Andy Milder: Cy Bradstone

Proof

Cy Bradstone

Cy Bradstone: [to video camcorder] Every story has a beginning, but the part I like best is the end.

Matt Bradstone: You never told me that.
Cy Bradstone: Yes, I did, yes, I did, yes, I did! But you thought I was lying and then you married my girl!
Matt Bradstone: So, this is what you do, Cy? Why didn't you just hurt me?
Cy Bradstone: I take away your senses, Matt. The last one is hearing. And if I take that, you wouldn't be able to listen to what I did to her.
Matt Bradstone: You son of a bitch! You taped my daughter?
Cy Bradstone: You son of a bitch!
Matt Bradstone: You son of a bitch!
Cy Bradstone: [smiles] You son of a bitch!
[laughs maniacally]

[first lines]
Teen Cy: Guess who I went to second base with?
Teen Matt: Who, Cy?
Teen Cy: Lyla Smith.
Teen Matt: Bull!
[runs away]
Teen Cy: Get back here! Why don't you believe me?
Teen Matt: Because you lie!
Cy Bradstone: [voiceover] I grew up normal, in a normal house, the size of a castle. I played sports, sang in the choir for the President of the United States, and celebrated my birthdays with four-story cakes flown straight from Paris.

Cy Bradstone: [recording himself and scene] And this is where my brother lives now!
[chuckles]
Matt Bradstone: [happy] There you are, Cy!
Lyla Bradstone: I got you clothes. Bought you some shampoo and toothpaste.
[Matt goes to hug his brother]
Cy Bradstone: [films self] See? We're the perfect American story!
Cy Bradstone: Yeah, yeah, yeah, ok. Turn that thing off an' come on in. Come on.
Cy Bradstone: [Cy grins and it fades as he watches his brother and wife go in the house] Every story has a beginning.
[sinister]
Cy Bradstone: But the part I like best is the end.
[a montage of his torture is shown; the screams heard; cut to credits]

Cy Bradstone: [driving and recording, panning between road and self] My brother and I played kickball over there. And-and-and here is where we would hide from the police after stealing magic potions from the toy store. I don't know why they wouldn't believe me when I told them we were gonna make things with it.
[camera cuts to another scene]
Cy Bradstone: I still build things now! I-I took apart a 1961 Desoto. A-a-a-and built a generator from scratch! It's SO powerful, i-it could light a Springsteen concert!
[camera pans]
Cy Bradstone: But for now, it... it just lights my room.
[laughs and opens two different doors to a kidnapped woman bound to a chair, uncomfortably reclined, and with eyes held wide open by grey tape]
Beth: [hysterical] What are you... what you doing?
[crying and gasping simultaneously]
Beth: I don't understand. I'll do anything. Please, don't hurt me!
[hyperventilates]
Cy Bradstone: Shh, shh, shhhh, shh, shhhhh. W-why would I hurt you?
[puts acid in a dropper which he will obviously be putting in her eyes]
Beth: [screaming] No, no, no, no, no, no! Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
[screams fade into echoes]

Cy Bradstone: I see on the news, on the TV, that people question. They question why-why people do this. It's the same reason people do anything, 'cause, 'cause they feel like it, they like the way it feels. When I was a kid, my dog, Poppy, running across the grass. When I hit her, I liked that feeling. That has not changed.