ParaNorman Page #7

NEIL:

Is it all that walking dead stuff

again?

NORMAN:

Mr Prenderghast appeared to me in

the bathroom!

NEIL:

Ew.

ParaNorman 31.

42 CONTINUED:
42

NORMAN:

No, his spirit! He says the

witch’s curse is real and I have

to go up to the old graveyard to

stop it! Before the sun sets

tonight!

Neil shifts uneasily as he processes.

NEIL:

So you wanna come play a bit

later?

NORMAN:

Didn’t you hear what I just said?!

NEIL:

Yeah, but I thought my idea was

less likely to get us eaten.

Norman knows he’s on his own in this.

NORMAN:

Just go home, Neil. I’m better off

on my own anyway.

NEIL:

But...

NORMAN:

Go home!

Norman reaches up and closes the window. Neil’s shoulders

sag and he turns away.

Across the room, his Grandma materializes, and squints

her eyes through the window as Neil awkwardly pulls

himself over the garden fence.

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

Jeez, who rattled your chains?

NORMAN:

No one.

Norman isn’t in the mood for any more discussion.

NORMAN (CONT’D)

Dad says I’m not supposed to talk

to you any more, Grandma.

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

Jackass. If I were a poltergeist

I’d throw something at his head.

Y’know, by rights I’m supposed to

be frolicking in paradise with

your grandfather, but I’m not.

ParaNorman 32.

42 CONTINUED:
(2) 42

Norman looks up as she drifts closer to the bed.

NORMAN:

So why did you stay?

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

I was never one for frolicking.

I’ll bet there’s no cable or

canasta up there either. Besides,

I promised I’d always look out for

you.

She smiles, floating in a sitting position at the end of

Norman’s bed. She bobs gently, like a balloon. For a

second, this seems to comfort Norman, but then another

thought crosses his mind.

NORMAN:

So it’s your... duty?

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

In a manner of speaking...

NORMAN:

And you’d do it no matter what?

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

Of course.

NORMAN:

Even if it was something really

scary...

Grandma eyes him curiously.

GRANDMA BABCOCK:

There’s nothing wrong with being

scared Norman, so long as you

don’t let it change who you are.

Norman thinks this over, then smiles up at her again. She

goes to rub his head affectionately, but her ghost hand

just passes right through his spiky hair.

She gives him a wink, and drifts away through the wall.

He is still scared, but now determined too. He steels

himself and grabs his jacket from his bed.

43 INT. BABCOCK’S HOUSE, COURTNEY’S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS 43

The tiny room is crammed full of posters, pom-poms, plush

toys and plastic trophies. Pretty much everything is

pink. Courtney sits talking on her phone, cotton buds

between her toes as her painted nails dry.

ParaNorman 33.

43 CONTINUED:
43

COURTNEY:

So I said to her, “Girl, come backand talk to me when your basket

toss gets twelve thousand hits onYouTube!” Yeah, no, I said that.

(listens and nods)

Yeah, I’m stuck on lame patrol.

Tonight’s gonna be a total yawn.

From downstairs, a door SLAMS. Courtney frowns, puts herhand over the phone and shouts out.

COURTNEY (CONT'D)

Norman?!

*

44 EXT. BABCOCK’S HOUSE, FRONT YARD - MOMENTS LATER

Beneath a florid evening sky, the Babcock’s drive is in

darkness. Pedalling furiously, Norman rides his bike outof the shadows into the light of the street.

COURTNEY (O.S.)

You better not be sneaking out youlittle weirdo!

44

45 EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - CONTINUOUS 45

On a street corner two teenage girls approach Alvin andPug, who have laid out a breakdancing mat and a beatboxand are doing their best to impress. Alvin imagines he iswowing the girls with his krumping, his ham-like limbsflying around and Pug hollering support, but in truththey watch in morbid fascination.

A faint CLATTERING sound down the road grows louder.

Norman suddenly THUNDERS past them on his bike, spinningAlvin on the spot and knocking him onto his butt.

Show over, Alvin blunders to his feet, his eyes followingNorman’s trajectory up the dark road, and GROWLS.

46 EXT. WOODED LANE, MR PRENDERGHAST’S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING

Tall conifers rise up high on either side of the road,

now little more than a dirt track. Norman pedals up thehill and swerves, skidding to a stop in the gravel.

He climbs off the bike, eyes fixed on a ramshackle housepartially hidden in the foliage, its porch door swingingand CREAKING eerily in the breeze.

He cautiously advances past a crooked mailbox on which iswritten “PRENDERGHAST”, and steps onto the wooden porch.

46

ParaNorman 34.

47 INT. MR PRENDERGHAST’S HOUSE, HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

The fading light of day spills across the floorboards andfaded wallpaper of a long passage.

NORMAN:

Hello? Mr Prenderghast?

Motes of dust float around Norman as he moves slowlytoward a door, slightly ajar, muttering to himself.

He quietly makes his way past all manner of objects thatepitomize the state of Mr Prenderghast’s mind; a

mannequin in a shopping cart, a pile of brokentypewriters, a suspended bag of spoons, a closet full ofidentically soiled hobo suits, a Nordic track...

47

48 INT. PRENDERGHAST’S HOUSE, STUDY - CONTINUOUS

The study is filled with teetering piles of junk and oldfurniture draped over in dust sheets. A crucifix hangsover a metal cot with rumpled bedding. This is evidentlywhere the old man lived his whole life. Starlight from awindow picks out a macabre halo on a shape on the floor:

Mr Prenderghast, dead where he fell, tightly clutching aleather-bound book.

48

CLOSE ON Norman’s face as he swallows nervously and steps

closer to the body. He gingerly takes hold of the bookand gives a gentle tug. It holds fast in the rigor mortisgrasp. He tugs harder, shaking the book repeatedly, thecorpse shaking with it.

NORMAN:

Let go!

Norman spends several strenuous moments dragging the bodyacross the floorboards, Mr Prenderghast’s head glancing

off table legs and smacking repeatedly against thefloorboards, as Norman tries to wrestle the book free.

With a final yank the book pulls loose and, GASPING,

Norman grips the book to his chest and runs to the door.

49 EXT. WOODED LANE, MR PRENDERGHAST’S HOUSE - SAME

Norman careens through the door, leaps off the porch andsprints along the wooded lane up the hill, watched byAlvin, concealed behind some bushes.

49

50 EXT. WOODED HILLTOP, OLD CHAPEL GRAVEYARD - LATER

Norman emerges from the woods, his long shadow precedinghim as the sun begins its descent behind the tall trees.

50

ParaNorman 35.

50 CONTINUED:
50

He pauses and stares out across weathered tombstones

poking out amidst tangles of thorns.

Clutching the book tight, Norman wrenches open the heavy

gate, its rusted padlock crumbling apart.

Eventually the track runs up to a stone slab surrounded

on either side by thick bramble. Norman brushes aside

vines and reads an epitaph engraved into the stone;

“HERE LIES BURIED THE SEVEN VICTIMS OF THE BLITHE HOLLOW

CURSE. MAY YOUR SOULS FIND EVENTUAL AND EVERLASTING

SALVATION. 1712.”

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