A song for a king script

---

A Song For A King

FADE IN TO:

INT- SMALL SHACK- DAY

The King, who is in his 50’s, with a slouched posture and a constant one thousand yard stare worn on his face, sits down in the shack on a makeshift bed and begins to play a makeshift tune with his ukulele. As he plays, the door opens up. The Son enters the shack and sits down beside the king. The king stops playing his tune whenever his son enters and waits for him to speak. A short silence occurs. 

SON

Father, why do you never play music with me?

KING

I did not know you liked music. 

SON

Why would I not? I’ve gone years without hearing a single melody. Not even the birds sing for us anymore. Yet you can create music again but keep it for yourself. Why? 

KING

Well… the last time I played a song, it was not well liked. 

SON

Are you going to tell me a story?

Another short silence occurs

KING

If you wish it so. 

SON

I do. 

KING

Well, I suppose this is a tale you must here. You are at the age where you must learn caution. 

CUT TO:

EXT- GARDEN OUTSIDE A HOUSE- DAY

The King wanders around disorientated, his posture is different from when he was in the shack. He stands tall and straight, as if he never had to endure the weight of the world on his shoulders. He walks around as the sound of fire and screaming can be heard around him, but doesn’t react to any of these sounds. 

CUT TO:

INT- SMALL SHACK- DAY

The King continues to speak

KING

I used to live somewhere different, a large castle. There I spent the days drinking wine and playing music for my people, all the while my children would try to grab at my instruments and play songs for themselves. 

SON

Did you let them?

KING

Of course I let them. They were my children.

CUT TO: 

EXT- GARDEN OUTSIDE HOUSE- DAY

The King wanders further, his stance lacking. He can no longer ignore the screams nor the fire and smoke, and it shows. He is now limping as he walks up a set of stairs and through a small glade, twigs stabbing and slashing across his arm. 

CUT TO:

INT- THE SHACK- DAY

KING

But then came the day that one of my sons longed for another song. He wished for the song of power, the song of leadership. He wanted to hear crowds cheer his name and sing for him. He wanted my crown… 

CUT TO:

EXT- STONE FLOOR OUTSIDE HOUSE- DAY

The King, now slouched and limping, tries to walk down another set of stairs. In doing so he almost collapses. The sounds of hell only erupt further behind him as he looks behind him and the orange flames reflect off of his face. 

CUT TO:

INT- THE SHACK- DAY

SON

Did you give it to him?

KING

Of course not… he was not ready. But neither was I. A king does not just sit there and play for his subjects. A king must bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. He must endure his peoples suffering so that they may never suffer again. I knew this, but I did not know that… I had never bore that weight. Every king, one way or another, will learn to bear pain. I learnt it too late… my son was angry for so long that he could not have his crown. And so eventually, when the time came for him to prove himself, he chose rather to seize the crown early. He started by taking my castle, he did so with ease as no one was there to expect a fight. And so there was no place for the music to be played. Then he took my instruments, he did so with ease as they were kept in the open for all to play. And so there was no way to create new music. finally he took my people, he did so with ease as I never thought that they would need protecting. And so there was no one to listen to the music. By the end of it all I was left to hear a new song. The song of my kingdoms fall. My sons song. And now that is the only song I play. There is no more music to be heard. 

The son sits and contemplates what the King's tale. Then he speaks.

SON

But father… aren’t I your son?

The King looks down at the floor, expressionless. 

CUT TO:

EXT- STONE FLOOR OUTSIDE HOUSE- DAY

The King sits there all alone, until he faintly hears a new sound block out the misery behind him. The wailing of a baby. He then walks towards the sound of the crying and looks down towards where the baby must lay.

CUT TO:

INT- SHACK- DAY

KING 

Yes… you are. 

SON

What is the song called?

KING

He called it justice…

SON

… It doesn’t sound like justice to me.

CUT TO: 

EXT- OUTSIDE THE SHACK- DAY

The shack slowly pans away, showing how derelict it really is. The King's voice can be heard softly as a voice over

KING (V.O)

Perhaps justice depends on how one views the world.