THE BATES MOTEL CHARACTER GUIDE

THE BATES MOTEL VAULT

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[The green shadowy figure jumps off the Seafort into the Sea and 
 disappears. Alden gets into his boat and speeds off]

Marcus: Where's he going?

[A mist begins to form around Marcus's boat]

Marcus: What the hell....?

[The camera pulls out as Marcus and his boat disappear into the mist]

[Theme tune plays and fades out]

Marcus: I must get after him to see where he's off to..but..hang on,
        where's all this mist coming from, it was a lovely clear
        bright day. Never mind, I know which direction he was heading,
        I'll just follow the sound.

[Moves to the back of the boat, tries to start the engine]

Marcus: Bloody thing, what the hells' going on here.

[Fiddles with the engine]

Marcus: There should be plenty of fuel in this thing.

[Behind Marcus, a green hand grabs the side of the boat and
 starts to climb up, Marcus is still trying to start the engine,
 suddenly something alerts him to a movement behind him, a Sea
 Devil ?, is advancing on him]

Marcus: Nooooo, HELP !

[Sea Devil ?, chops him at the side of the neck, knocking him out cold]

[Back at the Bates Motel, Dave and Chuck are talking in the bar (which is closed)]

Chuck: Look, it's simple. You lure Father Rob in here.
Dave: How?
Chuck: For keepers sake, we're sat in the bar! All you need to do is sheperd him
       in this direction.
Dave: What's the plan after that?
Chuck: Well, we'll train him to say a few simple phrases.
Dave: Like what? When those bishops visit he's going to have to impress.
      He's got to be able to impress at his sermon on Sunday.
Chuck: Well, how about "Yes" and "That would be a canon issue"
Dave: That would be a what matter?
Chuck: Canon. I can't think of any questions that cannot be answered by
       those two phrases.

[In the distance Father Rob can be heard shouting]

Father Rob: DRINK!

[Dave runs off to get Father Rob. Dave shouts out in the direction of Father Rob]

Dave: Drink over here!
Father Rob [getting louder and closer]: DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!

[Father Rob enters and sits down at his chair]

Father Rob: DRINK!
Chuck: Look, you can't keep on saying that during your sermon on Sunday. What will
       the Bishops think!
Father Rob: CANON!
Chuck: No you can't say that either.
Father Rob: GIRLS!
Chuck: No. Look, just repeat after me.... THAT.
Father Rob: DRINK!
Chuck: No, try again... THAT.
Father Rob: DRINK!
Chuck: You're not trying hard enough. If you try there might be a drink in
       it for you.
Father Rob: DRINK?
Chuck: Yes, but only a small one mind. Now, after me. THAT.
Father Rob: TH....TH....DRINK!
Chuck: Repeat after me... THAT...WOULD....BE....A....CANON.....ISSUE.
Father Rob: THAT......WOUL...DRIN....WOULD....BE.....DRINK!! GIRLS!!!

[Chuck kicks the bar with frustration. Meanwhile at the quayside at Fairlawns]

Michelle: What have you been doing ?

Stephen: Just taking a walk around our modern, vibrant, luxury quayside
         development.  Won't it all be fantastic when it's bustling with
         guests and visitors.

Michelle: Yes, yes, enough of that now, have you seen Alden ?

Stephen: Yes, I spoke to him earlier.  He went off in a boat to that 
         mysterious abandoned seafort, he said 'to make a few
         preparations'.  That's the last I saw of him.

Michelle: Fool, while he's swanning about on pleasure cruises, some of us
          have serious business to run.

Stephen: He probably won't be much longer, there's an awful mist coming in
         off the sea.

Michelle: Well if you see him before I do, tell him I want to see him in my
          office immediately, and if that fog gets any better, go out and
          look for him.

[She walks off, leaving Stephen looking a little apprehensive. In the undersea
 Bunker. Squishy rubber-suited sea devils prowl around the perimeter of
 a chamber, in the centre of which, bound securely to a wooden chair,
 is Marcus. Alden regards him with a thin-lipped smile.]

Marcus: What ... what have you done to your mouth? What happened
        to your lips?!?
Alden: (hastily replacing his false wax lips) A freak childhood 
       sewing-machine accident, nothing more. Calico may or may
       not have been involved. It cut the blood supply and they
       fell off, leaving me with nothing for it but to rely upon
       the aid of reprehensible prosthetic experiments by my good
       friend Dr Gloat of Harley Street ...
Marcus: Aha! So that explains your habit of covering your mouth with
        your hand every time you change your expression! I knew that
        was not entirely down to incredibly bad acting.
A Sea Devil: (off) Don't you bet on it. God, this rubber suit's giving
             me grief in the groinal polyp department ...
Alden: Precisely, Marcus. Long has this secret shame been a very bane 
       upon my life, barring me from the simple pleasures of youth,
       the slightly more complicated pleasures of adolescence and the
       frankly rather pervy pleasures of early middle age ...
SEA DEVIL: (off) I mean, you don't even get a little tickle for the 
           talcum powder, and I mean tickle in in a variety of senses ...
Alden: But no longer shall I bear this foul affliction. I shall hence 
       forward conceal it with a fine and manly moustache! Unfortunately,
       in a completely unrelated depilatory incident, I lost the follicles
       of my remaining upper lip. But now I have the solution ...
Alden: (producing an electric razor) Yes, Marcus. Prepare to say goodbye 
       to your pride and joy!
Marcus: (aghast) You fiend! You don't mean ..?
Alden: No, I mean your moustache.
Marcus: Oh, that's all right then.

[Cut to the motel reception desk. There is obviously a rush on, although 
 there is little physical evidence. Alison and Suki are talking 
 frantically into their headset phones.]

Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next
        three years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has
        not been a recording ...
Suki: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
      years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not been a 
      recording ...
Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next
       three years. Please leave your message after the tone. This
       has not been a recording ...
Suki: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
      years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has
      not been a recording ...
Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
        years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not
        been a recording ...
Suki: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
      years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not been
      a recording ...

[Dave wanders through, playing with his yo-yo.]

Dave: Wotcha, cockers. Funny thing happened on my way to the security 
      office. It was cold out, so I put it back in again. I'll bet you
      don't get many of them there plums to the pound. What's occurring?
Suki: The scriptwriter's pissed again, and he's found the cut and paste 
      commands on his word processor.
Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
        years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not
        been a recording ...
Dave: Ah well. I was just wondering if anyone had seen Dai. I asked him 
      to look after the thermonuclear device I confiscated off that Iraqi 
      terrorist in the Mezzanine.
Suki: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
      years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not been
      a recording ...
Alison: Dai's disappeared. The last I saw of him, he was pulling on his 
        sou'wester and looking for a stirrup pump. He said something
        about going down t'drains and giving them a good sorting out.
        He left you this. (she hands Dave a large bag.)
The Bag: ARMED. ARMED. THERMONUCLEAR DETONATION WILL OCCUR IN FIFTEEN 
         SECONDS. TEN. NINE. EIGHT ...
Dave: Oh bugger me.
Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
        years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not been
        a recording ...
Suki: Chance would be a fine thing.

[Cut back to the undersea Bunker. Alden advances on Marcus with the 
 razor. There is a thump. Marcus looks surprised, but not quite as 
 surprised as Alden. Alden slumps to the ground. The sea devil casts aside 
 the big club with a nail with which he incapacitated Alden, unzips his 
 suit and stands revealed as Dai.]

Dai: You all right, Mr Durham?
Marcus: Oh my god!
Dai: I got here as fast as I could. Took me a while to remember my 
     Special Forces training, since that twelve-pound shell detonated
     two foot from my ear during the Falklands. (lifts up beanie-hat
     to show that half of his skull is metallic.) Let's get you out of
     here, Mr Durham. Oi wants to go back to my Miss Alison. She got
     some crumpet on a low heat for I.
Marcus: And quite possibly some muffin. Untie me, Dai, and let's get out
        of he--
Alden: (springing to his feet) Not so fast.
Marcus: I thought that blow had killed you, Alden.
Dai: Oh, aye.
Alden: "Oh aye" indeed, Dai, it is I, alive and now it is time to die, 
now, Dai!

[Alden pulls a surreptitious lever. Big hatches open in the top of the 
 chamber and millions of tonnes of seawater plunge gown, set to obliterate 
 our heroes and villains alike.]


[Cut back to the motel reception for ...]

Alison: Bates Motel? I'm sorry but we're fully booked for the next three 
        years. Please leave your message after the tone. This has not been
        a recording ...


The Bag: SEVEN. SIX......

[Theme tune fades in, plays and then fades down]

SOUNDS OFF: (extreme chaos, noise, panic and screaming.)

The Bag: FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE.....


[Theme tune finishes]

And Introducing:
Michelle Nire

Marcus Durham
David Lewis
Alden Bates