War of the Waywards - Withdrawal Scene - 01/17/07 06:11 PM
WAR OF THE WAYWARDS
PRELIMINARY SCRIPT
WITHDRAWAL SCENE
FADE IN:
A GRASSY FIELD OF BATTLE. SUNSET. A YOUNG SCARED LOOKING PRIVATE (PLAYED BY PRE D-DAY CHRISNER) CLUTCHING HIS MUSKET AND CONCEALED BY FALLEN LOGS STARES ACROSS THE FIELD TO A FAR TREELINE SHROUDED IN FOG AND MIST.
A SERGEANT (PLAYED BY POST D-DAY CHRISNER) APPROCHES QUIETLY FROM BEHIND. HE IS HAGGARRD LOOKING WITH A FIVE DAY BEARD AND SUNKEN EYES INDICATING A LACK OF SLEEP. HIS BATTLE SCARRED UNIFORM HANGS LOOSLY. A STUB OF AN UNLIT CIGAR HANGS FROM HIS MOUTH.
SARGE
Any signs of the Waywards Private?
Private Chrisner looks up hopefully to Sarge.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
No Sarge. Nothing but the fog. Maybe we whipped em Sarge.
Maybe they are on the run. Maybe the war is over.
Sarge pats the young soldier reassuringly on the shoulder.
SARGE
Son, you heard General Believer and Colonel Melody.
This will be a long, long fight and we have to remain vigilant.
We can’t let them link up again.
That must be prevented at all costs.
Private Chrisner reaches into his backpack and pulls out some hardtack, looks up to Sarge and offers it to him.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
Sarge, maybe you should take this.
You have lost a lot of weight lately.
Sarge stares across the field to the fog mindlessly rubbing at his chest wound he received on the first day of the war.
SARGE
No thanks son. I am never hungry anymore.
Sarge and Private Chrisner stare toward the fog.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
But Sarge, I still don’t understand.
When the war started the Waywards told us they didn’t want to hurt us. The said it was only about them.
Sarge removes his cigar and spits.
SARGE
Son.......They lied.
PRELIMINARY SCRIPT
WITHDRAWAL SCENE
FADE IN:
A GRASSY FIELD OF BATTLE. SUNSET. A YOUNG SCARED LOOKING PRIVATE (PLAYED BY PRE D-DAY CHRISNER) CLUTCHING HIS MUSKET AND CONCEALED BY FALLEN LOGS STARES ACROSS THE FIELD TO A FAR TREELINE SHROUDED IN FOG AND MIST.
A SERGEANT (PLAYED BY POST D-DAY CHRISNER) APPROCHES QUIETLY FROM BEHIND. HE IS HAGGARRD LOOKING WITH A FIVE DAY BEARD AND SUNKEN EYES INDICATING A LACK OF SLEEP. HIS BATTLE SCARRED UNIFORM HANGS LOOSLY. A STUB OF AN UNLIT CIGAR HANGS FROM HIS MOUTH.
SARGE
Any signs of the Waywards Private?
Private Chrisner looks up hopefully to Sarge.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
No Sarge. Nothing but the fog. Maybe we whipped em Sarge.
Maybe they are on the run. Maybe the war is over.
Sarge pats the young soldier reassuringly on the shoulder.
SARGE
Son, you heard General Believer and Colonel Melody.
This will be a long, long fight and we have to remain vigilant.
We can’t let them link up again.
That must be prevented at all costs.
Private Chrisner reaches into his backpack and pulls out some hardtack, looks up to Sarge and offers it to him.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
Sarge, maybe you should take this.
You have lost a lot of weight lately.
Sarge stares across the field to the fog mindlessly rubbing at his chest wound he received on the first day of the war.
SARGE
No thanks son. I am never hungry anymore.
Sarge and Private Chrisner stare toward the fog.
PRIVATE CHRISNER
But Sarge, I still don’t understand.
When the war started the Waywards told us they didn’t want to hurt us. The said it was only about them.
Sarge removes his cigar and spits.
SARGE
Son.......They lied.