90. Strange Little Haiku Bits - Leslie

• 1.
  Go ask Alice, child
  Find her secret and listen
  Slip into her mind.


• 2.
  Purple velvet couch
  Golden tea with saffron spice
  Wrapped around my love.


• 3.
  He watches in the dark
  Strums the strings of unseen things
  Strange, beautiful songs.

72. Diary of a Male Prostitute-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. BEDROOM-DAY


• NATE and EVELYN lie nude on a bed. Nate is a young, muscular, good looking blond man in his early twenties; Evelyn is an elderly lady with gray hair.


• Nate's face is above her knees; he grimaces and dives his head between her spread legs.


• Eveyln reaches to the nightstand for an ivory-framed, black and white photograph of her and her husband. She turns it face down.


• Nate gags and coughs. Evelyn sighs and grabs a full glass of red wine from the nightstand. Nate looks up and she throws the glass of wine at his face.


• Nate sits up and turns around, facing away from her. He touches his bleeding face and flakes a few shards of glass from his cheek.


• EVELYN
• You're nothing but a cheap little whore. Get out!


• INT. MOTEL ROOM-DAY


• Nate sits on a chair next to an open window, staring out of it and smoking a cigarette. His face has a few cuts on it. The window pane is old looking and the paint is peeling.


• He looks at the ashes as they float out of the window like tiny feathers. An open journal, dated and written like a diary sits on another chair near him. He grabs his journal and writes.


• EVELYN VO
• Cheap little whore!


• The hotel phone rings. He lets it ring for a long while before finally answering.


• INT. BEDROOM-DAY


• Nate is having sex with a very attractive thirty-something woman. She is moaning. An elderly MAN enters the house and hears the moaning. He is pissed and grabs a golf club out of the foyer closet. He creeps back to the bedroom and peeks through the door.


• He rushes through the door with the golf club raised, yelling obsenities. Nate turns around and ducks his swing; the club smashes the lamp. The man swings again, barely clipping the side of Nate's head. The club slips out of the man's hand and crashes through the window.


• Nate holds his hands over his face and head. The man looks down at him.


• NATE
• You hit me again.


• MAN
• Oh man, I'm sorry.


• The man leaves and comes back with a cotton ball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. In his other hand he has a band aid. Nate sits on the edge of the bed. The man dabs Nate's face with the cotton ball. Nate grabs the bandaid and bats the man's hands away. He stands up, putting on his clothes. he has a cut under his left eye.


• NATE
• Don't call me ever again.


• After Nate puts on his shirt he leaves.


• Nate drives off in a brand new, shiny-red custom-painted, Tesla Roadster. He drives past the Radio City sign, down the brightly lit street.


• INT. LIVING ROOM-DAY


• LOIS, an aged and withered woman is sits in a wheel chair watching TV; her eyes slowly open and close. She is wearing a bib and a tray sits over the arm rest of the wheelchair. There is a respirator stand next to her.


• JANE, an older, very large woman wearing scrubs is feeding Lois pudding with a little spoon.


• Nate pulls into the driveway. He opens the living room door carrying a boquet of purple. He has a bandage under his left eye.


• Lois and Jane smile; Jane puts the spoon in the bowl of pudding and meets nate at the door, grabbing the boquet from him. She looks at his face and takes the boquet to the coffee table and replaces the older flowers with ther new.


• Nate walks over to his mother and pecks her on the cheek. She doesn't recognize him and is blank; eyes slowly opening and closing.


• NATE
• She doing all right?


• JANE
• I was about to ask you the same thing about yourself.


• Nate begins feeding Lois, wiping the spoon on her bib from time to time.


• NATE
• My cat got me.


• Jane runs sing water and dumps dishwashing liguid into the sink. She looks at Nate while he feeds his mother, admiring him. She smiles.


• JANE
• I bet a cat did.


• Nate stops feeding Lois and looks up. Jane is washing dishes and gives Nate a coy smile. Nate looks back to his mother and continues feeding her.


• Nate's cell phone rings. he answers it.


• NATE
• Hey Kev.


• KEVIN'S voice can be heard on the other line.


• KEVIN
• You holding up?


• NATE
• Yeah, I'm good.


• KEVIN
• Got your favorite. I dumped a the whole damned bottle of garlic on it.


• NATE
• Thanks man. I'll see you in a bit.


• Nate closes the phone and kisses Lois on the cheek.


• NATE
• Love you mom.


• Nate walks out the door. Jane watches him and admires him, smiling after he is gone while she washes the dishes.


• EXT. OCEAN SIDE-EVENING


• Nate pulls into the front of the restaurant, one wheel is on the sidewalk. There is a red no parking sign where he is parked. He enters the restaurant.


• INT. OCEAN SIDE-EVENING


• Nate wanders through the crowded and loud restaurant past the Hostess. She smiles at him as he walks by. A line cook fries samon on a frier. Another cook stirs a boiling pot. A glass case of live lobsters stands next to them.


• Nate walks past to the bar, which is fairly empty. Kevin, a thirty-somehting man with bright blue eyes wipes a glass. He smiles at Nate when he enters and then walks to the back. Nate takes a seat at the bar and kevin quickly returns with a steaming plate of manocotti and another plate of steaming, sautéed shrimp.


• Nate smiles and looks up at Kevin. Kevin looks at his wounds.


• NATE
• What happened?


• NATE
• Client.


• Kevin rolls his eyes. Nate picks at his shrimp with a fork.


• KEVIN
• Oh jesus. Those role-playing freaks?


• Nate doesn't respond.


• I talked to Rob. We need a waiter.


• Nate eats.


• KEVIN
• Nate man, you're not going to be an Adonis forver. And those rhoids man.


• Kevin looks around and grabs a rolled up napkin; he holds it to his private parts, acting like it's his penis. Then he folds the end of the napkin down so it hangs limp.


• KEVIN
• Dude, how long you think you can keep this up? Don't you worry about diseases?


• Nate looks up from his food.


• KEVIN
• You're killing me.


• Kevin walks off shaking his head. He comes back with a tall mug of beer and sets it down. He smiles at Nate.


• KEVIN
• Sorry bud, I'm preaching again. I'll just say this one more time, if you want a job you're already hired.


• NATE
• Thanks man.


• Kevin nods and wipes a glass. Nate smiles back.


• EXT. TUDOR HOME-TWILIGHT


• The sun sets in front of the huge Tudor home, reflecting off the Gable dormers.


• EXT. TUDOR HOME-TWILIGHT


• The black and white, italian marble floor gleams with a polished look. Large healthy plants sit at either end of the foyer. Two full plates of armor with feathered helmets stand next to them holding halberds. The suits of armor have tiny, rusty holes. Through the HOLES of the left suit Nate is in the shower.


• INT. BATHROOM SHOWER-NIGHT


• Nate scrubs his sudsy head. His face bleeds.


• Nate walks into his huge bedroom in a towel past his computer. The monitor displays a web site about Creutzfeldt-Jacob disease. There is a $2,000 bill lying on the computer desk. Part of the bill reads in-home hospice care. Next to the bill on the computer are several stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills, tied with a red clip. There are also several stacks of bills on his dresser.


• Nate flops on his bed naked.


• NATE VO
• I used to laugh at Kevin.


• INT. SUBWAY-NIGHT


• Kevin enters the already crowded subway with a crowd of people that push past him. He is wearing his work uniform. Someone takes a seat before he can get to it. He holds the rail, scrunched between people.


• INT. APT-NIGHT


• Kevin walks through the door of his dingy apartment wearing a stained apron. He walks to the bathroom and pulls out a wad of money from the apron and fans it. He smiles at is and fans it again.


• NATE VO
• Maybe tonight was a good night and he made a bill, or a bill and a half. He's holding it like he just found a pot of gold.


• Kevin takes off the dirty apron and throws it into a hamper.


• INT. APT-NIGHT


• Nate's cut bleeds.


• NATE VO
• But at the end of the day I can't scrub the filth away, no matter how hard I try.


• INT. HOSPITAL-HALLWAY


• A shift-eyed DOCTOR runs his thumb around the circle of his STETHOSCOPE, talking to Nate.


• DOCTOR
• ...a year, a little over a year if she's lucky.


• INT. APT-NIGHT


• Nate uncaps a syringe and sticks it into the top of a vial.
  
• NATE VO
• Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing this for my mother. Maybe I'm just lying to myself.


• Nate flicks the syringe.


• NATE VO
• I'm selling little pieces of my soul for $350 a pop, or $750 an hour. I eventually black-list people who ask me to do S&M. I can't sell my soul with my face is caved in and my teeth knocked out, my agency would fire me. I've got to be Adonis.
• 
  
• Nate sticks himself with the syringe and injects himself.


• NATE VO
• But sometimes I wonder if I even have a soul left. Sometimes, what you think is a one-time event tumbles into a lifestyle, and before you know it, you’ve dug yourself into a hole so deep it seems impossible to get out.


• INT. LIVING ROOM-NIGHT


• Lois sits in her wheelchair watching Television. A different nurse lies on the couch behind her.


• NATE VO
• I'm not saying there's no free will, I'm just saying that you know what to expect with misery, especially if you've lived with it your whole life.


• INT. MOTEL-NIGHT


• Nate stares out of the peeling window, smoking a cigarette and watching the ashes float through it. His journal lies opened on the bed with a pen on top of it. There is an Ocean Side menu with a phone number scribbled on it next to the journal.


• NATE VO
• I wish I could fly on their dusty wings and leave this life behind.


• There is a tap at the door. Nate stubs his cigarette out and answers the door. Jane is standing their dressed in a low-cut dress. There is small food stain on her cheek.


• Nate is shocked and stands in silence for a moment before closing the door on her. He dead bolts it.


• He picks up the menu and opens his cell phone. He dials the number on the menu.


• NATE VO
• Maybe sometime change is easier than misery.


• FADE OUT

89. Welcome Home (A PSA Idea) - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. CHURCH - DAY


• The massive cathedral-like space glows as sunlight dances through the stained glass.


• The space is completely re-organized.


• Instead of pews, couches and love seats are scattered around the sanctuary hall.


• A variety of people are seated or standing around the seats.
>

• A FIREDANCER pops up from behind one of the couches spinning burning poi as she twists and bobs.


• Past her, a young PHOTOGRAPHER is framing up a shot of a COUPLE sitting on a couch.


• They smile at the camera, piercings glistening in the light.


• Several CONTORTIONISTS practice in the corner, laughing and sharing different positions.


• A PAINTER and a SCULPTOR are busy working on respective art pieces and a YOUNG MAN in a worn army cap is sprawled out on a couch busily scribbling in a notebook.


• The short, strong-looking young man, looks up, as if he's heard a sound.


• He walks through the crowd, grinningly dodging the fire dancer.


• He moves past a group of musicians, a VIOLINIST, THREE SINGERS, and a GUITAR PLAYER all jamming away in a corner.


• The man walks to the front of the cathedral and pushes open the doors of the church.


• ANNIE stands there, a travel backpack at her feet, hair dirty and stringy from a long trip, her nose ring shiny with sweat and gleaming in the sun.


• YOUNG MAN
• I thought I heard you out there. Want to come in?


• Annie hesitates, then slowly steps past the threshold.


• The young man exhales, as if letting go of pent-up anticipation.


• YOUNG MAN
• Oh good! Welcome. You're home now.


• He waves at one of the contortionist who is folded in a mind-bending way.


• The contortionist waves back.


• As the young mans waves, one of his sleeves pulls back, showing a large puckered scar on his wrist.


• FADE TO BLACK.

88. Stories - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. TOP LEVEL OF PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT


• JEREMY sighs as he walks slowly around the parking structure, inspecting the cars absently as his feet pull him around his beat on pure muscle memory.


• He readjusts his uniform as he walks, and pulls his cap off to feel the breeze. It reads "Eagle Securities," below a badly-designed screeching at intruders, real and imagined.


• He doesn't notice ANDREA at first, her dark jeans blending into the night.


• She sits on the railing, her shoulder-length hair blowing in the breeze as she looks over the street far below.


• Jeremy does a double-take.


• JEREMY
• Hey, Lady! You can't be there.


• He is alert again, walking briskly towards her.


• JEREMY
• Lady, I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave. It's too late for you to be here.


• Andrea doesn't turn.


• ANDREA
• Do you see the stories?


• JEREMY
• Lady...


• ANDREA
• Come here, look...all the stories.


• Jeremy stops beside her and looks down, flinching at the height.


• Andrea is pointing to the lights of the streets below and the flow of color that traces traffic as it races through the city.


• JEREMY
• Lady, look, you're trespassing.


• ANDREA
• Listen to the stories. Look...see that one?


• Jeremy looks despite himself.


• She is pointing to a man walking a dog; he disappears and reappears as he passes under streetlights.


• ANDREA
• He just found out he won the lottery, it's a nice chunk of cash, but a week ago he found out that his cancer is back, eating away at his body faster and faster every day, he has a month at most to live. So he's walking his dog, trying to figure out what to do. What to do with the money, what to do with the month.


• JEREMY
• That's nice, Lady, but you have to go.


• She turns, and smiles gently at Jeremy, and he sees her face for the first time.


• Hair spills down her face, earrings peeking shyly from behind the strands.


• He is captivated.


• ANDREA
• Andrea, call me Andrea. Sit.


• She pats the railing next to her, and he hesitates, then sits.


• ANDREA
• There, see?


• A police car sits at a corner.


• Jeremy nods.


• ANDREA
• That's Officer Markham. He just finished his last cup of coffee. He promised himself he'd cut back on the caffeine. So he got himself a soy pumpkin spice latte with a shot of caramel, and he's just savoring it. When his partner, Officer Povic asks what he got, he'll say "Black, like always."


• Jeremy is caught up in the words.


• He sees a young woman walking slowly, a smile on her face.


• JEREMY
• What about her?


• ANDREA
• What about her?


• He pauses.


• JEREMY
• That's Amy Reid, she's had a pretty bad day. Her boss threatened to fire her, and she knows it was her fault, and she's never had a better job. She found out her overdraft was a lot larger than she had thought, and her mother just really doesn't understand why she's still pursuing this writing nonsense. But two minutes ago, she got a call from Harpers. Her first article got published.


• Andrea grins at him.


• ANDREA
• Do you hear them?


• JEREMY
• Yeah.


• They stare at the street.


• Jeremy points.


• JEREMY
• That's Mark.


• FADE TO BLACK.

71. Interstate Deathwish-Eric

• FADE IN


• EXT. INTERSTATE-NIGHT


• Mr. Broker is parked sideways, halfway on the interstate and halfway on the shoulder of the road in a little, red Ford escort. The interstate curves sharply, almost in a compete circle and a ramp wall blocks any line of sight ahead or behind his vehicle. The vehicle's lights are off and a dense layer of fog blankets the area.


• He is sitting in the back seat; his head is leaned back and his eyes are closed. He bites his lip. His hand moves up and down rapidly and his pants are down to his ankles. Light rain pelts the windshield, and soft music is playing.


• Headlights whip past him and car horns are blaring. Vehicles screech and swerve to avoid him. A red truck screeches then hydroplanes toward Mr. Broker's Ford like a speeding bullet.


• EXT. COURT ROOM-DAY


• Mr. Broker sits behind a stand. A black plaque labeled Judge Polinski is fastened to judge's desk. JUDGE POLINSKI, a cotton-white haired man with chain-fastened bifocals holds a sheet of paper. He lifts his bifocals up and looks at the sheet and shakes his head.


• JUDGE POLINSKI
• Son, we don't even have laws for this kind of thing. Never in my forty years have I seen something like this.


• He looks back down at the sheet and then back to Mr. Broker.


• JUDGE POLINSKI
• This Indecent exposure, and reckless endangerment. It's a felony you know.


• Judge Polinksi looks back down at the sheet. He lays it down and takes his bifocals completely off.


• JUDGE POLINSKI
• Are you sucidal...Mr. Broker?


• Mr. Broker nods. The female baliff leans over and whispers to the judge.


• JUDGE POLINSKI
• I don't know why I'm not putting you in prison. I'm suspending your sentence, you'll have six months of in-patient and six months of out-patient therapy. If you fail to report..


• INT. APARTMENT-DUSK


• GWEN, a pretty red-head woman in an O'charlies uniform kisses Mr. Broker goodbye at the doorway. Before she turns to leave he holds up a finger.


• MR. BROKER
• Wait.


• Mr. Broker walks to the coffee table. Pans of fresh pumkin pie crowd the coffee table so much that it can't be seen. He picks up a pan and walks to the kitchen. The counters and table are filled with pans of pumpkin pie as well as the sink.


• He walks with the pan and sets it down on top of another one in the sink. He opens the cabinet under the sink and pulls out Saran wrap. He wraps the pan and walks back to the living room.

Gwen is looking at her watch when he enters. He hands her the pie and she smiles, kissing him once more. He smells her hair. She leaves.

• INT. INTERSTATE-NIGHT


• Gwen is driving in a little white CRX. She turns on the radio. It begins pouring down rain.


• A red truck weaves in and out of the two-lane interstate roughly seven car lengths behind Gwen's vehicle. Horns are honking. The red truck speeds up and rushes past Gwen, clipping the side of the car and spinning her off the interstate into a ditch. A few minutes later an INDOT truck with flashing yellow lights slows down and pulls over to the shoulder of the road.


• Gwen's guts hang out and she is completely covered in blood. Her left arm is hyper-extended and the bone sticks out from her elbow.


• INT. BEDROOM-MORNING


• Mr. Broker shoots awake in his bed, sitting up. He is white and his face is beaded with sweat. Empty pans of pumpkin pie litter the entire bedroom. Several piles are stacked four feet tall.


• EXT. GREENLEAF SALLE PARKING LOT-DAY


• Mr. Broker pulls into the parking lot in the red Escort. A brown and green wood sign reads GREENLEAF SALLE. He exits the car and walks into the building.


• INT. THERAPIST OFFICE-DAY


• One Year Ago


• JOAN, a young woman with short, dark hair and a lazy eye stares at Mr. Broker. Her office is sterile looking, without much decor. Several black and white fish dart back and forth in a gurgling fish tank.


• Mr. Broker sits in a comfortable chair, padded with maroon fabric. A plaque on Joan's desk is engraved with Joan Marshall, Clinical Psychologist. A yellow legal pad lies on her desk next to a manilla folder. She leans forward on her desk and clears her throat.


• JOAN
• Mr. Broker, may I call you Ted?


• Mr. Broker nods.


• JOAN
• Ted, I have a three-year-old daughter and I drive on that interstate every night.


• JOAN
• Why?


• MR. BROKER
• Because I can't afford cable.


• Joan stares him down. She opens the manilla folder and flips through its pages.


• JOAN
• I see this isn't your first tour.


• Mr. Broker sits blankly.


• JOAN
• You're delusional and a harm to others. I can have you committed.


• JOAN
• Is that what you want?


• Mr. Broker shakes his head no.


• JOAN
• You better start coming clean then, what's going on.


• They talk.


• MR. BROKER VO
• She asks me why I do this, but she didn't know Gwen.


• INT. APARTMENT-DAY


• Mr. Broker sits in the kitchen with his sleeve rolled up. he cuts his arms with a pocket knife. There are several old puffy, white scars near the place where he cuts; he begins bleeding. The door opens; he looks up and hides the knife and rolls down his sleeve.


• Gwen walks through the living room in her O'Charlies uniform. Her apron is stained with pesto sauce and her hair is a mess. She carries a plastic container with Tiramisu Pie and hands it to Mr. Broker. He kisses her.


• GWEN
• It was the last piece. I had to hide it 'til the end of my shift.


• MR. BROKER VO
• She was one of a kind, the only woman who would put up with my antics.


• INT. KITCHEN-NIGHT


• Mr. Broker pulls several trays of pumpkin pie from the stove, which smokes profusely. The fire alarm screeches.


• Gwen rolls over in bed and looks at the clock, which reads 3:54 AM. Her work uniform lies on the nightstand. She walks into the kitchen in her robe. Mr. Broker yelps and drops a hot tray from the oven; pumpkin pie splatters on the floor. Gwen stands on a chair to turn off the fire alarm, she slips of the chair and Mr. Broker catches her.


• INT. BATHROOM-NIGHT


• Mr. Broker is in the shower, holding a lit cigarette with one hand and holding Stephen King's It in the other. His arms are dripping with blood. Gwen slowly pulls the shower curtain back and peeks in, waving the cigarette smoke from her face. The fire alarm screeches on. Gwen feigns a smile.


• GWEN
• Honey, I thought you quit doing that.


• GWEN CONT'D
• It's four o'clock in the morning, I have to set up at work this morning.


• MR. BROKER VO
• Yup, she stuck by me through it all until that bastard drunk driver murdered her.


• EXT. INTERSTATE-NIGHT


• Mr. Broker is parked sideways, halfway on the interstate and halfway on the shoulder of the road in a little, red Ford escort. The interstate curves sharply, almost in a compete circle and a ramp wall blocks any line of sight ahead or behind his vehicle. The vehicle's lights are off and a dense layer of fog blankets the area. It rains.


• MR. BROKER VO
• The Russians have their roulette; the Swiss have their William Tell, and the Japanese have their Kamikazes. I have my own little spin on these cathartic games. Think of me as the opposite of a Kamikazi pilot.


• Drivers blare their horns and swerve into the other lane.


• MR. BROKER VO
• I'm hoping by chance the same drunk driver that killed her will run into me, then we can be together again.


• A red truck comes around the curve; Gwen is in the passenger seat next to the male driver. She massages the back of his neck with her left hand; he leans his head back a bit into the massage.


• MR. BROKER VO
• And if all else fails at least it's cheaper than renting a movie. Joan doesn't believe any of this, she said that Gwen divorced me two years ago because she couldn't deal with my schizophrenia.


• The red truck makes its way around the curve, very close to Mr. Broker's Escort. It rains harder. Mr. Broker is leaned back masturbating and listening to The Everly Brothers.


• MR. BROKER VO
• She's just waiting on the judge's approval to put me away for good. But she's just a hater, and I'm not going to let her or anything stop me from being with the woman I love.


• They are around the corner; she still massages his neck and he leans back. He slams on the brakes when he sees the Escort, but it's too late and he smashes into the back of Mr. Broker.


• FADE OUT

87. Knights - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. DAN AND SARAH'S LIVING ROOM - EVENING


• DAN and SARAH sit next to each other on the living room couch.


• Sarah is dressed in PJs, legs folded under her as she surfs absently through the channels.


• Dan is dressed up, drumming the coffee table impatiently.


• SARAH
• Relax.


• DAN
• Trying.


• SARAH
• So wait, tell me again...when you were a kid, you wanted...?


• DAN
• I used to fantasize that the girl of my dreams would suddenly appear outside my window, and take me away on amazing adventures.


• Sarah snorts.


• SARAH
• In what? A hot hair balloon or something.


• DAN
• Something, I dunno. I don't think I ever got that far, I'd just play that part over and over, her appearing. I'd be delighted, but not surprised...I knew she was coming.


• Sarah coughs trying not to laugh, and fails.


• DAN
• See, this is why we're not dating anymore.


• SARAH
• Exactly.


• DAN
• I'm surprised we work as roommates.


• SARAH
• Barely.


• The doorbell rings.


• SARAH
• Elena?


• DAN
• Yeah.


• He walks over and opens the door for ELENA, who stands grinning at him and hands him a simple bouquet.


• DAN
• She gets it.


• Sarah snorts.


• SARAH
• Go, go...your white knight has arrived


• Dan grabs Elena's hand.


• DAN
• Let's go, the Evil Ex over there is tormenting me.
  


• ELENA
• Bye Sarah, have a good evening.


• Sarah waves, then sticks out her tongue at Dan as he closes the door.


• FADE TO BLACK.

70. Friendly Fire-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. BARRACKS LOCKER ROOM-MORNING


• Caption at bottom screen reads: Baghdad, November 2005.


• A blurry SARGEANT LISKEY is sitting in a wheelchair in a locker room bobbing his head slightly and whistling to himself. He is facing away from PRIVATE JASON STEAGLE; only the back of Liskey's head is visible.


• A hand carries a gun, and swiftly creeps up behind him. The hand puts the gun against the back of his head and pulls the trigger.


• The wall drips red with blood and brain fragments.


• PRIVATE TUCKER OFF SCREEN
• Holy shit...Steagle?


• INT. PRISON-DAY


• Private Steagle, a skinny and pale young man with a severly scarred face, sits in an orange jumpsuit on his prison cot. He is alone in his cell which is no larger than a closet. He is writing something on a legal pad.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• In the military, the most tragic war stories sometimes never get told. If nothing else good comes of the war, at least I have the chance to tell of Private Tucker's tragedy, and mine.


• INT. LIVING ROOM-MORNING


• Jason Steagle sits at a computer, typing something on Microsoft Word. Several how-to-write-a-short-story-or-novel books are stacked on his computer desk.


• CRYSTAL pecks him on the cheek.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• Morning Crys.


• CRYSTAL
• I'm going to be late for work, by babe.


• Crystal slings her purse over her shoulder and leaves.


• Steagle's mother, a withered lady, sits behind him in a wheel chair watching television. Her head is kinked to the side; her eyes are lopsided.


• His sister JENNIFER enters the room and hands him a letter. The envelope reads US ARMY. It is post dated August 15, 2005.


• INT. BARRACKS-MORNING


• Soldiers scramble around coming to and from the shower; some snap each other with towels near the locker room. Some shave. Others sit at their beds and a few throw a football back and forth.


• Private Steagle and Private Tucker play cards together at a table. Private Tucker is a squat man. A fifth of whiskey sits on the table next to two shot glasses. They each have a small pile of bills on their respective sides of the table, and an ante sits in the middle.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• I met Tucker here in the summer. I was called in during a troop surge and asked to fight a war that I didn't even know was happening. Sometimes I don't think anyone really knows it's happening. Until you land here.


• They light up cigarettes; Steagle lays down an Ace.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• We weren't prepared for the Roulette game called war; maybe no one really ever is.


• Private Tucker takes a shot of whiskey and lays down two Kings. He smiles and scoops up the ante.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• We gravitated toward one another, the same way lonely drunks in a bar seem to sniff out each other's misery.


• OFF SCREEN VOICE
• Post! Post!


• Tucker and Steagle get lost in the crowd of soldiers that surround the Postman. They head back to the table and open their letters.


• Steagle's letter is addressed from Jennifer Steagle, EDEN, VT. 05652.


• The letter reads: Dear Jason, and the right side it is dated August 29, 05'.


• Part of the letter reads: Mom isn't doing very good. I had to put her in St. Anthony's last Sunday...I saw Cyrstal with Michael on my way to the theater the other night. I drove past his house the next day and I saw her car there. She's been with him since you left. I'm sorry to be the one...


• Steagle crumples the letter and tosses it next to the ante pile.


• Tucker folds his carefully and tosses it next to ante pile as well.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• You get a Dear-John letter too?


• Tucker nods.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• Let's blow this joint.


• INT. BAR-NIGHT


• Steagle and Tucker play electronic gambling machines in a nearly deserted bar. Steagle plays an electronic Roulette game, Tucker plays an electronic black jack game.


• The machine's ball lands on a black 33. The machine makes a high pitched beep, and repeatedely flashes Game Over Insert Coin.


• Steagle pats his pockets and checks them. He turns them inside out but there is no money.


• Tucker's machine makes a similar high pitched noise and displays BUST in big red letters. Tucker mutters.


• Steagle hits his Roulette machine.


• BARKEEP OFF SCREEN
• Cut that shit out!


• Private Jason Steagle and Private Tucker sit in a dark corner, locked in gaze, staring each other down. They take turns taking shots, silently daring the other person to keep up.


• EXT. NORTHERN BAGHDAD-MORNING


• Steagle, Tucker, Sargeant Liskey, CORPORAL ATKINS and the other Privates cruise down a desert road in a Humvee. They stop next to a derelect scrapyard. The grayish wood building is pocked with bullet holes. A sunfaded sign flaps above the building entrance, hanging on for dear life.


• The group exits the vehicle, and uses the building for cover. They take out binoculars and watch children at a schoolyard in the distance. Some children are making a flag, another group tosses a ball back and forth, running to and fro.


• Sargeant Liskey walks around the building and stops at the corner.He unzips his pants. Tucker lowers his binoculars and wipes the profuse sweat from his brow and face with his hand.


• Steagle continues to watch the children. A child dumps a canister of red paint on the flag; the other children chase him.


• A thump is heard. Steagle turns around, a flash and an explosion occur before he can turn all the way around.


• Steagle is on the ground; Tucker has tackled him, shielding him from the blast. Tucker and Steagle yell in agony. Tucker's leg from the knee down dangles from the top by tendons. Gun fire is heard. Corporal Atkins holds his belly and flops over, his face inches from Steagle's. A small hole is in the center of his forehead and blood bellows out of his mouth. His eyes slowly close. Steagle's face is a bloody mess; his left eye is missing.


• SARGEANT LISKEY OFF SCREEN
• Fall out! Fall out!


• Sargeant Liskey and another Private hoist up Tucker and Steagle. Two other privates open fire on the wood building. There is an explosion; the building goes up in flames. They hurry to the Humvee and hightail it out of there.


• Tucker screams. A private pulls out a medic kit and gives him a shot. His screams die down to moans.


• INT. INFIRMARY-NIGHT


• Steagle and tucker lie in beds next to each other. They are hooked up to IV's. Tucker's stump of his left leg is bandaged. Steagle's entire face is bandaged.


• Tucker wimpers softly. A nurse brings a tray with a medicine cup and a plastic cup of water next to Tucker's bed. He hits the tray, knocking the nurse back.


• INT. INFIRMARY-MORNING


• Steagle wakes up, opening his eyes to the sound of Tucker wimpering. Steagle sighs. Two trays of food have been placed on a fold-out tray on their beds. A pair of crutches lean against the wall next to Tucker's bed.


• Tucker tosses and turns, mutters and wimpers, finally facing away from Steagle. Steagle takes Tucker's tray quietly and places it on a night stand. He wheels the nightstand away from Tucker's bed. Steagle eats his breakfast, and as Tucker wakes Steagle pretends to be sleeping.


• Tucker sees his tray, and inexpertly leans forward, trying to reach it, but it is too far. He grabs a crutch and tries to use it to latch to the nightstand, but he only manages to push it farther. He sighs and stands up, using both crutches. A moment later he crashes to the ground, screaming. The nurses rush to his aid; he bats them away with his crutch.


• Steagle acts like he is waking up. He stands up and hoists up Tucker. The nurses stand back and watch as Steagle pushes the nightstand closer and takes off the tray, putting it on Tucker's foldout tray. The nurses give Tucker and Steagle dirty looks and walk off.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• Hang in there man, two more days we'll be eating pumpking pie and drinking American rum.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• I'm not going back home.


• A nurse walks by and rudely tosses Steagle a letter on his bed and walks off. The letter is addressed from Jennifer Steagle, EDEN, VT. Steagle opens it. The side of the letter reads November 24, 05'.


• JENNIFER VO
• Dear Jason, By the time you get this I will have already buried mom. She died Tuesday. She kept calling your name over and over again. I haven't even cried yet. I can't believe any of this is real...


• Steagle's head flops down; he still holds the letter.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• More bad news?


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• Isn't it always?


• PRIVATE STEAGLE CONT'D
• Let's get the fuck out of here.


• Steagle rips the IV from his arm and finds a wheel chair. He comes back and helps Tucker into it. Steagle rips out Tucker's Iv line andgrabs two prescription bottles from their nightstand. He wheels him out.


• INT. BAR-NIGHT


• Steagle slams the roulette machine and walks back to the table where Tucker is sitting. His wheelchair is next to the table. There is a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting in the middle of the table and a deck of cards.


• Steagle and Tucker uncap their prescription bottle and pour a few pills into their hands. They swallow them and wash them down with whiskey. Steagle rolls up two cigarettes. He hands one to Tucker and the light up, staring at each other.


• Steagle and Tucker pop another pill and looks out of the window at the orange moon.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• I'm not going back home.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• I know, I understand.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• No, I don't think you do. I'm a bricklayer.


• Tucker looks down at where his leg used to be. Then he places a gun on the table.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• I need you to do something for me.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• Wouldn't morphine be easier?


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• Nope, everyone needs to see this. All those people getting discharged, going home to their wives and kids with both legs, they need to see this.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE
• I'm not going to prison bud. Why do you need me to do it?


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• Because I don't have the balls. I don't even want to see it coming. Maybe we can both do it.


• Steagle shakes his head and looks at the moon, which has become red.


• PRIVATE TUCKER CONT'D
• What do you have left to go back to anyway?


• INT. HOSPITAL ROOM-NIGHT


• Jason's mother lies on a bed whispering his name. Her lopsided eyeballs slowly close.


• INT. BAR-NIGHT


• Steagle slowly unwinds the bandage from around his head. His face is severely disfigured and caked with dry blood. His left eye socket is empty.


• The BARKEEP drops off a full bottle of Jack Daniel's on the table, and flinches when he sees Steagle's face.


• Steagle chews another pill, Tucker follows suit. They wash it down with whiskey. Tucker slides the gun across the table towards Steagle.


• PRIVATE TUCKER
• Tommorow morning.


• INT. ARMY BARRACKS-MORNING


• The barracks are empty. Steagle wakes up, his face in a pool of his own vomit. Steagle clears the rheum from his eyes. He looks at Tucker's cot, which looks blurry. He rubs his eyes again, but the bluriness reamins. He walks over to the bed which is empty save for a bottle of champagne, a few small, wrapped presents, and a wrapped fruit basket.


• Steagle chuckles. He walks back to his bed and puts on his fatigues. He grabs his gun, checks the cartridge and walks to the locker room.


• INT. BARRACKS LOCKER ROOM-MORNING


• Tucker is in his wheelchair, Sargeant Liskey is helping him with a boot. The shower, off screen and around the corner is running.


• INT. ARMY BARRACKS-MORNING


• Steagle walks back to his cot and sits down. He rolls up a cigarette and lights it. He puffs on it for a little while and walks back to the locker room.


• INT. BARRACKS LOCKER ROOM-MORNING


• Steagle carries the gun, and swiftly creeps up behind a blurry Sargeant Liskey. He puts the gun against the back of his head and pulls the trigger.


• The wall drips red with blood and brain fragments. Steagle puts the barrel of the gun in his mouth.


• PRIVATE TUCKER OFF SCREEN
• Holy shit...Steagle?


• The shower stops running. Steagle takes the gun out of his mouth and walks around the corner to the shower.


• Tucker sits naked on a plastic stool under a dripping shower head, his mouth slightly hangs down.


• Steagle is dressed in an orange jumpsuit, writing on a legal pad.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• Later on, I found out Liskey had helped him into the shower. And then playfully commandeered the wheelchair. If I would have just finished him when I had the chance.


• INT. BARRACKS LOCKER ROOM-MORNING


• Sargeant Liskey walks out of the shower room and sits in Tucker's wheel chair. He rolls a little bit, trying to do fancy tricks. He whisltes and bobs his head. Steagle creeps up behind him with gun in hand. There is a bang, and then blood and brain splatter on the wall.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• I grapple with the what-ifs every day, if my eye weren't blind, or if my vision weren't blurred from the pills and booze. But debating this can't give Liskey his life back. The only real debate now is when to kill myself.


• INT. WALK IN CLOSET-UNKNOWN


• Tucker's leg kicks beneath him as he grabs his throat and chokes; a belt it tied around his throat. His crutches tip over.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• My trial is in three days. Tucker hung himself in a walk in closet a couple of months ago.


• INT. BAR-NIGHT


• Tucker slides a gun across the table toward Steagle.


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• In wartime, every day is just another spin of the loaded chamber. In wartime we are all asked to spin it and pull the trigger, whether we are ready or not.


• EXT. NORTHERN BAGHDAD-MORNING


• There is an explosion, Steagle is lying on the ground. Tucker is lying on top of him; the bottom of his leg dangling.


• There is gunfire. Blood bellows from Corporate Atkin's mouth.


• INT. BARRACKS LOCKER ROOM-MORNING


• There is a gunshot, blood and brain fragments drip down the wall.


• INT. BAR-NIGHT


• An electronic roulette machine makes a high pitched beep and repeatedly flashes Game Over Insert Coin


• PRIVATE STEAGLE VO
• Some are lucky enough to win the game and some are not. These are the stories that sometimes slip through the cracks.


• FADE TO BLACK

86. Warning Labels - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. AMANDA'S BEDROOM - DAY


• AMANDA sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes as sunlight streams into the room.


• INT. AMANDA'S BATHROOM - DAY


• She gets up, staggers into the bathroom, and steps into the shower, throwing her robe over the top of the curtain.


• She turns the shower on to full blast, steam rising and covering the bathroom in a fine mist.


• She finishes, drying off, and preparing for her day, brushing her teeth, washing her face, but applies no makeup.


• INT. AMANDA'S BEDROOM - DAY


• She walks back into the room and finishes getting dressed, transformed from a sleepy young woman into a professional, ready to conquer the day.


• Her face still shows the lines of sleep and a slightly sleepy, sad gaze.


• INT. APARTMENT HALLWAY - DAY


• She walks quickly down the hallway, checking her cell phone for the time, then stops short.


• AMANDA
• Oh!


• She turns back, and opens a small closet door.


• She pulls the draw string on the naked bulb, and the closet is flooded with light.


• It's a surreal closest, lined dozens of masks, all perfect replicas of her face.


• Each is set in a slightly different emotion.


• She scans the closet, then makes her choice.


• She flips the mask over; a worn sticker is attached on the inside.


• It reads: Warning! Side effects of prolonged usage may include...


• She tears the sticker off and crumples it, tossing it onto the floor while wiping her fingers to get rid of the stickiness.


• She places the mask on her face and it almost seems to melt into her, only a tiny seam showing where mask meets face.


• Her entire body straightens, and her stride becomes more brisk the minute the mask is in place.


• She is now bright and cheery, and heads out the door, her makeup immaculate.


• INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT


• Amanda walks into the room, still brisk, even after a long day of work.


• She sits down on the side of the bed and pulls of her shoes, wiggling her toes.


• She reaches up, and tries to pull the mask off.


• It doesn't budge.


• She pulls harder, and tendrils grow from the bottom of the mask and wrap around her neck.


• She fights for a moment, struggling to pull the mask away, then lets go, gasping for air.


• The tendrils tighten, warning, then slowly pull away, disappearing once again.


• She sits on the edge of the bed, face content, fixed in a cheerful smile for a long moment.


• A tear rolls out of her eye, down the mask, and past the smile.


• FADE TO BLACK.

85. Lines - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. BUS STOP - NIGHT


• TERRY sits next to ENRIQUE in the plastic enclosure next to the road.


• The bus stop is covered in ads and graffiti.


• Both are dressed in nice jeans and un-tucked, button-up shirts.


• Terry looks over at Enrique and shakes his head.


• TERRY
• Dude, the way she was dancing with you?


• ENRIQUE
• I know. Wow. There's like that line between fun and hot and bothered, and well, she kicked it way past the goal posts.


• TERRY
• Why are you sitting here?


• ENRIQUE
• What?


• TERRY
• Come on! You know she wanted you.


• ENRIQUE
• Oh


• TERRY
• And you didn't go there. Good night, man. It's not like you had to push too many more buttons.


• ENRIQUE
• Yeah, well, as fun as that was and would be...the next relationship I get into, I want to be about more than just that kind of chemistry.


• TERRY
• So it didn't have to be a relationship.


• Enrique shoots Terry a look.


• ENRIQUE
• That's not a line I really want to cross, not right now, not with someone I barely know. And that's hard to say when I remember those eyes.


• TERRY
• And the way those eyes were begging your eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. She couldn't take those eyes away.


• ENRIQUE
• Enough, enough. Line, there. Me...staying over here.


• TERRY
• Whatever, man.


• The bus pulls up, creaking and sighing, and finally screeching to a stop.


• They begin boarding and Terry turns his head slight to address Enrique.


• TERRY
• You really shouldn't be getting on this bus with me, really. Oh you hurt me.


• Enrique grins, gives Terry a shove, and they get on board.


• FADE TO BLACK.

84. Haiku Bits - Leslie

• 1.
  He brings his sorrow
  Where weeping willows touch sea
  He signs her death song.


• 2.
  They danced on the street,
  Under pale and yellow light,
  Tango in the dark.


• 3.
  Run young one, run far
  Carry your hopes from this place,
  Guard fiercely your heart.

69. Super Virus-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. LAB-NIGHT


• Professor Cain leans on his knees over a computer, taking apart the CPU tower. A dark headpiece with protruding wires is connected to the back of the CPU.


• PROFESSOR KIM enters, carrying another dark headpiece.


• PROFESSOR KIM
• I think this one's ready.


• professor Kim hands Professor Cain the device. Professor cain stands up, eyeing the headpiece. He smiles.


• CAIN
• Lets try it.


• KIM
• Sure.


• Professor Cain disconnects the old headpiece and replaces it with the new one. He puts the CPU back together quickly and turns the computer on. He looks at Kim, who then nods and carries the old headpiece to another computer.


• INT. LIVING ROOM-NIGHT


• A family chews popcorn, mezmerized by a movie on the television. ALEX sits on the computer, surfing the web. He is wearing a dark headpiece that connects to the back of his computer through wires.

The family laughs at a comical scene. Alex begins coughing. His head rolls back and he has a seizure.

• Alex's family flips on the lights and rushes to his side; he flops over on the ground, convulsing.


• MOTHER
• Call 9-1-1!


• INT. LAB-NIGHT


• Professor Kim and cain sit at desks connected to the computers. Professor Kim has a seizure; Cain quicjkly removes the headpiece. Kim is out of it, but alive. Professor Cain smiles.
  
• CAIN
• We did it, we did it!


• KIM
• How many people did we just hit.


• Cain laughs.


• CAIN
• Probably a quarter million!


• Kim looks frightened.


• CAIN
• What did you think I was going to do with it?


• INT. HOSPITAL CONFERENCE ROOM-NIGHT


• AGENT JAN, a man in his 40's, dressed in a suit sits at a conference table surrounded by nurses in scrubs and doctors. There are other executives dressed in crisp business suits. A dark headpiece sits in the center of the table.


• AGENT JAN
• We're as confused as you are.


• The doctors and nurses mumble to themselves and give each other worried looks, some put their heads down or shake them. Through a window several paramedics run several people through on gurnies. The patients shake and scream.


• AGENT JAN
• Our agency has never seen anything like this. It's a computer virus, and once it makes contact to human skin, it some how mutates into a human virus.


• DOCTOR
• What can we do to stop it?!


• They mumble to each other, louder now.


• AGENT JAN
• We're not sure. This virus wipes the mind clean, just like a compuer virus wiping out the hard drive of a computer.


• DOCTOR
• This is insane.


• The doctors and nurses look more worried now; one nurse cries. The nurse next to her hands her a tissue.


• Agent Jan looks around the room. he clears his throat.


• AGENT JAN
• The good news is we can trace the virus. But we're going to need some funding.


• DOCTOR
• You mean you don't know who is responsibile!


• The doctor stands up and paces the room.


• EXECUTIVE
How much do you need?

• DOCTOR
• We can discuss this later.


• Agent Jan stands up and pushes his chair in. He walks to the executive and hands her a card. He leaves.


• INT. HOTEL ROOM-MORNING


• Agent Jan sits on his bed, talking on his cell.


• AGENT JAN
• Yeah, of course they bought it.


• Professor Cain's voice can be heard on the other line.


• CAIN
• So no reports of people waking out of the coma early?


• AGENT JAN
• Nope, by the time they wake up and find out it's harmless we'll be laying beside a pool with a Gin and tonic.


• CAIN
• That's what I like hearing. Well, work them for every dime you can get.


• They hang up. A few minutes later Agent Jan pulls a device from his pocket and presses a button.


• INT. LAB-MORNING


• Professor Cain and Kim roll on the floor into seizures.


• FADE TO BLACK

83. Lights - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. BALCONY - NIGHT


• AMBER and MIKE stand next to each other on the apartment balcony, staring out over their neighborhood, admiring the lights of LA spread around them.


• The towers of downtown are clearly visible in the distance.


• Palm trees rise far above, rustling in the warm breeze.


• Amber looks back into the apartment.


• It is bare, moving boxes piled along one of its walls.


• Mike sits down on the cement floor of the balcony, peering out of the rails.


• He pulls his knees up to his chest.


• A blood-red moon is rising.


• AMBER
• That's crazy, every time I look back, the moon is higher, it's moving so fast, but I can't see it's moving...it's so weird, I stare and stare, and then suddenly realize that it's higher.


• She speaks quietly, almost to herself.


• Mike nods, still staring through the railings.


• MIKE
• What are we going to do?


• AMBER
• I don't know.


• Amber looks back into the apartment, looking at the eviction notice stuck to the glass doors leading into the now empty bedroom.


• MIKE
• I'm sorry.


• AMBER
• We'll be ok babe.


• MIKE
• How do you know that?


• AMBER
• I don't but, I do.


• MIKE
• Uh...


• Amber sits down next to Mike, scooting in towards him.


• AMBER
• I'm going to miss this view. It's one of my favorite things about the place.


• Their shoulders touch and Mike relaxes, shoulders shifting down as he exhales.


• MIKE
• Well, we're together...we can survive anything together, right?


• She leans onto his shoulder.


• The bloody moon is rising past the palm trees.


• AMBER
• Look.


• Fireflies dance around the railing, backlit in orange by the moon.


• MIKE
• Ohhh.


• She rests her head on his shoulder and they watch, lost in the magic.


• FADE TO BLACK.

68. Schooling Bradly-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. BED ROOM-MORNING


• Bradly shoots out of bed to the ring of the alarm clock.


• He hastily gets dressed and starts yelling.


• BRADLY
• Did you get make coffe yet Mandy?


• No response.


• BRADLY
• How many times do I have to remind you!


• VOICE OFFSCREEN
• Get your own coffee.


• Bradly storms into the kitchen half dressed and with his fist raised. Upon upon entering he sees himself.


• He stands there staring at himself, there is a bruise under the eye of his replica.


• BRADLY 2(female voice)
• Can't you do anything yourself for once? I work to ya know.


• Bradly shakes his head and blinks his eyes.


• He runs out of the house and drives off in his car.


• INT. LOBBY ENTRANCE-MORNING


• Bradly, groggy from his lack of morning coffee fumbles through his pocket s and finally pulls out a small, white card. he slides it through the sensor and the door opens.


• INT. LOBBY-MORNING


• Bradly steps into the lobby. The secratary is himself, dressed in a business skirt.


• BRADLY 3 (female voice)
• Don't even ask me about coffee. I'm sick of being your slave.


• Bradly is silent, staring at himself.


• BRADLY
• What the hell is going on here?


• Bradly 3 gives Brad an ackward look. Bradly walks to the call center.


• INT. CALL CENTER-MORNING


• Bradly rushes to his cubicle. He dives into the chair and pulls out his cell phone. He presses a button on the phone and peeks his head over the cubicle wall.


• There is no answer; he curses. A hand taps him on the shoulder.


• He turns around and sees himself wearing a tag that reads: Gary Lockwood, Supervisor.


• BRADLY 4 (Bradley's voice)
• We're going to need to talk. None of these spreadsheets match last weeks logs. And some of the other members of the team have been complaining about your attitude.


• Bradly screams, and jumps up from his chair. People stop and stare, all Bradly. He sees them and dashes for the door. It's locked. He nervously fumbles for his card, and finally pulls it out, but there is no sensor on the door.


• Bradly turns around to see a large group of his replicas walking towards him, stone faced.


• Bradly screams and pounds on the door; the crowd pushes in closer only a few feet from him.


• Bradly screams louder as the push in against him, calling his name repeatedely. They use their fists on his back and head, beating him to the ground and continually calling his name like zombies. He falls to the ground and tries to shield himself.


• INT. BED ROOM-MORNING


• Bradly wakes up in a sweat. He rubs his eyes and shuts off the alarm clock. he slowly gets dressed and wanders into the kitchen.


• INT. KITCHEN-MORNING


• Bradly walks past Mandy, and pecks her on the cheek. There is a bruise under her eye. He pulls coffee filters out of a cabinet.


• Mandy jumps up from the table, and grabs the filter from Bradly, and places it inside the coffee maker.


• MANDY
• Sorry honey, I woke up late. I won't let it happen again.


• Bradly's eyes tear; he truns to his wife to give her a kiss but she flinches.


• BRADLY
• Never again.


• Mandy stares at Bradly.


• BRADLY
• No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.


• FADE TO BLACK

82. Invisble - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. STREET CORNER - DAY


• ALANA leans against the wall of the shop at the street corner.


• She wears dirty jeans and worn boots with little bits of newspaper stuffed into the soles, temporarily patching holes.


• Long stringy dreads drift down her face and back, her eyes holding onto one last spark of hope.


• She holds a cardboard sign, a dirty and heartbreaking SOS.


• It reads "Please help, I'm lost, I just need enough money for food."


• A small cap lies at her feet, like an opening mouth waiting to be fed.


• People pass her, just another uncomfortable bump in a busy day.


• She sits silent, head down, occasionally looking up.


• A WELL-DRESSED MAN approaches, and she focuses on him.


• ALANA
• Please...


• Her voice comes out in a whisper,and she clears her throat to speak louder, but the man is long gone.


• The crowds speed into blurs passing Alana without ever seeing her as the day travels on.


• EXT. STREET CORNER - EVENING


• The day speeds into night, and the people slow, blur returning to the slow footsteps of friends heading for their favorite bars.


• Alana sits, empty hat next to her, waiting.


• MATT's group passes her, and he stops, seeing her..


• She feels his eyes, but doesn't care to look up.


• He slips away from the group, and they continue on.


• He walks back to her, digging in his pockets for some kind of change.


• MATT
• I'm sorry, I don't have anything.


• He stops, and sees her eyes.


• He stands frozen.


• Then he slowly moves to the wall, and sits down next to her.


• They sit, as crowds pass them by, becoming blurs, leaving only the two of them visible.


• FADE TO BLACK.

81. Voiceless - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT


• The massive ballroom is filled with extravagantly-dressed couples.


• Several large chandeliers float above the room, motors barely audible as they hover mid-air.


• A band plays relaxing jazz tunes as laughter and the tinkling of silverware fill the room. A gen-mod singer, her face a slight blue with faint silver tattoos that shimmer in the spotlight, sings softly, and the tiny mics positioned carefully around the stage carry her voice.


• Attendants move smoothly across the room, every motion an intricate piece in a ballet of footsteps as they carefully serve their patrons.


• SENATOR PETER HAMER, a dignified-looking man, steps onto the small stage around which the many tables are grouped and clears his throat.


• The room quiets and attention focuses on his gentle baritone.


• HAMER
• I'm not one for long introductions, so I'm going to cut straight to the chase. We're here to celebrate the completion of Project Hope. A century in the making, ladies and gentlemen, a grand idea designed by our forefathers in the mid twenty-first century.


• INT. HOLDING CELL #2632 - NIGHT


• Long rows of people dressed in gray clothing hang, suspended in neat metal racks that rise high above the floor.


• The massive room is dark, with several floating security lights illuminating the walkways between the 60 ft hight metal frames.


• The people suspended from the racks are connected to glowing wires and tubes.


• They seem frozen, only jerking occasionally.


• HAMER (VO)
• We've solved our crime problems, placing those dangerous to our society in rehabilitation camps, specially crafted to reeducate and re-integrate them into normal society.


• FIONA hangs from a rack close to the edge of the room.


• She jerks, eyes opening for an instant in unseeing terror, mouth opening to scream without sound.


• HAMER (VO)
• We've place less dangerous, but subversive elements in special halfway neighborhoods for re-integration training, and the TruID system is now fully operational, providing for immediate reaction to crime, and let me state Ladies and Gentlemen, it's an amazing deterrent.


• Fiona's eyes open again, and this time she's awake.


• She is still for a moment as she gets her bearings, then begins pulling away the wires, eyes rolling back in pain as she frees herself, her arms still restricted by metal cuffs.


• The restraints around her arms are jagged at the seams where they have been carefully filed loose - she pushes at them, and they swing open.


• HAMER (VO)
• Those genetically unfit have been provided their own living zones, where they can live in peace, unmolested and where they cannot abuse our gentle society.


• Fiona pulls herself away from a large umbilical cord and begins climbing down the frame.


• As she nears the ground, a hand reaches out and grabs her wrist.


• She flinches, then recovers her balance.


• EYES open, and a face pulls forward out of darkness.


• MELISSA
• Don't do it. Please.


• FIONA
• And do what, go back, pretend nothing is wrong? Pretend this hasn't happened to us?


• MELISSA
• They'll re-integrate us, they will. It won't be long, we'll have our lives back, and it'll be better than before.


• FIONA
• You know that's not true. Every day on the work lines, and then wired to the feeding machines. How do you make an unwanted population disappear, and cheaply? Look around.


• MELISSA
• Please.


• FIONA
• Don't ever forget I love you.


• She touches Melissa's hand, then continues climbing down.


• INT. THE UNDERCITY - NIGHT


• HAMER (VO)
• But we will give those who are now unfit a chance at a new life. I've seen their living zones. Beautiful neighborhoods, manicured parks...


• Fiona pulls herself through the pipework system that traces a network under the city.


• She runs through a cavern filled with abandoned machinery, before finding another tunnel and squeezing through.


• INT. GRAND BALLROOM - NIGHT


• HAMER
• Ladies and Gentlemen, we are finally on the path our ancestors struggled to find. We have built a perfect society. What is left, but the stars?


• The room erupts into cheers, dignified men and women yelling and cheering, lost in the moment.


• A side door opens, but no one notices Fiona slip past until it is too late, and she is standing on the stage.


• The cheering falters, and Hamer blinks.


• She stands silent for a moment, her cropped hair glistening with sweat, her filthy body and clothing causing those near her to pull back.


• FIONA
• There are no living zones. Not the ones you picture. There is only darkness. They took us away from our homes, we, who are unfit for society. The subversives, the genetically unfit, the criminals. There is no re-integration. We are your caged secrets. Look! No manicured lawns, just endless days of slavery and nights of hanging by feed tubes eating the slop of your perfect society. Look at me. Am I not one of you, am I not a human?


• Hamer recovers.


• He searches his pockets in a panic.


• FIONA
• Please, save us. Is the luxury and comfort worth this? Is the safety worth this?


• She pulls back her sleeve, revealing a bar code that runs down her arm.


• People gasp.


• She raises a fist above her head.


• FIONA
• Serve justice. Speak for the voiceless, do not forget us.


• Hamer finds what he is looking for, a small wand, and presses it.


• Fiona screams in pain.


• She jerks, falling onto the floor.


• Guards swarm the stage, pulling her away, her fist still raised, and then she is gone, through the same door through which she slipped.


• There is a stillness in the room, a long painful silence.


• Hamer slips back to the front of the room.


• HAMER
• Well, now...you've just seen how effective the TruID system is. Marvelous isn't it? It's just part of why we've reached perfection. We'll take good care of her, don't you worry. And who knows? You might see her walking the streets of this city in a few years, ready to be a functioning member of our society.


• He wipes at his brow, playfully.


• HAMER
• Whew! Who needs a drink?


• The audience chuckles appreciatively, relief beginning to show on faces.


• HAMER
• A toast! To the perfect society.


• THE ATTENDEES
• A perfect society!


• FADE TO BLACK.

80. Gadfly - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. CITY STREET - DAY


• Crowds of people move quickly past PROPHET JONAS, a ragged man standing on a dirty crate.


• They try to ignore him.


• Those who must wait next to him while they wait to cross the street shift uncomfortably.


• PROPHET JONAS
• I have a word from the Lord. Repent! Feed the poor! Remember the forgotten.


• No one stops to listen as he pleads.


• PROPHET JONAS
• You've taken advantage of the invisible, you've played at being religious, but you drip with hate. You preyed on those with no voice. You drove the silent from their homes for your condos, you robbed the sick of their savings and now refuse to treat their ills. You shunned those that were different and betrayed those who trusted in you. This is the word of the Lord. Repent!


• A woman stops, stares up at him with disgust, and walks away shaking her head.


• PROPHET JONAS
• There is a disaster coming, you must repent, turn away and serve those you have neglected. Comfort the...


• There is a loud bang, and the prophet falls, clutching his chest.


• He falls to the ground, and the gunman slips away into the crowd.


• People continue to flow past, stepping over his body, ignoring him. Some look relieved.


• They flow past his body, trying to ignore it.


• The continue to flow past him, long minutes passing.


• A slow rumble starts at one end of the street, causing people to sop, searching for the source of the sound.


• The rumble grows louder, and the ground shifts, the tears open as an earthquake begins to shift the plates below the city.


• Buildings crumble, fire hydrants burst, and fans flame out across the city.


• The streets tear themselves apart, but a small patch is perfectly preserved; the patch on which the prophet's body lies, his dead hand grasping a sign with a single word, "Repent!"


• FADE TO BLACK.

67. Is God Bored?-Eric




• Is God bored? With all due respect. I've wrestled with this idea for several years and it seems no matter how I spin it, I can only come up with the conclusion that God has to be one really bored ethereal entity. With all due respect.
  
  I've discussed this philosophical question with some of my friends, and have decided that if anyone were completely prescient, viewing the universe as a play or movie that has been seen a trillion times, it would be really damned boring.
  
  Now, some of you might argue, sure he might be bored if he weren't active, but God's nature is active. He's constantly designing different worlds perhaps, creating unimaginable life forms, and so on and so on.
  
  This is a really good argument; he occupies himself. This only goes so far though; he already knows what he's going to create and how it will evolve and scatter like a web slowly spreading out.
  
  The other argument is that he "choses" not to see the outcome of everything, that he can somehow turn on and off his prescience at will like a light switch. This argument doesn't have much teeth. First of all, it's akin to the argument of whether God can make a rock he cannot lift. Furthermore, if he choses to flip this precognitive switch off, then how will he know when important things need attention, for example, the plan of redemption. Is there some kind of warning device that alerts him when something has potentially disasterous consequences before he creates it? He says himself, 'Even the hairs on your head are numbered' and that he knew us before we were born.
  
  So, there are no more surprises left for God. And this isn't your garden variety boredom; this is the infinite abyss of bordeom.
  
  Is it blasphemy to feel sorry for our Creator? Everyone is always bitching about him, at him, and generally disbelieving him and he has no new surprises. I'll admit that I've pondered the idea that perhaps because of this infinit boredom that he sometimes has bouts of anger, perhaps that he is even bipolar. But I don't want to project human conditions on to God. Still, it makes me wonder.
  

79. A Few More Bits of Haiku - Leslie

• 1.
  Spin away my fear
  Through my personal rain clouds
  Falling into peace.


• 2.
  We sank into Joy.
  Drifting past rational cares
  We'll just watch fireflies.


• 3.
  She stepped into light
  Smiling up at private jokes
  Contemplating stars.

78. Little Bits of Haiku - Leslie

• 1.
  Dark streets drink starlight
  Soaking up the city's thoughts.
  She passes, unseen.


• 2.
  Jumping through ripples,
  Down down ancient hallways,
  Soft meditations.


• 3.
  Follow Alice down
  Enter dead dreams, dark tunnels
  Watch out for rabbits.