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EXT. JUNGLE – DAY The sun beams through a large exotic bush. Sounds of wildlife emit from every corner in this vast jungle. The large spade-shaped leaves of the bush shake rapidly. A loud GRUNT comes from behind them. Out pops ETHAN (30s), a mix of sweat and dirt covers his leathery tan skin. Cargo shorts, beat-up Nikes and a torn white t-shirt complete his ensemble. Ethan hobbles a little. A large gash runs down his black right calf. He runs with all his might, but the injury causes him to move slow. A loud ROAR comes from behind the bush. Ethan's eyes widen, but he doesn't look back. He knows what's coming. ETHAN: Dominique?! Ethan picks up his pace. Blood gushes out faster from the wound. He winces, but fights through it. The bush shakes again – the leaves are torn to shreds as a GIANT LION ravages through them. The Lion sets its sights on Ethan and pounces forward. EXT. JUNGLE TRAIL – DAY Ethan weaves down a tightly overgrown trail. Branches whip at his face, vines wrap around his ankles and dig into his skin as he pushes forward. ETHAN: Dominique?! The Lion's close behind. Eyes squinted. On a mission. The trail turns a corner, the Lion follows it with ease into a – EXT. SMALL CLEARING – CONTINUOUS The Lion sniffs the air. It smells blood – just not sure where. The top of Ethan's head appears behind a LARGE BOULDER. He holds a clear vile in his hand with a sharp needle on the end of it. ETHAN: One chance. Ethan pulls out a crude bamboo straw and sticks the vile in the front. He places the backside against his lips and – WOOSH – the vile shoots through the air – sticks the Lion right in the shoulder. Ethan watches, catches his breath. The Lion closes his eyes – for only a second – it quickly shakes the vile off and spots Ethan. Within a moment, the Lion is up in the air, full body launch at Ethan. Ethan falls back on his ass, scrambles backwards and down a – EXT. STEEP HILL – CONTINUOUS Ethan rolls and rolls – lands in a huge SNAKE PIT. Snakes of all size surround him. ETHAN: God damn. Ethan crawls up, escapes the pit. He shakes off the last couple of wrigglers on his legs. Up ahead he spots a large tree in the open clearing. EXT. OPEN CLEARING – MOMENTS LATER Ethan reaches the base of the tree, lands on his knees out of exhaustion. WOMAN'S VOICE: You made it. Ethan looks up, relief fills his face. He spots DOMINIQUE (20s). She's dirty too, but nowhere near the condition of Ethan. ETHAN: I never thought... Dominique reaches her hand out, flashes a smile to Ethan. Ethan grabs onto a branch – lifts one leg up ROARRRRR – the Lion appear out of no where, chomps on Ethan by his collarbone and rips him to the ground. Dominique lets out SCREAM after SCREAM as Ethan is thrashed around. EXT. JUNGLE – A FEW HOURS LATER The Lion licks the remaining blood off its paw. It sniffs the air, walks a few steps and spots a SNIPER GUN in the short grass. The GIANT PAW slams down and SNAPS the gun in half. INT. HUT – DAY A FEMALE PARK RANGER wipes a tear from her face. We pull back to reveal a run down hut filled with cut LION FUR SKINS. The ranger holds a small lion skull in her hand – no bigger than a cub. EXT. HUT – DAY Dominique sits in the back of a RANGER'S JEEP. She is handcuffed and looks miserable.

EXT. PARK - DAY A HOMELESS MAN slouches on a park bench beneath a a bare-branched tree. A BUSINESS MAN strolls up, sits down and reads a newspaper. The Homeless Man pulls a soggy, moldy sandwich from his pocket, and offers it to the Business Man. The Business Man frowns in disgust. The Homeless Man attacks the sandwich with gusto. Sauce drips down his front. Crumbs fly everywhere. The Business Man flicks the crumbs off the bench with a handkerchief, then resumes his reading. The Homeless Man pulls a second sandwich out of his pocket. He stands up on the bench. He attacks the sandwich and sprays crumbs even further. The Business Man brushes crumbs out of his hair and off his suit. He looks around the park: no other seats available. He grumbles and settles back to his reading. The Homeless Man gets down from the bench. He sits, catches his breath for a moment. Then he takes out a third sandwich. The Business Man gives him a dirty look. Okay, now it's on. The Homeless Man dances around the bench, gobbling the sandwich, humming, spraying crumbs everywhere. The Business Man huddles under his newspaper like it's an umbrella-- --but he's plastered with crumbs. His back, his front, his legs, everywhere. The Homeless Man finishes his dance with a little jig, bows to the Business Man, bows to the tree, and stumbles away down the path. The Business Man shoots up off the bench. He uses his handkerchief to sweep every single crumb into his newspaper. He crumples the newspaper and jams in into a trash can. He looks in the direction that the Homeless Man left, does a little jig and bow, and strides off in the opposite direction. From the top of the tree, a flock of scrawny, mangy, half-starved starlings watch him leave. The fly down and survey the super-clean ground beneath the bench, where one crumb remains-- --and they proceed to peck each other to death to try to get it.

INT. HOSPICE / PATIENT'S ROOM – NIGHT In near darkness, a VERY OLD WOMAN sleeps under stripes of moonlight. Her eyelids part and she sees… The SILHOUETTE OF A PERSON looming over her right side. The Old Woman’s eyes are slow to open, but her body is already trembling. A nearby light is turned on by the silhouette, revealing a YOUNG WOMAN in nurse's scrubs. Her smile offers no comfort. YOUNG WOMAN: You’ve caught me in the act… The Young Woman draws a just-emptied syringe out of the I.V. She pulls out another one… YOUNG WOMAN: I’m your angel. The Old Woman’s face contorts. Her bony left hand tremors as it claws around for the nurse call remote. But her hand spasms, punches forward. Knocks the remote off the bed. Her eyes shift back to the Young Woman who is already draining the next syringe. YOUNG WOMAN: There… finished. The Young Woman smiles again. The Old Woman’s mouth opens sideways. Her throat quivers. But she can’t scream. YOUNG WOMAN: (as if reading her mind) Why? The Old Woman’s body spasms then seizes. The Young Woman’s smile fades. She moves up the bed so she can lean into the Old Woman’s ear. YOUNG WOMAN (in German): [My grandmother was one of the “inferiors.” A guest of yours at Buchenwald. She spent the rest of her life searching for you.] The Old Woman’s eyelids dilate as the Young Woman rises. YOUNG WOMAN: And you'll spend the rest of yours in unrelenting pain. Goodbye. The Old Woman’s body convulses as the Young Woman exits the room. FIN

INT. CHURCH Silent. Peaceful. Shadows and candlelight. The CLOSED COFFIN, the size of a small child, has an angelic glow from the lights overhead. The OLD MAN (60s) kneels at the altar, gazing at the coffin before him. His face is grizzled and tear-stained. His black suit is impeccable - custom tailored silk. He holds up his hand, beckoning. Light glints off his ROLEX and PINKY RING. Behind him, a DARK FIGURE materializes from the shadows and stops just beyond the dome of light. DARK FIGURE Sir? Without turning around – OLD MAN I want him to see his wife and daughter suffer. Do you understand? The Dark Figure nods and departs without another word.

EXT. JUNGLE - NIGHT GUSTAV PIKE, 51, a wild-eyed explorer, and his daughter, FELICITY PIKE, 20, an awkward genius, struggle through the undergrowth of the Mayan forest. FELICITY Dad... GUSTAV Quiet! You might disturb the gods. FELICITY There are no gods, Dad. This is the forest. Gustav turns and grins. GUSTAV Oh ye of little faith. Your mother and I spent years in this forest, mapping its every pathway. Even the paths conformed to the Incan map of the universe. It's a magical place. It blessed us with love. It blessed us with you. FELICITY Ewww. GUSTAV I hope one day you find love like the love your mother and I had. FELICITY I hope I don't have to drag myself through the rainforest to do so. Gustav looks at Felicity sadly. GUSTAV You're so unlike her. Felicity smirks. FELICITY It's genetics, Dad. It's unpredictable. But you wouldn't know about genetics. 30 years with your head in Mayan folklore... GUSTAV It's not folklore, it's history! FELICITY Look, Dad, I love you. I really do. But after this trip, we're through. I've funded you and Mama's excursions into this place long enough. Mama's gone. It's time we moved on. And I...I should be saving my money. I should be investing. Like Ashton Kutcher. GUSTAV You're not going to meet Ashton Kutcher unless you go to one of those genius brunches the foundation's always throwing... FELICITY I don't need to meet Ashton Kutcher! His intellect doesn't match mine. It's just that...I admire his principles. That said, Dad, my money I think...is better spent elsewhere. Gustav looks like thunder. Felicity looks sad. FELICITY Let's make camp soon. LATER.... They've pitched a tent. Felicity slumbers deeply. Gustav is awake, his face illuminated by a flashlight. Peering into an ancient document covered in runes. Before our eyes, the runes change shape into English. "Sacrifice to us a virgin of high birth to be our conduit and we will show you the pathways of heaven." Gustav looks at Felicity. GUSTAV I'm coming, Helene. I'm coming.

EXT. PLEASANT TOWN - USA - DAY A quiet day in an oak tree lined street, bookended with immaculate houses. A few luxury cars parked in long driveways. A small compact stops in front of one of the more modest houses on the street, older, but still nice. INT. COMPACT NILS KRAFT, a traveling business man in his mid 40's, reaches to the passenger seat, pushes aside discarded soda cups and an empty bag of Cheetos and retrieves his little black book. He checks the address, it's a match. EXT. MODEST HOUSE Nils saunters up the brick walkway with a worn black leather bag in hand. He steps to the front door, but before he knocks, he peeks in through the curtains. EXT./INT. MODEST HOUSE Antiques and dated furniture. Neat and clean. DOOR Nils delicately knocks. Beat. OLD WOMAN (OS) Who's calling? Nils checks his little black book. NILS Hello, uh, Mrs. Sprinkle? MRS. SPRINKLE (OS) Yes? NILS Hello, Mrs. Sprinkle, sorry to bother you, but my aim in not to be a bother, but rather a helping hand. MRS. SPRINKLE Oh? NILS Yes. Now, Mrs. Sprinkle, if I may, I'd like to show you something that may be of great benefit to a woman, well, to a woman of limited time, such as your self. MRS. SPRINKLE I understand. He waits a moment. NILS Ma'am, I beg your pardon, but I really can't show you the full benefits of what I have to offer you without a, well, without a demonstration of sorts. NILS checks the neighborhood behind him. Still quiet. NILS (cont.) Ma'am? MRS. SPRINKLE Yes. I'm sorry, sir... NILS Nils, Please. MRS. SPRINKLE ... Nils, what a lovely name. Nils, I'm afraid I make it a rule not to let people in with my husband around. NILS I see. (checks his book, smirks, there is no Mr. Sprinkle. Not anymore.) Well, if you'd like, I can start my demonstration out here, on your porch and if you like what I have to offer, we can wait for your husband and let him decide if what I have is beneficial to you and yours. Beat. The door unlocks. Nils tightens his grip on the bag, checks for neighbors again. CLICK, the door begins to open, Nils puts his weight against the large oak door and moves... INT. MRS. SPRINKLES HOUSE ...into the entryway, bumping the delicate lady back. MRS. SPRINKLE Oh! Nils catches her by her arm... NILS Easy there. Ah, this is much better. ...and kicks the door shut behind him. He guides her into the... LIVING ROOM NILS Now, Mrs. Sprinkle, let's get something clear right off the top - I ain't here to hurt you, I will be fast, and, since I'm being honest, perhaps you, too, can be honest with me. There isn't a Mr. Sprinkle, now, is there? She shakes her head. NILS Now, I am here for a few specifics. First of all, do you have any silver or gold? Jewelry, utensils, you know. The shiny stuff. She points to a cabinet. He goes over rapidly and yanks out a drawer - A beautiful set of fine silverware, slightly tarnished from lack of use. He sees a large pocket watch resting against the mantel. NILS Tsk, Tsk, My dear, Mrs. Sprinkle. A shame to let such a valuable watch get in such condition. MRS. SPRINKLE It was my husbands. NILS Well, a fine start, Mrs. Sprinkle. See how easy this is so far. What else? How about old coins? Any sort of valuables you may have lying around. I don't want to be presumptuous, Ma'am, but I have a feeling there may be a lot of that around this place. MRS. SPRINKLE I... yes, I have more in the, in my bedroom. Please, don't ... NILS My dear, Madam. Do I look like I would lie to you? Trust me, this is simple. Just get me the things I ask and we both will benefit. I am a man of my word. Tell you what, I will wait here. I know, as a recent widow, sorry for your loss, that the bedroom is rather, well, rather private. Why don't you gather up you things for me? When you come back, I will bring you peace of mind, and your husband, resting in heaven above, will look down upon you with loving eyes. Hesitantly, Mrs. Sprinkle goes to her room. Nils hoists his black bag on top of the table and unzips it. BEDROOM Mrs. Sprinkle, tearful and shaking, opens several drawers, gathering valuables. She places the items on top of her dresser, then goes to another drawer. Inside, her husbands wallet, his police badge...and a gun. LIVING ROOM Nils, from behind, continues to work at his bag. He removes a clothe and dabs it with chemical. He takes a whiff. NILS (laughing to himself) She's gonna love this. He hears the wood floor CREAK behind him, turns to... ...Mrs. Sprinkle gun pointed. MRS. SPRINKLE I can't allow you to do this to me. BAM! Nils falls, his bag spills next to him. She drops the smoking gun and stares at Nils as he bleeds lifeless onto the hardwood floors. Something catches her eye. She approaches, slowly. The Pocket Watch, dangling from Nils' hand, shining, clean, like new. She looks closer at the contents of Nils' bag. Cleaners, polishes, nothing harmful...unless ingested.

EXT. SANTA MONICA PIER - DAY Eerie silence except for the ocean wind and waves breaking against the shore. All around: total devastation, result of an epic and mighty battle. Cars lie piled in huge mounds, pier and trees smolder, while steel tracks belonging to the pier's broken roller coaster twist upwards, pointing as if to beg God directly for help. Captain Cooper and half a dozen of Santa Monica's finest stand on the middle of the pier, desperately looking to the clear indigo sky for a sign of something. One of the cops points to a zooming blur of red, white and blue. UNIFORM #1 Look, there she is! ON PATRIOT GIRL: Patriot Girl soars through the air, hauling a barely conscious Dr Arcane by his collar. Arcane's giant mechanical robot suit lies spreadeagled in the Pacific Ocean below, slowly sinking, its chest shredded open. Approaching Cooper and his men, she dumps Arcane to the deck. EXT. SANTA MONICA PIER Arcane tumbles across the pier's wooden walkway, to a few inches of the uniforms' feet. As Patriot Girl lands, she instinctively makes that proud, ramrod pose we've seen on cereal boxes, billboards, posters and thousands of pieces of Patriot Girl merchandising. An all-American inspiration to millions of girls across the globe. She stares proudly at a groggy Arcane... he was really tough to beat. PATRIOT GIRL Dr Arcane, your reign of terror is over. Forever. (to police) Okay boys, lock him up... and throw away the key. The cops cuff Arcane as Patriot Girl sidles up to Cooper, kisses him on the cheek. COOPER You had me worried for a while. PATRIOT GIRL That's so sweet... But, everyone forgets just how many powers I have. I always have a way to win. He returns her kiss. COOPER Well, thank god you're on our side. From inside the shackled Arcane's suit, we hear what sounds like an alarm clock's wake up beep. DR ARCANE (ironic laugh) On our side? Nothing could be further from the truth... If I were you right now, I'd cover my eyes. From the mountains, a trio of impossibly bright flashes of light slash the distant horizon. Patriot Girl glares angrily at Arcane, her mouth hangs in astonishment, more at his audacity than anything else. PATRIOT GIRL Arcane, what have you done? TELL ME!! DR ARCANE You're so vain, so fixated on having everybody adore and worship you, so self-centered... didn't it even occur to you I was just the diversion? (defiantly) We won, destroyed it all... Your starship, the beacon, everything. Your people are now lost, adrift in the cold of space. I know we killed tens of thousands, and I'm truly sorry about that... but billions will live on. (beat) Did you think we wouldn't find out, wouldn't discover your dark secret? What you had planned for mankind? A stunned Cooper turns to Patriot Girl. COOPER What's he talking about, Freya? Patriot Girl's eyes glow, hellfire red. Beams of crimson light shoot from her eyes, and in an instant the uniforms are rendered to piles of ash. Arcane stares desperately at Cooper. DR ARCANE Captain Cooper, Patriot Girl isn't here to help us. She came to turn this planet into a farm for her people. We're just food to them. (beat) Call us terrorists, super villains, it doesn't matter any more. My friends and I, what we did together as a team... well, for all our akes, trust me when I say we had no other choice. (tired, satisfied grin) And whatever else you think, we did just save Earth. PATRIOT GIRL Not quite... all it means is that I don't have to share anymore. The good news? Humanity is going to keep me young and alive forever. (to Cooper) I'm sorry Mike, he is telling the truth. And despite how much I like you, I can't let you live with that knowledge. Her hands clamp his head. As she kisses him, he ages violently until only a dried out husk is left. Released, his corpse falls to the floor, crumbles into a dust cloud of ash, blown away by the ocean breeze. She stands there for a moment, wave of satisfaction washes over her. PATRIOT GIRL (sotto) Finally. (to Arcane) I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to do that. Patriot Girl stares menacingly at the prostrate and bound Arcane, who only now realizes just how amoral and depraved his adversary is. PATRIOT GIRL I'll deal with the others in due time, but for now it's just you and me. A cruel, twisted smile crosses her face. Her eyes glow again. PATRIOT GIRL What do you say we have a little fun?

INT. LOUNGE - DAY A father sits cross-legged on the floor with his young daughter. A cardboard box is open, contents spilled in front of them. A 500 piece jigsaw of a mountain scene. This isn't going to be easy. DAUGHTER Stupid puzzle, I can't do this. FATHER Course you can. DAUGHTER Too hard. FATHER Nothing is impossible, I'll help -- do you know how to do a puzzle? DAUGHTER No, and I would rather "do" putting it back in the box. FATHER C'mon, humour me, you'll enjoy it. Raised eyebrows from daughter. FATHER (Contd.) So, first, let's sort the pieces. Edges over here and the inner pieces in this pile. She sits watching him, clearly not interested. He starts sorting by himself. LATER Father is still sorting as daughter looks on. He starts to deliberately sort the pieces wrong. He can see daughter watching him. She can't resist intervening for long. DAUGHTER Daaad! C'mon, you're doing it wrong... She holds up a couple of sorted pieces. DAUGHTER (Contd.) ... these are edge pieces! He smiles. FATHER Oh yeah, thanks. She just shakes her head and starts to help sort. LATER The pieces of the jigsaw are in two pile, edges and inner pieces. DAD There you go, that was easy. Now we just need to build the edges. DAUGHTER Whatever, I was just helping with the sorting. This is just dull Dad, for god's sake... why are we doing this? FATHER Father daughter bonding? DAUGHTER Whatever. LATER Father has about half of the edges complete and is deliberately fumbling the pieces again. DAUGHTER Man, how did you manage to get so good at Jigaws... you must have had a lot of time on your hands. FATHER And no iPads, cell phones, MP3 players etc etc to distract. DAUGHTER That must have been dull. FATHER This is great, just try it. He starts trying to fit the inner pieces into the frame. DAUGHTER You aren't finished on the edges! Jeez, I have to do everything. She starts working on one edge moving towards her Father's end. He sits back with a smile on his face watching her go. She carries on with the edges, finishing the frame and then starts on the inner pieces without realising what she is doing, or that her father has sat back to watch, smiling. LATER Daughter is engrossed in the jigsaw which is close to completion. LATER There are just a few pieces left to go in. Daughter is smiling and working quickly to fill the last few spaces. Father is sat in an armchair, watching. Just three pieces to go. FATHER See, what did I tell you, that was fun. DAUGHTER Yeah, okay, I'll give you that... you got me. She punches home the second to last piece. DAUGHTER I have conquered the jig... Then stops, the last piece is missing. She looks in the box, and around where she is sat, but nothing. DAUGHTER Damn! FATHER What? DAUGHTER A piece missing. All that time, showing this thing who is boss, and there's a piece missing. Where did you get this from? FATHER It was new, it should be there. Lift the rug. They pick up the rug and pat it down. Nothing. FATHER Is it under the table? He lifts one end of the table as she looks underneath. Nothing. DAUGHTER Nothing. What a waste of time! FATHER Check next door, might have fallen out of the box. She disappears from the lounge. Father wanders over to the jigsaw and places the last piece in position. Smiling, he also leaves the lounge. Daughter jogs back into the room. DAUGHTER It's not there, I loo..... She realises she is alone. DAUGHTER Glad to see you take this seriously. She looks back at the jigsaw, then the door, then double-takes back to the jigsaw. Her face drops and she exits the lounge screaming. DAUGHTER Daaaaaaaaad!

Ext. Empty Driveway – Afternoon The head of a YOUNG BOY bobs up and down, peeking through a window in a house at the end of an empty driveway. Int. House – Continuous The young boy, MAX, 6, vibrant and eager, stands as tall as he can, jumping as high as he can, pulling himself up by the window ledge with each leap. His mother, JENNY, 28, an angel with calloused hands, sits at a small dinner table with two place settings, watching Max. She glances at her cell phone. A text from ERIC reads: INSERT: Jen, I’ll be there this time. 3 o’clock sharp. I promise. Jenny glances at the wall clock, reading 3:40 p.m. JENNY Come here Max. MAX No, mom, I want to see when daddy gets here. I want to see his pick-up truck. JENNY I don’t think today is going to be the day you meet your dad, Max. Max stops jumping. JENNY Sometimes people let us down, Max. But we must always try to forgive, and understand how people make different choices in life… you hear me Max? Max? CUT TO: Ext. Intersection A pick up truck swerves and crashes horribly, causing a 3-car pile up. JENNY (V.O.) Max… Max... Int. Bedroom – Night Max jolts awake in his bed, screaming. Jenny embraces him with the security of a mother’s hug. JENNY Max, Max, it’s okay, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Max dries his tears with his pick-up truck blankets. MAX Is daddy still coming tomorrow? JENNY He said he’ll try to come see you at 3pm. End. Thanks for reading. Good luck to all writers. @rojomayne

FADE IN: INT. LAUNDROMAT - DAY An unmanned service counter near the front door. On the wall behind it ... an award. “EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH Bubba “Bubbles” Mossgrave.” The accompanying photograph. A selfie. BUBBLES (35) grinning from ear to ear in an euphoric, drug induced, state of mind. A solitary male CUSTOMER (45) wears a blue collar uniform. The name “Bob” embroidered over the shirt pocket. He stands at a work table tending a laundry basket full of clothes. MILO (21), dressed like a wanna-be gang member, opens the front door and walks in. His addict body twitches. He looks around. Sees Bubbles’ award. LAUGHS. MILO (to Bob) What’s up? Bob shifts the basket back a few inches. BOB Oh, you know. Scoring some points with the wife. Milo walks over to Bob. Opens his hand revealing a bag of white powder. MILO Interested in scoring a few more with the bitch. BOB What’s your name, son? MILO (acting tough) Milo. What’s it to you? BOB (calmly) First of all, Milo, she’s not a bitch and, second of all, I’m not interested. MILO No problem. Just here to pick up a friend. Thought I’d do a little business. Mind if I hang out for a few? BOB Not at all. Bob turns to the nearest washing machine. Closes the lid. Feeds four quarters into the coin slot. He turns the dial. Presses “Start.” Water FILLS the tub. Milo pulls up his pant leg. Exposes a Glock. MILO Hey, you in the market for one of these? I got more shit in the car if you want to take a look? BOB You’re gonna hurt yourself with that. MILO (insulted) Who you talking to? I’m a regular Jesse James. BOB Jesse James was murdered? Shot in the back of the head by a friend. MILO Fuck you. You’re making that shit up. BOB No, I’m not. Google it. Milo pulls out the Glock. MILO I’ll show you. I can hit any goddamn thing in here. Pointing the gun at the Employee of the Month Award. He strains to focus. Struggles to stop the trimmers. Bob gently pushes the gun down. BOB That won’t be necessary. I believe you. MILO Fuck, yeah. You know I can. Bob checks the time on his watch. BOB Mind if I ask you a personal question? MILO Shoot. BOB You ever feel passionate about something? Milo grabs his crotch. MILO I’m passionate about this, mother-fucker. BOB Be serious. If you could do anything in the world, what would you do? MILO That’s easy. I’d fly. You know, a pilot. Fly all over the world. BOB Well, I can honestly say ... I didn’t expect that. So, what’s stopping you? Milo sits on the table. Thinking it over. Comes back to reality. MILO I fly every day, man. On Milo united. Bob pulls out his wallet. Counts five one-hundred dollar bills from an overflowing stack of money. BOB For the pilot fund. MILO I can’t take your hard earned cash. Shit, I make more money than you. BOB I doubt that. Milo hesitates for a moment. Takes the cash. Bob muffs putting the wallet in his back pocket. It falls to the floor ... behind his expensive dress shoes. He leads Milo to the front door. Patting him on the back. Milo turns. MILO Thanks. BOB You’re welcome. They knuckle punch. Milo sees the wallet. MILO You dropped your cash, old man. Bob checks his pocket. BOB Holy cow. I did. You could have tried to steal it. MILO I’m a businessman. Not a thief. BOB Good thing you’re honest. I would have had to track you down and kill you. MILO Yeah, right. BOB Now go on. Get out of here. Start your new life. Go take those lessons. Time’s ticking. Milo looks at Bubbles’ photo. MILO If you see Bubbles, tell him I stopped by. Bob closes the door behind Milo. BOB I’ll do that. AT THE DRYER Bob loads a mass of laundry. Coins CLINK as they enter the slot. Bob chooses the setting “Extra Dry.” Pushes “Start.” Through the glass, Bubbles’ severed head TUMBLES round and round. A look of horror frozen on his face. FADE OUT.

EXT. DESERTED ROAD – NIGHT A car is heard approaching from a distance on a deserted road. The headlights grow bigger as the car gets closer. INT. STATE TROOPER CAR – NIGHT The car speeds by a State Trooper car that is parked on the side of the road. He clocks the car at “85 mph.” The TROOPER, (male 40s) turns on the siren as he pulls onto the road. INT. SPEEDING CAR – NIGHT The driver, CLAIRE (20s), looks up in the rear view mirror. CLAIRE: Shit. She pulls over to the side of the road. EXT. DESERTED ROAD – NIGHT The Trooper walks up to the car. Claire has her window rolled down, and is digging in her purse. TROOPER: License and registration. The Trooper looks over Claire as she searches in her purse. She’s wearing a short sequined dress and lots of make-up. CLAIRE: (handing him her license and registration papers) Here ya go boss. TROOPER: Do you know why I pulled you over tonight? CLAIRE: You were lonely? TROOPER: You were driving fifteen miles over the speed limit, your car was swerving in and out of both lanes on the road - CLAIRE: (interrupting and slurring) - Well I pay taxes for both lanes, so technically I was just executing my right as a taxpayer. TROOPER: Can you step out of the car? CLAIRE: It was just a joke. TROOPER: I’m not going to repeat it. Claire gets out of the car. Her head is bobbing, and she holds onto the car for support. TROOPER: Have you been drinking tonight Miss …(looking at her license) Claire Davenport? CLAIRE: Look I know this looks bad, but I’m a good girl. Honestly. Claire touches the Trooper’s chest. CLAIRE: I usually get off with just a warning. Claire moves her hand to the top button of his shirt. TROOPER: Turn around and face the car. CLAIRE: Why? TROOPER: I won’t ask you again. CLAIRE: Oh yeah? (she points her finger at Trooper) What are you gonna do? Make me? The Trooper grabs Claire’s hand and turns her around to face her car. TROOPER: Now place your hands on the roof and spread your legs shoulder width apart. Claire does as instructed. The Trooper then pats down Claire, moving his hands from the top of her body down to her feet. The Trooper moves his hands up her legs, and stops. He moves his hands in between her legs, lingering for a moment underneath her dress. Claire, shocked, jolts up and pushes the Trooper. CLAIRE: What the hell was that?! The Trooper grabs Claire’s hand, throwing her body back against the car and pulling her hands behind her back. TROOPER: Claire Davenport you’re under arrest for assaulting a state trooper – The Trooper handcuffs Claire. (Overlapping) CLAIRE: Are you kidding me? TROOPER: You have the right to remain silent– CLAIRE: - I barely touched you, you prick. TROOPER: Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law – CLAIRE: - You’re the fucking assaulter, touching me like that. TROOPER: You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police … – CLAIRE: - You’re damn right I’m consulting an attorney! TROOPER: - … and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future – CLAIRE: - Because this is bullshit! The Trooper pulls Claire away from her car and starts to walk her toward his car. TROOPER: If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning, if you wish. CLAIRE: You’re a pervert. TROOPER: If you decide to answer any questions now, without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. CLAIRE: I have a question for you perve … The Trooper opens the backseat door to his car. TROOPER: Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present? CLAIRE: Is this how you get your kicks? Fingering the women you pull over? TROOPER: Get in the backseat. CLAIRE: Fuck you Officer Sicko. INT. TROOPER CAR - NIGHT The Trooper throws Claire into the backseat of his car so she’s lying on her stomach. Claire tries to lift her head up, but the Trooper pushes her down onto the seat so her head is sideways, facing the back of the passenger seat. The Trooper reaches up Claire’s dress, pulling her underwear down. CLAIRE: No. Stop it. Stop it! Claire tries to struggle free as the Trooper takes off his belt, dropping in on the floor of the car. Claire sees that the gun holster is empty. The Trooper then points the gun at the back of Claire’s head. TROOPER: I would stop all that noise if I were you. Claire lays still, eyes frozen ahead. The Trooper, with his free hand, unbuttons the top of his pants. TROOPER: I’m just giving you what you wanted Claire. This is just a warning. That’s all. A close up on Claire’s eyes. The sound of the Trooper unzipping his pants. Claire’s body is thrust forward two times. On the third, Claire closes her eyes. END OF SCENE

I enjoyed the way you built intensity in this scene.

I know the Day 5 Challenge Contest is over but I rewrote parts of my Laundromat scene (#11 above) and wanted to post it. _____________________________________________ FADE IN: INT. LAUNDROMAT - DAY An unmanned service counter near the front door. On the wall behind it ... an award. “EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH Bubba “Bubbles” Mossgrave.” The accompanying photograph. A selfie. BUBBLES (35) grinning from ear to ear in an euphoric, drug induced, state of mind. A solitary male CUSTOMER (45) wears a blue collar uniform. The name “Bob” embroidered over the shirt pocket. He stands at a work table tending a laundry basket full of clothes. MILO (21), tattooed and dressed like a wanna-be gang member, opens the front door and walks in. His addict body twitches. He looks around. Sees Bubbles’ award. LAUGHS. MILO (to Bob) What’s up? Bob shifts the basket back a few inches. BOB Oh, you know. Scoring some points with the wife. Milo approaches Bob. Opens his hand revealing a bag of white powder. MILO Interested in scoring a few more with the bitch. Bob lowers several washing machine lids. BOB What’s your name, son? MILO (acting tough) Milo. What’s it to you? BOB (calmly) First of all, Milo, she’s not a bitch and, second of all, I’m not interested. MILO No problem. He indicates Bubbles’ photo. MILO (CONT’D) Just here to pick up a friend. Thought I’d do a little business. He DRAGS a chair over. Sitting too close. Bob’s personal space invaded. MILO (CONT’D) Mind if I hang out for a few? BOB Not at all. Bob feeds four quarters into the nearest washing machine. Turns the dial to “Bulky/Bedding.” His finger an inch away from the “Start” button. MILO (abruptly) Hey, you in the market for one of these? Milo pulls up his pant leg. Exposing a Glock. MILO (CONT’D) I got more shit in the car. Wanna check it out? BOB (incredulous) You’re gonna hurt yourself with that. MILO (insulted) Who you talking to? I’m a regular Jesse James. BOB Jesse James was murdered. Shot in the back of the head by a friend. MILO Fuck you. You’re making that shit up. BOB No, I’m not, son. Google it. Milo pulls out the Glock. MILO I’ll show you. I can hit any goddamn thing in here. Pointing the gun at Bubbles’ award. He strains to focus. Struggles to stop the trimmers. Bob gently pushes the gun barrel down. BOB That won’t be necessary. I believe you. MILO Fuck, yeah. You know I can. Bob checks the time on his watch. BOB Mind if I ask you a personal question? MILO Shoot. BOB You ever feel passionate about something? Milo looks at him cross-eyed. MILO You hittin’ on me, bitch? Waving the gun. MILO (CONT’D) Cause I don’t go for that shit. Do I look like I go for that shit? BOB Calm down. I’m talkin’ about passion as in what you love to do. Milo grabs his crotch. MILO I’m passionate about this, mother-fucker. BOB Be serious. If you could do anything in the world, what would it be? Milo settles down. Considers his reply. MILO I’d fly. You know, a pilot. Go all over the goddamn world. Tasting pussy from here to ... He can’t think of a location. BOB Well, I can honestly say, I didn’t expect that. So, what’s stopping you? Every moment is an opportunity for a new beginning. Milo sits down. Thinking it over. Comes back to reality. MILO I fly every day, man. On Milo united. Bob rolls his eyes. Checks the clock on the wall. Pulling out his wallet, he counts five one-hundred dollar bills from a thick stack. Hands it to Milo. BOB For the pilot fund. Milo waves it off. MILO I can’t take your hard earned cash. Shit, I make more than you. BOB I doubt that. Milo hesitates for a moment. Smiles. Sets the gun on the table. Pockets the cash. MILO Thanks. Sure you don’t want any of this? (indicating the white powder) It’s the bomb. BOB I’m sure. Now go on. Get out of here. Minutes of your life are ticking away. They walk toward the front door. Bob muffs putting the wallet in his back pocket. It falls to the floor unnoticed. Behind Bob’s expensive dress shoes. MILO Shit, I forgot my gun. He goes to retrieve it. Sees Bob’s wallet. MILO (CONT’D) You dropped your cash, old man. Bob checks his pocket. BOB You’re right. I did. Milo picks up the wallet, hands it to Bob. Grabs the gun. BOB (CONT’D) Why didn’t you try to steal it? You saw it was full of cash. MILO I’m a businessman. Not a thief. BOB Good thing you’re honest. I would have had to track you down and kill you. MILO Yeah, right. He points to Bubbles’ photo. MILO (CONT’D) Now, that guy ... he’s a thief. Watch yourself. BOB Thanks for the heads up. Milo pushes the front door open. MILO If he shows, tell him I got tired of waiting for his sorry ass. I’m gone to find some pussy. BOB I’ll do that. AT THE DRYER Bob loads a mass of laundry from the basket. Coins CLINK as they fall through the slot. Bob looks at the control panel. Chooses “Extra Dry.” Pushes “Start.” The barrel in the dryer moves. Picking up speed. Through the glass, Bubbles’ severed head TUMBLES round and round in the linens. It HITS the window. A look of horror frozen on his face. FADE OUT.