The Fixed

Logline: In a totalitarian near-future, a brainwashed former peace activist must regain his memories and identity in order to discover who is manipulating him.

Research & Development

After you research a new project, how do you develop as a person? After all, what is the point of research if not to enrich yourself?

FADE IN:
EXT. WASTELANDS - DAY
The ground is smooth and shiny as glass. To the horizon.
AVERY (40s), a timeless gaze of weariness on his soft regal face, sits astride a small GRYPHON with folded wings, lion’s body, eagle’s head.
Gryphon’s collar displays four numbers: “4915”.
GRYPHON
Avery, let’s go home.
AVERY
You are all so eager to have me lose the grant monies. I will win.
Avery rearranges the numbers on Gryphon’s collar. Avery and Gryphon vanish.
The howling wind is alone once more.
EXT. OUTDOOR MARKET - DAY
Gryphon’s collar: “1594”.
High-collared YOUNG MEN and long-skirted YOUNG WOMEN walk arm in arm.
Avery’s face falls.
GRYPHON
All taken. Homeward now?
AVERY
No. No. And look a fool disproved? Lazy fool, I swear I’ll undo you.
GRYPHON
Even if you are to find one...
Avery growls.
EXT. DENSE JUNGLE - DAY
Gryphon walks slowly, Avery on his back. Gryphon’s collar reads: “1495”.
They reach a cliff, look down...
CONQUISTADORS swarm off a ship onto a shore.
GRYPHON
Self-importance, tsk, tsk. ‘Twas your own undoing to wax philosophical at the Grand Council.
AVERY
Curse your tongue!
Avery rearranges the collar numbers.
EXT. AMERICAN SUBURB - DAY
Gryphon’s collar: “1945”. Gryphon perches on a brick wall between houses.
A small group of GIRLS (20) chat over a picket fence.
Avery fixes his gaze on one girl, GAIL. Her slender figure, light breezy skirt, air of genteel daintiness.
Gail looks up, notices Avery in the distance.
She smiles.
Avery’s eyes light up.
Avery bends to Gryphon’s ear.
AVERY
Aha! I win, Gryphon. Be undone.
Gryphon dies, turns to stone.
Avery hops down from the wall. Approaches Gail.
EXT. CITY - DAY (1945)
Gail and Avery stroll, window-shopping.
Hand in hand.
EXT. DRIVE-IN THEATER - DAY
In a huge convertible. Gail and Avery kiss. Long and low.
INT. GAIL’S HOUSE - DAY
Avery perches on the edge of the couch, uncomfortable.
Standing over him, Gail and her PARENTS argue. Point at him.
EXT. DRIVE-IN THEATER - NIGHT
Gail weeps. Avery holds her close.
EXT. GAIL’S HOUSE - NIGHT
Gail, crying, rushes inside.
The door slams in Avery’s face.
Avery turns, slow, walks to the gate.
Avery stops...
He sprints to the door, throws it open, dashes inside.
Comes back out, holds Gail lying across his arms, she’s still crying. But with joy.
Avery runs down the street, twirls with Gail.
Gail’s Parents, bewildered, stand in the door.
INT. TINY CHAPEL - DAY
Avery and Gail, married. Two bored witnesses in a far pew.
INT. TINY APARTMENT - DAY (1955)
Baby cribs in a corner.
Avery (still 40), dressed like a businessman. Gail (now 30), dressed like a waitress. Give each other a huge, sweep-off-your-feet kiss.
They go out the door, ready for the day.
INT. TINY APARTMENT - NIGHT
Avery and Gail enter, the end of an exhausting day.
A peck of a kiss.
EXT. LARGE HOUSE - DAY (1965)
Avery (still 40), holds his hands over Gail’s eyes (now 40).
He releases his hands, lets her see the house.
She screams for joy, hugs him.
INT. CHURCH - DAY (1975)
A wedding.
Avery (still 40) and Gail (now 50), dressed in finery, in the front row. Both faces bathed with happy tears.
INT. AVERY’S HOUSE - DAY (1985)
Avery (still 40) and Gail (now 60) read, comfortable, in matching chairs near a fireplace.
They look up from their books, share a smile.
Avery picks up Gail in his arms.
EXT. AVERY’S HOUSE - DAY
Avery, carrying Gail, runs down the street, twirls.
Their laughter echoes off the houses.
INT. AVERY’S HOUSE - DAY (1995)
Christmas time.
Avery (still 40) and Gail (now 70), surrounded by CHILDREN and GRANDCHILDREN and GREATGRANDCHILDREN, hand out presents.
INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY (2010)
Gail (now 85) lies in bed, helpless, attached to tubes.
Avery (still 40) at her side... A DOCTOR pats his shoulder.
INT. AVERY’S HOUSE - DAY
Avery sits on the bed, holds Gail lying across his arms.
Kisses her.
AVERY
No. No. You are so young yet.
GAIL
Wherever you come from, wherever you go, will you remember me?
AVERY
How could I forget you wondrous?
INT. AVERY’S HOUSE - DAY
Gail, white, lies unmoving in his arms.
Avery, tears down his cheeks, twirls once with her, tender, slow. Lays her still body on the bed.
EXT. AMERICAN SUBURB - DAY
Gryphon, of stone, still on the eroding brick wall. Just another tacky bird-pooped gargoyle.
Avery, gentle, remembrance, touches the numbered collar.
The stone cracks, crumbles. A new-colored FEMALE GRYPHON emerges, alive.
FEMALE GRYPHON
Ah, you must be Avery. And you failed as the Grand Council predicted?
AVERY
No. No. I was right. It is human to be destined for life and beyond.
FEMALE GRYPHON
Are you off home to publish your findings, then?
AVERY
No. No. I am weak without her now. I am so weak. I am undone...
She wins.
Avery fiddles with Female Gryphon’s collar, now it reads: “1945”. Avery climbs onto her back.
EXT. AMERICAN SUBURB - DAY (1945)
Gail (20), looks up, notices Avery.
She smiles.
FADE OUT.

Nocturne

I wrote this script in an effort to give a different kind of face to the generic alien abduction/invasion story. It was, in large part, inspired by the song "Lion Tamer" from the musical "The Magic Show" by Stephen Schwartz.

NOCTURNE
by Kyle Patrick Johnson
Represented by:
Canton Literary Management (CLM)
Contact: Eric Canton
(866) 429-3118
ECanton@Prodigy.net
www.CantonLiteraryManagement.com
SOUND FADES IN:
A carousel and crowds. Children laugh.
WOMAN’S VOICE (V.O.)
You’ve never cared about me or
anybody else. It’s just you and
those damned ca--
Loud explosion.
Running. Agonized breaths.
LEO (V.O.)
Nocturne. Nocturne!
SOUND FADES OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. BUBBLE ROOM - NIGHT
At the bottom of the dark sphere sprawls LEO (50s), in a
shredded black tuxedo and top hat. Unconscious.
The walls glow red from nearby explosions.
INT. BUBBLE ROOM - DAY
The curved walls are milky white, semi-transparent. Outside
part of the room, water laps against the bubble’s equator.
Constant rumbling explosions shake the room.
Leo, terror-eyes, scrambles up the walls, slides back down.
He punches the wall, but it bows out around his hand like
spandex, snaps back into place, jams his wrist.
He winces in pain, shakes it off.
He slumps to the floor.
Leo looks inside the hat. A photo of a woman taped inside the
flat top. She has a beard.
His shoulders shake, he weeps inside.
He subsides, lays down hammock-like on the convex floor.
He blinks his eyes dry, whistles a broken classical tune.
An intense, low, menacing growl echoes throughout the room.
Leo freezes. His eyes dart to all sides.
He whistles the tune again.
Another growl.
Leo climbs to his feet, wary. He holds the hat in one hand
like a shield, the other fist pulled back. He revolves, ready
for anything, from anywhere.
But nothing happens. He’s alone.
Constant explosions.
A splash outside.
Leo dashes to the opaque wall, peers through it.
A body of a woman surfaces, face up. She has a beard.
Leo clutches his mouth, falls on all fours, vomits.
He rips at the wall like an animal, blurry pumping arms. The
wall tears into thin strips that heal instantly, too fast for
him to put his arm through.
A back-and-forth mosaic, the woman’s body vivid then cloudy.
Leo screams, an anguished primal yowl.
A long blue finger touches his back.
Leo whips around, ready for a fight, but not ready for...
An alien queen, KEHNIKKQ, tall, slender, blue-skinned, two
large blue eyes, two green eyes where her ears should be. A
regal red robe with a myriad of sequins flows to her feet.
Kehnikkq floats in the middle of the bubble, flanked by two
smaller blue ALIENS.
Kehnikkq points a long arm at Leo, touches his cheek.
Leo swats her hand away, snatches up his hat-shield.
Kehnikkq draws back, no expression. She brings her long
finger to her side, presses a sequin on her left hip.
A hiss of gas. Leo grabs at his throat, unable to breathe. He
drops to his knees, turns as blue as Kehnikkq herself.
Kehnikkq and Aliens float placidly above his struggling form.
2.
EXT. BUBBLE ROOM - DAY
A rush of gas out through the walls, a fine mist scatters in
all directions.
The room is just one of a massive honeycomb of bubble rooms.
The giant white vessel floats in New York Harbor.
The Statue of Liberty cut off at the knees.
Distant gray explosions rock the horizon, rubble of New York.
INT. BUBBLE ROOM - DAY
Leo’s eyeballs bulge out of his head, about to burst.
Kehnikkq takes her finger off the sequin. Gas rushes in.
Leo gasps, intakes a huge amount of air. He gulps the oxygen
with alien-forgetting delight, intent on the pleasure.
Kehnikkq touches a sequin on her right shoulder.
Leo rises off the floor like a marionette, propelled to face
her.
Kehnikkq touches more sequins, forces Leo to gaze into her
mesmerizing blue eyes.
LEO
Fuck you.
Leo tries to look away. He can’t.
Kehnikkq touches a large sequin over her abdomen.
Leo’s body, racked in agony. Red and white blood cells burst
out of his skin, suspended in mid-air.
Aliens lean towards the cells, study, examine.
Faraway explosion-clouds seen through the translucent walls.
Kehnikkq touches a sequin on her right arm.
Leo drops to the ground, falls hard. He can barely move, the
pain overwhelms him.
He struggles to contort his bruised face. His cheeks puff
out, every movement a study in torment.
He whistles the classical tune.
3.
A low growl echoes in the room.
Kehnikkq and Aliens don’t seem to notice.
Leo whistles once more, exhausted by the effort.
A loud growl, an enraged snarl.
An internal white wall indents, as though a large object was
hurled at it from beyond. The wall snaps back into place.
The growl takes on a life of its own.
Leo closes his eyes.
A huge slash appears in the wall behind Kehnikkq. And heals.
Kehnikkq and Aliens are absorbed by the red blood cells,
cannot hear, do not notice the theatrics behind them.
A sharp, curved claw pierces the wall. Another next to it.
The two claws draw apart as a large black head thrusts
through the wall between them, forces the hole wider.
A huge pure black jaguar with glowing yellow eyes.
The jaguar shoves its lithe bulk through the tight hole,
little by little.
Kehnikkq presses a sequin. The red blood falls to the ground,
spatters on Leo and the white floor.
She begins to turn around.
The jaguar is almost through, just hind legs to go.
Leo, in an agonizing motion, racked with pain, waves his arm.
Distracted, Kehnikkq turns back to Leo.
LEO
Can’t you hear this?
Leo whistles a new tune, more modern, harsh.
Kehnikkq makes no sign of recognition.
LEO
For Arturo the Knifeman... Fuzzer
the Clown... Bearded Lady...
Leo whistles, harsh, gives it everything he’s got. He points
at Kehnikkq.
4.
The jaguar gets all the way through, slides down the wall,
scrabbles for a foothold.
The jaguar pushes off the curved surface, launches towards
Kehnikkq from behind and the right, sharp white teeth gleam.
An inhuman scream from the cat’s throat.
Kehnikkq sees it coming with her side green eye, the lunging
predator reflected in her shiny cornea.
But the jaguar reaches her before she can push a sequin...
And tears out her alien throat.
Kehnikkq falls, dead, onto her left side.
The Aliens collapse with her, bound to her life force.
Kehnikkq’s lifeless finger, trapped under her body weight,
presses against the sequin on her left hip.
The gas escapes from the bubble room.
The jaguar, muzzle painted with blue blood, gags in the
vacuum.
Leo gasps, turns blue.
The jaguar creeps to Leo’s side, inch by painful inch.
LEO
Good... girl... Nocturne.
The jaguar lays a massive black paw on Leo’s cheek.
They die.
The explosions cease.
FADE OUT

Lightener

In response to a filmmaker's call for a horror short script featuring a monster, I sat down and wrote this little ditty. I thought five pages was just too short to set up adequate psychological suspense required for a classic type of horror monster, so I went with something somewhat grittier. Enjoy!

LIGHTENER by Kyle Patrick Johnson Represented by: Canton Literary Management (CLM) Contact: Eric Canton (866) 429-3118 ECanton@Prodigy.net www.CantonLiteraryManagement.com FADE IN: EXT. WOODS - DAY One hairy leg, standing. Scratches against a tree. A rumble. A hairy arm rubs a hairy belly. EXT. WOODS - NIGHT One hairy leg, lying down. Far off, searchlights in the woods, sounds of SEARCHERS. EXT. WOODS - DAY One hairy leg, raises off the ground. Drops back to the ground. Raises off the ground, drops back down, rhythmic. EXT. WOODS - NIGHT One hairy leg, digs deep into soft loam, excavates a foxhole. Searchlights getting closer. EXT. WOODS - DAY One hairy leg, one foot in a high-strapped leather boot. Hops between the trees. EXT. CHAIN LINK FENCE - DAY A space of perhaps ten inches gapped between high fence and gate, padlocked shut. Barbed wire at the top. One hairy leg hops to the gap, crashes into the gap. Tries to squeeze through. No such luck. EXT. WOODS - DAY One hairy leg, raises and drops, up and down, faster rhythm than before. EXT. WOODS - NIGHT One hairy leg, lying down. An insistent belly rumble. 2. A groan of hunger. The searchlights are almost overhead. Pounding throb of helicopters brush the treetops. Voices filter through the trees, dogs, soldiers. The leg scrambles along the ground, slips into the foxhole. Grated breathing. Dirt falls over the foxhole, covers the leg, buries it. Flashlights play over the foxhole, around the woods. Dogs sniff the area, bay insistently. Several laser pointers zoom in on the foxhole. Guns click. A stomach rumble. A groan: despair. The foxhole explodes: the leg bursts out of it, vanishes OFF CAMERA. Sounds of ripping, guns firing in every direction, dogs squealing and going silent. Bullets tear into the ground. CAMERA FALLS OVER on its side, lens smashes. FADE TO BLACK. EXT. WOODS - DAY A bloody dog carcass, stripped of meat. One hairy leg, knee bent, as if a person sits on the ground. One hairy arm rubs a stomach. No longer growling. A moan, an anguished sigh. One hairy hand smashes into the ground. Sounds of sobbing and weeping. The sobs die off. A nose is wiped. An intake of breath, a decision. The leg stands up, rises off the ground, up and down, faster, faster, faster, faster, never stopping. Faster, faster, faster, pump, pump. PULL BACK SLOW TO FLASH REVEAL our MONSTER: it’s a man, dressed in a soldier’s shirt and boot. But he’s extremely hairy, and his one leg comes from his trunk dead center, as though he’d never had two legs, a monopod. 3. Monster does pull-ups on a tree branch, his back to CAMERA. EXT. CHAIN LINK FENCE - DAY Monster smashes into the gap. Tries to squeeze through. Not slim enough. He measures his waist, a few more pounds to lose. Monster punches the fence. Tries to untwist the chain-link, but it is remarkably strong, resists him. EXT. WOODS - NIGHT Monster’s stomach rumbles. He’s digging more foxholes with his foot. Monster dumps bodies of MEN and DOGS, their throats torn out, into the foxholes. Covers them with dirt. His stomach rumbles again. Monster looks hungrily at a Man’s carcass, licks his lips. He holds his stomach, quickly covers the carcass. Jumps to a branch, more pull-ups. Searchlights through the trees. Monster pulls up, faster, faster, faster, faster. Monster hops off through the trees. Two SOLDIERS burst into a small clearing just as Monster disappears. They give hand signals to each other, race off through the woods after Monster. Monster hops, deceptive speed, a zigzag pattern. The two Soldiers tail him, eyes on him, rifles to their eyes, wait for a shot. Laser pointers play through the dark woods, sweep over Monster’s back. A searchlight beams down through the trees, helicopter sounds. Monster jumps into a small ravine. Soldiers jump into the ravine. 4. Monster waits for them. Tears out their throats with his mouth as he holds them in the air. We see how massive his arms really are. This Monster is a super-killer. He hops off, climbs a tree with his strong arms, catapults up the tree like a long-limbed monkey. CAMERA remains on the ground, watches him go. Growls, screeches of metal, the searchlight goes cockeyed. Sounds of the helicopter going down. An explosion shines through the trees. A metal rotor whizzes by CAMERA. One hairy leg smashes into the ground, right next to CAMERA, Monster has jumped down. His stomach rumbles. Monster hops off through the trees. A SQUAD of ten soldiers creep through the trees behind him. Follow him. EXT. CHAIN LINK FENCE - NIGHT Monster hops up to the gate, a hopping start, turns sideways, tries to slip through the gap. Almost! His hips get stuck, somehow he slides his head and one thick arm through. He scrapes his arms, trunks, leg, terrible bleeding. He yanks, tugs, pushes himself through, regardless the cost. He’s a mess. Almost, almost, almost there, just have to get those hips... The Squad emerges from a treeline behind him. Their laser pointers zoom in on his foot. Monster wiggles his foot, tries to shake off the lasers. The Squad opens fire, aim for that foot. Bullets zing into the ground by the hundreds. Monster screams, an unintelligible, raucous shriek, no words. He wiggles his foot desperately, somehow unhit. 5. Squad inches closer, second by second, unceasing hail of fire. Now the foot is hit, pummeled by bullets. It appears indestructible, no blood. Monster’s face is contorted in massive pain. He pushes against the fence, sucks in his abdomen. One final push. As Monster leaps through, his foot gets stuck in the gap. Explosion. His foot explodes. Looks like a napalm fireburst. The Squad is thrown backwards, killed. Monster, footless, bleeds from his leg stump, weeps on the ground on the other side of the fence. Two signs on the chain-link fence are illuminated: “Military Training Facility - Keep Out” and “Your Genetic Future”. Monster drags himself across the ground, away from the fence. His stomach rumbles. FADE OUT.