
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
TEASER
FADE IN:
INT. COMMAND CENTRAL - NIGHT
The command center is quiet as LON types away on one of the
computers, all alone. He suddenly SLAMS his fist on the
terminal.
LON
Dammit...
He rubs his face with both hands as FRANK enters.
FRANK
What's going on?
LON
I've been trying to locate the
source of the anomalous portal
activity.
FRANK
From the data you got on the one
James came through?
LON
Exactly.
FRANK
Any luck?
LON
Absolutely zero. It's frustrating,
no matter what I try... it's like
trying to catch a falling leaf.
Even trying seems to make what
you're after get further away.
Frank cocks an eyebrow.
FRANK
You're analogizing. It's time to
take a break.
LON
I can't. If indeed some external
force is causing these portals to
open, portals that the sphere is
powerless to control, need I remind
you, we must find it. If we don't,
we could have demons attacking us
right inside this very building.
FRANK
God knows it would be the first
time for that.
LON
Ah, yes, sarcasm, always helpful.
Frank puts his hand on Lon's shoulder.
FRANK
Seriously. Come upstairs, have
something to eat, a drink or
something. Relax for a minute.
(beat)
Consider that an order.
Lon nods reluctantly. They walk together out of the room.
LON
Relax, relax, relax, that's all
anyone seems to do round here.
FRANK
It's just, you seem to like work so
much we'd feel bad if we took any
away from you.
Lon gives Frank a wry smile as we:
CUT TO:
INT. FRANK'S DINER - MOMENTS LATER
Lon and Frank enter the empty diner via the kitchen. Lon sits
at the counter. Frank reaches under the counter and pulls out
a bottle of liquor and two glasses.
LON
You keep alcohol under the counter?
FRANK
(waving the bottle around)
Well, I didn't pull this out of my
ass.
LON
Do you even have a liquor license?
FRANK
Now, see, it's questions like that
which get us in trouble
LON
Trouble?
FRANK
Yeah. That's an area where we have
to throw around words like "laws"
and "criminals" and "the diner
shutting down."
LON
So no, then.
FRANK
Tell the man what he's won.
Frank opens the bottle and pours a small amount into each
glass. He pushes one over to Lon who looks at it
apprehensively.
Frank nods insistently toward Lon's glass. Hesitantly, Lon
picks it up. Frank picks his up and clinks it into Lon's. In
unison, they down the glasses' contents.
A beat and then both men cough and sputter. While Frank
appears to have enjoyed his beverage, Lon makes a disgusted
face.
LON
(nodding toward the
bottle)
Are you sure that didn't come from
your ass?
Frank chuckles.
There's the sound of FEET ON STAIRS. MIKE enters from the
upstairs apartments and sits down at the counter beside Lon.
FRANK
Hey, Mike.
MIKE
Hey.
Lon looks at his watch, then at Mike. He sighs loudly. Mike
notices.
MIKE (CONT'D)
(to Lon)
Something wrong, princess?
LON
No, it's just... ten o'clock, is
all.
MIKE
I'm sorry. Am I interrupting your
"special-time"?
LON
No, no.
They sit uncomfortably for a beat.
LON (CONT'D)
It's just you were complaining all
day how you have such a huge test
tomorrow and yet here you are, at
ten o'clock at night, not studying,
just sitting around.
Mike turns on his stool to face Lon. Frank backs away slowly.
MIKE
For your information, "Dear Abby,"
I'm taking a break, seeing as how
I've been at it since we got back
from excoriating that dragon-thing--
LON
That was a Pu-Nahb demon, and we
didn't excoriate it. Excoriation is
the act of tearing off a thing's
skin. We disemboweled it.
MIKE
Which took up valuable study time!
LON
Combating the forces of evil is
more important than your dream of
becoming a bloody artist!
Mike stands up quickly, knocking the stool across the room
and scuffing the diner floor. Frank winces.
MIKE
I happen to be a great artist,
buddy!
LON
Just because you're good at
something, doesn't mean it's
important. But you're too damn
immature to realize that you have a
greater purpose than drawing funny
talking cats for insurance
companies!
Mike's eyes narrow, clearly about to blow his stack.
MIKE
You think I'm just a freakin'
child! "Oh, yeah, Mikey, you'll be
a great artist one day, mmhmm."
Patronizing little nancy.
Lon stands up and turns away. He pulls on his coat and heads
for the door.
FRANK
Where are you going?
Lon pauses and turns back to face Frank.
LON
You're the one that said I should
take a break. Suddenly, I feel in
need of a long one.
With a final glare at Mike, Lon EXITS the diner through the
front door. There's a beat as the bell over the door jingles
and Mike sighs, loosing the tension in his muscles.
Mike and Frank stand in awkward silence for a beat. Frank
looks around the diner at nothing in particular.
FRANK
Well, I'm going to bed.
He walks from behind the counter and goes upstairs. Mike sits
down and SLAMS his hand down on the counter. Off his annoyed
expression we:
CUT TO:
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE DINER - NIGHT
Lon is walking across the street, huffing, his arms crossed.
As he walks across our field of vision, the camera PANS AWAY
to the OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET. A car is parked parallel to
the sidewalk.
INT. CAR INTERIOR - CONTINUOUS
An OVER THE SHOULDER shot, of a FIGURE watching Lon. All that
can be seen of the person is its right shoulder clad in a
coat and its gloved hand on the steering wheel.
EXT. STREET OUTSIDE DINER - CONTINUOUS
As Lon turns the corner, the vehicle pulls away from the curb
and begins to follow him.
BLACKOUT.
END OF TEASER
ACT ONE
FADE IN:
INT. CHUCKY'S BAR - NIGHT
CU on the "Chucky's" marquee on the wall. Though not upscale
by most people's definition, the bar is as close to "classy"
that one can get in a small town.
The camera PANS right to Lon who is sitting at the bar,
nursing a golden-brown drink in a glass. The BARTENDER steps
up in front of Lon, wiping the bar down.
BARTENDER
You look like you've had a rough
day, buddy.
LON
(looking up)
You could say that.
He downs his shot.
LON (CONT'D)
Another.
The barkeep pours the drink and looks Lon over. He's clearly
seen this before.
BARTENDER
Let me guess. Big fight?
LON
Yeah.
BARTENDER
Tough break. Wife? Girlfriend?
LON
(looking up; sputtering)
What? No! Why would you... why
would you think that?
BARTENDER
(shrugs)
I seen that look on men's faces
before. Usually a dame is involved.
Lon has finished this shot and taps his glass. The bartender
again fills the shot glass.
LON
Well, no. It wasn't a "dame". Just
a... a co-worker.
He takes another shot. He's in a hurry not to be sober
anymore. The bartender gives Lon a knowing smirk.
BARTENDER
You and this "co-worker" close?
LON
No. We don't-- never really...
talk, he and I. For some reason
he's just so... frustrating.
BARTENDER
Yep. Been there, my friend.
The bartender takes the bottle of drink and sets it down on
the bar.
BARTENDER (CONT'D)
Hey, I've had a I gotta go wipe off
tables, but if you want some more,
help yourself.
LON
I thought you were supposed to--
(Lon hiccups)
--cut me off eventually.
The bartender gives a lopsided grin and shrugs.
BARTENDER
That sort of thing is bad for
business.
He walks away, leaving Lon to drink, which he does. After a
moment, a BRUNETTE comes over to Lon. Her shapely body is
encased in a sexy black dress. Short brown hair frames her
face which, along with a pair of large glasses, partly
obscures her striking features. She sits down on the stool
next to him, a glass in her hand.
BRUNETTE
Hi.
LON
Hello.
BRUNETTE
I heard you talking.
LON
(looks to where she had
been sitting)
From all the way over there?
She gives a flirty shrug.
BRUNETTE
I've got good hearing. You noticed
where I was sitting?
LON
In my line of work you... notice
things.
BRUNETTE
(smiling, shifting her
shoulders)
I'm sure you do.
She settles in closer to him. A gold locket dangles
seductively between her ample cleavage which is on full
display.
BRUNETTE (CONT'D)
Where does a big... strong... man
like you hang his whiskey-soaked
hat?
LON
Oh, God. I don't even want to
contemplate going home right now.
BRUNETTE
(smiling wider)
Mmmmm. That's good to hear.
LON
Why's that?
BRUNETTE
I was hoping maybe you and I could
hang out a little more. Maybe back
at my place?
The mysterious woman's finger traces down her chest. Lon's
eyes follow it down to her cleavage. He quickly realizes
where his gaze lies and averts his eyes. He looks off to the
side and cocks a flustered half-smile.
LON
Sure. Yeah. I mean, yes. I would
like that.
The Brunette grins.
BRUNETTE
One more drink for the road?
LON
Sure.
The Brunette grabs the bottle off the counter. Lon glances
away for a beat, looking nervous and excited, as his new
acquaintance refreshes their drinks. She then picks up both
glasses and hands Lon one. They touch their glasses together
in a silent toast to fornication and drain the shots.
CUT TO:
EXT. CHUCKY'S BAR - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
The Brunette is supporting Lon on her shoulder, showing
surprising strength. Lon's slumped, sort of out of it, and
acting loopy.
LON (CONT'D)
Do... do I still have a left side?
BRUNETTE
Yes, sweetie.
LON
It's only, I can't feel it.
BRUNETTE
It's there.
LON
You sure?
BRUNETTE
It's dragging along behind us
pretty nicely now.
LON
I feel odd.
BRUNETTE
You're pretty drunk.
LON
No, no. I don't get drunk.
He stops moving.
LON (CONT'D)
I-- is everything always this
swimmy?
The Brunette takes his hand and pulls him a little further.
They've finally reached the Brunette's car, and she unlocks
the doors. She puts Lon in the back seat, laid down.
BRUNETTE
It's nothing personal, it's just
that I don't want you throwing up
in my car.
She closes the door and leans up against the side of her car.
Instantly her demeanor changes. Her stance becomes that of a
predator with prey in its sights.
In one graceful motion she reaches up and pulls off her brown
wig, revealing her true dark blonde hair underneath. She
tosses her glasses on the ground and turns so that her face
is in the light of a street lamp. It's a familiar face:
HESTER the vampire, last seen after the dusting of her
vampire lover. She smiles, licks her canine teeth, and gets
into the driver's seat of the car.
FADE TO:
EXT. FRANK'S DINER - MORNING
Establishing shot of the diner.
CUT TO:
INT. FRANK'S DINER - CONTINUOUS
Mike sits at the bar, drinking a cup of coffee. VI sits next
to him, TAMSIN at a table a little further away.
MIKE
...and that should pretty much fill
up my day. What are you gonna do
after classes?
VI
Oh, you know. I was just gonna go
out... shopping.
MIKE
Well, have fun-- wait.
Mike squints his eyes suspiciously at Vi.
MIKE (CONT'D)
There's nowhere to shop in this
town.
Vi averts her eyes from Mike's gaze, trying to appear casual.
VI
Is too. Secret places. They don't
like your kind.
Mike raises one eyebrow, now positive he's on to something.
MIKE
They don't like out-of-towners?
VI
(nervous)
N-no. They're ho-homophobic.
Vi cringes. The jig is definitely up.
MIKE
(slams his hand on the
table)
You're going to the Roundhouse to
flirt with Rick!
VI
Am not!
MIKE
Are too!
VI
How'd you know?
MIKE
You women all speak in code. "Going
shopping" means you're hunting for
men, "Secret place" means it's a
guy I like too, "homophobic" means
"keep your gay, gay man-hands off
my slice of Boston Cream Pie!"
VI
Well, yes. But now that you've
cracked our carefully crafted
female language, I'm going to have
to kill you.
MIKE
Bring it.
VI
What? You think you can take me?
MIKE
You weigh like thirty pounds!
VI
But I'm superstrong and much faster
than you. Slayer. Remember?
Mike spreads his fingers apart, and thin lines of blue
lightning spread between them.
MIKE
(playful)
Bring it, bitch.
FRANK (O.S)
Ah, the joyful lilting of little
children.
Frank descends the stairs, stretching his arms over his head.
He looks over at Tamsin, who's staring at the table,
disinterested. He sits at the booth she's occupying, across
from her, and puts his hand on the table.
FRANK (CONT'D)
How you doing?
TAMSIN
(blah)
Fine.
Frank frowns.
FRANK
You know you can't lie to me,
Tamsin.
TAMSIN
(finally looking up)
He was here, Frank. He was right
here, I held him!
At the bar, Mike looks down and Vi bites her bottom lip.
TAMSIN (CONT'D)
For two days he was...
FRANK
It wasn't him.
TAMSIN
(seriously)
He was close enough.
(beat)
My face is probably all red... I'm
going to go to the loo and freshen
up.
She gets up, wiping away the tears which threaten to spill
out, walks to the ladies room door, and enters inside. Frank
gets up from the booth and moves around behind the counter to
his usual spot.
FRANK
So, uh, guys... where's Tyler?
VI
Went to work.
MIKE
He's a responsible adult with an
actual job. He had to leave early.
FRANK
(smugly)
Responsible adult. Wonder what
that's like?
(just realizing)
And speaking of responsible,
where's Lon?
MIKE
(rolling his eyes)
Probably still out moping because
the kids at school were mean to
him.
VI
What?
MIKE
We had a fight and Lady Di ran off
to regain her composure.
Frank looks at his watch and frowns lightly.
FRANK
He should have been back by now,
though. He usually likes to get an
early start at being pompous.
MIKE
Whatever, dude. I'm sure he's fine.
Just too stubborn to share a room
with me.
Frank nods and begins cleaning the counter with a rag.
CUT TO:
INT. HESTER'S BEDROOM - DAY
We are CU on Lon's face-- he takes up our entire view. Lon
appears to be sleeping peacefully, and as the scene opens he
JERKS AWAKE.
LON
(mumbled; from a dream)
No. Father! I don't want any bloody
cheese...
He blinks a few times to clear his eyes.
LON (CONT'D)
Where the hell-- oh, yes. The bar.
The woman.
(beat)
A woman!
He smiles a cocky smile. Then he turns his head to the side.
ANGLE ON: A pair of high high-heeled shoes on the floor. PAN
ACROSS the floor over a black dress, a black lace bra and
matching set of panties, and finally a pair of stockings. The
camera continues UP THE BEDSIDE TABLE, and Lon finally sees
the black wig lying next to a bedside lamp. His smile fades.
LON (CONT'D)
What...?
We finally PULL BACK off the bed to reveal all of Lon-- he's
still fully dressed and is handcuffed to the bedposts.
Suddenly Lon begins JERKING his arms about, trying to free
himself.
LON (CONT'D)
Oh, God! Oh, God!
He strains with his upper body to lift himself up, but can't.
His kick wildly, but it does little good. Then the DOOR TO
THE ROOM OPENS. Lon turns to face his captor. Hester steps
through the doorway. Lon GASPS.
LON (CONT'D)
No...
Hester JUMPS across the room in one leap and lands on the
bed. She moves to straddle Lon, and grabs his face with one
hand. She leans down close to his face.
HESTER
Was it good for you too?
She smiles wickedly and runs her tongue across her lips as
Lon turns his face from hers.
BLACKOUT.
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
INT. HESTER'S BASEMENT
Lon has been tied to a wooden chair, hands behind his back,
feet bound to the chair legs. There's a chalk circle on the
pavement floor in front of him, and around the circle are
bowls of various herbs, roots, hair, and a bowl with a few
drops of blood in it. At the end of the circle furthest from
Lon is a dead lamb. Hester stands across the basement from
Lon, staring at him.
LON
(nodding towards the
circle)
What is all this?
HESTER
You can't figure it out?
LON
(studying the circle)
You've got... netherroot. A rare
form of Father Dominic's Cord. If
I'm not mistaken that's the last
surge of blood from a dying heart.
And a freshly-slaughtered lamb, I
assume as a symbol for a vessel to
be filled--
(his eyes widen)
A bodiless resurrection?
HESTER
(smiling)
Exactly.
LON
You're trying to bring back your
mate!
HESTER
And let me tell you, it'd have been
a hell of a lot easier if you and
your commandos hadn't set that
house on fire scattering his ashes
to the winds!
Lon squints his eyes, thinking for a moment.
LON
You don't need a human sacrifice
for this sort of thing, just some
part of the body being restored.
Why am I here?
Hester moves closer to Lon, pulling a rolled-up scroll from
her pocket and unfurls it under Lon's nose.
HESTER
Because I can't read the damn
incantation!
Lon looks from the paper up to Hester- Once, then twice. A
smile cracks his lips and he BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER. Hester
looks on, uncomprehending.
HESTER (CONT'D)
What? What's so funny?
LON
(gasping for breath)
You think-- ahaha-- that I'm going
to help you? Heh heh.
HESTER
I'm still lost.
LON
What would possibly possess me to
assist you in bringing back from
Hell a conscience-less murderer?
HESTER
(glaring)
You'd best do as I say, Brit.
LON
Never going to happen.
Now it's Hester who grins. She straightens up.
HESTER
And here I was praying you'd say
that.
She walks off, leaving Lon, no longer laughing. He looks
scared at her last comment.
CUT TO:
INT. COMMAND CENTRAL - DAY
Frank is standing in front of a computer bank, typing,
looking up occasionally to check a spreadsheet taped beside
the monitor. He stops typing and rubs his eyes. He checks his
watch.
FRANK
Okay...
Frank huffs and heads up the stairs into the diner.
CUT TO:
INT. FRANK'S DINER - CONTINUOUS
Frank walks to the stairs that lead to the upper apartments.
FRANK (CONT'D (CONT'D)
(shouting)
Mike! Vi!
There's a beat and then the sound of FOOTSTEPS coming down
the stairs. Mike enter first, dripping wet and wearing a very
short pink robe with "Vi" embroidered on the right lapel. Vi
follows, dressed in a long bathrobe, with a green mask of
face cream covering her visage.
MIKE
What's going on?
Frank can't respond, he's merely staring at the two and their
ramshackle appearance.
VI
(beat; waves hand in
Frank's face)
Uh? Frank?
FRANK
What the hell goes on in this
house!?
MIKE
No classes this afternoon. Some
kind of teacher seminar.
VI
So I decided to take a spa day.
FRANK
Okay.
(to Mike)
What's with...
(motioning to Mike's
attire)
...this?
MIKE
I was in the shower! I couldn't
find a towel.
Vi takes a nice long look at Mike's naked legs and grins.
FRANK
I just want to know, is this going
to become a habit?
Mike seems to contemplate this for a beat.
MIKE
You know, it's growing on me.
He examines his legs.
MIKE (CONT'D)
Plus the breeze is just... well,
gosh, it's just swell.
Frank nods.
FRANK
Perfect.
The DOOR to the diner OPENS and Tamsin walks in.
TAMSIN
Hey, guys, what's-- oh, and look,
no pants.
MIKE
I'm trying out a new thing.
FRANK
No, no, no. You are not trying out
a new thing. No new things. This no
pants... "event" is going to be
isolated.
MIKE
Hard-ass.
Tamsin looks at Vi.
TAMSIN
(excited)
Oh! Spa day?
VI
Yes.
TAMSIN
Done the feet yet?
VI
I was just getting to them, do you
wanna come up and help?
TAMSIN
(as the girls move to the
stairs)
Sure! You know, I read this
magazine the other day, and it said
if you put--
FRANK
(shouting)
Hey!
Tamsin and Vi turn to look at Frank. Mike stops looking at
his legs and focuses.
FRANK (CONT'D)
Lon's been gone since last night.
We need to go find him. So you--
(to Mike)
--go put on some damn clothes. And
you--
(to Vi)
--stop playing Elphaba and get in
your ass-kicking gear.
Mike and Vi hurry up the stairs, seeing that Frank's slipped
into commando-mode. Once they're gone, Tamsin gives Frank a
smirk.
FRANK (CONT'D)
What?
TAMSIN
Elphaba? I never fancied you as a
"Wicked" fan.
Frank crosses his arms defensively.
FRANK
A guy can't have some culture?
Tamsin cocks her eyebrow as we:
CUT TO:
INT. FRANK'S SUV - DAY
Frank and Tamsin sit in the front, the now-groomed-and
dressed Vi and Mike in the back.
MIKE
What's the plan? Are we just going
to drive around this half-horse
town and pray real hard that we
find a soggy, hung-over Brit lying
on the ground?
FRANK
No. I've got a thing here--
(thumps the dashboard)
--that will lead me right to him.
MIKE
How?
FRANK
There's a tracking device in his
car.
MIKE
(bewildered)
I'm sorry?
Vi and Tamsin don't look shocked.
FRANK
Yeah. Standard, for an operation
like this.
MIKE
It's standard to spy on your
friends and LoJack their cars?
FRANK
Look, kid, don't go all PATRIOT Act
on me. I didn't plant a bug on his
dashboard and I don't have cameras
in his bedroom.
TAMSIN
(under her breath)
Not that there'd be anything to
see.
FRANK
I just thought knowing where his
car was might be useful one day.
(mock surprise)
And what do you know!
Lon's lost and this little blinking
light is leading us right to him!
Mike leans back in the car, clearly unsatisfied. Frank drives
on.
CUT TO:
EXT. CHUCKY'S BAR - PARKING LOT - DAY
Frank's SUV pulls up beside Lon's car in the parking lot.
Frank parks the car and the team exits the vehicle. Vi peers
into the window of the car.
VI
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.