The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane

1

Happy birthday.

Who is it?

- Mr. Jacobs?

- Yes?

It's me, Frank Hallet.

Hallet?

- Trick or treat!

- What?

Trick or treat!

It's Halloween, young lady.

Why aren't you out trick-or-treating?

Oh, somebody's birthday.

- Whose, yours?

- Yes.

- Well, happy birthday.

- Thank you.

And besides your birthday,

it's also Halloween.

Can I tell my father what you want?

My name's Frank Hallet.

Your father knows me.

My two kids will be along.

They're trick-or-treating.

I'm just going along to make sure...

there aren't any real goblins

hanging around.

Like dirty old men who try to give

pretty little girls some candy.

Tell your father you've got company.

You better shut the door.

You'll let all the heat out of the house.

I've seen you around,

but we've never met, have we?

- You came over from England, right?

- Right.

And they don't celebrate

Halloween in England?

No.

It's a big day here...

when all the kids get dressed up

in costumes and masks...

and go around to all the houses...

and shout, "Trick or treat!"

And you're supposed to act scared.

And if you don't give them a treat,

they pull some dirty trick on you.

You mean, no trick-or-treaters

have been by here tonight?

Well, there will be. My two kids

will be along here any minute.

One's a green skeleton and

the other's a Frankenstein monster.

What's considered a treat?

Candy, popcorn, gum, anything like that.

Would they like a piece of cake?

But that's your birthday cake.

You shouldn't cut it just for them.

Bravo.

Where's your mother?

My mother's dead.

But your father's here.

He smokes French cigarettes, right?

Am I right about the French cigarettes?

Yeah.

Where is he, upstairs?

Your father's upstairs?

- No, he's in his study, working.

- Oh, yes. He's a poet.

My mother says he's a poet.

And whatever my mother says

automatically has to be true.

It wouldn't dare not be.

My mother's the lady that leased

this place to you and your father.

Oh, that's great.

The kids are gonna love this.

Are my hands cold?

You're 13?

I counted 13 candles.

- That's all I had.

- You're 14?

I'll bet you write poetry too.

I'd like to read your poems sometime.

Just you and your father live here?

Just you two?

Yeah.

And I'll bet this is

his favourite chair, isn't it?

Yeah.

What've you got there?

What is that, a hamster?

Oh, let me see.

Well, I just wanna see.

What's his name?

Oh, come on. He's gotta have a name.

Tell me his name.

Gordon.

Gordon? He's cute.

Shouldn't you tell your father I'm here?

No, not when he's working.

You're a very pretty girl,

you know that?

Pretty eyes.

Pretty hair.

Pretty girl like you,

and your birthday and all...

No boyfriend?

Come on, I'll bet you got a boyfriend.

I'll bet you got lots of boyfriends,

pretty girl like you.

It's okay. It's all right. Relax.

I get to spank you on your birthday.

That's a custom here.

Yes, you get one spank for every year,

and one to grown on.

See, you got off easy.

Now, don't get mad. It's just a game.

It's just a silly birthday game,

that's all.

You don't think I was trying to

be fresh, do you? Don't be silly.

I've got two kids of my own, you know,

and they'll be along any minute.

Here they come now, even. Well, I'm off.

Thank you for the treats.

No trick on you tonight.

Hello, boys!

Tell your father I'm sorry

I missed him. Good night.

Hey, I've got some treats for you.

There we go.

One for you and one for you.

Come on, boys, let's go. Happy birthday!

Come on, boys, let's go, go, go.

Jacobs, Lester and Jacobs, Rynn.

That's me.

It's what you call a joint account.

Rate this script:(0.00 / 0 votes)