House of Bones

---

Did you bring it?

Here it is.

Babe Ruth's hitter for his

29th and last home run,

before the Red Sox traded him

to the Yanks in 1919.

Bad luck for the Sox.

Collector's item for my dad.

Autographed?

- Careful.

- No way.

My dad'll give me a beating

if he knows I showed you.

- Let me hit it.

- Are you crazy?

Come on.

It's just a baseball.

- That wasn't the deal.

- Deals change.

Right, J.J.?

Wait. You said...

Batter up.

Don't!

Great.

You can't go in there.

I have to get my dad's ball.

He'll pound me

if I don't bring it home.

I'd take your chances

with your dad.

Whatever.

For over 50 years,

the Wicker House

has been abandoned,

scarred by time, feared by all,

its sordid history

filled with dark tales.

But what's the real story

behind the Wicker House?

Is there any substance

to the rumors

of countless murders

of immigrants,

slaves, prostitutes?

Then, in 1951,

a boy taken

by the house itself.

And now, decades later,

the mansion is left

without a new owner.

But its legacy continues.

Locals report strange noises,

movement behind the curtains.

And then there's

the constant stream

of mysterious disappearances.

So is it just

another urban legend?

Or is the Wicker House

really haunted?

We'll investigate next week

on Sinister Sites.

What, am I gonna stand here

looking like a jerk-off?

Somebody gonna yell "cut"? Cut!

That's terrible.

This is coffee.

Where's my Scotch?

You got five minutes for me?

Yeah, of course,

of course, of course.

Listen, sweetie, do me a favor.

Why don't you move my

lunch meeting by 15 minutes?

Make sure you tell the maitre'd

I want the same table.

- They can't screw me on the table.

- Yes, sir.

Okay, go on, go on.

That's fine.

Thanks, babe. Later.

Later, in the dressing room.

Did you get to see

some of the magic?

I thought we weren't

doing composites anymore.

You know, the fans

just think the CGI's awful,

and the whole thing's

just kind of tired.

Wow. Okay.

Uh, a couple of teenagers

in their parents' basement

write up a few negative blogs,

suddenly my hit show is tired?

Former hit show,

would be more accurate.

Walk with me.

So we, uh...

Ooh. It dropped two points

after the premiere?

It's worse than that.

You lost four points

with the 18 to 25-year-old male.

So we'll make some changes,

you know?

We'll add some

T and A, somehow.

Just set up a conference call

with my producers.

- They'll handle it, all right?

- We're a little bit past that point.

I already spoke to Tom

about some format changes.

Don't say or do anything

until we get the camera rolling, all right?

I'm just checking it out.

Is that a fresh coat of paint?

Tom's gonna freak out.

The location pictures were a lot creepier.

I am definitely getting

a lot of energy from the house.

Okay, well, that's good.

That's good.

But can we save that

for the camera?

- Bub is driving.

- Is that the producer?

Bub's a local hire.

- Who painted the house?

- That's a good question.

Who's got the key?

The bank Realtor, that's who.

Jeez, these local yokels.

I'm not too impressed myself, so...

What are you saying,

that I'm not a star anymore here,

- all of a sudden?

- No, no.

Don't you realize that

I just got offered ten grand

for a one-day appearance at

the Port Washington, Wisconsin,

comic book convention?

Buddy, I got fans.

You have fans, absolutely.

But you know this.

Everything's just changed.

It's the whole reality TV thing.

People want stars

to be regular Joes.

I'm not gonna make

a meal out of this.

We... We're not getting

our money's worth

with you doing cheesy bumpers

in front of a green screen.

Now if we were to mix in

a little reality show,

a big-name star

actually on location,

- that could play.

- Location? Yeah, right.

You guys don't pay me

enough for that.

If you don't,

the network's prepared

to terminate your contract.

Fine. I'll book a ticket.

That's what I thought you'd say.

I already booked you one.

- First class?

- Don't push it.

I gotta take this.

Ah, you prick.

So how was the ride

with the psychic?

It was fine.

Started talking about feelings

as soon as we got here.

I told her to save it

for the camera.

She mention a husband

or boyfriend or anything?

I didn't go there, Tom.

I don't go there. Okay?

Plus, Greg's your wingman

on those operations.

I'm camera.

That's all I do.

Okay, camera. Can you get

the van unloaded, please,

and see if we can get

our location open?

Should we wake your boy up?

Dude's been sleeping

since the airport.

Leave him.

That's the kind of job

I want right there.

Sit on my ass all day,

collect a paycheck.

Just chill.

Hey, bro.

How you doing, man?

I'm Tom Rule.

I'm the producer.

We didn't get a chance

to talk very much in the car.

- Yeah, you were in there on that phone.

- Listen, do me a favor.

I don't usually fire the P.A.

Until after the second day, so,

keep your mouth shut,

and don't cheat yourself

out of the overtime, all right?

Okay.

Who pissed in his Cheerios?

Dude, the ratings are down, you know?

Perfect.

Oh, jeez.

So did you get caught up

on your beauty sleep?

Yeah. Thank you.

Well, it's nice of you

to decide to join us.

You know, Greg, I like you.

But I would hate to have

to do this show without you.

You would.

Well, you know what they say.

The show must go on.

Yeah.

Yeah.

How about that paint job?

Aw, man. What do you think

they were thinking with that one?

Extreme Makeover,

Haunted House Edition.

Yeah, that's not even funny.

I told them to leave it

exactly the way that it is.

It's the grimmer, the better.

Maybe we use it.

The house did it.

Quentin could sell it.

If he shows up.

You think he'll show up?

I don't think he's got

much of a choice.

You're right.

Oh, no key.

The Realtor will

be here any minute.

Dude. You really think

we need a key?

Right.

Freaky.

Boo-yah.

After you, Tombo.

House paints house.

House lets us in.

House feeds guests.

Whoa.

Now that's what

I call hospitality.

What else this house do?

- Hi, I'm Sarah. Nice to meet you.

- From the bank.

Yeah, yeah.

You listening? All right.

Tommy thinks

you're late, but, uh...

How did you open

the gate without a key?

We thought you

left it open for us.

You guys were not given permission

to stay here tonight.

- It's okay.

- It's not okay.

Where is Tom?

He's around back.

All right.

So?

First impressions?

Not as creepy as that sanitarium

in Santa Mira, but...

nothing that a smoke machine

and backlighting won't fix.

Me likey.

We'll set up in here.

This was not our arrangement.

You cannot stay here.

Okay, look, Sarah.

Tom's going to straighten

all this out...

The bank carries

a liability in this place.

You're permitted to film here

a few hours tomorrow,

not tonight.

- You're not covered.

- Great. Um...

Dude, should I just

put it in the car?

What... Uh...

- You're late.

- You're early.

Unpack the stuff by the fireplace.

- Wait.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes