A
Nightmare on Elm Street 2:
Freddy's Revenge
A Screenplay By:
David
Chaskin
BEGIN
MAIN TITLE SEQUENCE
EXT.
SUBURBAN HOUSING DEVELOPMENT - DAY
A
big, yellow SCHOOL BUS pulls up to a corner and discharges a group of
TEENAGERS. It's one of those
fantastic spring afternoons and the kids
take to their freedom like they were just sprung from Leavenworth.
KIDS
G'night,
Joe...Have a good weekend, etc.
The
BUS DRIVER doesn't answer but nods and smiles as they deboard. He
is a pleasant looking elderly man, wearing a khaki work shirt, a matching cap
and chewing on an unlit, twenty-five cent stogie.
The
DOORS fold shut, the GEARS GRIND and the bus continues along its
route.
INT.
SCHOOL BUS - DAY
While
there are only about a dozen kids on the bus, the noise level is deafening.
GIRLS are yapping, GUYS are horsing around, someone is fiddling with a ghetto-blaster,
trying to decide among several
loud stations.
EXT.
SUBURBAN STREET - DAY
The
bus turns a corner, taking them out of the development and past some older,
less identical looking residences spaced more widely
apart.
INT.
SCHOOL BUS - DAY
The
Driver downshifts the old heap, pulls the wheel over to the curb and
reaches over to push the door lever open.
KIDS
file out down he aisle, some of them wishing him well as they leave.
ANOTHER
ANGLE
as
the gears grind again and the bus pulls away. We see that there
are only a few KIDS remaining: TWO
GIRLS sit together toward
the center and a lone, nerdy-looking BOY sits at the rear.
The
DRIVER is in front of an aluminum divider and, except for the top of his cap, cannot be seen.
END
MAIN TITLE SEQUENCE
ON
THE THREE KIDS
The
two girls are pretty, teen-fashionable and just a little immature. One of them turns back to look over her
shoulder.
CLOSER
ANGLE - THE BOY
Poor
kid. About 17, four-eyes, bad
skin, lousy posture and an obvious
inferiority complex. He's sweating
profussely and he stands slightly to
unlatch and lower the window. He
pulls down on it with
all his strength but it is hopelessly stuck.
He
sits back down and sighs.
Suddenly, he feels the girl's stare. he
doesn't turn but sends his eyes over to see who's goggling at him.
ON
GIRLS - JESSE'S POV
The
first girl turns back to her friend to whisper something. The friend
turns around to see for herself.
INT.
BUS
The
boy stares forward now and catches her glance directly.
The
girls shift quickly in their seats to face forard and let out with an uncontrollable rush of mean giggles.
The
boy is clearly embarrassed now and looks down at the books in his lap.
We
hear the engine REVVING - the bus seems to be picking up speed.
One
of the girls stands, ready to get off.
GIRL'S
POV OUT WINDOW: EXT. STREET
A
MOTHER, her PRE-SCHOOL CHILD on a TRICYCLE and their DOG wait for
the bus to discharge the girl.
EXT.
STREET
The
bus speeds past the waiting group, to their amazement.
INT.
BUS
The
standind girl's jaw drops open as they shoot by a familiar looking intersection and continue to pick up
speed.
FIRST
GIRL
(to
her friend)
Hey!
(calling
to driver)
Hey,
that war our stop!
The
bus turns a sharp corner and the first girl almost falls. The second
girl grips onto the seatback and lifts herself to her feet.
SECOND
GIRL
(calling
to the driver)
Hey,
Joe! Our stop!
HER
POV - THE FRONT OF THE BUS
The
unseen driver ignores the calls and continues picking up speed. We might notice that his hat has changed; in place of the cap, we can see
the top of a BATTERED OLD FEDORA.
SECOND
GIRL (O.C.)
Hey,
let us off!
EXT.
TWO-LANE STREET - DAY
The
sky has suddenly turned; a wave of threatening clouds sweeps overhead and the WIND
is churning a planting of roadside weeping willows
into a tangled mess of yellow tendrils.
The
bus WHINES near the top end of third, all of its FLASHERS are going like the dashboard was having a major
coronary. It passes the last
house and heads into open terrain.
IN
THE BUS
THE
SECOND GIRL steps into the aisle and starts making her way toward the front of the coach.
SECOND
GIRL
(under
her breath)
Deaf
old fart...
She
stops suddenly and GASPS as she watches
THE
DRIVER'S ARM
emerge
to throw the floorshift into fourth.
His hand is clad in a strange
GLOVE that tip his fingers with a menacing set of RAZOR- SHARP, STEEL TALONS. His sleeve is charred and smoking.
The
bus SWERVES WILDLY as it skids around a corner, throwing its few passengers into collision courses with the
walls and each other.
A
FLASH OF LIGHTNING crashes through the air.
EXT.
DESERT LANDSCAPE
As
the lightning subsides, the sky is dark.
The BUS SCREAMS along,
banging through rocks and ditches, CRASHING through a wall of overgrown brambles. Thick clouds of steam pour out from
under he hood and stream back along
toward the rear of the vehicle.
ON
THE BOY
holding
o to his seatback and watching out the window in terror as trees TEAR loose from the
ground i the bus'wake.
We
hear a LOUD RUMBLING and the bus begins to shake as if the planet itself is splitting in two.
ON
THE BUS
Skidding
across the desert landscape, being THROWN to and fro laterally, at the mercy of the
shuddering landscape.
ON
A FRONT WHEEL
as
the tire smacks into a jagged boulder, SNAPPING the wheel from its axle.
ON
THE FRONT END
BOUNCING
to a violent halt, the bumer digging a long trench into the earth.
IN
THE BUS
THE
KIDS pick themselves up from the floor.
It is very hot and smoky
inside. They have moved closer
together now, sweating, scared.
Frantically, the boy tries to open a window, but it will not
budge.
He
looks out the window and gasps.
EXT.
POV FROM WINDOW
THE
GROUND below begins to SPLIT apart and tumble into a deep fissure that is encirling the bus.
ON
THE MOOR, THE BUS CENTER
The
land is IMPLODING all around it; huge chunks of the earth's crust are shearing
themselves loose from the edges of the fissure and
tumbling into oblivion.
In
moments, the bus is stranded on the narrow tip of a towering ridge of
crumbling stone.
The
bus teeters precariously, tasting the smoky abyss in every direction.
INSIDE
THE
SECOND GIRL is on al fours in the aisle.
She looks up toward the
driver's seat.
SECOND
GIRL
(seeing
something
hideous)
Jesus!
She
scrambles to her feet and begins backing off. The floor of the
bus shifts dangerously, throwing the girl into the edge of one of the seats.
ON
THE DRIVER
as
he makes his way toward the back.
We don'g see his face but he is
dressed in a filthy green and red sweater. In the B.G., the dashboard
instruments are sparking and sending thick black fumes toward the
ceiling. SMOKE is rising off his
body as if he just stepped out of some
horrible fire. A small patch of
skin on his hand
sizzles and pops and drips a molten glob of flesh that burns a small
hole in a seat cushion.
His
Razor-Talons sweep along the tops of the seat-backs CUTTING deep gashes into the green vinyl
upholstery and SCRAPING horribly over
the tubular steel support poles.
ON
THE BOY
Terrified. Lookign first at the awful talons, then
out the window at
the DEADLY DROP and back at the bus driver.
ON
THE GIRLS
Sweating,
panicking. They back away, going
from window to window, trying
desperately to pull them down.
They're all locked tight. One reaches
for the emergence door leer at the rear of the bus. It
comes off in her hand.
The
kids huddle together, petrified, screaming, as the driver is upon
her.
CU:
DRIVER
He
lifts the awful, talonned glove in f.g.
Behind, obscured by smoke, we see,
for an instant, his fce -- the face of FREDDY. he raises
his weapon arm higher and STRIKES.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT.
WALSH HOUSE - KITCHEN - MORNING
CLOSE
on a steel blade cutting into red flesh.
We PULL BACK and see that it
is MOM, slicing a tomato at the kitchen counter.
This
is an all-American family; along with a MOM, there's a DAD and a kid sister named NGELA
and they ll are having breakfast together.
A
moment later, there is a muffled, OFF-CAMERA SCREAM. Mom looks up. We can also make out the RINGING of an
alarm clock in another part
of the house.
ANGELA
jumps slightly at the scream.
She's a pretty little eleven-year
old, genuinely cute, not precocious.
ANGELA
(to
Mom)
Why
can't Jesse wake up like every-
body
else?
MOM
(hushed)
Shhh. He must've had another night-
mare.
CUT TO:
INT.
WALSH HOUSE - JESSE'S ROOM - MORNING
ON
JESSE'S BED. An alarm clock RINGS LOUDLY.
JESSE
WALSH (17) is sitting up in bed.
He's sweaty and scared and disoriented
as he slams his hand down on the alarm and tries to shake the nightmare out of
his head.
We
see that he's the boy on the bus only he's not half-bad looking - far from nerdy. he has no skin problems and he doesn't
wear glasses
and his body's in good shape.
As
he gets out of bed, still shaky from the dream, and we see that his bedroom is littered
with cardboard cartons - most of them open and
half-empty. He trips over a carton
on his way to his jeans.
INT.
WALSH HOUSE - KITCHEN - MORNING
Mom
is at the stove cooking eggs for her family. She looks up, worried,
as Jesse comes in and heads for the refrigerator.
JESSE
(mumbles)
'Morning.
MOM
(putting
on a smile)
'Morning,
honey.
Jesse
pours himself a GLASS OF MILK from the fridge. He joins Dad and
Angela family at the breakfast table.
DAD
You
got your room straightened out
yet?
JESSE
(yawns)
It's
getting there.
DAD
We've
only been living here six weeks
now. I want that room unpacked by
tonight.
MOM
comes over with some eggs for Dad.
MOM
(to
Jesse)
Want
some eggs...Angela, what are you
doing?