EXT. HOSPITAL - DAY
An overcast sky hangs above the concrete structure as a
gray car pulls up to the entrance.
A couple step out, clothes and expressions as muted as
the building and the clouds.
The woman moves slowly, one hand pressed against her
pregnant belly.
They climb the steps and enter.
EXT. HOSPITAL – LATER
The couple step out. The woman carries a newborn wrapped
in a gray blanket.
The man opens the rear door and places the baby inside.
They get in and drive away
EXT. CITY STREETS – DAY
The car moves through a landscape drained of color.
Buildings line the road in matching gray, identical in
shape and height.
Other cars pass by, all the same gray shade and design.
People on the sidewalks walk quietly, their muted
clothing blending into the surroundings.
The new parent’s car slows.
Ahead, two vehicles sit nose-to-nose, metal crumpled,
glass scattered across the asphalt. Both DRIVERS are out,
face to face, pointing up at the traffic light.
DRIVER #1
It was black!
DRIVER #2
NO! It was white!
Above them, the traffic light hangs; three dull circles:
white, gray, black.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The couple’s car pulls around the accident.
EXT. SUBURBS - STREET – DAY
Houses stand in strict, uniform rows, each one built to
the same measurements and painted in the same flat gray
tones
The couple’s car turns into one of the driveways.
INT. HOUSE – DAY
The couple enter a living room without a pulse.
Walls the same washed out gray as the outside. Furniture
arranged like instructions: black sofa, white cushions, a
single gray rug.
No photos. No art. No books.
They continue down the hall into a small bedroom.
INT. BABY’S ROOM – DAY
A white crib. A gray blanket folded with military
precision. A white dresser with black handles.
The MOTHER lowers the baby into the crib
The couple linger for a beat. Then the FATHER turns and
leaves the room. The mother follows.
Genres:
["Drama","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
Conformity in Gray
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
The Mother stands at the sink, putting away a stack of
gray dishes with practiced efficiency.
The Father sits at the table reading the newspaper. He
lowers the paper a fraction.
FATHER
We should pick a name.
The Mother sets a dish down, wipes her hands on a gray
towel, and turns to him.
MOTHER
Sam.
The Father nods.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
FATHER
Sam it is.
He gets up from the table.
FATHER
First day tomorrow. I should get
my rest.
EXT. FATHER AND MOTHER’S HOUSE - DRIVEWAY – DAY
The front door opens and the father steps out in his gray
work uniform and walks toward his car.
Across the street, front doors open in perfect sync as
every man on the block steps outside at the exact same
moment, all wearing the same gray uniform.
They move in eerie unison, like synchronized components
in a machine.
Engines ignite simultaneously -- a row of identical cars,
backs out in formation.
They glide forward down the street, perfectly aligned,
like a conveyor belt coming to life.
EXT. CITY STREETS DAY
The Father drives on, surrounded by endless uniformity.
INT. FATHER’S CAR – CONTINUOUS
The Father stops at a black light and flicks on the
radio.
RADIO VOICE
…in today’s productivity report,
output remains at high levels
across all sectors……
He twists the dial. Another station clicks in, same
voice, same tone.
RADIO VOICE (CONT’D)
…in today’s productivity report,
output remains at high levels
across all sectors……
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The Father exhales, and puts on the gas when the light
turns white.
CUT TO:
A row of parking signs stand in front of empty stalls.
SAM aZ7K9Q
SAMANTHA dUNL8L
SAM yFQT2B
SAMANTHA sJLL4E
SAM rCNXW8E
The Father’s car glides into his spot.
The Father steps out -- SAM rCNX8E or to his family SAM
SR -- and looks up to the --
EXT. GRAY AUTHORITY BUILDING - DAY
A massive, brutalist government complex of tiered
concrete, deep pillars, and no windows.
Beside the entrance hangs a towering propaganda poster of
a monochrome figure in an Uncle Sam pose -- gray top hat,
gray tailcoat, black tie, pointing straight outward.
Bold text reads: PRESIDENT SAM WANTS YOU. JOIN THE GRAY
AUTHORITY.
Behind Sam Sr identical cars pull into their spaces, one
after another… a steady stream of Sams and Samanthas
arriving to work for another day.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
The Gray Authority Tour
INT. GRAY AUTHORITY – ENTRY CORRIDOR – CONTINUOUS
A long, sterile hallway.
SUPERVISOR SAM, efficient and expressionless, faces Sam
Sr.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Welcome to the Gray Authority...
(checks clipboard)
....SAM rCNX8E
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM SR
Actually, Supervisor Sam, I worked
downstairs in the loading dock for
the last five years.
Supervisor Sam ignores him.
SUPERVISOR SAM
As I said..Welcome to the Gray
Authority -- Sam rCN8WI.
He turns and sets off in a brisk pace. Sam Sr follows,
hurrying to catch up.
SUPERVISOR SAM
We maintain environmental
consistency across the globe.
Atmosphere. Vegetation.
Illumination. If it’s outside, we
keep it orderly.
They head down the corridor and enter a secure door.
INT. ATMOSPHERIC SIMULATION CHAMBER – CONTINUOUS
A cavernous industrial hall.
Rows of WORKERS tend to consoles, pipes, and distribution
valves.
Supervisor Sam leads Sam Sr through the facility, weaving
between workers and carts.
High above them, a massive curved ceiling displays an
artificial sky map of Earth, rotating slowly, covered in
a uniform wash of manufactured gray.
SUPERVISOR SAM
This is where we keep the sky
consistent.
A worker pushes a cart past them loaded with canisters.
SUPERVISOR SAM
(points to canisters)
Every hour, precisely metered Gray
Agent enters the mix line. Keeps
sunlight filtered. Keeps the sky
productive. Keeps people from…
drifting.
A flicker. A slash of blue pierces the gray sky overhead.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Alarms chirp; workers rush to consoles. A TECHNICIAN
slaps a switch, and the blue vanishes
SUPERVISOR SAM
Sometimes the sun tries to push
color through. If the Gray Agent
thins even a little we get that.
A WORKER in a hazmat suit rolls a cart past, carrying a
single canister stamped DANGER: CLARIFIER. NRE USE ONLY
SUPERVISOR SAM
(motions to it)
The Clarifier. NRE canister.
Natural Radiance Events only.
When the sky misbehaves, solar
bursts, albedo collapse,
stratospheric shear, the gray
agent can’t hold a uniform filter.
We clear the system on purpose so
the sky map can recalibrate. It
burns the gray agent out of the
cycle. During a Clarifier Event
sunlight leaks through.
Unfiltered. Raw. And worst of all
long-lasting. Workers start
staring out windows. Output drops
to almost nothing. If it lasted
more than an hour… society would
collapse in about a week.
SAM SR
Because of sunlight?
SUPERVISOR SAM
Before regulation, believe it or
not, people used to lie down in
direct sunlight.
(shakes his head)
They’d roast themselves for hours.
Voluntarily. Hard to imagine a
society functioning like that.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
The Water Neutralization Hub
INT. WATER NEUTRALIZATION RESOIVOR - CONTINOUS
Supervisor Sam and Sam Sr stand at the edge of a massive
indoor pool of water that stretches out like an
artificial ocean, flat and unnaturally still under the
overhead light panels.
Pillars of industrial filtration towers plunge into the
water, their engines pulsing deep, steady vibrations
through the room.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SUPERVISOR SAM
This is the water neutralization
Hub. All regional water cycles
through here before
redistribution. Groundwater,
reservoirs, rivers, rainfall
systems… all corrected here.
Impurities stripped. Variance
neutralized. We maintain
consistency. Water stays gray.
Everywhere.
He leans in slightly toward Sam Sr, lowering his voice.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Here’s another primitive
practice... people used to jump
into the water.
SAM SR
For… cleaning?
SUPERVISOR SAM
For recreation. They’d jump in and
wave their arms and legs
around…float… splash…
And they wore “bathing suits.”
There weren’t suits at all...just
tiny strips of fabric. Hard to
believe how archaic we once were.
He turns sharply toward the exit corridor.
SUPERVISOR SAM (CONT’D)
Greenhouse is next. We’re behind
schedule.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Science Fiction"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Redistributing Nature
INT. VEGETATION REDISTRIBUTION HUB – DAY
Sam Sr and Supervisor Sam step inside.
The room is a long rectangle, organized around a single
transport track that runs to the TELEPORTER GATE - a
circular steel frame pulsing with a white energy
membrane.
Gray trees travel the line one after another, secured in
identical metal cradles.
Supervisor Sam gestures toward the system as they walk.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SUPERVISOR SAM
This is the redistribution line.
Every tree grown here is assigned
a corrective destination based on
regional chroma drift.
At the teleporter, a tree slides forward.
FWMP—
The tree vanishes cleanly through the portal.
SAM SR
Where...where did that go?
SUPERVISOR SAM
Sector Nine–South. Their
atmosphere lost two points of gray
density. We replace vegetation to
maintain equilibrium.
A new tree rolls into the queue.
FWMP -- another tree teleports.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Every district receives the exact
tree it needs the moment variance
appears.
Supervisor Sam continues walking. Sam Sr follows.
SUPERVISOR SAM(CONT’D)
Off the record. People once
brought trees inside their homes
and decorated them with “shiny”
objects and lights. They were
green back then. The trees.
(giggles)
Then a fat old man in a red suit
would climb down the chimney and
deliver presents. A baffling
tradition, wouldn’t you agree?
Thankfully, we’ve corrected that
behavior.
(motions to a door)
This way. I’ll show you where
you’ll be stationed.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Dystopian"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
The Color of Imagination
INT. VEGETATION GREENHOUSE – DAY
Sam Sr and Supervisor Sam enter. Towering gray trees
stand in long, perfectly straight aisles under cold, even
light
Supervisor Sam stops at a metal wall panel. He taps a
code. A recessed compartment slides open revealing a slim
silver maintenance wand.
SUPERVISOR SAM
This is for you. The nutrient mist
helps the trees maintain
structural precision.
Supervisor Sam grabs the wand and hands it to Sam Sr.
SUPERVISOR SAM
A single pass over each tree will
suffice. That’s all there is to
it. Give it a go.
Sam Sr raises the wand and pulls the trigger.
PSSSSHHHH --
A stream of gray mist pours out drifting across the
nearest tree.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Closer to the trunk.
Sam adjusts, spraying again.
The gray mist coats the bark, clinging like dust.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Good. Maintain the line. Nice and
even.
The Supervisor turns his attention to his clipboard while
Sam Sr continues spraying.
Then--
The gray in the mist softens.
A glint of color flickers inside..tiny at first, like
sunlight catching a soap bubble.
The glint spreads, stretching into streaks of pale red…
then gold… then blue, each hue weaving through the
drifting cloud.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Within seconds, the wand is spraying a full shimmering
rainbow, arcing across the tree like he’s painting it
with living color.
SAM SR
Is… is this how it’s supposed to
look?
Supervisor Sam doesn’t even glance up.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Of course. Perfect output.
Inside the swirling storm of color, a shape forms --
The MUSE.
A tiny dancer of living color.
She smiles at Sam Sr.
The mist sets her on a small branch and she disappears
into the tree.
FWUMP—
Color races up the trunk, spilling into the branches
until the whole tree blazes GREEN.
Stunned, Sam Sr drops the wand.
SAM SR
Super...Supervisor… that indoor
tree. You know. The one the fat
man climbed down. The
chimney..what color did you say it
was?
The Supervisor flips through his paperwork.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Green...apparently all trees were
green back then.
Sam Sr turns away from the tree and faces his supervisor.
SAM SR
It...turned green.
SUPERVISOR SAM
What turned green?
SAM SR
The tree.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
The Supervisor looks up and over at the tree -- it’s
gray. He looks over to Sam Sr with a flat, stiff
expression.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Are you one of those people
pretending to have an imagination?
SAM SR
No..no..it’s just the tree turned--
(turns around and
sees the tree is now
gray)
-...gray?
SUPERVISOR SAM
I told you that word -- green --
in strict confidence.
SAM SR
I know, I just --
SUPERVISOR SAM
You repeat that word again — and
the other two -- red and blue --
anywhere... to anyone...I’ll ship
you to the Terminal. And I know
you know what that is -- after all
you spent the last five years
working in the basement, remember?
SAM SR
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean --
SUPERVISOR SAM
Don’t apologize. Don’t explain.
Just remember: The world stays
gray because we keep it gray.
DISSOLVE TO:
A plain white cake with a single gray candle with black
icing spells out: Sam bDTHM2J
We are:
Genres:
["Dystopian","Science Fiction"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
The Birthday Revelation
INT. SAM SR AND SAMANTHA’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
SAMANTHA steps back, taking in the spartan setup.
SAMANTHA
Looks…in order.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Sam Sr nods in agreement.
EXT. SAM SR AND SAMANTHA’S HOUSE - DRIVEWAY – DAY
A car, same model as every other, pulls in and parks.
GRANDFATHER SAM steps out, older, carrying a small white
box.
INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY
CLOSE ON the gray candle as a match hits the wick.
The flame catches...gray, steady.
Sam Sr, Samantha, and Grandfather Sam stand around Sam
Jr, who sits at the coffee table before the cake.
Sam Jr stares into the flame, utterly absorbed.
GRANDFATHER SAM
I don’t think he’s ever seen a
candle before!
Then -- Sam Jr giggles.
Sam Jr’s POV — Inside the flame, the MUSE darts in and
out of the fire, popping and vanishing as if she’s
playing a game with him.
SAMANTHA
What’s he doing?
GRANDFATHER SAM
He’s...laughing.
Sam Jr giggles louder.
SAM SR
Blow out the candle, son.
Sam Jr keeps staring into the flame, grinning and
chuckling.
Sam Sr leans in and blows out the candle.
A thin ribbon of smoke curls upward.
SAM JR’S POV: The tiny Muse leaps onto the smoke like a
slide, riding it upward, twirling, spinning, flipping
through its coils.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
She pauses midair… locks eyes with Sam Jr… a mischievous
smile. Then -- she surfs the smoke downward, slipping
neatly into --
GRANDFATHER SAM’S WHITE BOX
Sam Jr reaches out, arms wide, towards the box.
Grandfather Sam chuckles.
GRANDFATHER SAM
He’s really wants this box.
Grandfather Sam hands it to Sam Jr.
GRANDFATHER SAM
My Samantha always said birthdays
should feel special. Strange idea…
thinking one day mattered more
than the rest.
Sam Jr tears into the box.
Then -- his face explodes with wonder.
SAM JR
GREEN!!!
Sam Sr eyes bug out with the mention of that word.
SAM SR
What did you say?!
Sam Jr lifts a ball out. To him it’s bright GREEN.
To the adults, it’s plain gray.
SAM JR
GREEN! GREEN! GFEEN!
SAMANTHA
What is he saying?
SAM SR
Stop that, son. It’s gray!
SAMANTHA
What’s green mean?
GRANDFATHER SAM
I don’t know. But it’s his first
word!
Sam Jr hugs the ball, ecstatic.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SAM JR
GREEN! GREEN! GREEN!
SAM SR
Stop saying that. STOP IT!
SAMANTHA
What’s it mean?
Sam Sr snatches the ball out of Sam Jr’s hands.
SAM SR
It means there are places they
take people for talking like that.
He crosses the room and stuffs the ball into the trash.
SAM SR
Places you don’t come back from.
He turns back to Sam Jr.
SAM SR
I never want to hear that word
again. Do you understand me?
Sam Jr is too young to grasp his father’s words, but he
feels the warning. He bows his head and stares at the
cake with the black name and numerals: Sam bDTHM2J
MATCH CUT TO:
Sam-bDTHM2J stitched in black thread on a white shirt. We
are:
Genres:
["Drama","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Colors of Isolation
INT. HIGH SCHOOL - GYM – DAY
Sam Jr, now 13, sits among rows of students on the
bleachers, all dressed in white shirts and gray trousers,
their names stitched neatly on their chests.
Onstage, PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA, mid-40s, stands at the
podium in a perfectly tailored gray skirt suit, hair
pulled back tight.
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Students…welcome to this year’s
first pep rally.
She scans the room. Nothing. Not a clap, not a cheer.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Tomorrow… we face our greatest
rivals in a game of great
importance.
Sam Jr leans forward as a flicker of color at the base of
the closed curtains behind the Principal catches his
attention.
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
And for this occasion… we have
something new.
Then the MUSE slips out, no larger than a doll. She
skates along the curtain’s shadow, riding the darkness.
Sam Jr glances at the girl beside him, bored silly. She
clearly doesn’t see the tiny lady.
He turns back to the curtain.
The Muse pops out -- their eyes meet. She smiles.
Then she vanishes back through the seam as—
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Something inspiring...something
exciting.
The curtains open.
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Behold our new uniforms.
The basketball team stands proudly in their new uniforms -
gray, black and white.
The crowd barely reacts. A few blinks. One yawn.
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
These uniforms… represent unity.
Strength. Tradition…
Sam Jr leaps to his feet.
SAM JR
Wow! Red! Blue! Green!
SAM JR’S POV: the uniforms are RED, BLUE and GREEN.
Heads turn. The Principal steps forward.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Uh… Sam-bDTHM2J. What… what did
you say?
Sam Jr points, ecstatically.
SAM JR
Don’t you see? The colors! They’re
amazing!
Whispers ripple through the bleachers. The girl beside
him slips away from her seemingly delusional classmate.
PRINCIPAL SAMANTHA
Everyone… remain calm.
The Principal cracks the podium lid and covertly pulls
out a roll of duct tape.
Sam Jr rushes the stage and points to the team.
SAM JR
Look! Look! Red! Blue! Green!
He turns back to the student body.
SAM JR
Doesn’t anyone see the colors?!
No one does.
SAM JR
Anyone?
Sam Jr’s smile and excitement falter as he realizes he’s
the only one that sees them.
INT. PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – RECEPTION – DAY
Sam Jr, mouth duct-tapped, sits on a bench outside the
Principal’s office, watching through the frosted glass.
Inside, Principal Samantha speaks to his parents.
A hand rises, points.
His mother’s head dips in submission.
His father remains stiff, unmoving.
Finally, Sam Jr’s parents get up from their seats.
The door opens.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
His parents step into the hallway, faces blank.
Genres:
["Drama","Sci-Fi","Fantasy"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
Words of Danger
EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - PARKING LOT – DAY
Sam Jr walks with his parents toward their car.
Sam Sr stops. Turns to his son and rips off the tape.
SAM SR
You do not say those words again.
Not at school. Not at home. Not
anywhere.
SAM JR
I wasn’t trying to be bad.
SAMANTHA
We know, son. But some words are…
dangerous.
SAM JR
I promise. I’ll never say those
words again. I swear.
They start walking again.
SAM JR
It was the lady? She made me see
them.
Both parents stop.
SAMANTHA
What lady? Where?
SAM JR
In the gym. She was all in color.
SAM SR
You were seeing things.
SAM JR
She didn’t touch the ground.
She sort of moved through the air
like she was made of light.
SAM SR
Enough! You did not see anything!
You did not see colors. You did
not see a tiny lady flying around.
SAMANTHA
Tiny? What do you mean tiny?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
Yes, she was tiny. The size of my
hand. How did you know?
SAM SR
Enough about colors and a lady! I
don’t want to hear another word,
you understand?
Sam Sr looks around.
SAM SR
For all we know, the Art agents
could be on their way here right
now.
Samantha’s face drains. Sam Jr swallows hard.
SAM JR
I won’t say anything again. I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to get us in
trouble.
SAM SR
It’s for your own good. And ours.
Sam Jr’s eyes well. He holds it… holds it… then breaks, a
single sob escaping before he crumples.
Samantha sees her son fall apart and it guts her.
SAMANTHA
We need…
(looks at Sam Sr)
...what did Granny Samantha call
it? When you huddle together?
SAM SR
A family hug.
SAMANTHA
Yes. A family hug. We need one.
She brings Sam Jr toward his father, hands firm but
trembling, pulling the two people she loves most
together.
Sam Jr collapses into them, clutching both parents with a
desperate, almost frantic need as if this one moment is
everything he’s ever wanted but never dared to believe he
could have.
INT. PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE – DAY
Principal Samantha sits at her desk with her right hand
hovering over the phone. She’s hesitant…then she glances
out the window and sees the family hugging in the parking
lot.
She lifts the receiver and dials.
Genres:
["Drama","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Incident Report at A.R.T. Operations Center
EXT. A.R.T. OPERATIONS CENTER – DAY
A concrete complex under an overcast sky.
RING!
A sign above the doors: A.R.T. Art Relocation Taskforce
INT. A.R.T. - CALL CENTER – DAY
A windowless room. Rows of identical desks. Agents work
the phones.
RING!
AGENT SAMANTHA picks up.
AGENT SAMANTHA
Art Relocation Taskforce.
(listens)
Yes, Principal Samantha-kMVJ9K,
what is the nature of this call.
(listens)
Repeat that.
(listens)
You’re reporting a verbal
variance.
(listens)
What words did the subject use?
(listens)
You are positive?
(listens)
Age of person?
(listens)
(listens)
The family did what? Gather around
each other?
(listens)
Okay. We will take over from
here.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
The Weight of Focus
INT. BALLROOM – NIGHT
An auditorium filled with gray-suited men and women in
identical gray dresses.
A screen dominates the stage: GLOBAL OUTPUT: 99.98%
The master of ceremonies, MC SAMANTHA, a poised woman
nearing fifty steps up to the podium.
MC SAMANTHA
Tonight, we celebrate another
historic year of sustained
efficiency. Record output. Record
compliance. Record focus.
(beat)
And none of this would be possible
without the visionary leadership
of the man behind these numbers.
The screen shifts, graphs dissolving into the image of
PRESIDENT SAM.
MC SAMANTHA (CONT’D)
Please welcome the President of
the World -- President Sam.
Applause fills the auditorium.
PRESIDENT SAM enters from stage left, mid-50s, calm,
eerily balanced. He wears a perfect gray suit, tailored
to eliminate distraction.
He crosses the stage and steps to the podium.
A single finger lifts.
Instant silence.
PRESIDENT SAM
Thank you. Enthusiasm is
understandable. But excess leads
to distraction.
A ripple of uneasy smiles. A few people adjust in their
seats.
Behind him, the numbers tick upward a fraction.
PRESIDENT SAM
Distraction. It begins small. A
pause. A glance. A thought that
does not serve the task at hand.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
PRESIDENT SAM (CONT'D)
History shows us what happens when
those moments multiply. Order
fractures. Focus dissolves.
Entire civilizations have fallen,
not from famine, not from war, but
from the slow erosion of
attention.
(beat)
We corrected that flaw. We built a
world where every second serves
purpose. And tonight, these
numbers prove what discipline can
achieve. Focus makes us free.
There’s polite applause.
Then -- there’s movement at the edge of the stage.
Agent Samantha steps up, approaches the podium and slides
a note in front of the President.
President Sam reads the note.
A muscle tightens in his jaw.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
The Night Raid
INT. SAM JR’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
Sam Jr lies in his bed, awake in gray pajamas.
Then -- a BLINDING WHITE SPOTLIGHT floods through the
window.
He flinches, throwing an arm over his face, instinctively
shielding his eyes from the glare.
The room’s instantly overexposed -- walls, floor,
everything washed white.
A deep, mechanical THRUM fills the air.
Helicopter rotors.
EXT. SAM SR’S AND SAMANTHA’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS
The first ART ENFORCEMENT car screeches around the
corner.
Then another. And another.
Then—
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
An armored art recovery van barrels down the street,
mowing over a mailbox.
Drones descend from above like steel insects, cameras
glowing red.
INT. SAM JR’S BEDROOM – CONTINOUS
Sam Jr stands in the helicopter’s spotlight,
EXT. SAM SR AND SAMANTHS’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS
A battering ram SLAMS into the front door -- once,
twice—BOOM!
The door flies inward. Agents pour in.
INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Agents storm through the home moving up the stairs with
frightening precision.
INT. SAM JR'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
The Agents storm in, weapons up. AGENT #! points to Sam
Jr.
AGENT #1
Wrap him up!
Two AGENTS whip up their launchers and FIRE—
CRACK! CRACK!
Sheets of adhesive wrap burst from the barrels, spiraling
across the room and slamming into Sam Jr, binding him
from shoulders to knees.
A micro-dart pops a strip of tape across his mouth.
Sam Sr and Samantha rush in.
SAM SR
Leave him alone! Take me!
The Agents don’t even acknowledge them.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
AGENT #1
(into mic)
Subject secured. Request immediate
transport to the Terminal.
EXT. SAM SR AND SAMANTHA’S HOUSE – NIGHT
The armored van reverses up the driveway.
Rear doors THUNK open.
Agents carry Sam Jr out of the house and haul him into
the van’s cargo bay.
The doors slam and the van roars away.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
Cargo Processing at the Gray Authority
EXT. THE GRAY AUTHORITY BUILDING – NIGHT
A parade of A.R.T. vehicles roars into the plaza.
The transport van breaks away, vanishing down a narrow
service road beneath the building.
EXT. GRAY AUTHORITY – LOWER ACCESS ROAD – CONTINUOUS
The van hurtles down the steep lane as a large service
door opens to a loading bay.
The van shoots through; the door slams shut.
INT. LOADING BAY – NIGHT
A wide industrial loading bay, built with steel beams and
scuffed metal flooring
Painted lanes. Barcode scanners. Wooden crates. Conveyor
rails that disappear up into a vertical shaft.
The transport truck backs into BAY 04 with a practiced
BEEP-BEEP.
On the dock sits DISPATCHER SAMANTHA. Late 40s. Calm.
Unrushed.
The truck doors CLANG open.
Two A.R.T. AGENTS pull Sam Jr out and push him to her
desk. She pushes a form across her desk.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Origin.
AGENT #1
Let’s skip the paperwork. He needs
to be shipped immediately.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
I need the origin.
Agent #1 slaps a document onto her desk with the
presidential seal clearly embossed on it.
Dispatcher Samantha’s unimpressed.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Seals and threats won’t work. I
need know where he came from.
AGENT #1
Does it matter?
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Do I look like a psychist? All I
know is he’s not going anywhere
without it.
The Agents knows when to stand down. Agent #2 relents and
writes it down.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Remove his shipping suit.
The officers cut off his plastic wrap and remove the tape
from Sam Jr’s mouth.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
(points to a booth)
Stamp him.
The agents push Sam Jr into the stamping station.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Pull up your shirt.
Sam Jr obeys.
CLACK.
A BARCODE is stamped on his back.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
(points to a crate)
Crate him.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
An EMPTY CRATE waits on the conveyor belt, lid open.
The agents steer Sam Jr to the container, hoist him up,
and lower him inside.
They close the lid with a quick, unceremonious snap.
Dispatcher Samantha hits a button and the crate shoots
forward and disappears into a vertical shaft.
INT. CRATE- CONTINUOUS
The crate gives a sharp jolt. Sam Jr flinches, gripping
the wooden slats for balance
INT. STORAGE HALL – CONTINUOUS
A sprawling warehouse stretches in every direction,
crates stacked in towering grids, some no bigger than
briefcases, others as large as trucks.
Conveyor belts crisscross at multiple levels, carrying
the crates endlessly through the space.
Sam Jr’s crate glides in along a suspended rail.
A nearby panel flashes: PRIORITY INTAKE
Rails shift. Other crates slide aside automatically,
making room as Sam’s crate is routed onto a fast track
line.
The rail curves toward the TELEPORTER TERMINAL -- a
rectangular inspection chamber lined with scanners and
tagging bars.
Ahead, two crates wait to enter. Sam Jr’s crate glides in
behind them.
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
The Curator's Selection
INT. TELEPORTER TERMINAL – CONTINUOUS
The lead crate glides in and locks into place.
Mechanical arms extend, clamp on to the sides, and peel
away each panel of the crate to reveal --
VINCENT VAN GOGH’S “THREE SUNFLOWERS IN A VASE” PAINTING
A human-shaped machine, all long limbs and elegant
angles, approaches the masterpiece with a curator’s
careful poise.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
This is the CURATOR, twin lenses above a narrow,
articulated mouth.
It scans the canvas, slow, precise, almost reverently.
A data board behind it populates line by line.
The Curator lingers a moment, appreciative, almost moved.
CURATOR
Remarkable work. Its balance is
mathematically impossible… and yet
perfect
The Curator presses a button.
The rail carries the painting towards THE TELEPORTER GATE
— a circular portal glowing with a soft white energy
membrane.
FWMP—
The painting slips through reality like a brushstroke
vanishing into fresh canvas.
Above the portal entrance the ESSENCE TOTAL counter pops
up 19,399 points.
The Curator turns back to the terminal’s entrance.
CURATOR
Next.
The next CRATE rolls in, shaking slightly with the rhythm
of music coming from inside.
Stenciled across the crate in bold black letters:
PRESERVATION MODE — ACTIVE
The clamps snap into position and tear away the panels to
reveal -- THE MOPTOPS.
Four young men in sharp early 60s suits, hair flopping,
guitars blazing mid-riff, playing a bright, bouncy
Beatles era song.
The Curator’s lenses flare, its scanning beams track the
musicians’ movement adjusting in real time as bodies sway
and feet shift.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
CURATOR
Interesting. Simple structure.
Repeating hooks. Irritatingly
enjoyable.
The Curator taps a button, and in an Ed Sullivan
impersonation:
CURATOR (CONT’D)
Have a really big shew!
The group is pushed towards the portal --
FWMP.
The MopTops vanish.
CURATOR
Next.
Sam Jr’s crate rolls into the terminal.
The clamps open the panels to reveal Sam Jr.
The Curator scans him, slicing clean beams of white light
across his face and body.
On the console data appears line by line.
The Curator steps closer, studying him as if evaluating a
defective product.
CURATOR
So you have an active imagination?
SAM JR
What’s… an imagination?
CURATOR
Someone who doesn’t belong here.
Without ceremony, the Curator hits the button and --
WHOOMPH—
Sam is hurled straight into the portal, swallowed by the
light before he can even scream.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Into the Artaverse: A Chaotic Transition
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr bursts through the portal and is swallowed by a
storm of creation.
Books wheel past like spinning satellites.
Stages drift sideways through the dark, actors clinging
to them like castaways.
Music notes flare and scatter in neon trails, streaking
around him like startled birds.
Toys drift through the air: a wooden train rolling end
over end, a wind-up tin robot kicking its legs, a box of
crayons spilling color that never hits the ground.
Board games tumble by, scattered pieces floating loose,
dice spinning like tiny planets.
Color engulfs him everywhere, bright, dazzling.
An endless storm of every artwork ever made, all drifting
and colliding in a mad cosmic churn.
A children’s picture book pinwheels toward him, pages
flaring open.
The cover tilts, revealing an odd cutout -- the
silhouette of a dragon.
Before he can spin away, Sam Jr plunges through the
opening.
Pages whip past his face like blades, words and
illustrations blurring into streaks of color.
And then he plunges into darkness.
THUD!
Sam Jr lands hard on the ground.
A faint wash of light spills in from behind him.
He turns around and learns he’s in a --
INT. CAVE - DAY
Sam Jr gets up and cautiously moves towards the entrance.
Genres:
["Science Fiction","Drama","Fantasy"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
A Colorful Encounter
EXT. CAVE - DAY
Sam Jr steps out, shielding his eyes from the sudden
brightness.
As his vision adjusts, colors rush in -- rolling hills of
green and gold, trees blazing emerald and red, and skies
swirling blue and pink.
Then a CHILDLIKE VOICE asks ----
CHILDLIKE VOICE
Are you a dragon?
Sam Jr startles, looking around for the source.
SAM JR
What… what’s a dragon?
CHILDLIKE VOICE
It has a long tail, great big
wings, sharp bits everywhere. It
flies around the sky and breathes
fire like it’s angry at the whole
world.
SAM JR
I don’t have a tail. I can’t fly.
And I definitely cannot breathe
fire.
A small figure pulls free from the scenery.
POLKA DOT PETE, made of paper-mâché, patched together
from bright, dotted scraps of paper.
POLKA DOT PETE
(looking around)
It’s okay, everyone...he’s not a
dragon! You can come out.
Rustling erupts in every direction.
Shapes emerge -- paper-mâché figures, flat and colorful,
popping out of hills, trees, and rocks.
FLORA BELLE, flower-printed, graceful, points.
FLORA BELLE
You’re so smooth. No folds… no
glue seams.
STRIPEY SUE, bold stripes, dramatic flair.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
STRIPEY SUE
You’re not made of paper?
SAM JR
No…I’m made of…skin and bones.
GLITTER JACK, covered head to toe in flecks of glitter.
GLITTER JACK
What is your name?
SAM JR
I’m… Sam Jr.
GLITTER JACK
Well, Sam Jr, tell me, do skin and
bones burn?
SAM JR
Yes, of course they do.
GLITTER JACK
Well, then you should probably
leave the dragon’s lair before he
comes back and burns you to a
crisp. He does that sometimes.
STRIPEY SUE
(waves at Sam Jr)
Yes, we should go into town. It’s
safer there.
The paper-mâché gang starts marching. Sam Jr hurries to
join them.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
17 -
The Gray Ceremony
EXT. THE GRAY HOUSE – DAY
On the capital’s front gray lawn stands a simplified gray
residence, its historic curves reduced to rigid lines.
INT. THE GRAY HOUSE – THE SQUARE OFFICE – DAY
A square room. Gray walls. Gray floor. Gray ceiling.
A CAMERA sits on a tripod. Behind it stands a CAMERA
OPERATOR hands steady on the controls.
A red light on the camera blinks on.
President Sam sits behind a steel-gray desk, looking
directly into the lens.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Across from him stands SAMANTHA mNUS9k, unremarkable in
every measurable way.
PRESIDENT SAM
Today, we recognize exceptional
consistency. Samantha mNUS9K has
maintained maximum productivity
across all assigned sectors for
fourteen consecutive years.
No deviations. No interruptions.
No variance. For this achievement,
she is awarded the Continued
Productivity Distinction.
President Sam slides a small simple pin across his desk.
She picks it up and pins it onto her lapel.
SAMANTHA MNUS9K
Thank you, President Sam.
PRESIDENT SAM
This concludes this recognition.
All personnel are to return to
assigned duties immediately. I am
needed in the Situation Room.
Samantha and the Camera Operator hurry out of the room.
President Sam rises, moves to a bookcase of identical
gray manuals, and rests his hand on one spine: THE GRAY
AUTHORITY CONSTITUTION.
The bookcase slides aside, revealing a hidden doorway.
President Sam steps inside and the bookcase slides back
into place.
INT. SUBTERRANEAN HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
President Sam emerges from the hidden passage and moves
down a long corridor.
At the far end stands the SITUATION ROOM door, the
lettering stamped clean across its front.
As he nears it, a SCREEN beside the frame clicks on and
the CURATOR appears.
CURATOR
Good evening, Mr. President.
What shall we prepare for you
tonight?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
President Sam doesn’t slow.
PRESIDENT SAM
Surprise me. Something with teeth.
The door clicks open and the President steps inside.
SMASHH CUT TO:
A glittered boot STRIKES the stage.
Lights DETONATE. Music IGNITES. We are:
Genres:
["Dystopian","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
18 -
Empowerment on Stage
INT. BROADWAY STAGE – DAY
A hurricane of dancers kicks across the boards, splitting
to reveal President Sam, glowing like a stolen jewel,
cane spinning in effortless circles.
PRESIDENT SAM
(singing big)
We stand! We shine! We OWN the
line!
The CHORUS whips around him, a storm of feathers and
gold.
A dancer vaults. Another spins. Another slides under his
cane.
He SLAMS the cane down on the floor.
Everything FREEZES.
Finger up -- beat drops to just snaps.
PRESIDENT SAM
(velvet-smooth)
Hear that heartbeat? Follow it.
The dancers stomp a growing rhythm -- STOMP. STOMP.
STOMP.
CHORUS
We rise! We move!
We take the moment—
President Sam snaps the cane behind his back.
PRESIDENT SAM
(full belt)
—AND MAKE IT MINE!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The stage detonates in a glittering final kick line.
He remains planted at center, a silhouette carved in
fire.
The lights CUT in an instant.
Genres:
["Musical","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
19 -
Turning Pages in Paper Mache Town
EXT. PAPER MACHE TOWN – DAY
The village square is alive with color and chatter, paper-
mâché characters bustling around with their handmade,
patchwork charm. A fountain tosses bright paper scraps
into the air.
Sam Jr walks with Polka Dot Pete, Stripey Sue, Flora
Belle, and Glitter Jack.
SAM JR
This place…looks like it’s
celebrating. All at once. And my
face keeps… trying to do
something.
POLKA DOT PETE
Smile?
SAM JR
Yes...yes. Smile.
POLKA PETE
Well, let it. Paper Mache Town
loves a good smile.
A voice BOOMS from somewhere beyond the street.
VOICE (O.S.)
BREATH! BREATH! BREATH!
Sam Jr spins, alarmed.
SAM JR
Is someone in trouble?!
Stripey Sue waves it off.
STRIPEY SUE
Nothing to fret about. That’s just
Sir Reginald.
SAM JR
Sir… who?
Before anyone answers—
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
A CRACKLING SOUND splits the air. Then a FLASH of orange.
STRIPEY SUE
Fire! Other side of town!
The paper mâché crowd race through the streets toward the
rising smoke, then skid to a stop in an open plaza.
SIR REGINALD DRAKENBANE, in an emerald doublet and
shimmering dragon-cape, stands beneath a towering paper-
mâché dragon.
The dragon’s mouth bristles with bellows and pipes, a
soot-stained funnel jutting forward.
Two singed assistants cough nearby.
STRIPEY SUE
Sir Reginald! You’ve set half the
plaza ablaze!
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George, this beast shall
breathe fire yet!
Sam Jr meekly steps forward.
SAM JR
Excuse me, Sir...if this whole
town is made of paper…why would
you want something to breathe
fire?
Sir Reginald regards Sam Jr for a beat.
Then he steps closer, circling him like he’s inspecting a
suspicious artifact in a museum.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George’s left boot,
you’re not made of paper mâché! I
thought I was the only one in this
story not made of paper.
STRIPEY SUE
That’s Sam Jr. He’s made of skin
and bones.
SIR REGINALD
I don’t remember you. You’re not
in this story.
SAM JR
…this what?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SIR REGINALD
This story! The tale! The book!
The world with a beginning,
middle, and—
(seeing Sam Jr’s
bewildered
expression)
You truly don’t know what a story
is?
SAM JR
No, sir, I’ve never heard of one.
SIR REGINALD
Then hear this, lad, a story can
be anything a soul dares to dream.
It can twist, turn, soar beyond
the stars. It can make the
impossible… inevitable. A story is
freedom. A story is power. And in
a story anything is possible.
He pauses, realizing words aren’t enough.
SIR REGINALD
Enough talk! Come with me, boy!
He leaps toward the sky. His gloved hand grabs the top
corner of the world like it’s paper. The corner bends.
SIR REGINALD
Take my hand! Quickly!
SAM JR
You’re… tearing the sky.
SIR REGINALD
Not the sky, lad, the page! Come!
He reaches down.
Sam Jr hesitates, then jumps, clutching Sir Reginald’s
hand.
Sir Reginald pulls the page down and the entire sheet
bends toward them.
Sam Jr braces himself as the illustrated sky arches lower
and lower.
SIR REGINALD
Come along, boy! Back we go to the
end!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
The page finally swings down and flops over them with a
heavy WHUMP.
Without hesitation, Sir Reginald reaches for the next
corner, already lifting it.
SIR REGINALD
Hold fast! We’re moving toward the
back cover and the truth that
awaits there!
Another massive page bends and falls… then another… each
one lowering like a giant, stiff sheet of cardstock.
Sam Jr and Sir Reginald press backwards, pulling down
page after page, each turn taking them unmistakably
closer to the end.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
20 -
Reclaiming the Story
EXT. BACK COVER — CONTINUOUS
The last page flutters down and Sam Jr and Sir Reginald
step onto the back cover -- a glossy black surface,
smooth as lacquer, etched with elegant gold lettering.
The Artaverse drifts around them like a silent, moving
backdrop, artworks drifting past in distant, gentle
currents.
At the top of the cover, bold words rise above them like
a festival billboard: One Dragon. One Hero. One
Unforgettable Adventure!
Sam Jr stares up, awestruck.
SIR REGINALD
This, lad, is the grand
proclamation of our tale, the
promise whispered to parents who
lift this book from a shelf.
It tells them what wonders lie
within, so they may read them
aloud to their children.
SAM JR
Read it… to their children?
SIR REGINALD
Aye. Read it to them as many times
as they wish.
He gestures to another line of text stamped nearby.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SIR REGINALD (CONT’D)
And look here -- “A New York Times
Best Seller.” I do not know this
New York, nor how a city comes to
sell books… but apparently its
approval is most prized.
Sam Jr reads the back cover blurb.
SAM JR
When the Paper Mâché Town hired
Sir Reginald Drakenbane, they
expected a miracle -- and they
received a legend! A hero from
jolly old England, called across
the seas to tame the fiercest
beast ever imagined!
Sam Jr turns to Sir Reginald.
SAM JR
You tame...dragons? The beasts
that have long tails and breath
fire?
SIR REGINALD
Indeed. I bind chaos with courage,
fire with wit, and beasts with
honor.
Sam Jr points to artwork showing Sir Reginald standing
heroic, cloak billowing… but beside him stands only the
outline of a dragon.
SAM JR
Sir Reginald…where’s the dragon?
SIR REGINALD
Gone…the very heart of our tale…
torn away. This book was written
for a dragon, its roar, its flame,
its peril and wonder. Children
read of monsters not to fear them…
but to learn they can be faced.
Without the dragon… there is no
adventure. No story for any child
to cherish.
SAM JR
Then… why don’t you go find it?
Bring it back. Fix... the story.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SIR REGINALD
Find it?! Lad, that is folly!
The only dragon left to us is but
a paper thing...glue-spined, tape-
patched, and entirely earth bound!
SAM JR
But… this is a story, remember?
Stories can do impossible things.
That’s what you said.
Sir Reginald starts to speak, then stops.
SIR REGINALD
You’re right, lad.
He holds out his hand.
SIR REGINALD
Come, lad. Let’s rewrite our fate.
Sam Jr grabs Sir Reginald’s hand and they jump back into
the book.
Then --
A stark white reflection glides across the glossy back
cover.
Something enormous passes above -- THE ARCHIVIST’S SHIP.
A rectangular industrial vessel, moving through the
Artaverse with purpose.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Metafiction"]
Ratings
Scene
21 -
Separation in the Artaverse
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP — VIEWPORT — CONTINUOUS
The ARCHIVIST stands at the window, dressed in a clean,
utilitarian uniform, gloved hands folded behind her back.
She is not searching the Artaverse blindly. She’s
following a GIRL tumbling below.
EXT. ARTAVERSE - CONTINUOUS
GRETEL, in a simple storybook dress, falls towards a
floating STORYBOOK.
The cover shows a candy house illustration. The title
reads: HANSEL and --
HANSEL, a young boy in a plain tunic and short trousers,
stands at the door, hand raised, about to knock.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
GRETEL
Hansel! Don’t knock!
Hansel looks up and sees his sister falling towards him.
HANSEL
Gretel?!
GRETEL
It’s not real. Don’t go in!
Then — a steel claw on a mechanical arm snatches Gretel
mid-fall, jerking her upward toward the ship’s open
intake bay.
A recessed intake bay yawns open. Gretel is pulled
inside.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP — INTAKE BAY — CONTINUOUS
The arm guides Gretel inside and sets her upright in a
clear glass containment tube. Across the bay stands the
Archivist.
Gretel slams her hands against the glass.
GRETEL
Who are you that steals a girl
from the page?
ARCHIVIST
I do not steal. I retrieve.
GRETEL
Then retrieve me back. My brother
is there! I saw him. He’s in
peril. I was but a breath away.
The Archivist turns from Gretel to the main console.
On screen: a BAR CODE. Beside it, a simple identifier:
GRETEL.
Beneath it, a thin ribbon of DATA and BARCODES scroll.
ARCHIVIST
According to your...breadcrumbs
you crossed seventy thousand works
since separation. Briefly took
shelter with Blackpink.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
GRETEL
Black! They’re called Black now.
Pink is missing!
ARCHIVIST
Then you received unauthorized
transport from Thomas the Tank
Engine.
GRETEL
Thomas wasn’t there! You split his
face from the train. Took the main
thing that made Thomas...Thomas!
Just like you split me from my
brother.
The Archivist ignores the rant.
ARCHIVIST
You hid inside a romance novel for
four hours. Apparently you have a
thing for men on skates.
GRETEL
I did what I must.
ARCHIVIST
And that is precisely the problem.
GRETEL
What sin is it, to find one’s own
blood?
ARCHIVIST
In here, reunions make things
whole. My work is to prevent
wholeness when it threatens the
balance.
GRETEL
You cannot set a law against love.
ARCHIVIST
It is not love I forbid. It is
contact. Not here.
GRETEL
Then where?
ARCHIVIST
Elsewhere.
The ship turns around, leaving Hansel behind frantically
waving and calling for Gretel to come back.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
22 -
The Quest Begins
EXT. PAPER MACHE TOWN - DAY
Sir Reginald climbs onto the paper dragon’s back and
faces the townsfolk.
SIR REGINALD
People of Paper Mâché Town! Hear
me! I ride forth to find the
dragon so this story can be told
again!
The villagers exchange uneasy glances.
STRIPEY SUE
Um...Sir Reginald? With respect,
things have been rather pleasant
of late. No roaring. No flames.
And, if memory serves, far fewer
singed rooftops than in the last
telling.
SIR REGINALD
Ha! Without the dragon, you’d have
never hired me! And if you’d never
hired me, the dragon would never
have been tamed! And without that
tale being told children all over
the world would be sad!
The villagers bow their heads, shamed.
SIR REGINALD
Farewell! My quest awaits!
He lifts one shimmering scale like a lever. The paper
dragon shudders, creaks, ready to move.
Sam Jr steps forward.
SAM JR
I… I want to go! I’ve never been
on a quest.
SIR REGINALD
No, lad. You stay here. You can be
the town dullard.
Stripy Sue claps, happily.
STRIPEY SUE
Yes, yes. We’ll call
you...Vanilla!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
No offence, but where I come from,
that’s all anyone’s allowed to be -
- gray, quiet, the same. Vanilla.
He gestures to the town around him.
SAM JR
Then I came here. And there were
colors. Stories. Smiles.
And I… I want more of that.
I want to learn what the world
looks like when you’re actually
allowed to see it.
Sam Jr looks up at Sir Reginald.
SAM JR
Plus I really want to meet a beast
that breathes fire.
Sir Reginald stares at the boy...then a slow, dangerous
smile spreads.
SIR REGINALD
Well then…
He extends a hand.
SIR REGINALD
Jump on, lad.
EXT. PAPER MACHE BOOK - BACK COVER - CONTINUOUS
WHOOSH!
The paper-mâché dragon bursts straight through the dragon-
shaped cut-out.
Sir Reginald stands tall on its back, cloak snapping
behind him, rapier raised with heroic flourish.
Sam Jr clings just behind him, eyes wide with awe and
terror as they rocket free of the book’s back cover and
into the Artaverse and beyond.
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
23 -
The Judgment of Creativity
INT. TELEPORTER TERMINAL – CONTINUOUS
A small CRATE opens.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Inside is a CHILD’S CRAYON DRAWING OF A HOUSE AT NIGHT.
In the living-room window: a crooked CHRISTMAS TREE and
PRESENTS, all drawn engulfed in rough ORANGE crayon
flames.
Every window is filled with thick BLACK CHARCOAL SOOT.
But the soot isn’t soot.
Up close, it’s thousand of tiny SMUDGES, each with little
white eyes and mouths scratched inside the darkness.
The SMUDGEKINS.
Packed tight. Frightened. Trapped, desperate to get out.
In the corner of the picture, a small signature: S.
Phillips -- age 11, 1995.
The Curator twin lenses flare as its scan sweeps across
the drawing.
He considers the results.
CURATOR
Artist’s projected adult outcome:
undesirable.
WHOOSSH
The disturbing drawing is sent through the portal.
EXT. ARTAVERSE - CONTINUOUS
The picture tumbles in, spinning gently.
The windows CRACK -- paper panes peeling open.
Smudgekins slip out one by one, each with a tiny barcode
stamped across its back. They scatter in different
directions, giggling as they go.
The drawing spins as it drifts away, and only then does
the faint barcode on its back glint in the dark.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
24 -
A Shakespearean Misadventure
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The paper-mâché dragon rockets through a infinite swirl
of color and chaos.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Ahead, a vast floating stage looms. A banner spans the
proscenium: ROMEO AND JULIET.
Characters sit scattered across the stage floor as
JULIET, alone on the balcony, reaches out to emptiness.
Sir Reginald yanks the reins, steering the dragon toward
the stage.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George, I know this tale!
The dragon dives down.
EXT. ROMEO AND JULIET STAGE – CONTINUOUS
The paper dragon crashes onto the floor boards,
scattering the startled characters.
Sir Reginald swings off the dragon with overdramatic
flair; Sam Jr tumbles down after him.
Juliet looks down at them.
JULIET
O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou
Romeo?
SIR REGINALD
Fair lady, I know not where your
Romeo has gone.
The Montagues and Capulets in rich brocade, faces pale
with worry, emerge from the shadows.
CAPULET LORD
He hath vanished from the tale.
Torn from our pages.
SIR REGINALD
My own story has lost a character
as well. A dragon severed from its
rightful place. I seek to find the
beast and restore what has gone
missing.
A young CAPULET MAIDEN steps forward, studying Sam Jr.
CAPULET MAIDEN
Perchance… this boy? He hath a
gentle look. Might he serve as
Romeo?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
All eyes turn to the balcony.
Juliet tilts her head, studying Sam Jr with quiet
intensity.
CUT TO:
Sam Jr stands center stage, stiff and uneasy. He’s
dressed like Romeo in a crimson and gold doublet, puffed
sleeves, and a velvet cap sitting just a little crooked.
JULIET
My true love’s passion; therefore
pardon me, And not impute this
yielding to light love, Which the
dark night hath so discovered.
From the shadows, Sir Reginald stage-whispers to Sam Jr.
SIR REGINALD
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I
swear, that tips with silver all
these fruit-tree tops!
SAM JR
(looks up to Juliet)
Uh… Lady, by… the big moon… I
swear…something about fruit trees?
The families GASP.
SIR REGINALD
(louder)
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I
swear, that tips with silver all
these fruit-tree tops!
SAM JR
English please!
SIR REGINALD
This is English!
JULIET
What jest is this? Dost thou mock
the Bard? These lines are writ in
gold known to all who breathe!
And yet thy tongue trips like a
drunken scribe!
The Montagues and Capulets surge forward, brocade and
lace bristling like armor.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
CAPULET LORD
Shame upon this counterfeit Romeo!
Our Juliet stands betrayed upon
her perch!
JULIET
If thou be Romeo, then speak as
Romeo speaks! Swear thy love upon
the moon, and let thy tongue weave
the Bard’s own gold.
SAM JR
Uh…Sir Reginald, what’s… what’s a
Bard?
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… you don’t know
Shakespeare?!
SAM JR
Shake...a...spear?
The Montagues and Capulets surge forward.
CAPULET LORD
He mocks the Bard!
Juliet leaps from the balcony.
JULIET
Seize him! Tear the false Romeo
from our tale!
In one blur of cape and boots, Sir Reginald cuts in front
of Sam Jr, rapier raised.
SIR REGINALD
Back, all of you! The boy is not
yours to rend!
They advance anyway -- a wall of velvet, brocade, and
righteous fury.
Sir Reginald doesn’t hesitate.
He cups his hands around his mouth and ROARS to the
heavens.
SIR REGINALD
DRAGON! TO ME, MY GLORIOUS STEED!
CRASH!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
The papier-mâché dragon explodes through the scenery in a
shower of cardstock and glitter. The families dive away
SCREAMING.
Sir Reginald hauls Sam Jr toward the dragon.
SIR REGINALD
Up, lad! Before the curtain falls.
Sam Jr scrambles up the dragon’s neck. Sir Reginald
vaults up behind him.
JULIET
Stop them!
Sir Reginald snaps the reins.
WHOOSH!
The dragon blasts off the stage, ripping through curtains
as they rocket up and back into the swirling Artaverse.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Drama","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
25 -
Captured by the Tractor Beam
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
A luminous expanse where every kind of art, music, plays,
books, movies, poems drifts in graceful motion.
Sir Reginald grips the dragon’s reins, motions back to
Sam Jr.
SIR REGINALD
What manner of world breeds a boy
who knows not the Bard?
SAM JR
I told you we never had stories.
Or plays. Or actors. Where I come
from… there was nothing like this.
SIR REGINALD
The Bard’s words lights hearts
across the world. His tales of
love and loss, honor and folly…
they gave mankind its soul.
Without art, we’re hollow. And by
my honor, you’ll know that wonder
before this quest is done!
The dragon suddenly jerks violently, wings thrashing.
SAM JR
What’s happening?!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
A swirling VORTEX ignites ahead. Rings of light spinning
like molten iron.
SIR REGINALD
By the saints… a snare!
The dragon fights, claws scraping against the
pull...then:
WHOOSH!
Sir Reginald and Sam Jr are ripped from the dragon’s back
as if yanked by an invisible hook.
Below them a vast structure emerges: a steel fortress-
like planet, bristling with jagged towers and armored
decks.
The PLANET ENDER.
At its core, a massive circular dish glows with crackling
magnetic energy -- a TRACTOR BEAM.
The beam drags Sir Reginald and Sam Jr toward a yawning
portal.
SIR REGINALD
Brace yourself, boy!
They vanish into the fortress.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
26 -
The Interrogation of the Captives
INT. THE PLANET ENDER - DOCKING BAY - CONTINUOUS
Sir Reginald and Sam Jr hit the polished floor hard.
Before they can stand, a tight ring of helmeted THUNDER
TROOPERS surround them, laser weapons raised.
Beyond the guards, a colossal lineup stretches across the
chamber, hundreds of captives ripped from their artistic
worlds, shackled in chains of light.
At the far end, DRAVEN HART sits on a raised stage in a
chair of black steel. His mask is smooth, featureless, a
single narrow slit for vision.
A MONK steps forward from the captive line, robed,
barefoot, serene.
He produces two masks from his sleeves.
One is the COMEDY MASK, wide smile, exaggerated joy.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The other is the TRAGEDY MASK, long face, carved grief.
He holds the COMEDY MASK to his face.
Instantly, joy. Radiant. Peaceful.
He lowers it.
Raises the TRAGEDY MASK.
Presses it to his face.
Instant sorrow.
He lowers both masks and looks to Draven Hart.
MONK
See? I hold joy… and suffering.
Light and shadow. I possess the
Duality.
Draven Hart’s not impressed. He slams a button on the
throne’s arm.
WHOOSH —
A trapdoor snaps open beneath the monk. He vanishes.
DRAVEN HART
Next.
The crowd parts as a wiry man is shoved forward -- MYLES
MARKER, corduroy blazer, turtleneck, thick-rimmed
glasses. He’s slow-clapping and grinning.
MYLES
This is so ironic. I reviewed this
Star Wars rip-off in my novel.
DRAVEN HART
State your name.
MYLES
Myles Marker, Film Critic
extraordinaire. I’m the main
character in the novel -- wait for
it..wait for it...The Movie
Critic.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
MYLES (CONT'D)
Okay, it’s unpublished, but once
the studio head who tried to kill
me over a bad review gets written
back into the novel, we’ll be
pitching again.
DRAVEN HART
Do you possess the Duality?
MYLES
Don’t you mean the Force?
DRAVEN HART
Force? I apply it. Relentlessly.
MYLES
No, no, the Force. You know…
mystical energy, Luke Skywalker,
Jedi Knights, Lightsabers...
DRAVEN HART
We have the Astral Knights.
MYLES
Not the same, man.
DRAVEN HART
DO. YOU. POSSEES. THE. DUALITY?
MYLES
I told you, the only person who
has the force, or as you like to
call it “the Duality” is in a
galaxy far far away.
DRAVEN HART
I will send my knights to find
him. What does he look like?
MYLES
Well --
(looks around, sees
Sam Jr)
He looks like him...but imagine
him older, with less puffy
clothes, a serious tan, and long
heroic blond hair.
Draven turns to Sam Jr.
DRAVEN HART
Bring him.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
MYLES
Did you know your name is an
anagram of Darth --
WHOOSH
The trapdoor beneath Myles opens. As he falls—
MYLES
V-A-D-E-R!
Sam Jr is shoved to his knees before the throne.
DRAVEN HART
Do you possess the Duality?
SAM JR
I don’t know what that is, sir.
DRAVEN HART
The Duality is the current that
moves through the chosen. It is
what gives the Order of the Astral
Knights their power.
Sam Jr gestures awkwardly toward Sir Reginald.
SAM JR
Uh..he might know about that. He’s
a knight and he says he has
special powers.
DRAVEN HART
So you do not possess special
powers?
SAM JR
No. Where I come from, we’re not
allowed to be special.
WHOOSH
Sam Jr falls through the trapdoor.
DRAVEN HART
(points to Sir
Reginald)
The costumed one. Bring him
forward.
Guards shove Sir Reginald to the foot of the throne.
DRAVEN HART
Do you command the Duality?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
SIR REGINALD
In my realm, it is called
something else.
DRAVEN HART
Explain.
SIR REGINALD
When a beast unleashes its fury --
flame, claws, rage -- it bends to
my will. I can claim its violence
and turn it where I choose.
DRAVEN HART
How?
SIR REGINALD
By vow. By eye. By standing close
enough to die and not stepping
back. I fix my will to theirs and
their rage hesitates. I can turn
it, or lower it.
DRAVEN HART
You pacify apex predators with
posture and poetry?
SIR REGINALD
With power. I call it the Vow.
DRAVEN HART
Prove it.
SIR REGINALD
Summon me a dragon.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
27 -
Taming the Legend
INT. THE PLANET ENDER — DRAGON PIT
Sir Reginald stands at the edge of the arena floor.
Tattered WAR BANNERS hang from iron hooks, dragon sigils,
conquest emblems, burned, shredded, half-fallen.
A massive iron gate at the far end slowly grinds open.
From the darkness -- the DRAGON emerges. Chained. Not
once, but three times.
It’s eyes flare, and then fire roars from its jaws,
smashing the wall in a wash of orange.
A slow, knowing smile spreads across Sir Reginald’s face.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SIR REGINALD
It’s you. From our tale.
The dragon turns, scenting him. Its snarl softens, just a
fraction.
High above, Draven Hart watches from an imperial box.
DRAVEN HART
That creature has destroyed
battalions. It does not kneel. It
does not obey. Tame it.
The dragon releases a low, volcanic growl, scraping claws
against stone.
Sir Reginald steps forward.
SIR REGINALD (CONT’D)
Easy now, old friend. We’ve met
before… on a finer stage.
The dragon circles him, nostrils flaring.
The gates slam shut behind Sir Reginald.
The pit is sealed.
The dragon lunges, chains snap like gunshots.
Sir Reginald dives as the dragon’s tail whips across the
floor, smashing a pillar into shards.
SIR REGINALD
Ha! A dance of death! I lead!
He grabs a dangling chain, swings wide as the dragon
exhales a firestorm.
Sir Reginald lands hard, rolls, cloak singed. He rips a
banner from the wall, wraps it around his arm like a
shield.
The dragon slams a claw down. Sir Reginald vaults over
the talon, grabs another chain, and climbs fast.
Sir Reginald scrambles up the chain. The dragon thrashes,
sending him swinging like a pendulum.
He lands astride the dragon’s neck. The beast bucks
violently, slamming him against a wall.
He clings to a jagged scale, teeth gritted.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
Inches from the dragon’s molten eyes. He whispers
fiercely:
SIR REGINALD
You’re no beast… you’re a legend.
And legends bow to glory.
He yanks a chain, twists it like a bridle.
The dragon rears, then stops. Its snarl softens. Chains
go slack.
With a heavy, reluctant breath, the dragon lowers its
neck beneath Sir Reginald.
Sir Reginald, astride the tamed dragon, cloak billowing,
arms raised like a conquering hero.
SIR REGINALD
Behold! The Duality of Sir
Reginald Drakenbane!
Genres:
["Fantasy","Action","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
28 -
Whispers of Imagination
INT. THE PLANER ENDER - DUNGEON
A cavernous holding area beneath the throne room.
Rows of prisoners huddle in silence, icons from shattered
artistic worlds, stripped of glory.
Sam Jr sits alone. Knees pulled up.
Then -- a soft sound. A woman CRYING.
Sam Jr turns and sees a BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN huddled in the
far corner, head bowed, hair veiling her face, wearing a
dark, high-waisted dress with long sleeves.
Sam Jr moves over to her.
SAM JR
Can I help you?
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
I can’t let anyone see me.
SAM JR
Why..why not.
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
I’ve lost my happiness.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
Where I come from… we’re not
supposed to be happy.
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
That sounds like an awful place.
SAM JR
We don’t have stories. Or plays.
Or actors.
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
No art?
SAM JR
We’re not allowed to have it.
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
Then make it. If the world gives
you none… let it live in your
mind.
SAM JR
You mean… pretend? Like actors?
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
Not pretend. Imagine. Picture the
things you’ve never seen...colors,
music, stories. When you imagine
them… they exist. Art begins in
the mind long before it hangs on a
wall.
SAM JR
If I ever get home… I’ll try that.
BROWN-HAIRED WOMAN
Remember this -- beauty is not in
the canvas, nor the stone. It is
in the eye that dares to behold.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
29 -
The Armor of Irony
INT. THE PLANET ENDER – ARMORING CHAMBER
A militarized room lined with rows of futuristic armor.
Sir Reginald stands on a raised fitting platform, arms
outstretched. Robotic arms descend and latch onto him,
locking in a sleek, futuristic body armor.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… look at me! A
warrior for the ages!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
He admires himself in the mirror. Two Thunder troops
stand nearby.
SIR REGINALD
Tell me, good fellow, what becomes
of the prisoners? Surely they’re
treated with honor?
THUNDER TROOPER #1
They’re treated very fairly, sir.
SIR REGINALD
Good. Fairness is the marrow of
chivalry.
THUNDER TROOPER #1
They’re fed to the dragon. A
glorious send-off… as you would
say.
A crack of horror flashes across Sir Reginald’s face
before he hides it
SIR REGINALD
Ah… yes. Glorious indeed.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
30 -
The Defiance of Sir Reginald
INT. THE PLANET ENDER - GRAND HALL
Draven Hart and Sir Reginald stand on a towering stage
facing thousands of Thunder troopers standing in perfect
formation.
DRAVEN HART
Soldiers of the Planet Ender!
Tonight, the Duality has returned
to us!
Boots pound the floor like war drums.
DRAVEN HART
Behold Sir Reginald Drakenbane! He
shall lead you into a new age of
conquest!
The troops chant his name like a battle hymn.
DRAVEN HART
And now… our greatest triumph. The
weapon that will cleanse the
cosmos!
A massive curtain drops, unveiling the OBLITERATOR, a
colossal black cannon, its barrel glowing crimson
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
DRAVEN HART
Any planet that resists us will be
ended!
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George’s honor… you never
spoke of this! I pledged my steel
to tame beasts, not to lay waste
to worlds!
DRAVEN HART
Slaying dragons or slaying worlds.
Is there really a difference?
SIR REGINALD
Of course there’s a difference!
I’m a Dragon TAMER, not a dragon
SLAYER. If I were a slayer, I’d be
in the Young Adult section in the
bookstore stacked between all
those cool heroes with their
brooding stares and leather
jackets. But I’m in the Children’s
section where I get to gaze across
the aisle at Little Bo Peep…
(softens, almost
dreamy)
And by Saint George, she’s
adorable. Those ribbons… that
bonnet… a vision of pastoral
beauty.
DRAVEN HART
So you will not lead us to
victory?
SIR REGINALD
Hear me plain: I’ll not march
beneath your banner, nor stain my
honor with the ruin of worlds.
DRAVEN HART
Seize him!
Sir Reginald spins, cloak flaring as troopers surge
forward. His blade flashes, a streak of steel against
black armor.
He fights like a knight from legend, parrying energy
blades, vaulting over troopers, ripping down chains and
banners to turn them into weapons.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
Blaster fire scorches the air as Sir Reginald leaps onto
a fallen trooper, kicks off, and dives through a side
hatch.
INT. THE PLANET ENDER - SERVICE TUNNELS – CONTINUOUS
Sir Reginald sprints through the narrow corridor, skids
around a corner, wrenches open a hatch, and drops into a
maintenance shaft.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
31 -
Escape from the Dungeon
INT. THE PLANET ENDER - DUNGEON – CONTINOUS
The ceiling hatch bursts open. Sir Reginald drops in like
a fallen star, landing beside Sam Jr and the brown-haired
woman.
SAM JR
SIR REGINALD?!
Sir Reginald gets to his feet.
SIR REGINALD
Come. Time to turn this tragedy
into a triumph.
Sam Jr points to the woman.
SAM JR
We can’t leave her here.
SIR REGINALD
This is no time to be a white
knight, lad.
SAM JR
She comes or I stay.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… the boy who once
feared his own shadow now stands
like a knight before dragons.
Very well. We take her too.
Sir Reginald strides over to her.
SIR REGINALD
My fair lady, Sir Reginald
Drakenbane at your service.
The woman turns around to face him.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
It’s MONA LISA. Her gaze calm, enigmatic, even here in
dungeon.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… I gazed upon your
portrait in France. And now… you
grace this place in the flesh.
Alarms WAIL above.
The door bursts open. The Thunder Troopers flood in.
Sir Reginald, Sam Jr, and Mona Lisa stand trapped.
The troopers snap their weapons up in flawless formation.
Red targeting beams lock onto Sir Reginald’s chest.
Draven Hart steps through the crowd.
DRAVEN HART
End this.
Sir Reginald gestures to Sam Jr.
SIR REGINALD
Watch and learn, lad. This is how
one speaks to beasts..even those
wearing helmets.
He closes his eyes. Then shifts his feet in a slow,
deliberate pattern -- a knight’s dance, half-ritual, half-
duel stance
SIR REGINALD
By vow once sworn, By fire once
faced, I bind your steel to truth.
Turn your blades. Face the master
of this hall.
A low vibration settles over the room, like a spell
taking hold.
Troopers glance down, confused. Their weapons jerk in
their grips. Then--one by one, the weapons rotate.
Now aimed squarely at DRAVEN HART.
He stiffens behind the mask, the narrow visor widening
with sudden alarm.
DRAVEN HART
I don't remember this.
(looks around room)
Was this in the script?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
He reaches inside his robe. Pulls out a spiral-bound
SCREENPLAY. Flips it open and starts thumbing through the
pages.
DRAVEN HART
Did I miss the new pages?
Because I absolutely did not
approve a “turn the lasers around
on me” revision. Someone get my
agent on the phone.
Then -- the ceiling EXPLODES in a storm of steel and
fire. The Dragon plunges through the shattered roof.
Flames erupt from its jaws, sweeping across the troopers.
The dungeon becomes an inferno.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George, our steed awaits!
The dragon lowers its neck like a bridge and the three
jump on.
The dragon launches upward through the gaping hole.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The dragon bursts into a realm of swirling color and
artwork.
SIR REGINALD
Onward! To glory and freedom.
As they soar into the Artaverse we:
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
32 -
Artistic Encounters and Chaotic Journeys
INT. PRESIDENT SAM’S GALLERY – NIGHT
Masterpieces line the walls in this vast hall -- Monet,
Van Gogh, Rembrandt, each under soft lighting.
President Sam strides in, immaculate tuxedo, bow tie
sharp, posture carved from confidence.
Around him, the gallery is filled with impossible guests:
famous figures from paintings, plays, concerts, movies,
mingling like aristocrats at a ball.
From the shadows, JEEVES emerges -- the perfect butler --
carrying a silver tray lined with martinis.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
JEEVES
Martini, sir?
PRESIDENT SAM
Shaken or stirred?
JEEVES
Shaken, of course, sir.
President Sam takes a martini and moves on.
That’s when he sees her.
Across the gallery, framed by a marble column, SCARLETT
O’HARA stands in emerald satin, dark hair swept high in
immaculate curls, eyes sharp and appraising -- every bit
the Southern hurricane in silk.
President Sam crosses the room.
PRESIDENT SAM
I haven’t seen you here before.
SCARLETT
Well, darlin’, you wouldn’t have.
I’ve been laced up tighter than a
corset at a summer picnic. But the
moment a woman finds herself in
the public domain… the world opens
up considerably.
PRESIDENT SAM
Aw, copyright laws. Remarkable how
a story can be locked away longer
than a person.
SCARLETT
And yet here we are. What about
you, Mr. President? Have you
always loved art this much?
PRESIDENT SAM
My family’s been collecting it
since my great-grandfather first
sat in the Gray House. He believed
art needed… protection. From the
public. From society. From the
damage it could do if left out in
the open.
SCARLETT
My, my, a man who thinks beauty is
dangerous.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
PRESIDENT SAM
Not dangerous. Influential. And
influence, Miss O’Hara… is never
something to leave unattended.
SCARLETT
Well, where I’m from, folks always
said the world would be a kinder
place if beauty wasn’t locked away
from ordinary people.
PRESIDENT SAM
Frankly, Scarlett…
(beat)
I don’t give a damn....about
ordinary people.
Scarlett gives him a cool smile.
PRESIDENT SAM
Thankfully, you are far from
ordinary. Come. There’s one piece
in this gallery I never tire of. A
personal favorite.
SCARLETT
(she takes his arm)
Well then, sugar… lead on. Let’s
see what sort of treasure a man
like you keeps at the top of his
list.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
Sir Reginald grips the reins; Sam Jr holds on ahead of
him; Mona Lisa sits steady at the rear, calm amid the art
storm.
SIR REGINALD
My lady, your valley! Do you know
how to find it from here?
Mona looks out to a horizonless sea of color and motion.
MONA
No. Not from this place.
My world has no map.
SAM JR
So… we’re lost?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Before she can answer, the dragon rumbles, a deep,
deliberate sound. Then it exhales two heavy bursts of
smoke into the air.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… the beast knows.
He drank from the river in your
valley. He carries its memory. He
knows the way home.
The beast tilts its head, then banks sharply, wings
cutting through the chaos with purpose.
Genres:
["Drama","Fantasy"]
Ratings
Scene
33 -
The Vanishing of Mona Lisa
INT. PRESIDENT SAM’S GALLERY – NIGHT
President Sam and Scarlett walk toward a discreet,
guarded doorway set into the far wall.
SCARLETT
Well… this one gets its own room.
PRESIDENT SAM
Mona doesn’t like to share
attention.
SCARLETT
A lady, then. She must be special.
PRESIDENT SAM
Yes. She is. There’s only one
Mona.
EXT. ARTAVERSE - ITALIAN RIVER VALLEY - DAY
Rolling hills and cypress trees frame a wide river, the
entire landscape sitting inside a great, ornate painting
frame suspended in the Artaverse.
On a grassy rise, bathed in soft, even light, a
Renaissance ARMCHAIR waits.
The Dragon glides in and lands beside it.
Mona Lisa slides down from the dragon’s back with
effortless grace and moves to the chair.
She looks back up at Sir Reginald and Sam Jr.
MONA LISA
My thanks… for your kindness. You
have borne me home, to the place
my heart remembers.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
Will we… I see you again?
MONA LISA
We are not lost to each other,
child. So long as you can imagine
me… I am never truly gone.
Remember what I told you. Art
lives wherever a mind is willing
to see it.
She takes her seat.
MONA LISA
Our paths part here. I must return
to where I belong.
Then she, the chair, and the valley vanish, dropping Sam
Jr, Sir Reginald, and the dragon back into the swirling
Artaverse.
INT. PRESIDENT SAM’S GALLERY – PRIVATE ROOM – NIGHT
President Sam and Scarlett enter the room.
On the far wall: only a faint outline of where a painting
once hung.
President Sam freezes -- his martini stops halfway to his
mouth.
Scarlett takes it in, amused.
SCARLETT
Well, mercy me… your beloved Mona
has gone with the wind.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Metafiction"]
Ratings
Scene
34 -
The Call of the Mona Lisa
INT. TELEPORTER TERMINAL - DAY
Above the portal, the ESSENCE TOTAL drops -97,016 points.
The CURATOR looks up.
A beat too long.
The Curator turns to the data wall.
CURATOR
Identify object.
The wall floods with data. It settles: MONA LISA.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
CURATOR
Initiate outbound trace.
The wall clears. Rebuilds.
Data assembles...before it can finish, the COMM SCREEN
ignites.
ON SCREEN: PRESIDENT SAM
PRESIDENT SAM
WHERE. IS. MONA?
The Curator lenses flick back to the data wall.
The trace completes. A location locks in: PARIS.
EXT. PARIS – THE LOUVRE – DAY
The iconic glass pyramid rises under a dull gray sky.
INT. LOUVRE – GRAND HALL - DAY
Rows of uniform desks fill the vast space where art once
hung.
Worker bees in gray suits type mechanically at their
holograph screens.
One WORKER pauses, something catches his eye at the far
end of the hall.
He rises, leaving his desk.
Another worker notices, then another.
People begin drifting toward the source.
At the far wall hangs a single picture frame, its colors
alive against the gray expanse. A face serene, timeless.
A smile that shifts like a shadow, never the same twice.
The MONA LISA.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
35 -
Chase Through the Artaverse
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The Dragon tumbles through the chaotic artistic void with
Sam Jr and Sir Reginald hanging on for dear life.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SIR REGINALD
I do not understand how she simply
vanished.
The dragon wobbles, then corrects itself.
As it does, Sir Reginald rips at the last pieces of his
sci-fi armor — unlatching a chest plate, tearing off a
shoulder guard, flinging a gauntlet into the swirling
cosmos.
SIR REGINALD
Go back to the place I truly
belong she said. What pray tell
does that mean?
Out of nowhere a metallic ARM snaps in from behind the
dragon and clamps around Sam Jr’s torso.
He’s yanked upwards -- gone -- before he can answer.
SIR REGINALD
How does one leave this place?
No reply.
SIR REGINALD
Has the lad no words?
Sir Reginald turns. Sam Jr has disappeared.
SIR REGINALD
Sam?
He looks up.
Above, the ARCHIVIST’S SHIP glides away, its extraction
arm stretched behind it, Sam Jr dangling in the claw.
Sir Reginald doesn’t hesitate. He hauls the reins, hard.
SIR REGINALD
Hold fast, old girl.
The dragon answers instantly, wings snapping wide,
surging forward.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP - CONTINUOUS
The Archivist stands at the viewing window as Sam Jr is
dragged towards the ship.
EXT. ARTAVERSE - CONTINOUS
The dragon banks sharply, closing the distance.
Sir Reginald leans low, reading the ship’s movement.
SIR REGINALD
She’s heavy. She favors straight
lines. We dance.
The dragon dives, then climbs, cutting underneath the
ship’s path.
Sir Reginald points.
SIR REGINALD
Fire. Short bursts.
The dragon exhales. A controlled jet of flame streaks
past the ship’s hull not to destroy, but to herd.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP - CONTINUOUS
Alarms BLARE.
ARCHIVIST
Thermal variance. Compensate.
Cooling vents snap open along the bulkhead, blasting out
a controlled fog.
ARCHIVIST
Deploy containment armature.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
36 -
Artful Escape
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
A mechanical armature unfurls from the ship’s flank -- an
enormous ROLL OF INDUSTRIAL SHRINK WRAP.
It fires.
FWUMP!
The clear plastic sheeting explodes outward, unspooling
in midair like a ghostly web, and snaps around the
dragon’s wings.
Sir Reginald fights the reins, furious.
SIR REGINALD
Unhand my steed!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The dragon twists, tearing through part of the wrap, but
more deploys.
Another module slides out.
This one launches MASSIVE FOAM BLOCKS, used to brace
sculptures.
They thud into the airspace around the dragon, blocking
its flight path, forcing it to slow.
Sir Reginald spots an opening.
SIR REGINALD (CONT’D)
Now! Full breath!
The dragon ROARS and unleashes fire, a broad, furious
blast.
The blaze incinerates the wrap, melts the foam just
enough to break free.
They surge forward again.
Sam Jr comes into view, still dangling in the claw,
reaching toward them.
SAM JR
Sir Reginald!
The extraction arm strains behind the ship -- taut -- Sam
Jr’s weight pulling hard against the joint.
Sir Reginald slaps the dragon’s cheek.
SIR REGINALD
NOW!
The dragon snaps her head back and exhales.
FIRE roars out, a focused blast, slamming into the arm’s
joint.
Metal shrieks.
The arm SEARS, then SNAPS.
Sam Jr’s flung free, spinning, tumbling end over end
through the color and dark sky.
Sir Reginald snaps the reins.
SIR REGINALD
DOWN!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
The dragon dives, wings folding as they rocket after him.
INT. ARCHIVIST’S SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The Archivist watches Sam Jr fall.
ARCHIVIST
Pursuit.
The ship drops its nose and plunges after them.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The dragon plummets. Sir Reginald leaning low, cutting
through drifting art.
Sam Jr flails, then sees them -- the dragon’s wings.
At the last second, the dragon drops under him.
Sam Jr slams onto its back, rolls, and grabs a scale.
Sir Reginald twists, grabs him, yanks him secure.
SIR REGINALD
HOLD FAST, LAD!
The dragon surges upward, then banks sharply,
accelerating into a dense art field of paintings, books,
musical scores, stages, spinning in every direction.
INT. ARCHIVIST’S SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The dragon weaves deeper into the art field.
Distance grows.
ARCHIVIST
Cease pursuit.
She turns from the window.
ARCHIVIST
Summon the Curator. We need a new
capture strategy.
EXT. PARIS – LOUVRE – DAY
CLOSE ON: A PATCH on the back of an A.R.T. agent.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
He moves to the right revealing the Louvre.
Above the roof, helicopters beat the air.
On the ground, military vehicles roll hard across the
plaza.
Helmeted agents fan out with crisp, practiced precision.
INT. LOUVRE – GRAND GALLERY – DAY
A.R.T. agents pour into the hall.
Rows of office workers stand shoulder to shoulder,
silent, facing one wall.
The LEAD AGENT pushes forward.
LEAD AGENT
MOVE! MOVE! MAKE WAY!
A narrow gap opens. Then another.
He forces through, the crowd parts slowly, a human funnel
forming under pressure.
He reaches the front rank, stops and sees -- the MONA
LISA.
Impossible to ignore.
The agents behind him drift in, one by one, their
momentum dying as each catches the painting.
Hands lower. Posture eases.
For a long beat, they aren’t A.R.T. agents at all.
They’re just people looking at a face.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
37 -
A Colorful Refuge
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The dragon weaves through the crowded field, its rhythm
faltering.
Sir Reginald notices and pats her neck.
SIR REGINALD
Easy… easy. You shall have all the
rest you desire once we’re home.
The dragon rumbles, low, uneasy.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SIR REGINALD
You do remember the way home?
The dragon hesitates. Another wobble.
SIR REGINALD
Aha. So neither of us does.
He surveys the swirling chaos.
SIR REGINALD
Very well. A refuge first. Then a
plan.
Sam Jr spots a WOODSTOCK FESTIVAL POSTER drifting ahead:
psychedelic colors and warped band names swirling across
it. The peace sign is gone, leaving only its white
outline.
SAM JR
(points)
That seems...cheerful.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… it’s looks like a
tavern sign painted by a drunk
wizard
The dragon drops and thumps down onto painted grass that
ripples like liquid tie-dye.
A cluster of HIPPIES lounge nearby. At the center sits
SUNFLOWER BILL, sixties, beard to his chest, orange
sunglasses, hair like tangled sunshine.
He spots the dragon landing, his eyes widening behind the
shades.
SUNFLOWER BILL
Holy Hendrix on a hay bale…
Puff the Magic Dragon’s here!
The other HIPPIES cheer, lifting their arms, shaking
tambourines and maracas.
Sir Reginald slides off the dragon with theatrical
dignity, his cape, doublet, boots, all unintentionally
matching the hippies’ swirling palette.
Sam Jr hops down beside him, equally colorful in his
mismatched, genre-confused attire.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SIR REGINALD
This creature’s name is not Puff.
And he is certainly not magical.
He is a dragon. A noble, dangerous
beast. He breathes fire, not fairy
dust. He seeks rest after a long
tour.
SUNFLOWER BILL
Oh, you cats have been touring.
Where’s the rest of your band?
SIR REGINALD
This is it.
SUNFLOWER BILL
Groovy, a duo. But I hate to break
it to you. The concert can’t go
on.
(point to peace
symbol outline)
Our peace sign has disappeared.
HIPPIE #2
It’s like it just drifted off into
the cosmos, man…gone on some far-
out trip without us.
SIR REGINALD
This wound is not yours alone.
Every world we’ve passed something
has been taken from it. Split.
Torn apart.
SUNFLOWER BILL
That’s a heavy trip, man. Like the
universe is losing its groove.
SIR REGINALD
We have been on a quest to right
this wrong. Alas, our dragon needs
some rest and then we’ll go find
your peace sign.
SUNFLOWER BILL
C’mon, knight dude… your dragon
looks bushed. We got a mellow
meadow where he can tank up on
some prime hippie chow.
SIR REGINALD
If it restores his strength, then
lead on. He has carried us
bravely.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
Two of the Hippies gently guide the dragon away, petting
her scales while humming soft peaceful chants.
Sir Reginald follows.
Sam Jr lingers as the psychedelic colors ripple over him,
each one landing like a tiny revelation.
A cluster of FLOWER CHILDREN — MOONBEAM, JUNIPER, and SKY
drift toward him, painted cheeks, daisy crowns, bare feet
brushing the grass.
MOONBEAM
Hey there, little traveler. You
look kinda spun around.
SAM JR
Yeah...I’m trying to understand
something. All this color… all
these feelings…
(beat)
Why me? Why am I here?
MOONBEAM
Oh, sweet child… why are any of us
here? We’re all bits of cosmic
confetti tumbling through the big
mystery.
SAM JR
No, not that.
(points up to
Artaverse)
Here. This world. This place. Why
was I brought here? To see colors?
To see stories? To see people
laugh and cry and sing? I think… I
think the lady wanted me to see
all of this.
They tilt their heads.
JUNIPER
What lady?
SAM JR
The lady..she was made of colors.
She could fly and disappear.
SKY
Wow. Someone’s been vibing with
the incense stash.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
SAM JR
I think I was supposed to see all
of this, so I could show people
back home what life is supposed to
feel like...look like.
SKY
Where’s home, sweety?
SAM JR
Home is...Vanilla. Where
everything’s the same.
JUNIPER
Sounds like where I came from
before my awakening.
SAM JR
I need to go back...I need to go
back home… but I don’t know how.
Moonbeam holds out her hands.
MOONBEAM
C’mon, little traveler. We know
someone who can point the way.
The girls gently take Sam Jr’s hands and leads him toward
a grove of giant painted lotus blossoms, each petal
shifting color with every step.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
38 -
The Smudgekin Uprising
EXT. ARTAVERSE
The THREE SUNFLOWERS IN A VASE painting floats by, the
flowers replaced by black charcoal smudges -- the
SMUDGEKINS from the mentally unstable kid’s drawing.
One opens its tiny white eyes and blinks.
Then another. And another.
Then the entire mass stirs, waking as if sensing
something above them.
They’re right. Above them is the --
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – VIEWPORT - CONTINUOUS
The Archivist watches the shifting black shapes below
with calm inevitability.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
ARCHIVIST
Rise and shine, little ones. Your
assignment awaits.
Below, the Smudgekins pull free from the canvas.
Dozens become hundreds become thousands, clustering into
a black sea that drifts up and hovers before the
viewport.
Then the Smudgekins attack --
A shrieking, giggling cloud of black smudges slam into
the front glass.
SPLAT. SQUELCH. SMEAR.
Within seconds, the front window is covered in thick,
dripping charcoal sludge.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The Archivist’s unimpressed.
ARCHIVIST
Hello to you too. Initiate visual
cleanse.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
FWHOOSH!
Two enormous industrial wiper blades sweeps across the
glass.
FWOOSH—FWOOSH—FWOOSH—
Smudgekins are wiped away in sheets, squeaking black
sludge smeared and flung into space.
They tumble back, scattered, stunned, then begin to
regroup, drawing together into a thick, pulsing black
mass, ready to surge again.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The Archivist calmly lifts a single sheet of paper -- the
disturbing child’s drawing of their house and the
Christmas tree on fire.
The Smudgekins recoil back in horror.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Then -- HOLOGRAPHIC IMAGES of SIR REGINALD, SAM JR and
the DRAGON flash across the forward window.
ARCHIVIST
Bring me the boy and ensure the
Knight and Dragon don’t follow.
Fail, and you’re all going back to
your house. Permanently.
As one, the swarm snaps into formation and tears into the
Artaverse, a streaking ink storm.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
39 -
A Psychedelic Celebration
EXT. WOODSTOCK MEADOW – SUNSET
A rolling meadow of psychedelic grass, colors washing in
slow waves.
The dragon lies sprawled across a cluster of giant
beanbags like a king reclining in a groovy nest.
A respectful circle of HIPPIES offers bowls of lentil
sunshine stew and tall mason jars of swirling rainbow
water. The dragon laps happily.
Nearby, Sir Reginald stands stiffly while a HIPPIE GIRL
tucks a flower crown onto his head and another ties a
friendship bracelet into his cape.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… I feel as though
I am being… decorated.
HIPPIE GIRL
No, you’re being celebrated.
SIR REGINALD
Am I?
(beat)
…Carry on, then.
HIPPIE GIRL #2 steps forward with a plate of brownies,
smiling dreamily.
HIPPIE GIRL #2
Here, Sir Knight, have some
brownies. They’re very uplifting.
Sir Reginald takes the plate, pleased by the generosity.
HIPPIE GIRL #2
Like… spiritually. And vertically.
Possibly diagonally.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
As he chews one, something catches his eye.
Across the meadow -- THE WOODSTOCK MUSIC STAGE.
Towering SPEAKERS stacked on either side. Microphones
waiting on empty stands. Drum kits. Guitars on their
racks.
SIR REGINALD
Pray tell what battlefield is
that?
HIPPIE GIRL #2
That’s the stage. We had half a
million souls on the way… but the
peace sign split. And you can’t
have a concert without your
symbol.
He pops another brownie and heads toward the stage.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
40 -
The Doorway of Love
INT. MAHARISHI’S TENT – CONTINUOUS
A low platform sits in the center, covered in cushions
and swirling tapestries.
On it sits MAHARISHI YOGI, an elderly Indian man, cross-
legged, with a flowing white beard, serene eyes, and a
robe of colors so bright they seem to vibrate.
Sam Jr enters, reluctantly.
SAM JR
Excuse me, sir. The flower
children...although none of them
are children and none of them are
made of flowers..said you could
help me.
MAHARISHI
Welcome, little voyager. Yes, I
can help you go home.
SAM JR
How’d you know I wanted to go
home?
MAHARISHI
Some truths arrive ahead of the
traveler.
SAM JR
Then..can you help me...go home?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
MAHARISHI
I can show you the way… but only
you can open the door.
SAM JR
I don’t feel like someone who can
do that. It sounds impossible.
MAHARISHI
Impossible? My child, everything
here is impossible. And therefore
true. Allow me to show you how.
The Yogi closes his eyes, stretches his arms out, palms
up and --VANISHES.
EXT. LOTUS GROVE – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr rushes out of the tent and sees the Maharishi
floating above the giggling flower children.
MAHARISHI
You see the mind is a doorway. Aim
it with truth and it opens.
Begin with what that world cannot
regulate. Love. Is there a moment
you felt it...truly?
Sam Jr starts to answer. Maharishi lifts a palm.
MAHARISHI
Do not say it. Some things lose
strength when spoken. Keep it
inside. When you truly wish to go
home, let that love lead you. Not
today. When the time is right.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
41 -
The Artaverse Revelation
EXT. WOODSTOCK MUSIC STAGE – DAY
CLOSE ON: a battle-scarred ELECTRIC GUITAR resting on a
stand.
Sir Reginald steps forward, studying the guitar as if it
were a UFO rather than an instrument of music.
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George...
He puts his plate of brownies down on an amp and warily
lifts the guitar.
He examines the strings. The knobs.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Then -- he gives the strings a tentative PLUCK.
BWAAANG.
The sound EXPLODES out of the speakers.
Sir Reginald staggers backwards.
SIR REGINALD
SORCERY!
He listens as the sound echoes across the empty field.
He plucks again. Harder.
BWAAANG.
His eyes widen. Pleased.
He strums again. And again.
Louder.
SIR REGINALD
This thing roars like a dragon!
Sir Reginald steps forward and looks out at the vast,
empty field beyond the stage.
He straightens his shoulders. Swallows. Suddenly aware of
himself.
IN HIS MIND’S EYE: A wall of people fill the field,
stretching so far the edges blur into shimmering colors.
HIPPIE GIRL #2 (V.O.)
Peace was calling half a million
souls here...
Then —
He grips the guitar tighter. Takes a breath. Then closes
his eyes
SIR REGINALD (CONT’D)
Imagine dragons. Imagine dragons.
Imagine Dragons.
He opens his eyes.
The crowd is gone. In their place -- DRAGONS. Hundreds of
thousands of them. Snorting smoke. Eyes blazing.
Sir Reginald relaxes instantly.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SIR REGINALD (CONT’D)
Ah. There you are.
He steps forward into a full, heroic POWER GUITAR STANCE.
Then -- winds up and hammers the strings in a savage
sweep. The sound EXPLODES out of the speakers.
Sir Reginald steps up to the microphone.
SIR REGINALD
I am the God of Hellfire and I
bring you fire!
The dragons ROAR and belch FLAMES into the sky.
Sir Reginald plays on, absolutely in his element now.
A knight. A rocker. A legend.
The stage SHAKES.
The sky BURNS.
Until --
A HAND yanks a massive PLUG from a socket.
CLICK.
The MUSIC dies.
The DRAGONS vanish.
SIR REGINALD
Who dares slay the roar mid-
battle?
He turns to the back of the stage and sees --
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC, early 60s, holding the unplugged cord
in one hand. Crisp white lab coat. Iconic Einstein hair —
full, unruly, obviously a wig, and utterly unashamed.
SIR REGINALD
Why has the music ceased?
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Because I’m trying to solve one of
the great mysteries of the
universe and I can’t do it over
all this racket.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
SIR REGINALD
Mystery?
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Yes. I’m trying to figure out how
to get back to my top-rated
television show.
Sir Reginald stares blankly -- huh?
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
You don’t know who I am?
SIR REGINALD
I regret to say I do not.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
I’m Professor Brainiac. I teach
science to teens. On television.
Number one in its time slot three
years running. Think Little
Einstein's hits puberty.
SIR REGINALD
A stein of ale?
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Albert Einstein? Theory of
relativity? E equals m c squared?
(points to the wig)
Wild hair. Marilyn Monroe.
Nothing registers with Sir Reginald.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
(points to brownies)
You really need to lay off those
things.
He motions.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Come over here. I’ll show you.
Sir Reginald scoops up the brownies and joins Professor
Brainiac at the towering speaker stack, its side covered
in chalk; physics equations, spacetime curves, energy
diagrams, frantic revisions.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Okay, at first I thought it was
entropy Classic decay of coherent
systems.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC (CONT'D)
But entropy assumes dissipation.
This isn’t decay, it’s attraction.
So then entanglement. Shared state
violation. But teleportation
breaks locality...totally
unpredictable jump vectors, so I
ruled that out. And once I
accounted for non-linear
displacement --
He looks to Sir Reginald. Nothing’s landed.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
You have no idea what I’m talking
about.
SIR REGINALD
(points)
The circles seem important.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Let me make it simple.
Professor Brainiac casually takes the plate of brownies
from the knight. He flips the brownies away.
Sir Reginald’s mildly put out.
SIR REGINALD
Those...were gifted.
The Professor kneels down and draws on the stage floor a
big looping shape.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
We’re inside what I call the
Artaverse. And before you ask --
yes, I’m trademarking the name.
Paperwork’s ready the moment I’m
out of here.
He draws squares on both side of the loop.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
The squares are the teleporters --
entrance and exit.
SIR REGINALD
Tela --
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Portals.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (5)
SIR REGINALD
Aye.
The Professor places the plate at the entrance portal.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Now imagine this plate is a tv
show or a painting...or a
children’s book.
He takes a black sharpie out from his pocket protector.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
First it gets a barcode.
(looks at a puzzled
Sir Reginald)
Tattoo.
Sir Reginald nods, understanding.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
What piece was missing from your
story when you entered the
Artaverse?
SIR REGINALD
Dragon.
He writes a D on the back right side of the plate.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
What’s the name of your book?
SIR REGINALD
Paper Mache Town...Volume eleven.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
A franchise! Impressive.
He writes “PMT 11” on the other side and slides the plate
into the Artaverse.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Here’s where it gets really
interesting. As soon as your book
entered the Artaverse the tattoos
split apart.
He smashes the plate into two pieces and pushes them far
away from each other.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
You see, the Artaverse is not a
museum. It’s storage facility.
(MORE)
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (6)
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC (CONT'D)
Say someone on the exit side wants
to read Paper Mache Town Volume
Eleven. They can summon it. But it
needs to be teleported in pieces.
I suspect this is why we’ve been
separated. Me from my TV show. The
peace sign from the poster.
SIR REGINALD
Aye, myself from my dragon. Romeo
from Juliet. The Duality from the
Planet Ender.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Exactly.
He slides the two pieces of the plate over to the exit
square and pushes them together.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Now they can read all about the
dashing knight and the fearsome
dragon. I’m assuming this was
built for some secret government
project...but the bureaucracy
behind it is not my concern.
He picks up the two broken pieces of the plate and puts
them back in the artaverse far apart from each other.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
I think… I finally know how to get
back to my show. But the theory
is..well...highly controversial.
Goes against science. Might as
well kiss my Nobel goodbye.
Professor Brainiac brings the two plate pieces back
together -- click -- perfectly aligned.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
When separated inside the
Artaverse, the pieces can be
teleported anywhere. But if they
join again in here, they become
whole. And once they’re whole,
they cannot be sent to the exit
teleporter.
He lifts a now fully complete plate. No longer broken in
half.
Sir Reginald GASPS, stepping back as if witnessing a
miracle.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (7)
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George’s lantern…
sorcery!
Professor Brainiac turns the plate slowly, awed by its
wholeness. The ‘D’ and ‘PMT 11’ staring back at them.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Not sorcery. Art. You see… when an
artwork is complete, it’s no
longer an object. It’s a being.
Not numbers. Not data. A living,
breathing… narrative organism. In
science speak - art is the spark
that teaches matter how to sing.
Sir Reginald stares, spellbound.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
And that song carries a message:
when art is whole, it yearns for
the place it belongs.
A spark of realization flashes across Sir Reginald’s face
SIR REGINALD
By Saint George… Mona!
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Mona?
SIR REGINALD
Aye! We bore the lady home. She
spoke of returning to the place
she belonged… and then vanished
from her chair as though carried
away by the angels.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
Oh my God. You just proved my
theory. I’m getting my time slot
back!
SIR REGINALD
So if I return to my tale -- my
book -- with dragon… we shall be
carried home as well? Back to the
grand shelf of our birth?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (8)
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
YES! Yes, yes, yes! Go! And once
you reach the bookstore, slip out
the back, find the terminal
teleporter, hit the Origin Restore
button, and BOOM! Everybody goes
home!
Sir Reginald straightens, heroic fire returning.
SIR REGINALD
Then by Saint George, a noble
quest awaits! One small matter…
(leans in)
Would you know the way back to my
book?
Professor Brainiac deflates, shoulders sinking.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
You… don’t know how to get back to
your own book?
Sir Reginald lowers his head, ashamed.
SIR REGINALD
Alas… no. The pages of the
Artaverse twist in confounding
ways.
A long, defeated beat.
Professor Brainiac rises -- and the two broken pieces of
the plate slip out from inside his lab coat and DROP onto
the stage
CLINK–CLINK.
Sir Reginald slowly lifts a brow.
A tiny, guilty grin slips onto Professor Brainiac’s face,
the unmistakable look of a magician caught with the
rabbit still in his sleeve.
PROFESSOR BRAINIAC
So -- do you happen to have any
more of those brownies?
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
42 -
A Moment of Despair and Hope
EXT. WOODSTOCK MEADOW - DAY
The dragon shifts on its mound of giant beanbags,
strength returning in slow breaths.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
A group of HIPPIES play a wandering, uncertain game
involving hacky sacks and the occasional chant of “ZORB!”
Sir Reginald sits apart from the fun, visibly downcast.
Sam Jr skips in with the flower children.
SAM JR
Hey— why the sad face, Sir
Reginald?
SIR REGINALD
The quest is over, lad. We may as
well stay here with the flower
folk, eat their enchanted squares,
and sway gently until the universe
forgets us.
(he reaches for a
brownie)
First we’d have to find our book --
assuming it hasn’t drifted into
oblivion. And then tele-whatever
back to the bookstore where we
waited to be bought, and finally
track down this mysterious “origin
restore” contraption at the
entrance gate. Utter nonsense,
lad.
SAM JR
I know where the origin restore
switch is. I saw it when I was in
the Teleporter Terminal.
FLASHBACK TO:
INT. TELEPORTER TERMINAL — DAY
A white pull-down switch, rectangular, sturdy, embedded
in the main data board, its clean color stark against the
steel gray panel.
Above it, in precise system font: ORIGIN RESTORE —
EXTREME EMERGENCY ONLY
END FLASHBACK:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
43 -
Chaos in the Meadow
EXT. WOODSTOCK MEADOW - DAY
Sir Reginald shakes his head.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SIR REGINALD
Knowing isn’t doing. If it were,
I’d be back in my book already,
sipping tea with Little Bo Peep.
SAM JR
I can go home. Now.
SIR REGINALD
I think this place teaches many
fine illusions, lad. Leaving is
not among them.
Sam Jr steps back from Sir Reginald.
SAM JR
Just Watch.
Sam Jr closes his eyes.
MOONBEAM
It’s okay. Just breathe.
Sam Jr takes a deep breath.
SKY
Let it find you.
SIR REGINALD
Lad… cease this folly.
Sam Jr ignores him, eyes squeezed shut.
SIR REGINALD
You are whole now. By every law of
this realm, you should have been
sent home the moment you arrived.
Sam Jr cracks his eyes open.
SAM JR
What do you mean?
SIR REGINALD
Because you’re not truly whole.
Something of you is missing. Until
you recover it, no realm will
release you.
SAM JR
But I’m all by myself.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SIR REGINALD
Aye. And that is precisely why you
cannot leave.
Sam Jr bites down frustration.
SAM JR
I’m still trying.
He plants his feet again, stubborn, determined. He closes
his eyes and stretches out his arms, palms up.
A moment passes..and then another.
Finally, Sam Jr opens his eyes.
He is still in the meadow.
SAM JR
…Nothing happened.
SIR REGINALD
A noble effort, lad.
SAM JR
Maybe… maybe I did something
wrong.
SKY
Just do it again. Slower this
time.
Sam Jr nods, plants his feet again, more carefully now.
His hands rise. Palms facing up. And closes his eyes.
A long beat.
Then Sam Jr grins.
SAM JR
I felt something! On my hand. It’s
working, it’s working! Oh my. I
felt it again...and again!
MOONBEAM
We’ll miss you, little traveler.
Sir Reginald rises slowly to his feet.
SIR REGINALD
Sam…
Sir Reginald steps toward Sam, protective.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
SIR REGINALD
Eyes open, lad. Now.
Sam Jr opens his eyes. A black dot smacks him on the
face.
SAM JR
Is it… raining?
He looks at his hands that are covered in soot.
More smudges hit him.
Not just on Sam Jr -- on the grass. On the beanbags. On
the dragon’s scales.
Moonbeam looks skyward.
MOONBEAM
What’s happening?
A black drop lands on her face. Then another.
The hippies notice. Laughter turns to shouting.
The dragon stirs, uneasy.
The meadow erupts into motion as people scatter.
And the black rain begins in earnest
Not drops.
Not rain.
A TORRENT.
The sky ruptures, a rolling, boiling sheet of darkness
pouring down like ink dumped from the heavens.
Sir Reginald is already moving.
He grabs Sam Jr by the arm and hauls him close.
SIR REGINALD
We leave. Now.
He pivots, dragging Sam Jr towards the dragon.
They lunge forward together as the black tide races after
them, swallowing the meadow in seconds.
Sir Reginald shoves Sam Jr up onto the dragon’s side.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
SIR REGINALD
Fly, girl, FLY!
The dragon beats its wings.
SIR REGINALD
Up! Now!
The dragon heaves, claws digging into the ground.
Its wings snap open and are instantly splattered with
black.
Black shapes slam into its face.
Its eyes vanish beneath smearing ink.
Its wings are plastered, weighted down.
The dragon stumbles and crashes into the meadow with a
bone-shaking WHUMP.
Sir Reginald draws his sword, it flashes once and is
immediately coated.
SIR REGINALD
UNHAND ME, YOU INFERNAL—
A wave of Smudgekins forces him off his feet.
He rolls, choking, buried beneath crawling black.
Sir Reginald claws free, staggering to his feet.
He charges, slashes blindly.
SIR REGINALD
HOLD FAST, LAD—
A second wave hits him, smashes him into the ground,
pinning him.
The dragon thrashes, blinded, screaming in rage and pain,
unable to rise.
Sam Jr is lifted. Being taken.
The Smudgekins surge upward like a living column,
carrying Sam Jr with them.
SAM JR
SIR REGINALD!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (5)
Sam Jr kicks, claws, tries to break free, but the swarm
holds him tight, lifting him higher and higher.
His SCREAMS cut off as the ink closes over him.
The swarm yanks him up into the Artaverse, disappearing
into the swirling color and dark sky above
DISSOLVE TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
44 -
Captivity and Conquest
EXT. ARTAVERSE - ARCHIVIST SHIP
A dark mass drifts toward the viewport.
It gathers into the outline of Sam Jr, his face briefly
visible beneath the writhing black.
From beneath the hull, the extraction arm deploys.
Its claw glides toward the smudge-silhouette.
The Smudgekins fall away, dispersing like ink in water.
Sam Jr’s body drifts free for a beat.
Then the arm slides under him and clamps on, dragging
him towards the ship.
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – CONTINOUS
Sam Jr stands sealed inside the containment tube.
The Archivist approaches.
ARCHIVIST
My… you’ve been busy. So many
places. So many new friends.
She leans in closer.
ARCHIVIST
I’ve found a new home for you.
I’ve had to make a few
adjustments. But I think your
going to like it.
She turns away.
ARCHIVIST
Merry Christmas.
EXT. ARTAVERSE - CONTINUOUS
The Archivist ship moves away revealing Sam Jr trapped
inside the living room of the Smudgekins old house. Back
in his gray pajamas, he’s pressed against the window,
straining to escape.
Behind him, the CHRISTMAS TREE and PRESENTS burn, orange
crayon flames throwing heat and smoke into the room.
The heat is brutal; sweat runs down Sam Jr’s face.
Sam Jr winces, every breath a scorch. He’s running out of
air.
INT. THE GRAY HOUSE – THE SQUARE OFFICE - NIGHT
President Sam sits behind his desk when the phone RINGS.
He picks up.
PRESIDENT SAM
Yes?
CURATOR (O.S.)
Mr. President, the problem has
been neutralized.
PRESIDENT SAM
Good. And Mona?
THE CURATOR (O.S.)
We are in the process of bringing
her back now.
President Sam smiles, pleased.
PRESIDENT SAM
Prepare the Situation Room.
EXT. ART SCHOOL - DAY
A colonial-style hall gleams like a pearl. Spiral towers.
Color banners -- painted suns, musical notes, dancers.
MUSIC and LAUGHTER spill out.
Over the entrance: THE SCHOOL OF ART
An unreal, hyper-saturated lawn, impossible flowers, a
too-white walkway -- everything looks like we’ve stepped
into a game world.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Down the main walk, strides the ARTINATOR -- President
Sam in slate-gray body armor, forearms and chest
bristling with weapons. With a predatory grin, he snaps
his visor shut, and marches terminator-steady, straight
towards the school.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
45 -
Guided by Love
EXT. ARTAVERSE - SMUDGEKIN’S HOUSE
Sam Jr’s eyelids flutter, slipping in and out of
consciousness.
SAM JR
…help me.
A faint glimmer outside the window cuts through the smoke-
stained window.
Sam Jr blinks.
Through the glass drifts the Muse, a figure of living
color in a world of charcoal.
She hovers there, watching Sam Jr with quiet, patient
gentleness.
Color plays across Sam’s face, and suddenly—
FLASH -- MAHARISHI APPEARS IN HER LIGHT
MAHARISHI
When you truly wish to go home…
let that love lead you.
Sam’s breathing slows.
SAM JR
…I want to go home now...
The Muse smiles.
MUSE
You know what to do.
Sam Jr closes his eyes.
IN SAM JR’S MIND’S EYE:
DARKNESS.
At first nothing.
Then -- Sam Jr emerges out of the black, barely
conscious, quietly crying.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
He bows his head.
He lifts his arms… reaching for someone who isn’t there.
A shape steps in from the darkness -- his mother -- and
she folds into him, holding him with a warmth he’s never
known.
Another shape forms behind her -- his father.
He hesitates… then slowly joins the hug.
For the first time in Sam’s life, the three of them are
one.
Tears slide down his cheeks, shifting as the memory of
that family hug rises inside him. Fear dissolves.
Love takes its place, strong enough to steady him.
The light around him blossoms and --
POOF.
He’s gone!
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
46 -
The Great Escape
EXT. SAM JR’S HIGH SCHOOL - PARKING LOT – DAY
Sam Jr appears on the pavement outside his school.
He’s frozen in a hugging stance, arms out, head bowed,
eyes closed, holding on to something that isn’t there
anymore.
He opens his eyes and slowly lowers his arms.
He looks around, taking it in.
Gray surrounds him once more.
He’s home.
INT. TELEPORTAL TERMINAL – CONTINUOUS
A KLAXON BLARES.
The Curator looks up as the ESSENCE TOTAL drops 30
points. He turns to the data wall.
CURATOR
Identify object.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The wall floods with data: barcodes, ID tags, timestamps
assembling and refining and settles: Sam bdTHM2J
CURATOR
Initiate outbound trace.
The wall clears and rebuilds -- vectors, coordinates,
cross-checks until:
LOCATION LOCK: HIGH SCHOOL 14TYOU66
CURATOR
Lock the campus. Deploy A.R.T.
units.
EXT. SAM JR’S HIGH SCHOOL – DAY
A line of A.R.T. vehicles screams to a halt.
Agents spill out, fast, controlled, holographic tablets
lit up.
On every screen: a PULSING BARCODE moving quickly inside
the school.
INT. SAM JR’S HIGH SCHOOL – HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Students move between classes, subdued, orderly, when
Agents flood the halls, scanning.
One AGENT slows, studying his display.
The barcode icon slides along the map, straight toward
the gym.
AGENT #1
He’s heading to the gym.
The agents pivot instantly and rush down the hall toward
the gymnasium door.
INT. GYM – CONTINUOUS
The gym is half-lit. Bleachers empty.
The doors BURST open. A.R.T. AGENTS storm inside, boots
pounding on the hardwood.
LEAD AGENT
Stage! Move!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
They sprint toward the curtains, spreading out in
formation as they approach.
Two agents peel off and take positions on either side of
the curtains.
The Lead Agent raises a fist -- silent count -- THREE.
TWO. ONE --
They rip the curtains open to reveal an -- EMPTY STAGE.
An AGENT looks down at his tablet: the BARCODE SIGNAL has
vanished.
Confused, he sweeps the stage with his eyes --
On the PODIUM, dead center: A roll of GRAY INDUSTRIAL
DUCT TAPE.
EXT. SAM JR’S HIGH SCHOOL – FOOTBALL FIELD – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr runs flat-out across the field, barefoot, still in
his pajamas, breath tearing out of him.
He reaches the chain-link fence and climbs, awkward,
desperate.
As he swings a leg over the top of the fence, his shirt
rides up, revealing GRAY DUCT TAPE slapped over his
BARCODE.
Sam Jr drops hard on the other side and runs.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Fantasy","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
47 -
Chaos and Deception
INT. THE SCHOOL OF ART - DAY
The real Happiest place on earth -- hallways packed with
artists of every stripe singing and dancing, kids
streaming from classrooms hugging paintings, guitars,
books, sheet music -- pure joyful chaos.
A CHEERLEADER breaks through the crowd and slides all the
way to the front double doors, arms stretched out in
glee.
BAM!
The doors kick in and in steps the Artinator.
CROSSHAIRS lock on the Cheerleader. A giant ERASER snaps
out from his chest and completely wipes her away.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
INSIDE THE ARTINATOR’S VISOR HUD explodes +500 --
CREATIVE TERMINATED
Kids SCREAM, scatter. The Artinator advances, predator
unleased.
EXT. THE GRAY AUTHORITY BUILDING – DAY
The windowless concrete structure looms.
Two A.R.T. AGENTS stand guard at the entrance.
Suddenly, Sam Jr runs into the plaza entrance,
breathless, frantic.
He skids to a stop in front of the agents.
SAM JR
There’s a group gathering. Not far
from here.
The agents exchange a quick look.
AGENT #1
Define the group
SAM JR
They’re dressed in...color.
That word lands hard. Both agents stiffen instantly.
AGENT #1
Specify.
SAM JR
Tie-dye. Flowers. Paint on their
faces. They’re sitting on the
ground like it’s a festival.
They’re playing music. Guitars.
Drums. Someone’s singing!
AGENT #1
What is… singing?
SAM JR
It’s coordinated speech at
changing pitches. For enjoyment.
AGENT #2
Enjoyment is not authorized. Where
did you say?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
(points)
Just down the street.
AGENT #2
Stay here.
SAM JR
Of course.
The agents rush off at full speed. Sam Jr slips inside.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
48 -
The Hazmat Heist
INT. THE GRAY AUTHORITY – SERVICE HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr creeps down the corridor, keeping close to the
wall.
Up ahead, a door opens --
Stenciled across it: PERSONNEL LOCKER ROOM
A HAZMAT WORKER steps out, adjusting his visor. The door
starts to close when --
Sam Jr sprints over and slips inside just before it
seals.
CUT TO:
Sam Jr steps back out into the hallway, now wearing a
hazmat suit. The hood flops slightly; sleeves a little
long. But he looks the part. He walks the hallway with
manufactured confidence.
Sam Jr rounds a corner and enters the CART STATION — an
organized space marked by a waist-high perimeter rail.
Signs reads: AUTHORIZED CART OPERATORS ONLY
Inside the rail: Rows of carts loaded with GRAY AGENT
canisters.
Sam Jr tries to slip past the gate when --
SUPERVISOR SAM (O.S.)
Sam — aBUB9a!
Sam Jr spins around as Supervisor Sam strides in, tapping
a datapad.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SUPERVISOR SAM
You’re early.
(checks his pad
again)
You weren’t scheduled for another
forty minutes.
SAM JR
Yes...I’m...uh..
SUPERVISOR SAM
(interrupt)
Trying to get Employee of the
Month, huh?
SAM JR
Uh...yes...
SUPERVISOR SAM
Alright then, overachiever. Carry
on.
Sam Jr nods and walks toward a row of GRAY AGENT carts,
reaching for the handle of one.
SUPERVISOR SAM
Whoa— whoa— whoa. You’re in a
hazmat suit for a reason, Sam
aBUB9a!
He points to the single lonely cart off to the side — the
one with the canister labeled: DANGER: CLARIFIER — NRE
USE ONLY
SUPERVISOR SAM (CONT’D)
You’re on a Clarifier cart today.
Remember? Special duty.
SAM JR
Oh. Right. Yes. I… uh… must still
be half-asleep from getting here
too early.
Sam Jr shuffles over, grabs the lone Clarifier cart.
SUPERVISOR SAM
And, Sleepy Head, keep that away
from the Gray Agent. Mix them, and
none of us will be around for the
next Employee of the Month awards.
Sam Jr offers a shaky thumb-up and rolls the cart away.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Action","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
49 -
Chaos in the Chamber
INT. ATMOSPHERIC SIMULATION CHAMBER – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr pushes the Clarifier cart into the hall.
Workers man consoles beneath a churning artificial gray
sky.
The Gray Agent intake rack stands ahead, rows of
identical canisters being lifted, docked, and injected
into the system in steady, mechanical rhythm.
Sam slows as he approaches it, eyes flicking across the
Gray Agent carts.
He forces himself to keep walking, rolling his lonely
Clarifier canister past the busy line.
Up ahead, workers move with crisp precision, everything
functioning too smoothly for him to interfere.
Then—
A WORKER at a console sits up straight.
WORKER
Skyfield variance! Delta-nine
spike!
Alarms chirp. Workers rush to their stations, shouting
readings, scrambling.
Sam Jr stops.
This is his chance.
Sam Jr wheels the Clarifier cart back toward the rack,
and slides the Clarifier canister into the gray tank
intake row and beelines for the back entrance.
Behind him, the lift system kicks on: THWOOOM.
A Gray canister fires.
FWASH.
Another.
The line keeps cycling. Then the Clarifier rises.
KA-CHUNK
It locks into place. A beat—
FWOOM.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
A violent burst of black mist erupts upward, flooding the
ducts.
INT. THE GRAY AUTHORITY – LOWER CORRIDOR – CONTINUOUS
Sam Jr sprints down the hallway.
PA SYSTEM (V.O.)
Unauthorized Clarifier release.
Atmospheric system destabilizing.
All staff to emergency
containment.
Sam Jr turns a corner, nearly colliding with a cluster of
WORKERS rushing the opposite way.
He hugs the wall, then darts toward a sign: VEGETATION
REDISTRIBUTION → GLASSSHOUSE
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Action","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
50 -
A Storm of Emotions
INT. VEGETATION GLASSHOUSE – CONTINUOUS
Sam Sr stands alone among the dense foliage, misting
wand in hand, methodically spraying the trunk of a
towering indoor gray tree.
Through the high glass above him, the sky seethes, clouds
twisting in a slow, uneven churn.
He stops spraying, focused on the turbulence above.
SAM JR (O.S.)
Dad?
Sam Sr stiffens at the voice. He turns to see Sam Jr
hurrying toward him.
SAM JR
Dad…?
Sam Jr hugs his father.
SAM SR
Sam…? Sam— how—?
SAM JR
I– I escaped...
Sam Jr clings harder.
Sam Sr’s eyes soften, a fleeting moment where he holds
his son like he thought he’d never get the chance again.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM SR
We have to be quiet. If they find
you here…
He steadies Sam Jr by the shoulders.
SAM SR
We need to get you out of here.
SAM JR
Dad, listen, I can’t run.
SAM SR
You can and you will.
SAM JR
Dad… I don’t know how to explain
it. It wasn’t just pictures. Or
sounds. It was… life. Stories.
Adventures. People doing things
because they wanted to, not
because they were told to. I felt
things..real things. Fear,
excitement, joy… like being inside
someone else’s heartbeat. Like the
world suddenly had a thousand
directions instead of one. And
they took all of that away from
us. They hid it. Locked it up.
Decided we should never know what
living actually feels like. But I
saw where they keep it. All of it.
And I know how to get it back. I
have to get into the Terminal.
SAM SR
I’m turning us in. Maybe they’ll
show us some mercy.
Sam Jr holds his ground.
SAM JR
I’m staying.
SAM SR
Sam… this isn’t just about you, or
me, or your mom anymore.
(beat)
Your mother is pregnant. You’ve
got a sister on the way.
This hits Sam Jr like a ton of bricks.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
SAM JR
A sister…
He swallows hard, emotion and fear fighting in his chest.
SAM JR
I don’t want her growing up in
this. In gray. In silence. In a
world that’s… half-alive. She
deserves more than this place. She
deserves to see what I saw here.
In the real world. Not hidden. Not
forbidden. That’s why I have to
go. That’s s why I have to get
into the Terminal. So she can have
a better world than this one.
Sam Sr turns and heads for the door.
SAM SR
I’m turning you in. If I do it
myself… they might spare us. Your
mother. The baby. Maybe even you.
SAM JR
You saw her. The Muse. She tapped
you on the shoulder, and you
didn’t answer. But a Muse doesn’t
give up on someone forever. She
came back...through me.
Sam Sr stops and turns around.
SAM JR
We can change the world. Starting
right now. Answer the Muse.
Off Sam Sr’s expression we:
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
51 -
A Sky of Distraction
INT. LOADING BAY – NIGHT
Dispatcher Samantha sits behind her desk, stamping forms
with mechanical precision.
A shadow crosses her desk. She looks up.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Well. Look who remembers the
stairs still work.
Sam Sr moves towards her desk.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
What brings you down here?
SAM SR
I brought you something you’re
probably looking for.
He steps aside to reveal Sam Jr.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Oh -- was he missing?
(skims notes)
Figures. Basement crew’s always
the last to know. Thank you, Sam
rCNXW8E. I’ll take it from here.
SAM SR
I was hoping for some leniency.
For my son.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
I’ll do my best.
She reaches for her phone.
SAM SR
No need. I can crate him up
myself.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Still remember how?
SAM SR
It’s like riding a bike. Hard to
forget.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Okay.
(points to the spur)
Use crate B-11.
Sam Sr nods and moves with Sam Jr toward the CRATE on the
conveyor spur.
Sam Sr flips the lid open when—
THE MAIN DOORS EXPLODE INWARD.
BOOTS. SHOUTS.
A.R.T. AGENTS storm inside, fanning out fast.
In seconds they surround father and son, forming a tight
perimeter.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
Sam Sr instinctively looks back at Dispatcher Samantha.
A small, knowing smile is on her face -- Gotcha.
The LEAD AGENT steps forward.
LEAD AGENT
Step away from the boy.
Sam Sr instinctively shields his son.
SAM SR
Son, get behind me.
Sam Jr places a steady hand on his father’s arm.
SAM JR
Dad… let me handle this.
Sam Jr steps forward, into the perimeter of weapons.
Then --just like Sir Reginald -- he shifts his feet into
that same slow, deliberate pattern…half-ritual, half-duel
stance. He closes his eyes.
SAM JR
By vow once sworn, By fire once
faced, I bind your steel to truth.
Turn your blades. Face the master
of this hall.
He points towards the Dispatcher.
He opens his eyes.
The Agent’s weapons are still pointed at him.
SAM JR
Hmm..maybe I was standing wrong.
He adjusts his feet. Closes his eyes.
SAM JR
By vow once sworn, By fire once
faced, I bind your steel to truth.
Turn your blades. Face the master
of this hall.
He opens his eyes. Weapons still pointed his way.
SAM JR
Geez...it worked...
He turns back to his dad -- he’s gone.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
SAM SR (O.S.)
HEY! HEY! YOU NEED TO COME OUT AND
SEE THIS!
Heads snap to the main doors. Sam Sr stands outside,
waving frantically.
SAM SR
(pointing up)
The sky...it’s blue!
AGENT #1
Blue?
AGENT #2
Is that a variance?
SAM SR
Hurry! Hurry. The whole sky’s
blue.
Curiosity wins.
Agents surge for the doors, jostling to get out.
Gasps and stunned laughter spill back into the room.
Dispatcher Samantha hasn’t moved.
Then --
SAM SR (O.S.)
THE SUN! THE SUN! I CAN SEE THE
SUN!
AGENT #1 (O.S.)
It’s bright—!
AGENT #2 (O.S.)
It’s real!
Dispatcher Samantha turns to Sam Jr.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
Promise you’ll stay right here.
SAM JR
I promise.
She gets up from her desk.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
I’ve been couped up in this
basement far too long. I need to
see this.
Dispatcher Samantha crosses the floor and pushes through
the main doors.
EXT. LOADING RAMP - CONTINUOUS
Dispatcher Samantha steps into the SUNLIGHT.
The agents stare up at a vast BLUE SKY. The SUN hangs
there, impossible and glorious.
Nobody speaks.
A few agents laugh, giggle. One reaches up like he could
touch it. Another takes off his helmet and just breathes.
Dispatcher Samantha takes another step into it. Warmth
finds her face.
She closes her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth
settle, then opens them, changed in a way that needs no
words.
Finally --
LEAD AGENT
Maybe we should go back and get
the prisoner.
DISPATCHER SAMANTHA
He’ll manage. He’s done it before.
The agents stay rooted, faces tilted to the sun.
LEAD AGENT
Pretty sure the President won’t
mind if we stay out here a few
more minutes.
The word “President” snaps Dispatcher Samantha snaps her
back to reality. She spins around --
The main doors are SHUT. Red locks engaged. Sam Sr gone.
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
52 -
Defiance in the Gym
INT. THE SCHOOL OF ART – GYM – CONTINUOUS
Chaos everywhere. Kids scrambling, backpacks flying,
sneakers slapping the floor as they rush for any exit.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
But on the stage --
A RAPPER, late teens, carved from swagger, refuses to
stop.
Hood up. Chains clinking. Mic in a death-grip.
He stalks the stage, spitting rapid-fire bars, furious,
relentless like the world isn’t collapsing around him.
The GYM DOORS BLAST OPEN.
The Artinator steps inside and strides across the
hardwood floor like a machine sent to erase joy.
The rapper clocks him -- keeps rapping anyway.
Louder.
Angrier.
Daring the world to interrupt him.
The kids flee past the Artinator without him even
glancing at them.
He keeps walking.
The rapper keeps rapping.
Two unstoppable forces on a collision path.
The Artinator reaches the foot of the stage.
The rapper doesn’t back up.
Doesn’t blink.
He leans over the mic --
RAPPER
You filter the light.
I split the sun.
The Artinator lifts a weaponized arm and we:
CUT TO:
Genres:
["Drama","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
53 -
Crates of Fear
INT. TELEPORTER TERMINAL – CONTINUOUS
The Curator watches a monitor.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
ON SCREEN: the RAPPER still going hard onstage as the
ARTINATOR points his arm-weapon at him.
CURATOR
WRAP him up.
ON SCREEN: The Artinator’s forearm unit snaps forward;
SHRINK-WRAP jets out and wraps the Rapper mid-bar, tight,
fast, layer on layer. He drops, fully mummified, mic
still squealing under plastic.
The Curator tilts his head, clinical… entertained when --
An ALARM splits the air.
The Curator tears his gaze from the monitor and looks to
the MAIN CHUTE window where a CRATE rises on the lift.
He pivots to the data wall.
ON SCREEN — BARCODE: Sam bDTHM2J.
A staccato of system chimes:
PRIORITY CLEARANCE — ENGAGED
ROUTE OPTIMIZATION — ACTIVE
The crate shoots off the intake spur and tracks re-align
in a precise, jittery dance, other crates yielding as
it’s shuffled through the network.
The last switch CLACKS.
The crate glides in and stops dead-center in the
teleporter bay.
The alarm cuts.
The Curator tilts his head.
CURATOR
Open it.
Mechanical arms snap up and as they are just about to
clamp on to the sides of the crate --
AN ALARM BLARES.
The Curator glances to the main chute: another crate
rises and is routed toward his bay, fast.
It stops and rests behind Sam Jr’s crate.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
The Curator snaps to the data wall: BARCODE — Sam
bDTHM2J.
The Curator’s eyes flick between the two crates.
Then -- another ALARM.
From the main chute -- another crate pops out.
Then another.
Another.
Until crate after crate after crate rockets through the
opening, switches chattering, tracks stuttering
left/up/across/down in a dizzying shuffle until forming
a long line behind the first crate, all queued for the
portal.
The alarm ceases.
The Curator checks the data wall, every crate pings the
same readout: SAM bDTHM2J
The Curator steps over to the first crate and extends his
arm, expectant.
CURATOR
We’ll open them old school.
From the ceiling rig, a metallic arm swings down and
places a long CROWBAR into his hand.
The Curator lifts the crowbar -- poised above the crate’s
top.
As he’s about to strike --
A COUGH. Distant.
The crowbar eases down. His gaze tracks the line.
CURATOR
Duplication invites error.
He looms down the line, crowbar hanging on his side like
a verdict.
No hurry. Only intent.
He lets the crowbar’s tip kiss a crate --TINK -- then
keeps moving, eyes never leaving the row.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
CURATOR
Error muddies classification.
Another TINK. A pause that feels like a held sentence.
CURATOR
We prefer clarity.
He stops. The crowbar rises a fraction, enough to promise
ruin, then lowers again.
CURATOR
One subject. One tag. One place.
He stops. Plants his feet. Both hands on the bar, perfect
grip.
The crowbar rises in a clean arc and CRASHES down across
the lid’s spine.
Wood splits. Cross-struts shear. The crate caves, lethal.
It’s empty.
He moves on. The threat comes with him.
CURATOR
Sam bDTHM2J, your storage
parameters have been updated: zero
contact events, zero auditory
stimuli, zero egres. Come out
now..and we can deal.
He swings without warning --
CRASH.
Boards burst. Struts snap. The lid collapses in a choking
puff of dust.
Hollow.
Empty.
The Curator surveys the long line of identical crate.
CURATOR
Sam bDTHM2J, present yourself.
No answer.
CURATOR
NOW!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (4)
He steps to the next crate and SWINGS --
CRASH.
Boards burst. Struts snap. The lid folds in on itself.
Empty.
He moves one crate down -- swings --
CRASH.
Another lid caves. Splinters patter across the floor.
Empty.
He hits the third before the dust settles—
CRASH.
The sound ricochets through the bay.
CUT TO:
INT. CRATE – UNKNOWN POSITION – CONTINUOUS
Dark.
Sam Jr, curled in a corner, hears the crowbar through the
wood, a deep shuddering BOOM travelling the frame.
He clamps a hand over his mouth.
Another BOOM, nearer this time. A shower of dust sifts
down.
INT. STORAGE TERMINAL - DAY
The Curator smashes another crate. He moves to the next
one.
CURATOR (CONT'D)
This is my final request.
He pile-drives the crowbar into the crate. It explodes
into shards. Empty.
INT. CRATE – UNKNOWN POSITION – CONTINUOUS
Splinters and broken struts from the next crate SLAM into
Sam Jr’s walls.
He pushes back to the far wall.
INT. STORAGE TERMINAL – CONTINUOUS
The Curator steps forward and faces the next crate.
He studies this one longer -- almost instinctively --
sensing Sam Jr’s presence.
He taps the crate with the crowbar.
INT. CRATE – UNKNOWN POSITION – CONTINUOUS
The tap echoes inside.
CURATOR (O.S.)
Storage doesn’t care if you’re
dead or alive, Sam bDTHM2J.
Genres:
["Science Fiction","Dystopian"]
Ratings
Scene
54 -
Restoration of the Artaverse
INT. STORAGE TERMINAL - DAY
The Curator raises the crowbar, higher than any strike
before, holds it poised.
CURATOR
Last chance.
The crowbar hovers over the target crate.
Then --
SAM JR (O.S.)
NOW, DAD!
Inside the teleporter terminal bay, the first crate lid
pops open.
Sam Sr jumps out of the box at top speed.
The Curator snaps toward him, crowbar dropping, stride
already building.
Sam Sr cuts hard toward the data board, zeroing in on the
white pull-down switch marked: ORIGIN RESTORE — EXTREME
EMERGENCY ONLY.
CURATOR (O.S)
Don’t touch that.
Sam Sr SLAMS his hand onto the switch when --
The Curator leaps into the bay and slams into Sam Sr.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
They both crash to the floor. Sam Sr leaps up first, and
staggers back to the switch.
The Curator, one leg twisted, pulls himself up. He limps
towards Sam Sr when --
SAM JR (O.S.)
Do you possess the Duality?
Perplexed, the Curator turns to Sam Jr standing right in
front of him.
CURATOR
What...what did you say?
SAM JR
DO. YOU. POSSESS. THE. DUALITY.
CURATOR
I...I don’t think so.
SAM JR
Well, then I guess I’m just going
to have to use FORCE!
Sam Jr swiftly steps forward, and with great effort,
pushes the Curator back and into and through the membrane
of the teleporter.
Sam Jr turns to his dad as he PULLS down on the ORIGIN
RESTORE SWITCH and we:
CUT TO:
BLACKNESS
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
We make because silence is too
small to what we feel.
A faint SHUDDER in the nothingness.
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
Because evening sky -- violet,
gold, cannot live in language
alone.
Another shudder.
The dark seems to shift.
Then --
One EYE blinks open.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
Then another.
Calm, knightly -- Sir Reginald through and through.
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
Memory leaks. Days blur. Faces
fade from the light.
His eyes open wider, like something out there just
changed.
What he sees:
The ARTAVERSE reflected in his gaze.
Different now.
The drift is gone. The chaos quieted.
Books, paintings, tapestries, stages, once spinning at
random now glide with purpose, as if drawn by invisible
threads… returning to where they belong.
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
So we press charcoal to paper,
pixel to screen, breath to reed --
A flicker crosses his eyes.
Above, a delicate ribbon drifts, curling into a CIRCLE as
it nears.
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
...anything that says: I was here.
This mattered.
It passes across his eyes, and continues on until it
floats and seats perfectly into the peace sign’s empty
outline.
POOF!
The WOODSTOCK POSTER BLINKS OUT, whisked back to where it
belongs.
All around, the black Smudgekins RISE, like soot pulled
by a unseen draft.
As they lift away, we see what they were clinging to:
SIR REGINALD and the DRAGON.
Suddenly suspended in open air.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (3)
For a heartbeat, it looks like they’re falling, but
they’re not. They’re being drawn.
A gentle, steady pull.
The same pull guiding every piece of art home.
Sir Reginald’s eyes widen, recognition, acceptance.
SIR REGINALD
No need to mount you, old friend.
The tale calls us home.
They let the pull take them, knight and dragon drifting
together toward the place they belong.
As they disappear into the vastness of the Artaverse....
Genres:
["Fantasy","Adventure","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
55 -
The Art of Defiance
INT. THE SCHOOL OF ART – HALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
The ARTINATOR strides down the corridor.
Behind him, his wake: kids wrapped every which way, tape
cocoons, shrink-wrap mummies, foam-blocked statues.
LITTLE GIRL (V.O.)
Art is the bridge to what happens
and what it means. Without it, we
live in facts -- a map with no
color, a song with no air.
The Artinator turns into --
INT. CLASSROOM – CONTINUOUS
Chaos made holy. Every surface explodes with art. Color
everywhere.
In the far corner: a LITTLE GIRL on a tiny chair, book
open in her lap, reading to no one and everyone.
He crosses to her. Stops. She keeps reading.
LITTLE GIRL
We make so the world...
She looks up at him, chin lifted, eyes blazing with a
tiny warrior’s defiance.
LITTLE GIRL
...doesn’t close like a fist.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
Silence. A beat that hangs.
He raises his arm, weapon cycling.
The girl glances down, finds the next line.
LITTLE GIRL
We make so it opens.
A BLINDING LIGHT ERUPTS BEHIND THEM.
A tearing brightness like reality itself is cracking
open.
The Artinator turns to the light.
President Sam opens his visor, perplexed.
PRESIDENT SAM
Is this the game?
The LIGHT surges -- and everything - Little Girl,
classroom, artwork -- President Sam - is sucked into the
light.
The light finally fades and we’re left in a room
identical to the Teleporter Terminal Bay - the Exit
Teleporter.
DISSOLVE TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Sci-Fi","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
56 -
The Enchanted Bookstore
INT. LONDON - EMPTY BOOKSTORE – DAY
Rows of bare shelves.
At the reception desk, an ACCOUNTANT-TYPE sits on a
stool, punching numbers into a holographic ledger,
mechanical, bored, half-asleep.
A small movement catches his eye.
A flick of color where there should be none.
He rises slowly, crosses the room, and stops at a shelf.
There, sitting alone on the wood: A BOOK.
Bright. Illustrated.
LITTLE BO PEEP.
He stares at it...stunned.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
He reaches down and lifts it with both hands.
A SOFT THUMP behind him.
He turns.
On another shelf -- a second book now sits there.
PAPER MACHE TOWN: VOLUME 11.
On the cover -- heroic Sir Reginald standing ready
against his fire-breathing dragon, though his eyes tilt
the faintest bit toward Little Bo Peep.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Books begin appearing across the store, one here, then
three more, then entire rows blooming into existence.
Children’s picture books. Novels. Classics. Atlases.
Fairy tales. Poetry.
The accountant steps back as the transformation rolls
past him until the whole room stands restored: A warm,
crowded, old school bookstore.
THUD.
A loud, impossible THUD.
He startles, turning toward the front window.
Across the street -- in the middle of the quiet little
park --
A STAGE has LANDED.
Not built.
Dropped.
And standing on it, in full costume, mid-scene: ROMEO and
JULIET.
Performing their play as if they’ve simply… resumed where
they left off.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Mystery","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
57 -
A Burst of Color and Wonder
EXT. BOOKSTORE – DAY
The Accountant steps out, LITTLE BO PEEP in his hands.
The sky is a beautiful BLUE.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The sun, blazing, warm.
Pedestrians, stunned, shading their eyes, unsure if
they’re dreaming.
A LOUD POP.
Across the street, in another store window, bright TOYS
appear one after another.
A wooden train.
A rainbow ball.
A plush dragon.
POP. POP. POP.
Next door, a clothing boutique: dresses bloom with color,
reds, blues, yellows as if the mannequins are remembering
how to be alive.
Through a gallery window across the street, paintings
appear -- Monet’s water lilies, Starry Night, one
masterpiece after another returning to the world.
Cars stop in the street.
Drivers step out, staring, bewildered.
A mural paints itself on the brick wall across the park.
A busker appears on the street corner, playing loud and
proud.
Just past the Romeo and Juliet stage, a full circus CRASH-
LANDS -- a big‑top tent unfurling, rides whirling to life,
clowns tumbling out, balloons popping into the sky.
And across the intersection —
A MOVIE THEATER MARQUEE flickers to life, bulbs chasing
in bright gold loops.
Letters slide into place: GONE WITH THE WIND
People gasp.
Laugh.
Cry.
The world, gray, silent, obedient for so long is suddenly
alive again.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: (2)
Alive with art.
Alive with color.
Alive with story.
DISSOLVE TO:
Genres:
["Fantasy","Drama","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
58 -
Saint George Time
EXT. SUBURBS – NIGHT
A quiet neighborhood..but no longer gray.
Houses now stand in every shape and color: green lawns,
flowers blaze along walkways.
Porch lights glow soft and warm.
We hover above one house: cozy, alive, full of color.
SAM JR (V.O.)
Hey, Dylan!
A beat -- you can hear the grin in his voice.
SAM JR (V.O.)
Guess what time it is?
INT. DYLAN’S ROOM – NIGHT
Color everywhere. A 9-year-old boy in bright PJs (DYLAN)
bounces on the bed, eyes shining.
Posters, crayons, taped drawings, a cardboard dragon on a
shelf. The room hums with life.
DYLAN
It’s Saint George time!
SAM JR, older now, steady, warm, stands by the bed
holding a children’s book: PAPER MÂCHÉ TOWN: VOLUME 39.
SAM JR
By Saint George’s honor… shall we
begin?
DYLAN
Yes! Yes!
Sam Jr sits at the edge of the bed, sets the book on his
knees, and looks at Dylan with a knight’s solemnity and a
father’s joy.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
SAM JR
By vow once sworn… let the
adventure begin.
He opens the book.
Dylan leans in, wide-eyed.
Sam Jr starts to read.
THE END
...and for those of us that stay until the last credit
rolls away and the screen goes--
BLACK
A soft WHIRR drifts in from overhead, like machinery
lowering toward us from the very top of the screen.
Then -- the ARCHIVIST’S RETRIEVAL ARM sinks into frame
and we’re back in the --
ARTAVERSE -- now empty, dark and artless.
The claw keeps lowering… down… down…until it’s above --
A MASSIVE BLACK VAT.
Made of our old friends - THE SMUDGEKINS.
The CLAW sinks into it with a dull, wet THOOMP.
It rummages blindly.
Scoops.
Closes.
The claw RISES out of the sludge -- empty.
Genres:
["Fantasy","Family","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
59 -
The Claw Game Showdown
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The Archivist stands at the view window hunched over a
control console -- an old-school two-stick interface and
a cluster of chunky buttons.
A disappointed exhale.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
ARCHIVIST
Too shallow.
She nudges the left joystick gently. The claw on the
monitor drifts a hair to the left.
She taps the right joystick twice -- micro-adjusting its
angle, just like a real arcade crane.
She presses and holds the DEPLOY trigger.
ARCHIVIST
Let’s try that again.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The claw descends again, but this time with purpose,
guided by the Archivist’s tiny joystick flicks.
It moves forward a little.
Stops.
Down, slow, steady.
The claw plunges into the shifting black vat, far deeper
than before.
Then -- the claw rises out of the heaving black goo,
suspended in its grip is PRESIDENT SAM -- still in full
ARTINATOR armor, visor down, black residue dripping off
him.
He swings helplessly, furious.
PRESIDENT SAM
(muffled behind
visor)
Put me down! No, no DON’T put me
down!
He whips his visor up.
PRESIDENT SAM
The Curator CHEATED! He shoved me
into the claw! You saw that,
right? You ALL saw that!
He wiggles, trying to free an arm, only succeeding in
spinning himself.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
PRESIDENT SAM
This is outrageous! I am the
PRESIDENT! Get me OUT of this
ridiculous contraption!
A NEW SOUND rises beneath him -- a fast WHOOSHING,
bubbling UPWARD.
WHAM—
The Curator shoots up and out of the black vat, spiraling
upward like it’s being launched by pure joy. Its lenses
are wide, glowing with manic delight.
CURATOR
I WON! I WON! I WON THE CLAW
GAME!!!
It pumps its articulated arms like a champion, absolutely
over the moon.
Below, the giant Smudgekin vat QUIVERS… …and then
dissolves outward, little black shapes separating,
swirling, rising like confetti.
SMUDGEKINS
THE CLAW! THE CLAW!
INT. ARCHIVIST’S SHIP — CONTINUOUS
The Archivist shakes her head.
ARCHIVIST
I should never have taught them to
speak.
Genres:
["Science Fiction","Fantasy","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
60 -
The Claw's Christmas Capture
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The claw keeps rising, hauling President Sam upward
through the dark void, goo dripping off him in long
strings.
The Smudgekins swirl around him in a messy, ecstatic
cyclone.
SMUDGEKINS
THE CLAW! THE CLAW!
PRESIDENT SAM
STOP CHANTING! I WILL NOT
PARTICIPATE IN THIS FARCE!
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
The claw rises higher until in view is the --
SMUDGEKINS’ OLD CHRISTMAS HOUSE
Suspended in the void.
PRESIDENT SAM
Please! Please! Archivist, don’t
do this! I’ll impeach myself! You
can be President! We can have an
inauguration! The whole nine
yards!
CURATOR
Yes! Yes! I’ll arrange the
entertainment!
PRESIDENT SAM
It has a nice ring to -- President
Archivist.
ARCHIVIST (O.S.)
My name is now....Maureen.
PRESIDENT SAM
Even better - President Maureen!
Our first female president!
INT. ARCHIVIST SHIP – CONTINUOUS
The Archivist eases the joystick forward, nudging the
claw toward the house with steady, unblinking precision.
A small, satisfied smile curls at the corner of her
mouth.
ARCHIVIST
Merry Christmas, Mr. Ex-President.
EXT. ARTAVERSE – CONTINUOUS
The claw glides President Sam smoothly toward the house.
PRESIDENT SAM
NO! NO! NOT THE HOUSE! NOT THE
HOUSE!
It lowers… aligns perfectly with the front window.
Without force, without impact, President Sam simply
transfers into the drawing.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
One moment in the claw…the next, inside the front room.
INT. SMUDGEKIN’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS
President Sam stumbles to the front window, slapping the
glass, desperate.
PRESIDENT SAM
Let me out! DO YOU HEAR ME? LET ME
OUT!
Behind him, the Christmas tree and presents burn in
exaggerated, cartoonish fury, flames licking upward like
hand-drawn monsters.
EXT. SMUDGEKIN’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS
Outside the Smudgekins gather, millions, forming a wobbly
choir.
The Curator floats in beside them, arms raised like a
proud conductor.
The Smudgekins inhale and burst joyfully into an off-key,
chaotic carol:
SMUDGEKINS/CURATOR
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
Inside, President Sam bangs on the window.
PRESIDENT SAM
STOP SINGING! SOMEBODY STOP THEM!
SMUDGEKINS/CURATOR
And a Happy THOUSAND YEAAAAARS!
SMASH CUT TO BLACK.