COLD OPEN
BLACK -- NOTHING -- SILENCE
A low-pitch HUM builds. BRUMMM -- louder -- a deafening
BRAAAM -- light reflected off a black surface.
Everything is blurry -- spatial distortion puckers outward...
THEN -- violent slingshot back -- CRACK -- ripples like clear
gelatin on this black shiny surface.
Light leaks in -- a mass of swirling energetic plasma forming
a disk. Another whiplash -- CRACK -- THRUMMM -- forward then
back -- CRACK -- and a big leap back revealing a structure at
distance.It is a black hole and it is in front of Earth.
SPACE
Earth at a distance. A small black hole and one ancient
cylindrical generation ship. This sturdy monstrosity has been
cruising between stars for a long while. Thousands of dirty-
gray pock-marked steel panels make up the hull.
WHOOSH -- up above the ship. Below is a huge viewport. Action
inside.
NOW -- INSIDE THE SHIP - a clean cavernous bay with bright
white walls and deep blue archways. A huge hologram of some
Zeus-looking guy flickers while hundreds of people run and
scream. Pandemonium.
Spatial DRUNNNN -- distortions stretch the bay to infinite
depth. Funhouse mirror images of terrified people.
The people are human-like but have an exotic golden radiance.
Perfection personified. Sure they are going to die, but they
look good doing it -- white leather jumpers with green racing
stripes, brown leather bombers.
SPACE
CREEEK -- SQUEAL -- The ship buckles under the gravitational
pull. Spatial distortions. The ship stretches like dough
toward the event horizon. The black hole CHURNS and HUMS --
THEN -- a banshee screech as it spaghettifies the ship. SLURP
-- the ship flings itself like a rubber band onto the black
surface and sticks. A frozen snapshot of the ship on black.
The ancient ship has seen its last day. It glows a bright red
and it is gone.
NOW -- a slow approach to Earth. Hundreds of escape shuttles
above the atmosphere contrasted by white ice covering more
than half of the northern hemisphere.
INSIDE THE SHIP - THE BRIDGE - Blurry. Dreamlike. A WOMAN
(30s) dark hair, deep green eyes. She dons a dark-green
leather jumper with gold alien insignia on the chest. She
stands stoic at the helm, staring down the black hole. A
Captain going down with her ship. She turns and makes eye
contact.
WOMAN
Enki. It is time. Now go!!
Close on something that resembles a snow globe atop some
silver piece of tech that serves as a pedestal. Light dims --
ominous sounds -- Closer -- Inside is a tiny black POLKA-DOT-
OF-DEATH. Bouncing. Up... down... left... right...
--NOW-- A MAN’S FACE, JOHN JONES (M, White, 40s) brown hair,
a short well-kept beard.
John is asleep -- THEN -- his dark brown eyes snap open full
of panic.
END COLD OPEN
ACT ONE
Genres:
["Science Fiction","Action","Adventure"]
Ratings
Scene
2 -
A Fragile Balance
INT. BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS
A nice bathroom, jacuzzi tub, fancy faucet. John splashes
water on his face -- looks in mirror. Handsome but tired. His
eyes though -- they hold volumes.
Takes a deep breath and reaches under the sink, digging
around. Wood moving -- CLACK -- CLACK. A hidey hole. He pulls
out a black pouch -- sits on the throne -- ZIP -- out come
the goods.
A prescription bottle labeled "Ambien." He slaps a few in his
mouth -- chews.
Next -- 2 full syringes and a rubber tourniquet. A glance
inside the pouch reveals a big Ziploc full of white crystals,
another with powder.
QUICK CUTS:
-- Ties tourniquet with his teeth - bites off syringe cap
-- Nice juicy vein in the antecubital space
-- Needle pierces skin then vein - plunges solution in
-- Rinse and repeat with the second syringe
-- Puts everything back into pouch -- ZIP --
END QUICK CUTS
John shows no junkie-like satisfaction. This was simply
business.
FADE TO:
John -- black button-up, black slacks, very GQ -- enters his
KITCHEN, but stops - something grabs his attention. Fancy
kitchen - granite countertops, high-end appliances, and in a
corner - a breakfast nook occupied by BETH JONES (16), John's
daughter. She rocks out to something in her earbuds. Head
moving up and down like it's a Metallica concert.
BETH
(singing to herself)
Off to never, never land.
How bout that. Her head bangs to and fro. John watches and
holds back laughter. She attempts to shovel a forkful of
scrambled eggs into her mouth.
Some egg succumbs to her constant movement and flies up --
lands in her hair. She takes no notice.
He can’t hold back any longer and laughs. He gives that
loving smile dad’s have before he makes his presence known.
He sits down with her.
JOHN
Seems like you are enjoying
whatever that is.
He gestures to her ear and gives a thumbs up. She nods and
replies with a thumbs up then continues flinging her hair to
and fro.
John spots egg in her hair, holds back a laugh -- then tosses
a piece of his own in there.
Beth takes her bud out.
BETH
OK. Dad. I will give you attention.
Childish.
He laughs.
JOHN
There was already some egg up
there. Thought I should contribute.
BETH
HA HA.
She rummages through her hair and shakes her head. John
smiles.
JOHN
Don't forget, I am going on a trip
today. Won't be home until
Thursday. Food in the fridge. Left
money on the counter.
BETH
I know. Told me 3 times. It will be
fine. I'm almost 17 dad.
JOHN
You're right. Always right.
They pause. A look passes between them -- love and shared
pain. John almost tears up. Changes subject.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Oh, don't forget your bass.
Beth rolls her eyes and points to the door where her bass
leans against the wall.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Just trying to be helpful.
BETH
I know, it is sweet.
(sarcastic, low tone)
But I am a big girl now.
JOHN
Yes, but to me you will always be
my Bethbird.
He does a chicken wing flap.
JOHN (CONT’D)
B-B-B Bird Bird Bird. Bird is the --
Beth laughs. HONK from outside.
BETH
As much as I would like to sing
along... that is my ride.
She jumps up, gives her dad a hug.
BETH (CONT’D)
Love ya, gotta go. See ya Thursday.
She shoots away like a rocket.
JOHN
Can't keep Kyler waiting, can we?
He turns to look. The bass is gone. The front door slams.
John sits there. Alone. The smile fades.
He walks through THE LIVING ROOM.
Swank house. Leather couches, big entertainment center/home
theater setup.
Passes by some pictures. One shows him and his wife with leis
in Hawaii -- his ring visible. Glance at his left hand now --
no ring. Another shows John and a buddy in Europe.
He continues to the entertainment center in the back corner.
Reaches above and it swings out from the wall -- a door with
a fingerprint scanner -- presses -- a series of CLICKS -- and
he enters THE SECRET ROOM.
Drugged-out Bruce Wayne here has a Bat Cave it seems.
Pitch black. He flicks a switch and holy fucking shit.
A hacker's wet dream. 10+ screens stacked. Servers on a
shelf. But what the fuck is over there.
A holographic device emits images of people, swirling and
dissolving into another. Whatever that thing is -- you can't
get it at Best Buy.
John whooshes his hand through it, boots his stack. Screens
come alive. Crypto wallets -- half a billion in one, millions
in others. One screen: a dark-net drug bazaar, "Gods
Kingdom." He clicks admin. Another wallet. Balance: 40 mil.
A video call RINGS. John puts on a headset, decrypts the
incoming call, and a woman's face appears.
FRENCH (Francesca) WILLIAMS (mid 30s, mixed race). Wild hair.
Thick black glasses. In the background is a lab of some sort.
High-tech stuff. Then an orangutan walks by.
French speaks and...
FRENCH
Hey, J-Johnny boy what ya doin?
Almost veggied HARRY today. His
theta waves took a nose dive on the
transfer, had to pull the plug.
JOHN
(angry)
Why the fuck are you telling me
this FRENCH?
FRENCH
I don't know. Sharing I guess.
JOHN
You almost killed the chimp--
FRENCH
(corrects him)
Orangutan.
John does his best to be patient with her.
JOHN
OK. To finish. I am being strapped
in that thing tomorrow. To do what
has never even been conceived of.
FRENCH
Yup. And?
John gives up.
JOHN
(frustrated, sarcastic)
You have had ample time to develop
your social skills, French. You
have just chosen not to. Let us
move on. Is it ready for tomorrow?
FRENCH
Yes. It will be.
(not terribly confident)
Promise.
JOHN
Look, the kid is dying, he has days
French. We need that thing working
now. Lives depend on it.
French pushes up her glasses.
FRENCH
It will work John. It's designed
for human brains, so it can be
touch and go with other primates.
You my friend will be A-OK.
She gives a weird thumbs up with a crooked smile. Genius, no
doubt, but socially? Hopeless.
John is not sold. She gets serious.
FRENCH (CONT’D)
John it will work. Trust me. And it
will change everything. We can
stick around as long as we like.
John nods as if to say "that's better."
JOHN
I agree, but Enlil does not see it
that way. He thinks it is a
bandaid.
(rubs his forehead, then
looks at French, tired)
He won't stop French. He is insane.
(MORE)
JOHN (CONT’D)
This all has to work.
(deathly serious)
Or we lose. Everyone loses.
BEEP -- BEEP. An alarm on his system. A screen flashes
"Encryption Compromised -- Security Breach."
John looks terrified. He flies through terminals, inputs
commands at light speed.
FRENCH
Are we compromised?
JOHN
Don't know yet. Checking.
He finds something.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Someone is testing our encryption.
Throwing out lines to see if I'll
bite. Everything looks solid.
FRENCH
Should I worry? If anyone got this
location... It's game over.
JOHN
You are safe. Everything on your
end is localized. You are
insulated, my dear, and you need
not worry.
John closes his terminals. He looks tired.
JOHN (CONT’D)
I am going to go out for a while.
You keep working on that thing.
Tomorrow is the day, French.
FRENCH
Yes it is!
John ends the call -- takes a nervous breath.
Genres:
["Drama","Thriller","Sci-Fi"]
Ratings
Scene
3 -
Reckless Highways
INT. JOHN'S SUV - DAY
John in aviators, driving his Porsche SUV. Empty highway,
nothing for miles. Turns on the radio -- Type O Negative --
"I Don't Wanna Be Me." Cranks it. Floors it.
NOW -- OUTSIDE - a bird's eye view of the SUV cruising the
empty stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere.
The SUV dissolves into a late 80s black Camaro flying down
the same stretch.
BEGIN FLASHBACK
The bird's eye view descends toward the Camaro.
SUPER: 2003, NORTHERN COLORADO
INSIDE the same song plays on the radio.
Close on a CD case with white lines of powder and a straw. A
loud SNORT as the straw moves down the line, leaving nothing
behind.
A shaky view of a young man's face. He smiles and pinches his
nose -- eyes fucking wide open. It's John (18), amped. Baggy
pants, layered sleeves, flat-brimmed Wu-Tang cap.
His face is tight, angry. Those eyes hold rage.
JOHN
WOOOO. Motherfuckers. Jesus this
shit hits dude. Fuuhhhyuck.
John is in the passenger seat. The driver is DAVE YUN (20,
Korean American). Dave has a kind face, much friendlier than
John's. He sports a T-shirt and Levis.
DAVE
Pass that shit bro.
His tone is forced. A kid trying to fit in.
John chalks him up a line and passes the case and straw. Dave
snorts it like a pro though. Foot on the gas, elbows on the
wheel -- SNORT --
DAVE (CONT’D)
OH FUCK ME!! Your dad can cook.
He shakes his head and the wheel. The Camaro wobbles --
recovers -- slams his foot on the pedal.
DAVE (CONT’D)
WOOOOO!!
POP -- POP -- John cracks two cheap-ass beers and hands one
to Dave. Dave abides.
JOHN
Hit the gas bro. My dad has a VIP
coming over and we need to clean
shit.
Dave nods and abides. John smiles... thinks a moment.
JOHN (CONT’D)
You can't have a piece tonight. Got
it? Orders.
DAVE
(embarrassed, fake
outrage)
Why not? That --
JOHN
Why the fuck do you think?
DAVE
Dude. The guy reached.
John cracks up.
JOHN
Reached?! Reached? If you mean he
was reaching around to scratch his
ass crack, then sure he reached.
Laughs again.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Bro. You are grounded from guns.
Dad's orders. Now let's go. Hit it.
Dave nods and abides. He looks ashamed.
NOW -- OUTSIDE ON THE ROAD -- the Camaro’s wheels WHOOSH by,
a beer can drops out a window and bounces close. The Camaro
flies away.
FADE TO:
The Camaro kicks up dust on a DIRT ROAD -- approaches a tall
barbed-wire fence squaring off a few acres of dirt. Through
it: a decent house, trailer homes in the distance, rusted
train cars.
The Camaro pulls up to a gate with a camera. Dave looks into
it and waves.
INSIDE - The back of a MAN with a cowboy hat. He watches
Dave on a black and white monitor. He presses a button.
OUTSIDE -- the gate opens and Dave drives to the house. In
the periphery is a big cage containing 2 black bears. Tiger
King vibes.
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
4 -
Chaos in YUN STUDIOS
INT. BILL'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
A nice house with tacky-ass shit. Plaid couches with
cigarette burns. A card table with a half-done poker game
atop. Ashtrays and beer bottles litter the landscape.
Dave makes a beeline up the hallway and stops at a room with
a paper sign taped to the door. It reads "YUN STUDIOS." He
opens the door.
Buckle up.
DAVE’S ROOM is... OH MY. Well, it is a studio. Cameras on
tripods from all angles. Low and high. Three single beds
pushed together in the center. The elephant in the room is
what is on said beds:
1. Big Purple Dildo. 2. Strings of large black beads. 3. 1
muzzle with matching ball gag and flogger (must be a set). 4.
Unknown amount of KY Jelly tubes.
This is most definitely a porn studio. Dave smiles. Not in a
pervy way -- he is proud of this shit.
He starts picking up items with his bare hands and places
them in a bin. He tidies up a small costume area --
highlighted by: FORREST GUMP'S WHITE SUIT AND SHOES, MARTY
McFLY'S DENIM JACKET/ORANGE VEST ENSEMBLE, ARNIE'S LEATHER
TERMINATOR OUTFIT, A MAN AND A WOMAN'S SUIT with ID BADGES
reading "XXX-FILES - AGENT PUSSY" and "XXX-FILES - AGENT
POUNDER" and last, the centerpiece, a fucking VELOCIRAPTOR
COSTUME, spread eagle with a CROTCH-HOLE.
Hold on... Only one dinosaur costume... please, there has to
be another... Nope. GOOD GOD.
The production area has VHS TAPES with Sharpie-written titles
-- The Sperminator, Boink to the Future, The XXX-Files,
Forest Hump, and... FOR FUCK'S SAKE -- Ass-Lick Park.
Dave's CHIHUAHUA runs in to greet him -- BARK -- BARK -- he
picks her up and gives her a kiss.
DAVE
(baby talk voice)
Hey there my little SPORTY SPICE.
Ohhh, you have been pooping in the
house. Haaahh-vent you? Haaah-vent
you? You sneaky minx.
Dave gives her a gentle loving hug. It seems Dave loves two
things in this world, his dog and his studio.
BILL (O.C)
(yells)
Dave, get your ass out here. Got
business. Your gonorrhea den can
wait!
Dave makes his way to the LIVING ROOM -- sees John standing
at attention and Bill with his back arched looking like a
tiny general. Dave falls in line.
BILL (40s) -- an uncomfortably small man, wiry. Flannel,
Levis, massive belt buckle, obnoxious cowboy hat atop his
tiny head. His eyes, his face, it all screams “crazy person”
or “neurological disease.”
In action, Bill has two settings: 1. batshit crazy 2.facial
twitch followed by 1-3 seconds of blank-stare-body-freeze,
likely Absence seizures. Meth-brain is a more concise
diagnosis of Bill’s malady.
BILL (CONT’D)
Boys... we got a VIP coming. This
man is cartel-connected -- can take
3 pounds a month off our hands. So
gotta do some work. First...
Bill TWITCH/PAUSE || .... REWIND << a touch... then PLAY >
Where does he go in those frozen moments?
BILL (CONT’D)
Firstly, first... we need to clean
our kitchen, want it like...
like... Betty Crocker could bake
cookies in there. Want steel and
glass to shine like a... like a...
like a... Mermaid's butthole. Get
it?
Based on the confused looks, they don't. And the fact Bill
does a creepy fish/duck-hybrid face isn't helping anybody's
comprehension.
He nailed the first simile, then... splat. Credit for jumping
in eyes closed. If only he could land the vehicle.
BILL (CONT’D)
First... cause it's important...
Dave...
TWITCH/BLANK-STARE || -- one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand --
NOW... >
BILL (CONT’D)
Dave... Second, nobody will be
shooting nobody tonight. No killing
anyone. I had to cut the bastard up
with the chainsaw and feed him to
the bears -- shit-heel.
Dave looks nervous.
BILL (CONT’D)
(to Dave)
Boy, I raised you right. You just
gotta pay more attention sometimes
is all.
Bill seems human for a moment here...
DAVE
(defensive)
He drew though. Or--
JOHN
He was pulling his undies out of
his butt dude!!
BILL
Stick it is then.
Bill face goes red, eyes crazify -- he takes three steps
toward Dave -- plants his hands on Dave’s shoulders --
creates a wide base -- swings his leg back then forward,
leading with the knee -- BONE, MEET BALLS -- perfect contact
between Patella and Testicles. Must have felt like a home run
off the bat.
Dave falls to the ground and cries like a baby. Bill looks
stunned and points to his kneecap.
BILL (CONT’D)
I can still feel both balls on my
knee... That was perfection...
Dave's eyes well up with tears.
BEGIN FLASHBACK
SUPER: 2 WEEKS AGO
SAME LIVING ROOM -- Bill stands facing a MAN (50s), calmly
having a conversation. This guy wears a flashy WHITE AND
LIGHT BLUE SUIT, circa 1982, accentuated by one hell of a
porn-stache.
Dave stands next to Bill -- sweating like Elvis doing a set
in the karate years. John sits 5 feet away, playing
solitaire.
DAVE: {Can't hear them -- something about how to brine a
turkey? -- (HEARTBEAT overwhelms all sound) -- BUHH-BUMMP!! --
BUHH-BUMP!!... too fast -- shit, my heart is gonna explode}
Bill and 80s man have a laugh. Everyone is relaxed, except
Dave.
Dark circles under Dave's eyes -- jaw grinding. He is high AF
and sleep-deprived.
DAVE: {Can't see -- Blurry -- Clear -- Blurry... (Re: 80s
Man) He is going for his gun...}
NOW -- crystal clear reality -- 80s man moves his hand toward
his behind -- picks and scratches his rear.
DAVE: {Blurry -- Clear... fuck, sweat in my eyes -- He is
going for a fucking gun -- crazy fucker -- I knew it --
fucking sneaky mustache...}
Dave's pupils like pin-dots.
DAVE: {Shaky -- Blurry -- IT'S A FUCKING DIRTY HARRY GUN --
How the fuck did that fit in there? -- Oh... evil fucker is
smiling. It's now or never.}
Dave's shaky-ass hand reaches for a gun tucked in his back
waist -- the gun fumbles and... whoopsie...
Tracking it -- time slows -- THEN -- this fucking gun, shit
you not, strikes the ground nose first -- awkward double-
bounce, barrel-to-grip -- flings it up and forward on a
trajectory through the gap between Dave's legs -- Dave's
crotch above -- gun rotating on x-axis at a funeral's pace --
enters Dave's danger zone -- gun lingers as the barrel points
at his nuts -- clears his crotch -- sticks the landing on the
carpet, halfway between Dave and 80s man.
Well shit... Everyone looks confused. Nobody interprets this
as hostile. Everyone has a gun somewhere on them -- a mere
faux pax.
They all stare at this gun -- silent -- with “What the fuck
just happened?”, followed by, “Should I pick it up? Or
should you pick it up?” “We can’t leave a gun on the fucking
floor so... what do we do?” non-verbal exchanges. All so
cordial -- polite.
80’s man takes initiative.
80'S MAN
(politely)
It's fine son, let me help you with
that. You could have been hurt.
80s man approaches Dave to retrieve the gun.
DAVE: {A menacing 80s man bends down for the gun -- Tunnel-
Vision -- Blurry -- THEN -- ADRENALINE RUSH -IMMEDIATE,
PERFECT FOCUS -- NOW -- PINNED ON GUN}
METH-FUELED-ADRENALINE -- Dave swoops in, beats 80s man to
the gun, points it at him -- thumb flicks off safety. 80s man
is still bent over. Has no clue.
80s man -- GROAN -- getting back to standing -- raises his
head -- clocks the barrel.
80'S MAN (CONT’D)
You gotta be more caref--
BANG -- the man's head explodes -- brain, blood and bone
cover the wall -- the recoil flings Dave's arm up like a
pendulum -- gun aimed at the ceiling -- BANG -- a big fucking
hole in the ceiling -- rains sheet rock and dust on Bill and
Dave's heads.
Dave stares blankly at the wall. He is in shock and, like the
other three people in the room (including the dead guy), has
no idea what the fuck just happened.
END FLASHBACK
THE SAME LIVING ROOM 2 WEEKS LATER
Easing in super close on the couch -- small dried chunks of
skull, blood, hair, and brain adhere to fabric -- they
wriggle as a slight breeze passes through the room.
BACK TO SCENE
Bill laughs so hard he has to bend over and put his hands on
his knees -- gets a fit of smoker's cough, then stands above
Dave who is still on the ground in agony.
BILL
You will not shoot this man. I
don't care if he tries to lick your
scrote. You will just sit back and
get your berries licked then ask
for a rim job. Got it?
Dave nods from the ground, still in agony. John stands over
Dave now.
JOHN
How bout we get your stupid dog to
lick your balls? You like that
shit, don't ya? Don't ya? Nasty
fuckerrrr.
Nothing like his older counterpart. This John is all crazy,
all sadism.
Dave slowly gets up.
BILL
Give me your gun.
Dave hands him his 9mm -- head down in shame.
BILL (CONT’D)
You will be cleaning your sex room.
Do not leave that room until I tell
ya. Make sure to burn them ass-
streaked sheets and kill every last
herrrr-peeee!
Dave nods.
BILL (CONT’D)
Needs to be cleaner than my
prick... after...
Bill TWITCH/FREZZE|| One-one-thou-- and..... >
BILL (CONT’D)
... doin' a whore.
He starts so strong with these things... it's a shame. Oh...
hang on. Bill is going to attempt a simile-recovery.
BILL (CONT’D)
A whore... with... crabs. Ya. You
know? Gotta scrub that shit out of
it.
No, we do not know, Bill. Please enlighten us.
BILL (CONT’D)
You gotta... You gotta... scrub...
your... shit... out -- those nasty
little fuckers biiiiite.
What the fuh...? Bill starts in like he is on stage at a
poetry jam on no rhyming night.
OH MY -- Bill grabs his crotch and moves the contents in a
circular motion.
OH NO -- it looks like Bill is gonna take this to another
level -- yup -- fucker breaks into song -- a country song...
BILL (CONT’D)
You gotta... You gotta... wash...
that sack... boys -- after layin'
with a nasty wuhuhhman.
Bill's body takes motion, like a leprechaun on speed. Looks
like a dance from Hee-Haw on fast-forward.
John watches... confused -- processing... then approves.
A FREESTYLE BREAKS OUT!
Yeehaww! John is killin' it... keep in mind the bar is on the
ground here.
Cowboy boots a-stompin' -- imaginary lassos a-twirlin' --
even quick draws of pointer-finger-guns... one-handed quick
draws, of course. Why?
For this number, there seems to be one unspoken rule -- "ONE
HAND MUST REMAIN ON BALLS AT ALL TIMES" -- everything else is
garnish.
Even Dave is back in play -- Talk about trying to fit in. He
does a phantom ball scrub as he winces and does his best to
smile.
Finally, after 10 long seconds, it is over -- and everyone is
a bit better off having learned about genital hygiene.
BILL (CONT’D)
Now let's get to work. This place
needs to be tighter than ah... than
ah... Virgin's Vah...
The sound fades before Bill finally lands a simile.
END FLASHBACK
END ACT ONE
FADE OUT.
ACT TWO
Genres:
["Drama","Crime","Comedy"]
Ratings
Scene
5 -
Preparation for the Job
INT. KEMP'S BEDROOM - DAY
Easing back -- a dark-cobalt iris -- an eye -- a man's face
takes shape. KEMP ALBURN (50s, Black-British) a rugged Alpha
with serious gravitas.
Kemp sits up in bed, puts his face in his palms, rubs his
eyes, and yells out --
SUPER: WEST MIDLANDS COUNTY, UK - 2025
KEMP
(Brummie accent)
CADE, wake the fuck up you. Have
work today...
CADE
(same accent)
Ok Dad, give me a bit, fuck....
CADE (mid-20s, Black-British) Kemp's son. Total badass.
The OLD HOUSE is pretty run-down. It's a dump.
They meet in the KITCHEN for breakfast and eat like prisoners
-- fast, efficient.
CADE (CONT’D)
So what's the job?
KEMP
Got two. First, we gots a bit of
wet-work for our MI5 mates.
CADE
Why can't they do it themselves
this time?
KEMP
Cause they want it done right is
why. We meet at the chopper in 30.
So get ready.
CADE
What's the other job?
KEMP
For the Americans.
CADE
Fuckin CIA minges again.
Kemp's phone dings. He checks.
KEMP
MI5. We will have to finish
breakfast later. Let's get
strapped.
They head to KEMP'S ROOM. Kemp slides a lockbox from under
the bed -- REVEALING -- guns, knives, grenades, and assorted
badass shit.
MUSIC CUE: "METAL GODS" by Judas Priest
-- Kemp puts on black combat pants and a tactical vest --
secures various blades in pockets -- the KNUCKLE KARAMBIT is
the filthiest
-- Sounds of zippers and Velcro find the rhythm
-- He removes two handguns: a SIG SAUER P228 M11-A1 and a
GLOCK 19
-- Cade puts on camo combat pants and tactical vest. His
choice of blade: a COLD STEEL PUSH DAGGER. For guns: a
BERETTA 92 and CZ 75
-- They place their guns on the desk -- side by side
-- At otherworldly speed, they tear the guns down -- a blur
-- Lay components on a soft towel -- clean
-- Reassemble in unison -- like it's a race -- the speed
supernatural
-- Gun-metal engaging -- CLICK - CLICK -- synchronized in
rhythm with the music of their Birmingham brethren
END MUSIC
Genres:
["Action","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
6 -
Operation: Foggy Infiltration
EXT. GRASS FIELD - DAY
Helicopter lands in a field. Kemp and Cade exit their RANGE
ROVER and are greeted by DAWN (40s), MI5 through and through.
DAWN
Alright, you brawny Brummies, ready
to take down a terrorist?
KEMP
Would have liked to get this shit
done before breakfast -- but sure,
let's go kill this wanka.
DAWN
Good, he is a nasty one. Latest
intel has it, he is planning
attacks on schools right here in
the Black Country.
CADE
Oh, fancies himself a big tyma,
does he? Let's put an end to this
piece of shit. Who is he?
DAWN
DRAMMAD KASSAR. Real name --
WILLIAM CORNCHESTER. An expat with
ties to about every terrorist
organization in the Middle East and
Eastern Europe. This is his big
play to get an invite from Syria.
Let's nip that in the bud, shall we
boys?
KEMP
Enough dossin' about. Let's go.
FADE TO:
A FOGGY FIELD -- about 100 yards out is a run-down abandoned
TENEMENT.
DAWN
(Re: Tenement building)
There are about 10 guards. Drammad--
CADE
I like Willy.
(looks to his dad)
Let’s call him Willy.
Kemp looks annoyed. Dawn chuckles.
DAWN
Sorry, Willy, is on the third floor
making the bombs. Be careful and be
quick.
CADE
I am a scalpel, miss, always quick.
I do take my time at other
activities though...
He winks at her.
KEMP
Ignore junior. Apologies, miss. We
won't be dossin' about, don't
worry.
CADE
(being a smart ass)
Oh, but can I do the bomb thing
pop, pop? Please. I didn't get to
finish last time.
Kemp smiles and gives him a "you're saft" look.
KEMP
We are gonna move in from the
north. When I raise my hand, cut
the power.
DAWN
Got it.
Kemp and Cade get night vision goggles and attach silencers
to their guns.
Then -- POOF -- they fly through the fog like wild animals.
Through gaps in the fog they appear to be moving at
otherworldly speed... impossible. Kemp signals to cut the
power -- lights out.
They stand, backs to the door -- pull down night vision and
enter the TENEMENT.
It's a night vision turkey shoot. Five men dead in less than
four seconds.
CADE
Clear.
They make their way up the stairs, where more unlucky
bastards have no chance in hell.
Windows on this level are open --light-- Night vision off.
Old nasty carpet covers a catwalk that leads to the top
floor. They push on. More goons approach.
Cade de-throats one with his PUSH DAGGER -- no screams
allowed -- throws him over the rail -- THUD --
Kemp puts silent bullet holes in two foreheads. Cade gives a
"you're no fun" shrug.
Kemp smirks. As if to say “ok son, watch and learn”
Kemp holsters his gun and spins a knuckle karambit on each
hand. A blur. 2 foes approach... Then charge.
Kemp takes one graceful step, drops to a knee, wrists
intertwined as he swings his arms in one ghostly motion. Kemp
closes his eyes, wrists above his head. As the goons reach
for Kemp, his wrists explode into controlled 90 turn. --SLICE-
-
Blood and a entire Adam's apple now on the blades. The men
fall to the floor hands over their necks choking...dying.
Kemp flings the large chunk of cartilage and it sticks,
obstructing the view. Blurry bloody-gooey mass slowly slides
down and --PLOP-- it hits the floor. The view is restored.
That was some ancient violence.
Drammad busts out of a room, holding a trigger.
DRAMMAD
I will blow this fuckin place.
KEMP
Really, you would just blow it all
up? That wouldn't be memorable now,
would it?
(looks to Cade)
Would it, son?
CADE
Considering we don't exist in the
eyes of the British Government, it
will be written up as some stupid
wannabe terrorist who blew hisself
up and shat his pants.
(pauses)
"Shite Bomber" be the headline.
They laugh. Drammad doesn't find it funny.
KEMP
Son. That was quite good.
CADE
You see what I did there? Been
workshopping it on the drive over.
DRAMMAD
You're insane!
They ignore him.
CADE
Is that a dead man's trigger,
Willy? Can I call you Willy? I'm
going to call you Willy. Drammad is
not your name, is it? William
Cornchester.
Cade looks around.
CADE (CONT’D)
So where is the bomb Willy?
Points to the room behind him.
DRAMMAD
It's in there. And if I let go--
CADE
Yeah, yeah. Boom. We get it.
Cade goes in. Returns with three bombs. Starts juggling them.
Drammad's eyes go wide.
DRAMMAD
Stop! You'll kill us all!
KEMP
(trying not to laugh)
Son, don't kill us.
CADE
It won't be like last time. Promise
Pop. I've been practicing.
KEMP
On what? I don't have bombs lying
around the house.
CADE
Oranges. Heavy oranges.
Cade tosses one bomb up. Catches it. Then two. Nearly drops
one. Drammad looks like he might faint.
CADE (CONT’D)
OK, OK. I think I feel the weight
now.
DRAMMAD
Please! I have information! I can--
CADE
Too late, Willy.
Cade runs at Drammad. Squeezes his hand around the trigger so
it can't release. Shoves him and the bombs through the third-
floor window. Drammad explodes before he hits the ground.
Kemp and Cade look down at the mess.
KEMP
You think he soiled himself?
CADE
Shite Bomber. Eh?
KEMP
Ya, but a shame we'll never have
proof.
CADE
It's the unknowing that keeps me up
at night.
They head for the exit.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
7 -
Darknet Discoveries
INT. KEMP'S KITCHEN - DAY
Back at the house, like nothing happened. They calmly finish
breakfast.
Kemp’s boot has a dried chunk of someone stuck to it. Back on
Kemp.
KEMP
The next job is simple. Some spooks
want us to find some darknet drug
kingpin and bring him to them.
CADE
Should be easy. We will need ZAZ.
KEMP
He is already on his way over.
CADE
You know the CIA built the darknet,
but now they hire out when they
need to find some dodgy fucka.
Fuckin yampy.
KEMP
Nobody wants to get their donnies
dirty anymore. Want deniability, so
they outsource. It's the American
way, son.
CADE
Question... What the fuck does the
CIA want with a darknet drug
dealer? That's feds, not spooks.
KEMP
I learnt not to ask questions and
get paid.
They nod and finish eating. KNOCK-KNOCK.
Kemp answers the door. A peculiar, short-skinny Welshman
stands at the entrance. ZAZ (late 40s). He has a Boba Fett T-
shirt on.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Alright Zaz. It's been too long
mate.
Gives Zaz a bearhug.
ZAZ
(Welsh accent)
KEMP, you ol cont uffar. Been too
long it has. Harder to keep track
of time the older we get.
KEMP
Aye to that. Ol salty dawgs is what
we are.
They have a laugh.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Get your gear and let's see if we
can't help the Americans and make
ackers.
Zaz grabs his duffle and follows Kemp. Dissolves to
A OLD BACKYARD GARAGE -- INSIDE is a Table, boxes and rusty
junk.
Zaz quickly opens his duffle and removes a fancy laptop --
hooks up some external hardware (all high tech). And boots up
to a terminal - lickety split.
ZAZ
We are on the darknet folks. Took a
whole minute, it did. Scary -- a
sprog can do this. What's the
market called?
KEMP
God's Kingdom... gawby.
ZAZ
Ok, it's here. Let's take a look at
all the tasty treats, shall we?
On screen: God's Kingdom. Slick design -- the Amazon of
drugs. Illustrations, cryptic watermarks, statues of gods.
Ancient vibe. And every drug ever.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Fucking Quaaludes! No way. They
outlawed those in the 80s.
CADE
What are Quaaludes?
ZAZ
Delicious they are.
KEMP
Come on. What are we looking at?
They examine the market for clues.
KEMP (CONT’D)
That logo there, can you make it
bigger?
Zaz nods and opens the image in another window.
KEMP (CONT’D)
That looks pretty fuckin familiar.
Do you see it?
ZAZ
I see the pearly gates, I do. St.
Peter, there -- it is God's Kingdom
and all.
KEMP
No... not the fuckin gates. There--
zoom in there.
(points)
On that thing.
ZAZ
Sure... one sec... Holy shit, you
are right.
On the screen -- a green wispy UMBRA, identical to the ghost
things from John's dream.
CADE
Click on that.
Points to a link -- "ADMIN."
All the messages are signed with one letter -- E. It grabs
their attention.
KEMP
He wouldn't be that careless now,
would he?
ZAZ
Oh... my... How long has it been
since you seen 'em?
KEMP
Long time... It can't be him...
selling drugs. Bananas.
Kemp looks to Cade with a confused look.
CADE
It's pretty fuckin clear it is him.
Don't be all wankery, pops. Uncle E
is a disruptor when he wants to be.
Always has been.
(pauses to think --
smiles)
Two words -- Mark Antony.
Kemp growls and looks away.
ZAZ
Let me dig a bit here. Couple hours
and I will have this bloke's
address, phone, who he is having it
off with, and the length of his P-
END ACT TWO
ACT THREE
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
8 -
Reflections and Deals at the Old Jones Compound
EXT. OLD JONES COMPOUND - DAY
John stands by his Porsche staring at the wreckage of his old
life. Making peace with the vessel he has resided in for the
last 22 years.
JOHN
(out loud)
John, you in there? Do you miss
this place?
No response.
JOHN (CONT’D)
I always wonder if you can hear me.
You all fade from me so fast. But I
still think you can.
John walks toward the house. He glances at once was a bear
pen. Now only rusted fences on the dirt. Slow dissolve.
BEGIN FLASHBACK
The BEAR PEN. An 8’x8’x8’ fence atrocity under a couple ash
trees. Inside-- A few boulders and logs, a dirty water trough
and 2 sleeping black bears. About 100 feet ahead, John and
Dave walk toward a TRAILER HOME.
To the west, the sun begins its evening descent.
NOW -- THE FRONT OF THE CRAPPY TRAILER HOME
John opens the door -- REVEALING -- one big-ass METH LAB.
John and Dave enter.
Think Walter and Jesse’s RV but three times as big. It is
fairly well maintained - clean and organized. Likely top
notch for a lab of its kind. Metal tanks, glass wear, work
benches. Walter would curmudgeonly approve, then he would
kill Bill and take over.
John pulls out a huge bag of meth and gives an evil smile.
CLOSE on John’s face. Like his father, he makes the hairs on
the back of your neck stand up.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Let's... fuckin... clean!
Dave nods and abides as he always does.
BEGIN MONTAGE
-- John snorting meth
-- Dave snorting meth
-- John sweeping
-- Dave wiping down wood tables
-- John organizing tools. Stopping to examine sharp things.
-- Dave cleaning glassware
-- John snorting meth
-- Dave snorting meth
-- John mooning Dave, possibly farting
-- Dave giving the smelly face
-- John tonguing a Pamela Anderson poster, then plowing his
phantom Johnson to crescendo, flinging imaginary... yup.
-- Dave crazily cleaning walls
-- John aggressively licks, humps, and chokes various pieces
of equipment
-- Both admiring their work. Pleased.
END MONTAGE
--NOW-- John and Bill stand at the COMPOUND’S ENTRANCE GATE
Nearing dusk. Car lights -- a silver Mercedes kicks up dust.
John runs to the gate -- lets the Mercedes through.
THOMAS MAXWELL (50s, white) exits the vehicle. He doesn't
look like a cartel-connected meth distributor. He resembles
Mr. Rogers with a beer gut. As harmless as they come.
Bill and John go to greet him.
BILL
Mr. Maxwell, how is Colorado
treatin' ya?
TOM
It is a beautiful state, I love it.
I would live here if the wife
didn't love the beach so much.
They chuckle.
Behind them, Dave walks out of the house with a transparent
trash bag clearly full of used condoms -- tosses them in a
bin. Tom takes notice.
BILL
Do you mind if I call you Thomas?
TOM
Call me Tom.
BILL
Ok Tom, would you like a drink?
Beer, whiskey, Tab-Cola? We can go
in the house and chat.
TOM
I do not want to be rude, but I am
all business, Bill, nothing
personal. I would prefer we do the
tour and negotiate.
BILL
I like a man who doesn't slow-jerk
the pony. First, I am going to have
my boy pat you down real quick.
Tom seems to get Bill's vibe and looks amused.
TOM
Full disclosure, I have a .38
holstered in my jacket. Concealed
carry not a crime out here.
They chuckle.
BILL
Thank you, not a problem.
John gives a thumbs up.
JOHN
No wire.
BILL
You can keep the gun sir. Everyone
here is packin' and I like a fair
fight. Well, let's not stand here
dicks a-danglin'.
Bill sways his hips while dangling his arm between his legs.
He gestures toward a golf cart.
They drive toward a backdrop of a dark orange Colorado sunset
and white-tipped peaks of the Front Range.
They park outside the mobile home. The sun sets behind the
horizon as the full moon takes over light duties for the
night.
BILL (CONT’D)
...and Florida is the only place
you can find two, one-legged
hookers, my friend. Gators...
Bill uses both index fingers in a hopping motion. Gets cross-
eyed looking at them -- shakes his head vigorously.
BILL (CONT’D)
That be the trip I got John-Boy his
first hooker. She had two. Legs
that is. Tits too.
John nods proudly. The look on his face is priceless, like he
won an award.
Tom takes this in. Entertained on the surface, disgusted
underneath. His move: weaponized sarcasm.
TOM
Well, wasn't that a wonderful
story, Bill. I'm sure the rest of
it involves copious amounts of
Penicillin, but we must push on,
friend. The lab, I presume...
Tom pats Bill on the back as a cold breeze blows Bill’s
stupid cowboy hat sideways.
They head into the lab.
Genres:
["Crime","Action","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
9 -
Death in the Meth Lab
INT. METH LAB - CONTINUOUS
Shiny polished metal everywhere.
BILL
Look around. It's glorious... like
a... like... oiled-up booty-rama.
Ya. Shiny. Yehhhs?
Bill grinds his hips on a big stainless steel tank while
making creepy eye contact with Tom.
TOM
Steel can be shiny, yes.
BILL
(re: steel tank)
Fucking shiny smooth bottom here,
huh? Can make 4 pounds a cook with
this baby. The best in the West.
Most wanted meth for five states...
in every direction.
(arms open wide, re: the
lab)
Nobody puts baby... in the... in
the... corner... and... nobody
fucks her but me! And John-Boy.
Tom cringes. Based on his reaction, it is not clear whether
he has seen Dirty Dancing. Probably not.
TOM
John-Boy can cook too?
BILL
John, can you cook?
JOHN
I cook good shit, sir. Hells yeah!!
That same trophy-winning look. Begging for approval.
BILL
Second best cook in the West.
Taught him when he was 12.
TOM
Wonderful to hear. I love your
enthusiasm, son. And Bill... you
must be so proud. A chip off the
ol' block here.
Tom grins ear to ear, shadow boxing at John like he's 10.
TOM (CONT’D)
I have no doubt you cook excellent
meth, young man.
Full 1950s TV dad now. These guys don't catch on.
Tom walks off and explores the lab.
BILL
(to Tom)
Go ahead, take a look around.
Tom ignores -- he didn't ask for permission.
He clocks -- a BOX CUTTER.
TOM
(whispers to himself)
Bingo.
Bill somehow hears this. Tweaker hearing.
BILL
Fuckin A! BINGO, that's what this
all is. One big fuckin Bingo. A
Blahhhhhck-ouhht... Some of them
Bingo ladies too...
Whisper-yells with hand visor over mouth --
BILL (CONT’D)
Desperate for the D-I-C-K.
Tom has his back turned, still checking surroundings.
TOM
(couldn't give less of a
fuck)
Oh my... How great was that?
Spelling it out too...
Thank...you...Bill.
Tom picks up the box cutter -- pockets it -- unbuttons
holster, oh so casual. Clocks a CASSETTE TAPE PLAYER and a
STACK OF CASSETTES.
TOM (CONT’D)
Do you guys mind if I put on some
music here?
JOHN
Go ahead man, it's mostly my stuff.
Newer stuff. Don't know if you--
Bill cuts John off with a nudge and stink eye -- mouths "shut
the fuck up." Tom chuckles.
TOM
It's fine son. I am much, much
older than you think.
Tom sifts through the tapes. One gets his attention. Written
in pen on the copied tape: "DANZIG - GODZ KILL" followed by a
shitty drawing of a skull.
TOM (CONT’D)
Glenn Danzig, you beautiful demon
bastard.
JOHN
Fuckin-A... Danzig is my dark lord.
Tom laughs and plays the tape.
MUSIC CUE: "How the Gods Kill" by Danzig
The song opens gently. "Ohhhh... Hohh Wahh Whohh Whohh-
ohhh...."
TOM
Well, gentlemen, I am truly
impressed by your lab. Smaller, but
much better than the ones I oversaw
in the Middle East.
BILL
No shit? I did not know that. Them
diaper heads cook meth in the
fucking desert? Shiiiiihhht. I bet
it paid for Suudaamm's chemical
bombs.
Tom's tone sharpens.
TOM
Wow, Bill. You get an A+... Yes...
Amphetamines and opium funded the
regime. In fact, I worked for
Hussein, running logistics. Ohhh
Saddam...
(pauses)
(in a fascinated tone)
Not your average psychopath, oh no.
A megalomaniac... Rare breed. This
is silly, but I make lists. It's a
game my brother and I played. A
list I keep is the ten best and
worst people I have met. Saddam is
number 5 on my worst list. I have
met sooo many people. Making any
list is impressive.
BILL
We kicked his ass though. Scud
missiles went scuh-daddle.
Tom ignores the dumbass comment.
TOM
Do you know Saddam ordered a Quran
be made, written in his own blood?
No shit.
(MORE)
TOM (CONT’D)
Some poor kid, maybe 20, was chosen
because he had good handwriting.
(quick laugh)
So this kid slaves away, dipping
his pen in a coffee mug of Saddam's
blood day and night for a week. He
got 10 pages done maybe. Saddam
looks it over, shakes his head,
walks to the kitchen, and returns
with a paring knife. Without saying
one word, Saddam slits the kid's
throat.
Tom's eyes change.
TOM (CONT’D)
I am watching all of this...
stunned... Saddam's hands, dripping
with blood. He walks back to the
table, picks up an apple... bites
into it--
(mimics biting an apple)
--blood all over his mouth... Like
nothing happened. The man is a
fucking animal.
(chuckles)
Then he says to me... "we can put
my blood in a print press, no need
to write it all." And he starts
laughing hysterically.
Danzig gets louder, clearer, without any human
intervention... "Would you let it gohh ohhh... Would you...
let..it.. gohhh ohh."
These guys have not a clue. Oblivious.
Tom's eyes sparkle luminescent green. Bill. And John stare
into them -- hypnotized -- they nod with flat affects.
Danzig swells -- "They cannot end this mourrrrning. Of my
liiife, Show-me... how the gaaahhhds kiiilll." The guitar
becomes a banshee.
BILL
Who are you?
TOM
Who am I? The answer is
complicated. I have been many
people. But it's the wrong
question, Bill. The right question
would be... What am I?
Tom's voice reverberates off the walls, shaking the trailer.
His face vibrates -- blurry. The bogeyman.
TOM (CONT’D)
To some, I am a source of
salvation. To others I may be a
reminder of lost wisdom. To you
Bill, in this moment, I am death.
Aren't you listening to the music,
Bill? Danzig is singing to you,
shit-face.
Tom focuses his hypnotic stare on John -- Locks eyes.
TOM (CONT’D)
John, there still is a chance at
redemption for you. Stay calm, boy,
and keep eye contact.
Bill comes out of his trance -- lunges toward Tom -- THEN --
like a fucking ninja - Tom -- right hand-box cutter-- left
hand .38 -- SLICE -- Bill's carotid opens -- BANG -- bullet
between the eyes -- Tom's gaze never unlocks from John's.
Less than one second of violence -- Bill falls dead to the
ground.
Danzig -- "Show-me... how the gaaahhhds kiiilll."
Tom slowly approaches John -- THEN -- turns the gun on
himself -- BANG -- ends his own life.
A green entity exits Tom's body and enters John. His eyes
flash green, then settle to cobalt-black.
John walks calmly to the cassette player -- CLICK -- SILENCE.
END MUSIC CUE
Sneakers --POUND-- dirt outside. John gets the .38 from Tom’s
dead hand -- raises it toward the door.
--CRACK-- the door flies open. It’s Dave with a shotgun.
Spots John and lowers it. John doesn’t lower his, but Dave
doesn’t notice, he sees Bill’s body -- rushes to it -- drops
to his knees.
DAVE
What the fuck!! Jesus fucking
Christ man. He is fucking dead.
Fuck...
Dave looks at Bill's dead body.
DAVE (CONT'D) (CONT’D)
You dumb motherfucker. You shoulda
let me keep my goddamn gun...
John lifts his gun at Dave -- BUT -- Dave cries over the man
who abused him. John seems intrigued by Dave. Puts his gun
away.
Dave turns to John.
DAVE (CONT'D) (CONT’D)
Shit man. I am sorry dude. What the
fuck? The dude sounded chill.
JOHN
Not chill.... Not chill at all.
John studies Dave and grins. A pet project, maybe.
JOHN (CONT'D) (CONT’D)
I am going to need your help.
DAVE
Ya, Jefe, whatever you need.
JOHN
We are going to need the CHAINSAW
and the BEARS.
END FLASHBACK
FADE OUT.
END ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
Genres:
["Crime","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
10 -
Mission Prep and Departure
INT. KEMP'S GARAGE - DAY
Kemp and Cade enter.
KEMP
Any progress, Zaz?
ZAZ
Yes, found him. The exit node was
compromised. I simply tickled its
front bits and snuck in its back
bits. CIA had no chance. They have
shite hackers now.
KEMP
You are a miracle worker, my old
friend. So... who is he?
ZAZ
Interesting, not the type for sure.
Single dad, lost his wife to cancer
3 years ago, has a teenage
daughter. Poor guy has his hands
full. But... he is rich, like
fucking Elon Musk rich. All off the
books.
KEMP
Oh... Ok then. Explains the CIA. He
must have dipped his Johnson in
somebody's porridge. Name and
location.
Cade and Zaz look excited.
ZAZ
Vegas is by Colorado, right?
KEMP
Yes, but only after we get paid,
Zaz. Calling CIA blokes now.
Alright lads, gear up. We got a
plane to catch.
Cade and Zaz do silent fist pumps.
No time to waste. They prepare for the trip.
--NOW-- Time for a...
MONTAGE
-- Luggage -- CRACK -- ZIP -- ZIP --
-- Sad looks as Kemp and Cade return weapons the storage box -
- BLUMMP -- CLICK --
-- House door -- SLAM --
-- A cab ride. Car door -- SLAM --
-- Arrive at HEATHROW
-- On their phones in the SECURITY LINE. Candy Crush on
Kemp's screen.
-- Cade sets off the body scanner. Airport officer points to
a screen -- red square blinks on his crotch
-- Officer frisks him
-- Cade winks and smiles at an attractive woman while
gesturing toward the red crotch square
-- She smiles
CADE
(whispers to woman)
Happens every time.
-- Board PLANE -- takes off -- HEEEHHHHEEWWW --
-- The three asleep. Zaz head on Cade’s shoulder
-- Cade exits the airplane bathroom, followed by the woman
from security line. -- disheveled -- Cade sits -- lipstick on
his neck.
-- Wheels hit -- BUMP -- BUMP -- SQUEEEELL --
-- They deplane -- enter DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
Kemp, Zaz, and Cade clocking all the weird DIA shit:
-- CREEPY GARGOYLE SCULPTURES
-- ALIEN SKULL ENCASED IN GLASS
-- APOCALYPTIC MURALS WITH NAZI-ZOMBIE-LOOKING DUDES HOLDING
SUBMACHINE GUNS
ABOVE -- GROUND TRANSPORTATION / RENTAL CAR signs.
END MONTAGE
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Crime"]
Ratings
Scene
11 -
Ambush in the Shadows
INT. DIA - UNDERGROUND RENTAL CAR PARKING GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
A dark underground parking garage.
CADE
So what car you get? A luxury
vehicle? A Tesla?
KEMP
You know we haven't been paid yet,
right? This is all on my ackers,
son. And a fuckin tiny Tesla? No...
Kemp takes out the keys and presses the button. A shitty old
DODGE CARAVAN honks -- lights up. A MAN is chillin' by the
Minivan. He has blacked-out sunglasses on... in a dark
parking garage.
Kemp waves as they approach -- BUT -- in his periphery,
clocks a hand exposed behind a concrete pillar. Other side --
another person hiding terribly.
KEMP (CONT’D)
(smiling, whispering)
Slow down, these ent friends.
CADE
These? As in more than one? I only
see the one bloke. Do they all have
fucking sunglasses on?
KEMP
Smile. Don't mooch...
Cade and Zaz -- wide smiles and waves to Corey Hart dude by
the Caravan.
CADE
It's a perfect trap. Our lot here,
fresh off the plane... no weapons.
So... do we leg it, or do we scrap
boys?
ZAZ
You know me. I love some good
ballistic therapy.
KEMP
Fight it is, then. Stay close and
follow my lead.
Kemp stops to tie his shoes. Zaz starts to do the same --
KEMP (CONT’D)
(whispering angrily)
Stop, ya saft fucka. Why don't we
all tie our fuckin shoes together
now? That don't look suspicious.
ZAZ
You said to follow your lead.
Zaz starts to stand.
KEMP
(grunts, whispers)
Get back down here. More suspicious
if you stop, ya knob.
ZAZ
You know what's suspicious? The
fucking sunglasses, so I wouldn't
worry too much.
Kemp removes a sharp plastic blade sewn into his shoe.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
I want one of those.
Kemp ignores him and stands with a huge fake smile.
KEMP
Alright you, you the tossa?
No answer.
KEMP (CONT’D)
(louder)
The tossa, are you the tossa?
Getting closer, only 30 feet...
MAN
(American, confused)
Uhhh... sure. I'm a tossa... uhhhh.
10 feet...
KEMP
Let me show you something, tossa.
4 feet -- Kemp gestures for Zaz and Cade to get cover --
SUDDENLY -- Kemp pounces like a lion -- four quick thrusts to
the groin -- severs femoral artery -- a barrage of kidney
shivs -- renal artery opened -- BLOOD. This dude is primal.
All with a three-inch plastic blade. Absurd stuff.
Gently takes the dying man to the ground.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Well... looks like your days of
tossin' are over.
Kemp takes the man's gun. Shots come in from both sides. A
man pokes his head out from behind a pillar -- Kemp clocks
him -- shoots him dead -- he looks like he could be chewing
gum while getting that impossible shot off.
CADE
One more I think. Over there. Want
me to draw him out?
KEMP
Sure, these guys are shit shots.
Cade books it for the next row of cars. The man takes the
bait, steps out to fire, and -- BANG -- Kemp beats him to it.
KEMP (CONT’D)
(to the dying man)
Who the fuck are you? Not CIA,
that's for sure.
Kemp takes off his sunglasses and ball cap. The man looks
strange -- pasty white, bald, and his eyes glow green.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Why find the drug dealer? To draw
us out? Better ways to do it.
MAN
No... You know why. Two birds, one
stone...
Kemp doesn't understand.
KEMP
What?... Who is your boss?
MAN
ENLIL sends his condolences.
He smiles and dies.
ZAZ
What did he say?
KEMP
Nothing. Just nonsense is all.
ZAZ
He said Enlil, didn't he? Bwcibo...
KEMP
He's half-soaked, Zaz. Probably
some cult worshipping him. He
always had more power in death than
in life.
ZAZ
You are right, but hearing his
name...
Zaz is emotional about this.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
Ok. Focus time. Fuck him, dead
fucka. Spit on his grave, I did.
Something grabs Zaz's attention.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
What do we have here?
Zaz inspects the dead man's handgun. Not a normal gun --
oversized, with weird tech on the barrel.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
A fuckin Umbra Buster, it is. Dirty
pool... coc oens.
Cade checks the two other dead guys and takes their guns. All
have the same face and green eyes.
ZAZ (CONT’D)
So, what the fuck are these things?
They're not human.
CADE
Unless somebody had creepy
triplets. They all identical.
ZAZ
They are a science project.
Somebody is fuckin' with DNA again.
Clones... Didn't end well for us
last time now, did it?
Kemp has been thinking -- he realizes something important.
KEMP
Two birds, one stone he said. Fuck,
it's him.
(MORE)
KEMP (CONT’D)
The drug dealer, John -- it's him.
We need to get to his house.
They jump in the CARAVAN and speed off.
INSIDE Kemp drives. Cade and Zaz are in the back going
through a trunk full of guns.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Did they miss anything? Wasn't
cheap getting it delivered like
this.
CADE
Looks good to me. More than enough
to take out those weasels.
KEMP
Definitely amateur hour out there.
Somebody is running a play, and we
be impeding their goal. They want
us off the field. Him too. Zaz, can
you get John's number -- get him on
the phone.
ZAZ
Give me a sec.
KEMP
Fucking Umbra Busters... Jesus,
haven't seen one in a long time.
Cade takes a round out of the obnoxiously bulky Umbra-Buster.
CADE
The nano is delivered on the
bullet, see? Filthy shites.
The tip of the bullet glows blue.
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Mystery"]
Ratings
Scene
12 -
A Call from the Abyss
INT. BILL'S OLD LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Everything is burned. The ceiling and a wall are gone.
Rotting wood rides on the wind.
JOHN
Are you ready, John? It's as good a
time as any. Maybe you want to go.
Maybe you're stuck in some tiny
compartment of our mind. You might
welcome death.
John takes out a 9mm from his waist.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Truth is John, I have to get out of
this body and it's easier on you if
I do it this way. Sorry, old
friend.
John moves the gun to his head -- THEN -- RING-- from his
pocket. He pulls out his phone.
JOHN (CONT’D)
Fucking now, Jesus.
He answers.
ZAZ (O.C.)
Is this John Jones? Very important
message for John.
JOHN
This is John.
--NOW-- INSIDE THE CARAVAN
Zaz in the front passenger seat, next to Kemp.
ZAZ
It's Zaz, John. I am here with Cade
and his dad.
JOHN (O.C.)
Ohhh. Somebody finally found me...
What do you want?
ZAZ
We were hired to find you. But it
was a ruse to get us all together
and remove us from the board.
Somebody is making a play.
JOHN (O.C.)
You don’t say “making a play Zaz”
That's something he would say Zaz.
Are you copying what he said? Put
him on the phone.
Zaz tries to hand the phone to Kemp. Kemp refuses. Zaz gives
a "please" look. Kemp growls and turns away.
ZAZ
He is ah... driving right now,
can't talk. He is all about safety
these days. "Safety first" he says.
Always safety, safety, safety.
JOHN (O.C.)
Bullshit. Tell him he is a coward.
Might get his attention.
Zaz's face goes limp.
ZAZ
I do not feel like getting my bell
rung at the present, thank you.
Kemp can hear. Grabs the phone.
KEMP
Coward? Me a coward? Funny cause I
never ran away. You did.
JOHN (O.C.)
I had no--
Kemp cuts him off.
KEMP
No time for this. You're burned,
John.
Zaz chimes in. Talks loud so John can hear.
ZAZ
We met these lovely clones of
death.
Cade from the back yells --
CADE
Creepy as fuck clones. They look
like Powder.
ZAZ
What's Powder?
CADE
Powder. The movie with Sean Patrick
Flanery. It's good.
ZAZ
Never seen the film.
John can hear -- responds loud.
JOHN (O.C.)
Powder is a shit movie, Zaz.
ZAZ
I do like Mr. Flanery in Boondock
Saints, I would have to say.
Both passionate.
JOHN (O.C.) CADE
Fuck yes. Now, that is a Ace film. No doubt about it.
movie.
Kemp gets frustrated.
KEMP
(pissed, sarcastic)
Let me put this fucking thing on
speaker so we can all chat about
films. Fuck!
(deep breath)
Listen. They know where you live. I
give you an hour at most. We are on
our way.
(pause)
Oh, and they have Umbra Busters.
John, alone, in the OLD LIVING ROOM.
JOHN
Oh, I see. Well try not to get
shot. See you soon, brother.
Hangs up.
John takes one last look and leaves.
JOHN (CONT’D)
(to himself)
Sorry, John. It will have to wait.
FADE TO:
Genres:
["Action","Thriller","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
13 -
The Final Stand
INT. JOHN’S LIVING ROOM
John runs by the pictures.
Closer on pictures. The friend -- the one with John in
Europe -- it's Dave, no shit. They are maybe 25, but it's
Dave for sure.
John enters the SECRET ROOM -- dials up French. She appears
on screen. Sounds chaotic. Behind her a chimp in a weird
chair with wires or something on its head.
Shaky -- She straightens camera.
FRENCH
What's up?
JOHN
Go to P2P and encrypt.
She nods.
FRENCH
Done. What is going on?
JOHN
Not much time. I have been located.
They are coming for me. Enlil wants
nothing in his way. That would be
us.
FRENCH
Shit. Ok. Am I burned?
JOHN
Not possible. That place is a
fortress. I have more outgoing
encryption from there than the
blockchain has on bitcoin. You are
fine.
FRENCH
Good. Ok. Now what?
JOHN
Have it ready. I may be there soon.
FRENCH
(a bit nervous)
Ok. You can count on me. I will be
waiting for you. Or the kid or...
you know what I mean.
He ends the call and starts tearing shit apart. Motherboards -
- CRUNCH -- under his heel. RAM chips pulverized. Hard drives
nuked in the microwave.
He exposes another hidey-hole -- a safe. Inside: a PHONE, USB
DRIVE, .45, FOLDED PLASTIC SOMETHING, and a SHINY BLACK
PEBBLE.
Takes the gun, phone, weird pebble, plastic thing. Transfers
crypto off the phone. Dumps personal effects into the safe.
Places the PEBBLE on his palm -- it hovers an inch above his
hand, lights up blue. Plucks it from mid-air, drops it in the
safe, closes the door.
3 seconds later -- a deafening THRUMMMM from inside the safe.
3 seconds more -- BAMMMM from the front door.
At the ENTRANCE -- the front door lays on the ground, kicked
off its hinges.
Boots on the door. Four COMMANDOS dressed in all black enter,
AR-15s at the ready.
CLONE COMMANDO
ENKI, come out. Hands in the air.
JOHN/ENKI
I am back here, assholes. And fuck
you, I am not coming out.
CLONE COMMANDO
Come out. We aren't here to hurt
you.
JOHN/ENKI
Bullshit. Tell me why you are here
and I might come out.
CLONE COMMANDO
To show you the way off this
planet. The way home.
JOHN/ENKI
It's been 100,000 years since I
have been home, clone. Nothing
there for me. Nothing there for
Enlil either. He is insane.
CLONE COMMANDO
Enlil has been reborn. He is
Ambrose the Divine now.
JOHN/ENKI
So you are telling me he is batshit
crazy. Message received.
CLONE COMMANDO
You are wrong. He is not insane.
Ambrose's wormhole will take you
back home at the proper time.
JOHN/ENKI
You realize we discussed this
option 500 years ago. First, it's
impossible without destroying Earth
and second, we need Utu. Don't know
about you but I have not heard from
the guy in a while. Meaning 18,000
years.
CLONE COMMANDO
The Earth is lost. The experiment
failed. The humans will annihilate
themselves anyway. Why not hasten
things?
JOHN/ENKI
You definitely are a clone. It's
like you are reading off a fucking
teleprompter. Do you have scripts
or some kind of "Cult of Ambrose"
brochures in your pockets?
Enki grabs the plastic thing and shakes it out -- a weird
transparent poncho. Puts it on.
JOHN/ENKI (CONT’D)
Tell Enlil he can go fuck himself.
Write that down.
CLONE COMMANDO
He will free you. All of you.
JOHN/ENKI
What will he do with you? I will
tell you. Boil you down for clone
feed is what.
BANG -- BANG -- Kemp and company enter -- guns blazing --
commando down.
John comes out and joins Kemp -- they go back to back,
covering both sides. John clocks a commando hiding behind the
wall. Shoots through the wall -- perfect shot -- commando
slumps over dead.
KEMP
Just like old times, brother.
JOHN/ENKI
Jesus, you got tall.
KEMP
You got a little fat.
They chuckle -- taking fire.
KEMP (CONT’D)
Expecting rain? What's the
ridiculous fucking... plastic thing
you have on?
JOHN/ENKI
SABA goes by French now. She
designed it. It's an Umbra-Buster-
Proof-Vest.
KEMP
No shit. Saba is brilliant. But not
good with names. That's a terrible
name. It's not even a vest. It's
like a cheap poncho you buy on a
rainy day. And saying it... that's
a lot of syllables, brother. Umbra
vest, be the logical choice.
ZAZ
It's like a garbage bag, Enki. You
are wearing a garbage bag...
CADE
I think it looks like something you
might wear to an EDM concert. Clear
shirts are in, you know? Ladies
love a man who says, "I'm topless.
But am I really?" It's fuckin
mysterious is all.
Enki smiles and nods -- gives a flanking gesture and goes
around the hallway. Kemp and Cade move in and turn the
corner.
O.C. -- BANG -- BANG -- BANG-BANG
Around the corner, the commandos lay dead. But Enki is gut
shot -- bleeding out.
KEMP
What the fuck, Enki? The poncho
isn't bulletproof. Yampy fucka. You
are supposed to wear a bulletproof
one under. Let's get you to a
hospital.
JOHN/ENKI
(to Kemp)
No. Isn't part of the plan,
NINURTA.
KEMP/NINURTA
You and your fucking plans... So
what? Your plan is to die right
here on the bloody floor? Is that
it?
JOHN/ENKI
Well not on the floor. Was going to
do it myself out in the middle of
nowhere, then you guys call and
once again, I have to save your
asses.
He laughs then grimaces in pain.
JOHN/ENKI (CONT’D)
Not much time. Listen. Go to Big
City Pawn Shop. Couple of hours. Be
there. Got it? You are going to
like this one, big brother. I have
so much to show you...
John/Enki closes his eyes and drifts off -- SUDDENLY -- his
green Umbra exits the body -- hovers by Kemp/Ninurta for a
moment -- then darts up through the ceiling.
END ACT FOUR
ACT FIVE
Genres:
["Action","Sci-Fi","Thriller"]
Ratings
Scene
14 -
Divine Madness in the Bunker
INT. UNDERGROUND BUNKER
A dark cavernous bunker. AMBROSE SAMAD (40s, British-Indian).
Thin, muscular. Long thick lashes give a natural mascara
sinister look.
He lays on a leather couch staring at his phone.
AMBROSE
(RP British accent, to
someone O.C.)
Bollocks!! This fucking game is
killing me. You jump -- your fuckin
head gets chopped off in the
helicopter blade -- you duck and
the fuckin salami slicer thing goes
right through your undercarriage.
It's eeevil.
WIDER -- a huge room. On the rock walls: 20-foot-long white
consoles, holographic interfaces, future tech.
A tunnel about 50 feet in diameter extends 100 feet into the
rock face. Inside: a huge cylindrical reactor.
At a console sits ALANNA (30s). Dark hair, fierce black eyes.
Beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
ALANNA
(uninterested)
When will this be operational?
Ambrose jumps up. Excited.
AMBROSE
See, I knew it, my love. This would
earn your interest. Bring you back
to me where you belong.
She rolls her eyes.
ALANNA
Enlil, I asked a question.
AMBROSE
I am Ambrose the Divine now. Got to
keep up appearances and all.
Alanna cracks up. A big belly laugh.
ALANNA
You are eating this up, aren't you.
Your clones worship you, call you
divine. You've gone mad.
AMBROSE
Maybe, maybe not. But if I open the
rift it would be godlike. The
judgment, the wrath of a planet
turned to dust and a mass exodus
all in one day's work. If that is
not the work of divinity then I
don't know what is.
ALANNA
Does it work?
AMBROSE
I am missing one thing and you know
what it is. But a little birdy told
me that what once was lost will
soon be found.
Alanna looks concerned.
ALANNA
(quiet)
You found Utu?
Ambrose laughs like a crazy person. A flickering light behind
him. Easing in to locate the source.
Around a corner: a labyrinth of tunnels. The light leads
to...
An UNDERGROUND GENETICS LAB. Genome maps on screens,
incubation pods, "CLONING GENOMICS" everywhere.
On the back wall: a line of five incubators with glass
viewports. Three clones of Ambrose. One is a perfect human
with gold skin and green eyes -- a NAKI. The last: a clone of
Kemp. All lifeless, awaiting animation. To the right, a
massive storage area with hundreds more occupied pods.
FADE TO:
A DIFFERENT LAB SOMEWHERE ELSE
Windows provide a view of a snowy mountain landscape. To the
left is a similar styled incubator. Easing in on the
viewport... IT'S JOHN... awaiting animation.
French is at a console -- brain waves and PET scan images on
the display.
Beside her: a small snow globe-looking thing. Inside -- one
tiny POLKA-DOT-OF-DEATH. Bouncing. Up... down... left...
right...
Genres:
["Sci-Fi","Thriller","Action"]
Ratings
Scene
15 -
Awakening of the Umbra
EXT. HOSPITAL - DAY
An Umbra floats 100 feet off the ground and moves toward a
hospital.
It darts toward a patient's window and passes through.
INSIDE THE HOSPITAL ROOM is a sick, unconscious young man,
JACK SPENCER (18), lying in a hospital bed. Clearly dying.
The room is full of flowers and cards. Popular kid. Tacked to
the wall above his bed are maybe 20 pictures of him playing
baseball.
In one picture, Jack wears a COLORADO ROCKIES UNIFORM,
smiling like he won the lottery. Caption: "2024 MLB DRAFT -
JACK SPENCER, SS - 1ST ROUND - PICK #1 BY THE COLORADO
ROCKIES." Under the caption, Jack's signature. Dated June
2026 -- only ten months ago.
Jack opens his eyes to see the Umbra above him -- HUMMING. He
reaches up to touch it -- it enters him. A green aura, then
it fades.
Dark circles disappear. Color returns. He sits up -- eyes
glowing green for a moment, then clear. He looks like the kid
in the pictures again.
ENKI
(voice in Jack's head)
Hello Jack.
JACK
(out loud, to the voice)
Hello.
ENKI
(in Jack's head)
Don't be afraid, Jack.
JACK
Are you talking inside my head?
What is happening?
ENKI
(in Jack's head)
My name is Enki.
(MORE)
ENKI (CONT’D)
I mean you no harm. I cured your
cancer. Hold on -- am I not
talking?
Jack's body contorts.
ENKI (CONT’D)
(now out loud)
That's better. Strange little
glitch is all.
Body contorts less.
JACK
(still out loud)
Glitch? What does that even mean?
What is happening? I am dead, huh?
This is like the afterdeath place.
Quick neck spasm.
Now they both have the hang of speaking out loud.
ENKI
You mean the afterlife.
JACK
Ya, that. Hang on. Am I having a
conversation with myself right now?
Is this some kind of God test? To
see if I go to heaven? Look, I
cheated on Stacey just that one
time. And I tried steroids once and
hated it. I admit it all. Now let's
go up there.
ENKI
I am sure you are a penitent man.
But you are not dead, so it's all
irrelevant.
JACK
HUH?
ENKI
You are a good kid and you are not
dead.
JACK
OHHH. Got it now.
Jack is overwhelmed. He touches his temples - migraine
JACK (CONT’D)
I can see your... memories... How
fucking old are you? Jesus Christ,
like literally... Jesus. What are
you? A god?
ENKI
Interesting... This is a first.
(fascinated)
Three questions, ok. Well... old,
very old. It's complicated. And I
have been called a god, yes. Good
enough?
JACK
No, it's not. Like, are you staying
for a while? When do I get my body
back?
ENKI
If all goes to plan, soon. ANd I
get mine back too. Jack, I have so
much to show you, but for now,
relax, let me take the wheel.
WE ARE HEADED TO THE PAWN SHOP.
WIDE NOW
JACK
This has to be a dream. Fucking
what you gotta hock all your God
shit? Dude. Makes no sense bro.
ENKI
Makes perfect sense bro, but no. No
hocking stuff.
This is quite the sight. One person arguing with himself.
Neck spasm. The room begins to fade slowly.
JACK
Are you trying to push me out. I
felt that
ENKI
Ya cause you won’t shut up. Just
trust me ok. everything will be
fine, I will leave your body soon.
END ACT FIVE
TAG
Genres:
["Science Fiction","Fantasy","Drama"]
Ratings
Scene
16 -
Awakening on the Dark Side
EXT. SPACE
The Moon approaches. Fast orbit around to its dark side --
which is not dark. NOW -- toward the surface. Artificial
structures. Some kind of base or station.
CLOSER -- a POWER STATION. 30 or so huge thin solar-panel
structures. Hundreds of poles with massive concave mirrors
reflect light onto the panels.
Follow 3-foot-diameter wires to a moon-dust-caked hatch.
Through the hatch and INTO THE MOON.
A moment to process what is here please. Fuck.... ummm...
An Archimedean solid -- a truncated icosidodecahedron.
Translucent silver squares, hexagons, and decagons elegantly
fit together to form an exquisite shell. Light glints off its
glassy surfaces.
INSIDE - landscapes from a Yosemite postcard the squares and
hexagons. The decagons serve as viewports. It is an
ARBORETUM. Elegant geometry meets Eden.
ABOVE -- GRASSY PLAINS -- WHOOSH -- a 180 degree turn on
ascension --THEN-- onto the plain -- Artificial gravity.
NOW -- Grasslands above, forest below, mountains to one side,
ocean to the other. Thousands of square miles.
Horses. Long-legged horses with elongated muzzles charge by.
Wild tall mustangs. This is Eden. Untouched.
An object in the distance -- CLOSER -- it hovers a meter off
the ground -- It’s Big, green, and 5 meters tall. IT BEATS,
LIKE A HEART. IT IS ALIVE.
Close on the fleshy surface -- POP -- 2 green hands punch
through, grab and tear.
UTU (M, alien), a green muscular humanoid with cartilaginous
spikes for hair emerges -- Amniotic goo oozes down his green
skin. His eyes glow yellow.
He walks with purpose -- A hatch -- he enters A bright-white
futuristic SUBTERRANEAN CORRIDOR.
The alien enters a small CONTROL ROOM and sits at a lone
white console. The screen flashes: "49000563 INCOMING
MESSAGES."
The alien sighs, his human-like expressions show anxiety. He
activates audio.
VOICES
Utu, are you there... Utu, it's
been 4000 years... We need you
Utu... Utu help... Utu... Utu...
now 18,000 years... Utu... Utu...
Everything goes black. Echoes of "Utu... Utu... help us"
linger.
Short pause on black --THEN--
JOHN/ENKI (V.O.)
Utu, it's Enki. If I did my math
right you should be getting up
soon. I sent my communication
satellite coordinates. Speak to no
one. We need to get you caught up,
my old friend.
END PILOT