The Hands of Goodna Cemetery

Based on True Accounts.

1. EXT. GOODNA CEMETERY – NIGHT

A battered P-plate car pulls up next to a large fenced-off cemetery. There are few street lights but the moon is full and high, bathing the cemetery with spooky shadows - it certainly doesn’t look like a nice place to be after dark.

There are large trees and neat gravesites but furthest from the road the trees become denser and the gravesites more tattered –paths less trodden.

DANNY (18) football superstar, and LOLA (17) wannabe cheerleader, climb out of the car, giggling.

Danny struts over to the passenger side and embraces Lola in a bear hug. Looking around, Lola is not impressed.

LOLA: I didn’t think you were for real, bringin’ me ‘ere.

DANNY: Are you kiddin’? It’s tradition.

He pokes her playfully but Lola pulls away, her arms wrapped around her own body. It’s not cold but something has chilled her.

DANNY (CONT’D): Come on bae it’ll be a laugh, an’ you’ll get to tell your squad about how I took ya “down to Goodna”.

LOLA (groaning): How romantic!

The headlights of a car round a bend and approach from a distance.

DANNY: Quick!

She gives in to him as he pulls her towards the fence where he lifts her over in one simple movement and with little effort he scales the fence himself.

He grabs her hand and together they flee deeper into the cemetery. Shadows seem to reach after them.

2. EXT – GOODNA CEMETERY – CONT’D

Lola’s giggles ring out through the night as Danny catches her in an embrace and backs her into a large tree. His hands are all over her.

DANNY: It’s said… (he begins nibbling her neck) …that this cemetery was used by the ol’ Woogaroo Asylum and there are hundreds of headstones identified only by numbers… The grave digger died before he could put up a plaque so all the names are lost.

She ducks out of his grasp.

DANNY (CONT’D): It’s them that haunt here at night, wandering ‘round, wonderin’ who they are.

LOLA: Haunted? For real?

She glances around, wondering… the trees becoming sinister and more claw like reaching long tendrils down towards the pair…

DANNY: Uh huh. Last weekend Jase covered his car in flour – like the ghost hunters said – and drove down Stuart Street, not even IN here. When he got home there were hundreds of fingerprints all over his car as if something had been clawing to get in… I swear, true story.

LOLA (laughing): He covered his car in flour?

DANNY: His mum was well pissed. Might be that ghosts don’t want no one to be here?

They hold hands, meandering down a twisting path. Danny’s other hand wanders over her body until…

DANNY (CONT’D): BOO!!!

He grabs her waist suddenly and she startles.

LOLA (laughing): Jerk…! Oh look.

Ahead, highlighted in the moonlight, they come across diminutive headstones, barely a foot tall, at least fifty in a neat semi-circle, and numbered – impersonal to the people they represented.

LOLA (CONT’D): That’s so sad…

She drops down onto her knees in the leaf litter. One of her hands runs over a headstone, her fingertips tracing the number.

LOLA (CONT’D): …to be forgotten… You won’t forget me like that? I’m not just another girl you bring down ‘ere?

DANNY: You bae, how could I forget you?

She smiles, content for now, as he leans down to kiss her. She allows it, his hands moving over her body – under her shirt, up the legs of her shorts. He crawls on top of her, resting her gently back on the ground and gyrating his groin against hers. She moans.

LOLA: Oh, Danny. Oh Danny! Ow Danny. Ow. DANNY!

As her moans turn to cries she scrambles away from him.

DANNY: What?!

He stands up, adjusting himself, miffed at the rejection.

LOLA: Something was pinching me.

She rubs her upper arm and he laughs at her.

LOLA (CONT’D): For real, it kills!

DANNY: Lemme look.

She moves over to him but the light is too poor to make anything out. He rubs her shoulders placating her instead. He kisses her ear.

DANNY: Don’t worry. (Whispering) I’ll protect you from the grabby ghosts.

LOLA: Maybe it’s them protecting me from you?

She sticks out her tongue and escapes down the path, deeper into the cemetery where the graves are more spaced out, more elegant and more run down.

DANNY (calls): You don’t need protecting from me bae. Well, maybe my… GRABBY HANDS!

He roars playfully and gives chase, following her hysterical giggles.

3. EXT. GOODNA CEMETERY – NIGHT

Danny and Lola are deep into each other, making out and rolling around in pine needles. Headstones loom over them throwing shadows across their bodies like disembodied clawed hands.

A headless weeping angel seems alive in the moonlight and Lola screams, spotting it in the gloom.

DANNY: Lola chill, don’t be weak.

He’s losing patience. He moves to grope her again but she swats him away.

LOLA: I’ve had enough Danny – I wanna leave.

DANNY: What’s that?

He motions to a patch of red raw scratches and fresh bruising down the side of her torso.

LOLA: I don’t know. I thought it was just the leaves and shit, but it’s creeping me out. We shouldn’t be here! I wanna go!

DANNY (sighing): Okay. Fine.

4. INT. CAR, GOODNA CEMETERY – NIGHT

Lola is sitting in the passenger seat rubbing her legs and fingering faint scratches.

DANNY: Jeez bae… (He takes on a spooky tone) Maaaaybe it was the ghoooosts—

LOLA: Don’t. Let’s just get outta here.

An amused grin crosses his face before he starts the car.

Nothing.

He tries it again, this time revving the engine, but it’s as if the car is stuck. It rears to move forward but has stuck fast.

Lola glares at Danny.

LOLA: That’s not funny—

She pauses.

DANNY: I’m not—

LOLA: Shush!

DANNY: Lo—

LOLA: SSHHHHH! Listen!

Outside something is scratching against the metal work of the car, pawing against it, as if to get in.

DANNY: What is that?

LOLA: Please can we just go?

DANNY: Lola, I’m trying!

He tries the car again. Nothing. It’s revving. It’s trying to move – almost as if the handbrake is on and it wants to go – but something is holding it back.

He sighs and flings the door open.

DANNY (CONT’D): I’ll check the—

Lola’s face contorts into a soundless scream. A disembodied arm clings to the open door – claws latched deep into the paintwork. Danny sees and jerks the door back closed.

DANNY (CONT’D): Whaaa—?

Lola is climbing up onto her seat – as if the hands might come through the floor of the car to get her. She’s pressed against the door but doesn’t trust the window so she backs against Danny. She’s crying, bordering on hysterical.

DANNY (CONT’D): It’s okay.

He slams the locks down on both doors and his arms come around her, his hand stroking the back of her head.

5. EXT. GOODNA CEMETERY – SUNRISE

The sun comes up on a car parked outside the cemetery. It could almost be a different place as the sun lifts away any sign of anything sinister within the graveyard and light fills the darkness.

6. EXT. SUBURBAN HOME – CONT’D

The P-plate car pulls up in a driveway and Lola jumps out before it’s even come to a halt. She’d exhausted – a sleepless night evident on her tired face. She slams the door and motions to lean in the open window. Before she gets there she is backing away in horror.

From in the car Danny looks concerned.

DANNY: Bae?

He climbs out and comes around to her. He stares at the car, fumbling for Lola’s hand as they both back away silently.

Deep within the paintwork are huge scratch marks that had almost made it to the handle…

SMASH FADE TO BLACK.

GLITTER GIRL

FADE IN:

1.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, BEDROOM - DAY

The bedroom is small and in disarray. Strewn over a double bed are piles of woman’s clothes of all colours and designs. Clearly the cupboards have been emptied and dumped on the bed.

To one side there is an old crumbling chest of drawers with a huge cracked mirror above it. Before the mirror sits a thin androgynous young man, DANIEL (17), staring hopelessly at his reflection. On his face are fading bruises and a fresh splatter of blood. He wears a dress that falls lifelessly down his chest making him appear waifish and masculine. He tugs half-heartedly at the straps.

Daniel turns away from the mirror and glares at the clothes on the bed. He jumps up, seizing armfuls of the clothing and sweeping them to the floor. He continues this until the bed is entirely clear… revealing a human shape hidden under the covers.

He pulls back the doona to reveal the recently deceased pale CORPSE OF HIS MOTHER. She is wearing a black dress that has been stabbed and mutilated around the torso area.

Daniel smiles at her. He kisses her forehead before proceeding to undress her.

2.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, KITCHEN - EVENING

Amongst mould and mountains of dishes, Daniel does his best to prepare a meal and set the table, not forgetting the most important thing: his father's bottle of Jack Daniels.

Daniel grins as he pulls the bottle down from the alcohol cabinet and rinses a glass. He places them both side by side on the table. He’s wearing the black dress he’d removed from his mother but it’s been tucked into a pair of jeans so it now resembled a shirt.

The microwave dings and he removes a ready meal. By the time he places the on the table, grabs and cleans a fork, his FATHER ambles into the kitchen.

Silently Father collapses into his prepared seat and cracks open the bottle of Jack Daniels, not even bothering with the glass.

FATHER

(irritated)

Where's your mother?

DANIEL

She had to go out.

Father pokes at the meal, making no attempt to eat it. Daniel watches him silently.

FATHER

Get out of here!

Before Daniel can leave, Father pushes the uneaten meal away and stands up. He wanders out of the room with the bottle in his hand.

Daniel clears the table and retreats back to the safety of his mother's room.

3.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

His Mother is staring up at him when he walks past her and returns to the vanity. She’s half uncovered, her limbs splayed.

Distracted, Daniel finds his mother’s makeup, making the effort to line his eyes in kohl, surround them with green and cover his lips in the brightest red he can find.

All the while he’s mumbling to himself (or to her) incoherently.

As if he’s spotted her disarray in the mirror, Daniel returns to his mother. He folds her arms gently across her chest, closes her mouth and caresses her eyes closed.

He pulls the doona up to her neck to cover all the unsightly stab wounds over her chest and stomach and rests her head on a pillow.

He kisses her forehead.

DANIEL

Be still Mother.

4.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, LOUNGE - NIGHT

Daniel slinks in the doorway watching his Father who is mumbling incoherently at the TV, clearly drunk.

He fetches another bottle of alcohol from the kitchen and carries it over to his father. His father takes the bottle, pushing the mostly empty one to the floor.

As he cracks it open he looks his son up and down, trying to focus on him.

FATHER

What the fuck are you doing home? You should be out making money!

Daniel's eyes narrow as he realises his father's mistake. His father grabs his arm, dragging him closer.

FATHER (CONT'D)

Daniel? What the fuck are you doing wearing your mother's stuff?

His father wrenches his son down so far he almost stumbles to the ground, but as the bottle smashes him hard across the head he goes down anyway.

FATHER (CONT'D)

I have fucking told you again and again not to do this shit!

Daniel scrambles up crawling in the broken glass and spilt alcohol. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his face.

His Father is climbing to his feet.

Daniel is thrown against the wall as his Father hisses abuse in his ear.

FATHER (CONT'D)

You want to be a bitch then I will treat you like a fucking whore!

His father's hands come up Daniel's skirt, and Daniel attempts to escape but is restrained quickly.

Daniel grins weakly as his father unbuttons his own jeans and slides Daniel’s dress up.

FADE TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

5.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, KITCHEN – NIGHT

Lit by only moonlight, Daniel sits in the dark at the kitchen table. His breathing is heavy and strained. His make up is smeared and there is dried blood caking the side of his face. His lip and cheekbone have swelled significantly and his dress is torn around the neck and left in haphazard ruins.

He is staring blankly at a bloodied knife.

6.   INT. SMALL HOUSE, LOUNGE – DAY

The house is immaculately clean and Daniel sits on the sofa in front of the television pouring himself a cup of tea from a pot.

He is wearing a beautiful summer dress, his make-up applied carefully over bruising and scabs, his hair is pulled back into a scrunchie.

He is beaming.

Beside him on the couch are two Decaying Corpses, both dressed like porcelain dolls in fancy clothes and wigs with glitter and coloured make-up upon their rotted faces.

Daniel leans back into the sofa and drapes his arm around his Father. He looks at the man lovingly and reaches over to kiss him on the cheek.

FADE TO BLACK.

END.

BLACK WEDDING

INT. GRAND RECEPTION HALL - EVENING

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.

END.

BÊTE NOIRE

EXT. CITY BACK STREET – LATE EVENING

The weather is bleak – a lightning storm highlights the dark grey sky in angry flashes.

A Man (42, harried, wearing a cheap suit) hurries on his way home from work. He brings his briefcase over his head as fat drops of rain start plopping to the Earth. His mobile phone rings - obnoxious technology in this powerful show of nature - and the Man fumbles to locate it whilst attempting to remain dry.

Once answered, the caller has barely had enough time to say a word before the Man is shaking his head.

MAN: No. No. No Jeffrey. As I already told you this morning, I want the Wilson’s account to be settled first. Yes, then deal with Carrigan and his incessant demands. Why is this so hard for you to understand—?

Lightning bleaches the world in an instant of blinding force, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder.

The Man looks at his phone, shakes it as if reviving it and returns it to his ear.

MAN: Hello? Jeffrey? Jeffrey! Damn it!

He stabs at his phone with his thumb. No signal.

Another lighting white out, this time, as it dissipates, A body is briefly illuminated in the street ahead.

The Man pauses, squinting ahead as if the body is a trick of the storm. The hand holding his phone, temporarily forgotten, falls to his side.

FUUUU-WOKKK!

He startles in fright as another crack of thunder rips the world. His briefcase no longer a suitable shield to the rain, he submits to a dampening.

The body - barefoot, dressed entirely in black, androgynous, and apparently unconscious - is almost impossible to see in the backdrop of the gloom. Only the paleness of its skin gives away its position.

Regaining his sensibility, the Man walks over to the body, approaching cautiously – drunks could be dangerous – even, psychotic drunks, to be out in this weather?

He rolls it over with the least amount of contact – did he really want to soil himself on this possible hobo? The body flops almost lifelessly, a tinge of blood at the corner of its mouth; its eyes blink open slowly… staring past the Man, to the sky above, longing.

MAN: Hey, are you alright?

Neither male nor female, the creature closes its eyes. Impossible to tell tears disguised in rain, its eyes say it all: it mourns.

CREATURE: Father’s angry.

The Man, less scared now and more concerned, wipes the blood from its mouth. He brushes the long dark hair from its face.

MAN: What happened to you?

The worst hurt anyone could possibly imagine has come to pass; inflicted on this poor precious beauty, and evident on its face.

It looks from the Man, to the sky above…

CREATURE (sobbing): I fell…

The Man follows its gaze to the Heavens above: dark grumbling clouds alive with ferocious activity and static power…

FADE TO BLACK.

Come Away With Me.

A review I just found for one of my short films, 'Come Away with Me'. 

From the MRC (Media Resource Centre) Lipsync magazine HERE. 

Review by Emily Brindal: 

"Come Away with Me is a dark tale of love between two selfdestructive gay men. While there is no rock ‘n’ roll, there is sex, drugs and self-harm. If there were a nice antonym for ‘light-hearted’, I would insert this word here. It is intense and unashamed in its intensity. The cinematography is beautiful and really engages the viewer in the story. It also adds tension which is at times lacking in the performances. Although overall the film is more serious than some may prefer, it achieves what it desires to – it confronts the viewer and asks them to consider the line between love and self-destruction."


You can watch my film HERE.

Gévaudan Rhymes

Gévaudan Rhymes is a fantasy/horror television series (1 hour episodes) similar to Being Human, American Horror Story etc. This pilot episode will revolve around the blossoming friendships of our three main characters, and debunking werewolf fiction from fact. It is aimed at an older teen/young adult audience and will be based more on werewolf legend than pure fantasy.

The main setting of series one is at university where our characters are studying anthropology, but this will only be the setting that unites the characters; the lessons will not feature unless they have direct relevance to an episode.

The narration is a study of human nature, with everyone having some side of their personality they are ashamed of, and want to hide from society. At the start, this is shown with Kal (werewolf) and, gender nonconformist, Blue. Throughout the series this flaw will be evident in everyone who features; including Tuesday and her ego, somewhat more sinister than the werewolves.

Kal is an introverted, socially awkward guy, displayed by stuttering, mumbling, limited eye contact, and at times, rambling. There is a subdued attraction he has towards Blue. He shows empathy towards the werewolf/killer. He thinks he understands him, as does Blue. This is their first instance of attraction.

Blue is sceptical, and almost asexual because of his gender dysphoria, but mutually curious towards Kal. Blue is very quiet and distrusting of new people and his personality grows with the developing story.

Tuesday is confident, bordering arrogant, vain, and you wonder why she is hanging out with these misfits. She can’t have Kal, so he’s all she wants, but she also wants to belittle him for refusing her. She is flirty, judgemental and jealous.

Dialogue in this section is mainly the characters learning about themselves and each other. I think I succeeded with showing the characters personalities, but not enough with Blue. Blue’s personality is too big to fit into a small section as he has many facets yet to explore. At the moment everyone is being overridden by Tuesday, who is the more outspoken one of the group.

GÉVAUDAN RHYMES © 2014

Episode 1: As the Wolfsbane Blooms

 START EXCERPT:

2.  EXT. UNIVERSITY GROUNDS. DAY                         

Androgynous BLUE sits against a River Red gum, as TUESDAY approaches, dropping the Advertiser beside him.

TUESDAY

Did you see this?

BLUE

(picking up the paper)

Local Werewolf Killer Strikes Again! A werewolf, seriously? What next, Dracula Rises?

He throws the paper back down and picks up the remainder of his lunch.

TUESDAY

(sitting down)

You know all the killings have occurred on a full moon—

BLUE

Coincidence.

TUESDAY

—And, all the victims have said to be mauled by something “resembling a large canine”.

Tuesday air quotes with long, slender fingers, topped with beautifully maintained hot pink nails. She raises her eyebrows, encouraging belief.

BLUE

You’ve been doing your research, I see.

TUESDAY

Alas, no. Subject’s taken. I just find it incredibly interesting that Kal would be following that train of thought. Did you hear, he’s proposing this guy is an actual werewolf, not just replicating the killings in a “wolfish” manner?

Tuesday swoons, collapsing down across Blue’s lap.

TUESDAY (CONT’D)

I think it’s sexy; the ultimate expression of power over another person.

BLUE

By eating them? I’m sure.

Blue yawns, his sight shifting to a young morose guy, KAL, wandering in their direction, oblivious to the attention.

Tuesday rises, and growls, noticing her prey.

TUESDAY

Gosh, that boy is awfully tasty.

Blue giggles and only then does Kal’s attention shift to the couple. He attempts a half smile which does nothing to lighten his brooding demeanour. He’s looking at Blue as he approaches – his grey eyes sheen unnaturally silver, like an animal caught in headlights.

BLUE

(rising to his feet)

Hey Kal.

Kal nods in response, shifting his gaze to his shoes.

KAL

Hi Blue.

TUESDAY

We were just talking about cannibalism…

(standing)

And speaking of, Kal, how’s your thesis coming along?

KAL

C-Cannibalism?

TUESDAY

I heard your character description of that murderer suggested something more mythological, say, a werewolf?

KAL

Werewolves cease being human once they’ve changed, so cannibalism is hardly fitting.

TUESDAY

Ahh, but you don’t doubt he may indeed be a werewolf?

KAL

This guy is real. He struck again last night, as you saw.

He nods towards the discarded paper.

TUESDAY

(grinning)

So it’s a ‘him’?

KAL

My character profiling suggests it’s a man, yes.

Kal is speaking to Tuesday, but his grey eyes flick over to Blue. He too is studying Kal curiously. Catching one another out, they both grin awkwardly.

TUESDAY

You know, Vore is a completely valid fetish. Perhaps this guy wanted to step it up from imaginary role playing.

KAL

(back at Tuesday)

V-Vore?

TUESDAY

It’s a sexual fetish where a person fantasizes about eating people, or watching people being eaten… I studied sexual fetishes first year. I can hardly believe that you’re not including this as a possibility though.

KAL

I—I guess I never thought of it like that— I don’t think it’s a sexual thing. I think he’s struggling with something inside himself that he has no control over, like, fighting a society that says it’s wrong to be who he is. It’s, well, I think I know what that would be like, if I was him, if… um, if you know what I mean…

BLUE

The wolf part is irrelevant.

KAL

(smiling at Blue)

Exactly.

Tuesday watches the two carefully, her eyes narrow.

TUESDAY

You want to join us for lunch?

KAL

N-No, I can’t. I have a lot of work to get through. I have a stack of texts by my bed I haven’t looked at yet.

TUESDAY

(elbows him playfully)

I’d like to see that!

KAL

(to Tuesday)

Yeah. Okay, see you.

(to Blue)

Bye Blue.

Blue waves briefly at him and smiles. Kal wanders off as awkwardly as he had approached. Tuesday sighs and looks at Blue.

TUESDAY

Damn. Must be gay.

BLUE

(raising his eyebrows)

A guy who doesn’t find you the 'be all and end all' certainly must be gay. Jeez Tuesday, for someone who studies human beings for a living, you really have no idea do you?

He snatches his bag up and moves off.

END EXCERPT.