FADE IN:


EXT.  THE FULL MOON, CLOSE  NIGHT

It nearly fills the screen, swimming mysteriously in the
warm late summer air.

SOUND: Crickets.

THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY DOWN TO:


EXT.  TRAIN TRACKS IN THE COUNTRY  NIGHT - AND MOONLIGHT

CREDITS BEGIN.

A rail-rider comes chugging along the tracks. Aboard is
ARNIE WESTRUM, a big man in a strappy T-shirt and chino
pants. He is drinking beer.

		ARNIE (sings)
	My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
	Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...

He drains the rest of his own bottle of Rheingold and tosses
it to one side. Up ahead we see a switching point.

ARNIE throws the rail-rider into neutral, opens the toolbox
on the back, and brings out a big five-cell flashlight. He
shines it on the switch.

He gets a crowbar from the toolbox, plus a big wrench, a
pair of pliers, a hammer, and a pair of work gloves. He also
gets another bottle of beer and sticks it into his back
pocket.

ARNIE jumps down and approaches the switch.

CREDITS CONTINUE.


EXT. ARNIE, AT THE SWITCHING POINT  NIGHT

He drops his tools, pulls on his work gloves, and trains the
light on the switch for a moment. During this:

		ARNIE (sings)
	It's not bitter, not sweet, it's a real
	frosty treat, won't you try, won't you
	buy Rheingold beer...

He tries the switch. No go. It's frozen.

		ARNIE
	Stuck tighter'n dogshit in a deep freeze!

He takes the bottle of beer from his back pocket and fishes
a churchkey from one of the front ones. He pops the cap and
drinks deeply. He burps. Then he screws the half-empty
bottle of beer into the cinders so it won't fall over. Then
he picks up his crowbar.

CREDITS CONTINUE.


EXT.  THE RAIL-RIDER  NIGHT

There's a SOUND of bushes shaking. Something comes out -
something huge. It leaps limberly onto the rail-rider. It is
a werewolf with greenish-yellow eyes. Tatters of clothes
still hang from it.

What kind of monster, exactly? It is humanoid as well as
wolfish... and when we learn who it is in its human form, we
should be able to spot the resemblance at once...and kick
ourselves for not knowing earlier.

It crouches there, huge and bushy and fanged and deadly, on
the whole rail-rider.

CREDITS CONCLUDE.


EXT.  ARNIE  NIGHT

He's working the crowbar into the junction point just as
hard as he can. Swearing at it under his breath. Suddenly,
both the tracks and the switch move.

		ARNIE
	Hot damn! Now... a little oil...

He turns back toward the rail-rider.


EXT.  ARNIE, ARRIVING AT THE RAIL-RIDER  NIGHT

		ARNIE
	It's not bitter, not sweet... it's
	a big fuckin' treat...

A NOISE - bushes rattling; cinders clinking and rattling.
ARNIE looks around.


EXT.  THE RAILS AND THE SWITCHING POINT, ARNIE'S POV  NIGHT

Nothing there. His bottle of beer stands by the litter of
his tools.


EXT.  ARNIE, AT THE RAIL-RIDER  NIGHT

He's rooting around in the toolbox, back to the switching
point.


EXT.  ARNIE'S BOTTLE OF BEER, CU  NIGHT

A hairy hand/paw closes around it - we see huge curved claws
on that hand.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF'S FACE, CU  NIGHT

Glaring green-yellow eyes; a savage, beastial face which is
still half human. That's all we see. The rest is in shadow.
It opens its mouth and upends the bottle of beer. Foamy
Rheingold begins gurgling down the werewolf's throat.


EXT.  ARNIE AT THE RAIL-RIDER  NIGHT

He comes up with an old-fashioned oilcan, the kind with the
long spout. He starts back to the switching point, waving
the can.

		ARNIE (sings)
	My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
	Think of Rheingold whenever you fry beer...

He arrives, looks down... and stops singing. His eyes widen.


EXT.  THE CINDERS BY THE TRACK, ARNIE'S POV  NIGHT

We can see the hole where ARNIE put his beer, but it is of
course empty. Beside it are two huge prints in the cinders,
half wolf, half human.


EXT.  ARNIE  NIGHT

He's beginning to be afraid. Beginning to look around to see
what might be out here with him. Beginning to realize he is
in extremely deep shit.

SOUND: A SHATTERING, SNARLING ROAR


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF  NIGHT

It rises up on its hind legs, eyes glaring an ugly yellow
green. Its snout wrinkles back, revealing those teeth.


EXT.  ARNIE  NIGHT

He's craning back to look at the thing, his face a grue of
horror.

		ARNIE
	Oh n-

A huge clawed hand/paw comes sweeping down. ARNIE's head is
granted an immediate Reno-style divorce from the rest of his
body.


EXT.  THE RAIL-RIDER  NIGHT

SOUND of the beast approaching. A hairy arm and taloned hand
reaches into the toolbox bolted to the back and rummages.
The hand is dripping blood.

It comes up with a bottle of Rheingold.

The WEREWOLF begins to sing. It is a bizarre funny-horrible
grunting, the words hellishly recognizable.

		WEREWOLF (gutteral; subhuman)
	My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...

No bottle opener for this thing; it brings the neck of the
bottle down sharply on the edge of the toolbox. Beer foams
out.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF'S FACE, IN DEEP SHADOW  NIGHT

He/It rams the jagged neck of the bottle deep into its mouth
and drinks. Foam drizzles down its pelt. It's grinning.

		WEREWOLF (snarling voice)
	Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU  NIGHT

The bottle is empty. There are CRUNCHING SOUNDS as it begins
to eat the bottle.

Blood begins to run out of its mouth; its face wrinkles in
pain and fury. It spits out broken, bloody jags of glass.

Looks up. It HOWLS.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS  NIGHT - MOONLIGHT

We're looking at Main Street of a small country town - might
be New England, might be mid-South. Might be 1984, might be
1981. This is Tarker's Mills, and in places like this, time
moves more slowly. Cars - not too many - move back and
forth. No one is in a hurry.

We see the Methodist church (and the parsonage next door);
Andy's Sporting Goods; Owen's Pub, with its Narragansett
neon sign. We see a barber shop with a striped pole; we see
the Holy Family Catholic Church and the rectory next door.
We see the Gem Theater, which is showing a revival of Sophia
Loren in "Two Women."
It's Our Town, U.S.A.

		JANE (voice-over)
	This place is Tarker's Mills, where I
	grew up... and this is how it was when I
	was fourteen - a place where people cared
	about each other as much as they cared
	about themselves. This is how my town
	looked as, all unknowing, it approached the
	rim of the nightmare. The killing had begun.

SOUND: The HOWL of the WEREWOLF - distant, a bit dreamy.


EXT./INT.  TARKER'S MILLS MONTAGE  NIGHT

a.) VIRGIL CUTTS, owner of Virgil's Texaco, is filling up a
car. We hear the HOWl... and VIRGIL looks up uneasily.
b.) In the barber shop, BILLY McCLAREN, the barber, is just
taking the apron off the Methodist minister, REV. O'BANION.
They both look around.
c.) Folks are coming out of the Gem Theater. They pause at
the sound of that HOWL and look toward the edge of town.


EXT.  THE SETTING MOON, CU  NIGHT

As JANE speaks, we see the moon sink below the horizon.

		JANE (v-o)
	The killing had begun, but at first no
	one knew it. Arnie Westrum was a chronic
	drunk, and what happened seemed like an
	accident.


EXT.  THE RAIL-RIDER AND ARNIE'S HEADLESS BODY  NIGHT

Slowly the view improves, grows lighter, as we TIME-LAPSE TO
DAWN.

SOUND: A train is approaching. We hear its horn.

CAMERA MOVES IN. Here is a shattered Rheingold bottle. There
is a litter of ARNIE'S tools. And here, on the cheek of
ARNIE'S severed head, a few ants are checking things out.

SOUND: The train's horn, MUCH CLOSER.

		JANE (v-o)
	The county coroner concluded that Arnie
	passed out on the tracks. There wasn't
	enough evidence to conclude anything else.

And suddenly the train comes smashing into the frame, horn
blaring. The rail-rider goes flying. ARNIE'S body disappears
underneath. We see something flopping and moving under
there. It could be a bundle of rags. Could be... but isn't.


				DISSOLVE TO:


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS TOWN COMMON  DAY

The common is more or less in the center of town, either
surrounded by Main Street commerce or backed by it. THE
CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY IN on a big tent that's been erected on
the Common - looks like a revival meeting tent, almost, but
the banner draped over the entrance reads: SUPPORT THE
TARKER'S MILLS MEDCU DRIVE!

Behind or to the side, on the grass, picnic tables have been
set out end-to-end. Women are putting salads and home-baked
breads on these - just about the whole town is going to sit
down to a meal when the meeting's over. Further off, men are
tending barbecues, roasting corn, etc.

		JOE HALLER (amplified voice)
	I'd like to give you Father Lester Lowe,
	of Holy Family Catholic Church!

Enthusiastic applause greets this.


INT.  THE CROWD  DAY

Most of the town is here, seated on folding chairs. We're
looking particularly at three people - NAN COSLAW, her
husband BOB, and their fourteen-year-old daughter, JANE. It
is JANE - a slightly older JANE - who we have heard
speaking. She is now a bit bored with the meeting, which has
been going on for some time. As the APPLAUSE CONTINUES, she
leans toward her mother.

		JANE
	I'm going out for a while, 'kay?

		NAN
	All right. Stay close. And make sure your
	brother's all right.

As JANE gets up, the applause starts to fade a bit.

NOTE: JANE is wearing a silver crucifix, and will continue
to wear it through the whole movie.


INT.  THE PODIUM  DAY

To one side is a big black-and-white photograph on an easel.
It shows a van which has been customized into an emergency
medical unit.

Behind the podium are four chairs. REV. TOM O'BANION sits in
one of them. ANDY FAIRTON sits in another, red-faced and
beaming. JOE HALLER, the town constable, is just returning
to his; LESTER LOWE is just approaching the mike as the
applause dies. LOWE'S face shines with love and goodwill.

		LOWE
	For the last ten years...

No amplification. He taps the mike.


INT.  JANE

She is making her way down the row to the aisle (the people
should be seated in folding chairs). She passes a GIRL of
about her own age who has overheard NAN'S parting shot.

		GIRL (mocking)
	"Make sure your brother's all right."

		JANE (low)
	Marty's a booger.

She reaches the aisle and starts out.


INT.  THE PODIUM, FEATURING FATHER LOWE

He taps the mike again.


INT.  THE CROWD, FEATURING BOB AND NAN COSLAW

		BOB (good-natured)
	Just pretend you're in your own church
	askin' for money, father! It'll work fine!

Good-natured laughter greets this.


INT.  LOWE AT THE PODIUM

A bit flustered, he taps the mike and is rewarded by a BRIEF
SCREAM OF FEEDBACK.

		LOWE
	For the last ten years, I have had a
	dream. A dream of a time when modern
	medical care would come to this small
	community, which sometimes seems so far
	from Durham, with her lifesaving
	hospitals. I hope that this meeting, at
	which I see so many of my friends
	gathered, will be the start of making my
	dream come true.

SOUND: Enthusiastic applause.


EXT.  A SNAKE IN THE GRASS, CU

It's a blacksnake... harmless, but big. It goes wriggling
through the grass toward a stream. In the b.g. - SOUND OF
APPLAUSE.

		MARTY (voice)
	Holy...! Brady, are you sure they're
	not poisonous?

		BRADY (voice)
	Little old blacksnake? Hell, no!

Hands - the rather grimy hands of a boy bent on mischief -
grab the blacksnake.


EXT.  MARTY AND BRADY, CU

BRADY holds the snake up. Both boys gaze at it with
respectful wonder.

NOTE: MARTY is wearing a silver St. Cristopher's medallion,
and will through the whole movie.

		MARTY
	Lemme hold him!

BRADY hands it over. As MARTY looks at the snake, BRADY
sees:


EXT.  JANE, COMING OUT OF THE TENT  DAY

		JANE (v-o)
	I was almost fifteen that summer. My
	brother Marty was eleven. Marty and his
	friend Brady Kincaid were the crosses I
	had to bear. Brady was actually the worse
	of the two, but I was rarely disposed to
	see that. Not when my younger brother was
	so constantly thrown in my face by my
	parents.

		LOWE (v-o from the tent)
	$32,000 is a lot of money. But when you
	think of the lives this unit might save, it
	seems very inexpensive indeed.

Applause greets this.


EXT.  MARTY AND BRADY

Again we are fairly tight on the boys - we see them from
waist or chest height. BRADY snatches back the snake.

		BRADY
	I got an idea.

		MARTY
	What?

BRADY looks toward JANE. MARTY follows his gaze. His eyes
widen.

		MARTY
	You wouldn't.

BRADY grins. MARTY assesses the grin.

		MARTY
	You would.


INT.  THE PODIUM, WITH LOWE

		LOWE
	An endeavor like this seems to me to be
	the very definition of community - all
	of us pulling together as one, farmers
	and merchants... Protestants and Catholics...


EXT.  JANE

She is walking slowly toward the picnic area, and is passing
under a tree. There's more applause from the tent.

		BRADY (teasing voice)
	Jane... Jane...

She looks up. The blacksnake dangles down toward her, almost
touching her upturned face.

JANE shrieks and bolts. She gets a little way, trips over
her own feet and falls down hard. She's wearing what was a
nice jumper and nylons. Now the jumper is torn and the hose
shredded at the knees.


EXT.  THE TREE, WITH BRADY

He's lying over a limb with the snake in his hand, laughing
wildly.


EXT.  JANE

She gets up, looks at her clothes, her bloody knees. She's
near tears.


EXT.  MARTY, AT ONE SIDE OF THE TREE, FAIRLY TIGHT

The shot's from the chest up. He looks sorry he was a part
of this little stunt, as he ought to be.

		MARTY
	It was just a blacksnake, Jane-


EXT.  JANE

She looks around at him in a fury of embarrassment and
something very close to hate.

		JANE
	Look at my knees! Look at my dress!
	I hate you!


EXT.  BRADY, UP IN THE TREE

		BRADY
	Did wittle Janie make wee-wee in her
	teddies?


EXT.  MARTY

		MARTY
	Stop it, Brady.


EXT.  BRADY, UP IN THE TREE

He throws the snake.


EXT.  JANE

She dodges the snake with a little scream. She's beginning
to cry, but she flips BRADY the bird just the same.


EXT.  BRADY, IN THE TREE

		BRADY
	Ooooh, naughty!


EXT.  MARTY

He moves toward JANE - there is something queerly unnatural
in this movement, and in a moment we'll understand, but for
the time being we must be puzzled.

		MARTY
	Jane, I'm sorry. It was just a joke. We
	didn't mean-

He's reached her. JANE is sobbing now, hysterical.

		JANE
	Oh, no! You never mean to! I hate you,
	you booger!

She runs away.


EXT.  THE TREE, WITH BRADY

He swings down and comes over to MARTY.

		BRADY (with satisfaction)
	Really got her goat that time.


EXT.  MARTY

He's in a wheelchair, looking glumly after JANE.

		MARTY
	Oh, shut up, Brady. You're warped.


EXT.  NEAR THE BANDSTAND, FEATURING JANE  DAY

She's walking slowly along, still crying a little. Now she
steps behind some bushes, looks around, hikes up the skirt
of her jumper, and wriggles out of the wrecked panty hose.

		STELLA RANDOLPH (voice)
	Wait! Don't go!

Startled, JANE looks around, instinctively yanking her dress
down. No one in sight.

		MAN (voice; rough)
	Just leave me alone!

Now she looks toward:


EXT.  THE BANDSTAND, JANE'S POV

A man who looks like he might be a traveling salesman who
has just stepped whole and breathing from a dirty joke about
the farmer's daughter comes striding down from the
bandstand.

STELLA RANDOLPH, a plump but sweetly pretty girl, comes to
the stairs but does not descend them. She is also crying -
but these are real tears, folks. STELLA is a human Niagara
Falls.

		STELLA (calls)
	Please! You have to help me!


EXT.  THE GAY DECEIVER

		DECEIVER (keeps walking)
	It's your oven, but it ain't my bun
	you're baking in there. Sorry, babe.

B.g. SOUNDS: More applause.


EXT.  JANE

We can hear STELLA sobbing as JANE walks slowly toward the
bandstand with her panty hose still balled up in one hand.
JANE looks suddenly aware that she's not the only one in
this sad world who has troubles. She reaches the foot of the
stairs going up to the bandstand and tosses the hose
absently in a litter can.

JANE mounts the steps timidly.

		JANE
	Stella? Is that you?


EXT.  ON THE BANDSTAND

STELLA has retreated to one of the benches, where she is
bawling into a handful of Kleenex. Pudgy and twenty-two, she
is both funny and terribly sad. She looks around at the
sound of JANE's voice.

		STELLA (alarmed)
	Who - ?

		JANE (approaching closer)
	It's Jane, Stella. Jane Coslaw.

STELLA sees it is, and turns away from her, still weeping.
JANE stands, uncertain what to do next. After a moment she
approaches closer and touches STELLA'S turned back timidly.

		JANE (tenderly)
	What's wrong?

		STELLA (weeping)
	He's going away. I know he is.

		JANE
	Who's going away?

STELLA turns to her, weeping still and distracted.

		STELLA
	What am I going to tell my mother? If
	he won't marry me, what am I going to
	tell my mother?

		JANE (bewildered)
	Stella, I don't know what-

		STELLA
	Oh, leave me alone! Just leave me
	alone, you stupid thing!

STELLA lumbers across the bandstand and down the steps. JANE
stares after her, bewildered and perhaps even a little
frightened.


INT.  THE PODIUM, WITH REV. O'BANION

		O'BANION
	Let us pray.


INT.  THE TOWN HALL GATHERING

Most of them bow their heads.


INT.  REV. O'BANION, AT THE PODIUM

		O'BANION
	May the Grace of God shine upon those
	gathered here... and lift them up... and
	grant success to the endeavor to which
	they have so openheartedly declared their
	support. Amen.


INT.  THE GATHERING

They raise their heads. Some echo the "Amen." Others cross
themselves.


EXT.  THE PICNIC AREA

People are coming out and getting ready to chow-down.


EXT.  THE COSLAW STATION WAGON  DAY

Traveling along a country road. Headed home.


INT.  THE STATION WAGON  DAY

BOB and NAN COSLAW are sitting up front. MARTY and JANE are
in the backseat. JANE is as far from MARTY as she can get.
She's still mad as hell. Band-Aids crisscross her knees.

MARTY'S wheelchair is collapsed in the cargo area of the
wagon.

NAN turns around to look at the kids - and it's really JANE
she's mad at.

		NAN
	I want you two to bury the hatchet.
	You're being very silly, Jane.

		JANE (hot)
	Did you see my knees?

		MARTY
	Jane, I-

		NAN
	I think you're being mean as well as
	silly. Your brother has never had a
	scraped knee in his whole life.

Well, here it is - the chief source of JANE'S animus against
her brother and the source of most of the tension in the
COSLAW family.

MARTY winces and turns away a little, embarrassed - this
always happens. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't know how
to make his parents - his mother in particular - quit it.

		JANE
	You always take his side because he's a
	cripple! Well, it's not my fault that he's
	a cripple!

		MARTY
	Come on, Jane- it was Brady's idea. I
	couldn't stop him.

		JANE
	Brady's a booger and so are you!

		NAN
	Jane Coslaw!

		BOB (roars)
	Stop it or I'll throw the whole bunch of
	you out!

In this traditional family unit, BOB is the Voice of
Authority. They all heed, although the atmosphere remains
thundery.


INT.  THE STATION WAGON  DAY

Train tracks run near the road.


INT.  THE STATION WAGON, ENSEMBLE  DAY

		BOB (points)
	That's where poor old Arnie Westrum
	pitched his last drunk.

He crosses himself and they all look toward:


EXT.  THE GS&WM RAILROAD TRACKS (STATION WAGON'S POV)


INT.  THE CAR  DAY

		BOB
	They had to pick up what was left of
	him in a peach basket.

		JANE
	Oh, Daddy! Gross!

		MARTY
	Did he really get his head cut off, Dad?
	That's what Brady said.

		JANE
	If you don't stop it I'm going to vomit.
	I mean it.

		NAN (no sympathy)
	You're not going to vomit, Jane. And I
	think we've all had quite enough of this
	horror-movie talk.


INT.  MARTY, CLOSER  DAY

Craning back to look at the spot where ARNIE bit the dust.
His face is thoughtful, solemn.


				DISSOLVE TO:


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE  NIGHT

JANE is lying in bed, her face to the wall. Dim light falls
on her unhappy face as the door is opened.

		MARTY (v-o)
	Janey?... Are you awake?

JANE says nothing.


INT.  THE DOOR TO JANE'S BEDROOM, WITH MARTY  NIGHT

He is in his "house wheelchair" - not the Silver Bullet (he
was in the Bullet during the Common scene, but we didn't get
a very good look at it). He has some stuff on his lap. A
box, for sure.

		MARTY
	Can I come in?


INT.  JANE

Her eyes are open but she says nothing. Just looks at the
wall.


INT.  MARTY

He rolls across to her bed and puts something on her night
table. SOUND of change and a rattle of paper. She rolls over
and sees he's put about three bucks on the table. Plus a can
of mixed nuts.

		JANE
	What's the money for?

		MARTY
	A new pair of panty hose. Is it enough?

		JANE
	I don't want your money. You're a booger.

		MARTY
	It was Brady's idea, Jane. Honest to God.
	Please take the money. I want to make up.

She looks at him and sees he's sincere - honestly contrite.
She softens. There's hope for these two kids yet, maybe.

		JANE
	I can get a pair of L'Eggs down at the
	pharmacy for a dollar forty-nine. Here.

She pushes the rest back to him, then looks at the can. She
picks it up, curious.

		MARTY
	That's for you, too. Uncle Al gave it
	to me-

		JANE (scorn)
	That drunk!

		MARTY
	-but I want you to have it.

He gives her a warm, melting smile. When your little brother
is being good to you it's time to watch out - but JANE has
been lulled. She starts to open it, then looks questioningly
at him.

		MARTY
	Yeah, go ahead.

She opens it. A long paper snake - the kind with a spring
inside it - leaps out. She shrieks.

		JANE
	You booger!

MARTY backs up the wheelchair so he's out of her reach.

		MARTY (grinning)
	It really is for your birthday, though -
	try it on Brady. He'll wet his pants.

		JANE
	Go to hell!


INT.  MARTY, BY THE DOOR

		MARTY (smiling)
	I love you, Janey.


INT.  JANE, IN BED

She tries to be angry with him... and cannot (this is a
response, we'll find, that both MARTY and his UNCLE AL
evoke). She smiles at him a little.


INT.  MARTY

He reverses his wheelchair, also smiling a little, and
leaves.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS, UNDER THE MOON  NIGHT

We're looking down at a brave little nestle of lights.

SOUND: A HOWL.


EXT.  A HOUSE SOME DISTANCE OUT IN THE COUNTRY

There's one light on upstairs and another downstairs... also
downstairs is the bluish flicker of TV light.

An ivy trellis climbs one side of the house.

SOUNDS: Canned laughter; TV dialogue.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM OF THE RANDOLPH HOUSE

STELLA'S MOTHER, asleep in front of the TV.


INT.  A PRETTY CHINA DISH, CU

A whole bunch of capsules are dumped into it.

THE CAMERA DRAWS BACK to show us STELLA, sitting by her
vanity mirror. The rest of the room is reflected in the
mirror, including the window - we are upstairs.

[NOTE: It would be nice to see that fat moon floating in the
window!]

There's a framed picture of STELLA's ex-boyfriend on the
vanity beside the dish of pills. STELLA sets down the empty
prescription bottle the pills came from beside this picture.
We can clearly read the word "Nembutol" on it. There is also
a large glass of water on the vanity table.

STELLA turns the picture facedown. She might be crying but
probably she's not. She takes about five of the pills,
starts to lift them to her mouth-

A HOWL outside... closer.

STELLA looks around for a moment, then takes the pills with
some water. She pauses, looking at herself.

		STELLA
	Suicides go to hell. Especially if
	they're pregnant. And I don't even care.

She takes another five pills. And another five.

SOUNDS: Rattling foliage.


EXT.  THE IVY TRELLIS  NIGHT

Claw-hands are seizing it and climbing. SOUNDS of hoarse,
guttural breathing.


INT.  STELLA AT THE VANITY TABLE

She takes another handful of pills... and the window behind
her shatters inward. There is a bellowing roar as the
werewolf throws itself through.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MOTHER

She sits up, startled awake.

From upstairs: ANOTHER SHATTERING ROAR... FOLLOWED BY A
SCREAM.


INT.  STELLA'S ROOM, WITH STELLA

She runs... and a huge claw-hand rips through the back of
her nightgown.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MOTHER

		MOTHER
	Oh my dear God... Stella!

She runs for the doorway and the hall. From upstairs comes a
confusion of SOUNDS: roars, breaking furniture, shattering
glass.


INT.  STELLA'S BED, CU

One of those deadly claw-hands sweeps down the bed, ripping
through the sheets... the mattress... the spring itself.

Hairy, muddy feet with protruding talons leap onto it.


EXT.  STELLA'S WINDOW, EXTREME UP-ANGLE

The werewolf leaps out - it's graceful, savage, animal.

SOUND: A TRIUMPHANT HOWL.


INT.  THE UPSTAIRS HALL, WITH MOTHER

She's found an ancient pistol somewhere and is lugging it
gamely along.

		MOTHER
	Stella!...Stella!

She reaches the closed door of STELLA's room, vacillates
there for a moment... and then pushes it open and goes in.

A long beat of silence as we hold on the door.

MOTHER SHRIEKS.


INT.  MOTHER'S FACE, ECU

She shrieks again.


INT.  STELLA'S ROOM, WIDE

It's a total shambles; blood is splattered everywhere; the
mirror is broken, the picture of DAN the gay deceiver is
broken; the bed is torn in two. There are big, muddy
wolfprints on the remnants of the bed.

STELLA lies propped in the corner with Nembutols all around
her. Suicide may have been what she planned, but it sure
isn't what happened.

MOTHER SHRIEKS.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS MONTAGE  MORNING

a.) MR. PELTZER puts out his paper rack - just the
"Press-Herald" this morning. He looks shocked and grim. The
scare headline: BRUTAL MURDER ROCKS WESTERN MAINE. We can
see STELLA'S photograph.
b.) Through the window of Robertson's Luncheonette, we see
the proprietor, BOBBY ROBERTSON, talking earnestly with a
bunch of men. Among them: MILT STURMFULLER, ALFIE KNOPFLER,
VIRGIL CUTTS, BILLY McCLAREN, and ELMER ZINNEMAN, a farmer
we'll meet later.
c.) At Andy's Sporting Goods, ANDY FAIRTON is putting a big
hand-lettered sign in the window. It reads: REMINGTON
SHOTGUNS SINGLE ACTION DOUBLE ACTION PUMP PROTECT YOURSELF
AND YOUR FAMILY!
d.) At the Methodist parsonage, a '53 Dodge pulls slowly out
and MOTHER RANDOLPH gets out, weeping. As she approaches the
parsonage door, LESTER LOWE comes out and embraces her.


EXT.  A SMALL BRICK BUILDING ON MAIN STREET

The sign reads: TARKER'S MILLS TOWN OFFICE.


INT.  A HALLWAY, FEATURING A DOOR WITH A PEBBLED-GLASS PANEL

Neatly lettered on the panel: TARKER'S MILLS CONSTABULARY.
And below this: JOSEPH HALLER.

		JOE HALLER (voice)
	Okay...yes...Oh, fuck off!


INT.  THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, WITH HALLER AND PETE SYLVESTER

HALLER slams the phone down with an angry bang. He looks
like a guy who has been up all night. PETE, his pudgy
deputy, looks like a high school athlete who has suddenly
found himself batting in the World Series.

		PETE
	What'd they say, Joe?

		HALLER
	They said they'd be here by noon.

		PETE (nervous)
	Maybe it wasn't such a good idea telling
	that Smokey Bear from the Detective
	Division to fuck off, Joe.

		HALLER (morosely)
	I waited until he hung up. Jesus, what a
	mess. I wish I'd stayed in the army. Let's
	go on out there.

He gets slowly up.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS CONSOLIDATED SCHOOL  AFTERNOON

It's a comfortable red-brick building on a side street. Ivy
climbs up the sides. Two or three rows of bikes stand along
one side of the building.

SOUND: The bell rings.

A beat or two, then the doors bang wide and a billion kids
spill out. It's the end of the first day of school, and they
are excited. They range from Grade 1 to Grade 8. Most kids
book it for home as fast as they can, getting on their bikes
and riding or just running.

Everyone has a pink report card.


EXT.  A BUNCH OF KIDS, WITH BRADY KINCAID AND TAMMY
STURMFULLER

BRADY and TAMMY are riding bikes. Now there is the SOUND of
a gasoline engine, and MARTY catches up. He's got the Silver
Bullet's motor running for the first time in the movie.
Later on it will sound extremely powerful, like a racing
car, but now it just sounds like a big lawnmower engine with
a muffler on it. It's pretty cool, though - a bright
metallic silver with flame decals on the motor housing.
Looks sort of like something Big Daddy Roth might have
thought up. On the back is a license plate which says SILVER
BULLET.

		BRADY
	Look out! Look out! It's Madman Marty and
	the Silver Bullet!

TAMMY laughs.

		BRADY
	You glad to be back in jail, Marty?

		MARTY
	Sure - I like school.

		TAMMY
	You booger.

		MARTY
	That's what my sister says, too. Pretty
	soon I'm going to start checking the
	mirror to see if I'm turning green.

		BRADY
	I gotta split - see ya, Marty... Tammy.


EXT.  THE CORNER OF MAIN AND WALNUT, A WIDER SHOT  AFTERNOON

TAMMY and MARTY watch as BRADY zooms off toward home on his
bike.
MARTY pushes in a hand clutch and moves a small lever. He
bumps down over the curb and they cross the street side by
side, TAMMY on her bike, MARTY in his wheelchair.


EXT.  MARTY AND TAMMY FROM THE FAR CURB, REVERSE

He pops up over the curbing with a bounce. He shoves in the
little hand clutch and revs the engine. Va-room!

		MARTY
	Not bad, huh? My Uncle Al took off the
	regular muffler and put on a Cherry Bomb.

		TAMMY
	What's that?

		MARTY
	Glasspack. He said he'd come over sometime
	this summer and we'd soup up the engine...
	but now I dunno. He's getting a divorce and
	he's in the doghouse with my mother.

		TAMMY
	For getting a divorce?

		MARTY
	Well... it is his third.


EXT.  A STREET ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN, WITH MARTY AND
TAMMY

The other kids are gone; they are alone. The sidewalk has
ended and they roll slowly along the dirt verge of the road.
They look toward:


EXT.  THE RANDOLPH HOUSE, MARTY AND TAMMY'S POV

The driveway is blocked off with a sawhorse bearing the
stenciled words POLICE INVESTIGATION. The yard is filled
with cop cars - HALLER'S constable car, plus a number of
state police vehicles. Uniformed men come and go.

We can see a large black wreath on the door.


EXT.  MARTY AND TAMMY

		TAMMY
	Thanks for coming with me, Marty- I was
	scared to go past her house by myself.

		MARTY (matter-of-fact)
	Yeah... it is a little scary.

		TAMMY
	I mean, I saw her. All the time.

TAMMY stops her bike. She's on the verge of tears.

		TAMMY
	I used to see her every day, and she never
	knew what was going to happen to her, and
	neither did I! I mean I know how stupid
	that sounds, but...

		MARTY
	Hey, take it easy. I know how you feel.

He gets the Silver Bullet moving again, and she has to pedal
along to catch up.


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY AND TAMMY

They stop at the end.

		TAMMY
	There's something else scary.

		MARTY
	What?

		TAMMY (points)
	That.


EXT.  OLD GREENHOUSE, MARTY AND TAMMY'S POV

It stands a bit behind the house itself. A creepy place.
Many of the glass panes are broken; some of these - not many
- have been blocked with cardboard. The inside is a jungle
of plants that have run to riot. In the f.g. is a
mucky-looking garden patch where nothing much is growing.


EXT.  MARTY AND TAMMY

She is quite deeply troubled.

		TAMMY
	I've been hearing noises in there.

		MARTY
	What kind of noises?

		TAMMY
	Rattling. Rustling.

		MARTY
	Rats...

		TAMMY
	And my dad says it's kids. But it's not
	rats and it's not kids. It's-


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER HOUSE, WITH MILT

Oh my suds and body, here is the Great American Alcoholic
for sure - the rural version. MILT is wearing a suit of
pee-stained thermal underwear. He's wearing a baseball cap
with the word "Caterpillar" on the front and has a bottle of
beer in one hand (I'm pretty sure that his beer is Rheingold
the dry beer). With his other hand he is busily scratching
his crotch.

		MILT
	Tammy, you get on in here and do some
	dishes!


EXT.  THE GREENHOUSE

Sinister...spooky.

		TAMMY (voice)
	I've got to go.


EXT.  MARTY AND TAMMY

		MARTY
	I'd go out and take a look myself, but I
	think the Bullet'd get stuck in the garden.
	It looks sorta greasy.

She smiles at him, bends over, and kisses him on the mouth.
MARTY is stunned... but happy.

		TAMMY
	You would, wouldn't you?

		MARTY (Joe Cool)
	Sure. No sweat.

		TAMMY
	Well, it's probably nothing. I'm just spooked
	since... you know.

		MARTY
	Yeah... but if you hear any more noises,
	tell your father. Okay?

		TAMMY
	Okay. Have you got enough gas to get home,
	Marty?

		MARTY (Startled)
	Jeez!


EXT.  THE WHEELCHAIR "DASHBOARD," MARTY'S POV

There's a gas gauge here, and the needle is almost on "E."


EXT.  MARTY AND TAMMY

		MARTY
	I'm always doing this! I gotta go, Tammy.

		MILT (voice)
	TAMMY!

		TAMMY (calls)
	Coming Daddy! (To MARTY) Bye... thanks
	again for coming home with me.

She waves and goes biking down the driveway as MARTY motors
back onto the street and turns toward town.


EXT.  TAMMY

She brings her bike to a stop by her father.

		MILT
	'Bout time. Why you want to hang around
	that cripple?

		TAMMY
	I like him.

		MILT
	Goddamn cripples always end up on welfare.
	Ought to electrocute all of 'em. Balance
	the fucking budget.

Having delivered this pearl of wisdom, MILT goes inside, now
scratching his ass. TAMMY pauses a moment and looks toward
THE CAMERA, her face troubled and scared.


EXT.  THE DESERTED GREENHOUSE, TAMMY'S VIEW


			DISSOLVES TO:


EXT.  MARTY

He's buzzing along toward downtown, which is still some
distance away - but at least he's made it back to the
sidewalk again.

		MARTY (prayerfully)
	Come on, baby-

He looks down at:


EXT.  THE WHEELCHAIR GAS GAUGE, MARTY'S POV

Now the needle is lying all the way over on "E."


EXT.  VIRGIL'S TEXACO  LATE AFTERNOON

MARTY pulls in. The wheelchair motor starts to pop and lug
and misfire. The chair makes it to the first pump on the
island closest to the street and then stalls as VIRGIL CUTTS
comes over.

		VIRGIL
	Well, Marty! I see you lucked out again!

		MARTY
	Yep. Would you fill it up, please, Mr. Cutts?

		VIRGIL
	Want me to check the oil?

		MARTY
	Sure!

		VIRGIL
	Wipe the windshield an check the driver's
	bullshit level?

MARTY laughs; VIRGIL starts carefully pumping gas into the
Silver Bullet's small tank.


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE  NIGHT

Overhead is the moon, three days past the full.

		UNCLE AL (voice)
	I'll see your Carlton Fiske and raise you
	a George Brett... a Dave Kingman... and a
	Rod Carew.


INT.  THE KITCHEN DOORWAY, WITH NAN COSLAW  NIGHT

She's wiping her hands with a dishtowel and looks like she
just bit into a lemon.


INT.  THE DEN, WITH UNCLE AL AND MARTY  NIGHT

UNCLE AL is the family's sheep of a darker color. He's
thirty, good-looking, raffish. He's also drunk. He's got
both whiskey and beer. An ashtray beside him overflows with
butts.

He and MARTY are playing draw poker for MARTY'S baseball
cards. Each has a pile in front of him.

MARTY really loves UNCLE AL... his eyes just glow when he
looks at him.

		MARTY
	Okay, okay. I call.

He tosses in three baseball cards.

		UNCLE AL
	Wait a minute, wait a minute!

He grabs one of MARTY'S cards, looks at it, and tosses it
back.

		UNCLE AL
	Ralph Houk! You can't bet a manager!
	Stone the crows!

		MARTY
	Okay, okay. Dwight Evans.

		UNCLE AL
	Piss on him. Piss on all the Red Sox.

He swallows whiskey and chases it with beer.


INT.  THE DEN, A WIDER ANGLE

NAN comes briskly over. She's seen and heard enough. She
favors UNCLE AL with a glare and then looks protectively at
MARTY.

		NAN
	Come on, Marty- bedtime.

She starts to wheel him away.

		MARTY
	Mom-!

		UNCLE AL
	Let the boy finish the game, Nan.

He means it, drunk or not. She reluctantly rolls MARTY back
to the table.

		NAN
	Make it quick.

UNCLE AL lays down his hand.

		UNCLE AL
	Three kings.

		MARTY (delighted)
	I got a straight to the queen!

		UNCLE AL
	Bullshit luck!

		NAN (outraged)
	That's enough!

		MARTY (as his mother wheels him away)
	Aww, Mom-!


INT.  THE STAIRWELL OF THE COSLAW HOME

MARTY is sitting in a stair chair that rises slowly to the
second floor. He looks dejected and glum.

SOUND of NAN hectoring her brother AL. I don't think we can
make out all of what's going on, but we've all known women
like NAN and I think we can fill in the blanks. "Christian
household... you come here drunk and expect... can't even
bother to call ahead..." Etc., etc.

A wheelchair stands on the second-floor landing. This one is
no Silver Bullet, only the more humble sort that moves by
arm power. When the stair chair clicks to a stop, MARTY
hoists himself from it into the wheelchair and rolls down
the hall toward the bathroom.

Below, NAN'S rant is still going on.


INT.  THE DEN, WITH NAN AND UNCLE AL  NIGHT

UNCLE AL is clearing up in a kind of drunken stupor- and I
mean he is really drunk. He's smoking one cigarette; another
is smoldering away in the heaping ashtray. He drops a pile
of baseball cards on the floor and bonks his head on the
table bending down to pick them up.

		NAN
	I don't want you drinking around Marty.
	That's too much. If you can't stop it,
	you better stay away.

AL straightens up. There is a sort of command force in this
man, and here he is partly able to rise above his abysmal
drunkenness so we can see it.

		UNCLE AL
	I come here because Marty needs a friend.

		NAN
	Yes... you've always been that to him.
	But if you can't leave your booze in
	whatever dump you call home, you better
	just stay away.

She leaves the room, almost crying. UNCLE AL looks after
her, and then his attention is drawn to the smoldering
ashtray. He pours beer over the mess, putting out the fire
but creating something that looks even worse. He begins
drunkenly picking up again.

		UNCLE AL (to himself)
	Another wonderful time at Sister Nan's
	house! Heeyyy!


INT.  THE UPSTAIRS COSLAW BATHROOM

MARTY, now in pj's, is brushing his teeth.

JANE comes in- she's wearing a nightie.

		MARTY
	Mom was really mad at him this time,
	wasn't she?

		JANE
	What do you expect, when he comes in
	smelling like a brewery and looking like
	an unmade bed?

		MARTY
	Stop it!

He lunges at her, but JANE steps back easily. MARTY
overbalances and falls out of the wheelchair. His toothbrush
clatters across the tile.

		BOB COSLAW (sleepy voice)
	Hey! That you, Marty?

		JANE
	He's okay, Dad!

She looks around swiftly, then bends down.


INT.  MARTY AND JANE, A MUCH CLOSER SHOT

One of MARTY'S cheeks is pressed against the floor. His eyes
are shut. He's weeping.

		JANE (low)
	Marty, are you all right?

		MARTY
	Yes. Go away.

		JANE
	Let me help you up.

		NAN (voice)
	Marty?

SOUND of her climbing the stairs.

JANE throws a quick look back over her shoulder and then
helps MARTY up in his chair. He helps by pulling on the sink
counter. JANE has time to give MARTY one quick look- "Please
don't tell on me," it says.

NAN comes in.

		NAN
	Jane, have you been teasing your
	brother again?

		MARTY
	She wasn't, Mom- I dropped my toothbrush
	and fell over when I tried to get it. Jane
	helped pick me up.

He bats his eyes at her.

		MARTY (syrupy voice)
	Jane's wunnnderful.

JANE picks up his toothbrush.

		JANE (hands it to him)
	Here. Brush them good, Marty. Some of that
	shit in your head might leak down into your
	mouth and poison you.

		NAN
	Jane Coslaw!

But JANE stalks off. MARTY is grinning. It was a good
put-down.


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER HOUSE  NIGHT

We can see the moon in the sky beyond the ruined greenhouse.

THE CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY TOWARD the greenhouse. We begin to
pick up SOUNDS: RATTLING...RUSTLING...and low animal GRUNTS.


INT.  TAMMY'S BEDROOM  NIGHT

She's deeply asleep.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM  NIGHT

"Big-time Wrestling" on the TV. SOUND of a refrigerator door
closing. MILT STURMFULLER comes into the living room from
the kitchen. He's wearing his long johns with the designer
pee stains and has a quart bottle of Rheingold the dry beer
in each hand. He sits down, looking at the TV.

		MILT (drunk)
	Give him the airplane! Wring his neck!


EXT.  THE GREENHOUSE  NIGHT

More noises. There is a beat of silence, and then something-
one of those earthen plant pots, I think- falls over and
SHATTERS.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MILT

He looks up briefly- he's heard something- but the crowd on
the TV is loud and the match is reaching its climax.

		MILT (all eyes again)
	Give him the sleeper, you fuckin bugwit!


EXT.  THE GREENHOUSE, CLOSER

A LOW SNARL. Plants shake and shiver. Another crash, LOUDER.


INT.  MILT, IN THE LIVING ROOM

Looks toward the window. He gets up, goes over, and looks
out.


EXT.  THE GREENHOUSE, MEDIUM-LONG (MILT'S POV)

SOUND of another crash. Plants move.


INT.  THE HALL, WITH MILT

He takes a shotgun from the wall, breaks it, and looks
inside.

		MILT
	Let's see if you want to come back and
	break my pots all to shit after I put
	some rock salt in your asses!


INT.  THE STURMFULLER GREENHOUSE  NIGHT

The door at the end SCREECHES OPEN and MILT, still holding
the shotgun at port arms, comes cautiously in. This place is
really overgrown.

MILT advances slowly into the jungle of plants, and the
director will shoot it as he likes to build the suspense.
I'm sure that plants brush his face, and a bug or two- maybe
even a big plump spider- will land on him.

He hears a SCUTTERING SOUND and whirls.

		MILT (shouts)
	Who's there?


INT.  GREENHOUSE FLOOR, MILT'S POV  NIGHT

A mouse goes running across the warped boards (which have
pulled apart from each other, showing deep cracks between).


INT.  MILT  NIGHT

He relaxes and starts forward again. We keep expecting it to
happen, but it keeps not happening.

Then, as MILT is starting back toward the door, two big,
hairy arms come up through the floor- bursting through two
of those cracks and shoving the splintered boards upward-
and grab MILT'S legs at the knees.

SOUNDS: BESTIAL ROARS.

MILT screams and triggers off the shotgun- unfortunately, it
is pointing straight up. Glass showers down on him. He is
pulled down into the shattered hole- now we can see him only
from the knees up.


INT.  TAMMY STURMFULLER'S BEDROOM

She sits up in bed.

SOUNDS of ROARS and MILT SCREAMING from the greenhouse.

MRS. STURMFULLER, in a nightgown with her hair done up in
rollers, comes into Tammy's room.

		MRS. STURMFULLER
	Tammy, where's your father?

SOUND: Another SCREAM from the greenhouse.


INT.  THE GREENHOUSE, WITH MILT

He's now waist deep in the hole in the floor, surrounded by
broken, splintered boards.

SOUNDS: RIPPING FLESH, CRUNCHING BONES. MILT SHRIEKS.

He is abruptly jerked downward again. He is being eaten from
the feet up. As he's jerked down, one of the leaning,
splintered boards rams into his chest. MILT collapses over
it like an old Roman collapsing on his sword.

A hairy arm reaches up and grabs his neck. MILT is jerked
all the way into the hole, board and all.


EXT.  THE GREENHOUSE, FROM TAMMY'S BEDROOM WINDOW

SOUNDS of SNARLS, GROWLS, GRUNTS.


INT.  TAMMY AND MRS. STURMFULLER

They are hugging each other, terrified, by the window.


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER PLACE, MEDIUM-LONG  DAY

The police cars are now here. There's also a meat wagon. As
we watch, a number of cops- JOE HALLER and PETE SYLVESTER
are among them- approach the wagon. Many are carrying canvas
bags.


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER YARD, FEATURING PETE SYLVESTER

He drops the blood stained bag he's carrying, runs to the
bushes, and noisily blows his groceries.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS MONTAGE #3  DUSK

a.) On Oak Street, MRS. THAYER is hurrying toward home,
obviously spooked. She keeps looking behind herself and
nearly flies up the steps to her house. Then there is the
endless business of fumbling with her keys. Finally she
lurches inside and slams the door.
b.) On Main Street, at the Holy Family rectory, FATHER
O'BANION is closing the shutters...and locking them.
c.) On a residential street, a kid is playing with some
plastic trucks outside of a picket fence. Except for him,
the street is deserted. His mother comes out and hauls him
in.
d.) ANDY FAIRTON, in the sporting-goods store, checks an
automatic pistol and then holsters it on his hip. He has a
pugnacious, unpleasant look.
e.) BILLY McCLAREN turns the sign on the door of his barber
shop from OPEN to CLOSED, looks out warily at the street (to
make sure there are no psycho killers out there for trims, I
guess), then leaves and locks the door behind him. THE
CAMERA FOLLOWS him down a couple of store fronts to Owen's,
where he also goes in.
f.) The paper rack in front of Peltzer's Drug/ The
"Press-Herald" headline is a sixteen-pointer: MANIAC CLAIMS
SECOND VICTIM.


EXT.  MARTY AND BRADY KINCAID  MAGIC HOUR

They're flying kites on the common. Some distance in the
b.g. is the bandstand. MARTY is of course flying his kite as
he sits in the Silver Bullet. The boys are having a blast.

THE CAMERA SLOWLY MOVES AWAY from the boys, centers on
Owen's Pub across the street, and ZOOMS IN.

In the window is a poster. It reads: $10,000 REWARD FOR
INFORMATION LEADING TO THE CAPTURE OF THE MAN (OR ANIMAL)
WHO KILLED STELLA RANDOLPH AND MILTON STURMFULLER. And, at
the bottom: TARKER'S MILLS CITIZENS' COMMITTEE.

Along comes ANDY FAIRTON. He goes into the pub.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB

At a f.g. table: VIRGIL CUTTS, BOBBY ROBERTSON, ELMER
ZINNEMAN, and his brother PORTER ZINNEMAN. Behind them, at
the bar, we see PETE SYLVESTER having a beer with BILLY
McCLAREN. As we look around the bar, we will also see FATHER
LESTER LOWE, sitting at an unobtrusive corner table, nursing
a beer and listening closely to the conversation.

		ELMER (to VIRGIL)
	Don't tell me an animal can't rip a man
	up the way Milt Sturmfuller was ripped up!

		VIRGIL
	But the woman's bed was ripped right down
	the middle, Elmer- it's take a chainsaw to
	do something like that!

		PORTER
	Damn straight!

		ELMER
	Shut up, Porter. (To VIRGIL) What about the
	tracks?

ANDY FAIRTON has joined the group. He sits down uninvited.

		VIRGIL
	That could be something to throw off the
	cops. And it ain't animals that try to
	confues the law; it's people do that.

		ANDY FAIRTON
	Law around here don't need much confusing.

PETE looks around at this. Being the deputy constable and
ineffectual by nature, he's pretty sensitive.

		ANDY (deep disgust)
	Joe Haller couldn't find his own ass if
	someone rammed it full of radium and gave
	him a Geiger counter.

		PETE SYLVESTER (comes over)
	Could be I know a fella who's still PO'd
	over getting fined two hundred bucks for
	that little fender bender out on the Ridge
	Road last year.

		ANDY
	Could be I know a fat old fella who ought to
	take care of his mouth before someone comes
	along and turns it inside out. I pay Joe
	Haller's salary to keep the people in this
	town safe, and he ain't doing it.


INT.  BILLY McCLAREN, AT THE BAR

He's looking toward the table where the Fairton group sits.

		BILLY (mildly)
	Last town report said you was in arrears
	your taxes, Andy. Guess you must have paid
	up, huh?


INT.  THE FAIRTON TABLE

		ANDY
	What are you, trying to be smart?

OWEN KNOPFLER comes over.

		OWEN
	You guys turn down the thermostat or I'm
	gonna turn you all out. Now who's drinking?

		ANDY (sulks)
	Bring me a Schlitz.


EXT.  A TREE, WITH BRADY'S SMILE-KITE STUCK IN IT  DUSK

SOUND of panting.

MARTY comes into the frame, pulling himself up by the arms.
His arms are very strong, although his legs trail limply
behind him (like the tail of a kite). He sits on a branch,
untangles the kite and the string, and looks down.

		MARTY (calls)
	Here it comes!


EXT.  THE FOOT OF THE TREE, WITH BRADY

		BRADY
	Drop it!

As the kite flutters down, JANE comes biking up.

		JANE
	Marty Coslaw, you get down out of
	that tree!


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE TREE

He descends, then hangs from the lowest branch.

		MARTY
	Push the Bullet over, Jane, okay?


EXT.  MARTY AND JANE

		JANE (makes no immediate move to do so)
	Supper was an hour ago, Dumbo.

		MARTY (hanging)
	Oh, Jeez! I forgot! Is she mad?

		JANE
	They both are. At me, for not getting you
	sooner. I ought to let you fall.

But she pushes the chair over and MARTY drops into it. He
pushes the starter and the Silver Bullet fires up.


EXT.  BRADY, FLYING HIS KITE ON THE COMMON  DUSK

		MARTY (voice)
	Hey, Brady! You coming?

		BRADY (looking into the sky)
	In a while!

BRADY could give a shit if MARTY'S in trouble. He just waves
vaguely. He's into the kite-flying experience, as the folks
in Marin County might say.


EXT.  MARTY AND JANE

He's looking toward the common, frowning and uncertain.

		JANE
	Come on, Marty.

She starts biking away. MARTY starts after her, pauses, and
looks at:


EXT.  BRADY, ON THE COMMON  DUSK

CAMERA PANS SLOWLY UP to the yellow smile-kite in the
bluish-purple sky.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB  LATE DUSK

The former patrons are still here, with the exceptions of
LOWE, BILLY McCLAREN, and BOBBY ROBERTSON. Many others have
appeared; this is Happy Hour. Among them we see MR.
ASPINALL, the principal, and PELTZER, the druggist. A
barmaid, NORMA, circulates with drinks and beers.

Speaking of beer, ANDY FAIRTON has gotten through a fair
amount of Schlitz. It hasn't mellowed him, however; he's
more belligerent than ever.

		ANDY (holding forth)
	This whole investigation has been as
	efficient as a Polish fire drill! It-

		PETE (bravely)
	I've heard enough out of you, Andy. If
	you don't shut your mouth, I'm going to
	shut it for you.


INT.  THE DOOR OF OWEN'S PLACE

It opens and a man in a business suit- HERB KINCAID- comes
in. He is carrying a briefcase and he looks worried.


INT.  THE GROUP AT THE FAIRTON TABLE

		ANDY (astounded)
	What did you say?


INT.  THE BAR, WITH OWEN KNOPFLER

		OWEN
	Jesus wept.

He reaches under the bar and comes out with a baseball bat.
Burned into the side of the bat, so it reads vertically
toward the handle, is the word "peacemaker." OWEN hurries
around the bar with it.


INT.  THE FAIRTON GROUP

PETE is standing in front of ANDY, fists balled up, fat face
trembling with determination.

		PETE
	You heard what I said, motormouth.

ANDY gets up, infuriated. There's apparently going to be a
brawl. Behind them, HERB KINCAID has approached the table.
HERB hasn't even noticed what's going on; he's got problems
of his own.


INT.  HERB KINCAID

He clears his throat. This is a mild, timid man- he doesn't
like to speak in public, particularly not in a bar, but the
imperatives of the situation demand it right now.

		HERB (quite loudly)
	Has anyone in here seen my son Brady?


INT.  THE PUB, A NEW ANGLE

Everyone looks at HERB. Conversation stops. ANDY and PETE
freeze with their fists balled up, like little kids playing
statues tag. OWEN is caught a little distance from ANDY and
PETE, with the "peacemaker" still in his hands.


EXT.  THE TOWN COMMON, LONG

Now it is almost completely dark, and a large reddish summer
moon is rising over the horizon.

SOUND: A LONG, WAVERING WOLF HOWL... LOUD.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB

All conversation has stopped. All have turned toward the
door and the windows; all hear the HOWL. Deep fright
overlies each face.

NORMA drops her tray. Glasses and bottles shatter.


INT.  THE MAIN CORRIDOR OF THE TOWN HALL

JOE HALLER comes out of the constable's office in a hurry,
letting the door bang the wall. He's buckling on his gun
belt.


EXT.  THE BANDSTAND

BRADY'S kite, torn in a couple of places, flutters on the
steps leading up to the bandstand. The yellow smile face
grins eerily in the darkness. It is streaked with blood.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB

		HERB
	Brady!

He breaks for the door. ANDY FAIRTON grabs him.

		HERB
	Get out of my way!

He pushes ANDY aside. HERB is out the door, chased by PETE
and several of the others.


EXT.  THE BANDSTAND  NIGHT

		JOE HALLER (low voice)
	Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with
	thee. Blessed art thou among women...

He comes out of the shadows, his drawn gun dangling by his
side. This man has had an extremely bad shock. The legs of
his uniform pants are splashed with blood. He makes it down
two steps and then sits heavily by the remains of BRADY'S
smiling, bloody kite. He looks straight ahead. He looks at
nothing.

		HALLER (low)
	...and blessed is the fruit of Thy womb.
	Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for
	us sinners now...now...

He looks at the kite, then looks away. He puts a hand over
his face and starts to cry.


EXT.  THE COMMON, LOOKING BACK TOWARD MAIN STREET  NIGHT

A number of men - not all that were in Owen's but quite a
few of them - are running toward the bandstand. HERB KINCAID
is in the lead, screaming his son's name over and over.

SOUND: A LONG HOWL, now at some distance.


EXT.  THE BANDSTAND, WITH HALLER AND KINCAID

As HERB KINCAID approaches.

		HALLER
	Stay off the bandstand, Herb.

		HERB
	Is it my boy? Is it Brady?

		HALLER
	Don't go up-

		HERB (lunges past him)
	Brady! Brady!

Disappears into the dark. HALLER looks down at his lap.

		HERB
	Br-(CUTS OFF)

The other men arrive, PETE in the lead. HALLER doesn't look
up.

		PETE
	Joe, is it-

		HALLER (not looking up)
	Shhh.

		PETE
	Is it the Kicaid b-

		HALLER (not looking up)
	Shhh, I said.

The men look uneasily at HALLER, at each other. ANDY FAIRTON
shoves forward.

		ANDY
	What the fuck is going on h-

SOUND: HERB SCREAMS. A pause. HERB screams again. The men
flinch back. HALLER doesn't look up. Now, from the darkness
on the bandstand, HERB begins to LAUGH. The men shrink back
further, looking more uneasy than ever.

		HERB (voice; laughing)
	We'll bury his shoes.

Now HALLER gets up and joins the other men.

		HERB (voice; laughing)
	That's what we'll have to do; we'll bury
	his shoes. Maybe in a couple of Roi-Tan
	cigar boxes.


EXT.  THE BANDSTAND, MEN'S POV  NIGHT

HERB KINCAID appears. He is laughing. He is smeared with his
son's blood. In each hand he holds one of his son's shoes.

		HERB
	We'll bury his shoes because his feet are
	still in them and they're the only part of
	him that makes sense anymore.

HERB laughs harder.

		HERB
	It's gonna be the cheapest funeral this
	town ever saw!

HERB SCREAMS LAUGHTER. THE CAMERA DOLLIES IN TO CLOSE ON
BRADY'S KITE.


EXT.  THE MOON, CU

SOUND: HERB SCREAMING.


				DISSOLVE TO:


EXT.  HOLY FAMILY CHURCH  DAY

SOUND: An organ is playing that sweet old hymn, "Bringing In
The Sheaves."

There are lots of cars parked in front of the church, but
there's a space left just big enough for UNCLE AL'S MG.
MARTY'S Silver Bullet is strapped to the back.

		JANE (v-o)
	My mother and father- my mother in
	particular- did not much care for Uncle
	Al...


INT.  HOLY FAMILY CHURCH  DAY

MARTY'S chair is at the back of the church. Most of the
mourners are crying. MRS. BOWIE is playing the organ.
BRADY'S coffin is on a bier at the front - closed of course.
There are lots of flowers.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	...but when it came to such unpleasant
	duties as taking Marty to the funeral
	of his best friend...


INT.  UNCLE AL, MARTY, TAMMY, AND MRS. STURMFULLER IN A PEW

As we look at them, from left to right: UNCLE AL, MARTY,
TAMMY, MRS. STURMFULLER.

UNCLE AL unobtrusively takes a small silver flask from his
hip pocket. Engraved on it in Old English letters is the
word "rotgut." He spins the cap and takes a quick knock. He
pauses and glances at MARTY, who looks deeply stunned.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	...they didn't at all mind drafting him.
	As to the sort of comfort Uncle Al may
	have been able to offer him...

UNCLE AL hands the flask to MARTY. MARTY looks at him
questioningly for a moment, and then drinks. MARTY looks at
TAMMY, who looks frankly terrible. Her mother is looking
away. MARTY nudges her. She looks around at him. He offers
her the flask. Her eyes widen.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	...I now believe that was best kept between
	the two of them...

After a brief moment's consideration, TAMMY takes the flask
and has a deep swallow. She hands the flask back to MARTY,
who hands it quickly back to UNCLE AL as TAMMY coughs. Her
mother looks at her... then at MARTY and UNCLE AL. UNCLE AL
smiles sympathetically, hiding the flask with one hand, as
if to say, "Isn't it a terrible thing?" MRS. STURMFULLER
looks distractedly back toward the service.

		JANE (v-o concludes)
	...or among the three of them.

UNCLE AL pockets the flask just as the organ stops playing.


INT.  THE PODIUM, WITH FATHER LOWE

		LOWE
	Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid have asked that there
	be no mass said here this afternoon. There
	will be a requiem mass for Brady Kincaid
	this Sunday. They did ask me to say a word
	of comfort to you, if I could.

He looks out at them.


INT.  THE CONGREGATION

They look back at LOWE, hoping for some help in
understanding this awful thing.


INT.  LOWE, ABOVE THE COFFIN

		LOWE
	If there is any word of comfort I can give
	you, it's just this: the face of the beast
	always becomes known; the time of the beast
	always passes.

He is struggling with this, trying dreadfully hard.

		LOWE
	If there are times when we feel alone and
	afraid, only small creatures in the dark,
	then these are the times when we must turn
	to one another for our comfort and our hope.
	To our neighbors. To our community. To our
	love for each other. I alone cannot ease
	the pain for Herb and Naomi Kincaid, nor can
	I ease your pain, nor you ease mine. But if
	I believe anything it's this: we can comfort
	each other. We can heal each other. We can
	go on together.


INT.  THE CONGREGATION, WITH MARTY AND TAMMY

The kids are crying. MARTY puts an arm around TAMMY and she
puts her head on his shoulder.


INT.  FATHER LOWE

		LOWE
	The Bible tells us not to fear the terror
	that creepeth by night or that which flieth
	by noonday, and yet we do... we do. Because
	there is much we don't know, and we feel
	very small. But we must not be alone. We must
	not allow ourselves to be alone, for there is
	the wide gate to the hell of terror. Turn to
	each other. Join hands in your sorrow and try
	to remember that the face of the beast always
	becomes known. (Pause) The time of the beast
	always passes. (Pause) Let us pray.


EXT.  THE MOURNERS, WITH MARTY

MARTY and TAMMY look at each other miserably. TAMMY begins
to cry- for her father as much as for BRADY, one would
think- and she and MARTY embrace.


EXT.  UNCLE AL, CU

He looks at the kids with deep sympathy and deep love.


EXT.  A COUNTRY ROAD  AFTERNOON

UNCLE AL'S sports car passes THE CAMERA. He's taking MARTY
home.


INT.  THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL

		UNCLE AL
	You all right, Marty?

		MARTY
	Yeah.

		UNCLE AL
	There's a saying- so-and-so was better than
	a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. You
	ever hear that one?

		MARTY
	No.

		UNCLE AL
	Well, I'm not sure that was. Christ! They
	better get the guy.

		MARTY
	Uncle Al, what if it's not a guy?

		UNCLE AL
	Huh?

		MARTY
	What if it's some kind of monster?

		UNCLE AL (laughs)
	Jesus, Marty! Come off it!


EXT.  UNCLE AL'S CAR, ON MAIN STREET

It cruises past Owen's Pub. There are cars parked out front,
but there are also lots of pickup trucks.


INT.  THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL

		MARTY
	What's going on at Owen's, Uncle Al?

		UNCLE AL
	A bunch of men getting ready to pretend
	they're Clint Eastwood... Marty, didn't
	anybody ever tell you that the only monsters
	are in comic books and drive-in movies?


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE  LATE AFTERNOON

UNCLE AL'S car turns in and parks.


INT.  THE CAR, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL

		MARTY
	Tammy said she'd been hearing noises in
	that greenhouse. Growling noises, like a
	big animal. Her father was killed that night.

UNCLE AL looks at him doubtfully for a moment, as if almost
believing. Then he shakes his head.

		UNCLE AL
	Marty, you have to get this idea out of
	your head. Psychotics are more active
	when the moon is full, and this guy is a
	psycho. He's going to turn out to be as
	human as you or me. (Pause) In a manner of
	speaking. Now let's get you inside.

He opens his door and gets out.


INT.  MARTY, CLOSER

He would like to believe UNCLE AL... but he doesn't.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB  LATE AFTERNOON

		ANDY FAIRTON
	Okay, you all know what group you're in and
	what area you'll be covering, right?

		PORTER ZINNEMAN
	Damn straight!

		ELMER ZINNEMAN
	Shut up, Porter.

The men are all dressed in hunting clothes-
red-and-black-checked shirts, orange caps, etc. They all
have guns. Among their number are a few women as well,
looking tough and determined. We see almost everyone we've
met up to this point. LOWE is there, looking deeply
troubled.

ANDY FAIRTON is standing on the bar. These are his
vigilantes; he has organized them. ANDY radiates male macho
football-coach confidence. He's mesmerized the crowd: they
really believe they are going to go out and Shoot One for
the Gipper.

		ANDY
	Groups one through four are in the woods
	north of the Sturmfuller place. Five and
	six west of Carson Creek.

The door at the back opens; HALLER and PETE come in. JOE
HALLER is in extremely bad shape. He hasn't come back much
from the murder of BRADY. I believe he is having some sort
of spiritual crisis, and while it is not our purpose to
explore what it might be- this is, after all, a horror movie
and not a John Cassavetes film- we can see that it has
seriously weakened his authority.

		ANDY (continuing)
	Moonrise at 8:52 p.m.

Some nervous laughter greets this. Meanwhile, HALLER and
PETE are working their way to the front, where they end up
next to a grim-faced HERB KINCAID.

		ANDY (continuing)
	If he comes out to stroll in the moonlight
	tonight, we're going to get the sorry sucker.


INT.  THE VIGILANTES, WITH ELMER AND PORTER

		PORTER (happily)
	Damn straight!

		ELMER
	Shut up, Porter.


INT.  ANDY FAIRTON

		ANDY
	Just remember, it's the psycho we want, not
	each other. So look before you-


INT.  THE CROWD, FEATURING HALLER

		HALLER
	I want all of you folks to go home!

A disgruntled murmur meets this. HALLER moves forward a bit,
and turns to face them.

		HALLER
	I can't remember deputizing a single one
	of you!


INT.  ANDY FAIRTON

		ANDY
	That's right, Joe- the only deputy you got is
	that fat shitbag beside you, and neither one
	of you has done a damn thing about solving
	this case.

There is a mutter of agreement.


INT.  A SLIGHTLY WIDER SHOT, FEATURING ANDY AND HALLER

ANDY hops off the bar to face HALLER directly. In the b.g.
we see HERB KINCAID (KINCAID, by the way, should be wearing
a black armband- he's come directly from his son's funeral).

		HALLER (without much force)
	We'll catch him.

		ANDY
	You couldn't catch a cold.

HALLER looks at him for a moment, then turns to look at the
crowd. They look rather like a lynch mob; on their faces we
see an uneasy mix of shame and eager determination. HALLER
speaks with a kind of haggard, fading desperation.

		HALLER
	The law has a name for what you men are
	planning. It's private justice, and private
	justice is about a step and a half away
	from lynch mobs and hang ropes. I'm no
	J. Edgar Hoover, but I am the law in Tarker's
	Mills, and I want you men to go home.

They shuffle their feet uneasily; many look down. He is
getting to them.

		ANDY
	Don't let this guy scare you! What's he done
	since this thing started but hang his face out?

It's not working. Many of the men look disgusted with both
ANDY and themselves.

		ANDY (louder)
	He ain't got so much as a fingerprint!

		OWEN KNOPFLER
	Ah, shut up, Andy.

		ANDY
	Don't tell me to-

HERB KINCAID steps forward.

		HERB
	Yes. Correct. Shut up.

ANDY, surprised and bewildered, does. HERB turns and looks
grimly at JOE HALLER, who can barely meet his gaze.

		HERB (quietly)
	I just came from my boy's funeral.

		HALLER
	Herb...I know how upset- how grief-stricken
	you must be...but-

		HERB (quietly)
	He was torn apart.

Utter silence in OWEN'S place now. The others are staring,
rapt.

		HALLER
	Yes. Yes, but-

		HERB (still quiet)
	Upset, you say. Grief-stricken, you say.
	Constable, you don't know what those words
	mean. My son was torn to pieces. To pieces!

HERB turns to the others in the pub. Tears stream down his
face.

		HERB
	My son was torn to pieces!
		(turning back to HALLER)
	You come in here and talk to these men
	about private justice. You dare to do that.
	Constable Haller, why don't you go out to
	Harmony Hill and dig up what's left of Brady
	and explain to him about private justice.
	Would you want to do that?

HALLER makes no reply. He looks down at his feet.

		HERB
	No. I thought not.
		(to the others)
	You folks stay here if you want. I wouldn't
	ask anyone to do anything that runs counter
	to his conscience. As for me... I'm going out
	and hunt up a little private justice.

ANDY FAIRTON has swelled up again. He grins poisonously at
the slumped HALLER. He pushes off after HERB KINCAID. Other
men start to follow.


EXT.  OWEN'S PUB

Men are streaming out, getting into station wagons and
pickup trucks. Engines roar into life. They begin backing
out even as more men come out of the pub. We even hear some
high-spirited yells; they are on their way and their blood
is up.


INT.  OWEN'S PUB

LESTER LOWE, looking more distressed than ever, pushes his
way through the men toward the door, and THE CAMERA FOLLOWS.
He grabs BILLY McCLAREN.

		LOWE
	Billy... Billy, this is a bad idea. Joe can...

		BILLY (not looking at LOWE)
	Joe's had his chance, Father. Leave me be.

He pushes outside. LOWE looks around wildly; his face says
he can't believe this is happening. He grabs PORTER
ZINNEMAN, then, as PORTER shoves by him, at a couple of
others with mounting desperation.

HALLER makes his way to LOWE through the thinning crowd and
draws him aside.

		HALLER
	Let them go.

		LOWE
	But-

		HALLER
	This is that spirit of community you were
	talking about. Grand, ain't it? Maybe they'll
	shoot a hitchhiker or something and Andy can
	mount the head and raffle it off. To benefit
	the Medcu van, of course.

HALLER laughs.

		LOWE
	But can't we do anything?

OWEN KNOPFLER hurries past them; he has a rifle over one
shoulder in a sling. In his left hand he carries the
peacemaker bat.

		HALLER
	Sure. We can pray to Christ that none of them
	get killed.


EXT.  OUTSIDE OWEN'S

More cars and trucks pull away. There's a big old Ford
"woody" wagon still there, with ANDY FAIRTON standing
impatiently by the driver's side door. BILLY McCLAREN and
BOBBY ROBERTSON are with him, and a big, solid-looking woman
named MAGGIE ANDREWS.

OWEN comes out and crosses to the woody.

		ANDY
	Well, it's about frigging time! They'll
	have his hide tacked to somebody's barn
	door before we get out there!

They pile into the car, ANDY behind the wheel. He throws it
into gear and backs out onto Main Street.


EXT.  MAIN STREET, A NEW ANGLE

We see a parade of cars and pickup trucks headed out of
town.


EXT.  FATHER LESTER LOWE

He's standing on the curb and watching them leave town in
procession, some honking their horns, others yelling
cheerfully. The expression on his face is dark and brooding.


EXT.  THE FULL MOON, CU  NIGHT


EXT.  ELMER AND PORTER ZINNEMAN  NIGHT

ELMER is lying on his belly, stuck halfway under a
barbed-wire fence. The seat of his pants is badly snagged.
The brothers are on the verge of a wooded area. We can see
ground mist creeping around the bottoms of the trees.

		ELMER
	Help me Porter, goddammit!

PORTER grabs ELMER'S right arm and pulls. There's a RIPPING
SOUND. ELMER screams.

		ELMER
	Don't pull me! You want to rip the right
	cheek of my ass right off?

		PORTER
	Well, Elmer, there are folks that'd say
	you've been half-assed most of your-

		ELMER
	Are you going to unhook me or be a wise guy?

PORTER begins to pick the barbed wire out of ELMER'S pants.


EXT.  IN THE WOODS, WITH REV. O'BANION AND VIRGIL CUTTS
NIGHT

O'BANION looks rather amusing in his hunting gear- like that
priest from "The Exorcist" on safari.

SOUND: A HOWL, FAIRLY LOUD

		VIRGIL
	Jesus, that was close. Uh, pardon me, Rev'runt.

		O'BANION
	Come on. Be careful.

They move slowly ahead, O'BANION still a bit in the lead.
THE CAMERA FOLLOWS as the reverend pushes into some
knee-high brush.

SOUND: A RUSTY METALLIC CLANG, followed by a FLESHY CHOMP.

O'BANION begins to scream and struggle.

		VIRGIL
	Rev'runt! What is it?

		O'BANION (screaming)
	My foot! My foot!

VIRGIL lunges to him and looks down.


EXT.  O'BANION'S FOOT, VIRGIL'S POV

A medium-sized trap- something in which one might reasonably
catch a wild cat or a coydog, let us say- has its rusty
teeth sunk deeply into the reverend's ankle.


EXT.  O'BANION AND VIRGIL

		O'BANION (SCREAMING)
	Get it off me! Get it off me!

		VIRGIL (flustered)
	Sure...okay...

He kneels down.


EXT.  VIRGIL

He muscles the trap open, a little at a time.


EXT.  O'BANION

Relaxing.

SOUND: THE WOLF HOWLING CLOSE.


EXT.  VIRGIL

Startled and unnerved by the HOWL, the trap slips out of his
hands and snaps shut on O'BANION'S mangled ankle again.


EXT.  REVEREND O'BANION

He screams.


EXT.  THE MOON, CU

It slides behind a cloud.

SOUND: THE WOLF HOWLING.


EXT.  ANDY FAIRTON'S GROUP

ANDY, BILLY McCLAREN, BOBBY ROBERTSON, OWEN KNOPFLER, and
MAGGIE ANDREWS have been joined by two other men- MR.
ASPINALL and EDGAR ROUNDS.

They have drawn close together, listening as the HOWL FADES.
We can tell by their uneasy faces that some of the joy has
gone out of the evening.

They are standing on one side of a ravine. The bottom is
filled with a still ground mist. A few bushes poke out of
it. There are woods on the far side.

		ANDY (pointing across)
	It came from over there.

		BOBBY ROBERTSON
	As far as I could tell, it could have come
	from anywhere.

		ANDY
	We'll spread out in a skirmish line. If the
	bastard tries to go around us, we'll hear him.

		BOBBY
	I dunno-

		MAGGIE
	I think Bobby Robertson here's making lemonade
	in his pants. That lemonade got ice cubes in
	it, Bobby?

ANDY FAIRTON and EDGAR ROUNDS laugh. ASPINALL and BILLY
McCLAREN smile a little.

		OWEN (quietly)
	Let off him, Maggie. I'm scared, too.

		BOBBY (stoutly)
	I ain't scared! Let's go!

		ANDY
	Okay. Spread out on me. Five feet apart.


EXT.  ANDY'S GROUP, FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE RAVINE

Reading from right to left: OWEN KNOPFLER (his gun is still
over his shoulder; it is the peacemaker baseball bat he is
holding), BOBBY ROBERTSON, ASPINALL, ANDY FAIRTON, BILLY
McCLAREN, EDGAR ROUNDS and MAGGIE ANDREWS.

They come slowly down toward THE CAMERA, alert and ready for
anything- at least, they think so.


EXT.  ANDY'S GROUP, ANGLE SHOT

They reach the bottom of the ravine and begin to make their
way across it. The mist is waist to chest deep. They push
toward the other side. Now they are about halfway.

SOUND: A STEADY, LOW GROWLING, CLOSE.

They all stop, scared.

		BILLY McCLAREN
	Where's it coming from? Other side?

		BOBBY
	No- it's behind us. I told you you couldn't
	trust-

		ASPINALL
	It isn't on either side.

		ANDY
	What are you-

ASPINALL is looking around, his eyes widening with fear.

		ASPINALL
	It's under the fog. It's right in with us.

The GROWLING STOPS. There's a beat of silence. Then:

SOUND: SNARLING...AND A RIPPING CHOMP as dinner is served.

SOUND: A SCREAM.


EXT.  EDGAR ROUNDS, CLOSE

He's the one screaming, and if he reminds us of O'BANION,
that's okay, because ROUNDS has also been caught in a trap.
He tries to run, stumbles, falls into the ground fog. He
goes on screaming. We can see his back for a moment, and
then it disappears.

SOUNDS OF CRUNCHING AND SCREAMING.

ROUNDS SHRIEKS. His hand and arm come up like the hand of a
drowning man. Then it's gone. ROUNDS is gone.


EXT.  THE SKIRMISH LINE

They stand there, chest deep in mist, a conspicuous hole in
the ranks where EDGAR was.


EXT.  BOBBY ROBERTSON, CU

		BOBBY (moaning)
	I can't move. Christ Jesus, I can't move!


EXT.  THE SKIRMISH LINE IN THE RAVINE, A NEW ANGLE

The GROWLING STARTS AGAIN. THE CAMERA PANS SLOWLY UP THE
LINE. The mist swirls, hiding whatever's beneath.


EXT.  ASPINALL, CU

		ASPINALL (low)
	I think we better start backing up, Andy.
	Real slow. Real-

The LOW GROWL rises to a snarl. And from below the mist,
snarling and bestial but understandable, mocking ASPINALL'S
voice:

		WEREWOLF (voice)
	"Real slow! Real slow! Real slow!"

SOUND: CHOMP!

ASPINALL SHRIEKS and tries to run. He falls into the mist.
There is another CHOMP. When he flounders up, half his face
is gone.

		WEREWOLF (voice)
	"Real slow! Real slow!"

A hairy arm rises from the mist and yanks ASPINALL down.


EXT.  ANDY'S GROUP

They panic and break for it- MAGGIE, BILLY, and ANDY for one
side, BOBBY and OWEN for the other.


EXT.  OWEN, WEREWOLF'S POV

THE CAMERA IS RUSHING THROUGH THE GROUND MIST- this is like
being in an airplane that's skimming the top of a cloud.

		WEREWOLF (voice; laughing)
	"Real slow! Real slow! Real slow!"


EXT.  OWEN KNOPFLER

He's hit, as an unlucky swimmer might be hit by a shark. He
whirls around, raising the peacemaker bat.

		OWEN
	Come on, then! You want to rock and roll
	with me?


EXT.  THE GROUND MIST, OWEN'S POV

For a moment there's nothing- and then the werewolf rises
out of it, eyes glaring green, muzzle and pelt slimed with
gore.

		WEREWOLF
	"REEEEEL SLOW!"


EXT.  MAGGIE AND ANDY

		MAGGIE (shrieking)
	Look at it! Holy God, Andy, look at that thing!

		ANDY (groaning with fear)
	I don't want to look at it.

He runs, while MAGGIE stares, mesmerized, at:


EXT.  OWEN AND THE WEREWOLF

The WEREWOLF closes in on OWEN, who belts it a good one with
the peacemaker. The WEREWOLF swipes at him. OWEN ducks and
slams it again. The WEREWOLF roars with anger.

		OWEN
	Come on, come on! You want to do the bop?
	I'll bop you, motherfucker! Come on!

The WEREWOLF dives under the ground mist.

Uncertain, OWEN begins to back up, holding the bat in his
hands. OWEN is jerked down into the mist. He SCREAMS. The
peacemaker rises out of the ground mist and comes down.
Bonk! The WEREWOLF roars in pain. CHOMPING SOUND. OWEN
shrieks.

		OWEN (voice)
	Come on, you bastard!

The peacemaker rises out of the mist again. The hands
holding it are bloody. Blood runs down the bat. It descends.
Bonk! The WEREWOLF roars again. There is a GURGLING SCREAM
from OWEN... and then a curious SPLINTERING SOUND as the
WEREWOLF sinks its fangs into the bat.


EXT.  THE RAVINE

THE CAMERA MOVES ABOVE as the WEREWOLF moves below, escaping
down the draw.

Pause. SOUND, IN THE B.G.- low but slowly getting louder: a
congregation singing "Bringing In the Sheaves" to the
accompaniment of a pipe organ.

		WEREWOLF (sing-songy voice)
	Bringing in the sheaves... bringing in the
	sheaves... we shall come rejoicing... bringing
	in the sheaves...

THE WEREWOLF FADES OUT; human voices singing the same hymn
overwhelm it and we

				DISSOLVE TO:


INT.  HOLY FAMILY CATHOLIC CHURCH, PULPIT POV  MORNING

It's an almost exact reprise of #167. Most of the mourners
are crying; MRS. BOWIE playing the organ; MARTY'S chair
parked at the back. We can see UNCLE AL, MARTY, TAMMY, and
MRS. STURMFULLER, exactly as they were at BRADY KINCAID'S
funeral; in fact, this seems to be an instant reply of that
event. One difference: we can't see BRADY'S coffin. It's
below us. The hymn ends.


INT.  FATHER LOWE, IN THE PULPIT

		LOWE
	Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid have asked that there
	be no mass said here this afternoon. They
	did ask me to say a word of comfort to you
	if I could.


INT.  THE CONGREGATION, FEATURING HERB KINCAID

He sits in the first pew. In his grief he looks dead.

		HERB
	There is no comfort, Father. Only private
	justice.


INT.  LOWE, AT THE PULPIT

He's thrown off his stride. Beginning to sweat. He's like an
actor trying to remember his lines.

		LOWE
	Uh, if there's any word of comfort I can
	give you, it's just this: the face of the
	beast always becomes known; the time-

He looks down. His eyes widen in fear.


INT.  THE COFFINS, LOWE'S POV

Yes, that's coffins- plural. Where BRADY'S coffin was
formerly, there are now six coffins, smothered with flowers.


INT.  LOWE, IN THE PULPIT

He is badly scared now; sweat is dripping off him.

		LOWE
	The time... the time of the beast always
	passes. There are answers... ways... ways
	to... to cope... if we turn to each other...

		HERB (bestial voice)
	Father-

LOWE looks toward:


INT.  FIRST ROW PEW, WITH HERB KINCAID, LOWE'S POV

He's looking down at something in his hands. Now he looks up
and we see his face has become bestial. His eyes are green.
As we look at him, the transformation cotinues. He's turning
into a werewolf.

		HERB (snarling)
	It tore out his heart.

And sure enough, HERB KINCAID holds BRADY'S dripping heart
up in what were hands but which are now rapidly becoming
paws.


INT.  LESTER LOWE, AT THE PULPIT

He staggers back, in terror.

		LOWE (shrieks)
	No!


INT.  THE CONGREGATION, LOWE'S POV

MRS. BOWIE begins bringing in a few more sheaves on the
church organ, and the congregation begins to sing.

		CONGREGATION
	Sowing in the morning/sowing seeds of
	kindness/sowing in the noontide/and the
	dewy eve...

We pan their faces, stopping on JOE HALLER. Now something is
happening to JOE'S face. It is bulging, changing. He looks
up from his hymnal and his eyes glare green. The pupils are
split. He grins, showing big teeth.

They are all changing. Among the things we see are:

PETE SYLVESTER, who is a church deacon, rushing down the
aisle, changing, snarling. He grabs ANDY FAIRTON and the two
of them grapple in the aisle.

A YOUNG WOMAN with a baby in her arms turns back the blanket
covering the baby's face and we see it's a wolfling; already
the YOUNG WOMAN'S own hands are turning into claws.

TAMMY STURMFULLER changing; PELTZER the druggist changing;
the ZINNEMAN BROTHERS changing.

At the organ, MRS. BOWIE is now a werewolf clad in tatters
of a silk bombazine dress; she/it is still wearing a veiled
hat on her head, and she is beating the shit out of the
organ keys with her clawed hands. She sounds like Jerry Lee
Lewis after swallowing about a dozen bennies. And now the
tune changes from the remnants of "Bringing In The Sheaves."
It changes into the Rheingold jingle.

		CONGREGATION (snarling chorus)
	My beer is Rheingold the dry beer...
	Think of Rheingold whenever you buy beer...


INT.  LOWE

FATHER LOWE goes stumbling backward, dropping his hymnal.
The man is in an extremity of terror.

		REV. LOWE
	No! No! No!


INT.  THE CONGREGATION, LOWE'S POV

Some are tearing their hymnals apart and throwing them at
each other. One guy- BILLY McCLAREN, maybe- wings one of
them through a stained-glass window. Some of the werewolves-
for they are all werewolves now- fight or make love in the
aisles. The rest sway back and forth, grinning ferociously,
singing.

		CONGREGATION (snarling it out)
	It's not bitter, not sweet, it's a real
	frosty treat...


INT.  LOWE

He looks toward:


INT.  THE MRS. BOWIE WEREWOLF, AT THE ORGAN

She grins ferociously up at him, playing the Rheingold
jingle on the pipe organ with her claws. Now blood begins to
bubble up between the keys.

		MRS. STURMFULLER AND ALL
	Won't you try, won't you buy...


INT.  THE ENTIRE CONGREGATION

The church is a wild shambles of lurching, fighting, singing
werewolves. It's like a New Year's Eve party in hell.

		CONGREGATION (big finish)
	...Rheiinngold beer!

Suddenly a clawed hand burts up through one of the coffins.
And ANDY FAIRTON, who now looks as wolflike as any of them,
bites the hand's claw off.


INT.  REV. LOWE, ON THE PODIUM

He's seen all he can stand. He whirls for the back, where
there is a small door. He pulls it open... and a BRADY
KINCAID werewolf, half torn apart but still somehow alive (a
zombie werewolf, if you can dig it- George Romero would like
it, I think) leaps out and seizes LOWE.

BRADY buries his muzzle in LOWE'S NECK.


INT.  LESTER LOWE, ECU

He sits up into THE CAMERA and SCREAMS. Sweat is running
down his face. He stares at us for a moment, his eyes buggy
and crazed... and then he closes them. There is an
expression of huge relief on his face as he does so.

		LOWE (praying)
	Let it end, dear Lord. Let it end. Please
	let it end.


EXT.  MAIN STREET  DAY

An old sedan cruises slowly down the street. ANNE and TAMMY
STURMFULLER are in the front seat. It's piled high with
possessions and is towing a jackleg trailer with more stuff
in it.


EXT.  HALLER AND PETE

		HALLER (indifferently)
	Anne Sturmfuller and her little girl.

		PETE
	Yeah... but what are they doing?

		HALLER
	Putting on my Sherlock Holmes deerstalker
	cap, I deduce that they are leaving.


EXT.  THE STURMFULLER CAR, THE COPS' POV  DAY

They are headed out of town all right, but the thing which
perhaps strikes us the most forcibly is how empty this place
is now. Main Street looks like a ghost town.


EXT. JOE HALLER AND PETE SYLVESTER, ON THE SIDEWALK

		HALLER
	She's not the only one. Lot of people
	leaving town. And I guess if we want a
	beer, we'll have to drink it at home.

He nods toward:


EXT.  OWEN'S PUB, LONG (PETE AND HALLER'S POV)

A CLOSED sign hangs in the door; above it is a big black
wreath.


EXT.  HALLER AND PETE

		PETE
	Joe, what's wrong with you? I ain't
	never seen you like this.

		HALLER (thoughtful)
	I lost my guts.

		PETE (startled)
	Bullshit.

		HALLER
	It was the Kincaid boy. I looked at him...
	and I felt it happen. It was no big deal.
	No worse than pissing down your own leg.
	You ever do that? Maybe when you were
	real scared?

PETE, distressed, does not respond.

		HALLER
	One minute I had me some guts- as much as
	the next man, anyhow- and then, poof. Gone.

PETE'S looking at him in a kind of terror.

		PETE
	Joe... you are going to feel better than
	this. This... this feeling of yours...
	it's gonna pass...

		JOE
	Is it?

He walks away, back toward the Municipal Building (the sign
out front reminds folks to SUPPORT THE MEDCU VAN!) while
PETE looks after him, very deeply troubled.


EXT.  A FAIRGROUND  DAY

It's deserted. Rides stand still. The midway is deserted.

THE CAMERA PANS slowly to a sign which reads TARKER'S MILLS
FAIRGROUNDS GALA FAIR OCTOBER 1 FIREWORKS AT DUSK 10c ON
EVERY DOLLAR GOES TO THE MEDCU VAN FUND!

A cheerful enough sign, except for the strip of paper glued
diagonally across it: FIREWORKS CANCELED.
		MARTY (voice)
	It's not fair.


INT.  THE COSLAW FAMILY STATION WAGON  DAY

It's parked across the road from the sign.

		JANE (voice)
	Look out, world! Marty the Great didn't
	get something he wanted!

They are distributed just as they were when they arrived at
this same fairgrounds earlier. All of them have ice cream
cones; they are coming home from a family outing.

		NAN COSLAW
	Stop it, Jane.

		JANE
	Well, I don't see why everybody just about
	breaks down and cries whenever he-

		BOB
	Stop it, your mother said.

They've just paused for a quick look at the sign; now BOB
pulls out onto the road again and heads toward home.


INT.  MARTY AND JANE IN THE BACKSEAT

JANE sticks her tongue out at him. MARTY looks away.


EXT.  ANGLE ON THE COSLAW GARAGE  DAY

UNCLE AL'S sports car is parked in the driveway. We hear the
CLANG of a wrench on the cement inside.


INT.  THE GARAGE  DAY

UNCLE AL and MARTY are working on the engine of the Silver
Bullet. UNCLE AL has a six-pack of beer that he's working
through. He and MARTY sit on the floor. As they talk, UNCLE
AL unscrews the last bolt holding the Bullet's carburetor
and pulls it off.

		MARTY
	It isn't enough that the monster killed all
	those people- that he killed Brady. Now he's
	got them to cancel the fair.

		UNCLE AL
	And the fireworks. Hand me that box, Marty.

MARTY hands him a medium-sized carton with the words "Speed
Shop" printed on it.

		MARTY
	Yeah, okay, the fireworks. Jane thinks that's
	all I'm mad about, but it's not. Them doing
	that is just a... a...

		UNCLE AL
	It's just an outward symbol of everything
	that's inwardly wrong in this town. Not
	bad, huh? I read Sherwood Anderson in
	college. I can jive that shit all day.

		MARTY
	Well... I like it that you always know how
	to say things, Uncle Al.

		UNCLE AL
	I'll give you the telephone numbers of my
	ex-wives, dear boy- they'll be interested
	to hear that.

		MARTY
	Don't call me dear boy.

		UNCLE AL
	But you are, you know- you are my dear boy.

He gives MARTY a kiss and smiles at him. MARTY smiles back.

		UNCLE AL
	Look at this.

He pulls out a brand-new carburetor- it's a chrome-plated
four-barrel.

		UNCLE AL (gleeful)
	This is gonna turn your wheelchair into
	a fucking F-14, Marty-

He looks around quickly, guiltily.

		UNCLE AL
	Your mom's not around, is she?

		MARTY
	She and dad are out back lighting the
	barbecue. Jane's walking around like she's
	King Shit of Turd Mountain. Like always.

		UNCLE AL
	Uh-huh. Only in her case I guess it would be
	Queen Shit of Turd Mountain. Hand me that
	adjustable.

MARTY does. UNCLE AL slides the carb onto the gasket and
starts attaching bolts.

		UNCLE AL
	The guy killed your best friend, drove your
	girl out of town, and stole the second-best
	holiday in the year. Have I got it right?

		MARTY (glum)
	You got it right, Uncle Al.

		UNCLE AL
	Yeah, Winesburg, Ohio, was never like that...
	but I got something that just might cheer
	you up.

		MARTY
	What?

		UNCLE AL
	Wait, dear boy. Just wait. Hand me those pliars.


EXT.  UNCLE AL, AT THE SIDE OF THE COSLAW HOUSE  DAY

He peeks into the backyard.


EXT.  THE BACK YARD, UNCLE AL'S POV

BOB and NAN are fussing over the barbecue. JANE is hitting a
badminton birdie.


EXT.  THE ROAD IN FRONT OF COSLAWS', WITH MARTY

MARTY is sitting in the Silver Bullet.

UNCLE AL comes hurrying back from his look-see.

		UNCLE AL
	All is cool, Marty-boy. Go for it.

MARTY pushes the starter. The engine starts at once, but the
tone is entirely different. Before, MARTY'S wheelchair was a
poppety-popping pussycat. Now the engine rumbles like a
hood's street rod idling at a traffic light.

MARTY looks startled.

		UNCLE AL (grinning)
	Gun it.

MARTY guns it. The engine roars.

		UNCLE AL
	Jesus! Not too much!

		MARTY (awed)
	Wow.

		UNCLE AL
	You got a pilot's license, Marty?

		MARTY
	Do I need one?

		UNCLE AL
	We're gonna find out. Take it down the
	road a ways and back. Be careful.

MARTY puts the Bullet in gear and pulls away.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

CAMERA TRACKS HIM up the road. He goes slowly at first, but
he lets it out a little after a while. He's really moving
along- thirty, maybe forty miles an hour. The wind blows the
hair off his forehead. He begins to grin. He's enjoying
this.


EXT.  UNCLE AL, WATCHING

He drinks some beer. He's grinning, happy for MARTY.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He slows down, turns, stops. He revs the engine. VROOM!
VRROOM!


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET'S MOTOR, CU

A lot of changes back here. It looks almost like a motorcyle
engine now. That chromed-silver carb predominates.

SOUND: VAROOOOOOOM!


EXT.  MARTY, CU

Grinning. Looking at:


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE, MARTY'S POV

It's about a quarter of a mile away.


EXT. MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He winds the engine up and pops the clutch. The Silver
Bullet doesn't so much accelerate as blast off. It tilts
back on its wheels. MARTY swivels into a position like that
of an astronaut on lift-off. The Silver Bullet looks like a
motorcycle popping a wheelie. MARTY has a great big grin on
his face.


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET, MEDIUM-LONG

Roaring down the highway at fifty or better, blue smoke
jetting from the exhaust. MARTY is plastered back in the
seat with the footrest pointing up at an angle. He's
laughing like a lunatic.


EXT.  UNCLE AL, PEEKING THROUGH HIS FINGERS

		UNCLE AL (to himself)
	The kid's dead meat. What have I done?
		(shouts)
	Put a rock in it, Marty!


EXT.  MARTY IN THE BULLET

He uses the hand brakes. SOUND of braking and squealing
rubber.


EXT.  MARTY AND UNCLE AL

The Silver Bullet comes to a screeching, sluing stop near
UNCLE AL. Blue smoke drifts up from the wheels. MARTY guns
the engine once and then lets it idle.

		UNCLE AL
	You gave me a heart attack, Marty. I'm
	dying. I hope you're happy, because you
	are looking at a dying man.

		MARTY
	It really goes fast. Thanks, Uncle Al.

		UNCLE AL
	It goes fast, all right- and if your mother
	finds out just how fast, Marty, I will have
	a new job. Singing soprano with the Vienna
	Boys' Choir.

		MARTY
	I don't get you.

		UNCLE AL
	I know you don't. But I want this to be our
	secret. You get that, don't you?

		MARTY
	Sure.

		UNCLE AL
	Good.


EXT.  THE NIGHT SKY, WITH THE MOON

The last bit of daylight is just filtering away.


EXT.  THE COSLAW BACKYARD

The barbecue is over. BOB and JANE are putting lawn chairs
on the back porch. MARTY, NAN, and UNCLE AL are all in the
f.g.

		UNCLE AL
	I've got to go, Nan- I had a wonderful time.

He kisses her cheek affectionately, and she smiles at him.

		NAN
	So have I, actually... I wish it could always
	be like this.

		UNCLE AL
	See me around to my car, Marty, and make sure
	I stay out of trouble at least that long.

		MARTY
	Okay.

He and UNCLE AL go around to the driveway. NAN looks at them
with troubled love.


EXT.  THE COSLAW DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY AND UNCLE AL

		UNCLE AL
	Now I said I had something for you, as
	I believe you will recall.

		MARTY
	Yeah! What is it?

AL unlocks the trunk of his car and brings out a paper
shopping bag. He places the bag in MARTY'S lap. MARTY opens
the bag, but it's really too dark to see inside. He reaches
in and brings out a handful of assorted fireworks- crackers,
Roman candles, twizzers, smoke bombs, etc.

An expression of sublime delight fills MARTY'S face as he
inventories these goodies.

		UNCLE AL
	You're gonna have the Fourth of July in
	October, Marty. Just don't blow your head
	off. (Pause) And remember that it isn't
	just the fireworks. It's because no crazy
	shithead should be able to stop the good
	guys, if you can dig that.

		MARTY (respectfully)
	I can dig it- thank you, Uncle Al! Thank you!

		UNCLE AL
	Stay near the house, for Christ's sake-
	someone's killing people. I have to be out of
	my mind to be doing this, you know.

		MARTY
	Yeah, I know. It's great!

		UNCLE AL
	One of the reasons I love you, Marty, is that
	you're almost as crazy as I am. Please don't
	set off anything that goes bang tonight, okay?
	Just bright colors. Can you tell the difference?

		MARTY
	Yeah... sure.

		UNCLE AL
	Save this one for last.

He brings out a short rocket with stubby vanes on the end. A
fat fuse sticks out behind the head.

		MARTY
	What is it?

		UNCLE AL
	A tracer. You'll like it.

		MARTY
	Thanks a million, Uncle Al!

		UNCLE AL
	You're welcome a million, Marty. Stick 'em
	in the bushes for now.

MARTY motors over to the side of the garage, where there's a
line of bushes, and conceals the bag in them. UNCLE AL gets
in his car and starts it up. MARTY comes back.

		UNCLE AL (grinning)
	Have a good time, dear boy! And watch out
	for the werewolves!

He leaves. MARTY sits in his wheelchair, waving.


EXT.  THE REAR OF THE COSLAW HOUSE  NIGHT

There's a downspout outside one of the upstairs windows. Now
the window goes up and MARTY leans out. He grasps the
downspout and begins working his way down. This should not
be too hard for us to believe; we've already seen how strong
MARTY'S arms are.

His legs dangle limply, but he's doing just fine. When he
reaches the bottom of the drainpipe, they simply crumple
under him and he uses his arms to pull himself over to the
back porch.

MARTY hoists himself over the porch rail. Here, under a
tarp, is the Silver Bullet. MARTY pushes the tarp aside and
gets in. He uses his hands on the wheels to get over the
porch ramp and rolls silently down it. At the bottom he
looks up at:


EXT.  AN UPSTAIRS WINDOW, MARTY'S POV  NIGHT

Still a light on up there.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE BULLET

		MARTY (whispers)
	Shit!

Thinks a bit, then starts to hand-roll the Bullet toward:


EXT.  THE PATH BETWEEN THE HOUSE AND THE GARAGE

MARTY comes slowly up the path. We hear soft grunts of
exertion; he's still hand-turning the wheels for the sake of
silence, and it's hard work. He stops at the line of bushes
and gets the bag of fireworks. He puts it on his lap and
starts moving again.


EXT.  THE COSLAW DRIVEWAY, FROM THE ROAD

The driveway has a slight downslant, and MARTY coasts easily
out to the road. He turns right and begins to roll slowly
along the verge of the highway, still using his hands. We
can see that the light is still on upstairs. MARTY turns
back once to verify this himself, then keeps on going. He's
not going to be deprived of his treat.


EXT.  MARTY

He decides he's far enough away to be safe. He pushes the
starter button. The engine cranks, coughs, and cranks some
more. MARTY frowns, and pulls out a wire- a rudimentary
choke, I suppose. He pushes the starter button again. It
cranks, but doesn't start.

MARTY pushes in the wire, looking concerned now, and tries
again. This time, after the engine has cranked over a few
times, it starts.

		MARTY (softly)
	All right!

He puts it in gear and starts off.


EXT.  THE ROAD, WITH MARTY, EXTREMELY LONG

What we see is a tiny boy in a tiny wheelchair moving along
a dark, empty ribbon of road under a vast dome of stars.

DISTANT SOUND: The Bullet's engine.


EXT.  A ROADSIDE TURNOUT  NIGHT

SOUND: Fast-rushing water.

The turnout is packed dirt. There's a grove of trees with
picnic tables spotted among them at the back. The sign in
the extreme f.g. reads ROADSIDE REST AREA at the top; AUGER
FALLS in the middle; TOWNSHIP OF TARKER'S MILLS at the
bottom.

SOUND: The Silver Bullet approaching.

MARTY turns in and rolls to the back of the rest area. He
stops by one of the picnic tables and dumps the bag of
fireworks out onto the picnic table and takes his time
selecting the first- he's like a wine fancier with a whole
cellar of rare bottles to choose from. At last he chooses a
twizzer. He takes matches from the pocket of his pajama top
and lights the fuse.

When it starts to fizz, MARTY tosses it high into the air.

		MARTY (soft)
	Here's one for the good guys!


EXT.  THE TWIZZER

It flies in an arc over the drop.


EXT.  THE TWIZZER, FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE CUT

THE CAMERA TRACKS ITS FALL onto some rocks at the edge of
the waterfall's catch pool.

SOUND: Growling.


EXT.  THE CREEK, WITH THE WEREWOLF

It has been drinking from the creek. It looks more than half
human now- we would be able to recognize it for sure, but
its face is in shadow.

It turns from the creek and gets up on its hind legs.


EXT.  THE TWIZZER, ON THE ROCKS

It's guttering out. A hand-paw touches it and draws back
quickly.

SOUND: Hurt, angry growl.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE REST AREA

He's getting ready to light one of the fountains. He pauses
and looks toward the cut. He's heard something- but the
waterfall muffles it. He lights the fountain's fuse, sets it
on the ground, and rolls the Bullet back a few feet.

The fountain bursts into a shower of light.

		MARTY (delighted)
	All right!


EXT.  THE SLOPE OF THE CUT, MEDIUM LONG

The waterfall is in the b.g.

The WEREWOLF is climbing the rocky slope.


EXT.  THE FOUNTAIN, CU

It goes out.


EXT.  MARTY

He rolls over to the picnic table and gets a Roman candle.
He plants the stick in the ground and lights the fuse. The
Roman candle shoots into the sky.


EXT.  THE ROMAN CANDLE

Bursts into colored light.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF, NEAR THE TOP OF THE CUT, MEDIUM LONG

It GROWLS... and shakes its fists at the fading light in the
sky.


EXT.  MARTY

He's holding another fountain in one hand and his matches in
the other. He's looking toward the cut and the waterfall.

		MARTY
	Is someone there?


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF, NEAR THE TOP OF THE CUT

It freezes, GROWLING FAINTLY.


EXT.  MARTY

With a little shrug, he lights the fuse on the fountain and
sets it on the ground, as before.


EXT.  THE BACK OF THE GROVE, AT THE TOP OF THE CUT

Claw-hands settle over the top.


EXT.  THE FOUNTAIN, CU

It throws off fiery swirls of sparks, then begins to die
down.


EXT.  MARTY

He's checking out the stuff on the table for his next choice
when he hears a clear SOUND: A SNAPPING, SPLINTERING BRANCH.


EXT.  THE GROVE, WITH THE WEREWOLF

It's run into a low-hanging branch. Instead of pushing it
aside or ducking under it, it simply rips it off the tree.
Although the branch is pretty big, the WEREWOLF does this as
easily as a hungry man might rip a drumstick off a
Thanksgiving turkey. It throws the branch aside and
advances, hunched over on two legs.


EXT.  MARTY

		MARTY (terrified)
	Who's there?


EXT.  THE GROVE AT THE BACK OF THE REST AREA, MARTY'S POV

The grove is a darkened shadowland.


EXT.  MARTY

He punches the Bullet's starter. The motor cranks and
cranks. No go, though. MARTY pulls out the choke wire,
alternating terrified stares at the grove of trees with
terrified stares at his rudimentary dashboard.


EXT.  THE GROVE, MARTY'S POV

Here it comes, out of the shadows, closing in.


EXT.  MARTY

Working that starter for all it's worth... but the motor
only cranks. Still no start.


EXT.  CLAWED, FURRY FEET


EXT.  MARTY

He gives up on the motor. He looks toward the picnic table
where the fireworks are. He grabs up the tracer. He gets the
matches out of the breast pocket of his p.j.'s and promptly
drops them in his lap. He scrabbles for them.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF, MARTY'S POV

We can't see its face in the dark, but it's closer... much
closer.


EXT.  MARTY

He tries to hold the tracer and strike a match at the same
time.
He can't; to do that he'd need at least one more hand. He
puts the tube of the tracer between his teeth and tries
again.


EXT.  THE MATCHBOOK AND MARTY'S HANDS

He strikes the match... too hard! It bends, the neck broken.

		MARTY (voice; moaning)
	Oh, please...


EXT.  WEREWOLF CLAWS, OPENING AND CLOSING


EXT.  MARTY

He is in an extremity of terror.


EXT.  THE MATCHBOOK AND MARTY'S HANDS, CU

He pulls a fresh match from the book and strikes it. It
lights.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF

It recoils- we still can't see its face except for a vague
shadow.

(NOTE: I keep emphasizing the shadowed face, because this is
not a full-moon period. I've been going on the assumption
that the guy kind of works his way up to full wolfiness,
toothiness, hairiness, etc., starting with a partial change
at about the second quarter. It's a process like the tide
coming in. Thus, if we saw MARTY'S attacker clearly at this
point, I think we would recognize him.)


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He takes the tracer from his mouth and applies the match to
the fuse. It splutters alight.


EXT.  MARTY AND THE WEREWOLF, A WIDER SHOT

The WEREWOLF is less than twenty feet away. The tracer
flares alight and shoots out of MARTY'S hand, leaving a
pink-orange trail of smoke behind it. The missile flies at
the WEREWOLF's head.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF

The tracer strikes it in the face, and we see a flash of
fire. The WEREWOLF screams and blunders away.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He punches the starter again. The motor cranks.


EXT.  THE MOTOR OF THE SILVER BULLET

The motor coughs and fires; a big blue flame jumps from the
fancy carb... and the engine starts to run.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF

It's staggering away, ROARING and HOWLING. The tube of the
tracer is sticking out of its face- from its left eye, in
fact- like an Indian's arrow. The WEREWOLF smashes branches
out of its way.


EXT.  MARTY IN THE SILVER BULLET

He wheels the Bullet around and heads for the road, gasping
and weeping with fear.


EXT.  THE WEREWOLF, IN THE GROVE

It's blundering through the trees. It pulls the tube from
its face with an ANIMAL SCREAM and drops it.


EXT.  THE TRACER, CU

It lies smoldering on the ground. The end is slick with
blood.


EXT.  THE ROAD, WITH MARTY

The Bullet is really wheeling. MARTY is panting, out of
breath, still deeply frightened.


EXT.  THE WOODS, WITH THE WEREWOLF

We see it blundering along, holding its face; blood bubbles
through its fingers.

		WEREWOLF (snarling voice)
	Bastard Marty! Bastard Marty! Kill you!
	Reeeal slow!


EXT.  COSLAW DRIVEWAY, WITH MARTY

He powers up it, and along the path to the back. Perhaps he
has enough speed to cut the engine and coast.


INT.  MARTY'S BEDROOM

His bed is by the window. His hands appear on the
windowsill, and MARTY pulls himself in. He falls over onto
his bed and lies there, spent and exhausted and trembling.


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE, VERY EARLY MORNING

SOUND: RINGING TELEPHONE (FILTER)


INT.  THE COSLAW LIVING ROOM, WITH MARTY

He's sitting in the "house" wheelchair in the living room,
holding the phone tensely to his ear as the RINGING SOUND
goes on.

A CLICK as the phone is picked up.

		UNCLE AL (muzzy voice)
	'Lo? Go away.

		MARTY
	It's a werewolf! I saw it! Last night-


INT.  UNCLE AL'S BEDROOM

Not a really spiffy place- the decor is Early American
Alcoholic. There's a mostly unclad lady asleep on one side
of the bed. UNCLE AL is sitting on the other in his
skivvies, phone to his ear. There are a lot of bottles and
heaped ashtrays around, and UNCLE AL has a big old hangover.

		UNCLE AL
	You dreamed it, Marty.

		MARTY (voice)
	No! I went out late last night- and-

		UNCLE AL
	There are no such things as werewolves.
	Please, dear boy, have some pity.

He hangs up and falls back into bed.

		GIRL (muzzy voice)
	Whowuzzit?

		UNCLE AL
	Obscene phone caller. Go back to sleep.


EXT.  THE BACK PORCH, WITH MARTY

He's sitting on the Silver Bullet, just looking at the yard.
JANE comes out.

		JANE
	Marty? You okay? You've just been sitting
	here all morning.

		MARTY
	Where's Mom?

		JANE
	Went shopping. Why?

		MARTY
	Jane, I have to talk to you.

		JANE (mistrustfully)
	About what?

MARTY looks at her earnestly.

		MARTY
	I need you to help me. Uncle Al won't
	believe me, and if you won't help me, I...
	I...

MARTY has to stop. He's almost crying.

		JANE (concerned)
	Marty, what is it?


EXT.  MAIN STREET, MEDIUM LONG, WITH JANE

JANE is pushing a supermarket shopping cart with a lot of
beer and soda bottles in it. On the side is a sign reading
MEDCU BOTTLE AND CAN DRIVE- plus an outline drawing of the
Medcu unit.

		JANE (voice-over)
	He told me something that was clearly
	unbelievable... and yet, somehow I
	believed most of it. And I understood
	one thing with total clarity: Marty
	himself believed it all.

She turns into a yard and pulls her cart up the walk to the
door. She mounts the steps and rings the bell.


EXT.  THE PORCH, WITH JANE, A CLOSER SHOT

A sheer curtain at one side of the door is pulled aside and
a fearful face- that of MRS. THAYER- looks out. Then we hear
bolts being pulled and locks- at least three of them- being
unlocked. The lady is taking no chances.

		MRS. THAYER
	Jane?

		JANE (politely)
	I'm collecting returnable bottles and
	cans for the Medcu Drive, Missus Thayer-
	I just wondered if you had any.

Her husband comes up the hall.

		MR. THAYER
	Who is it?

		MRS. THAYER
	Jane Coslaw.


EXT.  JANE

What we see mostly are her eyes- bright, inquiring.

		JANE
	Hi, Mr. Thayer.


INT.  LON THAYER, ECU

What we see mostly are his brown eyes.

		MR. THAYER
	Hello, Jane.


EXT.  THE PORCH, WITH JANE AND MRS. THAYER

		MRS. THAYER
	Bring your cart around to the back, Jane-
	we'll look in the garage.

		JANE
	Thank you.

She starts down the steps and we


			DISSOLVE TO:


EXT.  JANE, ON MAIN STREET  DAY

Amazing how deserted Tarker's Mills looks. JANE is pushing
her cart. Even more bottles in it now.

		JANE (voice-over)
	Uncle Al hadn't believed him, but Uncle Al
	was thirty-five that summer and I was
	fourteen... at fourteen you can still believe
	the unbelievable, although even then that
	ability is growing rusty, is preparing to
	squeal to a stop.

She is passing the Holy Family rectory. LESTER LOWE is out
front, digging in his flower garden. He is shirtless, back
to JANE and to us; his black shirt with the turned-around
collar hangs informally on a bush.

		JANE (calls)
	Hi, Father Lowe!

		LOWE (without turning)
	Top of the morning to you, Jane Coslaw!

		JANE
	I'm going to bring in a monster load
	of bottles in an hour or so!

		LOWE (still digging)
	That's great, Jane... I'll be waiting.


EXT.  JANE, FARTHER DOWN MAIN STREET

She stops at Robertson's Luncheonette, leaves her cart
outside, and goes in. THE CAMERA FLOATS TO THE WINDOW; we
see JANE explaining about the bottle campaign to BOBBY while
a few men seated at the counter listen.


INT.  JANE, ECU

Wide eyes, mostly.


INT.  BOBBY ROBERTSON, ECU

Mostly eyes.


INT.  ROBERTSON'S, FEATURING JANE

As she turns away, her eyes sweep the men at the counter.


INT.  THE MEN, JANE'S POV

Some of them- PELTZER, VIRGIL CUTTS- are familiar. Others
are not. THE CAMERA PANS THEIR FACES CLOSELY, FEATURING
THEIR EYES.


EXT.  OUTSIDE ROBERTSON'S, WITH JANE

She grabs the handle of the cart again and proceeds down
Main Street. She goes into the barber shop.

		JANE (v-o)
	Marty had seen where the tracer had
	struck home, he said, and I went out
	that day doing more than just looking
	for returnable cans and bottles- I was
	looking for a man- or woman- with only
	one eye.


INT.  THE BARBER SHOP  DAY

As JANE enters, BILLY McCLAREN is giving one man a trim.
Another man is tipped back with his face wrapped in a towel.
Two or three other townies are waiting on tonsorial
beautification, reading magazines. None, of course, has only
one eye. JANE checks them all out carefully.

		BILLY
	I know what you're after, Jane, and you're
	out of luck. Little Toby Whittislaw was in
	yesterday, and I gave 'em all to him.

		JANE
	Oh... okay.

But her eyes have fixed on the towel over the face of the
man in the other barber chair. She walks over to him.


INT.  JANE AND THE TOWELED MAN, CLOSER ON

		JANE
	That you, Mr. Fairton?

		ANDY FAIRTON (muffled)
	No- it's Ronald McDonald. I came in for
	a shave and a burger.

The men laugh. JANE smiles politely. And pulls the hot towel
away from his eyes. His two eyes.

		JANE (sweetly)
	Got any bottles, Mr. Fairton?

		ANDY
	No!

		JANE (just as sweet)
	Oh... okay.

She puts the towel back and THE CAMERA FOLLOWS as she
returns to the door.

		JANE
	'Bye, Mr. McClaren.

		BILLY (amused)
	'Bye, Jane.

		ANDY (muffled)
	Jesus!

JANE goes out.


EXT.  JANE, AT THE RECTORY

She pushes the shopping cart up to the gate, opens it, and
goes up the walk to the foot of LOWE'S porch steps. She
leaves it there and climbs to the porch.


EXT.  JANE, ON THE PORCH

The screen door is shut, the inner wooden door open.


INT.  THE RECTORY HALLWAY, JANE'S POV

Dark and empty. SOUNDS in the kitchen. EATING SOUNDS, maybe-
or maybe we can't tell.


EXT.  JANE, ON THE PORCH

She knocks on the screen door.

		JANE
	Father Lowe! I'm ready to turn in my
	bottles and cans!


INT.  THE KITCHEN

LOWE is standing by the refrigerator door. He's holding a
raw leg of lamb and tearing at it with his teeth. Lamb blood
smears his face and runs down his arms. He is as human as
you or me (in a manner of speaking, as UNCLE AL would say),
but when JANE speaks, his head snaps up and his eye flares-
his one eye. The other is covered by a patch.

		JANE (voice)
	Father?

		LOWE
	Take your cart around to the garage
	and unload, Jane! Then bring me your
	tally sheet!


EXT.  JANE, ON THE PORCH

		JANE
	Okay!


EXT.  JANE, A WIDER SHOT

She goes down the steps and starts to push the cart around
the house.


INT.  THE KITCHEN, WITH LOWE

He crosses to the window over the kitchen sink, the bloody
chunk of meat still in his hands, and looks out.


EXT.  JANE, LOWE'S POV

She pushes the cart along a path toward a combination garage
and utility shed at the back.


INT.  THE KITCHEN, WITH LOWE

Still watching JANE, he begins to gnaw ravenously at the
meat again.


EXT.  JANE, AT THE SHED-GARAGE

She opens the door and slowly pushes her cart inside.


INT.  THE UTILITY SHED-GARAGE, WITH JANE

This is a creepy little place, now filled with bottles and
cans that have been crammed in helter-skelter, every which
way. JANE obviously doesn't like it. She begins to unload
her cart rapidly, mumbling numbers to herself.

SOUND: SQUEAKING.

JANE looks down.


INT.  THE UTILITY SHED-GARAGE FLOOR, JANE'S POV

A good-sized mouse comes out from between a pile of stacked
bottles and runs across JANE'S shoe.


INT.  JANE

She utters a litle scream and shrinks back against the wall,
bumping it quite hard. Hard enough to knock something off an
overhead shelf. It falls into the bottles, SHATTERING
several. JANE screams again- not terribly loud- and then
slowly bends toward the object and picks it up.

JANE holds it, both puzzled and scared.


EXT.  THE BACK DOOR OF THE RECTORY

JANE approaches it, holding a piece of paper in her hand-
her tally sheet. She knocks. Waits. There is no answer. She
knocks again. Waits. No answer. She tries the door. It
opens.

		JANE
	Father Lowe?

No answer. After a moment of interior debate, JANE enters
the kitchen.


INT.  JANE, IN THE RECTORY KITCHEN

She looks around. No one here. But there is a bloody spot on
the counter- LOWE must have set his grisly luncheon down
here for a moment. She walks slowly across the kitchen and
into the dark hall.

		JANE
	Father Lowe?... I've got my tally sheet...

Farther into the hall. A hand drops onto her shoulder.

		LOWE (voice)
	Very good, Jane!

She jumps, and so do we. She turns around and looks up at:


INT.  FATHER LOWE, ECU

Featuring his eyes- his eye, rather. The left is covered
with a black eye-patch.

		LOWE (grins)
	Good, Jane. Very... very good.

He holds his hand out, and JANE puts the tally sheet in it
like one in a dream. She can't take her eyes off that black
patch, which tells her everything.


INT.  THE HALLWAY, WITH JANE AND LOWE

		LOWE (concerned)
	Jane! You're trembling!

		JANE
	I... I don't feel so well, I guess
	maybe I got too much sun.

		LOWE
	Would you like to come in the parlor and
	lie down for a bit? Or have a cold drink?
	I have some soda-

		JANE
	No! (softer) That is, I have to get home
	and help my mom with lunch.

		LOWE
	I'll give you a ride!

JANE is retreating down the hall toward the front door.

		JANE
	No- she... she was going to meet me at the
	market. I'll be fine.


INT.  LOWE, CU

How much does he know? How much has he guessed? Hard to tell
from his face, which now seems sinister, with its eye-patch.

		LOWE
	Give my best to your brother, Jane.


INT.  JANE, AT THE PORCH END OF THE HALLWAY

		JANE
	I will.

She bolts.


INT.  LOWE, IN THE HALLWAY

CAMERA HOLDS ON HIM, standing silent and enigmatic.

		LOWE (soft)
	Real slow.


EXT.  THE COSLAW BACKYARD, WITH MARTY

His eyes are wide. He's leaning forward in his wheelchair.

		MARTY (almost moaning)
	Oh, Jeez! What did you do then?


EXT.  JANE AND MARTY

She's changed into shorts and a blouse.

		JANE
	I ran faster than I ever ran in my life-
	what do you think, dummox? By the time I
	got back here, I really thought I was
	going to faint. (Pause) What are we going
	to do, Marty? If we tried to tell anybody-
	grown-ups, I mean- they'd laugh. What are
	we going to do?

		MARTY (thoughtfully)
	I think I know.


INT.  A SHEET OF RULED SCHOOL NOTEBOOK PAPER, CU

A hand- MARTY'S- comes into the frame and prints: I KNOW WHO
YOU ARE, AND I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE.


INT.  MARTY'S ROOM, WITH MARTY

He's sitting at his desk, a pool of light from the lamp
focused on the sheet of paper before him. He thinks a
moment, then begins to write again.


INT.  THE NOTEBOOK PAD, CU

He is adding: WHY DON'T YOU KILL YOURSELF?


INT.  MARTY, AT HIS DESK

He studies this for a second, and seems satisfied. He opens
a drawer, brings out an envelope, and folds his letter into
it.


EXT.  JANE, ON MAIN STREET

She has the letter in her hand. She approaches the mailbox,
opens the mailbox door, and then glances at the envelope
again.


EXT.  THE ENVELOPE, JANE'S POV

Addressed in pencil, it says: FATHER LESTER LOWE/HOLY FAMILY
RECTORY; 149 MAIN STREET/TARKER'S MILLS, MAINE.


EXT.  JANE, AT THE MAILBOX

She drops the letter in with the air of a girl lighting the
fuse on a packet of high explosives. She turns away toward
home.


INT.  THE RECTORY LIVING ROOM, WITH LESTER LOWE

He's standing at the window and looking out. The torn-open
envelope is on an end table beside him. He's holding the
lined sheet of paper in his hand. An expression of bitter
hate twists his features, and he slowly crumples the paper
in his fist.


EXT.  JANE, AT THE MAIN STREET MAILBOX

She drops in another letter and walks away.

		JANE (v-o)
	I mailed another letter for Marty the
	next day... a third the day after that.
	Then, on Saturday...


EXT.  THE TARKER'S MILLS COMMON, LONG

Parked at the curb is UNCLE AL'S sports car.

		JANE (v-o)
	...we told Uncle Al what we'd been up to.
	(Pause) His reaction was less than serene.


EXT.  UNCLE AL, JANE, AND MARTY, ON THE COMMON

		UNCLE AL
	Holy-jumped-up-baldheaded-Jesus-CHRIST!

		JANE
	Uncle Al-

		UNCLE AL (to JANE)
	From him I'd expect it. I sometimes think
	his common sense got paralyzed along with
	his legs. But you, Jane! You! Little
	Polly Practical!

		JANE (quiet)
	You don't understand.

		UNCLE AL (wildly)
	Oh, I understand plenty! I understand that
	my niece and nephew are sending the local
	Catholic priest little love notes suggesting
	that he gargle with a broken light bulb or
	eat a rat-poison omelet!

		MARTY
	It came for me! I shot it in the eye! Now he's
	wearing an eye-patch!

		UNCLE AL
	I called Peltzer on my way over here,
	Marty! Father Lowe came into the drugstore
	two days ago for a bottle of otic solution.
	That's a fancy way of saying eyewash. He's
	got a corneal inflammation.

		MARTY
	Was it a prescription?

		UNCLE AL
	What the hell does that matter?

		MARTY
	It wasn't- I'll bet you it wasn't. Because
	to get a prescription he'd have to see a
	doctor.

		UNCLE AL
	Marty, Marty, you should hear yourself!

		MARTY
	Well... was it a prescription?

		UNCLE AL
	I don't know. But I know you didn't see
	any werewolf the other night, Marty. You
	had a dream, that's all. An extremely
	realistic nightmare brought on by what's
	been happening in this town.

		MARTY
	What about the baseball bat Jane saw in
	his shed? You know who used to have a
	baseball bat like that? Mr. Knopfler! He
	was so proud of it he used to carry it in
	the Fourth of July parade! Jane said it
	looked like the Green Giant used it for
	a toothpick!

		UNCLE AL
	You want to know what I think?

		MARTY
	No- we just got you out here so we could
	admire your pretty face.

		UNCLE AL
	Watch it, dear boy. I think it was a
	hallucination. Probably a broomstick, or
	something.

		JANE (indignant)
	It was not! You want me to show you! Come
	on! I'm not afraid! I'll show you right now!

		UNCLE AL
	No thank you, Jane. I'm a little old for
	palying the Hardy Boys Meet the Catholic
	Werewolf.

JANE stamps her foot, furious with UNCLE AL.

		MARTY
	Never mind, Jane. He'll have gotten rid of
	it by now anyway.


EXT.  OUTSIDE OF ROBERTSON'S LUNCHEONETTE

The Silver Bullet stands outside. The door opens and UNCLE
AL, JANE, and MARTY come out. UNCLE AL is carrying MARTY
piggyback. MARTY has an ice cream cone. JANE is holding two.

UNCLE AL squats, depositing MARTY in the Bullet. MARTY
starts the engine as JANE hands UNCLE AL his ice cream cone.
The three of them start up the street and THE CAMERA TRACKS
THEM.

		JANE
	If Father Lowe is an innocent little lamb,
	why hasn't he picked up the telephone and
	called Constable Haller to tell him Marty's
	sending poison-pen letters?

		UNCLE AL
	I don't accept the idea that he knows who his
	letter writer is, Jane. Because I don't accept
	the idea that there was a big bad wolf who saw
	Marty in his wheelchair.

		JANE
	Why hasn't he picked up the phone and told
	Constable Haller that someone is sending
	him poison-pen letters?

UNCLE AL stops. He hasn't thought of this. He looks toward:


EXT.  THE CATHOLIC RECTORY, LONG - UNCLE AL'S POV

LESTER LOWE is mowing the lawn, eye-patch and all.


EXT.  MAIN STREET, WITH UNCLE AL, MARTY, AND JANE

		UNCLE AL (a bit perplexed)
	Well... he probably did. I mean, he could
	make a complaint without taking an ad out
	in the paper, couldn't he?

		MARTY
	I'll bet you a quarter that eyewash stuff
	was nonprescription. And I'll bet you
	another quarter he hasn't said anything
	to Mr. Haller.

		UNCLE AL
	Marty, do you see your suspect?


EXT.  THE RECTORY LAWN, WITH LESTER LOWE

Keeps on moving. MR. ASPINALL drives by and waves. LOWE
waves back.


EXT.  MAIN STREET, WITH UNCLE AL, MARTY, AND JANE

		MARTY (grim)
	Yes, I see him.

		UNCLE AL
	Do you really think that a man who took
	a rocket in the eye three nights ago
	could be out mowing his lawn? He'd either
	be in the hospital... or dead.

		MARTY
	I didn't shoot him when he was a man. I shot
	him when he was-

		UNCLE AL
	When he was a werewolf. Yes. Right. Jesus.
	Jane, you don't really believe this madness,
	do you?

		JANE
	I don't know exactly what I believe. But I
	know that what I saw was a baseball bat and
	not a broomstick. I know there was something
	strange about the way the house smelled that
	day. It smelled like an animal's den. And I
	believe in Marty. I mean- there are times
	when he makes me so mad I could kill him, but
	I still believe in him. (Pause) You used to
	believe in him, too, Uncle Al.

UNCLE AL looks momentarily ashamed of himself. Then he
throws his hands up in disgust.

		UNCLE AL
	Kids!

He walks ahead of them. MARTY bats his eyes sweetly at JANE.

She walks on, miffed. MARTY gooses the Silver Bullet to
catch up.


EXT.  A FIELD ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN  DAY

It's midafternoon. A bunch of kids are playing baseball. In
the extreme f.g. we see one small boy- MARTY- sitting back
to us in his wheelchair, watching.


EXT.  AN OLD COUPE

It draws slowly along a tree-lined lane and stops. LESTER
LOWE is behind the wheel.

SOUNDS OF THE BASEBALL GAME CONTINUE.


EXT.  THE BASEBALL FIELD, AND MARTY, LOWE'S POV

THE CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY IN ON MARTY'S BACK.


EXT.  LESTER LOWE

		LOWE (quietly)
	Little bastard.


EXT.  A FLY BALL


EXT.  THE FIELD, A WIDER SHOT

The field team heads in. Kids start streaming back toward
town.


EXT.  MARTY

The OUTFIELDER who caught the fly trots past, and glances
his way.

		OUTFIELDER
	You comin' down to Robertson's for a
	soda, Marty?

		MARTY
	No- I guess I'll go home.

I think that here we are seeing a rare moment of depression
in MARTY- they can run and play ball. He can't.

		OUTFIELDER
	Okay- seeya!

		MARTY
	Yeah... seeya.

He fires up the Bullet and starts away alone.


EXT.  LOWE'S COUPE

He starts it up.


EXT.  MARTY, LOWE'S POV

He bumps up a grassy slope to a tarred road. The last of the
other kids are headed back the other way. MARTY is alone.


EXT.  LOWE'S COUPE

It turns out of the lane where it was parked and onto the
road.


EXT.  MARTY'S WHEELCHAIR, LOWE'S POV

MARTY'S back is to us. The wheelchair draws rapidly closer
to THE CAMERA as LOWE bears down on it.


INT.  LOWE, BEHIND THE COUPE'S WHEEL

He leans over the wheel, grinning sadistically.

		LOWE (whispers)
	Bastard.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He's daydreaming his way along- maybe, inside his head, he's
playing center field for the Dodgers.

SOUND: Winding roar of a car engine. MARTY turns around.


EXT.  LOWE'S COUPE, MARTY'S POV, ROARING AT THE CAMERA


EXT.  MARTY AND LOWE'S COUPE

MARTY opens the throttle wide and the Bullet swerves across
the road. The coupe's bumper actually clips it on the way
by, jolting MARTY and almost overturning the Bullet.

LOWE'S coupe veers over the embankment and partway down into
the ditch.


INT.  LOWE, BEHIND THE WHEEL OF THE COUPE

		LOWE
	Oh, you bastard!

He floors the engine.


EXT.  THE COUPE'S REAR WHEELS

Spinning helplessly in the dirt.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He speeds past the coupe, and thumbs his nose.


INT.  LOWE, IN THE COUPE

He's in a teeth-grinding fury. He jams the gear-shift lever
into reverse and floors the gas pedal again.


EXT.  THE COUPE

It roars backward in a cloud of ditch dust and bounces onto
the road. Then it screams out after the rapidly disappearing
Silver Bullet.


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET, WITH MARTY

He hears the GROWLING SOUND of LESTER LOWE'S coupe. He looks
behind.


EXT.  THE COUPE

Roars toward THE CAMERA.


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He twists the throttle and the Silver Bullet responds.


EXT.  CHASE MONTAGE

The director will shoot it as he likes- the basis is simple:
LOWE is chasing MARTY's hopped-up wheelchair along a country
road at speeds approaching fifty MPH. MARTY should have a
couple of near misses, and perhaps we could actually have
him pass one car. At one point we should have a REVERSE
ANGLE on LESTER LOWE'S coupe, featuring two bumper stickers:
ATTEND AND SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL CHURCH and HONK IF YOU LOVE
JESUS!

As the chase goes on it becomes apparent that LOWE is
gaining. MARTY looks increasingly desperate. And now he
looks down at:


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET'S GAS GAUGE, MARTY'S POV

The needle is all the way over on "E."


EXT.  MARTY

He groans. SOUND of the coupe's engine GROWS LOUDER.


EXT.  THE COUPE AND THE SILVER BULLET

LOWE charges, rapidly closing the distance. MARTY swerves
from one side of the road to the other, escaping LOWE for
the moment but almost overturning in the process.

They are now running beside a river- the Auger River, in
fact.


EXT.  THE BULLET'S GAS GAUGE

Now the needle is actually past "E."


EXT.  MARTY

		MARTY
	Come on, baby... come on...

His face registers hope as he sees:


EXT.  ROADSIDE SIGN, MARTY'S POV

AUGER RIVER COVERED BRIDGE 2000 FEET AHEAD AUTOMOBILES
PROHIBITED!


EXT.  MARTY, IN THE BULLET

He twists the throttle as far as it will turn- he's going
for broke. The coupe chases him- and now the Silver Bullet's
motor COUGHS.


EXT.  THE BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

It's pretty ramshackle. A big orange sign beside it reads:
BRIDGE UNSAFE! TRUCKS AND AUTOS ABSOLUTELY PROHIBITED!


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET

MARTY brakes, hits the shoulder of the road, and somehow
makes the turn. We see him holding on for dear life as the
Silver Bullet bounces and jounces down the dirt road to the
mouth of the covered bridge.


EXT.  LOWE'S COUPE

It overshoots the right turn MARTY just took, screeches to a
halt, backs up, and turns onto the lane.


EXT.  THE SILVER BULLET

It bounces up the incline to the bridge, MOTOR COUGHING AND
SPLUTTERING.


EXT.  THE COUPE

It comes to a sliding, dirt-digging stop.


INT.  LOWE, BEHIND THE WHEEL

His face is so full of frustrated hate that it has become
the face of a gargoyle.


EXT.  THE SIGN PROHIBITING MOTOR TRAFFIC, LOWE'S POV


EXT./INT.  THE COVERED BRIDGE, WITH THE BULLET

It's dim and spooky in here. Cracks between the boards of
the side walls allow dusty fingers of daylight to shine
through. More light rays up from the cracks in the floor.
The floorboards are warped and uneven; MARTY'S wheelchair
sways drunkenly from side to side. The total inside passage
is about seventy feet.

About halfway across, the Silver Bullet coughs its last
cough and splutters its last splutter. It rolls along
silently, going on its dying momentum.


EXT.  THE FAR END OF THE BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

Drawing closer. We hear the SOUNDS of boards rumbling under
the Silver Bullet's tires and the Auger River beneath.


EXT.  MARTY, REVERSE

Rolling ever more slowly, the Silver Bullet approaches THE
CAMERA... and stops. MARTY is covered with sweat. His hair
is in a wild tangle. He's panting. He looks at:


EXT.  THE LANE LEADING AWAY FROM THE BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

This is an extremely rustic lane. Pretty, but hardly the
sort of place in which one would want to find oneself when
one has a part-time werewolf and a full-time homicidal
maniac close behind.


EXT.  MARTY, AT THE MOUTH OF THE BRIDGE

		LOWE (soft voice)
	Marty...

MARTY'S head whips around.


EXT.  THE FAR END OF THE BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

We see a brilliant square of light. In it stands LOWE'S
silhouette. The silhouette begins to move. SOUND of
footfalls on the loose floorboards of the covered bridge.


INT.  LOWE'S SHOES

Sensible black Oxfords.

		LOWE
	I'm very sorry about this. I don't know if
	you believe that or not, but it's true. I
	would never willingly hurt a child. You
	should have left me alone, Marty.

SOUND of footfalls resumes.


EXT.  MARTY

He's nearly paralyzed with terror- even if he wasn't, he
wouldn't get far in a powerless Silver Bullet.


INT.  LOWE, IN THE SHADOWS

		LOWE (soft; soothing)
	I can't kill myself, Marty. You see, our
	religion teaches that suicide is the
	greatest sin a man or a woman can commit.
	Stella Randolph was going to commit suicide;
	if she had done so, she would be burning in
	hell right now. By killing her I took her
	physical life but saved her life eternal.
	You see, Marty? You see how all things serve
	the will and the mind of God? You see, you
	meddling little shit!

He begins to walk forward again.


EXT.  LOWE, MARTY'S POV

He's halfway across the bridge now, walking slowly, not
hurrying.

		LOWE
	You're going to have a terrible accident,
	Marty. You're going to fall into the river.

SOUND: TRACTOR ENGINE. LOWE stops, alert to possible danger.


EXT.  MARTY

TRACTOR SOUND IS LOUDER.

MARTY'S face fills with hope. He looks from LOWE toward:


EXT.  THE LANE, MARTY'S POV

THE TRACTOR SOUND gets louder still, and here comes ELMER
ZINNEMAN on a John Deere. The tractor is hauling a manure
spreader which is mostly empty.


EXT.  MARTY

		MARTY (waving madly)
	Mr. Zinneman! Mr. Zinneman!


INT.  THE COVERED BRIDGE, WITH LOWE

He draws back a little, and his face is sharp with animal
cunning- inside his head he's running a four-minute mile.
Stay and try to bluff it out, or beat it?


EXT.  ELMER AND MARTY

ELMER draws the tractor up close to MARTY and swings it
around. MARTY looks back at:


INT.  THE COVERED BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

Empty.

SOUND OF A CAR STARTING, FAINT.


EXT.  MARTY AND ELMER

MARTY looks back at ELMER.

		MARTY
	I ran out of gas.

		ELMER
	Spooky in there, ennit?

		MARTY (with feeling)
	It sure is!

He looks back once more toward:


EXT./INT.  THE COVERED BRIDGE, MARTY'S POV

Brooding, shadowy. CAMERA HOLDS AND WE


			DISSOLVE TO:


EXT.  THE COSLAW BACKYARD  DAY

MARTY is talking to UNCLE AL. JANE is behind them, knocking
croquet balls through the wickets on the back lawn.

MARTY is looking at his Uncle anxiously as JANE strolls
over.

		UNCLE AL
	Well... it's a lot easier to swallow
	without the hair and the foaming jaws.
	Also, I checked on the otic solution.
	It was counter brand. No prescription
	needed.

		MARTY
	I told you!

		UNCLE AL
	Shut up, dear boy- no gloating allowed.

		JANE (sits down)
	Did you talk to the constable?

		UNCLE AL
	After Marty called me with his latest
	Thrilling Tale of Wonder, I did. (Pause)
	He's had no poison-pen complaints lodged
	at all.

		MARTY
	I told you!

		JANE
	Shut up, Marty.

		UNCLE AL (reluctantly)
	There's something else.

	MARTY					JANE
What is it?					What other thing?

		UNCLE AL
	I probably shouldn't tell you- you're
	both hysterical on the subject. I'm
	starting to feel like a guy handing
	out free Arthur Murray coupons to
	victims of the dancing sickness.

		MARTY
	Uncle Al, if you don't tell me-

He makes strangling gestures.

		UNCLE AL (reluctant)
	I went out to that rest area.

		MARTY (triumph)
	You found the tracer?

		UNCLE AL
	No... but I found some blood, smeared on
	a tree trunk in that grove.

		MARTY
	There! You see!

		UNCLE AL
	It could have been anything, Marty.

		MARTY
	What about Father Lowe chasing me in his
	car and trying to run me down? You don't
	think that was a dream, do you?

		UNCLE AL
	No.

UNCLE AL comes over to JANE'S side of the Silver Bullet. He
looks down at:


EXT.  THE FRAME OF THE BULLET

There's a scrape and a dent where LOWE'S coupe dented it.
There is also a fleck of paint.


EXT.  UNCLE AL AND JANE, CU

		UNCLE AL
	Lowe's car-?

		JANE
	Blue. This blue.

		UNCLE AL
	Jesus.


EXT.  THE NIGHT SKY, WITH THE MOON

Three-quarters full.

THE CAMERA PANS DOWN to the Tarker's Mills town hall. UNCLE
AL'S sports car is parked out front.


INT.  THE CONSTABLE'S OFFICE, WITH HALLER AND UNCLE AL

HALLER is behind his desk, rocked back in his chair, hands
laced together behind his head. He's looking at UNCLE AL.
There's a silence that draws out for quite some time. In it,
UNCLE AL becomes steadily more uncomfortable.

		HALLER
	That's just about the craziest damn story
	I've ever heard, Al.

		UNCLE AL
	I know. I could have edited out all of the
	completely crazy stuff, but I thought you
	deserved to hear it with the bark on.

		HALLER
	I appreciate that. Now, the next question:
	Do you believe any of this? You do, don't you?

		UNCLE AL
	Let's just say I believe Lester Lowe should
	be checked out.

HALLER rises.

		HALLER
	That can be arranged.

They shake hands.


EXT.  THE RECTORY  NIGHT

A Chevrolet with TARKER'S MILLS CONSTABLE painted on the
side in gold leaf pulls up. JOE HALLER gets out, and as he
does there's a business of pulling his pants legs down over
his boots- nice stitched cowboy boots, not black cop's
shoes. We want the audience to notice these boots, remember
them- probably HALLER should wear them all through the
picture. He goes up the walk.

HALLER rings the doorbell.

No one comes. HALLER rings the bell again. Waits. No one
comes. He leans down and looks through a side window.


INT.  THE RECTORY HALL AND SITTING ROOM, HALLER'S POV

No one there.


EXT.  HALLER

He goes down the steps, stands on the path for a moment, and
then goes over to the shed-garage. He opens the door and
looks in.


EXT./INT.  THE GARAGE, HALLER'S POV

LOWE'S coupe is in there. There's just room for it amid the
shadowy piles of bottles and cans.


INT.  THE GARAGE, WITH HALLER

He goes around to the front of LOWE'S coupe and squats down.
In the b.g.: a heaped mountain of aluminum beer and soda
cans.

HALLER feels in his breast pocket and brings out a Zippo. He
lights it and looks at:


INT.  THE COUPE, CU

One of the turn-signal lamps is broken. There's a scratch in
the paint and a dent in the bumper. HALLER'S fingers come
into the frame and touch the scratch. They stop, and THE
CAMERA ZOOMS IN to a small streak of silvery paint. As MARTY
has a scrape of blue car paint on his wheelchair, so does
LOWE have a scrape of silver wheelchair paint on his car.


INT.  HALLER

His eyes widen.

SOUND: SHATTERING ROAR and the CLINK AND TUMBLE of about
nine thousand cans as LOWE erupts from under the aluminum
scrap heap behind HALLER. He is a mixture of man and
werewolf, and quite clearly a beastial version of LOWE. In
one hand he holds the remains of OWEN KNOPFLER'S peacemaker.

HALLER starts to turn; LOWE strikes him with the bat. CAMERA
CLOSES IN ON LOWE as the bat rises and falls... rises and
falls. We can't see HALLER, and that is probably a mercy,
but we can hear the THUD of the bat as it strikes again and
again and again.


EXT.  THE REST AREA AT AUGER FALLS, WITH MARTY, AL, JANE
DAY

UNCLE AL has taken the Coslaw family station wagon today.
The three of them are sitting in the grove of trees.

		MARTY
	Mr. Haller said he'd check him out, and
	guess what? No one sees him again!

		UNCLE AL
	And what do you suggest I do about it,
	dear boy?

MARTY slips off his St. Christopher's medallion and hands it
to UNCLE AL.

		MARTY
	I want you to turn this into a silver
	bullet.

		UNCLE AL
	You're not going to let it go, are you?

		MARTY
	I saw what I saw.

		UNCLE AL
	Marty, the moon wasn't even full!

		JANE (quietly)
	In the made-up stories, the guy who's the
	werewolf only changes when the moon is full.
	But maybe he's really that way almost all
	the time, only as the moon gets fuller...

		MARTY (finishes)
	...the guy gets wolfier.

		JANE (hands AL her crucifix)
	Here. Take mine, too.

		MARTY
	Jane... you don't have to do that.

		JANE
	Don't tell me what I have to do and what I
	don't, booger-brains.

		MARTY
	Will you marry me, Jane?

		UNCLE AL
	Would you kids mind telling me how this guy
	Lowe became a werewolf to begin with?

		JANE
	I don't know. Maybe he doesn't know, either.

		MARTY
	No one knows how cancer begins, either- or
	exactly what it is- but people still
	believe in it.

		UNCLE AL
	The kid is eleven years old and already
	he sounds like a Jesuit. A French Jesuit.

		MARTY
	I think he's going to come for me. Not
	just because I know who he is, but
	because I hurt him. Only I don't think
	he'll try again as Lowe.

		UNCLE AL
	Dear boy, you have gone right out of
	your mind.

		MARTY
	Will you do it?

UNCLE AL only looks at him, confused and unsure.


EXT.  A COUNTRY ROAD, WITH THE COSLAW STATION WAGON  DAY

UNCLE AL is taking the kids home- THE CAMERA TRACKS the
wagon for a moment, and then we are looking up the short
lane and into a gravel pit.

THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN, FAST, on the sandy rear wall. We can
see one cowboy boot sticking out of a wall of sand. It's
bloody and chewed.


EXT.  THE COSLAW DRIVEWAY  DAY

The wagon pulls in.


INT.  THE CAR, WITH MARTY, JANE, AND UNCLE AL

		MARTY
	Please, Uncle Al.

		JANE
	Will you?

The St. Cristopher's medal and the crucifix are hanging from
the rearview on a fine silver chain. UNCLE AL takes down the
medal and looks at it.

		UNCLE AL
	All right. I give up. Yes.

  MARTY							JANE
All right! Thanks!				Thank you, Uncle Al!

		UNCLE AL
	If either of you ever tells anyone I even
	bought a piece of this story, werewolves
	will be the least of your problems.


EXT./INT.  SILVER BULLET MONTAGE

a.) UNCLE AL pulls up to a city store front with a sign
reading MAC'S GUNS AND AMMO. He takes out the St.
Cristopher's medal, looks at it, and shakes his head, as if
still ruing his own credulity and stupidity. He goes inside.

		JANE (voice-over)
	Uncle Al's friend Mac was more than a
	gunsmith; he was, Uncle Al said, an
	old-world craftsman, a sort of wizard
	of weapons.

b.) In the gun shop interior, we see UNCLE AL talking to
MAC, who really should look like an elderly white wizard- a
kind of Gandalf figure. In the b.g. window we see a paper
skeleton and paper jack-o'-lanterns: our first clue that All
Hallow's Eve is nearing. UNCLE AL is speaking animatedly,
using his hands a lot; we don't know exactly what the tale
is, but it must be a whopper. In the course of it, he hands
the medal and the crucifix to MAC, who tents the silver
chains over his fingers and looks at them.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	God knows what sort of story my uncle
	told him, but I think that for men who
	have been married as often as Uncle Al,
	invention on short notice becomes
	something of a specialty.

c.) In his workroom, we see MAC spilling boron over the
medal and looking closely at the stain.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	The gunsmith confirmed the high-grade
	silver content of my crucifix and Marty's
	medallion...

d.) In a dim shot which makes MAC look more like a sorcerer
than ever, we see him light an acetylene torch and begin
melting the medal and the crucifix in the crucible. THE
CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY IN as JANE'S contribution and MARTY'S
melt together; they are becoming on and indissoluble.

		JANE (v-o continues)
	...melted them down...

e.) We see MAC pouring molten silver into a bullet mold.

		JANE (v-o concludes)
	...and molded them into a silver bullet.


INT.  MAC'S GUN SHOP, WITH MAC AND UNCLE AL  DAY

MAC comes out of the back with a small inlaid wooden box. He
puts it down on the glass counter top.

		MAC
	Here it is.


INT.  THE BOX, CU

MAC'S hands open it, disclosing a single bullet resting on
dark velvet plush. It is a .22 short round, and it gleams a
pure silver. It would be great to hype this bullet
optically- not much, just a little- to make it look
absolutely magical. Almost holy.


INT.  MAC AND UNCLE AL

UNCLE AL picks up the bullet almost reverently, holds it to
the light.

		MAC
	Nicest piece of work I ever did, I think.
	It's got a low-grain load so it won't
	tumble. Should be pretty accurate.

		UNCLE AL
	It's just a gag, that's all. What would
	you shoot a silver .22 bullet at, anyway?

		MAC (joking)
	How about a werewolf? (Pause) Happy
	Halloween, Al.


EXT.  THE FULL MOON, CLOSE  NIGHT

It nearly fills the screen, swimming mysteriously in the
warm summer air.

		JANE (voice-over)
	By the time Marty's silver bullet was done,
	it was Halloween... and the full moon had
	come around again. Earlier that afternoon,
	my grandfather, who had been dying of cancer
	for over seven years, finally finished the job.

THE CAMERA PANS DOWN to the COSLAW house. There's a carved
jack in the window and a corsage of Indian corn on the door.
UNCLE AL'S MG is in the driveway. The COSLAW station wagon
is just backing out. UNCLE AL and JANE stand in the doorway;
MARTY is slightly behind them in the Silver Bullet.

NAN leans out of the car. She's wearing black, and she has
obviously been crying.

		NAN
	Remember, Al... we'll be at the Ritz-Carlton
	in Boston tomorrow night! Or at the funeral
	parlor. It's Stickney and-

		UNCLE AL
	-and Babcock, I remember. Now go on!

The station wagon backs farther and NAN leans out again.

		NAN
	And don't open the door for any trick or
	treaters even if they come!

		UNCLE AL
	We won't!

The station wagon backs out into the road and NAN pops out
again.

		NAN
	You kids go to bed on time! You've got
	school tomorrow!

		UNCLE AL
	If you keep doing that, you're going to
	bump your head, sissy. Give my love to Mama-
	tell her I'll see her Thursday.

		NAN
	I will- be good, kids.

  MARTY							JANE
'Bye, mom! Bye, dad!				We will! 'Bye!

The station wagon accelerates away.

		UNCLE AL
	Can I tell you kids something?

		JANE
	Sure, Uncle Al.

		UNCLE AL
	When me and sissy were kids, we were
	just like you two.

		MARTY
	Yeah? Really?

		UNCLE AL
	Yeah. Really. The bitch of it is, we still
	are. Learn from your elders, dearies.

He ushers them inside and closes the door.


INT.  THE STATION WAGON, WITH BOB AND NAN

		BOB
	I can't believe that you'd agree to leave
	the kids with him. A year ago I would have
	laughed at the idea. You used to almost
	breathe fire when Al came in the house.

		NAN
	He's changed. Just this summer. Or
	something's changed him. Marty, maybe.
	And the drinking- I think it's almost
	stopped. Whatever it is, it's wonderful.
	And they'll be safe with him. I'm sure
	of it.

		BOB
	I know they'll be safe with him... but will
	he get them both into bed by nine-thirty?

		NAN (firmly)
	If I told him to, he will.


INT.  THE WALL CLOCK IN THE COSLAW LIVING ROOM  NIGHT

It reads 1:00.

SOUND: The National Anthem.


INT.  THE TV, CU

The anthem finishes up. We go to a station ID card.

		ANNOUNCER'S VOICE
	This concludes WDML's broadcast day.

The TV goes to snow.


INT.  JANE ON THE COUCH

She's mostly asleep in one corner.


INT.  MARTY, IN THE SILVER BULLET

He's also dozing.


INT.  UNCLE AL, IN BOB'S EASY CHAIR IN FRONT OF THE TV

He is also dozing. There are three or four empty beer cans
in front of him, and a cigarette with a long ash is
smoldering between his fingers. There's a .22 pistol in his
lap.


EXT.  THE COSLAW HOUSE, FROM ONE SIDE

The WEREWOLF breaks from the woods and runs across the side
yard to a line of high bushes that runs along the side of
the house (this is the opposite side from MARTY'S bedroom).


EXT.  IN THE BUSHES, WITH THE WEREWOLF

There is a space in here between the house and the bushes-
it's like an animal's run. The WEREWOLF creeps along this,
its one eye flaring.

DIM SOUND OF TV SNOW.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH MARTY, JANE, AND UNCLE AL

UNCLE AL jumps up and cries out as the cigarette burns up to
his fingers. The .22 falls onto the rug.

MARTY and JANE also wake up, startled.


EXT.  IN THE BUSHES, WITH THE WEREWOLF

It recoils, eyes gleaming. Foam begins to drip from its
jaws. It creeps slowly along toward a window. TV SNOW SOUNDS
GROW LOUDER.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH AL, JANE, MARTY

UNCLE AL is shaking his burned hand; he picks the cigarette
out of his lap and puts it out.

		JANE (sleepy)
	You'll burn yourself up sometime doing
	that, Uncle Al.

		UNCLE AL
	I suppose so. You kids ought to go up to bed.

		MARTY
	But Uncle Al! You said-

		UNCLE AL
	I know what I said, Marty- but it's ten
	past one. He's not coming.

		JANE
	The moon's not down yet...

		UNCLE AL
	Damn near. Now I'll sit up with this
	stupid gun in my lap because I promised,
	but you two are going to bed. Go on,
	now, scoot.

JANE gets up and starts toward the stairs.

		MARTY
	What if I say no?

		UNCLE AL
	Then I'd have to kick your ass, dear boy.
	(more kindly) Go on, now.

MARTY begins to roll the Silver Bullet toward the stairs,
where the stair chair awaits. JANE is waiting for him at the
living-room doorway. MARTY sees the gun on the floor and
stops.

		MARTY
	If that'd gone off, it would have been the
	end of our silver bullet.


INT.  UNCLE AL

He prickles a bit at the unstated criticism. He bends down
and picks up the pistol. He opens the cylinder. Five
chambers are empty; in one there's a bright silver circle.


INT.  UNCLE AL

He pushes the cylinder plunger, dropping the silver bullet
into his hand.

		UNCLE AL
	See, dear boy? Totally unimpaired.

Behind him, the WEREWOLF'S head appears in the window, its
green eye flaring.


INT.  BY THE LIVING ROOM DOORWAY, WITH MARTY AND JANE

MARTY, looking toward UNCLE AL, sees nothing. JANE is
looking toward the window and she SCREAMS.

		JANE (shrieking)
	It's him! It's the werewolf! I see him!
	IT'S THE WEREWOLF!

She's pointing at the window.


INT.  UNCLE AL

He jumps up and looks around at the window- at this point AL
has the .22 with its cylinder open in one hand and the
silver bullet loosely held in the other.

Nothing in the window but darkness. UNCLE AL turns back to
the kids.

		UNCLE AL (sharply)
	You see it, Marty!


INT.  MARTY

		MARTY (shakes his head)
	I was looking at you...


INT.  UNCLE AL

His shoulders slump a little with relief- now that the scare
is over, his relief is tempered with irritation. They're
just a couple of hysterical kids after all, and JANE is
actually worse than MARTY. Polly Practical indeed!

		UNCLE AL
	A very familiar feeling is beginning to
	creep over me.


INT.  MARTY AND JANE, BY THE DOORWAY

JANE is crying.

		MARTY
	What's that, Uncle Al?


INT.  UNCLE AL

		UNCLE AL
	I feel like a horse's ass.


INT.  MARTY AND JANE, BY THE DOORWAY

		JANE (weeping)
	I saw it, Uncle Al! I did!

MARTY rolls a little closer to her and attempts to put a
comforting arm around her shoulder.

		JANE
	Don't you touch me, snotbrains!

		MARTY
	Jane-


INT.  UNCLE AL

		UNCLE AL
	Would you kids go to bed? My head's
	starting to ache.


EXT.  THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE, ECU

We see a clawed, hairy hand reach into the frame and close
around a thick wire.

		WEREWOLF (voice)
	Reeeal slow...

It yanks.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WIDE

The lights go out.

JANE SHRIEKS.

		MARTY
	It's here! It's outside!


INT.  UNCLE AL

		UNCLE AL
	Jane, it's just a power fai-

He's starting toward her. At that moment most of the wall-
not just the window it was looking through before but the
whole wall- crashes inward as the WEREWOLF bulls its way
through, roaring.

UNCLE AL whirls, raising the pistol automatically to fire-
but the cylinder is rolled out and all the chambers are
empty. He has time to register surprise before the WEREWOLF
smashes him aside.


INT.  UNCLE AL, A NEW ANGLE

He goes flying backward. The pistol goes one way, the silver
bullet another.


INT.  THE GUN

It spins into a living-room corner.


INT.  THE SILVER BULLET, SLOW MOTION

We see it rise in the air, turning over and over. It comes
down, hits the floor, and rolls.


INT.  THE HALLWAY FLOOR, WITH THE BULLET, SLOW MOTION

In the extreme f.g. is a heating vent. The bullet is rolling
toward it.


INT.  MARTY AND JANE

		MARTY
	Get the gun!

He uses his hands to propel the ungainly Silver Bullet into
the hall.


INT.  THE BULLET (THE REAL BULLET) AND MARTY, SLOW MOTION

The silver bullet rolls slowly toward the heating vent. In
the b.g. we see a frantic MARTY in his wheelchair.

He heaves himself out of it and falls full-length, grabbing.

His fingers touch the bullet, but that's all. It falls in
the heating vent.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

It's roaring, furious, its one eye flaring.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WIDE

UNCLE AL lies senseless against one wall, the front of his
shirt bloody. JANE runs into the corner and grabs the
pistol.

The WEREWOLF picks up the easy chair and throws it through
the hole it made coming in. It picks up an end table and
hurls it through the TV. Then it sees JANE and starts toward
her.


INT.  JANE, COWERING IN THE CORNER


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

Comes toward her.


INT.  JANE IN THE CORNER

She makes as if to run one way.


INT.  JANE AND THE WEREWOLF

It's only a couple of feet from her now, but again, it is
toying with her- it's making this reeeal slow.


INT.  THE FIREPLACE TOOLS, CU

A bloodstained hand grabs a poker.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF AND JANE

As it tenses down to leap at her, UNCLE AL leaps at it and
strikes it across the back. It turns, ROARING.

UNCLE AL hits it between the legs.

It BELLOWS and grabs the poker. It bends it and tosses it
aside. The glaring, savage expression on its face says that
now it will bend UNCLE AL and toss him aside.


INT.  JANE

She breaks out of the corner and runs across the room toward
the door. Most of the way there she trips and falls.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

Its head whips around.


INT.  MARTY, IN THE HALL

He's lying full-length. He's got the heater vent's grille
off. One arm is down inside.

		MARTY (scream)
	Janey! The gun! THE GUN!


INT.  JANE

She tosses it awkwardly.


INT.  THE GUN, SLOW MOTION

It slides down the hall floor to MARTY like some strange,
awkward shuffleboard disc, its cylinder still open.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF

		WEREWOLF (snarls)
	Maa-aaa-rty...

It begins walking slowly across the living room, smashing
things out of its way.


INT.  MARTY, IN THE HALL

The gun slides into his hand. Now he reaches into the
heating duct again...


INT.  IN THE HEATING DUCT, ECU

There's an elbow bend just below MARTY'S twisting, grasping
fingers- the silver bullet lies here. It's less than half an
inch out of reach.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

		WEREWOLF (foaming)
	Maaa-aaa-rty...


INT.  JANE, ON THE FLOOR

		JANE (sobbing)
	Don't you hurt him! Don't you hurt my brother!

She bites one of the WEREWOLF'S hairy ankles as it passes.


INT.  JANE AND THE WEREWOLF

It roars with pain and kicks her aside. Then it looks back
into the hall. It is grinning. I believe it is thinking this
is going to be better than a Thanksgiving dinner you don't
have to pay for.

		WEREWOLF
	Reeeal slow, Maa-aaarty-


INT.  MARTY, CU

He's reaching desperately into the duct and staring at the
approaching WEREWOLF.


INT.  IN THE HEATING DUCT, ECU

MARTY'S fingers brush the bullet once... again... seize it.


INT.  MARTY, IN THE HALL

He rolls over on his back and sticks the silver bullet
blindly into one chamber of the cylinder and slams the
cylinder closed.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

		WEREWOLF
	Bastard Marty!


INT.  MARTY

He points the gun and pulls the trigger. There's only a
click. An expression of dismay on his face.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, CU

		WEREWOLF
	Kill you...


INT.  MARTY

He drags himself so he's half propped against the hall wall.
He pulls the trigger again. Click! Dismay becomes fear.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF

It's reached the Silver Bullet. It smashes it aside. The
Bullet hits the wall.


INT.  MARTY

Holding the gun in both hands now, he pulls the trigger a
third time. Click!

The WEREWOLF'S shadow falls over him.


INT.  WEREWOLF, ECU

		WEREWOLF
	Bastard Marty!

It bends down, reaching.


INT.  MARTY, ECU

Craning back as if to drive himself into the wall, he pulls
the trigger again.


INT.  THE BARREL OF THE .22 MAXI-CLOSE

The bullet flies from the barrel, gleaming silver.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF

The silver bullet strikes him in his one remaining eye. He
flies backward, hands clapped to his gushing face... and
crashes into MARTY'S Silver Bullet wheelchair. It sits
there, roaring... and then it begins to change.


INT.  THE LIVING ROOM, WITH JANE

She lies there, sobbing.

		UNCLE AL (voice)
	You okay, Janey?


INT.  UNCLE AL AND JANE

UNCLE AL is bloody and staggering but on his feet. He helps
JANE up.

		JANE
	I'm all right... but Marty! Ma-

SOUND: SHATTERING ROAR.


INT.  THE WEREWOLF, ECU

Its hands drop from its face. It is now blind in both eyes;
it is half WEREWOLF and half LOWE.

It BELLOWS again, convulses... and dies.


INT.  MARTY, ON THE FLOOR

		MARTY (calls)
	I'm all right. He's dead.


INT.  UNCLE AL AND JANE

Here's a creature that is mostly FATHER LOWE collapsed in
the remains of MARTY'S wheelchair; beyond it, MARTY is lying
on the floor. UNCLE AL goes by the corpse. JANE starts by...
and LOWE sits bolt upright for a moment, grasping blindly at
her.

She shrieks and darts aside. LOWE falls back, now really
dead. I think. Until the sequel.


INT.  THE HALL, WITH UNCLE AL, JANE, AND MARTY

UNCLE AL puts a comforting arm around JANE, who is sobbing
again- hell, I'd be sobbing after that last one, myself- and
draws her down beside himself and MARTY.

		UNCLE AL (to MARTY)
	There. I told you there weren't any such
	things as werewolves.

They smile at each other with love.

		JANE (nervous)
	Are you sure it's dead? Or him? Or
	whatever it is?

		UNCLE AL
	If it isn't now, it will be after I pound
	one of your mother's silver candlesticks
	through its heart.

		JANE (grimaces)
	Oh Uncle Al, no!

		UNCLE AL (grim)
	Oh yes, Janey. When I believe something, I
	believe it all the way.

He gets up and leaves.

		JANE
	Are you all right, Marty?

		MARTY
	All except my legs... I don't think I can walk.

		JANE
	You're a real booger, you know it?

		MARTY (smiles)
	I love you, Jane.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS, LONG  NIGHT

Quiet. Sleeping.

		JANE (voice-over)
	It wasn't always easy for me to answer
	that... but I could answer it that night,
	and I find I can say it now that the
	terrible events of that fall have receded
	to memories which seem little more than
	dreams in my mind.


INT.  THE HALLWAY, WITH MARTY AND JANE

		JANE (hugging him)
	I love you, Marty.


EXT.  TARKER'S MILLS, LONG

		JANE (voice-over; no more than a whisper)
	I love you, Marty... good night.

THE CAMERA PANS UP to the full moon.

					FADE OUT.