Misery (1990)

by William Goldman. Based on the Novel by Stephen King.

FADE IN ON

A SINGLE CIGARETTE. A MATCH. A HOTEL ICE BUCKET that holds a

bottle of champagne. The cigarette is unlit. The match is of

the kitchen variety. The champagne, unopened, is Dom

Perignon. There is only one sound at first: a strong WIND --

-- now another sound, sharper -- a sudden burst of TYPING as

we

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

PAUL SHELDON typing at a table in his hotel suite. It's

really a cabin that's part of a lodge. Not an ornate place.

Western themed.

He is framed by a window looking out at some gorgeous

mountains. It's afternoon. The sky is grey. Snow is

scattered along the ground. We're out west somewhere. The

WIND grows stronger -- there could be a storm.

PAUL pays no attention to what's going on outside as he

continues to type.

He's the hero of what follows. Forty-two, he's got a good

face, one with a certain mileage to it. We are not, in other

words, looking at a virgin. He's been a novelist for

eighteen years and for half that time, the most recent half,

a remarkably successful one.

He pauses for a moment, intently, as if trying to stare a

hole in the paper. Now his fingers fly, and there's another

burst of TYPING. He studies what he's written, then --

CUT TO

THE PAPER, as he rolls it out of the machine, puts it on the

table, prints, in almost childlike letters, these words:

THE END

CUT TO

A PILE OF MANUSCRIPT at the rear of the table. He puts this

last page on, gets it straight and in order, hoists it up,

folds it to his chest, the entire manuscript -- hundreds of

pages.

CUT TO

PAUL, as he holds his book to him. He is, just for a brief

moment, moved.

CUT TO

A SUITCASE across the room. PAUL goes to it, opens it and

pulls something out from inside: a battered leather

briefcase. Now he takes his manuscript, carefully opens the

briefcase, gently puts the manuscript inside. He closes it,

and the way he handles it, he might almost be handling a

child. Now he crosses over, opens the champagne, pours

himself a single glass, lights the one cigarette with the

lone match -- there is a distinct feeling of ritual about

this. He inhales deeply, makes a toasting gesture, then

drinks, smokes, smiles.

HOLD BRIEFLY, then --

CUT TO

LODGE - DAY

PAUL -- exiting his cabin. He stops, makes a snowball,

throws it, hitting a sign.

PAUL

Still got it.

He throws a suitcase into the trunk of his '65 MUSTANG and,

holding his leather case, he hops into the car and drives

away.

CUT TO

A SIGN that reads "Silver Creek Lodge." Behind the sign is

the hotel itself -- old, desolate. Now the '65 Mustang comes

out of the garage, guns ahead toward the sign. As "Shotgun"

by Jr. Walker and the Allstars starts, he heads off into the

mountains.

CUT TO

THE SKY. Gun-metal grey. The clouds seem pregnant with snow.

CUT TO

PAUL, driving the Mustang, the battered briefcase on the

seat beside him.

CUT TO

THE ROAD AHEAD. Little dainty flakes of snow are suddenly

visible.

CUT TO

THE CAR, going into a curve and

CUT TO

PAUL, driving, and as he comes out of the curve, a stunned

look hits his face as we

CUT TO

THE ROAD AHEAD -- and here it comes -- a mountain storm;

it's as if the top has been pulled off the sky and with no

warning whatsoever, we're into a blizzard and

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG, slowing, driving deeper into the mountains.

CUT TO

PAUL, squinting ahead, windshield wipers on now.

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG, rounding another curve, losing traction --

CUT TO

PAUL, a skilled driver, bringing the car easily under

control.

CUT TO

THE ROAD. Snow is piling up.

CUT TO

PAUL driving confidently, carefully. Now he reaches out,

ejects the tape, expertly turns it over, pushes it in and,

as the MUSIC continues, he hums along with it.

CUT TO

THE SKY. Only you can't see it.

There's nothing to see but the unending snow, nothing to

hear but the wind which keeps getting wilder.

CUT TO

THE ROAD. Inches of snow on the ground now. This is desolate

and dangerous.

CUT TO

PAUL, driving.

CUT TO

THE SNOW. Worse.

CUT TO

THE ROAD, curving sharply, dropping. A sign reads: "Curved

Road, Next 13 Miles."

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG, coming into view, hitting the curve -- no

problem -- no problem at all -- and then suddenly, there is

a very serious problem and as the car skids out of control

--

CUT TO

PAUL, doing his best, fighting the conditions and just as it

looks like he's got things going his way --

CUT TO

THE ROAD, swerving down and

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG, all traction gone and

CUT TO

PAUL, helpless and

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG, skidding, skidding and

CUT TO

THE ROAD as it drops more steeply away and the wind whips

the snow across and

CUT TO

THE MUSTANG starting to spin and

CUT TO

THE MOUNTAINSIDE as the car skids off the road, careens

down, slams into a tree, bounces off, flips, lands upside

down, skids, stops finally, dead.

HOLD ON THE CAR A MOMENT.

There is still the sound of the WIND, and there is still the

music coming from the tape, perhaps the only part of the car

left undamaged. Nothing moves inside. There is only the WIND

and the TAPE. The wind gets louder.

CUT TO

THE WRECK looked at from a distance. The MUSIC sounds are

only faintly heard.

CUT TO

THE AREA WHERE THE WRECK IS -- AS SEEN FROM THE ROAD. The

car is barely visible as the snow begins to cover it.

CUT TO

THE WRECK from outside, and we're close to it now, with the

snow coming down ever harder -- already bits of the car are

covered in white.

CAMERA MOVES IN TO

PAUL. He's inside and doing his best to fight is, but his

consciousness is going. He tries to keep his eyes open but

they're slits.

Slowly, he manages to reach out with his left arm for his

briefcase --

-- and he clutches it to his battered body. The MUSIC

continues on.

But PAUL is far from listening. His eyes flutter, flutter

again. Now they're starting to close.

The man is dying.

Motionless, he still clutches the battered briefcase.

HOLD ON THE CASE. Then --

DISSOLVE TO

The BRIEFCASE in Paul's hands as he sits at a desk.

SINDELL (o-s)

What's that?

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

We are in New York City in the office of Paul's literary

agent, MARCIA SINDELL. The walls of the large room are

absolutely crammed with book and movie posters, in English

and all other kinds of other languages, all of them

featuring the character of MISERY CHASTAIN, a perfectly

beautiful woman. Misery's Challenge, Misery's Triumph --

eight of them. All written by Paul Sheldon.

CUT TO

PAUL, lifting up the battered briefcase -- maybe when new it

cost two bucks, but he treats it like gold.

PAUL

An old friend. I was rummaging through

a closet and it was just sitting there.

Like it was waiting for me.

CUT TO

SINDELL

(searching for a compliment)

It's ... it's nice, Paul. It's got...

character.

CUT TO

THE TWO OF THEM.

PAUL

When I wrote my first book, I used to

carry it around in this while I was

looking for a publisher. That was a

good book, Marcia. I was a writer

then.

SINDELL

You're still a writer.

PAUL

I haven't been a writer since I got

into the Misery business --

SINDELL

(holding up the cover art

of Misery's Child)

Not a bad business. This thing would

still be growing, too. The first

printing order on Misery's Child was

the most ever -- over a million.

PAUL

Marcia, please.

SINDELL

No, no. Misery Chastain put braces on

your daughter's teeth and is putting

her through college, bought you two

houses and floor seats to the Knick

games and what thanks does she get?

You go and kill her.

PAUL

Marcia, you know I started "Misery"

on a lark. Do I look like a guy who

writes romance novels? Do I sound

like Danielle Steel? It was a one-time

shot and we got lucky. I never meant

it to become my life. And if I hadn't

gotten rid of her now, I'd have ended

up writing her forever.

(touches his briefcase)

For the first time in fifteen years, I

think I'm really onto something here.

SINDELL

I'm glad to hear that, Paul, I really

am. But you have to know -- when your

fans find out that you killed off their

favorite heroine, they're not going to

say, "Ooh, good, Paul Sheldon can

finally write what we've always wanted:

an esoteric, semi-autobiographical

character study.

PAUL

(passionately)

Marcia, why are you doing this to me?

Don't you know I'm scared enough?

Don't you think I remember how nobody

gave a shit about my first books? You

think I'm dying to go back to shouting

in the wilderness?

(beat)

I'm doing this because I have to.

(Marcia is stopped)

Now, I'm leaving for Colorado to try

to finish this and I want your good

thoughts -- because if I can make it

work ...

(beat)

I might just have something that I

want on my tombstone.

On the word "tombstone"

CUT TO

PAUL'S TOMBSTONE -- the upside down car with the blizzard

coming gale-force and his motionless body trapped inside the

car.

The WIND screams. PAUL'S EYES flutter, then close.

HOLD

KEEP HOLDING AS --

Suddenly there's a new sound as a crowbar SCRATCHES at the

door --

-- and now the door is ripped open as we

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

A BUNDLED-UP FIGURE gently beginning to pull PAUL and the

case from the car. For a moment, it's hard to tell if it's a

man or woman --

-- not to let the cat out of the bag or anything, but it is,

very much, a woman. Her name is ANNIE WILKES and she is

close to Paul's age. She is in many ways a remarkable

creature. Strong, self-sufficient, passionate in her likes

and dislikes, loves and hates.

CUT TO

PAUL AND ANNIE as she cradles him in her arms. Once he's

clear of the car, she lays him carefully in the snow.

CUT TO

PAUL AND ANNIE: CLOSE UP. She slowly brings her mouth down

close to his. Then their lips touch as she forces air inside

him.

ANNIE

(Their lips touch again.

Then --)

You hear me -- Breathe! I said breathe!!!

CUT TO

PAUL, as he starts to breathe --

-- in a moment his eys suddenly open wide, but he's in

shock, the eyes see nothing --

CUT TO

ANNIE -- the moment she sees him come to life, she goes into

action, lifting PAUL in a fireman's carry, starting the

difficult climb back up the steep hill.

As she moves away, she and Paul are obliterated by the white

falling snow.

DISSOLVE TO

THE WHITE OF WHAT SEEMS LIKE A HOSPITAL. Everything is bled

of color. It's all vague --

-- we are looking at this from Paul's blurred vision.

And throughout this next sequence, there are these SOUNDS,

words really, but they make no sense.

"...no...worry...

...be...fine...

...good care...you...

...I'm your number one fan..."

The first thing we see during this is something all white.

It takes a moment before we realize it's a ceiling.

Now, a white wall.

An I.V. bottle is next, the medicine dripping down a tube

into PAUL'S LEFT ARM. The other arm is bandaged and in a

sling.

ANNIE is standing beside the bed. She wears off-white and

seems very much like a nurse. A good nurse. She has pills in

her hands.

CUT TO

PAUL. Motionless, dead pale. He has a little beard now. Eyes

barely open, he's shaking with fever.

PAUL

(hardly able to whisper)

...where...am I...?

ANNIE is quickly by his side.

ANNIE

(so gently)

Shhh...we're just outside Silver Creek.

PAUL

How long...?

ANNIE

You've been here two days. You're

gonna be okay.

(relieved)

My name is Annie Wilkes and I'm --

PAUL

-- my number one fan.

And now the gibberish words make sense.

ANNIE

That's right. I'm also a nurse. Here.

(Now, as she brings the

pills close)

Take these.

She helps him to swallow, as Paul's eyes close.

DISSOLVE TO

AN EXTERIOR OF THE PLACE. It's a farmhouse -- we're in a

desolate area with mountains in the background.

THE HOUSE is set on a knoll so that Paul's room, although on

the first floor, is ten feet off the ground.

CUT TO

PAUL, in the room. He's not on the I.V. anymore. His fever

has broken. Annie enters, pills in her hand.

ANNIE

Here.

PAUL

What are they...?

ANNIE

They're called Novril -- they're for

your pain. (helps him take them)

ANNIE applies a cool rag to his forehead.

PAUL

Shouldn't I be in a hospital?

ANNIE

The blizzard was too strong. I couldn't

risk trying to get you there. I tried

calling, but the phone lines are down.

PAUL tries to test his left arm.

ANNIE

(Gently, her fingers go

to his eyelids, close

them)

Now you mustn't tire yourself. You've

got to rest, you almost died.

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP. Sometimes her face shows the most

remarkable compassion. It does now.

HOLD ON IT briefly.

DISSOLVE TO

CLOSE UP ON PILLS IN ANNIE'S HAND.

ANNIE (o-s)

Open wide.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM

He lies in bed. His fever is gone, but he's terribly weak.

CUT TO

ANNIE. As she lays the pills on PAUL'S TONGUE, she gives him

a glass of water from the nearby bed table.

CUT TO

PAUL, swallowing eagerly.

CUT TO

ANNIE, watching him, sympathetically.

ANNIE

Your legs just sing grand opera when

you move, don't they?

(Paul says nothing, but

his pain is clear)

It's not going to hurt forever, Paul,

I promise you.

PAUL

Will I be able to walk?

ANNIE

Of course you will. And your arm will

be fine, too. Your shoulder was

dislocated pretty badly, but I finally

popped it back in there.

(proudly)

But what I'm most proud of is the work

I did on those legs. Considering what

I had around the house, I don't think

there's a doctor who could have done

any better.

And now suddenly she flicks off the blankets, uncovering his

body.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring, stunned at the bottom half of his body as we

CUT TO

PAUL'S LEGS. From the knees down he resembles an Egyptian

mummy -- she's splinted them with slim steel rods that look

like the hacksawed remains of aluminum crutches and there's

taping circling around.

From the kness up they're all swollen and throbbing and

horribly bruised and discolored.

CUT TO

PAUL, lying back, stunned with disbelief.

ANNIE

It's not nearly as bad as it looks.

You have a compound fracture of the

tibia in both legs, and the fibula

in the left leg is fractured too. I

could hear the bones moving, so it's

best for your legs to remain immobile.

And as soon as the roads open, I'll

take you to a hospital.

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP.

ANNIE

In the meantime, you've got a lot of

recovering to do, and I consider it

an honor that you'll do it in my home.

HOLD ON HER ECSTATIC FACE. Then --

CUT TO

MISERY'S PERFECT FACE. We're back in SINDELL's office in New

York. The office looks just the same, posters and

manuscripts all over. But she doesn't.

She holds the phone and she is fidgety, insecure.

SINDELL

This is Marcia Sindell calling from

New York City. I'd like to speak to

the Silver Creek Chief of Police or

the Sheriff.

MALE VOICE (o-s)

Which one do you want?

SINDELL

Whichever one's not busy.

CUT TO

A SMALL OFFICE IN SILVER CREEK

... with a view of the mountains.

A MARVELOUS LOOKING MAN sits at a desk, by himself, holding

the phone. In his sixties, he's still as bright, fast and

sassy as he was half-a-lifetime ago. Never mind what his

name is, everyone calls him BUSTER.

BUSTER

I'm pretty sure they're both not

busy, Ms. Sindell, since they're

both me. I also happen to be

President of the Policeman's

Benefit Association, Chairman of

the Patrolman's Retirement Fund,

and if you need a good fishing

guide, you could do a lot worse;

call me Buster, everybody does,

what can I do for you?

CUT TO

SINDELL in her office. She pushes the speakerphone, gets up,

paces; she's very hesitant when she speaks about Paul.

Almost embarrassed --

SINDELL

I'm a literary agent, and I feel

like a fool calling you, but I

think one of my clients, Paul

Sheldon, might be in some kind of

trouble.

BUSTER

Paul Sheldon? You mean Paul Sheldon

the writer?

SINDELL

Yes.

BUSTER

He's your client, huh?

SINDELL

Yes, he is.

CUT TO

BUSTER'S OFFICE

He rolls a penny acrossthe back of one hand -- he's very

good at it, doesn't even look while he does it.

BUSTER

People sure like those Misery books.

SINDELL

I'm sure you know Paul's been going

to the Silver Creek Lodge for years

to finish his books.

BUSTER

Yeah, I understand he's been up here

the last six weeks.

SINDELL

Not quite. I just called, and they

said he checked out five days ago.

Isn't that a little strange?

BUSTER

I don't know. Does he always phone

you when he checks out of hotels?

CUT TO

SINDELL, really embarrassed now.

SINDELL

No, no, of course not. It's just

that his daughter hasn't heard

from him, and when he's got a book

coming out, he usually keeps in

touch. So when there was no word

from him...

BUSTER

You think he might be missing?

SINDELL

(shakes her head)

I hate that I made this call -- tell

me I'm being silly.

CUT TO

BUSTER. He nods as a WOMAN enters, carrying lunch. It's his

wife, VIRGINIA. She begins putting the food down on a table

for the both of them.

BUSTER

Just a little over-protective,

maybe.

(beat)

Tell you what -- nothing's been

reported out here --

(he puts Paul Sheldon's

name with a ? on a 3 x 5

card)

-- but I'll put his name through

our system.

(he tacks the card to a

bulletin board)

And if anything turns up, I'll call

you right away.

CUT TO

SINDELL. She smiles, a genuine sense of relief.

SINDELL

I appreciate that. Thanks a lot.

CUT TO

BUSTER.

BUSTER

G'bye, Ms. Sindell.

As he hangs up --

VIRGINIA

We actually got a phone call. Busy

morning.

BUSTER

(smiles)

Work, work, work.

(gives her a hug)

Virginia? When was that blizzard?

VIRGINIA

Four or five days ago. Why?

CUT TO

BUSTER. The penny flies across the back of his hand. He

doesn't look at it, stares instead out the window at the

mountains.

BUSTER

(a beat)

...no reason...

HOLD ON BUSTER for a moment.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

PAUL'S VOICE

(soft)

I guess it was kind of a miracle...

you finding me...

ANNIE's soft, sweet laughter is heard. She stands over him,

finishing shaving him with a very sharp straight razor. She

wears what we will come to know as her regular costume --

plain wool skirts, grey cardigan sweaters.

ANNIE

No, it wasn't a miracle at all...

in a way, I was following you.

PAUL

Following me?

ANNIE concentrates on shaving him with great care; she has

wonderful, strong hands.

ANNIE

(explaining, normally)

Well, it wasn't any secret to me that

you were staying at the Silver Creek,

seeing as how I'm your number-one fan

and all. Some nights I'd just tool on

down there, sit outside and look up at

the light in your cabin --

(gently moves his head back,

exposing his neck; this next

is said with total sincerity,

almost awe)

and I'd try to imagine what was going

on in the room of the world's greatest

writer.

PAUL

Say that last part again, I didn't

quite hear-

ANNIE

(smiles)

Don't move now -- wouldn't want to hurt

this neck --

(shaving away)

Well, the other afternoon I was on my

way home, and there you were, leaving

the Lodge, and I wondered why a literary

genius would go for a drive when there

was a big storm coming.

PAUL

I didn't know it was going to be a big

storm.

ANNIE

Lucky for you, I did.

(pauses)

Lucky for me too. Because now you're

alive and you can write more books.

Oh, Paul, I've read everything of

yours, but the Misery novels...

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP

ANNIE

I know them all by heart, Paul, all

eight of them. I love them so.

CUT TO

PAUL, looking at her. There's something terribly touching

about her now.

PAUL

You're very kind...

ANNIE

And you're very brilliant, and you

must be a good man, or you could

never have created such a wondrous,

loving creature as Misery Chastain.

(runs her fingers over

his cheek)

Like a baby.

(smiles)

All done.

(starts to dab away the

last bits of soap)

ANNIE starts cleaning up.

PAUL

When do you think the phone lines'll

be back up? I have to call my daughter,

and I should call New York and let my

agent know I'm breathing.

ANNIE

It shouldn't be too much longer.

(gently)

Once the roads are open, the lines'll

be up in no time. If you give me their

numbers, I'll keep trying them for you.

(suddenly almost

embarrassed)

Could I ask you a favor?

(Paul nods)

I noticed in your case there was a new

Paul Sheldon book and...

(hesitant)

and I wondered if maybe...

(her voice trails off)

PAUL

You want to read it?

ANNIE

(quietly)

If you wouldn't mind.

PAUL

I have a hard and fast rule about who

can read my stuff at this early stage --

only my editor, my agent, and anyone

who saves me from freezing to death in

a car wreck.

ANNIE

(genuinely thrilled)

You'll never realize what a rare treat

you've given me.

CUT TO

PAUL. His eyes close briefly, he grimaces.

CUT TO

ANNIE, watching him, concerned. She glances at her watch.

ANNIE

Boy, it's like clockwork, the way

your pain comes -- I'll get you your

Novril, Paul. Forgive me for

prattling away and making you feel

all oogy.

She turns and goes out of the room.

CUT TO

PAUL, watching her.

ANNIE (o-s)

What's your new book called?

PAUL

I don't have a title yet.

ANNIE (o-s)

What's it about?

PAUL

(fast)

It's crazy, but I don't really know,

I mean I haven't written anything but

"Misery" for so long that -- you read

it you can tell me what you think it's

about. Maybe you can come up with a

title.

ANNIE

(in the doorway)

Oh, like I could do that?

CUT TO

THE MANAGER'S OFFICE AT THE SILVER CREEK LODGE

Small, neat, one window -- outside, snow covers all.

BUSTER AND LIBBY, THE MANAGER, are going over books and

records. Libby is an old guy, walks with a cane.

LIBBY

Nothing unusual about Mr. Sheldon's

leaving, Buster -- you can tell by

the champagne.

BUSTER

Maybe you can, Libby.

LIBBY

No, see, he always ordered a bottle

of Dom Perignon when he was ready to

go. Then he'd pay up and be out the

door.

BUSTER

No long-distance phone calls, Federal

Express packages -- anything at all

out of the ordinary?

LIBBY

(head shake)

I don't think Mr. Sheldon likes for

things to be out of the ordinary.

Considering who he is and all, famous

and all, he doesn't have airs. Drives

the same car out from New York each

time -- '65 Mustang -- said it helps

him think. He was always a good

guest, never made a noise, never

bothered a soul. Sure hope nothing

happened to him.

BUSTER

So do I...

LIBBY

I'll bet that old Mustang's pulling

into New York right now.

BUSTER

I'm sure you're right.

But you can tell he's not sure at all as we

CUT TO

A SPOON FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH BEEF BARLEY SOUP.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

He lies in bed. Sun comes in the lone window. ANNIE sits on

the bed, a large bowl of soup in her hands, feeding him.

ANNIE

(almost shy about this)

I know I'm only forty pages into

your book, but...

She stops, fills the spoon up again.

PAUL

But what?

ANNIE

Nothing.

PAUL

No, what is it?

ANNIE

Oh, it's ridiculous, who am I to make

a criticism to someone like you?

PAUL

I can take it, go ahead.

ANNIE

Well, it's brilliantly written, but

then everything you write is brilliant.

PAUL

Pretty rough so far.

ANNIE

(a burst)

The swearing, Paul.

(beat)

There, I said it.

PAUL

The profanity bothers you?

ANNIE

It has no nobility.

PAUL

Well, these are slum kids, I was a

slum kid, everybody talks like that.

CUT TO

ANNIE. She holds the soup bowl in one hand, the

muddy-colored beef barley soup close to spilling.

ANNIE

They do not. What do you think I say

when I go to the feed store in town?

"Now, Wally, give me a bag of that

effing pigfeed and ten pounds of that

bitchly cow-corn" --

PAUL is amused by this.

CUT TO

THE SOUP, almost spilling as she gets more agitated.

ANNIE

-- and in the bank do I tell Mrs.

Bollinger, "Here's one big bastard of

a check, give me some of your Christing

money."

CUT TO

PAUL, almost laughing as some soup hits the coverlet.

ANNIE

(seeing the spill,

suddenly upset)

There! Look there! See what you made

me do!

CUT TO

PAUL -- his smile disappears.

CUT TO

ANNIE, and she is just totally embarrassed.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Sometimes I get so worked up. Can you

ever forgive me? Here...

She hands him his pills and starts to clean the soup off the

coverlet. Then she makes the sweetest smile.

ANNIE

I love you, Paul.

(more embarrassed than

ever)

Your mind. Your creativity --

that's all I meant.

Flustered, she turns away as we --

CUT TO

A ROAD IN THE MOUNTAINS. Piles of snow all around but it's

been ploughed enough so it's driveable.

CUT TO

A CAR coming into view. Up ahead is the sign we've already

seen: "Curved Road, Next 13 Miles."

CUT TO

INSIDE THE CAR.

BUSTER AND HIS WIFE VIRGINIA: Virginia is driving while

Buster intently studiesthe terrain. He reaches fora large

thermos, pours some coffee, offers it to her. She shakes her

head. He begins to sip it.

VIRGINIA

This sure is fun.

She puts her hand on his leg.

BUSTER

(removing it)

Virginia, when you're in this car,

you're not my wife, you're my

deputy.

VIRGINIA

Well, this deputy would rather be

home under the covers with the

Sheriff.

CUT TO

THE CAR. Suddenly, it goes into a little icy spin -- she

fights it back under control.

CUT TO

INSIDE THE CAR.

BUSTER

(suddenly)

Stop -- stop right here.

VIRGINIA

What? What is it?

CUT TO

THE CAR, skidding, slowing, stopping. BOTH OF THEM get out,

go to the edge of the road. Mountains of snow. Nothing much

else visible. Then Buster points.

BUSTER

Look at that broken branch there...

CUT TO

VIRGINIA, seeing it, unconvinced.

VIRGINIA

Could be the weight of the snow.

BUSTER

Could be -- or a rotten branch or a

mountain lion could have landed on it.

Could be a lot of things.

He steps off the road, starts down.

CUT TO

VIRGINIA, watching him, worried -- it's very slippery.

CUT TO

BUSTER, graceful, in great shape, navigating down easily.

CUT TO

THE TREE that the car ran into. BUSTER reaches it, studies

it.

CUT TO

VIRGINIA, staring out after him -- she can't see him because

the drop is both too steep and covered with trees and mounds

of snow.

VIRGINIA

Anything down there?

BUSTER'S VOICE (o-s)

Yeah. An enormous amount of snow.

CUT TO

BUSTER. He's moved away from the tree now, going toward

where the Mustang is buried.

CUT TO

THE MOUND OF SNOW with the Mustang inside.

CUT TO

BUSTER, making his way closer to it, closer, staring around.

CUT TO

THE AREA. Nothing to be seen -- everything is covered with

mountains of snow. You could have a house down there and not

be able to see it. Just glaring white.

CUT TO

BUSTER, angry, frustrated, turning around and around and

CUT TO

BUSTER from another angle, from behind the mound with the

Mustang inside -- and out of his sight, glistening in the

sun, a bit of the door protrudes. But, of course, Buster

can't see it.

HOLD ON BUSTER, in a sour mood, staring around as the edge

of the door continues to glisten.

CUT TO

VIRGINIA, on the road as Buster makes his way back up, still

ticked.

VIRGINIA

(they move to the car)

You really think Sheldon's out there?

BUSTER

Hope not -- if he is, he's dead. Let's

go to the newspaper office.

As they get in the car --

ANOTHER CAR DRIVING BY -- it's Annie in her Jeep -- neither

she nor Buster notice each other.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

The door opens and ANNIE enters.

ANNIE

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to

wake you.

PAUL

It's fine.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

Paul's eyes fluttering awake to see the hardback copy of his

novel, Misery's Child, in Annie's hands. She's never been

more excited --

ANNIE

They had it at the store, Paul, there

was a whole batch of them there. As

soon as I saw it, I slammed my money

down. I got the first copy.

PAUL

Then the roads are open...

ANNIE

The one to town is, but that's about it.

I called the hospital and talked to the

head orthopedic surgeon. I told him who

you were and what had happened. He said

as long as there's no infection, you're

not in any danger, and as soon as the

road to the hospital is open, they'll

send an ambulance for you.

PAUL

The phones are working?

ANNIE

Well, mine's still out. But the ones in

town were working just fine. I called

that agent of yours.

(soft now)

Oh, Paul, I peeked at the very

beginning.

(looks at him)

What a wonderful first page -- just to

read the name Misery Chastain...

PAUL

My daughter must be going nuts.

ANNIE

...it's like a visit from my oldest,

dearest friend.

PAUL

I was supposed to be home for her

birthday three days ago.

ANNIE

Your agent said she would tell her you

were okay. But I'm afraid you'll have to

wait until tomorrow if you want to speak

to her yourself.

She starts to leave, stops at the door.

ANNIE

(She looks at him now

with almost a look of

amazement)

Oh, Paul, what a poet you are...

As she leaves --

DISSOLVE TO

PAUL, watching as she enters, moves to him, carrying a tray.

ANNIE

I made you my speciality -- scrambled

eggs a la Wilkes. And I'm on page 75.

PAUL

I guess that means it's okay.

ANNIE

No. No, it isn't, it's --

(halts)

-- oh pooh, I can't think of any words.

Would "great" be insulting?

PAUL

I can live with "great."

He starts, with effort, to eat.

ANNIE

(as she turns, goes)

No, it's not just great, it's perfect,

a perfect, perfect thing.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. MID-AFTERNOON.

ANNIE is clearing Paul's tray. She hands him his Novril; he

quickly swallows them.

ANNIE

I'm up to page 185. I always get sad

when I pass the halfway point. Will

you do me a favor? I'd love it if you

would autograph my copy. I already

have your autograph on a picture, but

it would mean so much to me to get it

in person. I know you're right-handed,

so don't worry if it's not so legible.

I'll cherish it anyway.

As PAUL signs the book:

ANNIE

I don't mean to pry, but I've read in

two magazines now where you were seeing

this model who does those disgusting

jeans commercials. And I said it can't

be true. Paul Sheldon would never waste

his time with a trampy woman like that.

PAUL

Well, you can't believe everything you

read in magazines.

ANNIE

I knew it. I knew it wasn't true. Boy,

how do they get away with printing

stuff like that?

PAUL

You'd be amazed at what some people

will believe.

He finishes the autograph, hands the book back to her.

ANNIE

Thank you so much.

PAUL

My pleasure.

DISSOLVE TO

THE WINDOW. LATE - AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT.

CUT TO

THE DOOR. IT opens and guess what -- a sow lumbers in.

CUT TO

PAUL, kind of stunned as this female pig skitters its way

around the room, excited, confused, slipping and sliding.

CUT TO

ANNIE, all smiles and happiness, laughing in the doorway.

ANNIE

I thought it was time you two should

meet. Paul, say hello to my favorite

beast in all the world, my sow, Misery.

PAUL

Misery?

CUT TO

THE PIG, snorting around the room.

CUT TO

PAUL AND ANNIE, watching it.

ANNIE

Yes. I told you I was your number-one

fan.

PAUL

I'm getting to believe you.

ANNIE

This farm was getting kind of dreary,

what with just the few cows and chickens

and me --

(happy)

But when I got Misery here, everything

changed -- she just makes me smile so.

PAUL

She's a fine...uh...pig is what she is...

ANNIE

(scooping up the pig,

holding it tight as she

stands by Paul)

I'm on page three-hundred now, Paul, and

it's better than perfect -- it's divine.

What's the ceiling that dago painted?

PAUL

The Sistine Chapel?

ANNIE

Yeah, that and Misery's Child -- those

are the only two divine things ever in

this world...

PAUL watches as the pig skitters out of the room with ANNIE

in pursuit, happily imitating the pig.

ANNIE

Woink! Whoink! Whuh-Whuh-WHOINK!

CUT TO

PAUL staring after them -- what the hell was that?

CUT TO

THE WINDOW. DUSK.

ANNIE'S VOICE is heard softly.

ANNIE (o-s)

When my husband left me... I wasn't

prepared, it wasn't an easy time...

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

ANNIE, standing at the window, her back to the room.

In bed, PAUL is dealing with a bedpan, peeing.

ANNIE

For a while I thought I might go

crazy.

PAUL

I know how that can be.

ANNIE

I don't know about you, but what I did

to get through it was I dove into work --

days, nights -- night shifts can be

lonely at a hospital. I did a lot of

reading. That was hen I first discovered

Misery. She made me so happy. She made

me forget all my problems.

(She smiles now)

'Course, I suppose you had a little

something to do with that too.

There is a peeing sound.

PAUL

Yeah, well...

He is embarrassed.

ANNIE

(She isn't)

I just kept reading them over and over.

I know when I finish this one -- and

I've only got two chapters to go -- I'll

just turn right to the front page and

start reading it again.

PAUL

I'm...

ANNIE

(She turns around,

moves to the bed)

Done?

PAUL

Yeah, thanks.

ANNIE

No problem.

As she takes the bedpan...

ANNIE

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against

marriage per se. But it would take a

pretty special guy to make me want to

go down the aisle again.

PAUL

Well, it's not something you should

enter into lightly.

ANNIE

It boils down to respect. People just

don't respect the institution of

marriage anymore. They have no sense

of real commitment.

CUT TO

PAUL, attempting to smile. There is not much he can say to

this.

ANNIE

I'd love to stay here and chat, but

I'm right at the end and I gotta find

out what happens.

PAUL

Well, I hope you like it.

ANNIE

Of course I'll like it. Misery's about

to have her child. What's it gonna be,

a boy or a girl? Ooh, don't tell me.

With that, she exits.

CUT TO

THE WINDOW. MOONLIGHT.

CUT TO

PAUL. He's been dozing but now his eyes flutter awake as we

CUT TO

THE DOOR. It opens and ANNIE enters, comes to his bedside.

CUT TO

PAUL. Hard to see. He squints up as we

CUT TO

ANNIE. CLOSE UP: her face is ashen pale.

ANNIE

You...you dirty bird. She can't be

dead. Misery Chastain cannot be dead!

How could you?

PAUL

Annie, in 1871, women often died in

childbirth, but her spirit is the

important thing, and Misery's spirit

is still alive --

ANNIE

(screaming)

I DON'T WANT HER SPIRIT! I want HER!

And you MURDERED her!

PAUL

I DIDN'T...

ANNIE

Then who did?

PAUL

No one -- she just died -- she slipped

away, that's all.

ANNIE

(screaming)

She slipped away? She slipped away? She

didn't just slip away. You did it. You

did it. You did it. You did it. You

murdered my Misery.

And now she has lifted a chair -- it's heavy but she's very

strong -- and she raises it and turns on Paul, and it's high

above her head, and PAUL realizes that this might be it, she

might shatter him with it, crunch his skull -- and that's

just what she seems she's about to do -- and then she swings

it, not against him but against the wall, and it shatters

and she's panting from the effort as she turns on him again,

her voice surprisingly soft.

ANNIE

I thought you were good, Paul, but

you're not good, you're just another

lying old dirty birdie and I don't

think I better be around you for

awhile.

(she crosses to the

door, then stops)

And don't even think about anybody

coming for you, not the doctors, not

your agent, not your family -- because

I never called them. Nobody knows

you're here. And you better hope

nothing happens to me because if I die,

you die.

CUT TO

PAUL, watching as she closes the door behind her. Then there

is a RATTLE OF A KEY and the sound of the door to his room

LOCKING.

CUT TO

ANNIE, getting in her Cherokee and gunning away.

CUT TO

THE ROOM.

PAUL lies still. He looks around the room and listens for

sounds. All he hears are the SOUNDS OF A WINTER NIGHT in the

mountains. After a few beats, he takes a deep breath and

then begins his greatest effort of all: to force his body

out of bed, to make it move.

He's still weak from what he's endured, but that's not the

main thing: it's the pain. Any attempt at movement and his

legs scream. He sags back, lies there still a moment. Slowly

he tries to maneuver his body off the bed. He rolls over

onto his stomach, then tries to lower himself onto the floor

by moving down head first. His good arm hits the floor, and

he is able to hold himself up but, realizing there is no way

to get out of bed without causing tremendous pain, he girds

himself and flings himself out of bed and comes crashing to

the floor.

The pain is excruciating. After he regains his composure, he

slowly crawls toward the door.

He reaches up and tries the handle. It is, in fact, locked.

He awkwardly tries to slam up against the door, but it is

much too painful and to no avail. He crawls back over to the

bed, realizes there's no way to climb back in, then grabs

the blanket from the bed, wraps it around himself, and

closes his eyes.

DISSOLVE TO

BUSTER'S OFFICE. DAY.

He sits alone at his desk on the telephone, staring at the

Rocky Mountain Gazette spread in front of him.

CUT TO

THE NEWSPAPER'S FRONT PAGE.

In a prominent spot on the top is what is most likely a

book-jacket photo of Paul. Above the picture is the

following: "HAVE YOU SEEN PAUL SHELDON?"

BUSTER is on the phone with Marcia Sindell.

BUSTER

No, Ms. Sindell, there's no point in

coming up here now. Everything that

can be done is... Yes, we're working

closely with the state police, and

the FBI has been informed. Right...

Right... As soon as we know anything

we'll let you know. No, it's no

bother. Call anytime. Bye, Ms. Sindell.

VIRGINIA enters, carrying some files.

VIRGINIA

Here's the list of all Sheldon's

credit charges. Nothing after the

Silver Creek.

(With a glance at his

dour face, she

indicates the photo)

Any calls?

BUSTER

Just from his agent.

CUT TO

BUSTER. His eyes flick up to her. An almost imperceptible

shake of the head.

HOLD FOR A MOMENT, then --

FACES. They are distorted, and they come into view but

briefly, then change into the next distorted face. All kinds

-- there is no order to them -- young, Oriental, female,

male, pretty, sad, black, not so pretty, happy, white, old

-- what we HEAR is this:

"...You've changed my life..."

"...I'm your number one fan..."

"...I'm a really big fan of yours..."

"...I'm your biggest fan..."

"...Don't ever stop writing those Misery books..."

"...I've read all your books, but the Miserys... well..."

"...I'm your numbe rone fan..."

"...You've given me such pleasure..."

"...I feel like you're writing just for me..."

AND NOW, IT GETS KICKED UP IN SPEED AND ALL GOES FASTER,

MANY TIMES OVERLAPPING.

"...I love you...I'm your number one fan...I'm your

biggest

fan...We love you...number one...love

you...biggest...love

you...number one...number one... you poor dear thing..."

This last was said by Annie, out of focus, and for a moment,

she stays that way --

CUT TO

THE ROOM, AS IT SNAPS BACK INTO FOCUS -- ANNIE is standing

by the bed. It is dusk.

She wears a dark blue dress and a hat with a sprig of

flowers. Her eyes are bright and vivacious -- the fact is,

this is the prettiest ANNIE WILKES has ever looked.

ANNIE

What are you doing on the floor?

(crossing to the bed)

It's my fault. If I'd had a

proper hospital bed, this never

would have happened. Here, let me

help you back in.

(She lifts him back

into the bed, which

causes considerable

pain)

I know this hurts, but it'll only

take a few seconds. There you go.

Comfy?

PAUL

(in pain)

Perfect.

ANNIE

You're such a kidder. I have a big

surprise for you. But first there's

something you must do.

PAUL

I don't suppose I could have a

little snack while I wait for the

surprise?

ANNIE

I'll get you everything you want,

but you must listen first. Sometimes

my thinking is a little muddy, I

accept that. It's why I couldn't

remember all those things they were

asking me on the witness stand in

Denver.

Now she turns, goes to the doorway, keeping on talking. She

is never out of sight.

ANNIE

But this time I thought clearly. I

asked God about you and God said "I

delivered him unto you so that you

may show him the way."

PAUL

Show me the way?

ANNIE

Yes.

She exits and re-enters wheeling something toward his bed.

It's a charcoal barbecue, the kind you use in summer for

cooking hamburgers. She holds several items in her arms: a

box of Diamond Blue Tip wooden matches, a can of lighter

fluid. And most noticeably, Paul's manuscript.

CUT TO

ANNIE AND PAUL. He watches, mute, as she takes off the

grill, puts the manuscript into the barbecue itself where

the charcoal goes, spritzes it with lighter fluid. The grill

is close enough to the bed for him to reach out and drop a

match.

PAUL

When I mentioned a snack, I was

thinking more along the lines of a

cheese and crackers kind of thing.

CUT TO

ANNIE, looking at him.

ANNIE

Paul, this is no time for jokes. You

must rid the world of this filth.

She hands him the box of kitchen matches.

PAUL

You want me to burn my book?

ANNIE

(she nods)

Yes.

PAUL

You want me to burn my book?

ANNIE

I know this may be difficult for

you, but it's for the best.

PAUL

This isn't difficult, my agent's

made dozens of copies. There's gonna

be an auction on this, and every

publishing house in New York is

reading it now. So if you want me to

burn it, fine. You're not ridding the

world of anything.

CUT TO

ANNIE, watching him.

ANNIE

(quietly)

Then light the match, Paul.

PAUL

No big deal.

ANNIE

So you've indicated. Do it.

CUT TO

THE MATCHES. PAUL'S HANDS are starting to tremble now. He

can't do it.

ANNIE

I know this is the only copy, Paul.

When you were twenty-four you wrote

your first book and you didn't make

a copy, because you didn't think

anybody would take it seriously.

But they did. And ever since you've

never made any copies because you're

superstitious -- it's why you always

come back to the Silver Creek Lodge.

You told that story to Merv Griffin

eleven years ago.

PAUL

You know, Annie, this book never

would have survived without you.

When it gets to new York, there will

be a big auction, and whatever it

brings we can split.

(pause)

God knows you're entitled to it.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul. This isn't about money.

It's about decency and purity. It's

about God's values.

PAUL

You're right. You're right. I don't

know what I was thinking. I'll tell

you what. It doesn't have to be

published. Nobody ever has to see it.

I'll just keep it for myself. No one

will ever have to know it exists.

ANNIE

As long as it does exist, your mind

won't ever be free. I think you

should light the match, Paul.

There is a long silence. PAUL doesn't move.

ANNIE

Can't you see it's what God wants?

She's holding the can of lighter fluid in her hand as she

speaks and absentmindedly flicks a few drops of the fluid on

the bed.

ANNIE

You're so brilliant. I would think

you'd certainly be able to see that.

(More drops fall on

the bed)

We're put on this earth to help

people, Paul. Like I'm trying to help

you.

PAUL watches as the fluid continues to drop on the bed.

ANNIE

Please let me help you.

CUT TO

PAUL. His hands shaking. Almost robot-like, he strikes one.

It flames.

ANNIE

You're doing the right thing, Paul.

CUT TO

THE BARBECUE, as Paul's hand appears, drops the match on the

fluid-soaked manuscript. For a moment -- nothing --

-- and then, KABOOM, the goddam thing practically explodes

and

CUT TO

PAUL, staring, dazed, and as the flames leap higher,

CUT TO

ANNIE, suddenly scared and startled at the heat and the size

of the flames and the full baking heat and

ANNIE

(crying out)

Goodness!

CUT TO

THE BARBECUE. The sound is LOUDER as the flames leap up and

now charred bits of paper begin floating upward and

CUT TO

ANNIE, watching, as more bits of paper rise.

ANNIE

Goodness -- Goodness -- Oh, my

gracious --

And she starts trying to catch them.

CUT TO

A PIECE OF BURNING PAPER in midair, floating against the

gauzy curtain, and for a moment it looks like the curtain

will catch fire and

CUT TO

ANNIE, panicked, racing out of the room, going "Goodness,

heavens to Betsy" --

CUT TO

THE BARBECUE, and what's left of the book.

CUT TO

PAUL, and he cannot take his eyes off the disaster.

CUT TO

ANNIE, hurrying back in, carrying a big bucket, slopping

water as she lifts the bucket.

CUT TO

THE LAST of the manuscript as the bucket of water is tossed

onto it -- there's hissing and steam and as the steam clears

it all looks now like a log in a brackish pond.

ANNIE

Well, isn't that an oogy mess?

As she starts to wheel the barbecue out, suddenly there is a

new and different sound as we

CUT TO

PAUL, head turning toward the window.

CUT TO

ANNIE taking a step toward the window, stopping for a

moment. The sound we're hearing is a motor. A HELICOPTER

MOTOR. And it's getting louder. Annie goes to the window

now, looks toward the sky as we

CUT TO

A HELICOPTER flying along.

CUT TO

INSIDE THE HELICOPTER.

BUSTER and a PILOT are in the machine. Buster has a pair of

binoculars looped around his neck, a map rumpled in his lap.

BUSTER

(pointing out)

That's the Steadman place up there.

(The pilot nods.

Buster points again)

The only other place up here is the

Wilkes farm.

Another nod. The PILOT points down. BUSTER stares through

the binoculars.

WHAT HE SEES: ANNIE'S JEEP parked in front of her house.

CUT TO

INSIDE THE HELICOPTER.

BUSTER

That's no '65 Mustang. There's

nothing else out this way --

circle on back.

As the pilot starts to change direction

CUT TO

ANNIE at the window, watching, as the helicopter turns,

starts off.

CUT TO

PAUL, listening as the MOTOR sound recedes.

CUT TO

ANNIE, staring out the window.

ANNIE

I do believe the winters are getting

shorter and shorter every year.

People say it has something to do

with the ozone layer. What do you

think?

PAUL

I don't know.

ANNIE

Yeah, well, it's a theory. Here's

your Novril.

(she wheels the

barbecue to the

door; stops)

How does tuna casserole sound for

dinner?

PAUL

Great.

She exits. PAUL takes the two Novril, stares at them, then

deliberately tucks them under his mattress.

DISSOLVE TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

As PAUL is finishing the last of his tuna casserole. There

are two Novrils on his tray. We hear strains of TV GAME SHOW

THEME MUSIC. These sounds are not surprising. Paul has heard

them before.

CUT TO

ANNIE'S ROOM. NIGHT.

It is much smaller than Paul's and filled with religious

bric-a-brac, pictures of Paul Sheldon, and a TV on a

portable stand. Annie lies in bed, with an open bag of

Cheetos resting on her stomach and a big quart-sized plastic

bottle of Coke on the nightstand. As she munches away, she

is heavily engrossed in her favorite TV show, "The Love

Connection." As Chuck Woolery extracts the embarrassing

details of a couple's romantic interlude, we

CUT TO

Paul faintly hearing the sounds of the TV. He has now

finished eating. He takes the two Novril from under the

mattress. He then undoes the sheet, takes his fork and

delicately pokes a hole in the mattress, then stuffs all

four pills back into the hole.

DISSOLVE TO

FARMHOUSE.

Coming up to dawn.

CUT TO

PAUL'S DOOR slowly opening.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring at the door.

CUT TO

WHEELS, seen from underneath the bed, being rolled around

the foot of the bed. We realize PAUL is in a wheelchair with

ANNIE pushing him.

ANNIE

See, isn't this nice?

PAUL

Great. I've always wanted to visit

the other side of the room.

ANNIE

And look what I've got for you. An

electric razor so you can shave

yourself now.

PAUL

If I knew this was gonna be the

surprise, you could've gotten me to

burn all my books.

ANNIE

(She hands him some

Novril)

Now don't josh. This is a very big

day for you, Paul. Here. You just sit

tight, and I'll set everything up.

ANNIE exits.

CUT TO

PAUL, quickly shoving the Novril into the mattress.

PAUL

Set what up?

ANNIE (o-s)

That's the big surprise. Your new

studio -- after all, writers do need

a place to work.

PAUL

Work? You mean write? What in the world

do you think I'd write?

ANNIE

Oh, but Paul!

(flushed)

I don't think, I know! Now that you've

gotten rid of that nasty manuscript,

you can go back to doing what you're

great at --

(beat)

-- you're going to write a new novel --

your greatest achievement ever --

Misery's Return.

CUT TO

PAUL. Stunned.

PAUL

(after a beat)

Misery's Return?

ANNIE

I know you didn't mean it when you

killed her, and now you'll make it

right.

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP. In an almost religious fervor.

ANNIE

Yes. It will be a book in my honor.

For saving your life and nursing you

back to health. I'll be the first

one to read it.

(beat)

Oh, Paul, you're going to make me

the envy of the whole world...

CUT TO

PAUL.

PAUL

You just expect me to whip something

off, that it?

ANNIE

(nods)

I expect nothing less than your

masterpiece.

PAUL

You do understand that this isn't the

ordinary way books get written -- I

mean, some people might actually

consider this an oddball situation.

She rolls him over to a table she has set up by the window.

ANNIE

I have total confidence in your

brilliance -- besides, the view will

inspire you.

CUT TO

THE WINDOW, as the wheelchair approaches it.

The sky is innocent of clouds. There's a green forest

climbing the flank of the nearest mountain. A plot of open

ground between the house and the mountain. A neat red barn

where the livestock stay. A Jeep Cherokee, maybe five years

old. A Fisher plow. And no neighbors in sight. This is a

desolate place.

ANNIE (o-s)

You just inhale that. I'll be right

back.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring out the window.

PAUL

(calling out)

I guess you don't get bothered by

neighbors much.

ANNIE (o-s)

Don't worry about that. You'll have

total solitude so you can

concentrate on your work.

PAUL

Great.

CUT TO

ANNIE in the doorway, carrying reams of typing paper,

pencils, pens and sharpener.

CUT TO

CUT TO

PAUL, watching her -- it's all kind of amazing. She hands

him a box of typing paper.

ANNIE

I got you this expensive paper to

type on.

CUT TO

PAUL, looking at the paper. It's Corrasable Bond. An idea

hits him; he masks it as best he can.

ANNIE

(putting the rest

of the paper on the

table)

And I got a great deal on this

fifty-pound clunker -- on account

of it's missing an "n." I told the

saleslady "n" was one of the

letters in my favorite writer's

name.

PAUL

It's two of the letters in my

favorite nurse's name, Annie.

ANNIE

(embarrassed, blushing)

You -- fooler...!

(turns, grabs up pens,

pencils, paper)

Did I do good?

PAUL

(gesturing to the

box of paper)

You did great, except there's just

one little thing -- I can't work

with this paper. It's Corrasable

Bond, it smudges. Maybe you could

go back into town and bring me some

white, long-grained mimeo.

ANNIE

But mine cost the most so I don't

see how it could smudge.

PAUL

(quickly taking a

sheet of paper, making

a pencil mark on it)

C'mere, I'll show you.

As she approaches, he rubs his thumb over the pencil mark.

ANNIE

(looking at it)

Well, it does smudge after all --

isn't that fascinating?

PAUL

I thought you'd be interested. I'd

like you to be in on everything,

Annie. Not just the finished book,

but how it's written.

ANNIE

Thank you for thinking of me.

(She can be so

charming when she

wants)

Anything else I can get while I'm

in town? Any other crucial

requirements that need satisfying?

Would you like a tiny tape recorder?

Or maybe a handmade set of writing

slippers?

PAUL

No, just the paper will be fine.

ANNIE

(suddenly very agitated)

Are you sure? 'Cause if you want,

I'll bring back the whole store

for you.

PAUL

Annie, what's the matter?

ANNIE

What's the matter? I'll tell you

what's the matter. I go out of my way

for you. I do everything to try and

make you happy. I feed you, I clean

you, I dress you. And what thanks do

I get? "You bought the wrong paper,

Annie. I can't write on this paper,

Annie." Well, I'll get your stupid

paper, but you just better start

showing me a little more appreciation

around here, Mister Man.

With that, she throws the ream of paper in PAUL'S LAP,

causing considerable pain.

CUT TO

THE DOOR as she slams it shut, locks it, stomps off and

CUT TO

THE WINDOW. Annie, in a parka, can be seen storming out in

the direction where her Cherokee was parked. She gets in and

drives off.

CUT TO

PAUL. He heaves a sigh, reaches out toward his tortured

knees, then drops his head. He sees something.

CUT TO

A BOBBY PIN on the floor.

CUT TO

PAUL, as he moves toward the bobby pin. Or tries to. It's

brutally hard for him. The chair moves half a foot. Stops.

Paul strains again. Another half foot. Another.

CUT TO

The BOBBY PIN. The wheelchair is beside it now. PAUL reaches

down for it. Can't make it. Tries again. Can't. He takes a

deep breath, forces himself to bend, ignoring the pain. The

bobby pin is in his hands.

CUT TO

PAUL, inserting the bobby pin into the keyhole, beginning to

jimmy the lock.

CUT TO

THE LOCK -- it makes a SOUND -- something has caught.

CUT TO

PAUL, excited, trying to force the bobby pin and he's doing

great-

-until it slips from his hands, falls to the floor again.

PAUL

(furious)

Shit...

CUT TO

THE BOBBY PIN. Paul reaches for it. The pain has him. He

reaches again, involuntarily cries out. But he grabs it,

clutches it tight.

CUT TO

THE KEYHOLE. Paul is trying to jimmy the lock a second time.

No luck.

CUT TO

PAUL. In wild frustration.

PAUL

You've written how to do this --

now do it!

CUT TO

THE KEYHOLE. There is a loud CLICKING sound.

CUT TO

THE DOOR as Paul turns the knob. The door opens a crack.

PAUL

(amazed)

What do you know, it actually works.

CUT TO

PAUL, trying to get out of the room -- but it's a bitch

because in order to get to the lock he had to move the

wheelchair up to the door and in order to get out, he's got

to maneuver it out of the way of the door and every turn of

the chair's wheels is an effort for him. He works at it and

works at it, but his energy is failing him. He's pale,

perspiring. Finally he succeeds, barely forces his way into

the hall.

CUT TO

PAUL, in the hallway outside. He looks around for a phone.

Doesn't see one. He wheels himself over to the front door,

tries it. It's locked from the outside.

PAUL

What a surprise.

He looks off into the living room, and...

CUT TO

THE TELEPHONE.

CUT TO

PAUL, wheeling into the living room. Dark red predominates.

It's a musty room. Over the mantel, a photograph of a

six-year-old ANNIE, with her mother and father in front of

the family car -- a new 1952 Buick. These were happier

times.

The windows have bars on them.

As PAUL begins to wheel as fast as he can toward the phone

--

CUT TO

THE PHONE as PAUL at last grabs for it, gets it, punches the

"operator" button --

PAUL

Operator...

(nothing)

...OPERATOR...

(wildly frustrated)

...Shit!

He shakes the phone. It's terribly light. He picks it up,

turns it over -- it's hollow, just a shell of a telephone.

He stares at it for a long moment, shaking his head, the

disappointment plain.

PAUL

You crazy bitch...

He puts the phone back on the table.

CUT TO

THE GENERAL STORE. DAY.

Annie exits the store, carrying new paper, hops into her

Cherokee and drives off.

CUT TO

THE STUDY, as PAUL enters. He looks around.

It's stuffed with heavy, graceless furniture as well as lots

of coffee tables covered with knickknacks. As he, with

effort, wheels across it --

CUT TO

A shelf of BOOKS. PAUL SHELDON books. EVERY Paul Sheldon

book.

CUT TO

PAUL, pausing, looking at her collection. The only book on

the shelf that isn't his is a large scrapbook. The title on

the back reads "My Life."

He glances back at the shelf as he forces his wheelchair

across the study, and we

CUT TO

A SMALL TABLE with little ceramic doodads on top. The

wheelchair his it, one of the doodads topples -- it's a

penguin, fragile looking, and as it's about to fall to the

floor and shatter --

CUT TO

PAUL, grabbing for it, catching it, putting it back where it

was. He continues his slow way across the room and

CUT TO

THE HALLWAY.

Out in the hallway, on his way toward the kitchen, PAUL

notices a door to his right. He wheels over and surprisingly

it opens. However, this is not a door to the outside of the

house, only a storage pantry. He looks around -- nothing but

canned goods, potato chips, cereals and large plastic Coke

containers, etc. Just as he is about to close the door, he

notices an open cardboard box. He opens the flap and sees

all kinds of prescription drugs. Among them are a couple of

strips of Novril encapsulated in blisters. He grabs them and

stuffs them into his sweatpants. Now he closes the pantry

door and heads to the kitchen.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN.

As PAUL approaches it. He starts to wheel his way in, but he

has trouble.

He backs up slightly, wheels forward again --

-- but the door is too narrow for the chair to fit through.

He pounds his fists on the chair arm, staring as we

CUT TO

THE BACK DOOR. It's at the far end of the kitchen leading to

the outside. It seems somehow less formidable than the front

door did. The windows around the kitchen are barred.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring at the kitchen door --

-- then without warning, he makes his move, starting to

lower himself out of the chair gently to the floor --

-- only it doesn't work that way. It's too awkward, he

doesn't have the strength to maneuver properly --

-- and his body tilts awkwardly out of the chair, slams hard

against the hard floor.

CUT TO

PAUL, crying out in pain as he lands. He lies there for a

moment. Little droplets of sweat are on his forehead now. He

is hurting.

He closes his eyes, gathering strength --

-- and then slowly, very slowly, inch by inch, he moves his

body across the floor toward the kitchen door.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN DOOR. It's still a long way away.

CUT TO

PAUL, ignoring his pain, his awkwardness, making his body

move.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN DOOR. Closer now.

CUT TO

PAUL, growing pale, but he won't stop, and now the door is

just ahead of him, and with his good arm he reaches out and

up and grabs the doorknob --

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN DOOR. Locked solid.

CUT TO

PAUL: CLOSE UP. The disappointment and anger is plain on his

face. His arm drops. He lies still for a moment, panting

from his effort. Then --

CUT TO

PAUL, and his eyes are wide for a moment. You can feel his

wild excitement, as we

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

Sitting on the counter: A SET OF CARVING KNIVES sticking out

of a slotted wooden block.

They seem to be out of reach, but that doesn't stop him. He

starts to crawl over to the counter.

CUT TO

THE ROAD.

ANNIE is driving along in her Cherokee. She is heading home.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN.

Now at the counter, PAUL tries to pull himself up with his

one good arm, but even though he is able to chin himself up

to the top of the counter, he is still unable to reach the

knives. He makes a desperate attempt which sends him

crashing to the floor.

As he starts to force his way up again -- from outside there

comes a sound -- the motor of a car.

CUT TO

OUTSIDE ANNIE's.

ANNIE, driving up to the house.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN.

PAUL, throwing himself back to the floor, starting a wild

crawl back across the kitchen toward the wheelchair and

CUT TO

OUTSIDE ANNIE'S.

ANNIE, getting out of her Jeep and

CUT TO

KITCHEN.

PAUL, crawling, crawling and

CUT TO

OUTSIDE ANNIE'S.

ANNIE, walking around to the back of the Jeep and

CUT TO

KITCHEN.

PAUL, scrambling wildly up into his wheelchair, starting to

get it turned and

CUT TO

ANNIE'S.

ANNIE, opening the back of the Jeep and lifting out several

rectangular boxes of paper and

CUT TO

PAUL, straightened out now, forcing the wheelchair to move,

and now we're into a race, a crazed life-and-death race and

the cuts go fast --

-- and ANNIE closes the door of the car --

-- and PAUL is suddenly stuck, there's no traction on the

rug --

-- now ANNIE, purchases in hand, starts away from the car

for the house --

-- and now PAUL is finally moving toward the bedroom.

-- and ANNIE is moving swiftly toward the front door.

-- She drops one of the packages of paper.

CUT TO

PAUL, still biting down, churning his arms with all the

strength he has left. PAUL'S ARMS, aching, start to turn to

rubber.

CUT TO

ANNIE'S FEET, walking quickly across the snow-covered area

in front of the house and

CUT TO

THE BEDROOM DOOR as Paul gets through it, shuts it, and

attacks the bedroom lock with the bobby pin and

CUT TO

ANNIE, unlocking the front door of the house and

CUT TO

THE BEDROOM DOOR, as it locks and

CUT TO

THE FRONT DOOR, unlocking and

CUT TO

ANNIE balancing the bundles under her chin as she jiggles

the key out of the front door lock and

CUT TO

PAUL, soaked.

ANNIE (v-o)

(her voice from the

hallway, close and

growing closer)

Paul, I've got your paper.

CUT TO

PAUL. He wheels to exactly where he was when she left him.

He at last allows himself a sigh of relief.

CUT TO

THE DOOR as the sound of a lock CLICKING is heard.

ANNIE (v-o)

Just the kind you asked for.

And as the door opens --

CUT TO

PAUL -- looking down. Paul's waistband -- a half a dozen

strips of Novril ominously stick out.

As the door swings open, he quickly covers the Novril with

this hands.

CUT TO

ANNIE, in the doorway, a strange look on her face.

ANNIE

Paul, you're dripping with

perspiration, your color is very

hectic -- what have you been

doing?

PAUL

You know goddam well what I've been

doing -- I'VE BEEN SITTING HERE

SUFFERING. I need my pills.

ANNIE

(tenderly, as she

starts toward him)

Poor dear...Let's get you back in

bed and I'll get them for you.

PAUL

(exploding -- a real

child's tantrum)

I want my pills NOW!

ANNIE

It'll only take a second.

PAUL

I want my pain to go 'way, Annie --

make it go 'way, please Annie --

(She looks at him --

you can't tell if

she's buying it or not)

-- please...

CUT TO

ANNIE. She stares a moment more, then turns, starts for the

door.

ANNIE

(upset)

It just breaks my heart to see you

like this...

CUT TO

PAUL watching, and the instant she is out the door in the

hallway, he stuffs the Novril into his pants.

ANNIE

(o-s, coming closer)

I've done a lot of thinking on the

drive...

CUT TO

ANNIE, entering the room, the Novril in her hand. She is

genuinely contrite.

ANNIE

...and I'm absolutely convinced that

the main reason I've never been more

popular is because of my temper. You

must be so mad at me. The truth now.

She hands him the pills. And rolls him over to the bed.

PAUL

Well, I don't hold grudges. After

all, who doesn't let off a little

steam once in a while.

CUT TO

PAUL putting the pills in his mouth, as she picks him up

from the chair and puts him gently down in bed.

ANNIE

My genius needs his rest before he

writes.

She hands him a pad and pencil.

ANNIE

Here, in case you think of any ideas.

PAUL

Yeah, well I wouldn't expect too much.

ANNIE

Don't be silly. You'll be brilliant.

Think of me as your inspiration.

CUT TO

THE DOORWAY, as ANNIE starts to it.

ANNIE

I have faith in you...

(beat)

...my darling...

On that she turns -- for the first time, a coquettish look

comes to her face.

ANNIE

Catch this --

(she throws him a

kiss -- it's grotesque)

-- ummmm-wahhhh.

CUT TO

PAUL, summoning up all his courage, as he mimes catching it

and forces a smile on. She waves, closes the door.

HOLD ON PAUL. The smile dies. He reaches in and pulls the

two Novril capsules out of his mouth. Now --

CUT TO

THE SOUND OF A HELICOPTER.

CUT TO

INSIDE THE HELICOPTER.

BUSTER AND PILOT flying along. Buster is all bundled up as

he stares out, using the binoculars...

CUT TO

SOMETHING SHINY reflecting the sun.

HOLD AS IT ALMOST BLINDS US -- we're looking at the part of

Paul's Mustang that was revealed by the snow when Buster

almost found the car.

BUSTER

(to Pilot)

Walter, we could be skipping lunch

today.

CUT TO

CRASH SITE.

Paul's car being hoisted by chains from the ground and, as

it starts to rise up into the afternoon air...

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

THE AREA BY THE CAR -- BUSTER is there and a bunch of STATE

POLICEMEN and various MEDIA PEOPLE are there -- Buster

stands with the STATE POLICE CHIEF watching as the car is

hoisted via derrick; the sound of the powerful MOTOR lifting

the car is enormous and as the car keeps rising higher and

higher and PEOPLE take pictures and stare and

CUT TO

THE STATE POLICE CHIEF is addressing maybe a dozen

REPORTERS. It's very cold. BUSTER stands slightly away from

the group.

STATE POLICE CHIEF

The presumption must now be that Paul

Sheldon is dead. We know he somehow

crawled out of his car. But we have

been unable to locate his body in the

vicinity of the crash. We also know

if anyone had found him, they would

have taken him to an area hospital.

His body is undoubtedly out there

buried somewhere in the snow. We'll

find him after the first thaw --

unless the animals have gotten to

him first.

(beat)

I'll take questions.

After the first sentence, a very cold and very unhappy

BUSTER leaves the gathering.

CUT TO

PAUL'S CAR as Buster studies it, especially the area by the

driver's side where there are still dents visible from

Annie's crowbar.

VIRGINIA moves to him now. They exchange a glance, start

walking together toward their car.

CUT TO

THE CHIEF, surrounded -- people are asking questions,

raising hands for attention, and as he answers them --

CUT TO

BUSTER AND VIRGINIA, close together, walking toward their

car.

VIRGINIA

You don't think he's dead, do you?

BUSTER

He might well be. But not the way

they say. He didn't crawl out of that

car by himself. You saw those dents

on the door -- someone pulled him out.

VIRGINIA

It was an old car -- those dents

could have been there forever.

BUSTER

There's two kinds of people that

drive around in old cars: the ones

that can't afford new ones, and the

ones who wouldn't give 'em up for

anything in the world. That second

bunch don't drive around with twenty-

five-year-old dents.

As they drive off...

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

PAUL lies in bed listening to the strains of "The Love

Connection," coming from upstairs. As Chuck Woolery drones

on, Paul is intently involved in folding a piece of paper

from his pad. He is making a container of some sort. He

finishes, then reaches down and grabs the Novril capsules

that he has been stashing in the mattress.

Carefully, he opens one and pours it into the palm of his

hand. First he smells it -- no odor -- then he takes a tiny

bit on a finger and tastes it -- no taste. Then, he takes

his paper container and empties the contents of all the

pills into it, then places it under the mattress.

Now, what to do with the empty capsules. He thinks for a

second, then -- what the hell -- he swallows them. He then

places the packet back in the mattress.

CUT TO

THE TYPEWRITER. DAY.

The window is visible behind it. From this angle, it almost

seems to be staring at PAUL, broken "n" and all. PAUL tests

his wounded arm. He's able to raise it a few inches, but

that's it.

CUT TO

OUTSIDE THE WINDOW.

ANNIE is visible heading for the barn, followed by MISERY,

the pig. For a moment, she stops, turns to look back.

ANNIE

(calling out)

Don't be nervous --

(beat)

-- just remember, I'll treasure

whatever you do.

Now, as she turns again, moves quickly away --

CUT TO

THE TYPEWRITER.

CUT TO

PAUL. He rolls in a piece of paper, types briefly.

CUT TO

WHAT HE'S WRITTEN, AND IT'S THIS:

"Misery's Retur ."

by Paul Sheldo

for A  ie Wilkes.

CUT TO

PAUL, studying the paper. He takes it out, starts to roll in

a new sheet.

CUT TO

THE MACHINE as the new sheet is rolled in.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring at the blank page. He takes a deep breath,

glances outside, then back to the paper.

CUT TO

THE BLANK PAGE.

CUT TO

PAUL, and now there's a brief light behind his eyes and

suddenly he types a burst, stares at what he's written.

CUT TO

THE PAPER and these words: "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."

CUT TO

PAUL. He closes his eyes briefly, mutters something, kind of

nods, opens his eyes, grabs for another piece of paper,

rolls it in and starts mechanically to type.

DISSOLVE TO

A NEW PIECE OF PAPER with the words "Chapter Two" and a half

paragraph of writing as we

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

PAUL WORKING in his room. ANNIE enters, the first pages of

manuscript in her hands. It's dusk.

ANNIE

I'm sorry, Paul. This is all wrong,

you'll have to do it over again.

PAUL

(totally stunned)

What? What happened to "I'll treasure

whatever you do?"

ANNIE

Paul, it's not worthy of you. Throw

it all out except for the part of

naming that gravedigger after me.

You can leave that in.

PAUL

I really value your criticism, but

maybe you're being a little hasty

here.

ANNIE

Paul, what you've written just isn't

fair.

PAUL

-- not fair?

ANNIE

That's right -- when I was growing up

in Bakersfield, my favorite thing in

all the world was to go to the movies

on Saturday afternoons for the chapter

plays...

PAUL

(it just comes out)

-- cliff-hangers --

ANNIE

(suddenly angry)

I know that, Mister Man -- they also

call them serials. I'm not stupid,

you know.

(and she's a child again)

Anyway, my favorite was Rocket Man,

and once it was a no-brakes chapter,

the bad guys stuck him in a car on a

mountain road and knocked him out and

welded the doors shut and tore out the

brakes and started him to his death

and he woke up and tried to steer and

tried to get out, but the car went off

a cliff before he could escape and it

crashed and burned and -- I was so

upset and excited and the next week

you better believe I was first in line

and they always start with the end of

the last week and there was Rocket Man

trying to get out, and here came the

cliff and JUST BEFORE the car went off

he jumped free and all the kids

cheered --

(standing up now)

-- but I didn't cheer, I stood right

up and started shouting, "This isn't

what happened last week -- have you

all got amnesia? -- THEY JUST CHEATED

US -- THIS WASN'T FAIR --"

ANNIE: CLOSE UP. Still in her childhood reverie. Shouting:

ANNIE

"HE DIDN'T GET OUT OF THE COCKADOODIE

CAR!"

PAUL

They always cheated like that in

cliff --

(stops himself)

-- chapter plays.

ANNIE

But not you. Not with my Misery.

Remember, Ian did ride for Dr. Cleary

at the end of the last book, but his

horse fell jumping that fence and Ian

broke his shoulder and his ribs and

lay there all night in the ditch so he

never reached the doctor, so there

couldn't have been any "experimental

blood transfusion" that saved her life.

Misery was buried in the ground at the

end, Paul, so you'll have to start

there.

As she goes --

PAUL

Look at this, I've got Lizzie Borden

for an editor, here.

PAUL slumps, staring barefully at the typewriter.

DISSOLVE TO

OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE. NIGHT.

DISSOLVE TO

OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE. NEXT MORNING.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. DAY.

PAUL is at the table. He takes the Novril off his breakfast

tray, wheels over to the bed, and stuffs them into the

mattress. He hears FOOTSTEPS coming down the hall. He

smoothly wheels back to the table. A pause.

ANNIE enters to remove the tray.

ANNIE

What's the matter, Paul? You haven't

written a word.

PAUL

I can't write this anymore.

ANNIE

Don't be silly. Of course you can.

PAUL

I'm telling you, I can't.

ANNIE

You can -- you have the "gotta" --

PAUL

The what?

ANNIE

The "gotta." Remember, you talked

about it in Playboy magazine. You

said there's a million things you

can't do in this world; you can't

his a curve ball, you can't fix a

leaky faucet or make a marriage

work -- but there's one thing you

always have, and that's the power

of the "gotta."

PAUL

I said that?

ANNIE

You said you can make it so they

gotta turn the page. You know, "I

'gotta' know will she live," "I

'gotta' know will he catch the

killer." "I gotta see how this

chapter ends." You said it. I don't

usually buy that magazine. I only

got it, 'cause they were

interviewing you.

CUT TO

PAUL: CLOSE UP. Blinking.

PAUL

(quietly)

What about a bee...?

ANNIE

What?

PAUL

Nothing.

CUT TO

THE KEYBOARD as the piece of paper slides in and the keys

start to move. Annie stands there for a moment, then quietly

backs out of the room.

DISSOLVE TO

THE WINDOW. It's late afternoon.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

PAUL in the wheelchair watching as ANNIE finishes reading.

PAUL

Well, is it fair? Should I keep

going?

ANNIE

You better. Oh, Paul, when Ian

realized that the reason they'd

buried Misery alive was because

the bee sting had put her in that

temporary coma --

CUT TO

ANNIE, in a fervor.

ANNIE

-- and when Gravedigger Wilkes

remembered how thirty years earlier,

the same thing had happened to Lady

Evelyn-Hyde --

(hands clasped)

-- and then old Dr. Cleary deduced

that Misery must be Lady Evelyn-

Hyde's long-lost daughter because of

the rarity of deadly bee-stings --

my heart just leapt.

CUT TO

PAUL, watching her. It's as if he had nothing to do with

anything she's read as she goes on.

ANNIE

I've known from the very first book

that Misery had to be born of

nobility and I was right!

PAUL

(mumbling to himself)

Yeah, yeah...

CUT TO

THE TWO OF THEM; she touches the pages as if they were gold,

rubbing gently with the tips of her fingers.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul, can I read each chapter

when you finish? I can fill in the

"n"s.

(Paul nods, and

she's off again)

Will she be her old self, now that

Ian has dug her out, or will she

have amnesia...?

PAUL

...have to wait.

ANNIE

Will she still love him with that

special perfect love?

PAUL

Have to wait.

ANNIE

(pleading)

Not even a hint?

Paul shakes his head.

CUT TO

ANNIE, spinning around the room like a happy child.

ANNIE

Misery's alive! Misery's alive. Oh,

it's so romantic -- this whole

house is going to be filled with

romance. I'm going to put on my

Liberace records --

(stops, looks at Paul)

-- you do like Liberace, don't you?

PAUL

(quickly)

Whenever he played Radio City, who

do you think was right there in the

front row?

ANNIE

I'm going to play my records all day

long -- to inspire you -- he's my

all-time favorite.

And with that, she starts to leave.

PAUL

Annie?

She stops at the door.

PAUL

Would you have dinner with me tonight?

She can't speak.

PAUL

To celebrate Misery's return. I

couldn't have done it without you.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul. It would be an honor.

ANNIE dashes excitedly out of the room. PAUL wheels over to

the bed, pulls the packet of Novril poder out from the

mattress and stuffs it in his pants. The sound of Liberace

playing "Tammy" with orchestra and chorus booms in from

beyond the door.

PAUL

Jesus Christ.

CUT TO

BUSTER'S OFFICE. DUSK.

VIRGINIA is on the phone.

VIRGINIA

(into phone)

No, he's not here. I don't know where

he went. He never tells me anything

anymore. He's probably out having an

affair somewhere. Wait a minute. I

think I hear him coming.

BUSTER enters carrying a bagful of books.

VIRGINIA

(to Buster)

It's Jim Taylor. He wants to know who

you've been having an affair with.

CUT TO

BUSTER. He puts the bag down, shoots Virginia a look and

grabs the phone. VIRGINIA looks in the bag.

BUSTER

Hey, Jim, what's doing? Uh-huh...

uh-huh...Jim, we've been over this.

If you're gonna have benches in

front of your store, people are

gonna sit on them. I don't like him

either, but I'm not going to come

over there and tell him to move.

Give my best to Denise. Bye.

VIRGINIA

(looking through the

books; all paperback

Misery novels)

Well, whoever she is, she sure likes

to read a lot.

BUSTER

Virginia, I'm flattered you think I

got that much energy. I just figured

if I can't find Paul Sheldon, at

least I can find out what he wrote

about.

VIRGINIA

What do you expect to find? A story

about a guy who drove his car off a

cliff in a snowstorm?

BUSTER

Now, you see, it's that kind of

sarcasm that's given our marriage

real spice.

CUT TO

STUDY. NIGHT.

PAUL is sitting at a table that Annie has set up with her

best china and silverware. It is as romantic as Annie Wilkes

gets. ANNIE enters, carrying a basket of rolls. She sits and

serves Paul.

ANNIE

I hope you like it.

PAUL

It looks wonderful. And so do you.

ANNIE

Oh...

They eat in awkward silence. Finally:

PAUL

I've never had meatloaf this good,

what do you do to it?

ANNIE

My secret is I only use fresh

tomatoes, never canned. And to give

it that little extra zip, I mix in

some Spam with the ground beef.

PAUL

Oh.

(pause)

You can't get this in a restaurant

in New York.

After another pause:

PAUL

Annie, I think we should have a

toast.

ANNIE

A toast?

PAUL

Yes, to Misery. Let me pour you some

more wine.

Paul pours more of the Gallo wine, then raises his glass.

ANNIE

To Misery.

PAUL

Wait, let's do this right. Do you

have any candles?

ANNIE

Oh, I don't know. I think so. I'll

go look.

She exits into the kitchen. PAUL quickly pulls the pasket

filled with Novril powder from his pants. He empties it into

her glass of wine, stuffs the empty packet back into his

pants, talking the whole time:

PAUL

Did you study decorating, or do you

just have a flair?

ANNIE (o-s)

Oh, you. I just picked things up

over the years.

PAUL

Well, it certainly says you.

ANNIE (o-s)

You really think so?

PAUL

Absolutely. Listen, if you can't

find any, it's okay. I just thought

it might be nice.

ANNIE re-enters with a candle.

ANNIE

Are you kidding? If anyone ever told

me that one day I'd be having a

candlelit dinner with Paul Sheldon

in my own house, I woulda checked

both legs to see which one was being

pulled. Will this do?

PAUL

It's perfect.

She places the candle on the table. With a slight tremor in

her hand, she lights the candle. PAUL raises his glass.

PAUL

To Misery and Annie Wilkes, who

brought her back to life.

ANNIE raises her glass.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul, every time I think about

it, I get goosebumps.

They clink glasses.

And with that, her emotions having gotten the best of her,

she knocks over the candle. In trying to right the

situation, she places her glass back down, and as she

reaches for the candle, she knocks over her glass, spilling

the wine.

ANNIE

(wiping up the

spilled wine with

her napkin)

Oh, God, what have I done? I'm so

sorry, Paul. I ruined your beautiful

toast. Will you ever forgive me?

Here, let me pour another one.

(she does)

Can we pretend this never happened?

To Misery?

PAUL

To Misery.

So they drink their wine.

CUT TO

OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE. DAY.

The snow, although still present, has melted somewhat. And

starting now and continuing throughout is this: the sound of

typing.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

PAUL, working at his typewriter.

CUT TO

THE MANUSCRIPT. Growing.

CUT TO

ANNIE'S BEDROOM. DUSK.

ANNIE, in her room. Reading and loving it.

CUT TO

BUSTER'S DEN. NIGHT.

BUSTER sitting in his den reading a Misery novel by the

fire. VIRGINIA brings him a cup of tea.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. DAY.

PAUL, the sling off, moving his injured arm. It's more

mobile than before. Testing his strength, he uses his arm to

remove the page and place it on the pile. He puts in another

page and continues to type.

CUT TO

ANNIE, entering Paul's room, carrying a chapter. Handing him

a cup of tea.

ANNIE

Paul, this is positively the best

Misery you've ever written.

PAUL

I think you're right.

CUT TO

THE PILE OF PAPER. Bigger.

CUT TO

OUTSIDE THE BARN.

ANNIE, out by the barn. She stares in at the house. Framed

in the window is PAUL, working. She smiles, enters the barn.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

He stretches but only briefly, then back to his typing.

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN.

ANNIE, cooking happily away, reading a chapter.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

PAUL, arm out of the sling. He manages to lift the

typewriter once, sets it back down, puts the sling back on.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. LATER.

ANNIE, bringing a tray of food.

ANNIE

I think it's so wonderful that

Misery would sacrifice her title

to take up the cause of her people.

That's true nobility.

Paul hands her some new pages. As she exits,

CUT TO

BUSTER'S OFFICE.

BUSTER, in his office reading. He is alone.

CUT TO

ANNIE'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT.

Annie is reading by the fire. Her pig Misery sits beside

her, staring at the pages.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. DAY.

His fingers just fly, faster than he's ever typed and

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

PAUL, staring and

CUT TO

THE PILE, growing, growing and

CUT TO

PAUL'S FINGERS

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

PAUL, ripping open a new ream of paper...

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. DUSK.

His lips move silently. He's not even aware of it as he nods

and...

CUT TO

THE PAPER IN THE TYPEWRITER, line after line being written.

INTERCUT WITH

Paul's face at DAY, NIGHT, and DUSK in rapid succession,

ending with

CUT TO

ANNIE'S FARMHOUSE. NIGHT.

Lightning! Giant deep rolls of THUNDER as RAIN begins...

CUT TO

TYPEWRITER being lifted out of frame, then back in, then out

again.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

The pile of manuscript has doubled. Maybe two hundred pages.

PAUL, with some effort, is pumping the typewriter up and

down. Finally, he places it back down and puts his arm back

in the sling.

CUT TO

PAUL, looking outside breifly.

CUT TO

THE RAIN. Worse. The SOUND hits the roof of the house, hits

the window.

CUT TO

ANNIE, lumbering in -- she's never looked lke this: She's

wearing her slippers and her pink quilted housecoat. Her

eyes are without life. Her hair, loose and straggly, hangs

around her face. Slowly, like a robot, she goes to PAUL, who

looks silently up at her.

ANNIE

Here's your pills.

She drops them on the table.

CUT TO

PAUL, as the pills hit his chest and bounce into his lap.

PAUL

Annie, what is it?

CUT TO

ANNIE.

ANNIE

(half turns away,

turns back, gestures

outside)

The rain...sometimes it gives me

the blues.

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP. And suddenly it's as if she's been turned

off, gone lifeless.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring at her. No sound but the rain.

CUT TO

ANNIE, seen straight on. No light in her eyes.

ANNIE

When you first came here, I only

loved the writer part of Paul

Sheldon. But now I know I love the

rest of him too. As much as Misery

loves Ian.

(beat)

I know you don't love me -- don't

say you do -- you're a beautiful,

brilliant, famous man of the world;

and I'm...not a movie star type.

You'll never know the fear of losing

someone like you if you're someone

like me.

PAUL

Why would you lose me?

ANNIE

The book is almost finished. Your

legs are getting better. Soon you'll

be able to walk. You'll be wanting

to leave.

PAUL

Why would I want to leave? I like it

here.

ANNIE

That's very kind of you, but I'll bet

it's not altogether true.

PAUL

It is.

She slowly reaches into the pocket of her bathrobe and pulls

out a .38 Special.

ANNIE

I have this gun, and sometimes I

think about using it.

She is absentmindedly clicking the empty gun.

ANNIE

I better go now. I might put bullets

in it.

Robot-like, she crosses to the door and leaves. As she

closes and locks the door --

CUT TO

PAUL, stunned, listening, waiting --

-- there is the sound of the front door closing --

-- then footsteps on the outside walk --

-- the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut.

Now comes the GUNNING of the motor.

CUT TO

THE WINDOW as ANNIE drives by, hunched over the wheel. The

MOTOR sound grows fainter, faint...

CUT TO

BUSTER AND VIRGINIA'S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

BUSTER AND VIRGINIA are lying in bed. Buster is reading yet

another Misery novel, Misery's Trial. Virginia is also

reading.

BUSTER

"There is a justice higher than that

of man. I will be judged by Him."

VIRGINIA

What?

BUSTER

They're hauling Misery into court.

VIRGINIA

That's nice.

BUSTER

(mutters under

his breath)

"There is a justice higher than that

of man -- I will be judged by Him."

CUT TO

ANNIE'S KITCHEN.

The kitchen KNIVES on the counter.

CUT TO

PAUL, now using both arms, forcing his body up toward them.

This isn't easy, it was a bitch the first time he tried it,

but nothing's going to stop him now. He's leaning against

the cupboard, using it for balance --

-- his balance starts to go but he won't let it as we

CUT TO

THE KNIVES, AS HIS HAND grabs the largest one, a fat-handled

sharp beauty and

CUT TO

PAUL, and you can sense the relief as he begins to lower

himself to the floor.

CUT TO

THE STUDY.

PAUL, back in his wheelchair, knife in his lap, carefully

opening drawers of little tables, looking inside. He closes

them, moves on, unmindful of the rain. Now --

CUT TO

THE SHELF OF PAUL SHELDON BOOKS. As before --

-- except the "My Life" scrapbook is gone.

CUT TO

PAUL, glancing around --

-- and there it is, on a coffee table in the living room.

Also on the table are a roll of Scotch tape, a pair of

scissors, and a copy of Newsweek. Paul wheels toward

thetable and the book, which is as big as a folio

Shakespeare play and as thick as a family Bible.

CUT TO

THE LIVING ROOM.

PAUL, opening the book.

CUT TO

THE FIRST PAGE OF THE BOOK, as Paul opens it. It's a

newspaper clipping as is almost all of what follows. A small

article: simply a birth announcement for Anne Marie Wilkes.

PAUL turns the page. This headline reads: "Investment Banker

Carl Wilkes Dies in Freak Fall."

"USC Nursing Student Dies in Freak Fall." That's the

headline on the next page.

Now: "Miss Wilkes is Nursing School Honors Graduate."

Paul turns the page.

Manchester, New Hampshire, Union Leader: "Ernest Gonyar, 79,

Dies After Long Illness."

Now that phrase seems to be what catches our eye -- "after

long illness" is from the next article. "Long illness" from

the one after that. Then, on the next page, a variation:

"Short Illness."

Now we're in Pennsylvania: "New Hospital Staff Announced."

And here come those phrases again on page after page --

"After Long Illness." "After Long Illness."

"After Long Illness."

CUT TO

PAUL, transfixed; he keeps on turning the pages -- the

states keep changing, moving west. Pennsylvania to

Minnesota, Minnesota to North Dakota. And always the

clippings reporting deaths and deaths and --

-- and now we're in Colorado. "NEW HEAD MATERNITY NURSE

NAMED." And now the dead are young and helpless; babies.

More and more of them.

PAUL

(stunned)

Holy shit.

Then a headline which reads:

"HEAD MATERNITY NURSE QUESTIONED ON INFANT DEATHS"

Next page:	"MISS WILKES RELEASED."

Next page:	"THREE MORE INFANTS DIE"

Next page, at last: "DRAGON LADY ARRESTED."

Then a photo: the front page of the Rocky Mountain Gazette.

Annie on the courthouse steps. "DRAGON LADY CLAIMS

INNOCENCE," under which there is a statement by Annie

Wilkes.

Paul turns quickly to the next page and a very large

headline:

"DRAGON LADY FOUND NOT GUILTY"

PAUL just sits there, shaking his head in bewilderment.

CUT TO

THE BOOK, as Paul turns the LAST page.

CUT TO

PAUL, stunned and now we find out why, as we

CUT TO

THE PAGE IN THE BOOK. It's an article from Newsweek

magazine, a picture of Paul's car being hauled up out of the

snow. Above it this caption: "Presumed Dead -- Paul

Sheldon."

CUT TO

PAUL. Slamming the book shut, putting it back on the coffee

table, then quickly turning his wheelchair as we

CUT TO

PAUL, steering his wheelchair toward the front door. He

tries to position himself for a surprise attack of ANNIE,

but he can't find a way to get close enough. The wheelchair

is too cumbersome. He looks around and decides to head back

to his room. He is faced with the same problem there -- so

he struggles into bed and, lying on his back, he rests the

knife on his chest and stares up at the ceiling.

DISSOLVE TO

PAUL'S WINDOW, hours later. The rain has stopped.

CUT TO

PAUL -- trying to stay awake. After a few beats, he hears

something. It's the sound of a CAR PULLING UP.

HEADLIGHTS can be seen flashing through the window. PAUL

grips the knife and hides it under the covers. The sound of

a CAR DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING, then FOOTSTEPS.

As the FRONT DOOR OPENS, PAUL girds himself for attack. THE

FRONT DOOR CLOSES, then a couple of FOOTSTEPS. Then silence.

Then the FOOTSTEPS continue down the hall and up the stairs.

After a beat, we hear the TELEVISION. Someone is explaining

how you can buy millions of dollars of prime real estate

with no money down.

PAUL, allowing himself to relax, slips the knife under the

mattress. As the TV DRONES ON, Paul lies staring up at the

ceiling.

DISSOLVE TO

OUTSIDE THE FARMHOUSE. NIGHT.

We hear a clap of THUNDER and once again the rain pours

down.

CUT TO

CLOSE UP: PAUL -- eyes closed. There is another loud

THUNDERCLAP which causes Paul to stir and open his eyes.

He turns his head and another CLAP OF THUNDER is heard,

LIGHTNING flashes and reveals ANNIE standing over his bed.

Before he can react, she jabs a needle into his arm, pulls

it out and starts out of the room.

PAUL tries to raise himself, but the power of the drug

causes him to collapse, unconscious.

CUT TO

THE ROOM. EARLY MORNING.

It's stopped raining, PAUL lies asleep. Now, surprisingly,

we hear a VOICE we've never heard in the movie before --

loud -- for an instant we don't recognize the voice, then we

do: It's LIBERACE talking to his audience on a record going,

"Thank you, thank you, what a wonderful thing it is for me

to be back with you in Paris..." PAUL stirs and awakens to

discover that he is strapped to his bed. He can move his

arms, but that's it.

CUT TO

ANNIE, standing in the room, and she looks very together;

her eyes are bright. Too bright. Way too bright.

She comes to the foot of his bed.

CUT TO

PAUL, groggy from being drugged, tries to clear the cobwebs.

ANNIE

(in a soft voice)

Paul, I know you've been out.

PAUL

What?

ANNIE

You've been out of your room.

PAUL

No, I haven't.

ANNIE

Paul, my little ceramic penguin in

the study always faces due south.

PAUL

I don't know what you're talking

about.

PAUL looks up at her -- he is totally honest and sincere. As

he talks, his hand surreptitiously begins moving toward the

mattress edge.

CUT TO

ANNIE, as she brings the fat-handled knife out of her skirt

pocket.

ANNIE

Is this what you're looking for? I

know you've been out twice, Paul.

At first, I couldn't figure out how

you did it, but last night I found

your key.

(She holds up the

bobby pin)

I know I left my scrapbook out, and

I can imagine what you might be

thinking of me. But you see, Paul,

it's all okay.

CUT TO

ANNIE, as she walks slowly back to the foot of the bed.

And now a THUMP comes from the foot of the bed. Something is

out of sight.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring at her; waiting.

ANNIE

Last night it came so clear. I

realize you just need more time.

Eventually, you'll come to accept

the idea of being here. Paul, do you

know about the early days at the

Kimberly Diamond Mine? Do you know

what they did to the native workers

who stole diamonds? Don't worry,

they didn't kill them. That would be

like junking a Mercedes just because

it had a broken spring -- no, if they

caught them they had to make sure

they could go on working, but they

also had to make sure they could

never run away. The operation was

called hobbling.

And with that, she reaches down out of sight and comes up

holding a 16-inch piece of 4 x 4 wood.

PAUL

Annie, whatever you're thinking

about, don't do it.

CUT TO

ANNIE. She wedges the 4 x 4 firmly between his legs, just

above the ankles, secures it and adjusts his feet.

ANNIE

Now don't fuss, Paul.

PAUL

Why would I run away? I'm a writer,

Annie -- it's all I am -- and I've

never written this well -- even you

said that this is my best, didn't

you?

ANNIE picks up a sledgehammer.

PAUL

Didn't you? Why would I leave a

place where I'm doing my best work?

It doesn't make any sense.

CUT TO

ANNIE, positioning herself to the side of his right ankle.

ANNIE

Shh, darling, trust me --

(taking aim at

his ankle)

It's for the best.

She takes the sledgehammer back.

PAUL

Annie, for God's sake, please.

As ANNIE swings, the sledgehammer makes contact with the

ankle. It breaks with a sharp CRACK.

CUT TO

PAUL: CLOSE UP, shrieking.

CUT TO

ANNIE, moving to the other side of the bed.

ANNIE

Almost done, just one more.

And as she breaks the other ankle, PAUL shrieks even louder.

CUT TO

ANNIE: CLOSE UP.

ANNIE

God, I love you...

CUT TO

PAUL'S FACE. He is beyond agony.

FADE TO BLACK.

For a long moment, nothing.

Then...a FAINT SOUND. After a moment, it begins to become

more intrusive and we can tell what it is: a car horn

HONKING.

FADE IN ON

SILVER CREEK and ANNIE in her Cherokee, HONKING for another

car to get a move on.

CUT TO

A HAND AND A COIN MVOING ACROSS IT, from finger to finger.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

BUSTER, sitting by the front window of his office, reading

The Rocky Mountain Gazette.

He watches idly as ANNIE yells out the window to the car in

front of her. THE DRIVER of the car yells back. Annie yells

louder. The Driver guns off, and Annie pulls into the

parking space next to the General Store.

CUT TO

ANNIE, getting out, shaking a fist at the other car, calling

out, "You poop!" She enters the store.

CUT TO

BUSTER, staring straight ahead. Something is gnawing at him.

CUT TO

VIRGINIA, in his office, tidying the desk. BUSTER enters,

looks angry.

BUSTER

Just leave it, all right?

VIRGINIA

Oh, I like that tone.

BUSTER

How many times do I have to tell

you -- I have a system here.

(rooting through a

pile of papers)

Where the hell is that thing?

VIRGINIA

What thing?

BUSTER

That thing.

(finding what he's

looking for, a

3 x 5 card)

Here it is. Right where it's

supposed to be.

VIRGINIA

What is it?

BUSTER

I'm not sure. Maybe nothing.

VIRGINIA

It's good you found it.

BUSTER

There's that spice again.

As BUSTER leaves, VIRGINIA goes back to tidying the desk.

CUT TO

A LARGE LIBRARY as Buster leaves his car, hurries inside and

CUT TO

LIBRARY STACKS.

BUSTER, wearing bifocals, sits poring over bound volumes of

The Rocky Mountain Gazette.

CUT TO

BUSTER, frustrated, puts one set of volumes down, picks up

another, starts through it, as we

CUT TO

THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN GAZETTE, as the pages turn.

-- only now they stop moving.

CUT TO

BUSTER, tense, adjusting his bifocals.

CUT TO

A SERIES OF HEADLINES pertaining to Annie Wilkes' murder

trial.

CUT TO

A HEADLINE which reads, "DRAGON LADY CLAIMS INNOCENCE."

Under a PICTURE OF ANNIE on the courthouse steps, we see a

CAPTION: "Wilkes told reporters on the courthouse steps,

'There is a higher justice than that of man; I will be

judged by Him.'"

CUT TO

BUSTER. He takes the 3 x 5 card out of his pocket.

CUT TO

The CARD -- on it is printed the exact quote we just saw in

the paper.

CUT TO

BUSTER, sitting there, staring at the quote.

BUSTER

Interesting.

HOLD ON HIS FACE, then --

CUT TO

ANNIE, carrying a bag of feed, followed by MISERY, the sow,

comes into view. She slows, smiles, waves --

ANNIE

Hi, Punkin.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring out at her.

ANNIE

Give us a smile?

(Paul gives her the

finger. She laughs)

Such a kidder.

As she exits our view --

CUT TO

PAUL, lifting the typewriter and repeatedly raising it over

his head, this time without any difficulty.

CUT TO

THE GENERAL STORE IN SILVER CREEK. EARLY AFTERNOON.

BUSTER enters. The place is empty. It's one of those

wonderful spots that stocks pretty much everything in what

seems like complete disarray. Buster goes to the coffee urn

behind the counter, helps himself. He speaks to the guy who

sits behind the counter nearby; these two have known each

other forever.

BUSTER

Hey, Pete.

PETE

Buster.

BUSTER

Answer me a couple things?

PETE

If I can.

BUSTER

Do you have any of those new Paul

Sheldon books?

PETE

We had a batch. Sold 'em all in

three days.

BUSTER

You wouldn't happen to remember if

Miz Wilkes bought one, would you?

PETE

Are you kidding? Every time that

fella writes a book, she makes me

set aside the first copy.

BUSTER opens the cash register, drops his coffee money

inside, closes the register.

BUSTER

Has she been buying any odd things

lately?

PETE

Miz Wilkes? Same old stuff.

(beat)

-- Lest you call paper odd.

BUSTER

Newspapers?

PETE

(mimes typing)

No, the typing kind.

CUT TO

BUSTER: CLOSE UP.

BUSTER

Oh. That kind. Nothing odd about

that.

He cannot hide his excitement now as we --

CUT TO

ANNIE, entering Paul's room. He lies back in the wheelchair,

eyes closed. Liberace music playing in the background. From

the start, PAUL'S TONE is different -- strong, he's in

control.

ANNIE

Paul, don't you think it's time for

you to start writing again? It's been

over a week.

PAUL

I don't know, it's weird, but a couple

of broken bones hasn't done a lot for

my creative juices. Get the fuck out

of here.

ANNIE

Don't talk to me like that.

PAUL

(staring at her now)

Why, what are you going to do?

(spreading his arms wide)

Kill me? Take your best shot.

ANNIE

(taken aback)

Why are you so mean, Mister you'd-

be-dead-in-the-snow-if-it-wasn't-

for-me?

PAUL

Oh, no reason, you keep me prisoner,

you make me burn my book, you drive

a sledgehammer into my ankles...

ANNIE

I'll drive a sledgehammer into your

man-gland if you're not nicer --

PAUL

(He spreads his legs)

Be my guest.

ANNIE

(after a beat)

That's disgusting.

As she exits.

CUT TO

A ROAD. Empty. Hold for a moment -- now a car appears around

a curve.

CUT TO

THE CAR. BUSTER is driving fast.

CUT TO

PAUL in his room. He sits as before, by the window. He

doesn't move. Now he closes his eyes, stretches, sighs as we

CUT TO

THE KITCHEN.

ANNIE, busily making cocoa.

CUT TO

BUSTER IN HIS CAR. He stops at a mailbox. The name on the

box is WILKES. Buster turns his car slowly into the driveway

by the mailbox.

CUT TO

PAUL. He yawns, opens his eyes briefly. Closes them. In the

distance now, growing more and more visible is Buster's car

--

-- and now PAUL'S EYES go open wide, and he's staring out

the window at the car as it keeps on coming, closer, closer

and

CUT TO

BUSTER, looking around. He's driving very slowly, carefully.

CUT TO

PAUL. Fixating on the window and now it's all going to be

all right, everything's going to be all right --

-- and then ANNIE is on him, hypodermic needle in hand,

jabbing it into his arm. He desperately tries to fight her

off, but the drug starts to take hold. He tries to grab her

by the neck, but she fights him off as she wheels him out of

the room, down the hall and towards the cellar door.

ANNIE

I don't think I'll ever understand

you. I cook your meals, I tend to

you practically twenty-four hours a

day, and you continue to fight me.

When are we going to develop a sense

of trust?

ANNIE opens the cellar door. PAUL is all but limp by now. As

she picks him up and starts to carry him down the steps --

CUT TO

BUSTER pulling up in front of the house. As he gets out of

his car-

CUT TO

ANNIE placing Paul on the cellar floor and heading up the

stairs. PAUL is out.

CUT TO

BUSTER heading up the steps to the front door.

CUT TO

ANNIE stashing the wheelchair in the hall closet. She

crosses to the front door, opens it, revealing BUSTER.

ANNIE

(gasping)

Oh, my!

BUSTER

Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.

You didn't give me a chance to

knock.

ANNIE

all charm)

I guess you can tell from my

reaction, I'm not all that used to

visitors out here. What can I do

for you?

BUSTER

I was just wondering if you happen

to know anything about Paul Sheldon.

ANNIE

(stammering)

What do you want to know?

BUSTER

Anything you can tell me might help.

CUT TO

ANNIE. The words pour out --

ANNIE

Well, he was born in Worcester,

Massachusetts, forty-two years ago,

the only child of Franklin and

Helene Sheldon, mediocre student,

majored in history...

CUT TO

BUSTER, watching her, surprised.

BUSTER

(cutting in)

Excuse me, that's not exactly the

kind of information I was after. You

see, he's been missing for quite some

time now, and...

ANNIE

I know. It's so upsetting. I'm his

number-one fan...I've got all his

books, every sentence he ever put

down. I'm so proud of my Paul Sheldon

collection...

(stops suddenly,

almost embarrassed)

...here I am, prattling on and my

manners have just flown away. I

haven't invited you in. Please.

BUSTER

Thank you.

ANNIE lets BUSTER in, closes the door. They linger in front

of Paul's door. Buster idly checks out the hallway.

ANNIE

'Course you must know about that

horrible accident.

BUSTER nods and wanders into the living room. ANNIE follows.

He crosses into the study and checks out a bookcase that

contains the complete works of Paul Sheldon. One shelf below

contains Annie's infamous scrapbook.

ANNIE

Almost killed me, too. I prayed when

I heard the news. I got down on my

knees and begged for it not to be

true.

CUT TO

ANNIE. She's so moved. Buster wanders into the kitchen.

ANNIE

You're going to laugh at what I'm

about to say, but go ahead, I don't

care...

(beat)

...when I was praying, God told me

to get ready.

CUT TO

BUSTER, watching her. This isn't at all what he expected.

BUSTER

Get ready for what?

CUT TO

PAUL, trying to fight the drug; just his eyes flutter.

CUT TO

ANNIE and BUSTER heading back down the hallway toward Paul's

room.

ANNIE

To try and be his replacement -- he

gave so much pleasure to so many

people and there's a shortage of

pleasure on this planet these days,

in case you hadn't noticed.

BUSTER enters Paul's room. ANNIE follows.

ANNIE

God told me, since I was his number-

one fan, that I should make up new

stories as if I was Paul Sheldon. So,

I went to town. And I bought a

typewriter. And paper to type on. The

same kind Paul Sheldon used. And I

turned the guest bedroom into a

writing studio. Would you like to see

it?

BUSTER

Sure.

ANNIE

It's right this way.

BUSTER takes a look in the bathroom. ANNIE waits for him.

ANNIE

It's right here. I knew how he wrote,

the kinds of words he used, the

wonderful stories he told --

(moved)

-- I've spent the last four weeks

trying to write like Paul Sheldon.

(sad shake of

the head)

But I can't do it right. I try and I

try and I know all the words --

(eyes closed

in despair)

-- but it's just not the same.

CUT TO

BUSTER. He just stands there, watches her.

BUSTER

Well...

(long pause)

...maybe it takes time to get the

hang of it.

ANNIE

(holding up pages

from the

manuscript)

I could give you a couple of hundred

pages of mine, and you could tell me

what you think.

BUSTER

I'm not much of a critic.

ANNIE

Well, I just thought -- oh, look at

me. You'd think I'd never had a

houseguest before. Would you like

something to drink?

BUSTER

Sure.

ANNIE

How does a nice cup of cocoa sound?

BUSTER

Sounds good.

As she exits into the kitchen.

ANNIE

There's some already made.

BUSTER lingers in Paul's room for a beat, then goes into the

hallway.

BUSTER

Must get lonely, living out here

all by yourself.

ANNIE (o-s)

I always say if you can't enjoy your

own company, you're not fit company

for anyone else.

BUSTER

You got a point there...

As Buster moves up the stairs --

CUT TO

PAUL, still fighting the drug. His arm twitches almost

involuntarily, grazing the barbecue.

CUT TO

BUSTER opening the door to Annie's room. He looks around and

just as he is about to turn to leave --

CUT TO

ANNIE, standing right in front of him.

ANNIE

Here you are.

BUSTER heads down the stairs, ANNIE follows.

BUSTER

Thanks, Miz Wilkes, but I don't

want to take up any more of your

time. I best be going.

ANNIE

But you didn't even taste your

cocoa.

They cross to the front door.

BUSTER

I'm sure it's wonderful, but I

really should be getting back.

BUSTER opens the door.

CUT TO

PAUL stirring.

CUT TO

BUSTER and ANNIE at the door.

BUSTER

If you don't mind, perhaps I

could pay you another visit

sometime.

ANNIE

I'd be delighted. Now that you know

the way...

With that, she closes the door. We stay with BUSTER. He

stands on the front porch for a beat, thinking, then starts

heading down the porch steps. Just as he reaches about

halfway down, we HEAR A LOUD CRASH coming from inside the

house.

CUT TO

PAUL -- he has managed to partially fight his way through

the drug, and in waking has accidentally knocked over the

barbecue. He fights to clear the cobwebs.

CUT TO

BUSTER

Miz Wilkes, are you all right?

There is no answer. He quietly moves into the house.

BUSTER

Miz Wilkes?

Again, no answer.

CUT TO

PAUL, still fighting to gain complete consciousness.

PAUL

(weakly)

Here. I'm down here. Down here.

CUT TO

BUSTER. Hearing Paul's muffled call for help, he tracks the

sound to the cellar door. As PAUL continues to call out,

Buster looks around, sees no one, and opens the cellar door.

The shaft of light from the open door pours down on Paul,

who is still lying on the floor.

BUSTER

Mr. Sheldon?

But before Paul can answer, there's the sound of a LOUD

EXPLOSION. Seemingly from nowhere a hole is ripped through

Buster's chest, knocking him out of frame, revealing Annie,

smoking shotgun in hand, standing at the top of the cellar

steps.

ANNIE

Don't feel bad, Paul. It had to

happen. I've been waiting for this

sign.

ANNIE walks toward BUSTER'S BODY and very casually takes his

gun out of its holster.

ANNIE

I've known for some time why I was

chosen to save you. You and I were

meant to be together forever. But

now our time in this world must end.

But don't worry, Paul. I've already

prepared for what must be done. I

put two bullets in my gun, one for

you and one for me. Oh, darling, it

will be so beautiful.

With that, ANNIE turns and exits the cellar.

Paul's mind races desperately. He looks at the barbecue

again. Next to it is a messy table with a dozen jars and

cans on it.

CUT TO

THE TABLE. One of the cans is LIGHTER FLUID.

CUT TO

PAUL. He stares at it for a moment. An idea hits him --

-- now, PAUL struggles and crawls over to the table. He

grabs the lighter fluid in his hands, jams it into the rear

of his pants and scrambles back to where ANNIE left him.

CUT TO

ANNIE returning with her .38 Special and a hypodermic

needle. She stops at the top of the stairs.

ANNIE

Now don't be afraid. I love you.

She starts toward him.

PAUL

I know you do. I love you too, Annie.

(this stops her)

And you're right. We are meant to be

together. And I know we must die.

But it must be so that Misery can

live. We have the power to give

Misery eternal life. We must finish

the book.

ANNIE

But the time is now. Soon others

will come.

PAUL

It's almost done. By dawn we'll be

able to give Misery back to the

world.

ANNIE stares at Paul. She could go either way on this. Then,

without a word, she turns and goes back up the stairs.

ANNIE

Here, Paul. I'll fix you something

to eat.

She exits. PAUL hesitates for a moment, then realizes he has

no choice. He starts dragging himself over BUSTER and up the

stairs.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. NIGHT.

PAUL working. Typing like a madman, totally concentrated on

the white paper. His lips move but he's not even aware of

it.

ANNIE enters quietly, holding a few pages.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul. It's beautiful.

PAUL

Three more chapters to go.

She looks at him now, enthralled.

ANNIE

The stranger staying at the Inn, is

he someone from Misery's past?

PAUL

Maybe.

ANNIE

This is so exciting. It's Windthorne,

her first love, right?

PAUL

Maybe. Are you ready for the next

chapter?

He taunts her with it.

ANNIE

(brimming with

enthusiasm)

Oh you!

She takes the pages and goes.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. LATER.

PAUL types a moment then rips out the page and starts over.

CUT TO

ANNIE, putting the coffee down for him, putting the pages

back on the main pile.

ANNIE

(more excited now

than the last time)

It WAS Windthorne. I knew it -- what

does that do to her love for Ian? --

(thinks)

-- of course, if she hadn't thought

Windthorne was murdered she never

would have fallen in love with Ian

in the first place.

(Paul glares at her,

she turns to the door)

Sorry, it's just that this is so

wonderful.

PAUL

I'm glad you like it.

ANNIE

Paul, this will be our legacy.

PAUL

It will.

He hands her a few more pages, she starts reading as she

exits.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM. MUCH LATER.

PAUL rubs his eyes. For a moment, he sags, but he fights it.

He puts a clean page into the typewriter.

ANNIE bursts in.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul. I'm dying. Does she wind

up with Ian or Windthorne? You have

to tell me.

PAUL

You'll know very soon. I'm starting

the last chapter. And when I finish,

I want everything to be perfect. I'll

require three things.

ANNIE

What things?

PAUL

You don't know?

ANNIE

(smiling)

I was fooling, silly.

(ticking them off)

You need a cigarette, because you

used to smoke but you quit except

when you finish a book, and you

just have one, and the match is to

light it. And you need one glass of

champagne.

(thinks)

Dome Pear-igg-non.

PAUL

Dome Pear-igg-non it is.

AS ANNIE exits.

CUT TO

THE WINDOW.

The first light of morning is starting to break through.

CUT TO

PAUL, stretching. He makes sure everything is set.

PAUL

(calling out)

Annie! Annie!

With that, she enters.

ANNIE

Yes, Paul.

PAUL

I'm almost done.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul, this is so romantic. Ian

and Windthorne dueling for the right

to Misery's hand. Does Ian win? Oh,

don't me. It's Windthorne, right?

PAUL

You'll know everything in a minute.

Get the champagne.

ANNIE

(dying from the

suspense)

Ahh!!!

She exits; PAUL adjusts the manuscript on the table and then

types the last line.

CUT TO

ANNIE IN THE KITCHEN. She takes the bottle of Dom Perignon

out of the icebox, places it on a tray with two glasses --

opens a drawer -- takes out the gun -- places it in her

pocket -- then takes out the hypodermic needle and places it

on the tray.

CUT TO

PAUL'S ROOM.

ANNIE enters with the tray. She sets it down on the table.

ANNIE

Did I do good?

PAUL

You did perfect. Except for one thing.

This time we need two glasses.

He takes the last page out of the typewriter.

ANNIE

Oh, Paul.

As soon as she exits, PAUL drops the manuscript to the

fllor, pulls the lighter fluid from his pants, and starts

dousing the manuscript with lighter fluid. He grabs the last

chapter and twists the last few pages together torch style.

He douses it with the fluid and holds the match out of

sight.

He smiles as we

CUT TO

ANNIE entering with the second glass...

PAUL

It's all right here, Annie. Remember

how for all those years no one ever

knew who Misery's real father was, or

if they'd ever be reunited? It's all

right here. Will Misery finally lead

her countrymen to freedom? Does she

finally marry Ian or will it be

Windthorne? It's all right here.

CUT TO

THE MATCH, as he strikes it and

CUT TO

ANNIE screaming --

ANNIE

Paul, you can't.

And as her hands fly out beseechingly --

CUT TO

THE CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE -- it falls to the floor, explodes like

a torpedo, shards of glass all over, curds of foam

everywhere --

PAUL

Why not? I learned it from you...

And on that --

CUT TO

THE LAST CHAPTER as Paul brings the match close to it and it

bursts into flame. And Paul, holding it like the torch it

is. Annie starts moving forward now.

ANNIE

No, no, NOT MISERY -- NOT MY MISERY...!

He drops the last chapter into the soaked manuscript and

CUT TO

THE MANUSCRIPT, as KABOOM!, it bursts into flame and --

CUT TO

ANNIE, transfixed by the sight for a moment,

-- AND THEN SHE CHARGES.

CUT TO

THE FIRE as ANNIE rushes to the book, stoops down, grabs it

with both hands, brings the burning mass up to her body,

both arms across it, trying to smother the flames --

CUT TO

PAUL, grabbing the typewriter, raising it high above his

head, then throwing it down on her with all his power and

CUT TO

THE TYPEWRITER, crashing into the back of her head.

CUT TO

ANNIE, screaming, driven to the floor by the blow, the book

beneath her, and the flames fly up, her sweater is starting

to burn and she's covered with shards of glass from the

shattered bottle of champagne and some of the manuscript is

hissing from the liquid, but she is able to struggle to her

knees --

ANNIE

I'm going to kill you, you lying

cocksucker...

As she struggles to her feet, she pulls out the gun and

shoots at Paul, hitting him in the shoulder. Just as she's

about to shoot again, Paul quickly wheels the chair up to

her, throws himself out of the chair, and tackles her. The

gun flies out of her hand and lands in the hallway, going

off as it lands. They wrestle on the floor.

Flames still around them, PAUL gets on top of her, grabs

some burning pages, stuffs them into her mouth, shouting --

PAUL

Here. Here. You want it? You want it?

You can eat it -- eat it -- eat it

till you fucking CHOKE -- you sick,

twisted fuck.

And as he forces more paper into her mouth --

CUT TO

ANNIE, and she's hideous -- blistered, her hands claw at her

throat. She makes horrible sounds, spitting the charred

chunks of manuscript out of her mouth. Shards of glass are

in her hair. Now a shriek and a tremendous jerk of her body

and

CUT TO

PAUL, falling away --

CUT TO

ANNIE, still making the sounds as she gets to her feet, and

CUT TO

PAUL, trying to crawl away after her.

CUT TO

ANNIE -- heading for the door, she takes a step away from

Paul, then another, then

CUT TO

PAUL, suddenly kicking out with his shattered leg, screaming

in pain as it crashes into her ankle and

CUT TO

ANNIE, trying to keep her balance, not doing well, her arms

windmilling as she fights for balance one last moment,

fights and loses, and now, as she topples over --

CUT TO

THE TYPEWRITER as she falls and her head slams into it,

collides with the sharp metal and a great wound opens in her

head. There is one final cry. Blood pours. It's over. All

over. We are looking at a dead body.

CUT TO

PAUL, exhausted, panting, lying there, trying to gather his

energy. He starts to crawl for the door. Just as he reaches

the doorjamb, an arm grabs his leg, and

CUT TO

PAUL, shrieking, and

CUT TO

ANNIE, pulling herself up his body and

CUT TO

PAUL, trying to buck her off, but he can't and

CUT TO

ANNIE, the stronger, relentless, moving up on him, and

CUT TO

PAUL, his grip broken as he turns and

CUT TO

ANNIE, all-powerful, looming over him and

CUT TO

PAUL, hitting up at her and

CUT TO

ANNIE, swelling, and the blood pours down and if she feels

his blows she doesn't show it and

CUT TO

PAUL, whatever energy he has left he uses now, trying to

twist and strike and as his body moves --

CUT TO

A METAL BASED FLOOR LAMP and

CUT TO

PAUL, grabbing the thing, suddenly bringing it across his

body, clobbering Annie in the face and

CUT TO

ANNIE, startled by the power of the blow and for a moment

she is stopped and

CUT TO

PAUL, as with everything he has left, he crunches her

forehead with the sharp heavy metal base, just creams her as

the air is forced out of her --

CUT TO

ANNIE. Her eyes roll up into her head. For a moment all we

see are the whites --

-- then she collapses on PAUL, a motionless mountain of

slack flesh.

CUT TO

PAUL, scrambling free, pushing her off him, crawling for the

door-

CUT TO

-- outside the door, as PAUL crawls into view, makes it to

the corridorr, reaches back, closes the door, locks it.

Safe, he collapses, exhausted against the wall opposite the

door.

DISSOLVE TO

PAUL. HOURS LATER. It is dawn. He is awakened by a loud

smashing at the front door. After a couple of heart-stopping

pounds,

CUT TO

THE FRONT DOOR smashes open, revealing two cops with guns

drawn.

THE POLICEMEN, hurrying to PAUL. The YOUNGER COP kneels

beside Paul.

YOUNGER COP

It's the writer -- the dead one --

PAUL

(trying to keep

himself together)

-- right! I'm the dead one --

OLDER COP

Where's Sheriff McCain?

PAUL

He's in the cellar. She killed him.

OLDER COP

Annie Wilkes?

PAUL

Yeah. She's in there.

CUT TO

The OLDER COP, taking the key to the room, unlocks the door,

throws it open, and as he steps inside --

CUT TO

INSIDE THE BEDROOM.

The OLDER COP has his gun ready to fire, but even with it

tight in his hand, he's edgy as hell.

He looks around --

-- glass and bloodstains on the floor. The charred remains

of a manuscript.

He kneels quickly, glances under the bed -- nothing.

He looks at the window -- wide open.

CUT TO

PAUL and the YOUNGER COP. Pause. The OLDER COP is in the

doorway now.

OLDER COP

Mr. Sheldon? There's no one in there.

CUT TO

PAUL: CLOSE UP. In shock.

DISSOLVE TO

PALM COURT, PLAZA HOTEL

This legend appears:

ONE YEAR LATER

MARCIA SINDELL is seated at a table. PAUL enters, walking

briskly, and he's never looked this good before. He's gained

his weight back, his color is normal again. He appears to

be, for the first time in the movie, a jaunty, happy figure.

PAUL

Sorry I'm late. Jenny's basketball

game went into overtime. If anybody

ever told me I'd have a daughter

who'd get a triple double, I'd...

SINDELL

Did they win?

PAUL

Yeah. They're in the semis.

SINDELL

Here it is.

(big moment)

Very first copy.

And she hands him a wrapped package. PAUL sits, begins

unwrapping it. It's a book. A new one by Paul Sheldon. The

Higher Education of J. Phillip Stone. Paul turns it over

gently in his hands.

CUT TO

SINDELL.

SINDELL

The word I'm getting is the Times

review is gonna be a love letter.

PAUL

That'd be a first.

SINDELL

And my contacts at Time and Newsweek

tell me they're both raves. And don't

laugh -- for the first time, I think

you've got a shot at some prizes.

PAUL

(flatly)

Great.

SINDELL

I thought you'd be thrilled. You're

being taken seriously.

PAUL

I'm delighted the critics are liking

it, and I hope the people like it, too.

But it's not why I wrote the book.

CUT TO

PAUL: CLOSE UP. There is a genuine sense of peace about him.

He has been through the fire and survived.

PAUL

I like it. Remember how you once said

I live my whole life as if I'm in

danger of being found out? Well, I

believe I've managed to get that guy

down on paper.

(He touches the

book. Beat.)

Don't think I'm completely nuts, but

in some way, Annie Wilkes, that whole

experience, helped me.

SINDELL

Paul, since you brought her up, I have

to ask you this, or I'd be drummed out

of the agents' union -- what about a

non-fiction book? The truth about what

went on in that house.

PAUL

Gee, Marcia, if I didn't know you

better, I'd think you were suggesting

I dredge up the worst horror of my

life just so we could make a few bucks.

SINDELL

Now you've hurt me, Paul.

As Paul glances around...

CUT TO

PAUL, looking past MARCIA.

CUT TO

DESSERT TROLLEY, some distance away, being pushed by a

waitress. It is ANNIE.

CUT TO

PAUL AND SINDELL.

SINDELL

I thought you were over it.

PAUL

I am. Well, maybe not completely --

He glances toward the trolley.

CUT TO

THE DESSERT TROLLEY, moving inexorably closer to PAUL. ANNIE

reaches down and pulls out a very sharp knife.

CUT TO

PAUL AND SINDELL.

PAUL

I don't know if you can ever be

totally over something like that --

I just don't think about it as much

anymore, and when I do, it's not so

terrifying.

CUT TO

ANNIE, with the knife raised.

CUT TO

PAUL, staring up at ANNIE.

PAUL

I mean, once they found her body,

my nightmares stopped.

CUT TO

PAUL AND ANNIE -- only it isn't Annie, just a WAITRESS. She

stands by the trolley, the knife in her hand, ready to slice

whatever anyone wants.

WAITRESS

Would you care for anything?

PAUL

(smiles)

Cut me something sinful...

CUT TO

PAUL. The smile holds. In the background now, soft music:

someone might be playing "Liberace."

HOLD ON PAUL.

FINAL FADE OUT.

THE END