|Copies of this unfilmed script can be purchased at
Written by Paul F. Edwards
Second draft - August 27, 1982
This script is of an unfilmed episode.
We have altered the original format for ease of reading.
Lattinia is observing, if you can call it that, from an elegant litter, supine. Ariel sits by her sickbed, holding her mother's hand and massaging her temples. The King is a little miffed at her state of health.
You'd ought to take better care of yourself, that's all I'm saying
Stop picking on her, Daddy. It's not her fault we bought cheap warthog.
It wasn't the warthog. It's just these games, I'm just so nervous!
Hang it all, Lattinia! You never gave a fig for any of this before.
That only shows how powerful sport can be . . . once you've been exposed to it, it gets into your blood.
Ooooh, look! Erik's going to fight this enormous barbarian.
Lattinia groans and turns her face away.
Just tell me when it's over.
Come on, Mummy! He's still got a chance. He won that axe-throwing thing this morning.
It's three out of five for the Championship, though. He'd have to win both the Crack-con Throw and the Joust. I wouldn't get your hopes up.
Lattinia groans from her bed, most pitiably.
Oh, well. Cheer up. It's only a game!
Erik confronts the Barbarian inside a giant circle. The hairy adversary hold [sic] a large, round metal object, resembling a pineapple in shape, by a ring which is mounted in its top. He takes aim and heaves it toward Erik, who runs under it and catches it, which is what he has to do to stay in the contest. We hear ROARS from the crowd.
Erik sets himself, backs off further, then lofts it back toward the Barbarian, who manages to catch it. The idea is that each throw and catch must be further apart until one of them drops the Crack-con; then the other is the winner.
Long story short, Erik beats him. He lets one fly that travels in a great high arc and the Barbarian blows it. The stands erupt in enthusiastic APPLAUSE for the favored hero. The Barbarian gestures at Erik desultorily.
Ariel is elated. Even Baaldorf is cautiously optismistic [sic].
Oh, wow, he won!
She jerks bolt upright in her litter, yanking the curtains aside.
He did! He and Blackpool are tied, two to two!
Lattinia closes her eyes, invoking the Goddess of Fortune.
He has a real sporting chance now. No question about it!
Luck, be a lady tonight.
What did you say?
I said, if only he can do it.
Oh, Mummy . . . you really like him, don't you?
Yes, dear, he's like money in the bank.
Don't be angry, dear, but I made a sizeable wager on Greystone.
A hundred kolnas.
A hundred kolnas? Wow, Mummy's going to be really angry if you lose that. Right, Mummy?
Lattinia has closed the curtains.
Blackpool and Erik meet.
Come to wish me luck?
No, I'm looking for Marko. Have you seen him?
Matter of fact, I did. Saw him down at the river with three of the Giant Women from Brune.
Why don't you stick around? You might learn the proper way to throw a Crack-con.
Yeah, you're really good at throwing stuff around. Maybe I will.
Blackpool faces Broadicea, who has a Crack-con in hand. She heaves it high. Blackpool circles under it and makes the catch. She backs up and he lets fly, high and hard. She drifts under it and has it.
He makes the sign.
She winds up, looks down. The thing in her hand has taken on a life of its own. It is glowing, quivering. She lofts it high and away.
Seeing the Crack-con is glowing, he moves into action, racing for the field.
He looks up, sees the smoking grenade peaking and descending.
Flashing a sudden burst of blinding light from his palm into Blackpool's eyes.
Blackpool is blinded. The smoking grenade is descending toward him as Greystone dashes in. Blackpool falls to his knees as Erik reaches up and makes a Willie Mays "Say Hey" catch.
Greystone lofts the Crack-con high towards Broadicea, who tries to catch it, runs from it, and is blown up by it in a horrible cloud of green and purple smoke that takes a giant divot out of the turf where she formerly was. A death light flashes.
Hubbub between Baaldorf, Greystone, and Blackpool.
Why did she activate the Crack-con?
I'll tell you why. Three of my knights have been kidnapped. My team is still winning. The only way to stop me was to kill me.
What did you promise her, Greystone?
If I hired her to kill you, why did I save your life? I don't know what you're up to, but I know if there's any more trouble, I'm going to answer it with my sword.
There's obviously a plot at work here. Three of Blackpool's knights are missing, Bowdoin is missing, and there's no sign of Marko.
I thought he was with the Brune women.
He was. Maybe your Amazons have turned on you, Greystone.
I've got to go look for him.
He starts to leave.
Hold it! You have to finish the games. There's the joust.
Your Highness, Marko's in danger.
The Palace Elite are searching for him. There's nothing you can do. Now let's finish the games and we'll find out who's behind all this.
Don't worry, Erik. The joust will be over in no time.
Geoffrey Blackpool is behind the stands, taking diamonds from a small leather bag and throwing them up at the Royal Box.
Something hits her peaked hat and drops into her veil. She sweeps at it with annoyance, brushing it away. Another missile bounces off her head, into her lap. She picks it up and examines it. It glints brilliantly in the sunlight. She turns and looks down over the rim of the box.
She is at once irritated and piqued, seeing him there.
Come down! I gotta talk to you, alone.
Give you all these diamonds.
She thinks about it, pouting, coy.
What's that bag made out of?
Ariel's eyes glisten; she suddenly gets up and comes down the stairs, fast. Geoffrey pretends not to be looking up her dress.
As Geoffrey helps her down the last step, he tries to kiss her. She slaps him.
Give it to me!
The bag, the bag.
He grins. He holds out the bag and pours the diamonds into her cupped hands. She stashes them in her skirts. He grabs for her again, but she eludes him. He holds out the leather bag and, as she goes for it, he snatches it away. Now she becomes the stalker. She has to have that bag. He holds it away from her.
What do I get for it?
He dangles it in front of her. She looks at it longingly. She reaches for it with slow deliberation. He traps her in his arms as she grabs it.
Let go of me.
He paws and grapples her. She is still being held by him, but she turns her back to his groping, staring at the bag and stroking it, as arounsed [sic] by it as he is by her.
Ever since that first time I saw you, I've been in love with you. I've got to have you.
Well, you can't. I'm engaged to be married.
To Greystone, the pretty boy Prince? What do you want him for?
He comes from a good family . . .
Oh, sure. We Blackpools aren't good enough for you.
You said it, I didn't.
He spins her around, presses her to him.
Yeah?! Think you're so fine, hunh?! [sic] Well, one of these nights I'm gonna sneak into your room . . . and drag you out by the hair . . .
. . . carry you out into the woods in your nightgown, and throw you down in the mud . . .
Mud is good.
And then . . .
I'm going to . . . ask your father for your hand.
Ariel winces, deflated.
Trumpets SOUND, trombones and cornets play a FANFARE on the field. Ariel jams the leather bag into her pocket and starts climbing the stairs back to the box.
What did I do wrong?
She disappears behind the railing, and he smacks a support timber.
Baaldorf is announcing the final event of the All-Around Knight Competition, the Joust.
. . . So that all other contestants have been eliminated. Only Prince Greystone and Prince Blackpool remain. The winner of this final event, the Joust, will be the overall champion.
Roars from the crowd. Hoots and Bronx cheers as Dirk shakes his own hands above his head in a gesture of victory.
The victor must take two passes out of three. Gentlemen, mount your chargers!
They do, and each rides to an opposite end of the lists. They turn, reining in their eager mounts, and take up their lances.
Placing his lance in its position, braced against his body, in the notch on his saddle.
He touches a spot on the base of his lance and the point elongates an extra two feet. His grin is sinister as he drops it into place.
He gives the signal.
The first pass. They hurtle forward to each other. They meet with a tremendous shock, but Blackpool's lance makes the earliest contact, since it's longer than legal size.
Greystone is blasted off his horse, but in the process snaps Dirk's weapon tip off. Blackpool sneers, looking confident anyway, as Erik picks himself up off the turf and remounts.
Lattinia is in terminal agitation. Ariel tries to calm her.
There goes my hundred kolnas.
Oh, no. Oh, why did I have to watch? Why did I have to see it?
He's still got another chance, right?
He does. I don't!
She put her veil over her face, sinking in her throne.
Once again the riders ready and charge. This time, their lances meet equally, and Blackpool's flat disintegrates on Erik's armor as Dirk takes an unbelievable shot that hurtles him end-over-end from the saddle. He rolls and lies still. In his dented armor, he looks as inert as a discarded can of cat food. Greystone waits.
Tremendous CHEERING for the home town favorite, Baaldorf leading it. Ariel is on her feet with Lattinia, who is applauding like crazy. An arrow WHISTLES in from some unseen source and sticks deep in the Royal Box between the King and Lattinia. She sees it, reaches up, yanks it out, then hands it to him.
It's for you.
He takes the message from the arrow and scans it.
It's a ransom demand.
The final pass is ready.
Blackpool sits his horse all right, but looks as though he'd really rather be in Philadelphia. They spur their horses and bear down on each other full tilt. They meet again with a resounding CLANG, and Greystone smashes Blackpool in the chest, knocking him off his horse and to the ground.
Greystone rides up to meet Baaldorf. Much applause for Greystone, but Baaldorf cuts through it.
Congratulations, Erik! But take a look at this. The ransom demand!
He hands Erik the note, which he reads.
We've got to move! There's no time to lose!
But the Victory Ceremony, dear! Oh, Erik, I can't tell you how thrilled we all are!
He looks at her out of the corner of his eye, furtively. Talk about your squeakers, boy.
And the Ball? I only watched all this stuff so we could have a nice party!
That's gotta wait. They're demanding all the riches of the royal treasury.
We'll meet in my tent.
Lattinia looks at Ariel.
All the riches? He can't mean that.
END OF ACT THREE
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