Original screenplay by
Frank Herbert / David Lynch
Fade in: Timmie enters the dark room. He looks around at the lace and tapestries on the wall. His attention falls on the woman sitting in an ornate chair in the middle of the room. She is dressed head to toe in skintight leather. She turns to look at him with a harsh look on her face.
|Goth Mistress:||(to Timmie) Now you come here.|
Timmie finds he cannot help but obey her, yet he searches for the willpower to resist.
|Goth Mistress:||Come here.|
Timmie sits in the chair next to the Goth Mistress. She holds a yellow and white plastic object in front of him.
|Goth Mistress:||See this... Run this across your right hand.|
|Timmie:||(staring at the device) What is it?|
At that, she raises a hand to his neck. Timmie sees a glint of metal. He tries to back away.
|Goth Mistress:||STOP! Put the device on your hand!|
Timmie holds the device against the skin on his right hand. A look of fear passes over his face.
|Goth Mistress:||I hold at your neck the gom jabbar. Don't pull away or you'll feel that poison. A goth must know about many things -- this poison kills only casuals.|
|Timmie:||Are you suggesting I am a casual?|
|Goth Mistress:||Let us say I suggest you may be a goth. Your awareness may be powerful enough to control your instincts. Your instincts will be to remove the epilator from your hand. (She turns on the device which starts humming) If you do so you will die. You will feel an itching -- there... see? Now the itching becomes burning... pain, upon pain, upon pain.|
|Timmie:||(whispering) It hurts.|
|Goth Mistress:||SILENCE... SILENCE.|
Timmie runs the epilator across his hand. Strip by strip of bare skin becomes clear as the hair flys out of the device.
|Timmie:||(whispering to himself) I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear... I will permit it to pass over me and through me.|
The Goth Mistress moves her mouth next to Timmie's ear and smiles. Close up on her glossy red lips as she whispers in his ear.
|Goth Mistress:||You feel the hairs coming out? One at a time?|
Timmie closes his eyes and in his inner mind he sees his hand with large welts and bleeding from numerous sores.
|Goth Mistress:||Skin inflaming...|
Timmie pictures his skin be flayed in strips. Blood pouring out. His eyes are tightly shut and his face shows his pain, yet he still moves the epilator across his hand.
|Timmie:||(bursts out) THE PAIN!|
|Goth Mistress:||NO!! ENOUGH!! (turns off the epilator) No woman goth ever withstood that much. I must have wanted you to fail. Hold your hand up and look at it, young goth.... Do it!|
Timmie hold his hand up and opens his eyes. There is no sign of any inflamation or bleeding. He flexes his fingers and stares at his fine hairless hand. He turns to look at the Goth Mistress.
|Goth Mistress:||(explaining) Pain by epilation... A goth can resist any pain in order to look good.|
Fade to black.