The Dead Ed Project Day Three

September 3, 1999, 3:29 A.M.

OHMYGOD!

Melissa: WHATTHEFUCKISGOINGON?!

Mike: What the hell?

Melissa: Let’s get the fuck out of here!

[and they run, blindly into the night … camera shaking the whole way.]

Melissa: Hold on … where’s Chad?

Mike: He must have … he must be … still in the tent!

Melissa: Oh shit … what was that? That was so uncool.

Mike: I don’t know … listen … do you hear it?

Melissa: No … do you think it’s safe to go back?

Mike: I don’t know, but I don’t think we should leave Chad in there by himself …

Melissa: What was that?

Mike: I don’t know …

Melissa: did you get it on film?

Mike: I don’t know … it was dark.

Melissa: can’t you play it back?

Mike: Not in anyway we’d be able to discern anything. Let’s go back.

Melissa: I’m scared.

Mike: Me too.

[They retrace their steps, and their equipment has been strewn about the campsite, the tent deflated …]

Mike: OH SHIT!

Melissa: CHAD!

[Mike checks the satellite uplink equipment while Melissa digs through the tent to find Chad Foster, still in his sleeping bag, covers held high overhead]

Melissa: Are you okay, Chad?

[Foster slowly lowers the covers]

Foster: Melissa, you are an angel.

Melissa: I was so worried about you …

Foster: I was worried about you too … I hoped that they would take me instead of you …

Melissa: That’s so sweet …

[Foster sits up and leans over to kiss the kneeling Melissa …]

Melissa: Hey Mike? How’s the satellite uplink?

[and Foster lies back down, dejected. He pulls the covers over his head.]

Mike: I think we’re okay … let me try it to see if it works … god, what time is it?

[Mike turns the camera on himself again]

Mike: Dirk, we need you to come through for us man. There is somebody out here seriously fucking with us. Maybe it’s the shrooms we ate, maybe not. Maybe it’s our imagination, maybe not. Maybe we’re going insane. Who knows. All I know is that someone is seriously fucking with our heads and it ain’t cool. It’s what … 3:36 in the morning. We don’t need this. Dirk, send help. Anything you can.

Foster: Hey Mike, can I use that thing?

[Mike turns the camera on Foster]

Foster: Hey Shanoski, I might be out here in the woods getting the pants scared off of me …

Mike: Um, Chad, where are your pants?

Foster: But I haven’t forgotten about you. Yeah, I was a bit worried when I realized I signed the match between us. I realized that Boston Street Fights aren’t exactly my specialty. But you know what? I’m going crazy out here. Crazier than you. So, hell, bash me on the head. See if I care. Throw me out of a moving car. I’ll bite. I’ll keep coming back. You can’t stop me, Shanoski. I’m not scared anymore. I’ve learned on this little adventure that what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger. And you know what? We’re going to make it back. And I am going to kick your ass. And there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it. I was “Wild” Chad Foster before this trip. What am I going to be when I come back?

Mike: Chad, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re not any closer to being back than we were yesterday.

Foster: We can’t lose hope. Please. We can’t lose hope. Melissa, come over here … I think we should set up a watch through the night. We’ll take shifts and make sure no dipshit shows up to scare us. Sound good?

Melissa: Yeah.

Mike: Hey, I’ve got to do the uplink, so why don’t you guys fix the tent and I’ll be on watch. I’ll wake one of you guys up if I get too tired.

Foster: Okay. Sounds good. Be safe, Mike.

Mike: Yeah. Good night.

Melissa: Good night, Mike.

[and as Mike hits the stop button, Melissa hovers hesitantly, then disappears to help Foster with the tent and we are left with an endoftransmission..]


September 3, 1999, 8:05 A.M.

[The camera is very unsteady.]

Melissa: How does this damn thing work? Chad! Wake up! This thing is heavy …

[Melissa kicks at Foster in his sleeping bag. He blearily looks up at her]

Chad: What?

Melissa: Where’s Mike?

Chad: Mike? Isn’t he out there?

Melissa: no …

[Chad gets to his feet and surveys the area …]

Chad: MIKE!

Melissa: I already tried that. He won’t answer.

Chad: Is this some kind of joke? MIKE!

Melissa: He’s gone … I was wondering … he ate a lot of those mushrooms yesterday … what if they were poisonous?

Chad: You don’t think … MIKE!

Melissa: or whatever knocked over our tent last night might have gotten him …

Chad: He would have woken us up, wouldn’t he? We’d at least hear him struggle, right? I think he probably wandered off and threw up … he’s got to be nearby. MIKE! Should we wait for him to come back?

Melissa: What if whatever it was last night returns? I want to be as far from here as possible!

Chad: Maybe we should leave a trail for Mike to follow …

Melissa: Yeah, we’ll leave breadcrumbs so everybody knows where we are and can sneak up on us and kill us.

Chad: No one is going to kill us …

Melissa: which is why you were wetting your pants in the sleeping bag with the covers pulled over your head.

Chad: Well, what are we going to do?

Melissa: I guess we leave Mike behind … we can leave him his gear and pack up the uplink, the camera ourselves …

Chad: it’s going to be heavy …

Melissa: We can do it, we just might move slower this time …

Chad: I hope Mike’s okay.

Melissa: Me too. I’m scared.

Chad: Don’t be. We’ll be there soon.

Melissa: Where?

Chad: We’ll find Dead Ed … I can smell him.

Melissa: I don’t care about Ed. I want to go home.

Chad: Oh, but this is what we came here for! We will have our Ed!

Melissa: I don’t want to argue. I’m hungry, I’m tired and I’m scared. I just want to go home.

Chad: We’ll be there soon … I promise … put the camera down. I’ll find some more berries and we can pack up the tent and stuff and be on our way …

[Melissa turns the camera on herself]

Melissa: Dirk, I will fuck you if you get us the hell out of here.

[and that’s it … we fade to an endoftransmission .. without Mike, are Chad and Melissa doomed?]

September 3, 1999, 3:59 P.M.

[And we’re moving again … Melissa’s got the camera, and she spies Foster ahead, laboring with the uplink equipment. He turns and tries to appear upbeat, but the fatigue is evident.]

Melissa: Let’s take a break … we’ve got too much stuff to carry.

Foster: This is … hell.

Melissa: you’re telling me.

Foster: How are you holding up?

Melissa: I’m … I’m okay …

[Her eyes water, but she bites her lip. Foster puts his arm around her.]

Foster: It’ll be okay … Really, we’ve got to be close to something by now …

Melissa: you’re right …

[a snapped twig ends the silence]

Foster: what was that?

Melissa: Shh.

[another twig snaps]

Melissa: Where is it coming from?

[another twig snaps]

Foster: maybe it’s Mike … and he brought help …

Melissa: What if it’s what attacked our tent? What if it’s a bear or something?

Foster: There are no bears in Massachusetts. Give me the camera, I want to use the zoom …

[Melissa relinquishes the camera, and now a tree in the distance is in focus … Foster backs up and goes to a wider shot, finding Melissa’s eyes wide open, focused on something right behind him!]

[Foster whirls around, and a frightened deer knocks Foster down with his front hooves and runs off.]

Foster: Cocksucking son of a bitch!

[Foster gets up, camera and all, and chases after the deer in Shaky-vision.]

Melissa: WAIT! COME BACK! COME BAAACK!!!!!

[it’s obvious that Melissa is chasing Foster now]

Foster: I’m going to get you, you piece of shit!

Melissa: Chad, our stuff! Come back!

[The deer isn’t even in view anymore, and Foster collapses, exhausted]

[Heavy breathing]

[gasps for breath]

[labored breaths]

Melissa [breathing heavily as well]: Chad! Our stuff! I tried to grab it, but all I got was the satellite uplink, and I don’t even know if I got all of it!

[heavy breathing]

Melissa: Chad! Get up, this isn’t funny!

Foster: Will … you … marry … me … if we … get … out of this … mess?

Melissa: NO!

Foster: then let them kill me now …

Melissa: On your feet, buster, we need to get our stuff.

Foster: I need … I need to rest. Let me lay here … I’m going to eat a leaf.

Melissa: Eww. Well, give me the camera then. We might as well uplink while you’re flat on your back.

[And as Melissa hits stop … we hear Foster’s heart beating faster and faster, not from exertion, but from the realization that he is going to die …]


September 3, 1999, 8:01 P.M.

[Foster’s behind the lens, and, even in this horrid condition, he still insists on focusing his lens on Melissa’s posterior. She’s still wearing Mike’s white T-shirt and her camouflage shorts. Most importantly, she’s carrying the satellite uplink equipment in her arms, and she isn’t wearing a backpack. Judging by the cadence of Foster’s footfalls, neither is he.]

Melissa: Chad … it’s getting dark. We’re not going to find our stuff. What are we going to do without sleeping bags or a tent?

Foster: I don’t know …

Melissa: I mean … are we done? Done in by Mother Nature? Can we survive a night without shelter?

Foster: I’ve never, you know, slept under the stars. But … don’t people do that sort of thing all the time?

Melissa: But not in these woods …

Foster: The most fierce thing we’ve run into is a deer. I think we’ll be okay.
Melissa: But what destroyed our tent last night? Where’s Mike?

Foster: It’s okay … I’m sure there’s a rational explanation. A deer thought our tent had food … and Mike is wigged out on mushrooms … There … that explains it.

Melissa: How about a better explanation … Dead Ed is fucking with us and he’s going to fucking kill us like he’s killed Mike!

Foster: Why would he kill us?

Melissa: All the “Darkness” bullshit …Haven’t you been listening to the promos he was cutting?

Foster: um, yeah … but it’s a gimmick!

Melissa: A gimmick? Why is it that we’ve never met this guy face to face?

Foster: He wanted to be “mysterious.”

Melissa: And you let him? What kind of fool are you?

Foster: I don’t know … he seemed innocuous enough …

Melissa: He seemed innocuous enough … we’re going to die, because you thought a guy that refused to meet you in person was, in your opinion, “innocuous.” I’m going to die in the woods, and I’m going to die with you. Damn you, Chad Foster. Damn you. I’m going to broadcast this back to headquarters. Everyone will know what a retard you are. Everyone will know what a bumbling idiot you are. We may die here, but everyone will know just how pathetic Chad Foster is, was, and ever will be. When someone fucks up, they’ll be pulling a Foster. When things go wrong in stupid ways, Things will be getting all Fostered. Fuck you Chad Foster. Fuck you.

[And Melissa kills the camera. And it is dark. And it is cold. And it is almost over.]