[…] July is Scene-Writing Month here at Go Into The Story. Every Monday-Friday at noon Eastern / 9AM Pacific, I will upload a post with a prompt for writing a script scene. Each day, write a scene per those guidelines. If you really want to get …read more […]

prompt idea:write a scene where something gets stolen or the after incidents it.

This was challenging for me. EXT. STREET – HOUSE – DAY Beautiful quiet street in an upscale area. SOUND OF BROKEN GLASS cracks the idyllic scenery. Second later, a man flies through the window and plummets onto the grass. He moans. Front door swings open. MAN TWO is very angry and bounds towards MAN ONE. MAN 2: get up, fucking asshole MAN 1 staggers onto his feet. Before he reacts, MAN TWO launches his second attack as he lashes out and rockets MAN ONE against a car. ALARM SOUND RINGS OFF. MAN ONE is pissed off. He sprints to MAN TWO and tries to tackle him. He fails. He restores himself and gets MAN TWO onto the floor with a hard side kick. MAN TWO is surprised. He reacts very fast and next moment MAN ONE is in a pose where he can’t breathe. MAN TWO: tell me where you've hidden the stuff MAN ONE mumbles something and MAN TWO strengthens his pose till MAN ONE passes out. MAN TWO looks at him. At that moment, MAN ONE opens up his eyes and hammers with his fists on MAN TWO’S head again, again and again, till he passes out, followed by MAN ONE. Two man lie unconscious onto the grass.

SCENE 5 (PROMPT: Write a fight scene involving actual physical violence) EXT. STREET - DAY ALEX on the run – MITCHELL closing in fast – And – Alex trips – falls – gets to his feet but – Mitchell’s on top of him now and they fight for position over one another – In a matter of seconds, Alex has laid a few elbows to Mitchell giving him just enough time to get back on his feet and – He’s tripped up again, this time, Mitchell with a knife in his hands as it races down at Alex’s chest and – Misses by a few inches – Alex rolling, getting to his feet – But doesn’t run – Mitchell gets to his own feet, the two circling each other, each waiting for the other to make their move and – Mitchell does – quick as lightning – the knife lunging towards Alex’s abdomen -- Alex side stepping – grabbing Mitchell’s wrist and – SNAPPING it with a sick CRACK! Mitchell screams out in pain, the knife falling from his hands, as he falls to his knees, cradling his wrist – Alex kicks the knife away, looks to the wounded Mitchell, and plants a BOOT straight to his face. Mitchell unconscious, bleeds from his nose and mouth. Alex heads off.

Scene 5 Today’s prompt: Write a fight scene involving actual physical violence [suggested by Despina]. EXT. FARM PASTURE - DAY Marci races away on her horse. Gates rides bareback, chases. Gaining stride by stride. WOODED AREA Gates catches her, leaps off. Knocks Marci to the ground. Both girls tumble kicking up dust, with GRUNTS. Dazed. Gates moves to Marci. Looks at the heap. Suddenly Marci kicks at Gates, knocking her back. Gates attacks, pushing her back down, jumps on top of her. They roll struggling. Roll in the mud. Both stand, size each other. GATES Why’d you kill Doc? MARCI Why not? Now it's your turn bitch. Gates’ swing kick connects Marci’s side, throws her off balance. Marci pulls out her gun, Gates kicks it away, slugs her, sending her back. Marci attacks, grabs Gates’ shirt, rips off fabric. Gates stops. GATES That all you got. Marci takes a step but it’s too late, Gates kicks her in the gut, swing at her head but Marci blocks it. MARCI I grew up on the streets. Not a gym. Another strike by Gates falls Marci to her knees. Marci grabs a hand full of mud throws it in Gates face. This blinds Gates. Rubs it from her eyes, she stumbles backward. Marci shoves Gates’ into the grave. Gates lands on top of a body. Gates knows that it’s Wilson. Gates pats down Wilson’s ankles. Marci searches for her gun. Finds it. Rubs the mud off. Turns to Gates. Gates rubs the mud from her eyes with her left hand. Marci stands over the grave. MARCI You’re so pathetic you crawl in your own grave. Time to put you down bitch. GATES You never told me why. MARCI He loved Alexis more. Never me. And the money. Marci raises her gun. Gates is faster. Aims Wilson’s gun. BANG. BANG. BANG. All three shots hit Marci, spins her to the ground. Gates crawls out from the grave. Walks to where Marci lays with a shock expression on her face, eyes wide. GATES You were wrong about Doc. He loved you both. He was afraid of you. Bitch. Marci dies.

I'm catching up, this is my 4th entry scene 4 EXT STREET- DAY Two groups of teenage girls stand opposite each other. In the middle PASCALE (15) a dark haired girl with black tight fitting clothes and more make-up than she needs, and EMMY (15) busty for her age with huge earrings and very glossy lips. EMMY: You say one more thing and I’ll fucking bust your ass Bitch! PASCALE: One. More. Thing. EMMY: What did you just say there? What I hear you say? PASCALE: I’m ready EMMY: You better hold me back guys, this one ain’t gonna see the daylight! Holds back her arms, so her friends can stop her. They don’t. It looks sort of pathetic. EMMY (cont’d): You better shut your.. Slam! Pascale hits her straight on the nose. Emmy falls back, into her friend’s arms, launching her back, out of reflex. And entertainment. Stunned for a moment, Emmy finds back her posture. Straightens her back. EMMY: You’re a.. a dead.. corps.. Pascale walks slowly toward her, getting close. Really close. Their noses almost touch. -silence- EMMY: And I’m gonn- Pascale slaps her on the cheek. Emmy pushes pascale onto the pavement and they fight dirty. Real dirty. Nails used as weapons. The sounds of the fight are not very spectacular. Numb thumbs and empty slapping. The other girls cheer, Looking excited and eager. This will be all tomorrows gossip. What I say? all next months’! Emmy is on top of Pascale, slapping her in the face, pulling her hair. Pascale holds her head, kicking her legs in the air. Then starts punching Emmy vigorously. Emmy falls over backward flat out on the pavement. Pascale is now getting up but Emmy won’t give in. She starts kicking, aiming for the shins. And actually hits target. PASCALE: Fuck fuck fuck! She hops around on one leg. This is an easy one. Emmy kicks the other chin with great force, causing Pascale to fall down next to her. We see both of them laying down, from the top. Perplexed. Still for a moment. A bit like the two girls kissing on dorm room posters. Than Pascale gets back into action.. And rips out Emmy’s earring. Emmy screams, jumps up, holding her bleeding ear. On the pavement we see her loop earring and quite some hair. Now Pascale gets up too, looks at the mess. GIRLFRIEND: He’s coming. Pascale and Emmy jump. They look awful. Pascale tries pushing the locks of hair into the bushes. Emmy strikes a pose where she can simultaneously hold her earlobe and look cool. NICK (handsome, 17) walks past with a possy of guys and girls. EMMY AND PASCALE: Hey… NICK: Hi… And there he goes. Emmy and Pascale watch him walking down the street, plastic smiles on their faces. PASCALE: (Whispering) You take your filthy eyes off him. EMMY: (whispering) I can take my eyes wherever the fuck I want. The other girls lost interest, walked away. Its just the two of them. EMMY: See you tomorrow? PASCALE: whatever... OK.

Scene number two: [Wasn't written specifically for this, but was written today...] EXT. SIDE STREET - VILLAGE - DAY Paul wheels himself along the rough cobbled road, yelling to the locals and scientists stumbling from the scattered houses- PAUL: Go, everyone go! Down the ravine! El barranco! Go! Vamos! He’s almost at the end of the road now - people rush out of the final house and past him, his job here is done… And then the shadow passes over him - wheeling, turning - An AERIAL DRONE the size of a car, bristling with weapons. Turning to take aim at the fleeing, defenceless residents. Paul has no cover. He knows how this will end. But he unclips the SHOTGUN from the side of his wheelchair all the same. The guns open fire - the slowest and oldest, bringing up the rear, are cut down - Paul wheels the chair forward, hard and fast, at least making himself a moving target - before bringing the shotgun up and pumping shots into the drone’s underbelly. Two, three, four shots - trying to blast through a plastic panel, and from the SPARKS and the sudden SHAKE in the drone’s movements he’s having an effect… A single GUN swivels to target him - Paul squeezes off one final defiant round - PAUL: Take that, motherfucker - The ANTI-AIRCRAFT ROUND smashes through the side of the wheelchair, flipping it over and sending Paul tumbling across the road. Suddenly he’s face down on the cobbles - there’s blood on his uniform, shrapnel in his legs - no feeling there, of course, he doesn’t even know how badly he’s hurt - But the shotgun lies JUST OUT OF REACH. Paul digs his fingertips into the cobbles and DRAGS HIMSELF towards the gun. The drone has been concentrating on the fleeing civilians, picking them off with single-shot precision - But now all the guns swivel to target Paul. That amount of firepower will reduce him to pulp. Finally his fingers close on the shotgun - he flips over onto his back, pointing the gun for one last shot - And with a YELL OF RAGE, Rae hurtles down out of the sky at the drone, blasting it with both her handguns! Its weapons swivel to target her, but too late - Rae switches her grip to the pulsejet controllers, forcing maximum speed out of them, raising her legs to SLAM FEET-FIRST INTO THE DRONE - Paul’s final shot goes wide, over her head - And propel it into the corner of the nearest house. The stonework shakes but holds - and the drone FRACTURES under the impact. She’s broken its back. The drone drops into a heap, guns thrashing like useless limbs. Rae lands, but her legs buckle - she hit the drone harder than she realized - she falls beside Paul, her paraglider canopy enveloping both of them… PAUL: Rae! Rae, oh God… But she rolls to a sitting position, bruised but okay! RAE: You almost shot me!

Scene 2 -- The physical Fight INT. FIRST MOUNT CARMEL OF SPRINGFIELD – FELLOWSHIP HALL – DAY Folding tables with plastic tablecloths, covered with covered dishes now uncovered. Parallel rows of the faithful loading paper plates to the breaking point. AGNES, 78 in a 30 year old floral summer dress, watches what everyone else takes. BERTI, 81 in the same dress, scoops a heaping pile of bean casserole. BERTI: Mmm. This sure looks good. AGNES: It looks exactly the same as the last time you made it. BERTI: Hush up. You should try this, Mr. Dalton. MR. DALTON, 72 and quite distinguished, inches along just in front of Agnes. He looks across the table at Berti. MR. DALTON: That’s your famous bean casserole? AGNES: Infamous. Berti glows. Mr. Dalton opens his mouth to speak and is distracted by Agnes pushing him forward. MRS. WOODWARD, 53, peering over half glasses, reaches for the bean casserole spoon. Agnes steps back, bumping her. AGNES: I’m sorry. Mrs. Woodward ignores her completely. MRS. WOODWARD: Save some of that for me now, Mr. Dalton. BERTI: I can always make another one for you if he wants to take it all. Berti flutters her eyelashes at Mr. Dalton. He tips his head and reaches for the spoon. Agnes sneezes onto the exposed casserole. BERTI: You’ve ruined it! AGNES: Made it better, if you asked me. Berti searches the table. Finds Agnes’s pecan greenbeans. Berti pours vinegar over it. Agnes dumps the bean casserole on the floor. Mr. Dalton jumps back just barely saving his shoes. BERTI: You… You… Agnes laughs at her. Berti throws a spoonful of mashed potatoes at Agnes. They stick to her hair, gravy runs down the inside of her dress. Hands fly across the table and both women crash through the feast, hands clawing at hair, faces, necklaces. Agness casts about for a weapon. Her hand finds jalapeno corn salsa and she grinds it into Berti’s mouth. Berti splutters, loses her teeth, and shoves a handful of stewed apples at Agatha. The table collapses and the two women fall on each other. Dishes break, shards of pottery stab through worn fabric and folds of flesh, but they fight on. 20 years of rivalry bursting like Berti’s girdle. MISS IRENE, 98, deaf and nearly blind, bends to pick up a piece of cornbread that has somehow survived the melee. She shuffles slowly to her seat through the crowd of shocked parishioners.

SCENE 5 For some reason, I had a really tough time with this one... INT. ROCK CLUB - NIGHT The club is almost completely empty. A couple of people break down equipment onstage. A guy pushes a broom across the floor. ETHAN enters the room slowly, looking around. His eyes land on two guys (LEO and DAVE) sitting by the bar, empty beer glasses in front of them. Two guitar cases are propped up against the bar. He goes over to them. They turn and look at him, glaring. LEO: Where the hell were you? Ethan looks at the floor. LEO: Where were you? DAVE: The least you could do is come up with an excuse. ETHAN: There is no excuse. LEO: You’re damn right, there isn’t. And this just keeps happening. ETHAN: I’m sorry. LEO: Yeah, so am I. I’m sorry that we had to stand around all night, watching other bands have their chance, while we had to explain to everyone that our drummer couldn’t be bothered to show up. Dave puts a hand on Leo’s shoulder. DAVE: Relax. Leo shrugs him off. There’s a moment of tense silence. ETHAN: So, um, when’s rehearsal? We should get - Leo lunges for Ethan; his fist slams into Ethan’s face with a crack. Ethan reels backward, blood gushing from his nose, landing on the floor with a thud. Dave steps in front of Leo, holding him back. DAVE: Come on. Stop. He slowly calms, stops straining against Dave. Ethan gets up from the floor, slowly. Suddenly, his arm darts out, aiming for Leo. His fist lands on the side of Dave’s face instead. DAVE: What the hell? ETHAN: You want to fight me? Let’s go. He throws himself forward at Leo and Dave, fists flying. Leo finally manages to get past Dave, and starts to pummel Ethan, who manages to throw a few punches. Dave, caught in the melee, gets knocked down by Ethan, and sends a bar stool clattering to the floor. He jumps back up, and tries to protect Leo. A few men come running, pull them apart. Leo, Dave, and Ethan struggle against them, trying to continue. One of the men is the bartender. BARTENDER: Hey! Hey! Enough! Out, all of you! Leo and Dave grab their jackets and guitars, and stalk away. Ethan stands there, dazed. In the doorway, Dave turns. DAVE: You’re out of the band.

Scene 5 EXT. NORTHERN MISSISSIPPI - WOODS - NIGHT CORPORAL WILLIAM BROTHERS (21), 48th Indiana Infantry, flutters his eyes as he awakens on the forest floor. He winces as he touches the gash at his forehead, takes a look at the blood and wipes it on his blue pants. He struggles to his knees as he surveys the scene: dead Union and Confederate soldiers scattered among the trees and underbrush. William commandeers a rifle, ensures the bayonet is secure, and walks low through the midnight mist. He calls out in a loud whisper. WILLIAM: 48th. (beat, louder) 48th! CLICK. Behind him. He turns to see a rebel OFFICER (30) crouched in the fog, aiming a Colt revolver at him. The Officer whacks the gun with the heel of his palm and aims again - CLICK. William rushes the man with his bayonet. The Officer quickly stands and spins out of the way, giving William a good shove as he passes. William stumbles into a tree, turns to face his foe as the man pulls a sword from his belt. The Officer lunges at him with his saber. William deflects it with his rifle and sinks his shoulder into the rebel's chest, knocking him to the ground. William raises his rifle, thrusts down at the man with the bayonet but the Officer rolls out of the way, slashing through the meat of William's thigh with his sword. William groans and falls to one knee, looks - the Officer is there, swinging down from over his head. William lifts the rifle horizontally to block the blow - CLINK - the blade snaps in half, sending a shard flying past William's ear. The Officer drops the sword and throws himself on top of William, wrapping his dirty hands around the yankee's neck. William struggles to free his arms, pinned underneath the rifle, as he starts to black out. The Officer is breathing heavily, exhausted. He lets out a groan as he squeezes hard, then his grip relaxes. Adrenaline-fueled blood rushes to William's head. He throws his knees up and pushes the Officer off him. The men lie on their backs for a beat, squirming, huffing, trying to muster enough strength to finish the fight. William rolls over, gets on his knees, lifts the rifle. OFFICER: No. The Officer springs up, grabs the rifle, they both fall to the ground in a tug of war over the weapon. The rebel gives a firm pull and the gun slips out of William's grasp. He rolls to his back as the Officer gets to his knees. William sees the shard of the sword next to him, he grabs it, thrusts himself up with a war-cry and jabs it into the Officer's neck. William falls on the man, hacking at his throat like a woodpecker. The Officer is gurgling in an excruciating death. William drops the shard from his bloody hand and picks up the rifle. With his last strength he sinks the bayonet into the Officer's heart, ending the man's misery. William collapses, head resting on the dead Confederate's stomach as he sucks in oxygen. RUSTLING and HUSHED VOICES emanate from the fog. VOICE: 48th. William only manages a whisper. WILLIAM: Hoosier. VOICE: (louder) 48th! William builds up all the energy he can and calls out-- WILLIAM: Hoosier!

EXT. BASKETBALL COURTS/PARK - DAY It’s a sunny, weekend afternoon. Lots of men in their late-teens to mid-thirties playing pickup. There’s random groups of conspicuous-looking men huddled in the rafters or around trees. Groups of cute girls flirting with guys. GERRY sits in the rafters, sipping a from beer in a brown paper bag. Gerry eyes everyone in the park, like a lion stalking its next prey from afar. He scans over the basketball courts, over the kids sitting on the sidelines, then to the groups of kids in hoodies, huddled in the other set of rafters. One of the kids looks over to Gerry, and the two make eye contact. Gerry’s eyes grow wide and his nostrils flare up; he smells blood. Gerry stares the kid down, and the kid stares back. The kid is putting up a courageous effort, and even Gerry seems to be surprised by how long the kid holds eye contact. The kid looks away, feeling embarrassed and scared. Gerry grins in victory. Gerry continues to scan the yard. His gaze intercepts the toned, mostly-exposed body of one of the Latina girls who is most likely in her early-twenties. Gerry looks the girl up and down, studying every curve on her body, staring at her perfectly round ass and cleavage hung out for all to see. He’s practically licking his lips. He notices a man standing next to the girl, likely her boyfriend, who looks back at Gerry with a protective, angry glare. Gerry, not being one to turn down a challenge, returns the gaze with an even more aggressive, hostile look in his eyes. The boyfriend however, doesn’t relent, and furrows his brow, as if daring Gerry to come fight him. Gerry stands up. The boyfriend spits in Gerry’s direction. Gerry marches down the rafters, and the boyfriend trudges towards Gerry, and the two meet halfway on one of the unoccupied courts. The two men stare each other down, and a crowd soon forms. BOYFRIEND You like staring at my girl, you stupid fuck? No response from Gerry, who just stares the man down. The crowd begins yelling and cheering for the boyfriend to fight Gerry. BOYFRIEND (CONT’D) Come on, faggot, you deaf? Gerry stares at the girl, who looks nervous and violated. He then leans into the boyfriend’s face. GERRY I bet she’s got a loose fucking cunt, huh? Furious, the boyfriend looks ready to throw a punch. But before he can... Gerry throws a haymaker right to the jaw of the boyfriend, making an audible CRACK noise. The boyfriend immediately drops to the floor, his head slamming into the concrete. Gasps from the crowd. Gerry, at first, gloats in victory, puffing up his chest and standing over the defeated man like an animal standing over it’s next meal. But Gerry soon realizes that something isn’t right, as does the rest of the crowd. Blood pours from the man’s face and he doesn’t move at all. Fearing the worst, people rush to his limp body, and soon their are cries and nervous screaming heard. Gerry quickly realizes what he has done and runs away from the crowd. Nobody bothers chasing after him, both out of fear and as everyone is on hand trying to tend to the bloodied body lying in the middle of the basketball court. GIRL 1 Call 911! GIRL 2 Oh my god! Gerry is soon far away, with the sound of the screams in the background.

SCENE FIVE INT. SPORTS BAR – NIGHT SCOTT, JEFF, and DYLAN, all in their 20s, sit at a table in the back of a small, poorly lit sports bar. Scott’s back is to the door. All three absent-mindedly drink beers and eat from the basket of chips in the center of the table, eyes trained on the basketball game airing on a large TV. A player shoots and the ball bounces off the rim. JEFF: OHHH – come on! SCOTT: Damnit! Dylan slams his fist against the table in frustration. Suddenly, an angry voice from behind Scott: VOICE: HEY, asshole! Scott turns around just as MARK’s fist connects with his chin. Scott tumbles off his stool and hits the ground. His beer spills across the table. Jeff and Dylan both jump away from the table, watching in shock as Mark drags Scott off the ground and slams him against the wall. SCOTT: What the fuck, man? Scott raises his hand to cover his face as Mark takes another swing at him. Jeff and Dylan make eye contact and they both rush forward and pull Mark away from Scott, who now has blood trickling down his chin. MARK (to Jeff and Dylan): It’s fine, you can back off. DYLAN: What the hell was that for? Jeff and Dylan hesitantly let go of Mark, who stands calmly for a second. Scott stares at the ground, avoiding eye contact. Mark glares for a second before diving toward him again. Jeff and Dylan struggle to hold him back. JEFF: Whoa! MARK: I could fucking kill you. Scott tries and fails to hold back a small smirk. SCOTT: Calm down, man. MARK: Go to hell. Scott raises his hands, indicating innocence. SCOTT (smugly): Hey, it was consensual. And, actually, she started it. Mark tries to get to Scott again, but Jeff and Dylan hold him back, looking from Mark to Scott for an explanation. JEFF: What’s he talking about? DYLAN: Who started it? MARK: My sister! Scott snickers but Jeff unexpectedly lets go of Mark, who rushes forward, and Scott’s smile disappears. He ducks under the table and barely gets away. Mark races after him. Dylan looks at Jeff, who shrugs. JEFF: I’ve got a sister, too.

For those of you going for the 10 scene challenge, and your 1 free Core class, you are halfway there, assuming you have posted 5 scenes. And if you're going for the 20 scene challenge, you are 1/4 of the way there. Keep writing!

[Scene 5 || AN: Fountain.io formatting tags may appear. EXT. WEST BANK OF MISSISSIPPI RIVER - OCTOBER 1814, PRE-DAWN TWILIGHT Having just relieved himself, a groggy 30-something RICHARD returns slowly to the camp where his SQUAD of British soldiers masquerading as fur trappers remain sleeping. Dressed in a filthy red coat, a silent figure pokes around satchels next to the SQUAD's canoes along the river's bank when RICHARD realizes it is the object of their pursuit, 30-something AWOL British soldier, GEORGE. RICHARD slinks down slowly beneath brush through which he has been walking, watching GEORGE as he sneaks up on the red coat. Once RICHARD is within several yards of GEORGE, RICHARD lunges from the underbrush at the red coated man. GEORGE looks up at same time, the crunching of drying leaves and snapping twigs drawing his attention. RICHARD grabs GEORGE to prevent the red coat from fleeing. RICHARD (yelling) To arms! To arms! The sleeping camp stirs awake, the SQUAD roused by the rustling ruckus RICHARD and GEORGE create as they tumble along the ground. RICHARD sits atop GEORGE, swinging a fist at the red coat's face, landing one blow squarely along GEORGE’s jaw. GEORGE squirms, then rolls as RICHARD’s second solid throw only grazes GEORGE’s cheek, scrabbling as he struggles to grab RICHARD's neck. RICHARD and GEORGE continue grappling along the ground, neither gaining the upper hand. The SQUAD members flounder for their outerwear and weapons, still sleepy and disoriented. RICHARD flips GEORGE on his back, sits astride his chest. RICHARD (yelling at SQUAD) Look for the French! The French! The SQUAD scatters in all directions outside the camp, chasing unseen FRENCH agents provocateurs. GEORGE takes advantage of the disruption and rolls both men over the steep edge of the river's bank. They tumble ass-over-tea-kettle until both men hit the water. RICHARD loses his grip on GEORGE, the red coat's lapels tearing away in his hands. GEORGE gasps for air and ducks beneath the river's surface, swimming away with the current, out of sight save for a ripple here and there. RICHARD lets GEORGE go, watching him as long as he can. GEORGE bobs up, splashing and laughing, hundreds of yards downstream, before floating further out of reach. RICHARD stands mute, weighing his next move. > FADE TO BLACK.

Scene 2 (Physical Violence) INT. WAREHOUSE It's dark save for a bright spotlight in the center. The flood is dusted with sand. Four pillars complete the makeshift ring. Two men circle each other like lions circling their prey, clad in dark, ratty pants. Their bare chests, slashed with paint (red on one, blue for the other), heave with adrenaline. a tiny string of lights run from the back of their necks and disappear into their skin along their spine. They will be known as RED and BLUE. Above the ring, cameras capture every moment. PHILLIP(O.S.): This girl....man she was smokin'. She did this thing with her tongue... VIC (O.S.): Was that Yvette? I heard she was a hot one. PHILLIP (O.S.): I'm not sure....but she can be whoever she wants. AUTHUR (O.S): Would you two shut up and get to it. I'm fucking bored. INT: PLAYERS' CLUB-SAME TIME Typical sports bar atmosphere. Like Buffalo Wild Wings, but on steroids. Drinks flow from bar taps on tables and food appears in just as quick. Two men stand in front of a huge screen. A crown of tiny lights circle they heads, identical to the ones on the fighters. ON SCREEN: the two fighters circling each other. A timer in the corner of the screen counts down from 10:00. Phillip, 30's, slender with a graceful, upper class manner, stands holding red wine as he speaks. Vic, 20's, is the opposite. Built like Stallone, with a street edge. He's clutching a mug overflowing with beer. Arthur, athletic, a “don’t bullshit me” attitude, stands behind them…waiting. Dozens of patrons stand behind them gazing at the same image on other screens. They wait for the fight to start. PHILLIP: My apologies, Arthur. VIC: Yeah sorry. They both turn to the screen. PHILLIP: (to Vic) Shall we? CUT TO: INT. WAREHOUSE Red suddenly bows gracefully. He grunts at this unexpected movement. Just as suddenly, Blue lunges and crashes into him. Red slams into the ground as Blue pins him down. Blue begins driving his fist into Red's torso with a series of punches. PHILLIP (O.S): Straight to it then? VIC (O.S): Street style. No time for pleasantries. Red brings his fist up to block as he kicks Blue off. Red jumps to his feet, ready. But something is off. His head lops to the side, then suddenly it snaps to attention. PHILLIP: (O.S) Agh! Where did they get this batch from? He can't even take a punch. Both fighters throw jabs and punches. Each ducking, bobbing, and weaving. Red lands a right to the jaw. Blue tries an upper cut, but Red fades out the way. Red counters with a front kick. Blue blocks. Red swings, but Blue grabs and locks his arm, exposing his chest. Then Blue delivers a crushing blow to Red's chest. He screams in pain. Red tackles Blue and the two fighters wrestle. Close quarter grappling trying to make the other surrender. They slip in and out of holds like greased pigs. CUT TO: INT. PLAYERS CLUB Phillip and Vic stare intensely at their screen. Their tiny light headbands shining brighter. They twitch slightly as the fighters execute vicious MMA moves. The crowd behind them is ruckus. They shout as the fighters pummel each other. These men aren’t fighters….they’re play things. Suddenly, Blue rams his foot into Red's crotch. Red goes down hard. Phillip begins yelling: Philip (to Arthur): Hey, illegal hit! Illegal hit !! The edges of the screen go yellow. The word 'penalty' flashes across the screen. The main timer freezes at 2:00. Robotic Voice: 30 seconds. Blue's arms immediately spring up and out to his sides. He struggles to stop it, but he's helpless. Red gets to his feet. He's in obvious pain but he has not control over himself. Phillip: Ha. Now let's see what you make of this. Red stumbles over, still reeling from the kick, and treats Blue like a human punching bag as he backs him into a pillar. Right. Left. Hook. Uppercut. Blue's face becomes a bloody, swollen lump of flesh. Seconds tick off on the screen: 27, 26, 25 Blue falls to the ground like a brick. Arms still akimbo. Red then unleashes a fury of kicks to Blue's mid-section. Phillip is enjoying himself too much. He's not paying attention the timer, but Vic is. 10, 9, 8, 7..... Vic watches as his man gets jacked up. Time is slowly ticking away. ......1 The yellow screen goes away and Blue suddenly grabs Red’s leg and drags him to the ground. Blue has sustained major damage, but still has to fight. Red kicks out connecting with Blue's shoulder. Blue howls in pain, but doesn't let go. Red stumps on his hand. This time Blue's hand opens. It's broken. VIC: dammit Vic tries to regroup but Blue is too damaged. Blue tries to stands but his ribs are broken. The pain is too much. He falls back to the ground. VIC: Get up! Get up! He glances at the clock. 15 seconds. PHILLIP:(victoriously) HA HA On screen Red throws his arms out in bravado as he circles Blue. Philip raises his hands above his head. Victory is near. He checks the clock. Time for one more maneuver. He drags Blue to his knees, then circles behind him. He claps both hands together over his head and with exacting force drops them like a hammer on Blue's neck. Blue crumbles to the ground. The tiny lights blink out. Vic's lights blink out too. The connection has been severed. The room erupts in cheers and groans. Phillip dances around arrogantly. Vic rips off his headband...defeated.

- SCENE 5 - INT. OFFICE - NIGHT LYLE sits on the sill of an office window, ten floors up. KEVIN carefully approaches from behind. He comes within a few feet of Lyle, and lunges at him. Kevin wraps his arm around Lyle's neck. He yanks him back, throwing him to the floor. Kevin jumps on top of him, pinning Lyle's arms down. They lock eyes. LYLE: What the- Kevin spits in Lyle's face. Lyle throws his body weight to one side. Kevin isn't strong enough to hold him. He gives way. They stand up. They study each other. LYLE: Kevin, listen- Kevin grabs the closest object to him, a stapler, and hurls it at Lyle. It hits him square in the forehead. Lyle's eyes widen. Lyle drives at Kevin, picks him up, and forces him into an office chair. Lyle slogs Kevin's jaw. LYLE: You want to be a hero? He gives Kevin another blow to the head. LYLE (cont.): Answer me! You want to be a hero? Kevin is silent. Lyle pummels him until Kevin passes out. Lyle is out of breath. He stares at Kevin's ravaged face. LYLE: My God.

SCENE THREE (Write a fight scene involving actual physical violence) EXT. PARK - DAY STEVE and DAVE, both in their mid-20’s and athletic with toned bodies, stand ten yards apart. They vigorously throw a football back and forth. Steve catches the ball but holds on to it. STEVE This is boring. DAVE Yeah, I feel like I’m ten years old playing catch with my dad. Steve chuckles. His eyes light up with what he believes to be a good idea. STEVE What do ya say we have a little competition? Dave gives his full attention to Steve. STEVE (CONT’D) Whoever can hit a random person on the head with this here football will win. DAVE That’s a horrible idea. STEVE Winner gets a hundred dollars. DAVE I’ll go first. Steve tosses Dave the football. Dave spots a couple having a picnic. He has his target. Dave winds up to throw. He releases the ball and it goes flying into their potato salad. The salad explodes all over their clothes. Dave missed their heads. DAVE (CONT’D) Sorry about that. JOHN Don’t worry about it. John grabs the football and throws it back to Dave. Dave catches it and turns to Steve. DAVE I don’t want to play this. I feel like a dick now. STEVE Fine by me. Get your money out because I’m about to hit that old guy on the bench. An OLD MAN sits on a park bench feeding the pigeons. He holds a cane in his right hand. Steve releases the ball with full force. The ball flies over the old mans head. The old man looks angrily at Steve as he runs to grab the ball. He runs back to Dave who is laughing hysterically. Steve sees this and gets angry. He tries to throw the ball at Dave’s head but Dave’s reflexes are too fast. The ball lands in the middle of the two friends. They dive for the ball. Their hands meet on the football, there is no clear advantage. Steve manages to pry the football away from Dave’s hands. He gives a sly smile and charges up to throw the ball. His release is stopped by the old man with the cane. The old man smacks Steve’s rib cage, causing him to go down with a whimper. The old man laughs at Steve and then walks back to his bench. The football rolls to Dave. Dave picks it up, spins it in his hand, and throws the ball at Steve’s face. STEVE (CONT’D) (Moaning) That hurt. DAVE That’ll be one hundred dollars... Steve pulls out his wallet and gives Dave the money.

Scene #5: “High Dusk” INT. – SALOON – DUSK The Montana Moon Saloon is done up for Christmas. A steam-powered robot plays the piano. DREADFUL DAN, in top hat and goggles, and MAD MORRIS are playing out a poker hand. MORRIS: Ten Abes, eh? I'll jes' call ya, Dreadful Dan. Mad Morris's mechanical arm whirs and buzzes, discharging a fistful of Abe Lincoln dollar coins into the pot, CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING-CHING. MORRIS: Whatcha got, Dan? Dan's eyes gleam behind his goggles as he fans out three of his cards. He laughs. DAN: (singing badly) ??“We three kings of orient are...”?? He lays down the cards, three kings, as advertised, puffs at his cigar. MORRIS: Dang, Dan. I thought you were a-bluffin'. Dan reaches for the pot with both hands. Morris holds up a hand, a real one. MORRIS: Jussa minute thar, Dan. Dan hesitates. Morris plops his cards on the table. MORRIS: Heh-heh, I got me three Angels over a pair of Marys. A full manger, Dan. DAN: Morris, you are a cheat, a card-shark, and a thimblerigger. MORRIS: Them's fightin' nouns, Dreadful Dan. DAN: Shall we meet out in the street with deadly weapons and settle this like gentlemen? EXT. – MAIN STREET – STILL DUSK The combatants exit the saloon wearing heavy backpacks and toting six-guns. Power cables run from the backpacks to the guns. The bartender follows them out in a lab coat, admonishing them. BARTENDER: ...no eye gougin', no drop kicks to the testicles, and no thermonuclear weapons of any kind. No cussin' with adverbs. No playin' dead an' then jumpin' up an' scarin' the shit outa ever'body... He continues to jabber as Dan and Morris face off in the growing dark about thirty feet apart. DAN: Shut up, MacAfee. We know the rules. BARTENDER: Okay, okay. Ready? One... Morris draws his six-shooter and fires three times, lighting up the twilight with green, blue and red laser bursts at Dan. Electronic POCKA-TWEE! sounds accompany each shot, and dust devils arise where the lasers strike the ground. Dan rolls to one side, drawing as he goes, hampered by the backpack. Morris draws his second gun and blasts away two-handed as Dan scurries behind a horse trough. Onlookers hunt for cover. DAN: Missed me, you crapulent turd! Dan peers over the top of the trough and fires twice, missing Morris, but demolishing the posts that hold up the saloon porch roof. It collapses. Morris runs towards another trough, firing wildly behind him as he goes. Reaching cover, he holds a gun to his ear, listening to the high-pitched WHINE that indicates it's recharging. MORRIS: I'm a-gonna punctuate your hide, you varmint! He rises slightly and lets off a round. The beam hits the side of Dan's trough and blasts through it, creating an explosion and sending a plume of hot water high into the air. Dan abandons what's left of the trough and runs down the street to hide behind a woman in a bustle. She runs towards the saloon and Dan stays with her, firing around her at Morris as she goes. WOMAN: Are you nuts? This is against the ordinances. DAN: I've got higher priorities, ma'am. He fires several times, puncturing the second trough in several places. Water arcs out of the holes. As the woman crosses the street, Dan gets a better angle on Morris's hiding spot. Morris takes off and hides behind a second woman. She tries to get away from him, but he runs along behind her as he and Dan trade laser shots until their batteries are dead and their shots get feeble. The women doff their bustles and run away. Dan and Morris stand there, waiting for recharge. Plumes of smoke rise from their recharger backpacks. The whines grow higher and higher in pitch. MORRIS: You know, soon's I recharge, I'm a-gonna vaporize you. DAN: Give it your best shot, you horse's posterior. The whines stop, and their pistols spit polychrome laser fire in all directions as they dodge and weave. Soon all of Main Street is afire. They take cover behind two large piles of horse patoots and trade shots, hitting each other's backpack. Alarms sound and more smoke belches from the backpacks. They shrug them off and run for their lives. The backpacks explode, destroying the Montana Moon Saloon.

#2 EXT. GANG WAREHOUSE TITO, young, slender, wrought with muscles like branches of the desert mesquite waits under the stares of the Warehouse Guards. The door opens. CHUCHO steps out. He's tough, slick - a true Vato. A collage of TATTOOS make up the sleeves his tank-top couldn't afford. An ENTOURAGE OF VATOS follows close behind. Some are clean, some are dirty; a contrast of social classes. Most are from the town but the more "civilized" are the muscle brought in from the city. CHUCHO You check him for weapons? The Gang Members nod. Chucho walks up to Tito, kicks the dog away. He circles Tito, sizes him up. CHUCHO (CONT’D) You're the sheriff's brother, huh? And, you want to join us? Tito shrugs his shoulders. TITO He’s not hiring. CHUCHO (to a Guard) Give me your gun. Chucho hands it to Tito. CHUCHO So, tough guy. You know how to use that? Tito hands the gun back. TITO I don't use guns. CHUCHO You don’t use guns? Some of the surrounding vatos chuckle at Chucho’s surprise. CHUCHO (CONT’D) Flaco! A scrappy guy from the town steps face to face with Tito. Tito looks him up and down. TITO I ain't gonna fight him. CHUCHO Then you’re no good to me. He turns back to the warehouse. TITO I said I won't fight him. I want to fight him. Tito points to the biggest, baddest looking PITBULL of a motherfucker. CHUCHO (excited at the prospect of blood.) Okay! (to Pitbull) Kick his ass, we need to get back to work. Pitbull steps forward with ground shaking steps. The Gang circles around to watch this fool fight the strong man. Pitbull wastes no time. He rushes at Tito, but misses. Tito's feet are fast. Like a mad bull, he rushes at Tito again. This time Tito drops to the dirt locking his legs with Pitbull's. Pitbull falls face first into the ground. Lip busts open in the dirt. Tito, still entangled with Pitbull's legs, fights hard to keep the lock on. Pitbull writhes in agony, stuck on his belly barely able lift his face from the gravel. Tito sets his hold. TITO Give up. Pitbull, stubborn, won't give. TITO (CONT’D) Give up, pendejo, or you'll break your leg. Pitbull, looks up at an unsympathetic Chucho. He makes one last effort to roll Tito. SNAP! The onlookers wince. Never heard a man scream like this. Tito quickly loosens his leg lock. Pitbull's right leg falls limp in a way you never want to see a leg fall limp. Tito jumps to his feet, not sure what might come of this. CHUCHO Congratulations. (to the Gang) Show’m some love. The gang lines up to congratulate Tito. BANG! Tito jumps and turns to find Chucho, smoking gun in hand, over the suddenly silent Pitbull. Tito is grabbed from behind in a powerful bear-hug by a Guard. The welcome party proceeds to march forward, one by one slugging Tito in the gut... the face... his side... He is a human punching bag. Sweat beads down his forehead, blood drips down his cheeks.

INT. OFFICES – SMALL CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY The room has no windows and a small table. Allison saunters in followed by William, who clasps a folder of documents. They sit. WILLIAM: Thank you for seeing me on short notice. I wanted to let you know we decided to hire Gwen. ALLISON: Oh great. I like her. WILLIAM: And thank you for your presentation on your projects. I wanted to make sure our other programmers could handle it. You see, we to have to let you go. I have a letter here and some materials. We have a resume service. Allison remains silent and straight faced as she scans the materials. WILLIAM: Did you have any questions? ALLISON: No. Well… WILLIAM: Look I know this might have caught you by surprise. ALLISON: Not really, but… WILLIAM: It’s actually Cyndi who spearheaded the initiative called the One-hundred, One-hundred, Corporate Best Practice. One hundred percent of staff at one hundred percent commitment. ALLISON: One hundred percent commitment? William, my daughter has cancer. William doesn't hear her, or doesn't want to. WILLIAM: That’s right, it's the latest Wall Street rage. So, any more questions? Allison, silently fixated, glares at him in thought. WILLIAM: In that case, I will accompany you to your desk where you can turn over your laptop. INT. ALLISON’S CUBE - DAY The two of them saunter into her cube. Allison unlocks the laptop with her key as a vigilant William observes. In one swipe, Allison wrenches the laptop out of its dock, swings it around with all her might, and sledge hammers William in the jaw. BAM! He spins around and down, dazed, in pain, trying to yell, but unable due to the injury. She raises the laptop carefully over her head, and holds it there, waiting. William barely manages to inch his head up to look at her, blood streaming from his jaw, his eyes tearful with an intense pain. Allison drives the laptop down on him with all the force she can muster. His skull and the laptop CRACK and crackle. He is out. Blood streams from his head. He thumps to the floor. Allison gently slides the laptop onto the desk. She collapses into her chair. She closes her eyes and calms herself into a deep intense restful meditation. William moans. Her maniacal eyes fly open wide. ALLISON: William, please! One hundred percent commitment! She stomps his head and he’s out again. More blood. He is lifeless. INT./EXT. CYNDI’S CUBE – DAY At the entrance to CYNDI's cube is a bold red and yellow striped sign that reads: “EMERGENCY FLOOR WARDEN.” Another more sophisticated sign reads “Cyndi Henson, CTO.” Cyndi nervously types, then stops. She swings her chair around. Allison looms over her. A backpack is on her back; a lovely smile on her face. ALLISON: Hi Cyndi. I just heard about the one-hundred, one hundred initiative. Cyndi stands, scared, confused, speechless. Allison grabs her by the throat and pins her to the cubicle wall. But the wall is jello and Cyndi worms her way free with a right hook to Allison’s jaw. Allison teeters backwards. She recovers, cocks and cracks her neck. Cyndi advances for more. Allison catches Cyndi’s shoulders with both hands driving Cyndi’s momentum headfirst into a column. Cyndi’s head cracks. She is dumbfounded. Allison forages for a gas mask and also discovers a set of keys in the emergency cabinets. She dons the mask, pulls a canister from her own backpack, pulls its ring trigger, and throws it into the aisle, where it explodes an intense smoke. Allison twists her hand and wrist around Cyndi’s long hair and drags her, kicking, screaming, and coughing, down the smoke filled aisle. The fire alarm blares out a deafening pulsating screech in rhythm with blinding white strobes. A guard’s voice commands an evacuation over the PA system. INT. STAIRWELL – DAY Allison emerges from company doors into a fire escape stairwell, with Cyndi by the hair in painful tow. She locks the doors behind her and then peers 29 floors down into the stairwell opening. A few floors below, amidst the more distant echoing alarm, she hears people clomping down the stairs, and complaining about having to do so. Her own coworkers yell, scream, and bang on the office doors behind her. Allison maneuvers at top of the stairs, places Cyndi carefully, and steps back. As Cyndi tries to regain her balance, Allison takes a running leap, feet first, into Cyndi. Cyndi flies down the stairs tumbling with more head blows as Allison is able to recover. Allison looks to see Cyndi at rest, a half flight down. She goes to her and wrenches her dead weight over the edge of the railing. Cyndi falls a few more flights knocking into railings on the way down, setting off screams from those below. Satisfied, Allison goes back up to unlock the office doors as a throng of coworkers flee from the smoke, coughing, gasping for breath, and filling the stairwell with more smoke. ALLISON: Keep moving keep moving. Help your buddy. Keep moving to the bottom. They keep moving, coughing, yelling and complaining to Allison, the authority in the gas mask. ALLISON: Commitment people! We need on hundred percent commitment!

Be careful! You haven't written the count of ur scene, I.e, scene 1, scne 2. This must be scene 5 if youve been following this series from the beginning.

This prompt was a good challenge, so I wanted to try another take on it, with more violence and less chatting: (still) SCENE 4 ‘urban samurai’ INT. APARTMENT - VERY EARLY MORNING Dark. Through the large open windows we hear birds waking up. The sparse furniture only visible as silhouettes against the dawning sky. The living room. In the middle a single bed facing the front door. On the bed sits JAKE (34) a slim built Asian, in silhouette. His eyes fixed on the door. Body perfectly still. His long black hair in a tight braid resting on his back. Without notice the doorbell rings. A very shrill sound in the silent apartment. Jake doesn’t even blink. Fluently he gets up and opens the door. Nobody there. A beat, then Jake leans forward, peering into the hallway. He’s taken by surprise as a huge HAND covers his face, and pushes him back inside. The owner of the hand, MEDI (31) closes the door. Click Lowers his hand. We now see both men, hardly a meter apart. Medi tall and muscular, Jake very short in comparison. Both of them only wear socks. HIGH SPEED BALLET OF: Jake jumping backward onto the bed -- launching himself in the air -- kicking Medi in the neck -- Medi smashing into a shelve -- breaking glass -- Then: Medi takes out a KNIFE, throws himself onto Jake -- Jake blocks the Knife -- Medi pushes Jake toward the KITCHEN by his weight-- eyes wild -- Jake slams into the counter, scrambles with his free hand on the countertop, grabbing hold of a bread knife -- swinging it like sword-- A huge cut in Medi’s hand holding the knife -- the knife falling on the floor -- Jake strikes again-- a lot of blood -- Medi down-- A beat Jake breathing heavily The sound of a garbage truck outside The kitchen looking tiny with this huge man in it. Jake comes out of the KITCHEN dragging Medi by the feet toward the WINDOW in the living room -- Medi (still alive!) grabs hold of an electric cord -- swings it around Jake’s neck, pulling him over -- Jake on his knees, Medi strangling him with the cord -- CLOSE UP of Jake closing his eyes, unconscious? No. Focussing. Medi loosens his grip --Jake explodes-- slicing the air with his legs-- Both men standing -- Medi punches Jake in the face, smearing his own blood on it -- Jake backs off toward the window. Looks out of the window. At least 6 floors between us and the empty street. Jake feints a new attack-- Medi in reflex leaps toward him -- Jake ducks -- Medi is propelled halfway out of the window by his momentum -- hangs out of the window -- Jake lifts Medi’s legs. -- Medi struggles to stay inside -- trying to get grip of the concrete window sill with his bleeding hands -- Falls down, the sound of the coat flapping in the wind for a moment. A dull thud. Jake walks out of the apartment into the HALLWAY At the end stand a pair of BOOTS. Medi’s. Huge. Jake steps into them. Walks down the stairs, onto the street. A bright new day.

I like that these characters really have a reason to fight, not just an insult but a real problem.

I agree with janjohannes

SCENE 5________________________________ Two kids, JANE and KATE are walking down an empty road surrounded by trees. JANE is holding a book, wearing an elegant little frock while KATE is wearing a plane dress. They sit down by a tree. JANE opens the book, she turns the pages as a worried expression takes over. KATE is humming looking to the sky. JANE flips the books over, as the pages hang down and shakes it hoping something might come out. She looks to KATE, annoyed. JANE Give them to me! KATE (confused) What? What are you suggesting JANE You know EXACTLY what I'm "suggesting", Kate. I've been saving those money, Kate! Give em back. KATE I dont have them Jane, you can do whatever you want. With that, a pir of hands sprinted to Late and pushed her, hard- she fell- Kate couldn't resist and a fine fist hit her in he abodemon. JANE moaned in pain. To return her JANE threw her hardest punh at KATE'S abodemon. She sat on her punching her for a confession. JANE Give them back…give them back(over and over again) Giving up she got off her. KATE hardly able to stand up, Spit blood. JANE You don't have them, do you? Kate is coughing constantly. Jane notices the blood and with concern pampers her. JANE We should get you to a doctor. I am sorry She breaks into tears KATE no, I am Sorry! (Sobbing) I stole your money… I needed it… My mom…(sobbing hard)my mother… she… JANE shhhhhh… Its ok, Kate. I'll tell my mom, she'll give you so MUCH money and your mom(sighs, swallowing her tears) will be happy… __________________________________________ Thank you for taking the time for reading this =)

Jeff: Nice job. Love the steampunk imagery.

SCENE 5 INT: LIVING ROOM:DAY Two best friends are auditioning for an upcoming reality show. Both are in their early 20’s, attractive and are hooked on the reality genre. When word got out that a new show was being made and they were looking for participants, the two decide to send in an audition tape. ANDREA: Girl before we start the video we have to stage an argument. You know to make ourselves seem more interesting. TISHA Ok I can do that. I can flip a table too if you want. ANDREA: No need for that. Remember this furniture belongs to the Rent A Center and not us. TISHA Girl start the video. I have a date with Marcus later and we need to get this show on the road. ANDREA: You dating Marcus? TISHA Yeah we’re back on. ANDREA: I thought you two were long over. TISHA You thought wrong. ANDREA: Well anyway, let’s get started. As Andrea sets up the camera, their third roommate Lexus who recently moved in arrives. Lexus is also Marcus’ ex girlfriend unbeknownst to Tisha and Andrea. TISHA Hey Lex. LEXUS Hey there. What’s with the camcorder? TISHA We’re auditioning for a reality show. LEXUS You bitches and your reality shows. You do know all that shit is fake don’t you? ANDREA: Some of it maybe, but not all of it. LEXUS You two are so stupid. All of that shit is scripted. TISHA Take your negativity elsewhere Lex. LEXUS Excuse me? If you don’t like what I have to say, take your negativity elsewhere. ANDREA: Ok ladies, stop acting like buffoons so I can concentrate on putting this vid together. Andrea begins to set up the camcorder. Once set up Tisha and Andrea introduce themselves and describe the nature of their relationship and why they want to be on the show. While they are doing their thing, the doorbell rings and Lexus goes to answer it. MARCUS I know I’m early... LEXUS Marcus what are you doing here? MARCUS I’m here to pick up Tish. LEXUS What the ...? Is that the bitch you left me for? Tisha is in the middle of speaking when a fist hits her from the side. Before anyone can react, Lexus is on top of Tisha walloping her in the face, stomach, pulling her weave. MARCUS Don’t just stand there Andrea! Help me. ANDREA: No boo. This here is gold. All the while, the camera is recording the whole thing. THE END

INT. Hotel - Gangster's floor - Room 1201 - Night Minji locks the wrist of THUG SIX and kicks his knee to break it. THUG SEVEN and THUG EIGHT fire at Minji and their former partner. She uses Thug Six as a human shield and fires off two shots to kill two of the thugs in the room. Sounds of running feet coming down the hall. THUG NINE emerges from the bathroom. He gets a knife to the throat. Minji pulls a bullpup gun from her bag and dashes into the bathroom as thugs from the other rooms pour in. They get into position and open fire on the bathroom. Wood splinters, parts of the wall and spent shells fly through the room. They stop, and admire their handiwork. THUG TEN slowly approaches the door, opens it even more slowly and peaks in. He's greeted by smoke. It slowly clears and he notices the hole in the wall. It's big enough for a small person, like a woman, to get through into the hotel room next door. Thug Ten turns around and starts to yell at the rest of the gang, but stops. They just look at him, confused. None of them reloaded. At the door is Minji, sword in one hand, handgun in the other. She fires off eight shots and kills four thugs (out of 10), mainly to scatter them a bit. Minji tosses the gun aside. The surviving six thugs scramble to reload. Minji steps into THUG ELEVEN and slices him from shoulder to pelvis. THUG TWELVE takes a swing at her head with his rifle. Minji crouches low, pivots, and slices Thug Twelve at the waist. As he doubles over, Minji finishes him off by cutting his throat. THUG THIRTEEN tries a jump kick to the side of Minji's head. She rises up, pivots again and moves out of the way. He lands on his feet and looks back at Minji. He head lands at his feet. THUG FOURTEEN finishes reloading and opens fire. His shots are wild, spraying the room. Minji runs ahead in a circle, behind THUG FIFTEEN. He catches a few bullets and goes down. THUG SIXTEEN tries to get out of the way, but Minji slices him. Thug Fourteen is empty again. Minji lowers her mask, drops her sword, takes a defensive stance and smiles for him. Thug Fourteen screams and leaps at Minji. His kick is met with air and he lands unbalanced. He makes a lazy swing at Minji, she catches his wrist and holds it. She grabs him at the collar on the same side and sweeps his leg out from under him, sending him to his back. Minji lands on top of him with a knee to pin him down and to crack a few ribs. Minji removes the glove of her right hand with her teeth and draws back her hand (in a knife shape). MINJI: This is for my dog, you son of a bitch. Minji plunges her hand into Thug Fourteen's throat. Minji stands back up and puts her glove on her bloodied hand. MINJI: Now, to have that talk with daddy. Minji walks to the end of the hallway.

Dav 5 7/7 INT. BAR - NIGHT The bar is in full celebration. Things are better. Dulli enters, pulls Cave aside, almost spilling his whiskey. Dulli leans in, shouts. DULLI-They got Jarvis. Cave snaps his head to Dulli, shocked. DULLI-This morning. Right at Grand and Pulaski. Broad daylight. Cave thinks, looks across the room, notices his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Shoots his whiskey, and through his eyes, it is clear, it is time to make things right. INT. PENTHOUSE - NIGHT The white door explodes into the million dollar foyer. As the smoke dissipates, Cave is seen, holding a baseball bat. Thug 1 charges, and Cave gives way, steps back, uses the bat against Thug’s knee making him fall. This is followed by a smooth windmill like bat rotation, which CRUSHES the ankles of thug 1, Cave flows back up, looks into the foyer to see, Thug 2 charging, Cave drops to one knee, and arches the bat upward, It nails Thug 2's solar plexis, lifting him off the ground a good two feet. Then dropping him to the floor. Thug 2 tries to breathe. Cave stands above him, angles the thin end of the bat, like he’s gonna give English to a cue ball, and SPLAT-Crushed Temple. Thug 2 done. FOOTSTEPS ARE HEARD. Cave turns. It’s Blitzen, smiling. Cave turns to him, and tosses the bat. He bends his knees and raises his arms, ready to go, hand to hand. Blitzen does the same, but slowly approaches. They mimic each others movements, almost like a ballet. A FAKE JAB BY BLITZEN, Cave taps it, Blitzen smiles, finally getting to know his opponent. Blitzen, FAKE SWING to Caves head. Cave blocks again. Cave notices his fist are clenched, he slowly leans back, readjusts his feet, and opens his palms. No more fists. Blitzen smiles, clenches his fingers into a meaty fist, then punches straight to Caves face. Cave’s open palm guides Blitzen’s forearm, just to the right of Cave’s face. He is not only deflecting the punch, but also is about to use Blitzen’s momentum against himself. ARM BAR Cave has Blitzen’s wrist in a vice grip, and Caves left arm is now pressuring Blitzens elbow. If Blitzen does not follow Cave’s direction, his arm snaps at the elbow and goes the wrong way. Cave bends him down and does three quick knee crunches to Blitzen’s ribs. BONES BREAK Blitzen strains for air. Cave snaps his arm, drops him. Blitzen tries to scream, but has no oxygen. Cave yanks Blitzen’s head up, grabs his chin, arching him(spine the wrong way). Cave sticks his thumb deep into Blitzen’s right eyeball. He squirms. Cave pushes harder. CAVE-So,...about Jarvis’s tab? Blitzen MUMBLES in pain. Cave, lets up, but just a little. CAVE-Come again? BLITZEN-Farggg you (cough cough) Cave digs into his eye a bit more. Blitzen SQUIRMS AND YELLS. CAVE-I don’t think you see what I’m saying. Or, rather, you might not be seeing anything ever again. I mean, bloody hell, you got two. You can get along just fine with one, no? SQUOOSH. RIGHT EYE IN CAVITY. SCREAMS OF REGRET.

SCENE 5 EXT. MILO'S MAGNIFICENT BAKERY – NIGHT Predawn. The quaint brick bakery sits on the corner of the small town village. A hand-painted sign shows a little fading. It sits above a large glass display window. INT. MILO'S MAGNIFICENT BAKERY – CONTINUOUS Empty counters and chairs fill the front area of the shop. Fresh breads sit in baskets and a display case. A soft CLANG comes from the KITCHEN Pots hangs and shelves are filled with all types of cookie sheets and pots. MILO (28), small in stature, but confident in cooking, carefully uses a rolling pin on a pile of dough. He sprinkles a flour over the dough – SMASH – the sound of glass breaking emits from the front of the store. Milo shoots his head up. He holds the rolling pin in a natural defense. He heads out into to the FRONT OF SHOP A MAN IN BLACK stands among the smashed window with a large knife in hand. He lunges at Milo – – Milo darts out of the way – goes for cover behind a table and chair. Without thinking he chucks the rolling pin – it bounces off the man's chest and lands on the floor. Milo whimpers. MILO: There's no money in the register – The Man in Black lunges at him again. Milo runs – he heads towards the corded phone on the wall. He grabs it, runs with it into the KITCHEN He proceeds to dial. Nothing. He tries again – pulls the cord towards him – it's cut. The Man in Black rips the phone from Milo's hand and shoves him into the hanging pot organizer. Milo's head bounces off multiple pans before he gains his composure. Milo randomly kicks in the air – knocks the knife away from the Man. Milo grabs a cookie sheet and levels the Man on the head. The Man is dazed for moment – gains his composure and grabs Milo around the neck. The two tussle, move back and forth until Milo is slammed into a wall. The Man in Black picks up a butcher knife. Milo picks up a large bread baguette and holds it like a sword. The Man in Black swings the butcher knife – slices the bread right in half. DING! – An oven timer goes off. The Man in Black turns to the sound – Milo takes his chance, tackles the man at the waist. The Man hits the ground hard – Milo stomps on him for good measure. Milo carefully slips on an oven mitt. He pulls out a pan filled with fresh breads. He steps over to the Man and dumps the hot breads on the man's body. The Man in Black screams in agony. INT. MILO'S MAGNIFICENT BAKERY – NIGHT A few POLICE OFFICERS check out the scene. One of them carries a bag of flour over. OFFICER: Apparently, your shipment of flour got mixed up with an underground shipment of cocaine. MILO: Those would have been some good cookies. They all laugh. THE END

My Scene 02 EXT. STREET - DAY ADAM and LEE burst into the quiet street. Adam speeds up, unweighted by the BACKPACK, leaves Lee chugging behind. Adam races down the sidewalk when HOWARD turns the corner, square in his way. Adam veers to the right, in two LEAPS crosses the street, lands on the other side, legs PUMPING like pistons. LEE I can't believe this guy! Lee and Howard cross the street, but Adam slips into an.. EXT. ALLEY - DAY Between the grimy backs of buildings, Adam's footfalls echo. Lee and Howard arrive at the mouth of the alley, when Adam is already midway ahead. But at the other end, spring into view TWO MEN in jeans and gray sport jackets, they run towards Adam, he slows down. Lee and Howard keep the chase into the alley. LEE What are your men doing here? HOWARD Good thing they are. The two men in gray reach inside their jackets. Adam SPRINTS, is upon them, shoots a FIST in the face to the right, KICKS a kneecap to the left and the two men YELP and CRUMPLE to the ground. He PIVOTS, Lee and Howard come at him, KICKS Howard in the gut, sends him tumbling back. BLOCKS Lee's punch, COUNTER-PUNCHES aiming for the jaw, Lee DODGES to the right, is HIT on the shoulder, grimaces in pain. LEE Adam, stop! Adam throws a PUNCH, Lee JUMPS back, avoids it, but his foot catches on Howard, still on the ground and Lee falls down. The man hit on the face is still motionless, but the other stirs up, gets on one knee, brings up his hand, he has a DART GUN. Adam turns around. The man levels the gun, pulls the trigger. Adam WHIRLS, the dart sticks into his backpack, Adam faces the man and smiles. The man's eyes grow wide, he SCRAMBLES back. Adam LEAPS ahead and brings his FIST on the man's head like a sledgehammer, KNOCKS him cold. Lee and Howard disentangle, Lee stares in disbelief, Howard frowns, gets his hand to the hip. From seven yards away, Adam JUMPS and KICKS him in the chest, he COLLAPSES to the ground. Lee and Adam face each other, Lee cradles his numb arm with the other, leans against a wall. LEE Adam, what did you do? ADAM I stopped running. He surveys the scene. Howard and his men remain down and don't stir. ADAM This is what you get.

EXTERIOR, YANKEE STADIUM INFIELD, a crowded political rally, a podium at second base with a blue backdrop and a brace of American flags. Clouds loom. A stiff breeze blows the flags straight. CUT TO: Podium, where the PRESIDENT is speaking PRESIDENT ...While I can promise you nothing but my best... CUT TO: INTERIOR, CONTROL BOOTH high above home plate The control booth is filled with high tech equipment and three dozen men in black suits, with the latest in high-fashion handguns and earpieces. FIGGINS, a hulking man with a shaved head, stands impassively, watching the lighting guys work. Beside him is CLARK, a hummingbird to Figgins' mountain. CLARK We need to take this seriously. FIGGINS Do I look like I'm having fun? CLARK Kinda. FIGGINS I'm not. CUT TO: INTERIOR, HALLWAY We see an AGENT'S sunglasses-masked eyes, his high forehead, his impassive face. The head moves left and right, right and left. Regular as an oscillating fan. We see blood trickle down the agent's temple. The spike jutting up from the crown of his head. The machine mounted to the ceiling. Beyond him we see the door. CUT TO: INTERIOR, CONTROL ROOM A FIGURE IN BLACK spins into a backfist that connects with a cheekbone, sprays a gout of blood as the TALL AGENT crumples. A KNIFE in the attacker's fist. We see the curves beneath the outfit as she poses comic-book style for just a moment. Not one knife, but two, one in each hand. A smile as cruel as either. This is VIOLET. She checks the next target. Moves like water. CUT TO: CLARK (running toward the attacker) I told you! CUT TO: Eight or so AGENTS converge from all directions. Looking to dogpile her. Violet slips the first agent, strikes the Adam's apple of the second, behind her, with an elbow. Throws herself to the ground to escape the third agent going high, bounces up swinging at the fourth. Jesus, the blood. It'd be kind of fun to watch her if she wasn't so lethal. But every strike takes someone down. This is Germany against Brasil in the World Cup. The agents don't stand a chance. GUNSHOT, enormous in the enclosed space. Too fast for belief, VIOLET clocks an enormous agent with the butt of her knife. Grab him, spins him like a dancer switching leads, yanks him stumbling backward. Ridiculous strength. She puts her back to a corner, kicks his feet out from under him. He falls to his knees, eyes unfocused. She sets a knife to his throat. She fits behind him like a blood-covered Smurf behind an apple tree. CUT TO: CLARK (Gun out. Keeping his distance. Covered in spatter. Looks sick.) You know how this ends. VIOLET (peeking past ENORMOUS AGENT's head at someone over Clark's shoulder) You don't. CLARK I can't let you kill the President. VIOLET releases the guard and throws her knife. We follow the knife toward Clark Past Clark. Who turns to watch the knife pass Into Figgins' throat. VIOLET (O.S.) The president? CUT TO ENORMOUS AGENT, on his knees. Alive. CUT TO The door, closing. CUT TO The SPIKED AGENT's head, turning. --- Scene 5

SCENE FIVE EXT. BAD PART OF TOWN - NIGHT Bars, tattoo parlors, instant loans... a sea of neon-lit desperation. A BOYISH FIGURE in hoodie and baggy pants strides up the road with an easy gait, clutching a paper bag, but maintains hyper vigilance of his surroundings. Behind, off-duty COPS pour out of the pool hall and onto the street until they circle the Boy. The Boy freezes. The Cops wait in silence. The SHERRIF (50s) lumbers out of the pool hall and barks at the crowd from the top of the steps. SHERIFF I saw that boy drop some mari-ju-ana. You on drugs, boy? You don't mind if my men search that bag, do you? The Boy holds the bag out straight-armed. BOY This bag? This here's my donation. To the Police Widows and Orphans fund. He flings the bag at an unsuspecting Cop. The Cop fumbles it: loose dollar bills fly everywhere. SHERIFF Now where'd a boy like you get money like that? BOY I won that pool tournament fair and square, Sheriff, and you know it. SCRAWNY COP Sounds like the proceeds of illegal gambling to me. SHERIFF Yaaas. Yas, it surely do. The Boy scopes out the street: no escape. BOY Not my fault if your men can't play pool worth shit. SHERIFF Are you disrespecting me, boy? The Boy braces himself for the inevitable. SHERIFF Hey, Officer, did you just see a weapon? Do you feel threatened, officer? SCRAWNY COP I sure do feel threatened, Sheriff. SHERIFF Then you best secure the situation. The Cops close in on the Boy. The Boy places his arms at his sides and closes his eyes. One Cop shoves him. Then another. He flies between them like a shuttle cock... A Cop throws the first punch-- the crowd of Cops descend in a whirlwind of violence. The Boy stands there and takes it, offering no resistance, waiting for it to be over. SCRAWNY COP Shouldn't we tell them to ease up, boss? SHERIFF Nope. Kid needs to learn a lesson. The Sheriff watches from the top of the steps until the Boy goes down. The Sheriff turns his back on the scene and strolls back into the pool hall. Cops rain down jackboots on the prone, groaning body.

Scene 5: EXT. TAXI - NIGHT Kate grabs her husband, PATRICK'S, arm. DARYL scrambles into the taxi. KATE: Oh hell no. She throws the folder back into the taxi at Daryl. Patrick blocks it. The folder goes flying. Kate grabs his gun, it slides across the sidewalk. PEDESTRIANS scream. Kate lunges for the folder. Falls. Patrick grabs Daryl's leg - reaches for the gun. Daryl half in the taxi - half out, kicks Patrick. Kate crawls through a sea of legs - trying to put her folder back together. Daryl kicks Patrick in the stomach. Jumps in the taxi. DARYL (to driver): Go! Go! The taxi speeds off. Patrick grabs his gun and looks for the shot. Kate karate chops his arm. They hit the ground. WHIRL! WHIRL! - The police. Kate pushes away from Patrick. KATE: Worst anniversary ever! She runs. Patrick runs in the other direction.

Sc. 2 EXT. MORNING – SUBURBAN PARK YOUNG BOY1: Give that back! YOUNG BOY2: NO. I had it first. It’s mine! The voices of SAM (5) and GEORGE (6) ring across the empty park. Scuffling and wrestling, they tug furiously on a Spiderman action figure -- back -- and forth. GEORGE: LET. IT. GO. SAM: NO (gives a final big tug) George goes flying, landing awkwardly on the hard ground. Sam holds the action figure. Surprise on his face. Getting up George wipes his nose, tears swelling in his eyes. GEORGE: You said I was gonna have a turn. Liar! SAM (cradles the action figure): No. You’re a liar. And it’s my Spiderman. George is defeated. He wipes the tears from his flustered red face. Sam is playing with Spiderman, making sound effects and jumping the figure from the swing to the slide. George stares at him -- launches at Sam and grabs the action figure. GEORGE: HAHAH! You can’t catch me. Bolting away, he waves the action figure triumphantly over his head. Sam takes chase. SAM: Hey! Give that back. GEORGE: Never! Liar! George fast and agile, dodging Sam several times. Sam is getting more and more upset -- he stops giving chase. SAM: You’re not my friend anymore. GEORGE: Oh boohoo … here cry-baby - have your stupid doll! He launches the doll -- it curves perfectly -- splash, into the park pond -- Sam’s face is ashen. So is George’s. GEORGE: Oh. I didn’t -- SAM (wailing): You killed Spiderman. He pushes George to the ground with all his might. GEORGE: Ooowww. That hurt. Stop doing that. Jumping up, George throws himself at Sam. The boys scuffle -- wrestle. Sam grabs George’s hair and pulls -- George wallops Sam into the jungle gym with a crash. GEORGE: STOP. DOING. THAT. They boys eye each other off. Heavy breathing. Clothes ragged and torn. Sam’s face a grotesque mask of anger. He strikes. SMACK. Hits George straight in the nose -- blood starts oozing -- Sam’s lip starts quivering SAM: George. I’m…I -- George turns -- runs off spluttering and crying. SAM: George. GEORGE! But George is gone. Sam is alone. The fountain in the pond GURGLES and SPURTS. SAM (feebly): Come back. I didn’t mean it.

@IHEATHEN SCENE 5 - July 11 INT. CORPORATE HEAD OFFICE - PRESIDENT'S OFFICE - DAY The office is large, opulent, dim. Bits of sunlight slash in through slits between drawn blinds. Doors are closed. Two men sit across the desk from each other, immobile - a stare-down. The PRESIDENT, (late 50s, distinguished) emotionless behind his desk, waits. JARED, (mid-thirties, sweaty and wiry) - the salesman across the desk glares back. Jared's termination papers sit on the desk between them. No one says anything or moves for what feels like an eternity. Finally... mercifully... PRESIDENT: Listen, Jared... I'm sorry. If there was any other way... More silence. Jared may not have even registered that words were spoken. He's just glaring. PRESIDENT: Take all the time you need. Jared finally breaks the stare-down, slowly glances around the room at: Stapler. Laptop. Termination papers. Lamp on side-table. Countless achievement awards. Termination papers. Briefcase. TV with stock ticker scrolling. Termination papers. Jared, furious, starts to rise. JARED: There's always another way. PRESIDENT: I had no choice. JARED: All we HAVE is choice! PRESIDENT: It's company policy Jared. Jared leans over the desk into the president's face, fuming. Slams his fist on the desk. JARED: There's no such thing. All we have is people, and choices. That's it. This is on you. You chose not to help me. Not to fight for me. President is not intimidated. PRESIDENT: I'm sorry you see it that way. But you're going to have to step back now. It's time to go. President reaches for his intercom when -- out of nowhere Jared SCREAMS, grabs the stapler and SMASHES the President across the face with it. President lurches, stunned, dazed in his chair. Before he can react, Jared is around the desk and on him. Jared grabs suit collar, pounds stapler again into the President's head. The president is dazed, but he musters the strength to YELL and shove Jared back, hard. Jared falls backward over the desk, whacking his head on the chair he was seated in a few moments ago. President staggers to his feet. PRESIDENT: HELP. SOMEBODY. Jared starting to get to his feet now too. President grabs one of the heavy marble awards off his shelf, wields it at Jared. PRESIDENT: Stay back Jared. (making his way toward the door) HELP! Jared lunges, an awkward football tackle-style. President swings the award but misses over Jared's head. Jared hits President's stomach, winding him and the two of them crumple to the floor. The award rolls away, almost within reach. Jared on top. Jared spews vitriol and throws heavy punches as he yells. JARED: You sonofabitch. you know. it. wasn't. my. fault. President WAILS under the flurry of attacks, trying feebly to defend himself. Reaching for the award. Almost got it. Jared still punching. President weakening. It's going too far. His face is softening. Bones crunching giving way to fleshy pulp. True fear comes out. He might be about to die. With a last desperate stretch, his fingers finally grab the award and he swings it with everything he's got left at Jared's head. Corner of award hits temple. Hard. Jared's eyes flutter back, and he collapses immediately. Face hits floor. Blood trickles out his ear. Both men lay motionless on the floor, but only the president breathes. The DOOR flies open, and two SECURITY GUARDS rush in.

SCENE 5 INT. REJECT HIGH GYMNASIUM - NIGHT A loud BANG - WELKER'S SHOT Rhapsody. Sasha SCREAMS. JASON: No! He springs up, PUMMELS Welker, sends him flying through the GYM WALL. SASHA: Jason, watch out! An entire section of BLEACHERS CRASHES on top of Jason, pushing him elbow deep into the court. His outstretched arms only cause the wood to splinter around him, an impressive sight. Wood and metal fragments are entangled everywhere. Jason gets his footing on the concrete beneath as Peters storms over, oddly angered. He reaches ground level, but a BREEZE rushes by, and Jason's necklace is swiped yet again, depleting his strength. Peters hoists a powerless Jason up by the neck. Jason's eyes bulge. Peters smiles, misinterpreting Jason's fear. Welker TACKLES Peters from behind, causing him to drop Jason. He lands at an angle on his RIGHT LEG, causing a LOUD POP. Jason YELLS in agony, clutching his leg. Sasha runs to him, drags Jason near the source crystal. SASHA: Stay here. Let the crystal help. JASON: Wait, where are you going? She nods to a corner where Asia stands alone. SASHA: A business trip. She CLONES HERSELF TWICE. A crying, sensitive version and a new, ANGRY SASHA in black army fatigues joins her. They dash over to Asia. She extends her hands, ERECTS a FORCE FIELD. The Sashas wail on the field, one hit after another. Chaos ensues. Peters and Welker BEAT each other with anything available: OFFICE DOORS, LIGHT FIXTURES, all to no avail due to their freakish strength - but Peters is aging. His CRYSTAL DRAINS of color. Selby SPEEDS up to Jason, much to his chagrin. SELBY: What up, Freak? Thanks for bringing the source. Dumb ass. JASON: Really? At least I didn't kill my parents and leave the bodies at the house. SELBY: The hell are you talking about? My parents aren't dead. Jason squints in disbelief, then realization dawns: Selby didn't kill them. He scales back the viciousness. JASON: I'm serious, man. They're gone. A beat as Selby's ignorance turns to silent acceptance. For a moment, he's an abandoned boy: scared, alone. Just as tears begin forming, he blinks them away. Hatred clouds his features. He PUNTS Jason in the stomach, knocks the wind out of him. Repeats it with more anger, then KICKS him at a hyper-speed born of fury. Jason is helpless and in tremendous pain. Selby BOLTS away. POV - JASON VISION is blurry. Slow BLINKING. Selby joins Welker fighting Peters. Asia's force field is waning as the three Sashas war on. He reaches towards them, anyone. Tries speaking, but only GROANS escape his lips. He COUGHS, heartbeat at a crawl. His EYES CLOSE, the powerful LIGHT of the green source his last focal point.

Thanks, Alice. That's a keeper.

Scene 5 continues from yesterday's scene 4 EXT. LOS ANGELES STREET - DAY A car parked on a lonely street, two men inside. I/E. CAR - DAY GEORGE (35), blonde, overweight, the man in Majo's photos talks with PETER (35) latino, strong. Both men wear bullet-proof vests that read "POLICE ICE" George shows Peter some photos of Majo on his phone. GEORGE She must be here in seven hours, give or take. PETER I don't know, man. I've heard horror stories about mail order brides. GEORGE I'm not backing out no matter what. PETER Our job is to keep bring them out, not in. GEORGE I'm asking you as a friend, as my partner. Be nice to her. PETER Hey, there's our suspect. A tuned car parks in front of a house. SIMON (30) a tatooed bodybuilder gets out of the car. George and Peter get out of their car and go after them. PETER Simon Tavares? As soon as Simon looks at them he punches Peter to the ground, leaving him unconscious. Simon tries to punch George but he is able to dodge him. George punches Simon on the stomach but it barely affects him. Simon grabs George's neck and tries to strangle him. George gasps, kicks in the air, one of the kicks lands in Simon's ankle, releasing George, who quickly head-butts Simon. George throws a punch that lands in Simon's face, tries to throw another but Simon grabs George's arm. George smiles and proceeds to apply a powerful judo arm lock movement that throws Simon to the ground, George puts his left foot over Simon's head, and pulls Simon's elbow, easily subduing him. Peter slowly recovers his conscious, looks at Peter subduing George. PETER Need some help? GEORGE Handcuffs... quick. To be continued...

SCENE 5 INT. MIDDLE SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY. It’s passing time at school, and a stream of students fills the hallway. Some shove past each other, others meet up and meander together, and a few manage to fight the pull and hang onto their lockers to get out books. One smaller group of Eighth grade girls enter a bathroom. There are 5 girls. Four of them are dressed with matching pink bows in their hair, and smirk whenever they glance at the fifth girl, CHELSEA (13), who walks nervously in the center of the group. In the bathroom, four girls part and shove Chelsea into a stall, shutting the door behind them. The leader of the other girls, LORRAINE (13), steps up in front of Chelsea. Lorraine is a bit shorter than Chelsea, but looks much more fierce. The other three girls stand behind Lorraine, and cross their arms. LORRAINE: You broke a rule, Chelsea. Chelsea hugs her books closer to her. CHELSEA: I - I - really didn’t mean to. You don’t understand— LORRAINE: You don’t have to lie anymore. CHELSEA: It’s just, I’m not like you, you know, I — LORRAINE: Welcome to our club. Lorraine breaks out into a smile. The other girls clap and hop up and down. CHELSEA: I don’t want to be part of your stupid club! I wasn’t cheating on that test! Ms. Lamont just looked over, I — I’m smart, I’m not like you, well I mean you’re smart too but — Lorraine cuts Chelsea off with a swift kick to her shins. CHELSEA: OW! Chelsea falls forward, dropping her books. She rubs her shin. Lorraine scowls down at her. LORRAINE: Well, fuck you, Chelsea. We didn’t want you in our club anyways The girls are shocked. At this, Chelsea gathers her books, and slowly stands up, her back to Lorraine. Suddenly, Chelsea whips around and creams Lorraine in the nose with her fist. Lorraine falls back against the stall. The other girls gasp and crowd over her. There is silence as Lorraine brings a hand down from her face covered in blood. Lorraine grins. LORRAINE: Good student, huh? Lorraine stands and goes to exit the stall. LORRAINE: Let’s see what Ms. Lamont believes. CHELSEA: NO! Lorraine dashes out, her entourage scampering behind. Chelsea looks down at her fist, bursts into tears, and takes off after them. The stall door swings and swings before settling shut again.

SCENE 5 EXT. GHOST TOWN – HIGH NOON Standing in front of a wooden building with the word BANK in big letters across the top, MA HOPPER grabs her son’s collars, COLE and CLOD, and brings their heads together with a PLONK. MA: I told you two to get in there with the dynamite and bring mama her treasures! COLE: But remember what happened to Pa!? BONK as Ma bops Cole over the head with a stick of dynamite. She looks over at Clod and bops him too. CLOD: Why’d ya go and do that!? MA: Cuz I knew you’d open yer mouth eventually! Now get in there and get my riches! COLE&CLOD: Okay, Ma! Cole heads for the door to the bank, while Clod hangs back a second. CLOD: (under his breath) Doing anything after work? Ma’s face turns beet red as she shoots a quick glance at Cole. MA: (under her breath) Oh, I- um, not really… Clod gives her a knowing smile, nodding “ah yeah”. He turns back to the bank, almost bumping into a stone-faced Cole. Cole dramatically steps aside, “after you” with a bow. Ma winces as the boys enter the bank. INT. BANK Cole follows Clod in, slamming the door, the flimsy walls of the bank shaking violently. Clod grabs a mini-bottle of water from a cooler in the small empty room. He takes a swig while staring at Cole. CLOD: What, dude? COLE: You’re asking ME, what? Clod shakes his head, dramatically crushing the tiny water bottle, which immediately pops back into shape. CLOD: Let’s just finish the show, you big drama queen. COLE: Drama queen? You just asked out my ex-girlfri- CLOD: Ex! Ex-girlfriend! You’re the one who broke up with her in the first place- COLE: Well, maybe we’re working things out. The backdoor of the bank swings open, a man dressed as an old west SHERIFF pokes his head in, laughing hysterically. SHERIFF: Hey, assholes, your mics are still on. Cole and Clod both turn red, simultaneously covering their headset microphones. COLE: This is your fault, dick. CLOD: Cry me a river. Cole starts to growl and SWINGS at Clod, barely nicking his chin. Clod, more shocked than hurt, lets out a high-pitched SCREAM grabbing for Cole’s neck. They tumble out through the door of the bank. EXT. GHOST TOWN Rolling around the dirt in front of the bank, Cole and Clod grab at each other’s arms, a few feeble punches landing with little effect. Ma’s mouth hangs open, as she watches them wrestle. After about thirty seconds, they roll apart, laying on their backs, gasping for breath. Ma shakes her head, looking out at the crowd, then back at the two men moaning and grabbing their sides. MA: Actually, I think I’m busy tonight. She walks off as a slow tentative clap starts from the audience. A KID in the stands turns to his mom, pulling a white ear-bud from out of one ear. KID: Worst stunt show, ever.

Scene 5 (4th entry so far): WE HEAR A SLEDGEHAMMER DEMOLISH A DOOR INT. AUTO REPAIR SHOP - DAY The METAL door lies busted on the floor. The impact left a DENT, but not from a hammer. From a FIST. Startled, we realize a FIGURE dominates the doorway. PUNCH MCGRAW (40s) stomps from out of the shadow. Built like a tank, dressed like a lumberjack drill sergeant, he INHALES his cigar. PUNCH: Now it’s time to Fuck. It. Up. Punch slides on a pair of BRASS Knuckles: Right hand: F U C K - Left hand: I T U P Punch butts the brass knuckles together and SPARKS fly! A METAL SONG blares up. Punch makes his way through the empty garage peering between cars on lifts and on the ground. PUNCH: I know you know I’m here. MALE VOICE (O.S.): You do know how to make an entrance. Punch casually paces around trying to find the voice. PUNCH: I like to get to the point. MALE VOICE (O.S.): And see my philosophy is all about patience. PUNCH: Well come out here and let’s see if I can beat that out of you. MALE VOICE (O.S.): I was expecting you to be a brash but not brutish. Be reasonable and walk away. PUNCH: (clanks brass knuckles) You can reason with theses boys. MALE VOICE (O.S.): Where are you from friend? PUNCH: A little state called Texas. Have you ever been through? MALE VOICE (O.S.): Perhaps in a past life I'm sure. PUNCH: Well if you ever, you’d a heard of me. McGraw. Punch McGraw. A pair of BARE FEET FLEX on the ground behind Punch. MALE VOICE (O.S.): A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Punch turns to see KICK DANIELS (40s), long ponytail, loose flowing clothes, Bruce Lee with more muscle, bow his head. KICK: I am Kikomi Daniels. But I’m found of the nickname a man whose skull I shattered with the ball of my foot gave me: Kick. PUNCH: Kick? KICK: It’s all he could say before his brain exploded. Kick is the type of calm that’s threatening. Punch doesn't know what to make of him. He sees Kick’s bare feet. PUNCH: You don’t wear shoes? KICK: Not when I’m fighting. Or surfing. Punch LAUNCHES a THUNDEROUS right cross as Kick FLYS into a ROUNDHOUSE KICK and their ATTACKS CONNECT in a SONIC BOOM that knocks them both back and blasts out all the windows. The both recover, surprised, and look at each other: mutual respect. Kick see’s the bottom of his foot is imprinted: FUCK. --------------------- This was a great prompt because it gave me a chance to bring two characters who I've been wanting to flesh out to life. I plan to develop this into an action/comedy so any feedback is greatly appreciated! The working title is of course: "KICK! PUNCH!"

INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE/NEW JERSEY DOCKS - NIGHT DRAGO, 50s, pseudo high-class cartel kingpin and his 2 muscle minions have JENKINS, 43, NYPD undercover, figured out. Muscle 1 and Muscle 2 are holding Jenkins in a chair while he tries his best to remain calm. Unsuccessful. Drago pulls out a silencer and points it right between Jenkins' eyes. DRAGO: You think you can fool me, you sweaty little pig? Huh? You think you can fool Drago? I came outta my mother's womb neck deep in pig shit, I think I know when one's close by. JENKINS: It's not like that. I swear! I just wanted some weed, man. There's no undercover bullshit. There's no one else here. No one knows I'm here. I'm on leave. I got in trouble. That whole Three Strikes thing goes for cops, too. DRAGO: I don't believe you. JENKINS: I have no badge on me. No gun. Drago nods for Muscle 1 to look in his pockets. Jenkins sees this and just as Muscle 1 reaches around the front of him he pulls his arm down and shoves him off balance. Muscle 2's reaction is to pull Jenkins back which gives him just enough room to swing around and up into his jaw. Both go down. Drago shoots, but the gun jams. A split second where he and Jenkins stare at each other not sure what the other will do. Jenkins rushes him and grabs the gun. There's a shoolyard tussle for it when it flings to the side and out of sight. It's a grapple and hug match now - strength is gonna be the winner here. Drago gets a lucky jab to the gut and Jenkins loses. He's down, hunched over and heaving. DRAGO: You fucking pig! You fucking cabron! (looks to Muscle Men) Get up, you fat fucks! Jenkins tries to get up, but Drago shoves a foot in his face and he's down again flat on his back, arms splayed to the side like Christ. Jenkins' blazer is now open and his shirt exposed. Drago notices something high on his chest and to the left. Wires? DRAGO: Wires? You're wearing wires? Jenkins sees what he's looking at and immediately puts his hands up. JENKINS (desperate): NO! No! Not wires. Not wires. Drago goes for him, but Jenkins out maneuvers and rolls to the side. But here come Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Duh who grab him and hold him up. Drago rushes over and punches Jenkins hard in the cheek. DRAGO: You say you don't have anyone here, but you have people listening in. How long til they come save you, huh? Head punch. Gut punch. Jenkins in agony and can barely speak. JENKINS: No... no one. There's- DRAGO: Enough with the lying! Another gut punch. Then Drago leans into Jenkins' chest and speaks clearly: DRAGO: I am going to cut him into little pieces and feed him to the fish. JENKINS (begging): No... please. No. It's not wires. It's a- Drago grabs the spot where the wires are and pulls. Jenkins lets out an excruciating scream. He's losing it. JENKINS: NOOOOOOO... Drago rips the wires away from his chest and his shirt immediately fills with blood. Jenkins is hyperventilating. Drago's eyes go wide and he lets go and rips open Jenkins shirt. Blood everywhere. JENKINS: It's a port, man. A fucking PORT. The Muscle Men drop him and he crumbles. JENKINS (agony): For chemo. I have cancer... I just wanted some weed. Drago has no idea how to respond to this. FADE OUT

This is my fifth entry thus far. Playing catch-up. INT. UNIVERSITY BASKETBALL ARENA - NIGHT CHRIS, 20, dressed in a three-piece suit and a long overcoat has just exited the locker room and is striding out into the middle of the abandoned basketball court. In one hand he is holding a cell phone, in the other his metal face mask, shaped like a cross that is form-fitted to his face. SEANN, 20, Chris’ twin brother, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, has just run in and now faces him. He is out of breath. Chris stops when he sees him. SEANN: What did you do in there? I heard a sound like a wrecking ball. Chris holds up the cell phone. SEANN: What the HELL is wrong with you? Did you hurt anyone to get that? CHRIS: You used her birthday as a password. Don’t you think that’s a bit pathetic? SEANN: Was anyone in there or not? CHRIS: What do you care, brother? He tosses the cell phone across the basketball court to Seann’s feet, where it shatters. CHRIS: Ya know, you’ve done a lot of shitty things throughout your life. What you did at the river. What you did to Dad. But I never, not in a million years, thought you would stoop this low. SEANN: This coming from a man who in the last three months has KILLED three people, and now is basically committing acts of terrorism to find out if the girl he liked CHEATED on him? You have COMPLETELY lost it. Throughout the conversation they have been moving toward one another. CHRIS: It’s funny. I guess I didn’t need the phone. I sort of knew already. So yesterday, I called her. And I “lightly suggested” that we go one last round. SEANN: You used it on her? You SICK mother— CHRIS: Let me tell ya, I expected it to be a lot harder. She didn’t take much convinc— Seann, knowing that his brother would expect a right, instead feints right and left hooks Chris in the jaw. Chris stumbles backward, holding his mouth, which is bleeding. He swipes at Seann with the metal mask in his hand catching him barely on the chin, but it is enough to make Seann lose his footing and fall backwards. Seann’s skin begins to glow. Chris steps back from him. CHRIS: You wouldn’t. SEANN: I would. Seann’s skin begins to glow an even fiercer shade of yellow-green. Chris is backing away from Seann, simultaneously putting on his mask. Seann has stood up. His entire body seems to be glowing with a bright, yellow-green aura. CHRIS: No! Mask now on, Chris lifts up his hand and sends Seann careening away with his telepathy, rocketing him through the bleachers and out of the back wall. All that’s left is a smoking, man-sized hole in the stands where Seann has burned through. Chris rips off the mask, barely getting it off before he vomits violently onto the court. The vomit is filled with blood. He sees the blood, and his eyes widen. He turns, coughing and still semi-wretching, and hobbles hurriedly away from the Seann-crater, back towards the locker room.

EXT. SNOWY MOUNTAIN – DAY A giant SNOW MONSTER bursts into the scene. It chases two hikers down the mountain, which is covered in snow and sparsely populated with EVERGREEN TREES. Through the trees we see JACKIE (25, athletic) running almost at a SUPER-HUMAN speed. Accompanying her is MINDY (27, light with an edge), who is fast, but not as fast. JACKIE Do your thing, Mindy! MINDY I don’t think my superpower will help in this situation! It might actually make it worse! JACKIE Don’t use it towards the SNOWMAN, blast a tree or something behind us. Hopefully it will slow him down! MINDY I can’t promise accuracy! JACKIE Anything will help! Mindy aims behind her and she lets out any ICY BLAST at a tree, which falls in front of Snow monster. The tree barely slows it down. Mindy aims again and this time hits the Snow monster. He runs faster. MINDY You know, not to sound obvious, but I think we’re at a disadvantage here! Jackie is way ahead of Mindy now. MINDY Hey! Where are you? Don’t leave me! Remember I picked up the tab for dinner last night! Jackie, is no where to be seen. The Snow monster is just about to grab Mindy! She screams! From the left Jackie throws her entire weight at the Snow monster. The element of surprise is to their advantage. Mindy aims accurately at multiple trees this time and downs multiple trees with her icy blasts. Jackie drags a flint rock against the downed trees as she speedily races by. The entire length of the tree catches on fire. Mindy downs more tree in a circular fashion, surrounding the snow man. JACKIE Your aim is improving! MINDY Well your fire skills are not! Jackie smirks and finishes lighting the rest of the trees surrounding the monster. And the monster is trapped! JACKIE I don’t think smokey the bear will be too happy Mindy rolls her eyes. She surrounds the fire with an icy dome and the fire AND monster DISAPPEAR! Both are panting heavily. MINDY Next time, I’M choosing which cave we sleep in for the night.

SCENE 5 EXT. BARBICAN, LONDON - NIGHT A faint glow looms over the grey concrete pervading an empty street lined with tall dark glass and steel buildings. A red reflection comes across. A female wearing red stands motionless under a solitary tree. Slim-built Hera holds a purposeful stare. She wears a bright spicy red Moroccan dress contrasting sharply with the grey surroundings. Hera stands breathing quietly as if listening to her breath. Suddenly Hera crouches down and lowers her head A silhouette can be seen crossing back and forth between her legs. The figure is coming towards her at speed. Hera lays her hands down and presses her fingers into the concrete as the figure comes in close. Hera pushes upwards and flips backwards. A black masked figure with a helmet like black head. The black clad figure steps backwards. The figure moves forward and aims a blow to her head but Hera ducks sideways. Hera moves rhythmically from side to side each time a new blow is about to strike. On the 7th strike, at the last moment, the figure unexpectedly lunges towards Hera. The figure’s head crashes into Hera forehead using the head as a deadly weapon. Hera’s falls backwards. Her forehead is covered in blood. The figure’s black helmet mask reveals two bloody spikes poking out. Momentarily Hera is dizzy but she breathes deeply. The figure high kicks to land a kick in the knee but Hera moves her legs outwards. The figure’s leg crosses back up and is left in midair as Hera jumps and kicks the figure’s spine. The figure falls and Hera pulls out a knife. She cuts open the black facial mask and reveals a face. Hera: Ahisma. Ahisma is clearly in pain but says nothing but stares into Heras eyes and then immediately breaks an overhanging branch. Ahisma slices the wood using Heras wholly erect knife. Hera moves back fearful of Ahisma but he plunges the wooden sheath into his neck. Hera: Ahisma. Blood squirts over Hera. Hera returns her own knife to its holding. Hera touches Ahisma’s face as she forces the wooden sheath out of his neck. Hera's face changes. She turns to look around. More black clad figures run in and out of the buildings. Hera runs. The blood forms a crimson war mask.

I made an error, this is scene 6.

Scene 5 EXT. CITY STREET - DAY The good guy power walks, looking over his shoulder. He spots a bad guy following him. He finds himself in front of a museum. A gigantic banner proclaims "Fragile Beauty: Crystal and Porcelain Masterpieces." He hurries to the entrance and quickly passes through the metal detector in front of it. INT. MUSEUM The good guy spots the entrance to the Fragile Beauty exhibit and heads for it. EXT. CITY STREET The bad guy rushes to the museum entrance. He spots the metal detector. He takes out a gun and throws it in the bushes. INT. MUSEUM The bad guy bursts in, looks around, spots the good guy entering the Fragile Beauty exhibit. He follows. FRAGILE BEAUTY EXHIBIT We TRACK ACROSS fragile masterpieces until we come to the good guy, hiding behind a pillar, then CONTINUE TRACKING to reveal the bad guy standing at the entrance to the exhibit. He looks around, sees a SECURITY GUARD armed with a revolver. He carefully proceeds into the exhibit and searches, trying not to look suspicious. The good guy gets the drop on him, grabs him in a choke hold. They struggle, lose their balance. SMASH! They fall into an exhibit of porcelain figurines. They wrestle on the floor amidst the porcelain shards. The guard stands above them, revolver drawn. SECURITY GUARD: That's enough. The bad guy sweeps the guard's legs, knocking him to the ground. As he falls, his GUN GOES OFF, hitting a bullet-proof case around a crystal objet d'art. ALARMS GO OFF. A security gate falls across the exhibit entrance. The security guard is distracted. The good guy runs. Other patrons scatter and hide. The bad guy grabs the revolver. He looks for the good guy. The security guard staggers to his feet. The bad guy pops him. Instant kill. He hears a noise. Sees the good guy. Aims. The good guy runs. BANG. SMASH. BANG. SMASH. BANG. SMASH. He can't hit a moving target but three works of art have been added to Saint Peter's collection. He looks around. Can't see where the good guy went. OOOF! The good guy smashes into him from behind. The gun flies through the air and lands on another piece of crystal, shattering it. The bad guy, off balance, skillfully rolls so when the good guy pounces on him he locks his head between his knees and HEAD BUTTS HIS NUTS. The good guy goes limp. The bad guy gets up, heads for the gun, grabs it, spins around. Where'd the good guy go? From the side. A kick. The gun goes flying. The other foot follows through -- into the bad guy's face. He goes down. The good guy runs after the gun, gets to it. The bad guy's close behind. The good guy spins, shoots. SLOW MOTION The perfect shot, right between the ribs, straight through the heart. Blood spurts out of the entry and exit wounds. The bullet passes straight through, keeps going, until... SMASH! The bullet hits the exact spot on the bullet-proof case already weakened by the previous bullet. It breaks through, goes right into the heart of the crystal, and... The priceless treasure Peckinpahs all over the display.

SCENE 5 EXT. UPSTATE U - DAY A MOB OF ANGRY STUDENTS YELL and brandish protest signs on the Quad of the run-down school campus. ASHLEY, 20, leads the mob as they chant - ASHLEY/MOB Save our school! Save our school! EVAN, 21, thrusts his sign forward like a sword. ASHLEY What are we? EVAN/MOB Pissed off!! ASHLEY What do we want? EVAN/MOB Free education now! ASHLEY Fuck, here they come! ANGLE ON a menacing line of RIOT COPS in full gear, advancing upon the protesters. The students quickly get into formation against them, snapping on masks and thrusting their protest signs with the pointy end outward, like soldiers at their last stand. ASHLEY Battle positions! This is our last chance to save our school. MOB FOR FREEDOM!!! The riot cops are upon them, and it is a merciless slaughter. QUICK SHOTS of: - Batons cracking, shields smashing - Protest signs splintering - Tasers on bodies going rigid - Water cannons throwing students bodily across the steps The students try to fight, to no avail. Riot cops storm past their beaten bodies into the Tower. The reminder start making arrests. Ashley and Evan, soaked and bloodied on opposite sides of the steps, exchange weary yet determined looks. Evan, spitting blood, sees his troops fleeing and tries to rally them back. EVAN Hey! Get back! A BURLY COP points to Evan. BURLY COP That's their leader! Get him!

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT STEVEN (V.O.) Looking back on my childhood, I noticed a lot of things for the first time. A well-lit kitchen, frighteningly clean. One of those black murderers’ bags. Lots of little pockets. Lots of knives. What looks like a blow-dart gun. Lots of implements too frightening to contemplate. A black-gloved hand lovingly screws a silencer onto a gun. STEVEN (V.O.) I was happy. I had friends. The bag is zipped closed. STEVEN I also had enemies. INT. BUILDING CORRIDOR - NIGHT A man, wiry, taut, measured, face veiled in shadow, closes his apartment door behind him. Black bag in hand. STEVEN (V.O.) And they were all adults. EXT. VILLA - NIGHT The man in black - STEVEN, in case you were wondering, baby-faced, nondescript - peers through the living room window. The gauzy curtains barely veil the scene inside. A man, 60s, chases a little girl around a living room with a slipper. This is not a game. The little girl is terrified. An elderly woman cowers in a corner, face already bruised. A young woman marches up to the man, trembling. DAUGHTER Papa, please! GRANDFATHER Your little bastard brat must be taught a lesson. Like you and your mother before you! He pushes her away roughly. She falls against the cupboard, hitting her face on the sharp edge. It draws blood. The elderly woman cries out. The man glares at her. She stifles her scream. Steven looks at the elderly woman. Her weakness. Her tears. BACK DOOR. A little fancy finger-work and it’s open. In a trice, he’s in. He pads through dark and semi-dark rooms. Following the screams. INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT The old man has caught the child. He’s raising his slipper. His face is red. Suddenly his face freezes. The slipper falls. The child is let go. She scrambles away. Just before her grandfather’s body hits the floor. A dart in his neck. Steven is standing in the doorway like a shadow. Finally the women notice him. The child scampers to her mother. The women shiver. He walks towards the elderly woman. Stepping over her dead husband. STEVEN Mrs. Chambers...do you remember me? She shakes her head. STEVEN (CONT’D) Steven. Steven Harding. I was in your year 11. In 2002. Mrs. Chambers looks back. The wheels turning. And clicking. Finally clicking. Into horrified recognition. STEVEN (CONT’D) You always liked Tommy more than me. Even though we were peas in a pod. Best friends. So when he raped Lisa after prom, you said it was me. MRS. CHAMBER I never... STEVEN Yes, it was you. You know it was you. I know it was you. Steven takes out his gun. Points it levelly at her head. STEVEN (CONT’D) Would you like to die now, Mrs. Chambers? Tears flow. She nods. Steven pushes back the safety. The child cries behind him. Then he locks it again. STEVEN (CONT’D) Not today. He lowers his gun. STEVEN (CONT’D) Your husband will be awake in half an hour. He turns on his heels and walks away. EXT. VILLA - NIGHT He closes the back door gently behind him, his tool-bag still on his shoulder. STEVEN It turns out my enemies have enemies. Sometimes...it’s crueler to leave them alone. He pads away gently into the night.

Btw - Scene 6 for me.

DAY FIVE: Write a fight scene involving actual physical violence INT. LIVING ROOM – AFTERNOON A pair of women, SAM and BILLY, are throwing plates at each other. Billy hurls one plate right by Sam’s ear, missing by a fraction of an inch, but the debris from the resulting broken plate manages to scratch Sam’s arm. Billy retaliates with a fierce Hail Mary with a fork that whizzes past Sam at a worrying speed. Behind them, a young boy, CHARLIE, sits on the couch, changing the channels on the television, oddly calm for the severity of the fight behind him. Sam suddenly rushes at Billy, knocking her back on the kitchen table. The table buckles slightly and the sound of the legs creaking and cracking barely registers as Billy writhes around, sending unbroken plates and silverware crashing to the floor and shrieking. She continues to try to get out from under Sam’s hands, ultimately rolling off of the table and onto the floor. Billy cuts her hand on a piece of plate, glances quickly between her bleeding hand then the scattered plate shards. She snatches a larger one up and scampers around the table. Sam runs after Billy, who has made it to the sink of the kitchen. They stop momentarily, Billy with the plate shard at Sam’s throat, Sam’s hands pushing Billy away as hard as she can. Charlie walks around them for one of the cups that hasn’t be destroyed, ducks between their legs to get some water from the sink, and walks back to the couch. In this new silence, cartoonish characters’ voices ring out from the television. Sam and Billy wait until it seems like Charlie’s occupied before continuing their fight. They reapply their force in their apparent desire to see the other one dead. However, they are once again interrupted by Charlie. CHARLIE: Mommy? SAM and BILLY (straining): What?! A crashing is heard once again as Sam disarms Billy of her makeshift shiv. CHARLIE: Can you make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Sam and Billy stop fighting immediately. Suddenly, they are the picture of parental efficiency. Sam goes for the bread and peanut butter from the cupboard and takes out a knife. Billy also gets a knife and retrieves the jelly from the fridge. They quietly make the sandwich for Charlie. Sam takes the sandwich to Charlie while Billy cleans up the sandwich makings. From the kitchen, it is possible to see Charlie and Sam having a short conversation. Sam then kisses Charlie on the top of his head before returning to Billy, who has just returned the bread to the cupboard. Billy and Sam lean against various objects in the kitchen, glaring at each other, apparently tired from the fight and wary of physically attacking each other. Billy conspicuously still has a knife in her hand. Sam glances at it. Billy turns and starts to clean the knife. Sam visibly calms, unclenches her fists, and sits down at the table. BILLY: What were you talking about? SAM: Fighting and how it’s an important part of any relationship. BILLY: I don’t know if we’re doing it right. Like, maybe people mean verbal disagreements. SAM: No, I think we’re doing it fine. I’m not mad anymore. BILLY: Yeah, me neither. SAM: You’re bleeding. While she answers, Billy gets two paper towels and wets them. She sits down next to Sam and absentmindedly flings one directly into her face while she’s tending to her own wounds. Sam carefully removes the paper towel folds it, then places it against her arm firmly. BILLY: So are you. I really wish we could just talk stuff out like a normal family. SAM: We’ll never be normal. May as well go hard or go home. Plus, we’ll be prepared for home invasions because we know how to fight. BILLY: I’m tired of explaining to my friends that we’re not in an abusive relationship. Showing them the bruises I leave on you doesn’t seem to make it any better to them for some reason. SAM: Fuck ‘em. Charlie starts humming along with whatever is on the television, which catches Sam and Billy’s attention. BILLY: Yeah. Fuck ‘em. I’m going to bond with Charlie for a while. SAM: I guess I’ll clean up since I started it this time. BILLY: You damn skippy! They both get up, Sam walking through the kitchen to the garage and Billy to the living room, sitting down on the couch next to Charlie.

INT. BOXING HALL - NIGHT The right hook lands square on STEINER's jaw and he slumps to the canvas. CHRISTIE pulls back, still poised, ready to land the final blow if it is needed. His eyes wide with frenzy. The thrill and the rage of the fight at a peak inside him. He wills Steiner to get up so they can continue... The REFEREE comes between the two fighters... REFEREE: One... Two... Thr... Steiner gets to his knees. One gloved hand on the floor, he shakes his head and takes a big, deep breath... REFEREE: Five... Six... Sev.. Steiner pushes himself up off the canvas. He looks the Referee's shoulder to see Christie staring back, hopping around. He then looks directly into the Referee's eyes, showing him he is all there, and ready... REFEREE: OK? Steiner nods, and the Referee pulls back and away, clearing the way between the two fighters. Christie charges in, desperate to put an end to Steiner, knowing his opponent will go down for good with one final solid hand. Steiner knows this too, and fights to stay in the game until the bell. He pulls his guard up, hands in front of head, elbows tucked in, not given Christie an inch in which to land a blow... Christie's blow come hard. He hits Steiner twice with the right hook that floored him moments before, though now he can't work his way through to the jaw. He changes stance to deliver an uppercut, trying to get in between Steiner's tight arms, but there is now no way through... He pauses for a split second to work out another opportunity... Steiner sees the opportunity. Christie gives him a split second and he pounces. He hits Christie with a straight jab with his left hand. It lands square on his nose. Christie, dazed reels back. He sees Steiner's guard coming down as he comes in for the kill, and goes for a final hook... But Steiner lands his first. His hook swings round and drives into Christie's jaw. His head swivels and he crumbles to floor... REFEREE: One. Two. Three. Fo... Steiner turns away knowing he ain't getting up...

INT. PLAYPEN - DAY A scene of primary coloured mayhem, it's difficult to make out much through the wooden bars of the playpen. Inside the pen's perimeter, CUDDLY TOYS, stacked one atop the other, in spectator tiers, eyeball the two inhabitants. GUMS MAHONEY (14 months) and CRADLECAP STEWART (18 months) size each other up. They've been in there for hours, but they've just noticed each other. Gums and Cradlecap square up to each other. A frisson of tension crackles in the air. A balloon bounces overhead, raising the few hairs on Gums' head upwards. Gums' hair sticks that way, giving the impression of a wispy, yet intimidating, mohawk. Gums and Cradlecap circle each other, focused, but wobbly. Cradlecap, with a steadiness advantage, toddles around Gums, and reefs his nappy up towards his ears, delivering a nappy wedgie. Gums swings. Balled miniature fists fly through the air. At the last second, he uncurls his fist to reveal his nails haven't been cut. Gums slashes Cradlecap's chubby arm. Cradlecap roars. Arms from heaven scoop Cradlecap up and out of the playpen. NANNY: That's the last time you sit up watching pro wrestling. Naptime.

Scene Five.