The Evil of Shady Lake is a radio play I wrote, produced and directed for Deadbeats On The Air, the radio play troupe I founded in 2008.



The Evil of Shady Lake got its broadcast premier in the Twin Cities, July 2009 and has since been rebroadcast.
The Evil at Shadylake
REVISION
Audio Play by Britt Aamodt
 
 
SCENE 1
 
HENRY (narrating):
Mr. Valenzuela is a self-made man, which you can tell by the
"Mr." at the beginning of his name. He's never given me another name,
though I've been in his employ—"Feeding off the host," as Mr.
Valenzuela likes to say—for nine months now.
 
I wouldn't feed off that crass, overbearing, uptight,
greedy, insensitive, overrated, undersized wretch if you paid me all the money
in the world—I mean if I didn't have two kids, a wife out of work, and a street
address suspiciously similar to my in-laws'.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (hollering upstairs):
Hen-RY!
 
HENRY (hollering downstairs):
Yes, Ma!
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (hollering):
What'd you do with MY vacuum cleaner?
 
HENRY (hollering):
I put it in the vacuum cleaner closet, Ma.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (hollering):
It's not IN the vacuum cleaner closet, Henry. It's outside
the vacuum cleaner closet.
 
HENRY (hollering):
Okay, the vacuum's outside the vacuum cleaner closet, Ma.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (hollering):
Ma? It's Fred Withers who should be calling me Ma. I always
told Margot she shoulda married Fred Withers. She'd be living in a
6,000-square-foot mansion if she had, and not in some nasty attic!
 
HENRY (hollering):
It's not the attic that's nasty, Ma; it's the landlords.
 
HENRY (narrating):
In fact, my address is my in-laws' address. Margot, our two
girls and I squat in the attic of their 3,000-square-foot "storage
facility"; the attic was the only space left in their house, given my
mother-in-law's devotion to the shopping channel.
 
TV HOST:
You too can own this genuine reproduction Queen Isabella of
Spain emerald dog pendant. (fade out) And now only $49.99. That's right, $49.99
for this queenly dog pendant…
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (excited intake of breath):
Did you hear that? $49.99. Margot, you just know that would
go so well with my imitation Zelda Fitzgerald flapper fur made out of 100
percent recycled tires.
 
MARGOT:
Ma, that's totally you. You got to get it.
 
HENRY (undertone):
Margot, your mother doesn't need encouragement.
 
MARGOT:
Don't be a stick in the mud, Henry. Mother likes to buy
things.
 
HENRY:
I know. Like the flame-resistant teakwood back scratcher, and the Elvis Presley
singing towel rack.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Shhh, you two! He's about to give the number.
 
TV HOST (fade in):
Again, only $49.99 for Queen Isabella's charming dog
pendant. But act fast. Supplies are limited. Call the number at the bottom of
the screen, (fade out) or for super-speedy service, logon to our website at
www.SpendMoneyNow.com.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (excited):
Where's the phone? What did—Henry, what did you do with MY
phone?
 
HENRY:
Me-ee? You won't let me near your phone.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
That, for your information, is a priceless glow-in-the-dark
Osama Bin Laden action figure phone. Seven movable parts, and the turban is
replaceable with a top hat.
 
HENRY:
Maybe it's in Afghanistan.
 
SFX: RUSTLING NOISE, CANS THROWN
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (cont'd):
It should be right here…right…What?
 
SFX: CRINKLE OF PLASTIC CHIPS BAG
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (cont'd):
My phone. What's my phone doing in the corn chips bag,
HENRY?
 
HENRY:
Don't ask me.
 
MARGOT (helpfully, rapidly):
I know, I know, I bet it was that segment on Entertainment
Tonight—Spot the Hottest Tush in Hollywood? You know, quick snapshots of Colin
Farrell, George Clooney and Will Smith cavorting on the beach? (losing it,
breathless) Well, I started to hyperventilate and I grabbed the corn chips bag
and I—
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (breaking in):
I know what's going on here. And don't try to protect him,
Margot. HENRY was going sell my phone. Weren't you, Henry? Sell it to one of
your dealer friends.
 
HENRY:
See, that's where you're wrong. I don't HAVE any friends.
 
 
 
HENRY (narrating):
How I ended up in my in-laws' attic, and in Mr. Valenzuela's
employ, started with a house. Margot and me, well, we kinda got wrapped up in
the sub-prime mortgage fiasco. You know, two crazy people with not enough money
to buy a house buying a house anyway? Well, that was us. One moment we were
home sweet home, the next we were home sweet out-of-a-home.
 
Then Margot lost her job at the toy factory. (SFX: SQUEAKY
TOY) The factory and the jobs shipped overseas to someplace called
Kazikastoplestan (SFX: SOMEONE JABBERING IN FOREIGN
LANGUAGE), where they use donkeys (SFX: DONKEY BRAY) to power the machinery
(SFX: WHIP LASH, SOMEONE OFF MIKE CALLS "YAH!") and factory workers
get paid by the turnip bushel.
 
So with losing the house and Margot losing her job, that's
kinda how I ended up working for Mr. Valenzuela, who I call Mr. V.
 
(fade out) I was in the break room at Super Cheapo Shopping
Warehouse where I worked in Hardware when Teensie, from Grocery, threw a folded
newspaper across the table.
 
SFX: NEWSPAPER SLOPS IN SOUP
 
HENRY:
Aw, jeez, Teense, you got the paper in my soup.
 
TEENSIE (gruff, untutored voice; disgusted):
What kinda glop is that you're eating?
 
HENRY (dejected):
I don't know. Something my mother-in-law made. I think it's
concrete.
 
TEENSIE:
Hey, so check out that newspaper ad. The one I circled.
 
HENRY (grossed out):
Great. Lumpy wet newspaper…
 
SFX: RUSTLING NEWSPAPER
 
TEENSIE:
Don't you just think it's a riot?
 
HENRY:
Give me a minute—Where…oh, I see the ad. (reading)
"WANTED: Hardworking adult, low IQ not a problem. Familiarity with firearms
a plus. Unafraid to…die? Pay not revertible to next of kin?"
 
TEENSIE:
What'd I say, huh? What kinda dumbbell would apply for that?
 
HENRY:
Yeah, areal numbskull…
 
TEENSIE:
Like I was telling Hilda, that crippled chick in Soft Goods?
Kinda drags her foot and the left eye's all, you know, saggy.
 
HENRY:
She's eighty-four years old.
 
TEENSIE (not paying attention):
I said, (shouting) "Hilda!"—You got to talk loud
or she can't hear—I said, (shouting) "Hilda, we got it pretty good here at
Super Cheapo, dontcha think? Our own lockers, discounts on cigarettes. They'll
even give us health insurance if they forget and schedule us 36 hours."
I've had health insurance three weeks so far this year. Management was wicked
mad…Crappers!
 
HENRY:
What?
 
TEENSIE:
Break's almost up.
 
SFX: CHAIR LEG SCRAPING
 
TEENSIE (cont'd):
So…wanna go out back for a joint?
 
HENRY:
Nah, I got a random drug test next week.
 
TEENSIE:
Yeah, just had mine. Party on! All right, so, remember the
meat raffle Friday, 'kay? Dick's Main Tap. All of us getting together to
celebrate Edna's promotion to Senior Shelf Stocker.
 
HENRY:
I can shoplift the Twinkies from Grocery. Anything else?
 
TEENSIE (fade out):
Nah. I snagged the Coke and Diet Sprite when surveillance
was down yesterday.
 
HENRY:
Okay. See ya.
 
SFX: DOOR CLOSES
 
HENRY (cont'd):
Where's that number?
 
SFX: DIALING SEVEN NUMBERS ON CELL PHONE; PHONE RINGS
 
MR. V (phone, grouchy):
Yes?
 
HENRY (uncertain):
Uh, hi, is this the person I call about the ad?
 
MR. V:
Ad? Who is this? (rapidly) Listen, I don't want your
satellite TV. I don't want your 500-plus cable stations. I don’t want my
windshield replaced or my gutters cleaned or my neighbor whacked by that fat
mob guy on HBO. I'm doing fine, thank you, without your survey on the latest political
scandal involving nude coeds, tax evasion and someone with the last name
Kennedy. I've got news for you: They're politicians. In fact, I happen to be a
member of a very select list. The DO NOT CALL list. But perhaps the memo hasn't
reached your call center in Mumbai.
 
HENRY:
Uh, actually, this is an ad you placed.
 
MR. V:
Oh. (a beat, seductive) Is this a caller
for…1-900-Meee-owwwww?
 
HENRY (confused):
(a beat) The ad in the Swanville Paper? "…unafraid to
die"?
 
MR. V (realizing):
THAT ad. (a beat) Yes, of course, that ad.
 
HENRY:
I was wondering if the job was still open.
 
MR. V:
Loads of callers. Loads….but I'm listening.
 
HENRY:
Yeah, that part about "unafraid to die"?
 
MR. V:
It's pretty simple…
 
HENRY:
Henry.
 
MR. V:
Yes, Henry. It's like this: I tell you what to do, when to
do it, and if you end up in the trash, that's your business.
 
HENRY:
Oh, like taking out the trash.
 
MR. V (overlapping):
No, like you in the trash because someone put you there. In
pieces.
 
HENRY (a beat as he considers):
How much does it pay?
 
MR. V:
Three thousand a week.
 
***
 




SCENE 2
 
MUSIC: COUNTRY TWANG/ON THE ROAD MUSIC, UP AND DOWN BEHIND
NARRATION
 
HENRY: That's the long and short of how I ended up a
three-thousand-a-week chump for Valenzuela Properties, LLC, the firm started by
Mr. V with financial backing from several shady unnamed partners.
 
Mr. V buys foreclosed properties no one else wants. (a beat)
Sometimes the people being foreclosed on don't want to leave. That's where I
come in….
 
SFX: CAR MOTOR
 
MR. V:
Got the mace?
 
HENRY:
Check.
 
MR. V:
Numchucks?
 
HENRY:
Uh…yeah, in the glove compartment.
 
MR. V:
Guess we're set. Chicken feed, Henry. Family of four. The
Jollys, Mildred and Myron Jolly of Shadylake Estates and two kiddies. According
to this bank note, foreclosed on three months ago.
 
HENRY:
Three months and the police haven't brought in the attack
dogs?
 
MR. V (deadpan):
Actually, the police did go in. But no one ever heard from
them again. Hold on, hold on. Don't drive so fast.
 
HENRY:
What?
 
MR. V:
I think that's our turnoff. What's the sign say?
 
HENRY (reading):
"Welcome to Hollow, where hospitality meets the simple
way of life. Population 860"…Jeez, what happened? Buildings all boarded
up. No cars. Where is everyone?
 
MR. V:
Who knows? Probably the day they sacrifice virgins to the
forest deity. (beat) Now that I recall: I did read something about groundwater
pollution in Hollow. Runoff from the local mill. Using nuclear waste to
flash-cure the timber or something. (dismissive) Probably just a rumor.
 
HENRY:
I don't know, Mr. V. Are you sure you want to buy this
place?
 
MR. V (devilishly excited):
Henry, can I tell you a secret? My partners and I—hold on to
your panties—are going to buy this entire town.
 
HENRY:
Hollow, the town with a half-life of a million years?
 
MR. V:
Turn it into an amusement park: Valenzuelaland. Has a ring,
don't you think?
 
HENRY:
Yeah, like Alcatraz. We're three hours from nowhere.
 
MR. V:
The plans are already drawn. A water flume, interpretive
trails, sawmill derbies, everyone dressed in lumberjack outfits—lower cut for
the ladies, to give us that AIR of woodsy sex appeal. (alerted) Hold on!
 
HENRY (bored):
--to my panties, I know.
 
MR. V:
No, that gas station. Did you see someone in the window? I
thought—yes, there he is again. Turn in.
 
SFX: GAS STATION BELL, ENGINE OFF, TWO CAR DOORS OPEN AND
CLOSE
 
HENRY:
Curry's Gas 'n' Go? We just filled up an hour ago.
 
MR. V:
I need directions to the Jolly house.
 
HENRY:
You said you got directions already.
 
MR. V:
Yes, from a Neanderthal: (imitating caveman talk) "Take
a left at big forest, house big like mountain, can't miss."
 
SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL
 
MR. V (cont'd):
We'll just get a little clarification from the station
manager. Show him the…
 
HENRY:
The map. Here ya go.
 
SFX: DOOR CHIME
 
MR. V:
Thanks, Henry. You just let me handle this, okay? (as if
announcing the king) Mr. Station Manager? Your prayers have been answered, a
customer has walked through the door and requires your help…Mr. Curry?
(silence) Hmph.
 
HENRY:
Maybe that's not his name.
 
MR. V (stern):
Whoever you are, I know you're hiding under the counter. I
can see the plaid of your flannel boxer shorts.
 
CURRY (off mike):
I don't want ya! Go away.
 
HENRY (shocked):
Oh my god. He's—is he under the counter?
 
MR. V:
How very sweet. And, yes, now that you ask, I would like
directions to the property at—
 
CURRY (off mike, overlapping):
I know what ya are, bloodsucking beast!
 
HENRY (under his breath):
Someone must've told him you were coming.
 
CURRY (off mike):
Rip my heart out and eat it. That's what you think. Well, I
got a rifle here says you ain't gonna do it!
 
MR. V (steady):
--directions to the property at Shadylake Estates. I've
brought a map. All you have to do is point.
 
SFX: SHAKE OPEN MAP; MR. CURRY SCUFFLING AROUND ON FLOOR
 
CURRY (off mike, uncertain): You don't sound like no fiends.
 
MR. V:
Only on Thursdays. Fridays we rise from the flames and take
on human form. (down to business) Shadylake Estates, Mr. Curry.
 
CURRY (off mike):
All right…I'm coming up in three seconds. But I got my
rifle!
 
MR. V:
We're looking forward to it. (undertone, to Henry) What did
I say about the drinking water, Henry?
 
HENRY:
Maybe we should leave.
 
CURRY (off mike, but fading in):
One…two…
 
MR. V:
This place could use a dusting.
 
CURRY (on mike):
Three! Ahhhhh!
 
HENRY (overlapping):
Ahhhhh!
 
MR. V (beat):
Hi. Just me. The fiend, remember?
 
CURRY (suspicious):
Whaddya want with Shadylake Estates?
 
MR. V:
Oh, you know, the annual slumber party with the Jollys.
Mildred and Myron, maybe you know them? Champion curlers. Blue ribbon in the
chili cook-off? Uh, maybe you could put down that rifle, Mr. Curry.
 
CURRY:
Who's asking?
 
MR. V (as to a slow learner):
My name is Mr. Valenzuela and this is my associate Henry.
Say hello, Henry.
 
HENRY (nervous):
Hey.
 
CURRY:
Huh!
 
MR. V:
We're here to investigate the Shadylake property for
investment purposes.
 
CURRY:
Huh!
 
MR. V (continuous):
I'm not one to gossip, but, the Jollys sniffed the mortgage
up their noses, if you know what I mean, and now the property is foreclosed.
Britney Spears lifestyle on a Laura Ingalls budget. See it all the time.
 
CURRY:
Huh!
 
MR. V:
So, Mr. Curry, if you could just point your trigger finger
at our map, here, we'll be out of your long, stringy hair forever.
 
CURRY:
You ain't going there. No one goes there and comes
back…alive.
 
HENRY:
Alive? Mr. V, did you hear that?
 
MR. V:
I see. I see how it is. The Jollys friends of yours? You
know, if you don't tell me where they live, I'm sure somebody else—
 
CURRY:
Somebody else? There's ain't nobody else. They're dead. All
of em, dead. Mayor. Kids at school. Even that dimwit sat on the porch, asked
yer name every gol'darn time he saw ya: (singsong) "What's yer name?
What's yer name?" He's dead too. And my poor dog. Did what with 'im, I
don't care to ask, those…those demons living at Shadylake.
 
MR. V:
Right, the Jollys of 3220 Shadylake Estates. I have the
foreclosure notice right here somewhere. In my jacket or some—
 
CURRY:
Don't move! Don't move a muscle.
 
HENRY:
Hey, watch where you're pointing
that thing.
 
CURRY:
If you're smart—(menacing) and you don't look all that smart
to me—you'll right walk out that door and keep a going. And don't ever say that
name again.
 
HENRY:
What, Shadylake?
 
CURRY:
You said it. You said it again! I told ya not to say it and
ya said it again. You…you…
 
MR. V:
Calm down, Mr. Curry.
 
CURRY:
I ain't talking to you, am I? I ain't even sure I'm here.
Maybe it's someone else talking. Maybe I'm stuck in hell or someplace, in North
Dakota! Get so jumpy sometimes, I want to shoot the first thing that moves,
know what I mean?
 
MR. V:
I do indeed, yes, and look at the time. Five p.m., Henry,
don't you think it's time we get a move on?
 
HENRY:
Sure thing, Mr. V. You want me to get this map?
 
SFX: CRUMPLE PAPER
 
MR. CURRY (to himself, delirious):
And sometimes at night, I get these dreams. Little green
men, come here asking for TV dinners…
 
MR. V:
(to Henry) Henry, start backing to the door. (louder) Thank
you so much, Mr. Curry. This has been really…Well, anyway, happy shooting.
 
CURRY (fading out, as V and Henry move away):
You ain't going to that house, are ya?
 
MR. V:
The house? Never. Cross my heart and hope to die.
 
SFX: DOOR CHIME
 
CURRY (off mike):
I warned ya. No one leaves Shadylake alive!
 
SFX: DOOR SLAM
 
MR. V (to Henry):
That, Henry, is what happens when you breed with your
relatives. Guess we'll have to find Shadylake on our own.
 
HENRY:
Are you serious? He said people die out there. I've got a
wife, two kids…
 
MR. V:
And your in-laws. Think about it, Henry, a few more months
working for me, and you'll be able to afford that house your wife has your eye
on.
 
***
 
 




SCENE 3
 
MUSIC
 
SFX: CAR MOTOR, VOICES ECHOY INTERIOR OF CAR
 
HENRY (fade in):
I don't know about this, Mr. V. We've been driving for three
hours. I mean it's almost eight o'clock. Maybe should call it a day.
 
MR. V:
Trust me, Henry. THIS is the driveway.
 
HENRY:
You said that 15 driveways ago.
 
MR. V:
Yes, but this is the only driveway in Hollow we haven't gone
down.
 
HENRY (beat, sound of motor):
Look at all these trees. All dark and creepy, don’t ya
think? Like Friday the 13th creepy. Like any minute some guy in a hockey mask
is gonna—
 
MR. V:
A-ha!
 
HENRY:
What! What did you see?
 
MR. V:
There's the house. Didn't I tell you, Henry? Just beyond the
headlights.
 
HENRY:
Oh, yeah…
 
MR. V:
3220 Shadylake Estates!
 
HENRY(beat, to give time for them to come into clearing):
This is it? We drove all the way out here for this?
 
MR. V:
Isn't she a beaut?
 
HENRY:
The shutters are hanging off.
 
MR. V:
Look they even lit the front porch for us. I wonder if Mr.
Curry called ahead. That could be good or bad, depending.
 
HENRY:
Bad.
 
MR. V:
Just park next to that pile.
 
HENRY:
Pile?...
 
MR. V:
Just there on the left. That pile of…
 
HENRY:
Oh, yeah…What is that? Is that…?
 
MR. V (cont'd):
…bones or whatever.
 
SFX: CAR ENGINE OFF.
 
HENRY (frantic):
Bones! Those are human bones, Mr. V. I knew it, I knew it.
 
MR. V:
Henry, calm yourself. Do you really think a family of mass
murderers resides at Shadylake Estates?
 
HENRY:
Yes.
 
MR. V:
I mean look at those charming gables, the lovely gingerbread
trim, and that…that interesting door knocker.
 
HENRY:
Door knocker? (considers) That's an axe. The Jollys probably
put it there for easy access when visitors come calling.
 
MR. V (chuckling):
Silly. Do you ever listen to yourself? Axe murderers, bones…
 
HENRY:
Well, what are those bones then? Huh?
 
MR. V (almost singing):
Hello! Earth to Henry—we're in the heart of Redneck, USA.
What do you think these people do out here in the woods all day? They hunt.
They listen to country music, and they hunt. That's what rednecks do.
 
HENRY:
Those are animal bones?
 
MR. V:
Of course, they're animal bones. Deer and bear and squirrel…
 
HENRY:
That deer looks like my aunt Martha.
 
MR. V:
In fact, I know a thing or two about the Jollys. Not to
gossip, I hate even the glint of it, but word on the street is,
(conspiratorially) the Jollys built a still on the lake. The moon shines every
night at the Jolly ranch.
 
HENRY:
There's a lake?
 
MR. V:
Shady Lake. Just through the woods there, fed indirectly by
the same river that powers the lumber mill.
 
HENRY:
Wait, you mean the mill with the nuclear waste problem?
 
MR. V:
Rumors, my dear Henry. Rumors. And we don’t put stock in
rumors. But, as a precaution, I wouldn't accept Mrs. Jolly's lemonade.
(business-like) All right, well, off you go.
 
HENRY:
Why are you scooching over?
 
MR. V:
To neck, Henry. This is all a set up. Starlight, parked car,
romantic setting—Henry, will you marry me?
 
SFX: TWO DOGS HOWLING
 
HENRY:
I'm not going in that house alone.
 
MR. V:
Three thousand dollars says you will.
 
HENRY:
Well, what are you going to do?
 
MR. V:
I am going to sit in the driver's seat, here. Cmon, get out.
 
SFX: CAR DOOR CLICKS OPEN, CRICKET NOISE (continues under
and throughout next sequence until enters house)
 
MR. V (cont'd):
And make sure no one borrows the car. Oh, and watch out for
the—
 
SFX: HENRY TUMBLING IN BONES
 
MR. V (cont'd):
--bone pile.
 
HENRY (standing outside, outside atmospherics):
Thanks.
 
SFX: MORE CLATTER OF BONES AS HE PICKS HIMSELF UP.
 
MR. V:
Wait a second. (fade out, slightly as leans over) Let me get
your--
 
SFX: OPENING AND CLOSING GLOVE COMPARTMENT
 
MR. V:
(fade in)--numchucks from the glove compartment.
 
HENRY:
Brilliant. Do I give Mrs. Jolly the numchucks before or
after the lemonade?
 
MR. V:
How about the mace?
 
HENRY (impatient):
Still in my pocket. Can I go?
 
MR. V:
Remember, Henry, these people are probably upset about the
foreclosure, want to stick it to the man. But we're above all that. We're here
to examine the property, and boot the Jollys out of house and home. We've done
it a hundred times before.
 
HENRY
I'VE done it a hundred times before.
 
MR. V (off mike, interior of car):
Good luck. I'll be here in the driver's seat…in case we need
a quick getaway.
 
SFX: FOOTSTEPS OVER GRAVEL
 
HENRY (mumbling):
Three thousand dollars a week…Maybe I like living in my
in-laws' attic. Keeps me humble. He could learn a thing or two about humility,
Mr. I'll-stay-in-the-car.
 
MR. V (off mike, yelling from car window):
Don't drink the water, Henry.
 
HENRY (mumbling):
These steps are all broken up.
 
SFX: FOOTFALLS ON WOODEN STEPS
 
HENRY (cont'd):
Looks like the termites have—(beat) no, that's definitely an
axe mark. Is that…
 
SFX: FOOTFALLS PAUSE
 
HENRY (cont'd):
(beat) …blood?
 
MR. V (off mike, yelling from car window): 
What's the hold up?
 
HENRY:
Get a hold of yourself, Henry. The Jollys are redneck
hunters with a moonshine problem. Of course, there'd be a little spillage of…of
blood on the porch.
 
SFX: FOOTFALLS RESUME, STOP (as he comes to door)
 
HENRY:
Okay, mace in this pocket. Numchucks in the other.
 
MR. V (off mike, hollering):
For god's sake, knock on the door already.
 
HENRY:
We'll just use this axe doorknocker….(beat) not a
doorknocker. Okay. (clears throat)
 
SFX: RAPPING ON DOOR
 
HENRY (clearing throat):
H-h-hello?
 
SFX: BARKS, YOWLS, CLAWS SCRAPING AT INSIDE OF DOOR; HENRY'S
FOOTFALLS FAST IN OTHER DIRECTION, THUNDERING DOWN STAIRS
 
HENRY (voice shaky from running; overlapping with rapid
footfalls, clawing and barking):
Wrong address, Mr. V. No one's home.
 
SFX (overlapping with "wrong address"): DOGS
SILENCED. DOOR CREAKING OPEN.
 
MR. JOLLY (creepy monotone):
Welcome…
 
HENRY (to himself):
That doesn't sound good.
 
SFX: CAR DOOR OPEN, SHUT; FEET WALKING HURRIEDLY OVER GRAVEL
 
MR. V (fade in; brightly, like salesman):
Hello, hello, hello, you must be Mr. Jolly? (to Henry)
Henry, the house is in the OTHER direction. Turn and face the man. You're being
rude.
 
HENRY:
I don't feel good about this, Mr. V. I really don't.
 
SFX: FEET RUNNING UP WOODEN PORCH STAIRS; SECOND SET OF FEET
MOVING MORE SLOWLY BEHIND
 
MR. V (fade in):
Mr. Jolly, sorry for the late hour.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Welcome….
 
MR. V:
My, aren't you tall?
 
MR. JOLLY:
Yes…
 
MR. V:
I am Mr. Valenzuela. The bank may have called you about me?
No? Well, anyway, I'm here to inspect your property for invest…
 
SFX: DOGS GROWLING
 
MR. V (cont'd):
Dogs…Nice, little, frolicky doggies. (scared noise as…)
 
SFX: DOGS BARK, TEETH SNAP
 
MR. JOLLY (stern):
Bane! Hemlock! Settle. You can have it later.
 
MR. V:
Almost lost my hand there.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Bane, Hemlock, up with you. Up to your beds.
 
SFX: DOGS SCAMPER AWAY
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
Bane and Hemlock, my daughters.
 
HENRY:
Daughters?
 
MR. V (hurriedly):
Yes, and aren't they cute. My grandmother always said a
little hair on the body is good for insulation.
 
HENRY (hissing under his breath):
They're running on all fours.
 
MR. V:
The water, Henry. The water. (to Mr. Jolly) So, Mr. Jolly,
may we…
 
MR. JOLLY:
Please, come in.
 
SFX: DOOR HINGE SCREECH
 
MR. V:
You first, Henry.
 
HENRY:
Uh, Mr. Jolly, are you sure your daughters won't—
 
MR. JOLLY:
They'll stay upstairs, until I call them. Please, enter.
 
SFX: DOOR SLAMS LOUDLY, VOICE ATMPOSPHERICS CHANGE TO
INDOORS
 
MR. JOLLY (off mike):
Follow me.
 
MR. V (to Henry):
Definitely a teardown job, Henry. Or an extensive remodel. I
can't believe this. Look at this. Hack marks in the banister. Crumbling
plaster.
 
HENRY:
Blood on the walls.
 
MR. V:
Now, if it were me, if I were the one getting foreclosed on,
I'd spruce the place up. You know why? Because it's a matter of integrity.
 
HENRY:
Don't trip on the skull, Mr. V.
 
MR. V:
Oh, yeah. Thanks.
 
SFX: KICKS SKULL, RICOCHETS DOWN HALL
 
MR. V (cont'd):
It's criminal what people do in a foreclosure. They figure
they can't have the house, well, no one else can either. Turn it to rack and
ruin.
 
MR. JOLLY (off mike):
This way. Follow me.
 
SFX: DOOR SWINGS OPEN, SLAPS SHUT
 
MR. JOLLY:
This is…the kitchen.
 
MR. V (under his breath):
Salmonella alley.
 
MRS. JOLLY (off mike, high diva voice):
What's this? What's this?
 
SFX: SMALL RAPID FOOTSTEPS
 
MR. JOLLY:
My wife, Mrs. Jolly.
 
MR. V:
Ah, the lovely, Mrs. Jolly.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Dinner? Myron, you louse, you never told me you were
bringing home dinner.
 
MR. JOLLY:
They just arrived.
 
MRS. JOLLY (cont'd, self-absorbed):
I mean I woulda plucked my eyebrows. Look at me! I'm
overdressed. I don’t have my leather apron, my gloves…Anybody seen a meat
cleaver lying around?
 
MR. V:
Right, well, while you discuss dinner arrangements, I think
I'm going to have a little look around. As I was telling your husband, Mrs.
Jolly, I represent the firm that's purchased Shadylake from the bank.
 
MRS. JOLLY (in one long breath):
Oh, this is no good. No good at all. Myron, can you see how
mad I am? Can you see it in my eyes? And where am I supposed to dress the
carcasses, huh? With your tools all over the garage. A person can't even move
out there. Two of them to, and David Letterman coming on in an hour.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Mama, you're being a nag.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
A nag? Oh, I'll show you a nag, when dinner's late all
because someone, I won't say who, lost my meat cleaver.
 
HENRY:
Yeah. Hey, Mr. V, I think I'll just head out to the car.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Car? You got car? Oh, Myron, you never said anything about a
car.
 
MR. V:
Yes, car, Mrs. Jolly, BROOOOMM—BROOOMM car. What you in the
country call a horse.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Now that's just perfect. Now that's just really great.
Myron, I hope I don't have to remind you what happened last time our dinner got
in a car and drove away…
 
MR. JOLLY (fade out):
I'll take care of it.
 
SFX: STOMPS OUT; DOOR SLAPS OPEN, CLOSED
 
MRS. JOLLY:
He's so forgetful in his old age. You two want a drink,
something to plump you up?
 
MR. V (beat):
Okay, well, this is getting a bit awkward, isn't it? I'm
going to just do my quick breeze through. Henry, you, uh, keep Mrs. Jolly
entertained.
 
HENRY:
Yeah, thanks, Mr. V. I'd love to.
 
MR. V:
Five minutes at the outside.
 
HENRY:
Make it four and I'll give you my first-born child.
 
SFX: DOOR SLAPS OPEN AND CLOSED
 
MRS. JOLLY (after uncomfortable silence):
Soooo…
 
HENRY:
So.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Have a seat?
 
SFX: CHAIR LEGS SCRAPING
 
HENRY:
In the chair with the manacles attached? No.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Okay. How about…
 
SFX: CHAIR LEGS SCRAPING
 
MRS. JOLLY (cont'd):
--this chair?
 
HENRY:
In front of the open window? So you can push me out?
 
MRS. JOLLY:
We're on the first floor.
 
HENRY:
Yeah, well, I'll just, uh, you know, stand here, by the
door…(rising menace) with my numchucks and pepper spray!
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Glass of water? Are you thirsty?
 
HENRY:
Actually, I am kinda—wait a second…
 
MRS. JOLLY (overlapping):
(fade out as move toward sink) Best water in the world, here
in Hollow.
 
HENRY (overlapping, recalling himself):
I heard about the water.
 
SFX: TAP TURNED ON, WATER IN GLASS
 
MRS. JOLLY (overlapping, fade in):
Piped straight from the lake. Here you are.
 
HENRY (beat, as considers):
Hm. Kind of glowing, isn't it?
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Glowing with health! I tell you, ever since the water
started to glow, Myron, the kids and I—we haven't been the same. (giddily)
Appetites like grizzly bears. RAAAARRRR! (chuckles) You know? I mean those
Atkins diet people had it right. Protein, that's what the body needs. Lots and
lots of fresh protein.
 
HENRY:
Wowee. I'm feeling a little…You know what? I think I'm going
to go and, uh, see what Mr. V's up to…(cut off by…)
 
SFX: DOOR SLAPS OPEN AND SHUT
 
MR. JOLLY:
Well, well, well, leaving so soon? Hoping you're not
planning to use--
 
SFX: SOMETHING THUDS ON TABLE
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
--the car.
 
HENRY (astonished):
Uh, what is that…that…
 
MR. JOLLY:
From your car.
 
HENRY:
That's what I thought. Tell me you didn't take that out of
our car.
 
MR. JOLLY:
I did.
 
HENRY:
Uh, Mr. Jolly, I'm pretty sure we're going to need that to
drive out of here.
 
MR. JOLLY:
So soon? The party's just warming up.
 
SFX: MR. JOLLY WHISTLES
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
Girls!
 
SFX: OVERHEAD DOGS POUNDING OVER FLOOR, THUMPING DOWNSTAIRS,
SCRABBLE THROUGH DOOR GROWLING AND PANTING
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
Ah, here they come…here they are, my lovelies. Bane,
Hemlock, good girls. You'll keep our itsy-bitsy dinner guest company, won't
you?
 
SFX: DOGS BARK IN ANSWER
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
And, Mama, you'll be so happy with me. Look what I found.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
My meat cleaver! Where'd you find my meat cleaver?
 
MR. JOLLY:
In the postman.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
The postman. Ah! How could I forget? And here I was blaming
you…
 
SFX: DOOR SLAPS OPEN
 
MR. V (huffing with anger):
Well, I have seen just about everything!
 
HENRY:
Mr. V! Thank god. Thank god. You won't believe these
people…the car…I mean you have no idea…
 
MR. V (overlapping, outraged):
Oh, Henry, yes I do. (to the couple) Mr. and Mrs. Jolly, you
win the award for the filthiest, most repellent, execrable, rat-infested,
gore-grimed, foul-smelling, besmirched and detesting household I have ever seen
IN MY LIFE. That's saying something too. Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm
going to walk right out this door and inject a tetanus booster in every part of
my body.
 
HENRY:
Walk is about right.
 
MR. V:
When I return, it will be with a wrecking ball and a waste
disposal crew--
 
SFX: DOGS GROWLING LOW
 
HENRY (trying to get his attention):
Yeah, Mr. V?
 
MR. V (cont'd):
--who will have specific orders to bring some very, very
large leak-proof bags. Do you know why, Mr. and Mrs. Jolly?
 
HENRY:
Mr. V.
 
MR. V:
To toss every one of you Jolly people in the lake with
cement blocks tied around your necks.
 
HENRY:
Mr. V, you're not listening.
 
MR. V:
Which is more than any of you deserve. (beat, deadpan) Why
are your dogs chewing on my leg?
 
MR. JOLLY:
My apologies. Bane! Hemlock! Back! Mustn't let our appetites
run away with us.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
He's a spicy one, this one. Let's barbecue him!
 
MR. JOLLY:
Mama, perhaps you can fetch me the rope?
 
MRS. JOLLY (fade out):
Oh, with pleasure. With pleasure. (singing in background) Tea for two, and two for tea, me and you and
you and me…(overlapping with…)
 
MR. V:
Henry, we're outta here. (to couple) Goodnight!
 
HENRY:
Actually, Mr. V, you might want take a look at this thing
Mr. Jolly brought in.
 
SFX: CLUNK OF SOMETHING METAL LIFTED OFF TABLE
 
MR. V (unimpressed):
It's a hunk of metal.
 
HENRY:
Right, from your car.
 
MR. JOLLY:
I helped myself.
 
MR. V (rising anger):
Let me think a moment…you helped yourself to my car? To a
piece of my car?
 
MR. JOLLY:
Didn't want you to…miss dinner.
 
MRS. JOLLY (fade in):
Got the rope, honey. This is gonna be good. Here, Myron,
take this end. We'll start on the saucy one. Maybe tomorrow, we can take a
family picnic by the lake…
 
HENRY:
Uh, Mr. V, what do you want me to do? They're tying you up.
You want me to give you—
 
MR. V:
Yes, Henry, the numchucks.
 
HENRY:
Here ya go.
 
MR. V:
Time to teach you folks a little table manners--
 
SFX: JANGLE OF CHAIN AND WOOD; DOGS BARKING AS MR. V SLAPS
THE NUMCHUCKS SEVERAL TIMES ON THE FLOOR, SHOUTING…
 
MR. V (cont'd):
Yah! Yah! Yah!
 
SFX: DOGS LOW WHIMPER OR FADE OUT
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Hey!
 
MR. V (cont'd):
And next time, I won't miss. Henry, grab the rope.
 
HENRY:
Already on it, Mr. V.
 
MRS. JOLLY (to her husband):
Myron, you can't just—why aren't you doing anything?
 
MR. JOLLY:
Typical…always my fault when the chips start to fall. Well,
I don't know, Mildred, you're the one with the meat cleaver.
 
MR. V (taking charge):
Okay, this is how it's going to be. Henry and I are going
upstairs to go nighty-night. You two Jolly old souls are going to stay down
here with your freak daughters.
 
SFX: DOG BARK
 
MR. V (cont'd):
But let me inform you, should you decide to tippty-toe
upstairs, Mrs. Jolly, with your meat cleaver—
 
MRS. JOLLY (overlapping):
And I know how to use it.
 
MR. V (overlapping):
--that I was in
the first airdrop over Baghdad. Who do you think slapped down Saddam's Imperial
guard?
 
HENRY:
He smacked them down hard too. Smack down Valenzuela.
 
MR. V:
Cmon, Henry. There's some cleaning to do if we're going to
spend the night in this trashcan.
 
SFX: DOOR SLAPS OPEN, CLOSED
 
MR. JOLLY:
Nice going with the meat cleaver, Mildred.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
And you were so good with the rope. Top of your game, with,
like, our first home delivery in weeks—in weeks!—slipping right through our
fingers.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Always blaming someone else. Myron this, Myron that. Guess self-responsibility
hasn't made it into your dictionary.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Because if you didn't have such a gynormous appetite—seriously, the whole town is depopulated, Myron.
 
MR. JOLLY (exasperated):
Like you don't overindulge?
 
MRS. JOLLY:
I mean it used to be so easy. Grab a drunk stumbling out of
the bar, or invite the ladies over for bible study. And BAM, there's your
dinner.
 
MR. JOLLY (wistfully):
Those were the days.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Now, you gotta go the next town over, and even there it's
slim pickings.
 
MR. JOLLY:
There's still that service station attendant.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Curry? Pffff! Guaranteed heartburn. Wouldn't touch him with
a bottle of Tabasco sauce.
 
MR. JOLLY (seductively):
I know what you'd like.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Oh, Myron, you know how you get.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Just one glass of water. Just one. C'mon, just a tiny…
 
MRS. JOLLY (fade out):
One! But if you start to do the "Chicken Dance"…
 
***
 
 
MUSIC
 
MR. V (fade in):
Did you try your cell phone?
 
HENRY:
No signal.
 
MR. V:
Same here. An absolutely essential piece of technology made
absolutely pointless by the lack of a signal. One more thing to add to the
Valenzuelaland package: a cell phone tower.
 
HENRY:
Hold on. You're not still planning to build here, are you?
 
SPX: DISTANT HOWL OF DOGS
 
MR. V:
You think the Jollys can scare me off? (makes dismissive
sound) Pfff…I've seen worse.
 
HENRY:
Mr. Jolly looks big enough.
 
MR. V:
I'm going to tell you story, Henry. Something I've never
told anyone. Come over here, sit next to me.
 
HENRY (disgusted):
Not on THAT bed.
 
MR. V:
Well, then pull up that toy chest or whatever it is.
 
SFX: FOOTSTEPS AWAY; DRAGGING CHEST OVER FLOOR
 
HENRY (fade in):
Ungh! This thing's heavy. Wonder what they got in here?
 
MR. V:
I already looked. You don't want to know.
 
HENRY:
(a beat as he sits down) Okay, I'm sitting.
 
MR. V:
Well, Henry, this is the story of my first foreclosure. The
first with my silent partners, at any rate. A kind of trial purchase. You see,
they wanted to check me out, see if I had the guts to hack it in the wilds of
American business.
 
HENRY:
Am I ever going to meet these silent partners of yours?
 
MR. V:
You ever see the Godfather?
 
HENRY:
Yeah.
 
MR. V:
Then you know my business partners.
 
HENRY:
Al Pacino?
 
MR. V:
You're interrupting the flow of my story. (resumes) As I was
saying about my first foreclosure, I started by hiring my first assistant. Now
that I think of it, someone very like you, Henry, a milquetoast by the name of
Jerome. (fade out) I remember the day perfectly. We'd been sent to a small
seaside town called Bilgewash…
 
SFX: CHIME SOUND INDICATING A MOVE INTO THE PAST; FADE UP ON
SOUND OF OCEAN SURF AND SEAGULLS
 
JEROME (wimpy voice, obsequious):
I want to thank you again, Mr. Valenzuela, for giving me
this job. I mean picking me off the street and all.
 
MR. V:
Well, Jerome, it was either give you a job, or listen to you
pluck "Dixie" on the banjo every time I walked out of the office.
 
JEROME:
Well, street musicians are kinda territorial. That was the
only corner that wasn't taken. Anyway, I'm really glad to be doing something
else for a while.
 
SFX: SEAGULLS UP, SHIP HORN
 
JEROME (cont'd after a beat):
So, what kinda job is this?
 
MR. V:
Capitalism 101, Jerome. You can't afford what you've bought,
so I'm taking it away from you.
 
JEROME:
What I have?
 
MR. V:
Hypothetical speech, Jerome…evidently beyond your pay grade. No, I was speaking
of Sherry Jones.
 
JERMONE:
Oh, her. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. You mentioned her in the car.
 
MR. V:
That's where we're walking now—and, in fact, this
white-washed hovel looks like….(consulting his sheet) yes, it is hers. 1924
Keelhaul Lane….Oh, isn't that unique. A lighthouse doorbell. Just give it a
little tap—
 
SFX: FOG HORN
 
MR. V (cont'd):
Pretty throaty doorbell. Hard to miss that. Oh, I think I
hear her coming.
 
SFX: DOOR OPENS
 
SHERRY:
Yeah, what do you want?
 
MR. V:
Well, good day to you, Miss (reaching for name) Jones?
 
SHERRY:
Says so on the door. Guess that's me.
 
MR. V:
What a coincidence. Because right here in my pocket, I have
a check for $10,000 made out to Miss Sherry Jones of Keelhaul Lane.
 
JEROME (overlapping):
Wow.
 
MR. V:
You, my friend, are the winner of Bilgewash City's Citizen
of the Year Award.
 
JEROME (overlapping):
Oh, that's so cool.
 
SHERRY:
Hmph. Never heard of it.
 
MR. V:
May we come in?
 
SHERRY:
Help yourself.
 
SFX: VOICE ATMOSPHERICS CHANGE TO INTERIOR
 
SHERRY (cont'd, off mike, moving into kitchen):
You two can take a seat. I'm gonna get my beer from the
kitchen.
 
MR. V:
You go right ahead.
 
JEROME:
Wow, Mr. Valenzuela, you never told me we were giving out
$10,000.
 
MR. V (under his breath):
We're not giving out $10,000, Jerome. It's a screen. Just to
get us inside.
 
JEROME:
Well, what's the check for then?
 
MR. V (under his breath, losing patience):
There is no—it's…okay, just do me a favor here, Jerome, and
don't think. Don't even say a word until—
 
SHERRY (breaks in):
HAAAAA!
 
SFX: INTO SOMETHING SOFT AND SQUISHY
 
JERMONE:
Ungh!
 
SHERRY:
Ha! You thought you could trick me with that old $10,000
trick, well, I got news for you, mister, Sherry Jones wasn't born yesterday. I
know why you're here. You're trying to throw me outta my house, and no one
throws me outta my house.
 
JEROME (weakly, incredulous):
Oh my god. I'm bleeding.
 
MR. V (alarmed):
What was that?
 
JEROME (weakly, in background):
I think she hit me. Uhhhh…
 
MR. V (cont'd):
Did you just throw something?
 
SHERRY:
THAT was a five-pointed stainless steel Ninja throwing star.
And there's more where that came from. Hiiiii-yah!
 
SFX: SOMETHING WINGS THROUGH AIR (but this time Mr. V
catches it)
 
SHERRY:
What? How did…You caught the ninja throwing star?
 
MR. V:
In my fingertips, yes, Miss Jones. Little known fact, but
I'll let you in on a secret of my own: I invented the five-pointed surgical
stainless steel Ninja throwing STAR! (strains as throws the star and hits…)
 
SFX: SOMETHING WINGS THROUGH AIR AND THUNKS INTO SOMETHING
SQUISHY
 
SHERRY:
Uh! Ya hit me. Ya hit me. I'm going…going down. I'mmm…uhhh…
 
SFX: BODY THUNKS TO GROUND
 
MR. V:
Well, that was easy enough, wasn't it, Jerome? Jerome? What
are you doing on the ground?
 
SFX: CHIMES INDICATING RETURN TO PRESENT TIME
 
MR. V:
And that, Henry, is how I came to form Valenzuela Properties
LLC, and you came to feed off the host.
 
HENRY:
Work for you, you mean. Why don't you just say, "Work
for you" instead of this…(mimicking) "Feed off the host…"? You
know it's not like I don't work for my money. I've got you out of plenty of
scrapes. (beat) So, whatever happened to Jerome?
 
MR. V (chuckles):
Playing in the halleluiah chorus, in the great hereafter.
 
SFX: DISTANT HOWL OF DOGS
 
HENRY (shivers):
Ewwww. Those Jollys, Mr. V, they really give me the heebie
jeebies, you know? I mean, I don't know, I think Mr. Curry was onto something.
About people not coming back from here alive. I think they, well, did you get
the impression they wanted to eat us?
 
MR. V:
Eat us? They have to catch us first, which is why (big YAWN
through…) I think I'm going to hit the hay. Cut the lights on your way out,
will you?
 
HENRY:
My way out? I'm not going anywhere. Not with those
daughters—
 
SFX: DOG HOWL, CLOSER
 
HENRY (cont'd)
--out there.
 
MR. V:
Henry, you surprise me. A married man. Alright, big boy, hop
on in. But if you steal the sheets in the…
 
HENRY (overlapping with "sheets in the"):
Okay. Okay. I'll go in the next room. But I get the
numchucks and the mace.
 
MR. V:
Look, there's even a connecting bathroom between our rooms.
At the first sound of anything—
 
HENRY (cuts in, agreeing):
Anything.
 
MR. V:
Just give me a shriek and I'll (a BIGGER YAWN as offhandedly
says)…you know, whatever. (fade out as Henry moves away) The lights, Henry.
 
HENRY:
There.
 
SFX: SNAP OF LIGHT SWITCH
 
HENRY (cont'd):
But I'm going to turn the bathroom light—
 
SFX: SNAP OF LIGHT SWITCH
 
HENRY (cont'd, echoy bathroom voice):
--on, okay, Mr. V? Mr. V?
 
MR. V (off mike):
It's been two seconds. Do you really think I've fallen
asleep?
 
HENRY:
All right. Night. (beat) And, uh, Mr. V, just in case
anything happens…
 
MR. V (off mike):
I love you too, Henry.
 
HENRY:
Tell my wife that those magazines I stuffed under our
mattress—well, I just holding onto them for someone else. This guy at work…
 
MR. V (sleepily):
Night, Henry.
 
HENRY (echoy):
Yeah, night, okay…I'll just leave the connecting doors open,
'kay?
 
MR. V (off mike):
(one loud snore)
 
HENRY (echoy bathroom voice, to himself):
Oh, god, look at the sink. And that toilet!…Mr. V wasn't
kidding about the tetanus booster. We'll just open this door--
 
 
SFX: DOOR OPENS, CLICK LIGHT SWITCH, VOICE NO LONGER ECHOY
(as enters bedroom)
 
HENRY (cont'd):
--into the bedroom and, uh.... (beat) Mmhm, I see. He would
give me this room. Right. He gets a few cobwebs and I get Slaughterhouse Five.
And how much do I get paid for this?
 
SFX: DOGS HOWLING, VERY CLOSE NOW
 
HENRY:
Are they…?
 
SFX: DOGS CLAWING DOOR, BARKING RIGHT OUTSIDE
 
HENRY:
They're outside the door. (running, voice gets echoy as goes
in bathroom and then normal interior as enters Mr. V's room) Mr. V! Mr. V! Mr.
V, are you awake?
 
MR. V:
Is that a rhetorical question?
 
HENRY (overwrought):
The dogs—I mean the Jolly daughters—they're trying to claw
in my room, through the door. Clawing and leaping against—can't you hear them?
(beat, all is silence) Or, they were. I swear, Mr. V, they were just, I swear
on my mother-in-law's grave. Just a second ago.
 
SFX: THUMP OF FEET HITTING FLOOR
 
MR. V (hopping out of bed):
I can see I'm not going to get any sleep this way. All
right, Henry, I'm going to walk into the hall.
 
HENRY (alarmed):
Don't open your bedroom door.
 
MR. V (getting farther off mike):
And open my door and—
 
HENRY:
Don't walk in the hall.
 
MR. V (farther off mike):
And walk in the hall and go down here—AHHHHHHH (continues
under Henry's yelling..)
 
HENRY:
Mr. V! Mr. V! What are—Mr. V?
 
MR. V (calm):
Damn.
 
HENRY (stuttering):
The dogs-doggie--daughters, what…what are they…?
 
MR. V:
I stubbed my toe.
 
HENRY:
But you see them, right? They're out there.
 
MR. V:
Henry, you haven't been drinking any of that water, have
you?
 
HENRY:
Okay. You stay there, Mr. V. Actually, stand outside my
door, and I'm gonna…I'm gonna run back into my room, okay? And—
 
MR. V:
Yes, yes.
 
HENRY:
Okay, I'm running to my room.
 
SFX: RUN OF FEET THROUGH ECHOY BATHROOM THEN INTO BEDROOM;
OPENS DOOR
 
HENRY:
Just a sec. I'm opening the door.
 
SFX: OPENS DOOR


MR. V:
Henry, is that you? What are you doing here?
 
HENRY (to himself):
I don't get it. There were just here. I heard them.
 
MR. V (moving away):
I'm going to bed. Goodnight.
 
SFX: CLOSES DOOR
 
HENRY:
I don't get it. I swear they were…Oh, well. Better lock this
anyway.
 
SFX: SNAP OF LOCK, THEN LOW DOG GROWLING VERY NEAR AND
CONTINUE UNDER HENRY LINES
 
HENRY (nervous):
—were growling. Very near. Oh, no….there you are, girls.
Jolly girls. Jolly Jolly girls. You snuck in through Mr. V's room, didn't you?
 
MR. V (off mike, echoy through bathroom):
Night, Henry. I'm going to shut this bathroom door, okay?
 
HENRY (overlapping beginning "the bathroom door"):
Mr. V, don't shut—
 
SFX: DOOR SHUTS
 
HENRY (cont'd):
Figures.
 
SFX: DOGS GROWLING
 
HENRY:
Hi girls, I—I---ewwww, now don't come any closer now. Not
unless you want Uncle Henry to spank you with these NUMCHUCKS!
 
SFX: NUMCHUCKS LIMPLY SKITTER ACROSS FLOOR
 
HENRY:
Butter fingers. Butter fingers. Now what am I--
 
SFX: DOGS GROWLING
 
HENRY:
Nice girls. Nice, nice…Uncle Henry was just kidding about
the numchucks. He wouldn't have used his numchucks on you, not when he has
pepper SPRAY.
 
MR. JOLLY (muffled, loud through door):
Bane, Hemlock, settle!
 
SFX: DOGS QUIET
 
HENRY:
Mr. Jolly?
 
SFX: DOOR RATTLES
 
MR. JOLLY (muffled, through door):
You've locked the door. Now that wasn't very polite, after
all we've done. Where's the trust? Guess I'll just have to break it down.
 
SFX: CRASH AGAINST DOOR, CONTINUES UNDER…
 
HENRY:
Stay girls, stay.
 
SFX: DOGS LOW GROWL
 
HENRY (cont'd):
Uncle Henry's going to just see, uh, if Mr. V wants to come
out and play. Let me get in the bathroom here (echoy bathroom voice), into the
bathroom, nice girls, be nice. Uncle Henry's got his mace?
 
SFX: JIGGLING DOOR KNOB
 
HENRY:
Oh, shoot. Mr. V locked—
 
SFX: RAPPING ON DOOR AS IN NEXT ROOM THE DOOR CRASHES IN
 
MRS. JOLLY (off mike):
Now where's that cute little morsel?
 
HENRY:
Shoot.
 
SFX: RAPID KNOCKING ON DOOR
 
HENRY:
Mr. V? Uh, Mr. V? I think you accidentally locked the door.
(SFX: GROWLING) Nice girls, nice. You locked the door, and I need you to open
it, okay, Mr. V? Like right now.
 
MRS. JOLLY (echoy bathroom voice):
Oh, there he is.
 
MR. JOLLY (echoy bathroom voice):
You stay back, mama.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Cute as a little lamb chop. Didn't I say?
 
MR. JOLLY:
I'll take care of this. Girls, what have you got in here?
Well, if it isn't…
 
HENRY:
Hi.
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
…dinner. Mama, the carving knives.
 
SFX: BLADES SLICING AGAINST EACH OTHER
 
MR. JOLLY (cont'd):
Girls, go now. Go into the bedroom. This is going to be
messy.
 
SFX: ANOTHER SLICE OF BLADES OVER "mess"; RAPID
KNOCKING ON DOOR
 
HENRY (cont'd):
Mr. V? You really need to get out of bed.
 
MR. V (muffled, distant):
Henry?
 
HENRY:
Mr. Jolly, not one more step. You either, Mrs. Jolly, or
I'll spray you with this…this very toxic, flesh-eating virus.
 
MR. JOLLY:
Flesh eating. That sounds nice.
 
SFX: BLADES SLICING AFTER "nice"
 
HENRY:
I swear I will. Not one more step.
 
MRS. JOLLY:
Don't slice the tenderloin, Myron. You know how you just
hack--
 
CURRY (off mike, overlapping with "hack"):
(screaming distantly) Yeeee-ah, caught ya fiends. That's
right. Time to meet yer maker.
 
SFX: DOGS BARKING, GUNSHOT OFF MIKE


CURRY (off mike):
That's for eating the postman. And THAT'S—
 
SFX: GUNSHOT OFF MIKE, DOG BARKING STOPS ABRUPTLY
 
CURRY (off mike):
—for eating my cousin Jimmy.
 
SFX: FOOTSTEPS CLOSER
 
CURRY (cont'd; near, echoy):
More fiends!
 
HENRY:
Oh my god!
 
CURRY:
And this--THIS is for old Zeke, (getting teary-eyed) the
best neighbor a guy ever had, and for my little dog Fluffy.
 
SFX: TWO DEAFENING GUNSHOTS, TWO BODIES SLUMP TO GROUND; (a
beat) DOOR CRASHES OPEN
 
MR. V (close, echoy):
What on earth…? What are you doing in…? (beat) Mr. Curry?
When did you get here?
 
CURRY (alarmed):
By Jesus! You almost got yer head shot off, ya did. Thought
you was one of them fiends crashing through the door.
 
MR. V:
Ah, yes, the Jollys. Hmmm. Doesn't look like they'll be
going anywhere soon. (beat) Henry? You haven't seen my assistant, have you?
 
HENRY (muffled):
Under here.
 
MR. V:
Henry?
 
HENRY (muffled):
Under Mr. Jolly.
 
MR. V:
Oh, yes, now I see you.
 
 




MUSIC
 
HENRY (narrating):
Last month, Mr. V broke ground on the new Valenzuelaland
Theme Park.
 
SFX: CLICK OF MEGAPHONE/OUTDOOR PA SYSTEM TURNED ON, VOICE
ECHOING THROUGH OPEN SPACE
 
MR. V (through megaphone):
I want to thank you all for coming out today, on this
historic occasion as we break ground on what will come to be known as the gold
standard in outdoor amusement parks: Valenzuelaland.
 
SFX: WEAK APPLAUSE
 
AUDIENCE MEMBER (off mike):
What about the free hot dogs you promised?
 
HENRY (narrating):
Mr. V was hoping to start construction in a few weeks, but
the firm he hired to demolish the Jollys' house, the proposed site of
Valenzuelaland's Lumberjack Flapjack Camp, made some discoveries.
 
SFX: SFX OF SHOVEL DIGGING AND HITTING BONE, HEAVY MACHINERY
IN BG
 
CONSTRUCTION WORKER 1:
If that don't beat all.
 
CONSTRUCTION WORKER 2:
Watch where you're putting that shovel.
 
CONSTRUCTION WORKER 1:
Russell, check this out. That look like a human skull to
you?
 
CONSTRUCTION WORKER 2:
Let me see…Hm…Nah, that's just one of them mutant squirrel
bones Mr. V was talking about. Said to toss 'em in that pile over there.
 
CONSTRUCTION WORKER 1:
All right. 
 
SFX: SKULL CLUNKING ON PILE
 
HENRY (narrating):
To date, they've uncovered over 600 skeletons in and around
the Jolly place, which has led Mr. V and his partners to relocate the
Lumberjack Flapjack Camp a half mile east. People were starting to wonder.
 
SHERIFF:
Mr. Valenzuela, I can assure you I have lived in this part
of the country for going on forty-seven years and I have never seen squirrels
that monumental.
 
MR. V:
What can I say, sheriff? Groundwater pollution. First you
pollute the mill pond, and the next thing you know, you have two-headed frogs—
 
SHERIFF (unbelieving):
--and squirrels the size of my high school football coach.
 
SFX: DISTANT GUNSHOT
 
SHERIFF:
What was that?
 
CURRY (off mike):
Got anther one, Mr. V!
 
MR. V (hollering):
Way to go, Mr. Curry. (to Sheriff) That's our groundskeeper,
Mr. Curry. He's been weeding the mutants out of the local squirrel population.
 
SFX: DISTANT GUNSHOT
 
CURRY (off mike):
Got another one, Mr. V. That's eleven.
 
MR. V (hollering):
Glad you can count, Mr. Curry. (to Sheriff) Sheriff, before
I forget. My partners and I wanted you to have this—
 
SFX: CHECK RIPPED FROM REGISTER
 
MR. V (cont'd):
—check. Consider it our donation to the Policeman's Ball.
 
HENRY (narrating):
So, rather than tear down the Jolly place, and risk further
discoveries, Valenzuela Properties LLC decided to remodel it and put it for
sale on the Spend Money Now shopping network.
 
TV ANNOUNCER:
Can you believe this price? $199,999 for a three-bedroom,
lumberjack-era farmhouse, located in the heart of beautiful Valenzuelaland
Theme Park. That's a steal, folks, and I'm not kidding when I say supplies are
limited. This house is one of a kind. (fade out) So call fast or you'll miss
the opportunity of a lifetime.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
That house, Margot. Look at that house. It has me written
all over it.
 
HENRY (undertone):
I couldn't agree more.
 
MARGOT:
Are you sure, Ma? I mean it's so far north.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Oh, where's my phone? I need my phone. Why can't I ever find
my—(angry) Henry, where did you put my phone?
 
HENRY (narrating):
As to those bones, Mr. V knows a horticulturalist says bones
are great for flower gardens. Brought out one of those bone-grinding machines
one day (SFX: GRINDING NOISE) and the rest was roses.
 
TV ANNOUNCER:
Folks, look at those charming rose gardens. Imagine sitting
in your breakfast nook with a morning cup of coffee—
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (overlapping):
I see it already.
 
TV ANNOUNCER (cont'd):
--looking over those beautiful rose gardens. And all this
for only $199,999.
 
HENRY:
Oh, what's this? Hey, I just found the phone under my seat
cushion.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
I knew it. Didn't I tell you, Margot? I told you.
 
MARGOT:
Ma, Henry wouldn't steal your phone.
 
SFX: DIALING SEVEN NUMBERS (overlapping with…)
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Probably going to sell it, pay off all those 1-900 calls
he's been racking up.
 
HENRY:
You mean YOUR 1-900 calls, to that phony psychic.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Margot, did I tell you what the psychic told me? She told me
she saw evil lurking over the house. Evil! And we know how to spell evil, don't
we, H-E-N-R-Y?
 
TV ANNOUNCER:
Have you called yet, for a sweetheart deal on the home of
your dreams?
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (anxious, overlapping):
I am, I am. God god god, c'mon c'mon c'mon. Ring!
 
SFX: RINGING TONE
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW (cont'd):
Oh, it's ringing. Oh my god, Margot. It's ringing. I've
gotten through.
 
TV ANNOUNCER (cont'd):
This snappy little number won't be available for long. Not
at $199,999. So, call now. You deserve to be happy.
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
I deserve to be happy. Yes, I do. I deserve to be hap—Oh,
please pick up.
 
HENRY: As for Margot and me, we're still living with my
in-laws. Still saving to buy our own place, yet with Margot out of work that'll
take a while. But I'm optimistic. One thing I've learned working with Mr.
V—people always get what they deserve.
 
SFX: LINE BEING PICKED UP
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Somebody's…I think somebody's picking up…
 
PHONE BANK RECEPTIONIST:
Hello, SpendMoneyNow Shopping Channel, what item are you
calling on?
 
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
Yes, hello, I'm calling about that delightful little
lumberjack house. The one on Valenzuelaland. I just know I was meant to have
it. (fade out) You see, I have this reproduction Mary Todd Lincoln fainting
couch that would be just perfect in the living room…
 
MUSIC
 
 

Screen Writer

Letterpress Art, by Design
Chick Flicks
Just a girl
POP CULTURE: From Sandman to Star Trek to Sammy the Mouse
Why I Joined the Air Force: Part 1. The Man in the Light
Oh Hell
An ‘unforgettable’ man
The Mystery of the Third Lucretia: Susan Runholt
Rose Ensemble to Perform in Elk River
Rena Haus plays the blues with Taste
Nobody's Fool: Theater and the Homeless
Mississippi Connections: Artist Ron Merchant paints Minnesota's river towns
New Christmas CD by Elk River flutist
Doralucia in Bloom
"The Witness" performed at Central Lutheran Church
Secret Gardens: The Landscape Arboretum's Summer Gift
A River Journey: Ron Merchant
The Art of the Natural
ArtSoup dishes up fun activities for children
Art for sale at ArtSoup
ArtSoup Community Arts Festival looking for artists
Classic Car Show at ArtSoup
Monticello artist will create chalk art at ArtSoup
Where there's fair, there's food
The Raptor Center at ArtSoup 2005
The Rena Haus Band invites local musicians to jam
Ring of Kerry to perform on the ArtSoup Energy Stage
Chaska author to discuss new novel at ArtSoup
It's lovely weather for a sleigh ride...in June
Swan Sculpture will promote ArtSoup 2005
Elk River artist Cari Rock remembered
Mike Olson's Sound Art
Mike Peterson's American Vision
The Poet's Antarctica
Life through a pinhole
Debbie, Manny and the Mob
Student musicians to share stage with Army Field Band
Holocaust survivor to speak at Elk River Public Library April 5
Mu Performing Arts will return to Elk River
Cashing in on Cabela's?
Everything's Coming Up Roseville
Wild Life
Author Jane Toleno Makes the Connection
Sorry to see you go...
Enhanced 9-1-1 Speeds Response Time When Time Is of the Essence
What your children need to know about Enhanced 9-1-1
Your house is your home: Enhanced 9-1-1
Curves holiday craft sale to benefit the American Cancer Society
Twin Cities Underground Film Fest NR
Going vintage
Red Wing Framing Gallery harvests the season with Autumn Aire
Arts on ice: Arts in Harmony '08
The Mitten Tree
I want to be in pictures
Wedding Gifts: Shopping the Exquisite Past
POP CULTURE: From Sandman to Star Trek to Sammy the Mouse
Cyberbullying
Where the Action Still Is
Working in a Hot Medium: Bakelite
Carved and Painted Beauties
Wagon Train trip West led to mutiny for maricle and other travelers
Re-TREAT Yourself: Minnesota's Spas and Retreats
Stillwater Still Has It
Arts, Activism and Robert Bluestone
‘Some Enchanted Evening’ at Zabee
For the Love of Roxie
RADIO: Rescuing Seneca Crane
Online, on-leash and together at last
Horse Wisdom
Heid Erdrich: A Monument of One's Own
Heid Erdrich: National Monuments
Diary sent Fargo man on 34-year hunt
Radio Play: The Evil of Shady Lake (with production notes)
The Norm (screenplay - early draft)
Cartoonist Profile: Steven Stwalley
Cartoonist Profile: Zak Sally
Cartoonist Profile: Zak Sally
Cartoonist Profile: Doug Mahnke
The Norm screenplay (early draft)