FADE IN:
INT. PHOTO STUDIO
SHANNON (31), attractive, auburn-haired, checks the image
on a computer attached to a digital Hasselblad camera.
Assistants on ladders adjust a six-foot soft box (studio
light) suspended over a Honda Valkyrie motorcycle.
SHANNON
That looks good. Lock it down.
TAKEO MURAKAMI (58), distinguished and impassive, sits on
a comfortable chair near the computer monitor. ITO ISHII
(32), intense and eager, hovers nearby.
VAL (18), a hard-edged model wearing a mink wrap over a
sequined evening gown, flings open the dressing room door
and strikes a diva pose in the doorway.
VAL
I'm ready for my close-up.
As Val crosses into the light, a makeup artist brushes
powder onto her cheeks for a quick touch-up.
A stylist holds two different earrings to Val's ears.
SHANNON
I think the one on the right.
The stylist switches the left earring, holds a matched
pair to Val's ears for approval.
Shannon turns to Murakami, who nods in assent.
SHANNON
Stand by the bike so we can adjust
your hair light and get started.
As Val crosses to the bike, attaching the earrings, the
mink stole slips off her shoulders.
Shannon's eyes pop and her mouth drops.
A Harley-Davidson tattoo covers much of Val's back.
SHANNON
Your agency didn't mention a
tattoo.
VAL
Isn't it great?
Val drops the stole to show off the tattoo.
VAL
I wanted one forever and with this
job I can finally afford it.
Murakami rises, harangues Ishii with controlled anger.
MURAKAMI
Kore ha hidou de aru. Kanojo ha
kanojo no watashi tachi no Amerika
no kyousou aite Harley-Davidson no
irezumi wo yuusuru kanojo ha kono
youchi na sakusen no watashi tachi
no kaisha no meiyo wo yogosu koto
wo nozomu ka. Nippon no watashi
tachi no meue no hito ha gekiretsu
de aru. Watashi tachi ha meiyo wo
kyou ushinatte shimatta.
Ishii bows repeatedly, turns to Shannon.
ISHII
Murakami-san says billboard is for
Honda, not Harley-Davidson.
Shannon raises her hands in a calming gesture.
SHANNON
I caught the gist of it.
VAL
I can't wear a Honda tattoo. My
man rides a Harley. It'd be like
cheating on him.
Shannon turns on Val, coiled to attack.
SHANNON
Maybe Honda feels the same way
about putting a model on their
billboards with a Harley-Davidson
tattoo on her back!
VAL
Can't we cover it with make-up?
SHANNON
We cover pimples with make-up, not
tattoos the size of floor tiles.
Shannon turns and walks toward her office, tailed by Val.
VAL
I've got an idea! You can sell the
pictures to Harley-Davidson.
Shannon shakes her head as she walks away.
SHANNON
Why would Harley-Davidson want a
picture of you with a Honda?
VAL
Just get rid of the bike.
SHANNON
Go home. Before I get angry.
VAL
I still get paid, don't I?
Shannon's PHONE RINGS as she reaches her desk.
INT. COOKE SOFTWARE DEVELOPMENT
At a cluttered desk with six computer monitors, white
haired PAUL COOKE (36) speaks into a headset.
PAUL
Shannon, sorry to impose,
especially on Halloween, but our
clients have been hit hard by this
new virus. Looks like we'll be
here most of the night. Can Dizzy
stay over with Tilly tonight?
INT. PHOTO STUDIO - SHANNON'S OFFICE
Shannon boots up her computer as she talks on the phone.
SHANNON
We're working late, too. I was
about to call Frances and ask if
Tilly could stay overnight with
Drew. One way or another, I'll
make sure Dizzy is covered.
PAUL (V.O.)
Thanks a million. You should let
me pay Tilly for her trouble.
SHANNON
Dizzy's never a bother. She's the
little sister Tilly always wanted.
PAUL (V.O.)
Be careful using your computer.
This Halloween virus is vicious.
Shannon hangs up, turns to her monitor. The Windows
background dissolves into a ghost carrying a trick-or
treat bag. Shannon sighs, reaches for the telephone.
INT. STABLE - DAY
FRANCES (35), a wholesome blonde in jeans, cowboy boots
and latex gloves, checks a newborn foal's heartbeat.
FRANCES
Heart rate sixty-eight.
NIKKI (14) records the heart rate on a chart.
NIKKI
Is she alright?
FRANCES
Strong as a horse. I'll bet she
grows bigger than you.
NIKKI
Let's hope, or I'll be giving her
rides.
FRANCES
Did you read Dr. Miller's book?
NIKKI
Cover to cover.
FRANCES
It's time to begin your imprint
training.
Nikki hesitantly reaches for the foal's head.
FRANCES
Don't be nervous. Just bond with
your new friend. Touch Cinnamon's
ears, nostrils, lips. Help her get
used to being handled.
Nikki massages the foal's ears.
A COWBOY pokes his head into the foaling stall.
COWBOY
Cranberry's calcium level just
shot up.
FRANCES
Okay, looks like she'll be foaling
today too. I'll check on her in a
few minutes.
Frances's CELL RINGS. She pulls off one glove to answer.
INT. PHOTO STUDIO - CONTINUOUS
Shannon flips through a stack of model composites and zed
cards, her telephone squeezed between shoulder and ear.
SHANNON
Frances, I've got a major disaster
at the studio and Paul's tied up
fixing some new computer virus. Is
there any chance Tilly and Dizzy
can stay with you tonight?
INT. STABLE - CONTINUOUS
Frances plunges the nozzle of an enema syringe into a
bucket of soapy water and squeezes the bulb.
FRANCES
Jacques is taking me to a costume
ball. I think tonight's the night.
She releases the bulb, drawing water into the syringe.
SHANNON (V.O.)
Of all the nights! I mean, that's
great.
FRANCES
Listen, the girls can stay at my
place. Tilly can watch Drew and
Dizzy for a few hours. We'll be
back before midnight.
SHANNON (V.O.)
You're an angel. Where are the
girls now?
FRANCES
Where else? Terrorizing local
merchants.
INT. UPSCALE FASHION BOUTIQUE - DAY
ANNE, an anxious merchant, surveys aisles of trendy
apparel, hung like soldiers on dress parade.
A single jacket breaks ranks, hanging at an obtuse angle.
Anne scurries on stiletto heels to pull the offending
jacket for white glove inspection. She rearranges the
collar, smooths the fabric to a perfect drape, then hangs
it in precise alignment.
A COMMOTION outside. Anne cocks her head, turns.
The front door swings open. MATILDA "TILLY" (15) bursts
in. The intense sunlight from outside transforms her to a
ghostly apparition and sets her auburn hair ablaze with a
fiery nimbus. Blessed with the beauty of her model-turned
photographer mother, Tilly is nevertheless bashful, but
hides her insecurity behind a brassy exterior.
TILLY
Could this be haute couture's
Elysian Fields? Let's see what
fashion statement this shop
yields.
Tilly is joined in the doorway by the ghostly apparition
of DRUSILLA "DREW" (14), raven hair, a plain face with a
prominent hawk nose, flawless alabaster skin and piercing
blue eyes. Drew is frequently dark, moody and cynical.
DREW
Progressive prices masking retro
styles For fools with tastes ...
Drew falters, fumbling for a rhyme.
DIZZY
... less chic than juveniles?
A third ghostly nimbus-enshrouded form joins them,
DESDEMONA "DIZZY" (12), platinum blond, jade-green eyes.
Dizzy is optimistic and precocious, with her father
Paul's keen intellect, the immaturity of a preteen and a
cuteness reminiscent of the woman who broke Paul's heart.
DIZZY
At last a shop with bargains so
profuse, My daddy's credit cards
shall find their use.
They enter with catwalk struts, wearing identical school
uniforms: beret, blazer with coat of arms, starched white
shirt, necktie and tartan skirts hemmed at the knee.
Tilly pulls a blouse from a rack, studies it critically.
TILLY
A dainty silk chemise of ecru
gauze Would show the world your
lacy training bras.
Tilly tosses the blouse to Dizzy.
Dizzy holds the blouse up to the light.
DIZZY
My quality, not quantity's
premiere; Unlike the udders held
in your brassière.
Dizzy drops the blouse disdainfully on the floor.
Dizzy pulls a dress from the rack, holds it to her body
and dances around the shop floor in a waltz.
Anne's shocked amazement overwhelms her icy reserve.
ANNE
May I help you?
Tilly pulls a jacket from the rack, tosses the hanger to
Anne and walks to a mirror, pulling it on.
Drew takes a hat from a mannequin and tosses it to Tilly.
ANNE
Are you finding everything to your
satisfaction?
Tilly shakes her head in disgust, slips out of the jacket
and tosses it at Anne.
DREW
The girl won't speak or even drop
a dime For any slug who first
can't learn to rhyme.
Dizzy tosses the dress to Anne, grabs a pair of jeans.
ANNE
I'm not about to rhyme. If you
want to shop here, you'll have to
speak English.
Tilly fans a fistful of platinum credit cards and
flutters them in Anne's face like an Oriental fan.
DREW
If poetry in metered verse won't
do ...
DIZZY
... We rhyme in MasterCard and
Amex too.
Drew and Dizzy fan their own credit cards like characters
in a Noh drama (Japanese dance/drama performed in masks).
DREW
Beginners born without the gift of
rhyme ...
DIZZY
... Are best advised to speak in
pantomime.
INT. BOUTIQUE - LATER
Tilly, Drew and Dizzy strut through the shop in new
outfits, their arms full of shopping bags and hat boxes.
The shop looks like the aftermath of a tornado. Discarded
garments lie in piles by mirrors and hang from the
fingertips of mannequins.
Anne surveys the chaos from her cash register, smiling.
EXT. SUBURBAN REAL ESTATE DEVELOPMENT - ESTABLISHING
A lush expanse of trees and meadows, spotted with
isolated developments where the ground has been graded.
Dirt roads lead to skeletal frames.
Automobile headlights follow a paved road leading to
three established homes. One lot has a large pool and a
coach house above the garage, another has a small stable.
EXT. DREW'S HOME - EVENING
A Citroën C6 pulls into the driveway of the house with
the stable, tooting LA MARSEILLAISE on its horn.
An upscale suburban home surrounded by a manicured lawn.
JACQUES (52), with jet-black hair and a Gallic nose,
climbs out, dressed to the nines as Napoléon Bonaparte,
in military jacket with epaulets, vest, breeches, gaiters
and boots. A Toledo in a wooden scabbard capped with
brass hangs at his belt.
Jacques dons a bicorn hat with marabou trim, squares his
shoulders and strides to the door.
INT. DREW'S HOME
Tilly, Drew and Dizzy, dressed as witches, add finishing
touches to their make-up. Tilly is Glam Witch, in scarlet
trimmed with ribbons and lace. Drew is Goth Witch, in
black. Dizzy is Good Witch in white satin and chiffon.
The doorbell CHIMES. Tilly, Drew and Dizzy exchange
disinterested shrugs, return to their make-up.
EXT. DREW'S HOME - DOORWAY
Jacques, his hand tucked in his vest, stands impatiently.
Scowling, he reaches for the doorbell.
INT. DREW'S HOME
Frances tightens the laces of a stay (18th century
corset) over a low-cut camisole.
Hearing the doorbell CHIME again, she scrambles across
the hall, tugging the laces.
FRANCES
Drusilla, dear. Will somebody
please answer the door?
Frances charges into Drew's room, tugging on her laces.
FRANCES
Quick, can somebody please lace me
up? Girls, you look absolutely
gorgeous.
Drew helps Frances with the stay. The DOORBELL CHIMES.
Frances looks over her shoulder to Drew, exasperated.
Drew looks to Tilly, plaintively.
Tilly looks to Dizzy, haughtily.
Dizzy trudges toward the door in resignation.
FRANCES
Try to be nice to Jacques.
DIZZY
I'm gracious when civility is
owed; But never to that nasty old
French toad.
Frances starts after her, but Drew tugs on her laces.
DREW
Why waste your time with that
shopworn antique Whose comments
never rise above slugspeak?
Drew ties the laces in a bow and pats Frances's shoulder.
FRANCES
He's not that old. Not everybody
enjoys your gift for verse. I also
talk in slugspeak, as you call it.
Dizzy trudges downstairs. The hallway is decorated for
Halloween with jack-o'-lanterns and candles.
Dizzy opens the door on an agitated Jacques, standing
like a general at parade review.
DIZZY
Again, you've found dear Frances
running late; Please let me brush
your hat out while you wait.
Jacques surrenders his hat.
A black cat struts past, fluffy tail raised in the air.
JACQUES
Certainement. Do I get a hat
check? Just kidding. I'm sure
you'll recognize it.
Dizzy ushers him to the living room.
Jacques admires a lionfish in a large marine aquarium.
Dizzy runs into Drew's room, clutching Jacques's hat.
DIZZY
Quick, grab the eye of newt and
wool of bat. That pompous fool
gave this young witch his hat.
Drew and Tilly barely look up from their mirrors.
DREW
That seems a downright useless
thing to snitch.
TILLY
It's really not his hat and you're
no witch.
DIZZY
It's Halloween, so let us make
believe Black magic will infuse
the spells we weave.
TILLY
Then throw a spell to make twits
disappear. We'll meet again if you
return next year.
DREW
But Dizzy's right, we'll all enjoy
this jest; Let magic curse our
most unwelcome guest.
Tilly tosses her lip gloss aside.
Drew marks a circle on the carpet with hair spray and
draws a pentagram within the circle.
Dizzy dims the lights.
Tilly lights a candle and centers it in the pentagram.
Dizzy places the hat next to the candle.
The girls sit inside the circle and join hands.
They exchange glances, shrug hesitantly.
DIZZY
May everyone observe and none
forget When day is done,
disgusting Jacques's all wet.
Tilly and Drew nod their heads in approval.
DREW
May witchcraft's magic spell most
singular Show Frances what a fool
you really are.
Tilly and Dizzy nod in approval.
TILLY
As simple truth can sting, may you
be stung And held to painful
ridicule far-flung.
Frances, as Marie Antoinette, descends the staircase.
Jacques comes to the living room doorway, strikes an
imperial pose, tucking his hand in his vest.
JACQUES
Mademoiselle, je suis enchanté.
Vous êtes très jolie ce soir.
Frances curtsies, fluttering a fan demurely.
FRANCES
And you look very dashing tonight.
JACQUES
Mais, où est mon chapeau? My hat?
FRANCES
Dizzy! Where did you put Jacques's
hat? Girls! Come say good-bye.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy rush to the staircase. Dizzy runs
down, hands Jacques the bicorn hat with a thinly veiled
smirk, rejoins her giggling friends on the steps.
Jacques dons the hat, offers his elbow to Frances.
FRANCES
You girls be good tonight. Only
practice white magic. There's more
candy in the kitchen if you run
out of treats.
Jacques and Frances step toward the door.
The bicorn hat snags on a decorative witch hanging from
the ceiling.
As Jacques walks toward the door, the hat is pulled off
his head, swings back like a pendulum and sails behind an
étagère filled with porcelain and crystal bric-a-brac.
With a Gallic shrug, Jacques turns to retrieve his hat.
Jacques bends over, his hand on the handle of his sword.
His scabbard pokes into the mouth of a jack-o'-lantern.
Jacques fumbles for the hat, can't quite reach it.
The brass end cap of Jacques's scabbard hangs in the
flame of a candle in the jack-o'-lantern.
Jacques stretches to reach his hat, his butt wiggling.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy giggle.
With a tug and a twist, Jacques retrieves his hat.
The scabbard swings, knocking the jack-o'-lantern down,
smashing on the black cat, asleep on the floor.
The dazed cat rises unsteadily to her feet.
FRANCES
Oh, Jacques, the poor cat.
The jack-o'-lantern's candle ignites the cat's tail.
Jacques bends to grab the cat.
The cat leaps to the étagère, knocking it off balance.
The étagère totters. Jacques reaches to steady it.
Jacques trips on his sword, reaches to steady himself,
knocks the étagère over.
Dozens of crystal and porcelain knickknacks fall to the
floor, shattering around the cat with the flaming tail.
Drew cups her hands over her mouth in surprise.
The cat leaps into Jacques arms.
Jacques reflexively bats it away, knocking it into
Frances's wig.
The cat claws for a grip on the wig, pulling it askew.
Wrapped in the smoking wig, the cat tumbles to the floor.
The smoldering wig flops around the floor as the hapless
cat struggles to get free.
DIZZY
Save the cat!
Jacques crouches, reaches for the cat.
His scabbard snags in the carpet. He reaches to free it
and burns his left hand on the end cap.
Tilly, Dizzy and Drew double over in laughter.
Sucking on his blistered palm, Jacques tries to free the
cat with his right hand.
The panicking cat claws at Jacques's hand as he rises.
Jacques fights with the bouncing, burning ball of hair.
JACQUES
Merde. Il est chaud.
Juggling the wigged-out cat like a hot potato, Jacques
steps into the living room and drops it in the aquarium.
The wig SIZZLES and sinks to the bottom of the tank.
FRANCES
Jacques, she'll drown.
The wiggling wig comes to rest atop the lionfish.
Jacques pushes up his sleeves, reaches into the tank.
Jacques's cuffs slide down his forearms into the water.
Grimacing, Jacques grasps the roiling wig.
Jacques jerks his hands from the water, looks to Frances,
as he clutches his right palm in pain.
JACQUES
Chat diabolique. It bit me.
Jacques gamely reaches in again, further soaking his
jacket sleeve, and plucks the wig from the water.
Jacques drops the wig on the entrance hall floor,
clutches his hand in agony.
The wet CAT tears free with a SHRIEK, runs down the hall.
The lionfish flops on the floor.
Frances grabs a fish net and scoops up the lionfish.
An angry red welt rises on Jacques's right hand, a large
blister on his left.
Suppressing smirks, Tilly, Drew and Dizzy ease upstairs.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy scurry into Tilly's bedroom, close
the door softly behind them, as they explode in LAUGHTER.
DIZZY
Can you believe ...
Tilly clamps her hand over Dizzy's mouth.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy exchange worried looks.
TILLY
Slugspeak!
DIZZY
Slugspeak?
DREW
Slugspeak.
TILLY
All we ... Everything we said
came true. What if our verse made
it happen?
DIZZY
Or the costumes?
DREW
Or the magic circle on the floor?
DIZZY
That cat is definitely enchanted.
TILLY
No more verse until we figure out
what's happening. We can't risk
accidentally casting a spell.
DIZZY
That was no accident. You said
sting, he got stung. He wound up
all wet. Frances saw him for the
fool he is.
The girls are startled by a KNOCK at the door.
FRANCES (O.S.)
Drew?
Drew quickly grabs the candle and hides it.
Tilly and Dizzy sit on the carpet, spreading their skirts
to cover the faint hair spray marks on the floor.
Drew opens the door cautiously.
DREW
Yes, mother?
Frances stands in the doorway, unhooking her gown.
FRANCES
"Yes, mother?" That doesn't rhyme.
Are you feeling alright?
DREW
Fine.
Tilly and Dizzy smile brightly from the floor.
TILLY
Never better.
DIZZY
Peachy.
Frances turns, puzzled. Drew unlaces her stay.
FRANCES
I'm taking Jacques to the
emergency room. Don't open the
door for any strangers ... unless
they're wearing masks.
DREW
Of course not.
FRANCES
Shall I bring you something? What
do young witches eat?
TILLY
We're not really witches.
DIZZY
We're just ordinary girls.
FRANCES
But witches are special on
Halloween. How about a tasty
barbecued bat pizza?
Tilly and Dizzy shake their heads "No" emphatically.
TILLY
Just vegetarian.
DIZZY
Nothing unusual.
Frances turns away, but Drew calls after her.
DREW
You're not a witch, are you mom?
FRANCES
No, of course not.
DREW
Then I couldn't possibly be a
witch, could I? It's hereditary,
isn't it?
FRANCES
I've never given it any thought. I
suppose it's like Catholicism. It
usually runs in the family, but
once in a while, along comes a
black sheep.
Frances tussles Drew's raven hair, kisses her cheek.
Drew looks at her mother's blond hair, smiles weakly.
Drew closes the door, turns to Tilly and Dizzy.
DREW
That's me, a black sheep, the
family witch. Both mom and dad
have blond hair, but my hair's
black.
DIZZY
There's probably a reason for
that.
Drew knits her brow.
DREW
You think my mom got it on with
Satan?
DIZZY
A much simpler explanation.
TILLY
It might have something to do with
the reason your father divorced
your mother.
Drew scrunches up her face.
DREW
You think? My mom? No, no way.
Tilly shakes her head and raises her eyes to the heavens.
DIZZY
You can believe your mom did the
deed with Satan, but not with the
mailman?
DREW
The mailman couldn't be my dad. He
has blond hair too.
DIZZY
Jacques has black hair.
Drew beans Dizzy with a toy broom, knocking off her hat.
Dizzy dusts off her white witch's hat.
DIZZY
You can be slut witch and vampire
witch, but I'm a good witch.
TILLY
That's Glam Witch.
DREW
Goth Witch to you.
DIZZY
I vow to only use my witchcraft
for good.
DREW
Like drowning the cat?
DIZZY
I didn't put a curse on the cat.
TILLY
None of us did, but the cat got
involved. You can't drown a cat
every time you want to conjure an
ice cream.
DIZZY
I would never use my magic for
that. How would I know the
ingredients are natural?
DREW
We could conjure an FDA label.
DIZZY
Or insist on all-natural ice cream
when we cast our spells.
TILLY
We learned something tonight.
DREW
We're all brides of Satan.
DIZZY
I'm too young to marry Satan.
TILLY
Maybe white magic can't exist
without black magic.
Our fun with Jacques nearly killed
the cat and destroyed your mom's
figurines.
DREW
I always hated those stupid
figurines.
DIZZY
Maybe that's why they were
destroyed. An auxiliary
subconscious sub-spell.
TILLY
No more magic until we learn to
use it.
DIZZY
How can we learn if we don't
practice?
DREW
People don't suddenly turn into
witches. If we've been given
magical powers, there has to be a
reason.
DIZZY
Something we need to do that
requires magic. Something nobody
else can do.
TILLY
Right. Some supernatural celestial
agency assigned us magical powers
to complete a top secret mission
with witchcraft.
DREW
You have a better theory?
TILLY
Satan's condom broke.
INT. FIGHT ARENA
Tilly, as Glam Witch, stands in the middle of a small
arena opposite SENSEI, a Shaolin monk in flowing robes.
SENSEI
You have trained hard in the black
arts.
Tilly bows deeply.
TILLY
Arigato gozaimasu, sensei.
SENSEI
Now you are ready for your final
test.
Sensei bows and leaves the arena.
The lights rise on the spectator stands, filled with
seventeenth century puritans.
TOMÁS DE TORQUEMADA (70s) enters in scarlet robes.
TILLY
Torquemada? But I'm not a heretic.
TORQUEMADA
For your apostasy and dualist
heresy, you will burn at the
stake, then you will burn in hell.
TILLY
But I'm a Catholic.
Torquemada tears off his robes, becoming a buffed Latino
boxer with a tonsure in scarlet boxing trunks.
Two nuns in fifteenth century habits lace up Torquemada's
boxing gloves, embossed with crucifixes.
TILLY
I never imagined he would be so
buffed.
An urbane ENGLISHMAN in a tailored three-piece suit
wheels a cart into the ring.
ENGLISHMAN
Not to worry. W Branch has put
together some nasty little
talismans for you.
Torquemada turns, raising his fists to the spectators,
revealing DOMINI CANES tattooed across his shoulders.
The Englishman clasps a Rolex around Tilly's wrist.
ENGLISHMAN
This is your witch-watch. Press
the button by the winding stem and
it instantly becomes midnight.
TILLY
Turn the clock back and not miss
curfew.
ENGLISHMAN
This was not developed through
years of patient research entirely
for that purpose. Now for your
transportation.
The Englishman pulls a vacuum cleaner from the cart.
TILLY
No time for housework, I have to
fight the grand inquisitor.
ENGLISHMAN
Can't have you zipping around the
countryside on an old broom, so I
invite you to try my eight-pound
Oreck vacuum cleaner for thirty
days. If not completely satisfied,
return it and I'll issue you, at
considerable expense to the
British taxpayers, an Aston Martin
DBS with revolving number plates.
TILLY
Aaaaiiiigh!
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
Tilly bolts upright in a canopy bed draped with black
chiffon, covered in black sheets and a scarlet quilt.
She climbs out of bed in a flowing scarlet peignoir.
TILLY
Too much barbecued bat pizza.
Tilly looks at the Rolex on her wrist. It's midnight.
TILLY
The witching hour.
Tilly opens French doors on a full moon.
TILLY
Nice night for a ride.
Tilly takes a besom (a broom made of twigs) from behind
the curtain, swings it like a batter advancing to the
plate, as she steps onto the balcony.
She climbs onto the railing, swings a leg over the besom,
rotates her shoulders to loosen up.
TILLY
Ignition.
Tilly pushes off. And plummets straight down. And down.
TILLY
Aaaaiiiigh!
INT. DREW'S HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Tilly awakes with a start, looks around to see she, Drew
and Dizzy are lying on the sofa, in cotton nightshirts.
A TV monitor displays the DVD menu for Rosemary's Baby.
TILLY
What did you put on that pizza,
Wolfgang?
Tilly untangles herself and pads off to the kitchen.
Dizzy stirs, shifts, settles back into sleep.
INT. TELEVISION STUDIO
The stage is arranged like an MTV relationship game show.
Paul sits on a stool. A perfectly groomed EMCEE stands
with a microphone.
EMCEE
Tell us, Paul, which of our lovely
contestants will it be?
PAUL
I was impressed with Number One's
work to cure infantile paralysis
and with Number Three's work to
save the Brazilian rain forests,
but I have to choose Number Two
because she loves children and
nothing is more important to me
than my daughter's happiness.
Dressed as Good Witch, Dizzy applauds enthusiastically.
Seated all around Dizzy, witches, warlocks, wizards,
shamans and sorcerers offer Dizzy congratulations.
The hidden side of the stage rotates to reveal Contestant
One, an attractive, intellectual and Contestant Three, an
attractive, outdoors type, congratulating MISS APRIL, a
bombshell in a skimpy bikini and sash lettered with "MISS
APRIL."
Dizzy's mouth drops.
INT. DIZZY'S HOME
Dizzy gives Miss April a pedicure.
MISS APRIL
When you're finished with my
nails, take out the trash and wash
all the windows, inside and out.
Then do your homework. I just love
having children to do the work.
Miss April sniffs the air, wrinkles her nose.
MISS APRIL
What is that foul odor?
Dizzy drops her emery board and rushes from the room.
DIZZY
My science project.
In the kitchen, Dizzy removes the lid from a soup kettle
and stirs.
The pot is filled with a disgusting mixture of insects
and reptiles. The spoon brings an eyeball to the surface.
Dizzy smiles wickedly.
In her room, Dizzy spoons meal worms into a small bowl
and sets it inside a terrarium.
Paul looks in.
PAUL
Desdemona, have you seen your
stepmother?
DIZZY
No, father. Is she missing?
From the terrarium, a huge toad stares at Dizzy.
INT. DREW'S HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Dizzy awakes to find she is lying on the sofa by Drew.
Shaking her head, she pads off to the kitchen.
EXT. WOODS - NIGHT
Drew rides a black stallion at full gallop along a wooded
path under a full moon in her Goth Witch outfit.
Reaching a fork, she reins in the horse, walks it along a
less traveled path, through denser growth.
Hearing MURMURS, she dismounts and tethers the horse.
Drew advances through the brush to a clearing.
Thirteen WITCHES kneel around a circle drawn in the dirt,
MURMURING indistinctly in several languages.
Drew hesitantly approaches the circle.
The Witches continue in a trance, CHANTING, prostrating
themselves, gesticulating wildly.
Drew approaches one of the Witches.
DREW
Excuse me.
The Witch takes no notice, prostrates herself again.
As she rises, Drew reaches out to touch her shoulder.
The GROUND RUMBLES. The earth opens at the center of the
circle, disgorging fire and brimstone.
SATAN emerges, one nasty character: eight feet tall,
chiseled features, horns of a ram, hind quarters of a
goat, barbed serpentine tail, huge bat wings.
Satan points a long fingernail straight at Drew.
SATAN
How dare you summon me when there
is a stranger in your midst?
Two of the Witches grab Drew, toss her at Satan's feet.
DREW
I came to join your coven.
The Witches LAUGH among themselves.
SATAN
There can be only thirteen.
CRONE WITCH lays a withered hand on Drew's cheek.
CRONE WITCH
Sorry, dear. You can only join if
one of us dies and nobody has died
for two hundred years.
WICKED WITCH
Unless you challenge one of us to
fight to the death.
AMAZON WITCH, maxed-out on steroids, throws her hat at
Drew's feet.
AMAZON WITCH
I'm ready to rumble.
Amazon Witch tears off her dress, stripping to wrestling
leotards and training gloves, gets in Drew's face.
The other Witches begin chanting.
WITCHES
Two go in, one comes out. Two go
in, one comes out. Two go in ...
AMAZON WITCH
Kill me and join the coven. Lose
and you become Satan's bride.
Drew spits on the ground at Amazon Witch's feet. Her
spittle bursts into flames.
DREW
What's the matter? The big guy
can't find his own dates? I accept
your challenge.
Drew starts to tear off her Goth Witch outfit.
A Witch steps forward, lowers her cowl. It's Frances.
FRANCES
Wait. There's another way. Let her
join my Blackie Scout troupe.
DREW
Mother! You're embarrassing me.
Frances tears off Drew's Goth Witch outfit, revealing a
black scout uniform with silver-buckled pilgrim shoes.
DREW
This uniform is hideous.
Frances takes Drew's sash and begins sewing on a patch.
FRANCES
You've already earned your first
demerit badge for summoning Satan.
DREW
Aaaaiiiigh!
INT. DREW'S HOME - NIGHT
Drew awakens to find herself alone on the sofa. She finds
Tilly and Dizzy in the kitchen eating pumpkin pie.
TILLY
Trouble sleeping?
DREW
I had the weirdest dream.
DIZZY
Dreamt you were a witch?
DREW
You too?
DIZZY
Witchcraft is forcing itself out
of your subconscious and into your
conscious.
TILLY
Thank you, Dr. Fraud.
DIZZY
Anytime you need to know anything
about psycho-analogy, just ask.
TILLY
Shhh. I think we woke your mom.
Frances enters, wearing a nightshirt.
FRANCES
Did you girls leave me any pie?
DREW
Pumpkin or pizza?
FRANCES
Pumpkin?
DREW
Sorry.
FRANCES
Pizza?
DREW
That went a long time ago.
FRANCES
Milk?
DREW
I'll put it on the shopping list.
FRANCES
Is there anything left to eat?
DREW
Halloween candy.
FRANCES
I guess it will have to do.
Dizzy digs into a ceramic pumpkin, distributes candy.
Drew reads a label, slides it back.
DREW
This has peanuts.
DIZZY
Sorry.
Dizzy checks a candy label before sliding it to Drew.
DIZZY
How's Jacques?
FRANCES
Thanks for asking. His hands will
hurt for a while, but he's okay.
DREW
Sorry if we spoiled your evening.
FRANCES
You didn't spoil anything. It was
just a crazy thing that happened.
Frances laughs, tries to stifle herself.
FRANCES
I shouldn't laugh, but he did look
awfully silly.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy laugh. Frances laughs with them.
DREW
Are you going to marry Jacques?
Frances gets serious, regards Drew steadily.
FRANCES
Jacques proposed tonight, but if I
marry him, we'll have to move to
France.
DIZZY
I want to go to France.
FRANCES
Maybe you can visit us.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy exchange stunned looks.
DREW
We can't leave. What about your
practice?
FRANCES
Six years ago, this was horse
country. Now developers are buying
up the ranches for shopping malls
and housing developments.
DREW
But I don't speak the language.
FRANCES
You've had a year of French.
DREW
I wouldn't have taken it if I
thought I'd have to use it. I
can't even put somebody down in
French, not with style.
DIZZY
Combien tu prends pour hanter une
maison?
Frances pokes Dizzy.
FRANCES
Putting people down isn't the most
important thing in life.
DIZZY
Ta mère doit t'avoir battu sur le
visage avec le bâton de laideur.
FRANCES
Insult my daughter again and I'll
whump you with my ugly stick.
DIZZY
Je suis fier de mon cul quand je
vois ta gueule.
FRANCES
Watch your gueule or you'll feel
my hand across your cul.
Dizzy zips her lips shut, suppressing a giggle.
DREW
Take Dizzy to France with Jacques.
Tilly and I will stay to look
after the horses.
FRANCES
I expected cherubs and turtledoves
when Jacques proposed, but all I
could see was the cat's flaming
tail. Instead of shouting, "Yes, a
thousand times, yes." I told him
I'd have to think about it.
Frances grabs a candy and kisses Drew good night.
FRANCES
Try to get some sleep. It wouldn't
hurt to brush up on your French.
Drew, Tilly and Dizzy watch Frances walk away, then
huddle together conspiratorially.
DREW
That was a close one.
DIZZY
If not for our magic you'd be off
to France with Jacques for a step-
father.
TILLY
And I'd be left here all alone.
DIZZY
You'd still have me.
TILLY
Even worse.
DREW
We only delayed the inevitable.
DIZZY
Our magic can stop it permanently.
TILLY
This must be why we were given the
power.
DIZZY
We'll cast a spell to make Frances
fall in love with somebody totally
cool and she'll forget about
Jacques and France.
TILLY
Maybe we should find somebody for
Shannon too, if we're casting love
spells.
DIZZY
Sure, we'll even find a girlfriend
for Paul, while we're at it.
TILLY
If we do this, we've got to be
careful.
DREW
I don't want to drown any cats,
but worse things can happen if we
do nothing. |
