Digital Ischemia

21/12/2018

Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 1/4

cartoon sketch of Beattie Snaw-Whit

A farcical fairy tale where magic looks more like contrary technology and character flaws are diversity.

SCENE 1.
NARRATOR: (V.O.) Look at that snow! It doesn’t even smell like snow! What is it – shaved coconut? For radio? Anyway, that’s not my line.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, FINGERNAIL TAPS ON WINDOW
QUEEN: Look at that snow! Curse and confound it!
MAUD: It is midwinter, Mrs MacQueen-Snow-White.
QUEEN: It is required to keep it shut unless directly addressed.
MAUD: You want your window shut?
QUEEN: Don’t be obtuse, Maud.
MAUD: Sorry, madam. Watch yourself – this embroidery thread is all knots. I keep snagging on this branch.
QUEEN: My skill with the needle and other instruments of medication is all that keeps me going in this ruined shell—
MAUD: Oh, you don’t look that bad.
QUEEN: —Of a castle. Was that an attempt at wit?
MAUD: Sorry, madam.
QUEEN: And you wonder why I can’t trust any of you.
MAUD: Not really.
QUEEN: That was rhetorical.
MAUD: Gotcha. Might the bright white light delight your sight for needle, er, point?
QUEEN: White whit?
MAUD: Good one. I mean watch what yo—
QUEEN: Ow! Ya wee basta’d!
MAUD: I never touched you!
QUEEN: Ah’m bleedin’! Ah’m gonnae pass oot!
SOUND: WHUMP
MAUD: Oh, bobbins. There goes the posh accent, eh? Ah, well, it’ll help your blood pressure at least – that spurt was fair arcing out the window. Right, the important thing is not to panic or do anything rash. Where’s that dish rag? Ooh, must dust Missus’ precious mirror.

SCENE 2.
SOUND: BG WORKSHOP BANGS, CLATTERS, RATTLES. MINIATURE CLOCKWORK CLINKS, RATCHET
GALLUS DAVE: Techy Dave! Whit’s this drivel? This mirror wurkin’? Five groats says the hexie’s at it like wasps at jam.
TECHY DAVE: Aye, aye, dinnae fash yersel’, Gallus Dave. Cracked lang syne, a’ tickety-boo like, jist a wee bit ae stoursweepin’.
GALLUS DAVE: This is no’ the time fer fouterin’ at yer cloackwurk hoosekeeper, man!
TECHY DAVE: Naw, naw, Davey man; Ah’m tot’lly oan the mirror. Technic’lly speakin’s: pittin’ the dust back, so’s naeb’dy kens we tot’lly hacked the scunner!
GALLUS DAVE: Er, guid. By the way, how are you wurkin’ oan this here while it’s o’er there at yon fancy castle?
TECHY DAVE: Et’s a mirror.
GALLUS DAVE: Aye, ya pea-heid!
TECHY DAVE: Naw, man, et’s a mirror ae a mirror! Whitever Ah dae here happens tae the real wan. Et’s synchrolised!
GALLUS DAVE: Whit’s ‘at hocus pocus?
TECHY DAVE: Aye, Davina’s set us up braw wi’ the incantin’s.
GALLUS DAVE: (SIGH)

SCENE 3.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, HALF-HEARTED FLAPPING
MAUD: There, now. Get some air.
QUEEN: (MOAN)
CLAUDE: (OFF) ‘Allo, ‘allo. But what eez zis blooody well bloood? Eez zerre a pauvre petit beastie in zis plac? ‘Ere, beastie-beastie!
MAUD: Oh, good morning Claude Hunter. Mrs MacQueen just fumbled her needle.
CLAUDE: (OFF) She eez a not bad shot. Forr what was she aimeeng?
MAUD: A squirrel I think. It’s hard to tell; this cheap thread’s all bobbly. Anyway, she’s fainted. Can you throw up some snow?
CLAUDE: (OFF) Srrow up?! Ah, yess. Zis eez no prroblem. Of corrse she must suck on ‘airr blooody well sacrrifice.
SOUND: SCRAPE, WALLOP
MAUD: Lovely pink! And brown. Never mind; make do. Thank you, Claude!
SOUND: TRUDGING, CREAKING THROUGH SNOW
CLAUDE: (OFF) So, wherre eez ze beastie? ‘Erre, beastie-beastie!
MAUD: Blot the temples, avoid the precious hairdo.
QUEEN: Oof, ma heid. Whit?! Grindin’ at ma brow wi’ filthy slush?! Half-witted hussy. (MOAN)
MAUD: At least it’s not yellow snow.
QUEEN: Wheer am I? (WAIL) White! Black! Red! The wench! That Beattie fool Snow-White! Doo-oom!
SOUND: SLUMP, HALF-HEARTED FLAPPING
MAUD: Still fixating on that old prophecy, eh, Queenie? You sleep it off while I dust.
SOUND: FLAP, WHUMP, ORNAMENTS CLATTER
MAUD (CONT’D): These high-strung types! Just like dear Beattie’s mother, her Lightheadedness the Having-been Queen, may she rest in peace – forever fainting over her sewing needle. I remember that time she came around, saw the white snow, through the black ebony window frame, then her own red blood. Dizzy old dear thought it was a Sign she should have a daughter who was white and black and red all over, when clearly what she was after was a nice book.
QUEEN: Not interested in your dreary reminiscence, Maud.

SCENE 4.
SOUND: TRUDGING, CREAKING THROUGH SNOW
CLAUDE: ‘Erre beastie-beastie!
BEATTIE: (OFF) Hullo Clod Hunter! Here I am!
CLAUDE: ‘Allo Miss Beattie, I see yeu.
BEATTIE: And how do I look?
CLAUDE: Wiz yeurr eyess?
BEATTIE: (V.O.) So cool.
CLAUDE: My name iss Claude.
BEATTIE: (DREAMILY) Yes, Clod; Clod Hunter. Speaking of which, how goes the extra— extric— externomina— killing business?
CLAUDE: Eet eez blooody, well, see: Madame MacQueen’s blooody well.
BEATTIE: Oh, Clod! You finished Shirley MacQueen? Sure— Shirl— Surely not! Papa would be so sad.
CLAUDE: I sink ‘e would not noteece.

SCENE 5.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, FABRIC RUMPLES
QUEEN: Maud, have you not chores or errands and suchlike to attend to?
MAUD: No, madam, I did everything this morning since you were kind enough to wake me so early so I could spend—
SOUND: CRASH, TINKLE
MAUD (CONT’D): Oh, dear, where’s that rag?
QUEEN: Get me another glass.
MAUD: There’s one behind you, look.
QUEEN: Get me another.
MAUD: Yes, madam. I’ll just blot that wine before—
QUEEN: Now, Maud, and another bottle from the cellar.
MAUD: Yes, madam.
SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN, THUDS SHUT
QUEEN: Now— Oh, the seeping red stain on my white rug! Oh, and look! Look, the broken glass! The glass looks black!
SOUND: GLINGLE
MIRROR: You called, mistress.
QUEEN: I did not.
MIRROR: I definitely heard a summoning.
QUEEN: I’ll gi’e you summon for your insolence!
MIRROR: I have eighty-four percent correlation with your sample audio. Your accent is slipping. Are you feeling stressed?
QUEEN: Wheesht!
MIRROR: To what penetrating question may I offer you twenty not-quite-the-answers?
QUEEN: Whit?!
MIRROR: Always here. Always keen.
QUEEN: Always interrupting with your inane demands. Infernal device!
SOUND: CHAIR CREAKS, ROBES DRAG
QUEEN (CONT’D): Pay attention. Mirror, mirror, on the wall; who is the fairest of all?
MIRROR: You, InsertFriendlyAccountNameQuee, are the fairest of all…within the user-specified constraints, for a user-edited definition of—
QUEEN: Good! And, by the way, I hear you add insert to injury! Now shut the hell up!
MIRROR: I’m sorry, I don’t understand that command. Do you want me to A: shout a spell, B: shake a bell, C: go polish myself?
QUEEN: (SHRIEK) I’ll have you hammered into a passable chamber pot – passable, ha!
SOUND: CRASH, TINKLE
MIRROR: Would you like to see local apothecary services? Would you like to see local leaded glazing services? Do you have accidental damage insurance cover? (LOW) ‘Accidental’ my all-seeing eye.
GALLUS DAVE: (V.O.) Nice wan, Dave-o.
TECHY DAVE: (V.O.) Braw, eh? (GIGGLE)

SCENE 6.
SOUND: BREEZE, SNOW CLODS FALL
CLAUDE: (HALF-HEARTED INCANTATION GIBBERISH)
SOUND: SLAP, STAB, SQUELCH
BEATTIE: Hullo Clod Hunter!
CLAUDE: ‘Allo Miss Beattie. Yeu ‘ave yeurr walk?
BEATTIE: Yes, most invisk— inverul— pleasant. Are you rit-u-al-ising that roadkill?
CLAUDE: Ah, yess, I nearrly ‘ad ze leettle bunny, but ze gods zey choose ze carrt teu end eet.
BEATTIE: Bless it.
CLAUDE: Arre yeu going down zerre?
BEATTIE: Anything for yeu, I mean you, Clod.
CLAUDE: Yeu arre funny wiz yeurr shrinking down! I mean een ze dunzheon, no?
BEATTIE: Ah, oh, yes, yes, that’s where I’m going. Chapter five today.
CLAUDE: I admirre ‘ow yeu develop yeurrself, Miss Beattie.
BEATTIE: Oh, thank you, Clod. Mama RIP will be proud of me one day.

SCENE 7.
SOUND: SOLID FOOTSTEPS ON ANCIENT STONE SLABS, ECHO. BELL TOLLS OMINOUSLY, CLUMPS SILENT ON STONE. ANCIENT HEAVY DOOR CREAKS OPEN, THUDS SHUT. TORCH FLAME SPUTTERS
BEATTIE: (DEEP MOAN, BUILD TO ROARING WAIL) I feel much better for that.
SOUND: WEIGHTY BOOK WHUMPS ON SLAB, WHOOSH OF DUST
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (COUGH)
SOUND: HEAVY VELLUM PAGES SLAP
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Lesson five: a Love Potion. Corset bracket dif-claim-er: the author hereby in-dem-ni-fief herfelf from any li-ability in the unlikely event that the object of your defire fhould fail to refpond. By continuing to read you accept the foregoing and undertake to hold the author free from all ref-pon-fibility ad lib ad infinitum ofcillatio plumbi corset bracket full ftop. Oof. Ah, but my dearest beloved Clod Hunter, you are worth every lesson. Time for a well-earned break.
SOUND: BOOK WHUMPS

SCENE 8.
SOUND: APPROACHING SHUFFLING SLIPPERS, ECHO, APPROACHING STEEL HEELS CLANG. ABRUBT HALT
QUEEN: (GASP)
KING: Goood morning, Shirlih, me Queen. ‘Ow do?
QUEEN: Kingsley, morning, aye. Very busy, important decisions, managing castle staff etc.
KING: Earlih bird, eh, ar lass? Ah’ll be rahght with yoou woonce ‘ad ‘breakfast. Cannot fehce ‘Snawit empahre without foood.
QUEEN: No need, no need, my…dear. All in hand. Must dash.
KING: Rahght yoou are. Ooh, Ah smell tooast. Yoom yoom.
SOUND: RAPID DEPARTING STEEL HEELS CLANG, SHUFFLING, RUBBING HANDS, SUCKING LIPS, FADES
QUEEN: (V.O.) Success has its sacrifice.

SCENE 9.
SOUND: TORCH FLAME SPUTTERS, BOOK WHUMPS, HEAVY VELLUM PAGES SLAP
BEATTIE: (V.O.) Right, where was I? Um. Lesson five: a Love Potion, corset bracket, blah blah ek-cetra. You will need two beetles one earwig. (PAUSE) I wish it was clearer if those are drawings or punc-tu-i-tion.
NARRATOR: (V.O.) And so it goes tediously on until, one day, the stepdaughter, Beattie, is officially Grown Up.

SCENE 10.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, DOOR SLAMS, STEEL HEELS STRIDE
QUEEN: Mirror, mirror, on the wa— Awake, you tarnished pig-iron remnant!
SOUND: WALLOP, GLINGLE
QUEEN (CONT’D): Come on! Who is the fairest of all?
MIRROR: Snow White is the fairest of all.
QUEEN: White? Whit? Whae? The wench? That Beattie fool Snow-White! Doom!
SOUND: DOOR CREAKS
MAUD: (OFF) Mrs M, are you wanting a dose of the foxglove yourself? Cook wants to know if it’s just Mr Kingsley getting a bit amorous or— Gosh, what arresting shades of yellow and green, madam. Are we having another swoonorama?
QUEEN: Hate her! Bitch must go! Her skin is white, her hair is black, and her eyes glow red like hellfire!
MAUD: If you say so, missus.
QUEEN: Bring that Claude Huntsman boy! Now!
MAUD: Right you are. (OFF) Foxglove all round, I think.

SCENE 11.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, FINGERNAILS DRUM, APPROACHING HEAVY BOOTS
QUEEN: Claude.
CLAUDE: Madame.
QUEEN: Listen very carefully: I shall say this only once.
CLAUDE: I pin up my earrs.
QUEEN: Take the girl away, into the forest, deep into the forest, and kill her. Got that?
CLAUDE: Yeu want ‘airr keelled, err, dead, madame?
QUEEN: Precisely.
CLAUDE: Miss Beattie?
QUEEN: Yes! None of your cowardly squeamish nonsense. And to prove you’ve done it, bring me her lungs and liver!
CLAUDE: Err, deu yeu not want ‘airr ‘earrt or ‘airr keedney pairr’aps? Somesing morre tasty, no?
QUEEN: Absolutely not. She will survive without those. I want her unequivocally dead.
CLAUDE: Wizzout ‘er keedney, pairr’aps, yess, she leeve, but wizzout ‘airr ‘earrt she eez surrely dead?
QUEEN: Are you arguing with me?
CLAUDE: Err, no, madame, certainment, forr off corrse you show me preciseley ‘ow weun ‘eartless can leeve. I go at weunce. Zey deu not coll me Claude ze ‘Untairr forr nossing. Sank yeu. Farrewell.
QUEEN: You’re still here.
CLAUDE: But I go preciseley at weunce. Absolutement. Au revoir.
QUEEN: Go!
CLAUDE: Yess, off corrse, rright zis meenite.
SOUND: GLASS SMASHES AGAINST WALL, HUSTLING, DOOR SLAMS SHUT
CLAUDE (CONT’D): (OFF) Merde. Morte. Blooody well hell.

SCENE 12.
SOUND: MUNCHING, CUTLERY, APPROACHING STEEL HEELS CLANG
QUEEN: Kingsley, the girl must go.
KING: (GULP) ‘Oo? Your mehd Maud?
QUEEN: Beattie, you carbohydrated carbuncle!
KING: (GULP) Boutt, Shirlih, me queen, tha said tha liked ‘er.
QUEEN: That was just to get you— Never mind. I do like her—love her—of course, but she’s not…developing as befits one in her…enhanced circumstances.
KING: Rahght, rahght. Woon so eeasily, oom, dohn’t see, oom, woon’s daughter’s yooseless…nesses, me loove.
QUEEN: If you say so, Kingsley.
KING: Cannot be ‘elped, me queen. Aye, me beeyoutifool Beattie; joost lahke ‘moother: with ‘whahte skin, ‘black ‘air—
QUEEN: —Eyes that glow red like hellfire.
KING: Aye.
QUEEN: Naw, the lassie needs guidance, a strong role model.
KING: Now tha talking!
QUEEN: Aw, naw, that wouldnae dae at a’!
KING: Boout surelih, Shirlih, me queen—?
QUEEN: Certainly, Kingsley.
KING: Boout ar lass couldn’t get ‘better role model than thee?
QUEEN: Awfy sweet ae ye, and unusually perceptive, but ye know I couldnae spare the time and energy she’d take.
KING: Aye, ar lass moosn’t be ‘burden toh yoou.
QUEEN: That’s settled then: she’s away at first light.
KING: Boout Shirlih, boout surely, Shirlih, me queen—?
QUEEN: Let’s not do that again.

SCENE 13.
SOUND: SOLID FOOTSTEPS ON ANCIENT STONE SLABS, ECHO. BELL TOLLS OMINOUSLY, CLUMPS SILENT ON STONE. ANCIENT HEAVY DOOR CREAKS OPEN, THUDS SHUT. TORCH FLAME SPUTTERS
BEATTIE: (DEEP MOAN, BUILD TO ROARING WAIL) I do almost feel the Power sometimes.
SOUND: WEIGHTY BOOK WHUMPS ON SLAB, WHOOSH OF DUST
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (COUGH)
SOUND: HEAVY VELLUM PAGES SLAP
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Lesson sixty-two: eradicating infestations. (SIGH) I was rather hoping—
SOUND: VELLUM RIFFLES
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Ugh, no excitement till lesson seventy-five. Drat. Head down, then. Let’s learn how to kill…what is it? Woodlice? Infeftations by unwanted vifitors can be furprifingly perfiftent and may require repeated applicationf of the repellent over feveral feafonf. You will need the usual two beetles and an earwig, plus one bulb garlic, three cupfulf frefh dung, two fingerf juniper fap… Fap?

SCENE 14.
SOUND: APPROACHING STEEL HEELS CLANG, ECHO
QUEEN: Ah, there you are, my…dear.
BEATTIE: Hallo muh—Mrs Shirl—Mrs MacQueen, ma’am.
QUEEN: Beattie, dear, at your age a girl ought to learn about life, and sadly, so sadly, life in this castle is just not sufficiently…varied and…challenging to teach you.
BEATTIE: Yes, that’s why I—
QUEEN: —must go out into the world—how quickly you pick up, dear, a true Snaw-Whit through and through—to hone— What is that repulsive odour? Have you been rolling in the midden?
BEATTIE: Do you see any flies on me?
QUEEN: What? Where was I? Yes, to fly, to hum–to hone your wits, to find your fate–fortune.
BEATTIE: To whit? To who?
QUEEN: Oh, do stop whooing; you sound like an owl. You will leave before dawn tomorrow. Claude Hunter will accompany you through the forest.
BEATTIE: Oh, goody.

SCENE 15.
SOUND: OWL HOOTS, SHRUBS RUSTLE
BEATTIE: Hullo, Clod Hunter.
CLAUDE: Goood morneeng, Miss Beattie.
BEATTIE: Well met on land lit by moonlight!
CLAUDE: Ah, yess, blooody well met!
BEATTIE: But it’s not blood, Clod; it’s cherry juice! For us to drink! I got a bit excited and spilled some.
CLAUDE: Yeu would give teu me zis cherry of yeurrs?
BEATTIE: Oh, yes, Clod, and much more. Ahem. Cherries have lots of an-tho-cy-an-ins which give you a pretty pink colour, although they have little nu-tri-tion-al value.
CLAUDE: Zey arre healsy?
BEATTIE: Oh, yes, very healthy.
CLAUDE: Zen yeu mus drreenk oll off eet! At weunce!
BEATTIE: That’s very kind of—
SOUND: GLUGS, CHOKE, SPLUTTER
BEATTIE (CONT’D): Too much!

SCENE 16.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, STEEL HEELS PACE ON CREAKY FLOORBOARDS
QUEEN: Where is that blessed French twit?
MAUD: Did you order tea and cakes already, madam?
QUEEN: The great Gaulish oaf, you loathsome drab! You know: broad of chest and narrow of forehead! Tell Cook I want spring onions and plenty salt.
MAUD: Any garlic?
QUEEN: Don’t try to be smart, Maud.

SCENE 17.
SOUND: CLOTHING STRAINS, TWANGS. SHRUBS RUSTLE, TWIGS SNAP
BEATTIE: Ah, that’s much better, thank you. I should’ve known that cherry juice would go straight through.
CLAUDE: I ‘op’ yeu enzhoy eet, Miss Beattie.
SOUND: PLODDING, TRUDGING THROUGH VEGETATION
BEATTIE: Ooh, isn’t it dark, Clod? It’s like the sun hasn’t even come up. I might be a bit scared if you weren’t here to protect me.
CLAUDE: Eef only yeu kneu! I am a traitorr! But what am I teu deu? Ze weetch weell ‘ave my testeecluh on ‘airr French toast.
BEATTIE: Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her. She’s just a so-ci-o-path. Soon I’ll be much more powerful than her.
CLAUDE: ‘Ow I weesh zis werre treu! Zat yeu weell leeve to vanqueesh zat ‘orrible MacQueen.
BEATTIE: Oh, but it is true! I shall go off on my travels and learn all sorts!
CLAUDE: Yeu weell not leafe zis forrest!
BEATTIE: How sweet of you to be concerned for me. But I will be strong, with your lov—help. I’m going to have such adventures! Then, when I come home, I’ll have so much to tell you while I cook the…vegetables you’ve caught.
CLAUDE: (LOW) Be ssrrong!
SOUND: LONG BLADE WHEECHS FROM SHEATH
BEATTIE: (LOW) Have you seen a prey, Clod?
CLAUDE: (WEEPING) I ‘ave, such a terreebluh ‘untairr I am.
BEATTIE: (LOW) Do you think you could show me how it’s done? I mean it’s really number one on the list of life skills, isn’t it? Finding food? Mama’s flora only gets me so far, RIP.
CLAUDE: Not zis time! Zis is ze way off ze cowarrd!
BEATTIE: Ooh, is it? Hang on; I’ll just write that down for future reference.
SOUND: PENCIL SCRIBBLES
BEATTIE (CONT’D): Is this ‘way’ how you get other things to do the actual killing for you? It’s terribly clever. Oh, but, hush me! I must let you stalk in silence.
SOUND: CLUMSY FOOTFALLS CRASH THROUGH UNDERGROWTH, BRANCHES CRACK
CLAUDE: (WAIL)
BEATTIE: (GASP) Clod! How could you?! Your knife!

Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves continues at Episode 2

3 Comments »

  1. […] A farcical fairy tale where magic looks more like contrary technology and character flaws are diversity. Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves begins at Episode 1. […]

    Pingback by Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 2/4 | Digital Ischemia — 22/12/2018 @ 16:56

  2. […] A farcical fairy tale where magic looks more like contrary technology and character flaws are diversity. Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves begins at Episode 1. […]

    Pingback by Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 3/4 | Digital Ischemia — 24/12/2018 @ 15:36

  3. […] A farcical fairy tale where magic looks more like contrary technology and character flaws are diversity. Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves begins at Episode 1. […]

    Pingback by Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 4/4 | Digital Ischemia — 24/12/2018 @ 15:36


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