Harvest/Transcript

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Harvest (Transcript)
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(Scene opens with Salad Fingers pulling out a small dead plant.)

Salad Fingers: This year's grand feast is certain to be a disaster. I'll be the fool of the town. (Sticks his fingers into the ground)

Oh, mother of life! Builder of my body. I await your caring arms and the warmth of your teat.

(He looks around in silence for a moment, then pulls out a wrapped up finger puppet. He unwraps it.)

Take the carcass of my diminished companion, Melvin Wishcake. A rotten friend, no longer fit for finger.

(Salad Fingers submerges the puppet into the sand.)

May his body seed the loins of your womanhood.

(The ground begins to shake, before a large live plant erupts from the floor.)

Grandmother Growth! You must have lost all faith in this broken soul.

(Grandmother Growth slides some of it's tentacle-like vines into Salad Finger's mouth, then reveals it's own mouth to be full of moving eyeballs. Salad Fingers plucks one out and eats it. Grandmother Growth then suddenly shrivels and dissolves into dust. Salad Fingers then strokes a large stone in the ground.

I trust you'll be attending the luncheon.

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers stands shirtless in front of his mirror with Hubert Cumberdale, and a curved branch.)

Salad Fingers: We'll be seating guests from the higher society. This is our chance to ascend.

(He scratches his back with the stick.)

Hubert Cumberdale! Have you been utilizing the naughty stick again? (Sniffs the stick) Well it smells like you. Dirty, rotten pleasure-hound you are! Such filth will take you right to the beast.

(Tears roll down the puppet's cheeks, before Salad Fingers tosses it onto the bed behind him. His back then grows a crude face to speak.)

Boy Fingers: L-Listen to your father, Hubert. He knows what's best.

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers is strolling through the land.)

Salad Fingers: "Dear Lady Etheridge, I formally invite your attendance..."

The face on his back grows into Boy Fingers and rips through his shirt to speak.

Boy Fingers: Dear lazy Eskendale, your awful appendix died yesterday! Plarp plarp plarp.

Salad Fingers: I must ask that you hush! Pipe down, sunshine. One set of sentences is quite enough.

(An arm sprouts from his back and slaps Salad Finger's head tauntingly.)

Boy Fingers: Walk faster.

Salad Fingers: Yes, you're precisely right. I seem to have lost motion.

(Salad Fingers is seen walking very slow, like in slow-motion.)

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers is sleeping in bed at night. Boy Fingers peeks out of the blanket and pulls himself from Salad Fingers, now with a full body as he crawls out from under the sheets to the end of the bed, waking Salad Fingers up. Boy Fingers keeps his back turned.)

Boy Fingers: Hello, Mr. Fingers.

Salad Fingers: Hello, Miniature Mr. Fingers.

Boy Fingers: You look delicious.

Salad Fingers: I am delicious. M-M-Mother says that I am the tastiest boy in the park.

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers and Boy Fingers are in an unknown room, possibly the kitchen. Boy Fingers is sitting in a small bath tin, as Salad Fingers sings gibberish words and preforms some sort of spell or ritual on him.)

Boy Fingers: Bulo.

(Salad Fingers sprinkles what looks like dried faeces onto Boy Fingers.)

Salad Fingers: Well, you're a daring soonstress, aren't you? We'd best get you in training, squirtybox.

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers is standing a few feet from a tree, with Boy Fingers, who is now wearing clothes, and is now half his height.)

Salad Fingers: The great sand floor holds all of the good people. Twenty hundred hundred hundred footsteps towards the glowing circle in the sky is the Edge of Forever, where, uh, Naughty-master forbids any further travel.

(They both start walking back to the house. It cuts back to them inside.)

Salad Fingers: The High Duchess will be attending from Slugwater Palace. What a perfect dream.

(Salad Fingers is sitting, as Boy Fingers is sweeping the floor.)

B-Broom harder. W-We'll get a slog's worth out of you, m'laddo.

(Boy Fingers is then seen dipping a paintbrush into a bucket of black sludge, then painting the walls.)

Perhaps we'll need a fresh set of skirting boards, too. Heh. Hm. Oho!

[new scene]

(Both are sitting in the same spot as Salad Fingers was in the beginning, as he pulls out another dead small plant.)

Salad Fingers: Well... uh, the vegetable selection is rather paltry. (Eats the plant) Or... non-existent.

(Boy Fingers looks into a telescope.)

Boy Fingers: Ah, ah... Lady Etheridge spotted on the horizon!

Salad Fingers: Oh, soft Mr. Boy Fingers, how am I to teach you my trade in such limited moments?

Boy Fingers: Use the moon's reason as your wisdom. I've walked your dreams for decades. I've observed you.

(They stand and turn their attention to the stone in the sand.)

Salad Fingers: This is Bartholomew Degryse. He's sensitive to terms regarding the hardening of skin, so tread carefully.

Boy Fingers: May I fetch him indoors to catch his warmth by the log fire?

Salad Fingers: It'd be rude not to.

(Boy Fingers lifts the heavy "Bartholomew Degryse" from the floor and carries it with Salad Fingers back to the house.)

[new scene]

(The stone is sitting in front of a lit fireplace. Salad Fingers is sitting on a sofa with Marjory Stewart-Baxter, Hubert Cumberdale and Jeremy Fisher, all on a coffee table.)

Salad Fingers: It's important for you chaps to be on your best behavior for soft Mr. Boy Fingers. Uh, he's part of the family.

(Boy Fingers is seen behind Salad Fingers with the stone, lifting it high before striking him in the head, knocking him to the floor in a bloody mess. Boy Fingers just stares, the stone now on the floor with Salad Fingers as he lifts his head in pain.)

Salad Fingers: Ooooh. Bartholomew Degryse! What a pleasure. I'm honored.

(His head flops back to the ground, Boy Fingers looking on in silence.)

[new scene]

(Salad Fingers wakes up in a large boiling caldron, his skin now pale and peeling. Boy Fingers is stirring the caldron with a large staff.)

Boy Fingers: Must you keep fidgeting? You'll knot up your buggery bits.

(Salad Fingers nibbles on a finger, the bone on the tip now visible. Boy Fingers gives him a small smack on the finger with a spoon.)

Mr. Fingers! It's not ready yet.

Salad Fingers: I'll need to show you where we keep the spare towels, and of course, Hubert's swollen ankle requires ointment.

Boy Fingers: Don't worry, dear. It's all taken care of.

Salad Fingers: I do most apologize. It's all in your hands now. Give my regards to the colonel.

(Salad Fingers slowly sinks into the boiling water, playing the beginning notes of "The Last Post," before being fully summered.)

[new scene]

(The remains of Salad Fingers are now on a dish. Each of his cooked limbs slices neatly. Boy Fingers is sitting at a table with the cooked meal with Bartholomew Degryse, Marjory Stewart-Baxter, Hubert Cumberdale and Jeremy Fisher joining him.)

Boy Fingers: Well, the guests are 15 minutes late, uh, and it's going cold, so I'm just going to start.

(He picks up one of the cooked fingers and begins to eat it.)

Bartholomew Degryse, settle down! Uh, I do hope this isn't the start of another one of your "episodes". Honestly, I just don't have the patience.

(The scene zooms out with Boy Fingers eating the remains of Salad Fingers in silence.)

[END]