EPISODE 1: Calling All Goths
CHEERFUL
VIDEO NARRATOR [voiceover]: Welcome to the Hamilton College Bicentennial
Prospective Students Video Tour! Here we have the Special Collections room in
Hamilton College's Burke Library. It is a very bright, cheerful place - a great
place to work on campus! Look at the old pamphlets, newspapers, and books
strewn haphazardly over every available surface, creating a cheerful clutter.
See the tools of the trade scattered cheerfully amongst the chaos; there are
scissors, labels, a paper-cutter, and boxes upon boxes of mylar sheaths, to
name a few.
[Shot
of room, showing items specified as they are described by the NARRATOR.]
(NEW)
NARRATOR [voiceover]: But hidden amongst the cheerful office supplies and rare
materials, something nefarious lies in wait. A small book − entirely
unprepossessing, just dropped off with some other things.
[Zoom
in on the book. Slow, ominous version of opening strains of Beethoven's 5th
Symphony in the background.]
And
here
is Sophie, our heroine. [Zoom out to show SOPHIE.] A perfectly normal
student worker, average amount of cheerfulness, assigned to using the
paper-cutter. And there, she reaches for the small book in her way.
[SOPHIE
reaches for book.] She doesn't know that lurking between the pages is
the ghost
of none other than . . . [SOPHIE touches book, switch to shot of AL
HAM] Alexander
Hamilton-turned-raging-homicidal-maniac-due-to-the-decline-of-Federalism-and-being-stuck-in-a-paperback-for-200-odd-years-not-to-mention-that-idiot-Burr!!!
[In
aside manner] (That's me, by the way. Look, I'm out!)
AL
HAM: Free! Free from that dreadful little book!
SOPHIE
: Wha- Bu- Y-
AL HAM
[notices the paper-cutter, eyes gleaming]: Yes! The perfect instrument to wreak
my revenge.
[He
goes over to it and strokes the handle.]
SOPHIE
[haltingly]: Who - are you?
AL
HAM: Alexander Hamilton, at your service. Wait - Aren't you a student at this
infernal school?
SOPHIE:
Yes... Are you mad about something? I mean, this is kind of your school, you
know.
AL
HAM: You're one of them! Ungrateful little statue-besmirchers! [Sarcastically]
Oooh, Bon Jovi. Oooh, a chandelier in a tent. [Switches to indignant] Did
anyone even pay attention to the fact that this was the 200th anniversary of
the start of the school named in my honor? Did they?
[Shot
of SOPHIE looking ironically at the Bicentennial display of Hamilton College
artifacts.]
AL
HAM: You, girl, shall be the first to fall to my wrath as I destroy this school
and its ridiculous orange-throwing customs. [Begins crazy-muttering while
stroking the paper-cutter.] I don't even like oranges! If it were apples, that
would be one thing. But oranges! Ridiculous...
SOPHIE:
Dude. [AL HAM looks up from his rant.] You need to calm down. You just came out
of a freaking paperback. I mean, come on!
[AL HAM
glares at her murderously.]
[Either
Psycho movie music plays or Beethoven's 5th opening strains play again; zoom in
on AL HAM
holding
paper-cutter open.]
AL HAM
NARRATOR [spooky voice-over while still zooming in on AL HAM with music in
background]: Non-cheerfulness ensues.
***
AL HAM
NARRATOR: [Camera shot of AL HAM ghost looking a little bloody outside of
library.] Well now that that’s done with, I thought I’d make a Bicentennial
Admissions Video to appeal to a different body of perspective applicants: the
beloved goths. Why don’t we start this journey in an unsuspecting place - the
Bristol Pool. All you goths out there may think this is just a place for jocks
and prepsters but you’ll soon see the real dark side of Hamilton College.
Follow me! [AL HAM zings off in a whir because he is a ghost and the Camera
moves to a shot of the pool.]
ABBY
and TINA are by the stands in the Bristol Pool. They are completely alone in
the facility; they are dressed in swimsuits, gym shorts, and flip-flops. Both
are carrying towels and goggles. [Camera is focused on a semi-close up frame of
them.]
ABBY:
Where is everybody?
[ABBY
asks TINA, who appears to be “spaced out” – she is statue still and has a blank
expression. The question goes unanswered for a few moments until TINA shakes
her head and zones back into reality.]
TINA
[Unconcerned tone]: Huh? Oh. I don’t know. I’m sure they are just talking in
the boy’s locker room.
ABBY:
You’re probably right. But this place is kind of creepy when it’s empty. Like,
where is the lifeguard?
[Camera
pans out to show the entire pool setting around them, which is unnaturally
grey. In the water is the lifeguard’s long red floatation device, which reads
“RESCUE ME” in white block letters. The camera switches to lower stage right at
the slamming of a metal locker room door, which is slightly below the level of
the pool deck.]
The
DANS enter from a downstairs entrance of the boy’s locker room. The rest of the
team follows behind them through the same door. All the boys are in matching
water polo pants and jackets.
DANNY
wipes his mouth with the back of his paw-sized hand before reaching where ABBY
and
TINA
are standing.
ABBY: I thought practice started at four.
[The
three brothers walk in step past ABBY when she addresses them. They respond in
monotone voices one after the other without looking back at her on their way to
the middle of the pool deck.]
DAN:
It does.
DANIEL:
We were hungry.
DANNY:
Pre-practice snack.
ABBY
(To Self): Whatever happened to the one-hour digestion rule?
DANIEL:
Okay guys, can everyone gather around for a pre-practice meeting?
The entire team
moves to where the DANs are standing and forms a loose semi-circle, ABBY and
TINA are at the middle point of this gathering.
DAN:
On behalf of the three of us, I’d like to say that this year is shaping up to
be one of the most...[he pauses to think of the word] fruitful seasons yet.
DANNY:
All of us admire the thirst and hunger you’ve displayed.
DANIEL:
In the pool…
DAN:
As a Club sport, this team is voluntary. As such, do all new members agree to
participate at their own will?
[ABBY
nods, but does not look around to see that she is the only one nodding.]
DANNY:
Good. I’m going to let our sister, and real captain, say a few words.
TINA
is at the podium. She is also now wearing the matching water polo jacket and
pants. Her look is
darker,
and she is suddenly wearing heavy makeup.
[ABBY
is confused – TINA had be standing next to her only a second ago.]
TINA:
I don’t have much to say, except that I think what sets this team apart is that
we slaughter the competition. Let the initiation of new members commence!
The
entire team smiles at ABBY, revealing their fanged teeth. Blackout.
***
AL HAM NARRATOR: [Waving to the
Water Polo team] Good luck this season! Make me proud! [talking to the camera]
Ah, those look like some fine Hamilton students. They are truly the epitome of
scholar-athletes. What about the football team, how have they been doing…
[DYLAN and SAM are in their dorm room watching their coach being
interviewed about the season. Zoom on the interview of the COACH]
REPORTER: For the past three
seasons, Dylan has been the star of the Hamilton College football team. He was
rookie of the year as a freshman and has been all-league ever since. One more
touchdown and he will be Hamilton’s all time point’s leader. Do you think Dylan
has what it take to finally be the player of the year?
[COACH pauses for a while, just as
he begins to speak DYLAN turns off the TV screen.]
SAM: Don’t let that bother you man.
You’ll shake off the rust. It’s Just a matter of a time.
DYLAN: It has been long enough Sam.
I shouldn’t be playing this badly. Maybe it is because I am tired all the time.
I don’t think I have told you, but I have had some sleeping problems recently.
Every night I have some of the craziest dreams you could ever imagine and when
I wake up, I feel like I didn’t slept a wink. That is why I am always so tired
for practice. It is as if someone is taking all of my energy in the middle of
the night.
SAM: [long pause] What do you think
it is?
DYLAN: Honestly, I have no idea but
there is something that has been bugging me for a while. [Thinks about telling
Sam] Never mind, you’re going to think I am crazy.
SAM. Try me…
DYLAN: So it started when we met.
SAM: When who met? What happened?
DYLAN: Stop interrupting.
[Flashback] It was after the team’s first practice…
[Close on DYLAN and ARNOLD as they
walk from the practice field.]
ARNOLD: [Pats Dylan on the back.]
Hey Dylan, good stuff out there today.
DYLAN: [Smiling at the compliment]
Thanks man, you too. You really handled yourself well. I know the first
practice can be intense for some freshmen.
ARNOLD: Yeah, especially when
someone as good as you is playing the same position.
DYLAN: I appreciate that. I feel
pretty good. I have been working towards this for a while. Hopefully I will
finally win player of the year. [Crossing his fingers as he says it]
ARNOLD: That would be great. I’d
really like it if you came by my room sometime so we you can go over the
playbook with me. [Another pat on the back. ARNOLD keeps his hand there and
concentrates on DYLAN’s neck longingly…as if to want to bite it!]
DYLAN: [Notices ARNOLD’s stare and
moves from under ARNOLD’s grasp.] No problem, where do you live?
ARNOLD: Dark side single, Minor 312.
DYLAN: OK, shower up and I’ll see
you tomorrow.
ARNOLD: You too. Watch out though. I
hope you know that I am gunning for your spot. [Jokingly]
DYLAN: Of course you are, but trust
me; I won’t lose much sleep over it. [laughs with ARNOLD]
ARNOLD: [mumbles as DYLAN walks
away] I wouldn’t be so sure about that! [ARNOLD’s fangs pop out]
[End flash back. Close on DYLAN and
SAM in dorm. SAM looks terrified.]
AL HAM NARRATOR: Looks like the Dark
Side has gotten even darker over the years!
[He is about to say something when a flying newspaper hits him in the
face] What is this…
***
[It’s
a Wednesday night, and members of The Spectator staff bustle about the
office. Some of the section editors munch on Mexican take-out while they try to
decipher red ink marks that skew ominously across the pages.]
[ALLISON
(Editor-in-Chief) sits huddled in her office, slashing away with her pen.]
ALLISON:
[Maniacally] Aha! Take that, Oxford comma! Take that, misplaced modifier! [Now
more subdued but still intense] The blood red ink from my pen will poison and
destroy you!
[She
punctures the paper in feverish excitement.] Woah…what’s come over me? Maybe I’ve been staring at the computer too
long. [Contemplatively] Mind becomes one with machine…actions penetrate words…
[Some
time passes. It’s around 1 a.m.; as the section editors take their leave,
Allison and her Managing Editor, KATE, are serene as they unthinkingly delete
pixels on Photoshop.]
KATE:
Are my eyes bloodshot? They must be…I feel like a zombie.
ALLISON:
[A little too surprised] Wait – you too?! Whew, I thought I was the only one
turning into an eerie editorial beast.
KATE:
Uh…well, I didn’t mean –
[Ominous
rattling] ALLISON: [Alarmed] What was that?
KATE:
[Shivers] That weird clangy noise? I don’t know…but I don’t like it.
ALLISON:
Sounds like it’s coming from the fridge. [Both of their faces scrunch up in
disgust. They look toward the rank fridge.]
KATE:
[A little frightened, voice quakes] You know, we’re journalists…but do we
always have to investigate everything? Let’s just leave it alone and get back
to work.
ALLISON:
Okay, I’ll try to ignore it. It’s just that – coming from near the archives and
all – it’s as if it’s signaling the return of the Spectators of
Wednesdays past! [She clutches the red pen and presses it deep into her skin.]
KATE:
You mean like Hamilton’s demons are coming back to haunt us? [Cue excerpt of
“Night on Bald Mountain” by Modest Moussorgsky; lights flicker and window shades fly up
inexplicably. The girls shriek, and ALLISON turns to KATE.]
ALLISON:
[Eyes struck with shock, speaks slowly and calculatingly] Kate, I’ve had a
weird feeling all night – maybe you should leave. Something’s overtaking me.
KATE:
Disillusionment? Cynicism? Journalists’ lifeblood, you know.
ALLISON:
[Looks at KATE, defeated] No. Something much darker.
[KATE
leaves. As ALLISON walks home by herself in the dead of night, the wind causes
the extra newspapers she’s carrying to fly in her face so she cannot see. She
tumbles to the ground, disoriented; it’s only when she opens her eyes that she
realizes: all of the issues she was holding are gone. She walks home, with the
weight of looming terror still on her shoulders.]
***
[A
dark night at Hamilton College, with the campus blanketed by moonlight. The
grounds appear deserted, except for one lone student walking through the
pouring rain towards Beinecke.]
AL HAM NARRATOR
[voice-over during walking scene]: Work isn’t the only thing that makes Hamilton
students occasionally go bonkers. And I’m not just talking about my satanic
influence either. Rumor has it that Bon Appetit actually pumps all sorts of
weird chemicals into the food. How else do explain the flavors of their food,
which seem to run the gamut from food poisoning to chemical dependency. Don’t
believe me? Just check-out at this kid...
[The student
enters the outer-Diner portion of Beineckie. Rachmaninoff’s haunting Prelude in
C sharp minor plays faintly in the background.The Diner’s grate is down,
blocking the entrance, and the lights are off inside.]
SOAKED MALE
STUDENT [seeing the lowered grate and running towards it]: NOoooooooo! How
could I oversleep!?! I need DINER! [yelled in a manner reminiscent
of Marlo Brando’s famous Stella-cry. Simultaneously the student frantically
shakes the metal grate, creating an awful racket.] Diner! Diner! Diner!
[He turns away
dejectedly from the grate. Soaked, hungry, and shivering, the student’s face
might be at that moment the saddest in the world.Suddenly his face shifts into
a look of confusion. He walks tentatively over to the windows looking out over
ELS and Martin’s Way. There, sitting on the windowsill, is a Diner plate of
grilled cheese and french-fries. He looks around in confusion, but then slowly
reaches his hand out towards the plate. It’s still lukewarm to the touch,
perhaps because the plate is resting on a vent. Still, it’s clearly more than a
few minutes old.]
STUDENT
[groans.]: Grilled cheese and French-fries? My meal. Who would just leave
this out?
[He
grabs the plate, tucks it in close as if to start devouring it, but instead
turns sharply on his heel and heads toward the nearest trash can. He extends
his arm to throw out the offending plate…]
STUDENT
[clearly verbalizing inner turmoil]: Wait. Why waste this food?
STUDENT
[his level-headed persona]: Don’t be ridiculous, this food might be hours
old and eating it would be gross. Someone probably touched it! Lots of people!
It could be poisoned!
STUDENT
[crazed, starved persona]: [Indignantly] Poisioned? [Curtly] Don’t be
a drama queen.
[whiningly]
It’s such a waste! [now indignantly] And I’m hungry- and it’s my
exact order! [whispered] Maybe the Diner workers noticed I didn’t come
tonight like usual and left out a plate for me? [exultantly] Yeah!
STUDENT
[sane-half]: Like for a cat!?! Or Santa Claus?
STUDENT
[crazy-half]: [Sulkily] But I like cats… [With resolve] Screw it!
[He begins shoving the grilled cheese in his mouth. At the same time, he walks
over to the long table resting by the windows and plops himself on top. He
continues to eat the food aggressively. Soon it’s gone.]
STUDENT:
Ugh. I feel sick. [he lifts his legs onto the table and lays across it
as if to take a nap.] How could I be so stupid? Look at my life, look at my
choices. [The last part is uttered with decreasing volume as he clearly
slips off into a morose food-coma.]
[Fade
into blackness.]
[From
the perspective of the student’s eyes, the scene is slowly lighted as the
student’s eyes open]
STUDENT:
Ugh!!!!
[It’s
still clearly night- the student must have only fallen asleep for a few minutes
or hours.]
[Through
the student’s eyes, we see him clumsily roll off the table where he fell
asleep. He walks outside and across the Bridge towards the Dark Side of campus.
The entire time he moves sluggishly, breathes heavily, and mutters groggily. He
sees no one as he returns to his room. He opens the door to his room, fumbles
in the darkness for his toothbrush, and crosses the hall into the bathroom. He
turns on the lights and looks into the mirror….]
STUDENT: Aaargghh!!!!!
[With horror. The student has been transfigured into a zombie.]
[Blackout to...]
[The
Diner-eating student’s head darts up from a table strewn with books and papers
where he was clearly studying before he fell asleep]
STUDENT
[feverishly]: God, I need to lay off the Diner.
***
[THIRD
FLOOR COMMON ROOM OF ROOT - NIGHT
It’s a
typical autumn night with clear skies and a chill wind flowing around the
buildings. The windows of the
third-floor common room are dark. The
blueish light of a television screen can be seen shimmering through a corner of
the blackness. The darkness obscures the
worn dung-colored carpet covering the floor and hides the dilapidated
sofas. The large picture-windows, which
dominate the common room’s right wall, allow the splendor of the stars and the
stark coldness of the full moon to shine through. This eerie white light illuminates the faces
of the people sitting in the common room, making them appear pale and otherworldly.]
AL
HAM
NARRATOR [voiceover]: Well, now that you know how hard our dining
facilities
work to cater to student needs and ensure they get in the proper Gothic
spirit,
let’s move on to our wonderful housing facilities. You’ll truly feel at
home here, where even
the most innocent activities have a sinister purpose and even hanging
out with
your friends can turn . . . deadly.
Although most Hamiltonians assume that nothing exciting happens in Root,
as our finest sub-free dorm, they couldn’t be more wrong. Here’s a
perfect example. At first glance, the group of four women and
one man sitting on the dilapidated couches surrounding the television
appear to
be normal college students. They are
eating pancakes and cheesecake brownies, watching an animated Disney
movie, and
talking and laughing. But wait . . .
[The
opening strains of “Hellfire” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame play]
MARY(FIRE):
Oh my God!!!!! “Hellfire” is such an
intense song! [she stands to sing along]
[The
rest of the group laughs, except for BARTHOLOMEW, who looks solemn.]
BARTHOLOMEW:
The intensity and darkness of this song make it a perfect time to try the
ritual. After all, Fire, the song is all
about your element, so this memory will be particularly potent for you. It will draw out your natural magic and allow
you to preserve the memory of your presence easily. The rest of you must help her.
SUE
(EARTH), ELIZABETH (WIND), and REBECCA (AIR) [looking scared]: Are you sure
we’re ready Master? You haven’t even
taught us the necessary spells yet?
BARTHOLOMEW:
That
is true, but you have the magic and strength within you. All you have
to do is tap into it. I will teach you the words, and they will
show you the way. Do you thirst for
immortality, Fire?
MARY
(FIRE) [in a strangely formal tone]: Yes.
I crave it like a vampire craves blood.
[She takes deep breath, and her face becomes hard and inhuman.]
BARTHOLOMEW
[in
a tone of comfortable formality]: Very well, I will now share the spell
with you. Listen carefully, and then join
me when you have the pronunciation and the rhythm down. The
pronunciation must be perfect. These are the words: planto mihi ago
insquequo vicis subsisto. [He repeats
the phrase several times before he starts to chant in a ridiculously low
bass
voice. The rhythm is reminiscent of a
medieval Gregorian chant.]
ALLl:
Planto mihi ago insquequo vicis subsisto . . . Planto mihi ago insquequo vicis
subsisto . . . Planto mihi ago insquequo vicis subsisto . . . [The group
repeats the phrase four more times.]
[“Hellfire”
reaches crescendo in the background.
They finish chanting. At first,
everything appears to have worked; the plan seems to have succeeded. However, the women soon notice that something
is amiss.]
MAYR
(FIRE) [terrified]: Why are my teeth so sharp???????
REBECCA
(AIR) [her voice shaking]: Why do the pancakes smell like rot and
decay?????????
SUE
(EARTH) and ELIZABETH (WIND) [panicking]: Why can I hear the heartbeats of
everyone in the dorm???????????
MARY
(FIRE), SUE (EARTH), REBECCA (AIR), and ELIZABETH (WIND): Oh my God! Shit!
We’re vampires! [They scream
loudly. The panic and fear is apparent
in it.]
BARTHOLOMEW
[sneering]: Oh, my mistake. I thought
you said you wanted to be a vampire, Fire.
I guess I misunderstood your desire to subvert the natural order and
become immortal. That must be why I
deliberately misguided you to mispronounce the words. Oops.
Now you all will just have to live forever as vampires, cursed to always
be hungry, always frightening, always outsiders. Have fun . . .
[The
scene fades to black.]
***
[The
scene slowly fades in to show a shot of the chapel at night. (Or Al Ham's
portrait in the library)]
AL HAM NARRATOR
[voiceover]: Well, I hope you enjoyed my Bicentennial Video Tour of
Hamilton. I'm so proud of how
hard the students work to maintain their Gothic spirit. Of course, that could be because I
manipulated events to turn out this way.
I guess you'll never know . . .
written & performed by
Eryn Boyce, Allison Eck, Dylan Isenberg,
Pat Landers, Abby Saks, and Madeline
Umscheid
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