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.

77. Day 1 - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. FIRST CLASS CARRIAGE - MORNING


• Light leaks in through window shades, throwing beams of light across ERIC and AMELIA's blanket-wrapped bodies.


• They curve together, his arm wrapped around her waist.


• The sound of the train rumbles gently away, a constant, friendly growl dominating the background noise.


• Eric stirs and strokes Amelia's hair.


• He loses himself in the repetition.


• She blinks awake, yawns, then turns, half-facing him.


• ERIC
• Morning Mee.


• AMELIA
• Mmmm.


• ERIC
• One day.


• AMELIA
• Do you think we'll ever hate each other?


• ERIC
• No. Sometimes. I hope not.


• AMELIA
• I think we will, but I trust us to figure it out when we get there. We'll grow past it.


• ERIC
• My optimist.


• She grins.


• AMELIA
• Wow.


• Eric nods.


• She turns completely, facing him, their eyes inches away from each others.


• AMELIA
• Are you ready for this?


• ERIC
• Are you?


• AMELIA
• No, but I think we are.


• He kisses her.


• ERIC
• My optimist. We're on this crazy journey aren't we?


• AMELIA
• Yeah, babe. I'm scared too.


• He pulls her close.


• ERIC
• Mrs. O'Grady.


• AMELIA
• Mr. O'Grady.


• Their eyelashes touch, and then they embrace, holding each other tightly.


• FADE TO BLACK.

76. Even More Haiku - Leslie

• 1.
  Sailing her ocean
  A sea of violet and lace
  Lost in her doldrums.


• 2.
  She bends, windblown child
  Lost in riddles and mazes
  Mental refugee.


• 3.
  World traveler, he.
  Citizen of nowhere, he.
  Ever lost yet found.


• 4.
  We traveled together
  Across the speckled night sky.
  Nomads and lovers.


• 5.
  She dances with the wind
  Journeys to ancient galaxies
  Star-eyed traveller.

75. Her Lines - Leslie

• Her lines are the curve of my earth.
  A gently flowing embrace.
  Her eyes, my oceans; her breasts, my mountains.
  Her lines are the curve.
  A whispered laugh.
  Her fingers, my fjords; her hair, my sky.
  Her lines are.
  A poem read softly.
  Her lips, my hills; her arms, my streams.
  Her lines.
  A cathedral in a desert.
  Her stomach, my meadows, her legs, my rivers.
  Her.
  

74. Judge, Jury - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. MAIN STREET - LATE AFTERNOON


• HAROLD K. POWERS stands on the sidewalk, tapping his foot impatiently.


• He sees his dark sedan drive to the corner and let's out a sigh.


• The car pulls to curb.


• The DRIVER hops out of the car, cap pulled low, and opens the back door.


• Harold steps into the car, giving the driver a meaningful glare.


• He pauses, seeing the man's face; it seems unusually pale.


• The door slams, and the driver re-enters the front seat.


• They begin driving winding along side streets to avoid the traffic clogging the city's main arteries.


• EXT. INDUSTRIAL LOT - LATE AFTERNOON


• The car pulls into an empty industrial lot and stops.


• INT. CAR - CONTINUOUS


• HAROLD
• Hey! Why are we stopping here.


• The door opens and the driver sticks his head in the back, his hat is off, revealing skin painted white and twisted clown eye drawn onto his face.


• Harold recoils.


• The driver pulls Harold from the car with ease, despite Harold's struggling.


• EXT. INDUSTRIAL LOT - CONTINUOUS


• HAROLD
• Help! Help!


• The driver flips Harold into a choke-hold, and presses Harold's neck gently.


• Harold's eyes roll, and he slumps.


• INT. WAREHOUSE COURTROOM - INDETERMINATE


• Harold jerks, slowly waking up.


• He is bound to a chair.


• As his eyes adjusts, he sees that his is surrounded by a thick circle of people in demented clown makeup.


• He recoils.


• A WOMAN steps from the crowd.


• Her short, spiky hair is bleached, tipped in dark red.


• Her face is painted half white, half black, with black and white swirls crisscrossing into the halves. Her dark red lips carry a painted sneer, accentuating their actual sardonic curl.


• She wears a flowing dress and a dark corset.


• She circles his chair, studying him.


• Harold attempts to mimic her sneer, playing at being unafraid.


• HAROLD
• And who are you?


• She smiles.


• MS. A
• You can call me Ms. A. I'll be your host this evening.


• She stares at him, and he wilts.


• HAROLD
• Look, why are you doing this? I can pay whatever you want, what do you want?


• The circle moves in tighter, menacing.


• HAROLD
• Please, please, I'll pay however much you want?


• MS. A
• I'd like my family back.


• HAROLD
• Excuse me?


• MS. A
• In 1987, you invested in Myers Petrochemicals. They flooded my little town with chemicals. The river stank from the rotting fish. We fought and fought, but you never listened. And then one by one, my parents, my siblings began to die, cancer, infections, diseases the doctors had no names for. And I am the only one who has escaped to tell you.


• A MAN steps forward.


• A beret covers his dark curly hair.


• His face is painted pure white, and as he looks up, Harold sees that his eyes are pure white as well, his pupils covered by white contacts. His lips, painted black, stand out in stark contrast.


• MR. RAINBOW
• I'm Mr. Rainbow.


• HAROLD
• Rainbow?


• Mr. Rainbow's expression doesn't change.


• MR. RAINBOW
• I like irony.


• He leans closer and Harold pushes back against the chair.


• MR. RAINBOW
• In 1994, your company closed it's factory in Toledo, declaring bankruptcy, robbing thousands of workers of their pensions. Half a year later, the company would miraculously resurrect, at least that's what the Wall Street Journal thought. You moved all your factories to China, blinking at abuse and the loss of dignity of the workers there, because you saved millions on their slave labor. My father never recovered from losing his job and pension. He killed himself. My mother disappeared one night; I raised my siblings. I am the only one who has escaped to tell you.


• He steps back and a shorter WOMAN comes forward.


• 3
• I am 3.


• 3 speaks in the beautifully flowing tones of Columbia.


• She walks with a slight limp.


• She wears a skirt, with fishnet stockings crisscrossing down her legs to black boots.


• Her black hair is tied into two buns held together by chopsticks.


• Her graphic tee is covered with strange symbols splashed in red.


• Only half of her face is painted, in the style of a beautiful venetian mask, the lips warped into a devilish curve.


• The other half of her face is badly scarred.


• Harold can't look at her and tries to focus on the right side of her face or the floor.


• 3 steps close to him.


• She takes his chin and pulls it up.


• 3
• Look at me.


• He flinches, but she holds firm.


• 3
• In 1993, the private security firm you were the chairman of was sent to Columbia to help train the military to fight FARC. My father wrote for a socialist newspaper. They came to our house one day; they tortured my father to death, but not before they had raped my mother and I in front of him. They shot my mother and they tortured me. I was five. Look at me. You did this. And I am the only one who has escaped to tell you.


• Another woman steps forward.


• HAROLD
• Please, no more.


• MS. A
• You have done this. Every one of these stories hold a pain you inflicted. We are your judge and jury, and we find you guilty. You've been weighed. You are wanting.


• HAROLD
• What are you going to do to me?


• 3 steps forward, Harold pulls back.


• 3
• Forgive you.


• MS. A
• We forgive you.


• They step back into the shadows, disappearing.


• Harold sits alone, in the circle of light.


• He twists in the chair, and finds the ropes have been loosened.


• He lifts his hands, and watches the rope slide away from his wrist.


• FADE TO BLACK.

73. Flash - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. WILSHIRE BLVD - NIGHT


• JEREMY rides his bike slowly down the street, wobbling every so often as he slows to stare at the large black box he clutches in his left hand.


• He grins at the box, unaware of the squad car in front of him.


• An OFFICER looks out the window of the car and spots the black box.


• OFFICER MUNEZ
• Gun!


• His partner jumps outside of the car, gun drawn.


• OFFICER MUNEZ
• Kid! Stop.


• Jeremy looks up and hits the breaks, but keeps going forwardl; he panics and tries to speed up.


• Munez and his partner fire.


• Jeremy falls, clutching the box.


• Officer Munez approaches carefully, gun drawn.


• He kneels over Jeremy's bloody body.


• He sees the black box.


• OFFICER MUNEZ
• Oh God.


• He carefully pulls the top of the box off, revealing a single, long-stemmed blood-orange daisy with a note tied around the stem.


• He buries his face in his hands.


• OFFICER MUNEZ
• God.


• EXT. WILSHIRE BLVD - LATER


• Cameras flash as the crime scene team surrounds Jeremy's body.


• A GLOVED HAND slowly pulls the rose from the box.


• A camera flashes.


• INT. MARIA AND JOHN'S FLOWER CREATIONS - DAY


• Jeremy pores over the selection of daisies, and finally picks the one he likes.


• The store keeper starts to box it.


• JEREMY
• Wait, please.


• He pulls small note from his pocket and wraps it around the stem.


• The store keeper places the flower and note in a black box.


• EXT. WILSHIRE BLVD - NIGHT


• A camera flashes and an INVESTIGATOR pulls an intricately twisted piece of wire with cowry shell in the center from Jeremy's pocket.


• A camera flashes.


• EXT. VENICE BEACH - DAY


• Jeremy runs in the sand, trying to catch ANGEL.


• She never faces us, her long hair wrapping around her face and back.


• Something catchers her eye, and she stops, kneeling in the sand.


• She pulls a cowry shell trapped in some wire from the sand, and begins reshaping the wire.


• EXT. WILSHIRE BLVD - NIGHT


• Cameras flash around the scene, and the coroner waits above the body.


• An investigator pulls the blood-spattered bike up from the ground.


• A camera flashes.


• EXT. BEVERLY HILLS - DAY


• Angel and Jeremy race their bikes along the sidwalks of Beverly Hills.


• Patrons at roadside cafes glance nervously at the black kids racing along the streets.


• Jeremy catches their looks and makes a face at Angel.


• She laughs, and he grins, caught up in her joy.


• He slams into the side of the table, and his pantsleg rips.


• Her laughter rings out again.


• EXT. WILSHIRE BLVD - NIGHT


• The zipping of a body bag becomes the focal point of the crime scene for a moment, sirens seeming to quiet for a moment in respect.


• Jeremy's body is placed on a gurney, and wheeled past Officer Munez, who sits at the corner of a curb, still clutching his head.


• A camera flashes.


• FADE TO BLACK.

66. Spitz ' er Swallow?-Eric




• Okay, I'm pissed. I'll just get to the point. I'm pissed because someone spent $1,000 an hour on a prostitute, sometimes $4,000 a pop. I've never owned a car worth more than $4,000. My car probably had less miles on it, but still!
  
  What's this chick doing that's worth that much money? How much better can a blowjob really get? Is there some kind of sexual strata out there that I'm unaware of? Is she a Hindu godess with four arms or something? If I were in jail with this cat, I'd so beat the shit out of him while I was thinking about all the unemployed and starving families out there. Yeah, his wife looks meh, but so what, I'm sure he could have found a $200 hooker that would have sufficed. I'm sure she would have done all the same things, maybe even more.
  
  That guy is killing me. And speaking of killing me, I take my previous comment back about beating the shit out of him. If he can afford to spend eighty grand on courtesans then he could put out a hit on me.
  
  It might just be me, but I think there's something wrong when a woman from California spends $100,000 to have her dog cloned in Korea because she loves it so much.
  
  In the end, I know, I know, it's their money. Whether they earned it through our tax dollars or not they have the right to do with it what they want. I know, I know. But I can still bitch. Okay, I'm done.
  

72. Lives, Observed (or Out of Context) - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• Note: In the following, the CAMERA is a silent character. The film is intended took take place in a single fluid shot.


• EXT. CITY SIDEWALK - DAY


• ALYS balances on the edge of the sidewalk, dangerously close to the street.


• She wears paint splattered jeans, a graphic tee, and worn vegan shoes.


• Her nose ring glistens in the sun.


• She turns to CAMERA.


• She comes closer and puts a finger to her lips.


• ALYS
• Listen.


• She begins walking and Camera follows.


• Two WELL-DRESSED WOMEN walk towards them on the sidewalk.


• WELL-DRESSED WOMAN 1
• ...and we slept on cots, you know, just on the floor.


• WELL-DRESSED WOMAN 2
• Yeah, you'd just lay them out when it got too hot...


• Their voices fade and blend into the a FRAZZLED FATHER leaning down to his seven year old DAUGHTER who clutches his hand tightly.


• FRAZZLED FATHER
• Mia, please be careful, I don't need you busting open another... Mia!


• Alys and Camera move past them, and Alys turns to admire the colorful cloth in the windows of the fabric stores lining the sidewalk.


• TWO MEN, one in skinny jeans and a busy graphic tee, the other in baggy jeans and an undershirt walks slowly past Alys and Camera.


• MAN IN SKINNY JEANS
• Oh honey! Sometimes I just want to curl up with the internet and turn his pages. Mmmm.


• Alys grins at camera as the couple fade out of earshot.


• A HOMELESS MAN sits under a large storefront window and holds a large, dirty cardboard sign which reads "Withdrawing in disgust is not the same thing as apathy."


• Alys stands for a long moment looking at the sign.


• The homeless man smiles and hands her a quarter, she grins back and curtsies.


• Alys waves camera on and they cross the street.


• A MAN ON A CELL walks in front of them, speaking quietly


• MAN ON CELL
• May, May? It's James. Is that really you? Yes, yes. I love you so much. No, please don't say that, I don't blame you at all. It's alright. I've found you now.


• Alys turns to Camera one last time, and nods, solemn.


• She turns, and walks into a crowd, as Camera stands, watching her disappear.


• FADE TO BLACK.

71. Separate But Equal - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. LA DOLCE AMOR - EVENING


• BRIDGET, LEE, EVELYN, SARAH, and MIA sit around a table in the candle-lit, cozy Italian bistro.


• All the women are in their middle ages, and are from a cross-section of races.


• Bridget, a white woman, is in the middle of a passionate monologue.


• BRIDGET
• My city, it was a small city near Capetown, used to be so beautiful. Now, it's just a hub for thieves, and drug dealers and prostitutes. They say it's one of the worst cities in the world to live. Not as bad as Johannesburg, but bad.


• The women nod sympathetically.


• Mia, a woman with golden-brown skin and graying hair pulled back into a long ponytail eats her salad carefully, listening closely.


• BRIDGET
• They promised all these wonderful things they couldn't actually carry out. And now look; it's a society in ruins. AIDS all over the place. It wasn't like this before. Before, there was cultural pride. Even at my school, a white school, we celebrated all the different cultures around us. It was a cultural paradise, bringing in workers from all over Africa. And everyone, everyone made a good, living wage. Now? Now it's like here in America, no identity...but it's even worse, just criminals.


• She pauses to take a drink.


• BRIDGET
• Apartheid helped keep the cultures distinct, it helped us know and appreciate each other. And now? Now my best friend, she still lives their you know, my best friend tells me that the blacks want to bring the white government back into power. It's the ANC who run things know...they're communists, really.


• Some of them women shift uncomfortably, eying Mia to catch her reaction.


• Bridget notices.


• BRIDGET
• Oh it's fine, this doesn't bother you does it Mia? You're an American, it's different here anyway.


• Mia nods slightly, and some of the women look relieved.


• BRIDGET
• Now I'm upset, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put a damper on the evening.


• The other women shake their heads, murmuring denials of discomfort.


• BRIDGET
• I've got to visit the little-girls room.


• She arranges her napkin, pushing her chair back.


• Mia looks at her, then back to the table.


• Evelyn glances at her with worried anticipation.


• Mia looks around for a moment, then speaks as Bridget stands.


• MIA
• My father was in the ANC. The whites tortured and killed him for fighting a system he felt was unjust. Back in the good old days.


• The women gape at her.


• She stands, leaving her salad unfinished, and quietly leaves the restaurant.


• FADE TO BLACK.

70. Rabbit Holes - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. CITY SIDEWALK- DAY


• EMILIA walks slowly down the sidewalk, her dark eyes scanning her surroundings with a insatiable curiosity.


• Her skirt, sewed together from ragged dark red, brown, and black scarves ends jaggedly above her calves, revealing dark stockings which end in her black boots.


• She wears a sleeveless pseudo-corset and a small bowler hat. Dark bangs poke out from the hat, trailing down her cheek.


• She moves gracefully, the skirt rippling around her as she walks, carefully avoiding the sidewalk cracks in a childhood game that's never grown old.


• She tips her hat at an older couple and they stare at her as she glides past.


• Heavily armed officers in dark uniforms watch the street closely, but are distracted for a long moment by the force of her personality.


• She tilts her head, staring into the sun, and smiles, as the rays hit her face.


• She passes a newspaper vendor, and heads turn as she passes, as if she reflects the glow of the sun onto the onlookers.


• Freckles dot her nose and cheeks and seem to come alive in the sunlight.


• LANCE stands by the newspaper vendor, scanning the magazine titles when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Emilia pass.


• He spins, his sneakers squeaking, and looks at her, transfixed.


• She turns, looks straight at him, and smilingly cocks her eyebrow.


• She turns completely around, walking backwards away from him, and holds his gaze, then whips back around.


• Lance considers for a moment, then pursues.


• She turns a corner, and he follows, pushing through the people around him, fighting to keep her in sight.


• She comes to a stop by a small door next to a shop, her skirt swishing around her legs.


• She punches quickly at a keypad next to the door and slips inside, turning one last time to flash her enticing smile at Lance.


• He races to get to the door but it slams shut as he reaches it, sealing with an unfriendly click.


• Lance stops short and stares at the door.


• He touches the door, tapping the door in a rhythm, the stops. It swings open.


• He blinks, then walks in.


• A banner pops up that reads "Congratulations, You've Found the Resistance, You Win!"


• EXT. LANCE'S BEDROOM - DAY


• Lance pulls off a virtual reality headset, and punches the air.


• LANCE
• Yes! Finally!


• He stands, stretching, and walks to the window to pull the curtains shot.


• He is in an old blue t-shirt advertising some obscure psychiatric drug and plaid pajama bottoms.


• He stops short and stares out of the window.


• Emilia stands under the streetlight, looking into his window.


• He blinks, rubbing his eyes.


• LANCE
• Residual image.


• He looks again, she is still there.


• EXT. LANCE'S APARTMENT - EVENING


• Lance runs outside, rushes to the lamp post, his flip flops slapping against the pavement.


• Emilia looks at him, studying his face.


• LANCE
• You're not...you can't be...you...


• He pulls his gaze away from her and points up at his window, helplessly.


• EMILIA
• It all gets much deeper from here on. Your choice...want to enter the wardrobe?


• LANCE
• What?


• EMILIA
• Cross the looking glass?


• LANCE
• You mean...?


• He is still pointing at his window.


• Emilia grins at him, reassuringly.


• EMILIA
• Hi, I'll be your Alice tonight. You want to go on?


• Lance looks at her, trying to focus.


• He works on concentrating, and finally pulls his thoughts together.


• LANCE
• Ok, yeah. Let's shift my paradigms, alter my reality...sorry, tired.


• EMILIA
• Excellent.


• She begins walking and waves him on.


• They walk several feet down the sidewalk and stop in front of a door identical to the door in the game.


• She punches in the code and the door swings open.


• She holds it open for Lance.


• He pauses, then shuffles in, flip-flops slapping.


• She follows him, and the door closes.


• EMILIA
• Congratulations, you've found the Resistance.


• FADE TO BLACK.

69. Dialog - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE PORPOISE AND THE BEE BOOKSHOP - DAY


• REGGIE sits in one of the large, dark blue chairs scattered in between the tall shelves of the bookstore.


• He is enmeshed in a large winter jacket, and unruly tufts of hair poke out from underneath his knit cap.


• His feet rest comfortable on a small duffel bag at his feet.


• The screenplay for Kevin Smith's "Clerks" lies open on his lap. He stares down at it, intent on the words.


• AMY steps down from one of the rolling ladders near Reggie.


• Her rows of bracelets click as she lets go of the last rung.


• She touches the pendant hanging around her neck, and readjusts the kerchief around her head, which is doing a decent job keeping her unruly curls in place.


• She readjusts her name tag and stops, stealing a glance at Reggie's book.


• Reggie looks up from his reading.


• REGGIE
• Hey Ames.


• AMY
• What's up Reg?


• REGGIE
• Not a whole lot, just trying to wrap my head around Clerks.


• AMY
• Oh yeah? Still trying eh? Good luck.


• REGGIE
• Thanks. Hey, I have a somewhat random question.


• AMY
• Yeah?


• REGGIE
• If you had just a few minutes to live, what would you do? I mean, how'd you spend it?


• AMY
• Ah, one of those questions. Gun to my head? Pun intended. Hmmm. I think...I think I'd find someone to have a good conversation with...and then have it of course.


• REGGIE
• Well, why don't we do that now?


• AMY
• What, do you know something I don't? You're not psychic are you?


• REGGIE
• No, no.


• She sits in the empty chair next to him.


• AMY
• Ok then.


• She looks around, the store is filling up but the other workers seem to have it under control.


• REGGIE
• So what do you mean by a good conversation?


• AMY
• It depends...in this case, in "my last conversation on earth," I don't want deep. Don't get me wrong, I love going really deep, philosophizing, but these will be the last thing I say. I want to embrace the simple, remember good moments.


• REGGIE
• A good moment? Like?


• AMY
• I think, well, there's this moment. Wow, I haven't thought of this in years, it's one of those things that just disappears, and then pops up, one day, today.


• REGGIE
• Those are good moments.


• REGGIE
• Yeah. I was seven, and I was running through a field with this kid. I don't remember his name. How do people writing memoirs manage to remember the names of people they knew when they were three? No clue. But yeah, no name, but I can remember his face. He had this beautiful bronze skin, and curls, tumbling down all over the place. I thought he was gorgeous. And we went chasing after these butterflies, these wonderful blue and gold butterflies, and as I was running with him, I remember thinking that this is what it must be to be in love. Makes me wish I could go back there.


• Reggie studies her face.


• She looks up, shy.


• AMY
• Thank you.


• REGGIE
• I'm sorry.


• AMY
• What? Why?


• Reggie looks at his watch. It's 4:30. The store has gotten crowded.


• He looks at her, and she continues to stare at him, waiting.


• He opens his jacket, and pulls out a controller hooked to cables that run into the jacket and around his chest.


• He nods to her and presses the button at the top of the controller.
  


• There is a pause, and then a deafening explosion.


• FADE TO BLACK.

68. Alone - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE TABERNACLE - NIGHT


• The venue is packed with people as the band EDITH takes the stage.


• Audience members in the three balconies lean forward, some standing as the roar of the crowd builds from the floor and rises towards the ceiling..


• RIANNE stands near the stage, eyes closed as the screaming builds.


• She sways back and forth, the sound filling her.


• The DRUMMER raises his sticks.


• DRUMMER
• 1, 2, 3, 4!


• The beat grows louder.


• The LEAD GUITARIST crouches, and then his fingers fly across the strings, slapping and plucking.


• The RHYTHM and BASS kick in, and the SAXOPHONE wails, high above the layers of sound.


• The sound builds, weaving in and out, intertwining, and then explodes, leaving the audience reveling in the shock wave.


• Rianne rocks back and forth arms tight around her one moment, high in the air the next moment, dancing in her own way, wrapped in a wall of sound, surrounded by thousands and yet completely alone.


• She dances on, twirling, throwing in a rock-step here, spinning left there.


• INT. THE TABERNACLE - LATER


• The evening has worn on, and the crowd has thinned.


• Rianne keeps dancing as more and more people leave.


• The band finishes its set to tired cheering, and the crowd flows away, but Rianne dances on, to the music, now imagined.


• The band leaves, and only the cleaning crew is left, a lone man inside the massive room, sleepily pushing cups around the sticky floor with his large broom.


• Rianne slowly brings her arms down, and opens her eyes for the first time, surprised to be alone in the darkness.


• She blinks, her eyes adjusting to the dark, then quietly slips away.


• FADE TO BLACK.

67. Dissident - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. PUBLIC BATHROOM - DAY


• HANDS deftly pull a dark ski mask over thick dark hair.


• THE MASKED MAN looks at the bathroom mirror through the mask's eyeholes and adjusts the thick material with practiced movements.


• His dark gray eyes study the mirror, inspecting his own reflection.


• The man is dressed in a hoodie and dark cargo pants in contrast with the staid elegance of the bathroom in which he stand.


• INT. CITY HALL COUNCIL CHAMBER - DAY


• The large chamber buzzes with people wandering around, fashioning deals, gossiping, or just nervously waiting to present their cases before the council.


• The council sits at the front of the room around a u-shaped table.


• It is packed with laptops, piles of papers, and microphones.


• A pompous looking BUSINESSMAN approaches the podium, and clears his through. The sound crackles through the speakers.


• The doors at the back of the chamber slam open and the masked man rushes down the aisle, and shoves the businessman away.


• COUNCIL PRESIDENT
• Sir, please wait you turn.


• The businessman pushes back, indignant.


• MASKED MAN
• Mr. President, I hold you in contempt! This city is going down the tubes and you sit there worrying about how you're going to spend another 25 million dollars refining the tourist industry.


• COUNCIL PRESIDENT
• Sir, sir!


• The president raps his gavel.


• MASKED MAN
• What about the homeless? What about all those being thrown out of their homes? Are they not worthy of your time? I see how you hear their request and don't listen. I see you brush aside their needs.


• Security guards rush belatedly down the aisle and pull the man away.


• MASKED MAN
• Repent! Repent to your citizens. Respect your citizens!


• He is pulled out of the chamber.


• The guards push him out, and close the doors behind.


• The council president clears his throat and waves for the businessman to go on.


• The businessman straightens his tie.


• INT. CITY HALL COUNCIL HALLWAY - DAY


• The masked man walks quickly down an empty hallway.


• He moves with a steady grace as he pulls the hoodie off, revealing a slightly rumpled suit jacket.


• He pulls the cargo pants off with the clicking of buttons popping undone revealing neatly creased dark pants.


• He turns left and stops at a large door.


• INT. CITY HALL COUNCIL OFFICE - DAY


• The man pushes through it, and nods to the SECRETARY.


• She raises an eyebrow and pats her head.


• He touches his head and feels the mask.


• MASKED MAN
• Oh!


• He opens another door, entering a large office and pulls the mask from his face.


• He sits in the large chair, folds the clothing in his arms, putting them on the desk, then places his dirty tennis shoes on the desk, and grins.


• The name plate on the desk reads "Mayor Thomas Haines."


• His secretary sticks her head in.


• She surveys the room, looks disapprovingly at his shoes.


• SECRETARY
• Sir, you enjoy that far too much.


• He grins at her, pats the ski mask, and places it in his top drawer.


• FADE TO BLACK.

65. Tortured Artist-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. LOFT-SUNRISE


• Grady, a long haired, hippy type man paints at an easel. The first rays of the morning sun light his room a bruise purple an gold. He is painting a dreary landscape, dipping his brush and dabbing it on the canvas. He holds another long, wooden brush between his teeth while he paints.


• The half-painted landscape depicts a field with bundles of rolled hay. A defunct, gray backo sits off in the distance. Dark clouds roll in from a distance in the painting. He dabs his brush, and darkens the clouds even more.


• He takes the brush from between his teeth and dabs a perfect dab of clear mercury on the canvas. Slowly, he makes the final touches to the shower pouring from the cloud.


• He stands back, and sighs soft and long. He smiles. He begins painting a farmer with a straw hat.


• Outside it begins raining, dark thunder clouds roll in. He doesn't seem to pay any attention.


• After he is finished with the painting he lies down.


• We hear a knock on the door. Grady leans up on the couch, wiping the rheum from his eyes. He finally answers the door.


• The farmer is standing at his door, dripping wet with rain. It pours behind him. He takes off his straw hat.


• PAYTON
• Excuse me, ahem, sir.


• GRADY
You don't like my new piece?

• Payton holds his hat to his chest in silence. Finally he speaks.


• PAYTON
• No sir. No, I mean yes. Yes sir. I like it.


• GRADY
• It's a bit too much, isn't it?


• Payton smiles uncomfortably, and slowly nods.


• GRADY
• Don't worry, I'll take care of it.


• Payton smiles, and bows quickly, then leaves. Grady releases a soft sigh and closes the door. He walks back to the canvas and starts painting.


• GRADY
• I can't make anyone happy. This guy wants sunshine, the other guy wants rain. It's starting to drive me insanse. Ah, well I took the job.


• Grady begins painting a sunny landscape on a new canvas. The clouds roll away outside, and the sun starts lighting up his loft.


• FADE TO BLACK

64. Heist (rpg adventure)-Eric




• Barry Gray, a super-villain who works as a public defender is planning a bank heist in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida at PIC Credit Union. The players in the role-playing adventure are not privvy to this. In fact, Barry Gray has the reputation of an upstanding citizen with no criminal record. He is a nice family man. Barry has called in the group because he has heard good things about them, and wants them to investigate Tori Branch, the manager of PIC Credit Union.
  
  Barry Gray asks the group to investigate her under the false pretense that she is involved in a kidnapping and ransom case he has with a current client. The ransom case involves a semi-wealthy real estate owner's son, Tony Kramer. The father, Ronald kramer, is supposedely being charged with aiding the conspiracy to extort ransom money from the kidnapping of his son.
  
  Barry says he's representing the father (which is a lie) and that Tori Branch may hold the key to his freedom (another lie). He says, if the FBI have a good reason to investigate her they will. Barry explains that if enough evidence is found against her, that it will give him the chance to testify against her as the mastermind, reducing Ronald Kramer's sentence.
  
  Although some parts of the story are true and can be verified from the news, the rest about Tori is a lie. Tori Branch has absolutely nothing to do with the case. She doesn't even know who Ronald Kramer is except from the local news and neither does Barry except what he's heard from his lawyer buddies. Barry just needs a reason to convince the group to hack her computer, spy on her, search her apartment for records, etc to come up with evidence. It will never be found because it's not there. What he really wants to know is if he can trust her to help on the inside of the bank heist they are planning together where she works, at PIC Credit Union. He wants to know if she's been letting anyone else in on it secretly behind his back, or maybe she's even conspiring against him and setting him up.
  
  Barry gives the group three addresses in Ft. Lauderdale of where she may be. Address A, B, C. He says she has 3 homes, a condo, a town home, and a regular house, which is the only truth he has told thus far. he explains that the best time to toss her apartments/condo is while she is at work; she gets home around 5 pm after work.
  
  He says if they can bring back her hard drive, any paper work in her house, and spy on her (record her) that they will be well rewarded.
  
  Since she has three different homes, they will have to search all three, and retrieve the records (hard drives, papers, etc.)
  
  If the group wants to talk to her or press her for information she will arrive at her Condo, adress C, at around 5 pm.
  
  If they search her house, adress B, her invisible husband will be home.
  The house will be crowded with a myriad of strange paintings, black and white photos and lithograms. They will have to dig through this mess to find anything, and they won't find anything of importance. There is no computer. He is a recluse painter/poet who always stays home and always remains invisible. So unless there is a good reason the group will not even know he's there. He's armed to the teeth with firearms and grenades, and will be crazy enough to use them after he spies on them. He also has the ability to posesss people (take complete control of their body, literally leaping inside the victim). He will also use this ability.
  
  The apartment, adress A, is occupied by her look-a-like guard android, who is armed and will attack the group if threatened. There is also computer there. If the android is pressed with questions it will obviously not know anything about the ransom case or who Ronald Kramer is. The android also knows nothing about Barry Gray, except little clips it's heard from time to time while Tori talked with him on the phone.
  
  If the group confronts Tori at her Condo, address C, she will attack them. She also always remains invisble while in her house, and has the ability to turn intangible. She also has a myriad of weapons at her disposal.
  
  If the group digs through enough papers, and her computer, they will discover that she has also been suspicious of Barry, and has sent an espionage team to spy him out. If they are able to search the condo or her home it is also possible they will find receipts for private investigators, web sites she has about spy cams, etc. This team will also be called in if her android guard, husband, or herself are attacked.
  
  If the group is clever they will also discover blue prints for the Credit Union, and question why she has them, to piece together that she and barry Gray are colluding together.
  

66. Lilja's Song - Leslie

Recommend listening/viewing for this script - Damien Rice's "Crimes" and "I Remember".

• FADE IN:


• INT. THE MORRIGAN - DAY


• The Cafe is filled with worn sofas and chairs, arranged haphazardly around tables of varying size.


• The walls are painted a dark red and paintings hang crookedly from the wall. The place has the feeling of intentional chaos.


• A bar stool sits in a corner, surrounded by empty couches.


• LILJA, a short, thin woman with long dark hair and a large backpack enters the Cafe and looks around slowly.


• Her clothes are neat, but worn, and her hair and skin hint at the fact that she has not seen a shower in a while.


• She moves to the back of the room, towards the bar stool.


• Placing the back on the floor, she sits on the stool and pulls a beautifully carved mandolin from its place on the side of the pack.


• She holds She strums the strings, staring into space.


• She begins to sing softly.


• Every word she sings sounds as if it is breaking her heart.


• Her fingers caress the strings, her alto a warm rain poured around the lilting tune.


• THE BARISTA works quietly behind the bar, her hair tied into a lose bun around two black and silver chopsticks.


• She stops, wiping her hands on her black and gray apron, and listens thoughtfully to the music.


• The Cafe is sparsely populated by clients.


• They sit, transfixed by the song.


• Lilja's fingers dance across the strings, her hair hanging down past the instrument and she closes her eyes and hunches closer to the mandolin, as if she is trying to embrace the music.


• She finishes the song, her voice trailing away; and sits at the stool for a long moment, contemplating the floor.


• She stands, placing the mandolin back in the pack and begins to walk to the door.


• The barista intercepts her, and discretely hands her a packed brown bag.


• BARISTA
• Thank You.


• LILJA
• No, no, no thanks. Thank you, but...


• The barista pushes the bag into her hand, then turns away and moves quickly back to the bar.


• Lilja continues for the door, and as she begins to push her way outside, a patron tries to hand her money.


• Lilja balls her fist, shakes her head, then exits.


• She looks back into the Cafe through the large windows that line the storefront, then turns, and begins walking down the sidewalk, her worn shoes softly slapping the concrete.


• FADE TO BLACK.

65. Wings - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. LEE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT


• LEE is curled beneath a thick comforter, curled tightly in sleep.


• A small night light by the bed casts light on his walls, revealing bits of the art deco posters that cover his walls.


• There is a soft whirring, the sound of feathers on a breeze, and MAAKA appears, wings beating as he flies from one dimension to another.


• His wings are a glossy white, spreading high above his head, and brushing against the ceiling of the room.


• Metal armor runs down the center of the wings, following his spine. Delicate runes are engraved into the metal, the letters spinning down his back.


• He wears a tight shirt and stylish jeans, in odd contrast to the strange armor on his wings.


• A sword hangs from his waist.


• He leans over the bed, and places a hand on Lee's forehead.


• Maaka closes his eyes, and chants.


• Lee begins to curl up tighter, his sleeping disturbed. He writhes, twisting the covers around him.


• AMIRI (O.S.)
• Stop.


• Maaka's eyes open slowly, and he looks up.


• AMIRI stands across from him, golden eyes blazing.


• His dark, black wings are barely visible in the dim light.


• Maaka nods.


• MAAKA
• It's been a while.


• AMIRI
• He doesn't belong to you.


• Maaka smirks.


• MAAKA
• You guys are pretty repetitive. Good to see Father blessed you with creativity.


• AMIRI
• I've missed you too.


• Maaka's face softens.


• MAAKA
• It's too bad we have to meet like this.


• AMIRI
• You know you can just leave.


• MAAKA
• You know I won't. There's no returning.


• AMIRI
• He took me back.


• MAAKA
• Traitor.


• AMIRI
• Please, step away.


• Maaka pulls his sword.


• Amiri responds by pulling the sword strapped to his back.


• It is a deeper black than his wings, silver runes tracing its edges.


• Amiri quickly touches Lee and Lee stirs, slowly waking up.


• He looks sleepily around the room, seeing nothing that would have caused him to wake up.


• Maaka lowers his sword and pushes Amiri away from the bed.


• They duel, Maaka easily forcing Amiri into a corner.


• AMIRI
• Lee, talk to Father!


• Lee looks around, half asleep, then closes his eyes, blearily trying to pray.


• The moment his lip's move, Amiri's sword ignites with a strange fire, the runes glowing amber.


• Maaka blanches, and fights harder.


• Amiri, holds him off, looking up.


• AMIRI
• Father, Mother.


• Light swirls around him, and he forces Maaka back with his flaming weapon.


• Maaka fights harder, trying to shield his faced from Amiri's sword. His eyes swirl with fear and hatred.


• AMIRI
• I'm sorry brother.


• Amiri gather's light into his open palm, and with a powerful flurry of his wings propels the flame towards Maaka.


• Maaka watches with horror, attempting to dodge, but the light engulfs him, and he shrieks in pain as he is forced from the room, disappearing into parallel dimensions.


• Amiri slowly lowers the sword and walks to the bed.


• Lee is still attempting to mumble a prayer.


• AMIRI
• Good enough, good enough.


• He touches Lee's head, and Lee shakes his head, discouraged and pulls himself under the covers, trying to fall back into sleep.


• Amiri stores his sword, and raises his wings over the bed, quietly chanting as the night fades on.


• FADE TO BLACK.

63. Appliances-Eric

• FADE IN


• INT. KITCHEN-DAY


• A blender blends some pudding mix on a counter. A toaster toasts some bread. The refrigerator yawns.


• The refrigerator opens and closes its door.


• BLENDER
• Please stop doing that.


• The refrigerator continues opening and closing its door. The blender sighs.


• TOASTER
• What's with you?


• REFRIGERATOR
• I'm just sick of sitting here. This job is boring me to tears. All I do is cool things down.


• Toast pops up, and a plate walks in front of the toaster and lies down. The toaster catapults the toast onto the plate.


• TOASTER
• All I do is toast. So?


• REFRIGERATOR
• I'd rather be a lawnmower.


• The blender stops blending, and looks at him.


• REFRIGERATOR
• What?


• BLENDER
• There's other people who have it a lot worse than you. You can't just give up.


• REFRIGERATOR
• Yeah? Like who?


• A toilet is heard flushing off screen.


• The refrigerator lowers his eyes.


• BLENDER
• Imagine doing that all day.


• REFRIGERATOR
• Yeah, I guess I shouldn't complain.


• A man walks in and puts the pudding away. He grabs butter out of the refrigerator and butters his toast.


• He leaves with the plate of toast.


• TOASTER
• Yeah, you shouldn't complain. The poor TV has to stare out those things all day.


• REFRIGERATOR
• Yeah, we don't have it as bad as those things. They sure seem to be able to occupy their time though.


• BLENDER
• Occupy? More like waste.


• FADE TO WHITE

62. Medic-Eric

• FADE IN


• EXT. WAR ZONE-DAY


• Claude, a medic runs through woods, carrying a swaddled, oriental baby. Tufts of dirt fly around him as bullets fly and bombs explode. People scream. His helmet flies off as he leaps down a hill.


• Gun fire is all around him. He swivels to his left, then his right. The baby begins crying. He runs to his right.


• CLAUDE VO
• I'm not sure who nominated me for this.


• The sputter of gun fire becomes louder. The baby cries louder as he runs.


• CLAUDE VO
• Who would have abandoned this poor baby at a time like this?


• Claude comes to a fork on a trail. He turns to the right and sees a hut. He turns to the left and sees a long road. The baby begins crying again. He runs in that direction, panting heavily.


• CLAUDE VO
• I can't go on much longer.


• Claude continues running but collapses, but manages to hold the baby. A jeep hims around a corner, sputtering gun fire. Billows of dirt fly all around the medic. The jeep gets closer, and the medic closes his eyes.


• The jeep speeds up and is almost on top of him when the baby starts glowing. It sprouts wings and becomes so bright it blinds everyone. It carries him in the air, slowly floating closer to the sky.


• FADE TO WHITE

64. Jam - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. SANTA MONICA BLVD - DAY


• A mass of cars sit, packed tight for miles in the city's clogged arteries.


• INT. HONDA CIVIC - DAY


• ABNER sits drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.


• He runs a hand through his thick black hair and patiently studies the road.


• JAMIE sits staring through the passenger window with glazed eyes at the congestion.


• She absently fiddles with the edge of her dusty-green skirt, plucking at strands of fiber transferred to the skirt from her sweater.


• Abner turns and watches the cars across the median whizzing by, gazing at them with pursed lips.


• Jamie glances over at him, then quickly glances back to the window before he notices.


• She turns to steal another glance...and meets his eyes.


• ABNER
• What?


• JAMIE
• Nothing...


• ABNER
• Look, I'm sorry you're late, it's not my fault there's this much traffic.


• The cars inch forward.


• JAMIE
• We could have left earlier.


• ABNER
• I had to get ready.


• JAMIE
• You were preening for a whole hour. Preening!


• The cars inch forward again.


• Abner doesn't respond, but stares back at his window.


• He fiddles with his wedding ring.


• The traffic begins to flow and Abner hits the gas speeding up.


• Jamie looks over at him, her lips curling nastily.


• As the car passes through an intersection, a hummer comes from nowhere and slams into them.


• Their bodies are flung around like rag dolls, and Jamie lands in Abner's lap in an ironic embrace, his frustration locked into place, her sneer frozen forever on her face.


• FADE TO BLACK.

63. Better Angels - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. PRISON CELL - DAY


• ARIA dances slowly in on the hard concrete floor, bare feet brushing its dusty surface, her arms slowly spinning above her head. Filthy, bloody feathers are scattered across the floor and have piled up in corners.


• She is dressed in loose pants, and a prison shift with the number "3763-9" printed below the collar. Soft down lightly rings her neck.


• Two thick nubs protrude from her back, leaving two bloody lines traveling in a v down the shift.


• Her hair is cropped short, a single, thin, braid hanging from the front of her head and wrapping around her neck.


• The shift's short sleeves reveal her bare arms. Her skin, the color of warm brown sugar is covered with strange, beautiful tattoos. The tattoos are lined in silver, which upon closer reflection are tiny symbols lining the tattoos.


• She sings softly, in a strange language, a hauntingly beautiful song as she spins.


• Two GUARDS watch her from a small viewing window outside the cell.


• Their faces are covered in protective masks and they wear black, rubber gloves.


• INT. PRISON WALKWAY - CONTINUOUS


• OFFICER THOMAS stares through the glass, unable to pull his eyes away from Aria as she dances.


• OFFICER BANA pushes past him and slams his the butt of his baton into the metal door.


• Aria freezes, then kneels on the floor, lacing her hands behind her head.


• INT. PRISON CELL - CONTINUOUS


• Thomas hesitates, but Bana pushes in, pulling her up, and placing thick handcuffs around her arms.


• Thomas helps place her in ankle restraints and they pull her out of the cell.


• INT. PRISON WALKWAY - CONTINUOUS


• She shuffles slowly down the hall, as they stand on either side of her, grasping her arms. Her chains strike the concrete, ringing dully.


• They approach a narrow door at the end of the walkway, sunlight peaking through the door's edges.


• EXT. COURTYARD - DAY


• The GUARD at the door opens it at the sound of a knock on the other side.


• Thomas and Bana pull Aria into the courtyard, all blinking in the bright light.


• A SQUAD of guards stand, faces and hands covered,guns at the ready.


• Thomas and Bana push Aria against the wall.


• She looks at the guards, her eyes a light brown flecked with amber.


• As they turn away, she grabs Bana's hand.


• He spins around, and she reaches up, straining against the shackles, and touches his face.


• He pulls away, and moves quickly back, his eyes softening.


• He and Thomas stand behind the squad as they raise their rifles.


• Aria begins to sing softly, never taking her eyes away from Thomas and Bana.


• Thomas looks sick.


• Bana touches his own face.


• The rifles fire, and Bana blanches; Thomas turns away.


• Aria's EYES blink, slowly, the amber dying.


• She falls, leaving a bloodied stone wall behind her.


• FADE TO BLACK.

61. Suicide-Eric




• It was one of those Midwest winters. The kind that never seems to end. I went for a walk around our little retention lake in the field next to our house. I had a gun in my back pocket.
  
  The field was pure white, thick, white blankets that suffocated everything. It looked too white to be as ugly as it did, or maybe its brightness prooved to be the only redeeming quality it had and it was simply screaming to be expressed. But it didn't scream at me. Neither did the half-slush lake. Nothing screamed. Nothing was quiet. I would have been bothered by that, except bothered is an emotion.
  
  A little black bird flew down out of a tree and landed at my feet. It was trying to peck in the frozen ground. Silly bird. Or maybe we're all silly.
  
  I was praying to God that someone would come up and shoot me in the back of the head. There's a common misperception about suicide, in my opinion. People say it's the grand finale of all cop outs. It the hugest pity party a gas stove can get you. But once they have that hand gun pressed against their head or in their mouth, the stakes become real. Too high for most people. It takes nerves of steel to pull that trigger. It's perhaps the most cowardly yet brave thing you could ever do. It's a permanent vacation without a forwarding address. No receptionist. No letters.
  
  Again, those are emotions. At that point someone could have shot me in the back of the head or I could have won a million-dollar lottery, and neither one would have moved me. But if I put that gun against my head I knew it would wake me up. It would take me out of the depths of Apathy.
  
  Maybe that's why people attempt suicide. Maybe they'll stand on that ten-story balcony, just to make sure they still want to live. Maybe the attempt on life itself, or at least the curious gesture towards attempting it is what we need to appreciate it. Sometimes you have to go to the South Pole to remember you live in the tropics.
  
  I pressed the gun against my head.
  
  Click
  
  Everything stopped. I didn't put any bullets in it. Silly bird, silly me.
  
  But after that silent click the hair stood up on the back of my head. My head was numb. A warmth flooded my toes and traveled up my leg. Heroin couldn't be that good, I thought.
  
  And after that something screamed at me. It might have been that suffocating, white snow. Or maybe it was God. Who knows? What I do know is that friendship, that feeling of being connected is worth staying alive for.
  
  If I had loaded the gun, I wouldn't be telling myself to piss off; I would have been telling all of my friends and family. I would be saying, "You're not important enough to stay connected to."
  
  It's a slap in the face, telling someone they're not worth staying alive for. And the sad truth is, maybe most people aren't worth it. But if you can find those few people, that you can feel a genuine bond with, that you can help, that you can work with, then you have a reason. When you get involved with others, you move with them through life like an organic beast. You're not alone.
  
  I think the definition of despair is standing out in that field not caring if you win the lottery or get shot. It's the pure absence of feeling distilled by nothingness. Despair is when you make yourself turn invisible, and fade out of the world. It's hate. Checking out is hate, and not the kind of hate I want to live with. I don't have to stare death in the face anymore to appreciate life. I just have to open my eyes and answer that door, because my friends are knocking.
  

60. Perfect date cont.-Eric

• FADE IN


• EXT. ALLEY-DAY


• Glen manages to turn the hover around and speeds through the alley. They look down at the red hover in flames as they pass.


• GLEN
• Okay. I'll come clean.

>li class="action">There is an uncomfortable silence.

• GLEN
• You guys are robots. When you swallow that that pill I'll give you more information.


• More uncomfortable silence. Glen finally turns out of the alley into the air with traffic.


• GRAHAM
• What?


• GLEN
• Disturbing isn't it?


• Graham sighs in disbelief.


• Chassie places a hand on his shoulder.


• GRAHAM
• Yeah, this isn't a joke.


• GLEN
• I'm not even sure of the full details. But I think someone within the company doesn't want the world to know. it looks like they're eliminating the ones that do. And they started with her.


• Glen points to Christine's body.


• GLEN CONT'D
• Once I repair her, maybe she can tell us more.


• GRAHAM
• Let's say you're right. Why doesn't anyone know? Why are you two special? What's the point of not telling anyone? Plus any doctor can verify that we're real.


• Glen makes a turn, eyeing the rear view mirror. Chassie and jake turn back from time to time, to see if anyone is following them.


• GLEN
• Well, for one your synthetically made to appear human in every possible way. You even have a heart the pumps blood. You've got an endocrine system that regulates hormones.


• GRAHAM
• So my brain, my heart, everything is synthetic?


• GLEN
• That's right. And the only way to tell is to test for certain metabolites, and fatty acids. When they started manufacturing you they didn't cover every detail.


• CHASSIE
• What's crazy is how we didn't know. How many people know?


• GRAHAM
• Why didn't you tell us?


• GLEN
• For the simple fact that I couldn't even sort it out in my own head. Once I found out me and Chass are the only ones left, I freaked. Christine told headquarters and then this crazy stuff started happening.


• JAKE
• Unbelievable. I'm a robot. Wait, then how do I get stoned?


• GLEN
• That's because you have amazing artificial intelligence. You have emotions. You'd have to understand the engineering aspect to really appreciate it.


• JAKE
• So everyone? My mom? The check-out girl at the grocery store?


• Glen nods.


• JAKE
• Wow.

62. Bouquet - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• EXT. STREETSIDE FLOWER VENDOR - DAY


• KAT and SAM walk hand in hand down the busy sidewalk.


• He spots the flower vendor out of the corner of his eye, and nudges KAT.


• They walk over slowly and he inspects the flowers.


• The FLOWER SELLER sits behind the stand, surrounded by hundreds of options and a blinding array of colors.


• KAT smiles at SAM, waiting for his selection of flowers.


• SAM
• I'd like to get some of the pink roses there.


• KAT
• I don't really like roses. I'd rather go with orchids. Couldn't we do orchids?


• SAM
• And I'd like to highlight those with a a few of the darker roses.


• KAT
• Seriously? How about a few Bird of Paradises? Or Daisies...or like I said before orchids?


• SAM
• And let's throw in a few Baby's Breath.


• KAT
• Oh my goodness, how boring can you get? That's like every other bouquet.


• The flower seller puts the arrangement together, slightly puzzled at the interaction.


• Sam and Kat watch her work, silently.


• She finishes, and Sam takes the finished bouquet from her.


• He hands it to Kat, and she melts.


• KAT
• Thanks! That's really sweet of you.


• They walk off, hand in hand as the vendor stares after them.


• FADE TO BLACK.

61. Word Games - Leslie

• FADE IN:


• INT. DANCE STUDIO - EVENING


• The studio sits high above the streets. The mirrors that line the room catch the city lights pouring in through the large picture windows and catch them like so many faintly twinkling stars.


• HILLARY and ANDREW spin around the room, alone, dancing slowly.


• She is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he wears a loose button up shirt that flows, untucked, over his dark slacks.


• HILLARY
• How I feel? Simple.
  You are a spring melody. I'll float on your streams.


• Andrew twirls her.


• ANDREW
• Bamboo meets soft dirt.
  A rain of tea and nutmeg. Something new blossoms.


• She takes control, twirls him, and he grins at her.


• HILLARY
• You're cute, Sir Abstract. You and your little riddles. Tea and nutmeg? Please!


• Andrew makes a face at her, and regains control.


• He spins her out, and then pulls her tight to him, kissing her.


• HILLARY
• Better. No metaphors.
  I...


• He places a finger on her lips, and she quiets, and they circle the room, eyes meeting their partners as they spin in the reflected starlight of the city.


• FADE TO BLACK.