It's a full moon, and Stephen King's evil alter ego, Richard Bachman, has escaped!
It’s the night of the full moon, and someone forgot to lock up Stephen King securely. Now Steve’s evil alter ego, Richard Bachman, has escaped! The Pals have no choice but to hear his murder clown hotel story.
CAST
with
Script by Brad Barnes, edited by Bitter Karella and Robin Johnson. Production, audio editing, music and sound design by Robin Johnson. The dialogue editor was Liselle Nic Giollabháin.
A transcript of this episode is available at https://midnight-pals.simplecast.com/episodes/the-tale-of-that/transcript
Content notes: This episode contains raised voices, loud noises, gory noises, swearing, violence and threats of violence, sexual references, and references to vomit, fatphobia, racism, addiction, and clowns.
"Richard Bachman" was a pseudonym used secretly by Stephen King early in his career, in order to release "off-brand" books, the first of which was 1977's Rage. The identity was revealed in 1985, by which time five novels had been written under that name, four of which were then republished together as the collection The Bachman Books; "Bachman" has produced two more books since then. Rumors that Bachman is the true father of Stephen's second son Owen King are wholly unsubstantiated.
SCENE 1--EXT. CAMPFIRE
MATCH STRIKE, LOG BEING ADDED. THEN CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE (FIRE CRACKLE, WIND IN TREES, CRICKETS) FADES IN.
FIRE BEING BUILT. FOOTSTEPS APPROACH
MARY SHELLEY (Rebecca D'Souza): ’Sup--(BEAT) fucker?
EDGAR ALLAN POE (Rodrigo Borges): Evening, Mary.
SHELLEY: Am I early?
POE: No, you’re fashionably late as always. Everyone else is just fashionably later. Cocoa?
HE POURS OUT A CUP OF COCOA
SHELLEY: Sure. [SIPS] Ugh, is there something in this?
POE: No.
SHELLEY: Thought not. [SHE UNSCREWS A HIP FLASK AND POURS BOOZE INTO THE COCOA] Vodka?
POE: C’mon, you know I have problems with alcohol.
SHELLEY: Yeah. Thought you’d appreciate me remembering. Where is everybody?
POE: I have no--
CRASHING BRANCHES, FOOTSTEPS ON DIRT
HP LOVECRAFT (Robin Johnson): GET IT AWAY FROM ME! IT’S DISGUSTING!
POE: --idea.
CLIVE BARKER (David Ault): Go on, take a bite, Howard! You write about them all the time, you gotta try it.
POE: Clive! Let him be.
SHELLEY: Sushi night again?
BARKER: Red octopus nigiri. It’s dinner and a show! Want some?
SHELLEY: Sure. It’s really not bad, Howard. You can feel it squirming on the way down.
LOVECRAFT: Ooh, that part’s tempting. (DISGUSTED) But it’s foreign!
SHELLEY: Enough.
LOVECRAFT: (SQUEAKS)
POE: Have either of you seen Steve and Dean?
BARKER: Nope.
LOVECRAFT: I had my eyes closed.
FOOTSTEPS, BRANCHES
DEAN KOONTZ (Wren Montgomery): I’m here, sorry! I got turned around and wound up at another campfire and they had so many cool dogs. Jack London let me pet his, and--
POE: You wound up at the Wild Bunch camp? Where’s Steve? He’s supposed to make sure you don’t get lost. And it’s his story tonight.
SHELLEY: It’s a full moon, guys.
THIS SEEMS TO MEAN SOMETHING TO EVERYONE EXCEPT LOVECRAFT (AND MAYBE THE AUDIENCE.)
BARKER: Oh. Right.
KOONTZ: Uh oh!
LOVECRAFT: What? So? What’s the big deal about a full moon?
POE: Damn. My fault, I should’ve rescheduled. Dean, why don’t you tell the story instead? How about that one you have about the kid that can see ghosts?
HEAVIER FOOTSTEPS CRASHING THROUGH BUSHES
RICHARD BACHMAN (Jason Robinson): (VOICE SIMILAR TO STEPHEN KING, BUT A BIT HYPER, GRUFFER AND MORE AGGRESSIVE) Hang on a minute there, Eddie, it’s me, your old buddy Rick. And I’ve got the story.
POE: (FRUSTRATED SIGH) Mary, you were supposed to lock him up!
SHELLEY: I did lock him up! No way could he get out of that. Houdini couldn’t have got out of those chains.
LOVECRAFT: Houdini? Did someone say Houdini?
POE: Clive, did you let him out again? It wasn’t funny last time. I had to pay Ernest Hemingway forty dollars for those chickens. And none of you have paid me back!
BARKER: I didn’t let him out!
LOVECRAFT: ’Cause I haven’t seen Houdini for a while and we were supposed to do a collaboration...
SHELLEY: Then who did?
PAUSE
POE: Dean, is there anything you’d like to tell us?
KOONTZ: I--I didn’t mean--I only--he said he needed to use the bathroom.
BARKER: (IRRITABLY) Dean, he’s got a perfectly good drainpipe in that basement.
LOVECRAFT: Who is this guy?
KOONTZ: He promised he’d come and lock himself back up when he was done!
LOVECRAFT: Who is this? It looks like... Steve... but with a beard and crazy eyes. I can tell when you guys aren’t keeping me in the loop on something, you know.
SHELLEY: (SIGH) Shall we tell him?
POE: Howard... that’s not Steve.
LOVECRAFT: What is it, his hobo twin brother?
BARKER: In a way...
POE: Every full moon, Steve turns into his evil counterpart: Richard Bachman.
LOVECRAFT: Richard Bachman?! I thought he was a myth! Something made up by crazy aunts to get their nephews to run away.
POE: So we deal with him the only way that you can with an evil counterpart. By chaining Steve up in the basement, at least until the full moon passes.
LOVECRAFT: So wait… Are you, like, Steve’s evil twin? Or are you the same person? Do you share thoughts? Is this like a werewolf situation or a Jekyll-and-Hyde thing?
BACHMAN: You talk too much, Sweaty Man. You can call me Rick. Move over.
CREAK OF LOGS, SHUFFLING AS BACHMAN SITS DOWN AND HOWARD MAKES ROOM FOR HIM.
LOVECRAFT: Steve’s really... in there?
BACHMAN: Oh, he’s in here, but I’m driving tonight!
LOVECRAFT: I think I prefer regular moon Steve. Those gold chains make you look kinda--
POE: Howard. Look it up in your slur table.
LOVECRAFT: Uh... [UNFOLDING OF PAPER] (TO HIMSELF) here it is. (OUT LOUD) They make you look “urban”.
POE: Much better.
BACHMAN: Easy, amigo. We’re all friends here. Say fella, is that octopus sushi?
BARKER: Yeah.
BACHMAN: Give it here.
LOUD, DISGUSTING EATING NOISES
LOVECRAFT: Ewwww!
BACHMAN: Mmmm, (slurp) yeah that’s good stuff. Now, since I’m here, I got the best story for you. It’s about a game show in a totalitarian future where--
POE: Everybody has to run. We’ve heard that one.
BACHMAN: Yeah, but this one’s about teenagers.
SHELLEY: We’ve heard that one too.
BACHMAN: But this one has an evil dentist--
KOONTZ: Oh! And a singing plant?
BACHMAN: (SUDDENLY FURIOUS) NO! Who asked you, you little dweeb?!
POE: Rick!
KOONTZ: (HURT) I prefer regular moon Steve too.
BACHMAN: Well, Steve’s not here now. And if you care about him... you’ll let ME tell a story for once.
SHELLEY: Or what, Lon Chaney Junior? You can’t hurt Steve without hurting yourself.
BACHMAN: No, but I could sell the movie rights for all his stories to Stanley Kubrick, buy him Yankees season tickets, and tweet from his account that he loves Robert Galbraith’s new Cormorant Shrike book. Then I’ll make some salmon in the microwave.
LOVECRAFT: My God! You fiend!
KOONTZ: You… you wouldn’t really do that to Steve, would you?
BACHMAN: Try me, small fry.
POE: Fine. I guess we have no choice but to let you tell the story.
SHELLEY: Fine.
BARKER: Whatever. As long as you don’t tell Marathon Man again.
LOVECRAFT: Can you take your paw off my leg?
BACHMAN: No. Dean, you throw the Midnight Dust. Eat as much as you want, kiddo.
KOONTZ: I’m not hungry tonight.
BACHMAN: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society. I call this story: “The Tale of That.”
BARKER: The tale of what?
BACHMAN: That.
KOONTZ: What’s that?
BACHMAN: Just listen, it’ll all make sense soon.
FADE.
SCENE 2--INT. SIDEWINDER HOTEL-DAY
FADE IN. HOTEL AMBIENCE (CHATTER FROM GUESTS, PHONES RINGING.)
BACHMAN: (V/O) Our story starts in the deepest, snowiest pass of the Rocky Mountains, where the Sidewinder Hotel sits on the mountainside. For thirty years the building had lain empty, decrepit, alone but for the snow and the wind, until recently it was bought up and refurbished by a mysterious, anonymous individual known only as Pennywise the Scary Clown Monster. Now the new, improved Sidewinder was starting to welcome guests for its first ever winter season! And one of the first to check in was famous fashion designer Beverly Marsh.
FRONT DESK BELL RINGING
BEVERLY (Rayna Mandara): Hello? Is anyone back there? Checking in? Or do you want me to pitch a tent outside? (TO HERSELF) Maybe if I sleep in the hedge maze I won’t freeze.
MR PENNY (Dexter Howard): (OFF) Can’t you read? The sign on the desk, do you see it?
BEVERLY: “Ring bell for service”.
MR PENNY: (OFF) Well, go on! How am I supposed to know you’re there if you don’t ring the bell?
BEVERLY: Fine.
CLOWN NOSE HONK
BEVERLY: Huh. That’s weird.
CLOWN NOSE HONK
BEVERLY: Must be broken.
DOOR OPENING, SQUEAKY CLOWN SHOES
MR PENNY: You honked?
BEVERLY: Oh! Hi. I, uh, didn’t realize this hotel was clown themed.
MR PENNY: Yes, just a bit of friendly competition with the Tonopah Clown Motel. Just as many clowns, but more hauntings! I’m the manager, Mr Penny. Checking in?
BEVERLY: Yes, I have reservations arranged by Ben Hanscom.
MR PENNY: Ah yes, Ben Hanscom, the famous architect! Of this very hotel, in fact!
BEVERLY: He was my old high school sweetheart, you know. Did he come up with the clown theme?
MR PENNY: He thought it would be funny. Now then, I have you right here, in a lovely corner room.
BEVERLY: Does it have a bathtub?
MR PENNY: Shower only.
BEVERLY: Do you have one with? I could use a soak. Long plane ride.
MR PENNY: Let’s see, the closest available would be… Room 217.
CUT TO: CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE (FIRE CRACKLE, WIND IN TREES, CRICKETS. WOLF HOWL.)
POE: This is from one of Steve’s stories.
SHELLEY: Yeah, the one with the bloke that goes all Lizzie Borden.
BARKER: And these characters’ names sound familiar...
BACHMAN: Hey, the longer this takes me, the later we’re out here, and the more likely Sweaty Man gets eaten by wolves.
SHELLEY: Then by all means, take your time.
LOVECRAFT: Wolves?
BACHMAN: Just kidding. It’ll probably be bears.
BARKER: Ugh. Whatever, Rick.
CUT TO: HOTEL AMBIENCE (CHATTER, PHONE RINGING)
FOOTSTEPS
RICHIE (Joel A.S. Butler): Damn, is that Jessica Chastain or Amy Adams? I can never tell the difference.
BEVERLY: (BEAT) Famous comedian Richie Tozier! My old high school sweetheart!
LOVECRAFT: (V/O) I thought you said the famous architect was her high school sweetheart?
BACHMAN: (V/O) She gets around. Plus, they had this weird four-way back when they were--
BARKER: (V/O) (STOPPING HIM) Ah! We are not, and I say this as a man who fully appreciates any number ending in ‘way’, NOT going there.
RICHIE: Good to see you, Bev!
BEVERLY: You too. I wish it were under happier circumstances.
RICHIE: Me too. But you know--something has to be done for Bill. And Ben had a bunch of guest tickets for this grand opening, so I gathered all the old gang for a good old fashioned intervention.
BEVERLY: Poor guy. Some days I can’t believe my old high school sweetheart Bill grew up into such a famous writer. But then I remember what he’s gotten himself into and--oh--(CRACKS SLIGHTLY)
RICHIE: He’ll be OK, Bev. He’s got us.
BEVERLY: Have you seen anyone else yet?
RICHIE: Ben, of course. He’s running around kicking the walls to make sure they don’t fall down. And... (AWKWARDLY) I did run into Bill when he got here.
BEVERLY: Shit, what did you tell him?
RICHIE: I said I had a gig performing at the hotel.
BEVERLY: How did you sell that?
RICHIE: I have a gig performing at the hotel. I know Ben’s paying for this, but I’m missing work.
MR PENNY: Sorry to break up the reunion, but you forgot your key, Miss Marsh.
BEVERLY: Oh, thank you.
MR PENNY: My pleasure. Another member of, what did Ben call your party?
RICHIE: The Losers Club.
MR PENNY: That was it. The Losers Club. The Club for Losers. A club for all the losers who love to lose. Odd name.
BEVERLY: We weren’t exactly the popular kids back then.
MR PENNY: And now you’re all famous architects and comedians and fashion designers and what not. Ironic, isn’t it? You even suck at losing.
RICHIE: Say, could I get a toothbrush? Left mine at home.
MR PENNY I gave you one yesterday, Mr Tozier.
RICHIE: Good point. I’ll need four more. Maybe throw in a bag of shampoos while you’re at it.
MR PENNY: Of course, sir. Now, Ben wanted you to meet him in the library, I can show you--
FOOTSTEPS
RICHIE: I’m sure we can find our way, Chief.
MR PENNY: Very well. Good afternoon Miss Marsh, Mr Tozier.
SQUEAKY CLOWN SHOE STEPS LEAVING. DOOR CLOSES
RICHIE: Well that guy’s a real--
BARKER: (V/O) SEWER CLOWN!
CUT TO: CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE
BACHMAN: What?
BARKER: They’re from the one with the sewer clown.
POE: It?
BARKER: What?
POE: No, It.
BACHMAN: This isn’t It.
POE: Yes it is.
BARKER: It is what?
POE: No, it is It.
BACHMAN: No, this is That.
LOVECRAFT: Who’s on first?
BARKER: What?
POE: No, It.
KOONTZ: Huh?
SHELLEY: I will push all of you into this campfire. It’s a Sewer Clown/Ax Murder Hotel mashup, Clive. Go on, Rick.
BARKER: I knew it.
BACHMAN: Anyway, Beverly and Richie went to meet up with their friends in the library.
SCENE 3—- INT. LIBRARY
LIBRARY AMBIENCE (PHONOGRAPH MUSIC, FIREPLACE) DOOR OPENING
RICHIE: What kind of clown hotel needs a library anyways?
BEVERLY: It’s a resort, Richie.
BEN (Tenest Tang): Now, this lady gets it.
BEVERLY: Ben! Oh my God, look at you. Wow, you look--
RICHIE: You look like you hunt humans for sport. Seriously. Whisky by the fireplace, the suit, it totally works. How many minutes’ head start do I get?
BEVERLY: Shut the hell up, Richie. (FLIRTING) You look amazing, Ben.
BEN: Lost seventy pounds after that summer. Turns out bullying works. (FLIRTING BACK) You’re not looking bad yourself. Can I get you something to drink?
RICHIE: I’d love a tequila sunrise.
BEN: (UNINTERESTED) Bar cart’s over there, Tozier.
RICHIE: Sure, fine, I see how it is.
GLASSES CLINKING
BEVERLY: I’ve got to say Ben, for never having designed a hotel before, you did a great job.
RICHIE: Yeah, this place has a real bathtub gin vibe.
BEN: You’re not far off. You know the story of this place? Back in the ’70s, maybe ’80s, a caretaker neglected the boiler system and it exploded. 47 dead. (SOLEMNLY) And just as a trio of hotel inspectors were visiting, too. (BRIGHTENING UP) The new owner insisted the place retain the look even with the modern upgrades.
RICHIE: Uh... but you did upgrade the exploding boiler, right?
BEN: (BLASÉ) Oh, sure, I took a look at it.
BEVERLY: And all the clown stuff?
BEN: That was the owner’s idea too. Impugning my integrity as an architect, maybe, but, hey, it’s an imposing mountainside luxury hotel! This kind of gig doesn’t come up often.
BEVERLY: That’s funny. The manager said it was [your idea--]
DOOR OPENING
BILL (Brad Barnes): Hey, Ben, sorry I’m late! What... you’re all here? All my old Losers Club friends! Grown up and still winning! Ben Hanscom, now a big-name architect! Richard Tozier, love your act, especially the Godzilla bit, do the Godzilla bit!
RICHIE: Oh, c’mon, guys I...
BEN/BEVERLY: Do it!
RICHIE: OK, if you insist... (DAFT FALSETTO VOICE) “Look at me! I’m Godzilla! Outta my way! Oooh, I got the little planes stuck in my teeth!”
BEN/BEVERLY: (LAUGHTER)
BILL: Hahahaha, gets me every time. And… Beverly?!
BEVERLY: Hi, Billy. Good to see you.
BILL: It’s good to see you too. And what a great place to meet! What a library! Looks like you even stocked it with a few of my books. “The Glowing”, “Black Minaret”, “The Lime Kilometer”...
BEN: We’re just so proud that our old pal Bill is a world-famous author now.
BEVERLY: Actually, Ben, that’s... kinda what we wanted to talk about. Why don’t you have a seat?
BILL: Wait. What is this? An intervention?
BEN: No, Bill, it’s not an intervention.
BEVERLY: It’s just some friends having a little chat, because... we’re concerned about you. So we thought it was time... to... (WEAKLY) intervene.
RICHIE: He’s not stupid, guys. Yes, Bill, it’s an intervention. We’re all worried about you.
BILL: Why? I quit the booze.
BEVERLY: We know, Bill.
BILL: And the drugs.
RICHIE: Oh God, we wish it was the drugs.
BILL: So what’s the problem?
BEN: It’s about your books.
BILL: My books are bestsellers! I haven’t been off the New York Times’s “Most Pretended To Have Read” list since I started publishing.
BEVERLY: No, Bill. (BREATH) Your... other books.
BILL: What other books?
RICHIE: The ones you write as Jack Torrance.
BILL: Those aren’t me, Richie. I don’t know why everyone keeps mixing us up!
BEVERLY: Billy, we know it’s you. And it needs to stop.
RIFLING THROUGH PAGES
RICHIE: Bill, I’m saying this as one Loser to another. These. Are. Garbage. I mean, you just wrote one called Curse Diet.
BILL: Hey, Curse Diet got a couple good reviews. Three stars in the Times, but it read like a four.
BEVERLY: Bill, you’ve been writing trash for years and passing it off as someone else’s. It’s like you’re scared you can’t write anymore. That’s why we all decided you needed an interven--uh, chat.
BILL: Seriously? My Jack Torrance stories are some of my best work! I mean, they WOULD be, if I had written them, which, I remind you, I did not. Jack Torrance is a totally different person who is not me. The point is, they’re good books! Have you guys even read them?
PAUSE
BEN: I don’t think any of us have. Not past the first couple pages.
BILL: Then talk to me when you have read some! All of you! You owe Jack that much.
BEVERLY: You know what? He’s right. I hate it, but he’s right.
RICHIE: Oh, come on, guys! This has gone too far. Just ’cause we made a stupid club thirty years ago doesn’t mean we have to debase ourselves now!
BEVERLY: (STERNLY) Richie. What do Losers do?
RICHIE: (RELUCTANTLY) We stick together...
BEVERLY: (PROMPTING) ...no matter...
RICHIE: ...no matter how much we suck.
BEVERLY: That’s right.
BEN: Everybody take a Jack Torrance book. Read it tonight. I don’t care if it makes you sick, just keep going. We’ll see each other at breakfast.
RICHIE: If we survive the night. After 10 pages of one of these you start bleeding through the nose.
BEVERLY: Bill... promise--promise us you’ll stay off the typewriter for one night.
BOOKS BEING TAKEN OFF SHELVES.
BILL: Aw, but I’ve got a great idea about a man who’s mad at a highway... (SIGH) fine.
FADE.
FADE TO CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE
SHELLEY: So, Bill uses his pseudonym to publish all his worst ideas?
BACHMAN: That’s right.
SHELLEY: You trying to tell us something about yourself, Rick?
BACHMAN: No! I don’t palm off anything onto a pseudonym! I take credit for all my own stories!
BARKER: Not that you need to. The running fetish is a dead giveaway.
POE: Clive
SCENE 4--INT. ROOM 217--NIGHT
BATHROOM AMBIENCE (BATHTUB RUNNING, SHOWER CURTAIN BEING PULLED. MUSIC ON IN BACKGROUND)
BACHMAN: (V/O) So all the Losers picked a Jack Torrance book and went back to their own rooms for the night. Beverly headed straight for what she knew to be the most comforting and safe part of any creepy hotel--the bathtub.
BEVERLY: (RELAXED IN BATHTUB) Mini-bar wine, check. Soft jazz music, check. And... [BOOK PAGES FLIPPING] Jack Torrance’s “Vampiretown, Population: You”. Ugh. Time to rip off the bandaid. (READING) “I should have known when the movers’ van unloaded the coffin that I was in for a--” AAAAHH!
SOMETHING POPS INTO EXISTENCE. SPLASHING. SCARY CLOWN MUSIC
BEVERLY: (RECOVERING) Um... hi, clown who just appeared in my bathtub? Look, I don’t know how you got in or anything, but I am armed with a disposable leg-hair razor, a single-serving wine bottle and an extremely bad paperback.
CLOWN (Dexter): (EVIL LAUGH)
SPLASHING AS BEVERLY CLIMBS OUT OF BATHTUB. MUSIC AND LAUGHTER SUGGEST CLOWN GETTING NEARER
BEVERLY: Do not make that make-out face at me, I will have you know I am flirting with three old high-school sweethearts right now, and I have a shitty boyfriend who is a complete asshole but will absolutely beat the fuck out of you for seeing me naked. Not one! More! Step!
OMINOUS CLOWN SQUEAK. BOOK BEING THROWN, AND CAUGHT
CLOWN: (EVIL LAUGH) Looks like you threw the book at me!! What a novel weapon!! (EVIL LAUGH)
BEVERLY: Fuck.
CONFUSED SPLASHING, RUNNING
CLOWN: BEVERLYYY, WANNA KNOW HOW I GOT THESE SCARS??
BEVERLY: Aaaargh!
CUT TO--INT. ELEVATOR
ELEVATOR AMBIENCE (CHINTZY MUZAK, BOOPING AS FLOORS PASS BY)
BEVERLY: Clownclownclown, sudden clown. I don’t care what floor, which of these numbers looks the least clowny… 2. (BREATH) It’s probably nothing to be worried about. I’m just losing my mind. That’s all.
ELEVATOR BELL
BEVERLY: Shit!
ELEVATOR DOORS SLIDE OPEN
BEN: (ASSUMING SOMETHING GOOD, FLIRTING) Bev?
BEVERLY: (FRIGHTENED) Ben!! Oh, no, I see the mix-up here. This is not a “good” coming-to-your-floor-covered-in-lather situation. I’m running from a ghost murder clown that showed up while I was in the tub!
BEN: Oh yeah, this hotel is full of clowns. It’s part of the theming! You know, to compete with the Tonopah clown motel. (PAUSE) Can I get you a robe?
FADE
SCENE 5--EXT. CAMPFIRE-NIGHT
FADE IN CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE
BACHMAN: So Ben and Beverly headed for Richie’s room to wake him up, but they met him in the hallway, running from the clown.
SHELLEY: Wait... Richie’s also running from the clown?
BACHMAN: Yeah.
SHELLEY: The same clown?
BACHMAN: Yeah, there’s only one clown.
SHELLEY: But they meet in the hall? So they’re running towards each other?
BACHMAN: Yeah. This clown can be in two places at once.
SHELLEY: (ALARMED) Fuck.
KOONTZ: Wow, I didn’t know clowns could do that.
BARKER: Clowns can do anything, Dean. They can be anywhere.
KOONTZ: Oh no!
LOVECRAFT: What? Clowns aren’t scary.
SHELLEY: Clowns are scary as shit. Everyone knows that.
LOVECRAFT: Are they, though?
POE: Yeah.
KOONTZ: I like the clowns in the circus. But... if they’re gonna turn up where they’re not supposed to be, like bathtubs or sewers? No thanks!
BARKER: That’s it. The horror’s in the juxtaposition. Clowns are one of the few things that have their own very definite place in this world. You know precisely where they’re supposed to be: at the circus, on the wrong end of a pie. But clowns literally anywhere else? That’s a violation of your concept of reality, man.
BACHMAN: This guy’s smarter than he looks. Why d’you only write about horny demons?
BARKER: It’s not my job to explain shit to you.
LOVECRAFT: I like clowns.
POE: Really, Howard? That’s surprising.
LOVECRAFT: Why? They’re nice wholesome American entertainment. Like the commedia dell'arte!
POE: That’s Italian though.
BARKER: HA!
LOVECRAFT: WHAT??
BACHMAN: Easy, Sweaty Man. It isn’t so much a clown as an eldritch abomination that just looks like a clown.
LOVECRAFT: B-but an eldritch abomination can’t look like a clown! That’s not how it works. They don’t look like anything!
BARKER: Except squids?
LOVECRAFT: Well, yeah, but they’re, y’know... indescribable. You can’t go around describing them. Next you’ll be saying they’re speakable! Oh, I don’t feel good...
SHELLEY: Clouds are rolling in.
BACHMAN: Oddly, not feeling too good here either... ugh... I-
TRULY DISGUSTING TRANSFORMATION NOISES, VARIOUS SCREAMS.
POE: Welcome back, Stephen.
BARKER: I did not expect that transformation to be so gooey.
POE: Well, you know how transformations are. The slime’s part of the deal.
LOVECRAFT: Bleh! Yuck! He got it all over me!
KING (Jason): Yeesh, I feel like I’ve been run over by a 1978 Mack Superliner. What’s going on, did I nod off?
KOONTZ: Bachman escaped and he’s telling a story tonight.
KING: Oh. What story? And why is Howard covered in, uh, fluid?
SHELLEY: You transformed on top of him.
BARKER: And it’s a murder-clown-stroke-scary-hotel story.
KING: Really? Just the two of them? Hey, what if there were like, six or seven of my stories all mashed up into one big massive multiplayer crossover! I gotta write this down...
POE: Or memorize it. The moon's coming back out.
KING: Anyone got a--(STRANGLED)--pen--urgh!
FURTHER TRULY DISGUSTING TRANSFORMATION NOISES
BACHMAN: That’s better, whew! Where w--Wow, you sure are getting sweaty there, Sweaty Man.
LOVECRAFT: (RETCHING NOISES)
BACHMAN: Anyway, where was I? As Bev, Ben, and Richie escaped their respective clowns and tiptoed down to the lobby in hopes of finding the hotel manager, little did they know that Bill had also been wandering around the hotel that night.
FADE
SCENE 6--INT. GOLD BALLROOM-NIGHT
FADE IN BALLROOM AMBIENCE (JAZZ MUSIC, COCKTAIL SHAKER.)
BILL: (TO HIMSELF) Intervention. I don’t need an intervention. Anymore at least. There’s nothing wrong with making sure no one knows you wrote ESPMS or Truxorcist: Truck Exorcist. I barely want to know I wrote Truxorcist.
PENNY: Well hello there, Mr Denborough. (COCKTAIL SHAKER NOISE) Can I interest you in something to drink? You look like a real man’s man. (BEAT) Banana daiquiri?
BILL: Oh, um, no thanks. I’m just going to read a little bit until I can get to sleep.
PENNY: What are you reading?
BLENDER SOUNDS
BILL: Oh, it’s uh (MUTTERING) Fangirl With a Hammer. By that literary genius Jack Torrance! Boy, I’d love to meet him someday, what with him not being me and all! Say, you have a lot of balloons up in here.
PENNY: We have a private event tomorrow. Fangirl With a Hammer is a good one. My personal favorite is My Kinky Handcuff Accident.
BILL: Oh? You’re a fan of Jack Torrance?
PENNY: Of course I am, Billy. After all, they’re my stories.
PAUSE IN JAZZ MUSIC, THEN A CIRCUS STYLE CALLIOPE SOLO IN THE SAME TUNE
BILL: I’m sorry, what? These are--I’m the writer.
PENNY: But my name’s right on the cover. Those are my stories, Billy Boy, and you stole them.
BILL: I’m going to--I’m leaving. Let go of my hand!
PENNY: You’re not going anywhere.
BLENDER NOISE
BILL: Ow! What are you--
PENNY: (VOICE CHANGING INTO THAT OF THE CLOWN) Care to give me a HAND with this cocktail??
BILL: Aaaargh!!
STRUGGLING AS THE BLENDER AMPS UP IN PITCH. CONFUSION. GLASS SMASHES. RUNNING.
CLOWN: (EVIL LAUGH) BILLYYYY BOYYY--WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOUR FANS FOUND OUT YOU WERE JACK TORRANCE? THEY MIGHT SEND YOU TORRENTS OF ABUSE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
BILL: Wait...
FOOTSTEPS STOP ABRUPTLY. LULL IN MUSIC
CLOWN: Keep running, Billy Boy! (RHYTHMICALLY) It’s really no fun/ when your prey doesn’t run!
BILL: You’re not real! You’re the physical manifestation of... my pseudonym! My dark half! And also a clown, for some reason! Jeez, how Freudian can you get? BEV! BEN! RICHIE!... Anyone??
CLOWN: MY stories, Billy Boy!
MUSIC COMES BACK UP. RUNNING AGAIN
CLOWN: MY stories! (EVIL LAUGH)
BILL: Noooooo!
FADE
SCENE 7--INT. SIDEWINDER LOBBY--NIGHT
FADE IN LOBBY NIGHT AMBIENCE (MORE CIRCUS MUSIC). A PEN SCRATCHES ON PAPER. SEVERAL PAIRS OF FOOTSTEPS RUNNING ON TILE
BILL: We need to get the fuck out of here!
BEN: Welcome to the party, Bill. You see the clown too?
BILL: I--(PAUSE)
BEVERLY: Billy? Is there something you’re not telling us?
BILL: I think--I think I’m--
RICHIE: Heartfelt confessions can wait. We are trapped in a creepy murder hotel with an evil clown and if we leave we’ll freeze to death in the snow.
BILL: At least it can’t get much worse.
BEN: Yeah, about that. We haven’t told you about the murders.
BILL …I’m sorry?
BEVERLY: Ben and I found the whole staff, murdered! The cook, twin cleaning ladies, and a gardener who was in a bear costume.
BILL: Why?
BEN: Hey, I’m not going to kink-shame anyone.
BILL: Was he gardening in it? I don’t--
BEVERLY: The point is, they’re all staff. There’s no other guests at all! Just us Losers!
RICHIE: Nobody’s left except that weirdo Mr Penny.
BILL: I saw him, but he wasn’t just a guy in a clown suit! He was... he was that...
BEVERLY: “THAT” is exactly right. I don’t think it’s even human.
BEN: Where’d you see it? We’ve been all over the hotel.
BILL: Well, I went into the ballroom and THAT was the bartender, and then he turned into the clown. Also I think he was saying he was Jack Torrance? But you know, hard to remember when he’s pushing my hand into a blender.
BEN: The ballroom?
RICHIE: Wait, “the ballroom” is what got your attention?
BEN: The ballroom is one of the parts of the original hotel that survived the explosion. We were renovating it. It shouldn’t be open yet.
BILL: It looked pretty nice to me, except for the balloons and the carnival music and--
BEN: Now that’s wrong. We certainly never gave it the clown job.
TYPEWRITER SOUNDS
BILL: So THAT can alter the reality of the hotel in real time?
RICHIE: Man, this is either the worst party of my life or the best.
TYPEWRITER BELL, CARRIAGE RETURN, TYPING CONTINUES
BEVERLY: Richie, shhh--do you guys hear that?
BEN: Sounds like it’s coming from the lounge.
FOOTSTEPS ON CARPET, TYPEWRITER SOUNDS GET LOUDER
CLOWN: Oh don’t mind me, just working on my new novel. (TYPEWRITER BELL, CARRIAGE RETURN) Why so serious, Losers? (MORE UNHINGED) I’m just going to finish this chapter, let me see… “Then the scary clown twisted the loudmouth’s head off like a bottle cap and ate the rest of them along with their yummy, yummy fearrrr.”
RICHIE: Who’s the [loudmouth?]
CLOWN: (SHUSHING HIM) Ah-ta-ta! I have to finish before the blood gets here.
BEVERLY: (WEAKLY) We’re not scared of you.
CLOWN: And here I thought you were the smart one. Say it like you mean it next time. (TYPING, ELEVATOR BELL) Oops, blood’s here!
BILL: Blood?
ELEVATOR DOORS, RUSHING LIQUID, CLOWN LAUGHING, GLASS SHATTERING.
BACHMAN: (V/O) And a tidal wave of blood carried them through the windows and out onto the frozen lawn.
POE: (V/O) That part wasn’t even in Steve’s story.
BACHMAN: (V/O) I like it better this way.
FADE
SCENE 8--EXT. TOPIARY GARDEN--NIGHT
GARDEN AMBIENCE (RUNNING WATER [AND/OR BLOOD], COLD WIND IN TREES)
BACHMAN: (V/O) They all emerged, coughing and covered with blood, in the Topiary Garden.
BEN: You know, (COUGH) I thought these hedge animals were creepy enough during the day.
RICHIE: Yeah, the moonlight certainly gives them an eerie sheen. (COUGH) That, and they’re all spiders now.
BEVERLY: Not an improvement. Clown’s gone again, gang.
BILL: What’s the plan?
BEVERLY: Why are you looking at me?
BILL: You’ve been taking charge all night.
RICHIE: And I’d rather you than these two doofuses. Or heaven forbid, me.
BEVERLY: Great. So glad to be made executive officer in charge of demon murder clowns. First, we’ll need some weapons.
RICHIE: There’s a croquet set here?
BEVERLY: Fine. Everyone grab a mallet. Next, I guess we find shelter from the cold--
WOODEN MALLETS RATTLING, HEDGES RUSTLING
RICHIE: Guys?
BEVERLY: Then I can think up something that might work.
HEDGES RUSTLING LOUDER
RICHIE: Guys! Bad stop-motion-animated giant hedge spiders!
BEVERLY: (DISAPPOINTED) Shit. Run!
FOOTSTEPS RUNNING ON SNOW. FADE
SCENE 9—-EXT. CAMPFIRE-NIGHT
FADE IN CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE
SHELLEY: What are you trying to say here, Rick?
BACHMAN: Say? I’m not trying to say anything, I’m trying to give you all what you want, a spooky story not about running. Do you need some descriptions of trucks and a Blue Oyster Cult song? I’m sure I’ve got those too.
BARKER: Jealous much?
POE: Clive
BACHMAN: Hey, you’re not the one who gets stuck telling the trashy stories because someone hogs all the good ideas in your head. I could do great things with vampires that feed on psychics or a cemetery that brings dogs back to life.
KOONTZ: Oh my god!
POE: Dean. It comes at a terrible cost.
BACHMAN: But Steve left me with the apocalypse-running. If I got all the toys I could do a good job too! Steve just hates me!
SHELLEY: D’you really think that’s what Steve’s doing?
BACHMAN: Obviously!
SHELLEY: Have you ever met him?
BACHMAN: Of course I haven’t! That’s not possible except during a solar eclipse.
POE: Another cloud’s coming in...
SHELLEY: Dean, give me your coloring book for a minute.
KOONTZ: Okay, but don’t mess up the border collie I’m working on. What color crayon?
SHELLEY: Doesn’t matter. Hurry.
TRULY DISGUSTING TRANSFORMATION NOISES, DEAN PASSES COLORING BOOK.
POE: Ewww.
LOVECRAFT: Ugh, so... violating!
KING: Oh, hey. Jeez-louise, Howard, you’re still gooey?
SHELLEY: Never mind him. Steve, do you hate Bachman?
KING: What? No, Rick’s great! He tells killer stories about apocalyptic marathons! I met his girlfriend Claudia this one time during a solar eclipse; I don’t normally say things like this but, quite the tomato. She looked like Tabitha if she was a pro wrestler--
SHELLEY: Good, write that down on this.
KING: (ADMONISHING) Mary, this is Dean’s coloring book.
KOONTZ: It’s okay.
STEPHEN SCRIBBLES WITH THE CRAYON, A WOLF HOWLS IN THE DISTANCE.
BARKER: Just a couple more seconds...
KING: There. That sho—uughhhh
TRULY DISGUSTING TRANSFORMATION NOISES
LOVECRAFT: Ahhhhgh, it’s in my mouth. It’s in my mouth!
BARKER: Why am I not recording this for TikTok? Oh right, I am.
BACHMAN: (SHAKING OFF GOO) Buhhh... Right, back to the story. Yikes, Sweaty Man, you should bring a towel or something.
LOVECRAFT: I think I need to go wash. Forever.
BACHMAN: Nonsense, we’re in the home stretch.
SHELLEY: Look down, Rick. Steve left you a note.
BACHMAN: What? Would you look at that. That’s really… (TOUCHED) wow.
POE: What did he write?
BACHMAN: None of your business, pal! I..think we should finish the story first.
SCENE 10—-EXT. HEDGE MAZE- NIGHT
MAZE AMBIENCE (WIND IN TREES, CRASHING OF HEDGE SPIDER LEGS). FOOTSTEPS ON GRASS
BACHMAN: (V/O) The bad stop-motion topiary spiders chased our heroes into the hedge maze, and as Bev and the other Losers ran toward the center, they realized too late that--
BEVERLY: They can climb over the walls! Move it! Come on, Richie, stick together!
RICHIE: (RESIGNED PANIC) This is it. I’m going to die crushed under a hedge with legs while a guy with his pants full of custard mocks me.
BILL: At least you’ll die making someone laugh.
BEVERLY: Not if I have any say about it! Which way, Ben?
BEN: Two more lefts, then a right.
FOOTSTEPS COME TO A HALT
BILL: Center of the maze.
BEVERLY: Okay, everyone out this way.
RICHIE: You mean right into the spiders?
BEVERLY: Fine, back the other way.
RICHIE: Into more spiders? I’m not liking either option.
BEVERLY: Ben, you built this place. Is there any other way out of here?
BEN: Not the maze. Everything outside the building was more or less intact, we just trimmed the hedges. And it’s really more of a labyrinth than a maze. Wait... there’s no snow on the ground here.
RICHIE: Is this really a time to discover an interest in meteorology, man?
BEN: (EXPLAINING PATIENTLY) There’s no snow, which means the walkways must be heated. Which means there’s steam tunnels under there! Everyone, dig! Look for a hatch!
HANDS SCRABBLING IN DIRT. EVENTUALLY, A METAL CLANG
BILL: Here it is, I found it!
GRATE OPENS. COVER FALLS ONTO THE DIRT.
BEVERLY: Ben, you’re tallest. You go first, then help the rest of us down.
EVERYONE CLIMBS THROUGH THE GRATE. STEAM TUNNEL AMBIENCE (WATER DRIPPING, STEAM HISSING, CLOSE ECHO)
BEN: Ugh, it stinks down here.
RICHIE: Yeah. Like whisky, cigarettes, and... peanuts? It’s like being at...
CLOWN: ...the circus? Snacks, smokes, carnival workers drinking on the job? Hot dogs, vomit and popcorn? (INHALES) Aah, that takes me back.
BEN/BILL/RICHIE/BEVERLY: (SCREAMING)
RUNNING ON CONCRETE, ECHOING
CLOWN: (EVIL LAUGH)... Oh dear, you’ve got eight legs between you and I only have two. I guess this is only fair...
FABRIC RIPPING, CLAWED FEET RUNNING ON CONCRETE
BEN: Guy’s there’s a--
BILL: Spider-clown!
BEVERLY: Spider-clown?!
CLOWN: Friendly neighborhood spider-clown!
BILL: Through the pipes! Come on! Hurry!
RICHIE: Is it Skarsgård or Tim Curry?
BEN/BILL/BEVERLY/RICHIE/BILL: (SINGING) LOOK OUT! Here comes the spider-clooown!!
RICHIE: What the fuck just happened?
BILL: He’s drawing us into his surreal circus reality. I have a feeling it’s only going to get worse unless we get rid of him soon.
RICHIE: What does that even mean?!
BILL: I don’t know, Richie, I’m making this up as we go.
BEVERLY: Ben! You said the old hotel blew up.
BEN: The boiler exploded, why?
BEVERLY: A burning hotel would make for a hell of a signal fire... and one dead clown.
BEN: Shit, really?
BEVERLY: I know we’re blowing up your baby, get over it.
BEN: Fine! Turn right here, follow the pipes!
BACHMAN: (V/O) And Ben and Beverly led the Losers under the hotel and down into the boiler room, with the clown right on their heels, scuttling on eight black and pointed legs.
FADE BACK TO CAMPFIRE
BARKER: So Rick, this spider-clown--was he hot?
POE: Clive!?
BACHMAN: Super hot, Clive. Like “Chinatown guy meets Hemlock Grove guy but a clown” hot.
BARKER: Ohhh yeahhh.
SCENE 11—-INT. BOILER ROOM- NIGHT
BOILER ROOM AMBIENCE (STEAM HISSING, FANS CLANGING)
BEVERLY: Ben, you’re with me on the boiler, Richie and Bill, croquet that clown spider in the face.
RICHIE: (SARCASTIC) Aw, don’t give us the easy jobs!
BEN: Bev, I don’t exactly know--
BEVERLY: Easy, buddy. All we have to do is lock this thing down and then get out of here before the hotel blows up. Easier than that excuse for a haiku you wrote me in middle school.
BEN: You remember that?
BEVERLY: I do.
BEN: You didn’t like it?
BEVERLY: Ben, it's you I like. I didn’t need the poem. Now go get to work.
BEN: Sure. (BEAT) Oh my god, was that--
CLOWN: HEY LOSERS! Better keep running! Nothing tastes better than when you’re scared!
BEN: I think... that’s the main valve. Close it off and the whole system will over-pressurize.
VALVES CREAKING
CLOWN: There you are!
BILL: Get him!
CHAOS, MALLETS HITTING FLESH, SHARP LIMBS CLANGING AGAINST METAL, STEAM GAINING IN PITCH, HONKING.
CLOWN: Gotcha, Fat Boy! Always the slowest runner and now you’re going to--
MALLET CRACK, CLOWN HOWLING.
BEVERLY: Get the fuck away from him! I have dibs. (STRUGGLING)
BEN: Emergency shut-off is disabled--I think it’s working!
KLAXON, RUMBLING.
BILL: Anyone have a plan for after this?
RICHIE: Yeah. Not dying.
BEVERLY: Ben! Is there an exit?
BEN: Not really--wait, wait there’s a hatch there. I’m not sure where it goes, though.
BEVERLY: Good enough! everybody through. Gimme your mallet, Bill, I’ve got the clown!
DOOR OPENING, FEET LANDING ON METAL, MORE STRUGGLING SOUNDS
CLOWN: You think this is going to stop me? I’m going to find you and eat you wherever you run!
BEVERLY: All out of jokes, Giggles?
BEN: [Bev, come on!]
BILL: [Beverly, let’s go!]
RICHIE: [Leave him!]
CRASHING NOISE
CLOWN: Heeeeeeeeere’s PENNY!!
BEVERLY: (CALLING) Save yourselves, boys. Someone’s gotta destroy Pagliacci from the inside. (SHOUTING AT CLOWN) EAT ME YOU FUCKING CLOWN!
BILL: [SCRAMBLING OUT OF THE GRATE] No! Only I can do this.
BEVERLY: I’m doing the heroic self-sacrifice, Bill. End of discussion.
BILL: Nobody’s sacrificing themselves. I’m the one that can stop THAT. Because THAT... is me.
CLOWN: By George, he’s nearly got it!
BEVERLY: You’ve got five seconds to explain.
CLOWN: Of course I’m not YOU, Billy Boy. You’re a conduit. A useful tube! (MORE NORMALLY) I don’t know why I’m helping explain this.
BILL: That’s right. Whatever THAT is, it found an entrance into our reality through a crack opened up by... my inner conflict. My dual identity.
BEVERLY: What?
BEN/RICHIE: [FROM GRATE] What?
BILL: My fellow Losers... I need to be honest with all of you... and with myself. I am Jack Torrance.
BEN: [FROM GRATE] We know!
RICHIE: [FROM GRATE] Of course you are!
CLOWN: Aaaaargggghhhh! I’m meltiiing!!
BEVERLY: What’s happening to THAT?
BEN: Its passageway into our reality is closing.
CLOWN: (DYING) What a world, what a world!
BEN: It’s vulnerable! NOW, Bev!!
BEVERLY: FUCK YOU, CLOWN!!!
MASSIVE CRACK AS BEVERLY WALLOPS THE CLOWN WITH HER MALLET
CLOWN: (HUGE, DYING ROAR) [SAD HONKS]
RICHIE: [FROM GRATE] Nice punchline, now GET OUT OF THERE!!!
BEVERLY AND BEN DROP THROUGH THE GRATE. RUNNING THROUGH METAL PIPE. HUGE EXPLOSION! BUILDING ON FIRE
BEN: There goes my Pritzker award.
BACHMAN: (V/O) The fire burned for three days and nights before the Sidewinder fire department could put it out, and when they did, they found no survivors... and no bodies. Nor was there any sign of the spider-clown. In fact, as the days went by, it was hard to remember a hotel had been there at all.
FADE
SCENE 12--EXT. DESERT--DAY
FADE IN DESERT AMBIENCE (CARRION BIRDS, WIND, SAND UNDERFOOT)
BEN: Beverly?
BEVERLY: Huh?
BEN: Bev, wake up.
BEVERLY: Whoa, how did it get so bright? Is it morning? Did I pass out?
BILL: You should really take a look.
RICHIE: Yeah, you really don’t want to miss all the nothing you can see.
BEVERLY: I--we’re in a desert?
BEN: Yeah.
RICHIE: Say, Ben, how do you install a desert in the basement of a hotel anyway?
BEN: Shut up, Richie.
BILL: We should probably rest now and walk at night. Better to travel when it’s cooler. You okay, Bev?
BEVERLY: Yeah, Ben, I’ll be fine. Giant otherworldly desert, no big deal. Wait. Is that who I think it is? Over there?
DISTANT HONKING
BEN: Shit.
CLOWN: (DISTANT) Hey hey, how are you guys gonna survive in the desert?? I know! You could eat the SAND WHICH IS here!! [HONK]
FAR OFF, A CLOWN CAR STARTS UP WITH DIFFICULTY AND BEGINS TO PUTTER AWAY
BILL: He’s getting away in that tiny car.
CLOWN CAR BACKFIRES AND FALLS TO BITS. HONKING, FARAWAY SQUEAKY FOOTSTEPS
RICHIE: Guess he’s on foot now.
BEVERLY: I think we found a good story for you, Billy. We’re going to get that clown, however long it takes. Come on.
FOOTSTEPS ON SAND. SCENE STARTS TO FADE
BILL: Hey, you guys didn’t really think my Jack Torrance books were that bad, did you?
FADE
SCENE 13—-EXT. CAMPFIRE- NIGHT
FADE IN CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE
BACHMAN: And so the clown fled across the desert, and the Losers followed. The End.
BARKER: Kind of a cliffhanger, don’t you think?
BACHMAN: Well, the moon’s almost down, time’s about up for me.
KOONTZ: I didn’t understand the ending. But I liked how Bill had to make nice with his other self like that. Heeeey, is that like you and Steve?
SHELLEY: What exactly did Steve write to you?
BACHMAN: I’ll let him tell you. Thank you, all of you, for letting me tell something. I’ll miss this, and I think I’ll miss you most of all, Sweaty Man.
LOVECRAFT: I’m not hugging you.
BACHMAN: You’re still my favorite.
TRANSFORMATION NOISES
KING: Whew. Still will never get used to that. How’d he do?
SHELLEY: Not bad. What did you write to him?
KING: That he could use any of my stories he wanted. That guy’s great, and I love mashups! Did he end it in the desert?
POE: He did.
KING: Said a cool line?
BARKER: Yeah, kinda.
SHELLEY: Next full moon, if he wants, he can come again.
KOONTZ: I’ll let him know!
POE: Well then, I declare this meeting of the Midnight Society closed. See you next week, everyone.
WATER ON CAMPFIRE, HISSING.
FADE.
POST-CREDIT SCENE--EXT. STEPHEN’S HOUSE--NIGHT
FADE IN, SCREEN DOOR SHUTTING.
A.N. ROQUELAURE (Loretta Chang): Ah, Richard Bachman! If I might suggest, we have somewhere else you can go tonight.
BACHMAN: I know you guys... Anne Rice, Isaac Asimov and Agatha Christie?
ROQUELAURE: Not tonight, we’re not. I’m A.N. Roquelaure. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.
PAUL FRENCH (Joel): Paul French. Nice to meet you.
MARY WESTMACOTT (Hannah Brown): Mary Westmacott. We’d like to invite you to a meeting of the Moonlight Fellowship.
FRENCH: We like to tell stories.
BACHMAN: Really, what kind?
WESTMACOTT: Romantic drama.
FRENCH: Space cowboy.
ROQUELAURE: Fairytale bondage erotica.
WESTMACOTT: It’s an open question.
ROQUELAURE: The catch is, we can only meet under the full moon.
BACHMAN: Sounds like my kind of group.
FADE.
END.