The Ending to My Script for Pale Fire

Okay so i started with the ending, and i figure its the first thing i feel is worthy of reading i'll post it. Please give me information on your feelings of it. The formatting is weird but it should be readable. Dialogue is italicized

EXT. NEW WYE SUBURB - NIGHT
KINBOTE
(v.o.)
Somewhere horseshoes are being tossed. Click. Clunk. Leaning against its lamppost like a drunk. A dark vanessa with a crimson band wheels in the low sun settles on the sand and shows its ink-blue wingtips flecked with white. And through the flowing shade and ebbing light a man unheedful of the butterfly- some neighbors gardener, i guess-goes by trundling an empty barrow. I am the shadow of the waxwing slain.

Charles Kinbote, middle-aged, bearded, large in every sense of the word, crouches comically, and in a way shamefully, behind some bushes and trees looking at a large new-england style home.

We see a veranda or porch, to the left of the door, under a light sits John Shade, 60’s, ugly, bent, with white hair, and aged features, content. A small TABLE is on his left, his left elbow rest on it, his temple resting on his fist. On the table sits a pregnant ENVELOPE.

KINBOTE sees that SHADE is not working, but resting, and absconds from his hiding place, walks through the trees and up to Shade on the porch.

Closer now we see that SHADE is EMOTIONALLY DRAINED, his eyes are MISTY. SHADE notices KINBOTE and raises a hand in greeting but does not change his glance.

KINBOTE, less boisterously than usual, breaks the silence.

KINBOTE (CONT’D)
Well, has the muse been kind to you?

SHADE
Very kind! Exceptionally kind and gentle. In face, I have here.

Shade pats the ENVELOPE

SHADE (CONT’D)
Practically the entire product. A few trifles to settle and I’ve swung it, by God.

The ENVELOPE is full to bursting with note cards covered with small, very fine, very romantic print.

KINBOTE
(pensively)
Where is the missus?

SHADE
Help me, Charlie, to get out of here, foot gone to sleep. Sybil is at dinner meeting of her club.

KINBOTE
(nervous, excitement)
A suggestion, I have at my place half a gallon of Tokay. I’m ready to share my favorite wine with my favorite poet. We shall have for dinner a knackle of walnuts, a couple of large tomatoes, and a bunch of bananas. And if you agree to show me your finished product, there will be another treat; I promise to divulge to you why I gave you , or rather, who gave you, your theme.

Shade stands with the help of Kinbote’s arm

SHADE
(absently)
What theme?

KINBOTE
Our blue inenubilable Zembla, and the red-capped Steinmann, and the motorboat I the sea cave and-

SHADE
Ah, I think I guessed your secret quite some time ago. But all the same I shall sample your wine with pleasure. Okay, I can manage by myself now.”

Kinbote reluctantly releases Shade from his “helpful” arm, takes the heavy envelope from Shade, and the two head towards KINBOTE’S HOUSE. They walk across Shade’s lawn and onto the street. Horseshoes can be heard being played in the neighborhood. As they walk Kinbote clutches the envelope excited, no, elated by the packet of note-cards he holds in his hands. Shade walks slowly next to him, towards his secret shame.

A Vanessa Atalanta, a black butterfly with a red stripe, flutters around Shade for a while as the go through some bushes out front of Kinbote’s House. It finally lands on SHADES SLEEVE
They get through the bushes and to Kinbote’s House. We see on the porch a short thickset dark haired man in a shabby brown suit holding an equally shabby brown briefcase. Standing in front of the door. Shade takes notice first.

SHADE (CONT’D)
You have a caller.

Kinbote looks up and sees THE MAN.

KINBOTE
(muttering)
I will kill him.

Kinbote walks past shade up towards the house, and the man

KINBOTE (CONT’D)
Oh I will kill him.

The man turns and sees Kinbote and Shade and pulls a small handgun from his coat.
Life slows as the man fires a shot, it tears a button from Kinbote’s jacket sleeve, and a second sings past his ear.

Kinbote raises his arms and bellows in an attempt to keep the assailant from hitting Shade. He still clutches the ENVELOPE

A third shot passes Kinbote and strikes Shade in the heart.

Shade falls to the ground and the GRADUS, formally the man, comes into view prepared to fire another shot.

A SPADE flies from the bushes and collides with GRADUS’ face, he falls and from the bushes steps the GARDENER.

Kinbote checks himself thoroughly then checks the envelope, finding nothing is seriously damaged.

KINBOTE (CONT’D)
(voiceover)
The assasin had missed me, I was fine, as was my poets masterpeice.

Shade lays on the ground bleeding, Kinbote goes inside and hides the ENVELOPE in the hall CLOSET
.
KINBOTE (CONT’D)
(v.o.)
Thanks to the wonderful gardener the story of my Zembla would be told. Sadly Gradus in failing to kill the king, had destroyed my poet.

FADE TO:
INT. CABIN - NIGHT

Kinbote still sits at his small desk in the same dark, cramped cabin. He is transcibing the final words of the commentary for PALE FIRE.

KINBOTE
(v.o.)
As I finish this work, my finest work, I know that i am not safe, I must continue hiding and moving, maybe next i will turn up on another campus as a healthy, happy, heterosexual Russian writer sans fame. But whatever happens, wherever the scee is laid, somebody, somewhere, will quetly set out- somebody has already set out, somebody still rather far has landed, is walking toward a million photographers, and presently he wil ring at my door- a bigger, more respectable, more competent Gradus.

We pull back out of the cabin as Kinbote sets down his pen, slowly looks up through a window, a faint smile on his face, but his body tells us he is truly and utterly sad and alone.
FADE TO BLACK.