Manhunt - Script

[terminoob]

Eh, it's literature, so why not. My screenplay writing History teacher liked it enough to give me an A+, so it must be at least decent.

Scene 1: The Plan

-Three figures gather round a table inside a dim-lit warehouse on the lower west side of Washington D.C., miles from the Ford Theater. The door whisked open and a fourth figure stood in the door way. He took three steps into a beam of light shone by the sun coming in through the window. The figure bore a downward mustache, as well as hair parted to either side of his skull, yet still sticks up and curls above him, as if it were hovering. The other two figures address this man as Booth.-

-Good Friday, 1865, Booth is seen walking towards the FordÔÇÖs theater to retrieve his mail. The wind forces his hair to deviate from the part and flow backward. ItÔÇÖs not a particularly cold day, but Booth wears a jacket all the same.-

Worker: Good Friday, Mr. Booth.

-The worker smiled at him as he passed Booth the bundle of letters from the appropriate mailbox. Booth slightly chuckled at the workerÔÇÖs witty greeting and accepted the bundle, as well as passed a few letters of his own.-

Booth: Hehe, and a Good Friday to you too. Per chance, would you mind telling me whatÔÇÖs showing today? I feel like going to see a show, though unfortunately, I havenÔÇÖt the foggiest of whatÔÇÖs here today.

Worker: Oh, of course. The obvious choice would be to see ÔÇ£Our American CousinÔÇØ-

Booth: Sorry, IÔÇÖve already seen that one.

Worker: Oh, everyone has! I only say itÔÇÖs obvious because President Lincoln will be attending! Who wouldnÔÇÖt want to see the same show as him? The actors know heÔÇÖs going to be there, so theyÔÇÖll be at their best. Of course, shouldnÔÇÖt they be at their best in the first place?

-The worker giggled at his own remark, hoping it would become contagious so that Booth would laugh along with him in order for it to feel less awkward. Booth, however, could only hear the echo of the second sentence the worker said; it rang in his head like a gong and wouldnÔÇÖt let up. ÔÇ£President Lincoln will be attending!ÔÇØ ÔÇ£President Lincoln will be attending!ÔÇØ Over, and over, and over, and over again. Booth lost track of how many times that flew through his head, but he knew this was his chance.-

Worker: Booth? Booth?

-The worker waved his hand in front of Booth in order to snap him out of his self induced trans.-

Booth: Oh, I apologize, I donÔÇÖt think I got enough sleep last night. Now, you said Lincoln would be attending; will anyone else be attending, by any chance?

Worker: Oh, yes sir! President Lincoln will be accompanied by the first lady, as well as Ulysses and his wife!

Booth: Okay, thank you for your time. Have a Good Friday.

Worker: Likewise, Booth.

-Booth ruffled his hair back and forth in order to get it less disheveled than it already was, though to no avail. As he walked through the windy streets and back to his house, he had already began to devise a plan for something no one else has ever been able to do before; assassinate the president.-

- The door whisked open and a fourth figure stood in the door way. He took three steps into a beam of light shone by the sun coming in through the window. The figure bore a downward mustache, as well as hair parted to either side of his skull, yet still sticks up and curls above him, as if it were hovering. The other two figures address this man as Booth.-

Powell: You wanted to try this same thing just last month, Booth!

Herold: Yeah Not that I dont want to do this or anything, but are you sure youre going to go through with it this time?

Atzerodt: Excellent chance to kill the President If I had wished, werent those your exact words, Booth? Whats to say you wont wish to kill him this time? Besides, youre talking about ambushing the Fords Theater, sneak past security, find the balcony Lincoln is watching the show from, shoot your gun ever so precisely that it will ENSURE to kill him, THEN you have to get out of the theater alive. You shouldve just did it back in March, then we wouldnt be having this debate and Johnson would already be President!

-Footsteps were heard inside the warehouse. Not of Powell, Herold, Atzerodt, or Booth.-

Johnson: DonÔÇÖt listen to them, Booth.

Herold: Johnson?! What are you doing here?!

-Johnson shrugged-

Johnson: Took the day off.

Herold: Vice Presidents can do that?

Booth: No, they canÔÇÖt. Johnson, get back to your office before Lincoln is suspicious!

-JohnsonÔÇÖs laugh boomed through the warehouse, echoing throughout the entire building-

Johnson: YouÔÇÖre kidding! The manÔÇÖs favorite sport is wrestling! You think he has the brains to figure out where I am?! You make me laugh!

Powell: He has a point, Booth.

Booth: Fine. Stay. Now, hereÔÇÖs what weÔÇÖre going to do; Powell, youÔÇÖre assigned to kill the Secretary of State, Sheward. Taking out Lincoln is one thing, taking out his legacy is another. We need all traces of him gone from the White House. Atzerodt, youÔÇÖre assigned to kill Johnson.

Johnson: NOW WAIT A MINUTE!

Powell: DonÔÇÖt get your britches in a bunch, Johnson, you wonÔÇÖt die, we just need to make sure no one gets suspicious with you working against us. I mean, if the group planned to assassinate Lincoln also planned to assassinate you, then why would anyone believe you were a part of it?

Johnson: Thats True

Booth: Yes, now let me finish; Herold, this is where you come in. After we complete our tasks, you have to help us escape to Virginia. If we canÔÇÖt cross that state line, then weÔÇÖre done for. Everyone know what theyÔÇÖre doing?

Everyone ÔÇôin unison-: Yes.

Booth: SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Everyone ÔÇôin unison-: SIC SEMPER TYRANNIS!

Scene 2: The Execution

-Powell and Booth begin to walk down the streets, taking every which way. After an intersection, Powell heads for Pennsylvania Avenue, while Booth continues on for FordÔÇÖs Theater. Before they depart, Booth wishes Powell luck, and Powell does the same. After a few minutes, Booth finds himself in front of the theater. His gun concealed underneath his jacket. The perfect plan.-

Booth: One for ÔÇ£Our American CousinÔÇØ, please.

Attendant: That will be two dollars, sir.

-Booth hands the attendant two dollars, who in turn hands Booth a ticket for the show.-

Attendant: Enjoy your show.

Booth under his breath-: Oh, I will

-Booth begins to walk down the corridors of the theater. He finds the stairs to the balconies and trots up them.-

Lincoln: Yes, IÔÇÖm sure. Take the night off.

Guard: AAre you sure, Mr. President? I mean, someone could be planning t-

Lincoln: No worries, I expect it to happen. I canÔÇÖt stop cheating death; if someone wants me dead, then so be it. Just go, enjoy yourself.

Guard: Th Thank you, Mr. President.

-The guard pushes the velvet curtain aside and heads down the right corridor and down the stairs, passing Booth on the way up, but thinking nothing of it.-

-Booth walks along the edge of the corridor, pushing aside every velvet curtain until he finds the one with Lincoln on the opposite side. After a few minutes, he finds it. At first, Booth is taken back by the sight of Lincoln with no body guards around, and how easy it will be to get the job done. Taking a few steps back, Booth isnÔÇÖt sure if he can do it.-

Booth: This This is insane. Im not going to KILL the President I mean What if I wont be revered as a hero in the South? What if it doesnt work and Im set to be hanged in front of the town? So many things could go wrong

-The voice of Atzerodt rang through his head ÔÇ£Excellent time to kill the PresidentÔǪ If I had wishedÔÇØ, werenÔÇÖt those your exact words, Booth?ÔÇØ Booth knew he was right. Right here, right now, is an excellent time to kill the President. He wishes to kill him. Tip toeing towards the curtain, BoothÔÖs blood begins to race, his pulse begins to pound, and his heart begins to beat as fast as a train could travel. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and ending at his chin, then dropping towards his feet. Smacking his lips, Booth could taste LincolnÔÇÖs blood on his tongueÔǪ And he loves it. Taking a deep breath, Booth pushes aside the curtain. Luckily, the audienceÔÇÖs laughter is able to shroud his footsteps, making it near impossible for anyone to tell heÔÇÖs there. Raising his gun from his jacket, Booth was finally ready.-

-Bang. The gun shot silences the entire theater, transfixing their attention on LincolnÔÇÖs balcony. Booth stood with one foot on the railing, holding his pocket knife in the air-

Booth: Sic semper tyrannis!

-Seconds later, when LincolnÔÇÖs head dropped down, hitting the railing in front of him, subsequently making his lifeless corpse fall to the floor, the audienceÔÇÖs silence broke out into shrieks of terror.-

Mrs. Lincoln: ABRAHAM! ABRAHAM SPEAK TO ME!

Ulysses ÔÇôshaking Lincoln-: DonÔÇÖt you die on me now, you son of a bitch.

-Tears filled UlyssesÔÇÖ eyes. He transfixed his gaze onto Booth, then pointed his finger.-

Ulysses: YOU WILL DIE!

-Ulysses charges at Booth, who, as a reflex, jumps off the balcony, attempting to make a quick and easy getaway. Unfortunately, his right leg gets snagged on the American flag.-

Booth ÔÇôfalling-: Oh my God this is so ironiiiiiiic

-As Booth hit the floor, an unhealthy snap came from his leg, indicating it breaking.-

Booth: Dammit

-No one attempts to stop Booth as he makes his way for the exit.-

Mrs. Lincoln: What are you all doing?! STOP HIM!

-The audience looks up at Mrs. Lincoln, then at Booth. No response. Booth exits the theater.-

Scene 3: The End

-Several days passed since LincolnÔÇÖs assassination. Wanted posters for Booth, Powell, Herold and Atzerodt began appearing on every street corner in Washington, and soon the appeared across the North. Then the South.-

WANTED: JOHN WILKES BOOTH

WANTED: DAVID HEROLD

WANTED: LEWIS POWELL

WANTED: GEORGE ATZERODT

REWARD: $100,000 EACH

Booth: So doc, what do you think? Can you fix my leg?

Mudd: I suppose. How did you break it, again?

Booth: My horse fell on me.

-Mudd gave Booth a quizzical look, but didnÔÇÖt say anything on the matter.-

Mudd: Yeah, sure.

-Several days later, Booth was on his way to Virginia with Herold, Powell and Atzerodt.-

Booth: Are you fucking kidding me, Powell? You DIDNÔÇÖT KILL SEWARD?!

Powell: Shut the hell up, Booth. I stabbed him, isnÔÇÖt that good enough?

Booth: Obviously not, if HEÔÇÖS STILL ALIVE! The plan was to kill him, not to give him three weeks of sick days!

Herold: Both of you, shut it! IÔÇÖve had enough of your bickering, Booth, I congratulate you on killing Lincoln, but donÔÇÖt get on PowellÔÇÖs case for not killing Seward if it took you three times to kill Lincoln.

-Booth became enraged.-

Booth: Excuse me?

Herold: You tried to kidnap him, which didnÔÇÖt work. You tried to kill him in his second inauguration, which you chickened out on. You finally kill him on your third attempt.

Booth: Fuck off, Herold.

Atzerodt: HEY! We got Lincoln out of office and Johnson in, so everyone just SHUT UP until we get to Virginia, okay?!

-No one said anything.-

Atzerodt: Good.

-Three gun shots were heard. Three people collapsed off the getaway horse. Booth sat alone.-

Booth: POWELL! HEROLD! ATZERODT!

-Booth turned around to see Union soldiers on his trail.-

Corbett: Stop now, Booth! YouÔÇÖre out numbered!

-Another gunshot was fire.-

Booth: Shit

-Booth sped up the horse and hopped off at the nearest warehouse. He blocked the door from the inside.-

Corbett: You have until three, Booth!

Booth to himself-: This is how Ill die Inside a warehouse, one similar to when I plotted to killed Lincoln. Ive never been fond of irony. But, I still killed the President! Im the first person to ever assassinate a President! Oh man, if I can just get to the South Ill be a hero! They all wanted him dead and Johnson in power, I did that! I DID IT! Thats what they wanted! And I did it! Wait Wha? Whats this? A newspaper? April 16th, 1865: BOOTH: HE LIVED AND WILL DIE AS A TRAITOR. What? How can this be? A traitor? BUT I DID WHAT THEY WANTED! Unless. No What if they didnt want him dead now? Oh God Oh God! What have I done?! God, I beg of you, forgive me!

-Corbett slammed the door-

Corbett: 1!

Booth: If this is how Ill die Then I want to go my own way

-The door slammed again-

Corbett: 2!

-The door slowly creaked open. Booth staggered out of the warehouse, arms in the air. Corbett readied his gun.-

Corbett: Hehe Looks like thisll be easier than I thought. Hold him so he doesnt get away.

-Corbett nudged his head towards two soldiers then towards Booth. The two soldiers grabbed BoothÔÇÖs arms and forced them by his side, as well as clasping his legs. Booth looked at both of them disgusted.-

Booth: Tell my mother I died for my country.

Corbett: Never.

-Corbett fired his gun. A body fell.-

Booth: Useless, useless

-Three figures ran into the forest.-

The date was April 26th, 1865

This is known as the day

That Booth got away.

-End-

FACTS

- The worker who informed Booth about Lincoln attending ÔÇ£Our American CousinÔÇØ was John FordÔÇÖs brother.

- LincolnÔÇÖs favorite sport was, in fact, wrestling.

- Booth attempted to kidnap Lincoln during the Civil War, but never followed through. He and his accomplices also attended LincolnÔÇÖs second inauguration speech, where he yet again, didnÔÇÖt follow through with plans.

- Eye witness accounts say that Booth did not get snagged on the American flag, otherwise he would not have been able to make such a hasty retreat. Doctor Samuel Mudd confirmed the fact that Booth even told him that his [boothÔÇÖs] horse fell on him, which is what caused his leg to break.

- BoothÔÇÖs accomplices were David Herold, George Atzerodt, and Lewis Powell.

- Powell was assigned to kill Seward, but was only able to stab him. It was not fatal, and Seward fully recovered.

- Atzerodt was assigned to kill Johnson. He did not even make an attempt on his life, as he spent the entire night in a bar.

- Herold was the getaway.

- When Booth died, the contents of his pockets were as follows: a compass, a candle, five pictures of different women [one being his fianc?®e, Lucy Hale, and his diary that contained an entry after killing Lincoln that said ÔÇ£Our country owed all her troubles to him, and God simply made me the instrument of his punishment."

- It is possible that Boston Corbett shot BoothÔÇÖs look-a-like at Garret farms, allowing the real Booth to escape his pursuers. People said that he took on the pseudonym ÔÇ£John St. HelenÔÇØ. It is said that on his deathbed, he confessed that he was in fact LincolnÔÇÖs assassin, though he made a recovery and fled the scene, only to die shortly after in 1903.