The first 160 lines.
Deep in the woods, there lies a secret door,
and behind it, nightmares.
No!
Real nightmares.
I belong to a colony that has sworn for centuries
to guard this door and to protect our world
from the horrors that lie behind it.
It is my duty, and I cannot fail.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry!
Shh!
All right, listen close.
Count to 100 after I leave
and then go to the council.
Tell them that Disciples have been hurt.
Can you do this?
Warmth to you.
Carrie?
Carrie Ecker?
Hey, there, why aren't you at your post?
Carrie!
Carrie!
Get back here, Carrie Ecker!
Hey!
This way, follow me.
Quickly!
She's close.
Let's go.
- This is how we dance... - In West Pine!
Like this. Like this.
This is how we eat in West Pine.
- Mmm! - Ah!
You want to get a fresh egg...
And then pour your artisan toppings.
This is how we express our emotions in West Pine.
Why isn't anyone watching these?
We're literal comedic geniuses.
Because no one knows what West Pine is.
- It's a town. - They get the concept.
Like, I need to be famous fast
so I don't have to get a job selling diapers and Vaseline.
Eh, make an OnlyFans.
You make an OnlyFans.
Also, what do you even put on your résumé?
You haven't done shit.
Skilled in math, spreadsheets, dance.
Okay, dance.
And cashiers don't make spreadsheets.
Wha... okay.
Well, a robber comes in and is like,
"Bitch, organize my data!"
I don't know.
Unrealistic.
Robbery is far too interesting for West Pine.
Bro, you're about to be on TV.
Stop pretending that's not interesting.
Not the kind of interest that I want.
Maybe your parents would stop
putting everyone out of a job, then.
I will murder you,
like, actually.
Look, all I'm saying is,
if I'm gonna stare into the void all day,
I might as well get paid for it.
Ooh, ow.
Make some rent for when we graduate
and can get the fuck out of here.
But then I won't
get to stare into the void with you.
Wow, you Frisks really hate jobs.
For the billionth time, Nolan.
Hey, Lumi.
You ready to get on camera?
There's something out there.
- Come on. - Hold up your sign, baby.
The dead girl is me.
Okay.
That deserves a chocolate.
There he is.
Would you like to take another four hours?
We can wait.
Why the earring?
Why the dye job?
Women suffer enough for the vanities.
Now the boys want in, too?
I just wanted to pizzaz you on your big day.
Get beside your dad.
You're distracting. Seriously.
I'm here at the home of Victoria Frisk...
lawyer behind the high-profile suit
against West Pine Nickel...
as she celebrates the closure of one of the mine's tunnels.
Gallery eight was dumping acid runoff
right into our drinking water.
I can't say I'll miss that.
But our work isn't over.
So long as WPN operates, we tempt fate.
We're inviting a blight
onto our town...
one that will drive our children
to sickness and death.
History is defined by those who act
in the face of intense opposition
simply because they know it's right.
Calm mind, steady hand.
Calm mind, steady hand.
Excuse me, sir.
Do you know where I might find a bus to Salem?
Front of grocery, on the hour.
Do you know when might be?
Your religious group not teach you to read?
Look at the schedule.
I'll take this to the back for Lee to review tomorrow.
Appreciate you. Thanks.
Hey.
Are you all right?
Have you seen this girl?
- Hi, sir. - How can I help you?
Just looking.
Go, go.
Something for your kids.
Hi.
Sorry.
Uh, cool if I join?
You're from the Disciples of Dawn, right?
You, um, running from the colony?
Like... like, leaving them?
We don't see y'all much.
Here.
Oh.
I'm Tasha.
Thank you for helping me.
Uh, i-it's yours...
a gift between new friends.
Although friends usually know one another's names.
Carrie.
My name is Carrie.
Cute name.
Carrie...
I think you might need a disguise.
Five, four,
three, two, one.
Ready or not, here I come!
Snowball, you freaky bitch.
We both got our cages, huh?
Gonna find you, Lumi!
You can't hide from me, you little bug.
Here I come!
Lumi!
I'm gonna find you.
Lumi?
Lumi?
Hello.
Gonna get you, Lumi!
Gonna find you.
Shoes.
Shoes off.
Dad's never seen a Sharper Image catalog
he didn't love.
Disarmed.
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