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WANCHORS Episode Three by Tom Gran and Martin Woolley

FADE IN: INT. MINE, LIVING ROOM - MORNING Harsh morning light beams through the portholes of the mine. The interior is in an even worse state than usual -furniture overturned, broken glass and bits of litter strewn about the place. A strange, muffled wailing echoes through the mine. PRESTON slumps on a table with his face in a puddle of vomit. Through a window behind him we see the rest of the minefield that the three call their home. BOOM! One of them suddenly explodes. PRESTON awakes with a jolt. He looks around, bleary-eyed and peels a starfish from the side of his face. WOAAAHHHOOOOAAHHHH -- the wailing continues. PRESTON gets up, looking around for the source of the noise. He crosses the room to a sofa tipped on its back. PRESTON Yo, Shrimp, get up. He flips the sofa back onto its base -- an unconscious and trouser-less SHRIMP rolls off it and hits his head against the coffee table. SHRIMP Aagh! Shit! What? SHRIMP sits up, his face is covered in writing and crudely doodled genitalia. PRESTON stifles a laugh. What? SHRIMP (CONTD)

PRESTON Nothing. You hear that noise? The two of them listen for a moment. PRESTON (CONTD) Wheres Chad? SHRIMP gets up and approaches a trash can in the corner of the room -- CHADs legs, minus one flipper, are sticking out of it. SHRIMP overturns the can with a well-placed kick and CHAD slides out onto the floor, along with a heap of empty beer cans. The wailing gets louder. CHAD Dude, Im tryin to sleep.

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CHAD sits up -- his head has been magically transformed into a flaming skull, the ghostly wailing echoing from within its bony depths. PRESTON stifles another laugh. CHAD (CONTD) Agh, my head! Last night was righteous, you guys. I pounded like a thousand beers. Not even light beers. CHAD goes to run his hand through his hair -- his flesh sizzles. He brings his hand in front of his face. Its been horrifically burnt. What theCHAD (CONTD)

PRESTON Aahhhhh, burn! SHRIMP Bro, youre cursed! He grabs a shard of broken mirror and holds it in front of CHADs face. SHRIMP (CONTD) Rookie mistake, flame-ass! CHAD gapes at his bony visage. CHAD Aahh, dude, no way. PRESTON holds a hotdog on a stick over CHADs flaming head. SHRIMP guffaws and snaps a picture on a Polaroid camera. PRESTON Did you get the wiener in shot? CHAD slaps the dog to the floor. CHAD Whatever, butt-pipes, this head is totally metal. Im like a walking tattoo. Chicksll be all over me like rash on Prestons balls. PRESTON Dude, I showed you that in confidence. CHAD gets up.

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CHAD Im not even hung over, you guys. Lets keep this party pumpin! He grabs a beer from a treasure chest on the floor and cracks it open. He goes to take a swig and gets a face full of ash. What theCHAD (CONTD)

He shakes soot from his empty eye sockets and upends the beer -- more ash pours from within. CHAD (CONTD) You dick-twists been messin with my beers?! Dude, wheres the beef?! SHRIMP I told you, brah, youre cursed! CHAD tosses the beer bottle aside. CHAD Thats BS, aint nothin gonna stop the Chad from partying. He grabs a boombox from the floor and throws in a casette marked CHADS SLAMMIN-FRESH PARTY MIX IV. He hits play -Pop Goes The Weasel pipes out of the speakers at full volume. CHAD (CONTD) Dude, what?! Cursed. Cursed. SHRIMP PRESTON

CHAD Shut up! Im not cursed! SHRIMP grabs a bottle of tequila and tosses it CHAD. CHAD goes to catch it -- WHAM! A huge cactus plows into him. CHAD goes down. Cursed. SHRIMP

CHAD lies pinned to the floor. A hood ornament on a chain falls from under his vest. PRESTON admires it.

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PRESTON Dude, sweet. Did you pick that up last night? CHAD Yeah, some hobo outside the club with a flaming skull head was really keen to give me it. What an idiot, right? SHRIMP sighs and pushes the cactus off him. SHRIMP Come on, dumb-ass. He pulls CHAD to his feet. EXT. CLUB - LATER SHRIMP leads the way into Ultra-Marine, a club built into a sunken oil tanker. CHAD spots his lost flipper by the door and slots it onto his foot. INT. CLUB - CONTD Heavy trance music booms through the club. All-night party people convulse wildly on the dance floor as PRESTON and SHRIMP step into the room. CHAD enters. The music suddenly cuts out and the lights come on. The DJs voice comes in on the huge speakers. DJ Ok, boys and girls, and now your parents are here to pick you all up and take you home. Dont forget to recycle your plastic cups. The barkeep looks up from wiping a glass. BARKEEP Hey, Skeletor! Read the sign. He points to a sign by the door -- NO SMOKING, NO SNEAKERS, NO CURSES. CHAD This blows. Two bouncers remove him -- the party immediately starts up again. PRESTON and SHRIMP glance around the club.

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SHRIMP You think the hobos here? PRESTON I dont know. Lets ask that guy with Chads head. At the other end of the dance floor a stocky man with corpse-like flesh in a ragged pirate captain jacket whoops excitedly. CHADs healthy-looking head sits on his rotting neck, grinning broadly as scantily clad shot girls pour rum down his undead throat. SHRIMP and PRESTON approach. SHRIMP Yo, Captain Crunch, whats your deal? Thats my bros head youre wearin. The pirate looks round. ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD Eat a dick, kid. That bilgesucker took me cursed necklace fair and square. PRESTON You eat a dick. ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD I already did. I took pictures. He produces a handful of photos and tosses them to SHRIMP. SHRIMP and PRESTON stare wide-eyed. SHRIMP No way. Chads gonna flip when he sees these. PRESTON bursts out laughing. SHRIMP pockets the pictures. ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD Ye lads seem all right. Lemme buy yous a round. INT. CLUB - LATER PRESTON, SHRIMP and the ZOMBIE PIRATE sit in a private booth, surrounded by cocktail glasses. They clink girlylooking drinks and throw them back. ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD wipes his/CHADs mouth.

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ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD Aye lads, Im sorry I took yer pals head. Jus I been livin with that curse for a thousand years -- thats a long time to go without a drink! A woman! A dick! Oh how Ive missed me dicks. PRESTON Nah, man, its totally cool. You rock! Word up! SHRIMP

The CAPTAIN throws up a rotting hand. ZOMBIE PIRATE CHAD Oi, wench! Another batch o pina coladas for me and me new first mates! Choice! PRESTON

The three of them high-five. EXT. CLUB - LATER STILL CHAD sits sullenly on a bench outside the club. A dishevelled girl in a miniskirt and stilettos staggers out. GIRL Ah, man, Im so wasted. I could totally bang like any dude right now. CHAD looks at her -- she immediately sobers up. GIRL (CONTD) On second thoughts, I should probably go home and take care of my elderly mother. She puts on an ugly knitted sweater and strolls off. CHAD sighs. BLAM! The door to the club slams open -- PRESTON and SHRIMP tumble out, laughing. CHADs head is now on SHRIMPs body and PRESTON holds a plastic bag containing SHRIMPs head floating in water. CHAD gets up. SHRIMP Man, Chad, where were you?

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PRESTON Yeah bro! You missed one bangin partaaaaaaaaay- Bleeeauuughh! He vomits all over CHADs feet. CHAD You d-bags! You were supposed to catch that magic hobo! Ive been out here all night! PRESTON drunkenly turns to SHRIMP. PRESTON Shut up, Chad. He punches SHRIMP in CHADs face and topples over. My face! CHAD

SHRIMP readjusts CHADs head, laughing. SHRIMP Man, you think that sucks. Ive got some pictures you need to see. He pulls the snapshots out of his pocket. CHAD looks. CHAD Dude. Weak. PRESTON sits up and pukes into the bag containing SHRIMPs head.

FADE OUT.

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