For this chunk of the assignment, I’m going to lay out my story script along with the main images I’ll base my animatic on.
The Tale of Bloody Buckets
Sheriff Johnson drives in his car towards Wallace. 1950’s gospel music plays in the background over old speakers. Occasionally, a voice comes over the police radio with accompanying crackle.
Jerry stands at the gate holding a rifle and with a length of chain and padlock looped around his shoulder, spitting occasionally, watching the sheriff’s car approach from the distance with a dust cloud behind it. Wind moves clouds and the dust cloud, trees sway in the breeze. A storm is coming on suddenly, as storms in this part of Texas often do.
The sheriff stops his car a ways off from the gate and walks up to it, toting a pump-action shotgun, stopping in front of Jerry. He seems nervous, looking around.
JERRY: “You it?”
SHERIFF: “Afraid so, Jerry. Ken wouldn’t even leave the office.”
JERRY: “Aight, then.” PAUSE “I’m glad you came.”
SHERIFF: “Well I sure ain’t. But I owe you.”
The sheriff walks through the gate and both men get into an old truck and begin driving towards the main tank.
As they drive, both men have their weapons pointed out their respective windows and scan the scenery nervously, eyes darting around. Raindrops begin falling as thunder rumbles in the background. No words are spoken. They stop a piece back from the tank dam so as not to spook their quarry. Occasional lightning forks overhead, lighting up the scene. They get out of the truck.
The background has darkened considerably since the first scene. Both men clutch their guns as they stalk towards the reflectors set away from the dam. Rain begins falling harder.
SHERIFF: *whispering* “Where is he…?”
JERRY: *whispering* “He’ll show between those reflectors I put up. It’s been ten years to the day-”
They both stop suddenly as lightning flashes, silhouetting both of them and the giant figure that has appeared in front of them with glowing red eyes and smoke wafting from its head.
JERRY: “It’s time to end this.”
Bloody Buckets roars in anger at the trespassers into his territory.
Rain is pouring down now.
Camera behind BB, both men shoulder their weapons and begin firing as BB leaps into the air.
SHERIFF: *shouting over the guns* “I’ll send you back to HELL, you heathen devil-!“
He is cut off as BB lands and slaps him aside. The sheriff is thrown into a mesquite tree by the truck and knocked unconscious. Out of ammunition Jerry swings his rifle like a club. BB notices him and knocks him back towards the truck as well where he lands in the mud by the driver’s door.
BB approaches the unconscious sheriff menacingly, occasional growls echoing from under the bucket helmet. Jerry, groaning, pulls himself up the side of the truck and into the cab where he frantically tries to start the engine.
JERRY: “Come on, come on…!”
It finally turns over with a roar and he slams it into gear, picking up speed towards BB who has begun turning and is met head-on with the steel bumper and smashed between it and a tree as the truck falls crashes into a small ravine.
Jerry wrenches open the truck door, dragging the length of chain and staggers towards Bloody Buckets.
JERRY: “With this chain I bind you to this land-“
He quickly wraps the chain around the tree and monster, locking him into place. He goes back to the truck cab and returns with a branding iron and blowtorch. Heating the end of the iron, he continues speaking to Bloody Buckets.
JERRY: “-and with this brand-“
Jerry stabs the red hot iron against BB’s forearm as the monster howls.
JERRY: “- I claim you as thrall. You will guard this land and protect me and mine when you are summoned. This is the will of the Martin Clan and you will OBEY!”
Red lightning flashes and strikes all around as thunder crashes, coinciding with one last bellow from the monster. Bloody Buckets has disappeared.
Scene 9 (If there’s time!)
Jerry retrieves a lantern from the wrecked pickup and walks over to the sheriff, who has since come to, and picks him up.
SHERIFF: “Jerry… Is he… Did we…?”
JERRY: “We did it. It’s finally over.”
The sheriff’s arm around Jerry’s shoulder for support, they both limp back up the road the way they came, lit by the glow of the lantern.
SHERIFF: “Finally even then.”
JERRY: “I’d say so, Bob. I’d say so.”