slashsmut jubilee girl serial beecher keller

It's the Quiet Ones You've Gotta Watch Out For

Part Four

by Jubilee Girl

Cut to: Int.  Gates into EmCity
The sound of bars slamming shut can be heard.

VERN SCHILLINGER wheels the mail cart into EmCity.  He hands the cart over to 
another INMATE from unit "B" and stands next to METZGER, who's positioned at 
the gate.

SCHILLINGER (whispering)
So, uh... where are the new arrivals?
I heard we were getting a shipment of 
fresh meat in this week.

METZGER (chuckles)
Yeah, we did.   

METZGER tilts his clipboard so SCHILLINGER can have a peek at the new 
arrivals list.

SCHILLINGER (peeking over Metzger's shoulder)
Hmm... let's see what's on the menu for today.
What about ... Blare, Aaron M.?

Smash cut to: The Showers  {In slow-motion}
BLARE steps under the steaming hot spray of water, bending his head forward 
under the water to wet his hair.  We see a tiny gold crucifix on a fine 
golden chain dangling around BLARE's throat.  He slicks his hair back off of 
his face and rubs his face with his hands.  He leans forward, closes his eyes 
and rests his forehead against the tiled wall.

Oh, good choice.  


SCHILLINGER (grinning)
And where would Aaron be right now?

Last I saw, he was headed for the showers.

Thanks, buddy.

METZGER (chuckles, pats Schillinger on the back:)
Any time, brother.

SCHILLINGER strolls away in the direction of the showers.

Cut to: The Showers
BLARE rubs the back of his neck with his hand, his head still under the 
shower spray.  We see SCHILLINGER walk in quietly, almost tiptoeing, so BLARE 
doesn't hear him come in.  SCHILLINGER walks up to the partition that 
separates the sinks and urinals from the shower stall area.  BLARE's glasses 
lay folded neatly on top of the partition, next to his towel.  SCHILLINGER 
picks up his glasses and examines them, then leans on the partition and 
watches as BLARE showers, eyeing him up and down, a vulpine grin on his face. 

BLARE is graced with a slender, carefully muscled body - skin milky and soft 
like a newborn baby's - broad shoulders and ribcage, a very narrow waist, 
perfectly rounded buttocks and firm, muscular legs.  His figure is almost 
that of a typical feminine 'hourglass' shape.   His height is just below 
average for a man - but he still looks very powerful.  His cheekbones and 
brow are very pronounced - especially with his hair slicked back the way it 
is.  He has full, rosy red lips and a thin, aristocratic nose.   

BLARE's almond-shaped blue-green eyes are edged with fine, curly, long black 
lashes.  You don't see his muscles until he moves... but when you finally do 
see them, they stand at full attention - smooth bands of muscle working 
together under his pale skin.  He has the grace of a feline: smooth, 
contained agility.

BLARE runs his hands through his dripping wet hair, still unaware of 
SCHILLINGER's presence.

SCHILLINGER (in his friendliest voice:)
Hey, there...!

BLARE whips around and sees SCHILLINGER - he's still manhandling his glasses. 
 As BLARE looks at him, SCHILLINGER looks up and smiles, putting his glasses 
back where they were originally.

BLARE (spitting out water)
Hello.  Who-who are you?

My name's Vern.  Vern Schillinger.
So, I hear your new to Oz, huh?

Yeah... uh, just got in a couple of days ago.

SCHILLINGER (still looking him up and down)
Good, good.  So, where you from?

Los Angeles...

No, I mean originally.   

BLARE (distractedly)
England.   Uhm, could you toss
me that towel please, umm...


BLARE (shutting off the shower)
Vern, right.


SCHILLINGER tosses BLARE his towel   BLARE catches the towel and begins 
drying his hair with it.

So, what's it like over there in
England?  You got a lot of niggers
and towel-heads over there, huh?

BLARE (stops, stares at Schillinger, shocked:)
I beg your pardon?!

You got a lot of foreigners there, in
England, don'tcha?

BLARE (shrugs, still looking put-off by the question:)
No more than here.

BLARE walks towards the partition, wrapping the towel around his waist - 
SCHILLINGER watching his every move.   

So, uh ... what did you want ... Vern?

Well, I just thought I'd stop by 
and see if you'd been given the
Royal Oz Welcome yet...

BLARE stands just a couple of feet away from SCHILLINGER, arms crossed over 
his shoulders, dripping water all over.
"Royal Oz Welcome," hmm?
And just what might that be?

BLARE leans forward just a bit - reaching forward to retrieve his glasses, 
his arm brushing against SCHILLINGER's shoulder - SCHILLINGER notices the 
cross around BLARE's throat; he carefully lifts it up and examines it with 

You're real pretty, aren't you?
Yeah, you're a real pretty boy... (long pause)
I haven't had a girlfriend for a long
time, now ... you wanna be my girlfriend, Aaron?

As he talks, SCHILLINGER runs a fingertip down BLARE's cheek, a lascivious 
look in his eye.  BLARE stands perfectly still.

We might be able to doll you up a bit...
get you some mascara, some lipstick...

Before SCHILLINGER has a chance to react, BLARE pulls back a step, brings 
back his fist and punches SCHILLINGER in a vulnerable spot just between his 
groin and his abdomen.  BLARE moves so quickly, you can't even see his fist 
as he swings.  SCHILLINGER gasps and doubles over, fighting for breath.   
BLARE slams SCHILLINGER back against the partition, standing him up straight. 
 BLARE grips SCHILLINGER's face in his hand and whispers to him in a 
chillingly calm voice as SCHILLINGER continues to struggle to get his breath 

Now, I don't know how you do things 
here in Oz, Mr. Schillinger, so I'll tell you
how *I* like things to be done.  I don't like to
be touched by men that I don't know.  I can
understand that you're lonely, but being raped
by a bigoted fucking redneck is not my idea
of a warm welcome.  So... I suggest that you keep
your hands and your cock to yourself, or I shall
be forced to cut them off of you.   And you'll be
the one that chooses which goes first.  Am I

SCHILLINGER nods woodenly.

That's good.  I'm glad that we understand each other.
Now, I'm going to let you go, now.  But I suggest to you, 
before you go running to your brethren for aid, that you 
consider this... I have black belts, both in Karate and Tae 
Kwan Do, and could kill you with one single blow to 
your throat that would crush your windpipe like an eggshell.   
I hate having to prove myself to you like this, but with
a coarse scoundrel like yourself, physical force seems 
to be the only way you'll get the point, so ... I hope you understand.

BLARE leans in and roughly kisses SCHILLINGER's cheek - then releases him.  
SCHILLINGER slides down the partition to the floor, landing in a breathless 
heap.  BLARE stands over SCHILLINGER, his face now revealing his disgust.

Hopefully, this little incident has enlightened
that barbarian brain of yours as far as the rewards 
that the use of basic manners can bring you.
I would have fucked you, if you'd only been kind
enough to ask me, first, Vernon...

BLARE turns to leave and half-bumps-into RYAN O'REILLY.  

Oh, excuse me.

BLARE brushes past O'REILLY and heads back to his pod.  O'REILLY looks at 
SCHILLINGER, piled up on the floor, and grins wickedly.   

It's tough in the singles scene, huh, Vern?

SCHILLINGER (slowly getting up from the floor:)
Fuck you...!

O'REILLY snickers to himself as he walks out of the shower room.   

O'REILLY (muttering - loud enough so Vern can hear:)
Nazi cunt-rag.

Cut to:  BLARE's Pod
BLARE is now clad in his boxers, his towel draped over his shoulders.  He 
scrubs at his hair occasionally with the tail of the towel as he picks up his 
shirt and unfolds it, getting ready to put it on.  O'REILLY knocks on his 
door, opens it and steps inside, without waiting to be given permission to 
come in.


BLARE (turning; vaguely:)

Hey, listen, I'm really sorry about 
giving you shit when you first got 
here.  I didn't realize you could
do that stuff...!

BLARE (arching an eyebrow)

Yeah!  That Karate stuff...!  And using it
on Vern Schillinger?  Well ... that
makes you a good guy in my book - automatic.

BLARE (brows furrowing)
How much of that did you see?

Enough to know that he's not 
gonna fuck with you again!

Well, like I told *him* - I only
use it when it's absolutely necessary.
Hurting people is not my strong suit.
I don't like doing it ...but sometimes
ignorant people like Vern Schillinger 
just force my hand.

Well, still - you kicked his ass and I
appreciate that.  He's had it coming
for a while... (holds out his hand)
Ryan O'Reilly.

Cut to: Int.  MED WARD - 1 WEEK LATER
BEECHER's left arm is laid out on a table - DR. NATHAN is just finishing up 
cutting the cast off of his arm, after already taking the other one off of 
his right arm.  BEECHER tugs his arm free of the cast and rubs it, trying to 
get the feeling back into it.

Ahh!  Thank god!
You don't know how good
it feels to have those damn things off!

I can imagine!  I bet you'll
feel even better once you
get those casts off your legs!

Oh yeah...  (smiles)
Well, at least I'll be able to feed myself, now!
I know it'll be a while before I walk, yet,
but at least now I won't feel quite so defenseless.

And as soon as we get those casts off your legs,
you can start your physical therapy... (smiles)

BEECHER (groans; sarcastic:)
Ugh...  goody.

I know, I know ... you hate the idea of it, but
it'll help you, believe me.  I want you to start
going to the weight room with Chris and doing a bit of
light weight lifting, to get your arms back in shape.
And note, Beecher, I said *light* weight lifting!

BEECHER (nodding)
Yeah, sure, Doc... I will.

I'll talk to Warden Glynn and see what else we 
can do for you about your rehab, too, okay?

Yeah, okay... thanks!

No problem!  (smiles)

Cut to: Int.  BEECHER and KELLER's pod
BEECHER rolls into the pod, as KELLER's laying on the bottom bunk, thumbing 
through a magazine.   

Hey, Chris...!

KELLER looks up at BEECHER and a smile lights up his face.   


BEECHER (holds up his arms)
Would you just look?
I've got arms again!

KELLER (grinning)
I see that!

BEECHER chuckles as he rolls into the pod.  KELLER glances past BEECHER, 
seeing if anyone's looking.   He carefully slides off of the bunk and kneels 
down on the floor on both knees, just as BEECHER makes his way into the pod.  
BEECHER rolls his chair at an angle, so KELLER is kneeling on the right side 
of his chair.  The two men sit there quietly for a moment.  KELLER checks the 
doorway again and then, seeing no one looking, he pulls himself up and wraps 
his arms around BEECHER tightly.  BEECHER holds KELLER back, just as tightly.

Oh...  I've been waiting for
so long to do this.

KELLER (smiling)
Yeah?  How's it feel?

Ohh...  it feels real good...

KELLER gives BEECHER one last squeeze before he pulls back - he gives BEECHER 
a warm kiss and smiles.  He sits back on his haunches and lets his fingertip 
trail over BEECHER's cheek.   BEECHER grabs the front of KELLER's shirt and 
pulls him close again.   

BEECHER (grinning wickedly)
You're not gonna get away that
easy!  I had my arms in those casts
for six weeks... now that they're gone,
I intend to make the most of it.

KELLER (arching an eyebrow)
Oh, really?
BEECHER (nods, still grinning)

BEECHER pulls KELLER to him and they kiss passionately.  This catches KELLER 
off-guard - (he was probably expecting BEECHER to throttle him!) - he loses 
his balance and almost falls over, but BEECHER grabs his shoulders and sits 
him up straight, their lips remaining locked together the entire time.

Cut to: Int.  CAFETERIA - 2 Days Later
BEECHER and HILL race around the perimeter of the empty cafeteria - HILL in 
the lead, while BEECHER struggles to catch up with him.  HILL, a seasoned pro 
at piloting his wheelchair, speeds around the tables with ease, hollering and 
whooping - while BEECHER clumsily bumps tables with his wheels.   

HILL (calling over his shoulder to Beecher, laughing)
C'mon, son!  Faster!  One more lap to go!

BEECHER (panting)
Oh, man!  Fuck!

HILL and BEECHER continue to race around the cafeteria.  CYRIL sits atop one 
of the tables towards the center of the cafeteria (out of the way of the 
race) and watches as the two men go round and round, smiling the entire time. 
 He yells happily after the two men, laughing and clapping his hands 

Come on, Toby!  Go faster!  Faster!

As HILL passes a certain chair, he stops pushing himself along and throws 
both of his fists victoriously up in the air.  


A few seconds after HILL comes to a stop, BEECHER rolls up alongside him.  


BEECHER stops pushing his chair and sits back in it, letting it roll along on 
it's own, panting.

HILL (clapping Beecher on the back)
Hey, don't worry, man!  You did good!
Better than your last time!

I still can't get used to having those damn
casts off my arms!

Ahh, don't worry, man - you will!
BEECHER and HILL roll along together easily, now - at an unhurried pace.  
They roll over to the stage, turn to face the tables in the cafeteria and 
stop.  BEECHER grabs a towel lying on the floor and wipes his forehead and 
face and HILL does the same.  BEECHER looks around as he tries to catch his 

It was really nice of Glynn to let us
come in here to do your therapy.

Really, it was Dr. Nathan that insisted 
on it.  She told him I'd needed the exercise 
to build my arms back up. 

Well, then, it was damn nice of the Doc
to ask him for ya.

BEECHER (nodding)
Yes!  Yes, it was...

Soon, CYRIL comes running up to BEECHER and HILL.  He hops up and takes a 
seat on the edge of the stage.   

Hey, Cyril!

CYRIL (patting Beecher on the back excitedly)
You did real good, Toby!

Nah...  you think?

Yeah!  I wish Ryan could have seen 
you going so fast, Toby!  What's it feel
like to go so fast, Toby?  I bet it's fun, huh?

BEECHER (after a moment, smiles)
Yeah... yeah, Cyril, it *is* pretty fun.
Hey, Cyril?


Why don't you go back to EmCity and
play with your ball, okay?  I've got to 
talk to Augustus for a few minutes.


CYRIL hops down off of the edge of the stage and starts for the door.

Hey, Cyril!

CYRIL (turns around)

Don't talk to anyone on your way there, okay?
Not a soul.  No-body!  You promise me?

Yeah, Toby, I promise!

Cross your heart and hope to die?

CYRIL (crossing his heart)
I promise!

BEECHER (laughs)
Okay, good boy!  Get goin'!

Hey, Cyril!  We'll play checkers soon as
I get back - okay, my man?

CYRIL (over his shoulder)
All *right*!  Thanks Augustus!  

CYRIL exits - a visible skip in his step.  HILL and BEECHER sit quietly for a 

Hey, Augustus?

Yeah, man?

Roll with me, would ya?  I need 
to ask you about something...

HILL (chuckling)

HILL and BEECHER slowly make their way past the stage and start cycling 
slowly around the cafeteria together, side by side.  BEECHER sits quietly, as 
if lost in thought - HILL watches him.

What's on your mind, man?

I was just wondering - have you
talked to that new guy, Aaron Blare, yet?

Nah... only at lunch... why?

Oh, nothing.  I was just wondering.

Is he as freaky as everybody says he is?

BEECHER (laughs)
No, he's not.  And that's what's bothering me.
He reminds me a lot of me when I first got here.

So, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

BEECHER (laughs)
It's good!  At least, I *think* it's good.
I mean, he seems nice enough, but I don't know...
there's just something about him.   

Yeah, well, you know what they 
say about those quiet types, Beech.

That's just it, man.  I wonder... do all
quiet guys like him and me go insane...?

If they're not insane already or get pushed
hard enough that they *do* go crazy?  Probably.
I don't know about you, man, but he gives me 
the fuckin' heebie-jeebies.

BEECHER (chuckles)
And why's that?

HILL (shrugs)
Just like you said - it's just something about him.

BEECHER nods as we watch the men's' silhouettes roll down the hallway 
together, side by side.   

Cut to: HILL

Cut to: Int.  Commons Area - 2 Days Later: MAIL DAY
SCHILLINGER and JOHNNY SHULTZ, a fellow Aryan and inmate from Unit "B", stand 
together with the mail cart as the INMATES of EmCity stand queued up, waiting 
to receive their mail (if any.)  BLARE, KELLER, HILL, REBADOW and BUSMALIS 
stand together in line.  REBADOW is next in line - SCHILLINGER hands him his 
pre-opened letter, he crosses the Commons Area and heads over to his usual 
table, where BEECHER is already waiting in his wheelchair, and has a seat.  
BUSMALIS, next in line, takes his letter and follows REBADOW.

BLARE is next in line - he steps up to the cart, his arms folded across his 

SCHILLINGER (holding out Blare's letter; smirking)
Hello, cupcake!

BLARE (smirking back - brusque and cool:)
Hey!  How're your vitals, Vern?
Didn't bruise you too badly, did I?
No?  Good!  

BLARE snatches his letter out of SCHILLINGER's grasp.

(cont'd - waving his letter at Schillinger)
Later, handsome.  (winks, grinning wickedly)

BLARE saunters off to join REBADOW and BUSMALIS.  SCHILLINGER stands and 
gapes as BLARE walks away - he's floored.  HILL grabs his letter from 
SCHILLINGER, drops it in his lap and quickly rolls after BLARE.

What the hell was that all about?

Oh, nothing.  Vern and I just had what I guess 
you could call a little quarrel in the showers.

Little quarrel?

BLARE (grinning)
Yeah.  He wanted to play 
and I wasn't in the mood.

HILL (chuckles)
Holy shit.  You're a trip, man.
You know who he is, right?


Vern Schillinger?  Former head of the
Aryan Brotherhood in EmCity?

Huh.  Figures.  Don't worry, Augustus,
apes like him don't scare me.

Yeah?  Well, maybe he should.

Oh yeah?  Why?  What can he do?

You didn't see what happened to the *last* 
couple of guys who got on Vern's bad side.

BLARE (amused, chuckling:)
Like who?

HILL stops and grabs BLARE's sleeve, forcing him to stand still next to HILL 
- BLARE looks confused, but stays where he's standing.  HILL nods his head in 
BEECHER's direction.  BLARE turns and looks at in the direction of HILL's nod 
- BEECHER is slouched in his wheelchair lethargically.

BLARE (smile fading instantly:)


You mean he - you mean Schillinger - *he* did that?!
(HILL nods)  But... *how*?

HILL (whispering)
Don't tell him I told you.  Nobody's supposed to 
know, but everybody knew who it was - they didn't even
need to tell us.  Toby never even told McManus who did it.
But rumors are as good as 'nothin' but the truth,' in Oz.  
It's a long story.  I'll tell ya later.

BLARE and HILL resume walking and finally reach their table.  BLARE takes a 
seat next to REBADOW and HILL rolls his chair up on REBADOW's other side.

HILL (pointing to the letter in Rebadow's hands)
So, what's the word, Bob?

It's from my mother.

Yeah?  They're back from
Florida already?

Yes.  They got back last weekend.

Did your grandson have a good time at
Disney World?

REBADOW (smiling)
Yes, he did.  Mother says that he loved it.

Hey, that's great!  

She sent a picture, too... look...!

REBADOW hands the photograph to HILL.  It's a picture of his little grandson 
- bald from his chemotherapy, wearing a large blue baseball cap - sitting on 
Mickey Mouse's knee and smiling a bright, gap-toothed smile.  HILL leans over 
and shows BEECHER the photograph - he smiles.

Awww... that's cool, man.
Real cool.  (hands back the photo)
So did your mom say anything about 
his Leukemia?  How's he doin'?

REBADOW (eyes scanning the letter)
She says... his Leukemia is in remission, for the time
being.  His doctor said the warmth and sunshine did 
him a world of good.

Yeah, I bet!  Bein' cooped up in a hospital
24/7 is bound to be hard on a kid...!

BLARE (clears his throat softly; hesitantly)
Can I see...?
REBADOW (turns and looks at Blare; smiles)
Sure.  (hands him the photograph)

BLARE (admiringly)
Well, look at him!  How old?

Alex, Jr. will be eleven in March.

So young.  But his Leukemia is remission, right?
With luck, it might stay in remission.  For you and 
your family's sake, I hope it does.  My mother died 
of breast cancer, so I know what you're going through.   

I'm sorry to hear that.

BLARE (handing the photo back)
Oh, it's okay.  She died quite a few years ago.   

SCHILLINGER can't take his eyes off of BLARE - he lets SHULTZ take over 
handing out mail.

SCHILLINGER (whispering to Shultz:)
I'm gonna get that little fuckin' smart-ass limey fag.

SHULTZ (whispering)
I can set up some rec time with 
Metzger, if you want?

SCHILLINGER (whispering)
Nah, I can do it myself.   
Shouldn't take much to get his soft ass 
tamed.  A few days from now, he'll be 
beggin' to shine my boots...

SHULTZ chuckles knowingly; SCHILLINGER grins.

Cut to: BLARE
BLARE smiles as he, REBADOW, HILL and BEECHER talk - leaning on the table, 
absorbed in the conversation.


BLARE's smile fades - he turns and glances over his shoulder at SCHILLINGER.  
He stares back, unafraid.   


BLARE turns back and looks at BEECHER, sitting across the table.


You know what I'm talking about.  You won't
be satisfied till Vern's got you pinned down in 
the shower and he and the rest of the Aryan 
Brotherhood are fuckin' you blue, will ya?

Just because everybody else is afraid
of him, doesn't mean I have to be...

Nobody's sayin' nothin' like that, man.   
It don't have nothin' to do with being scared
of the man.  It's like I told ya - you wanna 
watch your step around him.  He can fuck 
you over twenty ways from Sunday if you
even look at him the wrong way.

I have *never* lived my life in fear.   
Now that I'm in here, you think that's
gonna change?  I'm supposed to crawl
under my bed and hide because I'm not 
outside anymore?

Don't tempt fate, Aaron.  It'll only
get you into trouble.   

Well, I can see it certainly got 
*you* into trouble, Toby.

BEECHER winces slightly.  HILL, REBADOW and KELLER share a knowing look 
between each other - an uncomfortable silence settles over the table.

BEECHER (low, almost a growl:)
'Scuse me.

BEECHER backs away from the table and rolls off.

BLARE (sighs)

BLARE pushes his chair back with a piercing metal screech, stands up from the 
table and trots after BEECHER, leaving HILL, REBADOW, KELLER and BUSMALIS 
staring at each other dumbly.

So...  y'all wanna play cards?


Cut to: INT.  A HALLWAY in EmCity
BEECHER rolls himself down an empty gray hallway - not quite sure where he's 
going - just knowing that he wants to get away.  BLARE follows behind him.


Fuck off, Aaron.

BLARE (amused; almost chuckling)
You're not going that fast, you know.
I can chase after ya.

BLARE walks along behind BEECHER's chair at an easy pace while BEECHER 
strains to move down the hallway more quickly.

I said fuck off!

I'm no more afraid of *you* than I am of *Vern*, 
so why don't you give this wheelchair-ridden
hermit act a rest, okay?  'Cause it's not gonna
work on me... you can't scare me off that easily.

BEECHER quickly swings his wheelchair around to face BLARE.   BLARE lurches 
and nearly walks headlong into him.  

What do you *want* from me, Aaron?

I want to apologize!

BEECHER (gruffly)
You don't have to.

Yes, I do.  (long pause)  I talk too much.
And a lot of times ... I say things
that, in my head, *sound* like good things,
but the minute they come out of my mouth,
I only end up regretting having said them.

Sounds like a personal problem to me.

Would you just stop it with that?!
Jesus, I'm trying to apologize to you!
What I said back there was fucked up.
It was cruel and I'm sorry.  None of it's
any of my business, anyway, right?
What do I know?  I've been here three
days and all of the sudden, I get this 
idea in my head that I think I know you.

But you don't know me.  You don't 
know shit about me.

And you don't know me, either.
But that's what I'm trying to get 
through to you...

BLARE kneels down next to BEECHER's wheelchair on one knee so that they're 
almost at eye-level with each other.

I want to be your friend.  We're a lot 
alike, you and me.  Neither of us belong 
in here, that's for sure...

What makes you so sure?  I could 
be Charles fuckin' Manson for all 
you know.

BLARE (grinning)
Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba.

BEECHER chuckles.  A quiet moment passes between the two of them.   

And here I am, once again... down on
my knees before you.  (tiny, self-conscious smile)

Aaron, I -

Listen, you don't have to say anything, okay?  
You don't have to say anything at all.  I - I 
just want you to know that I've got your back.   
Any time you need my help, I'll be here for you.

BEECHER is dumbstruck, but flattered.

So... do you forgive me?  (small, nervous chuckle)

BEECHER (smiling)
Yeah... yeah.  Sure I do.

Good!  So... friends, then?
(holds out his hand to Beecher)

BEECHER (taking Blare's hand, shaking it)
Friends... (smiles)

In numerology, the number 3 is representative 
of some of the best aspects of the human 
personality-revealing all the divine emotions 
and abilities of which we lowly, hairless apes 
are truly capable.  Charm, creativity, humor, 
enthusiasm, optimism...

Cut to: Int. GLASS POD 
HILL is seated in the center of the pod.   He sits behind a card table with a 
purple velvet sign tacked onto the front edge of the table, trimmed with gold 
and embroidered with mystical-looking symbols.  The sign reads "FORTUNE 
TELLER" in yellow lettering.  

HILL has a pointy sorcerer's apprentice cap on his head, adorned with gold 
embroidered stars and moons and a cheap-looking blue velvet cape draped over 
his shoulders.  On the table before him sits a crystal ball and he holds a 
magician's black and white wand in his hand.

Everybody always says, "Third times the charm."   
Shit, even Lionel Ritchie said, "Once, twice, three 
times a lady..."!  
(long pause)
But, they also say, "Three's company."  
Or what about when people die?  Every time one 
person dies, they say two more people are gonna 
buy the farm - that they *die in threes*.
And you never, ever, *ever* light three peoples' 
cigarettes with one match, either.  It's bad luck!

Cut back to: Int. A HALLWAY in EmCity
At the CORNER that turns down the hallway that BLARE and BEECHER are standing 
in, we see KELLER's face peeking, but just for a brief second. He wants to 
make sure that they won't see him.  The close up is so tight, all we're able 
to see are his face and the sharp edge of the corner.  

HILL (VO - cont'd)
What all those new age cats didn't figured into 
their equations, though, was the inherent 
*weakness* of the human animal.

KELLER slowly peeks around the corner once again.  A few yards down, in the 
middle of the hallway, BLARE and BEECHER are so caught up in talking to one 
another, they don't even notice anyone is watching.  BLARE is down on one 
knee next to BEECHER's wheelchair and is smiling up at BEECHER warmly as he 

Extreme Close-up: KELLER
KELLER watches, his eyes narrowing, and can't believe what he's seeing.  His 
eyes reveal the hurt that's buried deep down underneath the facade and 
pretentions KELLER tries to put out to everyone else in Oz.  

Human nature will kick the ass of a horoscope, or 
a numerology chart, or a roll of the runes, any day.

KELLER lowers his head, turns and walks away.  

Cut back to: GLASS POD
HILL waves his magic wand with a flourish and vanishes in a puff of white 

Continued in Part Five

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