EXT. BEHIND A FARM HOUSE. MIDNIGHT.
An old man, BUD HANSON, about sixty years of age, born and raised
in America all his life. BUD walks urgently towards the camera.
As he enters into a CLOSE UP SHOT, he bends down to pick up a GUN.
Nearly lost ya there, kid.
Ha-ha.. yeah almost!
Dont'you worry, ill soon put an end to all this mumbo-jumbo
BUD looks into his home, the kitchen light is on and through the
curtains he can see his wife MARY-ANNE, of whom is married over
forty years. He blows her a kiss goodbye and looks out to the cool,
softly swaying cornfields. The MOON is bright tonight. BUD raises the
GUN near to his chest.
I told you so..
BUD fires one shot straight into the side of his head. The gunshot
ricochets violently across the field, the loud band reverberated
between the adjoining farm houses and echoed into the distance.
BUD lay on the floor, his body mishapen as he fell to his death.