Nightmare on Elm Street
someone out of a dream!
NANCY If I can’t, then you all can relax, because it’ll just be a simple case of me being nuts.
GLEN I can save you the trouble. You’re nutty as a fruitcake. I love you anyway.
NANCY Good, then you won’t mind cold-cocking
this guy when I bring him out.
GLEN What!?
NANCY (simplicity itself)
You heard me. I grab him in the dream — you see me struggling so you wake me up. We both come out, you cold cock the fucker, and we got him. Clever, huh?
GLEN
You crazy? Hit him with what?
NANCY You’re a jock. You must have a baseball bat or something. Come to my window at midnight. And meanwhile…
GLEN (weakly) Meanwhile..?
NANCY Meanwhile whatever you do
don’t fall asleep. Midnight.
She hangs up. GLEN’s eyes bug out.
GLEN Holy shit! Midnight. Baseball bats and boogemen. Unfucking
real.
130. OMIT OMIT 130.
131. EXT. THE VALLEY AND HILLS. NIGHT. 131.
HIGH, WIDE SHOT. The moon is above the horizon. A cool wind slides a bank of white fog inland. The valley and its lights
stretch forever, an endless net of illumination and darkness. A coyote HOWLS on the dark hill.
132. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 132.
A palm frond scuttles across the center of the parking lot. LT THOMPSON arrives in an unmarked car.
COP (passing) Lieutenant Thompson — what you doing in at this time?
LT THOMPSON Can’t sleep, thought I’d come
break up the poker game.
The COP laughs and goes his way. THOMPSON’s smile evaporates.
133. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 133.
THOMPSON enters and checks the log. Nearby, SGT GARCIA pours coffee.
SERGEANT GARCIA If it was any more quiet we could hear owls farting.
LT THOMPSON Is quiet, isn’t it?
SERGEANT GARCIA (too casually) How’s your girl?
THOMPSON looks at the Desk sergeant a moment, then tosses down the log.
LT THOMPSON She’s sensible. She’ll sleep sooner or later.
134. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 134.
The neighborhood is utterly still, most of the homes already
dark. But not NANCY’s. Or GLEN’s.
ZOOM TO GLEN’S LIGHTED LIVING ROOM WINDOW.
135. INT. GLEN’S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 135.
GLEN’s father watches eleven o’clocks news, a dreary FILM CLIP (STOCK) of war and refugees in a far-away land.
MR LANTZ takes a pull on his Bud.
MR LANTZ You’d think they’d have some- thing ’bout the Lane kid hanging himself.
MRS LANTZ walks through the room, drying her hands on a dishtowel.
MRS LANTZ Maybe we’re all making more out of it than we should.
She heads upstairs. MR LANTZ pops the automatic tuner. CARSON blinks ON.
CARSON (TV) I wouldn’t touch that line with a ten foot pole.
ED MCMAHON and the AUDIENCE laugh in delight.
136. INT. GLEN’S HOUSE/UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR. NIGHT. 136.
MRS LANTZ comes along the upstairs hall and knocks gently at a closed door.
MRS LANTZ
Glen? you all right?
She puts her ear to the door and listens.
MRS LANTZ (CONTD) Glen honey?
No answer.
137. INT. GLEN’S ROOM. NIGHT. 137.
GLEN lies sprawled across the bed, long legs flung over the end, head not visible.
His mother enters. She looks at the boy, turns off the TV. Looks at him again.
From this angle she can see his head, earphones crammed over it rasping their tinny noise. But no movement from the kid at all. MRS LANTZ crosses and pokes him in the ribs. GLEN lurches up, arms windmilling.
GLEN Whuu?
He refocuses his eyes, takes off his earphones.
MRS LANTZ How can you listen to Carson and a record at the same time?
GLEN swings his legs over the edge of the bed and shakes his head
to clear the cobwebs.
GLEN Wasn’t listening to the tube, just watching. Miss Nude America’s supposed to be on tonight.
MRS LANTZ Well how you gonna hear what she says?
GLEN Who cares what she says?
The mother gives up.
MRS LANTZ You should get to sleep soon, Glen. It’s almost midnight. Goodness knows we’ve all had
enough of a time the last few days…
GLEN I will, Mom…in a while. You guys turning in?
MRS LANTZ Pretty soon.
His MOTHER sighs and goes out, closing the door behind her. GLEN flips the TV back on and glances at the clock.
138. INSERT OF CLOCK. It’s 11:42. 138.
139. TIGHT ON GLEN’s face. He clamps the earphones back on, and turns 139. the volume up high. The MUSIC is so loud we can hear it resonating inside his skull.
CAMERA MOVES PAST GLEN to his window, then ZOOMS through to:
140. EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY’S HOUSE. NIGHT. 140.
CONTINUE ZOOMING into the LIGHTED window of NANCY’s barred second floor bedroom and
CUT TO:
141. INT. NANCY’S ROOM. NIGHT 141.
CLOSE ON MARGE, weaving on the edge of NANCY’s bed, stroking
the girl’s hair. NANCY’s still something of a wreck, but less than MARGE.
MARGE We’ll go away, take a vacation. Get your hair colored nice, the way it was. No one will ever
know. (sniffs) This whole room smells of coffee, y’know?
She gathers up NANCY’s coffee cups and empty NoDoz boxes, leans down and kisses her.
MARGE (CONTD) It’s all over now, baby. The nightmare’s over. Please.
NANCY nods her head, half stubborn, half sadly. She can barely keep her eyes open now.
NANCY Okay.
She scrunches into her pillow. MARGE smiles haggardly and shuts off the light, taking the coffee pot with her as she leaves.
NANCY (CONTD)
Night-night.
