_ _ _ _ _ | | __| | ___ _ __( ) |_ __ _(_)_ _____ __ _ | | / _` |/ _ \| '_ \/| __| / _` | \ \ / / _ \ / _` | | | | (_| | (_) | | | || |_ | (_| | |\ V / __/ | (_| | |_| \__,_|\___/|_| |_| \__| \__, |_| \_/ \___| \__,_| |___/ _ _ _ __| | __ _ _ __ ___ _ __ __ _| |__ ___ _ _| |_ / _` |/ _` | '_ ` _ \| '_ \ / _` | '_ \ / _ \| | | | __| | (_| | (_| | | | | | | | | | | (_| | |_) | (_) | |_| | |_ \__,_|\__,_|_| |_| |_|_| |_| \__,_|_.__/ \___/ \__,_|\__| _ _ __ _| |__ __ _| |_ \ \ /\ / / '_ \ / _` | __| \ V V /| | | | (_| | |_ \_/\_/ |_| |_|\__,_|\__| _ _ _ _ _ _ ___ _ _ | |_| |__ (_)_ __ | | __ | | | |/ _ \| | | | | __| '_ \| | '_ \| |/ / | |_| | (_) | |_| | | |_| | | | | | | | < \__, |\___/ \__,_| \__|_| |_|_|_| |_|_|\_\ |___/ ___________________________________________________________________ | ____ | | _- -_ | | /\ /\ /\ - ______ - | |\ / \ /\ / \ / - - - - /\ /\ /\ | |\ /\ / \ /\ / \ / \/ - / \ - **\ /**\ /**\| | \ / \ / \/ \/ \/ - ----- -__*\ /****\/****| | \/ \ / \ _- -_************| | \ \/ \ _--- -_**********| | \ / \ __-- -_********| |___\ __---- | | | | | =_******| || _ ___-- __\ \ \ | | / / / / \ ****| | ----/ \____- ____- **\ \ | || || | | | |****| | | | | |*******| | |-| | |****| | || o o| __ | || | || | |********| | | || | | |* | || /****| | | _ | | | | | |*************| || || | | | |*||| |*****| | |____| ***************************| | | || | || | *| | *****| |_--_ _---_************************| | | | | | | |*| ||******| | --- |***********************| | || | | | || | **| | ******| |__ __|******** _____ *******|| || | | | | | |**| ******| | | | |**** _-- ----_____ || | | | | | || **| |******| | | | |*** / | ||| | || | || | || **| | ******| | | | |** / | | | __ ||| | || | | ||| |*/ \******| | \ / / ***| || |||| | ||| | ||| ||| | | || \//// ******| |\ \______/ /*****| | |***** ||||| | | | | | | | |***********| ||\/ \/| ____| | |***** |||| | ||| | |||| *************| |___________________________________________________________________| by Brad Abrahams Those are the words Albert Ostman would say when anyone would contend the veracity of his story. A Canadian-Swedish construction worker and lumberjack, Albert had one of Canada’s first Bigfoot encounters, and perhaps the world’s first recorded Bigfoot abduction (with romantic undertones). I’m adapting Albert’s story into a short film, and below is a short excerpt from the screenplay. Albert is on vacation, hiking and camping in the remote wilderness of coastal British Columbia... EXT. FOREST - NIGHT Faintly illuminated by campfire, ALBERT struggles to stay awake in his oversized sleeping bag. He keeps one hand on his rifle, determined to confront whatever animal ransacked his campsite the night before. But the day was long, and the flickering of the fire is hypnotic. His eyelids blink and stay closed. He immediately starts snoring, then lets out a loud nocturnal fart. Sound of HEAVY FOOTSTEPS and BREATHING. FADE TO BLACK: INT. SLEEPING BAG - NIGHT CUT TO: Albert wakes with a jolt. Sounds are muffled. The sensation of being jostled around. It’s nearly too dark to see. He fumbles for his lighter, finds it, and flicks it on. We are in Albert’s POV: the flame reveals we are tightly contorted in the bottom of his sleeping bag, along with his backpack and rifle. The whole bag is lurching from side to side, in a slow, constant, swinging motion. The sound of deep, long breaths and wide footsteps. Perhaps we’re slung over the back of a horse? Albert’s breathing quickens and his eyes dart around, edging towards panic. By force of will, he slows his breathing and closes his eyes. EXT. FOREST - NIGHT (HOURS LATER) A vista of the wilderness. Dense douglas firs blanket fog-ringed coastal mountain tops stretching out in the distance. The blue glow of dawn emerges with the chirping of sparrows. INT. SLEEPING BAG - DAWN Back to Albert’s POV: The swinging, footsteps and breathing stop. We/Albert/the bag are suddenly dropped and slam against the ground. Albert tries to stifle a YELP of pain. SILENCE and stillness for a beat. He crawls towards the exit of the bag. Blue morning light floods our POV. EXT. VALLEY - DAY Albert attempts to stand up out of the bag, but his legs have lost circulation from the night of contortion. He sits back and rubs them, blinking to adjust his eyes to the day light. Directly in front of him is a narrow valley, of which he is on the floor. There are steep, cliff-like walls all around it. He hears a low GRUNT and some CHITTERING from behind him. He swings 180 degrees around. Five meters away, blocking the exit of the valley, stand four, large, fur-covered “people” staring back at him. These must be the Sasquatch the First Nations man warned him about. He takes it all in. Their heads are almost human, but with wider jaws and narrower foreheads that slant up & back, and faces covered in soft, dark fur. The OLD MAN is the largest, about 8 feet tall with a big hump on his back. The OLD WOMAN is half a foot shorter, with sagging fur-covered breasts, wide hips, and a dour disposition. The SON is 7 feet and powerfully built, flashing Albert what looks like a grin. The DAUGHTER is slightly smaller, more femininely proportioned, with a wisp of hair on her forehead that resemble bangs. Albert and her lock eyes before she shyly turns away. After a beat of silence, Albert musters the courage to speak. ALBERT W-W-What you fellas want with me? The Sasquatch family looks at each other and CHITTER. The Old Man turns towards Albert, looking right into his eyes. OLD MAN Ook Ook. TO BE CONTINUED