Int: Location unknown, the Committee conference chamber
Members of the Committee and various invited guests from other organisations are gathered around the conference table. STERN SPICE is speaking on the phone with wait sorry never mind. Continue reading
Int: The Mayor’s Munch House, command central
THE MAYOR is sitting at a desk, speaking on the phone with an unheard, unknown individual. PAULETTE is sitting to his left, at a makeup table in the corner of the room. Her face is turned away from the camera. Her eyepatch is off and we can vaguely see a strange green glow in the mirror, coming from the right side of her face. To THE MAYOR’s right, there is a scrying pool of greenish, magical water.
Right, well, I is gonna have ta thank yez once again, pardner! This was a really great idea. The auditing of the Gastronomy Institute is the perfect opportunity to step up one’s ambitions – with that slippery cactus ADAMSON busy, the Intensifying Heart Club is in an unusually vulnerable position. Yes, they have been working out real good! They sure done did the job. Didn’t they, PAULETTE?? Continue reading
On-screen text: Previously on Intensifying Hearts & Dreams…
And we are back, after a shocking midseason finale and an extended election break! While the TV audience is still stuck in FRANK‘s recently vacated, green-grey dream, let’s take a look at what’s been going on in the story proper. Continue reading
Int: Swirling dreamscape
We are inside FRANK‘s green-grey dream. FRANK himself is floating slightly above the ground, spinning slowly in a circle. His face is fixed in a sadistic grin and never moves during the entire sequence, even when he is speaking.
Hode, humb, middle my sums…
“The BOF TV” logo is shown, followed by the following message:
“Thank you for purchasing this anniversary DVD edition of the first season of the show, available for the first time in unabridged form! Enjoy audio commentary by the stars and creators of this classic telenovela!” Continue reading
Int: The Crystal Palace, tickle chamber
PENELOPE is sitting at the lab table reading documents pertaining to marine biology, a bucket of multicoloured, gyrating tentacles by her side. She furrows her brow in contemplation of these difficult matters. LEO enters from the Yellow Gardens with a tray of new samples, which wriggle about sleepily. They have the build of large shrimp, but the texture of salmon and each has a beak, a horn and a pair of vestigal wings.
Latest haul from PROFESSOR SPECTRE. Do you have time to take a look at these?
Int: the Gastronomy Institute, seclusion chamber.
FRANK is in the room, alone. He is sitting in a special chair, his limp frame propped up by various wires and contraptions. The chair sits inside a complex, oval MEDICAL POD that monitors his existence. FRANK’s mind is connected to gastronomical devices through a tube sticking out of his brain stem. His hands are bandaged, his skin is pale, and his eyes are completely white. He sings-
Ho hum, diddle and dumb –
Singing a soong in a hospital roongm –
Where is the future, where is the past? –
Have the vultures made off with my mystical staff? –
Staff in the sense of personnel, you see –
Not a magic cane that could delight you and me.
Int: the Intensifying Hearts Club & Leisure Centre, in the women’s bathroom.
The women of the town – SALINA the rooster, MARCIA the mental case, MONICA the lovestruck fool, PENELOPE the betrayed lover, MADAME MORGANNA the matriarch, EDITOR the complainer, and a number of unnamed ones – are gathered in the bathroom. All of the women except for MADAME MORGANNA are in full histrionic meltdown.
A new girl? A new girl in our town?
That’s right. A beautiful one, too.
PAULETTE…. Her name is.. PAULETTE!!?
It is, I’m afraid. She is PAULETTE, the new girl who just arrived to our town a few hours ago.
Int: Location unknown, the Committee Interrogation Chamber
A dark room with stone floor, a stone door in a stone wall, and a vast black nothingness ahead. DADDY and ANGÉL GABRIÉL are standing in what little light there is, looking out into nothing. ANGÉL is standing further back, by the door, fidgeting, clutching himself and looking extremely nervous. DADDY stands in front, cross-armed, with a steely expression full of disappointment and barely-suppressed indignation.
I don’t like this one bit, sir. I feel far from good.
No shit sherbet. This isn’t something meant to be liked in any way. And keep your voice down, everything we do or say is being recorded. Our very minds are being analysed, so keep your wits about you.
Int: The Gastronomy Institute, treatment room.
MARCIA is lying on an observation sofa. She is semi-catatonic, but her eyes are open. Her expression is tormented, lost. Streaks of mascara from her red eyes all the way to the floor – that is how much she has been crying. DR. ADAMSON is sitting in a chair by the desk. He is holding a large double scotch and cradling his tired head in his free hand.
Oy vey. Another week, another complete disaster. Will all our schemes be undone again?
Aaah… Gord loveeee phah…
I sure wish you weren’t so heartbroken and catatonic, MAR. You make even worse company than usual. Ah, women….