ERNEST BLUMBERG is performing his clarinet solo to an
excited audience. It is his greatest work.
Arty shots of him playing, his fingers, the beautiful
He’s good, isn’t he?
Ernest builds up into a crescendo, and stops.
The audience applaud.
AT BRIDGE, ALEXANDER PERKINS LIES IN WAIT.
Thank you, thank you! It’s been a
pleasure to play for you!
We love you Ernest!
Haha, thank you, but no, I haven’t
the time! But I shall be here from
Wednesday to Friday, same time,
same place! Be there... or be
square! You’ve been a wonderful
audience, thank you.
He takes his music and leaves.
The water laps around the music stand.
He walks to the bridge.
Out jumps ALEXANDER
Get out of my way, commoner!
He tries to push past, but Alexander blocks all attempts.
Ernest? Don’t you remember me?
Ernest looks at him closely.
It’s me, Ernest! Alexander!
Oh! Yeah... you’re... that guy!
We performed together for 6
years! How can you-
They were a great six years!
Uh, yeah... I heard about you in a
report of successful solo
careers. Nice crowd you have.
Ernest smirks. We see them.
But, Ernest, old friend, I have a
proposition for you.
Oh, yes? Do tell.
I’d like to reform our band.
He storms past.
But we’d be brilliant together!
He pulls out the rocks.
No! And you still use those? I
should’ve dumped you the moment you
sold your drumkit. But no, I had
faith you knew what you were
doing... No wonder we stopped
He plays the rocks.
Examine how the echoic consonance
gives a sense of immersion, how it
could provide cross-rhythms to your
melody which distinctly lacks a
bass, see how-
Alexander. They’re ROCKS.
He turns, and leaves.
Alexander’s eagerness turns to fury.
I’ll get you! You don’t know the
power of the rock side!
He holds them up. An ethereal power emits itself from them.
The audience vanish.
Alexander cackles evilly, before vanishing also.
ERNEST walks down. He doesn’t notice that there is no
life. He whistles to himself.
Oh, I wonder how young Roger’s
violin lessons are going? I simply
must pay him a visit.
He walks up to Roger’s gate, then realises nobody is there.
Is so quiet...
He looks around. There is no life.
Along a road.
Down an alleyway.
There is nobody.
He runs across a football pitch for good measure.
He sits on the sofa, hugging his knees. He flicks through
several channels of static, completely alone.
He returns, having lost hope. The seats are empty.
He looks down. A note is written in the sand.
Ernest is appalled.
Alexander did this...
He looks determined.
He has to be stopped! He’s taken
away my audience! There’s nobody
left to listen to me!
He looks downheartened.
But what can I do?
He looks around. He looks at the clarinet. He looks
around. He looks back at the clarinet.
He plays like he’s never played before.
ALEXANDER is dragged back into existence.
I will, I will, ROCK Y-... what?
You’re good, better than I ever
thought of you, I’ll give you
that. But you’re no match for my
He plays more. Alexander falls back, covering his ears in
He holds up the rocks. Laser beams fly from them.
Ernest dodges them.
A fight/dodge scene ensues.
Ernest falls and the clarinet is on the other side of the
He considers the move, and makes a dive for the clarinet.
Well played! But you’re forgetting
A constant laser beam is emitted from the clarinet. It hits
Alexander in the chest, who falls and is obliterated. The
rocks fall onto the sand.
He goes over to the rocks, and sucks up the power from them
with the clarinet.
He blows a powerful note. Everyone appears.
That encore you asked for. Still
Much enthusiasm from the audience.
Ernest jumps in front of them, and plays a rock tune.
© Copyright 2016 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.
Book / Fantasy
Book / Fantasy
Book / Fantasy
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