GROSSE POINTE BLANK
First Draft: Tom Jankiewicz
Revised Draft: D.V. deVincentis & S.K.
Boatman & John Cusack
NEW CRIME PRODUCTIONS Registered WGA
--address deleted
--for privacy
--phone deleted
May 4, 1994
FADE IN:
ROLL CREDITS OVER:
EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAWN
VARIOUS EXTRA CLOSE-UPS of this luxurious
patchwork of brilliant greens:
A POLISHED BRASS SPRINKLER HEAD
pops up from the ground and begins to
water the already dew-soaked lawn.
A FLEET OF DUCKLINGS
No mother in sight, cruise through the
thrushes.
GRAVEYARD OF GOLF BALLS, UNDERWATER
At the bottom of a water hazard.
PALM FRONDS
After a neat they sway, revealing the
barren desert that surrounds the
artificial oasis. The sun already bakes
the air. We hear the opening guitar
strains of the Kim Deal-Kurt Cobain suet
of "WHAT I DID FOR LOVE," as we CRANE
DOWN the palms to
A BRAND-NEW TITLEIST 3 BALL.
Just on the edge of the rough. A pair of
yellow trousers moves in. An iron
confidently addresses the ball, and chips
it out. The trousers walk out after
it.
HANDS
Digging dirt out of the grooves of the
iron's face with a golf tee, while on the
way to the green. Both hands are gloved,
instead of one, and the gloves are
black.
YELLOW TROUSERS
In a squat over the ball, sizing up the
curvy, fifty-foot journey to the hole.
The figure positions himself and the
putter above the ball, then pops the ball
lightly. The ball rolls and bobs with
purpose toward the hole, dodging hazards
and finding lanes, until it finally falls
off of the green and into the hole.
THE GLOVED HAND
Sets the ball on the next tee. The figure
moves to a leather golf bag. The hands
pull the wipe rag off of the top of the
bag and drop it on the ground, reach
into the bag, drawing out a compact
SNIPER RIFLE, affixed with a long
silencer.
The figure drops one knee down onto the
rag, the other foot firmly setting its
spikes. We move the figure to see the
face of the sniper, concentrating down
the
scope in his half-squat. He is MARTIN
BLANK.
We SWING AROUND behind his head to look
down the barrel with him. Four-hundred
yards away, on another part of the
course, another green is barely visible
through groves of trees and rough. Three
miniscule, SILVER-HAIRED FIGURES come
into view. One of them, in a RED SWEATER
sets up for first putt. He could be an
investment banker, or an arms trader.
MARTIN'S ARM
Flinches, and a low THUNK reports from
the rifle. A second later in the
distance, the
RED SWEATER'S HEAD
Seems to vanish from his shoulders into a
crimson mist. His body crumples to the
green.
MARTIN
Returns the rifle to the bag, pulls out a
driver, moves to the tee and whacks
the ball. He watches its path and
whispers absently…
MARTIN
Hooked it.
INT. CLUB HOUSE PATIO - LATER
The outdoor post-golf luncheon area of an
elite Texas golf club. Martin sits in
on the fringes of a conversation between
a group of executive types. CLUB MEMBER
#1 has a Buddha-like peace in his eyes
through the philosophical talk.
CLUB MEMBER #1
I'd come to the realization that
everything I'd based my life on was
false. And
that my life had no meaning.
CLUB MEMBER #2
(to Martin)
He gets this way when he hits over
eighty-five.
CLUB MEMBER #1
It seemed like my life was slipping away,
somehow. I was a knot in the middle of
a wet rope. Everything was futile and
nothing had value.
CLUB MEMBER #3
That's the way life is. The only meaning
and value is what we create. Through
structure, and discipline. Though they
seem to limit our freedom, they actually
give us great comfort. Your problem is
you're looking for some great answer.
Some ultimate truth. When what you really
should do is go to work and go home.
CLUB MEMBER #2
And take golf lessons.
CLUB MEMBER #1
That's a tragedy. Can I finish my story
please? I began my search for meaning. I
was a Catholic, Jew, Scientologist, Sufi,
Buddhist. I went to a Psychologist,
psychiatrist, herbalist, nutritionist, a
shaman, and a psychic. And they all
pretty much say the same stuff.
CLUB MEMBER #2
A Jew, a shaman, and a herbalist are
telling you the same thing? You're
insane.
CLUB MEMBER #1
Basically the same thing. In a very
evolved, esoteric way.
CLUB MEMBER #2
Insane.
CLUB MEMBER #1
To make a long story short…
CLUB MEMBER #3
--Thank God--
CLUB MEMBER #1
…at last I found the holistic system of
systems that opened up the doors of
heaven for me right here on earth. And
everyday I see the world through the eyes
of a child. A world of creation and
wonder.
CLUB MEMBER #2
Jesus…
CLUB MEMBER #1
Overflowing with love.
MARTIN
Tell me about it.
Club Member #1 turns to Martin.
CLUB MEMBER #1
P.P.P. Personal Pan Power. All the
secrets of your universe are divided up
into
eight easily digestible slices.
Club Member #1 pulls a laminated card
from his wallet and hands it over to
Martin. In the distance, sirens begin to
wail.
CLUB MEMBER #1
See, see. It's in the accessible and
everyday shape of a pan pizza. Each day
you
have a little slice of peace...
INSERT - WALLET-SIZE P.P.P. CARD
A pizza-shaped diagram showing six
"sections".
MARTIN
Oh I see. You got your individual slices
of hope, dignity, confidence,
self-love, justice, and harmony.
CLUB MEMBER #1
You open 'em up and there's the sayings,
stories, little bites of insight. It's
the P.P.P. Six Day Week.
MARTIN
So you eat-- read it everyday?
CLUB MEMBER #1
Yes.
MARTIN
And these pan pizzas have opened up the
doors to heaven?
CLUB MEMBER #1
Correct.
(re: the card)
That's for you. Keep it.
Sirens are getting louder, closer to the
club.
EXT. COUNTRY CLUB - DAY
The source of the sirens are almost upon
us. Martin walks toward his rented Town
Car as the VALET pulls it up. He meets
the Valet by the trunk, where he trades
tip for keys.
MARTIN AT CAR
He fishes out the laminated "Personal Pan
Power" card, looks at it, and tosses
it onto the ground. Police cars, now
visible in the distance, wind into the
long
club driveway. Martin gets into his car
and pulls away.
LAMINATED CARD
As it lays on the asphalt. The wheel of a
police car rolls to a stop on it.
INT. AIRLINER - DAY
Martin sits in a first class seat, the
tray table flipped down. On the left side
of the tray is a stack of magazines of
all kinds - Sports Illustrated,
Mademoiselle, Wired, Rolling Stone,
National Review, Spin, National
Geographic,
and on. He draws one off the top, and
flips through it, impassively taking in
images and reading nothing. When he is
done with one, he discards it into the
empty seat next to him and draws another-
- Martin's way of instantly and
massively uploading the world around him:
Toothless hockey player in triumph, Sony
product parade, crouched starving child
with vulture in the background,
supermodel in suede, Tic Tacs, living
former
Presidents, arm in arm, smiling, etc.
INT. HIRED CAR, NEW YORK - DAY
The livery weaves out of the arrival
lanes at Kennedy airport. Martin reclines
in the back seat, a conversation having
already begun.
DRIVER
How was your day, today, sir?
MARTIN
Effective. But to tell you the truth,
I've lost my passion for work.
DRIVER
Do you like the people you work with?
MARTIN
I work alone.
DRIVER
That's it then. That's it. I've always
been alone. That's why I'm a good driver.
I can handle it. See, I can think on my
feet. I survive, I'm a thinker. And I
can sit there in front of your house for
two hours and it don't bother me. Some
people can't do it! Some people are
ranting and raving, "Tell them fuckin'
people to get out here and get in this
car, I can't-- I want a go!" Where you
gonna go? You're gonna wind up back in
your garage at seven o'clock at night.
You ain't going nowhere. You leave your
house in the morning you get back to
your house in the evening. What's the big
deal, right?
MARTIN
You understand the psychology of the job.
DRIVER
I do. Some guys can't adjust to it; they
can't handle it.
INT. CAR - MANHATTAN STREETS - LATER
The car cuts through the upper east side.
Martin and the Driver exchange looks
through the rear-view mirror.
DRIVER
You look like you're far away. Far away
and thinking about other things. I'm
right about that, aren't I?
MARTIN
No.
DRIVER
Well, let's just say that sometimes I'm
right. Sometimes you are.
MARTIN
Sometimes I am. Sometimes. It's only
natural.
DRIVER
(laughs to himself at this great truth)
It's only natural....
The Driver pauses for dramatic emphasis
DRIVER
I been looking at you, and I've decided
that I want to share something with you.
MARTIN
Okay.
DRIVER
Because your problem is you're bored. And
you have a very big mind.
(beat)
I am part of what I call a brain
syndicate.
No reaction from Martin.
DRIVER
I am part of a network of minds, a group
of five people who are all connected,
over hundreds, even thousands of miles,
through the mind. We can think with each
other, think for each other. I can be
driving somewhere, sleeping with a woman-
-
whatever it is-- and at the same time be
thinking a thought in someone else's
mind, far away. Running someone else's
brain.
MARTIN
(indicates)
Up on the right.
DRIVER
And when you think of it, it's not so
surprising that a small group of people
control the whole world, is it?
INT. HOTEL ROOM, NEW YORK CITY - DAY
A sedate and well-appointed four-star
suite on the Upper East Side. Martin
stands in front of one of the open
windows watching the canopied entrance of
an
elegant high-rise across the street. He
lifts an eye rinse cup to his eye and
tilts it back. A cellular phone RINGS,
interrupting him. He moves to the desk
and draws one of three phones from his
briefcase, depresses a scrambler module,
flips it open, and listens for a moment.
MARTIN
If it's not there, I can't proceed. Tell
them.
Martin hangs up. Picks up another phone
and dials. As he waits for an answer, he
goes to a Fed Ex blueprint tube lying on
the bed.
MARTIN
Tom. I've been waiting for an answer. I'm
only in town tonight.
He breaks the shipping seal and pulls out
a series of finished metal parts
including a long thin barrel, a scope,
and a silencer.
MARTIN
What's different this time than the last
time? I have to be down front...
INT. HOTEL ROOM - SAME
Martin stands in front of the window,
phone in one hand, the scope in the
other.
Next to him, the assembled rifle rests
across the arm of a chair.
MARTIN
...I don't bother to call anyone else
because you always take care of me.
He glances over to a second window to his
left, which offers a view further down
the street. He goes to it. He raises the
scope and sees
MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE- WINDOW #2
A few blocks down, small even through the
high-powered scope, is your average
BICYCLE MESSENGER dressed in lycra racing
gear, weaving through traffic toward
us. Slung low across his right hip is a
black canvas bag. The Messenger's hand
is hidden in it. The other phone begins
to RING.
MARTIN
MARTIN
Hold on a second, Tom. I got my hands
full here.
He sets down the phone and answers the
other, still watching the messenger.
MARTIN
Good. Account number 3649367, transfer to
account number 96-546-38739-47825. Ask
for Mr. Sanchez, tell him it's Mr.
Duckman. If there are any problems,
access
file 673594638-IO-98, and look at it.
Martin drops the phone and moves away
from Window #2 to the rifle. He mounts
the
scope and he looks out Window #1 at the
high-rise.
MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE - WINDOW #1
Of a DOORMAN opening the door for a group
of five men in suits. Four BODYGUARDS
form a perimeter around the fifth man, a
mall, avuncular figure in his forties
dressed in Saville Row finery.
MARTIN
Takes a step back into the shadows of the
room, and raises the rifle toward
Window #2.
MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE - WINDOW #2
of an empty street. The bicycle messenger
flashes past.
MARTIN
concentrating, tracks the path of the
Messenger, leading him left to right
across the blind spot of the hotel room
wall between Window #2 and Window #1.
STREET
the bicycle Messenger bears down on the
group of men, drawing a Mac-10
submachine gun from his bag. The group
see him-- just as Martin's sniper FIRE
explodes the Messenger's chest. Two of
the Bodyguards collapse onto their boss.
The other two open fire on the Messenger
as he wipes out horribly into a parked
car in front of them.
MARTIN
withdraws from the window, and picks up
the phone again and begins to break down
the rifle.
MARTIN
Sorry Tom. But look, I know it's the
playoffs. That's why I'm offering a
thousand dollars for one seat...
Martin listens patiently as he works.
EXT. STREET - SAME - INTERCUT
DOORMAN'S HANDS
unbuttoning his double-breasted long
coat.
MARTIN
just finishes packing.
MARTIN
...Well let me ask you, Tom. What do I
have to do to get courtside tickets for
the Knicks...?
STREET
The two bodyguards kick at the
Messenger's body. The other two begin to
move off
of their boss, who rises cowering. The
Doorman stands behind it all, unbuttoning
his coat.
DOORMAN
a tall, dark, sharp-featured man in his
forties, wearing a handlebar moustache.
He moves toward the group of men as he
flips open his coat back over two huge
chrome .44 Magnum Charthouse Bulldog
revolvers and OPENS FIRE on them.
MARTIN
is closing his bag when he hears the gun-
thunder.
MARTIN
Never mind. I gotta go.
Martin drops the phone, grabs his scope,
and spins to the window.
MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE
of the Doorman kicking through the pile
of dead bodyguards. He gets to the man
at the bottom-- their boss. The Doorman
FIRES both guns.
MARTIN
reacts, surprised to see a second
shooter. He pulls himself from the
window,
puts away his scope, and accelerates his
exit.
HIGH-RISE FOYER
Outside, we see the doorman drop both
guns on the pile of bodies. He walks back
toward us through the glass doors and
makes his way through the building toward
the service exit. He sheds his uniform
and stuffs it into a plastic bag.
MARTIN
his two parcels in hand, exits out the
side door of the hotel and walks down the
street.
DOORMAN
now wearing rich man's sweats, hops off
the loading dock, walks to a Lincoln
Town Car, and drives off.
INT. MARTIN'S AND GROCERS CARS - DAY
Martin rolls down FDR Drive in a Lincoln
Town Car once again on the cellular.
MARTIN
...Tell them that's not my problem. I was
paid for one job-- the cyclist-- not
two. See you tomorrow, Marcella.
MARCELLA
Wait. I have Mr. Grocer for you.
MARTIN
Patch him through....
Martin notices another Town Car appears
in the next lane. We recognize the
Doorman behind the wheel, phone in hand.
He is GROCER.
MARTIN
What do you want?
GROCER
I'm setting up a concern that would
enable those of us in our rarefied
profession to consolidate our efforts.
MARTIN
Like a union?
GROCER
Like a club. Work less, make more.
MARTIN
Thank you, no.
GROCER
We could be working together, making big
money, killing important people.... I'm
willing to let you in on the ground
floor.
MARTIN
And you could be... sort of like... a
father figure to me....
Grocer ignores this.
GROCER
It's a free-market evolution. You'll wake
up to it... c'mon Kid. We used to run
together when you were a rookie. I don't
want to run against you. This thing's
real. Everybody's in.
MARTIN
Not me. So don't paw at me with your
dirty little guild.
GROCER
I'm gonna get you, kid.
Martin hangs up and pulls away.
INT. AIRLINER - DAY
Martin sits in first class, wiping his
face and hands with an airline hot towel.
He folds the wet cloth and once again
speeds through the images from a thick
stack of magazines. He looks up as he
hears
PILOT V.O.
It's seventy-six degrees and partly
cloudy in Chicago this afternoon...
INT. APARTMENT, CHICAGO - NIGHT
Martin walks into a sparsely furnished
apartment. He wearily drops his carry-on
bag and briefcase in the hall.
INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
Martin sits on a futon couch watching MTV
with no sound. On the coffee table in
front of him is a phalanx of vitamin
bottles. Martin takes some capsules from
each and washes them down with a reddish-
orange beverage.
INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
Martin lies on his back on the hardwood
floor. His eyes are closed and he wears
a set of headphones as he absently taps
his chest.
WOMAN V.O.
"Dear Alumni: Can you believe it's been
ten years? Where are you now...?
After a moment, his eyes open, alerted.
His head turns to the side, and his
hands lightly cup the headphones.
CLOSE-UP: WIRE
from the headphones as it winds to a
small metal box, with one unmarked switch
and one amber light- definitely not a
walkman. The wire continues out of the
other side of the box, across the floor,
connecting to a suction cup stuck to
the floor.
WOMAN V.O.
...Are you guiding an Outward Bound canoe
trip like Brook Stinson? Or perhaps in
charge of appearances for the NFL like
Leslie Gunther....?
MARTIN - A MINUTE LATER
draws a pre-cut section of the floor, the
width of a pencil and twice as long,
by a string.
VIDEO MONITOR - A MIUNTE LATER
The greenish Starlight (night vision)
image of a young, HUSKY MAN sleeping on
his back, as seen from above. A fine
thread snakes from behind CAMERA to just
above the man's slack mouth. We PULL BACK
to reveal a Sony Watchman that holds
the IMAGE. KEEP PULLING to reveal Martin
watching it as he maneuvers the thread
down past the fiber-optic cable through
the hole in the floor.
MARTIN - A MINUTE LATER
concentrates as he applies three drops of
blue liquid on the thread. As the
drops run down along the thread through
the floor, his attention shifts to the
VIDEO MONITOR
The drops, huge in the foreground, become
smaller as they make their way down
the line toward the sleeping man.
WOMAN V.O.
...Could it be that you're like Chip
Longfellow, at the trade-relations tank
in
Washington. Sandy Glasser owns a cheese
shop...!
MARTIN
adjusts the thread minutely with one
hand, and lowers the fiber-optic cable
with
the other.
VIDEO MONITOR
The face begins to fill the screen as the
fiber-optic follows the drops toward
it. Suddenly, the man snorts and turns
his face...
A DROP FALLS
It misses the man's mouth and hit's his
cheek.
VIDEO MONITOR
The man's eyes snap open in terror as he
looks directly into CAMERA. His image
falls away as the fiber-optic is jerked
back up through the hole in the floor.
WOMAN V.O.
...Looking at yearbooks and pictures
evokes so many memories...!
MARTIN V.O.
(hushed)
Fuck!
MARTIN
stuffs the apparati into an open duffel
bag, and flies out of frame.
WOMAN V.O.
...Some good. Some bad. But all
interesting...
INT. HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER
A BODYGUARD sits outside an apartment
door. A muffled but dire scream is heard
from within and he is on his feet, gun in
hand. An exit door in the hallway
slams open revealing Martin, his gun
already pointed at the Bodyguard. The
Bodyguard levels his at Martin.
MARTIN
Freeze! Police!
The Bodyguard hesitates just long enough
to get double-tapped through the head.
WOMAN V.O.
...As a graduate of the class of 1984,
you are someone special...
Martin moves to the dead Bodyguard, and
locates a retractable key chain on his
belt. He unreels the ring of keys and
opens the door. He lets the keys retract
back to the belt and drags him into the
apartment.
INT. HUSKY MAN'S APARTMENT - SECONDS
LATER
Martin moves silently down the hall in a
crouch. He comes to the bedroom and
slips across the threshold.
WOMAN V.O.
...Whenever news of you filters back, the
school is excited and proud of your
accomplishments...
INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Martin crouches down outside the bedroom
door. He points the gun at the door,
and reaching up turns the knob. As the
door opens, the Husky Man FIRES wildly
over Martin's head. Martin returns with
one shot to the hut which sits the man
down on the floor.
WOMAN V.O.
...We hope Grosse Pointe High prepared
you well to lead the kind of life that
makes an impact on the world...
Martin kicks the gun away from the fallen
man, and raises his barrel to the
man's forehead.
WOMAN V.O.
...Remember, "there's no where you can go
that you haven't learned how to go in
time... It's easy..."
HUSKY MAN
(in severe pain)
Whatever it is that I'm doing that you
don't like I'll stop doing it.
MARTIN
It's not me.
Martin cocks the gun....
EXT. EAST-WEST HOLDING COMPANY, LOS
ANGELES - DAY
The perpetual sun shines down on a small
lot of pre-fab office bungalows.
INT. BLANK HOLDING COMPANY
A small suite of dry-walled offices.
EAST-WEST HOLDING COMPANY
is stenciled on glass doors behind Martin
who stands in front of a young woman
reading from some kind of invitation. She
is MARCELLA MAYES.
MARCELLA
...So come on back to the old oak tree,
acorns. Signed, the reunion committee."
Marcella holds up the mauve envelope and
smiles slyly. For the first time,
Martin looks scared.
MARTIN
Throw that away.
MARCELLA
This?
MARTIN
Don't tease me. You know what I do for a
living.
MARCELLA
It's from one of those P.O. Boxes. How
was the trip?
MARTIN
Tedious. I now authorize you top throw
away all personal mail.
MARCELLA
All of it?
MARTIN
And not show it to me. Ever again.
MARCELLA
That's going to cost.
MARTIN
I'll pay.
Martin begins to walk past her into his
office, but Marcella stops him.
MARCELLA
They're not happy, sir.
MARTIN
I'm not happy.
MARCELLA
They say their friend was suppose to have
a heart attack and die in his sleep.
MARTIN
He didn't.
MARCELLA
They blame you for the compromise.
MARTIN
And they want me to make up for it.
MARCELLA
In Detroit. This weekend.
MARTIN
Tell them that's impossible. I need my
normal lead time.
MARCELLA
They were very upset.
MARTIN
Would you describe their position as
inflexible?
MARCELLA
Intractable, sir. You leave tonight.
Marcella looks concerned.
MARCELLA
And sir, I also get that broken-mirror,
black-cat, Friday-the-thirteenth kind of
feeling about this one....
MARTIN
There's nothing to be done about it.
MARCELLA
I liquidated the last account in Zurich,
and split it into two new ones in
Estonia.
MARTIN
Good. What else? Anything interesting?
MARCELLA
Mmm, not really. But you're gonna love
this one.
She hands him a piece of paper. He scans
it.
MARCELLA
Enough?
MARTIN
Never enough.
MARCELLA
But it a Greenpeace boat. It'd be so
easy.
Martin looks at her wearily. He puts it
into the paper shredder at the side of
her desk.
MARTIN
I have scruples. Next.
MARCELLA
Paperwork on the Detroit thing. It's a
full dossier. Very comprehensive.
She raises a thick brown dossier from the
top of her desk and puts it down
again. Martin moves through a door to his
private office.
MARTIN'S OFFICE
Martin goes into his office and sits at
his desk. On the walls are a couple of
boring prints of tallships. A bookshelf
holds trappings of a loose attempt at a
cover-- a few shipping manifests, sealane
tables, and other specialized
reference books on import/export. He sits
and stares.
NEW ANGLE
Time has passed, and Martin still sits at
his desk massaging his gums with a
rubber-tipped dental pointer.
C.U. MARTIN'S TEETH
The dental tool jumps across the gaps
between his teeth like a hummingbird.
MARCELLA
(off-screen)
You should get going....
MARTIN
pulls back his jacket lapel and fits the
utensil into a pocket protector that is
also home to a toothbrush, emery board,
tweezers, and comb. He stands and walks
out of his office.
FOYER
Martin moves toward the door. As he
passes Marcella she hands him the mauve
envelope and a travel portfolio.
MARCELLA
Don't forget your identity.
MARTIN
See you next week.
Martin stops short as he reaches the
threshold. He holds up the envelope, and
stares a dagger through it. On his way
out, over his shoulder...
MARTIN
Tell Dr. Oatman I'm on my way.
INT. DR. OATMAN'S OFFICE - DAY
Martin slouches on a leather couch. He
holds the mauve envelope, now open.
DR. OATMAN V.O.
Why don't you want to go to your high
school reunion?
MARTIN
It’s in Michigan. Honestly, what do I
have in common with those people? Or with
anyone?
DR. OATMAN sits in the window. He is Kris
Kringle-esque, and wears a sheepskin
vest, rough-hewn shirt, faded Levis, and
old Frye boots. Oatman nods with the
suave understanding of a man happy to
collect fifty thousand in fees before
asking a tough question.
DR. OATMAN
You went to school with these people.
MARTIN
Come on.
DR. OATMAN
We've spent a lot of time discussing
those years. Remember we said that fear
is
a transfer of the bodily hurt associated
by experience with the thing feared, to
the thought of the thing. Thus we fear a
dog without distinctly imagining its
bite.
MARTIN
Shouldn't you be taking notes?
DR. OATMAN
Tell me about your vision of the reunion.
CLOSE-UP - MARTIN
CUT TO:
MARTIN'S P.O.V. - FROM ABOVE
Of a crowded gymnasium. The alumni below
stops what they are doing and look up
at Martin, DRAWING GUNS OF ALL SHAPES AND
SIZES AND OPEN FIRE ON MARTIN. THE
UNITED FORCE INSTANTLY DISINTEGRATES, AND
ALL 400 PEOPLE TURN THEIR GUNS ON EACH
OTHER. A BLOODBATH ENSUES. ONE ALUMNI
SHOOTS HER OWN HEAD OFF, ANOTHER MOWS
DOWN
THE BAR, ETC.
CUT BACK TO:
MARTIN AND OATMAN
MARTIN
It'll be depressing.
DR. OATMAN
How do you know?
MARTIN
I just know.
DR. OATMAN
Say more.
MARTIN
They'll have husbands and wives and
children and houses and dogs.... made
themselves a part of something. And they
can talk about what they do. What am I
going to say?
(sarcastic)
"I killed the President of Paraguay with
a fork."
Oatman twitches nervously, almost
spilling his coffee.
DR. OATMAN
You needn't be so frank with me about
your work.
MARTIN
Why not. I trust you. You couldn't turn
me in because of Doctor-Patient
privilege... and I don't want to be
"withholding"... and I know where you
live.
DR. OATMAN
You know where I live?
MARTIN
We're both professionals, Oatman.
DR. OATMAN
I think what you fear Martin is
domesticity. It's the greatest fear that
men
have who belong to Western Culture. It's
centuries old. Like King Phillip, in
the 11th or 12th century who decided one
day that he was so bored with his
dreary life at home with his wife he
thought, "Well, wouldn't it be great if
we
hit the road and fought... oh... the
Saracens." So he put the word out and was
amazed when a million men signed up and
all of them wanted to go and fight in
distant lands and do terrible things to
people rather than stay at home with
their families.
MARTIN
So you're saying that Ulysses--everything
he said to his queen when he came
back--everything was a lie? He just
wanted to fuck around?
DR. OATMAN
Yes.
MARTIN
Mmm.
Beat.
DR. OATMAN
And how have you been feeling about
your... work lately?
MARTIN
Uneasy. Dispassionate. Bored. It's just
getting hard to go to work in a good
mood. I'm starting to think I've been in
the business too long. Last week I did
a guy younger than me.
INT. CHURCH -
A SERIES OF QUICK SHOTS:
MARTIN
From the back of the darkened empty
church, we see him mount the altar.
MARTIN V.O.
A priest in fact.
MARTIN'S HANDS
open the gilded doors to reveal the
chalice. He removes it, squirts a clear
liquid into the cup, and swishes it out.
He returns the chalice to the cabinet.
MARTIN V.O.
The church seems to be purging itself of
it's pedophile.
MARTIN
Sits in the back pew of the church, now
crowded for Mann. He watches the PRIEST
lift the chalice into the air, murmur a
prayer, and drink from it. The Priest
collapses behind the altar.
MARTIN V.O.
It's a bull market.
C.U. OF ALTAR CARPET
The chalice bounces free from the
Priest's hand as it hits the ground.
MARTIN V.O.
Anyway, that never use to happen. I was
always the prodigy. Now I'm just one of
the guys.
DR. OATMAN V.O.
Maybe some of the discomfort you're
feeling is... guilt. Remorse. Over the
innocent people you've killed.
INT. OATMAN'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
MARTIN
If I show up at your door, chances are
you did something to bring me there. I
don't care about that stuff, anyway.
DR. OATMAN
What stuff?
MARTIN
(dismissive)
Morality.
Oatman's glad the session's just about
over.
DR. OATMAN
Go to your reunion, Martin. See those
people and discover what they mean to
you.
Try not to kill anybody for a few days,
see how you feel.
MARTIN
If I get antsy I'll kill a few small
animals.
OATMAN
Now we're making progress.
INT. COMDO - NIGHT
Very dark. No pictures or plants. Almost
no furniture, and what he does have is
black. The only sign of life is a CAT.
The cat watches on as Martin sorts
through a cardboard box, finally coming
to a photo album.
CAT
Meow.
MARTIN
Just a minute.
INSERT-ALBUM
A teen-aged Martin Blank: shy boy with a
nervous smile. He poses with his
mother, an older woman with a kind
smile... but her eyes are dark; aged by a
life of work and worry. On the opposing
page is a gilt funeral announcement that
reads: "IN LOVING MEMORY... VISTOR ALLEN
BLANK...."
MARTIN
turns the page.
INSERT-PHOTO ALBUM
A photograph of a tall, thin girl: a
bright smile from within a bulky winter
coat. A girl he's always wondered about:
DEBI NEWBERRY. Handwritten on the photo
in girlish loops: "Would you rather...?!"
CAT
Meow!
INT. KITCHEN - SAME
Martin pulls himself away from the album
and the cat follows him, moaning
hungrily--
MARTIN
Food soon...
Martin opens a restaurant-style
refrigerator. It holds various bottles of
vitamins, spirulina, wheatgrass,
digestible hydrogen peroxide, fluoride
treatment, oxygenated mouth rinse, and
thirty cans of CATFOOD.
MARTIN
Tuna or liver?
CAT
Meow.
MARTIN
Tuna it is.
He opens a can for the cat and a bottle
for himself. While the cat eats, he
returns to the cardboard box. Finds a
YEARBOOK. Flips it open....
INSERT-YEARBOOK
A picture of a senior class "Blues
Brothers" party: a group of teens mug to
the
camera in Blues Brothers get-ups.
Sprinters race for a finish line, their
chests
stretching for the tape.
DEBI NEWBERY'S SENIOR PICTURE
A more mature version of the girl in the
album. Her name appears under his
picture...
INT. GROCER'S KITCHEN - NIGHT
Track light fills the gourmet-rustic
kitchen. GROCER stands, wearing a
burgundy
Fila sweat suit, pushing beets into a
vegetable juicer. Next to the juicer are
piles of celery and carrots, as well. A
low-key BLIP is heard from another room.
Grocer tops off the glass and takes it
out of the kitchen.
INT. GROCER'S GREAT ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Grocer enters the main room of the villa-
style A-frame. He moves to an antique
oak desk and sits in front of a COMPUTER.
ON-SCREEN GRAPHICS
"Click OK for remote access caller"
OK is clicked.
"Availability for two days in Detroit
area"
"Terms"
"$560,000"
"When"
"Now"
"OK/ FAX materials"
Grocer leans back in his chair and sips
the juice. After a moment, the FAX
machine on the desk rattles. The computer
beeps.
"confirmation number of wire transfer#:
AJ6687-OI99471"
Grocer hits the return button after
taking in the number. A graphic appears:
"Connection is terminated/ Status idle"
Grocer's FAX begins to moan and chatter.
Grocer raises his juice glass to the
computer in a lazy toast.
INT. PLANE - NIGHT
Martin reclines in first class, soaring
toward the Midwest on the red-eye. He
has already scanned his magazines and
they are piled in the empty seat next to
him. He sets aside a Powerbar. Martin
reads Kill Without Joy. After a moment,
he
sets the book down and takes up Iron
John.
INT. DETROIT AIRPORT TERMINAL - EARLY
MORNING
At the edge of the airport bar sits
LARDNER and MCCULLERS, two Government
Spooks, agency unknown. They are both in
blazers, no ties, early thirties, and
they watch the passing crowd.
LARDNER
You always say that. You always say that.
I'm telling you, you never met the
man.
MCCULLERS
Seventeen months ago I was posting a walk
in Lisbon, and he was there. He never
saw me. But I saw him, though.
LARDNER
Lisbon?
MCCULLERS
In Portugal, yes.
In the background, Martin passes by them
as he walks down the hall. Without
directly regarding him, the two stand,
drop some cash on the bar, and begin to
leave.
LARDNER
Here's the news: He hasn't been in
Portugal since '90. I know that from the
file. Why don't you read the file, man?
MCCULLERS
In fact, I think I talked with him, in
Bonn.
Lardner can neither confirm nor deny
this.
LARDNER
You always say that. You always have to
know everybody. Why don't I just take
the weekend off and let you kill him.
Since you two are so close.
They exit.
EXT. EXIT RAMP, DETROIT AIRPORT - MORNING
INSIDE MARTIN'S CAR
Martin, in a black Lincoln Town Car,
veers off of the airport artery and on to
a
turnpike. The radio broadcasts the news.
BROADCAST V.O.
...with highs today in the upper
seventies. Related stocks on Wall Street
today
as scandal continues to rock the joint
U.S.-Japanese Tech Center...
MARTIN'S CAR
blows past CAMERA and on down the road.
After a beat, a mid-eighties Ford
Country Squire station wagon follows,
occupied by two figures.
INSIDE THE COUNTRY SQUIRE
are Lardner and McCullers. They listen to
the same broadcast.
BROADCAST V.O.
....An unknown "whistle-blower" has
leaked a number of critical flaws in the
safety designs of next year's models to
authorities that could cost millions in
recalls....
MARTIN
flips through the dial, pausing on Rush
Limbaugh who waxes fascistically.
MARTIN
Mein hero.
...and then turns the dial again and cuts
in on "Armageddon Time," slow reggae
vibe by The Clash.
EXT. HIGHWAY-
Martin drives down the roadway...
headlong into his past. Dig it...
INT. MARTIN'S CAR
Martin turns up the volume as he reacts
to a familiar voice....
FEMALE DEEJAY V.O.
(on radio)
--this is WFRN, all vinyl, all the time.
Oldies from the eighties. It's a cold
summer day in Grosse Pointe--
CUT TO:
CLOSE-UP - A FULL, FEMALE MOUTH
lit only by dime slivers of sunlight, in
front of a microphone. Stray, gossamer
strands of hair hanging in her face move
in front of her mouth as she speaks....
FEMALE DEEJAY
--and I'm ready for some good tunes and
angry talk. Or angry tunes and good
talk--
CUT TO:
MARTIN
looking somewhere far away, beyond what
is before him in the windshield...
FEMALE DEEJAY V.O.
--Or maybe we'll just play the Cocteau
Twins and get over the goo-angry-talking
music. As you know--
CUT TO:
THE DEEJAY'S HANDS
as they distractedly toy with the wire at
the base of the mic.
FEMALE DEEJAY
--for some moments in life there are no
words, and a little nonsense now and
then is relished by the wisest man--
CUT TO:
MARTIN
still rapt, makes a sharp turn into a
shopping district.
CUT TO:
HER MOUTH
FEMALE DEEJAY V.O.
--The Cocteau Twins, though also a band
of the nineties, will be aired due to
the fact that they created their own
language to sing by--
CUT TO:
MARTIN
slows on a quaint street of cute shops.
He creeps up to a storefront on hid
right and stops, staring through the
passenger window....
CUT TO:
DEBI NEWBERRY
the female deejay. She sits slumped in a
well-worn executive chair, her back to
the studio console and the picture window
behind it that opens to the street....
DEBI
--Now that's freedom--
she swivels in the chair to face the
street....
DEBI'S P.O.V.
of Martin's Town Car outside, Martin
silhouetted in shadow.
DEBI
Her brow furrowed as she peers at the
car, something summoned by the dark
figure. Her words falter almost
imperceptibly.
DEBI
--The best I can do is a rhyme: Where are
all the good men dead? In the heart or
in the head? Back later....
MARTIN
Shaken from his trance by her stare,
pulls back into the street and
disappears....
INT. MARTIN'S CAR - MORNING
Martin drives, listening to the radio. He
turns the corner with an expectant
look on his face. Suddenly his face drops
as he slows and pulls over....
MARTIN'S P.O.V. - 7-11 STORE
Martin looks left of the store, then
right, behind him, then back at the
store.
Bewildered, he gets out of the car.
WIDE SHOT
of Martin as he walks with purpose. He
halts in the middle of the lot. He puts
his hands on his hips, stares, then moves
in.... We stay wide as he enters the
store and addresses the clerk inside.
MARTIN
What are you doing here?
CARL, the store clerk tries to get a grip
on this question.
CARL
A double shift. What's it look like?
(softening)
Can I help you with something?
Martin's head pans the room, processing.
MARTIN
I don't think so.
EXT. 7-11 PAYPHONE - MORNING
Martin continues to gaze at the structure
as if it's a lunar landscape.
MARTIN
(into phone)
Dr. Oatman. Dr. Oatman. Please pick up if
you're there.... It's Martin Blank.
It's gone. My house. It's not here. My
house is gone and now there's a 7-11
here.... And that's unfortunate.... You
can never go home again, Dr. Oatman.
Martin hangs up. He watches one-stop
shoppers come and go.
MARTIN
(to himself)
But I guess you can shop there.
INT. NURSING HOME - DAY
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
of a NURSE leading him down a drab,
antiseptic hallway. She banks into the
sunlit room where a wispy woman in her
late fifties sits expectantly on the edge
of the bed clutching her purse in one
hand, a filterless Pall-Mall in the
other,
a light coat on. This is MARY BLANK. She
suffers from Alzheimer's or something
just as debilitating.
NURSE
Mary, your son's here.
The nurse gently eases Mary up. Martin
hugs Mary stiffly and pats her shoulders.
Mary takes hold of Martin's arm. They
start out of the room.
EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - DAY
They walk past a school-yard park fitted
with a set of swings, baseball
diamonds, and a small grove of trees. She
smokes and hacks.
MARY
I bought a new rug.
MARTIN
That's wonderful, Mom.
MARY
What's a revival tent?
MARTIN
It's a place where religious people--
MARY
(knowingly)
Marlin Perkins and Jim!
MARTIN
Jim?
MARY
His assistant. He acted like Marlin's
son, only he wasn't. At least they never
said he was... I bet they were lovers,
faggots. Yes, gay lovers. Wild Kingdom my
ass!
Mary coughs horribly.
MARTIN
It's good to see you. I'm sure you're
curious about what I've been doing.
MARY
I spoke to your father the other day.
MARTIN
I imagine that'd be rather difficult.
MARY
Nature made him then broke the mold.
Martin decides to change the subject.
MARTIN
They told me you're taking lithium, mom.
MARY
Yes, they give me headaches. I have a
headache.
MARTIN
You have a headache?
MARY
I have a headache. You have a headache?
MARTIN
No, I don't have one.
MARY
You don't have a headache. I have a
headache.
Mary leans in close, smiling.
MARY
We had a good laugh, didn't we?
MARTIN
Yeah. I guess we did.
EXT. NURSING HOME - DAY
As they head toward Martin's car, Mary
stops and points to it.
MARY
Why don't you return this car and borrow
mine? Have Debi follow you to the
rent-a-car so you can get a ride back.
MARTIN
I think I'll go see Debi today.
MARY
Of course you will.
MARTIN
I can't think of anything to say to her
that seems appropriate given I left and
never said goodbye to her.
MARY
Take care of her. She's a keeper.
MARTIN
Yeah....
MARY
And a leader. Didn't she meet Castro on
foreign exchange?
MARTIN
I have always thought about her and
missed her.
A nurse approaches with a wheelchair.
MARY
Separate the wheat from the chaff and
you've got the candle cat.
Together, Martin and the nurse help Mary
into it. Mary gazes at Martin, taking
him in.
MARY
Remember no matter how impossible your
problems feel. I've known people without
a chance in the world. And all of a
sudden, they have lives. Time allows
miracles. Let yourself breathe, son.
Martin bends down and kisses her on the
cheek. The nurse spins the chair around
and heads toward the building. He is
somewhat fatigued from the experience,
but
he tries once more to connect.
MARTIN
Mom...
The nurse stops and turns Mary around to
face him. Mary looks up at Martin and
brightens. She starts to sing out like
Ethel Merman, arms out Broadway style.
MARY
"What's up doc/ what's cookin'?/ What's
up doc?/ Are ya lookin'?/ Hey! Look out!
You're gonna hurt someone,/ with that old
shotgun,/ Hey... what's... up...
Doooooc...!/ We really mean it!"
Mary stops short, and squints at Martin.
MARY
Hey, you're a handsome devil. What's your
name?
EXT. GRAVEYARD ROAD - DAY
Martin stops the car and looks out the
window at the sea of headstones. He jerks
his hand in a stiff wave...
MARTIN
Hey Pop.... You got off easy. The house
is a 7-11. Mom's a
psycho-pharmacological punching bag and I
murder for cash. If you were here I
think you'd be proud.
He drives off.
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - DAY
The room features a big square bed,
dresser and television. Martin enters,
kicks
a leather bag under the bed, and grabs
the steel-sided briefcase.
MARTIN
pries out a wall vent, slides in the case
and replaces the vent.
EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY
Lardner and McCullers are staked out
along the main strip of town. Lardner
snores, face pressed up against the
passenger window. McCullers lays back in
his
seat, a to-go cup in his lap. He taps the
cup with one finger as he absently
sings his favorite Bob Seager song to
himself...
MCCULLERS
"...Against the wind... just a young man
running... Against the wind... let the
cowboy's ride!.... Blame on it the
thuuunder! Night moves..."
McCullers catches of Martin's Town Car
coming down the street. He nudges
Lardner, and points.
LARDNER AND MCCULLERS P.O.V.
of Martin pulling into a space on the
street outside the radio station. He gets
out, looking nervous.
INT. RADIO STATION - DAY
Debi flips on the "ON-AIR" switch and
prepares to speak into the microphone.
Martin walks in. Debi sees him. They
stare at each other. The song ends. Dead
air. After a moment...
DEBI
(on air, groping)
WRFN playing all vinyl, all the time.
Oldies from the eighties. That was ah...
the Specials. Doing... one of their
songs...
Debi turns to turntable B and finds it
empty. She turns back to turntable A and
lets the record roll on.
DEBI
...and here's another.
Debi swivels around to face Martin.
MARTIN
"Oldies from the eighties?"
After a long pause....
DEBI
I just play my own collection.
MARTIN
It's nice to see you again.
Debi says nothing, just stares at him, in
shock.
MARTIN
How long has it been?
DEBI
Since you stood me up on prom night and
vanished without saying a word?
MARTIN
Ten years, I think. What I miss?
Debi slowly grooves into irony, her best
defense.
DEBI
Well, let me see... they tore down the
George Orwell monument and put up a bust
of George Michael. Main Street's a four-
laner, no left turns four to seven. I
was married and divorced. And Grosse
Pointe is now officially the new sister
city to Lower Hutt, New Zealand. We have
fiber-optic town meetings every two
months.
MARTIN
Here is now there. There is here.
Their eyes lock on each other....
DEBI
Those are the headlines.
The request line buzzes.
DEBI
Hold that thought.
(into phone)
WRFN FM, Grosse Pointe. All vinyl, all
the...
(pauses)
No Pearl Jam. Call back in ten years.
Beat. Debi makes the move.
DEBI
Tell me about yourself.
MARTIN
I'm in California most of the time.
Traveling a lot on business. That's about
it, really.
DEBI
That's it?
MARTIN
Not much else.
DEBI
What's your business?
MARTIN
I'm a professional killer.
DEBI
Professional killer. Do you get dental
with that?
Beat.
MARTIN
Well, I'm in town for a few days, anyway.
They run out of words, the moment too big
for small talk. Martin gets the fear,
breaks it off.
MARTIN
Well, I gotta go. But I'll come back.
DEBI
Okay.
Martin leaves Debi sitting alone, in
disbelief.
EXT. RADIO STATION - DAY
Martin steps out of the storefront
station along the fashionable Grosse
Pointe
shopping district. He stops in the middle
of the street with a strained look on
his face.
INT. LARDNER & MCCULLERS' COUNTRY SQUIRE
- SAME
LARDNER & MCCULLERS' P.O.V.
of Martin standing in the street.
LARDNER AND MCCULLERS
They frown, wondering at Martin's next
move.
INT. DEEJAY BOOTH -
Debi lost in thought, still. After a
moment, she sits upright and flips the
"ON-AIR" switch.
DEBI
(into mike)
A man comes to you. He is from the past
bringing you pain long since put behind
you. He says peculiar things and leaves
abruptly. It all comes flooding back....
EXT. STREET -
Martin stops in his tracks. His face
softens, then becomes determined. He
turns
and walks back toward the station.
INT. DEEJAY BOOTH -
Debi broadcasting...
DEBI
It felt like an apparition, or some
cheap, gruesome Rod Serling time warp I'd
been thrust back into without warning.
There's a strangeness in the air and I
don't mind telling you, I'm a little
spooked. He was a man from my past. A man
I
loved. A man who disappeared.
DEBI'S P.O.V.
of Martin walking back into the station.
DEBI
A man who's walking back into the
station.
Martin comes into the booth. The
temperature rises as they square off.
INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE -
LARDNER
Well?
MCCULLERS
I don't think so.
LARDNER
Well, remember when Frysal's men paid off
the Deejay in Cairo to announce a
bogus press conference in the --
MCCULLERS
--Nooo--
LARDNER
--Yes. And the Munich Olympics in '72. A
local radio station started
broadcasting news of the massacre two
minutes before it happened.
McCullers is not to be outdone.
MCCULLERS
That's strictly Bŕader-Meinhof stuff.
LARDNER
It was the PLO.
MCCULLERS
Whatever.
INT. DEEJAY BOOTH
Martin and Debi locked in a passionate
embrace. They break away.
DEBI
Sit.
Martin obeys. Debi clandestinely flips
the "ON-AIR" switch as she drops into her
chair. The "ON-AIR" light bar goes on
above and behind Martin. Unbeknownst to
him their conversation is put out over
the airwaves.
DEBI
All right mystery man. I want some
answers. Let's recap. Spring of '84. Two
young lovers with frightening natural
chemistry. The girl sits in a
seven-hundred dollar prom dress at her
father's house waiting for the most
romantic night of her young life. The boy
never shows up, until now. So, what's
the question?
MARTIN
Where have I been?
DEBI
More like what happened? What happened,
Mr. Blank?
MARTIN
I don't know exactly. I could venture a
guess but it would sound like a
rationalization... I thought you know...
maybe seeing you, some friends, my
house... of course now a 7-11--
DEBI
--Torn down in the name of convenience--
MARTIN
--and I guess, sure, seeing you would be
part of that whole equation... I
suppose the most important thing, really.
I don't know. Anyway, this whole
thing's my therapist's idea. It's my
shrink, really.
DEBI
Ohhh. You're in therapy too, Marty?
MARTIN
You see someone?
DEBI
Uh, no. So you're back now, a decade
later, and you want to sort things out
with
me. The question now is, do I allow
you... access... to my being?
Martin says nothing.
DEBI
All right then. Would you like to share
any more deeply personal thoughts with
our listening audience before we go to
our phone poll and see how the folks in
radioland come down on this one?
A beat as Martin realizes he's been had.
He seems about to bolt.
DEBI
Should a broken-hearted girl give a guy a
second chance at love....
Debi jabs a phone line on the console.
DEBI
(HARD)
You're on the air.
Martin deflates.
OLD WOMAN'S VOICE
I think this young man has avoided the
question completely. Has not discussed
"what happened" nor if he's sorry for
what he has done. Therefore, I don't see
any reason why you should see him until
he fully discloses his intentions and
feelings.
DEBI
Thank you caller.
Stabs another line.
DEBI
You're on the air.
DUMB GUY VOICE
Are you there?
DEBI
Yes.
DUMB GUY VOICE
No, the guy.
Martin looks up, humiliated.
MARTIN
Yeah....
DUMB GUY VOICE
Uh... when you guys use to go out... Did
you guys ever... heh heh heh heh...
ever fuckin', ever totally fuckin' heh
heh heh-
DEBI
Next caller.
GUFF MAN VOICE
I don't know, Debi. Sounds like bad gas
to me. I would not allow him access to
your being.
DEBI
Thank you.
DEBI
Grosse Pointe Michigan, I hear you loud
and clear: "If you love something set it
free. If it comes back to you it's,
well...
She turns to him and shrugs
apologetically.
DEBI
...Broken...."
Martin has his answer.
EXT. RADIO STATION - DAY
Martin leaves the station, alone and
beaten down.
MARTIN
Dammit. Never trust my instincts.
He scans the main strip.
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
A MAN walks down the street. He is FELIX,
a bookish, forgettable man in his
forties, wearing Le Coq Sportif sweats
and shoes. He looks as if he has a dark
cloud over his head. Martin's seen him
somewhere, and doesn't like what he
remembers. Martin's POV TRACKS him.
FELIX'S P.O.V.
As he walks down the street, he spots the
Country Squire, and eyes Lardner and
McCullers in the front seat.
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
follows Felix's eyes to Lardner and
McCullers and catches their look. Their
eyes
lock, neither wanting to betray that
they've made each other. They all do a
pretty good job. His P.O.V. swings to a
square-jawed, hale fellow wearing dark
sunglasses who is approaching directly
and only a few feet away. The man is
going for something in his breast
pocket...
MARTIN
reaches into his own jacket, most likely
for a gun....
THE MAN
pulls out a glasses case, and takes off
his shades-- He is PAUL SWIDERSKI.
MARTIN AND PAUL
Martin relaxes.
PAUL
(grinning ear-to-ear)
Hell, I would've voted for you, but
there's all this apple sauce stuck in my
phone.... I don't wanna talk about it.
How the hell are you?!
(extends his hand)
Here's five good ones!
No trace of recognition on Martin's face.
PAUL
Marty! It's me. Paul.
MARTIN
(realizing)
Paul?
PAUL
(re: hand)
You're leaving me hanging here....
They shake. Martin looks him up and down,
astonished at the respectable veneer
of his old burn-out friend.
PAUL
Hey. Give me a break.
INT. PAUL'S BMW - DAY
Martin and Paul rive through Grosse
Pointe, Michigan: Wide streets lined with
huge, shady oaks. Castle-like homes on
golf-course green lawns. A comfortable,
Midwestern Beverly Hills. They are
cruising their old haunts, Paul smoking a
joint.
PAUL
This won't take but a minute. I just
gotta hold their hands for a final
walk-through. I'll take them in, get 'em
out, then you and I can grab a little
quality time.
Martin looks out the window, breathing in
the past.
PAUL
Goddamn, It's good to see you. I was
afraid you joined a cult or something. I
half-expected you to come back to town in
a fennel wreath and paper pants.
Paul offers Martin the joint. He
declines.
MARTIN
There was no money in it.
Martin regards Paul archly.
MARTIN
(grinning)
So what happened to you?
PAUL
Same thing that happened to you-- I
stopped poutin' there on the sidelines.
Got
in. Got on the team. I joined the working
week, you slick fucking asshole, so
why don't you valet park your high horse
and take it easy on your old buddy,
Paul.
MARTIN
Fair enough.
Beat.
PAUL
God it's great to see you.
MARTIN
You too.
EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE - DAY
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
of a lovely YOUNG COUPLE on the front
porch of a mid-sized Wright home....
Perhaps that could be him if things were
different, but for now it feels like
along shot. Paul is hawking the house to
them out of earshot.
SOUTHTEC GUARD
V.O.
Well, we do what we have to do if we find
you on the property. But we don't
really enforce the law, we execute
company policy for homeowners.
MARTIN AND THE GUARD
standing in the driveway.
MARTIN
So when are you authorized to use deadly
force?
SOUTHTEC GUARD
Well, a 'course, taxes provide your basic
service-- police and whatnot. But our
customers need a little more than just
that, you understand? This badge doesn't
mean that I am a peace officer.
The woman turns at Martin and smiles.
Martin smiles back.
MARTIN
So it's not a meaningful symbol, or
anything. That badge is just the badge of
your company. If I look suspicious on
your customers' property-- well, under
those heightened circumstances you have
the authority to, ah.... To shoot me.
SOUTHTEC GUARD
To shoot you. Correct.
MARTIN
How did you get this job?
SOUTHTEC GUARD
Well, they were hiring, and it was only a
two week course....
MARTIN
(pleasantly)
Wow.
Paul walks the happy couple down the
steps.
PAUL
(to couple)
...What more can I say>
HUSBAND
(smiling)
We'll talk soon.
PAUL
(much hand gesturing)
You'll be raising your new family in a
work of art. A work of art in a work of
art.
Paul looks at Martin and the Guard,
inviting them into the sell.
SOUTHTEC GUARD
I'm sure you'll be very happy.
All look to Martin....
MARTIN
(heartfelt)
When my time comes, if it ever does, I
want a beautiful, normal place like
this... and a wife like you....
All are confused. Martin thumbs to the
guard.
MARTIN
...and you'll be safe here....
Paul looks at his shoes and rolls his
shoulders.
EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE
Lardner and McCullers sit in the wagon,
watching the house in the distance.
INT. PAUL'S BMW - LATER
Martin and Paul cut through a
particularly charming neighborhood.
PAUL
Now. I don't make a habit of pimping my
friends, but there is one prime little
piece of land that you must see....
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
A sprawling gingerbread mansion rises
into view. A long and winding driveway
cuts through thickly wooded property to
the house.
MARTIN V.O.
Debi's house.
PAUL V.O.
Kind of crept up on you, didn't it?
C.U. OF MARTIN
MARTIN
No. You drove us here.
PAUL
Yeah, but it's still kind of eerie, isn't
it?
MARTIN
No.
Martin's not listening. His eyes track
the house out the window.
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
of the mansion.
They roll slowly by Debi's house.
They drive in silence for a beat. Paul
suddenly swerves to the shoulder, jams
the brake, and turns on Martin.
PAUL
Ten years. What happened!?
MARTIN
I freaked out, joined the Army, worked
for the government, and went into
business for myself.... I'm a
professional killer.
PAUL
Thank you.
Paul, satisfied, gets back on the road.
PAUL
Professional killer, huh? Does that come
with a good HMO?
EXT. ROAD - DAY
Paul makes a turn. They approach a large
car dealership. The sign above it says
DESTEPHANO'S BAVARIAN MOTOR WORKS
MARTIN
(looking ahead)
He sells BMW's?
PAUL
He sold me this bad boy.
MARTIN
How could you put your hard-earned
dollars into the hands of the class
bully?
PAUL
He gave me a great deal.
MARTIN
Mein Dealer.
Paul slows outside the lot. BOB
DESTEPHANO-- a big, angry-looking man in
an
expensive suit-- stands in the lot,
puffing up amidst his stable of expensive
cars.
PAUL
Hey! Bob! The car's running great.
BOB
(dismissive)
Glad to hear it.
Bob turns his back on them and begins to
walk away.
MARTIN
(shouts)
Bob...
BOB
(turning)
What?
MARTIN
It's me. Martin Blank.
BOB
Really...? So what?
MARTIN
Okay. See you later.
EXT. RADIO STATION - NIGHT
Martin climbs out of Paul's car and
begins to walk toward his own. Paul calls
after him.
PAUL
See you at the left-a-boy-came-back-a-
man-made-good party.
Martin nods him off. Paul pulls away.
MARTIN
stands across the street from the radio
station, looking at Debi in the
window.... Martin draws a thin rifle
scope from his back pocket, and lifts it
to
his eye....
MARTIN'S P.O.V. - SCOPE
of Debi, in the crosshairs, bored,
tapping a pencil to the beat of an
unheard
song.
MARTIN
dejected. He puts the scope away and gets
in his car.
INT. 7-11 - NIGHT
Martin walks into the store, looking
around once again at his old home. To the
left of the door, a typical suburban
teenage SKATEBOARDER is lost in the
"Mortal
Combat" video game and something too loud
from his walkman. Carl, still working
the double, nods to Martin.
CARL
Can I help you?
MARTIN
What's done is done.
Martin moves up one aisle to the gum
rack. He picks out a pack of Beaman's and
unwraps a stick as he heads to the
counter. On the way, he makes a black
Town
Car pulling into a spot next to his own.
He immediately changes course, and
bee-lines for a rear aisle where he ducks
down....
FELIX
Comes through the door, drawing a Mac-10
for each hand.
MARTIN
grabs the gum out of his mouth and sticks
it onto the bottom of the Glock .9mm
he has produced from somewhere in his
suit.
CARL
grabs the cash drawer, sets it on the
counter, and puts his hands up.
THE SKATEBOARDER
Plays on.
FELIX AND CARL
Felix shoots CARL DEAD on his way toward
MARTIN
Bolts up the cooler aisle. Bursts of FIRE
follow him, taking out each freezer
door behind him.
MARTIN AND FELIX
EXCHANGE FIRE John Woo-style between the
aisles of the cramped store. Felix
delivers a close-to-home burst as he
jumps the counter, sending Martin diving
out of view.
MARTIN
pinned behind the Slurpee machine, pauses
to reload his now two Glock nines.
Martin steals a glance to get a bead on
Felix and is met with a salvo that rocks
the Slurpee machine, spattering him with
several flavors... and that's all he
can take. Martin comes up BLASTING with
both guns, but all that's left of Felix
is swinging doors and squealing tires.
Martin moves to the cashier island, low
to the ground.
THE SKATEBOARDER
Twitches and jerks, still absorbed in his
game and oblivious to the surrounding
carnage.
CASHIER ISLAND
Martin crawls through the waist-level
swinging door and moves to Carl.
CARL
is really dead. Martin rolls him over to
check it out and finds
A BOMB
under the corpse.
MARTIN
Flips the corpse back on top of the
device and leaps the counter toward the
doors. He grabs the shoulder or the
Skateboarder, who shrugs him off,
annoyed--
SKATEBOARDER
What the fuck, man?!
The video game screen explodes. Shot full
of Martin's bullets. The Skateboarder
reacts backward and Martin jerks him out
of the double doors.
EXT. 7-11 - CONTINUOUS
The Skateboarder is running like crazy,
and Martin's car is peeling out in
reverse as the 7-11 is blown to hell.
INT. MARTIN'S CAR - MOMENTS LATER
Martin's hair is matted with Slurpee as
he tries to drive and cool out. He sees
his do in the mirror, pulls out a comb
and starts to comb it back into a slick
Pat Riley style.
EXT. RADIO STATION - NIGHT
Martin walks in, not looking half bad,
considering. Debi looks up from some
reading. "Naďve Melody" by the Talking
Heads plays in the studio.
MARTIN
Are you going to the reunion?
DEBI
No. I'm not going. Is that why you're
here?
MARTIN
That's part of it.
DEBI
Well, you'll have a ball. You seem to
have everything everybody wants when they
go back. The car, the suit, the watch.
The look. That just leaves the little
things, like happiness, character, point
of view....
MARTIN
It's always the little things.
DEBI
Yep.
Beat.
MARTIN
I'm wondering how you've been. How you
are. I'd like to catch up with you. If
it's possible.
Beat as Debi considers. She spins her
seat to face him.
DEBI
Okay. Let's catch up. You go first.
MARTIN
Well, there's not much to tell.
DEBI
I'm sure you've done worthwhile things in
the last ten years. You've had
experiences.
MARTIN
Bad experiences.
DEBI
You met people.
MARTIN
Bad people.
DEBI
Watched television?
MARTIN
Bad television.
DEBI
(amused)
Jesus. Marty. You're pathetic. It sounds
like you need a Shockabuku.
MARTIN
What's that?
DEBI
It's a swift spiritual kick to the head
that alters your reality forever.
MARTIN
That'd be good.
Beat.
DEBI
What do you want?
The question is open.
MARTIN
I figured I could pick you up tomorrow
around seven o'clock.
DEBI
Let me get this straight, are you asking
me out?
MARTIN
Yes.
DEBI
Unbelievable.
MARTIN
Seven it is.
DEBI
I'll think about it.
EXT. JOSHUA TREE CAMPSITE - NIGHT
Under a crisp and starry night, a man and
a woman sit around a campfire. As we
MOVE CLOSER we see that the woman is
Marcella reading, "Women Who Run With
Wolves." She tends to s'mores on the
campfire, assembles one, and hands it to
MONTY, her young outdoorsman boyfriend.
Monty is perched on a small boulder,
engaged in a Tai-Chi-like ritual, wearing
Patagonia's finest. There is a path of
crystals leading from the fire to the
boulder. In the background is a tent and
a
Nissan Pathfinder. Monty's watch goes
off.
MONTY
Baby, it's eight o'clock.
Marcella gets up.
MARCELLA
Thanks, Monty.
She tousles Monty's hair on the way to
the truck.
INT. TRUCK - CONTINUOUS
Marcella gets in. She shuts the door and
dials the phone.
MARCELLA
Hey there, how'd it go?
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - NIGHT - INTERCUT
Martin sits on the edge of the bed in a
towel.
MARTIN
It isn't done.
Marcella pauses, taking this in.
MARCELLA
This is not good.
MARTIN
I'll do it tomorrow.
Marcella considers this.
MARCELLA
What's it look like?
MARTIN
It's fine.
MARCELLA
You haven't looked at the dossier.
MARTIN
(a little defensive)
I've looked at it.
Martin eyes the vent.
MARCELLA
You have.
MARTIN
Yes. It's the same as usual. Nothing
remarkable about it at all.
MARCELLA
I have to call the client and give them a
reason why you're late.
MARTIN
Tell them my house exploded.
Beat. Marcella doesn't know what to make
of this.
MARCELLA
I'll call them and tell them you're
taking your time. Being a professional.
MARTIN
Okay, call them. Fine. Oh-- And if you
could find out why they double-booked the
job, and who is trying to kill me, and
call me back-- that's be great.
MARCELLA
Will do.
Martin hangs up. He moves up to the air
vent, deciding to get down to business.
He pries it open, and withdraws his
briefcase, putting it down on the bed and
propping it open. He looks at the
unopened dossier for a moment, flips it
over
in his hands, and tosses it on the bed.
BRIEFCASE
We catch a glimpse of Martin's weapons.
Martin picks up the envelope and is
about to tear the seal when
THE PHONE RINGS
Martin drops the envelope and lifts the
receiver.
DEBI
(filtered)
Are you there?
MARTIN
Yes.
DEBI
Pick me up at my father's house at around
seven. And don't be late this time.
Beat.
DEBI
Hello...?
MARTIN
This night, this reunion will be an
important step in our relationship.
DEBI
You're fucking psycho.
MARTIN
Don't rush to judgement until all the
facts are in.
She hangs up. Martin smiles and replaces
the receiver. He turns to the apparatus
laid out on the bed.
GUNS, BULLETS, ETC.
What has been his life is beginning to
look more like death to him. He places
the envelope in the case, then returns
the case to its hiding place.
EXT. DINER - DAY
Lardner and McCullers stake out Martin
from the Country Squire across the
street.
MCCULLERS
I wish he'd do his job already so we
could do our job.
LARDNER
We can't do our job unless he does his
job.
MCCULLERS
Why don't we just do his job then, so we
can do our job, and get the fuck out of
here.
LARDNER
Do his job? I'm not a cold-blooded
killer.
MCCULLERS
Wait a minute--
LARDNER
-Look. You want to kill a Good Guy, but
not be a Bad Guy, you wait until a Bad
Guy kills the Good Guy, and then you come
in and kill the Bad Guy, and then
you're the Good Guy.
MCCULLERS
So if we do his job, we're the bad guys.
If we do our job, we're the good guys.
MCCULLERS
Yup.
They both laugh, as if at some great
joke. Their laughter is caught short by
the
sight of
LARDNER AND MCCULLERS' POV
GROCER
moving into the diner.
INT. DINER - LATE MORNING
Martin sits in a window booth splitting
nutrient caplets into an apple juice and
looking out the window.
GROCER
slides into the booth, across from
Martin.
MARTIN AND GROCER
Martin draws a nasty little PPK pistol
from his waist, and levels it at Grocer
under the table-- but Grocer is already
drawing his pistol down there, and there
is an instant Mexican breakfast stand-
off.
GROCER
Easy, tiger.
A waitress approaches.
WAITRESS
Hi. Welcome to B.I. McCafferty's. My name
is Melanie and I'll be your server
this morning. Let me tell you about some
of our specials. Today we have the
"Alfalfa on My Mind," our feature
omelette. And there's our "Gatsby's West
Egg
Omelette." And if you're in the mood for
something different there's the "I left
my heart in San Franchezie."
Martin and Grocer's eyes remain locked.
GROCER
I want two eggs poached, hash brown well-
done. English muffin for the bread. And
a coffee.
MARTIN
Whole-grain pancakes. And an egg-white
omelette.
WAITRESS
What would you like in the omelette?
MARTIN
Nothing in the omelette. Nothing at all.
The waitress nods pertly and leaves.
GROCER
(re: the omelette)
Come on, live a little. I'm sorry about
the incident yesterday.
MARTIN
No harm no foul.
GROCER
A little misunderstanding among my
associates.
Beat.
GROCER
I told them to kill you and they didn't.
MARTIN
Hard to get good help thee days.
GROCER
But since we're both here, I think it's
time to take a fresh look at our
relationship.
MARTIN
I didn't get into this business to have
"associates." And I don't want to join
your Goddamned union. "Loner--" "Loner
gunman." Get it? "On my own." That's the
whole point. Why don't you become a cop,
or something. You can drink coffee in
the morning.... with friends!
Grocer looks a little hurt.
MARTIN
(easing up)
Look, this is a one-on-one business....
Every time you get to know people, bad
things happen. If it'll make you feel any
better, this is my last job. So what
do you say we put our guns away and
forget the whole damn thing.
Grocer loses it.
GROCER
Fuck you! No scabs! From now on,
everything's regulated!
Long beat as Grocer gets a hold of
himself.
MARTIN
No deal.
GROCER
Fine. But we're not going to let you do
your job. Because we're gonna do it. And
then, after we do your job, we're gonna
do another little job....
MARTIN
(WRY)
Is that right?
GROCER
Yeah-- after I shoot you through the
fucking forehead I'm gonna fuck you in
the
bullethole.
MARTIN
Nice talk, Sugarmouth.
INT. SUITE - BATHROOM - NIGHT
Martin sits at a desk, staring at the
reunion card. He tosses it aside, gets
up,
and moves in front of a mirror. He wears
a crisp black suit and practices his
greeting smile...
MARTIN
(trying on smile)
Yes, I'm a pet psychiatrist. I sell couch
insurance. I test-market positive
thinking. I lead a weekend men's group,
actually. We specialize in ritual
killings. I'm hungry, are you hungry, I'm
hungry, oooh, ooh.
(sarcastic)
Hi, I'm Martin Blank, remember me? I'm
not married, I have no kids and I'd blow
your brains out if someone paid me
enough... So how've you been? Where do
you
stand on The Issues? Are you Left? Right?
Up, down, proud, shamed,
blahblahblahblah--
EXT. DEBI'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING
Martin makes his way up the walk leading
to the front door, holding a simple
bouquet of flowers. He skips up the front
steps and finds the doorbell. After a
moment, Debi answers.
DEBI
Flowers. That's funny.
MARTIN
As long as I get the laugh.
DEBI
(taking them)
Here. Let me put these in some rubbing
alcohol.
She backs into the house, and he follows.
INT. NEWBERRY FOYER - CONTINUOUS
Martin follows Debi into the hall. Both
are enjoying this atavistic ritual.
MARTIN
You look beautiful.
DEBI
Okay... Hold on...
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
through a doorway leading into a den. All
that's visible of MR. NEWBERRY, Debi's
father, is a pair of legs resting in a
Barcolounger.
DEBI V.O.
...Let me get my coat.
MARTIN
I'll just help myself to a cocktail.
DEBI
moves up the stairs and disappears.
MARTIN
looks at the legs, rolls his shoulders,
and heads into the den.
INT. DEN - CONTINUOUS
Mr. Newberry sits in the recliner reading
a Tom Clancy novel. He is a corporate
Aspen-dude-ranch sort with a good head of
hair. He sighs, closes the book on his
knee and looks up to Martin.
MARTIN
Good evening, Mr. Newberry.
MR. NEWBERRY
Good evening, Mr. Blank.
MARTIN
How are you? How's business?
MR. NEWBERRY
Martin, I don't know where you've been
since you abandoned my daughter ten years
ago, and I don't care. It was good that
you left, and I'm glad you did. So what
do you want to talk about? You've grown
up a bit. Maybe I had you figured wrong.
MARTIN
How's that?
MR. NEWBERRY
I visualized you, in a haze, as one of
the slackster, flannel-wearing,
coffeehouse-misanthropes I've been seeing
in Newsweek.
MARTIN
I took the other road. I'm more of a
self-reflective young lion who does
business with lead-pipe cruelty and goes
home to drink light beer in milky-eyes
isolation. I love sports and sex and have
no real relationships with anyone. And
you?
MR. NEWBERRY
Oh, you know me, Martin. I'm the same old
sell-out baby-boomer, exploiting the
oppressed I got shot for at Kent State.
But why don't we have a drink and forget
the whole thing?
Newberry lays down his book, and moves
behind the wet bar.
MARTIN
Why not?
MR. NEWBERRY
So what are you doing with your life now,
son?
MARTIN
I'm a professional killer.
MR. NEWBERRY
That's good.
Debi's footsteps are heard coming down
the stairs.
DEBI O.S.
Okay
Mr. Newberry watches Martin turn and walk
out of the room.
EXT. DEBI'S HOUSE
Martin and Debi pull away from the curb.
INT. CAR - DUSK
Martin and Debi drive through that to
Debi is town, and to Martin is a widening
pool of quicksand.
MARTIN
Do you want to get a drink first?
DEBI
I think they'll probably have booze
there.
MARTIN
Right.
Martin's right hand shakes off of the
wheel a bit. He grips it tighter.
Suddenly, Martin turns the wheel and
pulls into a gas station parking lot,
halting next to a pay phone.
MARTIN
I'll just be a second.
Debi nods, a little confused but going
with it.
DEBI
Okay....
EXT. PAYPHONE - MINUTES LATER
Martin stands at the kiosk next to the
Town Car, mid-conversation.
MARTIN
(defensive)
...Well, I didn't kill anyone, but
someone tried to kill me and the guy in
the
middle got killed. So if I see that guy
again I'm definitely going to kill him,
but I won't kill anyone else. Oh, except
for the guy I was sent here to kill. I
don't know....
INT. OATMAN'S OFFICE - INTERCUT
Oatman treats his patient.
DR. OATMAN
What else? Say more.
MARTIN
Saw my mom... I'm with Debi, and I'm on
my way to the reunion.
In the background, Lardner and McCullers
drive past the station.
DR. OATMAN
Okay. Repeat this after me.
MARTIN
Out Loud?
Martin looks to Debi. She looks up and
smiles. We hear Dr. Oatman's command,
Martin mumbles them back.
MARTIN
...I am at home with the me. I am rooted
in me, who is on this adventure.
DR. OATMAN
Take a deep breath and realize, that this
is me breathing.
MARTIN
This is me breating.
Martin takes in a few breaths.
MARITN
Alright, look. I gotta go.
DR. OATMAN
And don't kill anyone.
MARTIN
Right. Don't kill anyone....
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - SAME
Felix rummages delicately around the
room. He goes to the
NIGHTSTAND
The reunion invite.
FELIX
picks it up and scans it.
EXT. GROSSE POINT HIGH SCHOOL - DUSK
Lardner and McCullers sit it the parking
lot. They watch Martin and Debi pull
into a space.
LARDNER
He's falling for her. Look at him.
MCCULLERS
He using her.
LARDNER
You're wrong. Look at his face.
MCCULLERS
One cannot love and kill.
LARDNER
(defensive)
I love. I kill.
MARTIN AND DEBI
climb out of the car. Martin, breathing
deeply and wiping his sweaty palms,
leans against the car and tries to calm
himself. Eighties music echoes from the
gym.
MARTIN
(to himself)
Shoulda brought my gun.
DEBI
What?
He pulls himself off the car and heads
toward
GROSSE POINTE HIGH SCHOOL
A sprawling red-brick Gothic structure
with many wings. It is topped by
church-like towers. It's scary.
INT. GYM - NIGHT
Martin and Debi enter and pause to take
in the entire scene. A benevolent Ronald
Reagan hangs crookedly above. Basketball
nets are swung back, draped with crepe.
Lights are half-low and the music is
loud. Alumni are dancing.
ARLENE
Welcome back! I'm Arlene Oslott-Joseph.
MARTIN
I'm Martin Blank.
DEBI
Debi Newberry.
Debi heads off into the gym, smiling back
as she strands Martin. Arlene rises
from a card table. They have little to
say. Martin wasn't part of her crowd.
ARLENE
Marty, you haven't changed a bit!
MARTIN
Don't say that.
Arlene gives him a NAMETAG. As a special
torture, the tags have YEARBOOK PHOTOS.
Martin looks at the name tag
uncomfortably.
ARLENE
We had pictures put on, that way
everybody knows who everybody was!
MARTIN
Wonderful.
ARLENE
So, what are you doing now?
MARTIN
Whatever I can get away with.
She smiles at his joke and is immediately
distracted by the next arrival. Martin
moves off...
ARLENE
(to the next person)
Isn't it cute. It's so everybody knows
who everybody was!
He circles the crowded gym. Looking for
familiar faces. He stops at the open
bar.
BATENDER
What can I make you?
MARTIN
Beer.
The bartender gets him a beer. Martin
recognizes a guy at the bar. He is
well-appointed and shiny. He is KEN
ALDRIDGE.
MARTIN
Hey, Ken. How have you been?
KEN
(glancing at Martin's name tag)
Hello Martin. How have you been?
MARTIN
Not bad. You?
Bob Destephano arrives next to them and
orders a drink. Eye contact is made.
KEN
Hello, Bob.
MARTIN
Hey, Bob.
Bob turns slightly toward them. They
continue in their conversation.
KEN
I'm an attorney. I'm with Moss, Brice &
Fromeyer.
MARTIN
That sounds pretty interesting...
Bob wants to join the conversation but
doesn't know how.
KEN
Sometimes. I'm in divorce, mainly. Some
property. Some personal injury.
MARTIN
Those all seem kind of related....
Bob takes another drink and mopes off,
Martin watches him go.
MARTIN
Tragedy makes you thirsty.
Ken chuckles. The bartender arrives with
the bottle. Martin grabs it and begins
to move off.
MARTIN
Well... I have to take this over to Debi.
KEN
Here. Take my card. Wait a
minute...here's a special one. For top-
shelf clients.
Ken hands Martin a Monte Blanc pen with
Ken's title and business address printed
on the shaft. Martin reads it and puts it
in his kerchief pocket.
MARTIN
Thanks.
Ken goes back to listening to the Guys at
the bar.
MARTIN
makes his way through the upbeat crowd of
well-wishers. TERRY emerges like an
inkspot on a clean white whirt, and
intercepts Martin. His angst is barely
under
control as he sidles up to Martin.
TERRY
I don't know, Blank, all these fucking
people, driving me crazy. Look at them
over there, memorializing old times,
acting all like it was something
"life-changing." And the people in the
National Honor Society? The name tags?
Martin shrugs.
TERRY
They have special blue starts on them
like it fucking matters now that they
were
in the honor club ten years ago. I'm
getting fucking nauseous from all this
sentimental bullshit. It's making me
sick.
Terry stops suddenly as if he's finished.
Martin reads this man's nametag.
MARTIN
Why are you here... Terry?
Terry turns on a dime.
TERRY
I wanted to see a couple people. But I
don't want to talk about the old days...
What did we have together, Martin?
Typing?
MARTIN
(remembering)
Drafting.
TERRY
Yeah, I couldn't stand that fucking
class. But I appreciate you helping me
out,
man.
MARTIN
Don't mention it.
TERRY
Yeah, thanks. Well I'm going to try and
get out of here, man. I'll see you
later.
Terry slinks off.
BAR - SAME
Bob Destephano grabs two more scotches
off the bar and turns to leave,
thoroughly morose. In his path, he finds
DAN KORETZKY, the good-looking side of
brainy.
DAN
Bob. Bob Destephano.
BOB
What?
DAN
I'm Dan. Dan Koretzky.
BOB
Computer guy.
DAN
Yeah.... Hey, I saw you at your dad's
dealership the other day.
BOB
I sell BMW's. What do you do?
DAN
Not much, actually. My software company
just went public so I'm just... hanging
out, really.
There's a sudden lull in the
conversation. Bob tries his drunken hand
at
relating...
BOB
Remember high school?
DAN
Sure. Listen. Why don't you join us up in
the grandstands?
Dan points up to a group of happy,
laughing people. Bob walks off shaking
his
head and smiling bitterly.
INT. GYM - LATER
Debi and Martin are seated at a round
table with six others in an area blocked
off for dinner. Plates of gumbo are
arriving and the wine is poured. DARIUS,
an
African-American, is in mid-conversation
with AMY, who looks like she walked out
of a Laura Ashley catalog and sits on the
other side of Martin. DENNIS and MIKE
are two suits in the midst of a non-stop
sports conversation.
MIKE
...You gotta hold the fans responsible,
though, Dennis, because they're the ones
putting up with the mediocre product.
DENNIS
I guess, though, you know, if you look at
it Mike, that park is a beautiful
park, I've gone to that park many times-
I've had the greatest time of my life at
that ballpark and let's face it, I tell
you this, Mike, by the sixth inning, if
you're having the fun you should be
having at Tigers Stadium, you don't even
know what the hell's going on anyway...
They both crack up at this.
ANGLE ON DARIUS, MARTIN, & DEBI
DARIUS
Have you two been together since high
school?
DEBI
No--
MARTIN
--Yes. Actually we just bought that
little Frank Lloyd Wright on Pine
Avenue...
Debi's a social worker and I mow down
insurance claims at Aetna--
DEBI
We haven't seen each other since high
school.
DARIUS
I figured. You two look too happy
together. I shouldn't say that though,
I'm
married.... So, Martin-- what are you up
to these days? What do you do for a
living?
Debi perks up; this should be
interesting.
MARTIN
I'm in pro-active international
relations. It's a very specialized
company. We
execute economic investment
opportunities. Sort of economic clean-
up.... with an
emphasis on personnel. It's boring, you
know, it's boring. I don't like to talk
about it because I don't think what a man
does necessarily reflects who he
is....
Martin begins to draw strange looks from
all over the table. Martin may be in
trouble.
MARTIN
....I've always tried to refrain from a
black-and-white moral lexicon--you know,
good, bad, right, wrong--I've been more
interested in the gray areas.
Silence. Martin pushes on.
MARTIN
But that's no way to live. I guess you've
got to just take the leap of faith.
Believe in something. Fuck it.
DARIUS
Sounds complicated, Martin. Are you
happy?
MARTIN
I just have to close this one last
account. I'd like to just stop now,
today,
but I can't.... It's a step in the right
direction.
DEBI
I don't know, Martin. It sounds like
you're feeling compromised. Live the way
you want. The only thing that's
inexcusable, to me, is cynicism. That's
the
biggest cop-out there is.
Nods of assent come from around the
table. A brief silence, and then....
AMY
But wait. I still don't understand what
you do.
MARTIN
I work at Kentucky Fried Chicken.
Debi suppresses a laugh.
AMY
You do not.
MARTIN
Yes I do.
AMY
You don't...
MARTIN
In the corporate offices.
AMY
Oh...really?
MARTIN
Yeah...
AMY
What do you do?
MARTIN
I sell biscuits to the Southland.
AMY
You do not.
MARTIN
It's what I do.
AMY
You're so funny...
MARTIN
I sell biscuits and gravy all over the
Southland--
AMY
--Stop it--
MARTIN
You know those horsey biscuit gravy
packets? I move all of those--
AMY
--No.
MARTIN
Sometimes we sell them to McDonald's and
just change them to special barbecue
sauce.
Across the table from Martin and Debi,
Dennis turns to Darius.
DENNIS
What do you think about black coaching in
the NFL, Darius? Because I think it's
great.
DARIUS
I don't pay much attention to football.
MIKE
I have to agree with you Dennis. It's
good to see that the owners are willing
to
put the franchise behind a black head
coach or QB when for years in the league
they've been kept out of the thinking
positions and relegated mainly to the
physical game.
DENNIS
But now, you see, you have Warren Moon at
the helm, Cunningham, Art Shell, and
the coach up at Minnesota...
MIKE
Dennis Green. And if you remember, Doug
Williams was the first black man to
prove that on a Superbowl Sunday.
Amy leans in to Martin.
AMY
(to Martin)
I'm teaching art at Cedar Junior High
School.
DENNIS
...Yeah, listen. Where do you stand on
this whole Louis Farrakhan issue...?
DARIUS
(facetious)
I'm a De Klerk man myself.
Debi nods, indicating to the deejay
stand.
DEBI
I'm going over to play some tunes.
Martin watches her walk away.
INT. GYM - GRANDSTANDS - LATER
Dan Koretzky sits with two other FORMER-
SQUARES-turned-handsome-fellas who now
enjoy a confidence that comes with early
investment in Microsoft.
Martin looks out over the milieu below,
enjoying the seene. He eavesdrops on a
group of men from a few rows back.
GROUP OF MEN
DAN
Look at her. There it is. Jenny Slater.
The finest thing that ever walked these
halls.
FORMER-SQUARE #2
I believe she married the state of Maine.
DAN
Yeah, he's around here somewhere. What a
shame. She would have looked great in
my fucking Bentley.
FORMER-SQUARE #3
No, my friends, Jenny Beam. Not only was
she as fine, if not finer, than Slater,
but she had the "bad girl" thing going
for her. And the red hair. C'mon.
DAN
She's a paramedic in Skokie, Illinois.
FORMER-SQUARE #2
You both are mistaken. Jenny Maretti was
the finest. No question about it.
FORMER-SQUARE #3
The three Jenny's. Three Jenny's. All
named Jenny....
DAN
You know what I'm really hoping? That
Jenny Slater gets divorced. And she's
twenty-eight--
FORMER-SQUARE #3
--she's got half the state of Maine--
DAN
She's twenty-eight years old, with two
kids, she's still really really fine, and
I see her at a bookstore or something,
and she sees me for what I was then, and
what I am now: the redemption for all her
failure.
FORMER-SQUARE #3
You mean the redemption for all your
failure.
They ponder this. Martin looks down on
the gym, concentrating on Debi.
BOB DESTEPHANO
Dancing drunkenly, miserable, like an
unbalanced orangutan.
CUT TO:
INT. GYM - DEEJAY BOOTH - LATER
Martin stands by Debi as she sits in for
a set in the deejay booth, on a raised
stage. They are playing an old sophomoric
game.
DEBI
Which would you rather...?
MARTIN
Okay.... Would you rather...commit
yourself sexually to a four-by-nine cell
with
former President George Herbert Walker
Bush dressed as a super-model for a
month, or make love to a otter on crank
for a week?
DEBI
Soft. I'll take the junkie otter,
clearly! I'd let the little beast scratch
and
claw all he wants.... Okay. Would you
rather make love to the candied corpse of
Phyllis Diller--
MARTIN
--She's not dead---
DEBI
It's just a game...! Alright. Candied
Diller, or... wear a hot pork vest across
the desert with a fully digested crab
apple in your mouth?
MARTIN
Wow. I have to give this some thought.
DEBI
No time.
MARTIN
Okay, then. Clearly Candied Diller.
STACEY breaks the moment, looking up at
the two, horrified and unsure at what
she's heard.
STACEY
Marty! Debi! How are you! So many people
came, but I never expected to see you
Marty. Or you Debi... I mean... because
of what your divorce... I didn't mean to
say that. I just meant you look so good.
DEBI
Thank you.
STACEY
Do you think you could play "Too Shy'" by
Kaja Goo Goo?
DEBI
Stacey, why don't you come up here and
take over for a little while?
STACEY
I'd love to.
Stacey nods thanks and makes her way up
into the booth as Martin and Debi make
their way down.
DEBI
(to Martin)
Everybody thinks they know me now that
I'm divorced.
She leads Martin toward the exit.
DEBI
It's time to see you in private.
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY
Martin and Debi walk down the hallway,
alone together.
MARTIN
Even though I left, you never left me.
Not just memory but a substance in my
blood.
DEBI
(smiling)
Like heroin?
MARTIN
Too junky-kitschy. Deeper, deeper.
DEBI
(enjoying this)
Like love?
MARTIN
Could be. The physical substance of love.
Debi stops.
DEBI
I'll accept that. Follow me.
Together they move into what appears to
be the Nurse's Office, and close the
door behind them.
INT. NURSE'S OFFICE
Martin and Debi make wild banshee love.
EXT. PARKING LOT - SAME
Lardner and McCullers watch Felix into
the gym.
MCCULLERS
Looks like someone keeps trying to do our
job for us.
LARDNER
If he does our job, he's our job.
MCCULLERS
I get it.
INT. GYM - SAME
FELIX
steps through the doorway he's standing
in and strolls into the crowded gym. He
wears the standard khaki-pants-blue-
blazer combo, with no nametag. He's
clearly
too old for the class of 1984.
INT. HALLWAY - LATER
Martin and Debi come out of the Nurse's
Office. The post-coital mood is broken
as they hear The Human League's "Don't
You Want Me, Baby?" blasting from the
gym. Martin and Debi tune in on the song
for a moment, unhappy at remembering
that particular moment in pop music
history. Debi looks to Martin, something
must be done about it.
DEBI
I'll be right back....
Debi kisses him. They split up. Martin
walks off, the happiest we've seen
him....
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY
Bob and several others from the muscle-
to-fat crew play a drunken scrimmage with
a papier-mache table ornament footbal
that is coming unwound. Bob quarterbacks
and begins to recite a long, complicated,
and forgotten play. Martin approaches
from behind Bob and glides through the
ad-hoc line-up, continuing down the hall.
Bob yells "hike" as he stares after
Martin, distracted. Bob's rushed upon and
sacked. He lets the papier-mache ball
drop and crack on the floor.
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - LATER
Martin walks down a silent, deserted hall
of lockers and classroom doors. The
only sounds are his footsteps and the
echoed strains of Iggy Pop's "Wild Child"
from the distant gym. He stops at locker
number 1963 and flips the dial:
Right-back left-right again. It opens. He
pops up the steel false ceiling in the
empty locker, fishes his hand in the
opening, and withdraws what he is looking
for: an ancient joint. He holds it up and
examines the now brown and dried
reefer. He grinds it into dust in his
hand.
INT. HALLWAY
Debi comes out of the gym and starts down
the hall, the music changed for the
better.
INT. HALLWAY - SAME
Martin senses he is not alone. He turns
to find Bob Destephano. The big man
holds a glass unsteadily and slurs
slightly when he speaks. Bob is looking
sad
and scary. He leans into Martin
BOB
So. You and Debi. Gonna hit that shit
again?
MARTIN
Fine, Bob. How are you?
BOB
Never better.
MARTIN
Really?
Bob crumbles.
BOB
Ahhh... it's all fucked up. Nothing adds
up to nothing... you work your whole
life, day in and day out-- try to make
sense of it all. One day your
twenty-seven and what do you get to show
for it...
MARTIN
You could've been a contender, huh?
Bob realizes he can't even express his
own tragedy without the use of cliches.
BOB
Smart boy. Real smart. Let's see how
smart you are with my foot up your ass!
I'm
gonna kick your ass!
Martin steps to Bob.
MARTIN
Why would you want to hit me, Bob? Do you
really believe that there's some
stored up conflict that needs resolution
between us? We don't exist. There's
nothing between us. So who do you want to
hit, Bob? It's not me.
Bob slumps against the lockers, deflated.
BOB
What am I gonna do?
MARTIN
What do you want to do?
BOB
I want to be an actor.
MARTIN
Then express yourself, Bob.
Bob frowns, trying to think of a way to
express himself.
MARTIN
(catching him)
Be honest....
Bob backs up and lets out a huge, drunken
caveman scream, tehn stops abruptly,
and smiles.
BOB
Later, Martin.
Bob backpedals down the hallway and out
of sight. Martin watches him stumble out
of the hallway and bang through the doors
of a stairwell, disappearing.
INT. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS
Bob slams through the doors and begins to
stumble down the stairs. He encounters
Debi, on her way up. He glances at her
but does not break stride. Debi gives him
wide berth, and quickens her pace up the
stairs...
INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Martin watches the doors swing to a stop.
He exhales and relaxes... AND THEN
Spin-pivots on his right heel, as a BURST
from a silenced pistol pierces the
space where his head was a split-second
before/ As he spins around, his right
hand withdraws Ken's give-away pen from
his kerchief pocket, pops the cap off,
and drive the pen up and through the
throat of his attacker--
FELIX
impaled through the throat on the pen,
his head snapped back.
MARTIN AND FELIX
are frozen for a moment. Blood runs
quickly down the front of Felix's body,
off
of his shoes, and on to the floor. The
stairwell doors band open. Martin's head
turns toward the sound. His eyes lock
onto
DEBI
who is frozen, horrified for a moment.
She flees.
MARTIN
looks back at
FELIX
Dead.
THE FLOOR
A growing pool of blood.
MARTIN
Looks around wildly, holding Felix up
against the lockers. Above the lockers is
a plastic banner proclaiming
"SPANISH CLUB FIESTA FUN-RAISER SATURDAY
JUNE 1"
MARTIN
rips it down from the wall with his free
hand, wraps it around Felix, stuffs the
body into his open locker, and slams it
shut. He pulls off his shoes and socks,
puts a sock over each hand like mittens,
and wipes up the small pool of blood.
He stuffs the socks into his pockets,
takes off down the hall, and bangs
through
the doors.
INT. GYM - GRANDSTANDS - MOMENTS LATER
Martin blasts through the upstairs doors
to the grandstands looking for Debi
below. She is nowhere to be found. He
scans the party in progress-- It is the
same frame of image as the one in
Oatman's office. In the middle of the
floor,
Terry slowly turns up to meet Martin's
eyes.
MARTIN
pulls the doors shut, and takes off down
the hall.
INT. HALLWAY - MINUTES LATER
Martin opens his locker, withdraws the
corpse, and hefts it over his shoulder.
INT. STAIRWELL - A MINUTE LATER
Brick-walled, darkly lit, and narrow.
Martin bounds down the steep steps with
his load.
INT. BASEMENT LOCKER ROOM HALLWAY -
MINUTE LATER
Martin hustles toward a cage door in
front of him. He kicks through it and
dumps
Felix into a canvas laundry cart on
casters and begins rolling.
INT. PUMP AND FURNACE ROOM - A MINUTE
LATER
The door bangs open and light pours into
the room from behind Martin. He
negotiates the cart over the dirt floor
and stops next to the furnace that heats
the swimming ppol. He pauses and looks to
the ceiling: the music from the
reunion pulses into the floor above him.
Martin picks up a large metal bar and
works open the door on the hulking cast-
iron furnace. A white-hot blaze roars
within.
INT. GYM - NIGHT
The party is winding down. A harried-
looking Martin walks in and looks around
once more for Debi-- nothing.
MARTIN'S POV
of the Deejay booth. It is empty.
He moves over to the bar and joins Ken
Aldridge. He motions to the bartender who
opens a beer for him.
MARTIN
Have you seen Debi Newberry?
KEN
Nope.
They both look around at the last of the
reunion.
KEN
The more things change, the more they
Goddamned well stay the same.
MARTIN
I guess.
Before Ken can get started again...
MARTIN
Take care of yourself, Ken. Thanks for
the pen.
Martin walks out of the gym.
EXT. HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS
Paul is leaning against his Beemer,
having a smoke.
PAUL
What the hell happened to you?
MARTIN
I was catching up with Bob Destephano.
PAUL
As long as you had a good time.
Beat. Martin scans the lot for sign of
Debi.
PAUL
What now? Chase the girl?
There is a beat of silence. Nothing seems
worth saying.
MARTIN
It didn't work out.
PAUL
That's too bad.
MARTIN
I have to get my head back into my work.
PAUL
Work's good for the soul.
Martin gets up to leave.
MARTIN
When you see Debi, tell her I'm sorry.
PAUL
See you in ten years.
Paul watches him leave. He almost stops
him, but thinks better of it.
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - NIGHT
Martin hunches over his briefcase that
lays open on the bed.
Martin pulls
THE DOSSIER
from the briefcase. It's seal is broken,
but the contents remain enclosed.... He
withdraws the package and dumps the
contents on the bed. His face registers
muted shock.
MARTIN
Dumb fucking luck...
THE CONTENTS
include various photos of MR. NEWBERRY,
Mr. Newberry with Debi, and the house.
The photos are mingled with official-
looking papers including credit reports,
medical records, etc.... Newberry's life.
He cocks his head toward the door
anticipating a... KNOCK. He freezes, then
plucks a gun tapped under a desk, and
moves toward the door, pointing. Halfway
to the door, his face and body slacken.
He lobs the gun onto the bed. With
everything gone wrong, there is nothing
left to defend. He goes to the door and
opens it, body relaxed, expecting a
bullet...
Debi moves past him into the room. She is
completely calm.
DEBI
He was trying to kill you, right>
MARTIN
Yes.
DEBI
Not the other way around...?
MARTIN
No.
DEBI
Is it something you've done?
MARTIN
It's something I do...
Beat.
MARTIN
...Professionally...
Beat.
MARTIN
...About five years now.
DEBI
(stunned)
Get the fuck outta here.
MARTIN
Seriously, when I left, I joined the Army
and took the service exam. They found
my psych results fit a certain profile. A
certain "Moral flexibility" would be
the best way to describe it.... I was
loaned out to a CIA-sponsored program.
It's called "mechanical operations." We
sort of found each other....
DEBI
You're a government spook?
Martin says nothing.
MARTIN
I was, but no... yes... I was before, but
now I'm not. It's irrelevant, really.
The idea of governments, nations, it's
mostly a public relations theory at this
point, anyway. But I'll tell you
something, until about five months ago, I
really enjoyed my work.
DEBI
Jesus Christ!
MARTIN
Then I started losing my taste for it.
Which usually means your time is up. But
then I realized it was something entirely
different.... I started getting the
sneaking, dark suspicion that maybe there
was... meaning to life.
DEBI
Okay. Great, Martin, that's just great.
Meaning to life... Mmm....
MARTIN
Like, that there's a point? An organic
connection between all living things.
DEBI
Let me help you along, Martin. You're a
sociopath!
MARTIN
(defensive)
A sociopath kills for no reason. I kill
for money.
DEBI
You never could have kept this from me.
MARTIN
I was leaving.
DEBI
That's probably a good idea.
MARTIN
Will you come with me?
DEBI
I'm staying here.
MARTIN
What if I come back?
DEBI
I'll hide.
She goes for the door.
MARTIN
Don't go.
She stops at the door. Slowly, she turns.
DEBI
You don't get to have me. You are a
monster, I'm a human being. We're not
going
to mate.
MARTIN
You don't understand....
DEBI
That's because I speak human, and you
speak monster.
Debi bolts out of the room. Martin is
left alone.
Martin looks over at his gear on the bed.
After a beat, he walks slowly over and
surveys his tools. He picks up a cleaning
rag and begins to go over the weapons,
absently singing to himself....
MARTIN
"What's up Doc? What's cookin'? What's up
Doc, are you lookin'....?
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - DAWN
Morning light comes through the slit in
the curtains, picking up four or five
exquisitely clean guns are laid out on
the bed, almost geometrically spaced.
Martin lifts one at a time, checking
their bores and actions....
INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - MORNING
Lardner and McCullers gear up. They each
finish loading the last of many
clips....
EXT. MICHIGAN HIGHWAY - MORNING
Grocer and Company, not in a Ford
Passenger Van, veer off onto an exit
ramp.
Grocer has assembled a team of about
nine. They draw different guns from their
kit bags and begin loading....
INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - SAME
Lardner and McCullers jam clips into
their service autos and knock the
slides....
INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - SAME
Martin finished loading his guns, and
puts them in his case. He shuts it and
moves for the door. On the way out he
stops and looks himself in the mirror
before exiting.
EXT. THREE DIFFERENT ROADS - INTERCUT
Each car whooshes by camera, on its way
to the inevitabel....
INT. EASTWEST HOLDING COMPANY - INTERCUT
Marcella has a cordless tucked between
her shoulder and ear, and holds a
two-gallon gas can. She moves from room
to room pouring gasoline onto the
computers, desks, and piles of paper
stacked on the floor. She adds a splash
to
her copy of "Women Who Run With the
Wolves."
MARCELLA
I'm bringing down the office now.
She picks up her hard drive and smashes
it on the floor. It's cathartic.
INTERCUT WITH MARTIN IN THE TOWN CAR -
MARTIN
I'll put things right. Then I'll find
you.
Silence on the line.
MARCELLA
(apprehensive)
Uh... why?
Martin finishes his weapons check, and
pulls out the dossier.
MARTIN
Don't worry. I left you a little
comething under your desk.
Martin hangs up.
Marcella goes to it and pulls loose from
underneath a shrink-wrapped brick of
$100 bills, probably a $100,000 or so.
MARCELLA
All right!!
INT. MARTIN'S TOWN CAR
Martin makes his way down the road to the
Newberry's. In the distance, he sees a
lone figure jogging on the shoulder, away
from him.
INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME
Grocer and Company are parked off to the
side, watching Newberry, in the
distance, jog toward them. A SNIPER
prepares to blow Newberry's head off.
INT. MARTIN'S TOWN CAR - SAME
As he approaches the figure, he
recognizes it as Newberry, he
accelerates.
INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME
Grocer spots Martin's car speeding at
Newberry.
GROCER
Oh shit....
EXT. ROAD - SAME
Newberry stops jogging and turns to face
the Town Car bearing down on him. His
face goes slack, expecting to be creamed.
INT. TOWN CAR - SAME
Martin roars straight at Newberry, his
engine shrieking. As the distance between
them turns from yards to feet... Martin
swerves hard, just missing Newberry and
comes to a halt next to him, blocking the
Sniper's line of fire. After a moment,
Newberry opens the passenger door.
NEWBERRY
What the fuck is the matter with you?!
MARTIN
Well, I was hired to kill you. It's what
I do, and come to think of it, I told
you that, but.... Okay. I'm not going to
do it. Get in the car.
He does. They drive on.
MARTIN
It's either because I'm in love with your
daughter, or because I have a
new-found respect for life. Or both. But
I don't know.
INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME
Grocer and company watch in amazement.
GROCER'S P.O.V.
of Martin's car disappearing into
Newberry's long and wooded driveway.
GROCER
GROCER
That punk is either in love with that
guy's daughter or he has new found
respect
for life.... Let's go.
EXT. NEWBERRY HOUSE - SAME
Martin pulls up in front and stops. Both
men scramble out and head toward the
front door at a quick clip. Newberry is
shaken; Martin seems at ease, at home in
his element.
NEWBERRY
Why? I build cars! They're paying you to
kill me? Why?
MARTIN
It was a cost-cutting effort. They can't
afford a recall.
NEWBERRY
It was a leaky sunroof! A design flaw! I
reported a leaky sunroof! You want to
kill me because of that?
MARTIN
It's not me! Why does everybody think
it's personal?!
They go through the front door and shut
it behind them.
INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME
Grocer drops the van into gear and heads
toward the driveway.
INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - SAME
Lardner and McCullers approach the scene.
They get within viewing distance in
time to see Grocer's Town Car turn into
the driveway.
LARDNER
We'll go in through the woods.
INT. NEWBERRY HOUSE
Martin's briefcase is open on the large
oak table. The contents of the dossier
are spilled out onto the table. Newberry
and Debi watch him, dumbstruck, as he
draws a huge Desert Eagle automatic and
jerks back the slide. He turns to Debi.
MARTIN
I was sitting in my house on prom night
wearing that Goddamned rented tuxedo, a
corsage in one hand, a bottle of
champagne in the other. So I was just
sitting
there, and then the whole night flashed
before my eyes, and it struck me like a
bullet in the head-- I realized, finally,
and for the first time, that... I
wanted to kill somebody. So I figured
because I loved you so much, that'd it'd
be a good idea if I didn't see you
anymore. But now I'm different.
He turns and points the gun at the front
door and FIRES two shots through it,
leaving two baseball-size holes in the
door.
Martin bolts out of the room toward the
back of the house. Debi and Newberry run
as fast as they can away from Martin.
Newberry opens the front door, preparing
to rush out with Debi. They stop at what
they see:
NEWBERRY'S & DEBI'S P.O.V.
As ASSASSIN lies on the porch, shot dead
through the door by Martin. IN one hand
is a gun, in the other is a Fuller Brush
kit. Two men, GROCER and an ASSASSIN,
clamber out of van, their guns rising up
fast toward us.
Debi pulls Newberry inside, slams the
front door, and locks it. They dive away
just before ten rounds hit the door from
outside.
INT. KITCHEN - SAME
Martin rushes toward the back door which
is already opening. A barrel comes
through and FIRES at Martin. Martin pulls
back behind the refrigerator and
returns FIRE. An ASSASSIN comes through
the door in a crouch and takes cover
behind the cooking island. Martin,
yelling back to Debi...
MARTIN
I'm in love with you. I know we can make
this work!
MARTIN
rushes toward the island, grabbing an
iron skillet off the range, and holds it
up like a crossing-guard stop sign. He
steps toward the hidden Assassin just as
the Assassin rises SHOOTING. The skillet
takes two rounds before Martin hammers
the Assassin's head with it. Debi and
Newberry arrive in the kitchen.
NEW ANGLE - LOW DUTCH
Martin bashes the skillet into the
Assassin's skull, which is beyond our
view.
He rises spattered with blood and looks
at Debi.
MARTIN
I was afraid to commit to a relationship,
but now I know I'm ready to make it
happen.
Martin drops the skillet and grabs
Newberry and Debi gently be the wrists.
MARTIN
I just need time to change.
He ushers them past the bludgeoned corpse
and up the back stairs. He spins and
FIRES twice back down the stairs at
another ASSASSIN coming up, blowing his
arms
off.
HALLWAY
He leads them quickly.
MARTIN
It's not easy for me. I was raised to
close off, to control my feelings...
He takes them into a bedroom, and BLOWS
AWAY, an ASSASSIN coming in through the
window, emptying his auto. Martin pushes
Debi and Newberry into an adjoining
bathroom. He backs out through the
doorway.
MARTIN
Lock the door.
They do. Martin starts away, but stops to
get something straight.
MARTIN
I wasn't raised in a loving environment.
(beat)
But that's not an excuse. It's a reason.
INT. FOYER
Martin corners the banister and springs
half-way down the stairs, then hears the
front door begin to open.
MARTIN
My soul was empty--
Martin jams in another clip, and chambers
a round. He sees Grocer beginning to
slip in.
MARTIN
--and it's up to me to fill it.
Martin FIRES the twelve-round clip into
the door until the slide locks back
empty again. Grocer back out fast. Martin
hears a gun REPORT from upstairs and
moves back toward it, tossing the spent
weapon.
INT. BEDROOM
An ASSASSIN slams his body against the
bathroom door while Debi and Newberry
scream from within. Martin flies at him.
The Assassin wheels on Martin FIRING.
Martin pivots out of the line of fire,
still moving forward. He takes hold of
Assassin's neck and snaps it. Martin
drops the corpse.
MARTIN
(through the door)
It's okay. It's Martin
The door begins to open revealing Debi
and Newberry.
MARTIN
I know what I do isn't moral, per se, but
if you could just look past that,
you'd see a man worth loving.
GROCER O.S.
Don't listen to him, he's a professional.
Martin stops short and cocks his head
toward Grocer's muffled voice coming from
the vent. Grocer continues...
GROCER O.S.
You're breaking my heart down here,
Blank. I can't shoot through the tears.
Martin, incensed, bends down and takes
the gun from the dead man. He runs out of
the bedroom, gun poised for a kamikaze
firefight....
EXT. NEWBERRY HOUSE - SAME
Lardner and McCullers are poised outside
the front door, about to enter the mix.
McCullers peers through the window.
LARDNER
Did you see Blank in there?
MCCULLERS
No....
LARDNER
Good. For a second there I thought we
were in trouble.
INT. NEWBERRY FOYER - CONTINUOUS
MARTIN
reaches the top of the front stairs to
find Grocer heading up the stairs at him.
They lift their guns at each other to
FIRE, when they hear...
LARDNER AND MCCULLERS
power through the front door, guns
BLAZING at floor-level, ala Butch and
Sundance.
Martin and Grocer, above, spin on them
instinctively, and FIRE, killing them.
Grocer dives off of the stairs and rolls
out of view.
KITCHEN - INTERCUT
GROCER
heads up the back stairs.
MARTIN
works his way toward Grocer, moving with
stealth toward the kitchen.
GROCER
hears him and starts back down.
Martin dives behind the cooking island
just as Grocer comes out of the stairwell
blasting. They unload at each other as
Grocer runs a pattern across the kitchen,
FIRING at Martin, crouched, who BLASTS
back. Grocer vaults himself through the
air toward a serving window from the
kitchen to the dining room, still firing.
C.U. - MARTIN'S GUN - SLOW MOTION
The last casing floats out of the chamber
into the air, and the slide on the
auto locks back-- empty.
NORMAL SPEED
GROCER
Flying through the air disappearing
through the shuttered serving window, his
flight carrying him past a television
that sits on a lazy susan.
MARTIN AND GROCER - INTERCUT
Martin and Grocer sit on the floor, backs
up against opposite side of the
counter-- Martin in the kitchen and
Grocer in the dining room. The hulking
old
television sits on the counter above and
between them.
Martin looks up and spies the
TELEVISION
GROCER
....How about I sell you two rounds for a
hundred grand a piece?
MARTIN
Okay.
Martin takes out a checkbook, and tears
one free. He wads it into a loose ball
and tosses it over the counter.
BALLED CHECK
sails over the television and comes down,
bouncing off Grocer's head and into
his lap.
MARTIN
There you go. I left it blank.
GROCER
Excellent. Here they come.
Grocer pulls two rounds from the clip of
his semi-automatic and pushes the clip
back into the gun. Grocer arcs the TWO
BULLETS into the air.
MARTIN
rises and springs at the television,
gripping it. The TWO BULLETS sail past
his
head.
GROCER
begins to rise from his side of the
counter, cocking his gun.
MARTIN
puts all his weight and motion behind the
television. Martin and the television
careen off of the counter toward Grocer.
GROCER
gets off one round before
MARTIN
flies onto Grocer, smashing the seventy-
five pound television over his Goddamn
head. Martin sails past the collision,
landing on his back in the dining room.
He rolls over to see
GROCER
Body crumpled, neck is snapped, head
encased in the shattered picture tube. He
is dead.
MARTIN
runs up the front stairs, retrieving the
spent gun he discarded earlier, and
heads into the bedroom.
INT. BEDROOM - MINUTES LATER
Martin opens the bathroom door. Inside,
Debi sits on the edge of the tub, her
face in her hands. Newberry kneels with
his arms around her. Martin takes this
in, and walks back into the bedroom.
Newberry stands and follows him out.
MARTIN AND NEWBERRY
MARTIN
a bloody, tattered mess, wipes off the
gun and puts it into Newberry's hand.
Newberry, in total shock, grips it.
Martin looks past Newberry.
MARTIN'S P.O.V.
Of Debi, head in hands.
MARTIN V.O.
Debi... will you marry me?
Debi doesn't look up. After a moment, she
reaches out, head still down, and
closes the bathroom door....
INT. RADIO STATION - DAY
Outside is a Michigan autumn. Debi sits
at her console, bringing in the mike as
she fades out of a tune...
DEBI
This is WRFN Radio Free Newberry cause
that's what it does. Bringing you New
Ones for the Nineties, a fresh new format
designed to pull you out of what's
come before, and reel you into what's
coming soon--
THE PHONE CONSOLE
lights up with an incoming cal....
DEBI
I tell you what's coming soon for me, or
at least what I dreamed this morning in
that weird time just before you actually
wake up. But first this commercial.
Back after this....
She pushes a couple of buttons, slaps a
cartridge in a player, and answers the
phone. We hear the commercial over the
studio monitor:
ANNOUNCER
Don't miss the show of the season at
Bilkin Community Center! "Brigadoon!" A
musical for all ages! "Brigadoon,"
starring Carol Plummer, Thomas Canchola,
Bob
Destephano, and Lee Ordman!...
Debi picks up the phone.
DEBI
RFN...
Her face goes slack as she listens... not
good, not bad... Then she hangs up
slowly. The commercial ends. A moment of
dead air, then she snaps to.
DEBI
Hey out there.... Okay.... I'm going to
finish up that fantasy later. First I'll
give you an hour of nonstop music.... If
I don't come back on after that-- well,
nevermind.
Debi turns on a reel-to-reel, and leaves.
EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE - DAY
Debi pulls up and gets out. She begins
toward the door but stops dead when she
sees
MARTIN
sitting on the front steps.
Debi moves slowly up the walk and sits
next to him on the porch. They sit,
gazing out over the grass and trees
beyond. After a while....
DEBI
This will never work out.
She turns to him, serious.
DEBI
You kill people,
Beat.
MARTIN
I have no illusions about the future.
What is, is. We make choices. And we
become the sum total of our choices. I
can live with that.
DEBI
Other people can't.
Martin looks at her earnestly... And
smiles ever so slightly. She does the
same,
and then just a little wider. He the
same. They turn back out to face the
lawn,
and they share a laugh....
THE END