| FADE
IN:
INT.
SHERIFF'S OFFICE/FORKS WASHINGTON - MORNING (PRESENT DAY)
SHERIFF
FRICK (crew cut, 50 years old) and DEPUTY EMMET (25 years old, naïve,
buck teeth) are eating donuts. On the wall, there is a portrait
of the French poet Baudelaire. On the Sheriff's desk there is a
plaque which says "SHERIFF FRICK." There is also a wanted poster
that is clearly visible.
INT.
THE WANTED POSTER
It
says "WANTED: THE ECO-SNEAKER. FOR ENVIRONMENTAL ECOTAGE AND DESTRUCTION
OF PRIVATE PROPERTY."
A CLOSER
VIEW
There
is an illustration of a vague dark figure, sneaking with a monkeywrench.
TWO
SHOT: SHERIFF FRICK AND DEPUTY EMMET - MORNING
The
phone RINGS but both men continue to eat.
SHERIFF
FRICK
(with
his mouth full)
Swine!
You have devoured the last cruller.
DEPUTY
EMMET
Cruller?
What's a cruller?
SHERIFF
FRICK
It
is like a long-john... but it's twisty.
DEPUTY
EMMET
With
cream filling? Like a bismarck?
SHERIFF
FRICK
No.
Definitely not.
DEPUTY
EMMET
It's
not like a bismarck?
SHERIFF
FRICK
No!
A cruller is like a long, twisty, cake donut.
DEPUTY
EMMET
Like
a glazed donut? Or like... with sprinkles?
SHERIFF
FRICK
It's
like a plain donut. A plain, long, twisty donut. It is related
to the long-john, but not the glazed.
DEPUTY
EMMET
(handing
the Sheriff a plain donut)
Well
howabout this one then?
SHERIFF
FRICK
Regular
donut, Shmegular donut! I desire crullers! I dream of crullers!
I get up in the morning for crullers! Crullers give me reason,
purpose, strength... a sense of humor. I might even exist
for crullers alone! They are my ambrosia!... A man must
have ambrosia!... But you, you masticating moron... you
have devoured all the stinking crullers!
DEPUTY
EMMET
I
thought they were long-johns...
SHERIFF
FRICK
Are
long-johns twisty?
DEPUTY
EMMET
Uhh...
no.
SHERIFF
FRICK
Do
long-johns come unglazed?
DEPUTY
EMMET
Well...
no...
SHERIFF
FRICK
(rolling
eyeballs toward ceiling)
Answer
the phone Deputy.
DEPUTY
EMMET
(looking
at the switchboard)
It's
line 3 Sheriff... the Sasquatch Hot-line!
SHERIFF
FRICK
Just
answer it... thief of crullers!
DEPUTY
EMMET
(answering
the phone)
Hello,
1-800-BIGFOOT... uh huh... okay... just a sec...
(to
the Sheriff)
It
sounds real this time...
SHERIFF
FRICK
I'll
take it.
(he
takes the phone)
Go
ahead. It's your nickel...
(he
scribbles on a note pad)
uhh
huh... yeah... okay... where?... when?... height?... weight?...
alright... thank you very much, we'll get right on it.
Sheriff
Frick hangs up, then crumples up the piece of paper he just scribbled
on. He tosses it into the wastebasket.
DEPUTY
EMMET
Sasquatch sighting?...
SHERIFF
FRICK
Sasquatch
my butt!
DEPUTY
EMMET
(surprised)
Your
butt?
SHERIFF
FRICK
(with
increasing mockery)
Yes!
My butt! Bigfoot... my butt! Bigfoot here, Bigfoot there!
Bigfoot this, Bigfoot that! Bigfoot ate my marshmallows,
Bigfoot stole my Winnebago! Bigfoot Bigfoot Bigfoot!...
DEPUTY
EMMET
(excited)
Once
me and Jimmy Skaggs were up fishing by Neah Bay and we saw
this big ape-looking thing come out of the woods... it had
a bucket and a clamming shovel... and then it started clamming
away... right there on the beach... it was low tide and...
SHERIFF
FRICK
(his
rage rising melodramatically)
Poppycock!
Monsters! Do Not! Exist!... Petty imaginations, however,
do. And so does the communal act of self-hypnotism! Oh yes,
I've seen it before. Believe-you-me, Deputy. Oh yes... the
mindless masses and all their transparent crackpot visions...
their Hooie! Their eternal need to disguise the inexplicable...
to cast blame upon fur, and fang! I mean, how ludicrous.
I mean just look at the core -- the very core -- of all
the monsters that we seek and see... look at all the foolish
shrouded souls in the world, casting further their obscurity!
Are we so myopic? Yes! Monsters, my young green friend,
are excuses which we invent to conveniently answer for the
responsibilities that we cannot live up to. They are the
projections of our own hoary selves! --
DEPUTY
EMMET
(grabbing
for another donut)
Mmmmmmmm,
bear-claw --
SHERIFF
FRICK
(continuing
over-dramatically)
Monsters!
Bah! They are figments! Fantasy! Fiction! Only desires lurk,
Deputy! Human nature is prone to hallucination! And that's
what crushes! Exaggerates! Destroys! Monsters... I tell
you... Do Not! Exist! And neither do gnomes, specters, werewolves,
vampires, Easter bunnies, poltergeists, or Klingons! But
fearful minuscule psyches do! And their mission is to distort!
Confuse! Cause chaos! Delirium!...
DEPUTY
EMMET
(looking
up slowly, and stupidly)
But...
how do you know?
SHERIFF
FRICK'S EYES
There's
madness beneath his furling brow. His laser gaze burns conviction
back at Deputy Emmet.
BAUDELAIRE'S
EYES
Baudelaire's
eyes hold the same deep, tormented expression.
SHERIFF
FRICK
He
speaks in a Clint Eastwood-like fashion.
SHERIFF
FRICK
I
just know... punk.
DEPUTY
EMMET
He
GULPS loudly.
SHERIFF
FRICK
He
suddenly SMASHES his fist on the table, as if fighting something
in himself.
SHERIFF
FRICK
Monsters!
DO NOT! EXIST!
CUT
TO:
EXT.
AN OLYMPIC NATIONAL FOREST CAMPGROUND - DAY
A FAT
MOM, a FAT DAD, and LITTLE BILLY are lounging in lawnchairs outside
their titanic R.V. which is dubbed "NATUREBAGO DELUXE." They are
gorging themselves on frankfurters and watching television.
LITTLE
BILLY
(looking
into the distance)
Holy
Toledo! A monster the size of four school buses put together!
It must weigh as much as three blue whales!
FAT
DAD
Sure
Billy. And the Pope rides a Harley...
CUT
TO:
EXT.
THE RAINFOREST (SPFX) - DAY
A behemoth
MUD-PUPPY rises from the ferns and fog. It looks around, sees the
fat family, and starts making for them.
POV
OF MUD-PUPPY
The
fat family is staring back, dumbfounded.
FAT
MOM
(screeching)
Oh
my God! The Pope rides a Harley!
EXT.
THE CAMPGROUND (SPFX) - DAY
The
mud-puppy storms in, swallows up the SCREAMING family, flattens
the Naturebago, and exits the frame trailing a long slimy tail that
seems to never end.
CUT
TO:
ON
T.V.: EXT. A SOAP OPERA SCENE - DAY
MAX
(40 years old, hair over-gelled) and SARAH (35 years old, big hair)
are embracing on a balcony.
MAX
(making
goo-goo eyes at Sarah)
Sarah!
Sarah! Where's the love!?
SARAH
(all
mushy)
It's
here Max! Here! All my unconditional love! Take it! Unconditionally!
Take it!
MAX
Sarah,
love me! Me! Me! Me!
SARAH
Oh
Maximillian! Love me!
STATIC
momentarily flashes on the screen. Max and Sarah are replaced by
a GUY WITH A TEN-POUND CHIN and a microphone. Early warning sirens
are BLARING in the b.g.
GUY
WITH TEN-POUND CHIN
Attention
Citizens! It has just been reported that an amphibian of
severely jumbo proportions has just arisen from the Hoh
National Forest, and is now on a rampage, gobbling up campers
and tourists like hotcakes! Already, this strange and murderous
beast is responsible for at least 19 reported deaths. So
let's go live to our Eye in the Sky, just southwest of Port
Angeles Washington...
CUT
TO:
ON
T.V.: EXT. A HIGHWAY STREWN WITH WRECKED CARS - DAY
From
above, a MOB of school children in Catholic school uniforms can
be seen running on the highway, SCREAMING in terror and flailing
their lunchboxes in the air. Some children fall down, only to be
trampled by their peers. CROSSING GUARDS with orange flags and orange
vests lead the pack.
CUT
TO:
ON
T.V.: EXT. THE RAINFOREST (SPFX) - DAY
The
mud-puppy is rising above the trees, rearing back on its hind legs,
waggling its bubble-eyes at the heavens. The mud-puppy ROARS like
hell.
CUT
TO:
INT.
A TAVERN - DAY
CAL
CLALLAM (A long-haired Hoh Indian, 34 years old) is watching t.v.
with a few local REDNECKS. The mud-puppy can still be heard ROARING
on the tube.
The
rednecks twist away and hide their eyes, unable to watch the massacre
of children. Cal, however, stares solemnly at the screen, seemingly
indifferent.
FIRST
REDNECK
Them
poor little kids! Them poor poor... poor little kids!
SECOND
REDNECK
It's
a tragedy! A horrible, awful... tragedy... a tragedy that's...
horrible and awful!
THIRD
REDNECK
What
the ding-dang heck is it? Where'd it come from?
GUY
WITH TEN-POUND CHIN (V.O.)
It's
a mud-puppy folks, otherwise known as a waterdog... or a
salamander in its larval state... and folks, it's hungry!
SECOND
REDNECK
Yeah,
but where in tarnation did it come from?
GUY
WITH TEN-POUND CHIN (V.O.)
Nobody
knows!
THIRD
REDNECK
Yeah,
but how'd it get so honking big?
GUY
WITH TEN-POUND CHIN (V.O.)
Nobody
knows!
FIRST
REDNECK
Well,
can it be stopped?
GUY
WITH TEN-POUND CHIN (V.O.)
Damned
if I know! Let's ask the expert --
CAL
CLALLAM
Cal
stares emotionlessly into his beer. He speaks slowly, pronouncing
every single syllable with respect.
CAL
(whispering
...Waka...
waka... waka... wakesh...
TWO
SHOT/CAL AND FIRST REDNECK
The
redneck is focused on Cal.
FIRST
REDNECK
(to
Cal)
What's
that Cal? Waka-waka-wakesh?
CAL
No.
Waka-waka-WAKA-wakesh...
They
both look up at the t.v.
CAL'S
POV: ON T.V.: INT. A SALAMANDER LAB - DAY
FERN
THOREAU (30 years old, sexy) is peering into a microscope. Her hair
is in a bun, she's wearing glasses, and the lab coat of a scientist.
There are aquariums full of salamanders behind her.
The
Guy with the Ten-Pound Chin suddenly enters the frame with his microphone.
GUY
WITH CHIN
(speaking
like Geraldo Rivera,
spectacularizing
the details)
Fern
Thoreau!... Regional Biologist!... Doctor of Amphibious
Species!... Mud-puppy Authority!... Salamander Extraordinaire!...
the Woman... in the know!... How... exactly... could...
a mere mud-puppy... reach... such mongo proportions? The
people of Washington State... and the world!... want...
to know!
He
thrusts the microphone in her face.
FERN
(with
a look of disgust)
How'd
you get in here Bozo?
GUY
WITH CHIN
Nuclear
waste?... Government conspiracy?... Alien DNA?... Cloning
gone awry? A mutant, a freak?... What?... How?... Why?...
Please... continue...
FERN
(irritated)
Look,
if you don't take a hike, I'm going to call Security...
GUY
WITH CHIN
(swiveling
toward camera)
There
you have it folks! Straight from the horse's mouth! Science
cannot explain... the hugeness of this apocalyptic pre-salamander!
Yes, the experts are stymied! Dumbstruck! Helpless! Is there
nothing we can do? Let's return to our Eye in the Sky...
CUT
TO:
HELICOPTER'S
POV: ON T.V.: THE MUD-PUPPY'S MEGA-MOUTH (SPFX) - DAY
The
camera is approaching its frog-looking orifice, which is wide open.
The helicopter flies into the mud-puppy's maw and disappears. There
is sudden darkness. STATIC on the screen.
CUT
TO:
INT.
THE TAVERN - DAY
The
rednecks shake their heads in despair. Cal just stares straight
ahead.
CUT
TO:
CAL'S
POV: ON T.V.: INT. THE SALAMANDER LAB AGAIN - DAY
Fern
Thoreau is staring at the Chin Guy in disbelief. Her hands are on
her hips and the Chin Guy is gesturing at the camera man to stop
taping.
CHIN
GUY
Cut!
Cut! Turn that thing off...
There
is technical difficulty. The camera moves erratically up and down,
turning on and off. For the most part, however, it remains on. The
Chin Guy, apparently, is under the impression that the camera is
entirely off.
CHIN
GUY
(aggressively)
Listen
missy... this is the news, see. This is show biz! What you
want, what you think... don't mean squat, okay!? If you're
an expert on little lizards that crawl around in the mud,
I don't really give a rat's ass! Cuz the truth is... you're
just an actress in a story you can't control. It's what's
happening, babe! Ratings! And that's the name of the game...
CUT
TO:
ON
T.V.: FERN'S FACE
She
takes off her glasses and gazes sternly back at the Chin Guy. She
doesn't say anything, though her penetrating glare and narrowed
brow seem to imply the sentiment "Go fuck yourself."
CUT
TO:
INT.
THE TAVERN/CAL'S FACE - DAY
Squinting
a bit, Cal nods slowly, as if in approval of Fern's silent but critical
regard of the media. His mouth rises slightly on one side, as if
he's about to crack a half-smile. But he doesn't. He goes back to
his stone-faced glare again.
DISSOLVE
TO:
CAL'S
FLASHBACK: INT. A WIGWAM - NIGHT
Cal,
now an 8 year old boy, is sitting by the fire with his GRANDFATHER
(112 years old, wearing beads, and wrapped in an Indian blanket).
The older man is smoking a cig.
CAL
(excited)
Grandfather...
why can't we have a television like a regular family?
GRANDFATHER
Because,
Cal... we don't have electricity...
CAL
But
Grandfather... why can't we have electricity? It isn't cool
to not have television. All the other kids get television...
GRANDFATHER
Listen
Grandson... the pictures in your head are better than the
pictures on television...
CAL
Because
there ain't no commercials in your head?
GRANDFATHER
Not
so. There are commercials in your head. Our ancestors, however,
called them "morals."
CAL
You
mean... like... don't count your chickens before they hatch?
GRANDFATHER
Well,
basically... yes. That's what sold back then. Take the story
of Waka-waka-waka-wakesh for example...
CAL
Waka-waka-wakesh?
GRANDFATHER
No.
Waka-waka-WAKA-wakesh.
CAL
(smiling)
Okay!
GRANDFATHER
A
long long time ago... when my grandfather's grandfather
was just about your age... there walked a creature in this
land...
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
AN OLD-GROWTH STAND OF RAINFOREST CONIFERS (SPFX) - DAWN
A gigantic
mud-puppy (the same mud-puppy as before) is emerging from the mist,
coming toward the camera. A stereotypical Native-American CHANT
(accompanied by stereotypical Native-American DRUMMING) can be heard
in the b.g., behind the V.O. of Cal's Grandfather.
GRANDFATHER
(V.O.)
This
creature was Waka-waka-waka-Wakesh... the totem of our people...
whom, for many generations, we lived in peace with...
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
A TOTEM POLE - DAWN
There
is a mud-puppy head carved at the top.
PEOPLE
OF THE TRIBE (O.S.)
(chanting
together)
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
EXT.
A WIGWAM VILLAGE - DAWN
The
PEOPLE OF THE TRIBE are gathered around the totem pole. They are
CHANTING and DRUMMING.
PEOPLE
OF THE TRIBE
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
Waka-waka-waka-wakesh!...
GRANDFATHER
(V.O.)
And
so we honored this mud-puppy. For there were stories attached
to Waka-waka-waka-wakesh that were as old as the rainforest
itself...
(A
pause.)
And
now Grandson, I will pass on to you the story that my grandfather's
grandfather passed down to him...
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
THE WIGWAM AGAIN - NIGHT
There
is now ANOTHER GRANDFATHER and ANOTHER INDIAN BOY sitting by the
fire. They are played by the same Grandfather and the same Cal as
before. This time, however, they are dressed in "traditional Indian
dress" (feathers, loincloths, etc.). The Grandfather is smoking
a peace pipe.
GRANDFATHER
(shaking
his finger at the kid, speaking with the accent of a New
York Jew)
Listen,
listen, listen kid... cuz I'm gonna give ya the whole schtick,
and nothing but the schtick, got it? Okay? Okay. So... we've
got this very large mud-puppy right? Right. Okay. So...
what's it all about you're no doubt asking yourself, eh?
Huh? Huh? Right. Well... I'll tell ya. It's like this, okay?...
pretty soon... whitey's gonna come to town, see? Got me?
Okay. And when this happens, there's gonna be t.v., alright?
And then... that's when everything goes to pot! Ya with
me? But not just because of t.v., but moreso due to all
that we are destined to forget... when the priorities of
our stories are replaced by commercials... that try to sell
us gadgets and goo rather than values... if ya know what
I mean. See what I mean? Eh? My main point being: this whole
shmeal is gonna get messed up big-time! And when this happens...
when the land and sea and sky start to go down... when Nature
is beyond repair... that's when Waka-waka-waka-wakesh will
arise again --
BOY
(excited)
And
kick some butt!?
GRANDFATHER
(placing
palm to forehead)
Oi
Vay!
DISSOLVE
TO:
BACK
TO ORIGINAL FLASHBACK: CAL & GRANDFATHER IN WIGWAM - NIGHT
CAL
(in
awe)
Wow
Grandfather! That's a bitchin' story. You're right! T.V.
sucks. Myth is where the action's at!
The
Grandfather blows a smoke ring with his cig. Cal watches it.
CAL'S
POV: THE SMOKE RING
It
rises and turns, dissipating slowly.
DISSOLVE
TO:
CAL'S
POV: ANOTHER SMOKE RING
This
smoke ring is doing the same thing.
INT.
THE TAVERN - DAY
The
redneck next to Cal is blowing smoke rings. Cal comes out of his
revery and continues to watch t.v.
CAL'S
POV: ON T.V.: EXT. A PARKING LOT (SPFX) - DAY
The
mud-puppy is rearing back on its haunches, shaking a tour bus labeled
"TACOMA CONVALESCENTS." OLD PEOPLE are spilling out onto the asphalt
like beans.
TEN-POUND
CHIN (V.O.)
...Authorities,
of course, are worried that the raging path of this amock
monster will lead toward one of our urban centers... specifically
Seattle. Even though mud-puppies are virtually blind, they
are attracted to heat and movement...
CUT
TO:
ON
T.V.: EXT. ON THE PAVEMENT - DAY
An
OLD MAN (drenched completely in blood) kneels above an OLD WOMAN,
who is apparently dead. There is a fountain of blood spurting from
her neck. It won't stop spewing.
OLD
MAN
(crying
out with all the unconvincingness of a bad actor in a fakey
movie)
Mildred!
Oh Mildred! MILLLLLLLLL-DRED!!
TEN-POUND
CHIN (V.O.)
...
The horror is spectacular, the damage is beyond estimation.
Local Law Enforcement, however, assures us that this menace
can be stopped...
CUT
TO:
EXT./INT.
THROUGH WINDSHIELD OF SHERIFF'S CAR - DAY
Sheriff
Frick and Deputy Emmet are parked at McDonald's (the golden arches
can be seen behind them). They are eating french fries. On the dashboard,
there are four hamburgers.
FRICK
(pointing
at each individual hamburger)
The
Fat-mac... the Mega-mac... the Super-mac... and the Ultra-mac.
What's the difference?
EMMET
Didn't
we get any ketchup?
FRICK
Ketchup
my butt! Where are the tomatoes?
EMMET
Tomatoes?
FRICK
(lifting
the top bun on each burger)
Yes.
Don't they have tomatoes anymore? Or... for that matter...
did they ever have tomatoes?
EMMET
Who
wants tomatoes? I want ketchup.
Continued
|
