Being Human

1

[female voice]

This...is the story of a story.

Once upon a time,

there was this...

story,

and the story

said to itself,

"How shall I begin?"

[male voice]

Try the usual way.

What, in the dark?

With a man and a woman

and a story that's

still to tell itself?

Well, you've got

to start somewhere.

Say, "Long, long ago"

or "Far, far away"

or just "Once".

That's good.

"Far away"

so you know the place

is close

to your own heart.

"Once" is nice,

so we know

it always happens.

Hmm.

Once there was this...

hero.

Some hero.

Some man, then.

Any man.

Say, a man, a woman,

and some children.

Don't forget the children.

What's he doing now?

Still building the fire.

Hiding, you mean.

He's scared of us?

Some dad, huh?

Ha ha...

Well, it's been four years.

He's getting fat.

[giggling]

So what's in the story?

A man on a beach

all washed up.

A shipwreck.

A heartbreak.

Freedom?

Betrayal, regrets,

old shoes,

a crust of bread,

a bunch of roses.

Could be my story.

Anybody's story.

A journey.

A long, long journey.

Yeah. That's the story.

A long, long journey to...

where, exactly?

[giggling]

Go home!

Go on.

[female voice]

Once upon another time...

so long ago, nobody

had got around to caring

whether the world

was round or flat...

there lived--in a cave--

a man, a woman,

and some children.

Grr...

Grarr!

Dada, look.

Oww, ow!

[sniffling]

Inside the cave,

it was as safe as...

houses.

And every day, they awoke

into the only world

they would ever know.

[children laughing]

Stay home.

Dada's hunting.

Go.

Dada.

No.

Go home.

Go.

Maybe if the man knew

the whole story,

this very well

might have been different.

But this seemed

a morning...

like any other.

[distant voices]

[laughter]

[shouting]

[speaking barbarian language]

[shouting]

Go!

We go!

Move!

Arrows.

Up the hill.

Beach.

No. They're down there.

I saw them.

No. Other beach.

No. Up the hill.

Can't.

Up hill!

You're wrong.

Oh, you're wrong,

you're wrong.

Shut up!

[shouting]

Go!

Ma-mama!

Leave me!

Go on!

Don't lose the children!

Come, dada.

I get food.

Now, stay here.

No noise.

Don't move.

Dada...

Don't cry.

Shh.

Dada...

Dada, come.

Don't leave.

[voices]

[speaking barbarian language]

[laughter]

[voices]

Of course the man

had heard the stories

of the wandering men,

the ones who came

and took everything.

A story to frighten

his children with.

But up till now,

that's all it was to him--

a story.

[moaning softly]

Yaaa!

Mine!

Mine!

Yaaa!

Yaa!

Yaaa!

Yaaa!

[laughter]

Mine!

Mi--

And they all turned--

at a loss--

to the priest for guidance.

He said,

"Look up there.

The stones.

We should surely pay tribute."

With these men,

suddenly everything

was out of kilter.

As they led their captive

by the rope,

even the priest was hoping...

when they got there,

he'd somehow know...

what to do.

[speaking barbarian language]

And the poet was already

making up the story

of this strange day.

Not mine.

Not my stones.

The leader stared hard

at these stones,

thinking

till his brain hurt.

Was it to make the sun work?

Was it supposed to be

one man over,

one stone on top, or what?

[shouting]

Huh?

Oss.

Oss.

Oss.

Oss?

Uh...

Oss!

Oss.

Oss.

Schtorek...

garre.

Dada.

Dada?

[speaking barbarian language]

Dada...

Dada...

Dada.

If the world is round...

you could still fall off the edge.

No. It's not round like that.

It's round like...

this.

You believe everything

that Greek tells you?

Where are we, then?

Rome must be in the middle...

here.

So we must be out here...

Rate this script:(0.00 / 0 votes)