Create Inn (script)

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Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Mon May 21, 2012 11:13 pm

Some of you may remember Rust's Create Inn, an RP from back on Neo that never got too far. Well, this past fall semester, I took a Screenwriting course, and for our final project, we had to write the first act of a full, movie-length script (~30 pages). I asked for permission to use the basic structure of Create Inn, and Rust said he was cool with it, so here it is, should anyone care to look it over.

CREATE INN
by
Brian Smith

Story Concept
by
James Levi, Jr.


Fade in:

EXT. ISLAND - DAY

The tiny isle is an island in the barest sense of the word. It is barren and rocky, but on it sits an enormous, beautiful mansion. Its white marble facade gleams in the sun, dominated by massive Corinthian columns and hundreds of small sculptures. The only part of the island not taken up by the mansion is a small jetty, at which a yacht every bit as extravagant as the mansion is moored. As the opening credits roll, seven FIGURES are stepping off of the yacht and onto the jetty. Six look up at the mansion in awe as the seventh, a female brunette, leads them up the jagged path to the front doors. We hear BARANBULL'S voice as the group makes their way to the mansion.

BARANBULL (VO)
To whom it may concern: Hello! My name is Ahri Baranbull. It is such a pleasure to finally be in contact with a master of creativity such as yourself. I am the Innmaster of the Create Inn, the one venue where a person's creativity can come to life at a mere thought. Here, at the Create Inn, we do exactly that: Create.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY
The seven PEOPLE have passed through the grand doors into the mansion. The walls are stained wood, lined with many pieces of art, including sculptures, paintings, and everything in between. Ahead of them is a pair of huge double doors that put the front doors to shame. They are well over ten feet tall and made of solid marble. A plaque over them reads, "Welcome to the Create Inn."

BARANBULL (VO)
You will conceive a new world, completely at your whim, while we personally cater to your every need. No outward distractions, just the most perfect canvas in which to paint. Or the best ink in which to scribe your world. Let your notes of song transform into reality, invoking beauty in their wake. Or perhaps even sculpt the land with your very own hands! The possibilities are immeasurable. With new technology that can only be found at the Create Inn, your every thought can physically manifest itself, creating a corporeal world that was previously available only in your wildest fantasies.

INT. DINING HALL - DAY

The room into which the seven PEOPLE enter is spectacular. A huge, vaulted ceiling soars above them, with sculptures of cherubs dancing across the walls. The room is dominated by a huge, carved mahogany table with six chairs lined up along one side of it. An extravagant feast is laid out on top of it. At the head of the room sits a smaller table of the same style, facing the first. This one has two chairs behind it. LAYLA, the female leading the group, motions for the other six to sit at the long table. She is fairly pretty, in her late twenties, with brown hair pulled back in a professional hairstyle. She wears a suit jacket and matching skirt. She heads for the smaller table as BARANBULL'S monologue continues.

BARANBULL (VO)
Enclosed within this letter is an airline ticket. You were selected because you are, as I have stated, a master of a specific form of art. So I welcome you to the Create Inn, whether you be Writer, Storyteller, Dancer or Musician, Artist of Paint or Ink, or even Architect or Sculptor. I welcome you to the Create Inn, where your imagination will soar to the highest peaks of perfection.

Everyone has been seated, and the six people at the long table look around questioningly for a moment. The credits end as the doors through which the characters entered open. BARANBULL stands in the doorway. He is a large man, well over six feet tall, with a waxed head and a genial smile etched upon his face. His taste in clothing is as extravagant as everything else in the mansion.

BARANBULL
Welcome, honored guests. Welcome, to the Create Inn.

Baranbull strides to the front of the room, and stands in front of the head table.

BARANBULL (CONT)
My name is Ahri Baranbull, the Innmaster here at the Create Inn. I see that some of you have begun the welcome feast without me.

Though it is not said reproachfully, ARCHIE, a red-haired man of 35, and the only one who had begun eating without their host, looks up, embarassed. He is dressed in shabby clothes; it is obvious that he does not care about how he presents himself.

ARCHIE
(with a mouthful of food)
Sorry.

BARANBULL
Not to worry, Master Archibald! The food is there to eat, after all. But while we have your attention, why don't you start us off with the introductions? We are all going to be working together, after all.

ARCHIE
Alrighty. My name is Archie Wilson, no 'bald' there, and I come from Pittsburgh. I came here when I got the letter, and... here I am.

Baranbull says nothing, but looks pointedly at BRADFORD, the man beside Archie. He is clearly meant to go next. Bradford stands. He is dressed in a neat suit jacket and speaks in an Irish accent.

BRADFORD
I am Bradford Brown. I write novels, so some of you may have heard of me.

Bradford sits down, and, going down the line, WARREN stands up. He is tall and lanky, but with some obvious muscle tone in his arms. He has neat brown hair and is dressed in business casual.

WARREN
I'm Warren Fox, from Michigan. I'm a sculptor; creating fantasy pieces is my specialty, though I'm not exactly well-known. I've never created anything really big, you know?

Warren sits and KAMERLA, the only female of the group, stands. She is a mature Italian woman in her forties, with silver-streaked black hair. She speaks in a thick accent, but her English is very good.

KAMERLA
I am Kamerla Isadro, an art teacher from Sicily. I... don't really know what else to say.

Kamerla sits, and the attention shifts to RICHARD. He is impeccably dressed and groomed, upper-class in every sense of the word. He has a deep English accent, though he does not stand up when he speaks.

RICHARD
And I am the incomparable Richard Alstram.

He says no more. Finally, GRIMLY, the last man at the table speaks. He is an old, frail man with a long white beard, but a twinkle in his eye. He carries a cane, which he uses to steady himself as he stands. Though he is German, there is almost no hint of an accent to his speech.

GRIMLY
There was once a small child, no older than the age of nine, who took part in a city-wide talent show in Berlin. Now, this boy-

BARANBULL
(interrupting)
Mr. Grimly, your storytelling is what brought you here, yes, but there is still much to do. I would appreciate it if you would keep your introduction brief.

GRIMLY
Of course, of course! I do tend to get carried away sometimes, my apologies. The name's Grimly, Cornelius Grimly. Not my birth name, but as a storyteller I believe in the importance of a memorable name. You see, on one of my travels in-

Baranbull clears his throat, and Grimly gets the message. Finally, Baranbull turns and indicates Layla, who is still seated at the head table.

BARANBULL
And this is my personal assistant, Layla Trovell.

LAYLA
I am also the head maid. If you need anything or have any complaints, come to me first.

ARCHIE
(under his breath)
Oh, I'll come to you first, alright...

LAYLA
What was that, Master Wilson?

ARCHIE
Nothing.

BARANBULL
Well! Now that we're all so well acquainted, I shall show you the reason you are here. But first, let's eat!

Fade to:

INT. HALLWAY - EVENING

The huge double doors leading to the dining hall open, and BARANBULL and LAYLA appear, leading the rest of the characters. They take a few turns, navigating the Inn's interlocking hallways, before coming to a stop in front of a beautiful silver door. It is recessed into the wall at the end of a short hallway.

BARANBULL
And now, it’s time for you all to see what you have been waiting to see!

Baranbull throws open the silver door, and the group is instantly bathed in a blinding white light.

WORLD ROOM

The glare fades quickly, and suddenly the GROUP is standing in... nothing. That's the only way to describe it. Nothingness stretches in all directions: up, down, left, right, as far as the eye can see, the world has become a blank slate, save only for the silver door still standing lonely behind them.

BARANBULL
This is a World. Or at least the possibility of one. It’s blank right now, but you can give it life.

KAMERLA
How?

BARANBULL
Why, by using the skills that brought you here in the first place! I’m sure you noticed during introductions that each one of you is an artist of some sort. Mr. Alstram is a pianist, Bradford here writes, Warren sculpts, Ms. Isadro paints, Archibald has mastered the pen and ink, and Mr. Grimly’s stories are second to none.

ARCHIE raises his hand.

BARANBULL (CONT)
Yes, Master Wilson? And, by the way, feel free to just shout things out; no need for formalities among friends!

ARCHIE
First of all, it's Archie. Got it? The next person to call me Archibald gets a shoe in their mouth. I mean it. I will throw my shoe. Second, since when are we friends? I just met you.

BARANBULL
Ah, but Archie, my good boy, I’ve been watching you for quite some time. I have hand-selected each of you as the masters of your trade, and that required quite a bit of research - and observation - on my part. As a result, I feel like I’ve known you all since childhood!

Baranbull claps his hands together and grins wide, as if there was nothing at all creepy about his last statement.

BARANBULL (CONT)
Now, everyone, how about we start the demonstration? Master Fox, if you would please step forward.

WARREN does so, and looks around nervously. He is obviously unsure of what is expected of him.

BARANBULL (CONT)
Here in the World Room, anything is possible. If you ask for what you need, you will get it. All you have to do is concentrate.

He holds out his hand, and a second later, a lump of gray modeling clay materializes out of thin air in his hand. He hands the clay to Warren.

WARREN
And what, good Innmaster, am I supposed to do with this?

BARANBULL
Why, mold it, of course! Figure out the basis of the world we are about to create. Use your imagination.

Warren does so, quickly shaping the clay into the shape of a planet with a single large mountain on top of it.

BARANBULL
Perfect! But... no moon?

Warren breaks off the tip of the mountain and rolls it into a ball. He holds it a distance away from his creation, and suddenly it jumps into the air, orbiting around the planet of its own will.

BARANBULL
Excellent, most excellent! You see, he thought of it as a moon, and a moon it became. Now, if you would please, Master Fox, let go of the planet and allow Ms. Isadro her turn.

WARREN
But... it will fall.

BARANBULL
Nonsense! So long as you want it to stay there, it will! That is the power of the World Room, my friend.

Warren cautiously lets go of the planet, and sure enough, it hovers in midair, the moon still in perfect orbit. KAMERLA steps forward and raises her arm. A paintbrush instantly appears in her hand.

BARANBULL (CONT)
My expectations of you have not failed, Ms. Isadro.

Kamerla proceeds to hastily paint the planet, the paint on her brush changing color at her whim. The blue she uses for the oceans leaps off the bristles and becomes water. She paints the trees green, the moon burgundy, and the mountain brown. Finally, white paint dances off her brush and turns to snow as it touches the top of the mountain.

BARANBULL
Thank you, Kamerla. Mr. Wilson, if you could perhaps bring us some creatures to live on this planet?

ARCHIE
So, what, I just take a pen to it and draw whatever I like?

As he says the word "pen", a pen materializes in his hand, making him jump.

BARANBULL
That is all, indeed. If you wish to have a larger canvas, then simply draw on the World Room itself.

ARCHIE
Yeah, alright.

After a short pause, Archie begins to draw in midair. He sketches a multitude of creatures: a saber-tooth tiger, a shark, a whale, a hummingbird, and a bizarre creature that resembles a pie with four legs. Finally, he draws figures, creating quick caricatures of everyone in the room, spending a little extra time on Layla's.

ARCHIE
Alright. How do I get them where I want?

BARANBULL
That will be the next part. Master Alstram, you have quite possibly the most important role in this demonstration. It is only through music that we can truly give our creations life. Would you play for us?

RICHARD
But of course.

RICHARD distances himself from the group, and a grand piano appears out of thin air in front of him. He sits and begins to play an improvised piece. As he does, the figures that Archie has drawn seem to sway with the music, moving back and forth of their own volition. They soon begin to gain life, looking around and moving as they should. As Richard finishes with a flourish, they leap into the air and land on the floating planet, shrinking to fit. The music has stopped, but the creatures continue to move across the planet's surface.

BARANBULL
Bravo, my good man, bravo!

Baranbull gives Richard a round of applause, and the others, barring Archie, do as well. Richard stands and bows, then retreats to the group, the piano vanishing.

BARANBULL (CONT)
Now... Cornelius Grimly. I have waited a long time to hear a story straight from your mouth. Please, tell us the story of this world. But give it more than life; give it civilization.

GRIMLY hobbles forward on his cane.

GRIMLY
Of course I will, of course I will. No need to remain standing, I insist.

Seven chairs materialize. The group takes their seats as Grimly clears his throat.

GRIMLY (CONT)
Once upon a time, on the great world of Fiora, there lived a beautiful and benevolent goddess. Known as "The Enlightened," she lived atop the Mountain of Deception, and divided up Fiora's many islands among her worshippers.

The Layla caricature takes its place on the top of the mountain.

GRIMLY (CONT)
For a time, everything was peaceful. But there was one man who was not content with just having his own island to rule over. That man was none other than King Archibald Wilson!

Everyone turns to look at Archie, who bends down and begins untying his shoe. Warren, who is to Archie's left, snatches the shoe out of Archie's hand, shaking his head sternly. Grimly continues, oblivious.

GRIMLY (CONT)
King Archibald loaded up a ship full of soldiers and sent them to the nearest island, that of the great Queen, Kamerla Isadro. The battles were devastating, the war fierce. At the end, there was no clear victor.

As he speaks, Archie's caricatures act out the story; the Archie figure is indeed leading an army of tiny men in battle against Kamerla's likeness.

GRIMLY (CONT)
As the war raged on, the cunning General Warren Fox saw his opportunity. General Fox easily conquered the two weakened countries and stole the throne from both King Archibald and Queen Kamerla. But then The Enlightened, despite all her wisdom, fell into a rage. She was a being of peace and harmony, and could not understand why her subjects were not. In her one moment of anger, The Enlightened cast her arms towards the ocean from atop her mountain. Wave after wave of water blasted across the globe, destroying the armies and reducing the habitable land to almost nothing.

Grimly has begun pacing back and forth, and the planet behind him is undergoing the changes he describes.

GRIMLY (CONT)
But all was not lost. No, there was one man, wise in his old age, who made a trip across the vast ocean to the Mountain of Deception.

The Grimly caricature begins paddling a tiny rowboat towards the mountain.

GRIMLY (CONT)
He made it to the Mountain of Deception, whose vertical walls and rocky terrain would cause those with all but the strongest wills to return home. And yet, he climbed that mountain tirelessly for five days and five nights until he stood before The Enlightened. The goddess was shocked; in her rage at humanity as a whole, she had overlooked this one, small, tiny human life that had tried so hard, braved the perilous storms, and climbed the Mountain of Deception, all to meet her. The old man collapsed at her feet, dead from the effort. The Enlightened was so touched that she reversed the storm. The waters receded, but that was not all. The Enlightened decided that, in order for humans to coexist peacefully, they must live together under one land and banner, and not several. The water continued to pull back from the land until, opposite of the mountain, a single continent spanned the hemisphere. Humanity restarted; war eventually followed, but this time, The Enlightened let it happen. A few more centuries passed, and finally her dream of having a united world came true. They all flew the same banner, and though it happened through bloodshed rather than talks of peace, the whole of Fiora was stable and happy. The end.

Grimly bows and strolls back to the group. An eighth chair appears as he makes to sit down. He crosses his legs triumphantly.

BARANBULL
Impressive! And you made that up on the spot? Just look at what it has done to the world! But, sadly, the final phase of creation is destruction. Mr. Brown, as you are the only one left...

BRADFORD
I suppose you'll leave me with the job of taking apart what the others have worked so hard to create, then?

BARANBULL
My apologies if you were expecting differently, Mr. Brown. If you wish to create rather than destroy, then by all means, you are the guest here.

BRADFORD
It's fine.

Bradford remains sitting, but summons a pen to his hand. He begins to write in midair, the words remaining for only a moment before disappearing. As he writes, the moon circling the planet starts to speed up. Faster and faster it moves, until it violently crashes into the planet, shattering the Mountain of Deception and causing a tidal wave to wipe out most of the large continent before the water dries up completely. The planet starts to shake vigorously, and finally crumbles away into nothingness. There is a solemn silence for a moment, then Baranbull clears his throat.

BARANBULL
Very good, Mr. Brown. I imagine you are all in a bit of shock right now. I would recommend you get a good night's rest. You will begin work on a full-size world tomorrow. Layla, if you would please show our guests out?

LAYLA
Of course, Mr. Baranbull.

LAYLA motions for the group to follow her through the door.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

With a flash of light, LAYLA, BARANBULL and the ARTISTS are once again standing in the hallway of the Create Inn.

LAYLA
Now, the hour is late; you should all be off to bed. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow.

She claps twice, and a group of five MAIDS appear from around the corner, each dressed in a simple black skirt and white top, and a white lace hairpiece with a fanciful "CI" embroidered on it in black.

LAYLA
Each maid has a numbered room key. That will be your room for the duration of your stay with us. You'll find your things already there. Have a good night.

The maids single out their targets and bow to them, holding out a pillow with a golden key on it. The guests are led away one by one, until ARCHIE is left standing awkwardly in front of his hosts.

ARCHIE
So, uh, does this mean I get Layla?

Layla glares at him. A sixth MAID, younger than the others, her auburn hair slightly disheveled and her glasses crooked, rushes into view around the corner, stops short at the sight of Baranbull, and drops the pillow and key onto the carpet. She bends down hurriedly to pick them up, causing her glasses to fall off; her head collides with the wall as she attempts to find them. She fumbles around for a moment before standing up, straightening her hairpiece, and bowing ungainly to Archie, holding out the pillow to him at an angle. The key slides sideways and onto the floor, followed quickly by her glasses.

ARCHIE
Uh... hi.

He bends down to pick up the key and the glasses.

LAYLA
Robin! This is the last straw! I’m done giving you second chances; you’re to show Mr. Wilson to his room, explain the schedule one last time, and then retire to your own room and pack your things.

ROBIN'S eyes are welling up despite her efforts to keep her composure.

ROBIN
I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, just one more chance. This is all I know how to do.

LAYLA
Archie, I apologize, but you’ll be getting a new maid in the morning.

Archie looks hard at Robin as we flash back to:

INT. NANA'S HOUSE - DAY

A young ARCHIE, carrying a satchel, is entering through the door. The house is quaint, much as you'd expect an old lady's home to be. Archie's NANA calls from the kitchen.

NANA (OS)
Archie? That you?

ARCHIE
Yes, Nana. Smells like eggplant parm.

NANA (OS)
You've got a nose like a shark, you do.

Nana enters from the kitchen, drying her hands with a towel.

GRANDMOTHER
Go ahead and wash up and you can help me with the salad. How was school?

ARCHIE
Oh, you know. Schoolish.

He throws his satchel onto a coffee table. It opens and its contents - pens, paper, and ink - spill everywhere.

NANA
Archie. Is that what I think it is?

ARCHIE
It's... it's for a project. For school.

NANA
You're drawing again, aren't you? How many times have I told you to give that up? I'm done giving you second chances! Art will get you nowhere in this world, nowhere! You need to focus on your studies, not this... this trivial hobby!

She snatches the drawings and supplies off the table and dumps them in a wastebasket.

NANA (CONT)
Now. Wash your hands. Come on. Dinner's not going to make itself.

The scene fades back to:

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

LAYLA
Go on. Your bags aren't going to pack themselves.

ARCHIE
Actually, I'd like to keep her as my maid.

LAYLA
I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Wilson, but I'm afraid that's not your choice.

ARCHIE
I believe it is. She’s my personal maid, right? She won’t be doing anything around the Inn other than me, will she? ...God, that came out wrong.

LAYLA
Well no, but...

BARANBULL
Layla, I understand where you’re coming from, but if Master Wilson wishes to keep Ms. Robin as his maid, you should relent. We are an Inn, after all, and it’s our job to keep our guests happy.

LAYLA is clearly not happy with these proceedings, but she grumbles her assent. ARCHIE hands ROBIN back her glasses.

ARCHIE
C'mon kid, show me to my room.

ROBIN
Yes, sir, Master Archibald, sir! Follow me!

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

ROBIN and ARCHIE stroll into view around a corner. She is rattling off the schedule, but Archie is barely paying attention.

ROBIN
Lunch is at one. Dinner is six to eight, and the World Room closes at ten. The kitchen, rec room, and all other facilities are open until eleven, and you are required to be inside your room by midnight. Breaking curfew is strictly forbidden.

They come to a stop in front of an oak door with a large "2" emblazoned on it.

ROBIN
And here's your room, Master Archibald.

ARCHIE
One second, Robin, let’s get something straight first. My name is Archie, okay? Not "Archibald." I don’t understand why people insist on calling me that.

ROBIN
Well, I was instructed to address you as Master Archibald... Master Archibald.

ARCHIE
I realize that, and I'm changing my legal name the second I get home. Actually, that won't be all I'll be changing, thanks to your damn stalker of an Innmaster. Please, just... call me Archie, okay?

Archie opens his door and steps into his room, but stops short, teetering on the edge of the doorframe. The room beyond is simply not there. The door leads out to a precipitous drop-off into the Mediterranean Sea. Robin grabs hold of Archie's collar and pulls him back into the hallway.

ARCHIE
THAT'S my room? Is this your idea of a joke? If you want me to go home that badly, all you have to do is ask!

ROBIN
No, I... I don't know. I was told... um... I'm gonna get Layla.

She dashes off down the hall. Archie continues to stare at the doorway as the door across the hall opens. WARREN peeks his head out.

WARREN
What the heck is all the ruckus?

ARCHIE
Oh, nothing. The Inn is trying to kill me, apparently. That's all.

WARREN
Er... good to know. Hey, nice drawing of me in there. You've got a knack for faces.

ARCHIE
Yeah.

WARREN
So let me ask you, what's your take on this whole thing?

ARCHIE
What do you mean?

WARREN
We just literally brought a new world into existence. You've got to have some feelings about that.

ARCHIE
Oh... yeah. That was cool.

WARREN
That's it?

ARCHIE
Well, what do you want me to say?

WARREN
I don't know. I guess I'm concerned about how easy it was. In the course of half an hour, we created a world, gave it a history, and then erased it from existence. A living world with living beings on it. That's kind of... chilling, don't you think?

ARCHIE
You're overreacting. Those things I drew weren't living. Sure, they seemed alive, but they were just following the old man's story.

WARREN
Man, I'm not so sure...

At this point, Robin rounds the corner again, leading LAYLA and BARANBULL. She shows them the door; Baranbull sticks his head out and looks around. After a moment, he shuts the door, looking worried. His tone when he speaks is, for the first time, not quite as jovial.

BARANBULL
Layla, let's put Master Wilson in room number seven for now. Go to bed, Master Fox, you're expected to be up bright and early tomorrow.

Warren nods curtly, and goes back into his room. Baranbull, Layla, and Robin lead Archie to Room 7 without a word. Layla opens the door and ushers Archie in.

LAYLA
This is only temporary, you'll be in your real room as soon as possible. Good night.

Before Archie can say a thing, the door is shut on his face. He puts his ear to the door, and we hear:

LAYLA (OS)
I don't understand it. How could it happen again?

Fade to:

INT. DINING HALL - MORNING

The dining hall looks much the same as it did the day before, though a host of breakfast foods is now set out on the two tables, instead of dinner. WARREN, BRADFORD, KAMERLA, and RICHARD are already seated, chatting and starting their meals, when ARCHIE staggers in, unshaven and barely dressed.

WARREN
Morning, sunshine.

ARCHIE
It is way too early to be up right now.

RICHARD
And apparently too early to be decent...

Archie either doesn't hear, or chooses not to. He takes a seat at the table and starts digging into the food. The others resume their conversation.

KAMERLA
I'm just saying, for all we know, that could be us. Imagine if God played with us like that.

BRADFORD
I wouldn't call it playing, per se. It was merely a demonstration.

KAMERLA
You get my point.

BRADFORD
I do, but there is a large difference between us and Mr. Wilson's representations of us. They weren't really living, they were... representing the story that Mr. Grimly was telling.

Archie gives Warren a pointed look.

WARREN
Not to change the subject so abruptly, but does anyone wonder what this Baranbull guy's deal is?

ARCHIE
What do you mean?

WARREN
I mean, we’re not paying to be here, so he’s not making a profit. And how does he benefit from the creation of a world?

ARCHIE
He's eccentric. Come on, he built an enormous mansion on an uncharted island. I'm not putting anything past him.

While this exchange is going on, the door opens and GRIMLY shuffles through.

GRIMLY
Master Fox raises an interesting point. Though the question really isn’t WHY Mr. Baranbull brought us here, it’s why Mr. Baranbull has brought US here. He has not opened the Inn to the public, but rather kept it a secret and only invited a select few. So why us?

RICHARD
Well, I believe everyone knows why I’m here. But the rest of you... aside from Mr. Brown, whose novels I have perused at length, I had never heard of any of you until yesterday.

ARCHIE
I still say he's just nuts.

The conversation comes to a forced close as the great doors open again and BARANBULL enters.

BARANBULL
Good morning, everyone! I trust you all slept well. Much to do today, much indeed. But don't let me keep you from your breakfast. Eat up, eat up!

Fade to:

WORLD ROOM

The ARTISTS are at work on the first draft of their new world. Everything is helter-skelter as they all work on different parts of the world. KAMERLA is busy painting a rosebush, while ARCHIE draws a two-headed dog. RICHARD and GRIMLY are conversing, BRADFORD is scribbling words in mid-air, causing the ground to shift beneath his feet, and WARREN is sculpting a figure with a hammer and chisel. Archie finishes his work and calls to Richard.

ARCHIE
Hey, Dick. Mind playing for my dog?

RICHARD
I told you last time, it's Richard, not Dick.

ARCHIE
Yeah, whatever. You gonna play or not? I want to see this thing fetch.

The silver door opens and LAYLA pokes her head into the World Room.

LAYLA
Master Wilson.

She signals for him to join her. Archie drops his pen, which disappears.

ARCHIE
That thing better be barking in harmony by the time I get back, Dick.

He hurries to the door.

ARCHIE
Yes, m'lady, what can I do for you?

LAYLA
Drop the act. Your room is ready.

The two disappear through the doorway. A scowling Richard walks over to Archie's dog, summons a pen to his hand, and scribbles a mustache on both its faces.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

LAYLA and ROBIN are leading ARCHIE down the hall.

ARCHIE
Layla, question.

LAYLA
What?

ARCHIE
If we can just summon pens and paintbrushes in the World Room, why do we have to draw everything else? Couldn't I just think of a table and make it appear?

LAYLA
According to Baranbull, the World Room "doesn't work without creativity". But the technical answer is, those objects that you summon are real only to you, and they disappear when you're done. Next time you're in there, try handing your pen to someone. They won't be able to touch it. But anything that you draw, sculpt, or otherwise physically create is real. It requires some tangible degree of energy to create something physically real.

Archie just nods in response as they approach door number 2. Robin opens the door.

ROBIN
Alright, Master Archibald, here you go!

Archie's eye twitches at the name, but he lets it go, more intent on examining his room. It is richly decorated, just like the rest of the mansion, but otherwise looks like an extravagant hotel room.

ARCHIE
It's just... back?

ROBIN
Yep!

ARCHIE
And all my stuff's here?

ROBIN
Your suitcase is in the closet.

ARCHIE
Right. No offense, but I think I'd rather move back to room seven. Call me paranoid, but the thought of sleeping in a room that has a tendency to disappear doesn't thrill me all that much.

LAYLA
It's nothing to worry about. Just a World Room malfunction. The problem's been taken care of.

ARCHIE
World Room malfunction? The World Room's all the way down the hall!

LAYLA
Not entirely.

She points to a curtain on one of the walls. Archie draws the curtain back to reveal a silver door, identical to the World Room entrance.

ROBIN
All the rooms have an entrance to the World Room, for easy access to different areas of the World, once it starts taking shape.

ARCHIE
Cool.

He opens the door and looks through it.

WORLD ROOM

ARCHIE's head appears through the silver door. The ARTISTS and their creations from before are nowhere to be seen. As his head disappears back through the door, the scene shifts to the other end of the World Room, where the artists are still working. The man WARREN has been sculpting is taking shape, and looks like an actual person now. He motions for RICHARD to join him, and the pianist complies.

WARREN
I think he's ready, what do you think?

RICHARD
Looks fine to me.

Richard's piano appears and he sits and plays. Within moments, the sculpted man begins to look around at his surroundings much as a human would. Archie's dog also comes to life. KAMERLA looks over at the sound of the music and walks to Warren's side. She gives the sculpture an approving once-over.

KAMERLA
Nice handiwork.

WARREN AND SCULPTURE
Thank you.

Both Warren and his sculpture answer Kamerla at the same time, causing the three artists to stop short.

KAMERLA
Um... hello?

SCULPTURE
Hello.

Kamerla and Warren glance at each other.

WARREN
Er... what's your name?

SCULPTURE
Name? Hmm... I am not sure.

RICHARD
(whispered to Warren)
Is your statue... talking?

WARREN
Well, I suppose you did give him life.

RICHARD
But it's not just talking, it's interacting with us.

KAMERLA
I think I'll call you John. How does that name sound?

SCULPTURE
John. John... John. My name is John.

BRADFORD and GRIMLY have noticed what is happening. Bradford strolls up to the statue and extends his hand.

BRADFORD
A pleasure to meet you, John.

John looks inquisitively at Bradford's outstretched hand.

BRADFORD (CONT)
It's called a handshake, like this.

He demonstrates by shaking Grimly's hand, then holds his hand out to the statue again. John imitates the handshake, and Bradford winces. He pulls away from John's grip.

BRADFORD
Well, he's definitely still made of stone.

John has begun to walk around, examing the artists' creations about the World Room. He stoops and pets Archie's two-headed, mustachioed dog.

RICHARD
This is getting unnerving, Mr. Fox.

WARREN
He... he can't be sentient. He just can't. That's not possible.

GRIMLY
We're currently creating a whole new world simply by thinking about it. I'd say anything's possible right now.

KAMERLA
Well, it's starting to freak me out.

WARREN
Me too. Bradford, could you do that thing you did to the planet yesterday? You know, write him away?

BRADFORD
Sure.

Bradford's pen appears in his hand, and he begins to scribble in midair. Just like the planet from the day before, John begins to shake violently.

JOHN
What... what?

John turns to look at Bradford and the other artists, and looks genuinely shocked and sad, as if he realizes what is happening.

JOHN (CONT)
N... no!

The artists exchange looks. Kamerla almost raises a hand to stop Bradford, but reconsiders and lets him continue.

JOHN (CONT)
But... no! Please!

As John begins to crumble into nonexistence, he lets out a blood-curdling scream that makes Bradford pause. The statue is left in limbo long enough to look sadly at his creator before Bradford finishes, and John is no more. There is a long silence.

WARREN
Bradford... did you write that he would scream while that happened?

BRADFORD
No.

WARREN
Didn't think so.

The artists continue to stare at the spot where John had vanished from, the two-headed dog running circles around them.

Fade to:

WORLD ROOM

ARCHIE re-enters the World Room. The other ARTISTS are standing around, talking. The mood is palpably somber.

ARCHIE
Wow, did I miss a funeral or something?

WARREN
You could say that.

ARCHIE
Alright, seriously, what did I miss? Who died?

KAMERLA
His name was John.

ARCHIE
(highly confused)
Who the hell is John?

GRIMLY
WAS John. He was Master Fox's sculpture.

ARCHIE
And Warren's sculpture... died.

RICHARD
Pretty much.

ARCHIE
Right. Okay, everyone's gone off the deep end. That didn't take long.

The two-headed dog comes running up to Archie.

ARCHIE (CONT)
Hey! There's a good b... what the heck is on your face... er, faces?

INT. BARANBULL'S OFFICE - DAY

BARANBULL is sitting at his desk, reading over a piece of paper. His office is surprisingly bland, considering the showiness of the rest of the Inn. There is a knock on the door, and Baranbull looks up.

BARANBULL
Yes, come in!

The door opens, and the ARTISTS stream in, KAMERLA leading the pack.

KAMERLA
We want out.

BARANBULL
What?

KAMERLA
We talked it over, and we want out. Send us home.

BARANBULL
Send you home? But why? What happened?

RICHARD
What you're having us do here is completely immoral. You have enabled me the ability to grant life to whatever I choose, an ability previously held only by God.

BRADFORD
Even I have to admit, it's not right.

Baranbull looks contemplative for a moment, then sighs.

BARANBULL
Well, if you don't appreciate the opportunity I am allowing you, then certainly, you are all welcome to go home. I'll get the yacht ready.

ARCHIE
Hold on a minute, they don't speak for me. I'm staying.

BARANBULL
I'm afraid it's all or none, Master Wilson. Your creations will not have color without a painter, nor life without music. Either everyone stays, or everyone goes.

ARCHIE is speechless. He stares at Baranbull, and we suddenly flash back on Archie's life in the U.S. We see a montage of the terrible things that have happened to him - his father's death in a car crash; his mother's death a few months later; getting laid off from his job; bills piling up; buyers refusing to purchase his artwork. The flashback ends, and Archie shouts.

ARCHIE
No!

The other artists stare at him. Baranbull smirks.

ARCHIE (CONT)
I can't leave here. I just can't. Please. I beg you all to reconsider. Think of the opportunities. I'm sure that statue wasn't really alive. You were able to talk with it because that's how Warren wanted it to be! That's how the World Room works - you think of a ball of clay as a moon, and it starts to orbit, remember? Please!

GRIMLY
I am sorry, Master Archibald, but I simply cannot condone what we are doing here. You were not there to hear how John screamed as he disappeared. It was quite unsettling.

Archie is in a daze. He looks from Warren, to Grimly, to each artist in turn, and finally looks to Baranbull, pleading with his eyes.

BARANBULL
It seems Master Wilson has a strong desire to stay, but as I said, it is all or none. There must be a consensus.

WARREN
I can't do it. We are playing God with sentient beings. That goes against the very fabric of nature.

BARANBULL
That assumes that you are creating sentient life.

RICHARD
Innmaster, with all respect, you weren't there. I can safely say that we are creating sentient life.

BARANBULL
No no, you misunderstand me. I am not debating that point with you. I am merely suggesting that should you not wish to create sentient life, you simply do not. It is your world, after all. Morals, just like landscape and history, can be determined as you see fit.

This answer seems satisfactory to most of the artists; they start reluctantly nodding and assenting. Archie looks immensely relieved.

BARANBULL (CONT)
Now, if you would please excuse me, I am a very busy man. Back to work, for all of us!

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Mon May 21, 2012 11:14 pm

By the by, I absolutely hate the first flashback scene (with Archie's grandmother). It feels contrived to me, but it was done to fulfill a requirement.

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by Rust on Tue May 22, 2012 12:20 am

Perhaps you can go back and change it?

Hell, I'd love to see this in theaters, Or at least a film festival. Somewhere with a screen.
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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Tue May 22, 2012 2:44 am

Rust wrote:Perhaps you can go back and change it?

Oh yeah, if I continue the script (I really should, shouldn't I?), I would change it somehow. I was just pointing it out, as I posted it as-is.

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by Rust on Tue May 22, 2012 2:46 am

Yar. And yes, you really should. I'm sure someone would eat that script and spit out a great movie :<

Or a mediocre movie...

Or... a crappy... movie...

Eww, Hollywood
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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Tue May 22, 2012 3:21 am

I would honestly be terrified to try and sell this as a script. It would be butchered (all major movie scripts are).

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Tue May 22, 2012 11:58 pm

Figured I'd post this here, as well. I never got around to making a banner for Create Inn (I made a logo, which is up in the forum banner, but that was it). So, I made one.


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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by Rust on Tue May 22, 2012 11:59 pm

Become the mother of my children.
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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Wed May 23, 2012 12:12 am

I'm already having Amano's, though...

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by Rust on Wed May 23, 2012 12:22 am

Me first D=<

Though, really. We should continue this.
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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Wed May 23, 2012 12:51 am

I agree. I'll talk with you later tonight about where it might be headed.

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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by Rust on Wed May 23, 2012 12:52 am

I'll be in bed at ten, but yeah, we definitely need to talk.
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Re: Create Inn (script)

Post by BSmith on Wed May 23, 2012 2:53 am

Yeah, work kinda kept me off Facebook, but we'll talk tomorrow.

Also, I updated the banner. Added some smudges on the subtitle, flipped the World Room portal upside-down so it looks like a reflection, and added a silhouette next to it. I like it.

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