The Boxtrolls Page #10

Snatcher loses patience and spins the table so that a plate

lands in front of him. As he moves to pierce the cheese with

his fork, the plate shifts to the left. He glares at Mr.

Trout and Mr. Pickles, who turned the table top. They

immediately return the plate.

The Redhats stare nervously as Snatcher stabs the curd and

raises it to his lips and places it on his tongue. He chews,

relishing it, then swallows.

SNATCHER (CONT’D)

(smiling)

Mmmm!

The Redhats relax. They take a tiny piece of cheese each and

eat it.

SNATCHER (CONT’D)

I say, old chaps, it’s quite, um...

Quite-

MR. TROUT

--Aromatic? Oaky? With an undertone

of a mother’s smile on a warm

spring day? Hmm...

SNATCHER:

Yes! Those things! Etcetera

etcetera, big words, chummy

banter...

As the Redhats look on in horror, red spots appear across

Snatcher’s face. He scratches at them absently.

MR. PICKLES

(whispered to Trout)

Someone’s got the cheese fits

again.

MR. TROUT

(shudders)

Ohhh...

(whispered to Gristle)

Quickly, quietly, get the leeches.

Gristle scurries away, crossing behind Snatcher.

50.

MR. GRISTLE

QUIETLY!

SNATCHER:

(slurred)

Where is he going? Is he getting

more cheese?

Snatcher’s lips instantly PUFF UP into huge, wobbly,

distended FISH LIPS. The Redhats stare-

MR. GRISTLE

Quietly!

SNATCHER:

What?

MR. PICKLES

(scared)

I think you’ve had enough for

today, boss.

In the background, Eggs’ silhouette appears in the soot-

covered window. He wipes away the grime to look in.

EXT. SNATCHER’S FACTORY - DAY

Eggs looks away from the window up at a large, rickety AIR

DUCT attached to the side of the building. He climbs into the

duct, leaving his disguise behind.

INT. SNATCHER’S FACTORY - DAY

BACK TO SCENE. Snatcher’s face is now grotesquely misshapen

and one eye has swollen shut like Quasimodo.

SNATCHER:

(slurred by swollen lips)

Isn’t this nice? Chewing the

cheddar with the big cheessses.

Holding my own-

(gulps cheese)

--With sssophissstication and

sssavoir faire!

Pickles, and Trout sit nervously at the table and stare at

him.

MR. PICKLES

(super worried)

Yup. Nothing terrifying about that.

51.

MR. TROUT

(rubs his neck, nervously)

Uh huh huh...

SNATCHER:

Thisss is where I belong!

He leans back in his “throne” and begins orating again.

MR. TROUT

Spot on, as always, sir.

Eggs appears peeking out of the air duct high on the factory

wall.

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

You’re not wrong, boss.

SNATCHER:

(angry)

Well not here! In this rotten

factory!

Snatcher quickly leans forward, slams his fist on the table

and stands.

SNATCHER (CONT’D)

I belong up there!

Eggs shrinks back into the duct, afraid that Snatcher has

noticed him.

MR. TROUT (O.S.)

I’m agreeing so I don’t upset you.

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

Very clever.

ON SNATCHER as he lurches up from the table and points toward

the city. Eggs retreats slightly into the duct in response to

Snatcher’s erratic movements.

SNATCHER:

In the tasting room, supping on the

choicest cheeses... Everyone in

town bowing down to me, like a

gentleman, a lord with a white hat!

ON EGGS:
He spots Fish in a cage suspended above the floor.

EGGS:

Fish!

He leaps onto a hanging chain and climbs.

52.

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

You’ve never been wrong, boss.

SNATCHER (O.S.)

It’s a time-honored tradition.

In the background, Snatcher stands up quickly, sending his

chair flying and stalks around.

SNATCHER (CONT’D)

(frustration)

Aaaarrgh!

Eggs climbs across the rafters, above the Redhats as-

MR. TROUT

Now, now boss... Don’t get yourself

all worked up.

MR. PICKLES

Use your breathing.

--Pickles and Trout follow Snatcher nervously, like guards at

an insane asylum.

ON SNATCHER:
as they move in to comfort him but he rails back

at them, arms flailing.

SNATCHER:

Stand back peasants! You don’t

touch your King!

ON EGGS:
as he works his way through ceiling girders. He

jumps from the rafters to a loose chain.

SNATCHER (O.S.) (CONT’D)

King Archibald Snatcher. Yes, I

shall be king too, why not?

MR. TROUT (O.S.)

Stay with us, boss.

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

Tell us more about when you’ll be

king.

Eggs lands quietly. He peeks out from behind a crate and

sees Snatcher climb onto the table to get away from Trout and

Pickles.

SNATCHER:

HE won’t let me! That pompous

Portley-Rind and his gaggle of

giggling sycophants.

53.

Fish’s cage hangs in between.

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

Now, now Boss, you be careful up

there.

Eggs runs to Fish’s hanging cage and climbs on.

SNATCHER (O.S.)

Father always said if you worked

hard, you’d get a white hat! And

what did he ever get! NOTHING!

EGGS:

(whispers)

Fish.

FISH:

(startled)

Ahhh!

Fish hides in his box making the cage swing and SQUEAK.

ON GRISTLE:
In the corner where he leans into a filthy FISH

TANK pulling out slimy, wriggly LEECHES and dropping them

into a jar.

Gristle jerks up and hones in on the sound like a bat. He

stares as the cage slowly spins threatening to reveal Eggs.

MR. TROUT

Hurry Mr. Gristle, were losing him.

Gristle turns back to harvesting leeches just as Eggs swings

into view. PHEW!

Eggs swings himself back out of sight.

SNATCHER (O.S.)

I’ve worked my hump off for this

town!

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

And it’s growing back.

SNATCHER (O.S.)

Wading through wet garbage in the

middle of the night, crawling after

monsters! What has Portley-Rind

ever done. Eat some cheese, run the

government, NOTHING!

54.

ON FISH:
as Eggs watches the Redhats argue. Snatcher

unsteadily climbs on top of the table and continues his

tirade.

SNATCHER (CONT’D)

What has Portley-Rind ever done.

Eat some cheese, run the

government, NOTHING!

Fish pokes his head back out of his box.

FISH:

Eggggs!

EGGS:

SHH!

MR. PICKLES (O.S.)

Come on down from there, boss.

Eggs throws the lock on Fish’s cage and hops down, holding

the door open.

MR. TROUT (O.S.)

Just put one giant blob-shaped foot

in front of the other.

EGGS:

(whispering)

Let’s go... Come on, come on!

Fish shuffles out of the cage, murmuring with fear.

SNATCHER (O.S.)

(angry)

I’ll rip that hat off of PortleyRind’s

head... WHOA HOAH!

THUNK! Fish hides in his box and Eggs hunkers down as if he

had a box, but Snatcher wasn’t talking to them.

MR. PICKLES

Boss, boss!

MR. TROUT

Boss!

ON SNATCHER:
He has lost his balance and crashed to the

floor. Trout and Pickles twist their hands, unsure of what to

do, as Snatcher lays atop the broken table.

SNATCHER:

(groggy)

I’m alright. Just give me a hand.

55.

Snatcher holds up his cheese-covered hand and the hand

suddenly SWELLS UP into a grotesque meat glove!

MR. PICKLES

(disgusted)

Ugh. Mother of sausages!

MR. TROUT (O.S.)

Holy meat glove!

Eggs looks horrified at the sight of Snatcher’s giant hand.

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