talks of truce, no weapons, one page only.
Among the farmers of that shire was Malcolm Wallace, a commoner
with his own lands. He had two sons: John and William.
(Malcolm and John are riding to MacAndrews)
Malcolm: I told you to stay.
William: Well, I finished my work. Where are we going?
Malcolm: MacAndrews. He was supposed to visit when the
gathering was over.
William: Can I come?
Malcolm: No.
now we got a truce.
This truce aint gonna last...
especially after Hickey
gets back.
Thats why youre here.
Whos Hickey?
Hickey
is Doyles right-hand man.
Hes a sweetheart.
Looks like somebody
carved him up for Sunday dinner.
Talks like this.
Forget it.
What about you?
You got a name?
Smith.
Smith what?
You got a first name?
John.
Thats a good one.
You on the run?
Where are you from?
Back east.
around the wolfs neck and crimps it in place, all
the while TALKING soothingly to the semi-conscious animal.
Anne Marie smiles at Erics tenderness and snaps some
photos.
??
??
With the collar in place and transmitter activated, Eric
backs away while the wolf tries to rouse itself from its
narcosis.
??
ERIC
(continuing)
Hes coming around fine.
??
ANNE MARIE
Be right back. I left my
camcorder
talk
about what you wrote.
Is that really
how you feel?
I dont know.
Maybe. Why?
Because thats the nicest thing
anyones ever written me.
It was?
Yes.
I love you, Chris...
like a brother.
- Were friends, right?
- For sure!
You pussy!
Shut up, Tim!
Dont you people have anything
better to do?!
God! Just leave
him alone!
You jerks!
Ill show you!
Ill show all of you!
This town
is full of losers
and Im
truce violations in Beirut, busing trouble in Boston.... NARRATION continues OVER -
NARRATOR
- in his time, Howard Beale had been a mandarin of television, the grand old man of news, with a HUT rating of 16 and a 28 audience share -
CAMERA MOVES IN to isolate Howard Beale, who is everything an anchorman should be - 58 years old silver-haired, magisterial, dignified to the point of divinity. NARRA