Episode One - YELLOW AMENDS - 10/04/12
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EXT. LEMAN STREET - EVENING 1/1 The last rays of a spring sun bounce off the decaying sandstone spire of Christchurch, Spitalfields. And bounce back again to the heavens. Where they belong. Because they don’t belong where we’re going... Down here. Leman Street. The axis of our world. The unholy chaos of it. Naptha lights being lit for the night, flares bouncing off the glass windows of horse-drawn omnibuses. Kids - untamed, running wild. Drunks hanging off tarts. A wild mass of humanity. And a dateline: APRIL 1889. EAST LONDON. EXT. COMMERCIAL STREET / MILLERS COURT - EVENING 1/2 TIGHT on the purple, veined face of this TOUR GUIDE. A man in his early 50s, attempting gentility -- GUIDE And he laughs unpleasantly. Turns away into a small alleyway as a group of perhaps 15 WELL-TO-DO MEN AND WOMEN follow on. All obey the instruction to avoid the various forms of shit and matter on the cobbles beneath them. GUIDE (CONT’D) Miller’s Court. Five months’ past - the scene of the worst of them. The worst and - please God - the last. Mary Jane Kelly. What the man Jack did to her... well, we shall not say. The MEN and WOMEN gawk - a visceral chill running through them. Behind them another group building up. LOCALS, themselves gawking at the fine clothes and hats of the tour group. Among them - a number of SMALL BOYS. GUIDE (CONT’D) But let us not dwell. Ladies. Gentlemen. Be sure to look down as keenly as you would up. Mr. Gladstone himself - only last week - found himself fitted for new boots. The GUIDE moving on again, turning through a narrow archway. Above and around them various lodging houses. From their windows, several TARTS look out. Much laughter as a gap- toothed HAG lifts her skirts for a young CHURCHMAN. GUIDE (CONT’D)
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Rents here are paid by the day. I believe that is all you need know.
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