GRABBERS
Written by
Kevin Lehane
PRODUCTION DRAFT
November 10, 2010
Production Draft - PINK
Revised, November 16, 2010
Production Draft - BLUE
Revised, November 19, 2010
Production Draft - YELLOW
Revised, November 28, 2010
Production Draft - GREEN
Revised, December 10, 2010
Production Draft - GOLD
Revised, January 28, 2011
FADE IN:
EXT. OCEAN - NIGHT
Across the inky swell, a river of moonlight cuts a path to a
lonely fishing tug drifting with the tide. THE MERRY WIDOW.
INT. MERRY WIDOW GALLEY - NIGHT
A light bulb waltzes with the sway of the boat. Three shabby
Irish fishermen unwind after dinner, playing cards.
The eldest and scruffiest (the SKIPPER) reveals his hand to a
young deckhand (GREG). Read 'em and weep.
GREG
You can't be serious?
Laughing, the Skipper unspools himself from the cramped table
as he and ROY, the bloated first-mate, clamber above deck.
GREG
Every bloody night.
EXT. MAIN DECK - NIGHT
Roy and the Skipper check the hauled in nets, until ...
A SILENT ARC OF LIGHT SLICES ACROSS THE SKY. It careens
downwards in a furious trajectory and --
BOOM!! A mile off their port it collides with the sea.
ROY
Did you see that?
SKIPPER
... Yeah.
ROY
A flare?
The Skipper watches the water. Unsure.
Greg leaps on deck brandishing a clutch of cards.
GREG
Ye cheated! There's five aces! I
counted 'em!
The Skipper brushes past Greg, distracted.
SKIPPER
Secure the lines.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 2.
Greg looks to Roy.
GREG
Not so funny now, huh?
Roy plucks one of the five aces from Greg's hand and flips it
over. Its backing is red.
ROY
It's from a different deck, ya
muppet.
He sticks it to Greg's damp forehead and carries on as
ordered. Greg turns the remaining aces over. They're blue.
GREG
... Shite.
EXT. OCEAN - NIGHT
Foam rises as bubbles crest violently. Closing in, the Merry
Widow casts its searchlight across the churning surf.
INT. PILOTHOUSE / EXT. OCEAN
The Skipper steers carefully, holding a radio mic.
SKIPPER
(INTO MIC)
Haven Point. Haven Point. Haven
Point. This is Fishing tug Merry
Widow. Call sign echo whiskey
niner ait fife. Position five
nautical miles west of Erin Island.
Responding to unknown distress
flare. Over.
The Skipper pulls back on the throttle, sloshing to a stop.
He taps the sonar screen. A hazy shadow engulfs the readout.
SKIPPER
Definitely something ...
ROY (O.S.)
Over there!
Roy shines his flashlight over the rail.
ROY
There's something in the water!
Suddenly Roy wheels overboard, yanked into the murky sea.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 3.
The Skipper drops the mic and rushes to the rail with Greg.
SKIPPER
Roy!
Roy's glowing flashlight bobs in the water.
SKIPPER
Can you see him?!
A hundred yards off on the opposite starboard side, far
behind them, Roy surfaces SCREAMING!
Greg and the Skipper rush to the starboard rail.
Roy's gurgled, tortured cries mist in the air.
The Skipper snaps into action. Seconds count.
SKIPPER
Don't lose him!
Greg points, fixing Roy's position.
The Skipper grabs a lifebuoy, lights it up and throws.
SKIPPER
Roy! Don't panic, mate. Swim for
the buoy!
GREG
C'mon, Roy, kick!
Roy's head strains the surface, his arms flailing in agonised
spasms ...
... And then silence as he goes under. The sound of water
sloshes and laps against the hull.
The Skipper stares hopelessly at the water. Greg's pointed
hand trembles. He lowers it.
The Skipper shoves a lifejacket into Greg's chest.
SKIPPER
Put it on.
GREG
What happened?
SKIPPER
Just do it, boy.
Greg does, fumbling.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 4.
The Skipper loads a flare gun and aims it overhead -- WHOOSH!
The glowing red beacon graffities the starry sky.
COASTGUARD (O.S.)
(VIA RADIO)
Merry Widow. Merry Widow. This is
Coastguard Haven Point. Please
respond. Over.
SKIPPER
Radio a mayday!
(off Greg's hesitation)
Move!
Greg scrambles back to the helm --
INT. PILOTHOUSE / MAIN DECK - INTERCUT
-- and snatches the radio mic.
GREG
(INTO MIC)
Mayday-Mayday-Mayday.
(SEARCHES CHART)
Merry Widow, uh, echo whiskey niner
ait fife. Man overboard. Man
overboard. Emergency assistance
required. Position --
The Skipper scans the glassy sea with a flashlight.
SKIPPER
ROY?! ROY?!
Subtly at first, the buoy's bight of rope twinges. The
Skipper sees it. His eyes narrow --
-- it jerks like a fishing line. The Skipper grabs it and
reels it in.
SKIPPER
C'mon, Roy, mate. Fight.
UNDERWATER
The buoy's rope moves towards the boat.
INT. PILOTHOUSE - NIGHT
Suddenly the trawler keels steeply. Greg grips the fittings
for support as debris rains on him.
GREG
Jesus Christ!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 5.
COASTGUARD (O.S.)
Received Mayday, Merry Widow.
Emergency rescue team dispatched.
How many aboard? Over.
Water laps over Greg's feet as the boat rights itself. Greg
surveys the flooded deck. The Skipper's gone.
GREG
(INTO MIC)
Please hurry.
COASTGUARD (O.S.)
Hold your position, Merry Widow,
rescue chopper on its way. Over.
Greg drops the mic and edges outside.
EXT. MAIN DECK - NIGHT
The deck swims with water. Greg holds his breath, listening.
GREG
Skipper?
The abandoned C.B. mic swings to and fro. Almost playfully.
COASTGUARD (O.S.)
Merry Widow, how many aboard?
Over.
Greg rounds the pilothouse, breathing heavily.
Suddenly what looks like a weird, headless black snake feels
its way towards his boots. Greg turns and bolts.
He scrambles to the stern amongst the nets and snatches a
gutting-knife with both hands.
Trapped against the rail, panting, he prays for help but --
-- HE'S DRAGGED OVERBOARD. His legs round in the air as he
cascades into the sea.
EXT. OCEAN - NIGHT
Just beyond the Merry Widow, he surfaces gasping.
GREG
Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus. Oh Jes--
He's gone.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 6.
EXT. OCEAN - NIGHT
In the moonlight the isolated Merry Widow reposes mournfully.
G R A B B E R S
INT. LIVING ROOM - MORNING
CIARÁN O'SHEA lies face down on a sofa. His bed for the
night. He gropes a dry bottle of whiskey as a mobile phone
RINGS. He stirs awake. It's no surprise he looks like
shite, but to be fair he's not bad looking after a wash.
O'SHEA
Uh ... Yeah?
Someone we'll meet later as SGT KENIFICK replies.
KENIFICK'S VOICE
(via speaker phone)
O'Shea, I take it you've left
already because if you haven't,
you're late. That ferry gets in at
nine.
O'Shea rises, eyes closed. Mouth dry.
KENIFICK'S VOICE
Where are you?
O'SHEA
... On the way.
KENIFICK'S VOICE
So you're in the car?
O'SHEA
... Yeah ...
KENIFICK'S VOICE
So you're driving while on the
phone?!
O'SHEA
... No.
KENIFICK'S VOICE
In the name of God, I don't b--
O'Shea hangs up and drops his whiskey bottle in a bin where
it CLATTERS with yesterday's bottle, and the day before's.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 7.
EXT. O'SHEA'S HOUSE - MORNING
An isolated house at the foothills of a mountain. A white
Garda patrol jeep leaves the scene and --
EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - MORNING
-- rambles along the sunny coast. At the wheel, O'Shea is a
very hungover, droopy eyed Garda.
EXT. ERIN ISLAND - MORNING
Lush green hills and whitewashed bungalows, pastel beaches
and multi-coloured fishing boats. Enchanting.
EXT. MARINA FERRY DOCK - DAY
Colourful crowds of FAMILIES (TEENS, KIDS, PARENTS) file onto
the MAINLAND FERRY as it lies moored in the harbour.
GARDA LISA NOLAN hustles through the masses dragging a
trolley bag and passing a sign that reads:
OILEÁN ÉIRINN, CÉAD MÍLE FÁILTE
Welcome to Erin Island
Lisa opens a map and wrestles with it in the wind. Soon
defeated, it blows out of her hands.
LISA
Shit!
She chases it as if running down a mugger but it lifts
skyward and twirls haughtily in the air.
Suddenly inching towards her, driving with all the panache of
an abandoned shopping trolley, comes O'Shea. Bleary-eyed and
hunched over, he drops his window before her.
O'SHEA
Well?
LISA
Howya. O'Shea, is it? Ciarán? We
spoke on the phone. I'm Garda
Nolan, Lisa.
O'SHEA
You're not serious?
She considers his bedraggled appearance. He looks like he
wants to vomit on her.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 8.
LISA
Yeah, well. Just being polite.
O'SHEA
Are ya gettin' in or what?
LISA
I have a bag.
He pops the boot and gazes back at the road, waiting.
EXT. ROAD - DAY
Tyres SPLASH and CRASH in the war against potholes.
EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - DAY
The jeep follows the mountain road ...
INT. PATROL JEEP - DAY
Wincing, O'Shea hugs the wheel feeling every agonising bump.
A locket of Lisa's slick ponytail comes undone. She quickly
yanks it back giving herself a face lift in the process.
O'Shea belches under his breath and Lisa flinches. She pulls
a packet of mints from her bag.
LISA
Would you like a mint?
O'Shea stares at them, then at her. Barely reading the road.
O'SHEA
Nah thanks, they give me heartburn.
He belches again as they jostle over another pothole. Lisa
drops her window and her hair erupts in the sea breeze.
EXT. GARDA STATION - DAY
O'Shea and Lisa arrive at the station. Home from home.
EXT. BEACH - DAY
Across the grassy dunes, DR JIM GLEESON walks his dog. For a
health practitioner, he just preaches. He flings a stick for
his eager collie and it gallops over a dune.
Dr Gleeson follows, rising over the hill and stops cold as he
sees across the strand: A POD OF PILOT WHALES LAY BEACHED.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 9.
INT. GARDA STATION - DAY
SGT KENIFICK wipes a thumb along his desk. On the verge of
retirement he looks more like tourist in his sunshine holiday
garb. He rises to greet O'Shea and Lisa.
KENIFICK
Garda Nolan, lovely to have you.
O'Shea, you look like shite. Would
you go way and shave.
O'SHEA
(re. Kenifick's clothes)
A bit eager aren't ya?
KENIFICK
(TO LISA)
Smooth crossing?
LISA
Smoother than most.
O'SHEA
Coffee?
LISA
That'd be great, thanks.
Lisa hands O'Shea a mug from her bag. He regards it.
KENIFICK
So what do you think of the place?
LISA
It's gorgeous, isn't it?
KENIFICK
'Tis indeed.
O'SHEA
And quiet as shite.
Kenifick and Lisa glance at O'Shea.
O'SHEA
(TO LISA)
Milk?
LISA
Uhm, what kind?
O'SHEA
Cows.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 10.
O'Shea and Lisa consider each other. Lines firmly drawn.
LISA
I'll take it black, thanks.
Kenifick's mobile RINGS and he silences it.
KENIFICK
So you can have my desk while I'm
gone. O'Shea will tell you, 'tis
mostly administrative, processing
permits and that sort. You might
catch the odd bit of commotion
every now and then but half the
island's leaving for the show in
Dungary so it'll be dead all
weekend.
LISA
I'm sure we can find something to
do.
O'Shea rolls his eyes and passes Lisa her coffee.
LISA
Ta.
She takes it and sits at her desk, feeling her surroundings.
O'SHEA
(whispered to Kenifick)
Is she really necessary?
KENIFICK
You tell me.
Lisa carefully arranges her desk how she likes it. Neat.
O'SHEA
You're only gone two weeks. I
can handle two weeks.
KENIFICK
You could. But you wouldn't.
Kenifick's mobile PINGS. He checks the text message.
KENIFICK
Don't be late, I said. What did I
say?
His phone RINGS again.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 11.
KENIFICK
I'm coming, I'm coming. Right, I'm
off.
LISA
Not a bother.
KENIFICK
Rightio. Reports and files in the
top drawer, anything you need,
O'Shea will be here to show you
round. O'Shea?
O'SHEA
You're gonna miss your boat.
KENIFICK
Slán.
Kenifick leaves. An uncomfortable silence fills the air like
two strangers in an elevator. Lisa sips her coffee. Hates
it. O'Shea slumps at his desk, throws his feet up and sighs.
Kenifick barges back in and O'Shea falls over himself to
straighten up, burning himself with his coffee.
KENIFICK
Won't go far with no tickets. See
you in a fortnight. Be good.
He snatches them and leaves. O'Shea recovers and notices
Lisa stifling a smile. The office phone RINGS and O'Shea
sluggishly reaches for it. But Lisa beats him to it.
LISA
Garda Nolan.
EXT. FISHING PORT (BY MAHER'S PUB) - DAY
At the dock PADDY BARRETT sorts his lobster traps. All he's
short is a parrot and a wooden leg.
His traps appear empty, some mangled, but before he can
protest one of the oblong traps leaps. He watches it and
like a magic trick it leaps again.
He squats down and gazes between the seaweed strewn cage.
Nothing to be seen thanks to the seaweed. He prods it and
lo, it shifts violently. Hopping mad.
Paddy rises, wipes his frowning forehead with his cap and
gestures to a fisherman packing ice crates on the dock.
TADHG MURPHY saunters over. An alpha male in a beta body.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 12.
PADDY
Take a look at this.
Paddy gently kicks the lobster trap, spurring it. On cue, it
haphazardly jumps across the wet dock. Tadhg snickers.
TADHG
He's a biggun.
PADDY
He's not a lobster.
TADHG
Then what is it?
Paddy shrugs. Tadhg kneels down and peers inside.
SPLAT! A GEYSER OF GOO SPRAYS IN HIS FACE! Tadhg staggers
to his feet, spitting furiously.
TADHG
Oh ya bastard, Paddy! Ya knew it
was gonna do that.
PADDY
I didn't. On me life.
Tadhg wipes away the slime with his sweater.
TADHG
Eurgh, the smell.
PADDY
So what is it?
TADHG
I dunno, it's a feckin octopus or
something, it's covered in seaweed.
But 'tis no feckin' lobster!
Tadhg stomps off.
PADDY
An octopus?
Paddy considers the lobster trap, eyes flashing.
INT. PATROL JEEP - DAY
Lisa drives safely, under the limit. A turning approaches.
LISA
Do I go...?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 13.
O'Shea waits for the last second.
O'SHEA
... Left.
Lisa turns sharply, amusing O'Shea.
O'SHEA
So you're after the sarge's desk?
LISA
What makes you say that?
O'SHEA
Just wondering.
LISA
Well, I'm not. I'd some holidays
saved that needed to be taken and
this posting came up and I thought
sure what harm, why not? Can't hurt
with the review board, you know?
O'Shea nods, sussing her out.
O'SHEA
Where are you stationed?
LISA
Dublin Central.
O'SHEA
And how's that working out for ya?
LISA
Great. We got drugs, muggings,
murders and rapes. Always on the
go.
O'SHEA
Well you can relax, there's none of
that here.
LISA
You never know. It's the quiet
places where all the mad shit
happens. Just open a paper.
O'Shea smirks out his window. Lisa notices.
LISA
What?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 14.
O'SHEA
I bet you haven't missed a day of
work in your life.
LISA
And should I be ashamed of that?
O'SHEA
It's just a job.
Arriving at the beach, Lisa parks sharply sending O'Shea
colliding with the dashboard. He recovers, stunned.
LISA
Seatbelt. It is the law.
EXT. BEACH ROAD - DAY
O'Shea and Lisa get out of the parked jeep.
EXT. BEACH - DAY
O'Shea and Lisa trundle past some ONLOOKERS (folks we'll
party with later) and head towards the whales. They plough
forward until they're upon Dr Gleeson.
DR GLEESON
In all me years, never seen
anything like it.
O'SHEA
Lisa Nolan, doctor Jim Gleeson.
Resident physician.
DR GLEESON
Oh hello, love. How are ya?
LISA
Grand, thanks.
O'SHEA
You wouldn't have any Aspirin on ya,
would ya, Jim?
DR GLEESON
I've a few winegums? Would ya like
a winegum?
O'SHEA
You're all right.
Lisa moves deeper down the beach and O'Shea follows.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 15.
LISA
I'd prefer it if you'd introduce me
as Garda Nolan.
O'SHEA
Ah, no one minds.
LISA
I do.
Lisa marches on, staggering awkwardly in the soft sand.
O'Shea and Lisa arrive by the whales and ADAM SMITH, Ph.D.
nods to O'Shea as they approach. Busy working.
O'SHEA
What happened?
SMITH
(writing in a pad)
One second.
Lisa's eyes light up at Smith's dismissal of O'Shea. A
kindred spirit. Once Smith's ready, he ignores O'Shea and
removes a glove to shake Lisa's hand. So very English.
SMITH
Smith.
LISA
Lisa.
O'Shea stares at her. Typical.
O'SHEA
Smith's a marine psychologist or
something, did I get that right?
SMITH
No. It's marine ecology.
O'Shea shrugs, whatever.
LISA
That was quick.
SMITH
More fortunate really. I'm based
here doing studies for the
department of the marine.
Smith hands O'Shea the tip of a tape measure.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 16.
SMITH
Hold this, please.
O'Shea doesn't have a choice. Smith walks the length of the
whales, stepping around Lisa and touching her as he goes.
SMITH
So how long are you here?
LISA
Two weeks.
SMITH
Oh, wonderful. Wonderful. Are you
staying nearby?
O'Shea interrupts, deliberately:
O'SHEA
So are they dead?!
SMITH
Hmm? No, they're just sleeping.
Smith and Lisa share a smirk. O'Shea notices and lets the
tape measure go, snapping back on Smith's fingers. Ouch.
O'SHEA
Slipped.
O'Shea and Smith trade looks.
LISA
So what happened?
SMITH
Well they're pilot whales. It
happens with them from time to time
but no one really knows why.
Lisa notes deep spider-vein gashes on the whales' bodies as
if they were whipped with a huge cat-o'-nine-tails.
LISA
What are those marks?
SMITH
Not sure. Possible scratches off
the rocks while washing up here.
LISA
They didn't beach themselves?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 17.
SMITH
No, they died at sea.
O'SHEA
All of them? At once?
SMITH
It's a strange one all right.
O'Shea considers the ocean before him.
EXT. PADDY'S HOUSE - DAY
A charming little shithole.
INT. PADDY'S BATHROOM - DAY
Paddy kicks open the bathroom door. He plugs the bathtub and
lets the tap run, filling it.
He shuffles out and returns wearing a welders mask and
dragging the lobster trap. He lifts the trap over the bath
rim and drops it into the bath water where it BUBBLES.
He removes his mask and peers in at it. What the feck?
EXT. DERELICT SITE - DAY
A dilapidated mill, long since operational. A sign reads
"KEEP OUT". The jeep pulls up and O'Shea and Lisa step out.
O'SHEA
Hey, Daly, Cooney about?
On the rim of a demolished "pit" DALY points to a ramp.
Years of labouring have turned Daly into one big freckle.
O'Shea follows Daly's directions up a ramp towards the
demolished frame of a building.
Daly elbows his MATE, ogling Lisa.
DALY
Now that is one arresting woman.
DALY'S MATE WOLF-WHISTLES. Appalled, Lisa whips out her
notepad and pencil.
LISA
You, what's your name?
DALY'S MATE
(POLISH ACCENT)
Przemyslaw Wojciechowski.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 18.
Lisa closes her pad. Forget it.
LISA
Carry on.
In the pit DECLAN COONEY directs Daly. Although it's not
possible, Cooney appears pregnant.
O'SHEA
Busy?
COONEY
Nah, just stripping an oil tank.
This place is a death trap sure.
O'SHEA
I've warned the kids to keep out.
Cooney walks along a horizontal ladder towards O'Shea.
Alone and wandering, Lisa steps into the path of a JCB with a
big mechanical claw but still gets splashed by chalky muck
that stain her polished boots.
LISA
Watch where you're going.
Cooney and O'Shea stroll down the ramp.
COONEY
Where's Kenifick?
O'SHEA
On holiday. Leaving me up the
creek.
COONEY
Why? What's up?
Behind O'Shea the JCB Claw grabs some scrap from the "pit".
O'SHEA
Well, remember that favour you owe
me? I'm looking for some boys to
help move a few things off the
beach. An hours work, tops.
COONEY
What kinda things?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 19.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
"BEACH CLOSED" signs jut out of the rain soaked sand as
Cooney, Daly and some HELPERS winch the last of the whales
onto a JCB DUMP TRUCK, working in the rain.
Cooney gives Daly's Mate, behind the wheel of the truck, the
thumbs up and off he goes, engine rumbling.
COONEY
That'll do, boys. Pack it up.
Daly wipes the rain from his face as the Helpers pack up.
COONEY
Don't forget the shovels.
DALY
I got 'em.
Daly ventures towards the shoreline towards a pile of tools
as everyone else leaves the beach. He gathers the tools, but
then something catches his eye. He sweeps some sand off of --
DALY
-- What in the name of...?
Daly rises, shocked by whatever it is he sees until -- BAM!
A tentacle grabs onto Daly's foot and whips his weight out
from under him. He collides with the wet sand. Winded.
EXT. BEACH PROMENADE - NIGHT
Cooney throws the ropes and tools into the car boot.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
Daly claws at the sand as he's dragged into the sea, yelling.
DALY
HELP! HELP ME!!
As the ocean consumes him his gurgled CRIES drown out while
in the sand his struggle is washed away without a trace.
INT./EXT. COONEY'S CAR - NIGHT
Cooney waves the other cars off, then sits in his car. He
switches on the RADIO and checks his watch. Waiting.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT - MINUTES LATER
Cooney scans the shore and finds the mislaid tools.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 20.
COONEY
Daly?
INT./EXT. COONEY'S CAR - NIGHT
Cooney sits back at the wheel, one leg resting outside his
door, holding out for Daly's return as something moves in on
his ankle.
Not a second to spare Cooney pulls his foot inside, shuts the
door and drives off. But the car stalls, snagged on
something. He steps out, kneels and gazes under the chassis.
BAM! He's dragged under face first, feet thrashing. The car
rocks, the RADIO serenading his demise and the AIRBAG DEPLOYS.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
O'Shea leans on the counter, a whiskey before him. Avuncular
proprietor BRIAN MAHER watches from behind the counter.
ON A PUB TV: the white helicopter of the Coastguard circles
the Merry Widow boat. Footage taken earlier in the day.
RTE REPORTER (V.O.)
(over TV images)
-- search and rescue was called off
as a search and recover operation
became priority. A telling sign
that the missing fishermen are
believed to have perished.
Lisa approaches the counter/reception and hands Brian a key.
LISA
Hi, do you have an iron?
BRIAN
We do indeed.
Brian moves to get it and Lisa spots O'Shea, throwing her.
Shoeless, she rises up on her toes. Gaining two inches.
LISA
Hi.
An awkward silence.
O'SHEA
Would you like a drink?
UNA MAHER eavesdrops while wiping the counter. Una has a
face you could confide in, but shouldn't.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 21.
LISA
Another time, maybe.
Brian hands Lisa the iron.
LISA
Thanks.
(TO O'SHEA)
See you tomorrow.
O'SHEA
Tomorrow's Sunday.
LISA
Oh, right. Well, I have a key so
... see you Monday then.
She walks off and Una moves in, wiping under O'Shea's drink.
UNA
Sparks flying there, huh.
O'SHEA
What?
UNA
Do you like her?
O'SHEA
She's all right. A bit uptight.
UNA
You should talk to her.
O'SHEA
I do talk to her. I talked to her
all day.
UNA
God, ye're all the same.
BRIAN
Ah leave him off, Una.
UNA
Listen to you.
(to O'Shea; about Brian)
Eight years I was waiting for him
to get down on his knee. Have ya
ever heard the like of it? My
family thought I was mad wasting me
time on him.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 22.
BRIAN
Ah feck them.
UNA
Ah feck you, Brian.
Una shuffles off.
BRIAN
Same again?
O'SHEA
Go on.
BRIAN
I tell you what though if I
weren't, you know, I'd be up them
stairs like a shot.
Brian feels Una's stare from across the bar. He smiles at
her, placating.
Grinning to himself at the far end of the counter, Paddy
fixes O'Shea's stare.
O'SHEA
What is it, Paddy?
PADDY
Wouldn't you like to know?
O'SHEA
No, not really.
O'Shea turns back to his drink.
PADDY
But you would, though.
O'SHEA
Nope.
PADDY
You would! If you were to know
what I know you'd want to know.
O'SHEA
All right, tell us then.
Paddy shuffles closer, all excited.
PADDY
Right, between you and me, I caught
meself a sea monster today.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 23.
PADDY (CONT'D)
Swear to God, may he strike me
down.
(OFF O'SHEA)
Ya don't believe me?
O'SHEA
Not a bit.
PADDY
I'm no liar!
Brian snickers in the corner.
BRIAN
Ha!
PADDY
Feck off, you.
O'SHEA
All right, where is it?
PADDY
In me bathtub.
O'SHEA
In your bathtub?
PADDY
Having a bath.
O'SHEA
G'night, Paddy.
O'Shea downs his drink and saunters off.
PADDY
Ignorant gobshite.
O'SHEA
(stops, turns back)
What?
PADDY
Hmm?
O'SHEA
What did you say?
PADDY
Nothin'. Didn't open me mouth.
BRIAN
He called you a gobshite.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 24.
PADDY
(TO BRIAN)
You see you, if this wasn't the
only feckin' pub on this shittin'
island I'd piss on it than sooner
come in here.
BRIAN
Fine. You're barred.
Paddy thinks a moment, then cracks a smile.
PADDY
Ah I'm joking, you know that. One
more, huh?
O'Shea scoffs and leaves them, following the hallway upstairs.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
O'Shea removes a small hip flask from his pocket and drains
it. Coughs. Composes himself and approaches ROOM #3.
INT. LISA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Lisa regards her chalk-stained boots. She brushes some of
the dirt off them, sighs and returns to ironing her uniform.
A KNOCK comes to her door and she opens it to find O'Shea.
LISA
Is everything all right?
She glances down the hallway. O'Shea looks too, confused.
O'SHEA
What is it?
LISA
(REALISES)
What do you want?
O'SHEA
Come on down for a drink.
LISA
I have work tomorrow.
O'SHEA
It doesn't matter out here. No one
will know.
LISA
You're drunk.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 25.
O'SHEA
I am not. I'm sober as a judge.
O'Shea slumps against the door, reclining casually. Or so he
imagines.
LISA
Is that so? Say the alphabet
backwards for me.
O'SHEA
... Zed ... Et cetera.
LISA
I hope you're not driving?
O'SHEA
Course not. I'm taking Johnny's
horse.
LISA
You're going to ride a horse while
intoxicated?
O'SHEA
Yeah, so? The horse is sober.
LISA
Amazing, and you're in charge here.
O'SHEA
Listen, I think we got off on the
wrong foot today.
O'Shea changes weight to his other leg and accidentally kicks
over Lisa's side-table.
O'SHEA
Feck.
It clatters to the floor, knocking her toiletries over.
O'SHEA
Sorry.
LISA
It's OK.
He helps her pick them up --
O'SHEA
(notices a 'Stress Ball')
What's that?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 26.
Lisa grabs it off him, mortified as he rises with a headrush.
O'SHEA
Whoa, that last drink's gone
straight to me head.
LISA
Just your head?
O'SHEA
Well, other places too.
O'Shea grins suggestively, reading her wrong.
LISA
Do you get this drunk every night?
O'SHEA
Just high days and holidays.
O'Shea rests against the wall. Eyes drooping.
LISA
Let's get you to bed.
O'SHEA
Now you're talking.
EXT. GARDEN PATH - NIGHT
Paddy crashes his bicycle into a fence and staggers in the
gate, mumbling something about bastards and fences.
INT. PADDY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Paddy pours himself a drink of what looks like homemade
potcheen. Still muttering.
THUD! The bathroom door rattles. He looks at it, wide-eyed.
INT. PADDY'S BATHROOM - NIGHT
The door yawns opens and Paddy creeps in, wearing his welders
mask. He gazes into the tub and removes his mask. There
just as he left it is the lobster trap, but it's BROKEN.
Paddy leans down and checks the trap as behind him reflected
through the slimy residue of his bathroom cabinet's mirror
something black and slithery crawls up the wall behind him.
We see it but Paddy doesn't until a HISS. Paddy turns and
the GRABBER spits a barbed tongue and whips itself onto his
face. Paddy slams against the bathroom mirror, as if leveled
by a punch. The mirror shatters, obscuring the scuffle.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 27.
Paddy tears it off his face, gasping and flings it away.
Blood seeps from a three point puncture wound on his neck.
PADDY
You dirty ...
Paddy stamps on it, whatever it is. Again and again, until
out of breath, he staggers from the bathroom. A moment later
he returns with a standing lamp and continues beating it.
Over and over and over until he's exhausted.
PADDY
Bastard.
EXT. BUNGALOW - NIGHT
The warm glow of light from within would attract every moth
within a mile if it were a dry Summer's night, but it's not.
It's raining and it's attracting something far more sinister.
INT. BEDROOM / BUNGALOW - NIGHT
IRENE MURPHY, cocooned in a bathrobe and slippers, snatches a
pair of socks and a sweater off the floor. Muttering, she
sniffs the sweater and recoils. It reeks.
On a mission she marches through the open plan home passing
Fisherman Tadhg gazing at the TV.
IRENE
Tadhg, you're stinking. Would you
get in the bath already, I can
smell you from here.
TADHG
I'm watching this.
IRENE
(TO HERSELF)
What were you doing at all today?
Irene enters the kitchen --
EXT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
-- and dumps it in a wash basket for tomorrow's load --
A BANG against the window. Irene startles. She leans, hands
cupped around her eyes pressed up against the glass, staring
out into the darkness. Any second now she's going to be
pulled through ... only not. She tightens her robe instead.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 28.
IRENE
(TO HERSELF)
God, 'tis blowing a gale out.
TADHG (O.S.)
What?
IRENE
I said 'tis ... nothing. I don't
know why we had to move here.
There was nothing wrong with me
Mam's house.
OMITTED
OMITTED
OMITTED
OMITTED
OMITTED
INT./EXT. BUNGALOW / BEDROOM - NIGHT - INTERCUT
Tadhg scoffs, channel hopping with the remote.
TADHG
(TO HIMSELF)
Apart from your Mam.
Irene appears behind him.
IRENE
What was that?
Tadhg flicks the TV channel onto a 'TREMORS'. (Alternative:
'FAIR CITY' is on.)
THUD! The door trembles with the weight of a knock.
THUD! Cooney headbutts the door, his head flopping like a
dolls, jaw slack, eyes shut. He's dead. With arms stretched
above his head, weight supported by his intertwined wrists
and feet barely touching ground, something is swinging him.
THUD! Tadhg rouses and clears his throat.
TADHG
Irene?
Irene blow-dries her hair. She pauses to listen.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 29.
IRENE
What?
TADHG
Someone's at the door.
IRENE
I'm not dressed.
THUD! Tadhg glances disapprovingly at the clock.
TADHG
All right, all right.
He peers through the door-window. Cooney seems drunk off his
ass dirty dancing with the letterbox. Hips swiveling.
TADHG
It's that bloody Declan Cooney and
he's pissed as a fart.
Irene throws her eyes up and rises, tying her dressing gown.
IRENE
Don't give that cowboy any money.
He'll only piss it up the wall.
Tadhg opens the door.
TADHG
Cooney, you look like death. What
are you doing?
Cooney swings suggestively to Tadhg's open mouthed horror.
IRENE
What does he want?
TADHG
(TO HIMSELF)
To dance?
Irene joins Tadhg at the door. Suddenly Cooney collapses,
crumpling like a pile of wet laundry.
IRENE
Jesus.
TADHG
Cooney? Are you all right, mate?
Tadhg steps over Cooney's broken twisted body.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 30.
TADHG
Cooney?
Suddenly Tadhg's pounced upon and whipped up out of sight.
IRENE
Tadhg! Tadhg!
Irene chases after him as roof tiles tumble down on her.
HE'S GONE. She scurries inside and locks the door.
INT. BUNGALOW - NIGHT
The TV flickers as the reception falters. Outside the window
the satellite dish bounces onto the driveway.
Irene backs through the bungalow, shaking. The violent
SCUFFLE on the roof rattling the ceiling light-shade.
IRENE
Honey? Oh God. Oh God.
A WEIRD, PITCHED ROAR takes Irene's breath away. Whatever
snatched Tadhg sounds unnatural, huge and mean.
Soot tumbles down the chimney drawing Irene's attention.
She runs and kneels before the fireplace and receives a blast
of black soot to the face. She coughs and sputters and
reaches up to close the chimney chute. Fumbling, whimpering.
INSIDE THE CHIMNEY CHUTE
Something descends towards her, gaining speed. Irene grabs
blindly at the clasp ...
Her eyes dart open. That's not the clasp! She SCREAMS and
flies up the chute like a mouse sucked up a hoover. And as
her CRIES die out all that's left in the open fireplace is a
pair of orphaned fluffy pink slippers.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - MORNING
Lisa DINGS the reception bell. Una stumbles to her call.
UNA
Good morning. Sleep well?
LISA
Grand, thanks. Do I have something
to sign?
UNA
Oh yeah. The big one.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 31.
Una grabs her bill and hands it to Lisa.
LISA
How's the weather looking?
UNA
Oh, there's a storm coming.
LISA
Really? Are the gulls flying low
or something?
UNA
No, it's on the telly.
Una gestures to the TV weather report. Lisa smiles. Of
course. She fishes out her credit card.
UNA
So, you're working with O'Shea?
LISA
Temporarily.
UNA
He's a nice fella isn't he? Quite
a catch.
LISA
Depends what you're fishing.
Una hands Lisa her receipt to sign and watches her writing.
UNA
Single?
(off Lisa's nod)
So's O'Shea. Well, widowed.
Lisa looks up.
LISA
Widowed?
UNA
Why do you think he's here? Sure
there's no want for him round this
neck of the woods but I suppose he
wanted the peace. Or his superiors
thought he did. He doesn't say,
God love him.
Lisa smiles uncomfortably and hands her receipt to Una.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 32.
UNA
So will you be sticking to the same
room all week? Because we have a
few doubles. There's more room in
those, you know yourself.
Una winks knowingly.
LISA
The single room is fine.
UNA
Are you sure now? You never know
if you want to stretch your legs
later on. Give it a week and we'll
be booked solid, so we will.
LISA
I'll think about it.
Lisa hightails it.
INT. CELL, GARDA STATION - MORNING
Panned out on a rubber mattress you'd swear O'Shea was dead
if he wasn't SNORING like a Granddad.
The heavy cell door flies open and SLAMS off the wall. Lisa
stand in the doorway as O'Shea jerks awake.
LISA
Morning.
O'SHEA
Wha..?
LISA
How much does a place like this go
for? I mean it's close to the
beach, all mod-cons. It's perfect.
O'SHEA
I ... uh, what happened?
LISA
Section four point one of the
Public Order Act. It is an offence
for any person to be present in any
public place while intoxicated to
such an extent as would give rise
to a reasonable apprehension that
the person might endanger
themselves or any other in the
vicinity.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 33.
O'SHEA
You arrested me?!
LISA
For your own good.
O'SHEA
Let me out of here.
LISA
Relax. You passed out before I
could find your house.
The phone RINGS! Lisa picks it up.
LISA
Garda Nolan.
EXT. MARINE CENTRE - MORNING
Paddy escorts O'Shea and Lisa along the short wooden pier,
past the moored yachts and into the marine research centre.
PADDY
So I get a reward for discovering
it, right? A finders fee?
O'SHEA
We'll discuss it later.
PADDY
But I get something, right?
They enter.
INT. LAB - MORNING
Shrivelled tentacles spill over the gurney as a hideous mouth
gapes open as if in the dentist's chair. Smith stands over
it, forceps in hand, as O'Shea, Paddy and Lisa enter.
O'SHEA
Eurgh.
SMITH
Is that your professional opinion?
Smith removes his surgical-mask revealing an excited grin.
PADDY
A Grabber.
O'SHEA
A what?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 34.
SMITH
I told you I'm not calling it that.
It needs a binomial nomenclature,
one identifying its genus and class
and once I've figured that out --
PADDY
I discovered it. I get to name it.
Smith smiles at Lisa.
SMITH
Hi.
Lisa smiles at Smith.
LISA
Hi.
O'Shea smiles at Lisa. Mocking.
O'SHEA
Hi.
Lisa's smile drops. Paddy looks confused.
PADDY
(TO LISA)
Hello.
LISA
What is that thing?
SMITH
I haven't a clue. I've never seen
anything like it. It's a completely
foreign species. I can't even begin
to originate or class it.
PADDY
A Grabber.
Smith sighs.
LISA
And this attacked you?
Paddy pulls his collar back exposing his bandaged neck.
PADDY
Stuck on the ceiling, it was. Like
a pancake. Nearly ripped me throat
out.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 35.
O'Shea leans in for a closer look of the creature.
O'SHEA
Is it dead?
SMITH
I'm not sure.
O'Shea leans back, and half-steps away too for good measure.
O'SHEA
You're not what?
SMITH
Well basic tests I've done so far
have shown up nothing usual or
normal. It's beyond mystifying.
Really I can't be certain without
opening it up.
Paddy WHACKS it with his walking stick. Nothing.
PADDY
'Tis dead.
SMITH
Would you stop doing that? It
isn't any wonder it bit you.
Lisa stares at its multi-fanged jaws.
LISA
What's that in its mouth?
SMITH
Its tongue. Check it out.
Smith takes hold of its tongue and extends it three foot with
a barbed tip like a mace. Off O'Shea and Lisa's awed faces.
LISA
That's not a tongue.
O'SHEA
It's a weapon.
PADDY
It spits like a frog and strangles
ya. Whippet fast, and sharp.
SMITH
I'm guessing it bleeds its prey
like a leech. Consuming the blood,
like some sort of vampiro toothis.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 36.
O'SHEA
Vampiro what?
SMITH
Toothis. It's a rare deep sea
squid but this isn't that, not in
Irish waters. No, this is
something totally different.
Something ... alien.
(off their looks)
In that it's undocumented.
PADDY
It's gotta be worth a fortune.
SMITH
But here's the thing...
Smith picks up a sponge, daubs it in a tray of water and --
SMITH
-- When I tried to clean some dirt
off of it --
PADDY
I stood on it a few times.
SMITH
-- this happened --
-- he delicately dabs the tip of a tentacle. The Grabber's
skin reacts, rehydrating. Smith watches it expectantly.
Suddenly the tip twitches. Smith smiles at them.
SMITH
All this thing needs to survive is
blood ... and water.
O'Shea frowns, watching it.
PADDY
Could you put it on the eBay, do ya
think?
SMITH
You are not putting this on eBay.
You're lucky she didn't kill you.
O'SHEA
She?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 37.
SMITH
Yeah, it's a female from what I can
tell.
PADDY
How can you tell?
SMITH
It's got no testicles.
A long silence, Paddy nods. I see.
SMITH
And ... she was pregnant.
He reveals an EGG SPAWN. Gelatine and gooey. Inside is a
baby Grabber; a Jack-in-the-box type creature aka a JUMPER.
LISA
That's disgusting.
Lisa recoils: it stinks. Smith toys with it, marveling.
SMITH
We're dealing with something
extraordinary here. And if it
looks like this when it hatches,
then this species nests on land.
O'Shea and Lisa share a look. Uh oh.
INT./EXT. PATROL JEEP - DAY
O'Shea switches gears as they make their way along the coast.
LISA
Do you reckon those things had
anything to do with those dead
whales?
O'Shea considers her, thinking. They pass the promenade and
O'Shea cranes his head to see something.
LISA
What is it?
O'SHEA
That's Declan Cooney's car.
EXT. BEACH PROMENADE - DAY
Cooney's car sits abandoned, its door open and airbag flat.
O'Shea and Lisa pull in behind it and step out of the jeep.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 38.
O'SHEA
Cooney?!
O'Shea takes a LEPRECHAUN KEYCHAIN from the ignition, then
notes some unusual scratches along the car's body work.
LISA
Where could he be?
O'SHEA
Nowhere without his keys. Do you
believe in coincidences?
LISA
Not really.
O'SHEA
Neither do I.
O'Shea looks around and focuses on the Murphy's Bungalow up
ahead and overlooking them.
O'SHEA
Come on.
LISA
Where are we going?
O'SHEA
When you're looking for answers you
gotta go asking questions.
He walks off. Lisa's impressed.
EXT. BUNGALOW - DAY
Lisa steps over some broken slate tiles and rings the
DOORBELL. No one's home. O'Shea spies in the window to the
LIVING ROOM
Lisa copies him. They notice: all the house lights are on.
O'SHEA
All the lights are on.
EXT. BUNGALOW - DAY
O'Shea turns and bumps into Lisa, behind him. She steps
aside. O'Shea smiles.
Something's different about her. Her hair's down, she's
dressed casual. She looks nice.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 39.
O'SHEA
How come you're not in uniform?
LISA
It's Sunday.
(off O'Shea's look)
Hey, neither are you!
O'Shea smiles to himself.
O'SHEA
It suits you.
Lisa reads him wrong, so just to piss him off --
LISA
-- Smith's a nice fella, isn't he?
O'SHEA
Oh he's positively smashing.
(KNOCKS AGAIN)
LISA
A proper gentleman. And such
polite company.
O'SHEA
Uh huh. Tadhg? Irene?
LISA
A lovely fella.
Lisa throws O'Shea a pointed look. O'Shea shrugs her off.
O'SHEA
He's like you, he's married to his
job.
LISA
I'm not-- I take pride in my work.
Unlike yourself.
O'SHEA
Shush, I'm working.
O'Shea raps on the door and calls in the letterbox.
O'SHEA
Tadhg? Irene?
LISA
You're looking in the wrong place,
Columbo.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 40.
She gestures to the fallen roof tiles.
MINUTES LATER
O'Shea sets a ladder against the roof (from the garage) and
before he even has the option, Lisa climbs it.
LISA
Hold it steady.
O'SHEA
You're something else, you know
that. You should've joined the
army, not the guards.
O'Shea sneaks a glance of Lisa's arse as she climbs.
LISA
Stop talking to yourself. It's
very distracting.
O'SHEA
I'm not talking to myself, I'm
talking to you.
LISA
(NOT LISTENING)
Uh huh, great. There's something
up here.
O'SHEA
Could you be a bit more specific?
LISA
It's a --
-- A checked shirt, the sleeve of which leads towards a lump
that's buried under more rags.
O'SHEA
Well?
LISA
Ugh, it stinks like that thing.
Lisa tugs on the sleeve and THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Something rolls towards her.
LISA
Oh the Divine Mother of Jesus --
Lisa leans sharply out of its way as down below: O'Shea
sneaks a sip of his flask.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 41.
LISA
Watch out!
O'Shea looks up to see
TADHG'S SEVERED HEAD spinning towards him. BOP! Headbutted
in the face, O'Shea clutches his nose.
O'SHEA
Aw Jesus Cock!
Lisa looks down at the gawping severed head, sickened.
LISA
You broke its nose.
INT. DOCTOR'S SURGERY - DAY
Dr Gleeson replaces a sheet over Tadhg's head as Lisa paces
on a mobile phone, O'Shea watching.
O'SHEA
What killed him, Jim?
DR GLEESON
The fact he's just a head!
Dr Gleeson turns back, writing.
DR GLEESON
Jesus what do you think? You bring
me someone with a head cold or a
headache and I could do something.
You bring me just a head and you're
taking the piss.
LISA
(INTO PHONE)
So when can they get here? ...
(for O'Shea's benefit)
Tomorrow? ... And what about the
state pathologist?
DR GLEESON
They could bury him in a shoebox.
That's not right.
LISA
(hand over receiver)
Doctor, we need to know.
DR GLEESON
I don't know. A tiger?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 42.
O'SHEA
A tiger?!
LISA
I can't say that.
Dr Gleeson loosens his tie.
DR GLEESON
I'm telling you his head was torn
off. By something big.
O'Shea shares a look with Lisa.
INT. GARDA STATION - DAY
O'Shea uploads crime scene photos of Tadhg's bungalow onto a
laptop as Lisa paces on the phone.
LISA
(INTO PHONE)
No, no, don't put me through I've
already spoken to -- ugh. Thanks.
Lisa sighs. She's been at this a while, it seems.
O'Shea pulls his hip flask from his jacket pocket and
furtively sneaks a sip, savouring it.
PADDY
Holy Christ, wait till I tell ya!
O'Shea chokes on his drink, coughing. He spins to face
Paddy, quickly hiding his flask.
O'SHEA
Jesus, Paddy.
PADDY
What? What's wrong with ya?
O'SHEA
What is it?
PADDY
Come look for yourself.
Lisa looks at O'Shea. A silent exchange. Lisa hangs up.
INT. PADDY'S BATHROOM - DAY
A demolished wall offers a new entrance to the backyard,
where amongst rubble, Paddy's scratched bathtub lays.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 43.
PADDY
How am I supposed to wash meself?
O'Shea thinks...
INT. PADDY'S HOUSE - DAY - SECONDS LATER
O'Shea unrolls a map of Erin Island on the living room table.
He points at four spots on the map. A zig-zag pattern.
O'SHEA
OK, we're here. Here's where
Cooney's car was abandoned. Here's
Tadhg and Irene Murphy's house and
here's where the whales washed up.
LISA
OK, so what does that mean?
O'Shea stares blankly.
O'SHEA
I have no idea. I was hoping it
would show some sort of pattern.
PADDY
It's the letter zed!
LISA
(TO PADDY)
Did you show that thing to anyone
else before we saw it?
PADDY
Tadhg Murphy got a look of it when
I brought it in. It gawked on him,
but that was it.
Lisa and O'Shea share a look.
PADDY
Why?
LISA
We think there might be another one
of those things, at least one
anyway.
PADDY
Are you serious?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 44.
O'SHEA
Yeah. That thing you caught
couldn't have fertilised that egg
by itself, which would mean there's
a male out there big enough and
strong enough to knock a hole in
your bathroom wall.
LISA
(OFF THAT)
Smith said it needs water, right?
O'SHEA
He says a lot of things.
PADDY
Mostly bollocks.
LISA
Whatever. But if it needs water to
survive, how could it be moving
about on dry land?
Water drips in Paddy's demolished bathroom, Paddy stares at
it. Drip-drip-drip.
PADDY
It was raining! When it rains
there's no such thing as dry land.
O'Shea and Lisa consider this.
LISA
There's a storm due tonight.
PADDY
It'll piss it down.
O'Shea steels, and studies the map intensely.
O'SHEA
OK, all this is on the west side of
the island, right? So that would
make this area its territory; which
would mean it's got to be somewhere
close. Somewhere with access to
the waters around the west beach.
PADDY
The black rock caves. I caught the
female just beyond there.
O'Shea considers this. He looks to Lisa:
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 45.
O'SHEA
What do you think?
LISA
I think we've got at least two
missing persons. We need to take a
look.
EXT. BEACH - DAY
Paddy leads O'Shea and Lisa towards the rocky beach where the
tide's quickly coming in. (Note: O'Shea and Lisa have taken
a pair of flashlights and O'Shea's Garda hat from the jeep.)
PADDY
(talking away to himself)
Ya know what's to blame for all
this? Global warming. Ya got your
icebergs meltin' and your
thingmajigs floodin'. The whole
world's drownin' and we don't have
the gills for it.
Following a few paces behind Paddy, O'Shea takes a pull off
his flask which Lisa notices.
O'SHEA
What?
LISA
I didn't say anything.
O'SHEA
You gave me that look.
LISA
What look?
O'SHEA
The "I feel sorry for you" look.
LISA
No I didn't.
O'SHEA
Yeah you did.
LISA
No, I gave you the "I feel
embarrassed for you" look. Big
difference.
She walks on faster, leaving him trailing behind. Thinking.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 46.
O'SHEA
Sure that's worse!
Paddy rounds some rocks and comes upon the cliff face.
O'SHEA
Look, I know I'm no dandy fop, Ph.
D. Smith type.
LISA
What's Smith got to do with your
raging alcoholism? Hmm?
O'SHEA
I'm not a raging-- You're some
character you know that. A real
character. I'm a social drinker.
LISA
Uh huh. Of course you are.
O'Shea takes a big swig of his flask just to piss her off.
LISA
Lovely.
PADDY
We're here.
EXT. BEACH, CAVE MOUTH - DAY
They stand before the cave mouth, taking it in. Dark and
oppressive and claustrophobic. Water drips within. A wave
washes up behind them, drenching their feet.
PADDY
Tides coming in. Another hour and
this place will be under water.
O'SHEA
Wait here.
PADDY
You can be sure of it.
Lisa and O'Shea turn on their high beam flashlights and
venture into the cave, Mulder and Scully style.
Water drips from the cave walls while the sound of crashing
waves echoes throughout.
At the cave mouth, the dregs of a wave wash over Paddy's
boots. He looks into the cave, anxiously.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 47.
Venturing further into the shadowy cave, Lisa finds an arched
entrance to the rising ocean as fog creeps around her feet.
O'Shea rounds some rocks, finding Lisa and seeing her
flashlight has found a fisherman's shredded slicker. (The
remains of the Merry Widow's Deckhand Greg.)
LISA
Are we missing some fishermen?
O'SHEA
(CALLS OUT)
Hello!
Lisa jolts, startled by O'Shea.
LISA
My heart! What are you doing?
O'SHEA
Just checking. Well, if you know
of a better way?
(CALLS AGAIN)
Hello?!
LISA
What are you expecting? "Helloooo,
'tis only me."
A SHADOW rises up stealing the light. O'Shea and Lisa turn.
They lift the flashlights and take in the horrifying sight.
O'SHEA
Run!
They take off, running for the slim cave mouth. Their lights
dancing in the darkness as they scramble for the exit --
leading onto the beach. The narrow gap allows just one
person at a time. And at a push. Lisa edges through first.
INT./EXT. BEACH CAVE OPENING - DAY - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea waits behind Lisa, watching behind them, and sees the
light of his flashlight go dark, swallowed by something
coming his way.
O'SHEA
Lisa! Hurry!
LISA
I'm trying!
O'SHEA
Move your arse!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 48.
O'Shea pushes on her arse as she squeezes through.
LISA
Get your hands off my arse!
O'Shea shoves harder.
LISA
I swear to God, if you don't stop!
Lisa kicks back at him, but he keeps pushing. She tumbles
onto the seaweed strewn sands, drenched by the incoming tide,
as O'Shea squeezes through next. Soon, wedged in himself.
O'SHEA
If I die in here I want you to know
it's all your fault!
LISA
Oh shut up.
Lisa wraps her arms around O'Shea, cheek-to-awkwardly-
intimate-cheek and pulls, dragging him loose. With effort.
The Grabber rushes towards O'Shea, gaining speed. Almost on
him when he escapes, seconds to spare.
BAM! The Grabber fills the gap in the rock face, trapped by
its own bulk. It snarls as one of its tentacles slithers out
towards them, but quickly retreats back inside.
LISA
The size of it.
They back up, horrified.
O'SHEA
It's OK. It can't get us on dry
land. Not when it's not raining,
it can't.
WHIPAH! A barbed tongue shoots out from the darkness of the
cave and lances O'Shea's Garda hat clean off his head.
O'Shea blinks, feeling his bare head.
O'SHEA
... What?
A THUNDER-CRACK from the ominous rain clouds.
LISA
Leg it!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 49.
EXT. BEACH - DAY
Paddy steps out of the way of an oncoming wave and kicks
something with his heel. He kneels down and finds an EGG.
PADDY
Mother of God.
Eggs piled high like a fun fare ball pit. He barely has time
to process this as O'Shea and Lisa come bounding towards him.
PADDY
The eggs are buried on the beach!
There's feckin' loads of 'em!
LISA
Run!
Paddy regards the egg then takes off after O'Shea and Lisa.
And in the gouged out sand beneath their feet more exposed
EGGS flutter with life. These things are close to hatching.
INT. LAB - DAY
O'Shea, Lisa and Paddy stumble in, making a beeline for the
Grabber female on the table. Smith looks up from his laptop
to see O'Shea who has a petrol can and a plan in mind.
SMITH
Good, you're back. I have a
theory! Those whales were killed
as a food source for their spawn --
O'SHEA
The eggs are buried at the beach.
SMITH
Exactly.
LISA
We know.
SMITH
Oh.
PADDY
Well done.
SMITH
What are you doing?
O'SHEA
Everywhere that's been, the other
one's followed.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 50.
SMITH
You found another one? Where?
O'SHEA
It tried to eat us! And it's HUGE
and looking for her ... but this
will be the last place it looks.
He pours petrol all over it. Lisa hands him the lighter.
SMITH
Are you mad? Don't do that!
Lisa takes a fire extinguisher off the wall.
SMITH
No, stop, you'll --
LISA
Smith, it's for the best.
SMITH
No, you muppet! If he lights that
in here you'll--
O'Shea drops the lighter and BOOM! It flashes up in flames.
WHOOSH! The sprinklers blast to life and water rains down on
them, the lab and the dormant amphibious bloodsucking alien.
SMITH
-- get it wet.
O'SHEA
Shit.
SMITH
You really are Irish.
Lisa drops the fire extinguisher.
LISA
Shut it off!
PADDY
See ya later, lads.
Paddy scampers out as O'Shea, Lisa and Smith scramble for the
mains under the sink. Six hands fighting to shut it off.
Once they do, every surface drips. A fish-tank overflows.
They rise slowly from the slick floor. It's eerily quiet.
Smith picks up a stool. Lisa grabs a scalpel. O'Shea rolls
up a magazine. They creep forward.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 51.
SMITH
Careful. Once it's wet I don't
know what it can do.
O'Shea edges closer. It's unscathed from the fire.
O'SHEA
It didn't burn.
LISA
Is it dead?
O'SHEA
I --
BOOM! It launches to life, sprays O'Shea with goo and dives
onto him, wrapping around his face, head and neck.
Lisa and Smith leap to his aid and battle what looks like a
dozen boa constrictors working as one, choking him.
O'Shea flails and smashes into lab units, knocking a utility
closet open. Brooms and mops fall out as O'Shea slumps onto
the wet floor.
Lisa and Smith pull tentacles loose and O'Shea gasps for air.
His drained, ashen skin pocked with bleeding bite wounds.
Smith flings the limp Grabber across the lab and it hits the
wet floor, flopping woozily and vomiting blood.
It bears down on its tentacles and springs itself onto the
ceiling like an octopus shot out of an air cannon. SPLAT!
It hits the fluorescent light and hangs from it, upside down.
Smith blinks, agog.
SMITH
OK, it's an alien.
O'Shea feels his wounds. Furious, he grabs one of the mops
surrounding him and jabs at the Grabber with the handle.
O'SHEA
You vicious little fu--!
The Grabber bites down on the handle and hangs on. O'Shea
suddenly takes the full weight of it. It totters above their
heads, swaying. Lisa and Smith duck.
LISA
Ah! Jesus! O'Shea!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 52.
O'Shea drops it onto the floor and Lisa yanks a steel cabinet
over, pinning it down. Trapped, the Grabber thrashes.
O'SHEA
We need to kill it.
SMITH
No! You can't! It's the
scientific discovery of our time,
imagine all that we could learn
FROM --
The cabinet flips, exposing the Grabber. Smith SCREAMS and
brains it with his stool. Scared shitless, O'Shea and Lisa
pile in with their boots. All three whacking and stamping
until they're sure it's dead.
Sweating and in shock, they catch their breath.
SMITH
I think we got it.
O'SHEA
(PATS SMITH)
Good man.
O'Shea flicks the Grabber goop out of his hair.
SMITH
It's still moving.
LISA
We need to get help.
O'SHEA
They'll never make it across the
water.
LISA
If those eggs hatch, with no whales
to eat --
SMITH
-- they'll head in land to feed.
O'SHEA
Finishing each other's sentences
now?
LISA
What?
O'SHEA
Nothing.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 53.
PADDY
They're hatching.
The trio turn to notice Paddy has joined them looking down at
the smooshed Grabber. O'Shea considers Paddy.
O'SHEA
It took three of us to get that
thing off me.
PADDY
I woulda helped but I've a bad
back, gives me shocking pain, you
know yourself.
O'SHEA
How are you still alive?
PADDY
Diet and exercise.
O'SHEA
No, when that thing attacked you.
You should be laid out in a box
right now, but you're not. What
makes you so special?
PADDY
I was always lucky.
O'Shea disregards him and takes a swig of his flask as Lisa
considers the bloody sick. Queasy.
SMITH
Mustn't have liked your blood much.
LISA
What have you been eating?
O'Shea stills, hearing that question.
O'SHEA
(TO PADDY)
You were drunk!
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - DAY
Storm clouds gather over the idyllic drinking hole as gales
jeer and waves pile on the pub's neighbouring harbour.
INT. DR GLEESON'S SURGERY - DAY
Dr Gleeson peers at the Grabber's severed head in a beaker,
gawping away like a fish head. He squirms.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 54.
DR GLEESON
Grabbers?
SMITH
No, it's a cryptozoological
amphibious sanguivore.
LISA
(to Dr Gleeson)
Not a tiger.
Dr Gleeson removes his glasses to stare at O'Shea.
DR GLEESON
Where are you getting all these
heads?
O'SHEA
Come on.
O'Shea leads the group leaving Dr Gleeson to add --
DR GLEESON
This place has gone to the dogs.
EXT. STEPS TO MAHER'S PUB - DAY
O'Shea, Lisa, Dr Gleeson, Smith and Paddy head for the pub.
O'Shea's setting the pace leaving Paddy hustling to keep up.
O'SHEA
They're like leeches, right? They
feed off your blood. Well when one
of them bit Paddy, it almost died,
why?
PADDY
Slow down for fuck sake.
LISA
Because Paddy was so intoxicated
his blood-alcohol level was toxic.
O'SHEA
Exactly. If we taint our blood
with booze, we're poisonous to eat.
SMITH
In theory.
PADDY
(to Dr Gleeson)
And you told me to cut back.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 55.
Dr Gleeson shrugs.
O'SHEA
We have just one night where we
have to deal with this on our own.
Tomorrow, we'll be sorted. We'll
get off the island, they'll nuke
the beaches or whatever they do,
but all we have to worry about is
tonight. And it's simple. We have
a lock-in. We stay out of the rain
and we drink.
(turns to face them)
We can't stop them coming but we
can be ready.
O'Shea backs into the pub. Lisa, Smith, Paddy and Dr Gleeson
look at each other -- wow -- and follow him inside.
INT. MAHER'S PUB KITCHEN - DAY
Brian stares, incredulous.
BRIAN
What?
SMITH
A hostile migra --
DR GLEESON
-- Grabbers.
SMITH
God sake.
BRIAN
Are ye for real?
PADDY
Are we for real? Are YOU for real?
Show him.
Smith plops a beaker covered with a tea cosy on the counter.
He raises it just a tad to show Brian.
BRIAN
That? Sure you could kill that
with a hammer.
O'SHEA
That's just the tip of the blood
sucking iceberg.
Brian considers the four of them; all look gravely serious.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 56.
BRIAN
(CONVINCED)
Grabbers.
SMITH
I give up. Yes, a Grabber.
Smith covers the beaker again.
DR GLEESON
But if its allergic to booze can't
we just hose 'em with vodka or some
shit?
O'SHEA
No, that won't work.
BRIAN
How do you know?
SMITH
Because alcohol is a poison. It
needs to be ingested to take
affect. Also to preserve specimens
I keep them in an alcohol based
solution. Just like with this one,
right now.
Smith taps the tea cosy.
BRIAN
It's filled with?
SMITH
Yep.
PADDY
Can you drink it?
DR GLEESON
So what if we sprayed whiskey in
its mouth?
PADDY
Feck that. A waste of whiskey.
LISA
If you want to get that close to
it, good luck.
Una passes with a washing basket. She stops, seeing them.
UNA
What's going on here then?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 57.
BRIAN
Just discussing something.
UNA
Looks like you're plotting
something.
O'SHEA
No, no. More like planning.
UNA
Huh.
(thinks, smiles)
Carry on.
She leaves, grinning.
BRIAN
Great. It's her birthday next week
now she thinks this is something
for her.
DR GLEESON
She's in for a shock.
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - DAY
O'Shea, Lisa, Smith, Brian and Dr Gleeson huddle.
O'SHEA
Listen, the only people that know
about this are us and it's gotta
stay that way or we'll have a panic
on our hands.
The group confer, sharing glances.
LISA
How drunk are we talking here?
SMITH
Paddy levels of drunkenness.
They laugh loudly.
DR GLEESON
You're gone off your game, boy.
LISA
No offence but I don't think my
body can handle Paddy levels.
PADDY
It takes years of practice.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 58.
BRIAN
If those things do come for us,
we'd be lambs to the slaughter if
bombed out of our brains.
LISA
And with everyone hammered there's
no one in a fit state to call the
shots. The non-alcoholic shots.
DR GLEESON
Yeah but single someone out and
they'll be sought as the only meat
on the menu.
LISA
But what's to keep us safe from
ourselves, forget what's outside,
we could fall over and break our
necks trying to conga. Statistics
prove put a large number of people
in a confined space, ply them with
booze and --
PADDY
-- you've got a hooley.
LISA
That's not what it said.
O'SHEA
This will work. And I'll keep
order. I won't be drinking.
Lisa almost steps back to take a closer look of him.
LISA
You? We'll both do it.
SMITH
That would put you both at risk. I
suggest it's just O'Shea.
O'SHEA
Thanks.
(TO LISA)
Only one of us need risk it and I
know these people and this island
better than you. It should be me.
SMITH
I agree.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 59.
Lisa ushers O'Shea aside (leaving the others talking amongst
themselves).
LISA
I see what you're doing here but
have you forgotten you're a
dependent alcoholic organising a
piss up in a brewery! I'll do it.
It'll be easier.
O'SHEA
Lisa, I'm good to no one when I
drink. I know that. So do you. I
can do this.
PADDY
It's gonna rain any minute.
Lisa looks at him, holding his stare. O'Shea doesn't flinch.
FINALLY --
LISA
OK. But just so you know, I don't
drink. I've never even been drunk.
I don't know if I can.
O'SHEA
Of course you can. And you'll be
the best drunken Guard this
country's ever seen. You'll
probably get promoted.
LISA
Ah stop.
O'Shea smiles encouragingly. He takes out his flask and
hands it to her. Suddenly he seems taller.
SMITH
Right, if we're doing this we'll
need a blood test from a healthy
subject. Lisa, you're the fittest
person here.
LISA
(BLUSHES)
You charmer. It's true, though.
O'SHEA
Brian, I want a table of everything
Paddy had last night.
BRIAN
What night was last night?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 60.
PADDY
Saturday night.
LISA
Oh you gotta be joking me!
PADDY
Oh it was a big one.
BRIAN
Comin' right up.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - DAY - LATER
The table has six empties on it. Lisa sees double that
though as she grips her seat for balance.
LISA
He never liked me as much as her.
She was the talented one, Daddy's
little girl. That bitch!
O'Shea holds her beer hand steady.
O'SHEA
Come on. Three fingers.
LISA
But I got you guys. I love you
all. Even you.
(PRODS O'SHEA)
BRIAN
She's langers.
She downs the dregs and breathes deeply through her nose
while stroking her hair as only drunk women do.
O'SHEA
There, that's everything.
Brian, Dr Gleeson and Smith don't know if they should clap.
Paddy reaches into his pocket sheepishly.
PADDY
I also had a snifter of ...
A small bottle of what looks like water. O'Shea stares him,
knowing the answer before he asks.
BRIAN
What's that?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 61.
PADDY
A little home brew.
BRIAN
You bring potcheen into my bar?
PADDY
A bird never flew on one wing.
O'SHEA
When this is over we need to talk.
PADDY
Ah come off it, this could save all
our lives yet.
Paddy pours a drop for Lisa.
PADDY
There ya go, pet.
Brian takes the bottle of potcheen from Paddy.
BRIAN
I'll take that.
PADDY
You will in me shit.
O'SHEA
Paddy.
Lisa downs the potcheen and rests her head on the table.
LISA
I need to pee.
INT. DISUSED PUB - DAY
Dr Gleeson draws blood from Lisa. O'Shea, Brian and Paddy
watch. Smith marks up a petri dish with his blood.
LISA
Ow.
Smith places his petri dish of blood next to a cage and --
WHIPAH! A tongue shoots out and hoovers up all the blood.
Brian's shocked. Paddy almost chuckles.
O'SHEA
Now the tainted blood.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 62.
BRIAN
If you're right, this will kill it?
O'Shea presents Lisa's petri dish of blood and WHIPAH -- it
hoovers it up.
The group leans in expectantly and BLEURGH! The Grabber
projectile vomits up all the blood, startling and revolting
them -- Ugh! And then it warps, withers and shrivels. Dead.
O'Shea holds the breathalyser in Lisa's mouth.
O'SHEA
Blow.
(READS)
Point two.
DR GLEESON
Holy Christ!
O'SHEA
OK, now we know what we gotta do.
Keep our blood alcohol levels at
point two.
The group's horrified, except for Paddy.
DR GLEESON
(TO PADDY)
You unnatural eejit. You're
what'll kill us. Point two?!
SMITH
How are we going to determine that
based on each person's body mass
index?
DR GLEESON
You're looking at up to ten pints
each depending on height and
weight.
BRIAN
We'll have to do shots. Properly
tear the arse out of it.
O'SHEA
So lets do it.
BRIAN
(A THOUGHT)
Who's going to pay for all this by
the way?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 63.
EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - DAY
The patrol jeep parks at the chapel.
EXT. CHAPEL - DAY
Brian, O'Shea and Lisa make their way towards the chapel
doors.
OMITTED
OMITTED
INT. CHAPEL - DAY
FR POTTS, an incredulous elder statesman, finishes mass. His
eclectic congregation of forty or so ISLANDERS bless
themselves -- FISHERMEN, HOUSEWIVES, OAPs, Una, etc.
FR POTTS
Mass has ended, go in peace to love
and serve the Lord. Amen.
O'Shea, Brian and Lisa enter the back of the chapel.
O'SHEA
Is this everyone?
BRIAN
It's Fr Potts last mass, so
everyone that didn't leave
yesterday for the thing in Dungary.
O'Shea and Lisa walk up the aisle towards Fr Potts as people
rise to leave, some chatting to each other as they go.
O'SHEA
Father, do you mind if I say a few
words?
FR POTTS
Go mad.
O'Shea takes to the pulpit.
O'SHEA
Can I have your attention please?
The congregation looks up, considering O'Shea. MAMIE, a grey
haired granny, tuts to her neighbour.
MAMIE
Oh here we go.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 64.
O'SHEA
Folks, just a quick announcement,
at Maher's Tavern tonight we're
having a bit of a shindig and
you're all coming to join us for
what will be a great night's craic!
A wall of silence.
UNA
You're throwing a party?
O'SHEA
Yeah.
UNA
Why?
O'SHEA
Who needs a reason to have a laugh?
Lisa gestures to O'Shea, still drunk but she'll field this
one.
LISA
It's a welcome party for me.
Lisa seems very proud of herself for coming up with that.
UNA
A welcome party? But you're
leaving in a fortnight.
LISA
So it's a goodbye party. Whatever.
UNA
You only just got here.
LISA
(TO O'SHEA)
What's her problem?
O'SHEA
What we mean to say is --
A FISHERMAN rises to leave.
LISA
-- Hey bucko! Where are you going?
This party's for your benefit. And
all of you are gonna be there too.
It's the law!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 65.
LISA (CONT'D)
And I swear to God I'll arrest any
one of you who isn't. Chalk it
down!
Lisa glares at the congregation.
FISHERMAN
Are you coddin' us, love?
LISA
What's your name?
He wilts.
O'SHEA
What Garda Nolan means is we'd love
your company. There's no point
going home to a cold, empty house
in weather like tonight when we'll
be right across the street from
here and we'll have music and craic
and company -- and a FREE BAR!
BRIAN
What?!
HILDA, a stout woman, grabs her coat.
HILDA
Sold!
O'SHEA
That's the spirit! So c'mon, it's
a party and the drinks are on us!
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
The JUKEBOX bellows with The Dubliners "Whiskey in the Jar" as
Brian wades through the forty strong patrons. The drink's
flowing, the merriment's joyous, ignorance is bliss.
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
O'Shea, Lisa, Paddy, Smith and Dr Gleeson are gathered over a
table.
O'SHEA
Weapons. What have we got?
Lisa fumbles some skillets, knives and bats.
LISA
Crap.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 66.
DR GLEESON
I've got a nail-gun.
THWACK! He nails a board of wood.
DR GLEESON
And a board with a nail in it.
O'Shea nods. OK.
PADDY
I've got a hurley and a pellet gun.
SMITH
What are we gonna do with a pellet
gun?
PADDY
Shoot pellets. But I don't have
any pellets.
SMITH
Great, well you can just wave it at
them then.
O'SHEA
All right, what have you got?
SMITH
I've got a flare gun.
Everyone's impressed, except Paddy.
LISA
I dibs the flare gun.
Brian slams a huge colourful Super-soaker before them.
BRIAN
C.P.S. forty-one hundred pump
action twin jet Super Soaker.
Shoots twenty feet. The nephew's.
PADDY
A water pistol? This thing likes
the water.
BRIAN
It's a water pistol if you use
water. Fill it with petrol and
you've got a flamethrower.
LISA
I dibs the water pistol.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 67.
O'SHEA
Right, well look sharp. You know
your stations: guard each exit and
don't let anyone out. Bottoms up.
They each raise shot glasses and knock them back. Lisa licks
her salted wrist.
LISA
Tequila!
She sucks the lime slice and everyone disperses. Alone,
O'Shea considers the back window as the first drops of rain
pelt against it. The MUSIC builds. This is it.
EXT. BEACH - NIGHT
Lapped by the surf, the detritus of egg spawns litter the
shore as streams of track marks trail inland.
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT - LATER
Rain begins to fall, hard and fast. No turning back now.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
MUSIC belts out of the Jukebox as folks get flutered.
(Something with "rain" in its title.)
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Dr Gleeson guards the back entrance with his nail gun,
watching the rain through a gap in the side door.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Brian tends bar, pouring shots. One for you, one for me.
Mamie from the chapel leans on the counter, pisht.
MAMIE
Two shandies, Brian pet.
Brian knocks up two shandies but spikes both with blinding
double shots of vodka.
BRIAN
How's the heart, Mamie?
MAMIE
Tip top.
BRIAN
(TO HIMSELF)
Thank Christ for that.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 68.
He palms them to her, guilty as sin. She sips one and
coughs, teary eyed. The wind knocked out of her.
MAMIE
Perfect.
She staggers off.
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
Smith sips his vodka coke, watching the back door and
standing by with the walkie talkie.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Paddy sips his pint by the front door while Una dances with
Hilda, Mamie and others.
INT./EXT. PATROL JEEP - NIGHT
O'Shea and Lisa sit on stakeout outside the pub, rain pelting
against the windscreen.
LISA
I dunno, you know?
She doubles up, laughing. O'Shea fights off a smile.
LISA
C'mere. Listen. Listen. At the
end of the day, you know? I dunno.
I'm so into you right now. Joke.
(MUFFLED)
Kinda.
She watches his reaction and stifles a burp.
O'SHEA
How much have you had?
LISA
Not enough to fancy you.
O'SHEA
Then keep drinking.
O'Shea puts the breathalyser in her mouth.
O'SHEA
Blow.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 69.
LISA
That's it, is it? You think I
think I fancy you. That's the
sitchuashun we got, huh?
O'SHEA
(OFF BREATHALYSER)
No more for you.
LISA
Well I do. So whatcha wanna do
'bout it? Arrest me?
She smiles coyly. Or tries to.
O'SHEA
You know as flattering as it is to
hear a beautiful drunk slurring her
feelings for me, now's not the
time.
Lisa scoffs, then something (slightly) sobers her.
LISA
Why do you drink so much, Ciarán?
O'SHEA
For the craic.
LISA
Yeah right, and I work everyday
'cause I'm driven.
Lisa hears herself aloud. The admission sinks her.
LISA
Always chasing them goals, you
know? Always chasing. Always
running.
O'Shea considers her, recognising her vulnerability.
O'SHEA
You're too hard on yourself.
Lisa wells up, the drink making her emotional.
LISA
I feel like I've known you for
years. I don't know why.
O'SHEA
Maybe because I put years onto
people.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 70.
LISA
... Yeah. That's true.
They gaze at each other until O'Shea looks away first. Lisa
hiccups. As ladylike as possible.
LISA
I'm sorry about your wife, O'Shea.
I really am.
O'SHEA
My what?
LISA
Una told me, how she died. I'm so
sorry.
O'SHEA
Una said what? Of all the
stories. Una is the biggest gossip
going. You shouldn't listen to
her. No one died. We just ... we
didn't work out.
LISA
Oh. Ah shite, I'm sorry.
O'SHEA
You're grand.
LISA
... Did you split because ...
because of your alcoholickissness?
O'SHEA
I didn't drink back then. No, she
met someone else. It happens.
O'Shea hides it well but this hurts. Lisa notices.
LISA
Feck her, O'Shea. If you want I'll
find her and do her in for you?
O'Shea smiles. Lisa reciprocates drunkenly.
O'SHEA
A toast. From an alcoholic to a
workaholic.
(raises his coffee)
To getting out of this alive.
A moment shared and then...
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 71.
LISA
Hmm, toast.
O'Shea smiles and grabs the C.B. Radio.
O'SHEA
Patrol to Base. Patrol to Base.
Come in, over.
INT. PUB - NIGHT - INTERCUT
Smith belches under his breath and clutches a walkie-talkie.
Behind him, people are reenacting the 'Siege of Ennis' which
involved dancing jigs and holding hands for some reason.
SMITH
Reading you loud and clear. Over.
O'SHEA (V.O.)
How are we doing?
Smith regards the Islanders enjoying the craic.
SMITH
Ignorance is bliss.
O'SHEA (V.O.)
Great. Keep it up. Over.
Smith moves back into the kitchen.
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT - CONTINUED
Smith goes to finish his vodka coke but it's already empty.
He goes to make another but then notices Paddy's potcheen
bottle sitting idle on the counter. He considers it.
Uncorks it. Sniffs it. Pours himself a drop. Tastes it.
Hmm, likes it. And pours himself a lethal dose of it,
smiling away to himself. Sure God love him, he's fucked.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Brian ticks a chart, tabulating whose had what and how much.
Hilda from the chapel orders.
HILDA
Two pints please, Brian.
Brian ticks a piece of paper and starts pouring her pints.
BRIAN
Both for you?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 72.
HILDA
No. Jesus, what'cha take me for?
BRIAN
Right, right. Are you sure?
HILDA
I am!
BRIAN
Grand, grand. C'mere Hilda, you're
looking well. Did you lose weight?
Hilda lights up, delighted with herself.
HILDA
Aw, really? Well I have been doin'
the walkin'.
BRIAN
Yeah, yeah. How much would you say
you lost? Would I be right in
thinking you're around fourteen
stone?
She stares, gobsmacked.
BRIAN
No? Fifteen? Yeah, I better go
with fifteen to be safe.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Dr Gleeson sways past Paddy as he returns from the back.
PADDY
Ya all right?
DR GLEESON
Ugh, bloated.
PADDY
Ya haven't touched your pint. Ya
gonna finish it?
DR GLEESON
Hold onto it for me.
Dr Gleeson walks off, giving Paddy his nail gun. Paddy waits
a few seconds then siphons a sup off Gleeson's drink.
INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
Outside the MEN'S BATHROOM Dr Gleeson joins a long queue.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 73.
DR GLEESON
C'mon, c'mon. Is some bloke doin'
his makeup or what?
He shuffles on his feet. He can't wait a minute longer.
DR GLEESON
Ah, feck the likes of this.
He abandons the line.
EXT. MAHER'S PUB ALCOVE - NIGHT
Dr Gleeson sneaks out, spots the Patrol Jeep and ducks into
the alcove -- out of sight.
He leans against the wall, peeing. Rain runs down the
corrugated roof. Relief. For now. He zips up, turns and
sees ... JUMPERS. Dozens of them. Dr Gleeson chills.
Limbless bouncing piranhas. They move clumsily, regularly
toppling over as they hop, leap and jump. They're not very
intelligent or agile but they're inquisitive. And starving.
For a moment there's a curious stand-off, and then a Jumper
hops closer startling Dr Gleeson.
DR GLEESON
Whoa, feck off!
Dr Gleeson kicks it like a football and it launches through
the air, SQUEALING. With beaks gaping, spiked tongues
curling, the rest of the Jumpers move in on him.
INT./EXT. PATROL JEEP - NIGHT
O'Shea tosses a peanut into the air to catch in his open
mouth but he misses as he stares, slackjawed at --
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
-- Dr Gleeson staggering blindly in the rain, a Jumper
clamped onto his head, swallowing him down to his nose.
DR GLEESON
Christ Almighty, me head!
O'Shea bounds from the jeep, hurley in hand. Lisa flanks
him, staggering with a golf club.
O'SHEA
Jim, don't move!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 74.
Dr Gleeson stumbles forward as Jumpers maul him and others
circle like fat toddlers around an ice-cream truck. He falls
to his knees before O'Shea and Lisa.
DR GLEESON
Get it off! Get it off!
Lisa stamps the group as if scaring off a load of stray cats.
LISA
Git! G'wan! Shag off!
The Jumpers keep their distance as O'Shea drags the Jumper
off Dr Gleeson's head, like tugging on a wedged welly. He
pulls it off and the Jumpers disperse into the shadows.
O'SHEA
You OK, Jim?
Dr Gleeson catches his breath, gasping, his hair stood up on
his head like a gelled explosion.
DR GLEESON
I had to piss.
Suddenly the silhouette of a tree behind Dr Gleeson comes
alive. They're not branches, they're tentacles. Flashes of
lightning reflect off its slick, oily skin as --
A TORNADO OF BLACK FEELERS SLITHER FORWARD. 25 foot of ugly.
Off Lisa and O'Shea's horrified faces, Dr Gleeson turns to
meet Medusa on a bad hair day.
The Grabber seizes him, lifts him high and dangles him over
its jaws like plucked grapes. Then drops him before he can
scream. Devoured like a banana in a blender.
Dr Gleeson's dead. Or at least incredibly injured. The
Grabber spits a pip: Dr Gleeson's head. It lands at Lisa's
feet. No, he's definitely dead.
LISA
Fuck that.
Lisa bounds for the jeep. The Grabber ROARS! Spittle flying
out of its gaping maw.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
"The Irish Rover" bellows on the JUKEBOX. People clap and
jig. Una swings Fr Potts, linked onto him, until he flies
loose of her and staggers into Paddy's table. Wahey!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 75.
FR POTTS
Jesus Christ, Una.
Everyone's having a ball. The Pogues with The Dubliners
carry outside, accompanying the action as --
INT./EXT. PATROL JEEP - NIGHT - INTERCUT
Lisa climbs behind the wheel and O'Shea hurries to catch up.
LISA
Get in.
She opens the passenger door for him but tears off leaving
him behind. Driving drunk.
O'SHEA
WAIT! Oh Jesus Mary Mother of God.
She slams on the brakes. Skids.
LISA
Shite. Get in.
O'Shea catches up and dives in the backseat.
O'SHEA
Drive! Drive!
Lisa does, but reversing towards the Grabber.
O'SHEA
AHH, THE OTHER WAY! THE OTHER WAY!
They ram into the Grabber, the car jolting violently.
LISA
Shite!
O'SHEA
Let me drive!
LISA
I'm not feeling so good. I need a
drink to calm me nerves.
She reaches for a quick swig but O'Shea bats the bottle away
from her puckered lips.
O'SHEA
Get us out of here!
LISA
I can't drive with you shaking me.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 76.
Lisa crunches gears and the tyres smoke and spin, fighting
against the drag. The Grabber smothers the jeep, its fetid
breath fogging the windscreen. O'Shea SCREAMS! Lisa sobs.
O'SHEA
We're gonna die!
O'Shea grabs at the handbrake, putting them in gear,
desperate to get them moving.
O'SHEA
Put your foot on the clutch!
LISA
I am arresting you for the murder
of Doctor Gleeson. You are not
obliged to say anything unless you
wish to do so, but whatever you say
will be taken down in writing and
may be given in evidence.
BRIAN (V.O.)
Base to Patrol. O'Shea we're
running short here. We're dry on
four taps and out of spirits and
wines. Over.
O'Shea grabs the radio.
O'SHEA
(INTO RADIO)
BRIAN, GET THE DOOR, OPEN THE DOOR!
Lisa switches on the PATROL LIGHTS and PALMS THE HORN.
The Grabber leaps back from the jeep and flares up like a
huntsman spider, hissing.
LISA
Fuck that.
Lisa bounds from the jeep leaving O'Shea staring in shock.
He kicks open his door and scrambles after her as the Grabber
leaps onto the jeep and smashes it. Seconds to spare.
Lisa turns to look.
LISA
It's eating the jeep.
O'Shea runs past, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
O'SHEA
Let it!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 77.
EXT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
Brian opens the side door and stops as he sees the chaos.
BRIAN
Merciful shit.
He turns back and --
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
-- grabs his super soaker off the coat rack.
BRIAN
Smith!
Smith lifts his head up off the kitchen table. His eyes are
furiously blood shot and he looks like he's had a stroke.
SMITH
(DROOLING)
I can't feel my face.
BRIAN
Smith, the lighter!
SMITH
I think I'm drunk, Brian.
BRIAN
Hurry!
Smith rises and stagger-runs to Brian but slams into the wall
instead. He slides onto the floor where he lulls, confused.
SMITH
Your floor is broken.
O'Shea and Lisa barrel in. O'Shea looks for stuff to
barricade the door.
O'SHEA
Grab the table.
Brian belches, also pissed.
BRIAN
Smith! Light me!
Remaining slumped on the floor, Smith sparks a Zippo lighter
and holds it up for Brian to light the gun nozzle. But like
fellas after ten pints trying to stick their key in the front
door they can't synchronize their movements.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 78.
Brian squats, the way only a drunk would, to steady himself.
BRIAN
Nearly. Put the other light away.
... Stall on now. That's it ...
O'SHEA
Brian, forget that help us
barricade the door.
BRIAN
Almost there.
O'Shea and Lisa drag the heavy table into position.
OMITTED
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
Finally Brian sets the wick in the nozzle of the super-soaker
alight, pumps furiously and aims it out the door.
BRIAN
All right you ugly bollocks, have
some of this shit!
He takes squirts and ... nothing happens. Except the gun tip
melts and lights ablaze.
BRIAN
Ahh, Christ!
The Grabber ROARS getting closer.
O'SHEA
That's gonna blow! Get rid of it!
Brian tosses the super-soaker outside and slams the door,
double-bolting it, just in time as Una sways in, drink in
hand, to find O'Shea, Lisa, Smith and Brian in a right state.
UNA
(SLURRED)
What's goin' on?
O'SHEA
Nothing!
BOOM! A bright flash of fire blossoms outside. O'Shea
barricades the door with furniture.
UNA
What was that?
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 79.
BRIAN
What was what?
Brian grabs a glass of wine.
BRIAN
Here, honey, have a drink.
UNA
I have a drink.
BRIAN
Have two.
UNA
I've drunk enough.
O'SHEA
Move back.
THUD! The door rattles.
UNA
(CALLS OUT)
Who is it?
BRIAN
It's nobody, honey.
LISA
Who wants toast?
SMITH
I do.
O'SHEA
Is every one all right?
LISA
Grand.
BLEURGH! Smith vomits against the wall.
UNA
Mother of Jesus!
POP! Lisa's toast arrives. She butters it.
O'SHEA
Is this what I'm like when I'm
drunk?
Lisa stares at him, chewing toast. Eyes swimming.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 80.
LISA
You're worse.
O'Shea hustles every one out of the kitchen.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea pushes through the oblivious patrons towards the bar.
Brian flicks the taps. They hiss and sputter.
BRIAN
(TO O'SHEA)
We're dry.
PADDY
We're what?!
BRIAN
Unless someone goes outside to
change the kegs, we're done
drinking for the night.
Paddy's devastated.
PADDY
No! NO!
He thumps the counter.
PADDY
I was just gettin' a taste for it.
The gang talk over the din. The Islanders still blissfully
unaware of what's happening.
For a moment O'Shea's lost in his own world as he notices
he's absentmindedly clutching a pint from the counter. He
considers it, then pushes it away, grabs a chair and rises.
O'SHEA
Folks, listen carefully. We're
moving this party upstairs.
FR POTTS
Ah now, what kind of party is this?
O'SHEA
It's just a precaution.
UNA
A precaution to what?
O'Shea thinks. Mamie rises with her coat.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 81.
MAMIE
(SLURRED)
I'm goin' home. I'm pisht.
She sits back down again, losing her balance.
O'SHEA
You can't. No one can.
FR POTTS
Why?
LISA
It's raining.
People look, huh?
FISHERMAN
Someone better tell us what's
really going on here? Right now!
OMITTED
OMITTED
OMITTED
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Panic and confusion spreads through the crowd.
UNA
This party isn't for me, is it,
Brian?! You lied to me!
BRIAN
(TO PADDY)
You see you! This is your fault.
You brought that thing on the
island.
UNA
What thing?
Smith hangs onto the pub wall, edging towards the front door
as everyone's attention is focused on the commotion inside.
SMITH
(MUMBLING)
Are these my sausages?!
(PUKES)
Kill me.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 82.
PADDY
(TO BRIAN)
Ah relax. You'll give yourself
angina.
BRIAN
I'll give ya angina. Outside, now!
I claim ya!
O'SHEA
No! You can't go outside!
LISA
(to Fr Potts et al)
Because of the rain.
Lisa winks sleepily at the huddled masses as O'Shea gets
between Brian and Paddy, separating them.
BRIAN
(TO PADDY)
C'mon then, put 'em up.
PADDY
Right you are! I'm sick of your
bollocks.
Brian rolls up his sleeves. Paddy takes out his teeth.
O'SHEA
Paddy! Brian! Cop on, I'm asking
ya! Now's not the time for this.
Paddy and Brian drunkenly box (by missing every punch, and
falling over a lot). Una repeatedly punches Brian's arm.
UNA
(PUNCHING HIM)
Stop fightin! Stop fightin!
Fr Potts holds onto the huddled and terrified Islanders.
Lisa looks them all in the eyes, swaying and smiling.
LISA
Don't worry, we have it all under
control. There's nothing trying to
kill you.
Smith opens the front door, letting a chilling breeze into
the pub. Everyone turns to see.
SMITH
We need more alcohol.
(DRY HEAVES)
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 83.
Smith staggers out the open door.
MAMIE
Thanks be to Jesus, let me out of
here!
O'SHEA
No!
O'Shea runs to the door holding people back from trying to
follow. Folks jostle to see out windows and over shoulders.
O'SHEA
Get back! Smith, what are you
doing? Smith!
INT./EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Smith staggers out into the rain.
SMITH
It's raining again.
O'Shea, Lisa and Paddy hang at the door, watching.
O'SHEA
Smith, listen to me. It's bigger
than you think. Get back inside
now! Please, I'm begging you.
SMITH
I need a picture with it. For
National Geographic. And Facebook.
PADDY
Feck your photos, change the kegs!
(OFF O'SHEA)
What? He's flutered, sure he'll be
fine. G'wan, Smith! Fine fella
y'are!
A GROWL in the darkness. A hint of movement in the blackest
shadows. O'Shea pales. Smith raises his digital camera.
O'SHEA
Smith, mate! Listen to me!
FLASH! He snaps a photo and The Grabber lights up for a
split second, ten feet from Smith.
SMITH
Shush, you'll scare it.
INTERCUT SMITH with THE PUB.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 84.
UNA
Oh my God!
FR POTTS
What the fuck was that?
PADDY
A Grabber.
FLASH! Eight feet away from Smith. And moving slowly.
FLASH! Five feet.
FLASH! Two.
FLASH! The Grabber breaths on Smith, the air misting as its
black lips unfurl back, revealing its pink bladed throat.
SMITH
Steady. You don't want to eat me.
I'm ripped to the tits!
Tentacles molest Smith, writhing all over him, mussing his
hair. Licking and tasting his sweat.
SMITH
Sticky.
The Grabber recoils, having tasted his sweat. Yuck!
SMITH
(turns to others, grins)
See! I told you. It's just an
animal, it doesn't want to hur--
-- OOF! The Grabber flicks Smith out its way like a peanut,
sending him shooting off into the night sky.
Folks SCREAM and whimper. Complete shock.
PADDY
He flew?!
The Grabber charges straight for them. O'Shea slams the door
and turns, back flush against it --
O'SHEA
Everyone, upstairs! Now!
The pub door collapses and JUMPERS flood in, breaching the
fort. No doubt about it now, they're on a sinking ship.
A stampede for the stairs.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 85.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Islanders clamber into the corridor, petrified.
INT. STAIRWAY - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS (SAME LOCATION)
O'Shea pulls a cabinet over, leaving obstacles in his wake.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea and some others push furniture down the stairs,
blocking access with a fortified wall of rubble.
The upstairs hallway is jammed as Brian opens a door into an
OLD DISUSED UPSTAIRS PUB, allowing people to filter in. The
ruckus below sounding like a bar brawl.
O'SHEA
Everyone, stay calm. They can't
get up here.
FR POTTS
And what in the name of fuck were
those things?
PADDY
Jumpers.
FR POTTS
Ha?
PADDY
They jump.
THUD! CRASH! BANG! Islanders whimper. O'Shea moves
through the hallway, through the crowd.
O'SHEA
Has anyone been bitten?
(no one has)
You haven't been bitten because of
the alcohol you've been drinking.
They're allergic to drunk people.
So there's no need to panic, we're
safe up here. Has anyone got a
mobile on them?
Everyone takes out a phone, some take out two.
O'SHEA
Call the mainland. Call the
Coastguard. Call whoever you can
get through to.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 86.
They start dialling.
MAMIE
Father, is it the apocalypse?
FR POTTS
Jesus, I hope not.
O'Shea catches his breath, hunched against the corner. He
looks up to Una, Brian, Lisa and Paddy watching him. He
forces the best smile he can muster.
O'SHEA
We'll be fine!
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
The Grabber retreats into the darkness.
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT - LATER
Brian opens the door to a supply closet. O'Shea and Lisa
flank him. The closet's full of innocuous cleaning products,
blankets, etc.
BRIAN
It's just linen and cleaning stuff.
Nothing we can really use.
FISHERMAN
Why can't ya just shoot it? Ye
guys must have some guns.
Brian closes the closet.
O'SHEA
We're the Gardai. Not the LAPD.
(off their faces)
An Garda Siochana will succeed not
by force of arms or numbers, but on
their moral authority as servants
of the people.
Lisa gasps. She grins at him with drunken pride. O'Shea
almost blushes.
FISHERMAN
We're bolloxed.
BRIAN
Yep.
Brian shuts the door.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 87.
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT
O'Shea watches the windows.
O'SHEA
Something's not right. It can't be
that hungry.
Eavesdropping, Paddy chimes in.
PADDY
It's the female. It's following
her scent. Sure didn't she slime
you in the lab? Like with me
bathroom and Tadhg Murphy.
O'SHEA
Tadhg Murphy's dead!
Some hallway people whimper, overhearing O'Shea.
O'SHEA
No, no, Tadhg Murphy's fine. He's
at the festival on the mainland.
LISA
And so's his wife.
The Islanders gasp. Irene's dead too?! Ah fuck.
OMITTED
OMITTED
OMITTED
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
THUD! A dead sheep slams the door (as Cooney did).
INT. LISA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Brian peeks out the bedroom window. Brian rounds the corner,
back towards O'Shea et al ...
BRIAN
It's swinging one of Tommy
Riordan's sheep at the door.
Paddy, Lisa, Una and O'Shea look. THUD! THUD!
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 88.
LISA
My cat does that, then leaves it on
the doorstep as a present.
PADDY
A mating ritual.
THUD! CRASH! BANG!
O'SHEA
What the hell does that mean?
PADDY
It'll try to mount you, somehow.
Failing that it'll most likely rip
you limb from limb in frustration.
O'SHEA
Grand. Ah sure what can ya do.
LISA
Play hard to get.
THUD! The Grabber ROARS and slithers off into the shadows.
HILDA
Oh, God. What does it want?
O'Shea looks at the scared Islanders. He's what it wants.
The sound of WINDOWS SHATTERING. Islander's whimper.
UNA
It's not gonna stop, is it? We
won't survive the night. We're on
a sinking ship.
Brian breathalyses himself sorrowfully.
O'SHEA
What's your reading?
BRIAN
Too drunk to drive a car but not
drunk enough. We're sobering up.
All of us.
O'Shea nods tensely.
Brian consoles Una as another loud THUD shakes the floor and
the ceiling light shade above them.
UNA
We can't just sit here. It'll
bring the walls down around us.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 89.
PADDY
What if we threw a bomb at it?
BRIAN
Have you got semtex on you?
PADDY
Not on me, no.
BRIAN
How about we like push it off a
cliff or something.
UNA
Or electrocute it? I don't know.
PADDY
I vote we feed it Father Potts.
Unless it eats shit it'll choke to
death.
FR POTTS
I beg your pardon.
Fr Potts perks up from the darker corner.
PADDY
Feck, is he in here? I was joking,
Father. I apologise.
Fr Potts disregards him.
UNA
If we can't destroy it, what can we
do?
O'SHEA
(to Fr Potts)
What about the phones?
Fr Potts shakes his head. Nothing.
O'SHEA
OK, we know it does two things: it
drinks blood and it breathes water.
We took away one, we could take
away the other.
UNA
What do you mean?
O'SHEA
We need to keep it away from water.
Dry it out somehow.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 90.
PADDY
(re. the rain)
Look outside.
O'SHEA
There's got to be some way we can
stop it, fight fire with fire.
Lisa notices her police boots from the day before, seeing the
chalky stains all along them. An idea!
LISA
The Grabber! Not the Grabber-
Grabber, the mechanical one!
(off their confusion)
The big yoke, with the arm and the
thing and you know? That big aul
whatchamacallit you crush things
with. The feckin' thing at
Cooney's site! What's it called?
PADDY
A Grabber?
LISA
Exactly! With that thing you could
grab it, hoist it up and trap it.
It's raining now but it has to stop
some time right? And when it does
it'd be stuck. Once the sun comes
up it'd cook. That'd dry it out.
O'Shea's eyes brighten, he smiles at Lisa. She smiles back,
properly proud of herself.
PADDY
You think you can catch that thing?
UNA
Sure 'tis lepping about all over
the shop.
BRIAN
You'd need some sort of...?
O'Shea clenches the leprechaun key-ring in his fist.
O'SHEA
-- A death trap.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 91.
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea moves to a window to clock a white PICKUP TRUCK parked
outside in the rain. His purposeful stride instilling
confidence in the others. O'Shea's back in charge.
O'SHEA
(TO BRIAN)
Have you got the keys to your
truck?
Brian checks his pockets.
BRIAN
They'd be in the kitchen. On the
table, I think.
O'SHEA
I need them.
UNA
You can't go downstairs, those
things will tear you to pieces.
BRIAN
She's right.
PADDY
You might not get past them, but
someone else could.
FR POTTS
You'd be talking about the drunkest
person we got.
All eyes fall on Lisa as she licks her dry mouth. Off their
LOOKS --
O'SHEA
Absolutely not, it's too risky.
Paddy you go.
PADDY
What? Feck off! Brian should go.
Brian considers it. Una's having none of it.
BRIAN
I could try...
UNA
Not a hope.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 92.
LISA
(rises, swaying)
Slow down there. I'll do it.
O'SHEA
No. It's too dangerous.
LISA
Which is exactly why you'll want
the best drunken guard this
country's ever seen. Right?
Lisa looks at him, holding his stare. O'Shea smiles.
INT. TOP OF STAIRS - NIGHT - LATER
The gang rally around Lisa at the stairway blockade. O'Shea
hands her the nail-gun.
O'SHEA
If you get in trouble. Pull the
trigger.
She takes it in her hands, drunkenly marveling.
LISA
Oooh, savage.
She pulls the trigger and a nail stabs the wall inches from
Paddy's head.
O'SHEA
Careful.
BRIAN
You missed.
Paddy throws Brian a withering look.
O'SHEA
Just get the keys and come right
back. I'll do the rest.
Fr Potts blesses her.
LISA
Got it. Just the keys.
They pull away debris, allowing a gap. Lisa and O'Shea's
gaze holds a second longer than necessary. Lisa smiles.
LISA
I'll be all right.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 93.
INT. STAIRWAY - NIGHT - INTERCUT
Lisa scrambles through. Una steals a glimpse downstairs.
UNA
Look what they've done to the
carpets!
Brian consoles Una as O'Shea and Paddy seal the gap.
Suddenly Lisa TRIPS and slips down some stairs. Waking the
dead. O'Shea, Brian, Una and Paddy gasp, listening.
Lisa picks herself up.
LISA
IT'S OK! I'M ALL RIGHT!
O'SHEA
Shush!! Keep your voice down!
PADDY
She's a goner.
O'Shea looks at Paddy, then at Brian.
BRIAN
How are you gonna get to the truck?
O'SHEA
Run very fast.
UNA
Love, you're not that fast.
FR POTTS
You'll need a decoy.
PADDY
I got it. If its you it wants,
then we give it what it wants. We
fashion a dummy, dress it up like
bait and confuse the shite out of
it. It won't know where to look
when there's two of you.
FR POTTS
And how the hell do we make a
dummy?
O'Shea looks at Paddy, he likes that idea.
O'SHEA
Improvise.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 94.
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
Jumpers mill about, tearing the place asunder. One studies
itself in a mirror, until it can't stand itself any more. It
attacks the mirror and knocks itself out.
Another chokes while trying to eat a pool ball. Lisa rounds
a corner, slumping lazily against the wall.
LISA
Focus.
She takes a deep breath and moves in amongst them. She
sidesteps over one and dips her hand into a peanut bowl.
She palms them into her mouth, chews and scans the room.
A Jumper leaps onto the counter beside her. POP! It
collapses back. Another Jumper climbs onto her foot.
LISA
Get off.
She kicks her leg and the Jumper flies off and smacks into
the JUKEBOX, turning it on. Mundy's "Galway Girl" blasts.
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT
Brian, Una, Fr Potts, O'Shea and Paddy grab supplies. A mop,
a broom, a coat rack, marigold gloves, twine. The MUSIC
BLEEDS UPSTAIRS:
UNA
I love that song.
PADDY
What is she doing at all?
They begin assembling something as O'Shea masks his concern:
O'SHEA
Hurry.
OMITTED
OMITTED
INT. PUB KITCHEN - NIGHT
Lisa searches for the keys. She scans the floor, finding the
full bottle of potcheen Smith drank.
She tucks it in her jacket pocket and continues searching as
behind her the back door slowly opens; its lock broken.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 95.
Tentacles reach inside, snaking silently towards her as she
finds Smith's Zippo lighter and holds onto it.
She spots the keys under a stove and reaches, straining. Her
face flush with the floor as the tentacles close in. Suddenly
a stray tentacle knocks a dangling skillet --
-- CLANG! Lisa spins and fires the nail gun as tentacles
rush towards her.
A hail of nails stab the wall and BLOW OUT the wall mounted
fuse box -- BANG!
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT
Sudden DARKNESS is met with SCREAMS!
MAHER'S PUB
Lisa dives into the main bar and flips the Zippo lighter as
the Grabber seizes her leg.
The lighter falls beyond reach and takes fuel off the coat
rack. Flames crawl high upon the jackets and coats.
LISA
UH FIRE! FIRE!
The Grabber drags Lisa across the pub floor.
INT./EXT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Paddy, Brian and O'Shea slot the mop into the coat rack and
slide a broom through the horizontal gap, its clear now
they're building a scarecrow. O'Shea puts his jacket over
it, dressing it. Una sniffs the air in the hall.
UNA
Do you smell smoke?
INT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Lisa grabs hold of the bar counter foot rail, but she's
quickly pulled from it and slides into the
PUB KITCHEN
towards the gaping jaws that fill the backyard door frame.
She grabs broken bottles off the floor and stabs at the
tentacle, glassing them. She grabs Dr Gleeson's board with a
nail in it and slams it home. It uncoils around her feet.
Free, she runs for the pub front door.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 96.
INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY WINDOW - NIGHT
O'Shea frantically pulls apart the blockade as smoke funnels
up towards them. People panic.
FR POTTS
We're going up in flames!
O'SHEA
Where is she?
BRIAN
You gotta go now.
O'SHEA
I need those keys.
BRIAN
We can't wait, son.
O'Shea opens the hallway window and climbs out. He nods
towards Brian awaiting his cue: do it.
INT. DISUSED PUB - NIGHT
Brian flings the window open towards the rain.
PADDY
Yoohoo! Come and get me, you
rotten bastard!
Paddy, Fr Potts, Brian and Una pick up O'Shea's scarecrow
decoy and chuck it out the window into the back yard. Brian
shuts the window and SPLAT-BANG!
Everyone jumps back! Startled as --
-- the Grabbers's mouth fills the window, kissing glass. It
crawls upwards, smudging the window. Folks stare, horrified.
Brian looks back at O'Shea's open window. He runs to it.
EXT. MAHER'S PUB - NIGHT
O'Shea drops onto the back wall and shimmies along it.
BRIAN
Run, O'Shea, run!
O'Shea looks back at Brian and sees pitching itself over the
roof of the pub -- the GRABBER. It cascades towards him like
a sticky spaghetti slinky, tentacles tumbling.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 97.
Suddenly skidding around the corner, spewing up mud, comes
Lisa in Brian's old pickup. She parks right below O'Shea.
O'SHEA
Lisa?
LISA
Would ya come on for fuck sake!
O'Shea's never been so pleased to see her behind the wheel.
INT./EXT. PICKUP - NIGHT
THUMP! O'Shea jumps in the pickup.
O'SHEA
GO!
LISA
I'm breaking so many laws.
Drinking on duty. Driving under
the influence. Speeding. Driving
without lights on.
O'SHEA
PUT YOUR LIGHTS ON!
LISA
(SHE DOES)
Ah that's better.
They tear off, leaving the Grabber behind. ROARING!
INT. UPSTAIRS WINDOW - NIGHT
Brian, Paddy and Una watch from the window.
PADDY
Good luck, boy.
Brian hands Paddy an axe. (Burying the hatchet.)
BRIAN
Let's bury the hatchet, Paddy...
into the heads of those feckin'
things!
PADDY
Jumpers.
UNA
Come on!
Paddy takes the axe and the trio turn to go to work.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 98.
EXT. MOUNTAIN ROAD - NIGHT
Brian's pickup races along, splashing through a puddle and
leaving an empty road in its wake, that is until the Grabber
appears over the hill, ripping along and gaining on them.
EXT. DERELICT SITE - NIGHT
Rain dribbles down the "KEEP OUT" sign as the pickup smacks
into it, knocking it down. Lisa and O'Shea bail out and
regard the empty site. Lisa runs towards the trucks as --
-- O'Shea makes a beeline for the site's gennie. He starts
it up and light fills the site from big work lamps dotted
about.
O'SHEA
It's following me, so you get the
crusher and I'll lure it into
position.
Lisa backs into O'Shea, dread painted on her face.
LISA
It's gone.
O'SHEA
What is?
LISA
The crusher, the JCB. It's gone.
It's not here anymore.
On that -- A ROAR! They turn and see the Grabber staring at
them from across camp. It stalks forward like a cat
approaching its prey. O'Shea and Lisa back up, keeping their
distance. No sudden movements.
LISA
Ciarán.
O'SHEA
I know.
LISA
What are we gonna do now?
O'SHEA
Fuck knows.
O'Shea takes out and checks the flare gun. Two cartridges.
He looks around him, looking for ideas. He sees something --
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 99.
O'SHEA
I've got an idea.
Lisa clocks something, too. On the other side of them.
LISA
I've got an idea too.
O'SHEA
What's your idea?
LISA
Why, what are you thinking?
O'SHEA
I'M THINKING--
The Grabber lurches forward sounding the starter pistol and
storms towards them.
LISA
(at the Grabber)
Wait! We're not ready!
O'SHEA
Run!
LISA
Give me the keys!
O'Shea tosses Cooney's leprechaun key-chain at Lisa. She
reaches to catch it but it sails past her drunken hands.
LISA
Got 'em. Shit!
Lisa staggers after the keys and snatches them off the
footprints she left in the cement, now dry and rock hard.
LISA
Got 'em!
O'Shea runs the incline of the ramp, gunning for the pit.
INT./EXT. BULLDOZER - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Lisa slams into the bulldozer and stabs Cooney's keys into
the driver's door but they won't open. They're --
LISA
-- the wrong keys. It won't open.
(SPOTS SOMETHING)
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 100.
She grabs a 2x4 off the ground and smashes the cabin's
window. She climbs inside, grabs a screwdriver off a toolbox
and sets to work jacking the ignition.
LISA
... Breaking and entering. Jacking
a stolen vehicle ...
INT. DERELICT SITE - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea finds the pit as the Grabber follows him, ROARING. He
darts across the metal ladder laid over the pit like a
rickety bridge. The concrete hole waiting to swallow him up.
The Grabber edges towards the pit, snarling. It reaches the
edge and stalls, feeling its surroundings.
O'Shea is almost at the other side of the ladder when the
Grabber snatches hold of it and yanks it away from under him.
O'Shea just makes the safety of the rim giving him a foothold
with a twenty foot drop onto shards of broken barrels and
iron girders beyond that. If he slips he's dead.
The Grabber considers him, edging no further. O'Shea sees
the oil tanks, he aims the flare gun at the drums. Finger on
the trigger, ready and waiting.
O'SHEA
Come on, you langer. Just a little
closer. Move. Hey, you want me,
you're going have to come across
and get --
-- WHIPAH! The Grabber's barbed tongue shoots across the pit
and lances the air around him. O'Shea's well within reach.
O'SHEA
Awwwwww bollocks.
WHIPAH! O'Shea jumps left. WHIPAH! He jumps right. Inches
to spare each time as O'Shea tries to take aim while ducking.
He fires and the flare misses the oil drum. It strikes an
exposed girder and lands in the pit, glowing and smouldering.
He ducks the tongue and reloads, balanced precariously.
INT./EXT. BULLDOZER - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Lisa jacks the screwdriver into the ignition and turns. The
ENGINE rumbles to life along with the radio. She moves to
put on her seat-belt but stops herself. Feck it.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 101.
She flips the lights on, full beam. Releases the hand-brake.
Steels herself and slams the foot down, switching gears. All
the while absentmindedly mumbling along to the radio.
Treads spin, spitting mud. Here she comes...
INT. PIT - NIGHT
WHIPAH! The tongue lashes out and O'Shea ducks it.
O'SHEA
Enough! Piss off!
WHIPAH! The tongue strikes again but this one lances
O'Shea's shoulder and spins him like a top! O'Shea smacks
off the pit's floor, just missing an iron girder. Ouch!
He lands hard on his shoulder, struck with utter agony.
Tentacles surround, curling towards him. He grabs his strewn
flare gun and buries himself in the corner of the pit, rain
and mud dribbling down upon him.
He reloads and takes aim at the oil drums. This final shot
will certainly kill him. Yet he's willing to do it.
He grips the trigger, summoning all he has ... AS THE SOUND
OF AN ENGINE DRAWS CLOSE. Headlights shine over the pit --
INT./EXT. BULLDOZER / RAMP - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
-- Lisa slams her foot down, gunning it. Eyes burning.
LISA
Get away from him, you --!
The Grabber turns, seeing Lisa a second too late as she slams
into it with a SLOPPY-THUD! The Grabber ROARS, obscuring her
last word. She waits for it to stop squealing and ...
LISA
Cunt. (Alternative: langer.)
EXT. PIT - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
The Grabber crashes into the pit as the bulldozer pivots and
pins it; its scoop slamming down and severing the Grabber's
extended tongue.
O'Shea rises, back to the pit wall, inches from the carnage.
He stuffs the flare gun in his belt and climbs the
bulldozer's treads towards level ground.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 102.
Tentacles whip and flail around him as Lisa clambers from the
cabin and grabs his hand.
LISA
I got you.
She helps him climb out and they catch their breath. Elated.
O'SHEA
You took your sweet time.
Lisa reveals Paddy's potcheen bottle.
LISA
I think this calls for a
celebration.
O'Shea laughs but then his face drops. He looks down to see
a tentacle wrap around his waist.
LISA
O'Shea!
It pulls him off his feet as he grabs Lisa's bottle.
Pulled towards the Grabber's snapping maw, it draws him in,
jaws snarling. Almost grinning. It's going to enjoy this.
But at the last moment O'Shea pops the cork and chucks the
bottle into its mouth.
O'SHEA
Sláinte.
The Grabber chokes and spasms. A monstrous wail and --
-- O'Shea is flung into the air.
EXT. DERELICT SITE RAMP - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
O'Shea lands. He spits up dirt as Lisa runs to him.
O'SHEA
He couldn't handle his drink.
She leans in close as if to kiss him. O'Shea puckers up.
But Lisa grabs the flare gun from his belt and runs back to
the precipice of the pit.
O'SHEA
... What are you...?
She aims it at the oil drums. The ROAR of the Grabber.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 103.
LISA
Oh shut your hole.
She fires!
KABOOOOOM!
The shockwave hurtles Lisa onto her arse beside O'Shea. Both
laid out in the mud. Grabber gunk and rain pelts them.
O'SHEA
Jesus, you're dangerous.
LISA
(THRILLED)
I know!
They laugh.
EXT. GRASSY HILL OVERLOOKING BEACH - DAWN
No longer raining, O'Shea and Lisa look absolutely filthy as
they come walking over the hillside. She hiccups demurely.
LISA
You look like crap.
O'SHEA
So do you.
They shuffle on together. Battle-scarred. Limping. Side-by-
side. Lisa takes O'Shea's flask from her pocket.
LISA
Here.
She hands it to him. O'Shea remembers it for a brief moment,
then lets it fall away. Lisa smiles. Proud of him.
They stagger on, the beautiful sea panorama before them.
Casually they fill the pauses, at ease with the world.
LISA
I think I'll take some time-off.
O'SHEA
You know if you lived here you'd be
home already.
Lisa absorbs the vista before her.
LISA
Home of the Erin Island Grabbers.
It's gonna get mental round here.
GRABBERS - Production Draft (GOLD) 28/1/2011 104.
O'SHEA
I'll need all the help I can get.
O'Shea puts his arm around her, and they seem right together.
LISA
You want to get some breakfast?
O'SHEA
Yeah.
LISA
First, lets get out of these wet
clothes.
O'SHEA
Sounds good.
They laugh, and stumble on arm-in-arm into the sunrise.
EXT. SHORE - DAWN
In the ripples of sand, a different pattern is obvious, some
unusual tracks lead to water... Jumpers. They made it.
FADE OUT.
THE END
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