Garth Marenghi's Darkplace (2004) s01e02 Episode Script
Hell Hath Fury
Mike stared in disbelief as his hands fell off.
From them rose millions of tiny maggots.
Maggots? Maggots.
Maggots, maggots, maggots.
Maggots.
All over the floor of the Post Office in Leytonstone.
Greetings, friend.
I hope you're sitting un-comfortably, on your sofa, or beanbag, if that's how you choose to live your life.
I'm Garth Marenghi, horror writer.
Everyone has a special talent.
Mine is being able to write, produce, direct, act, paint Other people are good plumbers, that's their gift.
When I wrote, directed and starred in Darkplace back in the 1980s, television was up cack alley and the inside of my head was its only ticket out.
This show could have changed the world.
But they cancelled it for a re-run of Who's The Boss? They were scared of my script's radical predictions.
I portended that by 2040, the world would see its first female mechanic.
Who knows, she might even do a decent job.
I wish her the very best.
Still, so much for possibilite French for possibilities.
Tonight, I take no small amount of pleasure in bringing you this forgotten episode of Darkplace, with interviews from my publisher, Dean Learner, who was there at its creation and didn't die or offend me.
Take this gift, sit back and enjoy what still points the way forward for humanity.
Love, loyalty, sacrifice and extrasensory perceptive telepathic psychokinetic powers.
Voici.
You're welcome.
I'm Garth Marenghi author, dream weaver, visionary, plus actor.
You are about to enter the world of my imagination.
You are entering my Darkplace.
Darkplace, Darkplace Darkplace, Darkplace, Darkplace Darkplacel It's always the same.
Have you ordered chicken? Yes, yes, of course I have.
How long have you been here? Three hours.
Try the fish.
How long is it going to take the so-called chef to cook this chicken? Sorry, I'm not really this bad-tempered.
I'm just really peckish.
I should be thanking you for looking after me.
No problem first days can be a real pain in the ass.
Who's that? He has a special aura around him.
That's Dr Rick Dagless MD, the world-famous GP.
He's a brilliant yet troubled man and I'm privileged to know him.
I'll introduce you.
The doctors want their chicken.
It'll be ready in five minutes.
What's going on with that chicken? Five more minutes.
Do you know what's going on? The word is it'll be five minutes.
I'll believe that when I see it.
Have you met the temp? I've not got time to shoot the shit.
Why don't you and your new boyfriend bring me some chicken? Hey! Are you all right? No.
I mean yes.
I deserved that.
Where's this flipping chicken? Who said that? Was it you, missy? I said five minutes.
But But nothing.
Women like you are the reason the chicken's late in the first place.
Goddamn son of a bitch.
This is great chicken, getting nothing but flak.
When's the chicken? The chicken's ready when I say it's ready.
Don't know why I'm cooking, I'm so angry.
Seasoning what do I need? Tarragon? Oregano? Never heard of it.
Italian seasoning? Too vague Sage? Son of a bitch.
If I had to call myself anything, and I hate labels, I'd say imaginer.
I call Garth the Orson Welles of horror.
And not just because of his weight.
He's a titan of terror I call him that as well.
There are rebels and there are innovators.
I'm a rebel.
I play a rebel brain expert who's in rebelliance against conventional logic, the world order.
The show is about rebelliance.
And if that's not being an innovator, I don't know what is.
My name is Dr Rick Dagless, MD.
I hadn't been getting much sleep lately.
Not that Darkplace lets you get much sleep.
The pillows are like cardboard and my duvet's all lumpy.
Got the call chef down and it can't wait till morning.
Poor guy ladle to the head and a fork where a fork don't fit.
This damned evil place was getting crazier by the day.
Morning, all.
Cheer up, Liz.
How's Chef? Guy's got a fork through his kernel.
He's gonna make it just, but the chicken's off.
That's a shame, I was looking forward to the chicken.
It seems we have a mystery attacker in Darkplace.
I suggest we split up you guys and the temp can search the wards, me and Liz will search this office.
Me and Sanch don't need a third wheel.
This temp was a personal recommendation of Won Ton's.
He wouldn't run if his ass was on fire.
He goes with you, and that's a deal-breaker.
Fine.
If he makes administrative errors, I'll bust his hump.
At least you're not going with Liz.
That's true.
Now get out of here.
God, I wish I was hitting the wards with those young bucks, but I'm old, tired, spent, busted, stuck in a mouldy old office with just a moody woman for company.
Liz, that bulb's gone again.
Could you fish another one out? All of us have untapped potential.
That's what the Garth Marenghi Foundation is about harnessing psychokinetic abilities in underprivileged kids.
We've got the full backing of the Army.
We've already got a child who's very intuitive.
I've seen Garth bend a fork, so he knows what he's talking about.
I mean we all have abilities.
I once learned how to hypnotise women, but with that power must come responsibility.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
I'll say one thing, he's very thorough.
All this started to happen when the temp arrived.
Android? I haven't seen him eat anything today and it's 1pm now so What shall we do? Just keep'em peeled.
We might need to kill him.
Uh-huh.
Bye.
Good gravy, a bunch of objects flying of their own accord in E Wing.
And apparently more objects are heading this way Goodbye.
Flying objects? It beggars belief.
We asked everyone if they're the attacker and they all said no.
So that's why we're searching the hospital basement? Exactly.
Dead we're too late.
Looks like our man struck again.
Negative this ain't a fresh kill.
It don't look like a kill at all.
Guy probably came down, got lost, went mad, ate his hands and died right here.
Come on, there's nothing we can do for him.
Keep close, these tunnels are really long and curving.
Hug the wall.
Aargh! What is it? Cordless iron.
Friggin'smarts as well.
Of course! That's why these are not conventional attacks.
What is it? I've got two words for you, Sanch telekinesis.
Teleki-what? Telekinesis.
Someone is propelling objects around this hospital.
But who, why and for what reason? I don't know yet.
People often develop these abilities when they feel angry or unappreciated.
How are you two doing? I'm fine, but I'm having to tread on eggshells vis-a-vis Liz.
She's got a face like the proverbial.
I think it's her time.
If I felt sorry for myself five days every month, this hospital would be up the creek sans paddle.
No-one gave me time off when I had troubles in a similar area.
She's a royal pain in the butt.
Ungh! Reed? It's the phone.
Reed! Dag Hello? LP519? This is Dagless, I repeat, this is Dagless.
It's ringing.
Knives, cutlery all over the shop! Everything bar the kitchen sink.
Oh, my God, kitchen sink and all! Jesus.
Can't hold these plates off much longer, Liz! Why not help instead of standing there dreaming about lipstick? Holy cow, it's you, isn't it? You're doing this.
I just hope Dagless makes it up here in time.
Split up, split up! Get a wriggle on! This way! See you soon, gang! Liz, I want you to be calm.
No, Liz.
No.
Reed? Jim, in here, quick.
Tell Dag, it's Liz.
OK, I'll get help.
And hurry! Aaaaagh! Aaaa-ha-haaaagh! Get me Dr Rick Dagless.
Aaah-haa-haaaagh! Aaaaagh! No! You again, you bastard.
What the? Life of its Damn thing's come alive in my hand.
Suck on that.
Whoa! Escaped it.
Filing cabinet.
In times of conflict, when you're up against an aggressor, be he human, be he inhuman, whoe'er he be, often he's both, you're running on adrenaline and that's what you have to capture in the mise en scene.
And then you add to that the supernatural element.
An eagle-eyed viewer might see the wires.
A pedant might see the wires, but if you're looking at wires, you're ignoring the story.
If you go to a puppet show, you can see the wires, but it's about the puppets, not the string.
If you go to Punch and Judy to watch the wires, you're a freak.
Yeah, it's me, Dag.
I've been cornered by some cutlery.
I think I can take them.
A whisk, a tin opener and a spatula.
I'll take the whisk out first and hold them off as long as I can.
Ah! I'm hit, I'm down.
Yeah, got me in the leg.
They'll be after you next.
Bye.
Let's do this.
It's just you and me now, kiddo.
Hello, Dr Rick Dagless speaking, how may I help you? Bye.
That was Jim.
He said Liz is the source of the telekinetic activity.
She's pinned Reed against the wall and is propelling objects around.
He added that I should hot-tail it up there, which means going back to where we started.
You stay here.
But Rick No buts.
There's a lot of clerical work ahead of you, don't blow it all by getting killed.
There's a lot of slow motion.
The episodes were running up to eight minutes under.
The only way to stretch them out was with slow motion.
And we tried to keep the slow motion away from the dialogue as much as possible.
Anything without dialogue was considered for slow motion.
I ran the only way I knew how, by placing one leg in front of the other in quick succession.
I had to help Reed, trapped in his office by a desk he could no longer trust.
I had to help Sanchez, locked in primal struggle'twixt man and whisk.
And I had to help the temp who was probably doing some filing or data entry.
I pressed on, chased by a stapler with my name on it.
This was unbelievable.
Liz was turning my own stationery against me.
What would she throw at us next? In God's name As I rounded the corner, I felt muscular and compact, like corned beef.
Irony of irony, all this paper meant more paperwork.
Look at that, Liz has even struck the kiddie wing.
If only there was a foundation to harness kids'psychokinetic powers.
This sorry madam was about to get a double dose of Darkplace Dagless medicine.
Liz, hide your shame.
Aaaargh! Argh-argh-argh! Argh-argh-argh! Argh-ugh.
Agh! Rick! Argh-argh-argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! No! I wanna say, you did a heck of a thing back there.
I'm sorry I busted your balls.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.
What's your name, son? Clive.
Strange name for an American.
I'm from Bermuda.
Oh, a British principality.
It's a dependent territory.
What's that? The Queen appoints a governor, but she's still de facto sovereign.
We had so much to teach each other.
I'm gonna miss you, Clive.
I'm gonna miss the banter which has fizzed from the get-go, and as I say, I'm gonna miss your balls.
I What? I I can't hear you.
I was supposed to file this.
I'll get Liz to do it first thing.
Under the circumstances, it's the least she can do.
Don't you dare die! No! I owe you all an apology.
Sanch Yes, Liz? Thanks for the lobotomy.
Not a problem.
Though extracting psychokinetic ability is in its infancy.
I guess being told I couldn't get a chicken supper was the last straw.
It was unprofessional and girlish.
It won't happen again.
Buns? I've seen a couple I fancy.
I baked them by way of apology.
So ends a chapter in a book I fear has yet to close.
Right, Dag? I just can't believe the temp is dead.
It's all right, Rick, we'll get another one.
It's not that.
I guess I liked the kid.
Reminded me of me at that age.
I was wild, full of ideas, knuckle to knuckle with authority, real Jimmy Dean.
Guess we were two peas punching it out in the same pod.
I just hope he realised how much he taught me, that it weren't just one-way traffic.
I'm sure if he'd had any breath left in his body, he'd have used it to thank you.
Well, you'd hope.
Come on, Dag, what say I buy us all a drink down The Drip.
I'd like that.
I could use a drink.
As long as it's not a screwdriver! Yes, I'd prefer a beer! Dear me! Oh, dear! Hee hee hee! We'd seen a new side to Liz.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
They can get upset at the slightest thing forgetting to acknowledge them in front of one's friends, or insisting on splitting a restaurant bill, even though that's only fair.
I'd have to try and change.
Tomorrow I'd tell her she'd lost weight, or her hair looked nice, whichever seemed more plausible.
I think what this episode shows is that the human spirit cannot be overcome.
As a writer, if you take away my paper, I would write on my heart.
If you took away my ink, I'd write on the wind.
It wouldn't be an ideal way to work.
Garth Marenghi's Darkplace is a Garth Marenghi production in association with Dean Learner.
From them rose millions of tiny maggots.
Maggots? Maggots.
Maggots, maggots, maggots.
Maggots.
All over the floor of the Post Office in Leytonstone.
Greetings, friend.
I hope you're sitting un-comfortably, on your sofa, or beanbag, if that's how you choose to live your life.
I'm Garth Marenghi, horror writer.
Everyone has a special talent.
Mine is being able to write, produce, direct, act, paint Other people are good plumbers, that's their gift.
When I wrote, directed and starred in Darkplace back in the 1980s, television was up cack alley and the inside of my head was its only ticket out.
This show could have changed the world.
But they cancelled it for a re-run of Who's The Boss? They were scared of my script's radical predictions.
I portended that by 2040, the world would see its first female mechanic.
Who knows, she might even do a decent job.
I wish her the very best.
Still, so much for possibilite French for possibilities.
Tonight, I take no small amount of pleasure in bringing you this forgotten episode of Darkplace, with interviews from my publisher, Dean Learner, who was there at its creation and didn't die or offend me.
Take this gift, sit back and enjoy what still points the way forward for humanity.
Love, loyalty, sacrifice and extrasensory perceptive telepathic psychokinetic powers.
Voici.
You're welcome.
I'm Garth Marenghi author, dream weaver, visionary, plus actor.
You are about to enter the world of my imagination.
You are entering my Darkplace.
Darkplace, Darkplace Darkplace, Darkplace, Darkplace Darkplacel It's always the same.
Have you ordered chicken? Yes, yes, of course I have.
How long have you been here? Three hours.
Try the fish.
How long is it going to take the so-called chef to cook this chicken? Sorry, I'm not really this bad-tempered.
I'm just really peckish.
I should be thanking you for looking after me.
No problem first days can be a real pain in the ass.
Who's that? He has a special aura around him.
That's Dr Rick Dagless MD, the world-famous GP.
He's a brilliant yet troubled man and I'm privileged to know him.
I'll introduce you.
The doctors want their chicken.
It'll be ready in five minutes.
What's going on with that chicken? Five more minutes.
Do you know what's going on? The word is it'll be five minutes.
I'll believe that when I see it.
Have you met the temp? I've not got time to shoot the shit.
Why don't you and your new boyfriend bring me some chicken? Hey! Are you all right? No.
I mean yes.
I deserved that.
Where's this flipping chicken? Who said that? Was it you, missy? I said five minutes.
But But nothing.
Women like you are the reason the chicken's late in the first place.
Goddamn son of a bitch.
This is great chicken, getting nothing but flak.
When's the chicken? The chicken's ready when I say it's ready.
Don't know why I'm cooking, I'm so angry.
Seasoning what do I need? Tarragon? Oregano? Never heard of it.
Italian seasoning? Too vague Sage? Son of a bitch.
If I had to call myself anything, and I hate labels, I'd say imaginer.
I call Garth the Orson Welles of horror.
And not just because of his weight.
He's a titan of terror I call him that as well.
There are rebels and there are innovators.
I'm a rebel.
I play a rebel brain expert who's in rebelliance against conventional logic, the world order.
The show is about rebelliance.
And if that's not being an innovator, I don't know what is.
My name is Dr Rick Dagless, MD.
I hadn't been getting much sleep lately.
Not that Darkplace lets you get much sleep.
The pillows are like cardboard and my duvet's all lumpy.
Got the call chef down and it can't wait till morning.
Poor guy ladle to the head and a fork where a fork don't fit.
This damned evil place was getting crazier by the day.
Morning, all.
Cheer up, Liz.
How's Chef? Guy's got a fork through his kernel.
He's gonna make it just, but the chicken's off.
That's a shame, I was looking forward to the chicken.
It seems we have a mystery attacker in Darkplace.
I suggest we split up you guys and the temp can search the wards, me and Liz will search this office.
Me and Sanch don't need a third wheel.
This temp was a personal recommendation of Won Ton's.
He wouldn't run if his ass was on fire.
He goes with you, and that's a deal-breaker.
Fine.
If he makes administrative errors, I'll bust his hump.
At least you're not going with Liz.
That's true.
Now get out of here.
God, I wish I was hitting the wards with those young bucks, but I'm old, tired, spent, busted, stuck in a mouldy old office with just a moody woman for company.
Liz, that bulb's gone again.
Could you fish another one out? All of us have untapped potential.
That's what the Garth Marenghi Foundation is about harnessing psychokinetic abilities in underprivileged kids.
We've got the full backing of the Army.
We've already got a child who's very intuitive.
I've seen Garth bend a fork, so he knows what he's talking about.
I mean we all have abilities.
I once learned how to hypnotise women, but with that power must come responsibility.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
Did you attack the chef? Thanks for your time.
I'll say one thing, he's very thorough.
All this started to happen when the temp arrived.
Android? I haven't seen him eat anything today and it's 1pm now so What shall we do? Just keep'em peeled.
We might need to kill him.
Uh-huh.
Bye.
Good gravy, a bunch of objects flying of their own accord in E Wing.
And apparently more objects are heading this way Goodbye.
Flying objects? It beggars belief.
We asked everyone if they're the attacker and they all said no.
So that's why we're searching the hospital basement? Exactly.
Dead we're too late.
Looks like our man struck again.
Negative this ain't a fresh kill.
It don't look like a kill at all.
Guy probably came down, got lost, went mad, ate his hands and died right here.
Come on, there's nothing we can do for him.
Keep close, these tunnels are really long and curving.
Hug the wall.
Aargh! What is it? Cordless iron.
Friggin'smarts as well.
Of course! That's why these are not conventional attacks.
What is it? I've got two words for you, Sanch telekinesis.
Teleki-what? Telekinesis.
Someone is propelling objects around this hospital.
But who, why and for what reason? I don't know yet.
People often develop these abilities when they feel angry or unappreciated.
How are you two doing? I'm fine, but I'm having to tread on eggshells vis-a-vis Liz.
She's got a face like the proverbial.
I think it's her time.
If I felt sorry for myself five days every month, this hospital would be up the creek sans paddle.
No-one gave me time off when I had troubles in a similar area.
She's a royal pain in the butt.
Ungh! Reed? It's the phone.
Reed! Dag Hello? LP519? This is Dagless, I repeat, this is Dagless.
It's ringing.
Knives, cutlery all over the shop! Everything bar the kitchen sink.
Oh, my God, kitchen sink and all! Jesus.
Can't hold these plates off much longer, Liz! Why not help instead of standing there dreaming about lipstick? Holy cow, it's you, isn't it? You're doing this.
I just hope Dagless makes it up here in time.
Split up, split up! Get a wriggle on! This way! See you soon, gang! Liz, I want you to be calm.
No, Liz.
No.
Reed? Jim, in here, quick.
Tell Dag, it's Liz.
OK, I'll get help.
And hurry! Aaaaagh! Aaaa-ha-haaaagh! Get me Dr Rick Dagless.
Aaah-haa-haaaagh! Aaaaagh! No! You again, you bastard.
What the? Life of its Damn thing's come alive in my hand.
Suck on that.
Whoa! Escaped it.
Filing cabinet.
In times of conflict, when you're up against an aggressor, be he human, be he inhuman, whoe'er he be, often he's both, you're running on adrenaline and that's what you have to capture in the mise en scene.
And then you add to that the supernatural element.
An eagle-eyed viewer might see the wires.
A pedant might see the wires, but if you're looking at wires, you're ignoring the story.
If you go to a puppet show, you can see the wires, but it's about the puppets, not the string.
If you go to Punch and Judy to watch the wires, you're a freak.
Yeah, it's me, Dag.
I've been cornered by some cutlery.
I think I can take them.
A whisk, a tin opener and a spatula.
I'll take the whisk out first and hold them off as long as I can.
Ah! I'm hit, I'm down.
Yeah, got me in the leg.
They'll be after you next.
Bye.
Let's do this.
It's just you and me now, kiddo.
Hello, Dr Rick Dagless speaking, how may I help you? Bye.
That was Jim.
He said Liz is the source of the telekinetic activity.
She's pinned Reed against the wall and is propelling objects around.
He added that I should hot-tail it up there, which means going back to where we started.
You stay here.
But Rick No buts.
There's a lot of clerical work ahead of you, don't blow it all by getting killed.
There's a lot of slow motion.
The episodes were running up to eight minutes under.
The only way to stretch them out was with slow motion.
And we tried to keep the slow motion away from the dialogue as much as possible.
Anything without dialogue was considered for slow motion.
I ran the only way I knew how, by placing one leg in front of the other in quick succession.
I had to help Reed, trapped in his office by a desk he could no longer trust.
I had to help Sanchez, locked in primal struggle'twixt man and whisk.
And I had to help the temp who was probably doing some filing or data entry.
I pressed on, chased by a stapler with my name on it.
This was unbelievable.
Liz was turning my own stationery against me.
What would she throw at us next? In God's name As I rounded the corner, I felt muscular and compact, like corned beef.
Irony of irony, all this paper meant more paperwork.
Look at that, Liz has even struck the kiddie wing.
If only there was a foundation to harness kids'psychokinetic powers.
This sorry madam was about to get a double dose of Darkplace Dagless medicine.
Liz, hide your shame.
Aaaargh! Argh-argh-argh! Argh-argh-argh! Argh-ugh.
Agh! Rick! Argh-argh-argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! Argh! No! I wanna say, you did a heck of a thing back there.
I'm sorry I busted your balls.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.
What's your name, son? Clive.
Strange name for an American.
I'm from Bermuda.
Oh, a British principality.
It's a dependent territory.
What's that? The Queen appoints a governor, but she's still de facto sovereign.
We had so much to teach each other.
I'm gonna miss you, Clive.
I'm gonna miss the banter which has fizzed from the get-go, and as I say, I'm gonna miss your balls.
I What? I I can't hear you.
I was supposed to file this.
I'll get Liz to do it first thing.
Under the circumstances, it's the least she can do.
Don't you dare die! No! I owe you all an apology.
Sanch Yes, Liz? Thanks for the lobotomy.
Not a problem.
Though extracting psychokinetic ability is in its infancy.
I guess being told I couldn't get a chicken supper was the last straw.
It was unprofessional and girlish.
It won't happen again.
Buns? I've seen a couple I fancy.
I baked them by way of apology.
So ends a chapter in a book I fear has yet to close.
Right, Dag? I just can't believe the temp is dead.
It's all right, Rick, we'll get another one.
It's not that.
I guess I liked the kid.
Reminded me of me at that age.
I was wild, full of ideas, knuckle to knuckle with authority, real Jimmy Dean.
Guess we were two peas punching it out in the same pod.
I just hope he realised how much he taught me, that it weren't just one-way traffic.
I'm sure if he'd had any breath left in his body, he'd have used it to thank you.
Well, you'd hope.
Come on, Dag, what say I buy us all a drink down The Drip.
I'd like that.
I could use a drink.
As long as it's not a screwdriver! Yes, I'd prefer a beer! Dear me! Oh, dear! Hee hee hee! We'd seen a new side to Liz.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
They can get upset at the slightest thing forgetting to acknowledge them in front of one's friends, or insisting on splitting a restaurant bill, even though that's only fair.
I'd have to try and change.
Tomorrow I'd tell her she'd lost weight, or her hair looked nice, whichever seemed more plausible.
I think what this episode shows is that the human spirit cannot be overcome.
As a writer, if you take away my paper, I would write on my heart.
If you took away my ink, I'd write on the wind.
It wouldn't be an ideal way to work.
Garth Marenghi's Darkplace is a Garth Marenghi production in association with Dean Learner.