Woodbine

Summary

The worst kind of joke is not one where no one laughs, but one where the joke-teller takes a violent, unyielding umbrage with your lack of mirth. The joke is on Grace when a not-so-funny artefact goes missing and someone from her past makes a sudden return. It’s really no laughing matter though when Lennox reappears, leaving her with more questions than answers. There’s no clowning around when he’s involved. Alright, I’ve run out of puns, I think that’s enough for this episode description.

Content Warnings: blood, violence, bodily harm

Transcript

GRACE_NARRATION: I find myself worrying about Bea. If I were a lesser vampire, I might say I’m obsessing. But she’s doing… I wouldn’t say she’s doing well, but she’s doing better. Better than she was, anyway. She eats. Sometimes. I haven’t seen her lunge at anyone out on the street. Yet. We’ve managed to get through over half of our conversations as of late without her snapping at me. She has some colour in her cheeks. She smiles. Sometimes. It’s progress. Still, I can’t help but worry. The person – being? – who tried to kill Bea is still out there. And I have been a coward. Bea has been trying to look into the attack, but there’s so little to go with. A mask. A coat. A smell. It… wears on her, understandably. And I haven’t told her I have a lead, because it required… a conversation I would rather have avoided. 

[SFX: Bea enters the office. There’s quiet talking from behind Grace’s office door as Bea approaches]

BEA: Grace, you here? Rhys has some expense reports from earlier that need signatures and- [SFX: she walks in and knocks on the office door, opening it a little and poking her head in] Oh, sorry.

GRACE: Excuse us, we’re just finishing up a meeting, if you could- 

LENNOX: -it’s fine. Any friend of Grace’s is a friend of mine. 

BEA: Don’t feel like you need to cut things short on my behalf-

LENNOX: Not at all. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.

BEA: Oh, hi, sorry, I’m Bea.

LENNOX: Bea! Grace’s “friend.” What a treat to meet you, Bea.

BEA: My reputation precedes me once again. 

GRACE: She has work to do, Lenny. 

LENNOX: I’m sure she does. Grace, thank you so much for taking the time to have me by. Let me know if you’d like to speak further. Things are so tense these days. Out there. In here, even. Either way, I’d like to help you and your… friend… keep safe in any way I can. 

GRACE: I’m aware, thank you. I’ll walk you out. 

LENNOX: No need. Small place, I can see the door. I’ll talk to you soon.

GRACE: Goodbye. 

BEA: Uh, yeah. Nice meeting you.

LENNOX: Have a good evening, Grace. Bea. 

GRACE_NARRATION: It feels a little bit like a cosmic joke. I promised myself that I would be better than Lennox, but in order to actually be better than Lennox, I have to talk to him. The conversation didn’t go as I’d hoped. He has a knack for finding a way under my skin and burrowing. By the time Bea walked in, I was at the end of my rope. He’s connected to this, to the person who hurt her… I can’t figure out how. It feels as though a truth is hovering on the edge of my periphery. Get your shit together, Grace. You and Bea can’t both fall apart. 

BEA: Sorry I came in. Who was that?

GRACE: No one. 

BEA: I’m guessing he wasn’t a client. 

GRACE: Absolutely not. 

BEA: A vampire. 

GRACE: You could tell?

BEA: His hand, when he shook mine, it felt different… smooth. 

GRACE: Lots of hands feel smooth, but… that is interesting.

BEA: Smooth and cool, and it…  tingled. It’s different from a regular person. Here, give me your hand. [SFX: she takes Grace’s hand] Do you notice anything?

GRACE_NARRATION: Her hand is warm and smells lightly of the palmarosa in her moisturiser. She’s always using it, even though she no longer needs to. Now it’s a habit, a nervous tick. I concentrate on the feeling of her skin on mine. A hum. And then, electricity. It shoots through my body. Everything around me lights up, shimmering like the long lost sight of morning mist at dawn. I haven’t felt this in a long time.

GRACE: Yes, tingly. Warm. Enjoyable. I can see why you’d like it. 

BEA: Well, if you ever need a pick me up, I can give you a high five. 

GRACE: Good to know. 

GRACE_NARRATION: Static engulfs me, pleasurable and disquieting at the same time. It’s muddling my senses, but I push the feeling down. I need to be present. For myself. And for her.

BEA: So is… Lenny? Lennox? Someone I should know about?

GRACE: Yes. 

GRACE_NARRATION: I haven’t spoken about this, or about him, for a long time. I wonder if I’m still punchdrunk from the effect of her touch, but… if he’s the threat I suspect him to be? She deserves to know. 

GRACE: Lennox… is indeed a vampire. The one that turned me, in fact. I… worked for him. With him. For a long time. Until I left. Over a decade ago, now, but to us… it’s not such a long time. 

BEA: So… he’s your… he is what you are to me? 

GRACE: I hope not. 

BEA: So why was he here? And what did he mean by “keep safe”? That sounds like a threat. 

GRACE: There have been some attacks lately on other vampires. Other people like us. He’s been trying to get in touch with me for a while now. 

BEA: Alright, I’m gathering that your relationship is not on the… best of terms. 

GRACE: That’s one way to put it. 

BEA: What happened? 

GRACE: We had… clashing philosophies. I was who he wanted me to be for a long time. Until I… couldn’t be anymore.

BEA: I think I’ll need you to clarify that point a bit more.

GRACE: It’s difficult for me to talk about.    

BEA: Alright. Can I ask what he does?

GRACE: At this point, he runs a multi-hyphenate conglomerate that runs a fair number of properties around the city – a couple restaurants, a series of spas, a boutique hotel, a ton of rental properties – but what the world doesn’t see is all the fingers he has in the… underground that we exist in. Blood bars, rentals for those who might have monstrous needs, there’s an entire world out there for the Living Impaired. When I left I was officially the Chief Operations Officer. 

BEA: And unofficially? 

GRACE_NARRATION: I should tell her. About the years I spent as his enforcer. About my first fledgling. Blood and death, blood and death. For years, it was all I knew. But I can’t tell her. I don’t even want to imagine how she’d react. Maybe I really am a coward. 

GRACE: What matters is that I left and I have no intention of going back. 

BEA: So you’ve been dodging his calls for the last decade. 

GRACE: It isn’t as simple as that. Lennox has… unorthodox methods of communication, sometimes. Had any weird dreams lately? 

BEA: I don’t like the implications of that one. 

GRACE: Me neither. Answer the question. 

BEA: I don’t know, does it count if this whole vampire thing feels like a fever dream that I’m going to wake up at any minute? 

GRACE: No. 

BEA: Then no, nothing outside the usual falling from great heights, teeth falling out, that kind of stuff. 

GRACE: Tell me if that changes. 

BEA: Alright, then why would you invite him here? 

GRACE: I told you I was working on a few leads about your case… 

BEA: My case? You think he had something to do with that? Why wouldn’t you tell me? Or involve me? 

GRACE: I don’t know anything tangible yet. There’s nothing linking him to the attack right now.

BEA: And what, you call him up and go, “Hey man, been a while, how’s the batlings? Funny question, did you try to gut my coworker? Inquiring minds must know.”

GRACE: Not in so many words.  

BEA: Grace, you have no right to be keeping things like this from me. It’s my life and my future that was taken away, that you made the choice about. 

GRACE_NARRATION: Her words are sharp, but her teeth are becoming sharper. 

BEA: I will not continue to live in the dark. 

GRACE: You’re right. 

BEA: I’m- what? 

GRACE: You’re right. I shouldn’t have kept that from you. 

BEA: Uh… yeah, no, you shouldn’t. So… good. 

GRACE: Great. 

BEA: So… what do we do now? 

GRACE: Do you want a snack? 

BEA: No.

GRACE_NARRATION: Liar.  

GRACE: [SFX: phone rings] Hang on. [SFX: she answers it] Woodbine Agency, this is Grace. … I’m sorry, who are you calling on behalf of? Can you repeat that? … Oh. Oh my. Yes… No… Can I put you on speakerphone? I’m here with my partner. 

BEA: Partner?

 

[SFX: The beep of the call being put to speakerphone transitions to a car horn honk and a busy Toronto intersection that they’re crossing]

BEA: Ah, I thought the name was familiar. I know this comedy club.

GRACE: Do you have a failed stand-up past that I have yet to hear about?

BEA: I’ve dabbled in lots of failures. You’re not taking me to an improv show, are you? Because you’ve done some fucked up shit lately, but that would be over the line. 

GRACE: What? No, no we’re here to see the client, remember? He’s an old “friend.” 

BEA: Why does the way you say “friend” sound so salacious? 

GRACE: Does it? How odd. [SFX: Grace takes out a bottle of perfume and spritzes an excessive amount of times] 

BEA: [SFX: coughing] So what kind of client and/or friend requires you to smell like a cosmetics counter exploded in your vicinity?

GRACE: Revisiting your stand-up career? 

BEA: I’m just saying that it’s strong. 

GRACE: It’s Tom Ford. … Hang on, is it really that bad? Can you smell my hair? 

BEA: It’s a little much, but… [SFX: sniffs] It smells nice. You always smell… really nice. 

GRACE: You’re sweet. Ok. Showtime. [SFX: They open the door and enter] 

BOX OFFICE PERSON: Hey. 15 bucks for tickets. Are you here to see Saved By the bell.hooks or Claw-Enforcement: A Garfield/Law & Order Crossover Spectacular? 

GRACE: Oh my. Those are certainly show titles. But no, no tickets for us tonight. We’re here to “see a friend about a rabbit.” 

BOX OFFICE PERSON: Oh. Oh! Of course. Right away, ma’am. Madame. Miss?

GRACE: Lead on. 

GRACE_NARRATION: The past always returns. It doesn’t wait for an invitation. It just shows up, banging at the door of the present. I haven’t been running from the men in my past. I don’t run. But I have been… delicately tiptoeing around some of them. But now I have Bea at my heels demanding answers, details, clarity. I am forced to answer the figurative, and sometimes literal, door to the past and confront memories. They aren’t all bad ones. In my long unlife, I’ve learned that no relationship is ever completely bad, even if it was… mostly bad. 

[SFX: The sound of the crowd dies away as they head down a hall and through a door then reach a door with a key pad that’s dialled in. Then there’s some sort of scanner at the last door, which opens with an ominous and definitive hiss.] 

BEA: Hey, did the Jean Cocteau arms touch you while you were walking down the hallway? Is it legal to have arms that hold lights? I feel like it’s against some sort of fire code. 

BOX OFFICE PERSON: Here you are! Have a great night! [SFX: they scurry away]

THE MAESTRO: Welcome, friends of magic. 

BEA: What the fuck- 

GRACE: The Maestro. As I live and breathe. 

THE MAESTRO: [SFX: he appears with a poof] Ah, it appears someone forgot to wash behind their ears!

GRACE: The old coin behind the ear trick! Your understanding that the classics are classic for a reason is always what made you such a true magician in my eyes. 

THE MAESTRO: Your admiration of my craft was always one of your more attractive qualities. 

GRACE: And you’re still a charmer. What has it been, two decades? Three? You haven’t aged a day. You look… so shiny. 

BEA: Yeah, are there any sequins left in Vegas? Because I’m pretty sure they’re all on your body right now. 

THE MAESTRO: Oh, pish. You know that I don’t care for looks. As the Great Aristotle once said, “The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.”

GRACE: Of course. And are you still with-… how is Desdemona?  

THE MAESTRO: Ah, my love. My light. Such… luminous brilliance, I could worship the very liquid in which she bathes. I would lap it up just for the privilege of having just a bit of her essence inside of me – if the acid wouldn’t scorch my innards. 

BEA: Sorry, I think I missed something. 

THE MAESTRO: But enough of the blathering of a love sick man. Come! You and your friend must join me in a drink. If I remember correctly… [SFX: a bar cart wheels over] AB+ with a splash of vermouth and a twist? 

GRACE: You remembered.

THE MAESTRO: The Maestro remembers everything. But of course, as the great Marcel Proust once wrote: “The memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment.” Although I have no regrets about my memories of you, Grace.

GRACE: How I’ve missed that brilliant mind of yours… 

BEA: Sorry to step in here, hi, I’m Bea. Your assistant called to say you need help, and we’re here to offer it, so if you want to let us know what is going on then hopefully we can get started. Possibly by tossing a bucket of cold water on one of you or both or whatever.

GRACE: Yes… Yes. Yes. Yes. Your assistant said that you had an issue with an artefact? 

THE MAESTRO: Ah. To business then. Well, as a wise man once said: “Life must be more than pleasure, for without pain how could we ever hope to taste the sublime?” 

BEA: Did you read that Byron quote in a self-help book?  

THE MAESTRO: No, my dear, that’s a The Maestro original. But of course I am not the brains of this operation. [SFX: two claps] Darling! The investigators have arrived!  [SFX: A door opens, and something clanks its way into the room. It’s DESDEMONA. She’s a brain in a vat hooked up with lots of wires to some kind of robot]

DESDEMONA: Greetings. Salutations. Commendations. Felicitations. Tell me, investigator: how does it feel to be encased in a sack of flesh day after day after day after day? Forever. Forevermore. Infinitely. In perpetuity.   

GRACE: Hello Desdemona, lovely to see you again. 

BEA: Grace, next time I need you to warn me when I’m going to be approached by a brain in a vat. 

THE MAESTRO: I would thank you not to speak of my Desdemona in that way!

GRACE: Desdemona prefers the term “disembodied.” 

BEA: I look forward to the HR complaint that’s going to get lodged. 

DESDEMONA: I am capable of speaking to my own physiological composition. The competent flesh bag speaks truth. Emits accuracy. Conveys veracity. I long ascended from my lesser mortal form. I evolved. I am more now. So much more than the likes of you could ever dream of. I will not diminish my verbiage to assuage your lesser intellect. I pity you, flesh bag. 

BEA: Oh, so she gets to call me “flesh bag” but I get in trouble for calling her “brain jar”? 

THE MAESTRO: Hush! She is the most beautiful mind I’ve ever encountered. 

BEA: Mr. Maestro-

THE MAESTRO: The Maestro. 

BEA: The Mr. Maestro.

GRACE: Bea, he is still a client…

BEA: Do you normally make googly eyes at your clients?

GRACE: Bea, please?  

BEA: Ok, alright, I’ll stop. But let it be known that I think I hate this more than improv. 

GRACE: Noted. Now where were we? 

DESDEMONA: A theft has occurred. A burglary. A larceny. Perhaps even a swindle. 

THE MAESTRO: We’re distraught, of course, but we simply have better things to do than to put our impressive collective intellect to this problem. And so we decided to outsource. I could hardly believe it when I heard that you’re a private investigator now, you came quite highly recommended. I had thought the only way you’d leave your position with Lennox’s company was with a stake through the heart-

GRACE: It was time for a change. That’s all. 

THE MAESTRO: Ah! As the great Winston Churchill once said: “To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often.” 

BEA: That was Cardinal Newman. 

GRACE: Indeed. Now, about that artefact-

THE MAESTRO: Of course. A very powerful item was stolen from this very building.

DESDEMONA: Our home. Sanctuary. Sanctum. Defiled!

THE MAESTRO: We’re not interested in the how – Desdemona found the flaw in our security systems within minutes of running a diagnostic. But I digress. We’d like you to find out the who and the why. And of course, we want the artefact returned to us. In the wrong hands, it could prove to be… very dangerous. It’s a recent acquisition of mine. You see, what was stolen was The Grimaldi Clown Nose. 

GRACE: [gasps] No!

BEA: Like a red “honka-honka” thing?

THE MAESTRO: [gasps] What an uncouth description of an object so… so powerful! Grace, the company you keep, your standards certainly have… slid.

BEA: Grace, remember how you asked if I wanted a snack-

GRACE: We’ll take the case. We’ll need all of the information you have on the night of the theft. 

THE MAESTRO: And so it shall be. We’ve printed out everything we know. [SFX: Desdemona hands over a file folder] 

BEA: We will be charging for incidentals, just putting that out there.  

GRACE_NARRATION: The Maestro owns and operates a chain of comedy and magic clubs all over the world, but that isn’t his real business. The Maestro deals in… objects. Very powerful objects. Some might call them charmed, but others might call them haunted, or even… cursed. He doesn’t keep them in a centralised location because he doesn’t want any one place to be an obvious target. Instead, he houses his treasures, scattershot, all over the world. No one but him, and I suppose Desdemona, know where they all are at any given moment. 

A breach in his highly regulated security system is… concerning, to say the least. And the consequences of the Grimaldi Clown Nose existing out in the world? Those are moreso. 

 

[SFX: transition to them walking away down a busy street]

GRACE: Say it.

BEA: I got nothing to say.

GRACE: You look like you have a moth trying to escape your mouth. Speak. 

BEA: So that’s your type? 

GRACE: What do you mean? 

BEA: The evidence presented and my skills of deduction would lead me to conclude that your type is grandiose and insufferable. It’s not what I expected, that’s all. 

GRACE: I take offence to that. I don’t have a type. I sample from all of the fruits in the garden of creation. My past lovers aren’t all insufferable. 

BEA: Ah! So you admit he’s insufferable. 

GRACE: It’s a part of his charm. 

BEA: Uh huh, and you and Maestro-

GRACE: The Maestro-

BEA: The you and the Maestro clearly had a thing going on at some point. [imitates Desdemona’s voice] I believe they once chose to fornicate. Make love. Have intimate and penetrative relations. 

GRACE: Must you be so crass? 

BEA: Yes.  

GRACE: Fine. Yes, the Maestro and I used to be “together”. Until… well, until he left me for Desdemona. I was devastated. 

BEA: Why?

GRACE: You’ve never had a lover who sucked all of the common sense right out of your body? 

BEA: I guess. I don’t know, I guess I’ve never really had that sort of… feeling before? There’s a lot to unpack here, but… the Maestro left you for that… literal brain in a vat.  

GRACE: He’s very evolved.

BEA: Can you have sex with a brain?

GRACE: I’ve never thought to ask. Besides, it wasn’t about sex. He said he’d “never met a more brilliant mind.” And who am I to compete with that? I only speak ten languages, invented the convection oven, and read most of the Library of Alexandria before it burned. 

BEA: Ok, come on.

GRACE: Maybe I embellished a bit on that last one. Fact check me, if you must, but the point is to keep a grip on his heart, I apparently  should have exposed my grey matter and let my vocabulary spill out on the table like a toddler with a cup of juice. 

BEA: [laughs] 

GRACE: What is so funny? 

BEA: This is a side of you I’ve never seen! Jealous, real weird about your even weirder ex. Reminds me that you’re still… human. Even if it’s deep down. 

GRACE: I am not jealous. … Ok, maybe just a small, tiny, miniscule smidgen. But can you blame me? You saw the way he slipped that coin out of my ear. You should have seen the other things he… slipped out of my body.

BEA: Good lord. 

GRACE: What? He once pulled an entire scarf out of my mouth. It was marvellous, I have no idea how he did it. 

BEA: Ok, I’m going to put a pin that, come back to it later, maybe after a few beers, but I’m going to need you to catch me up on this stolen artefact you guys were so shocked about. 

GRACE: It’s a mythological object rumoured to have belonged to the entertainer who popularised the white makeup clown face style – Joseph Grimaldi. It’s unlikely that the nose actually belonged to the real Grimaldi – because you were right before, it is a “red honka-honka thing,” which wasn’t actually a part of Grimaldi’s costume. The piece though has been a long rumoured item making its way around the world, leaving destruction in its wake. No circus that has seen its red glow has been left in one piece. It’s destructive. But, what is for sure is that a powerful charm has been placed on the nose. It’s rumoured that whoever wears it becomes a great performer, but what it actually does is instil an unnatural surge in confidence in the wearer… for a time.  

BEA: Then what? 

GRACE: The nose fuses to your face and you turn into an uncontrollable, homicidal maniac.

BEA: That’s a terrible joke. 

GRACE: But a hell of a punchline. Like I said, nothing leaves it unscathed. On the face of a struggling comedian in this city? It’ll be a massacre no amount of yes-and-ing can stop. Let me see what else is in the file. [SFX: flips through] Interesting. 

BEA: What’s you find?  

GRACE: The artefact was stolen from The Maestro’s office downstairs at the Comedy Club. Someone managed to dodge the cameras and bypass their security systems, while someone named… Travis Phillips, a.k.a. “Travis the Pretty Good” was onstage doing some kind of a one-man theatre show?  

BEA: I think it was just a standup set. 

GRACE: I must say, I don’t care for contemporary “comedy.” Once the performers stopped throwing pies at one another, I really lost interest. 

 

[SFX: Back at the office. A comedy set plays in the background on a laptop] 

RHYS: So… homicidal clowns, huh? Seems a little on the nose. 

BEA: Nice one. 

RHYS: Thanks. Do we really have to watch all of this? I don’t think we’re going to solve the elaborate clown nose heist by watching Travis the Great-

BEA: The Pretty Good. 

RHYS: -make jokes about how his mother never really loved him. 

BEA: Focus on the audience. Travis’s show and the one before it… The Goodest Showman? Everyone go to therapy. Those shows spanned the time that the nose went missing. Watch out for anyone leaving and coming back – or just anything else strange. 

RHYS: Is he trying to do magic?

BEA: Oh good lord, the Maestro is rubbing off on other people.

RHYS: It’s not good. He’s… that’s just a cheap smoke bomb, like one of those weird gender reveals. That cannot be good to set off in an enclosed space.

BEA: No, it seems very bad. Audience seems enraptured, though. Plus he can now send out his buddy in a shitty wig, pretending to be… Olivia Rodrigo, Wednesday Addams? I don’t know, it’s one of those two.

RHYS: Travis is… at the bar. Just waiting.

BEA: He’s chatting with the front of house person and… some other guy, tall one. Can’t get a read on him though, he’s got his back to us. That’s weird. But Travis is getting shots and… oh! That’s interesting. He took the front of house person’s keys. 

RHYS: Wait, did he? 

BEA: Watch. He’s a bad performer. But he’s got nimble fingers. They were on the desk and poof, now they’re gone. 

RHYS: Well shit. Olivia’s almost done, by the looks of it. So he’ll be going back onstage.

BEA: Yeah, but after that he can go anywhere in the bar, including through the locked doors towards the Maestro’s Lair. He must’ve done it during the next show. 

RHYS: I thought Grace said the security system was state of the art.

BEA: Yeah, but she didn’t say which movement. Dadaist, maybe. Zombie formalism. It’s fancy but they’re using… These are 1 gig SD cards. Are you kidding me?

RHYS: It’s fancy for 2003 I guess. 

BEA: Probably the last time Grace and this guy were together.

RHYS: Whoa, do you mean they dated? Like in high school?

BEA: Yeah. When they were younger. 

RHYS: Huh. He sounded like kind of a weirdo. I wonder if he was like that back then. 

BEA: Sounds like he was. 

RHYS: Hey, can I ask you something?

BEA: What?

RHYS: Do you think that Grace might be… y’know… 

BEA: Might be what?

RHYS: Like… our clients? 

BEA: … And what makes you say that?

RHYS: She’s just too… calm about all of it. Like maybe she’s a witch or something? And she employs powerless humans to give us the illusion that things are hunky-dory. 

BEA: I wouldn’t worry too much about Grace. 

RHYS: You think?

BEA: I’m certain of what she is. And she’s Grace, no more, no less. 

GRACE: Bea, can you come here, please?

BEA: Excuse me. [SFX: gets up, walks over]

GRACE: Close the door. [SFX: Bea closes it, sits down] You said you wanted to be a part of this so I’m letting you know that I was looking at security footage from the building from the night of the attack – the super gave me the files finally – and… here, give this a look and tell me if anyone looks familiar. 

BEA: [SFX: comes over to the laptop, clicks the video that starts playing] Hm. No… n-… yeah, yeah, stop there! That guy! That’s the guy who… who…

GRACE: Are you sure?

BEA: Yeah. Can you get a shot of his face?

GRACE: Unfortunately no, he doesn’t come into frame enough. 

BEA: But… yeah. I recognize the coat. He’s hunched over like he’s hiding something.

GRACE: If I had to guess, it would be because he’s covered in blood.

BEA: Yeah, that would make sense. Do we have any other info about this or him?

GRACE: I’ll take a few stills, spread them around my contacts, hopefully it’ll jar someone’s memory.

BEA: Do you think he’s… like us?

GRACE: It’s hard to tell. I want to say no, but that shuffle, it’s… odd. And he’s not just hiding his body. He’s hiding his face. 

BEA: I thought you said people like us aren’t horrible monsters and murderers. 

GRACE: Well they’re definitely humanoid. Whether or not they have anything to do with our world, that’s a different story. 

BEA: Are you going to ask your buddy Lennox?

GRACE: Don’t call him that. I’ll inquire, though. He’s… very connected. 

BEA: Still don’t want to talk about it?

GRACE: Eaten anything lately? 

BEA: Don’t change the subject.

GRACE: Give me mine, I’ll give you yours. 

BEA: Fine. Rhys and I have been doing our own research into your ex’s big red ball, by the way. I think we should start by talking to the comedian… Travis. He’s definitely got something up his sleeve. 

GRACE: Scarves?

BEA: No, but I have an idea that we can-… The guy on the screen wasn’t wearing a scarf! 

GRACE: Hmm?

BEA: He was wearing a scarf when he attacked me and now he isn’t in the shot. Where is it? Did we find one in the office?

GRACE: No.

BEA: Ok. I hope it didn’t end up in the trash somewhere. I need something to hold on to. For now, let’s deal with our funny boy. Guess what? He’s doing a show tonight…

 

[SFX: They’re at an improv show at the comedy club]

GRACE_NARRATION: There was a time when comedy was performed in venues that leant a bit of pomp and circumstance to such japery. Now, I find myself in a dive bar that reeks of mildew. I’m staring at a wine list that could best be described as “minimal” while Bea picks at the label on her beer. 

MC: Big round of applause for our opening act, the Toronto Maple Queefs… Dave, that name sucks. Now, please welcome to the stage… Danzig’s With Wolves! 

DRUNK GUY: Better… be better than the last one. BOOOOO. 

BEA: Uh, Grace?

TRAVIS: Thank you! Thank you! We’ve got a good looking audience today. And hey! What about our host, eh? Let’s give them a round of applause. 

DRUNK GUY: Yo, clown boy! What’s with the nose? 

BEA: Is that the thing?  

GRACE: Looking like it. 

TRAVIS: Can you believe she turned me down when I asked her out? I guess it’s true – the last time I was someone’s type was when I was donating blood in the blood drive. 

GRACE: Would have been a better joke if someone shoved a pie in his face.  

TRAVIS: Alright, I’m Travis, this is Jake, Mike, and that’s other Mike, and we are Danzig’s With Wooooolves! Let’s get this party started; I need suggestions from the audience now. Someone name a place, any place. 

DRUNK GUY: YOUR MOM’S HOUSE. 

TRAVIS: Great, I heard a dentist’s office! Now can I get an occupation? 

DRUNK GUY: The guy who’s slamming your mom! 

BEA: This is going well. 

TRAVIS: Uh huh, uh huh, I heard… an accountant! Ok, one last thing, I need a beautiful woman to join me on the stage. Are there any in the house? How about… you! 

BEA: Oh, no, no thank you! I’m fine!

GRACE: No no, this is good.

BEA: How is this good?!

TRAVIS: Alright, the sullen girl in the shiny pants, come on up! Ladies and gentlemen, can we please give it up for our volunteer! 

GRACE: I think it is the Grimaldi Nose. Look at him, he has far more confidence than he should. Just get close enough to grab it off his face. I’ll clear the room.

BEA: You’re not actually asking me to do this. 

GRACE: I am. And I’m going to use the power of Technically Being Your Boss. 

BEA: Fucking hell. 

TRAVIS: You can go ahead and join me on stage, ma’am. Come on, the room’s waiting! We got a show to do! Everyone welcome this babelicious-

GRACE: Bea! The lady’s name is Bea. GO! 

BEA: Grace, with God as my witness I will exact my revenge and it will be swift and unrelenting. 

GRACE_NARRATION: This comedian… foolhardy, I’ll admit, but I understand the allure of the nose. How far would you go for the thing you most desire? What would you sacrifice to be the person you’ve always dreamed of being? What would you risk? 

DRUNK GUY: Do something FUNNY.

BEA: Buddy, no one needs this much antagonism at a comedy show. 

DRUNK GUY: TAKE YOUR TOP OFF!

BEA: Fuck you!

TRAVIS: Hey man, don’t act like that.

DRUNK GUY: GET OFF THE STAGE!

TRAVIS: You know what, dude? Fuck off. Get the fuck out of here. 

BEA: Man, this sucks, but even I think these guys are being shitty. 

TRAVIS: I have dealt with this kind of… irritation… for far too long. Boorish fools who think they understand comedy? I understand comedy. 

BEA: I could imagine. Hey, uh, can I… get a look at the thing on your face? I just want to fix it, it looks like it’s… falling off?

TRAVIS: Oh, no, I’m good. I’m good! I’m real good. I’m doing very well. Others… may not be. Not for long.  

BEA: Sorry man, I’m just going to take a little reach over here [SFX: he pushes her away] Hey-

TRAVIS: Drunken fools don’t change over the centuries, do they? What say you, you vile man? Shall we find the heart of the act within you? [SFX: he pulls out a knife] 

DRUNK GUY: Yo, who the fuck gave that clown a knife? What kind of show is this? 

BEA: Shit! [SFX: Bea lunges at him at the same time he lunges into the audience. The audience screams and scatters] 

GRACE: [SFX: pulls the fire alarm] EVERYONE RUN!

BEA: Very subtle!

DRUNK GUY: That clown’s trying to fucking stab me! 

TRAVIS: YOU WILL DIE BY MY HAND. 

GRACE: Bea, be careful! 

BEA: Careful?! I’m trying to stop this idiot from being gutted!

DRUNK GUY: I’m sorry about the topless comment!

BEA: [SFX: she shoves Travis away] Shut up and get out of here!

GRACE: We need to discuss your fighting style. It’s very rough.

BEA: This isn’t something I’m used to doing! [SFX: she hits him hard and he hits the ground, his ears are ringing] The nose is completely stuck on his face, it’s like it’s super-glued on or something. Are you sure we shouldn’t just deliver him to The Maestro right now? 

GRACE: I worry about the unconventional methods The Maestro might use to separate the man from the nose. He has a penchant for… strong acids.

BEA: Ok, yeah, we don’t want that. Travis, how are you doing? You in there, buddy? 

TRAVIS: Set me free and I will peel the skin from your tongue.

BEA: Nope, he’s a scary clown. 

GRACE: We need to get that nose off, his body is fighting. I worry his heart will burst at this rate.

BEA: How do you know that? 

GRACE: Concentrate. 

BEA: … I got nothing. 

GRACE: Rest upon your hunger. Listen for prey.  

BEA: [SFX: a pounding heart beat] Holy shit. 

GRACE: You can’t keep pretending that you’re just a human who suddenly developed an allergy to the sun. You have power. Stop trying to fight it. Use it. Let me help. 

BEA: We’re not doing this right now, because- [SFX: Travis picks up the knife]… oh shit. 

TRAVIS: I still have a blade to flense you with!

BEA: Ok, maybe I’ll be a bit more open to the vampire thing. Doing that didn’t even hurt my hand. 

GRACE: There are benefits.

TRAVIS: …wha-? What’s going on? 

GRACE: Ah yes, our esteemed… guest? Thief? Is awake! You have some answers we’re looking for. Speak. 

TRAVIS: Listen, ok, I’m sorry I called you hot or whatever, I get that’s it’s like… mildly sexist, but it’s a compliment and-

BEA: No. I mean, yeah, don’t immediately go for “babelicious” or whatever, it’s weird, but we’ve got bigger problems.  

TRAVIS: W-Why am I covered in blood? What the fuck did you do to me? 

GRACE: It’s not so much what we did to you and more of what we stopped you from doing to yourself. 

BEA: What do you remember?  

TRAVIS: I just wanted to be good! I just wanted to be funny! – I AM THE CLOWN WHO WILL RULE THE WORLD, I WILL HAVE THE LAST LAUGH – Oh my god, oh my god. 

GRACE: How did you find out about the Grimaldi nose?

TRAVIS: Some guy came in! Some dude, uh… I don’t remember, he was like… a buddy of the owners? He said… he said this thing, it was a good luck charm? I don’t know! He told me that it was some super cool item and like I know it’s a fucking clown nose – IT IS A GIFT, A BOON! THE TWO WITCHES MUST DIE – but I thought hey, even if it’s not a lucky charm I can at least sell it? He said it was priceless! I just got evicted from my place, I need cash, and I… I took it! That weird guy in the basement, we steal shit from him all the time! But it didn’t come off! I thought this would be funny! I thought it would be a goof! I couldn’t get it off! Please, please get it off! BLOODSUCKER. BABY BLOODSUCKER. THE ONE WHO BROUGHT ME HERE SPOKE TO OTHERS LIKE YOU.

GRACE: Who was that?

TRAVIS: A TRADE, THE SIMPLETON WHO TOOK ME HAS A SIMPLE PRICE FOR A LARGE ASK. 

BEA: What did he look like?

TRAVIS: Get this thing off me! Get it off! [SFX: scrabbling]

BEA: Buddy, chill! We’ll figure something out!

TRAVIS: I WILL KILL YOU! – No! NO! [SFX: picking up the knife] – GET THEM, KILL THEM-

BEA: Don’t make me put you in the ground, man!

TRAVIS: I NEED THIS OFF [SFX: he slices the nose off of his nose and screams, dropping to the ground] 

BEA: HOLY SHIT.

GRACE: The nose! Oh my god, and Travis’s nose too. I’ll leave The Maestro to deal with the blood. And the nose tip.

BEA: We have to call an ambulance or something and… Oh… ok… Grace?

GRACE: Yes?

BEA: I need you to get me out of here. 

GRACE: I have been telling you that you have to eat. 

BEA: I KNOW. I know. And… I can’t be here right now. … Travis, come here. 

GRACE: Go back to the office, Bea. … NOW. 

BEA: Ok! Ok. 

GRACE_NARRATION: She shoots Travis one last look before she heads through the door. Hungry, hurting… terrified. Of what she’s looking at or what she’s become… I can’t say. But it scares me as well. I can’t let her slip. 

GRACE: [SFX: dialling and calling] Come on, The Maestro. Pick up. 

GRACE_NARRATION: The Maestro doesn’t pick up. The club is abandoned by the time I take Travis to the hospital. I cover his body as best I can, sacrificing a cardigan to staunch the bleeding of his nose, and dodging the throngs of the terrified crowd outside. It’s approaching dawn when I bring the bandaged man back to the office for questioning. I don’t know what to do with the bloody nose in the box on my desk. Travis doesn’t know who told him about it. Not by name. He describes him though, and a horrified moment of recognition crosses Bea’s face. Tall. A face mask. A heavy scent of cologne. He was so convincing. I call Travis a cab, but when I return Bea is still trembling. 

BEA: Grace, that’s… that sounds like him.

GRACE: We’ll find him. We’ll figure out what’s going on.

BEA: Sure. I… I need to go home. I’ll see you later. You might want to restock the office fridge, by the way.

GRACE_NARRATION: I don’t know what to tell her. I want to protect her, but even I can’t shield her from her memories. Or her nature. So, I go home, cowed by my own impotence. Outside, the sun rises and I curl up in the dark, falling into an uneasy sleep. Which is exactly when Lennox knocks on the door and pushes his way in, uninvited… 

 

[SFX: transition to a dreamscape] 

GRACE_NARRATION: I sense the exact moment the dream is wrested from the control of my subconscious, the moment threads of worry and memory turn heavy and biting. Suddenly Bea is there before me, she’s prone and trembling on the blood-stained floor. I can feel him behind me again. Fucking Lennox. Of all his powers, the one I hate most is his ability to walk into my dreams without preamble or permission. 

LENNOX: It’s time.  

GRACE: I don’t want to.

LENNOX: It’s time, Grace. 

GRACE_NARRATION: I don’t want to listen to him. In my own dreams, I float. This feels like digging my way out of a grave in a way I wish wasn’t quite so achingly familiar. It feels like I’m looking through a funhouse mirror. The proportions are off. Bea’s green velvet sofa is too large. The black and white patterned rug is too threadbare. The light emanating from the side lamp is now cold, muted with a frosty blue cast.

GRACE: I’m so sorry.

BEA: Grace, please-

LENNOX: You know what to do. [SFX: He pulls a knife out of a sheath and passes it to Grace] 

GRACE: Yes. I suppose I do. [takes another step towards Bea]

GRACE_NARRATION: It no longer feels like a dream when my fingers curl around the knife, but it doesn’t feel real, either. 

BEA: Please, I know you don’t want to do this. 

GRACE_NARRATION: I don’t. I really don’t.  

GRACE/LENNOX: But I must.  

GRACE_NARRATION: I’ve spent years trying to untangle my thoughts from those of the vampire that turned me. But in this moment, trapped in the confines of the dream that he’s created, my efforts feel laughably futile. I am aflame with the strength of his desire. She has to die. She is in the way. 

LENNOX: Remember who you are. What you are. You can’t fight it, Grace.

 

[end]

Credits

Featuring the voices of:

Emily Kellogg as Grace
Alex Nursall as Bea
Ian Boddy as Rhys
Adil Lakhani as The Maestro
Rob Deobald as Lennox
Phil Wright as the heckler
Keith Ohman as the MC
and Reyna Stillwater as the ticket taker

Woodbine is an original podcast created, written, and produced by Emily Kellogg and Alex Nursall
Showrunning and direction by Alex Nursall
Production and promotion by Emily Kellogg
Engineering and sound design by Ian Boddy
Theme by Phil Wright
Music by Phil Wright and Ian Boddy
Recorded at Pirate Sound
Artwork by Andy Kelly
Distributed by Realm