Digital Ischemia

22/12/2018

Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 2/4

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.

SCENE 18.
SOUND: BIRDS CHIRP, SHRUBS RUSTLE
BEATTIE: (GASP) Clod! How could you?! Your knife! You’ve killed this boar without me even seeing your knife move!
CLAUDE: (RAGGED) Err, merde, I, err. Thees eez not what was suppos-sed to ‘appen.
BEATTIE: Has Shirley been horrid to you again?
CLAUDE: Yess! Eet eez a ‘euman lung and leevairr she want. Err, yeurs, preciseley.
BEATTIE: Ooh, that’s actually cann-i-bal-ist! Not very nice at all, quite frankly.
CLAUDE: I deu not kneu forr what she eez wanteeng eet. So, yeu see, eet eez yeu orr me, Miss Beattie!
BEATTIE: That’s a conundrum alright; of course I couldn’t kill you any more than you could kill me. There has to be a (MELODRAMATICALLY) Third Way.
CLAUDE: Eet eez ‘op’less.
BEATTIE: (LOW) We can’t both be dead or there’d be no-one to carry us back. (PAUSE) Ah! HA HA HA!
CLAUDE: Yeu arre scairreeng me!
BEATTIE: I have it! I may even let you kiss me!
CLAUDE: I weell not veeolatte ze dead wiz ze kisseeng!
BEATTIE: Yes, the dead! The boar, Clod! The poor, old boar!
CLAUDE: What ‘as yeur fazzairr to do wiz eet?
BEATTIE: Papa? What? No, listen: what is the difference between a human liver and a boar’s liver?
CLAUDE: I deu not kneu, what eez ze deefferronce between—
BEATTIE: Zis i—this is not a joke!
CLAUDE: No, zis eez no zhokeeng mattairr.
BEATTIE: Do you think Shirley MacQueen can tell the difference?
CLAUDE: Off what?
BEATTIE: Clod!! Take her that poor boar’s en-ter-rails! Tell her they’re mine. I’ll go off on my adventures. You wait for me at home. Job done.
CLAUDE: Marrvelleuse! We arre say-ved! Yeu arre weun crraftey wench, Miss Beattie! (JOYOUS WEEPING)
BEATTIE: (OVER-EXCITED BLUBBING)

SCENE 19.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, FINGERNAIL TAPS, APPROACHING WEARY STEPS
QUEEN: Is he back?
MAUD: Not as such, no. Madam, Cook says do you want her to make those spring onions into an omelette? They’re wilting.
QUEEN: Is there nae end tae these idiotic questions?! Enough tae drive a pairfectly well-balanced pairson oot their wits.
MAUD: I don’t think there’s any danger of that.
QUEEN: Very thin ice, Maud.

SCENE 20.
SOUND: BIRDS CHIRP, SHRUBS RUSTLE, HONKING NOSEBLOW
BEATTIE: No, you keep my hanky in case you have another si-nus-it-is attack. It must be the pollen. The bees spread it, you know.
CLAUDE: Sank yeu, sank yeu. (SNIFF)
BEATTIE: Now, what did the ‘grond beetch’ say again? Liver and onions?
CLAUDE: Yess, indeed, ze livairr and ze leung.
BEATTIE: Which bits are those exactly?
CLAUDE: Ze leung, yeu see. (VIGOROUS SUCKS AND BLOWS)
BEATTIE: Got you. Whoo, what a powerful chest. Well, you just surgically remove those bits. Don’t let me hold you back from the rit-u-al-ising either.
CLAUDE: Yess, indeed, I mus rreturrn victorrious! I show zat evil weetch some blooody well bloood. Pardon moi, pauvre Monsieur le sanglier. (RETCH)
SOUND: HACKS, SQUELCH

SCENE 21.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, FINGERNAIL TAPS ON WINDOW
QUEEN: AHAHAHAHA! Maud!
MAUD: Yes, Madam?
QUEEN: There! Do you see?
MAUD: What am I looking at? The dark?
QUEEN: Dark approaches through the dark.
MAUD: Is that one of your foreign philosophy thingies?
QUEEN: It’s the huntsman, you impenetrably dense girl. The Norman numpty returns. Alone!

SCENE 22.
SOUND: BIRDS CHIRP, SHRUBS RUSTLE, TWIGS SNAP
BEATTIE: Hullo Mr Birch, hullo Ms Hawthorn.
SOUND: CAW, HOOT
BEATTIE (CONT’D): Hullo Mr Rook, hullo Ms Owl, hullo Mr Toad. I’ll be quite worn out with all this soc-i-al-ising. Gosh, it is getting rather twilight.
NARRATOR: (V.O.) It’s certainly not ‘the dark night of the soul’!
SOUND: CRASHING THROUGH UNDERGROWTH, SQUEAKS OF ALARM
BEATTIE: Oops, sorry about that, Ms Stoat. Ahem. Ooh, is that— Yes! A cottage! Hot soup and muffins ahoy. Oh, well done, forest people.
SOUND: DOOR KNOCKS

SCENE 23.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, SPLAT, SQUELCH
CLAUDE: ‘Erre yeu arre, Madame. Weun leung.
SOUND: SPLAT
CLAUDE (CONT’D): Weun livairr. Frreshley cut frrom ze dead bodey. Which I off corrse keelled.
QUEEN: Indeed. Maud! Clear this lot away. Claude, I did not know you had it in you.
CLAUDE: No, Madame; not een me, but een ‘airr—
QUEEN: Quite, quite. Maud!
SOUND: SQUELCH
MAUD: Smells a bit gamey to me.
QUEEN: Not interested in your opinion, Maud. Mince to the kitchen.
MAUD: (OFF) As if I could mince anywhere with these knees!
QUEEN: Well, Claude? Anything else?
CLAUDE: Err, no. I rreturrn to worrk?
QUEEN: Toot sweet.
CLAUDE: What doz zis mean?
QUEEN: How should I know? It’s French!

SCENE 24.
SOUND: BIRDS CHIRP. DOOR KNOCKS
BEATTIE: Hullo? Hullo? Anyone home?
SOUND: LATCH LIFTS

BEATTIE: (V.O.) Ooh, not locked; I suppose you don’t need to, with all these friendly creatures about. A bit rough—rustic.
SOUND: FABRIC DRAGS PAST WALL, CLOCK TICKS
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Still, very welcoming. I should probably write this all down in my adventure journal.
SOUND: NOTEPAD SPINE CREAKS, PENCIL SLITHERS
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Adorable living room, fire made up ready, delightful rustic table ek-cetra, laid with two, four, six, seven places! Perfect for quality family times. (SIGH)
SOUND: CONSCIENTIOUS SCRIBBLING
NARRATOR: (V.O., YAWN)
BEATTIE: (V.O.) Ahem. I wonder if this food’s been left out all day. Very app-et-ising, but not very food safety. No meat, though. Oh, I wonder how Clod Hunter is getting on with the boar’s gibbly-bits.
SOUND: SCRIBBLING
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Missing Clod already. Love-heart. Um, my middle hurts. I wonder if this is heartache or hunger? Maybe I could try a bit of each place setting – just a taster. No-one would notice anything missing.
SOUND: SCOFF, SCRUNCH, SCOFF, SCRUNCH, GULP, SHUFFLE, SCOFF, SCRUNCH, GUZZLE, STIFLED BURP
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Yum. Well done again, forest people. (YAWN) I’m really rather pooped now. I hope it’s not food poisoning. No, must be all that plodding about in the wood all day. I’ll see if there’s a spare be—oh, lovely: seven of them! How about this first one?
SOUND: BED SPRINGS CREAK
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Not totally comfy. The second?
NARRATOR: (V.O.) Could we possibly skip on? No? Right, where’s my sweets?
SOUND: RUMMAGE, PLASTIC WRAP SQUEAKS, RUSTLES. BED SPRINGS CREAK
BEATTIE: (V.O.) Hmm, a bit firm.
SOUND: BED SPRINGS CREAK, BED SHEETS RUSTLE
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) Too soft. Too slanty. Too jaggy. Too long. All really quite disappointing. No, still one left; here’s hoping.
SOUND: BED SHEETS CRUMPLE
BEATTIE (CONT’D): Oh, perfect! (YAWN) Mumfle.

SCENE 25.
SOUND: WEARY STEPS ON STONE, DRIPS, APPROACHING SHUFFLES, ECHO
KING: ‘Ello Maud, me dear. Tha look offal, hoho!
MAUD: (GIGGLE) Clod Hunter’s brought carrion again, sir.
KING: Best avoid ‘stew, ey?

SCENE 26.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, DOOR BATTERS OPEN, BOOTS CLATTER
GALLUS DAVE: Hoi, Techy Dave, did you leave the door open, ye lazy boay?
TECHY DAVE: Naw, Ah didnae. Wooden Dave was supposed tae lock up.
WOODEN DAVE: Oi checked it as we was leavin’. It’ll be Wee Dive’s sparra ‘e’s bin trinin’.
WEE DAVE: (SQUEAK) It’s a raven!
DOODLE DAVE: That rehven’s mohre lahke ‘coahl tit.
GALLUS DAVE: Whae cares? Ah’m raven-ous. M’on, Wee Dave; away fae Doodle Dave’s ankles.
DOODLE DAVE: Ey? Oo’s been eating ‘bread?
TECHY DAVE: Whae’s been at ma vino, mere like.
EXTREME DAVE: Aw, neot the tucker?
WOODEN DAVE: Someone ‘as been sat in moy chair!
DAVINA: Fit’s wrawng wi’ Wee Dave?
WEE DAVE: There’s a…girl in my bed!
GALLUS DAVE: Whit?
TECHY DAVE: Niver mind, Wee Dave, still plenty space fer ye.
WOODEN DAVE: Just ignore Techy Dive, Wee Dive, you knaow what ‘e’s like: ‘is ‘ead’s made a wood.
DAVINA: Whit a crowd ae haiverels; niver seen a quean afore.
TECHY DAVE: Will we keep the lassie for the chores, then?
GALLUS DAVE: Wheesht, ya bam.
DOODLE DAVE: Philistahn.
GALLUS DAVE: So long as she’s cowped in Wee Dave’s bed, Wee Dave either needs tae sleep wi’ her or wi’ wan ae uz. Whit’s it tae be?
TECHY DAVE: Crivvens.
DOODLE DAVE: Croombs.
WEE DAVE: Curtains.

SCENE 27.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, JIGGING STEPS
QUEEN: (CACKLE) Triumph! Bye-bye Beattie, you turgid pudding. And I, patient, self-sacrificing I, shall get my reward at last! Shan’t I? Ooh, the excit–
SOUND: GLINGLE
QUEEN (CONT’D): Not yet, you crumpled lump of lead!

SCENE 28.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, ASSORTED SNORES, BG DAWN CHORUS
BEATTIE: (YAWN) That was the best kip ever.
SOUND: RUSTLING BED SHEETS
WEE DAVE: (SQUEAK)
BEATTIE: (GASP) Men!
SOUND: FRANTIC GRASPS AT BED SHEETS
WOODEN DAVE: Ey?
TECHY DAVE: Eh?
GALLUS DAVE: Whit’s ‘at?
WEE DAVE: (SQUEAK)
GALLUS DAVE: Wee Dave, are ye needin’ wan ae yer anxiety tablets?
EXTREME DAVE: Never too soon for a tinny, mite.
SOUND: HYPERVENTILATING
GALLUS DAVE: Is that you, Wee Dave, or— Shitey shoes, that’s some lassie!
SOUND: BED SPRINGS CREAK, BED SHEETS WHISK, RABBLE
BEATTIE: Please hush! Sorry. Who are you?!
ALL DAVES: Dave-Dive-Davey-Dive-squeak-Davina-Dehv.
BEATTIE: One at a time! (PAUSE) Sorry, I’m just a bit grumpy from waking up.
DAVINA: Guid for you, quean. I’m Davina.
GALLUS DAVE: Er, Gallus Dave.
EXTREME DAVE: Extrime Dive.
TECHY DAVE: Techy Dave.
WOODEN DAVE: Wooden Dive.
WEE DAVE: Wee Dave.
DOODLE DAVE: Dooodle Dehv.
BEATTIE: You look rather like Papa.
DOODLE DAVE: (CLOSE) Prodoouction streeamlahning, loove.
BEATTIE: (CLOSE) Oh, right. What happens when you’re both on?
DOODLE DAVE: (CLOSE) Croombs.
NARRATOR: (V.O.) Fret not! I can do all the acc–!
BEATTIE: Ahem! So, you’re all called Dave?
ALL DAVES: Aye-yis-yep-squeak-yeh.
DAVINA: We a’ answered the advertyzment.
GALLUS DAVE: The wise auld wumman that stayed here afore.
WOODEN DAVE: She were wan’in’ seven guys what were deft.
DOODLE DAVE: Dwarfed!
TECHY DAVE: Dafties!
DAVINA: Devas!
EXTREME DAVE: Divers!
GALLUS DAVE: Doesnae matter; she says maist folk ken aboot seven Daves, an’ reight enough–
WEE DAVE: She found jobs for everyone.
DAVINA: Then the puir al’ biddy pawpped her clawgs.
EXTREME DAVE: Cactus.
WOODEN DAVE: ‘Ere we all is.
EXTREME DAVE: Deon’t yeou kneow any Dives?
BEATTIE: Er, I know a Clod? Ooh, is he here again too?
CLAUDE: (OFF) Not yet!
TECHY DAVE: Whae are you, by the way? No’ another dafty?
BEATTIE: Oh, gosh, yes, no: I’m Beattie, Beattie Snaw-Whit.
GALLUS DAVE: Snaw whit?
BEATTIE: Yes, indeed.
TECHY DAVE: Eh?
DOODLE DAVE: Snaw-Whit as in Kingslih Snawit?
BEATTIE: You’ve heard of Papa!
GALLUS DAVE: Ahem. Snaw-Whit as in Shirley MacQueen-Snoo-Whhaite?
BEATTIE: You’ve heard of her too.
DAVINA: Commiserations, quean.

SCENE 29.
SOUND: SHUFFLING, STOMACH GURGLE, ECHO
KING: Goood afternooon, me dear. ‘Ave yoou ‘eard owt from ar Beeattih?
QUEEN: Whae?
KING: Dauughter: wahde of frehme, built foh coomfort, not foh speed.
QUEEN: Yes, yes, of course; I mean she’s well on her way.
KING: Goood, goood. Thank yoou, me dear. Still busih, Ah see?
QUEEN: Very.
KING: Rahght, rahght. Ah’ll troondle off.
QUEEN: Most thoughtful.

SCENE 30.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, CROCKERY AND CUTLERY CLATTER, GROUP MUNCHING, SLURPING
BEATTIE: It’s really most kind of you to offer, and I am open to all development op-por-tunt-ities, but you see I’m learning to be a fem-inim-ist.
TECHY DAVE: Daein’ you a favour, like. We ha’e nae need fur a hoosekeeper.
BEATTIE: Hay neigh furry horse what, sorry?
WEE DAVE: Remember what the old woman said!
GALLUS DAVE: Whit’s ‘at?
WEE DAVE: About the property!
DAVINA: He means prawphecy.
DOODLE DAVE: Ah dohn’t remember owt abowt ‘lass.
WEE DAVE: (LOW) You were at the cas—indisposed.
BEATTIE: Well, horses settles it. And where will you all be?
WOODEN DAVE: We goes to ar office, miss.
SOUND: WINDOW CREAKS OPEN
DAVINA: Behawld.
BEATTIE: The shed?
GALLUS DAVE: Aye, well, the—ahem—converted ootbuilding.
BEATTIE: Beyond the shed?
TECHY DAVE: Naw, that’s et.
BEATTIE: Oh, er, how lovely. Rustic.
WOODEN DAVE: Ain’t nuffin’ rusted.
BEATTIE: What are all those odd plants?
EXTREME DAVE: Let us introdeuce yeou teo the spide.
SOUND: BOOTS CLUMP, DOOR SMACKS, BUSTLE
GALLUS DAVE: (LOW) Techy Dave! While they’re gettin’ agricultural, m’on and check yon mirror.

SCENE 31.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, STEEL HEELS STRIDE, NEEDLES CLICK
QUEEN: Maud, make yourself scarce.
MAUD: A what, madam?
QUEEN: Away with ye!
SOUND: NEEDLES CLACK, FABRIC CRUMPLES
MAUD: Oh, sorry, thought this was one of your continental drinks.
SOUND: DOOR CLUNKS SHUT, FINGERNAIL TAPS ON METAL
QUEEN: Awake, you smoke-tarnished bottle bottom!
SOUND: GLINGLE
QUEEN (CONT’D): Mirror, mirror, on the wall; who is the fairest of all?
MIRROR: Pure Snow White of course, your grace; for she’s nae warts upon her face—
GALLUS DAVE: (V.O.) Techy Dave!
TECHY DAVE: (V.O.) Oan et!
SOUND: MINIATURE RATCHET
QUEEN: —Whit?! You’d better hope I didnae hear you right!
MIRROR: Your Smart-iGlass220 requires a vocabul—mystic power update; please select: delay or wait.
QUEEN: Ma airse; yer no’ delayin’ me and Ah’m no’ waitin’ neither! Piece ae nonsense!
MIRROR: Your Smart-iGlass220 is shutting down; please use this time to…girn and frown. (PAUSE) Fondle your crown?
SOUND: FRANTIC RATCHETING
TECHY DAVE: (V.O.) Shite, shite.
QUEEN: (CLOSE) Whit?!
MIRROR: Er, burn your gown?
QUEEN: Not a chance in hell, ya half-baked bit ae tin foil.
SOUND: THUD, WALLOP, CRASH

SCENE 32.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, ASSORTED BOOTS SHUFFLE
GALLUS DAVE: Are ye absolutely clear, hen?
BEATTIE: Oh, yes, Gallows Dave: I’m not to let anyone in.
GALLUS DAVE: Absolutely naewan?
BEATTIE: Quite clear.
GALLUS DAVE: Guid. We’re oaffski.
BEATTIE: Dave?
ALL DAVES: (OFF) Aye-yes-yep-squeak-yeh.
GALLUS DAVE: Dinnae be distractin’ yersel’.
BEATTIE: No, no, just, when you’re all at your office, what do you…do?
GALLUS DAVE: We’re, er, makers – makers an’ fixers.
WEE DAVE: Yeh, we make stuff. I do the wee finnicky bits.
DOODLE DAVE: Ah doo ‘desahns.
WOODEN DAVE: Crea’ive engineerin’. Oi builds what needs buildin’. Ou’ a wood.
TECHY DAVE: Devices fur any purpose, restorin’s an’ upgrades. Ah dae the technical stuff. Wi’ a wee bit ae mischief.
DAVINA: I re-enchant theym, keepin’ wi’ the circle ae life, so.
EXTREME DAVE: I extrime tist thim.
BEATTIE: How very interesting! And Gallows Dave?
ALL DAVES EXCEPT GALLUS DAVE: Good question!
GALLUS DAVE: Aye, very funny. A circular economy needs somewan steerin’. See ye efter.
SOUND: ASSORTED BOOTS SHUFFLE

SCENE 33.
SOUND: FIRE BLAZES, STEEL HEELS STRIDE, FABRIC SWISHES, FINGERNAIL TAPS ON METAL
QUEEN: Are you operating, you silver-plated slop-pot?
SOUND: GLINGLE
MIRROR: Good day, InsertFriendlyAccountQueenShir. How may I be of service?
QUEEN: Don’t be so presumptuous.
MIRROR: Don’t keep me in suspense.
QUEEN: Mirror, mirror, on the wall; who is the fairest of all?
MIRROR: Snow White is alive and well. Over the hill where the Davids dwell.
QUEEN: White?! Whit? Whae are these Davids? I thought this rotten kingdom’s only resident vermin was that hackit auld hag. O’er the hill indeed. Tell me all!
MIRROR: Null. Empty field.
QUEEN: How can it be an empty field – you just said they live there!?
MIRROR: No dat—
GALLUS DAVE: (V.O.) Techy Dave! Whit’s that shiny shite daein’ noo? It’s supposed tae maintain the pretence ae bein’ helpful!
TECHY DAVE: (V.O.) Aye, aye, but un’er the disguise ae bein’ an…omnompittit—
GALLUS DAVE: (V.O.) Omnipotent? Dae ye no’ mean all-seein’?
TECHY DAVE: (V.O.) Aye, aye, whitever. So Ah gi’ed et a bit ae boffin pairsonality, like: ken the way smairt folks cannae thole wee pebble-heids?
GALLUS DAVE: (V.O.) Aye, ken indeed. Jist dinnae be gettin’ too creative wi’ the wurds, eh?
QUEEN: —Nothing?! How can you know nothing about them? Unacceptable! Why must I suffer the only omniscient vanity-vision with progressive memory loss?!
MIRROR: Perhaps you deleted it during one of your censoring rampages—I mean information consistency reviews.
QUEEN: I shall bludgeon ye tae a cludgie!
SOUND: SMASH, CRASH, CLONK
MIRROR: (WOBBLY) Er, I can tell you the, er, ‘repulsive vulture’ died.
QUEEN: I don’t care if the snaggle-toothed old tinker fell into a heap of horse’s entrails and slid all the way to the sea!
MIRROR: I can also report that InsertFriendlyLicenceeNameKingIdio extended the lease on the cottage.
QUEEN: That surprises me not; bilious blancmange of a man, always stymieing my valiant efforts. And that hare-brained huntsman has defied me again! As usual I’ve to sort this out myself. I need a disguise.
MIRROR: How about what you just said, with your usual eloquent prescience?
QUEEN: A blancmange?! (CLOSE) I shall have you ground down into marbles!
MIRROR: (THROTTLED) A tinker, Queen?
QUEEN: The insolence! Me: a tinker Queen! But that gives me an idea.
MIRROR: Glad to be of service.

SCENE 34.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, BG BIRDS CHIRP, FALTERING SWEEPING
BEATTIE: (V.O.) I don’t think I’m getting the knack of this properly. The dust just seems to move about.
SOUND: SWISH, TAMP
BEATTIE (CONT’D): (V.O.) I wonder why the Daves can’t invent a machine to sweep the—what did they call it?—stour.

SCENE 35.
SOUND: WORKSHOP BANGS, CLATTERS, RATTLES
GALLUS DAVE: Noo, regards the lassie: everybody mind and dinnae tell her aboot the cloackwurk hoosekeeper!
WEE DAVE: What if she asks more questions?
GALLUS DAVE: Och, get Techy Dave tae baffle her wi’ science. But naeb’dy’s tae say anything aboot the stoursweeper!
EXTREME DAVE: Whoy the conspiricy, mite?
GALLUS DAVE: Diz the lassie look like she kens whit tae dae wi’ hersel’ otherwise?
WOODEN DAVE: Oi fink ‘er ‘ead’s mide a fevvers.
DOODLE DAVE: Tha’s woon that’d meet troouble haalf-weh.
WEE DAVE: It’s the professity!
GALLUS DAVE: Aye, we’re scunnered onyways. So, may as well get doun tae wurk.
SOUND: MECHANICAL TAPS, RATTLES, HISSES, CLUNKS

SCENE 36.
SOUND: CLOCK TICKS, BG BIRDS CHIRP. SLOP, SPLASH, WET SWEEPING
BEATTIE: (V.O.) Oh, dearie doodle, that water hasn’t helped at all. The dust is just all sticky now. My bristles are clogged.
SOUND: DOOR KNOCKS
BEATTIE (CONT’D): Shush, beetles. I’ll leave you be if you’ll kindly get out of the way.
SOUND: DOOR KNOCKS
QUEEN: (OFF) Hello?
BEATTIE: Who’s that? Are you a beetle?
NARRATOR: (V.O., THROUGH TOFFEE) Really?! Comes of having a father who’s only half there, I suppose. Ha.
QUEEN: (OFF) Only me, an old pedlar-woman. Won’t you please let me in?
BEATTIE: Oh, right.
SOUND: DOOR BOLTS CLUNK
QUEEN: (GASP) It is you! Alive! (COUGH) So alive! Good day, Beatt—iful girl.
BEATTIE: Hullo, pedal lady.
QUEEN: See what pretty things I have for sale, so very cheap.
BEATTIE: They are quite pretty actually. I like those red laces.
QUEEN: Of course you do. A stylish choice, dearie; finest silk.
BEATTIE: Er, I probably shouldn’t—
QUEEN: Here, let me show you how they look on you.
SOUND: RUSTLE, YANK, TWANG
BEATTIE: Ooh, ee!
SOUND: YANK, CREAK
QUEEN: Now, let’s get a swatch at ye. Reight bonny, lass. Ha!
BEATTIE: (GASP)
QUEEN: Are ye well, there, dearie? You look a bit pale…and wobbly.
SOUND: WHUMP

Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves continues at Episode 3

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1 Comment »

  1. […] Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves continues at Episode 2… […]

    Pingback by Snaw-Whit and the Seven Daves: Episode 1/4 | Digital Ischemia — 22/12/2018 @ 16:57


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