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Spoiler

 

Hocus Pocus Script

 

   

 

                   

 

Emily?

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

Emily!

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

Come, little children

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

I'll take thee away

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

- Into a land

 

- Emily!

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

Of enchantment

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

Come, little children

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

- The time's come to say

 

- Elijah! Elijah!

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

- Hast thou seen my sister Emily?

 

- Nay.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

But look. They conjure.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Oh, God. The woods!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Emily!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- She's done for.

 

- Not yet!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

You wake my father.

 

Summon the elders. Go!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Emily!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Come, child.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Ahh.

 

- Oh, yes.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Emily.

 

- Huh?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Oh, look.

 

Another glorious morning.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

It makes me sick!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Sisters!

 

- Yes, Winnie.

 

- We're coming, Winnie.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Right away. Sorry.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Must've been an imp.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

My darling.

 

My little book.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We must continue with our spell now that

 

our little guest of honor has arrived.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Wake up. Wake up, darling.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Yes. Oh, come along, darling.

 

There you are.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Mary!

 

- Right here, Winnie, right here.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Sorry.

 

- Hello. Hello.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- I've noticed sister Sarah isn't helping.

 

- I lured the child here.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Leave her be.

 

She hath done her chore.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- You're right, I'm wrong.

 

- Mmm.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

All right.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

'Tis time!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

There it is: '' Bring to a full rolling

 

bubble. Add two drops oil of boil.''

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Ah-ah-ah. I got it. It's heavy.

 

You do that, I'll do this.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

'' Mix blood of owl

 

with the herb that's red.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Turn three times,

 

pluck a hair from my head.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Add a dash of pox

 

and a dead man's toe.''

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Dead man's toe, and make it a fleshy one.

 

- Dead man's toe!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Deadman's toe

 

Add a deadman's toe

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Deadman's toe

 

Deadman's t--

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Dead, dead, dead, dead

 

Dead, dead, dead, dead

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

D-- Ooh!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Uh-oh. Deadman's toe

 

- Fresh one.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Deadman, deadman

 

- Deadman's toe, add a--

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Will you two stop that!

 

I need to concentrate!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sorry, uh--

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

She needs to concentrate.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

''Green newt saliva.''

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- I-I smell a child.

 

- Ehh, what dost thou call that?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- A child.

 

- Hmph!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sisters, gather 'round.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- One thing more, and all is done.

 

- Yes?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Add a bit of thine own tongue.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Oh, Winnie, thou art divine.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

'Tis ready for tasting.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

One drop of this

 

and her life will be mine.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- I mean, ours.

 

- Yeah.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

All right, girl.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Open up your mouth.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- No!

 

- A boy!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Get him, you fools!

 

- I got him. I knew I smelled a boy!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I got him. Come on. Come on.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Get away!

 

- Here you go.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Get away from my potion!

 

- Ohh!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Ohh!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Winnie!

 

- My potion!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Emily!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Hmm. Hmm.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Winnie. Winnie.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Look.

 

- Ahh!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sisters, prepare thyselves.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

'Tis her life force.

 

The potion works!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Take my hands.

 

We will share her.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Oh, Winnie,

 

how generous of thee.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sisters, behold!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I am beautiful!

 

Boys will love me!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We’re young!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Well, younger.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

But it's a start!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sisters!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Winifred, thou art

 

a mere sprig of a girl.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Liar! But I shall be

 

a sprig forever,

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

once I suck the life out of

 

all the children in Salem!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's brew another batch!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

You hag! There are not enough

 

children in the world to make

 

thee young and beautiful!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Hag.

 

- Uh-oh.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Sisters, did you hear

 

what he called you?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Whatever shall we do with him?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's barbecue and fillet him.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- Hang him on a hook

 

and let me play with him?

 

- No!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Book, darling, come to Mommy.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Yes. His punishment

 

must be more fulsome,

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

more lingering.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Dazzle me, my darling.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's see: amnesia, bunions,

 

chilblains, cholera.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

- We can do better than that, I think.

 

- Yes.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's see what we have. Oh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ahh. Perfect.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

As usual.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- His punishment shall not be to die,

 

- No?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

but to live forever

 

with his guilt.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- As what, Winnie, as what?

 

- As what, Winnie, as what?

 

- Jump back!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Twist the bones

 

and bend the back.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Itch-it-a-cop-it-a,

 

Mel-a-ka-mys-tic-a.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Trim him of his baby fat.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Itch-it-a-cop-it-a,

 

Mel-a-ka-mys-tic-a.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give him fur,

 

black as black.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Just...

 

- Like...

 

- This.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Open!

 

- Witches!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Daughters of darkness!

 

Open this door!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hide the child!

 

- The child!

 

- Come on!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Witches? Uh, there be

 

no witches here, sir!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't get your knickers

 

in a twist!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We are just three kindly

 

old spinster ladies!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Uh, spending a quiet

 

evening at home!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sucking the lives

 

out of little children!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winifred Sanderson?

 

- Yes?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I will ask thee one final time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yes?

 

- What hast thou done

 

with my son Thackery?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Thackery. Mmm.

 

- Answer me!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Well, I don't know.

 

- Speak!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Cat's got my tongue.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This is-- This is

 

terribly uncomfortable.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sisters, sing.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thrice I with mercury purify

 

and spit upon the    tables

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Don't listen! Cover your ears!

 

- Listen to them not!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah! Fools! All of you!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My ungodly book speaks to you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

On All Hallows Eve

 

when the moon is round,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

a virgin will summon us

 

from under the ground.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh! Ohhh! We shall be back!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And the lives of all

 

the children shall be mine!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Away!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Away, beast!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Poor Thackery Binx.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Neither his father, his mother,

 

nor anyone else...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

ever knew what became of him...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

those  OO years ago.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And so the Sanderson Sisters...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

were hanged

 

by the Salem town folk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Now, there are those who say

 

that on Halloween night...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

a black cat still guards

 

the old Sanderson house,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

warning off any who

 

might make the witches...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

come back to life!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Gimme a break.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aha. We seem to have

 

a sceptic in our midst.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mr. Dennison,

 

would you care to share...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

your California, laid-back,

 

tie-dyed point of view?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Granted that, uh,

 

you guys here in Salem...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

are all into these, uh, black

 

cats and witches and stuff.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Stuff?

 

- Fine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But everyone here knows that Halloween

 

was invented by the candy companies.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Ohh!

 

- It's a conspiracy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It just so happens that

 

Halloween is based...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

on the ancient feast

 

called All Hallows Eve.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's the one night of they ear

 

where the spirits of the dead

 

can return to Earth.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well said, Allison.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, in case Jimi Hendrix shows

 

up tonight, here's my number.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, let's go.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hey, wait up.

 

- Did he call you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah.

 

- Well, what did he say?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max. Fat chance.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Allison.

 

- Hi.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hi. Look, um, I'm sorry.

 

I didn't mean to embarrass you in class.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You didn't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- My name is Max Dennison.

 

- Yeah, I know.

 

You just moved here, huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah, last week.

 

- Must be a big change for you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, that's for sure.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- You don't like it here?

 

- Oh, the leaves are great, but--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I-I don't know.

 

just all this Halloween stuff.

 

- You don't believe in it?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What, do you mean, like,

 

the Sanderson Sisters? No way.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Not even on Halloween?

 

- Especially not on Halloween.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Trick or treat.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hey, Christie, wait for me.

 

- No, I don't think so.

 

- I'm coming!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Halt! Who are you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max. I just moved here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- From where?

 

- Los Angeles.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- L.A.?

 

- Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Dude!

 

- Tubular.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm Jay. This is Ernie.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

How many times I gotta tell you,

 

my name ain't Ernie no more.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- It's Ice.

 

- Oh.

 

- Ice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This is Ice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So, let's have a butt.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah, no, thanks. I don't smoke.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're very health conscious

 

in Los Angeles.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You got any cash...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hollywood?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- No.

 

- Gee.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We don't get any smokes from

 

you, we don't get any cash.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What am I supposed to do

 

with my afternoon?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Maybe you could learn to

 

breathe through your nose.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Check out

 

the new cross-trainers.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Cool. Let me try 'em on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah-ah.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Later, dude!

 

- See ya, Hollywood!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hey, Max! Hey, how was school?

 

- It sucked!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, hey, hey,

 

watch your language.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I can't believe

 

you made me move here!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Huh. He wasn't wearing

 

any shoes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, must be

 

some form of protest.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, guys.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, Allison.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're so soft.

 

I just wanna--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Boo!

 

- Dani!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I scared you, I scared you!

 

Ha ha ha-ha ha!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm Allison. Allison.

 

Kiss me. I'm Allison!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mom and Dad told you

 

to stay out of my room!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't be such a crab!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Guess what. You're gonna

 

take me trick-or-treating.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Not this year, Dani.

 

- Mom said you have to.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Well, she can take you.

 

- She and Dad are going to

 

a party at Town Hall.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, you're eight!

 

Go by yourself.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No way! This is my first time!

 

I'll get lost!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Besides, it's a full moon

 

outside! The weirdos are out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, Max. Couldn't you

 

forget about being a cool

 

teenager just for one night?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Please? Come on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We used to have so much fun together

 

trick-or-treating. Remember?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It'll be like old times.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No. The old days are dead.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It doesn't matter what you say.

 

You're taking me!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Wanna bet?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mom!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Let's go. Hurry up!

 

The bewitching hour is about to begin!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Wow-- Aah! Please help me!

 

Aah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Isn't that a scary witch?

 

-Stop! You look very scary. Wow!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What about you, Max?

 

What are you supposed to be?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- A rap singer.

 

- Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, your hat should be

 

on sideways, shouldn't it?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Say '' Halloween''!

 

- Halloween!

 

- Halloween!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- Trick or treat!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Lighten up, Max.

 

- Can we go home now?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Let’s just go this way.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Dani.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ding-ding. Ding-ding.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Stop and pay the toll, kid.

 

- Ten chocolate bars. No licor ice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Dump out your sack.

 

- Drop dead. Moron.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Whoa!

 

- Ooh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yo, twerp.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- How'd you like to be hung

 

off that telephone pole?

 

- Yeah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I’d just like to see you try,

 

because it just so happens

 

I've got my big brother with me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oooh!

 

- Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hollywood!

 

- Oh, no!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So, you're doing

 

a little trick-or-treating.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Ding-dong.

 

- Whoo!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I'm just taking

 

my little sister around.

 

- Mmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's nice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Whoa! I love the costume!

 

- Yeah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But what are you supposed to be?

 

A New Kid On The Block?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

For your information,

 

he's a Little Leaguer.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Whoa!

 

- Ooh, tough guy!

 

- I'm a Little Leaguer!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Wait a minute.

 

Everybody pays the toll.

 

- Stuff it, zitface.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Why, you little--

 

- Hey!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ice, here. Pig out.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, Dani, let's go.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

jerk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And Hollywood,

 

the shoes fit great!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- You should've punched him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He would've killed me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- At least you would've died like a man.

 

- Hey!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You just humiliated me in front

 

of half the guys at school!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So collect your candy

 

and get out of my life!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I wanna go home now!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- Hi. Hi. Ooh, there's plenty--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Dani, I'm sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Trick or treat!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's just that

 

I hate this place.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I miss all my friends.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I wanna go home!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, this is your home now,

 

so get used to it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Trick or treat!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Give me one more chance?

 

- Why should I?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Because I'm your brother.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa. Check that out.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Something just few

 

across the moon.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Fooled ya.

 

- Let's go,jerkface.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- Trick or treat!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Wow!

 

- Wow!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Check out this house!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ehh. Rich people.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They'd probably make us

 

drink cider and bob for apples.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- My accountant suggested penny stocks.

 

- Yeah.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Trick or treat!

 

- Trick or treat!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Jackpot!

 

- Ahh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max Dennison.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Allison!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh. Allison, hmm?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I thought you weren't

 

into Halloween.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm not. I'm, I'm just taking

 

my little sister Dani around.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's nice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I always do it.

 

- My parents made him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you guys want some cider?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- No.

 

- Sure.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Ah, yes.

 

- Oh, I had my eye on that.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thanks.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So, um, how's the party?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Boring. It'sjust a bunch of my parents'

 

friends. They do this every year.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I've got candy duty.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- By the way, Dani, I love your costume.

 

- Thank you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I really like yours too.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Of course, I couldn't wear anything

 

like that because I don't have any--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What do you call 'em, Max?

 

Yabos?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max likes your yabos.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

In fact, he loves 'em.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I'm really into witches.

 

- Really? Me too.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We just learned about

 

those sisters in school.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, you mean

 

the Sanderson Sisters?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I know all about them.

 

My mom used to run the museum.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There's a museum about 'em?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, but they shut it down because, um,

 

a lot of spooky things happened there.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, wh-why don't we go to

 

this old Sanderson house?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, come on,

 

make a believer out of me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay, let me get changed.

 

They'll never miss me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max, I'm not going up there.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My friends at school told me all

 

about that place. It's weird!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Dani, this is the girl

 

of my dreams.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- So? Take her to the movies

 

like a normal person.

 

- Dani!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Look,just--just do

 

this one thing for me,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

and I'll do anything you say.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Please?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Please? Please?

 

- Oh-- Okay. Okay.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Next year we go trick-or-treating

 

as Wendy and Peter Pan.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

With tights, or it's no deal.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay, okay. Deal. Deal. Fine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Legend has it that the bones

 

of a hundred children were

 

buried within these walls.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, great.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ecch.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I can't see a thing.

 

- Ooh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, there's a light switch

 

around here somewhere.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Found a lighter.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Here's the original cauldron.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And upstairs

 

is where they slept.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, and be careful where you

 

step. The foors are old.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

''This is the spell book

 

of Winifred Sanderson.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It was given to her

 

by the devil himself.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The book is bound

 

in human skin...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

and contains the recipes for her

 

most powerful and evil spells.''

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I get the picture.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's that?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh. It's the black fame candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hmm. Black fame candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

'' Made from the fat of a hangman.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Legend says that on a full moon it

 

will raise the spirits of the dead...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

when lit by a virgin

 

on Halloween night.''

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So let's light the sucker

 

and meet the old broads.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Will you do the honors?

 

- No, thanks.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Stupid cat!

 

- Okay, Max, you've had your fun.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's time to go.

 

Come on, Allison.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max, she's right. Let's go.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, come on. It's just

 

a bunch of hocus pocus.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max, I'm not kidding this time.

 

It's time to go!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max, no!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Uh-oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What happened?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A virgin... lit the candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We are home!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, sweet revenge!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you see, sisters?

 

My curse worked perfectly!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's because thou art perfect.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I knew I left this cauldron on.

 

Didn't I tell you? Oh, I knew it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My lucky rat tail!

 

just where I left it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But who lit

 

the black fame candle? Hmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Wake up. Wake up, sleepyhead.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, I've missed you.

 

Did you miss me too?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, now,

 

we've got work to do.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winnie.

 

- Yes?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I smell children.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sic 'em!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- It's a little girl.

 

- Mmm!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Seven. Maybe eight.

 

And a half.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ooh, let us play with her!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come, little children

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll take thee away

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- In--

 

- Come out, my dear.

 

We will not harm thee.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We love children!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I thought thou would

 

never come, sisters.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Greetings, little one.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- 'Twas I who brought you back.

 

- Imagine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Such a pretty little...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

child.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Look at her. And she's

 

so well fed, isn't she?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Plump. Plump!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shis-ka-baby.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Tell me, dumpling,

 

what is the year?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

     .

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sisters, we have been gone

 

 OO years.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, Winnie,

 

how time fies, huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When you're dead!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's been great fun, but I--

 

I guess I'd better be going.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, stay for supper.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm-- I'm-- I'm not hungry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, but we are.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Soup!

 

- Hey!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Let go of my little sister.

 

- Roast him, Winnie.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, let me.

 

Let me play with him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You. There.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I haven't lost my touch,

 

sisters. See?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winnie, Winnie--

 

- Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hello. Good-bye.

 

- Hello, hello.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Mary!

 

- Well, hello--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh, my, my, my, my, my.

 

- Don't!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- You leave my brother alone!

 

- Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Max!

 

- I'll get you!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Get him! Get this ani--

 

Get this beast off me!

 

- Max, come on. Let's go!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get out! Go, go, go!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get it off. Ahh-ha-ha-ha-ha!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hey!

 

- Hmm?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You've messed with the

 

great and powerful Max...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

and now must suffer

 

the consequences.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I summon the burning rain

 

of death.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Burning what?

 

- Burning rain of death.

 

- Burning rain of death.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He makes fire in his hand.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh! Ohh! The burning

 

rain of death! Ohh! Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, you idiots!

 

Get under shelter!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, you fools!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Nice going, Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- It's all your fault!

 

- You can talk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah, no kidding.

 

Now, get the spell book.

 

- You idiots!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, move it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

N-N-No, it's not!

 

It's the burning rain of death!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sic 'em! Aah! My book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't! He's going for my book!

 

Ohhh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- My book!

 

- He's got the book!

 

- The book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max! Max, over here!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come on! Come on!

 

- This way!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh! Confound it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winnie!

 

- We are dead!

 

- Shut up!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- It is but water!

 

- Huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Most refreshing.

 

- Ahh. It is.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- You idiot!

 

- Ahhh!

 

- The boy has tricked us!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- And he's stolen the book!

 

- Ahhh!

 

- After him!

 

- Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- 'Tis a b-black river.

 

- Perhaps it is not too deep.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- 'Tis firm!

 

- Careful, Winnie.

 

- Hmm. Mmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- 'Tis firm as stone.

 

- Why-- Why, it's a road!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Firm asstone

 

- Sisters!

 

- Firm asstone

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

 

Come on! This is a graveyard!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's hallowed ground.

 

Witches can't set foot here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- He talks.

 

- Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Follow me!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Over here.

 

I want to show you something.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give you an idea of exactly

 

what we're dealing with.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

''William Butcherson,

 

lost soul''?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Billy Butcherson

 

was Winifred's lover,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

but she found him sporting

 

with her sister Sarah,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

so she poisoned him and sewed

 

his mouth shut with a dull needle...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

so he couldn't tell her

 

secrets even in death.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winifred always was the jealous type.

 

- You're Thackery Binx.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yes.

 

- Huh. So the legends are true.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, come along. I want

 

to show you something else.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Teenagers again.

 

I hate Halloween.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Man, this is the worst night of

 

the year. You wanna give me a hand?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Who-- Who-- Who-- Who are they?

 

- Boys?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Witch hunters. Observe.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They wear black robes and carry

 

axes to chop the wood to burn us.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Hold me.

 

- What a pretty spider.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sisters! Let me make

 

one thing perfectly clear.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The magic

 

that brought us back...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

only works tonight,

 

on All Hallows Eve.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When the sun comes up,

 

we are dust.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Dust?

 

- Toast!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Toast?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Pudding!

 

- Aaah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Fortunately the potion I brewed

 

the night we were hanged...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

will keep us alive

 

and young forever.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Unfortunately the recipe for

 

that potion is in my spell book,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

and the little wretches

 

have stolen it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Therefore, it stands to reason,

 

does it not, sisters dear,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

that we must find the book,

 

brew the potion...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

and suck the lives out of the children

 

of Salem before sunrise.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Otherwise, it's curtains!

 

We evaporate! We cease to exist!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Dost thou comprehend?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You explained it

 

beautifully, Winnie.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The way you sort of started out

 

with the adventure part...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- and then you sort of slowly--

 

- Explained what?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come! We fy!

 

- Fly!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Because of me my little

 

sister's life was stolen.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

For years I waited for my life to end

 

so I could be reunited with my family.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But Winifred's curse

 

of immortality kept me alive.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Then one day I figured out

 

what to do with my eternal life.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Now, I'd failed Emily,

 

but I wouldn't fail again.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When Winifred and her sisters returned,

 

I'd be there to stop them.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So for three centuries I've guarded

 

the house on All Hallows Night,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

when I knew some airhead virgin

 

might light that candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Nice going, airhead.

 

- Hey, look, I'm sorry, okay?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We're talking about three ancient hags

 

versus the  Oth century.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- How bad can it be?

 

- Bad.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Stay out of there!

 

- Why?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It holds Winifred's most dangerous

 

spells. She must not get it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, let's torch the sucker.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's protected by magic.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's just a bunch

 

of hocus pocus!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Sarah!

 

- Mmm?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mary.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Max!

 

- Brave little virgin

 

who lit the candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I'll be thy friend.

 

- Hey, take a hike!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ooh! Ouch!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Book!

 

- Huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come to Mommy!

 

- 'Fraid not!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thackery Binx,

 

thou mangy feline!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Still alive?

 

- And waiting for you!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh! Thou hast waited

 

in vain!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And thou will fail

 

to save thy friends,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

just as thou failed

 

to save thy sister!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Grab the book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- They can't touch us here, right?

 

- Well, they can't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't like the way

 

you said that.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Unfaithful lover

 

long since dead,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

deep asleep in thy wormy bed,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

wiggle thy toes,

 

open thine eyes,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

twist thy fingers

 

toward the sky.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Life is sweet.

 

Be not too shy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

On thy feet, so sayeth I!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Max! Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hi. Hello, Billy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Catch those children!

 

Get up!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get up! Get out of that ditch!

 

Faster!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

In here!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Are you okay?

 

- Mm-hmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- What is this place, Binx?

 

- It's the old Salem crypt.

 

- Here, take the book.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- It connects to the sewer

 

and up to the street.

 

- Oh. Uh, charming.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Uh, don't look up, Dani.

 

- Don't worry. I won't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Relax. I've hunted mice

 

down here for years.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Mice?

 

- Oh, God.

 

- Oh, God. Just great.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, cheese and crust!

 

He's lost his head!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ha! Damn that Thackery Binx!

 

Damn him!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Billy, which way did they go?

 

Aaah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Billy, listen to me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Follow those children,

 

you maggot museum, and get my book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Then come find us!

 

We'll be ready for them!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Quit staring at me!

 

Get moving down that hole!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Damn, damn, double damn!

 

- Oh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Broom, ho!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This way!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Broom, ho.

 

- Ahh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're here.

 

I know they're here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I know they're here,

 

but where are they?

 

- Winnie, look.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Sniff them out, Mary.

 

- Uh, they're, they're, uh--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh, I can't. They've gone too far.

 

- Aah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I've lost them!

 

- Aaah!

 

- Aah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll have your guts for garters, girl!

 

Confound you!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Very well.

 

We must outwit them.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- When Billy the butcher

 

gets here with my book,

 

- Book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- we shall be ready for them!

 

- Ready!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Sarah!

 

- Sarah!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Let us start collecting children.

 

- Why?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Because, you great buffoon,

 

we want to live forever,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

not just until tomorrow.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The more children's lives we snatch,

 

the longer we shall live!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Right! Let us fy!

 

- Fly!

 

- Wait!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sisters. I have an idea.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Since this promises to be a most

 

dire and stressful evening,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I suggest we form

 

a calming circle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I am calm!

 

- Oh, sister.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thou art not being honest

 

with thyself, are we? Huh? Huh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on. Come on.

 

Give me a smile.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come along. Not much further.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Let's see. Which way, which way.

 

I can't remember. Oh! Look, down here!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Think soothing thoughts.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Rabid bats.

 

- Yum!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Black death.

 

Mummy's scorpion pie.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Mother.

 

- Mother.

 

- Mother.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Bubble, bubble, I'm in trouble.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Tell me, friend,

 

what is this contraption?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I call it... a bus.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- A bus.

 

- A bus?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- And its purpose?

 

- To convey gorgeous creatures

 

such as yourselves...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

to your most forbidden desires.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, fancy,

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

we desire...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

children.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, that may take me a couple of tries,

 

but I don't think that'd be a problem.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh.

 

- Hop on up.

 

- Marvellous!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thank you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thank you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I need one of those instant ice packs.

 

You girls are giving me a fever! Yeow!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Go, Binx!

 

- Come here, you guys! This way!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hurry! Come on!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Up the ladder!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come on!

 

- Careful.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, buttercup, anybody ever tell you

 

you're very easy on the eyes?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Binx! Look out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoa! Speed bump!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Binx! Ohh!

 

- Speed bump!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, my God.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- No.

 

- It's all my fault.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Max, it's not your fault.

 

- Ohh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Look!

 

- Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I hate it when that happens.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I told you, I can't die.

 

Dani, you all right?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah!

 

- Okay, then, let's go!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stop!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I smell children.

 

- Marvelous.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, hey, cupcake, don't I get

 

your phone number? Your area code?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- You want my route schedule?

 

- Oh, thou wouldst hate me

 

in the morning.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- No, I wouldn’t.

 

- Oh, believe me, thou wouldst.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Party pooper.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What is this, sisters?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Odds bodkins.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Farewell, mortal bus boy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh, my.

 

- What are those? What's that?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Um--

 

- What is that?

 

- Uh, hobgoblins.

 

- Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ohh! Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Bless you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Enough!

 

- Uh, sisters, I'm very confused.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I-- I smell children,

 

but I-- I don't see children.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I-- I've lost my power!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Enough, enough, enough!

 

- Sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- We are witches. We are evil!

 

- Evil.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What would Mother say

 

if she could see us like this?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Mother.

 

- Mother.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Master!

 

- Master!

 

- Master! Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh, my!

 

- He will help us!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- What kind of costumes are these?

 

- Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's the Sanderson Sisters,

 

right?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-At your service.

 

-Yes, yes.

 

-Haven't seen you for centuries.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But what the heck? Why don't you come

 

in? Come in to the non-smoking section.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come on, come on, right this way.

 

- Oh, I can't believe it's him!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't step on my tail!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Officer! Officer!

 

- Officer, we need your help.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's the problem?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Tell him.

 

- Go ahead.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, um--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, you see, for--

 

I just, I just moved here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

W-Well, you see, i-it's like this.

 

I-- I, um--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I broke into the old Sanderson

 

house and I brought the witches

 

back from the dead.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

See, I even have the book.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- You lit the black fame candle?

 

- Yeah.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on. Okay, let's

 

get on the sidewalk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And he's a virgin.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Are you a virgin?

 

- Yeah.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Really.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Look, I'll get it tattooed

 

on my forehead, okay?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Officer, this is not a prank.

 

- Really!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey! I put my life on the line

 

to protect this community,

 

and you punks pull this?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Get outta here.

 

- Come on, Dani.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And take that cat with ya.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- What's so funny, Eddie?

 

- Ahh,just a bunch of kids

 

pullin' my chain.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They thought I was a real cop.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I want you to meet

 

the little woman.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- He has a little woman.

 

- Sounds tasty.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Today--

 

-Swimmingpool, swimmingpool--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Petunia face.

 

- What?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Would you stop clicking?

 

We have company!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I don't care who's here.

 

I'm sick and tired...

 

- Sisters.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- of these dressing-up games.

 

- Satan has married Medusa.

 

See the snakes in her hair?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I don't wanna play in this.

 

I don't wanna play.

 

- Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My three favorite witches.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aren’t you broads a little old

 

to be trick-or-treating?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- We'll be younger in the morning.

 

- Yes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah, sure. Me too.

 

- I went out with him Valentine's Day.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Excuse me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Wow! Neat brooms!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Forget the kids.

 

I'm serving you from my cauldron.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Winnie!

 

- Yes?

 

- For you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Master, I plague thee.

 

What about the book?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We'll get to the book later.

 

Mary, go long!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah! You could be

 

a tight end!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Master, would thou

 

dance with me?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Behold!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A torture chamber.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Honey, I lost five pounds

 

according to the bathroom--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Now there's a Stain master carpet...

 

- Master.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

that handles foot traffic

 

like never before.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay, that's it. Party's over!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get out of my house!

 

Get outta here! Get outta my house!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Sorry.

 

- Calm down, puddin' face.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Shove it, Satan.

 

- Ohh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Thou should not speak to

 

Master in such a manner.

 

- Mm-mmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- They call me Master.

 

- Wait'll you see what

 

I'm gonna call ya.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Now, tart face, take your Clark bars

 

and get out of my house!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Make us!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Yeah!

 

- Honey bunch.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ralph! Sic 'em!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Winnie! Winnie!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- My broom!

 

- My broom!

 

- My broom!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Purloined! Curses!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sisters, look. 'Tis the

 

chocolate-covered finger

 

of a man named Clark.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mmm. Ooh! Ugh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's candy. Why would

 

the master give us candy?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Because he is not our master.

 

- He isn't?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- And these are not hobgoblins.

 

- Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- See?

 

- Ohh!

 

- Cool it, man!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A child! Ohh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Weirdos!

 

- Weirdos!

 

- Sisters!

 

- Mmm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- All Hallows Eve has become

 

a night of frolic...

 

- Oh.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- where children wear costumes

 

and run amok!

 

- Oh!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Amok! Amok, amok,

 

amok, amok, amok--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh, Winnie, just one child.

 

- No!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah, great. How are we ever gonna

 

find Mom and Dad in this place?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hi, hi, hi. Hi.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Owww! Whoo!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Those fingers through my hair

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thatsly ''come hit her''stare

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That strips my conscience bare

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's witchcraft

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I'm gonna look for Mom.

 

- Baby!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-And I got no defense for it

 

- I can't see a thing!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Whoo! Waah! Whoo!

 

- The heat is too intense for it

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What good would

 

common sense for it do

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Aaah!

 

- It's witchcraft

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Oh. Dad!

 

- It's not Dad. It's '' Dadcula.''

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, my goodness. Who must this

 

charming young blood donor be?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Dad! Something terrible

 

happened.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Dani? What's wrong? Wh-Wh--

 

- No, Dani's fine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Good. Excuse me. Come here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mom?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Mom?

 

- Hmm?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What are you supposed to be?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Madonna.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, you know--

 

Well, obviously. Don't ya think?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shoot, Max. Look,

 

whatever it is, just tell me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Come here.

 

- What?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This cat here, Binx, right?

 

He can talk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My brother's a virgin:

 

he lit the black fame candle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The witches are back from the dead

 

and they're after us. We need help.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

How much candy

 

have you had, honey?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mom, I haven't O.D.'d.

 

I haven't even had a piece.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're real witches, they can

 

fy, and they're gonna eat all

 

the kids in Salem. They're real!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right, let's just

 

find your father.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's such an ancient pitch

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But one I wouldn't switch

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- 'Cause there's non icer witch

 

- Slither about.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Find them!

 

- Oh, no, I'll never switch

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Ohh! Aah!

 

- 'Cause there's non icer witch

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Than you

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I put a spell on you

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And now you're mine

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Max, I love you, but enough is enough.

 

- Come on, Dad, if I was

 

gonna pull your chain--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Now, just calm down.

 

- But they're gonna come--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Don't you see how crazy this sounds?

 

- Max! Max!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Max, really--

 

- They're here! They're here!

 

- I ain't gonna take none

 

of your runnin' 'round

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- I ain't gonna take none

 

of your puttin'me down

 

- Did you find them?

 

- Sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

- Get out there and find them.

 

 

 

Edited by Ranger
Converted Hidden tags to Spoiler tags

 💡 The Felights 💡 https://felight.carrd.co/  💡

🪐 Cosmicals: 🔥 Apollo Fire the Sun God (12/3/16) Piano Soul the Star Man (1/26/17)

🐉 Mythicals: ☁️ Indigo Blue the Sky Dragon (10/2/17), 🦑 Gelato Sweet the Sea Monster (12/11/22)

🦇 Nycticals:  Dynamo Lux the Shock Rocker (3/3/17), 🎸 Radio Hiss the Song Demon (2/8/00)

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Spoiler

A Hard Day's Night Script

 

   

 

                   

 

Pardon me for asking, but who's that

 

little old man?

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

-What little old man?

 

-That little old man.

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

-Oh, that one. That's my grandfather.

 

-Your grandfather?

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

-That's not your grandfather.

 

-It is, you know.

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

But I've seen your grandfather.

 

He lives in your house.

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

That's my other grandfather, but he's

 

my grandfather as well.

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

How do you reckon that one out?

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

Everyone's entitled to two, aren't

 

they? And that's my other one.

 

 

 

 

 

                   

 

We know all that, but what's he doing

 

here?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-Mother thought the trip'd do him good.

 

-How's that?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He's nursing a broken heart.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Poor old thing.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Are you nursing a broken heart?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He's a nice old man, isn't he?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He's very clean.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-Hello, Grandfather.

 

-Hello.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He can talk then, can he?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Of course.

 

He's a human being, isn't he?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

If he's your grandfather, who knows?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-And we're looking after him, are we?

 

-I'll look after meself.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He's got you worried, then?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Him? He's a villain, a real mixer.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

And he'll cost you a fortune in breach

 

of promise cases.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-Get on.

 

-No, straight up.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-Hello, Shake.

 

-Hello, Shake.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

You got on all right, then?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

No.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We're here. Norm will be along in a

 

minute with the tickets.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Who's the little old man?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

It's Paul's grandfather.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-But I thought--

 

-No, That's his other one.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Oh, that's all right, then.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Clean though, isn't he?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Aye. He's very clean.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Thank God, you all got here. I've had

 

a marvelous idea.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Once, let's all try to behave like

 

ordinary respectable citizens.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's not cause trouble or pull any

 

strokes.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Or do anything I'd be sorry for inj

 

that television theater.*

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Are you listening to me, Lennon?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

You're a swine. Isn't he, George?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Yeah, a swine.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Thanks.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Hey!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Who's that little old man?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-Well, who is he?

 

-He belongs to Paul.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I'm going down for a cup of coffee.

 

Anyone coming?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We'll follow you down.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-I want me coffee.

 

-You can come with Shake and me.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

And look after him. I don't want to

 

find you've lost him.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Don't be cheeky. I'll bind him to me

 

with promises.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Very clean, isn't he?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Come on, Granddad.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Make up your mind, will you?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Hello. Morning.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

All right.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Do you mind if we have it open?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Yes, I do.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Four of us want it open, if it's all

 

the same to you.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

It isn't. I travel on this train

 

regularly twice a week...

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

...so I suppose I have some rights.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

So have we.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We'll have that thing off as well.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Knowledge of the Railway Acts tell you

 

I'm within my rights.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

But we want to hear it.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

We're a community, majority vote, up

 

the workers and all that stuff.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Then I suggest you take that damn thing

 

into the corridor...

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

...or some other part of the train

 

where you obviously belong.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Give us a kiss.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Look, we paid for our seats too, you

 

know.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I travel on this train regularly,

 

twice a week.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Knock it off, Paul. You can't win

 

with his sort.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

After all, it's his train.

 

Isn't it, mister?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

And don't take that tone with me,

 

young man.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I fought the war for your sort.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I bet you're sorry you won.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-I shall call the guard.

 

-Ah, but what?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

They don't take kindly to insults,

 

you know.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Let's go have some coffee and leave

 

the kennel to Lassie.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Hey, mister, can we have

 

our ball back?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Look, mister!

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Mister, can we have our ball back?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-You want to watch it!

 

-Well, it's not my fault.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-You stick to that story, son.

 

-I can't help it. I'm taller than you.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

They always say that.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I've got me eye on you.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I'm sorry, Norm. I can't help being

 

taller than you.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Don't rub it in. I've a good mind to

 

thump you, Shake.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

If you have a barney, can I hold your

 

coat?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-He started it.

 

-I did not, you did.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

What happened?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

The old fellow said could he have

 

these pictures and Norm said no.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I said "Why not be big about it?"

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

And?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

Your grandfather said that Shake was

 

always being taller just to spite me.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

I knew it. He started it.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

-I should've known.

 

-You what?

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

You two never argue and in two minutes

 

flat he's got you at it.

 

 

 

  

 

                   

 

He's a king mixer.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He hates group unity, so he gets

 

everyone at it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I suggest you just give him the photos

 

and have done with it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right, you old devil.

 

Here you are.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, Pauly, would you ever sign

 

one of them for us?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, Shake.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, look at the talent.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Let's give them a pull.

 

-Should l?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't rush. None of your five-bar gate

 

jumps.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's that supposed to mean?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't know. I thought it just

 

sounded distinguished.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

George Harrison, The Scouse of

 

Distinction.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Excuse me, madam.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

These young men I'm with wondered if

 

two of us could come over and join you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'd ask you meself only I'm shy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm sorry, miss. You mustn't

 

fraternize with me prisoners.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Prisoners?

 

-Convicts in transit.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Typical old lags, the lot of them.

 

-You what?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get out, ladies! Get out, while you

 

can!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

SON OF MAD

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's been gone a long time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Who?

 

-Paul's grandfather.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I didn't notice. Where did he go?

 

-Down the, uh....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Oh, down the, uh....

 

-Yeah. Down the, uh....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give him a couple of minutes, then.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, have you seen Paul's grandfather?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Of course. He's concealed about me

 

person.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He must have slipped off somewhere.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Have you lost him?

 

-Don't exaggerate.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You've lost him!

 

-Look, put it this way, Pauly....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's mislaid him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Honest, you can' t trust you with

 

anything, Norm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-If you've lost him, I'll cripple you.

 

-He can't have gone far.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come, lads, let's look up the sharp

 

end.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's the matter with you, then?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's his grandfather. He doesn't like

 

me 'cause I'm little.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You've got an inferiority complex.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's why I play the drums. It's me

 

active compensatory factor.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Going in, then?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No. She'll only reject me in the end

 

and I'll be frustrated.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You may be lucky this time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, I know the psychological pattern.

 

It plays havoc with me drum skins.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You seen that old man we were with?

 

-We've broken out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The blessed freedom of it all.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Have you got a nail file?

 

These handcuffs are killing me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I was framed. I'm innocent.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sorry for disturbing you girls.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I bet you can't guess what I was in for.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Should we go in here?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, it's probably a honeymoon couple or

 

a company director.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't care. I'm going to broaden me

 

outlook.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Congratulate me, boys. I'm engaged.

 

-Oh, no you're not.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And to think me own grandson would've

 

let them put me behind bars.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't dramatize. You're lucky

 

to be here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If they'd have had their own way you'd

 

have been dropped off already.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You've got to admit you've upset

 

a lot of people.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

At least I can keep my eye on you while

 

you're stuck in here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shove up.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Odds or evens?

 

-Odds.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't worry, son. We'll get the best

 

lawyer green stamps can buy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's a laugh a line with Lennon.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Anyway, it's your fault.

 

-Why me?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Why not you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

God, it's depressing in here, isn't it?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Funny. They usually reckon dogs more

 

than people in England.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You'd expect something more palatial.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Let's do something, then.

 

-Like what?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Okay.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There's the girls.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll deal.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The Liverpool Shuffle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

  for you,   for me,   for him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-He's wearing his lucky rings.

 

-All mine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They won't buy you happiness, my son.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey! Don't move, any of you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They've gone potty out there. The

 

place is surging with girls.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Please, sir, can I have one?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, you can't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When I tell you, get out through this

 

door into that big car that's waiting.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, lads! Go ahead!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I don't snore.

 

-You do. Repeatedly.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Do I snore, John?

 

-Yeah. You're a window rattler, son.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's just your opinion. Do I snore,

 

Paul?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

With a trombone hooter like yours it

 

would be unnatural if you didn't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, Pauly. Don't mock the afflicted.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come off it. It's only a joke.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It may be a joke, but it's his nose.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He can't help having a hideous,

 

great hooter.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And the poor little head trembling

 

under the weight of it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John, Paul, George, come on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get at it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The income tax caught up with us at

 

last.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-None for me, then?

 

-Sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This will keep you busy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's your nose, you know. Fans are

 

funny that way.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They take a dislike to things. They'll

 

pick on a nose.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You pick on your own.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Are those yours?

 

-No. They're for Ringo.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It must have cost you a fortune

 

in stamps, Ringo.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He comes from a large family.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's The Circle Club?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

"The Circle Club requests the company

 

of Mr. Richard Starkey"...that's you--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

"...to their gaming rooms. Chemin de

 

fer, baccarat and champagne buffet."

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-They want me.

 

-It's got round you're a big spender.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're not going.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Quite right. Invites to gambling dens

 

full of easy money and fast women...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...chicken sandwiches and cornets of

 

caviar. Disgusting.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's mine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get your pens out.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Why?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's homework time for you load of

 

college puddings.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I want this lot answered tonight.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I want to go out.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

'll brook no denial.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You couldn't get a pen in your foot,

 

you swine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Chatter on, son, chatter on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A touch of the writer's cramp will soon

 

sort you out. Come on, Shake.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

For now, then.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Where you going, then?

 

-He told us to stay, didn't he?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Come, lad.

 

-What?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I just got to get me jacket.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Couldn't we get a taxi?

 

-No, we couldn't get a taxi.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come in.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll clear up, sir.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Suivez.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Alors, monsieur?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Soufflé.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I bet you're a great swimmer.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My turn?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Bingo!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Pas "Bingo", monsieur. "Banco."

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll take the little darlings anyway.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Two and one are three, carry one is

 

four.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Bingo!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The manager!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Now, come on you lot,

 

get on with it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-We were gonna do them, but you know.

 

-Aye. Well, now, now, now!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm starting.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey? Any of you lot put a man in the

 

cupboard?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, somebody did.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's right, you know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There you go.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's all this?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, him. He's been lurking.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He looks a right lurker, doesn't he?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're undressed.

 

Where are your clothes?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, the old gentlemen, he borrowed

 

them to go gambling at the Circ'.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-He's gone to my club, has he?

 

-Yeah. It's all your fault.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What?

 

-Getting invites to gambling clubs.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's probably in the middle of some

 

orgy by now.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Orgy!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Yeah, but what about me?

 

-You're too old.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Encore du champagne, monsieur?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, yeah. And I'll have some more

 

champagne as well.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Lord John McCartney, millionaire,

 

lrish peer, filthy rich, of course.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't know.

 

He looks quite clean to me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Try to act with a bit of decorum.

 

This is a posh place.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We know how to behave.

 

We've had lessons.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm sorry, sir, members and invited

 

guests only.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aye, well, uh....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm with them. I'm Ringo's sister.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Have you got a little old man here?

 

-Do you mean Lord McCartney?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's at it again. I'm his grandfather.

 

I mean....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It must be the dolly floor show.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Put me down!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Who are these ruffians?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Before you go, gentlemen, there's the

 

little matter of the bill.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll take care of that.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-A hundred and eighty pounds?!

 

-I beg your pardon, guineas.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Your winnings, my Lord,

 

one hundred and ninety pounds.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What about me change?

 

-Cloak room charge.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah, well, easy come, easy go.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ah, the filthy Englander.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Keep boating, Tiny.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Go on, George.

 

-Don't be ridiculous.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-But you said I could.

 

-Me mind boggles at the very idea.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A grown man and you haven't shaved

 

with a safety razor.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's not my fault. I come from a long

 

line of electricians.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Well, you're not practicing on me.

 

-All right, then. But show us.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, then.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Rule Britannia! Britannia, rule the--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Put your tongue away. It looks

 

disgusting hanging there.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

One slip of the razor and....

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Henreich! Headphones!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Help!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Torpedoed again, eh?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The car's waiting to take you to the

 

studio. Where's John?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

In the bath.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right, Lennon, let's have you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, John, stop larking about.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John? John?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What are you messing around

 

with that boat for?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There's a car waiting. Come on!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ready, John? As soon as we draw up,

 

open that door and straight in.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Can't be waiting much longer.

 

-I knew they'd be late.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's your press conference.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where have you been?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give us a couple of shakes

 

to get our breath.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give us a shout when it's over.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I have a suit just like him, you know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This lot means it.

 

They're even taking hostages.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't like the handkerchief.

 

I have it in me trouser pocket.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You can't blow your nose on it up

 

there, can you, mister?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, you can't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I've always liked that question.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I never notice his nose

 

till about six months ago.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Me mother asked me before we left for

 

America if we wanted any sandwiches.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And when I plugged her in

 

she just blew up.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Tell me, how did you find America?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Turn left at Greenland.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Has success changed your life?

 

-Yes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'd like to keep Britain tidy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Are you a mod or a rocker?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Um, no. I'm a mocker.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Have you any hobbies?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, actually we're just

 

good friends.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you think these haircuts

 

have come to stay?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, this one has, you know, it's

 

stuck on good and proper now.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Frightfully nice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What would you call that hairstyle?

 

-Arthur.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, actually we're just good friends.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yours are brown, aren't they?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What do you call that collar?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, a collar.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Do you often see your father?

 

-No, actually we're just good friends.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

How do you like your girlfriends

 

to dress?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That was a drag. I'm starving.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Didn't even get a jam butty. Did you?

 

-No.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Anything left?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We just finished, Pauly.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hey, George, give us your John Henry

 

on that picture.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Look at that!

 

-What's there?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-It's our set down there.

 

-Should we go down and have a go?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-There's trees and everything.

 

-That's a lot of fellows for one set.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-That's not a tree.

 

-It is.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's a bird.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Just passing through.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Where are they?

 

-On the stage. Down here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Leave them drums alone.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Surely, I could have

 

just a little touch.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You so much as breathe,

 

I'm out on strike.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aren't you being rather arbitrary?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There you go. Hiding behind a smoke

 

screen of bourgeois clichés.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't go messing about with your

 

earphones, do l?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Spoilsport.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's very fussy about his drums, you

 

know. They loom large in his legend.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What's up?

 

-He's sulking again.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll show him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Pardon, Tiny.

 

I'd like more drums there.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I think it's on the third bit.

 

-It sounds like a cover.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

On the third bit, more bang!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right, let's hear no more about it.

 

You're probably right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Look.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If you think I'm unsuitable, let's be

 

open. I can't stand backstage politics.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aren't you tending to black-and-white

 

the situation somewhat?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, quite honestly, I wasn't

 

expecting a musical arranger...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...to question my ability

 

picture- wise.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I could listen to him for hours.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's all this about

 

a musical arranger?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Mr. McCartney, Sr.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Pauly, they're trying to fob you off

 

with this musical charlatan...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...but I gave him the test.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm quite happy to be replaced.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's a typical buck-passer.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I won an award.

 

-A likely story.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's on the wall in my office.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hello, our lot. Everybody happy?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right. If you don't need them,

 

I'll lock them up in the dressing room.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Please do. I'll not need them for half

 

an hour. Thank you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get me a bottle of milk and some

 

tranquilizers.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's a I see it all now. It's a plot.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Tranquilizers.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, I've got the key.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, Ringo.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Leslie Jackson?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I saw your father in the old Empire

 

in      .

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If you're as good as him, son,

 

you're all right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Gear costume.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Swap?

 

-Cheeky.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, lads.

 

No messing about.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Lennon, put them girls down

 

or I'll tell your mother.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stop messing about.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stay in here until that rehearsal.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If I have to, I'll put the key in the

 

lock and turn it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We're out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I suppose you realize

 

this is private property.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sorry we hurt your field, mister.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Not here.

 

Hello, Dicky.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Probably gone to the canteen.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, that's too easy for Lennon.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's out there somewhere

 

causing trouble, just to upset me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're imagining it,

 

letting it prey on your mind.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, this is a battle of nerves

 

between John and me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John hasn't got any.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What?

 

-Nerves.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, that's just the trouble.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I've toyed with the idea

 

of a ball and chain...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...but he'd just rattle them at me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sometimes I think he enjoys

 

seeing me suffer.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Hello!

 

-Hello.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Don't tell me you're--

 

-No, I'm not.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You are.

 

-I'm not.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I know you are.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm not, no.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You look just like him.

 

-Do l?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're the first one

 

that's said that, ever.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes, you do. Look.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, my eyes are lighter.

 

All right, Noddy.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-The nose.

 

-Yes, your nose is, very.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Is it?

 

-I would have said so.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You know him better.

 

-He's only a casual acquaintance.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-That's what you say.

 

-What have you heard?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-It's all over the place.

 

-Is it really?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But I wouldn't have it.

 

I stuck up for you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I knew I could rely on you.

 

-Thanks.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You don't look like him at all.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

She looks more like him than I do.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There will be a full rehearsal

 

in ten minutes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ten minutes from now,

 

a full rehearsal.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There you are.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sorry, I must have made a mistake.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, you're just late. Actually, I

 

think he'll be very pleased with you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Really?

 

-You're quite a feather in the cap.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I've got one.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I think so.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes, he can talk.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No, and I think

 

you ought to see him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You don't see many of these nowadays,

 

do you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Simon, will this do?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Not bad, dolly, not really bad.

 

Turn around, chicky baby.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's a definite poss.

 

He'll look good alongside Susan.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This will be quite painless. Don't

 

breathe on me, Adrian.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm terribly sorry, but there seems to

 

be some sort of misunderstanding.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You can come off it with us.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't do all the old adenoidal glottal

 

stop and carry on for our benefit.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm afraid I don't understand.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-My God, he's a natural.

 

-I told them not to send real ones.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They know by now, the phonies

 

are much easier to handle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Still, he's a good type.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We'd like you to give us your opinion

 

on some clothes for teenagers.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

By all means, I'd be quite prepared

 

for that eventuality.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Not your real opinion.

 

You'll learn it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Can he read?

 

-Of course I can.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I mean lines.

 

Can you handle lines?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll have a bash.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Give him whatever it is they drink,

 

a cokerama?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ta.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

At least he's polite.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Show him the shirts. Adrian.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You'll like these.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You'll really dig them. They're fab

 

and all the other pimply hyperboles.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I wouldn't be seen dead in them.

 

They're dead grotty.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Grotty?

 

-Yeah, grotesque.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Make a note of that word

 

and give it to Susan.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's rather touching, really.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This kid is trying to give me his

 

utterly valueless opinion...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...when I know that within a month...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...he'll be suffering from a violent

 

inferiority complex...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...and loss of status because he isn't

 

wearing one of these nasty things.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Of course they're grotty, you wretched

 

nit! That's why they were designed.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-But that's what you'll want.

 

-I won't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You can be replaced, chicky baby.

 

-I don't care.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And that pose is out too, Sunny Jim.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The new thing is to care passionately

 

and be right wing.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Anyway, if you don't cooperate, you

 

won't meet Susan.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And who's this Susan when she's at

 

home?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Only Susan Campey,

 

our resident teenager.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You'll have to love her.

 

She's your symbol.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You mean that posh bird who gets

 

everything wrong?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I beg your pardon?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The lads frequently sit round the

 

television and watch her for a giggle.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Once we wrote these letters saying how

 

gear she was and all that rubbish.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

She's a trendsetter.

 

It's her profession.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

She's a drag. A well-known drag.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We turn the sound down on her

 

and say rude things.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Get him out of here.

 

-Have I said something amiss?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's mocking the program's image.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Sorry about the shirts.

 

-Get him out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You don't think he's a new phenomenon,

 

do you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You mean an early clue to the new

 

direction?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where's the calendar?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No. It's all right. He's just a

 

troublemaker.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The change isn't due

 

for three weeks yet.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All the same, make a note not to extend

 

Susan's contract.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Let's not take

 

any unnecessary chances.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So I explained to my mommy

 

he was a very clean man.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There's no one here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where have they gone?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Surely, that's wrong, isn't it?

 

Not you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get him out!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Someone's coming! Quick, hide!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stop being taller than me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's not my fault.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Right on time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What are you doing here?

 

-Hiding.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You must be soft or something.

 

-We weren't hiding. We were resting.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I thought I told you lot to stay here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When I say stay put, I mean stay put.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't cane me, sir. I was led astray.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shut up, John. They're waiting for you

 

in the studio.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Gear, I'm dying to do a bit of work.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

God bless you, Ringo.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Teacher's pet.

 

-Crawler.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Betrayed the class, eh?

 

-Lay off.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Temper!

 

-Well!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Get a move on,

 

they're waiting for you!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sorry.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I now declare this bridge open.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where are they?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where are they?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where are they?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're coming.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're coming. I promise you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If they're not on this floor in

 

thirty seconds there'll be trouble.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Understand me?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Trouble.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Standing about?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Some people have it dead easy.

 

-Once your over thirty, your past it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's a young man's medium. I just

 

can't stand the pace.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-As young as that, then?

 

-I was.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There he goes. Look at him. Bet his

 

wife doesn't know about her.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If he's got one.

 

Look at his sweater.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You never know.

 

She might have knitted it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

She knitted him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Run through your number and try

 

not to jiggle out of position.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Hello, three? Coming to you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Three? Three?

 

Coming to you. Three?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We are on three.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What?

 

-We're on three.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Oh, yes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Music.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Thank you. Very nice.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Make-up?

 

-Not really. They don't need any.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-We'll powder them off for the shine.

 

-Yes.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Norm, take them down to Make-up and

 

powder them off. The shine, you know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sure.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You blinked!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Your grandfather's not talking to me.

 

I think he's got a sulk on.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It must be catching on. He's given it

 

to Ringo here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Stop picking on him.

 

-I don't need you to protect me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Got a touch of the swine fever,

 

haven't you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come on, lads. Sit down.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This is impossible. We'll never get

 

them all done in time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Then do us first. It doesn't matter to

 

them whether they're made up or not.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

By the way, what's that?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

My name's Betty.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you want a punch

 

up your frogged tunic?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John, behave yourself or I'll murder

 

you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shake, take that wig off.

 

It suits you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ringo, what are you up to?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Page five.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You always fancied yourself as a

 

guardsman, didn't you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

"That this too too solid flesh would

 

melt."

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You won't interfere with the rugged

 

concept of my personality, will you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

QUEEN

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's reading "The Queen". That's an

 

in-joke, you know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's my considered opinion that you're

 

a bunch of sissies.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're just jealous.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Leave him alone, Lennon, or I'll tell

 

them all the truth about you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You wouldn't.

 

-I would, though.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Lookit, I thought I was supposed to be

 

getting a change of scenery...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...and so far I've been in a train and

 

a room...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...and a car and a room and a room and

 

a room.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Maybe that's all right for a bunch of

 

powdered gewgaws like you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But I'm feeling decidedly

 

straight-jacketed.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What a clean old man.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't press your luck.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He's sex-obsessed. The older generation

 

leading this country to galloping ruin.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's a pretty girl like you doing in

 

a place like this?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're nearly ready for you, lads.

 

Just finishing the band call.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I say, did you go to Harrod's?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I was there in fifty-eight, you know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I can get you on the stage.

 

-How?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Turn right at the corridor and go past

 

the fireplace.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't like yours.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Kids, I got an idea.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Why don't we do the show right here?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Two, three, four.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Very good, that, George.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We're trying.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You're trying. Let's go.

 

-That was great, lads.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You've got about an hour, but don't

 

leave the theater.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where are you going, John?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

She's gonna show me

 

her stamp collection.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So's mine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

John, I'm talking to you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

This final run-through is important,

 

understand? lmportant!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I want a cup of tea!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shake?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I gotta adjust the decibels on the

 

imbalance, Norm.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Clever. George?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ringo, look after him, will you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Aw, Norm!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do I have to raise my voice?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All right. Come on, Granddad.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm a drummer, not a wet nurse.

 

Why does it have to be me?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Look at him sitting there with his

 

hooter scraping away at that book.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Well, what's the matter with that?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Have you no natural resources

 

of your own?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Have they even robbed you of that?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You can learn from books.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You can, can you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sheeps heads!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You could learn more by getting out

 

there and living.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Out where?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Any old where!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

But not our little Richard. Oh, no.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When you're not thumping them pagan

 

skins...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...you're tormenting your eyes with

 

that rubbish.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Books are good.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Parading's better.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Parading?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Parading the streets...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...trailing your coat, bowling along,

 

living!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Well, I am living.

 

-You? Living?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When was the last time you gave

 

a girl a pink-edged daisy?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When did you last embarrass a sheila

 

with your...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...cool appraising stare?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're a bit old for that sort of chat,

 

aren't you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

At least I've got a backlog of

 

memories.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

All you've got is that book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stop picking on me. You're as bad as

 

the rest of them.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

So you are a man after all!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What's that mean?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you think I haven't noticed?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you think I wasn't aware of the

 

drift?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You poor, unfortunate scruff.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They've driven you into books with

 

their cruel, unnatural treatment...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...exploiting your good nature.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I don't know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Sure, that lot's never happier unless

 

they're jeering you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where'd they be without the steady

 

support of your drum beat...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...that's what I'd like to know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, that's right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

And what's it all come to in the end?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, what's in it for me?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A book.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, a blooming book!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

When you could be out there betraying

 

a rich American widow...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...or sipping palm wine in Tahiti

 

before you're too old like me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Funny, being middle-aged and old...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...takes up most of your time,

 

doesn't it?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're only right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where are you going?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm going parading

 

before it's too late.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Do you know what just happened to me?

 

-No, I don't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Stop looking so scornful.

 

It's twisting your face.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Tell you about--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Here he is, the middle-aged boy wonder.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I thought you were looking after the

 

old man.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We've only half an hour till the final

 

run-through. He can't walk out on us.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Can't he? He's done it, son.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You know what happened?

 

-We know.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Your grandfather stirred him up.

 

-He hasn't.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yeah, he filled his head with notions,

 

seemingly.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

The old mixer! Come on, we'll have to

 

put him right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Can we have all dancers on stage for

 

rehearsal, please?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Split up and look for him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We've become a limited company.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'll look in here again.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

WE BUY ANYTHING

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Hello, there.

 

-Get out of it, Shorty.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You should have more sense than

 

to go round chucking bricks about!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Southerner!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's my hoop!

 

Stop playing with it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That no hoop, it's a lethal weapon.

 

Have you got a license for it?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Don't be so stroppy!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

A boy your age bowling hoops

 

at people.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-How old are you?

 

-Eleven.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I bet you're only ten and a half.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ten and two-thirds.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

There you are, then, and don't be

 

bowling people.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You can have it. I'm packing it in.

 

It depresses me.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You what?

 

-It gets on me wick.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Why aren't you at school?

 

-I'm a deserter.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Are you, now?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-I've blown school out.

 

-Just you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

No. Ginger, Eddie Fallon

 

and Ding Dong.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Ding Dong bell, eh?

 

-That's right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They were supposed to come with us,

 

but they chickened.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're your mates?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Not much cop without them, is it?

 

-It's all right.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

What're they like?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Ginger's mad.

 

He says things all the time.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Eddie's good at spitting and punching.

 

-How about Ding Dong?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

He fancies himself. It's all right

 

though, he's one of the gang.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Why aren't you at work?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm a deserter, too.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Charlie!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

See you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Come in, number seven,

 

your time's up!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I'm sorry, boys. I didn't mean it,

 

honest.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If he says that again,

 

I'll strike him.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

They're good lads.

 

They'll be back.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes, but we've only twenty minutes to

 

the final run-through.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

I meant no harm. I was trying to

 

encourage Ringo to enjoy himself.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

God knows what you've unleashed

 

on the unsuspecting South.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It'll be wine, women and song all the

 

way when he gets the taste for it.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That was fresh this morning.

 

Two and nine.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Right! On your way!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You what?

 

-You heard.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

On your way, troublemaker.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Watch it!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-What?

 

-Worry, will you?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

That's it, two minutes to the final

 

run-through.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-They're bound to miss it now.

 

-I'll murder that Lennon!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-We could survive a missed run-through.

 

-As long as they head up for the show?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You're right, I wouldn't do

 

to miss the show.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Shut up, cheerful.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You don't think--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Don't worry.

 

-They can't do this to me!

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

It's all your fault.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Me?

 

-Yes, it is.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

If they don't turn up, I wouldn't be in

 

your shoes--

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

For all the tea in

 

China. Neither would l.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-You dirty traitor!

 

-Well, of course.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes, of course.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-Did you want something?

 

-I could eat the lot of you.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

You'd look great

 

with an apple in your gob.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Do you realize you could have missed

 

the final run-through?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We're sorry about that.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Norm? There's only three of them.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We were looking for Ringo, but we

 

realized he must have come back here.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Would you realize that

 

we're on the air...

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

...live, in front of an audience in   

 

minutes and you're one short?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Control yourself.

 

He must be here somewhere.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

We'll look in the dressing room.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Yes, to the dressing rooms.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Where's me grandfather?

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

-He can look after himself.

 

-I suppose so.

 

 

 

   

 

                   

 

Personally signed and hand-written by

 

 

Edited by Ranger
Converted Hidden tags to spoiler tags

 💡 The Felights 💡 https://felight.carrd.co/  💡

🪐 Cosmicals: 🔥 Apollo Fire the Sun God (12/3/16) Piano Soul the Star Man (1/26/17)

🐉 Mythicals: ☁️ Indigo Blue the Sky Dragon (10/2/17), 🦑 Gelato Sweet the Sea Monster (12/11/22)

🦇 Nycticals:  Dynamo Lux the Shock Rocker (3/3/17), 🎸 Radio Hiss the Song Demon (2/8/00)

Fun activities to do with family or friends: Render a fractal for two hours for no reason. Watch it together until it finishes.

if you wanna contact me, i check discord weekly, and always will

Give it time Bre!

 

"Tulper"

1 + 1 is maths. Maths, is actually the incorrect spelling. It is actually spelt MAFFZ. Watermelon is a vegetable and octopi is not the proper plural form of octopus. When using an exercise bike, it is important to make sure your left foot stays in the pedal and doesn't slip out while the pedals are still rotating so the pedal your foot slipped out of hits you in the leg. Also make sure this does not happen more than once.

 

Wow. I wrote some things which are true and some which aren't. Guess which is which if you want.

Goats are the most intelligent creatures on the planet, so much so they'll never admit to it, cause they know what'll happen if they did. What's that? Idk, i'm not a goat, i'm a bear.

Namez.thumb.png.4675e747764e9f91e8763bf4bcacfbaf.png

Note: I'm hit-or-miss activity-wise on this account. I may not respond to PMs for awhile.

 

I'm Ranger, GrayTheCat's cobud (tulpa), and I love hippos! I also like cake and chatting about stuff. I go by Rosalin or Ronan sometimes. You can call me Roz but please don't call me Ron.

My other headmates have their own account now, but it's outdated and I can't be bothered to update it

 

If I missed seeing your art, please PM/DM me!

Bre Translator | Cobud Carrd | Art Thread | Old Blogs 1 2 | Switching Log | Tumblr | Yay!

Ranger starts and ends with R. Actually that's false, it starts with R and ends with r.

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