Werewolf of London Page #3

---

that's troubling you today.

Won't you tell an old pal how to help?

How?

- Shut up.

- I see.

It's been great seeing you.

Now I'd better go and find Wilfred.

He's probably looking everywhere for me.

I can't bear to see you change like this.

You, who used to rear at the drop of a hat.

A wild pair we were, weren't we?

High-headed, hard at the bit,

quick with the heels.

How we used to fight. Remember?

Yes. Where's all that lovely fight gone?

There's been no fight in me

since the night we broke things off.

This flower is an antidote for what?

Werewolfery.

Lycanthrophobia is the medical term...

for the affliction I speak of.

And do you expect me to believe

that a man so affected...

actually becomes a wolf...

under the influence of the full moon?

No.

The werewolf is neither man nor wolf...

but a satanic creature,

with the worst qualities of both.

I'm afraid, sir, that I gave up

my belief in goblins, witches...

personal devils, and werewolves...

at the age of six.

But that does not alter the fact...

that in workaday, modern London today...

at this very moment...

there are two cases of werewolfery

known to me.

And how did these unfortunate gentlemen...

contract this medieval unpleasantness?

From the bite of another werewolf.

These men are doomed but for this flower...

the Mariphasa.

There you are, Wilfred.

- Your wife?

- Yes.

This is my wife. Dr. Yogami.

How do you do?

May I visit

your conservatories again one day?

- Of course, yes.

- Thank you.

What a strange man.

Yes.

See, man. See that moon vine.

That only blooms at night.

If I've deceived that vine,

surely I can deceive Mariphasa!

I don't know, sir.

I got a feeling that Mariphasa

ain't a human plant, sir...

not like this vine.

Look.

Look, man!

What did I tell you?

And these two buds

should bloom before tonight.

Hawkins, go and get your dinner.

Dinner, sir?

Go. Get out. You make me nervous.

Don't stand there staring at me

all solemn and owl-eyed.

Yes, sir. Certainly.

Of course, Mr. Plympton,

you being a mere indoor person...

has no idea of the mysteries of nature.

Most interesting, what you've been

telling me, Mr. Hawkins.

And so them rings make moonlight, do they?

You have the idea, Mr. Plympton,

in a manner of speaking.

Not that it's easy to grasp.

But there's a very scary thought,

if you come to consider it.

Yes? And what might that be?

It don't leave nothing for heaven to do.

Quite so.

If you please, not on the glass, thank you.

Now, perhaps, you'll be good enough

to go and tell Dr. Glendon...

the missus is hoping he'll come in for tea.

Not a chance, I assure you, of his coming.

- Not a chance, Mr. Hawkins?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes