221. Paradise - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE RETREAT, THAILAND - DAY


• THE RETREAT is a small, all-vegetarian resort on a rocky peninsula of the island Kho Tau, which is only accessible only by boat.


• The Retreat is built into the rock of the peninsula itself, the cabins a symbiosis between rock and wood.


• The main is built into a large opening in the rock, it's main support an ancient tree that grows up through the stone ceiling.


• WICKER sits in the lobby's loft, a small library built into the higher branches of the tree.


• He sits at a small wooden table, sipping apple-lychee juice and watching the waves wash in over the rocky beach.


• A long boat approaches the shore, its motor put-putting as it draws close.


• The BOATMAN sits by the large outboard motor, his face obscured by a dark hoodie.


• The boat's only passenger is a woman, DEATH, in a stunning white dress.


• Her graying hair stands in sharp contrast with her youthful face.


• Wicker follows her with his eyes as she walks up to the entrance and then up into the loft.


• She walks towards him, running her fingers over the row of books.


• He takes a deep breath.


• DEATH
• Hello Wicker.


• WICKER
• Huh, well, I didn't think I go this way.


• DEATH
• More peaceful than you expected?


• WICKER
• Something like that.


• DEATH
• I can arrange for something more...colorful.


• WICKER
• Oh no, this is fine.


• DEATH
• You know, I like you, so...I'll give you a chance to push this back a bit; say three years. Name the game.


• Wicker looks blankly at her.


• She gestures impatiently with her hands.


• WICKER
• Uh, rock, paper scissors?


• DEATH
• That's a first. Ok. First to three wins?


• He nods.


• They face each other.


• WICKER
• One, two, three.


• They throw.


• The both come up with paper.


• DEATH
• One, two, three.


• Wicker beats death, scissors to paper.


• WICKER
• One, two, three.


• She beats him, paper to rock.


• DEATH
• One, two, three.


• He beats her, paper to rock and her face twists.


• WICKER
• One, two, three.


• He beats her again, scissors to paper and she grunts in frustration.


• DEATH
• Well done, how about first to five?


• WICKER
• Five years?


• DEATH
• Done.


• WICKER
• One, two, three.


• He beats her with rock to her scissors.


• DEATH
• Best to seven, just two more.


• He smirks.


• DEATH
• Ten years.


• WICKER
• Sure.


• She smiles in a strange way and Wicker goes a bit pale.


• DEATH
• One, two, three.


• She beats him paper to rock.


• He takes a deep breath.


• WICKER
• One, two, three.


• He beats her rock to scissor and smiles, regaining his balance.


• She gives a slight shake of her head.


• DEATH
• One, two, three.


• She beats him, scissors to paper.


• He sits down in his chair and looks out over the ocean.


• WICKER
• Ok.


• DEATH
• Hubris does it every time, dear.


• WICKER
• You planned this?


• She shrugs innocently.


• DEATH
• Sleep well.


• She strokes her face, then turns and walks down the stairs leaving the loft and back to the long boat.


• Wicker watches her leave as his eyelids grow heavy.


• The boatman starts up the engine and begins to pull away as Wicker slumps onto the table.


• FADE TO BLACK.