GE 1997-8 Season 4 Episode 1: Closing the Cabin
Note: this is not a transcript, but a working draft of the script, so there may be differences in the aired version.
SFX:	The great out-of-doors, The Moth Cabin

PAUL:	Sixty miles west of St. John's, up the Maginott Line, down Brunell's 
	lane and on to Three Pond Pond -  I'm at the family cottage, the cabin.  
	Alas summer has ended and the final duties fall to me, I've got to close 
	her up.  Always a melancholy enterprise this, autumn approaches and we 
	will the sooner be dead.  (sigh)

SFX:	Cross to footsteps.

PAUL:	My dipsomaniac Aunt Gert is, as I speak, driving Mom home, joining 
	the legion of townies heading east on the TCH to suburban heaps, soul 
	destroying jobs and school.  The owners of the thirteen cabins around 
	this beautiful pond are all gone now ....

NEIGH:	(from across pond) Hey Paul.

PAUL:	Insufferable oaf.

NEIGH:	What are doin?


NEIGH:	You're closing her up are ya.

PAUL:	YEEES!  Stop hounding me.  It was a descent summer.  How many more 
	does Mom have ..

NEIGH:	Ya I'm closing her up too.

PAUL:	Last year was a bit of bust, what with the arrival of jet skis 
	on our little pool in paradise, but my brother Frank showed some 
	initiative this spring and strung some piano wire from the wharf 
	over to Divil's Rock, nipping or clipping I suppose that problem 
	in the buds.  Ouch. 

SFX:	More cross.

PAUL:	It is so peaceful out here, I'm glad that through the magic of 
	recording I can share this with you.  Back in the early seventies I 
	tried to winter up here, do some writing and ... well how quickly this 
	iydll became a living hell.  Anyway to the tasks at hand. 

SFX:	Paul grunting, getting down on hands and knees.

PAUL:	Odd that in a land cursed with an abundance of water getting the 
	stuff up to shack should be such a hassle.  Dad, in his wisdom, put 
	the main valve in the crawl space under the cabin.  When my adolesence 
	was in early bloom I used come down here to ... amuse myself.  Ah look 
	an old Eaton catalogue for inspiration (turning noisy pages) OOOoh saddle 
	shoes.    Now if I could just ... ah ... (Paul getting stuck) ... ah .... 
	(panting, panic sets in) ... ah .. ahhhhhhhHHHHH! 

SFX:	water lapping, footsteps on wharf

PAUL:	Every May 24th it's the same, Mom insists that the boat be taken 
	from the shed and put in the water for the summer.  Though it did come 
	in handy when Frank strung the piano wire it doesn't often see much use 
	and getting it up out of the pond is no picnic.  First I'll take off 
	the motor.  Look at this beauty an old single stroke Vulva-Penta engine.  
	Now if I could just .... woooow ..... ha ha ..... that's a close one 

SFX:	splash.  tape failing

PAUL:	Unting uck.  

SFX:	cross to Paul struggling to drag boat as tape comes back up 
	to speed.  Mosquitos torment him.

PAUL:	... a real holiday would be staying back in town, clear of the 
	yomyocks and yokels up in the g.d. woods.  STUPID BLEEDING BOAT! (notices 
	tape working) Oh look at that, Krupps Recordengroupen Aufgahmein Gmbh, you 
	just can't beat that teutonic technology, made to last a thousand years 
	they say  ... 

SFX:	handling noise.

PAUL:	Returning the boat to shed for the winter a ritual marked in an ancient 
	fashion, smoking out the resident wasps, not unlike the lighting of insence

SFX:	shed door openning, Paul grunts, lighting of matches, wasps are 
	soon upon him.  

PAUL:	Get the ... jes... unt... crimey.... YAUUUUUGH.

SFX:	tinder crackles.

PAUL:	Oh this is bad.

SFX:	Shed is ablaze.