"Meanwhile"the movie

the theatre piece

owned and written by Philodendron Chase(sequel of the blockbuster - ’Spellhold’)

ACT ONE: IN THE DARK

It is pitch black on the stage. Rushed whispers and muffled sounds of tossing can be heard.

HOPPER: Pssst! I think there’s someone on the other side of this wall!

CLAWS: How the hell would you know?! I can’t see anything in here!

Pause.

HOPPER: Dunno. My spider sense’s tingling.

CLAWS (irritated): Hopper. You ain’t have no spider sense. That thing had one.

ALICE: Stop bickering, boys! You don’t want me to come over and knock your heads tog~ EEEE!

The sound of bricks scraping against each other, then the gang spills out from the secret passageway. The stage lights up – they’re in some heavily ornate room, still in Spellhold. They hit themselves hard, lie on the floor ouching for a while, in a dog pile.

Soon, the boys get up.

CLAWS, exhausted and beaten, raises a broken chair leg in anticipation of danger. His eyes adjust to the gloom of the room. With the other hand helps ALICE stand up. HOPPER covers them with the meanest looking heavy crossbow ever.

Pause.

MAN: Well-well-well! What have we here?

A pompous, raspy voice speaks. The gang jumps in surprise. MAN is only a shadow sitting in the shady back of the room, in a baroque armchair. Everything’s shady, neglected and baroque in Spellhold. This place looks like a study, long out of use.

MAN: If my memory serves me well, I’m inclined to say you my dears are my first visitors in years. Please forgive me for not greeting you with a bow in an adequate gentleman like manner. This handicapped state of mine limits me to this very armchair you see.

CLAWS looks at HOPPER. HOPPER glances back at him, then they both glare at MAN. Finally they look back at ALICE in tandem, visibly puzzled by the situation.

Pause.

ALICE: It doesn’t seem he’s an enemy.

HOPPER (grumbles): He doesn’t seem like anything it’s so dark in here.

CLAWS casts a spell.

CLAWS: Maximized ‘Light’!

Candles light up all around with fairy fire.

Pause.

HOPPER lowers his bigass crossbow, his jaw drops. Then he smacks CLAWS on the head.

HOPPER: Couldn’t you’ve done that back in the tunnel, you jackass?!

CLAWS: Ouch!

Pause.

ALICE: Mmmm.. Guys...?

She points at MAN, who’s an old corpse, much like a mummy. It’s sitting confined to the armchair, arms crossed over the chest, the skull rolled back against the cushioning. Visibly, the undead can’t move an inch let alone attack.

Pause.

Jaws drop again.

MAN: Please don’t be afraid of my sorry appearance and I beg you – take a seat already! It makes me look uncourteous if I’m the only one sitting in a lady’s presence.

The gang exchanges meaningful looks, then they cross the stage warily and sticking close to each other. HOPPER checks every nook and cranny in the room for very much expected horrors. The crossbow is readied.

ALICE sits down into the only unoccupied chair. HOPPER lowers the bigass crossbow, collapses down by her feet, then pulls on the filthy, unholy-looking bandages wrapped around his neck as if it was a shirt and it was summertime. His whole body’s all bound up in those bandages. CLAWS leans against the chair, looks like a mother wolf looking over the cubs.

MAN: You must be chilled to the bone and ravenous...Well unfortunately I’m unable to offer you anything to eat except for my own putrefied flesh, but feel free to build a campfire and use the cocktail cabinet.

No one moves.

MAN (oblivious to the suspecting/disgusted/horrified glares): Visitors! I’m so very excited I must sound like a ‘miss’ right before her first ball! Come on, come on and don’t be perplexed by this undead state of mine! Age didn’t go easy on me, as you might be able to observe. Oh, and how mighty foolish of me, I even forgot to introduce myself – You may call me the high mage Melvenor, or m’lord, the conjurer of the place you know very well as Spellhold.

EVERYONE: WAI~??

HOPPER: You’re...?!

ALICE (gasps): You mean...?

CLAWS: Melvenor?!

MELVENOR: Yes, of course. Did I stutter?

CLAWS: But you are...

MELVENOR, earlier simply MAN blabbers away some silliness.

ALICE (regaining her composure): Claws! Hopper! You forget your manners!

She scolds like a maternal angel, then she puts her best smile on and curtsies before the corpse of MELVENOR.

ALICE: My name is Alice Teppelin m’lord.

MELVENOR (most friendly and gallant): Well, I find that a familiar name enough... But who might your companions be?

CLAWS and HOPPER glance at each other, then shrug in accord.

CLAWS: Ermh... Well, I’m Casimir, and that’s Rousseu.

HOPPER: And this is my darling.

He gently strokes the bigass crossbow.

HOPPER: I call her Vera.

CLAWS: Yeah, thanks for the introduction Hopper. Now, I’ll just... I think I’ll cover my face for a minute. With my palm.

He does so, rolling his eyes, then sneaks a glance at Alice. She’s not paying attention to him.

MELVENOR: Mr. Casimir, Mr. Rousseu, then be welcomed – although a bit late – in my home, Spellhold. And Ms. Teppelin, your cherubic features, as always, lighten up my undying existence like the Holy Light itself. Forgive me if I’m too forthcoming and bold, but I suspect a breathtaking story in your lot being here, one that I would gladly hear out with glee. So please, tell me about you perils and adventures in a way you see most entertaining and fit!

CLAWS: Ermh.... Okay. I guess.

LIGHTS OFFEND OF ACT ONE

ACT TWO: OPERA HALL

Darkness all around, the spotlight focuses on CLAWS, the NARRATOR.

NARRATOR: There were prodigies and portents enough, but I guess we must blame ourselves for trusting Chanter too much. Crisis’ tremendous amount of experience in no way impairs his marvelous naiveté.

The spotlight lights up a muted scene behind the NARRATOR. CRISIS and CHANTER argue, the PARTY stands by. The light goes out before the NARRATOR continues:

NARRATOR: That weasel apprentice of yours, Gascar was ought to use us. Chanter was ought to sell us out for power. We didn’t have a choice though. We’ve lost enough good men thus far, we were longing for peace with at least one of the monsters of this deathtrap you’ve conjured up, Melvenor. But pardon me, I digress. So -- I told Crisis it wasn’t a good omen Gascar had sealed all the exits of the Arcane Sanctum. I told him we were in the same situation the syndicate twins had been earlier -- trapped. He said we’d make our way out nevertheless. That he’d keep us safe.

From the dark, reassuringly:

CRISIS: I’ll keep you safe.

CRISIS steps forward.

NARRATOR: I asked him: how? Here in Spellhold, he has the advantage over us.

CRISIS: Everyone always does.

He said smiling sadly.

CRISIS: That’s what makes us special.

Then, still kind of melancholic, he disappears.

NARRATOR: I said I believed him. I don’t anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in him. That’s not something that’ll ever go away. Because he has a just heart and if anyone, he can defeat evil wherever it lurks. So I don’t blame him for anything. Not really. Every fool can make an omen of anything in retrospect. It’s the only thing I can do, because I’m no visionary. It’s him that can peer into the future. So. I’m positive he suspected what was about to happen. The injustice of dealing with Gascar, the role, the trap we were forced into – he must’ve seen through it all. There’s no way he can’t discern the true nature of something he sets his eye upon.

The whole stage lights up. Masked figures move about. The PARTY’s there too, dressed as: Scarlet Commander, Blood Guard, a Peacock, an Ogre, etc. Everything’s muffled, but there’s conversation. Everyone’s cutting into each other’s words.

The scene freezes, when CRISIS and GASCAR meet. So does the atmosphere.

NARRATOR: And thus the night of the bargain, the night of the opera came.

People take seats; an empty ‘opera stage’ forms on one side of the space.

NARRATOR: The night we finally confronted Slayer.

SLAYER makes a swinging entrance via a chandelier. He lands on the ‘opera stage’ – with one hand he holds the hand of a KID. KID’s face is obscured by a heavy scarf. SLAYER’s identity’s hidden too, but it’s obvious he’s the BIG BAD: people gasp, faint, scream. A manic look flashes up on GASCAR’s face. Only CHANTER and CRISIS keep their cool. SLAYER draws his sword and yells –

SLAYER: This is the only line of defense.

He slashes a line into the stage with the sword.

SLAYER: Those on my side live. Those on the other – die.

Then KID clutches his hands in prayer, and some sort of glowing protective magic barrier thingy forms around them in a roomy circle. KID informs the audience then:

KID: There’ve been incidents in the past in the result of which the security and good reputation of the mage’s mansion you know as Spellhold has been compromised. But be assured, all those who seek sanctuary in the upcoming confrontation shall be sheltered. So please refrain from resistance and come to me so that you won’t come to harm. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

Heavy silence, then –

SLAYER lunges forward.

NARRATOR: I remember it like a nightmare, the epic, genuine horror of that battle. The manic look on Gascar’s crazy mug, the resigned Alice beside him. Crisis yelling orders, unsheathing his sword. Up on the balcony, Chanter in anticipation of combat. The righteous, arcane fury emanating from Slayer’s presence that said:

CHOIR: Unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like you should just die, unclean people like just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die just die, just die, just die, just die, just die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die,

die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, you are going to die.

NARRATOR: Hell was unleashed. Spells and debris flew in abundance. The balcony collapsed onto the seats down below. Wood and marble got disintegrated, people struck down. Slayer was a blur of death, Gascar a maniac, Crisis the warrior of the people. He took point, shielded bystanders, parried blows gone astray. As he clashed with Slayer, their fencing was somewhat legendary.

Lights blaze up then go dark on stage, magical special effects go crazy. The battle of SLAYER and the PARTY rages on in epileptic flashes. The audience must be shocked. Hell, we were shocked back then.

Quickly the battle is muted, from a point it goes on without a sound. NARRATOR catches up with the narrative:

NARRATOR: I was in combat paralysis until my eyes connected with those of Crisis. I think our souls followed suit. It was something primal, something that only exists between men of equal standing and respect, between sworn brothers-in-arms. He roared something I couldn’t hear well, but it was kind of telepathic. I knew he trusted me to do what’s necessary, what he couldn’t have done in his position. I nodded in comprehension and darted off to rescue Alice. I knew he could beat Slayer and save the day even without me.

NARRATOR\CLAWS runs off-scene.

LIGHTS OFFEND OF ACT TWO

INTERLUDE: CORRIDOR FIGHT

CLAWS runs up stairs, along corridors. Not really, he’s just running off stage, then on, while the staff assistants move the set, but the intention is the same. Suddenly, Gascar’s HENCHMEN materialize, encircling ALICE. CLAWS ducks behind cover. HENCHMEN and ALICE move to the centre. We see CLAWS’ face, the wheels in his head turning. Then –

CLAWS: SLEEP!

He yells and throws something at the group of HENCHMEN. ALICE collapses in the middle, sound asleep. The masked guys just raise their arms for battle. Resist, resist, resist. Rogue HENCHMEN disappear in a puff of smoke, tank HENCHMAN taunts, caster prepares some nasty mojo.

CLAWS: Well, shit…

CLAWS makes up his mind and charges like a pussy, eyes closed, his battle cry faint with mortal fear. But yet he charges forward. He takes tank HENCHMAN off-guard, but bounces off the towering colossus of muscle. The otherwise mute and humorless HENCHMEN burst out laughing, which infuriates CLAWS to no end. He cries:

CLAWS: MAXIMIZED LIGHT!

When the lighting dims to an endurable quality, he and ALICE are gone. A wild chase scene ensues; they run up stairs, along corridors. The HENCHMEN pursue. Doors open, doors are closed. Finally, the escapees run out of breath. CLAWS can be seen kneeling and gasping on stage. He’s leaning forward onto his knuckles, his head is low. He is muttering something, like a mantra.

CLAWS: Hold your head low, aim for the throat, hold your head low, aim for the throat, hold your head low, aim for the throat, hold your head low, aim for the throat, hold your head low, aim for the throat, hold your head low, aim for the throat…

Tank HENCHMAN catches up first, then the others appear. They surround CLAWS.

HENCHMAN #1: What’s he saying?

HENCHMAN #2: Dunno.

Pause.

CLAWS: FROST NOVA!!!

Blinding blue light radiates from him, thanks to some magical special effects (MSE). Muffled sounds of struggle can be heard, low battle cries and the cracking of knuckles crashing against jaws. But when all is visible again, he’s nailed to the ground, still tossing around though. Tank HENCHMAN is holding him in a death lock. He’s preparing for the kill. Everyone else is offed.

CLAWS: Let’s have a match who gives up first!

CLAWS kicks the guy in the groin. His hold tightens.

CLAWS: OK, I give up, I give up!!

Suddenly ALICE rises up behind tank HENCHMAN like the shadow of death. The scene holds for a sec, then she crashes a very old and expensive Ming dynasty vase against the back of his skull. Thus tank HENCHMAN is offed too. She helps CLAWS get up then, and they both walk off into the sunset go offstage holding hands. ALICE’s mumbling continuously. She’s weepy, thankful:

ALICE: I knew you wouldn’t let me down, you wouldn’t let HIM lay his hands on me again, you would come to rescue me, and this entire selling-me-out plot was just a ruse…

CLAWS: Shh. We’ll be alright from now on…

ALICE: You promise?

CLAWS: Yeah, I finally found you. What could go wrong?

As soon as they are out of line of sight, the sound of a trapdoor opening can be heard, and then muffled screams. The last word echoes for a time afterwards: “wrong, wrong, wrong, ong, ng, g”

LIGHTS OFFEND OF INTERLUDE

ACT THREE: THE LAIR OF KORUMVORAX

The set now is that of a creepy gloomy cavern of sorts, only silhouettes can be seen. There are kind of hills towering here and there. All this is covered in thick cobwebs, and there’s no light whatsoever. CLAWS and ALICE are only shades against the deeper darkness of a looming, inhuman figure in the background, but they’re oblivious of it as of yet. They both lie there in extreme ouchiness, tangled up in each other like teenagers doing it for the first time. But of course they’re not doing it.

CLAWS (in a low, ouchy voice): Alice? Are you alright?

ALICE: I think so…

Pause.

ALICE: Claws? Are you…? I-I think your leg’s broken. I can feel the bone sticking out…

CLAWS: Mmm… I don’t think it’s my leg you’re talking about.

Dim light pours down on them. ALICE is holding a leg bone. As soon as she realizes it, she screams, throws it away. It bounces down from one of those hills. There’re bones and skulls and ancient looking stuff aplenty. There are heaps of them.

ALICE: What is this place?

Pause. They get up. CLAWS is wary, ALICE still agitated, but not scared. They go a small circle; find DYSFUNCT GOLEM laying there, its arcane-doodle-control runes light up a bit in azure as they get near to it. It has a faint, high, mechanic voice.

DYSFUNCT GOLEM: …too…oo…. [static] many sy-systems dysfunctional. Low priority functions di-disabled first, main priority is p-p-preservation of e-e-e-nergy.

White noise, DYSFUNCT GOLEM is struggling to turn its head.

DYSFUNCT GOLEM: …you’re not the Creator-or-or-r-r-r…

It’s enormous and looks like a huge knight in full armor, but there are pieces missing from it. There’s a cavity in its chest, as if the front plate had been ripped off with brute force. More of the weird runes show up inside, as it inches about.

DYSFUNCT GOLEM: …a-a-a-am I going to die? I-i-i-i-I don’t want to die. Pl-ple-ee-ee-eeasa [static] don’t deactivate me, I’m still functional-al-al-al…

Its voice trails off, its lights go out.

CLAWS: I think this is a graveyard.

LOOMING INHUMAN FIGURE IN THE BACK: You’re quite mistaken, but not by far.

The gang jumps in tandem.

ALICE: Who..?!

CLAWS: Wha?!

LOOMING INHUMAN FIGURE IN THE BACK: For I, the Crypt Lord Korumvorax live here, you see.

KORUMVORAX moves forward. It moves cautiously, without much sound. Like its speech, its existence is a whisper too. Eight limbs come to view, a humanoid torso with an arachnid body and face. It’s wrapped in unholy looking mummy bandages and is wearing sort of a burial mask and royal jewelry stuff. It’s polite and well-mannered, but not goofy a childish like MELVENOR had been in ACT ONE.

CLAWS (hold your head low, aim for the throat): You’re an undead.

KORUMVORAX: It’s an unfortunate existence indeed, but its origin is not my fault I can assure you. But as they say if life gives you lemons, go make lemonade.

CLAWS: Whatever you say.

Pause.

ALICE (head held high): Are you going to kill us?

KORUMVORAX: Why no!

Pause.

KORUMVORAX: Not you, at least.

ALICE: You have plans for me.

KORUMVORAX: I’ve heard about you, sweetheart. My children say, you’re quite valuable to some people above.

CLAWS: She’s valuable to me too.

Or invaluable more likely.

CLAWS: You’re not taking her away. Not again, not anyone.

KORUMVORAX: Yes-yes-yes. Sadly your opinion is of no consequence right now, little boy.

Do you see what I see?

Yeah.

Can you?

We’ll see. Let’s unleash absolute nastiness!

Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

I just keep falling and rolling forward like a klutz

is pretty damn wounded, possibly deader than a dead thing.

i elbowed my way out.

staring foolishly at the back of a foolishly brave girl

slams him in the face with something, sending him flying back into the stage.

and both men lie there in extreme ouchiness

He lowers his head. She puts her hand on it, a kind of benediction. We hold on them a second.

I feel kind of unholy

you mean unclean?

no, I dunno. ok im dirty and i stink, but these bandages… its like theres some unholy vigor radiating from it. into me.

well, sure buddy. knock yourself out