[Opens to a dark room inside of Salad Fingers house. He's sitting on a stool. The room is empty.]
Salad Fingers: Hello. Today I'm having a-a little get together with my friends. He heh.
[Salad Fingers lifts up his hand to show three finger puppets on his fingers.]
Salad Fingers: Oh, h-he-hello there, chaps. You arrived earlier then I've expected. Heh. And might I say, you are looking rather splendid this evening. Eh, hm he.
[Salad Fingers then names the puppets one by one.]
Salad Fingers: This is Hubert Cumberdale, Marjory Stewart-Baxter, and this is Jeremy Fisher. Say... say hello. (Makes weird mouth noises with his tongue.) I wonder what you taste like.
[Salad Fingers puts Marjory Stewart-Baxter's head in his mouth, and licks it.]
Salad Fingers: Marjory Stewart-Baxter, you taste like sunshine dust! Heh, hoh.
[Salad Fingers puts Hubert Cumberdale in his mouth next, but quickly removes it in disgust.]
Salad Fingers: Ew! Hubert Cumberdale, you taste like soot and poo! (tears roll down his face) I-I've got a fish in the oven, I-I-if anyone's interested. Allô Nabilah, Comment t'appelles-tu? Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (Translated from French: Hello Nabilah, What's your name? What's the matter?)
[Screen cuts to the outside of Salad Fingers house. A frightened child in a white shirt and black trousers walks near the house. Salad Fingers is watching him through a crack in the wall.]
Salad Fingers: Help! Help me!
[The child turns his attention to the house.]
Salad Fingers: Help!
[The child enters the house through the open door. He walks around, looking for the voice. He finds Salad Fingers.]
Salad Fingers: Oh, thank goodness. I-I-I think the heavens must have sent you.
[Salad Fingers is seen holding open his oven door. Inside the oven is a fish. Salad Fingers is still wearing his finger puppets.]
Salad Fingers: I've got a fish c-cooking in the oven, but I-I just can't reach it. I-it's right in the back. With your supple, little frame you might be able to squeeze in and get it for me.
[The boy stares at Salad Fingers with a scared expression, but he walks into the oven.]
Salad Fingers: It is right at the back.
[Salad Fingers and stares with a worried expression, as his voice pitch gets higher.]
Salad Fingers: I-I-I can't thank you enough f-for co... cou... coaugh.
[Salad Fingers attention changes to a rusty nail sticking out of the wall. He awe's, as he lets go of the over door, which closes it. He gets closer to the nail, and strokes the nail, and stabs his finger into it, making him bleed. He moans in pleasure, and makes weird noises.]
Salad Fingers: I like it when the red water comes out.
[Salad Fingers skin color goes pale, as he gets weaker and weaker due to blood loss.]
Salad Fingers: I like it when the red water comes out of my...
[Salad Fingers passes out as the screen fades to a dream he's having. He appears to be in a room or a walk in freezer with large meat hanging off of meat hooks.]
Salad Fingers: Awww, yeah.
[Salad Fingers starts to sing 'Somewhere over the rainbow' by Harold Arlen as he walks down the room.]
Salad Fingers: ♪ Somewhere over the rainbow, wa-way up high, there's a land that I've heard of once ♪-
[Salad Fingers notices a life sized Hubert Cumberdale in front of him.]
Salad Fingers: Hubert Cumberdale! Fancy seeing you here.
[Hubert Cumberdale just stares blankly at Salad Fingers. He then makes a sudden loud screech noise. Salad Fingers proceeds to rub a rusty spoon on Hubert Cumberdale's face, then continues to sing while walking down the room again.]
Salad Fingers: ♪ Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. ♪ (Stroking a piece of hanging meat, then stroking the bloody meat hook.]
[Salad Fingers wakes up from his dream. weary. His skin is still pale, and the room is smoky.]
Salad Fingers: ♪ Somewhere over the rainbow... oh. I-I must have dozed off.
[Salad Fingers is holding a rusty spoon, and his finger puppets are of the ground. There is a puddle of blood under him. He sniffs the air.]
Salad Fingers: That fish smells about done.
[The scene cuts to the oven, smoking.]
[END]
| Salad Fingers Episode Transcripts |
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