———–<.thom.>———–

THE GREAT WORKS PROJECT
a puppet play in many parts

Season 06, Episode 03

By Thomas Typewriter

(c) 2024 thomas typewriter

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FADE INTO BLACK

From the bottom of the screen scrolls up the following text: “06-03”. It moves upwards, pausing a moment in the center of the frame, then continues upward, exiting the frame at the top edge.

FADE OUT
FADE IN

TRANSITION TO THE TYPEWRITER ABSTRACT PUPPET STAGE.

In the darkness, the sound of TYPEWRITER KEYS CLICK CLACKING sings out from somewhere nearby yet out of sight. Shortly thereafter the TYPEWRITER ABSTRACT PUPPET STAGE materializes.

LS OF THE TYPEWRITER PUPPET STAGE MOVING TO A MS THROUGH A SERIES OF CUTS UTILIZING A CRYSTALLINE EFFECT.

TRANSITION FROM THE TYPEWRITER ABSTRACT PUPPET STAGE TO THE MID-STAGE

PAN IN ON MID-STAGE AREA OF THE TYPEWRITER ABSTRACT PUPPET STAGE UNTIL MID-STAGE IS PROPERLY FRAMED.

MID-STAGE: CURTAINS CLOSED
The Mid-Stage curtains stand closed. After a moment they open. The stage-lights turn on with the sound of A LIGHT SWITCH CLICKING ON revealing…

MID-STAGE: INT. THOMAS TYPEWRITER’S APARTMENT FRONT ROOM, DAYTIME
A writing desk sits center stage. In the background, on the stage-right side, sits a short bookcase. The desk has two moving boxes stacked on top of it. The bottom box is labeled “Typewriter”. The top box is labeled “Papers, Scripts, Misc…” The bookcase is nearly empty with only some books remaining on one of the shelves. THOMAS TYPEWRITER is standing by the bookcase with books and loading them into a moving box. He loads the last books, puts on the lid, and writes “Books” on the side of the box with a marker from his pocket. He stands and looks around the apartment.

THOMAS TYPEWRITER
“We gave it a good try didn’t we. Going to miss you.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He dials into the phone. It RINGS and RINGS before being picked up.

THOMAS TYPEWRITER
“Hi. May I speak to Ophidia please. Oh, hi Ophidia. How are you today? Good. Oh, just finishing packing the last bits of my apartment. You? Cool, cool. So, I thought over what you asked, you know about me helping and working on your project. I have an answer.”

TRANSITION FROM MID-STAGE TO HIGH-STAGE

THE CAMERA PANS UPWARD. IT MOVES UP GLIDING OVER THE MID-STAGE SETS TO THE CURTAIN OF CLOUDS BEHIND. IT FOLLOWS THE CURTAIN OF CLOUDS MOVING UPWARD HIGHER AND HIGHER. IT REACHES THE TOP OF THE CURTAIN OF CLOUDS AND SLIDES TO THE HIGH-STAGE AT THE TOP OF THE CURTAIN OF CLOUDS. IT RESTS WHEN PROPERLY FRAMING HIGH-STAGE.

HIGH-STAGE: CURTAINS CLOSED
The High-stage curtains are closed for a moment but then start to part. As they are nearly fully open the stage-lights turn on with the sound of A COMPUTER BOOTING ON revealing…

HIGH-STAGE: INT. PANACEA FLAUTO’S OFFICE ON THE FLUTE MEDICALSHIP, DAYTIME
Panacea’s office is a desk sitting in the middle of the stage with the back walls lined by filing cabinets of various heights. On top of each filing cabinet are multiple stacks of books and papers. Crammed between the stacks of books, in any open spaces are various rolled up medical charts, boxes, and medical equipment. There is one succulent emerging from the filing cabinets on the stage-left, its long leaves dropping out causing a splash of color in the office. Panacea’s desk is a large metal affair, covered in stacks of medical charts and paperwork. Two spare Med-scanners sit on the side of the desk amidst a collection of empty coffee cups. PANACEA FLAUTO sits at her desk eating a salad. She has a small black and white Vid-screen, in an antiquated case, sitting on top of the files in one of the pulled out filing cabinet drawers. She is watching the latest episode of “Soapbubbles Medical Theatre” on Channel Four, The Dog House.

SOAPBUBBLES MEDICAL THEATRE EPISODE #06081938
It is a weekly show that presents a different radio play preformed by the Doctors and Nurses of an operation room. The audience sits up in the observation gallery. Each episode is hosted by a gravelly yet soothing voiced mostly bio-goblin ORSON WELLWISHER.

THE LOGO FILLS THE SCREEN THEN FADES AWAY

ORSON WELLWISHER
(voice over) “Broadcasting live from The Caducean Mystery Hospital in the heart of the Eighth Hill, this is your host Orson Wellwisher.

CUT TO MS OF THE OPERATING TABLE.

A series of nurses and Doctors are around the table. A patient sits on the operating table, mouth covered by a breathing machine. The closest doctor, Orson Wellwisher, turns and looks at the camera.

CUT TO CS OF ORSON

ORSON WELLWISHER
“Today, we find ourselves caught in a tale of intrigue, deception, mistaken identities and a well-mixed martini in Soapbubble Operating Theatre presentation of THE THIRD THIN MAN with tonight’s special guests…

CUT TO CS OF WILLIAM P. J. COTTONGIN

William P. J. Cotton-Gin stands across the operating table from Orson. He is a tall angular mostly-clockwork elf that takes off his medical mask and smiles into the camera.

ORSON WELLWISHER
(voice-over) “…William P. J. Cottongin,…”

William nods at the camera and then puts his mask back on.

ORSON WELLWISHER
“And Myna Bird Loy”

CUT TO CS OF MYNA BIRD LOY

Myna Bird Loy is one of the nurses carrying a tray of surgical tools to the operating table. She is a thin avian mostly bio-goblin. She looks up as if caught unaware and smiles for the camera. Panacea watches the show, half turned towards the vid-screen while also half turned towards her salad. She sets down her salad so she can hold the microphone from her Med-Scanner.

PANACEA FLAUTO
(Narration or voice over) “Maestro, update Medical Journal, starting now. The most unusual thing happened the other day. Cedar Waxwings stopped by my office to discuss his treatment. Up to that point he and his friends were giving the minimal effort in their therapy sessions. Iasa and I had a meeting planned later to discuss options for increasing their participation. Confidentially, I wonder if maybe I do not understand their situation, emotionally. Iasa advocates for patience, but I do not. Sometimes I am envious of her patience and good-nature. (pause) Maestro edit entry. Strike everything after the bit with the meeting and participation.”

There is a KNOCK on the door.

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Hello.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
(off-screen) “Can I come in? Are you busy.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Come in, come in. I was just eating some lunch before some meetings this afternoon.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS in his ovoid Medi-pod rolls into the room, bumping into the chairs. Panacea turns to watch him enter. She misses a change on the Vid-screen. From the background of the operating room, THE SLASHBUCKLER, THE WORDSLINGER, and THE HEIRESS come into view. The Slashbuckler is a slender woman in black medical scrubs covered in gold filligree. Next to her stands The Wordslinger in white medical scrubs covered in brass filligree. Next to him stands the Heiress. She is dressed in black medical scrubs covered in silver filligree while holding a Fennec Fox dressed in matching medical scrubs. They attempt to wave at the screen to get the viewers attention.

PANACEA FLAUTO
“What can I do for you.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“I have a simple question.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Okay. I can deal with simple. What is your question?”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Will I be able to play the drums again, once we’re done healing.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Well…”

On the Vid-Screen, The Slashbuckler, The Wordslinger, and the Heiress freeze as a deep red outline encases them. A single diamond red design appears in the corner of the screen and blinks twice. They dissolve to static before dissapearing completely. The red diamond dissolves from the screen and the show resumes.

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Be honest.”

Panacea sets down her salad and turns back to the Vid-Screen. She presses a button on the side and it goes dark. She turns back and directly looks at Cedar.

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Given the amount of effort you are giving. No. You are not doing the therapy and you will be crippled when you exit the Medi-pod.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“No drumming then.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Drumming? You’ll lucky to be able stand without pain. Every step you take will be crooked and painful.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“I secretly suspected as much.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“So why are you not trying harder. Why are you resisting.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Fear. Misplaced anger. Dumb reasons.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Listen, I get it. When you first woke up, I didn’t want to alarm you or freak you. But honestly, you guys were in a spaceship that blew up. Who should be dead, but your not grasping what a miracle it is that you can try.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Your right we should be dead, but we are not and it has messed with my head. You are also right that I have not been dedicated or even really trying. It’s not you or your sisters.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Well what is it? My sister and I are trying our best to heal you and you are throwing it back in our faces. We’re trained to distance ourselves emotionally, but still it stings.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“I get that and I am sorry. It’s me. I am the problem.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Finally we agree on something.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Ouch. But your probably not wrong. I find myself wondering if I have been lying to myself. The problem was other people, the job, my father. If only they did this or that, my life would be better. Not my fault I quit everything I ever tried. I put it on them, yet here I am in this eggshell finding myself never have having dedicated to anything. A life of drifting. I wasn’t qualified for the Solar/Lunar Fleet except my dad pulling the strings. Only got the job, kept the job, because of my dad. How sad is that.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Pretty sad, but not that unusual. You think your the first person to come into my office and saw oh no, what have I been doing with my life.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Ha, true, but that doesn’t change that I have wasted a lot of my life. There were so many moments of magic and wonder moving through my life and I ignored them because they were not the quote-unquote right kind of moments.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Well, you’re not dead yet.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“No, I am not. (pauses thinking) If I try really hard in therapy will I be able to drum.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Not only that, but you would probably help inspire your friends to try harder. You’ll be helping yourself and them.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“I do not know if I am worthy of being an inspiration but I do want to drum again.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Then come tomorrow, try your best in therapy. Then the day after, try your best. Then the day after that try your best. Then keep repeating.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“That simple, huh?”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“In theory, yes. Practically, not so much. We all get a little confused sometimes and forget to repeat.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Some of us more than others.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Yes, some more than others.”

There is a pause as Panacea takes another bite of salad.

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“So, what were you watching.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Watching?”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“On the Vid-screen. You were watching something when I came in. What was it?”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“Oh that. Soapbubble Operational Theatre. It’s where a bunch surgeons who also happen to be actors put on a play.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Can I watch it with you? I mean, if you don’t mind.”

Panacea smiles and leans over turning the vid-screen back on. The doctors and nurses are crowded around the operating table.

PANACEA FLAUTO
“That guy is Orson Wellwisher. He is the host of the show and one of my favorites.”

CEDAR WAXWINGS
“Okay. Who are the other people.”

PANACEA FLAUTO
“The tall guy is William P. J. Cottongin. He is playing a visiting surgeon accidentally drawn into the murder mystery.”

Cedar moves closer to the table to get a better view as the High-stage curtains close. The stage lights turn of with the sound of A COMPUTER BOOTING OFF.

TRANSITION FROM THE HIGH-STAGE TO MID-STAGE

THE CAMERA DETACHES FROM HIGH-STAGE AND STARTS TO PAN DOWNWARD. IT GLIDES ONTO AND OVER THE CURTAIN OF CLOUDS. MOVING EVER DOWNWARD THE TOPS OF THE MID-STAGE SETS PEAK INTO THE FRAME. THE CAMERA CONTINUES PANNING DOWNWARD OVER THE MID-STAGE SETS TILL PROPERLY FRAMING MID-STAGE.

MID-STAGE: INT. THOMAS TYPEWRITER’S APARTMENT FRONTROOM, DAYTIME
A writing desk sits center stage. In the background, on the stage-right side, sits a short bookcase. The desk has two moving boxes stacked on top of it. The bottom box is labeled “Typewriter”. The top box is labeled “Papers, Scripts, Misc…” The bookcase is nearly empty with only some books remaining on one of the shelves. THOMAS TYPEWRITER is pacing the room speaking to OPHIDIA OPERAHOUSE on his mobile phone.

THOMAS TYPEWRITER
“So, I thought over what you asked, you know about me helping and working on your project. I have an answer. I will do it.”

There is a LOUD SQUEAL OF DELIGHT from the phone. The squeal catches Thomas off guard, far too loud for how close he has the phone to his ear. Thomas winces and moves the phone away from his ear until the noise subsides.

THOMAS TYPEWRITER
“I am happy about it too. So what do I need to do first? Any paperwork or forms?”

The Mid-Stage curtains start to close as the stage-lights turn off to the sound of A LIGHT SWITCH CLICKING OFF.

FADE OUT