Well people here it is! As promised here is an excerpt of my script, I will post a few more throughout the year. Hopefully, you’ll like the script, let me know, even if you don’t. Any feedback is good. Please know that it’s not like reading a novel, but it’s certainly like watching a movie. ENJOY!



SUPER: “The healthy fought back with the only means they had, and that was violence.” ANONYMOUS.



Two men, poteen in hand, dressed in poor man’s Irish garb eagerly walk out of the tavern. One of them gently bumps into a table.

On it is a newspaper.

INSERT – NEWSPAPER, headline reads:

“March 10, 1828,”

“Brave the final frontier of Upper Canada.”


The two lads join a cheering crowd of five dirty men avidly ogling a fight between the giant MARTIN and ARROGANT PADDY.

Drunk, Martin watches as he receives a sucker punch to the nose. Losing his fragile balance he wobbles backward laughing.


Shite, is that all you got!

Me mother packs a heavier punch

than you!

He smears the blood off his dripping nose with the back of his hand.


She always did love a good bang that one.

 Zealous for encouragement he looks to his mates for a good laugh, but a hush goes silent.

JOSEPH the one arm bartender closes his eyes, and shakes his head.


Good Lord son …

Arrogant paddy loses his smirk as dread renders him wide-eyed. He quickly turns back his gaze to Martin, and feverishly takes a few steps back, the zealous crowd next to him follow suite.

Martin’s stare goes blank with blinding rage. Nothing but his bottom lip quivers. The fisticuff man balls his fists.

Joseph points with his good arm, towards Martin.


Get him!

 The two closest men lunge for Martin, but he fights them off.

Joseph in a desperate thrust, turns towards Arrogant paddy, and pushes him out of the line of fire.


Jaysus Kid … leave!

Fraught with fear Arrogant paddy is frozen still.

Martin lunges towards Arrogant paddy, and pummels him to the ground. With a street fighter’s swift left and right hook he hits his opponent uncontrollably into a bloody cataleptic mess. One of the surrounding men jumps on Martin’s back trying to restrain his lean boulder-like arms, but it’s no use, and he goes flying.


You’re going to kill the bastard!

Martin, enough …

 He looks around for something to stop him.



 Amidst the chaos of cheers, and jeers, Joseph is desperate and resorts to swing one good kick in Martin’s rabid face.

Martin glimpses the blurred foot knocking him out, and falls back unconscious to the ground.


A loud bang reverberates throughout the one room house.

Ten-year-old Martin wakes up with a start on a hay strewn floor.

He watches his mother, her back to him, anxiously stand up from her rocking chair and look out the dirty window.

In the distance, past the pastures, overtop the cluster of trees is a plume of smoke rising into the moonlit sky.



Where are you?

With a quick cross sign, KATIE walks outside and sees a second explosion light up the clear black sky.

 She whispers in prayer, her breath lingers in the frosty air.

Alarmed, Martin follows closely behind, and gently grabs his mother’s tattered shawl.


A loud piercing sound ECHOES in MARTIN’s(Sr.) head. Torn up, bloody burnt skin dangling from his face, he frantically runs, ducks, and avoids branches.

He briefly looks behind him, and sweeps the forest for his friends.

He notices ROY O’MEALY, running wildly a white sheet hanging loosely over him, like a ghost. Thick flames lick the mansion behind him, just beyond the forest perimeter.

 MARTIN(Sr.) (V.O)

Dammit Roy! Take off the bloody sheet! (GAELIC)

 A dark figure appears at the forest perimeter, shotgun raised.



 Martin(Sr.) doubles over in speed, dropping his own sheet behind on the ground.

Frantic Whiteboys in their ethereal cloaks zip in and around the trees.


JAMES KENT scours the woods, his mansion burns behind him.

Ready to fire, James signals with his free hand for his TWO SERVANTS to stop behind him with their eager hounds leashed.


I’m waiting to play little spooks …

 He wipes the sweat pouring off his brow from the blazing fire.


Flesh and bones …

 He catches sight of Roy and a wicked smile crosses his lips.



 Gun cocked, he inhales deeply, calmly as he takes aim, holds his breath and fires.

A bone-chilling CRACK resonates in the woods.


Martin(Sr.) looks back as two large God-fearing eyes peer from behind the ghostly sheet.

Like a ragged puppet Roy drops to his knees, the white cloth leaching black with blood at the gaping chest wound. He falls face first into the ground.

Another CRACK echoes throughout the woods.

Dizzy, Martin(Sr.) staggers as his knees buckle. He grabs hold of a tree, but stumbles weak to the ground.


Get up old man … Get up! (GAELIC)

 He looks down, surprised to find blood oozing out of his obliterated shoulder. Black staining his trembling fingers.


Fuck me! Katie ‘ll be pissed.

Martin catches his breath and painstakingly crawls further away from the bloody massacre, and closer to the northern edge and out of the woods.


James turns Roy’s body over with his foot, and removes the blackened sheet.

Roy’s vacant stare glares back at him.

He lifts his gaze from the dead body, and flashes a cruel smirk.

Servant one, and two share a look with each other as fear hardens their eyes.

His eyes narrow on the two servants observing him closely, he frowns.


Find that motherfucker Hennessy …

He has to be here somewhere! I want

His head on a spoke. You hear me?

The two servants nod, and quickly trek forward with their dogs sniffing away.


Standing by the mudhouse door, Katie sees Martin(Sr.) painfully staggering up the rolling hill. She runs out to meet him half way. He collapses in her arms, and to the ground.

She hears dogs barking in the distance. She looks around, panting heavily.



 Her son runs to her.


Quick, grab his feet. We need to get him to the river.

 Martin hesitates.


Get on with it!

 Mechanically he takes his father’s feet. Terror flashes in his eyes, and as he sees his father’s disfigured body, he stops to vomit.

Katie’s stern resolute look reveals nothing more than if she were waiting for their parish priest to finish his sermon on Sunday morning.

Martin wipes his mouth, and quickly resumes his position, but he stumbles over his feet, and drops his father’s legs his hands trembling ferociously.


Don’t think about it son,

quickly now, take his feet.


2 thoughts on ““A SHINER’S WAR”

    • Thank you so much Mr. La Croix, I really appreciate you taking the time to read it. It means a lot, and I’m really grateful, thank you. I am currently in editing mode, and some elements didn’t make the final cut, although a long process, and sometimes tedious, it’s really so much fun. Hopefully, one day you’ll get to see it on the silver screen instead of just reading. Take care, and thank you.

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