One Slightly Over Baked
One Slightly Over-Baked
Discovered: May 1, 2021
Tags: Script
JOS regurgitates his morning breakfast into an empty barrel by a hut, but only then, take notice of a figure sat under the shade in the doorway, watching the scene. It dons a handcrafted plague doctor’s mask and a black cloak. He is a bit taken aback by it but remains silent for fear of disturbing it.
CROW uses her medical pen and takes a sample from the remaining corpse. In the ashes, she notices a half-burnt journal, among other items of the victim’s effects. Dusting off the gray ash, she picks it up and flips open the cover: The Soon Facts and Accurates for Those Terribly Late and One Slightly Over-Baked by Lolly Graddipest.
Crow cannot believe it.
CROW
Josian (a beat). It’s her.
Jos turns to face Crow and notices the book. Crow turns the page and finds printed and centered a dedication:
To my dear Crow, who has finally come to share in the fun. Who shall now never forget the hilt of my quill, nor sunhat and moon boots at my lodgings lest you wish your story come to an abrupt end. Hurry up now, an adventure awaits my little beaky and one of us doesn’t have all day.
JOS
Oh (slowly coming to realization of what she mean). Shit.
PLAGUE DOCTOR
Shit’s roi’t.
This caught Jos by surprise, a bit started that it suddenly began to speak.
PLAGUE DOCTOR
Der’s ‘em propp’a witch, dat one. An’ I’d take a few thos’ steps back if yers fancies a livin’; a friend of ‘er’s not a friend of ours. We don’t take no kindly to witch-‘im-pa-tektiks (improperly pronounced sympathetics) and def’ly not offworld tresspass’rs.
The Plague Doctor pulls out from underneath her wooden chair a shotgun. Jos instinctually backs up with his hands raised.
JOS
Woah. Hey now. That’s not… necessary.
PLAGUE DOCTOR
Ye mark ‘em, sallies.
The Plague Doctor stands up.
PLAGUE DOCTOR (CONT’D)
Ye’s not welcome and ye, currently, is walkin’ on some pretty in-tepid waters (it takes a moment to look them over). ‘sem coat’ll fetch a pretty price, I reckon.
JOS
Ah yes (nervously). Garuuvian leather, pretty hard to find this one. I’d rather we keep it clean and, uh, holeless—(aside, through clenched teeth) Crow! I’d say it’s about time we start gettin’— (he motions “out-of-town” with his head)
PLAGUE DOCTOR (CONT’D)
Sounds ‘ike a plan (it says slowly with a grin).
The Plague Doctor cocks the gun.