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Storyboard Text

  • Exposition
  • "No your wrong dear
  • Im not drinking this, I'm putting something in here.
  • ARE YOU SEOURSLY DRINKING AT 10;00AM
  • Conflict
  • “Whoever broke into my closet last winter and stole my liquor will probably try it again once we are out of here,”
  • Rising action
  • Shoot, I forgot my boots outside!
  • A man smiled grimly as he turned from the bathroom cabinet, entered the primitive living room of his mountain camp, and crossed to a closet set in the pine wall. It was his special closet with a spring lock, and in it, he kept guns, ammunition, fishing rods and liquor. Not even his wife was allowed to have a key, for Judson Webb loved his personal possessions and became furious if they were touched by any hand but his own.
  • Climax
  • “Only this time he’ll wish he hadn’t.” She caught her breath at this cruel vindictiveness as one by one he dropped the tablets into the bottle and held it up to watch them dissolve.“What are they?” she asked, “something to make him sick?”“And how!” He seemed fascinated as he saw the Bourbon changing into a deadly drink.“At least no one has found an antidote: once it’s down, it’s the end.” He corked the bottle and set it back on the shelf alongside the little whisky glass.“Everything nice and handy,” he remarked, “now, Mr. Thief, when you break in, have a good drink; I won’t begrudge you this one.” The woman’s face was pale. “Don’t do it, Judson,” she gasped, “it’s horrible – it’murder.”
  • Falling action
  • He started to close the closet door, and then paused as he remembered his hunting boots outside on the porch. They belonged in the closet. So, leaving the door open, he went to fetch them from the heavy, rustic table on which they stood, along with his bag and top coat.
  • Here drink this.
  • Alec was coming up from the lake and waved to him from a distance. A chipmunk, hearing Judson’s heavy tread, left the acorn it was about to add to its store within the cabin wall and disappeared. When reaching for his boots, Judson stepped upon that acorn. His foot slid from under him and his head struck the massive table as he fell.
  • Several minutes later, he began to regain his senses. Alec’s strong arm was supporting his head as he lay on the porch,
  • a kindly voice was saying, “It wasn’t much ofa fall, Mr. Webb. You aren’t cut none; just knocked out for a minute. Here, take this. It’llpull you together.”A small whiskey glass was pressed to Judson’s lips. Dazed and half-conscious hedrank.
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