Complete working pipeline from Fountain script to validated scene JSON: - Schemas (Pydantic): all 7 layers defined upfront - Fountain parser + normalizer (Layer 1) - AI scene extractor with prompt contracts (Layer 2) - Schema validator + scene-specific semantic validator - Structured JSON logging per layer/scene execution - Versioned output writer (never overwrites) - Retry engine with 4-level failure escalation - Stop condition evaluator (per-unit + global halts) - Diff/drift detector for re-run comparison - CLI entry point with --dry-run, --scene, --test, --force - 3 test scripts (dialogue-heavy, action-heavy, nonstandard) - Expected output files for regression testing Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 4.6 (1M context) <noreply@anthropic.com>
268 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
268 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
Title: The Weight of Words
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Credit: written by
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Author: Test Script
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Draft date: 2026-04-06
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====
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INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE - DAY
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A small, warm room. Bookshelves line the walls. DR. ELENA VOSS (50s, calm, measured) sits across from MARCUS CHEN (30s, restless, avoiding eye contact).
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DR. VOSS
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How have you been sleeping?
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MARCUS
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(shifting in his seat)
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Fine. Same as always.
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DR. VOSS
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Marcus, we've talked about this. "Fine" isn't —
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MARCUS
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It's not a feeling, I know. You've said that.
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A long beat. Elena writes something in her notebook.
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DR. VOSS
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Your sister called me.
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MARCUS
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She had no right to do that.
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DR. VOSS
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She's worried about you. She said you haven't left the apartment in two weeks.
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MARCUS
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That's an exaggeration.
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DR. VOSS
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Is it?
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Marcus finally looks at her. His eyes are red-rimmed.
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INT. MARCUS'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
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A cluttered studio apartment. Takeout containers on every surface. Marcus sits on the floor against the wall, phone in hand. He stares at a text from LILY CHEN: "Please call me back."
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He sets the phone face-down.
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INT. COFFEE SHOP - MORNING
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Bright, busy. LILY CHEN (late 20s, sharp, put-together but tired) waits at a corner table. Marcus enters, looking like he hasn't slept.
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LILY
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You look terrible.
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MARCUS
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Thanks. Love you too.
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He sits. An awkward silence.
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LILY
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Mom's been asking about you.
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MARCUS
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Tell her I'm fine.
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LILY
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I'm not going to lie to her, Marcus.
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MARCUS
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Then don't tell her anything.
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LILY
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That's the same thing and you know it.
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MARCUS
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(quiet)
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How is she?
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LILY
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She's scared. Dad's getting worse and you won't even visit.
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Marcus stares at his coffee.
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INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - AFTERNOON
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HENRY CHEN (60s) lies in a hospital bed, frail but alert. Marcus stands in the doorway, unable to step inside.
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HENRY
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Are you going to stand there all day or come in?
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Marcus enters slowly. He sits in the chair beside the bed.
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HENRY
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Your sister tells me you've been hiding.
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MARCUS
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I haven't been hiding.
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HENRY
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(smiling weakly)
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You're a terrible liar. Always were.
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MARCUS
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Dad —
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HENRY
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I'm dying, Marcus. Not dead yet. You can still talk to me.
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Marcus's composure cracks. He puts his head in his hands.
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INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE - DAY
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Back with Dr. Voss. Marcus is more open now, leaning forward.
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MARCUS
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He just said it. Like it was nothing. "I'm dying."
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DR. VOSS
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How did that make you feel?
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MARCUS
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Like I've been wasting time. Like every day I spent not going to see him was —
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He stops.
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DR. VOSS
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Was what?
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MARCUS
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Selfish. It was selfish.
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DR. VOSS
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You were protecting yourself. That's not the same as selfishness.
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MARCUS
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Isn't it?
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INT. MARCUS'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
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Marcus packs a small bag. He picks up a framed photo from the shelf — a young Marcus and Henry at a baseball game, both laughing.
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He puts the photo in the bag.
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INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT
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Marcus enters with the bag. Henry is asleep. NURSE PATRICIA (40s, gentle) is checking his IV.
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NURSE PATRICIA
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He's been asking for you.
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MARCUS
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I'm here now.
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He sits in the chair and takes his father's hand. Henry stirs.
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HENRY
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(half asleep)
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Marcus?
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MARCUS
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I'm here, Dad. I'm not going anywhere.
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Henry squeezes his hand weakly and drifts back to sleep. Marcus settles in, pulling his jacket around himself like a blanket.
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INT. HOSPITAL CAFETERIA - MORNING
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Marcus and Lily sit across from each other, both holding bad coffee.
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LILY
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You stayed all night?
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MARCUS
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Yeah.
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LILY
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(softening)
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Thank you.
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MARCUS
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Don't thank me. I should have been here weeks ago.
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LILY
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You're here now. That's what matters.
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A beat.
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MARCUS
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I'm going to take a leave from work. Stay until... however long.
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LILY
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(eyes welling up)
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Okay.
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MARCUS
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I called Dr. Voss. She's going to do phone sessions.
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LILY
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That's good. That's really good, Marcus.
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They sit in silence, something unspoken settling between them.
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INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - AFTERNOON
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Marcus reads aloud from a book. Henry listens, eyes closed but smiling.
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HENRY
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You always did have a good voice for reading.
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MARCUS
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Mom used to say I should have been an actor.
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HENRY
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Your mother was right about most things.
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MARCUS
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She was right about you too.
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HENRY
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(opening his eyes)
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What did she say?
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MARCUS
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That you were the most stubborn man alive.
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HENRY
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(laughing, then coughing)
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Was. Was the most stubborn.
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They share a look — sad, warm, real.
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INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAY - EVENING
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Marcus leans against the wall outside Henry's room, on the phone.
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MARCUS
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(into phone)
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I know I missed the deadline. I understand... No, I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm asking for two weeks... Thank you. I appreciate it.
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He hangs up. Takes a breath. Goes back inside.
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INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE - DAY (PHONE SESSION)
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Marcus sits in the hospital cafeteria, phone to his ear.
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DR. VOSS (V.O.)
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How does it feel to be there?
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MARCUS
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Terrifying. And also... right. Like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be.
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DR. VOSS (V.O.)
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That's a significant shift, Marcus.
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MARCUS
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I know. I just wish it hadn't taken this long.
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DR. VOSS (V.O.)
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The important thing isn't when you arrived. It's that you stayed.
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Marcus looks through the cafeteria window toward the hallway leading to his father's room.
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MARCUS
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Yeah. I'm staying.
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FADE OUT.
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