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 Category:  Mystery and Crime Script
  Posted: October 23, 2019      Views: 45

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 ABOUT
BRETT MATTHEW WEST 

You are enjoying another piece of writing penned by the NUMBER 5 RANKED SCRIPT WRITER OF THE YEAR FOR 2019!!!

My reviews are mere suggestions. Feel free to use anything that provides assistance and/or chuck the whole shebang.

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He is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #34 spot on the rankings.

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Bee-Bo the Clown's prison interview
"The Clown" by Brett Matthew West



(Fourteen years old and wheelchair bound, Cody becomes the target of the evil Bee-Bo the Clown. Can Cody survive his most challenging quagmire to date? Find out in The Clown.)

"The Clown"

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

Bee-Bo the Clown/Mark Bannister - The embodiment of evil. Arch nemesis of Sheriff Brock Daniels. Imprisoned for multiple murders as well as for kidnapping and assaulting young children. Has a penchant for using a wood chipper to dispose of his victims' corpses and for cannibalism.

Bob Trumby - Channel 13 newscaster.

Brock Daniels - Sheriff of the small West Texas town of Astatula.

Cody Schroder - Adopted by Sheriff Brock Daniels when he was ten years old. Now fourteen. Suffered severe mental, physical, sexual, and emotional abuse at the hands of his "male sperm donor" (as Cody refers to him) Earl Anthony Schroder, who perished in a 93-mile per hour head-on car crash into a guardrail in their hometown of Palo Pinto. Hunted by Bee-Bo the Clown.

INT - VISITORS' LOUNGE HUNTSVILLE PRISON - MORNING:

SCENE: News Reporter Bob Trumby and Mark Bannister/Bee-Bo the Clown sit at a table for an interview.

FADE IN:

MARK BANNISTER: Doesn't that starched collar choke you? I could never wear a noose around my neck.

BOB TRUMBY: They have a needle waiting for you.

MARK BANNISTER: You must fancy yourself Chief Thuggo. But, if you need a lesson in thugonomics, I'll be glad to provide the fireworks. To gauge incompetence, all you have to do is look no further than the Texas Department of Corrections. That's where the blame lays, because conditions there are catastrophic and only skeleton guard crews remain on any shift. Whatever trips their effing trigger.

BOB TRUMBY: You seemed to have it all as a well known entertainer. Who doesn't love a clown? What I'd like to know is what drove you to commit the murders you stand convicted of? You had to know what the subsequent results of those actions would be.

MARK BANNISTER: Right and wrong don't interest me. I ain't no moralizer. But holy kaka, I could smoke me a cancer stick, or better yet, a roll-your-own blunt. You got one?

BOB TRUMBY: No, I don't associate with drugs.

MARK BANNISTER: See if you can wrap your mind around this concept, Mr. Self-Righteous Interview Man. Barbarism, that's what spurned my actions. You still with me?

(Trumby does not respond. Bannister rambles on)

MARK BANNISTER: I plot my own course. There are no potholes in my memory lanes. Seriously, I'm a nice, good, person...who does bad things. This powder keg simply awaits a spark.

BOB TRUMBY I'm listening.

MARK BANNISTER: News flash! Regardless of what I do, I always remain in full control of my faculties. For instance, while I rot away like a caged animal inside my fifty-four square foot cell in this hell-hole they call Death Row, I contemplate how best to even the score with a certain sheriff, one named Brock Daniels. You ever hear of the prickasauras who put me in here?

BOB TRUMBY: Yes, like everyone else in Astatula, I know Sheriff Daniels well. But, what were your intentions after you escaped from prison?

MARK BANNISTER: My intentions? Ha! That's a riot! Here's what I did, genius. And, I'll try to explain this in simple terms even you should be able to understand.

(Trumby's uneasiness resulting from Bannister's turn of hostility is obvious. Bannister does not care)

MARK BANNISTER: Like a panther, I stalked that worthless urchin of his. I knew when the little bastard was brought to Astatula, the best way to strike back at my arch nemesis was through his little sitting duck. Quack! Quack! If he'd been left in Palo Pinto where he belongs, none of the rest of these events ever would have occurred.

BOB TRUMBY: You seem to want to blame everyone else for your troubles.

MARK BANNISTER: You got a problem with that? Now, as I was saying before being so rudely interrupted by someone way below my dignity, like the blindness of the human race this could not be seen. Well, ignorance breeds contempt. I held a golden ticket in my sweet little hand, and couldn't resist the temptation chastising that half-baked gobbler presents.

BOB TRUMBY: To clarify for the record, you are talking about Cody Schroder are you not, the boy who brought down the Astatula Assassin and made a name for himself doing so?

MARK BANNISTER: Name! Smame! Of course I'm talking about Cody Schroder. Who else do you think I'm talking about? The Man in the Frigging, Cow-Sucking, Moon? I've always hated that pint-sized pygmy son of a salted sea biscuit.

BOB TRUMBY: Cody Schroder was a ten year old boy when Sheriff Daniels adopted him and you first targeted him...

MARK BANNISTER : Yadda. Yadda. Yadda. Now, he's fourteen. And, duh, I still plan to use my surreptitious stealth to rid the world of that blight once and for all. I just need to bide my time and strike while the iron blazes. Simple arithmetic. I can wait. But, I promise you, not for long. The question is, can he? Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo.

BOB TRUMBY: How many boys have you snatched?

MARK BANNISTER: Tweedly-Dee and Tweedly-Dumb, look out cause here I come. Social media and Snapchat. Two of the most valuable tools of the trade. (A thought comes to him) Tony Simpkins. That's right. That was the little peckerhead's name.

BOB TRUMBY: Who is he?

MARK BANNISTER: Oh Hell, he was number twenty-three, or was it number twenty-four? Who knows, or even gives a rat's crap? What I liked about him was his button green eyes. Those went straight in my stewpot. Delicious! But, you weren't there, vaquero. So, how the Hell would you know? There's been so many of them over the years I can't keep them straight. Anywho, I lured him from Lubbock. I promised the bellyacher what every boy wants if he'd meet me.

BOB TRUMBY: What's that?

MARK BANNISTER: An X-Box. The wonders of electronics. And, what did I get in return? Weep! Bawl! And snivel! That's all the guttersnipe did. Drove me bonkers!

BOB TRUMBY: How did he get to you?

MARK BANNISTER: Shame! Shame! Tony Simpkins was a very naughty little tyke and stole his daddy's pickup truck, then met me in back of them woods over on the other side of Sullivan Lake. Touche! Every kid in the area knows where they're at. He was twelve. I do like my little puppies y-o-u-n-g. It's awesome what a clown costume can make ankle-biters do. (Blows an imaginary balloon up till it pops) Boom! But, all of that just muddies the water.

BOB TRUMBY: What happened to him?

MARK BANNISTER: So sad! A tragedy befell the scamp. He didn't survive my trusty wood chipper. And, that 's what I intend to do to Cody Schroder.

(An eerie silence so thick Trumby can hear it settles over the room and frightens the newscaster. A lump wells up in the back of his throat and he swallows hard. Shackled to the table where he sits, Bannister leans forward in his chair)

MARK BANNISTER: Still do!

(He removes the wire rimmed glasses off his face)

MARK BANNISTER: Things aren't always as they appear. Take the aspheric lenses of these specs. Are you aware they are constructed of common window pane glass?

BOB TRUMBY: No, I am not.

MARK BANNISTER: Of course you aren't. You're no rocket scientist. Far from it. And, like these glasses, I am yet to show the world the many dimensions of Bee-Bo the Clown. These prison walls can't contain me. They may chain my body, but not my mind. Nor, can they prevent my destiny. And, from what I hear through the grapevine, your little boy's in a wheelchair. What's he gonna do when the clown runs wild on him?

BOB TRUMBY: Don't you go anywhere near Cody Schroder!

MARK BANNISTER: Roast in Hell!

(Eerily, the overhead light flickers on and off repeatedly as Bannister rises to his feet)

BOB TRUMBY: Guard!

(Wrapping his hands around Trumby's neck, Bannister lets loose an evil, sinister laugh)

FADE OUT:

Author Notes
If you are not familiar with my Cody Schroder books and stories, you may have a hard time picking up on what is going on in this first script.

Prickasauras - Bee-Bo-ism for prick

Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doo - a Bee-Bo-ism

vaquero - Spanish for cowboy









This is Evan, by Lilibug6, selected to complement my script.

So, thanks Lilibug6, for the use of your picture that provides Cody such an easily recognizable face on FanStory.
Pays one point and 2 member cents. Artwork by Lilibug6 at FanArtReview.com

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© Copyright 2016. Brett Matthew West All rights reserved.
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