All Happy Diamonds
A Bloody Valentine's Surprise
ALL HAPPY DIAMONDS
A skeletal hand on fire in a gilded cage.
It’s the Year 2000. Valentine's day. An old farmer is digging a hole in his private land. Grey hair, green and white flannel shirt. Jeans. His dog watches, head tilted. Night.
Close up on his hands, roughened with calluses, sprinkled with a thin layer of dirt. Some of the calluses have burst. A wedding ring stays tight on one finger.
Wide panel. More mounds of soil have been thrown onto the surface. The man has his head tilted down, hands resting on the spade as he leans on it for support. Heavy shadows here. An orange medication bottle has fallen out of his jeans.
CAPTION: “Countdown to Deadheart is at 3.”
CAPTION: That was the last line in uncle’s journal. He always warned me against the unsolvable questions, the unknowable things.
Blood seeps from his hand.
CAPTION: So why did he teach me how to find them?
The Farmer grits his teeth.
Years of hypnotic therapy, beatings, and encouragement.
Close up on his eyes, from the low angle it is clear he’s looking down into the hole.
CAPTION: But now what?
High sky angle. We see the whole farm, a windmill is somewhere there, other stuff.
In the hole is the skeleton of a huge exotic bird. Encrusted with diamonds.
As he crouches down to get down there, the dog’s ears perk up.
Reaction from the Farmer.
OFF-PANEL: I can help you with that.
He turns and standing tall is a thin gaunt man. Eyes are an uncomfortable misty colour. He’s wearing robes that seem to be breathing with electricity. Singed black hair.
Profile of the pale man.
?: You heard me.
The Farmer subtly grips the shovel, causing blood to drip down the metal even more.
The Farmer lunges at the weird looking man
Close up. The spade contacts the shoulder via the sharp edge.
Sparks fly up through the fabric.
They surge up the spade head like blue veins.
The Farmer drops it to the grass with shock.
Over the shoulder angle. He looks up to the upper floor of his house, only one window has a light on.
The gaunt man sidles up to him.
?: Oh no no, relax.
He puts a hand on his shoulder.
?: Don’t worry about that. Don’t think about it.
A fat panel that takes up the whole middle chunk of the page. It’s the INT. of the house bedroom.
A double bed wettened with blood, a blanket- obscured body with a wire coat hanger tightened around the neck.
In the foreground there is a black and white photo of a bride holding a cage with a pet bird. She is wearing a diamond circlet.
All happy smiles.
The Farmer is confused.
FARMER: Wha? No…
Confusion slides to anger.
The Farmer orders the dog to attack. The dog is gone.
The gaunt man sighs and looks at a pocket watch.
?: Let’s get to the point.
Farmer is becoming panicked.
FARMER: What point…
The gaunt man doesn’t hide the disappointment.
?: When did you start digging that hole? Answer that and one question after if you do not mind.
In a state, the Farmer walks over to the hole.
FARMER: Not that long, 20 minutes? I…
PANEL 5: Low angle, He stops as he looks into the hole again. Focus on his expression.
The gaunt man walks up next to him.
?: Really now? With arms that were tired before the earth broke? No. Think again. Look again.
PANEL 2: Close up on the grass by their feet. A wedding ring.
?: Look again. I have an offer, but only to those who accept the truth. Look.
The rest of the page is taken up by this. The body from upstairs is in the hole, dressed in her old wedding dress. Coat hanger still there. The dog is licking her face sadly.
The farmer falls to the ground.
FARMER: nononono oh god oh god-
The gaunt man crouches to his level.
?: I promise he has nothing to do with it. Oh how she loved birds. Perhaps it’s for the best that you blocked out the rest, excuse the rhyme.
Focus on the gaunt man.
?: I can make all this go away, the tears, funeral, and eventual electric chair. Spare your reputation as well.
But you must go away too, with me.
?: You must tell me about your lost uncle, and what he told you about Deadheart. There isn’t long left.
The farmer knows he has no choice, he reaches out his hand.
A handshake, the blood from his hand drips onto the gaunt man.
?: A deal then.
Bird’s eye view of the whole field.
?: Now then my new friend. Have you ever been to Georgia?
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