“The Storyteller,” a short story about an storyteller who has stopped telling stories, and a young writer who wants to understand why.
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INT. HOME - DAY
The sun shines through the windows onto the ancient STORYTELLER bestowing wisdom to the YOUNG WRITER.
She hangs on his every word.
STORYTELLER
The story wants to be told. It is begging to be told. I can hear the characters now, screaming in my head!
YOUNG WRITER
Then why not write it, may I ask?
STORYTELLER
I couldn’t presume to, no more than I’d presume to write you.
He shakes his head nostalgically.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Some say that when when you write a character enough, they tell you who they are. But it’s the opposite: with a flick of a pen, you can rewrite their entire life story…
He laughs.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
And they _want _you to! They _want _to be changed!
He turns to the young writer, suddenly serious.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Have you ever asked God for help? Have you ever asked him to make you stronger? To help you overcome those obstacles ahead?
YOUNG WRITER
Every night.
STORYTELLER
(knowing smile)
Yes, indeed you do.
(beat)
They speak to me. They want things. I can give them whatever they want… But if I do…
He shakes his head.
YOUNG WRITER
I just… I just want to understand. Please! You used to write the most beautiful of stories, but then… What happened? Please!
(beat)
Make me understand…
The storyteller sighs.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Give me three concepts, and I will give you three stories. But!
(dramatic)
Only… Only if you are very sure. If you are to understand, you must first change, and change… Is an unpredictable thing. I can never know what story I’ll come up with until I start. You have been warned.
The young writer hesitates…
She resolves.
YOUNG WRITER
Three ideas? A man kills for ice cream… Someone tries to create utopia… A woman seeks vengeance for her sister’s death.
The storyteller considers.
STORYTELLER
Doable enough, I suppose.
(sigh)
If you are absolutely sure?
He sighs. Opens a blank book. Begins to write.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Ask, and ye shall receive. There once was a man. He wasn’t an old man, nor particularly young…
EXT. FAIR - DAY
ADAM, not old, not young, wades through the crowd, smiling, carefree.
He sees something on the ground.
ADAM
Cool!
He picks it up. Looks at it. In the glare of the sun, it’s impossible to see quite what the object is…
He stuffs it into an oversized pocket.
Strolls to WENDY, ice cream vendor.
ADAM
Ma’am, could I have some apple ice cream, please?
WENDY
Three dollars.
He searches through his pockets. Wendy’s smile fades. A couple of dollars. Couple of quarters. A penny.
He offers it, hoping.
WENDY (CONT’D)
I’m sorry, but you need at least three dollars.
He looks around hopelessly. Nobody offers to help.
Wendy sighs. Moves the cup of ice cream towards the trash.
ADAM
WAIT!
Wendy turns back to him. She drops the ice cream.
He’s pointing a GUN at her.
ADAM (CONT’D)
Give me my ice cream!
VOICE (O.C.)
Adam! What are you doing?
Adam starts. Turns towards the voice– BANG!
He turns back to his arm. The gun. Wendy. The blood.
He faints.
INT. HOME - DAY
The young writer is not pleased.
YOUNG WRITER
That made no sense. And apple ice cream?
STORYTELLER
You asked for stories. If you’re still unhappy after the other two, feel free to complain, as much as you’re able, but no more interruptions!
INT. HIGH-TECH OFFICE - DAY
JOHN sits behind the desk, speaking to investors.
JOHN
I want to return to The Garden of Eden. Pure bliss… Where all can be children forever… Where the insanity of the world can be left behind…
He walks over to a woman. It’s hard to make out her features…
JOHN (CONT’D)
And today, gentlemen, it has begun! We have altered adult minds–minds like those belonging to Eve, here–
He chuckles at her name. Holds up her hand to show off her bracelet, engraved: “EVE. Eden, Inc.”
JOHN (CONT’D)
Back to their child-like states. Our robots…
He indicates robots standing behind Eve.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Our robots are their parents. Their guides. Eve is one of two. I have changed the world, gentlemen. Nothing will ever be the same.
EXT. FAIR - DAY
The woman–DIANA–rushes up to Wendy, but it’s too late.
Diana takes the man’s gun. BANG! He’s dead.
She searches him. A bracelet. “ADAM. Eden, Inc.”
She looks up. Two robots approach.
DIANA
Take me to your boss.
INT. HIGH-TECH OFFICE - DAY
John COWERS in the corner, the muzzle of the gun pointing up his chin.
JOHN
Just the two! Just Adam and Eve!
WOMAN
Then where is Eve?
INT. HIGH-TECH OFFICE - LATER
John lies on the ground, a BULLET HOLE through his head.
INT. HOME - DAY
The storyteller lifts his pen from the paper.
YOUNG WRITER
And? What about Eve? This is ridiculous! Why was there a gun lying around–
STORYTELLER
Because I wrote it. Do you not see?
(considers)
I suppose not. Very well. I will change you. I will make you understand, if only briefly…
The storyteller turns back to the paper. Scribbles something.
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
Do you not feel it? Your life changing around you?
YOUNG WRITER
What do you mean?
Feet pound up the stairs.
The door slams open. It’s Diana!
STORYTELLER (CONT’D)
You’re Eve.
Diana shoots. The young writer–EVE–falls to the ground.
The storyteller closes the book.
BLACK.