I sat down the other day and planned out all the remaining episodes of this, including writing the last two pages. These scripts seems to be flowing out of me like an arterial wound.
UTTERLY RUCKED 03London KEAs logo by Guy Landry
by David Tulloch
Doorway on one side of the hotel that leads to the carpark. A London Kea team member, the tall Robert "Scotty" McPadden (Scot), number 5 (lock), is smoking a cigarette outside. There's a wheelie bin visibly nearby in which a body will be discovered soon. Have some flies buzzing around it.
The door opens and a hungover Patton Glen "Gen. Patton" Patterson (Pakeha) emerges from within carrying a cigarette packet and lighter, a cigarette already taken out in anticipation.
Scott: "Morning, Patton."
Patton: "Morning, Scotty. How's your head this morning?"
Patton lighting his cigarette. Scotty holding up a hip flask.
Scotty: "Nothing a wee hair of the dog wouldn't cure."
Scotty offering the hip flask to Patton.
Patton: "Ugh. Not for me. I'll go for a greasy breakfast and some coffee."
Wider title frame showing the two smokers and, off to one side, the wheelie bin with its cloud of flies.
Patton: "It doesn't half stink out here."
Scotty: "Aye, I was thinking that myself."
Part three, Blood Bin
Scotty has almost finished his cigarette, he uses it to point at the wheelie bin.
"I wonder if it's coming from there?"
"Leave it be, Scotty. My stomachs doing cartwheels as it is."
Scotty opening the bin, in which he is planning to chuck his cigarette end inside. However, his head is turned to Patton at this point.
Scotty: Don't be a feckin' wuss, Patton ...
Scotty: " ... it's just something gone rotten."
Scotty turning back, one hand holding the lid open, the other doing the classic cigarette flick into the bin.
Scotty horrified by whatever it is he's seen inside the (as yet) unseen interior of the bin.
Splash page showing the inside of the wheelie bin, in which Brice "Chopper" Morse has been stuffed head-first. He was stabbed repeatedly with shallow cuts so he bled into the wheelie bin and drowned in a pool of his own blood. Make sure the number 15 on his jersey is at least partly visible. Throwing up sounds off from Scotty.
(Patton, off): Jeez-us ... it's Chopper!!!"
The police Inspector, Diane Patel, interviewing Glen "Patton" Patterson
Patton: "We have to stop meeting like this, Inspector."
Inspector Patel: "Hmm. So the deceased is a Mr. Brice Morse, known to his friends as 'Chopper'."
Patton: "That's right. Chopper was a good bloke. Safe pair of hands under the high ball."
Inspector Patel: "Did he have any enemies?"
Patton: "Just his ex-wife. Well, maybe an ex-girlfriend or two as well."
Inspector Patel: "Do you know of anyone who might hold a grudge against your team?"
Patton: "No. More ex-girlfriends and ex-wives, I suppose?"
Inspector Patel: "No-one specific?"
Patton: "Not that I can think of. I mean, we're just a bunch of blokes having a fun tour. Or at least we were trying to."
Patton: "You think someone's got it in for us?"
Inspector Patel: "Well, two murders in two days would seem to be a trend."
Patton: "I thought you said Shorty's death was an accident?"
Inspector Patel: "In light of recent events we are rethinking our lines of inquiry."
Patton: "Christ. So no chance Chopper's death was an accident then?"
Inspector Patel: "Not many people put themselves head first into a wheelie bin and then cut themselves all over ...
Inspector Patel: "... so they drown in their own blood."
Patton: "He drowned?"
Patton working something out in his head.
Inspector Patel: "Yes. Quite an ugly way to go."
Patton: "He drowned face down in a wheelie bin in his own blood ..."
Patton having an epihany. Patel not quite getting it yet.
Patton: "... Oh dear lord, you know what this means?"
Patel also figuring it out
Inspector Patel: "It's a blood bin!"
Patton: "A halfback cut in half, now death by blood bin ... "
Large panel of their shocked faces to finish.
Patton: "There's a rugby-hating psycho out there killing players with puns."
Inspector Patel: "It's the ultimate perversion of the New Zealand dream!!"
Next: Tight Head