(a starting view of some shaky camera work, eventually focusing in on Qwill in his barn)
Qwill: (taps on camera lens) Are we on, Bushy?
Bushy: Looks like!
Qwill: Excellent! (clears throat) This is my home (sweeping arm movement, cordial bow), the comforts of which I will soon be leaving to explore the enigma of the Visitors of Three Tree Island.
Bushy: Qwill, hold up. I'm afraid your home's a little too big to all fit in the frame at once.
Qwill: ...Oh. Good point. Well, take what you need, Bushy.
(Bushy quickly starts widely panning the camera around the entire barn)
Qwill: Careful not to swing that camera around too quickly! We don't want our viewers to get motion-sickness before we even board your boat.
(a bunch of stick-shapes drop from the rafters onto Qwilleran's head)
Qwill: Argh! Lori's stickcraft mobiles! (looks up) Koko, cut that out! You break it, you buy it, young man.
(part of one of the rafters falls from the rafters near Qwilleran's head)
Qwilleran: KOKO!!
Koko: ROWR!
Bushy: Qwill, I'm sorry, but could you move slightly to the left? You're blocking my view of the fireplace a little.
Qwill (turning): Why on earth are you using up so much film when we haven't even left the house yet?
Bushy: No reason. I'm just establishing the...general environment around us - y'know, the...mise-en-scène. Our natural habitat. For...contrast to when we go out on the island.
Qwill: .........Bushy, has Hixie by any chance contacted you about a "Totally Uncensored Barn Tour" home-video project of hers?
Bushy: (pause) Why do you ask?
***************
(Bushy and Qwill drive up to Roger's residence)
Bushy: (beeps horn) C'mon, Rog!
Roger (coming out door): Here I am, Roger MacGillivray, ready for adventure!
Sharon (calling out door): Roger! Don't forget your inhaler!
Roger (taking inhaler): *grumble*
***************
(the group arrives at Lois's Luncheonette)
Qwill: OK, Bushy, you go ahead and set up the tripod; Roger and I will start in with the interviews.
Bushy (saluting): 10-4, Roger that!
Roger: Huh?
Bushy: Nothing...
Roger (turning to patron): Excuse me, sir, but would you happen to know anything about the Visitors?
Feed Cap: Yeah. They drive up the property values with buyin' up farmland for their condos and they take up all the parking spaces downtown in the summer.
Roger: Thank you, sir. (moves away) Pardon me, do you know anything about the Mooseville Sand Giant?
Feed Cap 2: Wha?
Roger: My colleagues and I working on a feature called the Sand Giant Project, you see, and--
Feed Cap 2: "Sand Giant Project"?! Another fool gov'mint program to waste our tax money! Darn bureaucrats shoul' go back to throwin' frozen turkeys through jet engines!
Feed Cap: Say, aren't you folks s'posed to be lookin' for Visitors?
Roger: Sand Giant, Visitors, whichever. We're journalists. We work for scale. We're not picky.
(Lois Inchpot suddenly appears)
Lois: Qwill, you and your reporter friends are going to have to leave.
Qwill (turning): I'm sorry, Lois; we didn't mean to disturb your business. We're just investigating--
Lois: I know what you're "investigating", and it ain't true! I ain't never watered down the the Squunk water, and I defy you to prove it!
***************
Qwilleran: (knocks on door)
Rhoda: Mr. Q!
Qwilleran: Hello there, Rhoda! Bushy, Roger, and I (gestures behind him) are on our way to an expedition to find out more about the Mooseville Sand Giant--
Bushy: Among other things!
Qwilleran: --um, yes - and we thought some input from the local historian would provide some welcome context for our report. Is your husband in?
Rhoda: One minute...HOMER! YOU HAVE VISITORS HERE ASKING YOU ABOUT THE SAND GIANT!
Homer: "LAND GRANT"? AIN'T GOT ANY LAND GRANT COLLEGES IN MOOSE COUNTY! GOVERNMENT SKIPPED US OVER!
Rhoda: NOT "LAND GRANT"!! "SAND GIANT"!! THE ONE THAT ATE THAT BACKPACKER BOY A WHILE BACK!!
Roger: A hot expose on the Sand Giant That Ate the Backpacker Boy. This report isn't exactly going to pad my resume, unless I want to work at the Enquirer.
Qwill: Shh, Roger.
Homer (coming to door): What's that about a "codger"? You'd better check with the missus if yer lookin' for a codger, 'cause I'm still a spring chicken, heh heh.
Rhoda: That's only because all your "salutary nips" down at the library have pickled you into a tough old bird!
Homer: "Buffalo herd"? There aren't any buffalo here! Where d'ya think we are, Montana?
Rhoda: Oh, you're impossible. (to Qwill) Do you see what I have to put up with?
Qwilleran: (pause) Good day to you, madam. (leaves)
***************
(on a Sand Giant-spotting hike)
Roger: We're lost! We're lost! I knew it!
Qwill: Calm down! Bushy has the directions I got.
Bushy: Let's see..."Go east, now, down the shore a ways a bit, till you get to a wee inlet where good Father Ryan and I used to fish every Saturday morn. You can follow the path up and around to the other side, but I'd tell you to wade right 'cross the water - but 'ware o' the plants 'n' tangles that line the river's bed, for they caught one o' the father's flat-bottoms forty-odd year ago. Follow the trail down a bit after, and keep on straightaway - and don't turn left, for go down that road a ways, and that'll take you to what's left of the schoolhouse where old Paul Foster"--did you get these from Mr. O'Dell?
Roger: We're lost! We're lost!
***************
(the boat has been wrecked)
Bushy (after sufficient pause to mourn the passing of his boat): That's it. We're stuck. (peers out) Sky's looking pretty nasty. We can't ride out a storm here with no shelter; we're going to have to call for help. Let's get the flare gun out of the emergency kit.
Qwill: Roger *used* the flare on the way to the island.
Bushy: Roger! That was only for emergency use!
Roger: That mad seagull, to me, constituted an emergency.
Bushy: What seagull?
Roger: It was crazy! He was divebombing me! It was a scene right out of The Birds!
Qwill: He was probably after that tuna fish sandwich you packed, Roger...
Roger: He was *probably* rabid.
(pause)
Bushy: Well, great. What'll we do now?
Qwill: A signal fire?
Bushy: With what? This's "Three Tree Island", not the Hundred-Acre Wood! All of our matches went down with the boat, and we don't _have_ any dry tinder besides!
Roger (to Qwill): We could always burn your moustache for brush.
(Qwill looks at Roger)
***************
(Qwill, Roger, and Bushy are walking down the shore)
Bushy: So, after your cat knocked him out, you used your belt to tie up your murdered landlord's flunky painter after you discovered his secret forgery studio by accessing the secret passage in the conservatory.
Qwill: The kitchen closet. Right.
Roger: Was this before or after you witnessed the mad doorknob artist plunge to his death at the rave?
Qwilleran: You two just don't know a great story when you hear one!
***************
(the group arrives at a spot on the shore)
Roger (in a frenzy): This IS IT! This is the SAME PLACE we passed two hours ago! The SAME PLACE-- How? How?! We followed the ocean! We followed--
Qwill: Well, we ARE on a small island. If we follow the shoreline around, we are eventually going to wind up where we started.
Roger: This is no time for your Hardy Boys "deductive reasoning" leaps of logic, Qwill!
Bushy (sotto voce, to Qwill): How in blazes did he ever get so jittery?
Roger (snappy): I teach high school for years on end, and you expect me to come out of it completely composed? And you're calling me delusional?
Qwill: Touché.
***************
(Roger is speaking into the camera lens)
Roger: I just want to tell Sharon and Mildred how very, _very_ sorry I am for all this and apologize to them and to everyone. I was very naive - very naive, and very stupid, and this is where we've ended up because of that. It's MY fault that we're out here all alone, wet, and cold, and hungry, LOST, and SCARED, and HUNTE--
Qwilleran (confiscating camcorder): For crying out loud, Roger, cut it out.
Bushy: If only we were hunted. Maybe then someone'd find us and get us off this blasted island.
***************
Roger: Hey! Wouldn't it be great if, instead of a Sand Giant, we were chasing after a witch? Then we could call this the Sandwich Project! Get it? Get it?! Ha ha ha ha---
(Roger's voice is suddenly cut short as he is whapped from behind and the camera falls to the floor.)
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