DANIEL:
Especially for “Bass The Hard-Ass.” Thanks for breakfast, Pa.
MUSIC:
EPISODE SCORE MARKING PASSAGE OF TIME.
SOUND:
DANIEL GRUNTING AS HE UNLOADS A FINAL BAG FROM A DELIVERY TRUCK.
DANIEL:
(breathing heavily) All right, that’s the last of it, Mr. Bass.
MERLE:
Nice to watch someone else unload the truck for a change. Close up the tailgate for me, would you?
DANIEL:
Sure thing.
SOUND:
TAILGATE ON THE TRUCK BEING SHUT.
MERLE:
(calling out) That’s it, Travis! We’ll see you Thursday!
SOUND:
TRUCK STARTING UP AND DRIVING AWAY, UNDER.
MERLE (cont’d):
Good job, kid. I think you might work out here.
DANIEL:
(distracted) Thanks.
MERLE:
You feeling all right? You look like your mind is somewhere else.
DANIEL:
(a bit reluctantly) I, uh. . .I didn’t get much sleep last night.
MERLE:
Nightmares?. . .about the camps?
DANIEL:
Something like that.
MERLE:
(hesitant at first, then forges ahead) You know. . .uh. . .when I came back from Korea, I had days when it seemed like I was still there. . .like the war was one long nightmare I’d never wake up from. But the more I went on living my life, and the more I hung on to everything those bastards tried to take away from me, the more. . .powerful I felt. Then one morning I woke up and I just had this feeling that I’d been through the worst of it. I was ready to move on. That’s when I knew. . .the nightmare was over. (a beat) It’ll be over for you, too, kid. Just keep fighting.
DANIEL:
(quietly) Yes, sir.
MERLE:
(a world-weary sigh, then. . .) Come on. If you want to see a nightmare, I’ll show you how to work that pile of scrap metal that passes for a cash register.
MUSIC:
TRANSITION
NARRATOR:
It’s a fairly busy morning for Daniel. Working with customers and learning the
NARRATOR (cont’d):
routine around the store takes his mind off his nightmares. In fact, by the time his four-hour workday is almost done, he begins to think his sanity may be restored.
SOUND:
THE BUSTLE OF THE TOWN SQUARE.
NARRATOR (cont’d):
After work, he decides to go for a walk through the town square, which on this sunny afternoon is the very picture of small town America. It is an idyllic scene. . .perhaps too idyllic.
MUSIC:
OMINOUS, UNDER.
DANIEL:
(alarmed) That man walking out of the diner. . .he looks like a guy who was a prisoner in the camp. (a beat) It is him. . . he’s even wearing the gray prison uniform. (anxiety building) Wait. . .there’s another prisoner over by the courthouse steps! And another by the bus stop. They’re all wearing that same uniform! (frightened now) What are they doing here? (a beat) They’re. . . they’re pretending to play football. . .
DANIEL (cont’d):
just like they used to do in the exercise yard at the camp.
NARRATOR:
If the sight of his fellow prisoners isn’t enough to spook Daniel, the next person he sees sends him into a full- blown panic.
HANGMAN:
(off) Enough game! Time for interrogation! Where Private Daniel Conway?
DANIEL:
(gasps) The Hangman!
HANGMAN:
(off) Conway a spy! I interrogate him!
DANIEL:
(a panicked whisper) No! I’ve got to get out of here!
SOUND:
DANIEL’S FOOTSTEPS RUNNING, UNDER.
HANGMAN:
(off) There he is! He try to run away! Where you going to run, Conway? You cannot go far! I find you!
DANIEL:
(panicked, breathless as he runs) This isn’t happening! It can’t be real!
MUSIC:
STING.
ANNOUNCER:
We’ll return to Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories – after these few words.
ANNOUNCER:
Now back to Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories and “The Final Battlefield.”
SOUND:
DANIEL RUNNING INTO KITCHEN, THE DOOR SLAMMING BEHIND HIM.
DANIEL:
(breathing heavily; trying to convince himself) They weren’t there! It never happened. . .it’s impossible!
NARRATOR:
Daniel stands in the middle of his kitchen trying to figure out how a group of Viet Cong could chase him out of the village square in Clover Ridge, Iowa. Then, remembering that it must be a nightmare, he starts looking frantically around the kitchen for the dreamcatcher.
SOUND:
DANIEL QUICKLY WALKING TO COUNTER, AND DREAMCATCHER CLATTERING A BIT AS HE PICKS IT UP, UNDER.
NARRATOR (cont’d):
Seeing it on the counter, he grabs for it and clutches it desperately to his chest.
DANIEL:
(a bit relieved) All right. I just need to calm down. Maybe I’ll go upstairs and lie down for a while.
SOUND:
FOLLOW DANIEL WALKING UPSTAIRS AND INTO HIS ROOM, UNDER.
DANIEL (cont’d):
It’s impossible. The Hangman can’t be here. Neither can Keith. . .or all those other POWs. Gotta slow down my heart. I’m too upset.
SOUND:
THE BED CREAKING AS DANIEL LAYS DOWN, UNDER.
DANIEL (cont’d):
Gotta close my eyes and relax. Deep breaths, Daniel. Just picture those nightmares falling into the dreamcatcher. (takes a deep breath, then, more calmly) That’s better.
HANGMAN:
(abruptly) You comfy now?
DANIEL:
You! What are you doing in my room?
HANGMAN:
What you mean your room? This no hotel!
DANIEL:
You’re not here! This is an illusion!. . .Some trick of the mind!
HANGMAN:
Guard! Set up the pulley. Time to interrogate Private Conway.
DANIEL:
No!
SOUND:
DANIEL STRUGGLING WITH GUARD, THEN THE ROPE AND PULLEY BEING SET UP, UNDER.
NARRATOR:
As Daniel tries to process all this, his wrists are wrenched behind his back and tied with a thick rope. . .a rope
NARRATOR (cont’d):
that is part of the dreaded torture device he knows all too well.
DANIEL:
(almost a sob) This isn’t happening! You’re not real! You’re some kind of hallucination!
HANGMAN:
No worry. . .we convince you otherwise. Guard. . .pull him up!
SOUND:
SQUEAK OF PULLEY AS IT PULLS DANIEL OFF THE FLOOR.
DANIEL:
(groans loudly in pain) My shoulders! They feel like they’re coming out of their sockets!
HANGMAN:
That probably because they are. Now, you tell me: why you spying on us?
DANIEL:
I wasn’t spying on you!
HANGMAN:
You lie! What you trying to find out?
DANIEL:
Nothing. I told you, I’m not a spy. (sobbing a bit) Please!. . .My arms! They feel like they’re going to break!
HANGMAN:
You tell me what I want to know, I let you down.
DANIEL:
But there’s nothing to tell you!
HANGMAN:
You lie! I let you die up there!
DANIEL:
(like a mantra) I’m not here, I’m not here, I’m in Iowa, the smell of clover is coming in through the window. . .
HANGMAN:
You not in Iowa. . .you lie too easy. Guard – give me my knife!
DANIEL:
(at his
wit’s end) No! Please, no!
SOUND:
THE SHRIEK OF METAL ON METAL AS THE KNIFE IS UNSHEATHED.
HANGMAN:
This very old knife. What you call “antique.” It get passed down from my great great grandfather. You should feel privileged I use it on you. I take good care of it. Clean lots of blood off it. . .keep it very sharp. You want to see how sharp it is?
DANIEL:
No.
HANGMAN:
(ignoring him) Okay, I show you. I think I start with leg.
DANIEL:
Stop - please!
HANGMAN:
Right about. . .here!
SOUND:
THE KNIFE RIPPING THROUGH DANIEL’S FLESH.
DANIEL:
(cries out in pain)
HANGMAN:
See? It cut pretty good. I try on your arm.
DANIEL:
Please!. . .No!
SOUND:
THE KNIFE RIPPING THROUGH DANIEL’S FLESH.
DANIEL (cont’d):
(cries out in agony)
HANGMAN:
Oh! That a good one! It cut vein. . .lots of blood!
DANIEL:
Please stop!
HANGMAN:
First you tell me who you spying for!
DANIEL:
I’m not a spy!
HANGMAN:
Liar!
SOUND:
THE KNIFE RIPPING THROUGH FLESH.
DANIEL:
(cries out, then. . .) I swear, I’m not!
HANGMAN:
Liar!
SOUND:
THE KNIFE RIPPING THROUGH FLESH.
DANIEL:
(cries out, then. . .) Please, I was just here with my platoon!
HANGMAN:
Liar!
SOUND:
THE KNIFE RIPPING THROUGH FLESH.
DANIEL:
(cries out, then. . .) Dear God! Why won’t you believe me?
HANGMAN:
Because all Americans liars! (a beat) You cry out to God. . .you must be a
HANGMAN (cont’d):
Christian man, Private Conway - so you believe lying is a sin. I know. . .I read your Bible. I tell you what. . .I help you get into heaven.
DANIEL:
What do you mean?
HANGMAN:
Your tongue lie to me. . .it make you sin. . .so I cut out your tongue!
DANIEL:
No!
HANGMAN:
Then you tell me who you work for!
DANIEL:
I’m here with the U.S. Army!
HANGMAN:
No. . .you here working for someone else. I think you work for CIA.
DANIEL:
This isn’t happening! It’s a nightmare. I just need to wake up from it.
HANGMAN:
Guard! Lower him so I can reach his mouth!
SOUND
SQUEAK OF PULLEY, UNDER.
DANIEL:
I just need to picture all of this getting caught up in the dreamcatcher. (like a mantra) The knife, these ropes, The Hangman. . .they’re all going into the dreamcatcher.
HANGMAN:
What you babbling about? Open your mouth.
DANIEL:
(still the mantra) The guard, the other prisoners, this cell. . .all going into the dreamcatcher.
HANGMAN:
Guard! Hold his jaw open!
DANIEL:
All of you! You’re all going into the dreamcatcher! None of you is here! This is all a nightmare! I’m going to wake up soon!
SOUND:
STRUGGLING AS DANIEL RESISTS.
DANIEL (cont’d):
(his jaw restricted by the guard’s hands) No! Let go!
HANGMAN:
You struggle too much, I not make a clean cut. That be a shame. . .I need your tongue undamaged for my collection! Now hold still. . .
DANIEL:
(his mouth still restricted) No! Stop!
SOUND:
A MACHINE GUN FIRING IN THE DISTANCE.
HANGMAN:
What is that?
SOUND:
MACHINE GUN FIRING AGAIN.
HANGMAN (cont’d):
Who shooting? I no give order to shoot anyone!
NARRATOR:
With the razor-sharp edge of The Hangman’s knife poised to slice off Daniel’s tongue, a group of Navy Seals
NARRATOR (cont’d):
suddenly bursts in and starts shooting at The Hangman and his guard.
SOUND:
DOOR BURSTING OPEN, FOOTSTEPS RUNNING IN, FOLLOWED BY SEVERAL MACHINE GUN BURSTS.
MERLE:
Drop that knife!
LIEUTENANT:
(Texas accent) And the guns!
HANGMAN:
Who are you?
LIEUTENANT:
U.S. Navy Seals. We’re takin’ over this camp.
HANGMAN:
Guard! Shoot them!. . .
SOUND:
A HAIL OF GUNFIRE FOLLOWED BY THE GUARD’S BODY THUMPING TO THE FLOOR.
LIEUTENANT:
You got the guard!
MERLE:
Yeah, but the head goon is gettin’ away.
HANGMAN:
You no take over. . .I in charge here!
LIEUTENANT:
Look out, Cap’n. . .he’s gonna shoot!
SOUND:
THE HANGMAN SHOOTING HIS PISTOL.
HANGMAN:
You no stop me!
SOUND:
A BURST OF GUNFIRE FROM THE HANGMAN AND MERLE’S PISTOLS, THEN THE HANGMAN GASPING AS HIS BODY THUMPS ONTO THE FLOOR.
LIEUTENANT:
Nice shooting, Cap’n Bass! You got him right in the chest. Looks like he’s still alive, though.
MERLE:
His kind never dies easy. Lieutenant, lower that soldier down from that. . . contraption.
LIEUTENANT:
Yes, sir.
SOUND:
LIEUTENANT’S FOOTSTEPS WALKING TOWARD DANIEL AND THE PULLEY SQUEAKING AS DANIEL IS LOWERED, UNDER. LIEUTENANT(cont’d):(grunting as he lowers Daniel) Hey, looks like the head goon is moving, Cap’n. I think he’s trying to say something.
HANGMAN:
(with difficulty, barely a rasp) You think you win? This only one battle. . .you not stop us. . .tomorrow there be someone else like me. . .there always be. . .someone. . .like. . .me.
MERLE:
Not on my watch. . .
HANGMAN:
(breathing his last with a final death- rattle)
MERLE:
. . .asshole.
SOUND:
THE PULLEY STOPS SQUEAKING. DANIEL GROANING AND CRUMPLING ON THE FLOOR.
LIEUTENANT:
I got him down, Cap’n!
SOUND:
MERLE’S FOOTSTEPS WALKING TO DANIEL.
MERLE:
Let’s see what kind of shape he’s in. (trying to revive Daniel) Soldier!
DANIEL:
(groggy) Huh?
MERLE:
Lean this way so I can cut your ropes.
SOUND:
ROPES BEING CUT WITH A KNIFE.
MERLE (cont’d):
(grunts a bit, then. . .) There.
DANIEL:
(still groggy) What are you doing in my room?
MERLE:
What?
DANIEL:
(like he’s dreaming) What’s going on?. . .Who are you?
LIEUTENANT:
Looks like he’s in some kind of trance. Think they drugged him?
MERLE:
No. I saw this once before. . .when I was being liberated from a POW camp in Korea. We found a marine just sitting in his cell, staring into space. Ever seen someone sleepwalking, Lieutenant?
LIEUTENANT:
Sure have.
MERLE:
He had that same vacant look in his eyes. The Seals told him they were there to rescue him. . .but he wouldn’t hear of it. The guy was convinced he was on his uncle’s ranch
in Wyoming getting ready to ride his favorite stallion. Found out later he’d trained his mind to be somewhere else so the North Koreans couldn’t play their mental tricks on him. (to Daniel, very loud, very stern) Soldier! Listen to me! I want to know your name and rank!
DANIEL:
(groggy) Wha. . .?
MERLE:
Name and rank! What are they?
DANIEL:
(gradually “waking”) Daniel Conway, Private First Class, U.S. Army.
MERLE:
Do you know where you are, Private Conway?
DANIEL:
I’m in. . .I’m in my bedroom.
The Final Battlefield Page 3