HAH!
Great script, Gibson.
I kind of figured everybody decided they didn't want to do this after all.
We'll try this again next week. Gibson, you get to host, since you win by default. Come up with a theme!
Here's a script I wrote, but which don't want to be considered for the contest:
Pg1- Setting: the palace throne room. Loafing area of great king Brodie. The walls are a deep maroon, and lined with many gilded suits of armor. Strung about the room are majestic banners trimmed in tans and gold.
P1- The thronerome doors explode open as Marisol a young peasant girl dashes into the room at breakneck speed. She almost loses her balance as she scrambles down the walk. Two of King Brodies guardsmen give chase.
Himbold: She's trying to get to the king!
Weatherbee: Is that a weapon?!
P2- The camera trains closer onto Marisol's face. Beneath insubstantial scratches and a small patch of dirt we see an untamed and beautiful face. Her hair is like coal and her skin alabaster. Her eyes are so bright and green that they should be the envied by every leaf and bramble that ever took root. She is irradiated by something genuine and full of wonders. Behind her we can see Himbold and Weatherbee, clearly miffed at our young heroine.
Marisol: Your highness! I have something important to show you.
P3: The camera spins around and finally we see King Brodie. He is a tall and disaffected man. Folded down into his throne like an accordian pressed in on itself. Behind his eyes flickers something too disinterested to be contempt or even annoyance. If Marisol is night, then King Brodie is assuredly the day.
Brodie: GUARDS... leave her
P4: He leans forward. Clasping together his inhumanely long fingers.
Brodie: Now, wench, what have you for great king Brodie?
P5: The camera looks down on Marisol as she looks up to King Brodie. One hand on her hips, the other reaching into her apron pocket.
Marisol: The one thing you cannot buy. And the one thing that will teach your cruel, iron heart joy...
P6: The camera closes in on her hand as she reveals a single, humble, but strangely captivating red rose.
Marisol: LOVE (shows him flower)
Pg2-
P1The camera pulls back out and we get a profile shot of a disappointed King Brodie inspecting the flower, and an all too proud Marisol grinning from ear to ear
Brodie: That is a FLOWER!
Marisol: *Giggles*/ Yes... well it is only a SYMBOL
P3- She points to her chest
Marisol: The love is HERE... inside.
P4- Puzzled, King Brodie strokes his grizzled chin. His jaunty crown slighty askew.
Brodie: What?! LOVE!? Hand me this love! What is it worth on the open market!? How much does it weigh!?
P5-Marisol smiles and blushes
Marisol:It doesn't WEIGH anything...
P6-King Brodie throws his hands up. Clearly annoyed now.
Brodie: Preposterous. Such a thing cannot possibly persist!
P7- Set in her conviction: Marisol leans forward and gives King Brodie a face full of her plucky attitude.
Marisol: What does anger weigh?/ Or Fear... or Justice?
P8- She crosses her arms and leans back, Flashing the King a smug grin.
Marisol: Love, old man is real, though wary... and wise to steer free of a heart as...as shattered and STINKY as yours
Pg3-
P1- She starts to whimsically spin around, arms outstretched and her head back.
Marisol:Love is the way a morning dew hugs every blade of grass and leaf in the forest. Love is the way the sun embraces the sky. The sea adores the shore and the way that I adore you, a heartless and broken old monster.
P4- King Brodie sits back. Somewhat bemused by this situation and folds his arms.
Brodie:You would storm my throne room, with Fairy-tales about things that cannot be held, felt or seen, and then DARE to call me a monster?
P5-She hops forward with both arms outstretched behind her. As if she roaring her statement at the king.
Marisol:Love makes even the meek bold.
P6-We pull in close onto King Brodie. Who's expression is somewhere between puzzled and tickled
Brodie: You... are a strong lass... sure of yourself... and your frame STURDY.\You could make a good wife, if not for your flapping maw and relentless, what... what IS that demeanor, anyway?
P7- She climbs the throne and leans in close to the king. A positively radiant smile on her face.
Marisol: Joy
Brodie:Yes... it disconcerts me.
P8- The camera pulls back out, and we can see that Himbold and Weatherbee are now dragging Marisol off-panel. King Brodie, as disinterested as when we saw him first, is waving his arm in a declarative manner and she's grasping for him even as she's being removed.
Brodie: Throw her to the lions.
Marisol: B-but I LOVE you!
Panel 9- Brodie buries his head in his hand, as if he has a headache
Brodie: I don't even know what that MEANS