Six Feet Under Page #9

FADE TO WHITE:

FADE IN:

45 INT. COMMERCIAL SET/WHITE VOID - DAY 45

We HEAR PROVOCATIVE MUSIC as we MOVE slowly, seductively over

a man's reclining BODY on an elegant, modern CHAISE LOUNGE.

Clad only in a pair of faded jeans, he's muscular and sexy.

We MOVE over his chest, stomach, neck, never seeing his face.

It seems as if we're in a television commercial for upscale

jeans, or expensive men's cologne. Finally we MOVE down his

arm (that's draped over the side of the chaise) to the floor,

where a PLASTIC CONTAINER OF EMBALMING FLUID sits in a pool

of light.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)

Introducing new Living Splendour, the

choice of top embalmers. Guaranteed to

leave skin texture bouncy and flexible,

resulting in the velvety look and feel

of actual living tissue--

The commercial ends abruptly, as if someone switched the TV

off. SCREEN GOES BLACK.

46 INT. FUNERAL HOME - STAIRWELL OUTSIDE PREP ROOM - (NIGHT

ONE) 46

We HEAR ETHEREAL, slightly OMINOUS MUSIC, as we MOVE SLOWLY

down a dimly-lit STAIRCASE. As we reach the bottom, we see a

DOOR on which is stenciled:

PRIVATE:

As we MOVE CLOSER to the door, we INTERCUT with FLASHES of:

47 INT. PREP ROOM - FLASHBACK (1973), NIGHT 47

CLOSE on a MAN'S HANDS, pulling on LATEX GLOVES.

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25.

CLOSE on the GLOVED HANDS as they arrange gleaming, surgical

instruments on a tray.

CLOSE on a GLOVED HAND holding a SCALPEL as it MOVES along

the raised, rounded edge of a fiberglass PREPARATION TABLE,

upon which lies a male CORPSE. We can't see his face, but his

hair and coloring is the same as Nathaniel Fisher's.

CLOSE on a DRAIN between the corpse's FEET: within a steady

FLOW OF WATER we see the diluted yet unmistakable crimson of

human BLOOD reach the drain.

CLOSE on the GLOVED HANDS handling a TROCAR, a frighteningly

LONG NEEDLE attached to a CLEAR PLASTIC TUBE.

CLOSE on the GLOVED HANDS, grasping the TROCAR and holding it

aloft, preparing to drive it into the corpse.

CLOSE on the GLOVED HANDS as they flick a SWITH on some sort

of INDUSTRIAL PUMP. We HEAR MACHINERY REVVING UP.

CLOSE on the CLEAR PLASTIC TUBE, MOVING with the YELLOWISH

EMBALMING FLUID that's pumping through it.

48 INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE PREP ROOM - (NIGHT ONE) 48

STILL MOVING toward the DOOR, which SLOWLY OPENS...

48A INT. PREP ROOM - FLASHBACK (1973), NIGHT 48A

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD NATE stands at the open door, solemnly watching:

NATHANIEL FISHER (at 29) stands at the preparation table,

wearing LATEX GLOVES, casual early-seventies clothing and a

porkpie hat. A cigarette dangles from his mouth as he massages

the limbs of the body on the table. A RECORD PLAYER is on a

cart next to the table. The ETHEREAL, OMINOUS MUSIC has been

abruptly replaced by Sarah Vaughn SINGING "NICE WORK IF YOU

CAN GET IT."

Nathaniel spots Nate and smiles.

NATHANIEL:

Hey there, buddy boy. Come on in. Say

hello to Mr. Bloomberg.

Nate approaches the preparation table tentatively.

NATHANIEL (CONT'D)

Nothing to be afraid of, Nate. Mr.

Bloomberg's dead. I'm getting him ready

so his family can see him one last time,

and say goodbye to him. It'll make them

feel better.

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26.

Nate isn't listening, he's staring at Mr. Bloomberg's OPEN

MOUTH. An exuberant FOUR-YEAR-OLD DAVID suddenly rushes in,

holding a naked G.I. JOE, pointing it like a gun.

DAVID:

Bang!

NATHANIEL:

(clutches chest))

Oh! You got me!

David LAUGHS gleefully, points the G.I. Joe at Nate.

DAVID:

Bang! Nate! Bang!

But Nate just keeps staring at Mr. Bloomberg. Impatient, David

runs over to him.

Too short to see over the edge of the table, he stares at

Nate, wondering what his brother finds so fascinating. He

starts JUMPING up and down to get a better look. Nathaniel

offers a LATEX GLOVE to Nate.

NATHANIEL:

You can touch him if you wear one of

these. Believe me, he won't care.

Nate stares up at his father, then turns and runs out of the

room. David watches him go, mystified. Nathaniel just

CHUCKLES quietly and takes a drag off his cigarette.

SMASH CUT TO:

49 INT. PREP ROOM - PRESENT DAY (NIGHT ONE) 49

CLOSE ON ADULT NATE, expressionless, looking down at:

NATHANIEL'S FACE, dead. He's lying on A NEWER PREPARATION

TABLE, tubes inserted, embalming fluid pumping in. HIP HOP

MUSIC plays on a BOOMBOX nearby.

A WIDER ANGLE. Nate stands in the doorway, staring at his

dead father's face, uncomfortable. A diminutive MAN enters

from an adjoining room, wearing a white lab coat over hip

clothes, latex gloves, a surgical mask, and a Plexiglas face

shield. He's carrying a POLAROID CAMERA, which he focuses on

Nathaniel's face and snaps a shot. As he pulls the undeveloped

picture out, he notices Nate standing there.

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