Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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Clerk: Five aisles to the left through that end door, sir. Peter: Thank you. BIZ: FOOTSTEPS, AS ABOVE. FADE IN CLICKING OF DOG’S NAILS ON FLOOR, IN STEP WITH PETER. Peter: (on cue) What’s that noise, a dog? (footsteps and clicking stop: pause) Don't see any. (pause; footsteps and clicking resume) That sounds like a dog —a dog following me. Flooncalker: (anxiously, fading in) Are you hurt, sir? (footsteps and clicking stop) Peter: (sharply) Of course not! What’s the matter? Flooncalker: Why, that blood on the floor behind you, sir. There’s a trail of it where you’ve walked, and I thought— Peter: (amazed) Blood? BIZ: BRING UP BACKGROUND CROWD GRADUALLY, EXCITE- MENT MOUNTING. Floorwalker: See, sir, right where you walked! Peter: But I’m not bleeding; I’m not hurt! Flooncalker: Then— BIZ: CROWD UP FULLY, HOLD TO STRONG BACKGROUND. LOW GROWL. Peter: (tensely) What’s that? Flooncalker: A dog! Peter: But where? CROWD: EXCLAMATIONS AND MURMUR. “WHAT’S GOING ON?”, ETC. BIZ: SNARL. WOMAN’S SCREAM. CROWD: “WHAT’S THE MATTER?” “THAT WOMAN’S FAINT- ED!” “LOOK!!” “AGAINST THAT COUNTER! “WHERE?” “WHAT?” “LOOK, IT’S A DOG’S HEAD!” “OUTLINED AGAINST THE COUNTER!” “MAD DOG!” “IT’S A WOLF!!” Peter: (horrified) There's-onlv-one-fang!! CROWD: SCREAMS, SHOUTS, ETC. Flooncalker: (amazed) It’s vanished! Sir, I— (fading) Why, where did he go? MUSIC: “TRAUMEREI”—SCHUMANN. Peter: (His voice is quick and nervous throughout this scene) Well, Walter, what’s new ? Walter: Good brandy! —Nothing much Peter, I hear there was some sort of a disturbance— Peter: (interrupting) Yes, I heard about that; foolish story. Walter : I agree, what would a wolf be doing— Peter: (interrupting) Certainly; mass hysteria. Walter: Man, this chair is comfortable, (pause) Strange lighting you have here, Peter. All the light’s in the center of the room, and the corners are black as pitch. Peter: Yes, I had it specially designed; the whole apartment's done in the same style. --] tge Mine -----------

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Peter: (despairing) We’re too heavy—if it were only one of us—! (abrupt pause) John: (incredulous, then fearful)—Peter! Don’t hit me—I'll fall! (sharp with fear) Peter!! Peter: (snarling tensely) You’re a magician—disappear! BIZ: THUD OF BLOW, THEN THUD OF FALLING BODY. FIGHT- ING AND SNARLS OF PACK OVER JOHN; HIS CRIES, MUFFLED. FADE IN HORSE AND SLEIGH BELLS, THEN FADE TO: MUSIC: AGITATO FROM “PRELUDE IN C SHARP MINOR”— RACHMANINOFF; FADE. Peter: (on cue) . . . and then the sleigh hit a rock and John was gone. It was terrible. The pack was on him before he could move. He screamed once . . . Walter: It’s horrible to think of, Peter, even here in New York, in this modern apartment of yours. Peter: It’ll be a long time before I forget it. (pause) Why not stay a while longer, Walter? Walter: Sorry, Peter, but I’ve got to get down to work. I go on at one. Peter: (laughing) One in the morning! What an hour to go to work! (off mike) Here’s your coat. Walter: Thanks, (slightly off mike) What’s this, Peter? A social lock on the door? Peter: (quickly) Yes,—er—I keep some valuable Chinese jades here. Walter: (lightly) Oh! Well, see you later, Peter, (off mike) ’night! Peter : Good night, Walter. BIZ: DOOR CLOSES. FOOTSTEPS ACROSS FLOOR PETER HUMS. Peter: (to himself) Nearly midnight. Guess it’s me for lied, (pause) Bet- ter take a book, in case I can’t sleep, (hums) Where’s that switch? Ah! BIZ: SNAP OF LIGHT SWITCH. THEN, BACKGROUND, PLAC- ING BOOK ON TABLE, DROPPING STUDS ON DRESSER, ETC. Peter: (humming continues; then, on cue) Now where’s that button?—Hmm, that mirror’s awfully hazy, guess it needs resilvering.—There! Thought I’d never get it unbuttoned. Too bad I— John: (interrupting, off mike) Peter! Peter: (startled) Who said that? Was that John’s voice? John: (sternly, closer) Peter! Peter: (awed voice, fast, jerky) : That can’t be John! John’s dead!! Who are you ? Where are you ? John: (very gravely, on mike) Here. Peter, here in the mirror! Peter: (aghast) John!! John’s head! John: I’ve come back to you, Peter! Peter: (desperately) That mirror! —Got to smash it! —The book'll do it!! BIZ: CRASH OF MIRROR BREAKING. MUSIC: WILD, STORMY: FADE TO: BIZ: FOOTSTEPS ACROSS TILE FLOOR. LOW BACKGROUND, DEPARTMENT STORE. Peter: Can you tell me where the Sporting Department is? --- = page Figh t=- ■■■

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Walter : It gives a beautiful, weird effect. Peter: I’ve had—(pause, then explosively) No!! BIZ: CRASH OF HEAVY LIQUOR GLASS. Walter: (surprised) Why, you’ve dropped your glass! Peter! What are you staring at? Peter: (fearful) There—in the corner! It’s—no, it can’t be! —The door’s locked! BIZ: CRASH OF UPSET TABLE AND GLASSWARE. Walter: (excited) Where arc you going, Peter? BIZ: RUNNING, THEN SLAMMING OF DOOR AND SNAP OF LOCK. Walter: What’s the matter? Tell me, Peter! Unlock the door! (HAMMER- ING ON DOOR) Let me in, Peter. You can trust me! BIZ: GROWL, OFF MIKE. John: (off mike, gravely) I’ve come back to you, Peter! Peter: (off: high, in horror) John! The wolf! BIZ : OFF MIKE: SNARLING OF WOLF. PETER SCREAMS ONCE. SNARLING STOPS. ON MIKE: HAMMERING ON DOOR. Walter: (very agitated) Peter, what's happened? BIZ: QUICK FOOTSTEPS; PHONE PICKED OFF HOOK. Walter : Police Headquarters—and hurry. MUSIC: “KAMENNOI OSTROW”—RUBINSTEIN. Officer: (thick, Irish brogue) Th’ door’s locked. Yer roight about that, anyhow. Walter: It’s just as I told you, officer. He ran in and locked the door, and— Officer: I heard yez the first time. Stand aside! I’ll be after breakin’ it down—When I git me gun out—There! BIZ: CRASH OF DOOR BEING BROKEN DOWN. Officer : (in awed voice) Bejabbers! Walter: (same) Peter! Officer: There ain’t nobody in here—alive. Walter: And the door was locked from the inside— Officer: Thin what kilt him? Walter : I heard a dog— Officer: Well, there ain’t none here now; I suppose he just walked out through the wall? Walter: But Peter’s throat? Officer: Ay, yer roight alxmt that. His throat looks as if it had been torn open by a dog. Walter: A dog with only one fang— Officer: I don’t understand it—(fading) The door an’ windows locked on th’ inside, and still— MUSIC: “LARGO”—HANDEL. Announcer: We have brought you the third in our new series, “Unexplained Deaths”. Tonight’s story was entitled “Fang of the Wolf”. The next story of this series will be brought to you one week from tonight over these same stations. This is the National Broadcasting Company. ------------------ ■ - i age Ten •.-- . . =