Author's Note: I found this—the original script for the movies (AFAICT). I'm going to take some heavy influence from this and put my own twist on it.
I cannot seem to post the url but if you google it, is found on scriptslug.
It was not yet winter, but the cool autumn air created a chill as the wind howled through the streets of Minneapolis.
Hans, a man every bit in his late sixties, always had a kind word for everyone. He was enjoying the evening with his brother Jan. Their laughter filled the cozy living room of Hans' sports shop. As a fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth, they listened to a radio call the play-by-play of the Eden Hall Warriors versus the Oakcrest Cardinals.
Hans had been unwell for some time now. Despite repeated warnings from his doctor to take it easy, he still got up every day to open his beloved sports shop. His brother Jan flew from the old country to help him run the shop, but Hans still got up every day to watch the kids come and go. He would look forward to seeing them - it was sometimes the highlight of his day.
With hot cocoa in hand, Hans pulled up the blanket to warm himself as the horn blasted to announce the end of the second period.
A voice came through the radio, announcing that the score was four to one in favour of the Cardinals at the end of the second period.
Hans sighed. Casey had been calling all evening, looking for her son, but he was nowhere to be found.
As on cue, a small door chime rang, announcing Charlie's slipping through the back door and sinking into the adjoining couch. Hans had tried many times to make Charlie see what was right in front of him, but it was useless. Charlie had wrapped up his entire self-worth in being the captain of the ducks, and when it was stripped away from him, he had lost all his confidence.
As Charlie turned to leave, he noticed Hans close his eyes.
"Are you okay, Hans? "Charlie asked, his concern growing for his friend. The colour from his face drained as he became increasingly worried when Hans didn't answer.
Hans opened his eyes and tried to stand up, but as he took his first step, he suddenly stopped. Hans's hand clutched his left arm, and his face contorted in pain.
"Hans?" Charlie's voice was filled with panic as he rushed to Hans' side. "Hans, what's wrong?"
Hans tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He fell to the floor, the pain overwhelming him.
Charlie knelt beside Hans, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Hans! Hold on!" Charlie screamed, his voice trembling.
He ran, grabbed the phone, and called 911 - his hands shaking so badly he could barely dial the number.
" 911, what's your emergency?" a voice came through the phone.
Charlie had begun to sob uncontrollably. "I need help. I think he had a heart attack. Please, you have to help!"
"Sir, I need you to try to stay calm," the dispatcher instructed Charlie. "Can you tell me your location?"
"3275 Glenwood," Charlie choked out. "Please hurry!"
The dispatcher sensed the urgency in the boy's voice. "Help is on the way. Is he conscious?"
Charlie tried his best to wake up Hans. "No," Charlie cried. "He's not moving. I don't know what to do. Jan was here, but then he disappeared. "
" Okay, Sir, listen carefully. I need you to calm down so I can help you help your friend," the voice came through the phone. "Is your friend breathing?"
Charlie tried to listen through his sobs. "I think so, "Charlie told the dispatcher. "I'm so scared."
The dispatcher knew exactly what to say. "I understand you're scared," they soothed. "I'll guide you through it. Is your friend on the floor?"
With the strength he did not know he had, Charlie rolled Hans onto his back and dragged him to the middle of the floor.
"He's on the floor," shouted through the phone.
"Good. Now, place the heel of your hand on the center his chest and place your other hand on top of the first hand. Keep your elbows straight and use your body weight to help compress the chest," the dispatcher told Charlie.
Charlie set the phone down and did as the dispatcher instructed him.
Charlie yelled to the phone. "Okay, I'm doing it. I'm pressing down. What do I do now?"
The dispatcher said as loudly as they could, " You need to press hard and fast. I'll count with you. Ready? One, two, three, four..."
Charlie followed along with the dispatcher as well as he could. "One, two, three, four.."
"Keep going, "The dispatcher encouraged Charlie. "You're doing great. It won't be long now."
Charlie continued to do the compressions. "Please hurry! He has to be okay!"
The minutes felt like hours as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Hans lay on the floor, his breathing shallow. Charlie continued the compressions, tears streaming down his face. He didn't know what to do.
"Stay with me, Hans," he whispered. "Please, don't go."
Jan, who had run to the bathroom to grab a bottle of aspirin, knelt beside Charlie and tried to administer a small pill to Hans.
"Come on, you strudel head," Jan urged his brother, tears streaming down his face. " You can wait to meet Greta Thordesen some other day."
Hans didn't respond. His eyes remained closed as the sirens wailed in the distance.
Moments later, the paramedics arrived, swiftly loading Hans onto a stretcher. Charlie tried to follow as they prepared to transport him to the hospital, but one of the paramedics stopped him.
"I'm sorry, but you can't come with us," one of the paramedics said gently. "Family only."
"Please! I need to be with him!" Charlie pleaded.
Jan wrapped her arm around Charlie's shoulders before joining Hans in the back of the ambulance.
"Stay here."
The ambulance sped away, its siren wailing into the night as they carried Hans and Jan towards Mercy Hospital.
Without a second thought, Charlie grabbed a pair of rollerblades from the shop. He strapped them on with trembling hands. His mind raced.
The hospital was several miles away, and he knew he could get there faster on his rollerblades than waiting for the bus or asking for a ride.
Once his rollerblades were on, Charlie took off, the wheels clicking as they hit the pavement. The streetlights illuminated the street below, casting long shadows as he skated through the neighbourhood streets. He zig and zagged between parked cars, his speed increasing with every stride.
Charlie took a shortcut through the park. He barely noticed as he whizzed by couples taking a leisurely stroll, almost running into Scooter. He didn't care about Varsity anymore. His only thought was getting to the hospital.
As he reached the park's exit, he skidded to a halt, checking both ways before crossing the highway. Mercy Hospital was straight ahead, across the Mississippi. Only the bridge was in between, and nothing was going to get in his way.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie darted into the street, weaving between cars stuck in traffic. Drivers honked and shouted, but Charlie didn't care. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing his desperation.
Charlie's legs burned, and sweat dripped down his tear-stained face, but he pushed on, determined to see Hans.
Charlie reached the hospital entrance and skidded to a stop, nearly colliding with a nurse. Breathless, he stumbled inside, his rollerblades clanging loudly against the polished floor.
Charlie spotted Jan sitting in the waiting area - his face full of worry. Out of breath, Charlie sat beside him, waiting desperately for news of Hans. The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Finally, a doctor approached them, his expression sombre.
"I'm sorry," he said gently. "We did everything we could, but Hans had a massive heart attack. He didn't make it."
Charlie felt the world collapse around him. The weight of the news crushed him. "Hans is dead?" Charlie said in disbelief. It was just too horrible to imagine.
"Charlie," he whispered, her voice choked with emotion, "It was his time to go."
After hearing about Hans's death, Casey had just arrived at the hospital. She reached over to hug Charlie, but Charlie took off and bolted out.
He flew out the main doors, running at breakneck speed, almost running into a taxi cab that pulled up in front of the hospital.
A man got out of the cab's back seat, having seen Charlie run off. It was Gordon Bombay.