getting used to… But what were you saying?

SAUL: I want to put you on my chat show. I want other people to get to know you as I do.

GRAHAM: And why do you want to do that? What’s wrong with what we’ve got now?

SAUL: No one else seems to understand. They see a change in me… because of you… your influence… and they just don’t get it. If more people knew you, then they might… get it.

GRAHAM: But?

SAUL: My producer wants to meet with you first. He’s a very skeptical man.

GRAHAM: Meeting you is fine, there is no pressure for me to be anyone else. I don’t think the same will be true when I’m out with your other friends.

SAUL: He’s my producer, not my friend.

CUT TO:

INT. A COFFEE SHOP - MORNING

Saul and Graham sit opposite Steph and Clive. Graham is uncomfortable. He’s wearing clothes that are out of date, but still smart. Saul is trying to encourage him to talk. Clive is quiet, rubbing right thumb against his fingers. Steph is trying not to laugh. Graham is unaware of how he sounds to them.

GRAHAM: It suits me fine though… not having a computer, I mean.. Life moves far too fast for me out there. I can’t keep up. There’s no getting to know each other, not really. Everything’s on show, everything’s for sale. Everything and everybody is commented on all the time and there’s no time to develop oneself. It’s all instant ego gratification and I refuse to live in that kind of world.

CUT TO:

Saul and Clive are paying the bill at the counter whilst Steph is talking to Graham. Clive nudges Saul.

CLIVE: I love it. It’s so calculated it’s fucking mean. Where’d you find him? This is going to be abso-fucking amazing.

SAUL (shocked): What? No! It’s genuine, Clive! He’s an amazing guy. I tell you, more people need to be like him.

CLIVE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. If this is it; if this is really a sting then it’s a green light. If you are being genuine then it’ll be the last thing you ever do.

CUT TO:

INT. SAUL’S FLAT - NIGHT

Saul is on the phone to Graham. Graham sounds faint and spaced out, he can’t get used to talking on the telephone. There’s also the sound of static on the line.

SAUL: You need to have the mouthpiece closer to you, Graham; bloody hell.

GRAHAM: I really don’t think this is a good idea. You sound more stressed now than what you did yesterday!

SAUL: You don’t understand show business. It’s like being a spy the whole time, like being in that book you lent me: Orwell’s 1984. I have to toe the company line and even though I’m quite an influential person on television I’m still living on a knife edge, trying to keep up a cover story. Everyone wants a piece of who they think you are and there’s not enough of the real me to go around any more. I’ve lost sight of who that is, actually. Which is why I’m grateful to have met you.

GRAHAM: There’s a lot of it about, then.

SAUL: What’s that then?

GRAHAM: People being daft.

SAUL: More than you know, Graham. More than you know. Anyway; you need an early night. It’s the big day tomorrow.

CUT TO:

INT. TELEVISION STUDIO - NIGHT

The studio is packed. Graham is nervous, fidgeting. Saul is trying to look cool.

SAUL: Stop fidgeting, you’re making me nervous!

GRAHAM: Sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea.

The theme music starts and the crowd goes wild, clapping and jeering. But there is no fanfare this time; no voice over. The audience starts with their change of: “KUNT KUNT” but Saul motions for them to be quiet. The lights shine down on him as he stands up and walks to the front of his little set. Graham is not in the spotlight yet. He’s still in the shadows.

SAUL: (Speaking in his normal voice, albeit louder) People seem to think that it’s impossible for a man to change. Anyone can change if they’re given the chance, and luckily I was given that chance! I never realised that there was more to life than this. This chap here saved my life.(points to Graham and sits down next to him)

A few people get up out of their chairs and leave.

SAUL: In more ways than one… he didn’t do anything particularly heroic, but what he did was to open the door to a complete stranger and show him unconditional kindness. These last three months he’s continued to show me that same kindness as he’s opened his doors to me time and time again. He’s one of the most caring and thoughtful individuals that I’ve ever come across. (Graham blushes and fidgets some more) I’ve learnt things through Graham and believe that I’m becoming a better man. I sleep better and understand people more. He’s my friend and I want you all to meet him.

The spotlight shines on to Graham who puts his hand over his eyes briefly before remembering what Saul told him. A few more people get up and leave. Clive looks disgruntled and shakes his head in disbelief.

SAUL: True, Graham is a slice of yesteryear. But he is so refreshing and was quite an eye opener to me, I can tell you! I wouldn’t say that he’s out of touch with us today but in some ways he’s remembered things that we’ve forgotten. But he’d never seen a CD before I played him one, let alone heard of music downloads. He still has a record player, would you believe! What do you think of the difference though, Graham?

GRAHAM (Coughs):I still prefer vinyl. It has a much warmer sound. It’s more intimate.

There are a few chuckles of derision from the audience.

SAUL: It’s true; he does still prefer to listen to the records… and the bizarre thing is that he’s right! I started listening to some of his albums and they do sound so much richer and warmer. How can that be? Mind you, he didn’t even have a TV! Can you believe that! Why don’t you have a television set, Graham? You don’t even use the one that I bought you won’t even let me buy you one!

A few more people walk out with tuts and sighs.

GRAHAM (Really nervous and wooden):  I don’t have any need for it…I read, listen to the records…

Saul has seen the people leaving now and is a little shaken by what is happening. He carries on though, trying to salvage the conversation.

SAUL: Funny enough, I don’t miss it either when I’m at your place. We talk most of the time and listen to music. You’re so knowledgeable as well, Graham. I could talk to you for hours! How so?

GRAHAM: Because I don’t watch TV?

CUT TO::

Clive, standing in the wing of the studio.

CLIVE (mutters to himself): That’s going to hurt the ratings.

CUT TO:

Saul is more nervous now. He’s seen Clive and Clive is making the sign of slitting his throat.

SAUL: Well… you certainly read more than many people. Most of the books must be from libraries, I guess? What do you think of the plan to shut down more libraries?

GRAHAM: Well.. I heard someone say that it was possible to determine the degree of civilisation by the way they treated their books. Our libraries are falling into disarray; they’re old, dusty buildings and the books are often in a really bad way.

There’s an audible sigh and groan from the audience. Clive has his head in his hands and more people are leaving.

GRAHAM: I don’t interact with people, as you.. ahem.. know. I just can’t. They live by the sound bite, short twittered attention spans, no depth to their lives. Books are an investment into one's soul, allowing the individuals to grow, but all I see are stunted people everywhere.

Saul sees more people leaving. Clive is about to storm the set and turn the lights off. Saul looks at Graham fidget, looks at the audience.

SAUL (in his stage voice): Talking of stunted people, tweetie pie! You’re the latest victim of THE KUNT!

There is now an audible gasp from the audience. Those that were in the process of leaving suddenly rush back to their seats. There’s a palpable round of applause and Clive is really surprised and delighted by this turn of events. Graham doesn’t know what to think, he just looks at Saul for confirmation of what’s happening. Saul will not look at him.

SAUL: Would you believe this guy? He doesn’t have a television. He didn’t have a microwave, until I gave him one. He didn’t even have a radio or an electric alarm clock until I gave him one. He still doesn’t have a girlfriend and I’m certainly not giving him one of those.

Saul is on a roll. He insults every aspect of Graham’s life and has never been so savage before. Graham just sits there and takes it.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. THE STREET OUTSIDE GRAHAM’S HOUSE - NIGHT

The night after the biggest show of Saul’s life. He’s reading the news on his mobile about how he engineered the biggest coup in internet and broadcasting history. He doesn’t look happy though. He comes to Graham’s house and stops. The gate is broken. There is a dustbin visible and inside are all the electrical items that Saul bought him, including the boxes. There are cords trailing outside, and the lid isn’t on properly so we can see a toaster, or the cd player… The windows have boards against them where someone has tried breaking them. The words “SPECCY TWAT” are spray-painted on the door. Saul ponders whether or not to knock on the door. He hears Jacqueline de Pre playing faintly from within. He then hears someone walking on the opposite side of the street to him.

PASSER-BY: (SHOUTS) Who loves you, Kunty baby?!

SAUL (SHOUTING BACK): Who hates to love you back?

Saul continues walking through the night-time streets.

FADE OUT:

The Buddy Story - A Screenplay

INT. COMEDY CLUB - NIGHT

A smokey, dingey third-rate comedy club. The club has barely anyone inside: a couple at the bar and two or three sitting closer to the stage. There is silence because BUDDY is dying on stage; his tight fitting suit seems to be winning the battle for breath. He holds the microphone like he’s trying to throttle it. Behind BUDDY is a battered sign on an easel: “THE BUDDY PARSNIP SHOW”.

BUDDY (Talking into the microphone):Why is a martyr like the Grateful Dead? They're both stoned?

Absolute silence from the audience, maybe an embarrassed cough.

BUDDY: Manic depressives make the best pilots! Why? They're already flying solo.

A couple of people look at each other in confusion.

BUDDY: I used to have a drinking problem... I tried drinking gasses instead of liquids!

Another patron throws a plastic bottle at Buddy and it hits him on the chest.

AUDIENCE MEMBER (Shouts): YOU SUCK!

CUT TO:

TITLE CARD: THE BUDDY STORY

INT. DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Buddy sits alone in the backstage communal dressing room. He stares at himself in the mirror. His reflection winks back just as Mr O'Flattery opens the door. He walks up to Buddy and slaps him on the shoulder.

Mr O'Flaterry is overbearingly small. 

MR O'FLATTERY: Well, you done it again, pal! Well done. I knew I could really rely on you!

BUDDY: I bombed! Again! You heard them out there…

MR O'FLATTERY: That’s what I like best about your act, kid! You manage to clear the house every time you're on! Tuesdays and Thursdays I have a hard time getting rid of the drunks; but the nights that you're on they just get up and leave!

Buddy slumps deeper into his chair and stares at his reflection. His reflection grimaces briefly.

MR O'FLATTERY: Look, business was crap before you got here and you haven't made it any worst!But I swear that some people come in just to see how bad you are! At least they’re never disappointed.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Buddy stands outside his front door. He sees the light in the lounge window is on. He grimaces as he carefully puts the key in the lock as quietly as he can manage. He slowly unlocks the front door and silently shuts it behind him.

CUT TO:

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

He then fumbles his keys and drops them on the floor.

JANGLING CRASH

BUDDY'S MOTHER (An almost manly voice. Menacing but laced with paranoia):Buddy? What time do you call this? You never tell me where you're going or when you'll be back... don't you care about me? Don't you care?

Buddy takes his shoes off in the hall, shaking his head; cowed by his mother once again. 

CUT TO:

INT. LOUNGE - NIGHT

Buddy walks into the lounge. His mother sits on a sofa opposite the television. She has a mug of horlicks on the reading table next to her. She is tall and thin. She is incredibly strong in being weak.

Buddy stands by the door at the edge of the room. He stares at his mum with resignation and hostility.

BUDDY: Mum, for Christ's sake, I'm 36 years old.. I can take care of myself.

BUDDY'S MUM: You can take care of yourself but you don't take care of me! What did I do to deserve such a son?

Buddy sighs.

BUDDY: Mum! For Christ’s sake: I do look after you, well.. I would if you let me. I pay more than enough rent and I try to take you out.

BUDDY'S MUM: I don't want to go outside where all the people are, you never know where they've been! They're too nosey, inconsiderate.. You should stay with me, we could watch television!

BUDDY: Mum – I'm tired, I'm going to bed.

BUDDY'S MUM: Why don't you tell me where you go at night? Is there a woman? Oh, please let there be a woman!

BUDDY: Don't worry, mum -I'm fine!

BUDDY’S MUM: So, there is a woman then?

BUDDY: NO! There's no woman!

BUDDY'S MUM: Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you don’t bring her back?

BUDDY: For the last time. There's no woman, there’s no man… and there are no sheep! But yes - I am ashamed of you. Now good night!.

Buddy turns, walks out the door before his mother has a chance to reply.

CUT TO:

INT. COMEDY CLUB - NIGHT

Another night. Less people than before. Mr O’Flattery looks bemused due to the poor quality of jokes. Buddy at the mic.

BUDDY: What’s the stupidest insect? An ignorant! What’s worse than that though? A sycophant!!

BUDDY'S MUM (Shouts from the back of the room): BUDDY! What are you doing here? I was sick with worry.

Buddy is shocked. His mouth is open and he is in a state of disbelief. The few customers are suddenly more awake and paying attention.

BUDDY (choked): Mum?

Buddy’s mum is walking fast from the back of the room.

BUDDY'S MUM: I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere! Or in a hospital somewhere… or with a woman. I was hoping it was with a woman… or even a man would have been better than this!

The audience, as it is, is paying rapt attention to what is happening. There are smirks and even titters of laughter can be heard.

BUDDY: What are you doing here, Mum?

BUDDY'S MUM: What do you think I'm doing here? I followed you! Why are you making such a sucker out of yourself? Why couldn't you have been with a woman? Even a whore... Anything would have been better than this!

Buddy panics, looks at the audience. The audience is enjoying this. He looks at Mr O’Flattery. Mr O’Flattery grins and gives him the thumbs up. 

BUDDY: Drummers make the worst cryptologists… Why? They’re always crashing their cymbals?

BUDDY'S MUM: Why couldn't it have been a woman?

The audience laughs loudly and Buddy looks utterly defeated.

CUT TO:

INT. BUDDY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

His bedroom is actually smaller than the shared dressing room of the comedy club. The cramped single bed is snug in the far corner. There are posters of Eddie Murphy; Dustin Hoffman (as Lenny Bruce); Tommy Cooper and Jasper Carrott. Buddy is sitting on the edge of his bed, facing his reflection in the built-in mirrored wardrobe. His face is stalwart; his brow is furrowed in frustration. His reflection is frowning, gnashing his teeth. His reflection starts talking. Buddy’s mouth remains shut.

BUDDY'S REFLECTION: She’s done it again; ruined everything. I can’t take it anymore. She’s got to go… But how?

BUDDY: Garrote?

Buddy’s reflection shakes his head.

BUDDY: Push her downstairs?

Another shake of the head.

BUDDY: Freak gardening accident? Swallowing powdered glass?

BUDDY'S REFLECTION: Her cooking is worse, remember?

Silence. Buddy is fuming now. 

BUDDY: GAH! They thought she was brilliant! They never paid that much attention to me before!

BUDDY'S REFLECTION: You were the perfect double-act. They loved the conflict… It’s a shame you can’t make her take part…

BUDDY: Hang on a fucking minute… Maybe I can…

CUT TO:

INT. BEHIND THE STAGE AT THE COMEDY CLUB - NIGHT

Buddy is waiting to go on. He has a stool with him and a suitcase by his side. Mr O’Flattery walks up behind him, beaming.

MR O'FLATTERY: It's a full house, kid! People must have heard of your ball-breaking. They've turned up in droves to see if she turns up again. so… will she?

BUDDY: She might… she just might…

INT. STAGE - NIGHT

Buddy walks on to the stage, carrying his case and stool. He sets the case on the floor next to the stage and starts his act.

BUDDY: What’s the smallest piece of stationery you can get? A PINcel sharpener! 

Somebody boo’s.

BUDDY: What would Doctor Who be if he lived under the sea? A brine lord!

Another boo from the crowd.

BUDDY: What is it when you throw a cat back at someone? A recatipulated catapult!

CROWD - MIXED VOICES: BOO! Get OFF the stage!! Where’s your mum?!

Everyone laughs at this last comment.

SUITCASE (Buddy jostles the suitcase with his foot. The voice is just like his mothers!): BUDDY!!

The audience goes silent. Everyone looks to the back of the room. No one is there.

SUITCASE: Buddy! Let me out!

Mr O’Flattery puts the club lights on.

SUITCASE: Let me out of this fucking suitcase!

Laughter from the audience. Buddy picks the suitcase up with some difficulty.

BUDDY: Oh shit. I’m for it now!

More laughter. Buddy opens the suitcase, whips out the caricatured puppet of his mother. Cheers from the audience.

MOTHER PUPPET: Who the hell are they, Buddy? This isn’t some kind of orgy, is it? Why can’t you live a normal life like that Mr O’Fattery over there.

A bout of laughter. O’Flattery laughs from the side of the stage.

BUDDY: Muuuum… Don’t say that, it’s Mr O’Flatterly.. I mean, O’Flattery!! You’re going to get me fired!

MOTHER PUPPET: Just when you’re finally getting an audience? This must be the first time they’re laughing WITH you rather than at you…

More laughs.

MOTHER PUPPET (to the audience): I’m so glad you’re here though. I’ve been very worried about him. For years I’ve thought there was something wrong with him… but he’s finally got wood AND been able to give someone else a really good fingering.

BUDDY (feigning embarrassment): Muuuum…

FADE OUT:

MONTAGE

Clips of Buddy performing over a series of nights; the audience getting larger. Always performing with MOTHER. Mr O’Flattery beaming wide, counting the money; Buddy getting paid more and more money.

MOTHER PUPPET: Clean out your room! It’s like a rat's nest!

BUDDY: I’m not surprised. You won’t let me out of the basement and the rats don’t want to share!

MOTHER PUPPET: Are you one of those mono-sexuals?

BUDDY

Only if my right hand counts!

CUT TO:

INT. COMEDY CLUB BAR - NIGHT

Buddy is relaxing at the bar when a very attractive woman walks up to him. 

MANDY: I love your act… you’re so funny!

MOTHER PUPPET VOICE: Watch out for this one… she looks like a gold-digger.

BUDDY: She’s not after your gold-fillings, mum. Shut up!

MANDY (laughs): You’re so funny! Maybe we can go out sometime?

CUT TO:

MONTAGE

Buddy and Mandy walking together, happily. Buddy throws his voice at different times.

CUT TO:

INT. THEATER - EVENING

Buddy sits with Mandy in the more expensive seats. He winks at Mandy.

BUDDY (Throwing his voice, at no one in particular): Hey, Baldy! Shush! Just zip it!

Everyone turns to look at each other, as does Buddy.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE PARK - MORNING

Mandy and Buddy are sitting down eating sandwiches next to a pond. Buddy is talking to Mandy about his puppets having dry rot. 

MANDY: What? Did you say something, Buddy? I wasn’t listening… 

She points to an elderly couple that’s about to walk past.

MANDY: Go on… here’s your chance! Get them! Make them think they’re hearing voices.

Buddy sighs. The penny has dropped.

CUT TO:

INT. COMEDY CLUB STAGE - NIGHT

Buddy is on stage with his mother puppet. There is another suitcase on the floor next to him. Mandy is in the audience. All of a sudden the routine just stops. The mother puppet just looks at Buddy and then down at the audience.

MOTHER PUPPET: Ok, where is she? Where is the cradle snatching, money grabbing whore?

The audience are holding their breath in anticipation. This is something new. 

SAMMI PUPPET: How dare you!

Buddy reaches down with his other hand. Opens the suitcase and another puppet is produced. This is Sammi; a very rude caricature of Mandy. Mandy gasps in horror.

SAMMI PUPPET: You miserable old windbag! You termite ridden harridan!

MOTHER PUPPET: Buddy! Are you going to let her get away with that?

BUDDY: What can I do? I haven’t got any hands free!

The audience is laughing hard now. Mandy is sobbing and gets up. She walks away crying. Buddy doesn’t notice her. The Sammi puppet does though and jiggles up and down, as if it's laughing.

CUT TO:

EXT. COMEDY CLUB EXTERIOR - NIGHT

A large, gaudy poster of Buddy holding the mother puppet. “THE BUDDY SHOW!” and then in smaller letters: “Comedy is not the only thing that's wooden!”

CUT TO:

INT. COMEDY CLUB STAGE - NIGHT

Buddy is on stage. On one hand is the Sammi puppet. On the other is a new creation; a crude version of Buddy. 

The puppet of Buddy is on the left hand; Sammi on the other. They are on either side of Buddy and can’t see each other. The Buddy puppet peers over to Sammi and when the Sammi puppet peers back he disappears behind Buddy, embarrassed.

SAMMI PUPPET: Are you interested in ornithology?

BUDDY PUPPET: I’m not sure, why?

SAMMI PUPPET: Because I’d love to see your little woodpecker!

Both puppets ‘kiss’ and get ‘naked’. They start having sex.The audience is a little bemused by this. The humping becomes more strenuous then:

SAMMI PUPPET: Buddy?

BUDDY PUPPET: Whaaat?

SAMMI PUPPET: Why does your mum hate me?

BUDDY PUPPET: She doesn't, sweetie. She just doesn't understand you.

SAMMI PUPPET: That’s alright then.

The rhythm resumes its intensity. It suddenly stops again.

SAMMI PUPPET: Buddy?

BUDDY PUPPET: What now?

SAMMI PUPPET: I was thinking… Maybe we should get married?

BUDDY PUPPET (looks at audience): Well, I’ve lost wood!

CUT TO:

INT. DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Buddy is alone in his dressing room. It’s a large one now. The door slams open. His mother enters, enraged. She’s holding the puppet of herself.

BUDDY'S MOTHER: What the hell is this, Buddy? What do you call this? What is happening?

Buddy’s mother slams the door behind her. She throws the puppet at Buddy.

BUDDY: Be careful with that?

BUDDY'S MOTHER (shouting): Be careful? What about me? Do you know what other people are saying about me? They think it's all outrageously funny and obviously thought I knew about it!

Buddy’s mother is enraged. Buddy gets up and tries to get away.

Buddy’s mother goes to grab him by the lapels but he pushes her away. She slaps him hard against the cheek.

BUDDY'S MOTHER: Stand still, boy! You’re such a selfish brat; I can’t believe I’ve looked after you all this time! And this is what you do to me!

Buddy is backed into a corner now and rubs his cheek where he was slapped. He tries to ward his mother off but she lunges for him again. 

Buddy pushes her back hard and she stumbles.

Buddy looks to the make-up table and sees a pair of nail scissors. He brandishes them against her.

BUDDY (in his Buddy puppet voice):That’s it! I can’t stand it anymore! You’re for the wood chipper!

Buddy starts stabbing his mother with the nail scissors. She screams out, falls and blocks the door. Buddy just keeps stabbing. There are knocks on the door from Mr O’Flattery.

MR O'FLATTERY: Hey! What’s going on in there?

BUDDY: I’m just rehearsing for the next show!

MOTHER PUPPET: Oh no you’re not!

BUDDY PUPPET: Shut up! It’s not funny!

BUDDY'S MOTHER (interrupting with a scream):Help! He’s really killing me!

BUDDY: Shut up! Why won’t you fucking die!

Mr O’Flattery tries pushing the door but Buddy’s mother is still blocking it.

MR O'FLATTERY: I’m getting the police!

BUDDY PUPPET: You’re for it now!

CUT TO:

INT. OUTSIDE THE DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The police are outside the dressing room. They pound on the door.

BUDDY PUPPET VOICE: I told you! I’m rehearsing!

POLICE: Open up, or else we’ll have to break down the door.

Buddy opens the door. He stands to one side. The police walk in. There is a large suitcase in the corner. There is a trail of  blood leading to it. The suitcase is almost closed. Arms and legs protrude from it.

BUDDY: Look at it this way. I’ve got perfect material for the comeback!

FADE OUT:

Dab Hands - an original screenplay

INT. MAIN HOUSE, DANCEFLOOR - NIGHT

A small island, similar to Brownsea Island. Tonight it’s cut off by a storm. An elegant Georgian house with several large windows and two huge patio doors. A sombre version of Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood” plays. Seven people sit around, staring into space as the rain patters on the window. They seem lethargic and bored.

No one seems that interested in what is happening outside. They ignore the storm. The lights flicker. They ignore that too. The lights go out. The patio doors are suddenly pushed open and 3 women and 4 men stagger in. They are all soaked and wearing life-jackets. The seven people suddenly get up as the music starts the last refrain.

CUT TO:

TITLE CARD:  DAB HANDS (The music suddenly changes to the normal speed and key)

CUT TO:

INT. LOUNGE - NIGHT

Everyone has moved into the large lounge area. The lights are back on now. All the women have been given blankets and towels to dry themselves off. They are drinking tea or coffee. The men are still sodden but drinking either whisky or brandy.

GRANT: I never even knew you could get ship-wrecked in the UK….

RACHAEL: I would hardly call it ship-wrecked… Ryan just proved once again that he had no idea what he was doing!

SASHA: Didn’t stop you following him though. You didn’t try to help out. If you knew what you were doing we would never have capsized.

RACHAEL: I was never in favor of this in the first place!

JON: You’re always so quick to blame others. When are you going to take responsibility for your own actions?

The 6 older people look at each other. They seem to have been forgotten about in the melee. Zoe takes the lead.

ZOE: As long as you’re all ok though. That’s the main thing.

JAMIE: Yeah; it’s such a vicious night, I’m surprised you managed to find us!

RYAN: We saw your lights from the shore. We’re sorry about smashing the windows when we came in like that. 

IAIN: We’ll pay for everything that we broke. We’re just grateful for you.

HELEN: Turn the other cheek, why don’t you. You don’t have to turn everything into a sermon!

GRANT: Not now, Helen. Get off your soapbox. 

(to the residents)

GRANT:  wonder if we could use your phone, or if we could possibly have a change of clothes. Everything we own is on the yacht.

LIZ: I’m afraid that the phone line is out, due to the storm. There’s not much electricity either, this building is on a back-up generator which is independent of the rest of the island…

ALISTAIR: …I’m sure we’ll be able to help you get into warm clothes though. They might not fit properly and won’t be in your fashion but between us we can sort you out. I think it’s best that we split up and put one or two of you up for the night. We might have a bit of tucker that you can help yourself to, if you like?

RACHAEL: That would be lovely; thank you so much. Is it just yourselves on this island?

ZOE: Well, there’s normally more of us but this is off-peak… apart from the six of us there’s only Deidre and Ronald; but they live on the other side of the island. They tend to keep to themselves really…

IAN: Well, how do you want to split yourselves up? Who’s who?

GRANT: Sasha and Jon are a bit of an item…

ZOE: You can come with me if you like… It’s a little cottage with an allotment. You’ll find it very homely.

SASHA: Yes, I felt you were a very earthy woman. 

ZOE: Thank you… I think… Off we go.

Zoe walks off with Sasha and Jon. Rachael looks at Grant and rolls her eyes. As Zoe leads Sasha and Jon down the driveway, they take a left turn beyond the courtyard. 

Helen walks with Liz and they walk out the front door and turn right. The storm has died down now. 

Rachael and Grant walk with Victoria and Alistair and follow the track straight ahead.  Iain goes with Gordon.

IAIN: Peace be with you!

Everyone ignores him. Iain follows Gordon down the driveway. The door closes behind them. Their voices carry back across the courtyard.

GORDON: You’re not religious, are you?

IAIN: I’m born again.

GORDON: Of course you are.

It is now just Jenny and the two men left. 

IAN: Guess that’s time for me. Good night, the pair of you.

Ian walks away down the hall. Ryan is left with Jenny. He has been eyeing her all night. He follows Jenny up stairs. 

CUT TO:

INT. MAIN HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT

Jenny and Ryan are standing in an upstairs hallway. There are three doors. The closest is a spare room which Jenny points to.

JENNY: It’s not much, but it will do for you.

RYAN: What happens if I get lonely?

JENNY: There’s some stuffed toys on the bed that will keep you company; should you need some creature comfort. Good night.

Jenny walks away into her room, diagonally opposite Ryan’s room. Ryan walks into his room and shuts the door.

CUT TO:

INT. ZOE’S LOUNGE - NIGHT

Sasha and Jon sit on the sofa. Zoe sits in the lounge chair opposite.

ZOE: I’m an early riser so I’ll try to be careful when I come down for breakfast. 

SASHA: Don’t we get a bed? It’s been a helluva night… I think I might need some loving, if you know what I mean… 

ZOE: You’re here under sufferance. I’m not all that prim but I gather that the two of you are not married. I will not have you acting like a…. What do you call them? Hoe? In my cottage, thank you very much. The sofa is quite comfortable and I hope you both have a good night's sleep. Good night.

Zoe gets up and walks up the stairs, leaving Jon and Sasha grinning mischievously at each other.

JON: Lovely… You really have a great way with words, Sash! I thought she would never go.

SASHA: I thought she would have more empathy. There’s nothing in her at all.

JON: Talking of being in someone.

Jon leans across Sasha and starts stroking her breasts whilst kissing her neck. Sasha moans and then stops herself and Jon abruptly.

SASHA: We can’t do it here. What if she hears something?

JON: She might want to join in!

SASHA: God, she must be sixty and a day! She’s ancient!

JON: Don’t you want to get freaky?

SASHA: Not with someone that close to death! How about we do it in the potting shed?

JON: That sounds evil! We’ll be doing our own potting! Let’s do it!

Sasha and Jon walk out of the lounge, and outside. They cross the small courtyard and walk into the potting shed.

CUT TO:

INT. ZOE’S POTTING SHED - NIGHT

There are lots of rickety tables with rows of pots and flowers. Watering cans and rows of tools hanging on various hooks. There’s a few pairs of gardening gloves near the door and a pair of weighty wellington boots and a yellow sou'wester with a yellow waterproof hood.

Sasha and Jon start to undress. They move a couple of the bags of peat on to the floor to create a make-shift bed. They then drape their clothes on it so it’s not cold or damp to the touch. Sasha drapes herself on the peat bed and entices Jon. Jon leans into Sasha and kisses her deeply. He then mounts her.

CUT TO:

INT. ZOE’S POTTING SHED DOOR - NIGHT

The potting shed door opens quietly and someone walks in. Sasha and Jon can be heard fucking. It’s lurid and undignified. The person puts on the sou’wester and pulls over the hood. They put the gardening gloves on and walk quietly to the tool rack. They pick up a hoe and walk over to the pair loudly humping on the peat.

The person brandishes the hoe as they stand over the writhing bodies. They swing the hoe down in a hard chopping motion and severs Jon’s head. They then chop down several times in rapid succession before Sasha can even scream.

CUT TO:

INT. JENNY'S GUEST ROOM - NIGHT

Ryan is sitting on the bed, stripped down to his y-fronts. There is a dressing gown hanging on the door. He gets off the bed, walks to the door and snatches the dressing gown.

RYAN: Fuck this. I’m horny.

Ryan walks out of the guest room and knocks on the door to Jenny’s room. Jenny opens the door and Ryan just pushes through.

CUT TO:

INT. JENNY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

There is a large bed in the middle of the room. In the far corner is another door to an en suite bathroom. The door is shut. Jenny is being co-erced back into the room and is pushed back on the bed. She whimpers.

JENNY: No… please don’t. I don’t think you understand.

RYAN: It’s very simple, tits. You and me; three minutes to heaven and back.

Ryan walks around the bed, like a hunter. He takes the robe off. Behind him the bathroom door opens. There is a light on. It’s suddenly switched off. Ryan doesn’t notice.

RYAN: We going to do this the easy way or the hard way?

Ryan is about to get on to the bed when he’s tapped on the shoulder. He turns around. Ian is standing there. Ian punches Ryan hard in the stomach and then knees Ryan in the groin.

IAN: Let’s make this the hard way. 

Ian pushes Ryan, who is still doubled up in pain. Ian takes Ryan by the scruff of the neck and almost carries him into the hall. Ian drags Ryan down the stairs, so quick that Ryan can not get to grips with what is happening. Then they are at the front door. Ian opens the door and throws Ryan out.

IAN: We open our home to you and this is how you repay us?

RYAN: What about my clothes? I’m going to freeze out here!

IAN: You should have thought of that before you tried to rape my wife. You wanted it the hard way… I don’t want to see you any more. Come anywhere near this place again tonight and I will make it permanent and there are plenty of places I can hide a body!

Ryan sticks his finger up at Ian before running away into the drizzling night.

CUT TO:

INT. GORDON’S HOUSE - NIGHT

Gordon is begrudgingly showing Iain where he’ll be sleeping for the night. He opens the door and looks into the room. He notices something.

IAIN: I’m sorry, Gordon; but do you have a Bible I can read? I always read the Bible before I go to bed.

GORDON: Do I look as if I’ve got a Bible? The answer is no. I don’t. You’ll have to go without. Abstinence is good for you, after all. 

Gordon laughs as he walks away into his own bedroom. Iain looks as the door shuts.

IAIN (To himself): Strange man… Fancy not having a Bible… Wait a minute. I know where I can get one. We left out bags in the hotel; maybe there’s one there.

Iain walks out of his bedroom, down the stairs and braves the drizzle.

CUT TO:

EXT. GORDON’S GARDEN - NIGHT

Iain can’t tell which way he’s going. Gordon doesn’t have a pathway as such, just a succession of stepping stones leading in a snake-curve pattern. Iain is walking on the lawn when he hears someone walking behind him.

IAIN: Is that you, Gordon?

PERSON IN SOU'WESTER: Turn the other cheek to this!

Iain turns around to see someone standing behind him wearing a sou-wester and brandishing a croquet mallet. They swing the mallet and crack Iain’s head hard, knocking him down.

CUT TO:

EXT. GORDON’S LAWN - NIGHT

Iain opens his eyes to rain falling heavy on his prone body. He tries to move his arms but pain shoots through all of his limbs. There are croquet hoops driven through his wrists and ankles so he can not move. He is splayed out, as if on the cross but on muddy grass. There is a croquet hoop covering his throat and he is having trouble breathing. The rain is entering his mouth and he starts coughing. He tries shouting for help but his vocal cords go into spasm and his mouth shuts tight. As he looks about he can see someone standing close to him. They are still wearing the Sou’wester and they walk closer, holding the croquet mallet loosely. The person stands over Iain before walking away, leaving him to his fate.

CUT TO:

EXT. JENNY & IAN’S GARDEN - NIGHT

Ryan is running, naked, through the garden trying not to slip. He can hear dogs barking in the distance. He stops and listens. The dogs are getting closer. He starts running again. He slips and falls a couple of times. The dog barks are getting closer. It’s still raining and the visibility is poor. He doesn’t see the edge of the cliff until it’s too late. Ryan falls over the cliff. The two Alsatian dogs peer over the cliff with the tongues lolling and tails wagging. They walk away.

CUT TO:

INT. VICTORIA & ALISTAIR'S COTTAGE - MORNING

Rachael wakes up in her own room. Sunlight is streaming through the curtains. It’s a fine day. She gets dressed and looks at her watch. 

She knocks on the dividing door to see if Grant is awake.

GRANT: Yeah; I’m awake and decent.

Rachael opens the door and walks in. Grant is sitting on the bed.

RACHAEL: That’s never stopped me before.

Rachael sits on the bed next to Grant and kisses him on the cheek.

GRANT: Today’s different. It wouldn’t be right. 

Grant kisses Rachael on the lips.

GRANT: Besides, something feels… wrong. I can’t put my finger on it…

SCREAM from outside

Grant and Rachael dash to the window. They see Helen running up the path, sobbing her heart out. Rachael and Grant run out of the room.

CUT TO:

EXT. VICTORIA & ALISTAIR'S GARDEN - MORNING

Helen is nearly at the front door when Victoria opens it. Helen falls into Helen’s arms and cries. She is distraught. Victoria tries to comfort her.

VICTORIA: There, there. It’s alright, pet. Everything will be alright.

HELEN: You don’t understand. Nothing is ever going to be alright. He’s dead!

Rachael and Grant run outside and seek to comfort Helen.

RACHAEL: Dead? Who’s dead, Helen?

HELEN (sobs): Iain is!

Victoria (looks shocked): He can’t be!

HELEN (almost hysterical): He’s on the grass! I found him dead on the grass over there! He’s got things rammed into his feet and hands! He’s dead, I tell you!

GRANT: Show us where he is.

Helen leads Grant, Rachael and Victoria to where Iain is splayed out on the croquet lawn. Victoria, who has been disturbed by Helen’s outburst looks more relaxed and calmer when she sees it’s Iain that’s dead.

CUT TO:

INT. VICTORIA & ALISTAIRS LOUNGE - MORNING

Helen is asleep on the sofa whilst Grant and Rachael sit on a sofa opposite her. Victoria is kneeling over Helen using a warm cloth to soothe Helen’s brow.

VICTORIA: Poor love; she’s had such a time of it.

Alistair walks into the lounge, shaking his head.

ALISTAIR: Bloody phone lines are down still. There’s so many good reasons to live on this island but this isn’t one of them!

GRANT: We can’t help Iain now, but we need to find Ryan; Sasha and Jon. They’re probably fine, but in the light of what’s happened to Iain for all we know there’s a maniac around.

VICTORIA (looks shocked and hurt): That’s lovely. We all put you up for the night and you turn around and make accusations like that.

ALISTAIR: Now, Pet. Don’t be like that. I’m sure that’s not how Grant meant it.

(looks at Grant)

GRANT: (Pauses and then shakes his head): No… Of course not. 

RACHAEL: For all we know, Ryan could have done it.

Grant looks at Rachael askew. Alistair is still staring at Grant.

ALISTAIR: Don’t you think you should apologise to Victoria then? For making such an accusation?

Grant looks to Rachael. Rachael nods minutely.

GRANT: I’m sorry if what I said offended you, Victoria.

VICTORIA: That’s alright; it’s been difficult for all of us. What are you going to do now?

RACHAEL: I think we need to find the other three. 

ALISTAIR: We need to split up then; cover more ground.

RACHAEL: I think that’s a bad idea. We don’t know what’s happened to the others. If we split up, and it is… Ryan, who knows what could happen.

GRANT: I think Alistair is right. He and Victoria can search one side of the island. You and I can search the other.

VICTORIA: I think it’s best that I stay with Helen, just in case she wakes up. Alistair can stay with Rachael and look after her if Ryan turns up. Grant can search the far side of the island. He can pop into Deidrie and Ronald's cottage. Something may have happened to them in the interim!

ALISTAIR: I had forgotten about them in the melee. Would you mind, Grant? Rachael can look after me as we check to see if Zoe, Jenny and Ian are ok.

Rachael nods. They all get up, pair off and head outside, leaving Victoria still kneeling over Helen.

CUT TO:

EXT. ZOE’S COTTAGE - MORNING

Rachael and Alistair walk up the garden path. Zoe is waiting at the front door and smiles at them both.

RACHAEL: Morning. It’s imperative that I know whether Sasha and Jon are awake… Have you seen them this morning?

ZOE: No. I saw them last night before I went to bed. Why, what happened?

ALISTAIR: Iain’s been found dead.

ZOE (momentarily shocked): Ian?

(Calms herself when Alistair coughs)

ZOE: Was it an accident? Things can happen if you’re not careful at night, if you go wandering in the wet. Was that all that happened? What about Deidr…

RACHAEL: (interrupts) It was no… accident. Look, I just want to see if Sasha and Jon are ok.

ZOE: I think I heard them in the potting shed last night. They were… doing things there… 

CUT TO:

INT. VICTORIA’S LOUNGE - MORNING

Helen wakes up and rubs her eyes. She looks around her and realises where she is. She remembers Iain’s body and sobs. She pulls herself together though and gets up. 

HELEN: Hello? Is there anyone there?

FEMALE VOICE: I’m in the kitchen, dear. Are you ok or are you still feeling a bit tender? 

Helen walks out the lounge door and into the hall. The kitchen door is shut.

HELEN: It’s still too much to take in. I can’t believe he’s dead.

FEMALE VOICE: I’ll make you a lovely cup of tea. One lump or two?

Helen opens the door and walks into the kitchen. 

CUT TO:

INT. VICTORIA’S KITCHEN - MORNING

There on the large oak table is Iain naked, laid out with his arms and legs falling over the sides. Holes in his hands where the croquet hoops were. Helen can’t scream. She is about to turn around when she is hit hard twice on the side of the head by a meat tenderising hammer. She falls down on the floor next to the table.

FEMALE VOICE: Two lumps it is then…

CUT TO:

INT. ZOE'S POTTING SHED - MORNING

Rachael walks into the potting shed with Zoe and Alistair behind her. As she walks in she sees two large aluminium shelving racks that have been covered up with green, plastic wrap. There’s a pool of liquid puddled beneath. 

RACHAEL: No… no…

Rachael walks up and unzips one. There are a variety of seed trays and pots. Most of them have green shoots and flowers growing out of them. 

Rachael scans each shelf looking for the source of the liquid. On the middle shelf are ten small pots. 

In each of the pots is either a finger or toe, each one painted black. Rachael chokes back a sob. She unzips the other and there, on the middle shelf, are eleven pots.

ZOE: From little acorns grow great oaks. I wonder what we’ll get from those two?

ALISTAIR: I dread to think!

CUT TO:

EXT. OPEN LANDSCAPE - MORNING

Grant is walking purposely. There are footprints still showing on the grass where Ryan ran the previous night. He walks quickly, following them he comes to the cliff edge. He looks down, being careful not to lose his footing. He sees Ryan’s body and shakes his head in dismay.

CUT TO:

INT. ZOE’S POTTING SHED - MORNING

Alistair and Zoe block the doorway to the potting shed. Rachael is standing in between the two racks trying to keep her composure.

RACHAEL: You bastards! You killed them!

ZOE: (Looks to Alistair) Does she mean me? I could never have done that!

Rachael looks quickly around her. She sees a canister of slug repellent as Alistair walks up to her. He tries to grab hold of her arm. Rachael throws the slug repellent into this face and pushes him to one side. She grabs a three pronged cultivator as she dashes away. Zoe lets her run off.

ZOE: She won’t get far…

CUT TO:

EXT. DEIDRE & RONALD'S COTTAGE - MORNING

Grant runs up to the cottage and knocks on the door. Deidre opens it and is shocked to see Grant in such a state.

GRANT: You’ve got to help me. There has to be a telephone around here or a means of contacting the mainland.

DEIDRE: Come in… come in… of course, let me help you.

Deidre shows Grant into their lounge and sits him down.

DEIDRE: You look terrible. You need a drink. Tell me what’s happened.

Deidre walks to the sideboard and uncorks a bottle. She pours a generous measure into a glass and gives it to Grant who accepts it. He drinks it back and splutters a bit. 

GRANT: Ryan… dead.. And Iain before that… I don’t know how Ryan died, but Iain was murdered… so maybe so was Ryan… I just can’t take it in. I need a phone!

Deidre refills his glass. Grant drinks it again. Deidre sits on the sofa next to Grant and strokes his arm in comfort. 

DEIDRE: You poor thing. You’re in shock… it will be alright.

Grant tries to get up but can’t. His head goes light. 

GRANT: What’s wrong with me?

DEIDRE: It’s ok… it’s alright. Let mummy look after you like I looked after the others.

Deidre strokes Grant's face and arms; down his body and then his thighs. She strokes the inside of his thighs. Grant is unable to stop her. Deidre strokes his groin area.

DEIDRE: Oh, you are going to be tasty… Just like all the rest.

Grant pushes Deidre away, horrified and shakily gets up, out of the lounge chair. He turns around and is confronted by Ronald who is holding a boning knife. At his side are two Alsaitan's.

RONALD: Just think what we can make of him. Look! He’s still got some fight in him!

Ronald pushes Grant down easily. Grant falls on the floor and as he looks at Ronald he sees Rachael standing just behind him, grasping the three-pronged cultivator.

Rachael stabs the cultivator into Ronald's neck several times. Blood spurts out, covering the dog's fur.

RACHAEL: He’s not the only one…

Rachael looks at Deidre.

RACHAEL: Don’t you fucking move. Stay right where you are, bitch.

DEIDRE: I intend to, dearie. But just you turn around. 

RACHAEL: Do you really think I’m that stupid?

Grant looks to the lounge window. Zoe, Liz, Jenny and Ian are standing outside, waiting. Rachael turns to look as well and her hand goes limp.

DEIDRE: You’re not our first meal ticket. We’ve done it so many times before, dear. We’ve become dab hands at it…

FADE OUT: