[This is a segment in a film I'm developing called "You Can't Have Too Much Fun."]

Kay and William have just arrived on a short trip in a ski resort in France, William just having completed a nice photography job. They were in their hotel room at the ski resort, discussing the logistics of their first night out.

"Hey, I want to go to this party; would you want to go with me?" Kay asked, "Being the first day and all."

"Sure," William replied.

"How do you want to pop over there?".

William pulled out his phone, scrolling through the options. "They offer horse carriage! That's nice! I can feel like a king. It'll make me wanna go out too. What do you think?"

"Well, you're paying."

William then let out a sarcastic "Yaaay! Woohoo!"

Outside, under the night sky of the ski resort, they took in moving around in a horse-drawn carriage. The crisp air was filled with the sound of hooves on snow. William started wondering.

"How are we able to get in here?"

"I messaged some people."

This response satisfied William.

"I guess we're gonna figure out how rich people party..." said with air-quotes.

The party was held in a gothic-era wooden salon hall, where the attendees are in "savage mod fashion." all the clothes were tattered versions of mod styles. Trash bins were on fire with the help of mod memorabilia and mod records, and the music playing was American rock, booming from an old record player.

A woman with a nice British accent, Carrie, spots them from a distance, runs up to them, and greets them at the door. "Welcome! Have you brought anything to burn?"

Kay responds.

"Um... no... a friend of mine invited me. He didn't tell me anything about it."

Kay's eyes start scanning the chaotic scene.

"You guys don't like mods?" she asked, noticing the burning memorabilia.

"We say fuck mods here!" Carrie got animated. "We burn anything mod. Fuck mod! That's why we burn their shit and play the rock music from overseas. We even made 3D-printed guns!"

"Well, we're actually from America. Glad you like our culture," William interjected.

"Where in?"

"Boston, actually."

"Oh! Don't know that place! Well come in! Make friends!"

Carrie then disappears into the crowd.

Kay and William entered slowly, absorbing the wild energy of the party.

As time passed, the scene grew darker. People started bringing out heroin, and several party-goers were now nodding out. The music shifted to something like Link Wray's "Rumble," with reverberated and delayed guitars travelling, making a physical presence, almost slicing in the air, kick drums like real tremors in the salon.

"When they played this music I used to feel youthful... now it just feels like a demon haunting me," a man named Ted said.

"Amen," said Carrie. others echoed her.

William was still sort of confused. "I still don't understand why you hate mods so much."

Carrie turned to William. She got dark in her tone, "The mods gave up their dream and became stunted kids. That's why after the 60s there was an uptick in paedophilia in the UK," Carrie explained.

She paused, then continued.

"My grandfather was a mod... he would talk about how he loved so much to be youthful... he would come into bed after I turned eleven and finger me."

She began to rock back and forth. Then she let out a hiss.

"... All I remember... my parents didn't believe me... didn't believe me... they didn't believe me...," and there she continued the phrase.

William's eyes were wide with horror. He took the time to reflect on himself.

And then he looked up from Carrie at Kay, with a blank stare, while Kay knowingly felt his disapproval. He could just barely think of anything to say to her, but comes up with sarcasm.

"Swell party, hm."