“When Angel pays a visit, the comedy is divine.”
“Angel Pays a Visit” is a spec script for a feature-length film based on the poetry books of Carolyn Elkins.
Previously: Kindergarten teacher and poet Cissy Aiken is suicidal after her young brother’s funeral.
INT. CISSY’S HO– USE – KITCHEN – DAY
Oh God! I need help.
Overhead there is a vibration noise, then a rattling. Cissy looks up at the ceiling. There is a concussive, low-bass boom and a barely visible impact ripple along the ceiling. Followed by thrashing noises. Cissy turns off the gas, picks up the knife again, and heads to the hallway, where there’s a pull-down ladder into the attic. She listens to the noises for a few seconds, then slowly, fearfully pulls down the ladder, revealing bright light.
She raises a hand to block the light.
Hey! Whatever you are, get out of there! . . . I have a knife.
She pauses, then slowly climbs.
INT. ATTIC – CONTINUOUS
Cissy pokes her head up into the attic and at first is blinded by the light. Then she begins to see ANGEL, who is glowing, with wings open wide and cramped by the roofline. Angel is comically trying to control his wings. He’s startled but tries to be reassuring.
Be not afraid.
Cissy screams, drops the knife, backs down the ladder, and runs.
INT. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
Angel is in the kitchen before Cissy. Dressed stylishly in white, he sits at the table sipping coffee. Cissy stops, wide-eyed.
Come here often?
Cissy runs out of the house.
EXT. CISSY’S DRIVEWAY – HER CAR – CONTINUOUS
Angel sits in the driver’s seat with his left arm nonchalantly out the window and his wings draping into the back seat. He wears a checkered cab hat. Cissy stops dead.
Where to, Lady?
Cissy visibly gives up, resigned to the probability that she’s insane.
Crazy Town, I guess.
That’ll be a short trip, huh?
I think I’m already there. . . . Who are you?
Don’t you mean, “What are you?”
Yeah. OK. What are you?
I was hoping you’d ask that.
He gets out of the car, his wings fading from substance to just light. He leaps onto the car hood, clears his throat, straightens up his posture, and assumes a serious demeanor.
And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.
Angel stops and smiles, happy with his performance.
How was that?
A car drives by. The driver has a startled expression, but it’s clear that he does not see Angel’s wings; he sees only a man standing and gesturing theatrically on the hood of a car.
Cissy steadies herself against the car as her knees begin to falter.
Oh my God. . . . Are you saying . . . I’m pregnant?
Nooo. No! I’ve been sent to help you.
I’m not crazy?
Not crazier than anybody else.
Cissy turns toward the house in a daze.
I’m going inside.
She goes to the house, passes the stray cat near the doorway, opens the door, turns around and Angel is miraculously right behind her.
Are you coming in?
Are you inviting me?
Cissy pauses and contemplates, then nods her head.
I’d love to.
Angel smiles, follows her in, and the door closes itself behind them. There’s a flash of bright light just before the door closes.
The stray cat pads over to the doorway, sits, looks up at the closed door, and sweetly meows. After a few seconds, Cissy opens the door.
All right. I give up. You might as well come in, too.
The cat scampers in and Cissy closes the door.