On May 9, 3:06 am, ichorwhip <ichorw...@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> wrote:
>
> You really are cracked! And "the other" doesn't even seem to know it
> apparently. This is one of the wierdest things I've seen on Usenet
> yet! A total mental breakdown and personality fissure right before
> our glazzies...
>
INT. THE TWO BILLS BEDROOM. DAY.
BILL NORMAN WEED:
(from within the bedroom--both voices barely audible at first) Well,
Mother, I--I'm gonna bring something up...
BILL MOTHER WEED:
I am sorry boy, but you do manage to look ludicrous when you give
orders.
BILL NORMAN WEED:
Please, Mother!
BILL MOTHER WEED:
No! I will not hide in the fruit cellar. Ha! You think I'm fruity,
huh? I'm staying right here. This is my newsgroup and no one will drag
me out of it--least of all my big, bold son!
BILL NORMAN WEED:
Now come now, Mother! They came after you did the buffy nymphet girl
and now someone will come after the other one! Mother, please! It's
just for a few days. Just for a few days so they won't find you.
BILL MOTHER WEED:
(mocking) 'Just for a few days!' --In that dark, dank fruit cellar!
No! You hid me there once, boy, and you won't do it again. Not ever
again! Now get out! (pause, then quietly, ominously) I told you to get
out, boy.
BILL NORMAN WEED:
I'll carry you, Mother.
BILL MOTHER WEED:
Norman! What do you think you're doing! Don't you touch me! Don't!
(From overhead we watch Norman carry a frail body out of the bedroom
and down the stairs.) Norman! Put me down! Put me down! I can walk on
my own!
INT. CORRECTIONAL FACILITY. DAY.
BILL MOTHER WEED'S VOICE:
It's sad when a mother has to speak the words that condemn her own
son.
But I couldn't allow them to believe that I would commit crimes, that
I am a crook. They'll put him away now as I should have years ago. He
was always bad, and in the end he intended to tell them I got my
scrumpy from that buffy girl and siphoned off those video-production
budgets and trolled all those Usenet newsgroups.
As if I could do anything except just sit and stare--like one of his
stuffed buffy birds. Well, they know I can't move a finger. And I
won't. I'll just sit here and be quiet, just in case they do suspect
me.
They're probably watching me. Well, let them. Let them see what kind
of proud, superior human being I am.
(A fly has landed upon his hand, which rests in his lap).
I'm not even going to swat that fly. I hope they are watching. They'll
see. They'll see, and they'll know, and they'll say... (as he slowly
raises his eyes to meet ours, smirking) 'Why, she wouldn't even harm a
fly!'
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