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 !  The Faerie King, part 3

An Original Comedy Screenplay By

John H. Leeper

** Note - Terms used in spec scripts:
O.S. = Off Screen
V.O. = Voice Over
EST = Establishing Shot
INT = Interior
EXT = Exterior
POV = Point Of View
INSERT = A Camera Shot Usually Focusing On An Object



Chris returns to the roulette wheel area to find the place is in utter chaos. Dozens of people are cheering Danny on as he gambles. They have giant FOUR-LEAF CLOVERS pinned to their lapels and many wear GREEN DERBIES on their heads.

A huge stack of multi-colored chips sits on the table in front of him.

Four Irish fellows with a fiddle, guitar, concertina and flute are sitting in chairs nearby playing an Irish reel, while a few of the crowd dance gaily around the table.

Chris can't believe the chaos she sees in front of her. When she left, the place was relatively quiet.

(to Chris; cheerfully)
Chris, can you believe this. A
bus tour from Ireland decided to
stop for the grand opening. I
think they're bringing me luck.

He grabs a fistful of chips and dumps them on the tray of a passing Native American waitress.

(continuing; in the brogue)
Drinks all around for me Irish

A raucous cheer erupts from the Irish tourists.

Danny looks at the bewildered Roulette Dealer and acquires a thoughtful expression.

You know, I'm getting a little
bored with this. Would you be
insulted if I tried another game?

The man shakes his head, no. From the look on his face, it is obvious he would be very glad to see Danny leave.

Chris looks around furtively. Obviously, she is worried.

Danny. You're drawing a lot of

Danny rakes his chips into a basket and winks at her.

That's the general idea.

He walks away from the roulette table and the boisterous Irish crowd follows.


Danny strides up to an empty craps table and dumps the entire basket of chips unceremoniously onto the tabletop. He loudly regales the crowd.

One roll for everything!

The Irish cheer loudly.

Danny snatches up a pair of red dice lying on the green felt table and motions for the crowd to be still.

Silence quickly falls.

Danny tosses the dice onto the table, and they strike the far bumper wall.

The dice come to a stop showing the numbers six and one.

A literal roar of jubilation shatters the silence and the Irish fiddler begins to play another reel. The other musicians sit in chairs beside him and join the dance tune.

Danny storms around the table goading the crowd to even greater heights of enthusiasm.


A pair of observers are watching the dice table on a monitor.

The FIRST OBSERVER is worried by what he sees and turns to a FOREMAN standing nearby.

Boss. There's a guy on the floor
who is really on a streak. He hit
the roulette table for over seven
thousand and he just rolled a seven
on the craps table.

Don't worry. Streaks end.


1) The dice hit a five and a two. Seven. A winner.

2) The dice hit a four and a three. Seven. A winner.

3) The dice hit a six and a one. Seven. Another winner.


Boss. I've never seen such a streak
of luck in all my life. You'd better
take a look at this. He's close to
thirty thousand dollars now.

The foreman now turns to the screen and looks intently at Danny.

Is he palming dice on us?

FIRST OBSERVER No. I've been watching his hands.

At that moment the slick lawyer and David Longtree walk into the observation room.

What's going on?

There's a guy at the craps table
who is on a roll. He's hitting
us hard.

Zoom in. Let's take a look.

The security camera pans the crowd taking in faces. It passes Chris who is standing at the back, dour and bewildered.

David Longtree suddenly lunges forward and takes control of the computer mouse in the first observer's hand. He clicks it and the monitor provides a close up of Chris's face.

It's the woman from the restaurant.
The guy at the table must be her
partner from that screwy tabloid.

He looks towards the slick lawyer who appears to have been taken off guard by this turn of events.

I have to admit, they've got balls.
(gives a sly grin)
But my guess is their luck just
ran out.


Danny is joyfully playing to the crowd who can't get enough of him. The music from the Irish band is reaching a crescendo. People are dancing about and clapping.

Danny holds a pair of dice into the air and spins around in place. He then extends his arms out to either side, shoulder high in a grand gesture and shouts above the din of noise.

How about one more roll?

The Irish roar with approval.

Before he can toss the dice onto the table, a hand reaches out and grabs Danny's arm, stopping the game.

The cheers of the crowd gradually subside and the music tapers off until there is an uneasy silence.

Danny turns his head slowly and stares into the malevolent eyes of David Longtree.

That's it. You're just too lucky
for us, paleface.

(lowering his voice)
I was wondering when you were going
to show up.

The slick lawyer arrives at Longtree's shoulder.

Hey, fellows, I'm just trying to
raise enough cash to buy something
I want.
(leans towards Longtree)
Actually, three things. But I'm
not sure I have enough yet.

David Longtree pries the dice from Danny's fingers.

Sorry. I have to think about the
good of my people.

Oh yeah. The good of your people.
I'm sure that tops your agenda.

If you have a complaint, we can
talk in private.

(shaking his head)
No. I like lots of people around.

The two men look at the mass of Irish faces, staring at them. They know they can do nothing here.

I just came here to roll the dice
fellows. How about it? Can't I
have one more roll?

I think not.

Danny looks disappointed. Then, an idea appears to dawn.

How about this? I put everything
on the table. Double or nothing.
I hit a seven, I win. Anything
else, the house takes it all back.

The CRAPS DEALER chimes in.

All he's been rolling are sevens.

David Longtree looks at the craps dealer, then back at Danny.


A five and a two. Any other
numbers and you win.

Sir, if he hits that, he walks away
with a hundred thousand dollars.

David Longtree is angry, but he cannot believe Danny would make him an offer like this. He extends his hand suddenly towards the craps dealer.

A new set of dice.

The craps dealer reaches into his box and hands Longtree another pair of dice.

Longtree drops them into Danny's waiting palm.

Nobody is that lucky.

Danny looks at the dice in his hand and tightens his fist around them.

He takes a short step towards Longtree so their faces are only inches apart. He speaks so softy no one else around the table can hear him. He is smiling slyly.

Luck doesn't have anything to
do with it.

The smile fades and Danny stares into Longtree's eyes with grim, even hateful, determination.

While the two men's eyes are locked in a battle of wills, Danny tosses the dice nonchalantly towards the craps table.

The dice land on the table. It is a five and a two. Danny wins.

A roar erupts from the crowd of Irish and the music from the band begins anew.

David Longtree and the slick lawyer stare in disbelief.

Danny draws his face close to Longtree's left ear so he can be heard over the noise.

You bring what I want. I bring
the money. Then, if I were you,
you, I'd find another place to do
business. They say Columbia is
nice this time of year.

Danny retreats slowly, never taking his eyes off David Longtree's face.

There is pure hatred written in the thug's eyes.

Danny points a finger at Longtree as though it is a pistol and "squeezes off a round."

Call me.

David Longtree is literally shaking with rage as he stares after Danny.


The light is fading in the evening sky as the audience sees a huge auto junkyard. There are thousands of rusting car and truck bodies stacked into enormous mounds.

Chris' small compact car drives into the salvage yard.


Chris looks around uneasily and turns to Danny on the passenger side. Between them is a large METAL SUITCASE that contains the money.

Danny, this is a really BAD idea.

You always worry too much. Come
on, let's go get Rene.

He grabs the suitcase and opens the passenger side door.


Danny hops out of the compact car with suitcase in hand and strides towards the heart of the junkyard as though he doesn't have a care in the world.

Chris partially exits on the driver's side and looks around fearfully. She hisses after him.


He walks away at a good clip and, reluctantly, Chris follows.

Danny hasn't gone far into the junkyard when, from behind a stack of flattened cars, out steps John Whitefoot followed by two thugs who have the look of foot soldiers for a Columbian drug lord. All are armed with AUTOMATIC MACHINE PISTOLS.

Terrified, Chris hurries to Danny and stands behind him.

Danny appears completely unperturbed. He holds up the suitcase.

The money for the little girl.
That was the deal.

Whitefoot nods - a signal to three more thugs who appear at Chris and Danny's back. One snatches the suitcase and the other two press pistols to their heads and roughly shove them towards a METAL BAR thrusting out of a junk heap.

Oh, my god! Oh, my god!

The two thugs produce a pair of handcuffs and hastily fasten them to the left wrists of Danny and Chris. The other ends are hooked to the metal bar.

The first thug hands the suitcase to John Whitefoot who puts it atop a nearby BARREL and opens it. All of the money from the casino is inside.

The second thug sweeps an electronic wand over Danny and Chris while John Whitefoot checks the case's contents.

You have the money. Where is
my niece?

They're clean. No wires.

The girl is safe with my employer,
Mr. Ramirez.

And where, exactly, would I find
Mr. Ramirez?

Whitefoot looks over at him coldly.

I'm not at liberty to say.

I thought we had a deal?

John Whitefoot pulls a large skinning knife from a scabbard hidden under his jacket.

Deals change.

Whitefoot feels the razor-sharp blade of his knife.

There is some information my employer
needs from the two of you.

Why don't we just go over to his
place and talk to him face to face?

Danny stares into the sky as though in deep thought.

Nine thirteen Westmoreland Road.
Hoffman Estates. Right?

John Whitefoot looks at one of his thugs nervously.

Danny reaches with his free hand into his back pocket and produces a WALLET.

You weren't being very cooperative,
so I snatched your wallet.

Whitefoot reaches for his back pocket and finds nothing.

Danny pitches the wallet onto the ground in front of him.

Chris cuts her head in Danny's direction, as surprised as everyone else by this trick.

That's a real good trick. How'd
you do that?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Whitefoot casually picks the wallet up from the ground and examines it. There is an ominous sound to his voice.

Tricks won't save you.


There is a banged up hulk of a car lying on the ground nearby. Suddenly, the dented hood of the car opens and snaps shut by itself three times in rapid succession.


Startled, all of the gunmen wheel around and point their weapons towards the auto hulk, but there is no driver. They glance at one another in confusion.

When they turn back to their prisoners, Danny has disappeared. His handcuffs dangle from the pipe beside Chris. They are still locked shut.

Whitefoot snaps his head from side to side looking for Danny.

Where the hell did he go?

A stunned Chris stares at the handcuffs open mouthed; then she also looks around for Danny.

John Whitefoot is furious and gestures to his men wildly.

Spread out. Find this guy!

What about the girl?

Whitefoot strides resolutely over to a terrified Chris and tests the handcuffs.

She isn't going anywhere. Come on.

The entire gang of hoodlums exit in a desperate search for Danny.

In a panic, Chris begins fighting with her handcuffs, desperately trying to free herself.

Danny appears at her back and whispers, startling her.

Can I help you?

Chris stares at him in wonder and whispers furtively.

How did you get away?

Danny dangles a small set of KEYS in the fingers of his right hand.

When I lifted his wallet, I also
took the keys to the handcuffs. I
have what I came here for - I
know where they're holding Rene.
Shall we go?

Danny unlocks the cuffs and chuckles as though all of this is an enormous joke. Chris looks into Danny's face with a mixture of terror and confusion.

Danny snatches the suitcase full of money from the barrel.

Chris follows him fearfully.

The two of them run through the maze of scrap metal heaps.

Danny stops and cuts his head sharply over his left shoulder. He GRINS as though privy to some secret information; and then he motions for Chris to follow him O.S. right.

This way.

Danny suddenly stops, grabs Chris by the arm and jerks her down inside the hulk of an OLD VAN.

As they crouch there, hidden from view, a pair of thugs run by searching vainly for them.

Danny looks out from hiding.

Come on.

They resume their getaway. Danny leads them across an open area of the junkyard until he hears the SOUND OF AN IRISH WHISTLE playing a lament. He slows to a stop and listens as though transfixed by the tune.

Chris pauses a few steps ahead and comes back to him.

What's the matter? Where do we
go now?

Danny appears to be in a daze.

Don't you hear that?

Hear what?

He turns his head to the left and stares O. S. He appears frozen in place.

Chris grabs his arm and shakes it. She is desperate.

Danny. Come on. We've got to go.

The Faerie Regent is in a remote area of the junkyard blowing a wooden whistle. When he stops and looks up, staring into the distance. There is a strange slyness to his expression and cunning in his tone of voice.

That's right boy. Forget the human
world. It is nothing to us. Come
to me. Come to me, boy. Join the
faerie host for all time to come.

The Regent blows the whistle again and the poignant tones drift across the sea of scrap.

Chris is by now distraught. She is unable to make Danny move from one spot. All her shaking of him is to no avail.

Danny, snap out of it. Where do
we go from here?

Chris turns away for a moment, slipping to the corner of an old panel truck a few feet away and looking both ways to see if anyone is coming. When she again looks in Danny's direction HE HAS VANISHED FROM SIGHT. Only the suitcase full of money remains on the ground.

(continuing; searching
Danny! Danny!

Finally, she gives up, grabs the suitcase and begins to run blindly.

The Faerie Regent plays his whistle until he sees Danny approaching from behind a stack of crushed metal cubes that once were cars.

Danny walks towards him like a somnambulist and the Faerie Regent grins at him broadly. HE coaxes Danny forward.

That's good, boy. That's right.
Come to me now. The world of man
is without meaning. Heed only the
voices of the faeries.

Chris is running blindly through the junkyard holding the suitcase when John Whitefoot steps from cover about thirty feet behind her.

Whitefoot raises his pistol and fires a single shot into her back that sends Chris sprawling face first onto the ground.

Danny is almost within reach of the Faerie Regent who has his arms and clawed fingers extended to catch him forever when the shot RINGS OUT in the distance.

Danny cuts his head abruptly in the direction of the noise and there is a look of horror on his face.


Chris raises her face with great difficulty from the dirt. She is critically wounded.

(a death rattle) Danny . . .

Her face falls hard into the dust.

In an instant, Danny's face reacquires its faerie form. But this is not the benign face that looked back from the mirror in the newsroom of the Midnight Star. This is the DEMONIC side of a faerie, a creature of dreadful power. The horns surrounding his head are twice as long as they were before, like a crown of spikes. The scales on his forehead are thick and pronounced. He has fangs, a long, witches chin and sharply pointed ears. His skin is a pale shade of green and a thick, bony ridge takes the place of his eyebrows, a "V" that gives him a pronounced, perpetual scowl.

Danny, his eyes full of hate, HOWLS in the direction of Chris.


John Whitefoot's five Columbian thugs appear in the clearing near Chris' body. Whitefoot carries the case full of money in his left hand. His pistol is still in his right hand.

The woman is dead. Has anyone
seen the guy?

Several thugs shake their heads, no.

There's a million places to hide
in here.

Then start searching, dammit.
Find him and kill him.

The junk cars piled all around them suddenly appear to come to life. HEADLIGHTS, even cracked ones, begin to flash on and off. HOODS open and close by themselves. HORNS blare. The noise is deafening.

The thugs are confused, unable to comprehend what is happening. They raise their weapons in alarm.

As quickly as it started, the noise abruptly stops. The junk cars grow still, and there is no sound in the salvage yard. The faces of the thugs reflect fear and confusion.

There is a low GROWL, like the snarl of a hungry tiger.

John Whitefoot wheels and sees a dark figure standing in the shadows of a mass of steel.

What the hell is that?

He raises his pistol and fires twice; but when he lowers his gun, he looks bewildered. Obviously, he missed his target.

The first Columbian thug is standing alone watching in the direction where he first saw the shadowy figure.

There is a GHOSTLY BLUR of motion as something speeds by right to left. FIVE DEEP GASHES, like cuts made by incredibly sharp claws, appear down the man's back. The first Columbian thug CRIES OUT IN PAIN and twists to one side.

(in pain)
Something cut me.

The other men stare first at him and then in all directions, searching for an invisible enemy.

The first thug stiffens. His entire body begins to SPASM. A green foam pours from his mouth. He drops to his knees, falls face first onto the ground and lies still.

Another growl is heard in the shadows and, instinctively, the frightened men turn and fire in that direction. They stop, and all is silent again.

A second Columbian thug is staring at the shadows in terror. Suddenly, a pair of wickedly clawed hands appear from behind him, grabbing him across the face and the side of his skull.

The powerful hands snap his head sharply to the right and there is a loud CRUNCH as the man's neck is broken.

Whitefoot and his three remaining thugs turn quickly, but all they see is their comrade standing alone with his head sharply skewed to one side, his arms by his side. The second thug crumples to the ground dead.

What the hell is going on?

There is the noise of a motor revving loudly and the third thug cuts his eyes left.

An old, flatbed, utility truck, its windows so stained with dirt and grime that they are opaque, has roared to life. It thunders towards the third thug on flattened tires, and the man, caught in its headlights, raises his hands and SCREAMS.

The utility truck slams into the Third Thug, violently crushing him into the wall of scrap metal at his back, and the machine goes still again.

The three surviving hoodlums open fire on the utility truck and a hail of bullets splatter glass and burst holes in the metal body.

Tentatively, the fourth thug approaches the bullet-riddled vehicle. He yanks open the door and finds no one inside the cab. First, he looks back at his comrades and then into the darkness, towards the rear of the vehicle.

DANNY From out of the darkness, a large metal girder comes swinging towards the fourth thug. It is attached to an overhead cable and Danny is riding it like a surfboard.

The end of the girder slams into the fourth thug carrying him instantly O.S. left.

John Whitefoot and the fifth thug fire after the girder until their bullets are spent.

I'm getting out of here!

As the man turns to run, there is a HISSING NOISE in the air.

The man stares ahead with a blank expression. Then, he slowly looks down. There is a five-foot length of angle iron jutting through the middle of his chest.

With a look of complete incredulity on his face, he drops to his knees and then crumples to the ground.

John Whitefoot stares for an instant in horror at his last man, and then, hears the growl again at his back. He wheels and raises his pistol.

Danny, the demonic faerie, strides slowly into the open, eyes fixed upon Whitefoot.

The thug discovers that he has fired his last shot. The breach of his automatic pistol is locked open. He tosses the handgun aside and yanks out his skinning knife.

Danny circles the man, staring at him with hate.

You humans have forgotten so much
about my people or you would have
known . . .

John Whitefoot watches Danny like a cornered animal, knife at ready.

Danny stops and straightens. He glances into the sky above his enemy and gives him a wicked grin.

Whitefoot follows his stare and to his horror sees a panel truck hanging from the metal claw of an overhead crane about a hundred feet above his head.

Danny waves a clawed hand. The metal grapple releases the panel truck and it plummets towards the earth.

(staring up in horror)

The truck crashes to the earth creating a cloud of dust as it crushes Whitefoot.

Danny appears to relax. He strides slowly over to the truck and places a clawed hand against the truck's crumpled metal side. Danny stares down as though addressing Whitefoot underneath, and utters the next words as a curse.

. . . NEVER break a bargain with
a faerie.

There is the sound of a pair of HANDS CLAPPING slowly together, O.S. Danny wheels to see the Faerie Regent standing a few feet behind him, smiling.

Very good, boy. Very good indeed.
You've learned to control your
powers. The transition is complete.

The Faerie Regent turns about in place motioning with extended arms at the piles of junk automobiles and scrap metal.

Look at this place. The human world
is no more than all of this. Its
creatures, mere scrap!
(he turns again to Danny)
There is nothing of value here but
the Faerie Host.

Danny's eyes drift towards the ground. He stands still, lost in thought, as he ponders those words.

Danny raises his head slowly and sees something in the distance.


The lifeless body of Chris lies face down in the dirt.


Danny has instantaneously returned to his human form. He stares in horror at Chris.

(a whisper of sorrow)

Danny rushes over to Chris and kneels beside her. He turns her over and draws her body into his arms.

Her face is covered in dust and Danny tenderly brushes some of it away.

No, Chris. You can't be dead.
(stroking her hair;
on the verge of tears)
It's my fault. I left you alone.

Danny turns angrily towards the Faerie Regent.

I could have protected her if it
wasn't for you. Bring her back.

The Faerie Regent shrugs his shoulders indifferently.

Why? Humans live such a short
time anyway. A blink of the eye
to us. What's the point?

Danny's face instantly reacquires the look of a demonic faerie.

Bring her back!

The Regent retreats a step, startled by Danny's instantaneous transformation and unbridled hostility.

I can't. I don't have that kind
of power.

The Faerie Regent reaches slowly into his pocket and draws out a large, golden ring that he holds in the open palm of his right hand so Danny can see it.

(continuing; speaks solemnly)
There is only one with the power to
restore life - the Faerie King.

The Regent tosses the ring towards Danny and it lands beside him with a THUMP.

Danny's face acquires again the shape of a BENIGN FAERIE as he stares at the gold ring lying on the ground.

THAT is the test. If you are the
one, YOU can bring her back, but
only so long as she does not pass
the gates of heaven. Then, it is
too late.

Danny is transfixed by the sight of the ornate ring. Slowly, he reaches for it, picks it up and examines it in front of his eyes. He looks again at Chris' face, resolutely grabs the signet ring and places it on the index finger of his right hand. As he does this, there is a rumble of DISTANT THUNDER and FLASHES OF LIGHTENING on the horizon beyond the scrap yard. A WIND begins to blow.

He rolls Chris close to his chest and his right hand disappears beneath her back. Danny's face becomes a mask of intense concentration. A shudder runs through his body.

Danny brings his hand out in a closed fist. When he opens his fingers, the mishapen bullet is in the palm of his hand. Danny pitches it aside.

Danny reaches dramatically behind Chris' head, burying the fingers of his hand in her dark hair. He draws his face within inches of hers while the rumble of the approaching storm grows markedly louder.

FLASHES light up the scene. There is a new intensity in Danny's eyes. He has a fanatical look on his face.

Chris. Hear me now. Listen to
my voice.
(his face draws close
to hers)
Go no further. Turn and come back.
Return to the world of the living.

The Faerie Regent watches Danny closely now. There is a close lightening strike and a loud crash of thunder. The storm is nearly upon them.

Danny grips Chris' thick hair tightly in his faerie hand and shakes her.

Listen to me! Come back. Come back!

Danny's body trembles violently. He GASPS, once, twice, three times. And, finally, goes limp as though exhausted.

He has reacquired human form and fights for breath as though he has just run a marathon. He lowers Chris' lifeless form to the ground and hunches over her, eyes closed.

Seeing this failure, the Faerie Regent straightens slowly. There is sadness and resignation in his voice.

You are not the heir.

Danny does not appear to hear the old faerie. He is only thinking of Chris.

(fire in his human eyes)
NO! You won't die!

The gnarled, clawed hands of a MALEVOLENT FAERIE snatches Chris by the hair of her head and grabs her shoulder forcefully. Danny literally yanks her limp body to within inches of his face, which is now skewed to the demonic side more than ever. The longest spikes on his skull stick out a full four inches. He looks like an enraged gargoyle from the side of an ancient castle. There is a grim, violent determination written on his face.

A howling wind roars through the junkyard.

(spoken slowly, resolutely)
Hear me child of flesh and bone,
OBEY the words of the faerie tome.
From the light of death, to the
shades of life
Come back - come back to this
world of strife!
(spoken fiercely with
ever rising volume)
Let your soul crave rest in
another time;
This night, I claim your soul
for mine.
By all the powers of the Slooa She,
I command you now, RETURN TO ME!!

Several bolts of lightening strike the hulks of cars around them sending a blast of sparks into the air and causing the old faerie to duck for safety.

Chris stiffens and gasps for air; and then her entire body begins to SPASM VIOLENTLY. Her limbs FLAIL WILDLY.

Danny grabs her forcefully and draws her tight against his chest, holding her in a vice-like grip so she won't do harm to herself accidentally. He presses her head tightly against his left shoulder so her face is turned towards the earth. Chris cannot see his face from this angle, which has returned to its BENIGN FAERIE form.

Slowly, she grows calmer, and pants for breath.

It's okay. It's okay, Chris.
I have you. Shhh. You'll be all
right. Be calm.

Chris at first fights Danny's grasp, striking at him, and then, as she begins to recover she grows still and clings to him as a child might a parent.

Her eyes flicker open at last. She stares at the ground, disoriented at first, and then, begins to recognize where she is. She sighs heavily and tears fill her eyes.

Oh, Danny, it was so beautiful.
There were flowers everywhere - and
little children. They were so happy
I heard you call me, but I didn't
want to come back.

Chris clutches his clothing and rubs her face against his sleeve, her head in the crook of Danny's left arm. She begins to sob; and then, she stops crying as a recollection dawns.

There was a gate. I wanted to go
through it so badly, but a woman
stopped me. She was very beautiful.
Somehow I knew her.
(her eyes widen)
It was your mother.
(hugging Danny tightly)
She wanted me to tell you that she
was so sorry for all that happened,
and she asked you to forgive her.
She said it was wrong to ever have
given you up. She said she loved
you, and she was waiting for you.

Danny closes his eyes and tears run from his benign faerie eyes as he holds Chris lovingly.

Chris has another recollection from the other side. There is an intensity in her face as she stares at the earth. She is trying to remember something important.

And there was something else.
She wanted me to give you a
(wrinkles her forehead)
She said you hadn't been forgotten.
That the world wasn't made for HER.
It was made for YOU.

At that moment Chris pries herself away from Danny and turns her face towards his. When she sees his benign faerie shape, she is stunned. She pushes out to a full arm's length and looks at him totally perplexed.

Danny. You've looked better.

Then, Chris turns her head to the left and sees something O.S. that is even more startling.

Sweet Jesus!

As flashes of lightening illuminate the junkyard, more than a dozen faeries join the Regent. Some are male. Some are female. All are about Rene's size, although thicker of body and having the odd faces of faeries.

They form a line, grow very still under the flashes of lightening and study Chris and Danny intently.

Your brothers and your sisters.

Danny eyes this bunch with suspicion.

One of the older faeries steps out and turns to the others. He is agitated.

Look at him! He is tainted with
human blood. We can't serve this
- this BASTARD!

Danny's face instantly reacquires the look of a DEMONIC FAERIE.

He angrily thrusts an arm outward, fingers splayed apart, palm facing the ground.

The elder brother suddenly appears to be caught by some invisible force. He stiffens rigidly, legs together, arms at his side, and begins to tremble violently from head to toe. Try as he might, he can't break free of Danny's magic net.

Danny slowly turns his hand from palm down to palm up.

The elder brother rotates in place until he is facing Danny.

Danny closes his hand into a fist in a quick motion.

The elder brother arms cross tightly against his chest.

Danny, a snarl on his lips, snaps his clawed index finger down towards the ground.

It is as though a rope tied to the faerie's ankles has been yanked from behind. He falls like a plank, face first onto the ground with a loud THUD, causing a small cloud of dust to rise. He lies there still, unable to move.

Danny releases Chris, rises and walks slowly, resolutely towards the faeries. When he reaches the side of his fallen brother he stops and stares at each of his faerie kin in turn.

(continuing; softly)
Are there any other challengers?

The other faeries look nervously at one another. Obviously, there are none.

(continuing; authority
in his voice)

Immediately, the faeries drop face down and place their foreheads on the ground.

Your majesty, the emissaries will
come soon. There is a matter of
tribute. The law of the angel bands
requires it.

As I recall, the law also requires
my family be present for this
reunion. Half of my family is
missing. The HUMAN half.
(staring into the distance)
Go to the holy place and wait for
me. Tell the emissaries I'll be
there soon.

Danny strides away with a deadly resolve in his step. He stops abruptly and looks over his shoulder towards Chris.

Chris is sitting on the ground with her legs straight in front of her and her hands on her thighs. Her eyes are wide open and dart from one side to the other taking in this eerie scene. But her head doesn't move. She is unnerved.

Danny has returned to his human form. He smiles warmly.

Shall we go?


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Fan Fiction

Brad Renfro

In this script, Brad Renfro plays the part of Danny. To read a brief biography, go to Brad Renfro >>.

Janeane Garofalo

In this script, Janeane Garofalo plays the part of Chris. To read a brief biography, go to Janeane Garofalo >>.

Irish mythology says there were once three bands of angels. Following a war in heaven, one group fell into hell and became demons. Another, not good enough to stay in heaven nor bad enough to become demons, were banished to Earth and became "The Faerie Host." These angels could take human women as lovers, and their offspring sometimes had magic powers.

Danny (Murphy) Giovanetti, a copywriter for "The Midnight Star," a newsstand tabloid of the absurd, doesn't know it, but he is half human and half faerie. In fact, his father was the most powerful faerie of all: the king of the third angel band.

While Danny is writing testimonials about alien abductions and his friend Christine Ross is dreaming of a big story that will get her hired by a "real" newspaper, an event of monumental proportions has occurred. Danny's biological father, the faerie king, has died, and his offspring are searching for his replacement. Succession isn't merely hereditary. A test of power is involved, and all of the king's legitimate heirs have failed it. So, the faeries come for Danny, whose life is suddenly turned upside down by their attempts to capture him.

As human friends and family members come to the conclusion that Danny is losing his mind, his powers of magic begin to emerge. By accident he grants his friend Chris her dearest wish, the biggest story to hit Chicago in decades. A drug cartel is using a local casino to launder money and both police and government officials are involved.

Realizing millions of dollars are at stake, a Columbian drug lord sends his henchmen to deal with the threat to his plans and, inadvertently, triggers the ultimate transformation in Danny from human to faerie. Danny is, indeed, the faerie king, the most powerful of his kind, and, like all faeries he can be both angelic and demonic in behavior.

A climatic battle pits supernatural power against bullets, the drug lord and his accomplices against Danny and the faeries. Danny ascends to the golden throne of the Faerie Host and faces the emissaries of the other two angel bands. At that meeting the ultimate purpose of human existence is revealed. Chris sees the biggest story of all time unfold in front of her eyes, but, unfortunately, she will not be permitted to write it. The Faerie King is more than an action comedy. It is a sweeping tale that addresses eternal issues such as hope, love, family ties and the struggle between good and evil.

Select any one of the links below to go to another part of
The Faerie King >> 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Children's author, singer, tankerman, newspaperman, John H. Leeper has help many positions in his 55 years on this earth.
To see a photo and learn a little more about him, go to John H. Leeper >>

  |   1 | 2 | 3 | 4   |  

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