Freddy’s dead – Final Nightmare
A CRAZED LUNATIC
suddenly SCREAMING into the lens with desperation. Dark circles under bloodshot eyes, hair matted with sweat. A guy not having a good day. WE PULL BACK TO REVEAL:
The man is tightly bound in a regulation straight-jacket in a tiny, claustrophobic holding cell. We can now tell that the image is in BLACK AND WHITE. We continue PULLING BACK
INT. FOSTER HOME – TV ROOM – NIGHT
Gina sits on the couch with a stark white blanket on her lap, watching a b&w 1940’s potboiler with something less than enthusiasm. Wesley appears in the doorway, checking out the source of the screaming. He looks at Gina, who tosses the blanket aside and rises, frowning. The lunatic on television continues his blood-curdling SHRIEKS.
GINA Nice movie, huh? And I came in here to mellow out.
She smiles at Wes as she exits.
GINA (cont’d) It’s all yours.
Wesley murmurs a goodnight, then looks back at the screen:
ON THE TV
Some orderlies enter the lunatic’s cell and attempt to sedate him as he thrashes violently, SCREAMING bloody murder. It is gritty and awful but somehow riveting.
WESLEY
moves to the couch, clearly mesmerized by the scene. He curls up, absently pulling the white blanket around him as he watches:
ON THE TV
The orderlies in the movie manage to get the needle into their patient, who MOANS and SOBS pathetically.
ORDERLY ON TV Relax, will ya, buddy? Everything’s gonna be just swell.
The second orderly leans on a wall and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his scrubs. (He bears a suspicious resemblance to ROBERT ENGLUND.)
WESLEY
vaguely tenses at this and absently pulls the blanket more tightly around him to compensate, like a cocoon.
ON THE TV
The second orderly smiles.
SECOND ORDERLY Yeah, mac. You’ve just had a hard day, that’s all.
The orderly produces a pack of matches. He goes to the lunatic on the cot, and LIGHTS the match off the guy’s forehead. As the match FLARES, the lunatic SCREAMS.
CLOSE ON WESLEY
he shuts his eyes tensely as the SOUND is magnified, becoming a sudden ROAR that fills the room.
Wesley blinks his eyes open, looks around from his blanket cocoon. Whatever that last sound was, it did NOT come from the TV.
Beads of sweat line his upper lip as he nervously glances about the room. It remains quiet, serene. Deciding it was his imagination reacting to the scene on TV, Wesley nestles back on the couch, laying down now as the CAMERA MOVES TO REVEAL
The carpet at the edge of the room is bunched up as though the walls of the room itself have budged a few inches inward.
BACK ON THE TV the second orderly lights his cigarette as he hands the pack to the first. They both look down at the madman as they savor their cigarettes.
ORDERLY ON TV You heard the man, Wesley. Just relax. Have a smoke with us.
Wesley’s brow furrows, reacting to the coincidence. Then he stiffens as the two orderlies in the movie begin to hold the lit cigarettes over the lunatic’s face
SECOND ORDERLY Yeah, Wesley. Have a smoke.
OUR Wesley has seen about enough of this movie. He starts to get up
WESLEY Fuck this.
but finds that he can’t move. The white blanket around him restraining him tightly like the straight-jacket on TV. He squirms and struggles.
WESLEY (cont’d) Hey.
He struggles harder now, but to no avail. He’s wrapped tight, like a cigarette.
ON THE TV the two orderlies torment the straight-jacketed lunatic, poking his face with their lit cigarettes. As the lunatic SCREAMS, the screams become magnified, again becoming that loud, deafening ROAR we heard before. Wesley squirms in his blanket/ straight-jacket, he jerks his head around, SEEING with each of the man’s SCREAMS, the walls of the room SHUDDER INWARD and
Wesley’s EYES WIDEN with horror as he realizes not only is he TRAPPED like a sardine in his stark white blanket, but the walls of the room are starting to CLOSE IN on him. He SPINS back to the TV set, where:
The first orderly is now looking AT US. Wesley REACTS as he notices something familiar about the man’s face.
FIRST ORDERLY Relax, Wesley.
WESLEY Dad?
The second orderly BOLTS into view. He has become Freddy Krueger.
FREDDY Yeah, Wesley. Everything’s gonna be great! Just have a smoke on us!
As they hold their smokes out TOWARD US, their arms PROTRUDE FROM THE TV SET with their lit cigarettes.
Wesley SCREAMS and jerks his head away from TV and he HITS the floor with an ugly THUMP. The wind knocked out of him. He rolls. The couch is GONE.
As he squirms and struggles to escape his white cocoon, the frightened boy looks around and sees that everything in the room – furniture, carpet, TV, even the door – are all gone, leaving just the white walls SLOWLY CLOSING IN ON HIM.
Then we see that on the floor all around Wesley are long, cylindrical white objects. Clearly, they resemble GIANT CIGARETTES, and Wesley – wrapped neck-to-toe in his white blanket cocoon – looks just like one of them.
He continues to squirm and SCREAM as the walls CLOSE IN from all sides — closer — CLOSER — pushing the long white things toward him, around him, bunching them together until they are in a tight cluster, as the room CRUNCHES IN TIGHTLY, blocking whatever light source there is, until all Wesley can do is SCREAM one last time, and
The screen goes BLACK.
After a few beats, we hear a huge, deafening RIPPING SOUND, and a new LIGHT SOURCE appears as Wesley looks up, eyes wide with unspeakable horror as the giant, scarred face of FREDDY looms over him, grinning, and we:
INT. FOSTER HOME – TV ROOM
The room is back to normal, but not the occupant. Freddy Krueger now stands here alone. He has just peeled the wrapper off a pack of cigarettes of which Wesley has become one.
FREDDY Didn’t Daddy ever tell you what the Surgeon General says…?
Krueger reaches in and pulls the tiny Wesley out of the pack. As before, Wesley is immobile, helpless. Freddy holds him between two fingers.
FREDDY (cont’d) Smoking’s bad for your health!
Freddy looks around, as if searching for something, then beams as he reaches into the air and…
FREDDY (cont’d) Ah! A match made in heaven!
He produces a puny version of WESLEY’S FATHER In one hand. His body is straight and rigid, like a match stick.
Freddy places his thumb on the stiff man’s head, and flicks his thumbnail, causing the man’s skull to BURST INTO FLAME, an evil grin spanning Wesley’s Father’s face.
He brings the Father-Match to what would be Wesley’s tiny feet, and lights the end.
VERY CLOSE ON FREDDY’S HAND
Wesley SCREAMS as Freddy tosses the FATHER-MATCH and brings the teenager’s little head up to his fire-scarred lips.
The boy is enveloped by the massive cracked opening as Freddy takes a huge drag off of Wesley’s head. Where his feet should be, the tip of the Wesley-Cig GLOWS RED, causing Wesley to SCREAM with supernatural pain. Smoke billows from Freddy’s nose and mouth. He savors it.
FREDDY (cont’d) Ahhhh! Now we’re smokin’!
He CACKLES horribly as he continues to suck on the Wesley- Cig. With each puff, Wesley’s white-wrapped body becomes slat-black ash.
FREDDY (cont’d) What’s your sign, Wesley? It wouldn’t be Cancer, would it?
In between his demonic CACKLES, Freddy DRAGS on the Wesley- Cig, each puff turning more of Wesley into ash until all but his head is black and charred. Freddy holds the Wesley-Cig out, poised to tap the ashes loose.
FREDDY (cont’d) Now say the secret word and you know what you’ll win…
WESLEY Go to hell!
Freddy grins.
FREDDY Right…
And he taps the Wesley-cig with his finger. The ashes immediately fall, sifting in the air as Wesley’s head – charred and black at the neck where it’s been separated – falls loose. Wesley SCREAMS.
WESLEY Noooooooo!
and his severed head falls and falls and falls.
INT. FOSTER HOME – TV ROOM – THE NEXT DAY
WE START on WESLEY’S BODY. Eyes closed, head normal and everything from the neck down charred mass of burnt torso, shriveled limbs, all wrapped in the scorched blanket. ZIP. A body bag hides this ghastly image from us as we PULL BACK.
A FIRE MARSHALL and a COP are talking at the doorway in the background. The CORONER is here, a world weary seen-it-all older guy, with his nervous ASSISTANT who’s never seen anything like this. They whisper their conversation as they lift the body bag onto a stretcher.
ASSISTANT I don’t get it. The couch is barely scorched. And how can he burn from just the neck down?
CORONER It happens.
ASSISTANT It happens? That’s your explanation?
CORONER I’ve seen worse.
We FOLLOW them as they push the stretcher towards the doorway.
ASSISTANT What? What worse?
CORONER Never mind.
Our shot STOPS at the doorway with the fire Marshall and cop while the wigged-out assistant’s voice trails off outside.
ASSISTANT No. I wanna know. Really. What could be worse than…
FIRE MARSHALL You know what the gossip rags are going to say? Spontaneous human combustion.
COP What’s that?
FIRE MARSHALL That’s where bodies are supposed to go up in smoke for no reason. It’s all psychic bullshit. What really happened is called the candle effect. A tiny fire gets started, usually from a cigarette. It slowly smolders through the blanket and clothes until the skin starts to actually bake. The body fat begins to melt and liquefy, fueling the fire like a slow burning candle. It takes hours, but it’s real.
