WARP - The MASK

[Iggy McSnurd]

Iggy here:

Ok, here's another WARP.  This one is from "the Mask" by Michael Fallon
and Mark Verheiden.

I thought Neville Longbottom would be perfect to replace Stanley Ipkiss
because, let's face it, they lead the same kinds of lives and deserve
the same chance to make their lives better (or, at least, get back at
the people who mistreat them).  This takes place, of course, after he
has left school.  (As a side note, McGonagall gave him a graduation
present in transfiguring Trevor into a pet dog for him.)

Enjoy!  (And get writing some of these... *grin* Let's not have Kerry as
the only other person out there WARPing...)

Iggy McSnurd


Scene from "the Mask" by Michael Fallon and Mark Verheiden.
(WARPed by Iggy McSnurd)




INT. HOGWARTS HALLWAY - NIGHT
 
Neville's wet shoes SQUEAK as he tiptoes past -
 
APARTMENT "A" - MANAGER
 
A sign that reads "Quiet Please" hangs from the doorknob. Neville 
continues past it to Apartment "B". Just as he removes his keys - 
the Manager's door flies open and MRS. DURSLEY appears. She's an old 
dragon in hair curlers who will probably live forever just to spite her
relatives.
 
MRS. DURSLEY
Longbottom! Do you have any idea what time it is?
 
Reflexively, he looks at his (now empty) wrist.
 
NEVILLE
Actually, no.
 
MRS. DURSLEY
It's three o'clock in the morning!  First, you wake up the entire
building laughing it up with your pals. Then, you come in and start
squeak -
(sees puddles)
My new carpet! Just look at that!  This is coming out of your cleaning
deposit Longbottom!
 
Neville, battered, bruised and soaking wet is deep in urban shell-shock.
 
NEVILLE
(softly)
Are you done?
 
MRS. DURSLEY
...Yes.
 
NEVILLE
I think I'll be going to bed now.
 
Mrs. Dursley SLAMS her door.
 
INT. NEVILLE'S APARTMENT - CONTINUES
 
Small, full of books but very neat. A few cherished animation cels from
1940s Muggle cartoons are framed on the wall. As Neville locks the door
behind him - he's greeted by TREVOR, a happy little terrie sized mutt
with a big heart.
 
NEVILLE
Hello, Trevor.
 
Trevor gets so excited he starts GAGGING and COUGHING.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
Easy, buddy. I missed you too.
 
Neville pats Trevor on the rump, crosses his tiny kitchenette and 
heads straight into...
 
THE BEDROOM
 
Neville's prized collection of "golden Age" Looney Tunes Muggle tapes 
are neatly displayed on a simple bookshelf.
 
He tosses the Mask down on his bedside table, pops one of his 
cherished Tex Avery cartoons into the V.C.R., plops down on his 
bed and starts to strip off his shoes and socks.
 
TREVOR
 
enters, holding a Frisbee in his mouth.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
C'mon, Trevor. I'm beat.
(to the dog YIPS)
Okay, okay. One throw.
 
Neville tosses the Frisbee into the air. The disk sails...
 
OUT OF THE BEDROOM AND INTO THE HALLWAY
 
Trevor runs it down, leaps up, and makes a perfect catch. He trots back
to the bedroom, and drops it in Neville's lap.
 
NEVILLE
Easy. This is the best part.
 
On the screen a cartoon dog ZZZIPS into frame and drops a frizzing stick
of dynamite down a bad guy's pants. KA-BOOM! The dog LAUGHS 
maniacally.
 
Suddenly there is a POUNDING on the wall that rattles Neville's framed
cartoon cels.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
(calls out)
Sorry Mrs. Dursley.
 
With a sigh, he ejects the tape and a much quieter talk show POPS 
on. Rita Skeeter and a guest.
 
Neville rises and crosses into the bathroom to wash up.
 
ANGLE ON T.V.
 
Skeeter's guest, Guilderoy Lockhart, is replying to a caller.
 
LOCKHART
That's correct. The truth is we all wear masks, metaphorically
speaking. We repress the Id... our darkest desires and hide behind a
more socially acceptable image of ourselves in order to cope with the
frustrations of our day to day lives.
 
Neville's only half listening though the open bathroom door as he 
brushes his teeth.
 
NEVILLE
Think I'm repressed, Trevor?
 
Neville tries a couple of fierce expressions in the bathroom 
mirror, his mouth foaming with toothpaste.
 
Trevor does that doggie-head-cocked-sideways "What the hell?" look.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
(half-heartedly)
Nah.
 
He spits and rinses.
 
ANGLE ON T.V.
 
as Skeeter wraps it up, displaying the Lockhart's book.
 
RITA SKEETER
The book is "The Masks We Wear,"
by Guilderoy Lockhart. Thank you
Mr. Lockhart.
 
Neville pops off the T.V. with his remote.
 
NEVILLE
No thank you, Mr. Lockhart.
 
As he buttons up his P.J.s, Neville notices Trevor warily sniffing 
at the strange Mask, which is still lying on the bedside table. A 
subtle SHIMMER crosses its surface. Trevor WHIMPERS and quickly hops off
the bed.
 
We now begin to hear the "Mask Theme"... echoes of the POUNDING 
Viking drums... growing louder. Haunting whispery VOICES seem to 
call to Neville as he slowly crosses to the bedside. He picks up 
the Mask and turns it over in his hands running his fingers 
across the time work wood. The music builds...
 
He turns back to the bathroom mirror and slowly raises the Mask 
to his face. Trevor watches apprehensively from beneath the bed.
 
For an instant - the MASK SHRINK WRAPS like a vacuum over 
Neville's head. We hear the PIERCING MASK SFX.
 
Then, a beat later, the Mask is off with a POP. The SFX STOP.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
Whoa.
 
Neville studies the old mask, then his own face in the mirror. 
Everything's status quo. It must have been his imagination.
 
NEVILLE (CONT.)
Naw...
 
He puts the Mask on again - firmly this time. Trevor dives under 
the bed as...
 
AN INCREDIBLE METAMORPHOSIS BEGINS:
 
RUBBERY WOODEN WHIPS shoot out of the Mask and wrap around 
Neville's head - locking the Mask in place.
 
NEVILLE'S PAJAMAS magically reweave themselves... growing in all 
directions.
 
HIS HEAD THROBS AND EXPANDS, turning lime green as it unites with 
the Mask.
 
NEVILLE GRABS HIS HEAD - His body begins to move uncontrollably.
 
Spinning faster and faster like a gyroscope. The SFX get loonier 
and loonier as he becomes...
 
A HUMAN TORNADO. Neville's words are almost unintelligible as his 
voice jumps one, two, five octaves.
 
NEVILLE
Hellllllllppppmmmmmmmeeeeeeeee...
 
A HAND reaches out of the twister and locks onto the bedpost. The 
whirlwind SCREECHES to a halt, causing sparks and smoke to rise 
from the singed carpet. The smoke clears revealing...
 
THE MASK CREATURE
 
He's dressed in a snazzy dress robes - a distortion of the paisley 
material of Neville's pajamas.
 
The head is no longer Neville's. It's large, bald and bright 
green. The huge bug-eyes glow with mischief. The nose is small, 
bony and beaked. 
The mouth and teeth are enormous and gleaming white as he breaks 
into a learning grin.
 
The overall effect is devilishly loony, but not altogether unhuman. In
fact, there's something downright charming about him.
 
The Mask checks himself out in the mirror and likes what he sees.
 
THE MASK
S-s-s-nazzy!
 
He SNAPS his collar with a crazy gleam in his eyes.
 
THE MASK (CONT.)
It's party time!
 
INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT
 
Trying to be VERY, VERY quiet, the Mask tiptoes down the 
darkened corridor. The floor makes a barely audible CREEEEK as 
the Mask steps with exaggerated care pst APARTMENT "A" with it's little
"Quiet Please" sign. He raises a finger to his lip, making the "SHUSH" 
sign.
 
Suddenly - and unexplicably - a ringing ALARM CLOCK leaps out of 
Neville/Mask's pocket and starts jittering down the hall.
 
NEVILLE/MASK
O, jeepers--!
 
Neville/Mask tries to snag the clock, but it bounces away every 
time. Frustrated, he pulls a full sized SLEDGEHAMMER from his 
pocket and starts POUNDING the floor in an effort to stop the clock. 
Glancing blows shatter the clock face and most of the works, but 
those bells just keep 
ringing.
 
The hammer, of course, slams craters the size of manhole covers 
into the floor and reverberates through the building like 
THUNDERBOLTS.
 
The door bursts open and Mrs. Dursley's angry face pops out 
covered in blue mud pack and framed in curlers. She gets one look 
at the Mask with his oversized carnival mallet raised over his head and 
SCREAMS bloody murder.
 
The Mask SCREAMS in response, his eyes bugging out on stalks and 
his mouth expanding to the size of a tuba in mock horror.
 
Mrs. Peenman's door SLAMS shut and reopens a beat later as she 
appears cocking an enormous shotgun.
 
MASK
Easy lady! I was just killin' time!
 
The Mask starts ricocheting off the walls HOOTING maniacal 
laughter as Mrs. Peenman lets loose with both barrels. KA-BOOM.
 
The Mask bounces off walls as Mrs. Peenman continues to blast 
away, and finally leaps straight out the window. KEE-RASH.
 
EXT. APARTMENT - NIGHT
 
Sending his body SAILING our through the air towards the street 
seven stories below.
 
NEVILLE/MASK
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-
 
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
 
SPLAT. Neville/Mask lands face up in the middle of the street. He 
slow... painfully starts to rise as a STREET CLEANING CARRIAGE 
turns a corner and RUNS DIRECTLY OVER HIM. The carriage disappears down 
the street as we HOLD on Neville/Mask's flattened body.
 
He raises one arm, grabs himself by the head and peels himself 
off the street. He shakes himself out with one sharp CRACK and 
straightens his dress robes. He's shocked to find a tiny SPOT on his
sleeve.
 
NEVILLE/MASK
Hey! You missed a spot!
 
As if on cue, a SECOND street cleaning carriage machine SLAMS into him
and 
RUNS OVER HIM AGAIN. This time he reinflates himself back into 3-D 
by blowing into his thumb and hops up.
 
NEVILLE/MASK
And next time, no starch!
 
Fully recovered, Neville/Mask starts down the street, strutting 
like a prize fighter.
 
VOICE
Hey mister...
 
Young Death Eater #1 hops down from his fire escape behind the 
Mask.
 
DEATH EATER #1
(grins evilly)
...You got the time?
 
The Mask turns to see he is surrounded by the Death Eaters. He seems to
be delighted by their presence, but now that they see his face, they're
totally freaked.
 
MASK
(wiggles eyebrows)
Why of course, Cubbie. I got all the time in the world!
 
He whips out his forearm (which grows large for emphasis cartoon-
style). It's covered with crazily spinning watches, CHIMING cuckoo
clocks and sun dials.
 
MASK
London, Paris, Rome, standard, substandard and no standards at all! And
for our English friends we have... Big Ben!
 
DEATH EATER #1
Big Ben?
 
 
Neville/Mask KICKS a nearby street post, snapping it in half and
sending a large decorative street clock PLUMMETING into the sidewalk. 
KA-BONG! It completely obliterates Death Eater#1. The other gang members
jump back in shock as the Mask races around the corner.
 
DEATH EATER #2
Get him!
 
The Death Eaters pull out flimsy, second-hand wands and race around the
corner into the alleyway.
 
INT. ALLEY
 
They come to a screeching halt as they discover Neville/Mask dressed as
a carnival barker. Multicolored lights and Calliope music come from out
of nowhere.
 
MASK
And for my next trick...
 
Long pink and blue balloons appear in Neville/Mask's hands and he
instantly goes into a frenzy of twisting and knotting them into an
elaborate balloon sculpture. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. SCREECH.
 
The Death Eaters are too stunned by the severe weirdness of all this to
do anything but stand there and stare. (These guys didn't get many NEWTs
in the first place.)
 
MASK (CONT.)
And viola! We have a giraffe!
 
Sure enough, he's created a first rate balloon sculpture. He hands it to
the biggest, dumbest Death Eater, who grins like a little kid upon
receiving it.
 
The Mask instantly goes into another flurry of motion, sculpting more
balloons. SCREECH POP.
 
MASK (CONT.)
A few more twists of the wrist and for you, Cubbie.
 
He hands this next prize to Death Eater#3.
 
MASK (CONT.)
A French poodle! And finally my favorite...
 
He goes into another flurry of motion.
 
E.C.U. - BALLOON
 
As the Mask pulls the ends of the knotted balloon, it straightens out
and MORPHS into...
 
MASK (CONT.)
A Mongolian Mini-Dragon!
 
A real one! He immediately sprays the Death Eaters with hot flames from
the mini-dragon's mouth. WOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!
 
The greasy Death Eaters dive for cover and scramble out of the alley
under a rain of fire.
 
Neville/Mask let's the mini-dragon fly away, intoxicated with his
newfound powers.
 
MASK (CONT.)
Wait a minute. This is incredible! Why, with these powers I could be an
Auror! I could fight dark witches and wizards... Work for world peace...
 
C.U. - THE MASK
 
MASK (CONT.)
But first!...
 
CUT TO:
 
EXT. RIPLEY'S BROOM FINISHING, DIAGON ALLEY - NIGHT
 
It's late, but there's still a light on inside.
 
INT. SNOP - NIGHT
 
Crabbe and Goyle, both woozy from drink, attempt to finish a card game.
A dozen empty beer bottles and two half eaten chili dogs adorn the
table.
 
Crabbe takes a big bite of his chili dog and pauses to regard it like a
true connoisseur.
 
CRABBE
Now these are serious chili dogs.
 
GOYLE
I know. Here's the proof...
(lets out a long BUUURP)
Aaah. Even tastier the secondtime around.
 
Crabbe leans forward and sticks out his index finger.
 
CRABBE
Hey Goyle, pull on my finger.
 
GOYLE
No way, man.
 
CRABBE
No, really. Go ahead.
 
GOYLE
Crabbe, don't...
 
Crabbe raises a leg anyway and rips off a nasty fart. BRAAAP!
 
CRABBE
(proudly)
That, my friend is the sweet smell of success.
 
GOYLE
(shrugs)
No style. I give it a five tops.
 
CRABBE
Okay, how about... Soprano.
 
Crabbe shifts his weight and hits an amazing high note. PWEEEEEP! Goyle
is impressed in spite of himself.
 
GOYLE
Fine muscle control.
 
CRABBE
And now for my grand finale, THX... The audience is listening!
 
Crabbe lets one loose in perfect sensurround.
 
Suddenly the front door EXPLODES inward. Neville/Mask stands there
SILHOUETTED like a gunfighter from a Clint Eastwood movie.
 
Crabbe squints into the light, unable to make out the mysterious figure.
 
CRABBE
Hey, 40 watt... we're closed!  Nobody's here.
 
MASK
Ah... but you're here.
 
Crabbe rises.
 
CRABBE
What I mean is...
 
He lets loose a sneaker to help make his point. POOOOT.
 
CRABBE
Nobody's here that wants to help you.
 
Neville/Mask now steps into the light.
 
MASK
But I'm here to help you.
 
Goyle and Crabbe's eyes go wide as they get a better look at their 
nemesis. Fear loosens Crabbe's sphincter and a last feeble bit of gas
escapes with a FWEEP!
 
Neville/Mask whirls about with a flourish and pulls two gleaming 
broomsticks from the wall.
 
MASK
Sounds like you have a little gas leak there!
 
There's a mad gleam in his eyes as he spins the broomsticks like two
huge pistols and SNAPS them to a halt.
 
MASK (CONT.)
We better do a few touch ups before you have some serious trouble.
 
The Mask TWIRLS out of frame like a human tornado.
 
Camera PUSHES IN past Goyle and Crabbe's shocked expressions into an
E.C.U. of the shop's lone oil lamp as it JIGGLES on its wire. We can't
see the mayhem, but we can hear wacky/bizarre sound F.X. as the Mask
whirls about the shop. WHIZ! SCREECH! BANG! AHOOGA!
 
GOYLE AND CRABBE
No!... Wait! Eeeeeyaah!
 
SLOW DISSOLVE TO:
 
As that light bulb becomes the morning SUN peaking over London's
skyline. CAMERA PULLS BACK through Neville's bedroom window...