Archives, eh
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# More Music
SCENE: A casually dressed man pilots a trolley with bent sides, broken handle and one wheel that wobbles when it touches the floor at all. He is walking through the aisles of a modern supermarket, with clean, white floors and brilliantly colourful produce. He strains visibly just to keep the trolley straight; turning corners is all but impossible, requiring a full stop while the trolley is pivoted to face the new direction. Light music plays over the public announcement system: laa laa la laaaaah.
The man consults a list of products that he requires and carefully selects goods from the shelves. He occasionally asks staff members who are restocking the shelves – despite the crowded aisles – if they could move aside so he might select an item from the shelf behind them. Boxes line the floor next to the shelves, effectively narrowing the aisles to a little more than half their normal width, requiring the man to wait many times for a stocky couple to move aside; many times he has to break into their conversation and excuse himself to continue forward.
FADE.
The man waits at checkouts while cashier runs groceries through scanner; the older lady who is operating the scanner is quite deliberate, taking care to carefully pack the scanned goods into the man’s shopping bags. She occasionally takes several items out of a bag to ensure a newly scanned item is packed just so. Man checks watch. Soon the cashier picks up an item that the scanner will not recognise. She scans it once, twice, thrice, four times. Again. Again. Again. The man’s left eyes twitches once. The lady attempts to enter te key code for the item into her register, but it beeps instead. She tries again and again mis-enters the code and the register beeps loudly. Behind her, another register has been left open too long while the young cashier chats to her customer, obviously a friend. The older cashier reaches for her microphone and requests assistance. Enya starts to sing Orinoco Flow on the PA system. The cashier turns to the man to apologise and… A 7 and a half foot tall werewolf, standing bipedally because it is in its hybrid form, lashes out and rips her throat open. She desperately reaches up to stem the blood that spurts, but she is already weakening. She stumbles back against the younger cashier, who shrugs her away impatiently and continues to chat with her friend. The werewolf leaps over the register and rips her abdomen open, feasting on the glistening purple tubes that spill out.
Hans, dressed in black turtleneck, puts a magazine back in the rack, peers at the goods before the register and selects a brightly coloured boxes featuring a cartoonish werewolf on the front with a bowl and spoon in hand.
Hans: Entrails. It is what is for breakfast, ja?
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# The ideal use for That Music
SCENE: Attractive, slim natural blonde women dressed in white suit opens a metal-clad door and enters a white room. She turns on the lights and starts to go about her morning. The camera tracks her as she walks through rooms allowing us to we identify the building as a laboratory. White walls and strong overhead lighting washes out colour leaving the woman’s lipstick as the only contrasting shade. We can hear music, laa laa la laaaaah, playing by a building wide sound system, assesed and chosen by a commitee of clinical psychologists to ensure peaceful serenity and productivity in the workplace. Woman goes into kitchenette and makes coffee. Shot of her, taking her first sip and she visibly reacts, a sense that all is well again now that caffeine is surging through her system.
The woman turns around and a 7 and a half foot tall werewolf, standing bipedally because it is in its hybrid form, lashes out and rips her throat open. Crimson blood splashes across the cupboards. Her mouth opens to scream, but no sound comes out because the initial attack has torn out her windpipe. The werewold makes no sound, but knocks her to the floor and rips her abdomen open. Purple, glistening tubes spill out and the werewolf proceeds to eat them. The camera watches the werewolf feed and then shifts to her face. Zoom in to extreme closeup on her eyes, still very much alive and screaming in silent agony. Music plays as scene fades to black.
Studio. Lights rise to reveal Hans, dressed in black turtleneck and sitting on tall wooden stool. Hans stands moves to a table with several brightly coloured boxes featuring a cartoonish werewolf on the front with a bowl and spoon in hand. Hans takes a drag from his cigarette.
Hans: Entrails. It is what is for breakfast, ja?
