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 Now online (1)dariusgriffin ...and 521 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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ACT ONE: Curtains open. Int. small Study. It is very dark. The only illumination comes from what may be a spotlight in the ceiling. Not much of the room Can be seen. There is a large circular rug in the center of the spotlight, with an oversized leather chair. To its right, a small side-table. On it are a tall glass, a small answering machine (message light blinking, signifying some missed calls) and a telephone. Barely able to be seen in the dark, to stage left, is a large stone fireplace. Caller 1 climbs down and out of it, and begins dusting himself off. There is a slight pause, before Caller 1 paces the room, dragging his feet in a sluggish fashion. He appears to be unnerved by his surroundings. There is a long pause, as Caller 1 stands in absolute silence in a far corner. His head is upturned, slowly mouthing something inaudible, occasionally using both hands and pulling hair back with wide eyes. Most of this is in silhouette, due to the lack of light, but he eventually comes to rest in front of the large leather chair. Looking down reluctantly, Caller 1 takes a seat. After a few fretful breaths, he notices the answering machine. Caller 1: (quietly, in a somewhat detached manner) “eleven messages.” He waifishly presses the play button. After the perfunctory discharge of static and garbled crackle, it begins to play Its first message. Caller 1 sits motionless throughout. Caller 2: (through rough tape hiss and muddled tones, as if recently and/or on the verge of crying) are you there? (silence for about ten seconds, then a slight whimper) well, if you get this… (slightly panicked breathing for about five seconds, then a short moan and a click. After about ten more seconds, the line is dead.) Caller 1 quickly shuts the machine off. He quietly gets up from the chair and crosses the room into darkness. He returns with a small bouquet of surprisingly healthy white roses. They are very bright, even in the darkness. There is a small tag attached. Caller 1 returns to the chair, laying |
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Caller 1 returns to the chair, laying the bouquet on his lap and looks at the tall glass of water sitting on the table. After a moments hesitation, he timidly picks up the glass, and whilst thumbing the tag open, takes a steady drink. After reading the message, he returns the glass to its proper place. He then begins delicately arranging the roses in the glass. Smiling briefly, Caller 1 takes a deep, bittersweet breath; placid for a moment. The phone rings. Caller 1 stares at the phone, completely motionless until it stops (after about 20 rings). He bites his knuckles in terrible anticipation of the ringing to begin again. After a few tense moments, Caller 1 gets up and walks over to the chimney. He reaches behind a brick and, eyes looking up into his skull, produces a small brass key. Caller 1 then walks into the shadows again. We hear a lock opening and something being opened, then shut. Caller 1 returns, this time carrying a small picture frame and a revolver. We cannot see the image in the frame, but it has an obviously strong hold over Caller 1, as he sits in the chair and begins weeping over it. Caller 1 abruptly pulls himself out of this trance, and sits the picture on the small table, staring at it all the while. He then reaches for the phone, eyes never leaving the picture, as if to call Caller 2. His actions are cut short by a hard pounding at the door. Startled, Caller 1 looks at the revolver and then looks at the door. He quickly hides the revolver in the drawer of the small side-table. He sits the frame facedown on the table. Again, the harsh pounding. Caller 1: (in a very panicked manner): “Wh… Who’s there?!?”. (after a period of silence) “Hello?!?” Still more silence. Caller 1 gulps hard and squirms in the chair a bit. He then slowly reaches for the side-table. Just as he is About to reach the handle on the drawer, we hear the loudest pounding yet. Three large slams. WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! Caller 1 jumps in fear and lets out a ghastly shriek, like a woman being raped. Then silen |
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Then silence. Caller 1 clumsily opens the Drawer and shakily grabs the revolver. He rises to his feet and gathers up some courage. Caller 1: (in a commanding tone) “Look… I don’t know who you think…” He is cut short by a blast of sound beyond adequate description. It is the voice of Death itself, come from Hell to feed. It is loud and furious. It is violent and terrifying. It lasts only 5-10 seconds. Caller 1 collapses in a heap. Once it is silent Again, he crawls back to the chair and climbs up, crying hard. He puts the revolver to his head and moans loudly. He throws the gun across the room and huddles in a fetal position on the chair. He bawls hard into his folded arms. He reaches out and grabs the receiver of the phone. He tries to gain composure and dials Caller 2. After a few rings, Caller 2 answers. Caller 1: (shakily) “It’s me.” Lights dim out. Curtains close. |
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They say you are what you eat, so I strive to be healthy my goal in life is not to be rich or wealthy cause true wealth comes from good health, and wise ways we got to start taking better care of ourselves |
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beg your pardon? |
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So caller one is Santa? |
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sorry. no presents. |
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So caller two is Eugene Ionesco? |
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hahahahahaha i dont know who that is. |
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Then we find out caller 1 as played by Bruce Willis is really a ghost. Surprise! |
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nope. and he would have to be played by someone who can pull off neurotic well (NOT woody allen) |
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that is well dark 'land of the dying' ? |
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