A wedding reception well under way - full of laughter, frivolity and dancing... Exhaustion is evident on the faces of the wedding party, and inebriation on the guests. SHERYL-LEE, a late-20s blushing bride in an elaborate white dress, makes her way towards the bridal table. She reaches for a glass of water.
Beneath a flawless mask of make-up her weariness begins to show. TILLY, the Maid of Honour, grabs her from behind, intercepting her quest, and instead hands her a glass of champagne.
TILLY (giggling): Don't be a pussy Sheryl-lee! Do you think Timmy wants you sober for the night you finally get to do it?!
Tilly sticks out her tongue and playfully elbows Sheryl-lee in the ribs. Sheryl-lee laughs but it takes effort.
SHERYL-LEE: Shut up!
She takes the champagne to avoid an argument. Perhaps the alcohol could dim the ache of her feet She finds her groom amongst the many faces of family and friends, TIMOTHY (handsome - bookish, 30yrs), his face awash with the joy of the day. He is slow dancing with an elderly woman, his mother.
He meets Sheryl-lee's gaze from across the room and holds it. A genuine smile reaches his eyes and she can't help but return it. He whispers something into his mother's ear and she reluctantly pulls away so he can motion his bride over.
Sheryl-lee finishes the champagne and pulls free of her stilettos. Leaving them and the empty flute on her table, she manages her way through the dancing crowd.
A moment of blinding whiteness fills the world with emptiness.
Sheryl-lee missteps only for a moment before continuing. The flash so brief it could have been imagined. A few nervous laughs come from the guests but the incident is quickly overlooked. The crowd parts to let the bride find her way across the dance floor.
Sheryl-lee finds the arms of her groom as the music dips into a slow romance.
SHERYL-LEE: My husband.
TIMOTHY: My beautiful wife.
She falls against his chest, suddenly overcome with weakness. Perhaps she shouldn't have drank that champagne so quickly? Her face flushes and she closes her eyes trying to reign in the sickly feeling that embraces her. She is lulled by the slow gentle movements of her husband's dance.
Timothy fumbles a step, jerking her into the present. Sheryl-lee looks up at him - his face flushed red. He looks down at her, his eyebrows knitted in concern.
TIMOTHY: Babe, are you okay?
She frowns, the question taken from her lips. She watches as his face colours further - a huge contrast with the crisp white shirt he wore. The veins in his forehead become visible, as too the marbling rising from his collar.
SHERYL-LEE: What's wrong?
Sheryl-lee stumbles away from her husband, grasping for the nearest chair. All around her guests are fumbling for seats or collapsing to the floor - their skin mottling to a bruised purple and green.
Timothy stumbles towards her. She grabs his hand and pulls him outside...
All around the picturesque wedding setting bodies litter the ground - swollen and decomposing. Some twitch leaking green and brown fluids. ADAM, the best man, has collapsed into a settee, his discoloured fluids staining the white table cloth.
SHERYL-LEE (mumbling): We're going to lose our deposit.
Sheryl-lee stops, drops Timothy's hand and sucks in a shuddering breath. Behind her, Timothy collapses. She turns to him - his face bloating and purple. He has swollen to twice his size and his three piece suit is stained and wet under the strain. She glances down at her own attire - her once white dress now a filthy remnant of its previous beauty, her decomposing fluids ruining her day.
TIMOTHY (moaning): Sherrryyyllll-llleeeeee...
His arm stretches out to her and he groans.
SHERYL-LEE: Babe, I'm hungry.
She stumbles, collapsing to the ground. Her body twitches in the throes of death. And finally - is still.
EXT. MANICURED GARDEN RECEPTION - CONT'D
A bird's eye view of a wedding party - a mix of glamour and decomposition, wiped out so fast some guests are still seated leaning against one another. Others in piles on the dance floor never understanding what had come over them. Wet decay has been replaced with dried mummification. Weeks should have passed before this sort of decomposition was evident.
The bride and groom, recognisable only by their stained attire, lay embraced.
Restless in death Sheryl-lee twitches, life suddenly returning.
Sheryl-lee finds the arms of her groom as the music dips into a slow romance.
SHERYL-LEE: My husband.
TIMOTHY: My beautiful wife.
She falls against his chest, suddenly overcome with weakness. Perhaps she shouldn't have drank that champagne so quickly? Her face flushes and she closes her eyes trying to reign in the sickly feeling that embraces her. She is lulled by the slow gentle movements of her husband's dance.
Timothy fumbles a step, jerking her into the present. Sheryl-lee looks up at him - his face flushed red. He looks down at her, his eyebrows knitted in concern.
TIMOTHY: Babe, are you okay?
She frowns, the question taken from her lips. She watches as his face colours further - a huge contrast with the crisp white shirt he wore. The veins in his forehead become visible, as too the marbling rising from his collar.
SHERYL-LEE: What's wrong?
Sheryl-lee stumbles away from her husband, grasping for the nearest chair. All around her guests are fumbling for seats or collapsing to the floor - their skin mottling to a bruised purple and green.
Timothy stumbles towards her. She grabs his hand and pulls him outside...
All around the picturesque wedding setting bodies litter the ground - swollen and decomposing. Some twitch leaking green and brown fluids. ADAM, the best man, has collapsed into a settee, his discoloured fluids staining the white table cloth.
SHERYL-LEE (mumbling): We're going to lose our deposit.
Sheryl-lee stops, drops Timothy's hand and sucks in a shuddering breath. Behind her, Timothy collapses. She turns to him - his face bloating and purple. He has swollen to twice his size and his three piece suit is stained and wet under the strain. She glances down at her own attire - her once white dress now a filthy remnant of its previous beauty, her decomposing fluids ruining her day.
TIMOTHY (moaning): Sherrryyyllll-llleeeeee...
His arm stretches out to her and he groans.
SHERYL-LEE: Babe, I'm hungry.
She stumbles, collapsing to the ground. Her body twitches in the throes of death. And finally - is still.
EXT. MANICURED GARDEN RECEPTION - CONT'D
A bird's eye view of a wedding party - a mix of glamour and decomposition, wiped out so fast some guests are still seated leaning against one another. Others in piles on the dance floor never understanding what had come over them. Wet decay has been replaced with dried mummification. Weeks should have passed before this sort of decomposition was evident.
The bride and groom, recognisable only by their stained attire, lay embraced.
Restless in death Sheryl-lee twitches, life suddenly returning.
END.
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