The right to produce this as a dramatic work in any form is reserved by the author. (c) 1996 Richard Katz
Not in traditional screenplay format, but pretty close. There are some anomalies of format introduced by going to HTML. RK 1997
If you didn't really want to read a screenplay, you can go Back to Richard Katz's homepage
Not sure? Want to read a synopsis of I-5, so you can decide if you want to peruse the full text? These things do take a lot of imagination, to be able to play the movie in your head just from reading words on a page. A synopsis helps, but it's only a crutch.
I-5 ....A screenplay.© 1994 Richard Katz 510 236 1865
FADE IN
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAY 0 #
KAREN Schuler and other SECURITIES DEALERS in hardhats are at a construction site, listening to PUBLIC RELATIONS MAN from Coastal Light and Power. Trucks and CONSTRUCTION WORKERS are in the near foreground. The containment tower under construction looms in the background. Karen is doing due diligence with a pair of opera binoculars.
PR MAN
...in September of this year, one hundred days after this plant goes on line with low power, essentially all of the deferred costs of construction become immediately applied to current expenses. The P.U.C. has agreed with our Management,that A-F-U-D-C...
(glances at BREEN)
ZOOM IN on containment tower through Karen's binoculars to Construction Workers high in the air on a suspended platform. A WORKER picks up a large open end wrench and passes it to a second WORKER, who unbuckles his safety harness to reach for it. One end of the platform drops two feet. Workers hold on. A second later, Workers and equipment are thrown to the side, and plunge three hundred feet to the ground.
CUT TO:
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #
Karen, STEINER, and Steiner's PROTEGE are approaching a rented limousine. CHAUFFEUR holds the front passenger-side door for Karen. Karen, Steiner, and Protege all wave heartily to BRINKMANN, who waves back from the open window of his own limousine. Cadillac ambulance speeds by going to the plant.
CUT TO:
INT. BRINKMANN'S LIMOUSINE - DAY 0 #
Brinkmann rolls up his window, makes a call over his radiotelephone while reading a bound document labelled Sincere.
BRINKMANN
(into radiotelephone)
Lillian?
LILLIAN
(over radiotelephone)
Yes, Mr Brinkmann?
Page 2.
BRINKMANN
(into radiotelephone)
Lillian, we're going to go ahead with the underwriting.
CUT TO:
INT. LILLIAN'S OFFICE IN NYC -DAY 0 #
LILLIAN
(into telephone)
Yessir.
(beat)
Mr Brinkmann,
Lillian looks out the window at film crew on the street corner many stories below.
LILLIAN
(continued; into telephone)
that Director from the film company called, and he wants to use your office. In the movie. He said
BRINKMANN (O.S.)
(interrupting; over radiotelephone)
No. They can't use my office.
CUT TO:
INT. BRINKMANN'S LIMOUSINE - DAY #
BRINKMANN
(into radiotelephone)
They can use the trading room. Hello? Hello? Lillian?
Brinkmann "hangs up", reads the Wall Street Journal tombstones while watching Wall St. Week on his TV. He pours himself an Ocean Spray, and watches a trainload of piggybacks go by.
CUT TO:
EXT. OVERLOOKING NUKE PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #
Through-the-binocular SHOT of Karen getting in the limo. REVEAL BOB RICHARDS, who is keeping an eye on Karen for her employer.
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT PARKING LOT -- DAY 0 #
Chauffeur closes Karen's door
STEINER V.O.
What do you think?
KAREN V.O.
Same old shit. All these utility jerks are a day late and about a billion dollars short.
Page 3.
STEINER V.O.
Yeah, yeah. So what's the deal?
CUT TO:
INT. HIRED CORPORATE LIMOUSINE -- DAY 0 #
KAREN
Hundred and ten million tax-exempt pollution control facilities revenue bonds issued by San Luis Obispo County, initial annual rate seven point one two five percent.
GUARD WAVES LIMO OUT OF THE PLANT AT THE SECURITY GUARD SHACK.
STEINER
Yeah, yeah. So how much do we clear on this one?
KAREN
(looking backward over the car seat)
Average four and a quarter percent.
(beat)
I can't believe people actually buy this crap after we make the offering.
STEINER
Yeah, yeah, yeah. So -- how much?
KAREN
Thirteen million.
STEINER
See? This nuclear stuff is hot!
KAREN
They all screw up in the real world. Washington Public Power Supply is dead in the water, Midland is just about dead, Seabrook is dying.
(looking through windshield)
I just hope one of these mechanical marvels doesn't crap out before our little army of retail brokers can unload all this -- paper!
(beat)
Our "Account Executives". And their "clients".
(beat)
Christ, that'd be a mess. I wonder if these nuclear geniuses carry insurance?
(looking over the carseat again)
What the hell was going on with the ambulance?
Steiner has fallen asleep. Karen turns back to the windshield, casting a glance at the interesting-looking chauffeur.
Page 4. NB Got the idea on the format? Good. I'm not gonna go thru another 118 pages of this script and click the mouse a zillion times to make the outdents characteristic of Action, Parentheticals, and Dialogue; and the Dialogue Bold. I think you've got the idea by now. What follows is just the way the script was digested by Claris Home Page. If you read this far, you're hooked on the content anyway and the hell with the form. If you're a Producer, email the author and get a nicely formatted copy of I-5 in the mail.
PROTEGE O.S.
No problem. The Feds put a ceiling on liability for nuclear plants.
KAREN
A ceiling! The Price-Anderson Act -- a five hundred sixty-seven million dollar deductible.
PROTEGE O.S.
You couldn't prove it by me, Karen. We're sure glad you keep on top of all that technical stuff. We're getting together with the Shearson people for some California cuisine. How about you?
KAREN
No. Thanks anyway. I just want to get back to the hotel.
(opening her briefcase, getting to work)
I'll catch up with you Monday.
(to Chauffeur)
I'd like to go the Century Plaza.
Chauffeur nods. Limousine cruising down Highway 101.
KAREN FANTASIZES SEXUALLY ABOUT THE CHAUFFEUR.
KAREN (cont.)
Will there be an extra charge?
CHAUFFEUR
I can run you by there. It's on my way home.
KAREN
You drive this home?
CHAUFFEUR
I own it.
CUT TO:
EXT. LIMOUSINE CRUISING PAST THE SANTA BARBARA COAST -- DAY 0 #
KAREN V.O.
That's interesting. You from L.A.?
CHAUFFEUR V.O.
I'm from New York. My family is from Kenya.
KAREN V.O.
So am I. Queens. My family was from Grenada.
Page 5.
CHAUFFEUR V.O.
All riiight! Grenada!
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
A room in the Century Plaza Hotel. The door opens inward, the lights are switched on, TITLES ROLL, Karen enters. She sets her briefcase on the bureau without opening it, takes off her jacket, tosses it on the spare bed, and goes into the bathroom immediately to RUN A TUB OF WATER, O.S. After taking off some more of her clothes, she unlocks the briefcase to get something to read in the tub. She picks out a report with a color photograph of a nuclear reactor containment vessel on its cover and "Coastal Light and Power -- 1981......Annual Report."
KAREN
(sarcastic)
Fascinating.
Karen also picks up the alumni magazine from her Ivy League college. She disappears into the bathroom, toting the telephone and magazines. The water is adjusted a bit, and she settles into the tub, WITH A SPLASH, O.S. PAGES RUSTLE. Occasional SPLASHING. END TITLES.
KAREN (O.S.)
Hello there, Operator? What's the area code for Oakland, California?
(pause; synthesized voice says Four One Five)
QUICK DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #
A classic 1950's vintage stainless steel semitrailer has both of its end doors wide open. Lights are blazing inside. The interior of the trailer has been tastefully outfitted as an office, with a window or two, a desk, a wood stove, telephone, file cabinet, etc. Oddball bits of trucking paraphernalia are on shelves or hanging on hooks -- chains, ropes, spare parts, an extra set of air horns. MUFFLED RUMBLING NOISE of a Cummins diesel is heard, in the yard just outside the office trailer. Espresso coffee pot on the wood stove.
Overdrive magazine on back of chair.
BARTON Mullridge is sitting at the desk at the far end of the trailer, wearing a Western hat, boots, jeans, and a tee shirt that says "Mongoose Freight Lines", with a picture of a mongoose riding on a flatbed tractor-trailer.
The telephone RINGS, LOUDLY, its jangle echoed by a LOUD BUZZER out in the yard. Barton jumps with a start when the buzzer goes off.
Page 6.
BARTON
(into telephone, businesslike)
Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. What can we do for you today? uh, tonight?
KAREN O.S.
This is Karen Schuler. Is Barton Mullridge there?
A SPLASH is heard, O.S.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Wait a minute. I'll get'em.
KAREN O.S.
Thank you.
Another SPLASH.
BARTON
(into telephone, in his more normal voice)
Hello. Karen?
KAREN O.S.
Barton! Is that you?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Yeah. Long time no see.
KAREN O.S.
I'm in California. In Los Angeles.
Lots of SPLASHING.
BARTON
(into telephone)
You're visiting?
KAREN O.S.
I'm out here on business. I...I thought of you when I saw your name in the Alumni Gazette. It says here you're living in Oakland.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Ten years!
Barton is fiddling with some toy trucks on the desk.
KAREN O.S.
I just thought I would call.
Sounds of telephone SHIFTING from ear to ear.
Page 7.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Nice of you. Maybe we can get together.
KAREN O.S.
Good idea. What are you doing tomorrow?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Geez, I have to work.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
Karen is standing about in her room with no clothes on at all, holding a towel and a telephone.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Oh, that's a shame.
(pause)
What kind of work do you do? Are you doing any chemistry these days?
BARTON O.S.
Naaah.
(pause)
Trucks. I'm in the trucking business.
KAREN
(into telephone)
What kind of trucks?
BARTON O.S.
Tractor-trailers. Semis. Eighteen-wheelers. You know.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Oh, you mean big trucks!
BARTON O.S.
Yeah, a big truck.
KAREN
(into telephone)
You're a truckdriver?
CUT TO:
INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #
Barton no longer has his feet propped up on the desk, and is busy tossing various travel things in a very utilitarian travel bag. Barton picks up a large caliber semiautomatic pistol from its hiding place behind the desk.
Page 8.
He ejects the magazine and inspects the breech, then NOISILY checks the SLIDE ACTION.
KAREN O.S. (cont.)
What was that?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Oh, nothin'.
(beat)
One of the drivers called in sick.
Barton tosses the pistol and spare loaded magazine in the travel bag.
KAREN O.S.
Oh.
BARTON
(into telephone)
He was the only guy that could handle this stuff. Besides me. So I'm gonna take the load to L.A. Myself. Tonight.
KAREN O.S.
That's too bad. What is it?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Just freight.
KAREN O.S.
I'm leaving for San Francisco tomorrow.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
Karen has gotten dressed for bed in a short cotton nightshirt.
KAREN (cont.)
(into telephone)
But I don't really have to be there until Monday.
BARTON O.S.
For work?
KAREN
(into telephone)
Yes.
BARTON O.S.
And what do you do for a living?
KAREN
(into telephone)
Securities. I'm a bond analyst.
Page 9.
BARTON O.S.
Oh.
(beat)
What kinds of bonds? Bail bonds?
CUT TO:
INT. CHEAP HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
Bob Richards is holed up in a cheap room nearby Karen, snooping on her conversation.
KAREN O.S., V.O.
(bugged telephone voice)
No.
BARTON O.S., V.O.
(bugged telephone voice)
Savings bonds? Performance bonds? Municipal bonds?
KAREN O.S., V.O.
(bugged telephone voice)
Nooo.
BARTON O.S., V.O.
(bugged telephone voice)
Revenue bonds? Treasury bonds? Epoxy bonds? Bond futures? Indexes? I give up.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
KAREN
(into telephone)
Utility bonds.
BARTON O.S.
Sounds great. Like power plants, you mean. Like you're on Wall Street.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Like, yeah, I'm on Wall Street.
INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #
BARTON (cont.)
(into telephone)
Hey, Karen, you were always pretty game to try something new. You want to go for a ride in a truck? Could you hold on for just a minute? Thanx.
Barton puts down the phone, takes his stereotypical trucker's chain-drive wallet out of his pocket, opens it, and counts upwards of ten hundred dollar bills.
Page 10.
He removes the screws from the back of one of the spare air horns, takes out a few more hundred dollar bills, and replaces the screws. He sits back down in his chair, removes one boot and one sock, counts the money from the air horn, and installs it in his boot.
CU Barton's business card. Barton checks off and initials a rate agreement he has been avoiding, agonizing over a memorandum and Bill of Lading from someone in his office, about a 15% vs a 25% discount.
BARTON
And why in the fuck should I give this fucking guy a discount?
(reading aloud and tilting the paper)
"Barton: Because ...otherwise... we will...lose the account."
He grimaces, and gives the shipper the 25% off (changes the 1 to a 2) then throws something against the wall in anger. Barton picks up the phone again.
BARTON (cont.)
(into telephone)
I'm back.
KAREN O.S.
I never rode in a big truck before. That sounds like it might be fun.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Listen, I'll be in L.A. tomorrow. I'll meet you somewhere, we'll pick up some freight for a return load, we'll drive back together. You'll get a big kick out of it. See how the trucking biz works.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT 1 #
Karen is climbing into bed.
KAREN
(into telephone)
I'll bet I will. I'm at the Century Plaza. You know where that is?
BARTON O.S.
Yeah. I'll meet you out front. Ten A.M.
KAREN
(into telephone)
See you then. Bye.
Page 11.
Karen goes to bed, while
CUT TO:
INT. BARTON'S OFFICE -- NIGHT 1 #
Barton is headed out the door for work.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Bye.
Barton pours a cup of espresso into a demitasse cup, shoulders his bag, turns off all the lights except one, and closes up the trailer from the outside.
CUT TO:
EXT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING CO. YARD -- NIGHT 1 #
Barton walks out into the dark trucking yard. Diesel RUMBLE. A tractor is hitched to a flatbed trailer loaded with an exhibition of large minimalist steel sculpture. Barton checks the ropes for tightness and bumps the tires
BARTON (cont.)
(surveying the heavy duty fine art and sipping espresso)
Fuckin' junk.
One of the ropes is a bit loose; he unties it, and reties it. Load is festooned with red flags and WIDE LOAD signs.
BARTON (cont.)
(imitating)
"What's it good for?" "You gonna melt that scrap iron down and make somethin' useful out of it?"
(not imitating)
Well, shit, I may not know what I like, but I know what art is.
Barton empties the demitasse cup, leaves the cup in the mailbox.
CUT TO:
INT. BARTON'S TRUCK CAB -- NIGHT 1 #
Barton switches on the running lights and dashboard illumination. CU of dashboard, ZOOM in on air pressure gauge.
CUT TO:
EXT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING CO. YARD -- NIGHT 1 #
The truck takes off with a GNASHING of gears and DIESEL NOISE, then abruptly stops. Barton walks back to the locked warehouse
Page 12.
to grab a small parcel stamped "Rush" from a pile of freight packages. He returns to the truck.
CUT TO:
EXT. DESERTED STREET IN HIGH-TECH INDUSTRIAL PARK -- NIGHT 1 #
At the first stop sign, Barton stops the truck outside a high-tech-looking building. Barton leaves the truck idling in the middle of the street, and walks quickly up to one of the industrial condos. He tosses the "Rush" package in the mailslot of a door labelled "Designer Genes".
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. FREEWAYS -- NIGHT 1 #
Driving from Oakland to Los Angeles. Prominent Transamerica Pyramid. Prominent windfarms at Altamont Pass.
Miles-to-go markers are displayed between Oakland and L.A. on I-80 and I-5. The journey has one static interlude, when Barton stops at the Brake Check Area at the top of the Grapevine to check that his air pressure guage still reads steady when the brakes are applied.
On the last leg of the Grapevine, another truck loses control on the 6% grade part and crashes into a fiery heap near Castaic.
Day is breaking.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. L.A. CITY STREETS -- DAYBREAK DAY 1 #
Several L.A. street signs and scenes are displayed between I-5 and the L.A. County Art Museum.
CUT TO:
EXT. L.A. COUNTY ART MUSEUM -- DAYBREAK DAY 1 #
DIESEL NOISE. Barton unties the load. He gets back in the cab, shuts off the motor, gets the pistol from his bag, checks to make sure the first shell is chambered, parks it behind the seat, and goes to sleep.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. L.A. COUNTY ART MUSEUM -- DAY 1 #
A WORKMAN approaches Barton's rig parked in the museum yard. Early morning QUIET. The Workman bangs on the door and walks away. Two forklifts and a crane drive up noisily and unload the pieces (which are all elements of one large piece) MONUMENTAL MUSIC. SCULPTOR is present. Well dressed MUSEUM ART DIRECTOR and MUSEUM DOCENTS stop by on a tour. Unloading action rocks the cab.
Most of the piece is already in place, delivered in previous loads; this load completes the sculpture.
Page 13.
One of the forklifts cruises up to the driver's side window of the cab.
Barton's hand and paperwork are extended, the Art Museum Forklift Operator signs on the dotted line, the paperwork is retracted, and the forklift drives away. Barton climbs out.
BARTON
(gazing long at the sculpture)
Fuckin' beautiful.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. DRIVE-UP HASH HOUSE IN L.A. -- DAY 1 #
Barton drives up to a beanery on a wide street in L.A., doubleparks the rig with the motor idling, and orders a bacon and egg sandwich and coffee to go.
While he is waiting for it he spots three guys in suits break up their quick meeting and go out to their three cars and drive away. Barton runs back to his truck, and takes all three parking spots. He calls his own office collect from the pay phone.
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY O.S.
Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. What can we do for you today?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Hi.
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY O.S.
Hello Barton. Where are you?
BARTON
(into telephone)
L.A. I just dropped at the Museum.
CUT TO:
INT. MONGOOSE TRUCKING YARD DESPATCH OFFICE -- DAY 1 #
The Mongoose despatch office is housed in a converted tractor-trailer, very spare and well ordered, with a stack of today's mail and last night's demitasse cup. MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY is a plainly dressed young woman. The converted tractor-trailer has a wood and metal porch, with a few chairs for DRIVERS just outside the door. A MECHANIC is working over a Cummins 262 out of frame, in his work area next to the trailer. Prominent "Truckers Welcome" sign.
BARTON O.S. (cont.)
I'm gettin' a bite to eat and then I'm goin' to the docks to get the container and then to pick up the potter's clay for Bernie.
Page 14.
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY
(into telephone, glancing at the computer)
Just right.
BARTON O.S.
Everything O.K.?
DRIVER wheels in, hauling a container, and parks with his engine idling just a trucklength or so from the porch.
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY
(into telephone, hand over ear)
Just fine. No problems.
BARTON O.S.
O.K. Talk to you later.
MONGOOSE DRIVER #2
The boss pulled a load?
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY
(into telephone)
Oh, Barton, that awful insurance guy came by. To check a number or something, on that old Peterbilt parked out back. He wanted us to jack it up so he could look underneath it.
MONGOOSE DRIVER #1
Drove it himself, with that old White a'his. Out on the boulevard!
MONGOOSE DRIVER #2
That load'a scrap arn?
MONGOOSE DRIVER #3
I'll be go'ed to Hell!
Drivers quiet down.
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY
(into telephone)
George told him that if he was so good at numbers, bein' an insurance man and all, then he ought to be able to just figure it out. Or else he could just make some numbers up out of thin air like they usually do.
Drivers laugh their asses off.
MONGOOSE DRIVER #2
Hey! Ask'em if he remembered to put a bottle of Geritol in the tank.
cut to:
Page 15.
EXT. DRIVE-UP HASH HOUSE IN L.A. -- DAY 1 #
Barton collects his food.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCK WASH -- DAY 1 #
Barton and his truck get cleaned up.
CUT TO:
EXT. ENTRANCEWAY OF CENTURY PLAZA HOTEL -- DAY 1 #
Karen is waiting in front of the hotel. Bob Richards is reading the newspaper (Daily Variety) in the lobby. Inside is a copy of Closed Circuit Monthly, with a picture of a remote pan and zoom unit. Barton's empty tractor- trailer rounds the corner. CONCIERGE eyes it nervously. The truck RUMBLES to the entranceway. Barton sets the parking brakes (HISS OF AIR), climbs down, and walks around to meet Karen. Barton looks pretty beat after driving all night.
CONCIERGE
Sir, the entrance for deliveries is in the rear of the hotel.
BARTON
(shouting)
Gotta speak up.
CONCIERGE
(shouting)
The truck entrance is in the back.
BARTON
(gesturing toward an empty trailer deck)
I was looking for the passenger dock. Is this it?
KAREN
Hi! You're right on time.
Concierge steps back a few feet.
BARTON
(opening the passenger-side door)
Hi! How ya doin'? Make it look good. Everybody's watching, and this is L.A. Like this.
Barton scales the side of his cabover to put Karen's luggage on the doghouse between the seats. Karen climbs in and settles down like a linedriver. Barton gets through three or four gears on the way out.
LONG SHOT of rear of truck going down the driveway, with plain black mudflaps, faded safety stripes, a large pintle hook, air gladhands, and a Mongoose logo.
Page 16.
KAREN (O.S.)(V.O.)
You didn't shave.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. CONTAINERIZED STEAMSHIP PIER -- DAY 1 #
Approaching a huge stack of forty foot sea containers in a yard in Long Beach, the Queen Mary in the background.
A huge forklift rouses itself, ROARS over to the neatly piled containers, and tophandles a gleaming aluminum box off the top of the stack. The truck interposes itself between the stack and the forklift which positions the forty foot box gingerly on the forty foot trailer. Karen observes. A Jeep-like vehicle roars up smartly. EQUIPMENT CONTROL PERSON speaks briefly to Barton, changes his paperwork, motions to Forklift Operator, who moves the 40' container rearward and jams a 20' container ahead of it.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUTSIDE CONTAINER YARD -- DAY 1 #
Barton leans on a bright orange winch bar to tighten one of the tiedown straps across the top of the container. Barton gets back in the cab.
KAREN
What do you need two of them for?
BARTON
Make more money. About twice as much. Second one's all gravy.
CUT TO:
EXT. LOS ANGELES FREEWAY -- DAY1 #
Barton's rig negotiates a six lane freeway. FREEWAY NOISE. The cars are constantly cutting in and out, and causing the truck to drop gears.
BARTON
Yer surfin'.
CUT TO:
EXT. LOADING DOCK -- DAY 1 #
Barton is standing on the loading dock of a clay manufacturer in City of Industry. The truck is backed up to the dock with the 40' container doors latched open. Forklift brings up a pallet of sacks of dusty chemicals. Barton extends a twenty dollar bill to the Clay Plant Forklift Operator. Forklift lifts the pallet and drives it on into the truck.
SHOT of Forklift Operator maneuvering a few pallets of clay into the 20' container that's been jackknifed around to receive them.
CUT TO:
Page 17.
EXT. OVERPASS ON I-5 -- DAY 1 #
Driving past Pasadena, Saugus, the Grapevine, Magic Mountain, etc.
A FATHER on rollerskates and his KID on a sixteen inch bicycle are perched on a freeway overpass watching the freeway. Prominent I-5 sign. Father has on a tee shirt from a trucking company, and a chain-drive wallet. Kid is wearing a helmet. Traffic rolls underneath them; the tops of the trucks are only a few feet below. While they are at their observation post, a COWBOY TRUCKER #1 in a chrome rig BLOWS his horn just as he blasts under the freeway. Kid jumps about two feet, looks a bit scared, hugs his Father's leg, then smiles.
FATHER
I'll bet you can make this guy coming up honk his horn. Go like this.
Father yanks on imaginary air horn. Kid imitates Father. Nothing happens as COMPANY DRIVER zooms underneath.
FATHER
That guy's a robot. Try this one. Do it like you mean it.
Kid tries again. COWBOY TRUCKER #2 makes eye contact with the kid and BLASTS his horn.
Kid laughs, yanks on imaginary air horn at the next one. COWBOY TRUCKER #3 makes eye contact with Kid and HONKS his horn.
CUT TO:
INT. I-5 NORTHBOUND-- DAY 1 #
POV through Barton's windshield.
KID (O.S.)
How come some of these guys are robots?
Characteristic HONK of Barton's truck.
CUT TO:
EXT. DRIVING PAST PYRAMID LAKE ON NORTHBOUND I-5 -- DAY 1 #
Barton and Karen leave the truck by the side of the road, run across eight lanes of fast freeway, skip down the steep embankment, and hop into the crystal clear pebbly lake. Nude, within site and SOUND of the freeway. Back up the embankment, change clothes, and back on the road. Barton grabs his winch bar and re- tightens the lumber straps. Barton STARTS the Diesel; exhaust drips downward before the stack drafts properly. Karen's nose twitches.
Page 18.
BARTON
Funny. You actually get to like the smell of burnt Diesel.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT.I-5 NORTHBOUND -- DAY 1 #
AERIAL MEDIUM SHOT. A baking hot spring day in California's Central Valley, five miles south of Kettleman City offramp of Interstate Five.
AERIAL LONG SHOT. A SECOND TRUCK half a mile back is gaining at ten or so miles an hour.
This truck is a black FREIGHTLINER CONVENTIONAL THREE-AXLE TRACTOR, lots of chrome and a flashy paint job, pulling an all- aluminum-construction FLATBED TRAILER loaded with dark blue fifty-five gallon drums, tied down with ropes and veeboards. Truck hauling drums begins to overtake truck hauling container.
BARTON O.S.
(shout)
Hey, check this out. Sonuvabitch must be turning eighty miles an hour.
KAREN O.S.
(also shouting)
Where?
TRUCK hauling drums overtakes Barton's truck hauling container. NOISE is augmented by V12 Detroit Diesel of second truck. THRU THE CLOSED PASSENGER WINDOW SHOT OF RON (the drumhauler) and REVERSE SHOT THRU DRIVER'S WINDOW OF BARTON -- The two Drivers acknowledge each other after the fashion of truckdrivers everywhere.
BARTON O.S.
This Freightliner comin' up in the hot lane. Pullin' a flatbed. He's in the rearview. No, not your rearview, mine. Never mind, here comes...there he goes.
KAREN O.S.
That's a nice truck. How come he's going so fast?
BARTON O.S.
I don't know. Brand new truck, gotta license to fly. Pedal to the metal, gonna boogie boogie boogie.
(pauses, not as loudly)
I sound like a goddam CB radio.
TRUCK hauling drums is now ahead of and to the left of BARTON'S truck.
KAREN O.S.
Look at that load. It's so neat.
Page 19.
CLOSE SHOT of front of both trucks. Headlights of cabover (in right hand lane) are turned on and off twice in rapid succession.
BARTON O.S.
Neat?
KAREN O.S.
Yeah, neat. Everything is so tidy.
CUT TO:
INT.I-5 NORTHBOUND THRU WINDSHIELD OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- DAY 1 #
BARTON's POV. Tail lights of flatbed flash on and off three times in rapid succession. Flatbed moves over into right hand lane, in front of cabover.
BARTON O.S.
Yeah, oh yeah, neat, like symmetrical.
KAREN O.S.
Right, symmetrical.
CUT TO:
INT.CAB OF TRUCK HAULING DRUMS -- DAY 1 #
RON (the drumhauler) has his right ear down by the floorboards, "listening" to a VIBRATION somewhere in the drive train.
RON
What the hell?
(hell has approximately three syllables)
HOWARD, Ron's codriver, emerges from sleeper, takes his seat.
HOWARD
(looking in rearview)
Hey Ron, that thur's a Japanese White. Ain't seen one'a them in I don't know how long.
RON
(lookin in the same rearview)
So 'tis.
HOWARD
Hey Ron, how come that model's called a Japanese White?
RON
(reflective, then definitive, flashing his turn signal)
I don't know.
CUT TO:
Page 20.
INT.I-5 NORTHBOUND THRU WINDSHIELD OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- DAY 1 #
BARTON O.S.
It's a straight load. Truckload shipment. Same stuff front to back. Easy to tie down. Good flatbed freight. I wonder what's in those barrels?
KAREN O.S.
What's a flatbed?
BARTON O.S.
You been pullin' one all morning.
Flatbed in front starts flashing a right turn.
BARTON O.S. (cont)
Lookit that dumb sonuvabitch now. Guy goes flying up the freeway like a goddamn rocketship just to get to an offramp.
KAREN O.S.
Why didn't he just wait?
BARTON O.S.
I don't know. Let's ask him.
Barton's left hand pushes up the right turn-signal lever.
KAREN O.S.
You're going to follow him? Just to ask him that?
BARTON O.S.
There's a truckstop down there. Cheap fuel.
KAREN O.S.
Finally...a bathroom.
CUT TO:
EXT. FREEWAY OFFRAMP -- DAY 1 #
Ron's truck moves to right, down offramp. Barton's truck follows. DECELERATION NOISE through three or four gears, then AIR BRAKE RELEASE HISSING through three or four applications. Both vehicles come to a near stop. Flatbed right turn signal comes on again. Flatbed accelerates smoothly around corner, OUT OF VIEW.
Barton's POV of opposite freeway onramp. HITCHHIKER is passed up by a string of tractor-trailers entering freeway -- flatbeds hauling machinery, vans with bright graphics, a bulk cement hauler, a semi end dump, and a set of doubles hauling tomatoes, dripping tomato juice. ENGINE NOISE is pronounced as Barton goes through several gears. Ron's truck makes a left turn, barely visible in the distance.
Page 21.
BARTON O.S.
Man, that guy's got power. I'm in second gear and he's in the coffeeshop. Big horse.
Driving past several fast food joints and filling stations. Barton's hand comes off the gearshift, and he gestures toward Karen's paperwork.
BARTON O.S. (cont.)
You sure have a lot of paperwork. You're missing all the scenery. Is that for your job?
KAREN O.S.
I'm a bondtrader, remember? It comes with the territory.
Karen's hand appears, displaying some office memoranda.
Page 21.
KAREN O.S. (cont.)
If you can't catch him, you can't ask him why he is in such a hurry. Why don't you call him up on this little radio over here, like Burt Reynolds was always doing in all the Smokey and the Bandit movies?
(beat)
Christ, it's hot!
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #
Ron's truck rolls to a stop in the driveway. Truck rolls backward; Ron finally hits the brakes.
BARTON V.O.
Yeah, hot as a pistol.
CUT TO:
EXT. HWY 41 EASTBOUND NEAR KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP - DAY 1 #
Barton's truck approaching Kettleman City truckstop.
BARTON V.O.
And that wasn't Burt Reynolds, that was Jerry Reed! Burt Reynolds was driving a little fourwheeler. Hell, that driver up there wouldn't even come back at you if he didn't hear a little Diesel on his twoway.
(beat)
Besides, it's busted.
Page 22.
KAREN O.S.
Oh.
BARTON O.S.
You do a lot of paperwork?
KAREN
All I do is paperwork. This is a treat, riding around in a big truck.
BARTON
Yeah, not like peddling bonds. Whose bonds are they, anyway?
KAREN
Some nuclear power plant. Up in Washington state. And now this one down here in California. On the coast.
BARTON
You sell bonds for nuke plants? Noooh! Really? Which one?
Devil's Valley? Way over there in San Luis? They been trying to build that pieceashit for years.
KAREN
That's the one.
Barton's truck has gone the half mile or so to the MBI truckstop in Kettleman City. Another left turn signal and deceleration, and the beginnings of a left turn (steering wheel spins).
BARTON O.S.
Well, look at that!
Ron's truck is parked squarely in the driveway.
KAREN O.S.
Maybe he ran out of gas.
BARTON O.S.
Fuel. "Gas" makes you sound like an amateur.
Barton's truck swings first right, then left, turning in at a second driveway to the same truckstop, an eighth mile further down the road.
KAREN
"Fuel."
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #
POV FUEL ISLAND. Barton's truck pulls up to a fuel island behind a line of trucks. DIESEL RUMBLE gets louder as truck approaches. Parking brake is set (HISS OF AIR).
Page 23.
BARTON O.S.
Maybe he took too many pocket rockets. Can't remember where he was supposed to park it. Maybe he broke down.
KAREN O.S.
Do you always have to wait in line?
BARTON O.S.
Fuel shortage. The ladies room is in that little yellow building there where it says cashier.
KAREN O.S.
How come you wear that big wallet with a chain on it? Is that real macho or something?
BARTON O.S.
I'm not macho.
(beat)
I'm a trucker.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #
FRONT OF BARTON'S TRUCK in line at fuel island. NOISE OF ENGINE is different from out here, and slightly louder. Driver's door and passenger door swing open. Windows are down.
Barton lets himself down to the ground with an easy swing. Karen climbs down carefully but with good form. Karen's casual clothing would more likely be found in New York's Central Park than in California's Central Valley. Barton goes from driver's side to passenger side to get to the pump. Karen does the opposite to get to the yellow building (o.s.). As they cross paths, framed by the truck grille, Karen playfully tilts up Barton's hat. He smiles.
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP-- DAY 1 #
BARTON'S POV, FRONT OF CONVENTIONAL TRACTOR AND LOAD OF DRUMS, in the driveway. Driver's door is open halfway, head and shoulders of RON, the driver, leaning out, craning his neck toward rear of truck.
BARTON AMBLES TOWARDS RON'S RIG. In the background, linedrivers are switching tractors and trailers -- disconnecting lines, lowering landing legs, etc. -- at this halfway point on the L.A.-S.F. run. Barton stops to inspect a computerized rig. Barton approaches Ron's truck and taps on the half-opened door of the truck.
Window is up (air conditioning). Ron swings the door wide open and waves slightly. The door of Ron's truck is lettered "CAHILL
Page 24.
Bozeman, Montana ICC 94606". "Ron" is lettered in italics in smaller print just under the window. On the side of the sleeper cab, "Ronald and Elvira Grooms Owner/Operator" is lettered in a slightly less professional script.
BARTON
(shouting)
Howdy!
RON
(shouting)
How do!
BARTON
Got trouble?
RON
I reckon. I got her in gear, and nothin', flat nothin'.
Barton gets closer, looks at undercarriage. CU of driveshaft turning.
BARTON O.S.
You got dual drive?
RON O.S.
Yep.
BARTON O.S.
Try it.
HEAVY CLICK-THUD. CU of a second driveshaft, also turning, but the truck doesn't move an inch.
RON O.S.
(in fluent Okie)
No improvement there, ah reckon.
BARTON O.S.
Nope. No improvement.
(to himself, in Okie)
Ahhh reckon.
(to Ron)
Wait a minute, I gotta go move my truck. I'll get a wrench.
RON
Don't worry, partner, I ain't a-goin' nowheres too darn fast.
CUT TO:
INT. CASHIER'S STATION--DAY 1 #
NOISY AIR CONDITIONER. Closed circuit TV of pumps; TV with broadcast of afternoon news. Counter top with digital displays and displays of trucker merchandise -- chrome lug nuts, etc. CASHIER is a middleaged woman, wearing a sweater.
Page 25.
karen
Where's the ladies' room?
The four o'clock news on the broadcast TV is getting into the latest debacle at the nearby nuclear power plant under construction. TV monitor shows containment structure. Karen has her back to the screen.
NEWSCASTER ON CHANNEL 3
(barely understandable)
-- minor earthquake...
cashier
Right over there.
(handing her a towel)
Shower?
NEWSCASTER ON CHANNEL 3
(barely understandable)
-- reports of injuries...non nuclear event...
Karen turns to TV, notices the nuke plant, but they are into another story.
karen
May I?
Karen changes the channels to catch the news on another station. Several truckers drift in. Monitor is displaying intros to the Five O'clock Eyewitness News on Channel 6. TV ANCHORWOMAN is flanked by black male ANCHORMAN.
ANCHORWOMAN
Good evening, I'm Joan Edwards.
ANCHORMAN
And I'm Gene Morley...
ZOOM IN on TV Monitor.
ANCHORWOMAN
And these are the stories making news tonight.
Monitor displays containment structure of nuclear reactor.
Monitor ZOOMS IN on containment structure.
Page 26.
ANCHORWOMAN O.S.,O.S.
This just in: more trouble has been reported today at Devil's Valley, Coastal Light and Power's troubled nuclear construction project. As we reported yesterday, this nuclear power plant, which Coastal says is ninety-seven percent complete, is running four hundred percent over budget and has been cited for numerous safety violations and engineering errors.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASHBACK: KAREN
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAY 0 #
Karen and a dozen or so other very well-dressed Securities Dealers in hardhats are standing about, listening attentively to a Public Relations Man from Coastal L&P. The PR Man is inaudible. PR Man is flanked by beaming VICE-PRESIDENT OF ELECTRICAL ENGINEERING AND CONSTRUCTION. Standing behind the PR Man and the V.P. are several other members of the Utility Team including BREEN. Securities Dealers take notes, some on laptop word processors.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MEETING ROOM -- DAY 0 #
The same well-dressed Securities Dealers are in a meeting at a hotel nearest the nuclear construction site. Steiner turns in his chair to get an update on risk analysis from Karen, who is seated directly behind him. His PROTEGE is seated on his right.
STEINER
Mr. Breen, I am sure I speak for all of the gentlemen, and ladies, here, that we would all like to go back to our respective offices of the Capital Markets Utility Group and push the sale of these debentures. We have talked to prospective investors. We think this is marketable. I am sure that we would be able to raise more than enough cash to complete this project, the Devil's Valley Nuclear Power Center, Unit 1 and Unit 2.
CU of Breen, who is relieved and pleased.
Page 27.
BRINKMANN
But Mr Breen, we know why you are coming to Wall Street. You can't sell your own paper; Washington won't pull a Chrysler for you, and now the banks turned you down. We know why we're here.
(beat)
And we all want to make a little money. I think we're agreed on that.
(beat)
But now I would like to tell you my own reservations about the finances of your project here.
Breen squirms. Dealer picks out Coastal's Annual Report, the dull-looking one with the containment vessel on its cover.
BRINKMANN (cont.)
(addressing his remarks to the Vice President for Electrical Engineering and Construction)
Let's get to this balance sheet. I see no reserve setaside for further delays in construction. Now this project is eight years behind schedule. Is it or isn't it? Answer me! And approximately four billion dollars over budget? A cost, I might add, that was less than half a billion dollars to begin with. So your estimate was off; by an estimated nine hundred percent. Now you claim this plant is ninety seven percent complete. Not ninety-six percent. Not ninety-nine percent. Ninety... seven... percent exactly.
(beat)
I see no reserve setaside for costs of dismantling this plant when it is decommissioned thirty years form now. My firm is in line for some twenty nine year debentures maturing in oh one {2001}. I think you can see our problem.
(beat)
We intend to be in business, thirty years down the road. And not just ninety...seven...percent in business.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASH"BACK" WITHIN A FLASHBACK -- Somewhere in the Twilight Zone
EXT. CROWDED FREEWAY -- DAY #
Simultaneous VOICEOVER from Brinkmann.
Page 28.
A flatbed tractor-trailer hauling a nuclear transport cask loaded with "spent" nuclear fuel rods on I-5 in L.A. (the Golden State Freeway) overtakes several other trucks in the #1 lane, but gets stuck behind a Winnebago in the #2 lane. The rearview of the motor home is all truck. A small car cuts in front of the Winnebago, which hits its brakes (tail lights FLASH).
CORNER OF BUMPER OF TRUCK HITS WINNEBAGO. Bumper of truck bends back into tire on truck steering axle; truck tire RUBS, SMOKES, BLOWS OUT.
TWENTY-TWO INCH STEERING WHEEL spins violently.
POV CAB OF NUCLEAR TANKER. The truck swerves slightly and overturns, skidding along in an arc on its side until it collides with a concrete bridge abutment, and bursts like a watermelon.
The small car continues blithely on, unaware that it just caused the world's worst traffic accident.
COMMUTER on L.A. Freeway, as traffic piles up and comes to a halt across all six lanes.
Voiceover VOICEOVER after Cheese says "...transport of spent fuel..."
COMMUTER
(headphones, jogging outfit, in sportscar, top down)
Shit!
Commuter looks at his watch.
COMMUTER IN JOGGING OUTFIT JOGGING LIKE HELL. He smacks into an open car door, crushing a little old lady. A child is in the car. It's a bloody mess, but he keeps running. Little old lady is lying in a pool of very hot water, her face transformed into a parboiled skull. Child cries in horror and pain.
Truck placard: "Radioactive".
The evacuation scene following the nuclear truck crash is undescribable. People will kill to get out of there. And they will have to evacuate most of L.A. -- the stuff is so hot you can't get near enough to it to scrape it up.
Commuter, at great risk to himself, runs back to the wailing child, scoops him up, and runs even faster from the scene of the accident.
EXT. A VIEW FROM THE CHANNEL 6 TRAFFIC HELICOPTER -- DAY #
Above the intersection of Interstate 5 and Interstate 10 and the Pomona Freeway near Boyle Heights, the nuclear truck wreck crash site in Karen's flashback. Truck is on its side.
Page 29.
The cask on the trailer has hit the corner of the bridge abutment like an egg hits a mixing bowl. No other vehicles are involved in the collision. The freeway is stopping in every direction at once. A plume of condensing steam rises from the truck like a colorless mushroom cloud. CHOPPER CHATTER.
HELICOPTER NEWSPERSON V.O.
This is the Channel 6 Eye in the Sky at the L.A. Five and Ten where an overturned rig is blocking traffic on I-5 northbound. All six lanes are shut down. And southbound. On I-10 the eastbound, and westbound all six lanes. Folks it looks like... well it looks to me like the Pomona is blocked westbound. And eastbound. It looks to me... It appears to me that...I think it's gridlock. Nothing is moving. We're looking for the CHP to appear, but... Motorists are leaving their cars...This is gridlock. Folks, I've never seen anything like...Motorists are abandoning...Motorists are running from their cars.
STATIC on the radio transmission due to all the radiation interference.
HELICOPTER NEWSPERSON V.O.
Coming in here for a closer look now. Here's the overturned rig. There's a leak from the trailer, it's...Very close to the scene of the accident, now I think...It says...Oh my God!
CU of "Radioactive" placard.
AT THE NUCLEAR TRUCK CRASH, the passenger of the truck is CRITICALLY INJURED. She wakes up in a trauma room filling up with doctors, cops, et al in full uniform, including some heavy-looking FEDERAL NUCLEAR COPS in black.
CRYING and SCREAMING hospital noises. She knows that her partner, the driver of the rig (NUCLEAR TRUCKER), is dead, but he's too contaminated to look at. "I begged him not to take that load," she remembers, now that it's too late. The doctors won't work on her because she is too radioactive. Doctors walk in, glance up at heart monitor; cops don't.
"My God," she says, her skin an eerie white color, "this is a nightmare I won't wake up from."
FLASH"BACK" within a FLASH"BACK" within a FLASHBACK --
Page 30.
Nuclear Trucker comes back from his mashed-up bloody accidental self as a typical owner-operator cowboy trucker, jerking a thumb toward his flatbed with a cask on it.
NUCLEAR TRUCKER
Just freight.
Karen climbing in the cab and buckling up. Nuclear Trucker tossing aside seat belt.
HEADSHOT of Nuclear Trucker - a grinning skull, driving a rig.
NUCLEAR TRUCKER
Never touch the stuff.
END FLASH"BACK" within a FLASH"BACK" within a FLASHBACK
BRINKMANN (cont.) V.O.
I see no reserve setaside for costs of storage of spent fuel; fuel that I have heard is hot for -- how long is it? -- two hundred thousand years? three hundred thousand years?
(giggling, having read this stuff for the first time)
You're going to babysit this stuff -- this "spent" fuel -- for hundreds of thousands of years? And Christ just died, what, two thousand years ago? I see no setaside for transport of spent fuel;
(truck hits bridge)
no setaside for evacuation in a nuclear event; for cleanup of a nuclear event; no setaside for any calamities; no setaside for any risks at all. Need I go on? God forbid that any of these things should actually happen. But Price-Anderson is, as you must be aware, no-fault. For God's sake, what if you have an accident? Perhaps some provision should be made? And reflected on the balance sheet? And your projections on profit from pumping water uphill, two hundred miles east of here?
(beat)
Do you stand by those projections, Mr. Breen? Perhaps this briefing should be recommenced at Hellums Creek, where twenty five percent of this cash is going to be spent. To pump water uphill. Just what will you do with your pumps, Mr. Breen, if this plant is not licensed by the NRC? Irrigate the forest?
END FLASH"BACK" WITHIN A FLASHBACK.
Page 31.
BARTON V.O.
You sell bonds for nuke plants? Noooh! Really?
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. MEETING ROOM -- DAY 0 #
BRINKMANN (cont.)
And if you cannot get these projected two hundred percent rate increases. Two hundred percent rate increases? What in hell makes you think that Washington will go along with that?
(looking about the room)
Those people have to get elected, you know.
General LAUGHTER.
BRINKMANN (cont.)
(referring to Karen's paper)
I've figured up the cost of all of your mistakes so far, Mr. Breen. It comes to just over three dollars per share. On what is now a nine dollar stock, at the close of trading yesterday. On what used to be -- need I remind you -- a forty one dollar stock. And you want to sell bonds?
STEINER
(getting down to business, looking directly at Breen, who is resigned to his fate)
In short, Breen, you need help. But -- it's marketable. Now our plan calls for defeasance financing. The ten-year, mark-denominated bonds pay seven and a quarter percent. When you invest in the West German government securities paying eight point four percent, we put them in a blind trust. Coastal's listed payments, then, to Coastal Utility Leasing and Credit...
END FLASHBACK.
CUT TO:
INT. Cashier's station -- DAY 1 #
The Five O'clock Eyewitness News continues. Monitor still displays containment structure.
Page 32.
ANCHORWOMAN O.S.,O.S.
Early this morning, workmen standing atop a wooden beam on a cement form apparently lost their balance and fell inside this structure. No reports yet on injuries.
(beat)
Today's problems apparently started when a small tremor registering four point four on the Richter scale struck twenty two miles west of the construction site. According to Eyewitness News sources, the quake, centered around a small island in the Pacific, loosened the supports holding up the workers' platform and scaffolding.
Monitor displays newsroom and Anchorwoman.
ANCHORWOMAN (cont.)
(beat)
Coastal has discounted the earthquake as a cause of the incident, and says they are pursuing their own investigation of worker safety, job conditions, and "worker attitudes".
CU of TV monitor. Back to Anchorwoman.
ANCHORWOMAN (cont.)
In a related story, management of Coastal Light and Power announced today that it was, quote, "a sure thing" that funds would be available to complete the plant. In making the announcement
(P-in-P of Coastal flack)
a Coastal spokesman quoted Coastal executive Wilford Breen, Vice President of Electrical Engineering and Construction, as saying that "New financing has been obtained on terms that were extremely favorable to Coastal" and that"Wall Street knew a good deal when we offered it to them."
Anchorwoman picks up a sheet of paper that has just been fed to her. There is a tiny bit of dead air, then VOICEOVER. TV Monitor displays blurry bootleg stills taken inside the construction site.
A PERSON is lying on a stretcher, bent in an unusual fashion denoting massive skeletal damage. A bloody towel covers a sucking chest wound. Various SAFETY AND SECURITY PERSONNEL stand about. A sheet is drawn up to the person's chest.
A PARAMEDIC is administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to the Person on the stretcher.
Page 33.
CU of mouth-to-mouth: A death rattle, GASPING and GARGLING in reverse.
ANCHORWOMAN (cont.) V.O.
This just in. It is believed that at least six workers were injured, one critically....And that the concrete was only eighteen hours old.... A source for Eyewitness News has obtained this on-the-scene film report just minutes ago.
As the stretcher is lifted to go punch out for the last time, the body convulses and contorts even more horribly. The BEARERS don't miss a step, and hustle the body O.S.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASHBACK: KAREN
Back at the construction site the PR Man is seen but not heard mouthing his various explanations, as a Cadillac ambulance with SIREN DECRESCENDO swallows up the screen in a low angle shot of the ass end of the Cadillac. Extreme low angle of medics approaching the stretcher on the ground.
END FLASHBACK.
INT. cashier's station -- DAY 1 #
KAREN
Oh, that poor man!
Karen reaches for the TV set and switches off the ignition. A Trucker objects.
TRUCKER
Pardon me, ma'am, but "Movin On" is about to start and...
cashier
You want a shower or don'cha?
karen
Thanx.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #
Barton moves his rig to the forward pump. There is a telephone on the pole next to the pump. Official looking sign says "Due to the currant (sic) fuel shortage, Limit 100 gals per Customer. Mgmt." Barton quickly unscrews cap of tank with one hand and picks up the phone with the other. He is sweating.
CASHIER
(raspy voice over telephone)
Company...
Page 34.
BARTON
Mongoose Freightlines.
CASHIER
Truck number...
BARTON
Eighty seventy-five.
CASHIER
Cash or credit...
BARTON
Cash.
CASHIER
Pump number seven.
Barton hangs up the phone and pumps the fuel. He sets the quick-release on the nozzle.
He then opens the passenger side door, picks up a large crescent wrench, spends a few seconds examining Karen's paperwork, borrows a financial newspaper, and closes the passenger door.
Barton strides toward Ron's rig. Linedrivers are still switching around tractors and trailers.
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #
BARTON
Is it your truck?
RON
Me and the Bank.
Barton crawls under Ron's tractor, using Karen's financial newspaper for a floormat. Barton crawls around a while and gets settled underneath the rear axles.
BARTON
What's in the drums?
RON
Just freight.
(pause)
Chemicals.
Barton sets crescent wrench on the bung (pipe plug) of differential.
BARTON
What kind of chemicals?
Barton "leans on" wrench, breaks bung loose. GRUNT,SQUEAK,CLANK.
Page 35.
RON
Soap, I reckon. Least that's what one driver told me. He'd been to school, and I guess he knew. All's it ever says on'em is "cleanin' compounds".
BARTON
I wonder what the fuck it is with these axles.
RON
I know what 'tis. It's expensive.
Barton unthreads bung, but no oil comes out. Crescent wrench CLANKS rhythmically.
BARTON
Yeah. Last time I had one of these motherfuckers go out on me it cost seventeen hundred dollars rebuilt just for the parts.
(pause; reminiscing)
Man, I didn't get the last mile out of that sonuvabitch. I got the last inch. Where's the load supposed to go?
Barton pokes a finger in the hole. The differential is so hot that it nearly burns his finger; an "ouch".
Barton stares at his finger, covered with a tar-like substance.
RON
Kettleman City. Just about made'er, too.
Barton crawls back out from under rig.
BARTON
(still on the ground)
You mean that load goes to the dump just over the hill there?
RON
That's a big ten four, partner.
Barton, kneeling, displays his tarry digit to Ron.
RON (cont.)
(surprised)
What the hell's that you got there, asphalt?
Page 36.
BARTON
(standing up and chuckling)
No, I don't hardly think its asphalt. I got to go check my pump.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #
Barton inspects pump number seven while drycleaning his hands with hand cleaner, and wiping them with an old tee shirt, sweating profusely. Pump reads fifty dollars. He grimaces.
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #
Back at Ron's rig.
BARTON
(seriously, pointing to undercarriage)
Have these rear ends been worked on lately?
RON
Not exactly worked on. The front one was leakin' some, and vibratin' some, but the dispatcher he said just to top it off and bring'er in.
BARTON
(glancing at lettering on driver's side door)
All the way to Montana?
RON
Naw, this company I'm pullin' fer's got a yard in Stockton. Just bring'er in to Stocktontown. This here load goes to Kettleman City, and then I was supposed to drop the trailer and bobtail up to Stockton.
Barton signals to kill the engine (finger across throat). Ron hesitates, stares at gauges, complies. Relative QUIET.
BARTON
So did you get these rear ends worked on in L.A. or not?
RON
Little shop down in Cudahy topped it off for me.
BARTON
Freightliner did that?
Page 37.
RON
Naw, just some cumshaw garage outfit.
You a mechanic?
BARTON
No, just a driver.
(displaying his blackened finger again)
Hey, they filled it with mineral. Mineral and multiweight don't mix. This thing is dead.
(beat)
That differential's hotter'n hell. Another ten miles the trailer deck coulda caught on fire.
RON
You mean she's busted?
BARTON
Yeah. She's busted. Better call a tow truck.
RON
Yeah. Better put'er on the hook, I reckon.
Ron considers this situation a moment.
MEDIUM SHOT OF TRACTOR and trailer deck with a neat rack of ropes, straps, and rolled up tarpaulins, a few dark blue drums and "Flammable" placards on the front and side of the load.
RON (cont.)
You got you a chain on that rig?
BARTON
Yeah. Why? You wanna drag this thing outa the driveway?
RON
Wouldn't hurt.
BARTON
Is it heavy?
RON
She's eighty thousand.
BARTON
Full load. Yeah, what the hell. I gotta go pay for the fuel. Be right back.
Barton hands Ron the tarry differential bung. Ron fingers it cleanly with distaste.
Page 38.
RON
Yep. Every fifth trip, yer pullin' fer Exxon.
(beat)
Mebbe I got a chain in the jockeybox.
After Barton walks away, Ron climbs onto the dromedary deck behind his cab, removes a chain and tosses it onto the deck of his semitrailer.
CUT TO:
INT. CASHIER'S STATION--DAY 1 #
NOISY AIR CONDITIONER. Cashier accepts Barton's hundred dollar bill and keystrokes out a receipt.
CASHIER
Thanks much and drive safe.
BARTON
(sweat frozen by air conditioning)
Yeah. Thanks.
Telephone Intercom to fuel islands starts SQUAWKING; mostly DIESEL RUMBLE. Cashier peers through window behind her.
CASHIER
(loudly)
Go ahead, Frank. Yer on six.
BARTON
Have you seen a woman, young woman, my height, nice clothes, came in here...
CASHIER
She went in the ladies room. Just a minute ago.
BARTON
Yeah. Thanks.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP FUEL ISLAND -- DAY 1 #
Barton puts away the crescent wrench in the passenger side of the cab, and straightens out the grease-stained newspaper. Intense DIESEL NOISE. FRANK'S DRIVER, young and gaunt, is fuelling one of Frank's rigs. Barton climbs over the deck behind his cab, checks the air lines, etc.
FRANK'S DRIVER
Hey Driver!
Barton climbs back down, looks expectantly at Frank's Driver.
Page 39.
FRANK'S DRIVER (cont.)
(very friendly)
How'se life treatin' ya?
BARTON
(noncommittally)
O.K.
FRANK'S DRIVER
Hey, pardner, I'm a little low on cash money and there ain't no place around here a man can cash a check. Supposin' I was to put twenny five gallons in your tank there and you give me twenny dollars fer it?
Barton just stares noncommittally.
FRANK'S DRIVER (cont.)
Or if you want, I can get you a little somethin' to keep you awake.
Frank's Driver displays heartshaped pills half out of his pocket.
BARTON
No that's okay thanks anyway.
Barton turns away abruptly. He glances back at Frank's Driver's truck, then walks to a very-nearby pay phone.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP PAY PHONE -- DAY 1 #
Barton is in the phonebooth. Telephone RINGS in FRANK'S office.
FRANK O.S.
Frank's Truckin'.
OPERATOR O.S
Collect call from a driver.
FRANK O.S.
Bring'em on!
BARTON
(into telephone)
'Afternoon. Do you have a late model Kenworth Aerodyne, tan three axle?
FRANK O.S.
Mebbe. Who's this?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Tall skinny driver, needs a shave, kinda strung out?
FRANK O.S.
Whos'is?
Page 40.
BARTON
(into telephone)
This is Barton Mullridge. I'm the owner of Mongoose Freight Lines. Statewide service, general commodities. Your driver just tried to put twenty-five gallons of your fuel in my truck for twenty bucks cash.
FRANK O.S.
Is that right?
BARTON
(into telephone)
Back in the neck of the woods where I come from, we call that embezzlement.
(beat)
And he's high as a kite on hearts.
FRANK O.S.
Is that right? Well, I appreciate the information. We just call it stealin', see?
BARTON
(into telephone)
No problem. Ten Four.
FRANK O.S.
I'll get right on it.
BARTON
(into telephone)
Ten Four.
CUT TO:
EXT. KETTLEMAN CITY TRUCKSTOP -- DAY 1 #
Barton climbs back in his cab. Barton circles wide behind Ron's truck, pulls ahead of it, and backs up to it.
DIESEL NOISE. Ron has slung a chain around an eyehook on his bumper. Ron waves Barton back into position with one arm, the other arm loose holding the chain. Ron clenches a fist; AIR BRAKES HISS, and Ron ducks under Barton's trailer. Ron slings the chain around the rear axle of Barton's trailer, hooks it to itself, and climbs back in his cab.
BARTON GINGERLY TAKES UP THE SLACK IN THE CHAIN.
Attractive female MERCEDES DRIVER is out of her car, snapping a series of shots with a 35mm camera.
Page 50.
THROUGH-THE-LENS SHOT of Ron hooking the chain around the rearmost axle of Barton's trailer.
MERCEDES DRIVER takes some rapidfire shots of one truck pulling the other truck. She finishes the roll, labels it "I-5" and in smaller scrawl "Truckers", and tosses the roll into her trunk.
THE CHAIN, as rust and dirt snap off the links and it goes extremely straight, getting just slightly brighter in the sun as the second truck begins to roll. DIESEL NOISE of Barton's engine pulling eighty tons instead of forty.
130 foot long combination of vehicles moves snakelike around the lot and into a "parking space". Linedrivers are still switching around tractors and trailers.
Barton backs up, chain is released, Barton pulls ahead and backs smoothly into the adjacent parking space on the right in one pass. Ron is standing by his passenger door. HOWARD, Ron's co-driver, steps out as Barton swings down from his truck. Howard is shorter and older than Ron and higher mileage.
RON
Much obliged, driver. What's yer name? Mine's Ron. This here is Howard. He's my co-driver. Let me buy you and yer lady friend a cup of coffee.
Barton kills his engine. Howard nods. RUMBLE is now much reduced to diesel REEFER UNITS and TRUCK ENGINES RUNNING IN BACKGROUND 0.S.
BARTON
(hesitates, contemplating an ice-cold coffeeshop)
Sure. Name's Barton. My lady friend is in the ladies room.
Barton scribbles "In Coffeeshop" in the dust on the windshield of his truck, stares at it, hesitates; Ron hands him a pad of paper in a leather case and pen. Barton writes "In Coffeeshop" and puts it under the windshield wiper.
A particularly beat-up fenderflapper of an old truck creaks by, pulling a beat-up van.
RON
There's a fella appears to be runnin' on fumes.
CUT TO:
INT. TRUCKSTOP COFFEESHOP -- DAY 1 #
Carl's Jr.-type. Charge-a-call pay telephones are hung on the walls just above the tables. Female WAITRESSES wear absurd uniforms. Prominent "Professional Drivers Only" sign and seating section, where several COMPANY DRIVERS (males) are seated
Page 42.
around one table, some with hamburgers, all with coffee. Most have company shirts. Ron, Howard, and Barton are also at a booth in the professional drivers section with three coffee cups, one full, two two thirds empty. Howard is drinking milk. Ron's logbook sticks out from his leather permit folder lying on the table. His shipping papers (bill of lading, manifest, handtag, etc.) are spread out on the table, facing Barton. Other booths with ones, twos, and threes are in Western dress, including the women.
A FAMILY consisting of MOM, POP, and two CHILDREN is at another table, not in the professional drivers section. The little kids are fascinated by the truckdrivers.
CHILD #1
(male, about four years old)
Where are the cowboys' guns, Mommy?
MOM
Eat your salad, honey.
CHILD #2
(female, about six years old)
Cowboys only drive horses, silly!
Child #1 points an imaginary pistol across the table at his sister. Mom pushes his hand down.
Barton is talking into the telephone, while Ron very professionally fills out his log book. Howard stares vacantly.
BARTON
(into telephone)
...so what you're telling me is you don't really need the stuff tomorrow morning after all.
COMPANY DRIVER #1
(loudly, from the company drivers' table)
-- so now, instead'a drivin' to Shakey and layin' over, like we use ta, we drop a set of trailers here and northbound picks'em up.
COMPANY DRIVER #2
(loudly)
I seen that. So you guys just go halfway and turn back.
COMPANY DRIVER #1
(loudly)
Crazy, ain't it?
Page 43.
BARTON
(into telephone, annoyed that he is on the wrong end of a negotiation)
-- no, it's fine, yeah, I'll bring it in the day after.
(beat)
-- yeah, hurry up and wait. I'll see you then. No, no problem. G'bye.
(hanging up the telephone)
Who the hell does he think he is? What am I just a goddamned delivery boy?
A wet-haired Karen enters the restaurant and looks about for Barton. Mercedes Driver is alone at a table, munching on a light lunch from the salad bar, reading a copy of Millimeter.
COMPANY DRIVER #3
(loudly)
Ain't it though. United would never do a crazy thing like that. That's fuckin' crazy.
COMPANY DRIVER #2
(loudly)
I hear they're all gonna go that route pretty soon.
(route rhymes with bout)
Karen approaches. All the drivers except those with their backs to the aisle look up, stare, etc. She walks straight to Barton's side of the table.
COMPANY DRIVER #4
(loudly, with his back to the aisle)
Fuckin' union ain't worth a fuck when ya need the sonuvabitches.
Karen glances at Company Drivers. Company Drivers continue their conversation O.S.
Barton hangs up the telephone.
KAREN
(enthusiastic)
That was so nice. The women's room had a shower with clean towels and it didn't cost a thing.
RON
At a dollar and change a gallon, they don't need any more money. Here's yer coffee. Name's Ron.
KAREN
Thanx. Nice to meet you. Karen.
BARTON
Ron here broke down. I dragged him in with a chain.
Page 44.
KAREN
Nice of you.
RON
Where're you'all headed?
KAREN
Oakland. Right?
BARTON
Oakland. Gotta drop off that container.
RON
Up to the Gay Bay, eh? That load you were pullin' seemed kinda heavy. That heavy stuff inside is just hitchhikin'?
BARTON
Just freight.
(pause)
Yeah, I know, U.S. Customs would shit a brick about the Jap container not paying duty. And haulin' domestic freight. Freight's on the inside, see? Inside information. Well, fuck U.S. Customs. Fuck'em all.
RON
(with a glance at Karen)
And the horse they rode in on. Yeah, we pull those boxes sometimes -- empty -- when the despatcher can't come up with nothin' better.
BARTON
(to Karen)
By the way, the clay guy just told me that he doesn't want the stuff tomorrow after all. Now it's the day after.
KAREN
And after all that rushing around in Los Angeles!
(to Ron)
How about you? Where were you going?
RON
(pointing to shipping papers he and Barton had been inspecting)
Kettleman City. To the dump.
Karen inspects the shipping papers.
KAREN
This ... This place is Kettleman City. Isn't it?
Page 45.
RON
You got that right. The dump's maybe eight, ten mile.
Ron jerks a finger west.
KAREN
If it's so close, why don't we just take your load in for you?
Ron checks out Barton's response to Karen's suggestion.
BARTON
I don't know.
(beat)
That might be a problem.
KAREN
Why? Won't our cab fit his trailer?
Karen's eyes widen as she inspects all of the shipping papers.
RON
Ya see, ma'am, its not your usual kinda dump. That there's a Class One, just for Hazardous.
Karen settles down to work, looking at the papers.
KAREN
Oh.
BARTON
(slightly macho)
You know, hazardous waste. Toxic. Chemical waste. Whatever you want to call it, the bad stuff. 'Course, that stuff's like an ice cream soda compared to that nuclear waste they're haulin' around now. Now that's some bad shit!
RON
Still want to haul'er in?
KAREN
(having second thoughts)
I don't know. I just thought truckdrivers helped each other out like that all the time.
RON
Some do, some don't.
Page 46.
BARTON
(exposing an annoyance at the delays and hangups of business as usual)
We've got a little time to kill.
(beat)
Might be interesting. Someday, I'll be broke down, you can give me a hand.
KAREN
(studying papers intently, glancing back and forth between bills)
"Hazardous materials..."
RON
Well, hell, I'm not tryin' to talk ya inta nothin', but that stuff's not any more dangerous than anythin' else. You got to be careful, but it ain't like explosives or nothin'.
BARTON
Yeah. Yesterday it was freight. Today it's toxic waste.
KAREN
(looking up from the papers)
What happens if we don't do it?
RON
I just set here suckin' coffee, I reckon. Freightliner'll send a mechanic or a towtruck, sooner or later. You're not supposed to leave the truck with those barrels on it.
KAREN
"Do not leave vehicle unattended..."
BARTON
What the hell, why not?
KAREN
Maybe we should think about it some more.
BARTON
Naaah. It's only a couple miles. Let's finish up and get to it.
Ron points to the shipping papers.
RON
When you get this here all took care of, just bring the trailer back and I'll buy you both a steak dinner.
Page 47.
BARTON
It's a deal.
CUT TO:
EXT. TRUCKSTOP PARKING LOT -- DAY 1 #
Diesel RUMBLE. Ron lowers the landing legs on Barton's trailer while Barton uncouples the air hoses and electrical cord. Karen stares at the drums. Howard stands about.
RON
(to Karen)
Well, now, you don't want to believe everything you read in the newspaper. Hell, I've hauled a pile of this stuff, and it ain't hurt me none.
Barton releases the jodog fifth wheel, climbs back into his cab, drops the trailer, and drives in front of Ron's tractor. Barton lowers the landing legs of Ron's trailer while Ron uncouples the lines.
BARTON
When are you supposed to deliver?
RON
They say ten o'clock, but most any time is okay long's the night shift operator at the dump signs fer'em.
KAREN
I thought they put this stuff in big tank trucks. You mean it goes down the thruway just like that?
RON
Yep. Long as she don't get loose and fall off, goes down the boulevard just like that.
KAREN
(to Barton)
Are you sure this is all right?
BARTON
(macho again)
Like the man said, you just got to keep it on the truck.
Karen climbs in the cab. She fishes for her seatbelt and buckles up; unbuckles; fishes out Barton's seatbelt and places it across his seat; buckles up again.
Ron attaches a chain to his bumper and to a pintlehook on the rear of Barton's tractor; Ron climbs back into his cab; Barton climbs back into his cab, tosses aside the seat belt.
Karen REACTION SHOT.
Page 48.
Ron's disabled tractor is yanked from underneath the flatbed full of drums, and parked in the shade. Ron rides back to the drums on the ladders next to the driver's window. Ron remains spotlessly clean throughout.
BARTON
Is the trailer registered?
RON
I just put the eighty one stickers on there m'self this mornin'.
BARTON
I mean, is the trailer registered for hazardous?
RON
Yessir, got this shiny little blue sticker right up here in the front. Can't miss'er.
(beat)
I reckon you know a thing or two about haulin' hazardous?
Barton hitches up to the trailer of drums with a SLAM. Hose lines are connected and landing legs raised.
BARTON
Not much. What about the little yellow stickers that you're supposed to have on each barrel? I don't recall seeing any of those yellow stickers on the drums back there.
When Ron finishes raising the landing legs, both drivers walk around the rig bumping the tires and checking the ropes.
RON
(bumpkinish)
Little yella stickers! The lumpers at this place are always reeeeal careful to turn'em all inside so's you can't see'em from the Highway Patrol side.
Karen REACTION SHOT.
BARTON
Slick.
RON
(with conviction)
She's legal.
Barton climbs in his truck. Ron hits the door of Barton's tractor twice. Karen waves from her side of the cab.
RON (cont.)
Drive safe!
Page 49.
BARTON
Yeah. See you later.
Barton's truck pulling a load of hazardous waste heads out. REAR OF TRAILER displaying Montana license plates; chromed mudflap weights cast in the shape of reclining female nudes; stickers saying "This Truck Makes Wide Right Turns" and "Leg Check: 65 feet Ahead" and "If You Got It, a Truck Brought It."
RON WALKS BACK ACROSS THE PARKING LOT TO HIS WOUNDED TRACTOR. Diesel-powered Mercedes CLATTERS by, behind him.
Ron approaches his own truck. Howard is in the passenger seat. Ron stops, stares at passenger side of truck.
RON
Hey Howard!
(beat)
Yo! Howard!
Howard is watching TV. Howard opens the passenger side door, and looks at Ron expectantly.
RON (cont.)
(let down and burnt out)
Lissen, Hotshot, here's twenty bucks, whyn'choo go on up to the no-tell motel over there and getcher'sef a room.
(mo' tel)
Howard nods obediently, takes his overnight bag from the jump box underneath the sleeper.
RON
Bout as much brains as God give a screwdriver.
Ron walks around his truck a bit, inspecting all the chrome plated items. His eyes come to rest on the differential bung, plated with tar, not chrome, sitting on the deck behind his sleeper. "Elvira" is lettered on the door, which brings to mind a vigorous, happy, but absent WOMAN WITH A WINCHBAR, who vanishes.
Ron fishes out a business card from Los Angeles Freightliner, and walks away from his truck to the phone booth.
Diesel-powered Mercedes is stopped at the fuel island.
CASHIER
(Raspy voice over telephone)
This here ain't no gas station. That thur's a Diesel pump!
MERCEDES DRIVER
(exasperated)
Would you please just turn the damned thing on, please?
Page 50.
CASHIER
Now don't you go gettin' salty with me, young lady!
Mercedes Driver struggles with the truck Diesel hose and nozzle. The line is kinked.
It recoils, wrenches itself out of her hands, and writhes to the concrete. Ron hangs up the phone, and is on it in a flash.
RON
This place is really givin' you some hell, ain't it?
MERCEDES DRIVER
Any help would be appreciated, believe me.
Ron expertly wrestles the nozzle up off the ground, unkinks the hose, and thrusts the nozzle into fuel filler pipe of the Mercedes.
MERCEDES DRIVER (cont.)
All the gas stations I stopped at are out of Diesel. Fuel shortage.
RON
(Very polite)
Is that right?
MERCEDES DRIVER
I hardly ever buy my fuel at truckstops.
RON
'Understandable.
MERCEDES DRIVER
Can we fill it up?
RON
(Very polite)
If you got the money.
Mercedes Driver flashes a gold Mastercard. Ron just nods.
MERCEDES DRIVER
I've got to get to L.A.
RON
(pointing to hand lettered sign)
I reckon this'll do ya jes' fine.
MERCEDES DRIVER
(interested)
Ah reckon it will.
FROM HERE FORWARD, CUT TO this unlikely pair as an X-RATED MOVIE.
Page 51.
Ron and Mercedes Driver don't get back in the full foreground until Highway Patrolman #1 and #2 bust them, somewhere around page 87.
Ron's tractor is parked just next to the understated elegance of Mercedes Driver's auto. Ron opens the door of the car, and then the passenger door of the truck.
Ron and Mercedes Driver are in the cab. Ron becomes much more self-assured and less self-effacing behind the wheel. Ron puts on some music from a cassette tape, glances at the air pressure gauge; a jangling truckdriver country-Western song. She fishes in her purse for a cassette; he inserts it in the cassette player. It's ROMANTIC, SEDUCTIVE MUSIC. He sits back and listens to it, daydreaming.
They talk for quite a while (SILENTLY).
She absentmindedly fiddles with the orange-painted winch bar which she has found underfoot, just inside the passenger door. She gestures to him and they lean toward each other {the seats in a conventional are pretty close together}. She coaxes him into the back of the walkin sleeper. She deftly slips off her panties and they take it from there. The cops knock on the door around daybreak.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK HWY 41 EAST -- DAY 1 #
Karen is studying the shipping papers approaching the Olive Tree Motel near the I-5 underpass. Across the street is a cottonfield. DIESEL RUMBLE. HIPPIE HITCHHIKER #1 and HIPPIE HITCHHIKER #2 are thumbing a ride just up the road; sleeping bags and several neat cardboard boxes are stacked next to them.
KAREN
Stop here a minute, okay?
BARTON
Yeah, sure. Something wrong?
KAREN
(displaying a manifest, a bill of lading, a handtag, and a Government flyer about shipping hazardous waste)
Is something wrong? Look at this bill of lading!
BARTON
I gotta steer. You gonna drive?
KAREN
I don't know how.
Barton puts on turn signal, pulls over to the side in a cloud of dust.
A low-flying cropduster, makes an approach to the cottonfield a half mile away. Cropduster is not audible over DIESEL.
Page 52.
KAREN (cont.)
Is something wrong? Didn't you even look at this stuff?
Karen displays the shipping papers.
BARTON
Yeah, I always look at'em. To make sure it's all there. Lemme see.
KAREN
This is supposed to be two shipments.
Barton glances at bills while setting the parking brake. HISS OF AIR.
BARTON
Ron's dispatcher just consolidated them. Make more money.
KAREN
It says here "Do Not Consolidate Cargo -- REACTIVE".
BARTON
No shit?
(studying papers)
It might blow?
(beat)
"Segregated commodities".
The cropduster makes another pass, a few rows of cotton closer. A convoy of four very clean trucks goes by -- two end dumps with cloth coverings rolled out, one flatbed with drums, and a tanker.
A cacophony of DIESEL noises, besides Barton's.
BARTON (cont.)
Two hydroxy methyl biphenyl. Twenty thousand pounds. Sounds poisonous.
KAREN
And this part. "Master Bill".
BARTON
"Separated Shipments Only". Where's the other one?
KAREN
Here. Chloroethylene. Ten thousand pounds.
(pointing to the other trucks passing by)
Where are they going?
BARTON
(rolling up the window to keep out the cropduster spew)
To the dump. They're very neat.
Page 53.
Another truck with drums goes by, followed by a van bearing three different sets of placards -- "Hazardous", "Flammable", and "Corrosive". Clean trucks. More NOISE.
KAREN
And he's going to the dump?
BARTON
Where else? It's all toxic waste. Toxic, chemical waste. It goes to the dump. To the Authorized Class One Government-Inspected Dump.
KAREN
And what will they do at the dump?
BARTON
Just what we're going to do. What are you, fucking naive? Dump drums in a ditch. And cover it up with dirt. Business as usual. Better living through chemistry.
(beat)
This ain't stocks and bonds. Welcome to the real world, baby.
(beat)
This ain't fucking Wall Street. This isn't even fucking Main Street. THIS is the BOULEVARD!
Karen leans on doghouse and switches off ignition. SILENCE.
KAREN
Just...dump it.
(beat)
You can't do it. It's that simple.
Barton stares at Karen. The silence is broken by cropduster's RADIAL AIRCRAFT PISTON ENGINE NOISE, complete with DOPPLER EFFECTS and a power turn.
BARTON
(mimicking)
I can't.
(beat)
It's done all the fucking time!
KAREN
It's criminal.
BARTON
It's legal. And this was your stupid fucking idea.
KAREN
(shouting)
What are you, a dumb truckdriver? I'm serious. It's criminal. It's stupid. This stuff could blow up.
Page 54.
Barton studies the drums in his rearview. Karen studies Barton. Barton gets out of the truck and slams the door.
BARTON
I gotta check my load.
The cropduster passes nearly overhead. Barton observes it; it holds a special fascination for him. The SOUND OF THE PLANE IS OVERWHELMING; the force of it sits him down. He rubs his eyes and forehead. The cropduster NOISE reaches a crescendo. The plane is directly overhead.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASHBACK: BARTON
EXT. DEFOLIATED JUNGLE IN NORTH VIET NAM CA. 1970 -- DAY #
NOISE of occasional MACHINE GUN FIRE, not far away. A jet fighter passes directly over a group of GIs moving single file along a wet trail, engine WHINING. A few seconds behind the fighter, a slower moving aircraft, a camouflaged single-engine Cessna 150, drops low and begins releasing a cloud of spray just in front of the advancing patrol. The men look at each other silently, and march on up the trail a bit less resolutely than before.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HWY 41 WESTBOUND NR OLIVE TREE MOTEL -- DAY 1 #
Barton stands, turns away from his truck, and bolts up the hill toward the motel. Karen remains seated in the cab.
barton
I gotta go make a phone call.
KAREN
(to herself)
Unattended.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. AIRPORT -- DAY 1 #
Brinkmann deplanes. BRINKMANN's CHAUFFEUR follows a few steps away. Both men walk briskly to the corporate helicopter. Helicopter whisks them to Manhattan, to the roof of the Murrill Building.
CUT TO:
EXT. MURRILL BUILDING -- DAY 1 #
Brinkmann strides briskly into a meetingroom of insurance company executives, seated nervously around a conference table.
Page 55.
BRINKMANN
Tell me, what are you gonna do if your investment in London's Dockside District doesn't appreciate ten percent a year for the next ... fifteen years? Fifteen years? You think it's always up, up, up?
Brinkmann interrupts himself to turn to another executive.
BRINKMANN (CONT.)
(sotto voce)
You checked this out with Karen?
Negative response elicits a frown. Back to flaying.
BRINKMANN (CONT.)
It's already gone up for ten years in a row. Speculative real estate. Your penchant for cross-collateralization -- You made money. We made money. But you're betting your ass and your policyholders' ass, it's just going to go up, up, up, for another fifteen years, and so it's got to go up, up, up, or it's your ass! You gotta do something to get off the thin ice, get back to shore! We're your life jacket, you better put it on.
CUT TO:
INT. WASHROOM OF OLIVE TREE MOTEL -- DAY 1 #
Barton washing his face with cold water.
BARTON
Pushy bitch.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LABORATORY -- DAY 1 #
Well-equipped biochemistry laboratory. NOISE OF ULTRACENTRIFUGES SPINNING. A magnetic stirring bar spins around in a beaker of liquid; drop-counter fraction collector with digital displays; and a few other instruments and incubators. TELEPHONE RINGS. The phone is answered by SID VAN OCUR in a white lab coat, monogrammed with "Designer Genes", holding a micropipet. Van Ocur is about seventy, youthful and vigorous looking.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
Van Ocur here.
BARTON O.S.
Sid! Mullridge here. How're things on Seventh Street?
Page 56.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
Hey! Barton! Thanks for the nucleotides. You guys are faster than Federal Express.
BARTON O.S.
We deliver.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
Haven't seen your rigs go past the place here lately.
CUT TO:
ext. HWY 41 westbound nr olive tree motel -- DAY 1 #
Hippie Hitchhiker #1 approaches Barton's truck.
BARTON O.S.
The city put in a new stoplight on your corner so my drivers can't run the stopsign. They're goin' down Sixth Street.
(beat)
You busy?
VAN OCUR O.S.
(into telephone, fiddling with the magnetic stirrer)
Yeah. I'm in the middle of an experiment.
BARTON O.S.
I got a quick question for you.
VAN OCUR O.S.
(into telephone)
Okay.
CUT TO:
INT. OLIVE TREE MOTEL LOBBY -- DAY 1 #
Barton is at a pay phone. Other truckers are at other telephones, calling their brokers, wives, and sweethearts, making it difficult for Barton to hear Van Ocur. Piped-in country- Western MUZAK.
BARTON
(into telephone, reading from bill of lading)
How dangerous is one hydroxy two methyl biphenyl?
VAN OCUR O.S.
Not too bad. Cancer and birth defects. Is that it?
Page 57.
BARTON
(into telephone)
What about chloroethylene?
VAN OCUR O.S.
Chloroethylene?
CUT TO:
INT. LABORATORY -- DAY 1 #
Van Ocur scribbles Fischer projection formulae on a scratchpad.
BARTON O.S.
Some guy put them on my truck. I want to know...
VAN OCUR
(intotelephone, still scribbling)
Together?
BARTON O.S.
Fifty or so barrels each.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
That's...Wait a minute.
Van Ocur casts a glance at benches of his employees. Prominent "Biohazard" and "Radiation Area" signs, near sterile hoods and Lexan-laminate chemistry hoods. Scientists and technicians wear radiation badges. Van Ocur untangles the telephone, and moves around the doorway into his adjoining office. He types the formula into an Apple, gets a reference, and pulls a bound notebook from the shelves.
VAN OCUR (cont.)
(into telephone)
Lemme have a look here.
Van Ocur flips a few pages, punches a few more keys. He gets distracted while searching the literature, by a reprint of an article stuck between the pages of the reference notebook.
BARTON O.S.
I'd know that silence anywhere.
Van Ocur scans the article entitled "Unintended Presence of SV 40 Cancer Virus in Sabin Polio Vaccine Administered to Humans" .
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
Yeah, Yeah, just got distracted. It's nothin'.
(beat; back to the matter at hand)
This is classified.
Van Ocur grabs a second notebook and flips a few pages.
Page 58.
VAN OCUR (cont.)
(into telephone)
Army work. Poisons.
BARTON O.S.
How come you've got it?
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
I kept notes. It's nothing like they got nowadays, with genetic engineering.
(pause)
Naaah, I don't know. Maybe it's worse. Chemical warfare, biological warfare. What the fuck, it's all warfare. Where are you, at your yard?
BARTON O.S.
No. I'm out here in the Valley. In the middle of nowhere.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
Good.
CUT TO:
INT. OLIVE TREE MOTEL LOBBY -- DAY 1 #
BARTON
(into telephone)
Yeah, great.
VAN OCUR O.S.
Nowhere is where that stuff ought to be. Where'd you get it?
BARTON
(into telephone)
I...borrowed it. What's the deal?
VAN OCUR O.S
Can't tell you. Classified.
BARTON
(into telephone)
What kinda bullshit is that, classified? You haven't worked for the fuckin' Army since World War Two. What the fuck is going on with this stuff, Sid?
CUT TO:
Page 59.
INT. LABORATORY -- DAY 1 #
Van Ocur in his office.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASHBACK of Van Ocur in World War II, in his days as an idealistic young scientist, giving his all to the war effort by developing potent biochemical warfare agents: dressed in a white labcoat, perched on the running boards of an olive drab pickup truck, he directs three GI's in the field application of an oily mist, drenching the landscape AT DUSK.
VAN OCUR V.O.
(pleading)
It's just a coincidence, Bart. Just a coincidence. It's just another poison.
BARTON O.S.
It says here it's reactive.
VAN OCUR V.O.
"Reactive." What's that, trucker talk? You mix those fifty-two to one, phenyl to chloro. You'll get a reaction, all right.
BARTON O.S.
And then what happens?
CUT TO:
FLASHBACK continues: Van Ocur remembers GI's letting loose cagefuls of rabbits in the desert. The sun is very bright. The GI's have to persuade the rabbits to leave the cages, by picking up the cages and emptying them out, kicking the rabbits to get them going. Sid doesn't actually physically kick any rabbits himself. He is a bit horrified at the physical kicking of defenseless rabbits.
BARTON V.O.
Sid? You there?
VAN OCUR V.O.
They're still waiting for the rabbits.
BARTON V.O.
What are you, spaced out? What rabbits? This is long distance, man, and it's my dime.
VAN OCUR V.O.
The test rabbits. The stuff was supposed to decompose; war without death; it only made people sick; we
(more)
Page 60.
VAN OCUR V.O. (Cont'd)
could wait, and take over the cities. We're still waiting for the rabbits.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. OLIVE TREE MOTEL LOBBY -- DAY 1 #
BARTON
(into telephone)
It didn't work?
VAN OCUR O.S.
It didn't work.
BARTON
(into telephone)
It didn't make people sick? It didn't decompose? What?
CUT TO:
INT. LABORATORY -- DAY 1 #
Van Ocur, slumped in his chair exhausted from his visions of war research in years gone by. He looks every minute of seventy years old.
VAN OCUR
(into telephone)
I don't know how you got that stuff. Just get rid of it.
CUT TO:
INT. OLIVE TREE MOTEL LOBBY -- DAY 1 #
BARTON
(into telephone)
Don't worry, Sid. We deliver the goods.
CUT TO:
INT. LABORATORY -- DAY 1 #
Van Ocur hangs up the telephone and goes back to pipetting.
CUT TO:
INT. OLIVE TREE MOTEL LOBBY -- DAY 1 #
BARTON
(into telephone)
Don't worry, Sid. We deliver the goods.
Barton sighs and hangs up. Barton walks toward his truck while the phone rings, asking for more dimes. CROPDUSTER NOISE is audible again.
Page 61.
CUT TO:
ext. HWY 41 nr OLIVE TREE MOTEL -- DAY 1 #
Karen is talking to Hippie Hitchhicker #1.
BARTON
We'll call the EPA.
KAREN
The EPA! Look right here at these papers. The EPA says all this is okay.
(mimicking)
"EPA number CD23847298."
(beat)
Dump it in the official ditch.
BARTON
We'll call...
KAREN
We might as well call the White House, Barton.
(long pause)
There's nobody to call. This guy wants to talk to you.
barton
Yeah?
hippie hitchhiker #1
Hey, man, we need a ride down to San Luis. Abalone Alliance is havin' a...
barton
Sure. Hop in. Throw yer stuff on the back.
hippie hitchhiker #1
Really?
barton
Sure. Hop in.
Barton ties their bundles of flyers and sleeping bags on the trailer deck.
hippie hitchhiker #2
This stuff is really important. You can't just put it out here like that. It'll get ... damp!
BARTON
(reading a flyer)
So great. We'll put the shit in the cab and you ride back here. Better yet, why'ntyou just shut the fuck up.
Page 62.
CUT TO:
ext. HWY 41 WESTBOUND -- DAY 1 #
Hippie Hitchhiker #1 lights a marijuana cigarette as they drive down highway 41.
hippie hitchhiker #1
(toking, then passing the joint)
Here.
BARTON
Naaah, I gotta drive.
HIPPIE #2
(toking)
What's that stuff on the back?
KAREN
It's toxic waste. You know, the bad shit. Chemicals. 'Course, that stuff's like a ice cream soda compared to that nuclear waste they got nowadays. Isn't that raaaght, Barton?
HIPPIE #2
Is that right? Toxic waste?
KAREN
Tell him, Barton.
BARTON
Hey, it's whatever you think it is. Yesterday it was chemicals. Today it's toxic waste. Maybe someday it will be --- something else. It's cosmic, dude. Reincarnation. All that shit.
HIPPIE #1
Where are you taking it, man?
BARTON
To the dump.
(pause)
So you're gonna go to the plant and protest? Where's your guitars?
CUT TO:
EXT. INTERSTATE 5 SOUTHBOUND -- DUSK DAY 1 #
LONG SHOT of the rear end of Ron's trailer (chrome mudflaps, "Leg Check", etc.), smoking down I-5 south of Kettleman City, hitched up to Barton's tractor. Diesel NOISE. Passing up an "Interstate 5 -- South" federal highway sign.
Page 63.
FOLLOWING the rear end of the trailer, through the windshield of a car. Foreground of car shows a dashboard, a shotgun, a twelve volt lamp with a flexible neck, and a notepad above the level of the dash. Passing up a road sign "Lost Hills 3 Mi" at close range.
KAREN O.S.
Did you know that according to this map we're going out of our way?
BARTON O.S.
Not really.
KAREN O.S.
We're going south on Five. We want to go west. Why didn't we take this forty-one road?
BARTON O.S.
(preoccupied)
This part of Five is flat as a pancake and straight as an arrow. And then most of forty-six is flat. Better for a truck. Forty-one's a bitch.
KAREN O.S.
That's not on the map. What's the matter?
BARTON O.S.
A four wheeler was behind us. Now I don't see him.
(beat)
Dumb asshole, tailgating this mess. Let's have a look.
Rear of truck swerves left and right.
BRIEF FLASHBACK OF A SWERVING NUCLEAR TANKER.
DRIVER'S SIDE TRUCK MIRROR shows clear outline of a CHP patrol car, with a full set of red, white, and blue top mounted lights. As the truck straightens out, the car disappears from the mirror.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- DUSK DAY 1 #
KAREN O.S.
Well?
BARTON O.S.
Highway Patrol.
CUT TO:
Page 64.
THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD: Driving past a highway sign "Lost Hills 3 Mi", "Denny's", etc.
Driving past a highway sign "Lost Hills Rd Next Right".
Driving past a cluster of fast food joints with big parking lots and lots of trucks.
Freeway exit sign says "Lost Hills Rd"; truck peels to the right and heads south on Lost Hills Rd.
CHP patrol car continues south on I-5.
BARTON (cont.)
Like you said: Neat load. Symmetrical.
A windshieldful of red/gold California sunset, as the truck turns straight into the west on 46 at Lost Hills.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HWY 46 WESTBOUND -- NIGHTFALL DAY 1 #
Driving past a panorama of lush farmland in the Antelope Plain of California's Central Valley.
Driving past Hwy 33, the Westside Highway, at Blackwell's Corner.
Driving past a collection of workers houses at a dusty crossroads east of Blackwell's Corner. Children are playing near the road as night falls. Several of them wave to the truck and yank on imaginary air horns. Truck AIR HORN blares as truck drives into the sunset.
CHILDREN'S POV: Rear of truck, rapidly receding into the Diablo Range.
KAREN
(consulting the map)
It's another twenty-six miles to Cholame.
(shuh lam)
More panorama of lush farmland. Mexican farmworkers are tending melons by hand with short hoes. Fields of grapes, barley, cotton, and pastures of sheep and cattle.
Driving past a Victorian farmhouse set about a mile back on a ranch, on a driveway lined with tall palm trees.
Driving past acres of oilfield pumprigs, some with eyes and mouths painted on them to look like dragons.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY 46 WESTBOUND APPROACHING CHOLAME -- TWILIGHT DAY #
Front of truck, pulling over to the side in a cloud of dust.
Page 65.
BARTON O.S.
Check this out.
KAREN O.S.
What is it?
Truck comes to a stop at the James Dean Roadside Memorial.
BARTON O.S.
You'll see.
After a quick quiet inspection of the elegant metal and concrete structure encircling a stately Tree of Heaven, Barton returns to the truck. By the time Karen returns to the truck, Barton has a socket wrench and exchanges the California tractor license plate with the Montana trailer plate.
CUT TO:
EXT. HWY 46 AT CHOLAME -- NIGHT 2 #
The Cholame Diner. A half dozen tractor-trailers (flashy owner-operator rigs, mostly reefers) are parked outside. Barton is parked in the shortest "row".
BARTON
(to hitchhikers)
Can't save the world on an empty stomach.
hippie hitchhiker #1
(unpacking snacks)
Hey, we're okay on that.
Walking past the rows of trucks.
KAREN
What's this place?
BARTON
A truckstop.
KAREN
It doesn't look like a truckstop.
BARTON
Did you ever hear that truckers know where to eat?
KAREN
Truckstops have horrible food.
BARTON
Whoever said that truckers know where to eat was talking about places that look just like this.
(beat)
With trucks squeezed over on the side just like that.
Page 66.
CUT TO:
INT. DINER -- NIGHT 2 #
Karen and Barton take seats at the counter of the Cholame Diner. Remote jukebox selectors with menus attached. The classic TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS reaches under the counter for a pot of coffee. Other TRUCKERS are scattered about in twos or threes, dressed similarly to Ron back in Kettleman City.
Placard on the wall says, "Go Easy on the Coffee -- You'll Be Old and Weak Yourself Someday".
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
Coffee, hon?
BARTON
(anxious)
Thanx.
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
How about you, honey?
KAREN
Thanx.
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
Do you need menus?
BARTON
I'll have a steak dinner.
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
Buffalo or beef?
BARTON
Buffalo.
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
And how do you want your steak cooked, hon?
BARTON
Rare.
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS
And how about you, honey?
KAREN
I'll have the same. Just make sure it's dead. Honey.
Truckstop Waitress leaves.
Page 67.
KAREN (cont.)
And for dessert I'll have a Gateau Grand Marnier with genoise and apricot preserves.
(beat)
"Just make sure it's dead" is something you used to say in college.
BARTON
Yeah. And a snifter of Courvoisier.
(beat)
Classic place. None of that "Professional Drivers Only" bullshit to keep the truckers away from the people.
KAREN
I'm not really an aficionado of truckstops. Honey.
(beat)
There was a place like this in Smokey and the Bandit. Remember? When he ran over all the motorcycles?
BARTON
(annoyed)
Yeah. And didn't get a flat. Funny, he never crashed through ten parked police cars.
KAREN
They can't really do that?
BARTON
No.
(beat)
They can't.
(beat)
It's that simple.
Karen laughs. PAN over diner populated with 1981 TRUCKERS.
BARTON (cont.) O.S.
It's not all that glamorous. It ain't Hollywood when you're backhaulin' both ways. These freelance truckdrivers in here have to drive twenty-five hours a day, getting their brains bounced into their ass, trying to stay awake, just to pay for their trucks, their fuel, the taxes, the insurance, the fines, the bribes, the Port of Entry fees, the...
KAREN O.S.
The what?
Page 68.
BARTON O.S.
Port of Entry fees. When you cross a stateline, you pony up. Fifty bucks here, eighty there. Adds up.
KAREN O.S.
Really?
BARTON O.S.
It's unconstitutional, but its legal.
FOOTAGE OF TRUCKSTOP SCENE FROM THEY DRIVE BY NIGHT.
BOGIE ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL AND DRIVING THE RIG OFF A CLIFF.
KAREN V.O.
It doesn't make for a very exciting movie, does it?
BARTON V.O.
Unless you count They Drive by Night. When Bogart and Raft fall asleep at the wheel and wipe out the truck and have to quit driving and go out of biz. Then they go sit behind a desk.
(beat)
Imagine. Bogie as a company man.
CUT TO:
Barton and Karen are in a similar pose to Bogart and Raft at the counter. Waitress appears with salad and crackers.
KAREN
Where are all the women?
BARTON
Women? They haven't enforced affirmative action on the right to go out and work yourself to death for ninety cents a mile. There's a few women. Most of'em are sleeper teams with their old man. Bedbug haulers -- you know, moving vans.
(beat)
Never seen a female flatbed operator.
(beat)
I could fall in love with a female flatbed operator.
KAREN
I bet you could.
CUT TO:
EXT. HWY 46 WESTBOUND-- NIGHT 2 #
Driving past darkened fields and hills. The occasional streetlights and houselights are at least a mile apart, and very clear.
Page 69.
The western sky is illuminated by the glow from Paso Robles and the Coast.
Ups and downs of the truck going through the Cholame Hills.
Driving past the Phillips Petroleum plant, very brightly LIT.
CUT TO:
EXT. SOUTHBOUND ON HWY 101 -- NIGHT 2 #
Turning south onto Hwy 101.
Driving past Paso Robles. Many American-type billboards. Exit sign clearly displayed.
Approaching Cuesta Grade. Truck DIESEL NOISE is more serious, as Barton drops eight gears before getting halfway to the top.
KAREN
How many gears does this thing have?
BARTON
Ten.
KAREN
What gear are you in?
BARTON
First.
Engine starts to lose a few RPM. Karen looks apprehensive.
BARTON
Heavy, isn't it? Bastards lied about the weight.
Cresting the grade, past the brake check area, and immediately headed down the hill. Driving past signs "Truck Speed Limit 35 MPH"; "Loaded or Empty". Cars go racing past at seventy miles an hour. Trucks maintain thirty-five by braking furiously.
BARTON
Okay, anybody wants to change the world, this is your stop. A Truckstop.
HIPPIE hitchhiker#1
Hey thanks man.
BARTON
Don't mention it. Give 'em hell.
Driving past signs displaying street exits in San Luis Obispo: California Blvd, Morro Bay (1), Santa Rosa St., Broad St., Marsh St, and then Madonna Rd, then Los Osos Valley Rd. Driving past a billboard advertising "We can create a Life without War", and "805 373 3399". Exit on Los Osos, and pull around a long corner Barton leaves off the two hitchhikers at a handlettered sign that
Page 70.
says "Abalone". He drives a little further to the immense parking lot of an immense shopping center.
CUT TO:
EXT. SHOPPING CENTER -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton
Wanna drive? Come on, I'll show you how. Nothin' to it.
Truck is parked in a corner of the parking lot by the darkened Sears store. Engine IDLING.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
KAREN
What if a car comes over here?
Barton shuts off the engine.
BARTON (cont.)
They'll get out of your way. People have a lot of respect for these things at close range.
Barton hops out of the driver's seat and changes places with Karen. Karen stares at all the dials and gauges.
CU truck dashboard.
KAREN
How do you make it go?
BARTON
Turn the key one notch. Push the button. Let me finish talking so you can hear me. Check the oil pressure. Check your air pressure. Over there.
CU air pressure gauge.
BARTON (cont.)
Make sure you've got ninety pounds. Then step on the foot valve -- you know, the brake pedal? -- make sure you don't lose any. Drop the clutch, put'er in gear, and take off. And don't give it any fuel until the clutch is engaged.
KAREN
It'll stall.
Page 71.
BARTON
No. It'll lurch. And then after that, keep your R's up.
(your are's up)
KAREN
What?
BARTON
Keep your foot in it. Keep the RPM's up. Keep it up against the governor. You know -- don't lug it.
KAREN
What about the rest of this stuff?
BARTON
This is truckdriving for poets. Go ahead. Hit it.
Karen turns the key. A buzzer starts buzzing.
BARTON
What the fuck?
KAREN
(spoken simultaneously)
What's that?
BARTON
That's the low air buzzer. But we just shut the sonuvabitch off. What's it read?
CU of gauge.
KAREN
Eighty.
BARTON
Eighty. Lost fifteen pounds in three minutes.
(beat)
We got an air leak.
(beat)
Start the motor and see how fast it builds up.
Karen punches the ignition button. Low air warning buzzer stops buzzing almost immediately. Barton signals to stop the engine {finger across throat}. Karen kills the motor.
KAREN
Is it okay?
BARTON
Seems to be keeping up.
Page 72.
KAREN
What is it?
BARTON
Could be anything. Leaky airline, leaky compressor, leaky tank, leaky diaphragm. Maybe, leaky trailer. Check the brakes. Step on the brake pedal.
Karen steps on foot valve. Barton leans over, stares at gauge.
CU of gauge; pressure decreases about five pounds, then holds almost steady. Karen releases brakes. A great HISS of air.
BARTON
It'll roll. Unless it gets worse. Try driving it.
Karen starts the motor, disengages the clutch, and shifts into first gear with a grind. Barton signals "OK".
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT -- NIGHT 2 #
BARTON O.S.
No fuel, now.
Truck lunges forward.
BARTON O.S. (cont.)
It's okay.
Karen makes endless circuits of the empty section of the parking lot in first gear, approximately five miles per hour. Barton fills out a bill of lading, copying the information from Ron's paperwork.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT APRON -- NIGHT 2 #
A San Luis Obispo County Sheriff's DEPUTY drives up the parking lot apron and stops. Deputy observes for a while, mumbling into his radio.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK-- NIGHT 2 #
BARTON
Hey! Park it. Shut off the motor.
KAREN
Why? I was just getting the hang of it.
Page 73.
Barton points to the police car. Karen stops the rig, jerkily. Young Deputy strolls over insolently for a chat. Barton gets out of the truck.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT -- NIGHT 2 #
DEPUTY
Any problem here?
KAREN
No sir, everything's under control.
DEPUTY
(to Karen)
Is this your rig?
KAREN
No. It's ours.
DEPUTY
(to Karen)
You just here to do some shopping?
BARTON
(holding out empty hands, walking around front of truck)
'Evening, Officer. Had a little noise in the drivetrain, so I had the little lady drive it around the lot a couple times, so's I could have a little listen.
DEPUTY
You want handcuffs, or what?
BARTON
Thanks for checking it out. You never know.
DEPUTY
(to Karen)
So you're going to do a little shopping?
KAREN
(adopting a slightly idiotic twang)
Yes, Officer. Just to buy a few little things. You know how it is, as hard as I try to plan everything for the two of us on the road, there's always something! And you know, I just love these Sear...Lucky Discount stores. They have just everything.
Page 74.
DEPUTY
Okay. Have a ball.
Deputy walks back to his car.
CUT TO:
INT. SHERIFF'S SQUAD CAR -- NIGHT 2 #
Deputy in his car.
DEPUTY
(into radio)
-- just a couple yo-yo's from the freeway...
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT -- NIGHT 2 #
barton
(walking toward the market)
I'm gonna go get a Coke.
CUT TO:
INT. SUPERMARKET -- NIGHT 2 #
Very bright FLUORESCENT LIGHTING, heavy duty easy-listening MUZAK in a stereotypical American jumbo supermarket. Objects whisked from their shelves: One-gallon plastic jug of water from the food section; A large oilchange funnel from the automotive section; A plug wrench and self-priming siphon from the hardware section; A pickaxe from the farm and garden section out back; A western shirt with pearl snaps for buttons.
CUT TO:
INT. SUPERMARKET CHECKOUT COUNTER -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton pays the uniformed SUPERMARKET CASHIER.
SUPERMARKET CASHIER
Nineteen dollars fifty five cents.
BARTON
(forking over a twenty dollar bill)
Thanx. Keep the change.
Barton shoulders the pickaxe and slings the jug and siphon.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARKING LOT -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton stows the items from the supermarket behind the cab, except the drinking water.
Page 75.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
BARTON
Let's go cruise the plant. See what's shakin' this time o'night.
KAREN
How far is it from here?
BARTON
Couple miles. Let's go.
EXT. SHOPPING CENTER PARKING LOT -- NIGHT 2 #
The truckload of drums rolls out of the parking lot. Rear of trailer clearly displays mudflaps, etc.
CUT TO:
EXT. MADONNA ROAD -- NIGHT 2 #
Driving past Madonna Inn, in all its pink outrageousness and charm.
Barton glances at the air pressure gauge, barely keeping up with the leak.
CUT TO:
EXT. HIGHWAY 101 -- SOUTHBOUND NIGHT 2 #
Driving past a billboard extolling the virtues of the nearby power plant and inviting visitors to the Energy Information Center.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
KAREN
Hospitable folks, aren't they?
BARTON
Hell yes.
(hell has three syllables in Okie)
CUT TO:
EXT. HWY 101 NEAR AVILA BEACH -- NIGHT 2 #
Driving past a highway sign for San Luis Bay Road. Truck decelerates, makes a right turn, and travels west on Avila Road to the entrance to the plant. Truck comes to a halt at the guard shack in the mouth of the parking lot. Another truck, a van, is just pulling away.
Page 76.
CUT TO:
EXT. GUARD SHACK -- NIGHT 2 #
GUARD steps out of his guardshack. He approaches the truck, clipboard in hand, gun on his belt. He stands in front of the truck, brightly illuminated by the truck headlights, writing down the license plate number. He raises his arm to inspect his watch, and records the time of arrival on his clipboard. Finally he approaches the driver's door.
Driver's POV.
GUARD
(shouting)
Name?
BARTON
(shouting)
Cahill. C-A-H-I-L-L.
GUARD
Company? Who're you driving for?
BARTON
Groomes Truckin'. G-R-O-O-M-E-S.
GUARD
(looking at truck door)
Papers? Where did you ever come up with a name like Mongoose?
(mongoose is pronounced mungg goos)
BARTON
(handing over phony bill of lading)
Fella sold me the truck. Said it was some kinda animal.
GUARD
(glancing perfunctorily at the papers)
Yeah, some guys paint the damndest things on these rigs.
Guard's POV.
BARTON
Yeah, well, you know truckdrivers.
Driver's POV.
GUARD
I see enough of'em. You know where you're goin'?
BARTON
I reckon.
Page 77.
GUARD
(handing back the paperwork, looking at drums)
Just outa curiousity, what is that stuff?
CU of a yellow sticker.
BARTON
Just freight.
(pause)
Some special soap. Supposed to be good for cleaning up radioactivity. Radiowash, they call it.
GUARD
(laughing)
They could probably use some of that around here. Okay!
Guard hands Barton a pass, and waves them on in.
CUT TO:
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT APPROACH ROAD -- NIGHT 2 #
Truck travels the five miles or so to the plant proper; cab shakes severely.
KAREN
This road is awfully bumpy.
BARTON
Earthquakes.
CUT TO:
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- NIGHT 2 #
Truck pulls in behind the first support building, just after the pistol range. Plant is brightly LIT, after the manner of utility installations everywhere, where power is too cheap to meter.
BARTON
You take it, okay?
Barton steps quickly from the cab to the truck frame to the trailer deck. He looks around; nothing is stirring. He methodically opens all the barrels of Part B on the passenger side and one barrel of Part A, using the plug wrench from Ron's trailer.
He siphons a gallonful of Part A into the jug, and then pours some of the jug into a barrel of Part B with the help of the funnel. He stirs the barrel with his winch bar.
Not much happens. He cautiously feels the side of the drum. Warm. He adds the rest of the gallon.
CU of drums. Vaporous heat waves rise from the bunghole.
Page 78.
Barton methodically goes down the passenger's side of the load, treating each of the barrels in turn.
CU of barrel. The first barrel treated is now smoking slightly.
CU of Barton, staring at a smoking barrel of chemical warfare agent on a tractor-trailer, holding a pickaxe.
BARTON
(to himself)
What the fuck am I doing?
Barton shoulders the pickaxe, and marches over the drums to the front of the trailer.
BARTON (cont.)
(yelling)
Let's go, driver!
KAREN
(yelling back)
Where?
BARTON
Keep your R's up, and don't drive anywhere you've already been!
Truck lurches into gear, and lunges several times. Barton is holding on to a rope to keep from falling off. Finally the truck gets under way. Barton hops madly over the barrels, putting neat holes in the passenger's side ones with the pick, just above the bottom of the barrel.
The syrupy liquid pees out of the drums like a giant watering can.
When it hits the asphalt, it smokes a bit, turns slightly yellow, and then an unexpectedly very very bright orange.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
CU of Karen piloting the rig. Intense.
CU of air pressure gauge, drifting lower.
CU of Karen, looking down at dashboard, taking a bit too long to orient to the gauges, looking up, swerving to avoid a light pole.
KAREN
Shit!
CUT TO:
Page 79.
EXT. NUCLEAR POWER PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- NIGHT 2 #
Trailer rubrail snaps the light pole like a dry twig. Barton is nearly thrown from the trailer as it whips back and forth. He grabs a tiedown rope and holds on for dear life.
DRIVING PAST SEVERAL BUILDINGS, AND A LARGE SIGN "Trucks -- Receiving". The flow of liquid slows to a dribble. Barton throws the axe to the deck and climbs down from the trailer to the dromedary deck behind the cab. He leans over into the driver's side window.
BARTON
Shut'er down. I'll take it.
Karen pulls the parking brake (HISS OF AIR) and hops nimbly over the doghouse.
Barton checks out the trailer. A drop or two of liquid plunks down, here and there. A deafening ROAR beats in waves against his eardrums. He spies the rolled up tarpaulins on the barrels.
Barton unfurls Ron's two large lightweight tarps and ties them to the trailer with three or so ropes each, with a teamsters hitch that seems to almost knot itself.
Barton gets back in the cab.
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton settles hurriedly into the driver's seat and shifts into gear. Before he gets the clutch out, the low air buzzer starts BUZZING.
He shifts back to neutral and races the engine slightly to build up air.
CU of air pressure gauge, climbing slightly to just over sixty psi. Buzzer stops BUZZING.
CUT TO:
EXT. GUARD SHACK -- NIGHT 2 #
Through windows of guard shack. Guard raises an arm to check his watch, and records the time on his clipboard.
Driver's POV. Truck slows, Guard steps out of guard shack, takes back the pass, and waves them through.
BARTON
Made it.
CUT TO:
EXT. BY AVILA HOT SPRINGS RESORT -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton and Karen drop the trailer and the jodog in the large paved area outside the mineral water tubs under some trees.
Page 80.
A low branch snaps off the CB antenna. They lower the landing legs and disconnect the air hoses (including the ones from the jodog to the tractor).
As the "hot" air gladhand is disconnected, there is a CANNON-LIKE REPORT and CLANG from the back of the trailer. Barton and Karen share an inquiring glance.
They race back to inspect the damage, and find a blown apart spring brake and a lot of other crumpled trailer parts, accompanied by an EXPIRING HISS of air.
BARTON
One less thing to worry about.
Barton pulls the tractor fifth wheel pin; exchanges all the license plates, including the jodog plate, which is "J-0-D-O-G"; and moves the tractor mudflaps from their storage place on the deck to their mounting brackets on the rear.
Jodog coupling gear are prominently displayed, complete with clean fresh grease. White plastic truck mudflaps have a weathered 1976 Bicentennial motif, with a Continental sentry. The now-two-axle truck roars off to the entrance ramp to Hwy 101 southbound, bobtail.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. HWY 101 SOUTHBOUND -- NIGHT 2 #
Tractor driving down nearly deserted freeways past the Santa Barbara coast.
A Southern Pacific Railroad train zips by on a parallel track, hauling an entire mile-long trainload of piggybacks. Interesting DOPPLER EFFECTS.
CUT TO:
INT. GUARD HOUSE - NIGHT 2 #
RADIO IN GUARD HOUSE
What "spill?" You're gonna call that man at two A.M. to tell him about some orange poop in a parking lot?
CUT TO:
INT. CAB OF BARTON'S TRUCK -- NIGHT 2 #
Through the windshield, Barton's POV. Barton's driving skills are rapidly diminishing from fatigue, as his view of the road is obscured by a mermaid-like woman in a tight-fitting shimmering long red dress, ululating at a constant distance ahead. Barton involuntarily focusses on the entrancing apparition, driving straight for her.
She slowly metamorphoses into a similar figure, but with only one eye in the center of her forehead.
Page 82.
KAREN
Are you okay?
Apparition vanishes. Truck straightens out.
BARTON
Fine. Just fine. Never felt better.
KAREN
Barton, you're all over the road.
(beat)
And you don't look so good.
Barton rolls down his window and vomits while shifting gears.
BARTON
Fucking poison.
CUT TO:
EXT. BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD AT AVILA HOT SPRINGS -- NIGHT 2 #
A CHP motorcyle rolls off southbound Highway 101, accelerating lazily out of the cloverleaf. Bike begins to slow again approaching Ron's trailer loaded with drums and covered with tarpaulins. Waning motorcycle ENGINE NOISE reflects the rider's mounting suspicion about the parked trailer.
MOTORCYCLE HIGHWAY PATROLMAN parks the bike; early morning QUIET. He unsnaps his holster, and walks all around the trailer on CRUNCHY GRAVEL.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman (heavy leather, mirror shades, six feet six inches tall) checks out the abandoned trailer cautiously but thoroughly, noting that: the trailer leans badly to the left; is placarded FLAMMABLE; has a shredded Maxi-brake; drips occasionally, a drop of which he samples for smell and (removing one glove) oily feel, working that one drop thoughtfully between his fingers and thumb. He peeks under the tarps on the Highway Patrol side, using a broken-off CB antenna lying on the side of the road to lift up the tarp. The tarp is too neat, too perfect, to his practiced eye, never been billowed by headwind, too low mileage. Leather cop saves the antenna by poking it under the ropes. He notes the tread pattern left by the tractor tires, lifting his mirror shades to get the pattern just right in memory. He ponders the jodog, still coupled to the trailer but bereft of its customary tractor coupling. He removes one glove again and places a hand on one of the trailer tires.
MOTORCYCLE HIGHWAY PATROLMAN
Still warm.
He records the license plate number on a plain sheet of paper, saddles up his cycle, and prepares to blast off. The early morning QUIET is broken by a short string of erratically driven cars. Some of the DRIVERS are vomiting as they flee their place of employment down the road apiece at the nuke plant.
Page 82.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman sniffs his finger again and takes off southbound on 101, very fast.
CUT TO:
EXT. HWY 101 SOUTHBOUND -- NIGHT 2 #
Barton's tractor bobtailing through Ventura County and suburbs of L.A.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman in hot pursuit down the Santa Barbara coast.
CUT TO:
EXT. INTERSTATE 405 SOUTHBOUND -- NIGHT 2 #
Tractor driving past sign "Los Angeles Airport 3 MI". Lots of American-type billboards.
Barton looking quite green, but very alert. Karen looking quite concerned.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman espies Barton's bobtail tractor.
Tractor driving past sign "Los Angeles Airport Next Right". More billboards.
Tractor driving past sign "Los Angeles Airport". Heavy traffic slows, comes to a halt.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman zips between the lanes, approaches Barton's tractor just as his tires stop rolling and the tread pattern stands up for inspection by the leather cop's practiced eye. Cop also takes note of the jodog coupling gear, prominently displayed on the ass end of the tractor.
CUT TO:
EXT. LONG APPROACH TO LAX -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
Lots of billboards. Tractor driving past sign "Long Term Parking", "Departing Flights", "Eastern Delta TWA". Motorcycle Highway Patrolman follows at a distance.
CUT TO:
EXT. LAX -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
Barton and Karen are boarding a free shuttle bus, baggage in hand, at a kiosk within plain sight of the tractor.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman parks his bike by the abandoned tractor. He does a quick, efficient search of the unlocked truck, slipping Barton's abandoned pistol into the leather uppers of his boot. He pays particular attention to the abandoned shipping papers.
Page 83.
CUT TO:
INT. SHUTTLE BUS -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
The shuttle bus has a half dozen passengers besides Karen and Barton. GROUND WORKERS getting off work are dozing. GROUND WORKERS going to work are talking shop. STEWARDESSES sit stoically. Barton is wearing steet clothes, topped by Karen's fashionable jacket. He looks near death. Mini-billboards advertise healthcare, dentists, etc. on bus.
GROUND WORKER #1
And then, to make it even crazier, you don't even get to do your own preflight.
GROUND WORKER #2
That's crazy. United would never do a crazy thing like that.
BARTON
This is my stop.
KAREN
Drive safe!
BARTON
Yeah. Or whatever.
Barton and Karen shake hands; eye contact. SHUTTLE BUS DRIVER brings her vehicle smartly to a halt curbside.
SHUTTLE BUS DRIVER
Inland Empire, Braniff, Continental, Pan Am.
KAREN
Goodbye Barton.
BARTON
Goodbye.
Barton steps out of the bus, bag in hand. Sexless female voice drones over the PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEM.
P.A.
The white zone is for loading and unloading of passengers and baggage only. No Parking! The white zone is for loading...
CUT TO:
INT. PAN AM TICKET LOBBY -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
Automatic doors slide open. Barton walks to the leftmost ticket counter. Two other AIRLINE CUSTOMERS are in front of him.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT (middle aged, male) and nondescript AIRLINE CUSTOMER #1 are in the midst of a complicated transaction.
Page 84.
Airline customer #2 is Bob Richards; he eyes Barton for a little while, and then speaks to him.
BOB RICHARDS
Where ya headed?
CUT TO:
EXT. WHITE ZONE AT LAX TERMINAL -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman parks his bike in the White Zone, nods to a L.A.P.D. cop writing tickets, and strides inside the terminal.
BARTON V.O.
Just travelling. How about you?
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
Goin' to the West Indies. Gonna give'em hell!
CUT TO:
EXT. NUCLEAR PLANT CONSTRUCTION SITE -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
The shift is changing at the nuclear plant. WORKERS and OFFICE PERSONNEL are arriving in their cars; other Workers are getting to their cars and preparing to leave. Looks of embarrassment as Workers and Office Personnel vomit uncontrollably, while attempting to maintain a serious demeanor. A hurried evacuation ensues. Vomit and orange asphalt are everywhere. Evacuation completely bogs down in a massive traffic tieup along the two lane road from the plant.
BARTON V.O.
I'm going to the Caribbean.
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
Same thing! Same goddamned thing! West Indies has more of a businesslike ring to it. Which island you going to? Name's Robert Richards, by the way. Everybody calls me Bob.
CUT TO:
INT. PAN AM AIRLINE TERMINAL -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman in full leathers and mirror shades.
Page 85.
this page blank
Page 86.
BARTON V.O.
(shaking hands)
Pleased to meet you, Bob.
(beat)
Which island? All of them, I guess.
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
Gonna hop around, eh? Let me give you a tip -- I've been all over that neck of the woods. I know the terrritory, as they say.
CUT TO:
EXT. MBI TRUCKSTOP IN KETTLEMAN CITY -- DAYBREAK DAY 2 #
BACKGROUND -- Ron and Mercedes Driver are making love quite fiercely in the sleeper of Ron's tractor.
Mercedes Driver is digging her fingernails into Ron's back, which only makes him thrust harder.
FOREGROUND -- Bicycle-bell gearshift and top one third of gearshift rod of the type used on a thirteen-speed Roadranger transmission installed in a conventional tractor.
Two California Highway Patol cars pull a grim dawn raid on Ron's tractor (and Mercedes Driver's Mercedes) in the parking lot of the MBI truckstop. They encircle the truck.
The cops BANG on the doors, Gestapo-like.
CU of lettering on truck: "Ronald and Elvira Groomes Owner/Operators".
RON
Now what in hell is that all about?
Mercedes Driver is simultaneously orgasmic and terrified.
Ron reaches behind the driver's seat and pulls out a sawed-off doublebarrel shotgun which has the stock whittled down to a hefty pistolgrip -- a very serious weapon.
PATROLMAN #1 O.S.
(getting out a Miranda card)
CHP! You have the right to
RON
If y'all'er the Highway Patrol, whyn'choo stick yer badge on the windshield so's I kin have a little look at'er?
CUT TO:
INT. PAN AM TICKET LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
Barton and Bob Richards are still standing in line at the ticket counter.
Page 87.
BARTON
Great! What's the tip?
BOB RICHARDS
Grenada!
CUT TO:
INT. PAN AM AIRLINE TERMINAL -- DAY 2 #
Simultaneous voiceovers, while leather cop continues to stalk his prey in the terminal building.
BARTON V.O.
Grenada.
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
Little pissant island, you could damn near spit across it. No kiddin, just a little fuckin' dot on the goddamn map, no bigger than a pimple on a mosquito's balls.
BARTON V.O.
Oh yeah?
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
You bet! Fuckin' place is gonna pop like a pistol. Wheel and deal! That's how you got to do it, wheel and deal.
BARTON V.O.
What do you mean, "pop"? I really just want to relax.
BOB RICHARDS V.O.
No problem! No problem! Best damn beach in the basin. If you get down there, look me up. I got a little place, no big deal. See, we don't get too many Americans. It'll be good to get a few of us Yankees down there. Most of'em left cause of all the hootin' and hollerin' after the Jewel took over.
CUT TO:
INT. COP CAR -- DAY 2 #
Ron and Mercedes Driver are in the back of a CHP car, being interrogated by two Highway Patrolmen. The car is parked in a nondescript off-highway location.
Both Highway Patrolman #1 and #2 have assumed that Mercedes Driver is a bimbo that Ron picked up on the road, despite the Mercedes.
Page 88.
CHP RADIO SQUAWK
Three axle truck-tractor, last seen Region Three...
PATROLMAN #2
(leaning back to talk to Ron)
Let's take it from the top. After you left the coffeeshop, you came back to the tractor...
RON
I already told ya, I ain't been outa that cottonpickin' parkin' lot since yesterday.
PATROLMAN #2
(leaning back, assaulting Ron physically with great savagery)
Listen, you dumb hillbilly...
PATROLMAN #1
What about your friend there? Cat got her tongue? Un-co-op-er-a- tive?
MERCEDES DRIVER
(authoritatively)
You, young man, will never, ever, be a sergeant. I'll see to it. Personally.
A San Luis Obispo county Sheriff's car pulls up with the Guard in the passenger seat.
DEPUTY
(rolling down car window)
Seen this guy before.?
GUARD
Hell, I don't know. That's his clothes for sure. And I seen those naked ladies on that trailer'a his. And I got that license plate down to the last number. Now didn't I?
DEPUTY
Do you know what positive identification means?
GUARD
I been in security for twenny two years, sonny...
CHP RADIO SQUAWKS unintelligibly. Patrolman #2 listens to it intently.
Page 89.
PATROLMAN #2
(to Patrolman #1)
Shit! That's the State Attorney-General's fucking wife!
CUT TO:
INT. PAN AM TICKET LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
Bob Richards plucks a leather cardcase from his jacket pocket, picks out an embossed business card, and hands it to Barton.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
(impatiently; no inflection in his voice)
May I help you sir.
BOB RICHARDS
Here you go!
Bob Richards pushes his ticket across the counter. The ticket appears impeccably ordered.
The agent has no problems with it, shuffles through all the papers and forms only once, writes out a boarding pass, and hands the ticket back to Bob.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
Have a pleasant flight. You depart from gate 86. Be there twenty minutes early for boarding.
Bob Richards sweeps the packet off the counter cleanly. He points the packet at Barton; "you're next".
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
May I help you sir.
BARTON
Yeah. I want to go to Grenada.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
Sir we fly to Trinidad and Barbados. Change flights in Miami and Trinidad if you are going to Grenada.
BARTON
Trinidad. Barbados.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
Perhaps your travel agent can help you. There are people waiting.
Barton looks uneasily at the one way mirror behind Ticket Agent.
BARTON
I was one of them.
Page 90.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
We have connecting flights arriving in Trinidad at eight seventeen A.M. and ten forty seven P.M. We have flights arriving in Barbados at...
BARTON
Barbados.
PAN AM TICKET AGENT
All right sir, you can have a twelve forty seven flight from gate eighty six arriving at six seventeen, and connecting with flight six forty two at nine eighteen arriving...
As Ticket Agent drones on, his voice fits more and more perfectly into the mold of the public address goddess who reigns supreme in the White Zone. Barton and Bob Richards travel through a montage of escalators, security gates, cops, airline personnel, stewardesses, guards, passengers, krishnas selling flowers and Christians selling bibles, while the female voice drones on: The White Zone is for loading...no parking..passengers and baggage...in an endless loop.
Motorcycle Highway Patrolman spots Barton's chain-drive wallet.
AT THE BOARDING GATE, BARTON COMES FACE TO FACE WITH MOTORCYCLE HIGHWAY PATROLMAN, who removes his mirror shades. The Leather Cop and the Criminal make eye contact -- and for whatever reason, the Leather Cop lets him go.
The chanting stops; Barton is falling fast asleep in an airline seat, listening blurrily to
BOB RICHARDS O.S.
(in his capitalist patois)
It's revolutionary. You always find your best deals from the new guys. Hell, I can work with anybody.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. MURRILL BUILDING -- DAY 2 #
Day is breaking. The financial folks of Manhattan are already going to work. Building has a prominent sabre tooth tiger logo over the main entrance. Brinkmann steps out of his dark blue limousine with personalized New York license plates.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL BUILDING LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
An express elevator stops at the lobby floor; another logo. Several EMPLOYEES in business suits, including Karen, are already aboard.
Page 91.
The conversation centers around the corporate track and field team, and discussion of the movie being shot on location in and around the Murrill Building ("It's kind of boring, really, don't you think?"; "Yeah, I thought it would be more, you know, Hollywood.").
Steiner, carrying soft luggage with a shiny metal tennis racket sticking out, has been waiting for the elevator with his Protege and Brinkmann.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL BUILDING ELEVATOR -- FLUORESCENT LIGHT DAY 2 #
Steiner (acknowledging Karen) and his Protege (ignoring her) continue their conversation as they board the car and continue to the sixty-first floor. Track team conversation lapses, as Employees eavesdrop on Steiner.
PROTEGE
...we think the schooldistricts will snap up the Powerhouse issue at par. We negotiated our price down to seventy-nine...
STEINER
Negotiated offering? Good. Competitive bids were always a pain in the you know where.
BRINKMANN
What the hell's a powerhouse?
PROTEGE
Powerhouse? The new utility package? Zero coupon, variable interest. Mixed maturities, starts...
BRINKMANN
What the hell's a powerhouse?
PROTEGE
Put Power in your Portfolio at the Powerhouse?
(beat)
That's us. I put a full write-up on your desk. Remember, we trademarked last week. Nuclear bonds...
STEINER
(mildly shocked)
What?`
PROTEGE
Power Bonds. Nuclear bonds.
STEINER
(laughing)
Bonds! For a minute there I thought you said Bombs. Nuclear Bombs.
Page 92.
General laughter, except for Karen, who is shocked.
PROTEGE
(earnestly, pointing to his briefcase)
That's another update we ought to touch bases on, but we're going online with the Peace Portfolio just as soon as it comes up from Legal. We've lined up Rockwell, Lockheed, E.G. and G., and...
STEINER
(paternalistically, tapping his Protege on the chest)
There's one thing you've got to remember about defense offerings: There's a helluva lot more people living off those bombs than dying from them.
Karen is shocked and appalled.
Elevator door opens at the 61st floor. It is a plush dedicated lobby. Prominent brass plaque says Murrill with a rearing sabre tooth tiger logo. Steiner and his Protege are disgorged. The self-parkers and subway riders continue up one more floor, resuming the discussion of the times and training schedule of the track team and the film crew. Elevator door opens at the 62nd floor. Brinkmann continues up to the 63rd floor.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL OFFICE -- BRIGHT FLUORESCENT LIGHT DAY #
Karen walks past a maze of cubicles, arranged in order of increasing privacy and rank, painted mostly beige, to a locked corner window office. Tiger logos here and there. Other employees fan out to cubicles and offices, switching their computer terminals on as they arrive at their workstations.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S CORNER OFFICE -- DAY 2 #
VERY SUBDUED INDIRECT FLUORESCENT LIGHT. Karen's office is Spartanly well-appointed. Track lights are in an ellipse to the front and sides of the desk.
The colors are bright, the furniture contemporary and ergonomic. Two innocuous corporate paintings hang on adjacent walls.
A small sculpture in bronze is, upon examination, an abstract dollar sign.
Prominent on the desk are a VDT, the proprietary Quotron-type machine, and a PBX telephone.
Page 93.
Karen switches on a tracklight, then another tracklight. She takes off her jacket and settles in to work; she flips on the corporate computer terminal and the Quotron machine.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S MONITOR -- PHOSPHORESCENT VDT ILLUMINATION DAY 2 #
POV Karen, VDT and detached keyboard, displaying only the MONITOR and Karen's fingers. The Monitor is not yet very busy and only running foreign quotations and newsbriefs. Loud ELECTRONIC HUM from the terminal, including a COOLING FAN. BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT displays output from the corporate mainframe in one SILENT simultaneous screenful. MONITOR displays input from Karen's fingers character by character, accompanied by audible CLICKING.
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
...........GOVERNMENT INDICATORS CPI 267 BASE 100 '67; MONTH TO MONTH ADJUSTED MALE EMPLOYMENT 88 PCT; HOUSING STARTS DOWN 1.1 PCT PREV YR; YEAR TO DATE HOUSING STARTS ANN. ADJ. 4.4 M.............DODGE REPORTS TO FOLLOW.........................
Karen types a few commands at the detached keyboard.
MONITOR
(clicking)
1117 R J 6 B COASTAL POWER AN
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
COASTAL POWER AND LIGHT SYMB NYSE PWR
MONITOR
(clicking)
@@1980@@1981@@@ STK $////STK VOL
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
{A graph of share price and trading volume for PWR vs months of 1980 and 1981.}
MONITOR
(clicking)
FILES@PWR
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
NORM UNDERWRITINGS OFFERING FILINGS ISSUES SHELF INS
MONITOR
(clicking)
INS?
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
A I
Page 94.
INS=INSURANCE....SPACE BAR FOR MORE
Rapid fire CLICKING.
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT (cont.)
(silent)
A I
INSURANCE : COVERAGE -------CARRIERS -- ----- RISK CATEGORIES -------TURNOVER --
????????SELECT ONE????????
MONITOR
(clicking)
CARRIERS...GWP
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
NORM
CARRIERS, INSURANCE. GWP????????????
KAREN V.O.
Stupid son of a bitch. G-W-P!
MONITOR
(clicking)
GROSS WRITTEN PREMIUMS
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
NORM
?CONTINENTAL 400 K MULT ACC PLANT LIAB
?INTERSTATE 50 K SINGLE ACC PLANT LIAB
?MUTUAL 2 M ENVIR DIST
?NORTHEAST 300 M PROP FIRE
?PROVINCIAL 60 K EMP THEFT AND PILF
?NEW YORK HLTH40 M EMP HOSP AND BEN
?SINCERE 2000 M ENVIR IMP AND RESTOR
?CHARTER 640 M INT AND DEDUCT
MONITOR
(clicking)
FILE@SINCERE/PWR
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
NORM
F SINCERE/ F PWR
SINCERE 2000 M ENVIR IMP AND REST -- - A--- --B--- --C-- -D- --- --E-
????????
MONITOR
(clicking)
2000 M ----- B
Page 95.
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent; slightly slower response time)
NORM + 1
2000 M = 2 000 000 000
MONITOR
(clicking)
MORE
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent; much slower response time)
NORM + 1 + 1
2000 M = 2 000 000 000 = $2,000,000,000
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S CORNER OFFICE -- DAY 2 #
CU Karen, astounded that her very own company is at risk for the damages to the Devil's Valley nuclear power plant.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S MONITOR -- PHOSPHORESCENT VDT ILLUMINATION DAY 2 #
MONITOR
(clicking)
MORE
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent;much slower response time)
A I
THAT'S TWO BILLION DOLLARS
MONITOR
(clicking)
C + D + E
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
NORM
C+D+E ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT AND RESTORATION
MONITOR
(clicking)
MORE
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent; much slower response time)
A I
Page 96.
THIS IS AN INSURANCE POLICY THAT COVERS LOSS BY COASTAL LIGHT AND POWER (THE UTILITY) IN CONNECTION WITH ANY ENVIRONMENTAL DISTURBANCE, NATURAL OR OTHERWISE, ON INSURED'S PROPERTY OR THIRD PARTY PROPERTY.
MONITOR
(click)
A
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
A I
BEST'S REPORTS ON SINCERE ASSURANCE AND CASUALTY GROUP:
{Typical Best's report on medium size insurance outfit,e.g. Fireman's Fund.} A WHOLLY OWNED SUBSIDIARY OF MLI HOLDINGS.{Similar report on e.g. American Express}
MONITOR
(clicking)
MLI???????????????????
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent; scrolling , as if about to recite a real megillah)
A I
MLI HOLDINGS IS A DIVERSIFIED FINANCIAL STRUCTURE : ---MURRILL LUNCH INCORPORATED --- MURRILL LUNCH CAPITAL MARKETS --- MURRILL LUNCH OVERSEAS FINANCIAL FUND --- THE FUND OF FUNDS ---MLI-KORNFELD ASSOCIATES -- -CONTINENTAL/MLI INSURANCE --- THE SINCERE GROUP
KAREN
No shit! We're holding the bag for that stupid nuke plant?
Karen cuts the recitation short:
MONITOR
(clicking)
A J 6
BIG BROTHER MONITOR OUTPUT
(silent)
10 -- 4
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S CORNER OFFICE -- DAY 2 #
Karen reaches for the telephone and dials a three digit number.
Page 97.
KAREN
(into telephone)
This is Karen. Upstairs.
SYNTHESIZED VOICE
Yes?
KAREN
(into telephone)
Do we own Sincere Insurance?
SYNTHESIZED VOICE
As of last Friday.
KAREN
(into telephone)
As of last Friday?
SYNTHESIZED VOICE
(reprimanding)
There was a meeting.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Yeah, I was out of town. Gotta catch up. Okay, thanks. 'Bye.
SYNTHESIZED VOICE
Have a nice day!
Karen abruptly leaves her desk, abandoning everything as is (even her coat) and rushes out of her office.
CUT TO:
EXT. LOBBY OF MANHATTAN APARTMENT BUILDING -- DAY 2 #
Karen rushes into her polished brass and glass apartment building. She walks purposefully to the elevator.
CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY -- DAY 2 #
Electronic HUM. A key turns in a series of three deadbolts. A second key turns in a fourth lock, and HUM ceases.
Door opens inward.
CUT TO:
INT. KAREN'S APARTMENT -- DAY 2 #
Karen enters her apartment, and goes swiftly through the entrance hallway, the living room, the dining area, an exercise-meditation room, and to her bedroom and adjoining office-study.
The study is a mini-version of her office at work, minus the corner windows, plus a few softer touches, like a doll on a chair, and a cage with four pet birds.
Page 98.
A Compaq portable personal computer and a Quotron machine are on the desk, and a telephone with only a few buttons. Karen sits down at the desk and fires up the computer while dialling the telephone. She reaches the RECEPTIONIST of her private broker, LIZ GORDON.
RECEPTIONIST O.S.
Peabody Burns, your Securities Supermarket. Good Morning.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Ms. Gordon, please.
RECEPTIONIST O.S.
She's on another line. Do you wish to hold, or shall I take your name and a number where ...
KAREN
(into telephone, firmly)
Just tell her Miss Schuler is on the line to make a trade.
RECEPTIONIST O.S.
I'll tell her, miss. Please hold.
(pause)
She'll be right with you.
Karen, meanwhile, punches several keys on the computer.
MONITOR
PWR ASK 10 1/8 BID 10 1/8 LAST 9 5/8 7/7/81 0900
KAREN
Liz? Yeah, Karen. I want to buy P-W-R long 1500 shares at the market.
(pause)
Yeah, I know. It's partly on margin.
MONITOR
PWR ASK 10 1/2 BID 10 3/8 LAST 10 1/8 7/7/81 0910
KAREN
Okay, I'll be in touch.
Karen settles down to watch the screen. Amongst other quotes flying by at faster-then-life speed across the screen, PWR climbs to 11 1/4. The computer bell BUZZES every time PWR comes across the screen.
MONITOR
(window above "data")
UTILITY UPDATE:..........COASTAL POWER AND LIGHT SYMB NYSE PWR HAS REPORTED A NON-NUCLEAR INCIDENT AT DEVIL'S UNITS 1 AND 2.
(more)
Page 99.
MONITOR (Cont'd)
NO DETAILS HAVE BEEN RELEASED. COASTAL MGMT SAYS NO DAMAGE OR INJURIES HAVE BEEN REPORTED.
MONITOR
PWR ASK 12 1/2 BID 12 1/4 LAST 12 1/2 7/7/81 912
MONITOR
UTILITY UPDATE: NUCLEAR CONSTRUCTION HAS BEEN HALTED AT DEVIL'S I, COASTAL P AND L ....
UTILITY UPDATE: COASTAL'S TROUBLES "ENVIRONMENTAL IN ORIGIN" MGMT SAYS.
CU of Karen, with a definite eureka on her face. Karen redials a one digit number.
KAREN
(into telephone)
Ms Gordon, please.
MONITOR
UTILITY UPDATE: COASTAL "FULLY INSURED" --- MGMT
KAREN
(into telephone)
Liz, I got a buy I want to make on MLI put options. You ready?
LIZ GORDON O.S.
MLI put options on futures index on the Amex. Ready.
KAREN
(into telephone)
September puts, strike price 14,20,22,24, at the market, in the money one hundred thousand at five percent.
LIZ GORDON O.S.
One hundred thousand dollars?
KAREN
(into telephone)
Sell everything to make it up.
CUT TO:
INT. YELLOW STOCK BROKERAGE CUBICLE -- DAY 2 #
BRIGHT FLUORESCENT LIGHT. Liz Gordon's cubicle, identical to the cubicles at Karen's firm, but painted mostly yellow. Liz is moderately well-dressed, plain looking, conscientious, with a well-ordered desk.
Page 100.
LIZ GORDON
(into telephone)
Sell everything? The P-W-R?
KAREN O.S.
Yeah, made a few bucks.
(beat)
Everything.
(beat)
Even the IBM.
Liz hangs up, writes an order, and places it on her desk, where she had been reading Barron's. A male BROKER, a technical-securities-nerd type, passes the cubicle holding a copy of Women's Financial Times. Karen's picture is featured on the cover, under the headline "Making News at Murrill".
The subheadline reads "Murrill Analyst Calls the Close Ones".
BROKER IN NEW YORK
(unfurling newspaper)
Don't you know her?
LIZ GORDON
Not personally.
BROKER IN NEW YORK
(staring at order on top of pile)
Professionally?
LIZ GORDON
She's not my type.
Male Broker reads the order closely, as Liz snaps it away.
BROKER IN NEW YORK
Yeah. See you later.
LIZ
(sotto voce)
Schmuck.
Broker sits down in his cubicle next door. He sells a few thousand shares of MLI short for some of his more speculative clients, and buys a few put options for a few of the traders in the office. MONITOR shots. Telephone RINGS.
BROKER IN NEW YORK
(into telephone #1)
Yeah. Short. MLI all you got.
BROKER IN NEW YORK (cont.)
(into telephone #2)
Yeah?
(pause)
No, just a hunch.
(pause)
No, they're just a competitor.
(more)
Page 101.
BROKER IN NEW YORK (Cont'd)
Just a little item I "Heard on the Street". Heh heh heh.
(a creepy laugh)
Yeah, later.
Broker hangs up the telephone. RINGS again.
BROKER IN NEW YORK (cont.)
Roberta? Lunch today? No. I can't make it.
(pause)
Something's come up. Can't leave the desk.
(pause)
Yeah, it's hot. No, I can't tell you. It's "classified". Heh Heh Heh.
(pause)
You will?
(quietly, with a lascivious grin)
MLI short. One of their top people traded a block of five grand short interest nine hundred.
(pause)
Yeah. Today.
(pause)
Right. It's hot.
(pause)
Yeah. Tomorrow after work.
CUT TO:
INT. ORANGE STOCKBROKERAGE CUBICLE -- DAY 2 #
BRIGHT FLUORESCENT LIGHT. Another identical cubicle, but mostly orange. ROBERTA (a Karen lookalike, but younger) is smashing away at the keyboard with the telephone parked under one ear, calling her clients.
ROBERTA
(into telephone)
It's hot. Some kind of nuclear exposure.
CUT TO:
INT. MANHATTAN BROKERAGE CUBICLES, VARIOUS COLORS -- DAY 2 #
BRIGHT FLUORESCENT LIGHT. All over town, like a school of sharks tearing the flesh of a wounded schoolmate, the brokers are going short on one of their own. Frenzied trading drives the shares of MLI down 60% before lunch. Between scenes of various brokerages, insert the next five sequences.
CUT TO:
Page 102.
INT. INDOOR MANHATTAN TENNIS CLUB -- DAY 2 #
Steiner from Fixed Income at Murrill walks to the registration desk across from the plexiglassed handball courts of his Club, in tennis togs, racket in hand. Upwardly mobile young Brokers and OTHER MEMBERS are stopping in for an early workout, toting their rackets and bags. Steiner takes the telephone from the TENNIS CLUB ATTENDANT. It's a cordless, so he moves away from the desk to talk to
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (O.S.)
What the hell kind of order is this you left on my machine?
STEINER
(into telephone)
Nothing, Harry, nothing. Me and the wife want to take a little vacation, is all.
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (O.S.)
On ten thousand shares of your own House? You know I can't execute that! The Commission will be all over us like stink on shit!
STEINER
(into telephone)
If you can't handle it, Harry...
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (O.S.)
Don't worry, I can handle it. But it will take a little extra effort. Remember what we had to do to take care of Atari.
STEINER
(into telephone)
No problem, Harry. What do you need?
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (O.S.)
Not much. Ten percent. You know, you're frontrunning your own stock. That's ...
STEINER
(into telephone)
No problem. Ten percent? No problem. No Problemo, Hombre.
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (O.S.)
Okay. See you at the luncheon. Bye.
STEINER
(into telephone)
Yeah. Bye.
CUT TO:
Page 103.
INT. KAREN'S APARTMENT -- DAY 2 #
Karen is packing a shoulder travel bag with the essentials. She starts to zip it up, reconsiders, and tosses in the doll from the chair. She opens a window and frees the birds. She shuts off the computer as she passes by on the way out of the room.
She leaves Mara a note on the chalkboard by the refrigerator, as she passes by on the way out the door -- "In Coffeeshop."
CUT TO:
EXT. A DINER IN CALIFORNIA -- DAY 2 #
Breen from Coastal drives up to a diner on an isolated stretch of Highway 101.
CUT TO:
INT. A DINER IN CALIFORNIA -- DAY 2 #
Breen enters the Diner, orders a cup of coffee at the counter, and heads immediately for the pay phone near the restrooms.
He looks around the area of the telephone and in the mensroom, and even takes a peek in the women's powder room. Satisfied that he is unobserved, he makes a credit card call on the pay phone to his BROKER IN SAN FRANCISCO.
While Breen is thus engaged, two WORKERS IN HARDHATS at the counter are discussing the nuke plant under construction, sketching on napkins.
WORKER IN HARDHAT #1
Look, see, there were pipes in Unit One that were just like the pipes in Unit Two, but these were righthand pipes, and the ones in unit two were lefthand pipes. But these assholes, they used the drawing for Unit One to prefab the shit. So it's all fucked up. It's assbackwards.
Worker in Hardhat #2 stirs his coffee and shakes his head.
CUT TO:
EXT. SAN FRANCISCO SKYLINE -- DAY #
ESTABLISHING SHOT. Prominent Transamerica Pyramid.
CUT TO:
INT. SAN FRANCISCO STOCKBROKERAGE -- DAY 2 #
The San Francisco brokerage house looks about the same as the ones in New York, only the account executives look slightly healthier sitting in their cubicles tending their Quotron machines.
Page 104.
BROKER IN SAN FRANCISCO
(into telephone)
You wanna buy three thousand shares of what?
(pause)
I realize you work there. That's why you ought to know better.
(pause)
Inside information, huh? What'd you do, figure out how to make electricity from earthquakes?
(pause)
You should pardon me for saying so about your beloved employer, but it's a dog. You wanna buy it? Good! I got lots of clients right here in California that will be more than happy to sell you theirs. You won't even have to go through the Exchange.
(pause)
You're gonna get killed, is all. In order for you to come out, you'd have to hide that nuke plant of yours under your pillow and start believing in the tooth fairy, to come and take it away while you're asleep. Then you'd come out. I wanna tell you somethin', and this isn't in the papers. For your information, everytime one of those stupid nuke plants is cancelled, I sit here and watch the shareprice of the company that cancelled it go up. They take it on the chin for three billion, four billion, five billion dollars -- and the stock goes up! Those nukes are such bad news, unless you cancel'em -- then they're good news. They're Wall Street's whores, and we run the whorehouse. Everybody gets fucked. Buy IBM!
(pause)
Hey, it's your funeral.
Broker hangs up the telephone.
CUT TO:
EXT. AMERICAN STOCK EXCHANGE -- DAY 2 #
Following Karen as she steps out of a classic Checker taxicab, talks to the CABBIE, a seasoned New York veteran taxicab driver ("Wait, please"), and descends to the trading floor.
CUT TO:
INT. AMERICAN STOCK EXCHANGE -- DAY 2 #
The usual absolutely incredible mania of the Floor. Karen stands transfixed, as if in a very NOISY temple.
Page 105.
She turns to go, spots her prey, and buttonholes a very busy MARKETMAKER EMPLOYEE, who just got done shouting and waving on the Floor.
KAREN
(displaying some paperwork)
How many trading days to settle this?
MARKETMAKER EMPLOYEE
You know the rules, sweetheart. Five.
Karen displays fifty one hundred dollar bills.
MARKETMAKER EMPLOYEE (cont.)
Three.
Karen displays a bindle of coke wrapped in a stock certificate.
MARKETMAKER EMPLOYEE (cont.)
One.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL BUILDING 63RD FLOOR EXECUTIVE OFFICE -- DAY 2 #
Brinkmann stands behind his desk berating a group of top executives from Murrill on the 61st, seated in front of desk. The group includes Steiner from Karen's Fixed Income department, who has been hauled in to the meeting directly from the tennis club still dressed for tennis; and MORRIS, Murrill's Vice President of Internal Operations, who is an ex-CIA man and is now in the intelligent private sector doing security work. The office is luxurious, but nonetheless has the ambience of a beleaguered Field Marshall's tent. Stylized tiger logos on various everyday objects -- the pen and pencil set, the back of the chair, the coffee cups, etc.
BRINKMANN
(directing his remarks to Steiner, while pouring himself a Maalox)
You mean to tell me that one of your people did this? Who was it?
Steiner points to picture in Women's Financial Times.
BRINKMANN
Her!
(to Morris)
I thought I told you to have your people keep an eye on her! That cunt! Miserable ungrateful little bitch! I just promoted her ass! Where is she?
STEINER
I don't know.
Page 106.
BRINKMANN
(to Morris)
You find her!
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL BUILDING 61ST FLOOR RECEPTION LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
A PR Man from Murrill is giving evasive answers to REPORTERS, who are jammed up against the walls, sitting on desks, perched on chairbacks, etc. The Reporters are waiting for the Word from Murrill's brass.
Brinkmann finally appears flanked by Steiner aand others in expensive conservative business suits.
MURRILL PR MAN
...in answer to your question, at this time, we have no information which would relate the share price of MLI common to any irregularities in our normal market-making activities in any related securities. And now
(relieved that Brinkmann finally appeared)
I am going to turn this over to Mr Brinkmann.
BRINKMANN
As you all know, MLI is a diversified financial organization with extensive activities in corporate finance, investment banking, risk arbitrage, bond trading, underwriting, mortgage syndication, institutional portfolio management, and related fields.
REPORTER #1
What about insurance?
BRINKMANN
Yes, we are involved in insurance through our subsidiary MLI Continental.
REPORTER #2
What about Sincere? Are you going to pay off the nuke plant?
BRINKMANN
Sincere Assurance division of Continental has gross written premiums of over six billion dollars and adequate reserves and reinsurance far exceeding any exposure to any event. Nuclear or otherwise. Through the Utility Bond Insurance Corporation. Our Protection Connection.
CU Reporter's pad, jotting down "UBIC ????????"
Page 107.
REPORTER #5
Aren't most of Sincere's reserves in Continental stock? Did one of your lenders sell some collateral?
REPORTER #3 O.S.
(sotto voce to Reporter #2, pointing to pad)
What the fuck is that?
REPORTER #2
(sotto voce, to Reporter #3)
Probably some scam they thought up last week to fool the school districts some more.
REPORTER #1
(joining the shop talk)
Ain't deregulation a trip?
BRINKMANN
That's all we have to say. At this time. Other than that we believe that we have always acted, and will in the future continue to act, in such manner as is consistent with the maintenance of fair and orderly markets and the protection of investors.
REPORTER #3
Are you going to pay up on that nuke plant or not?
REPORTER #2
Did one of your brokers work an inside deal?
REPORTER #4
Are you going to stay in the insurance business?
REPORTER #3
(nearly drowned out by other Reporters, holding up a photo)
Where is she?
CUT TO:
EXT. JFK AIRPORT -- DAY 2 #
Checker taxicab roars up to the white zone of Eastern Airlines terminal at JFK. NYC COP is writing up a parking ticket on someone who is still in their car.
CABBIE
Fouahty six minutes. Dhat's steppin' on it, lady.
Karen steps out of the cab and pays the driver with a hundred dollar bill.
Page 108.
She appears to have gained fifteen pounds and wears a slouching straw hat that covers most of her head.
KAREN
Thanxamillion. I appreciate it. Keep the change.
CUT TO:
EXT. TENNIS COURT -- DAY 2 #
Steiner has a heart attack and dies on the court.
CUT TO:
INT. EASTERN AIRLINES LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
Karen is second in line to buy a ticket. Eastern Airlines logos and nameplates prominent on walls, counters, uniforms, etc. Finally,
KAREN
(clutching an Eastern timetable)
I'd like a ticket to Trinidad, please.
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
And will you be purchasing that with a credit card or Eastern Travel Card?
CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALLWAY -- DAY 2 #
A beefy, well-dressed INTERNAL OPERATIONS WORKER from Murrill expertly jimmy's all three deadbolts. A dog barks, at irregular intervals. Internal Operations Worker zaps the electronic intrusion detector. Dogs cease barking.
He lets himself in, takes a quick look around, walks through a few rooms, and finds the computer.
After leafing through the diskettes on the desk, he fires up the machine, reads the directory on the file, boots up Karen's trading program, and zeroes in on the record of Karen's last trades.
Finally, he scoops up the diskettes, bundles up the transportable computer, and hustles out the door, locking all three deadbolts when he leaves.
CUT TO:
EXT. APARTMENT WHITE ZONE -- DAY 2 #
Morris is parked in front of the apartment house; his electronic eavesdropper emits a steady BEEP BEEP BEEP.
CUT TO:
Page 109.
INT. SECURITY SHOP, MURRILL BASEMENT -- SUBDUED LIGHT #
Intense electronic HUM. Monitors and consoles line the walls of a small room in the basement of Murrill Lunch's headquarters building. Morris observes as his TECHNICIAN and OPERATIVES shoot the breeze and fiddle with all the machinery. Operatives are dressed nearly identically to each other, and to Bob Richards. Karen's little PC is on a table. It is shaking hands with the corporate mainframe,being interrogated.
PC MONITOR
Static...Static.. more static.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #1 OUTPUT
(scrolling)
?FILE 0.
?SCHULER KAREN
?S FEMALE
?D.O.B. 12@20@49
?H 5 FT 7 IN
?W 117 LB 50 KG
?D L NY M59918
?SS 155 34 9884
?EID 1117
?WORK CODE 6
MORRIS
(punching a button)
Can the crap.
OPERATIVE #1
Yeah, who cares? We want the vital statistics.
MORRIS
(smirking,punching a button)
Okay.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #1 OUTPUT
?B 34
?W 29
?T 34
OPERATIVE #2
Not bad!
OPERATIVE #3
What'd this cunt do, anyway?
MORRIS
(punching button)
She sold the whole goddamn company short.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #2 OUTPUT
(scrolling)
RECORD OF TRADES
Page 110.
{A record of MLI common put options bought on margin, with the price of the underlying securities dropping sixty percent in two hours. Karen gets out at 15, and trading is halted at 14. The proceeds go to cash, via a gold futures account at a Swiss brokerage firm, one million dollars, paid the same day through a courtesy call between houses}
MORRIS
(punching buttons)
Unless you find her and get the money back. Then you get to keep half of hers.
OPERATIVE #1
Who gives a fuck? I was looking for a job when I found this one. Here's the dope.
MAINFRAME
(speaking with a slight electronic twang)
Ms Schuler purchased accommodations on United Airlines Flight 203 for Miami via Atlanta. Departing 3:30 PM John F Kennedy Airport.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #1 OUTPUT
(3rd line blinking, "203" inverse video)
DEPARTURECARRIER FLT#DEST $$$ STOPOVER COMMENTS
?3:15 PM DELTA 192 MIAMI 98 NONSTOP SATURDAY
?3:30 PM UNITED 203 MIAMI 90 ATLANTA DAILY
?3:28 PM AIR FLA 206 TAMPA 98 NONSTOP DAILY,HOL
?3:40 PM UA 298 MIAMI 89 NONSTOP DAILY
MORRIS
Look at this, you guys. You might learn something. A lotta times they'll buy a ticket to someplace and get off in the middle. Some of these terrorists are going halfway to Moscow. That bitch is in Atlanta, surer'n shit.
OPERATIVE #2
(punching buttons)
Atlanta. Charley Oakes.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #3 OUTPUT
CHARLEY IS ON THE SCREEN, STANDING BY. Yeah, Boss.
MORRIS
Check the airport. United. 203.
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #3 OUTPUT
CHARLEY IS ON THE SCREEN. Yeah Boss.
Page 111.
MORRIS
(punching buttons)
Now all we need to know is...
BIG BROTHER MAINFRAME MONITOR #1 OUTPUT
TICKET PURCHASED BANK TWO VISA, CARD NUMBER 4019-159-918-693
MAINFRAME
(synthesized electronic twang)
Ticket purchased by electronic funds transfer.
CUT TO:
INT. EASTERN AIRLINES LOBBY -- DAY 2 #
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
(repeating, sounding a bit synthesized herself)
Eastern Travel Card or major credit card?
KAREN
(looking a bit dazed for a moment, and then straightening up)
Cash.
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
Name?
KAREN
Pat Smith.
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
Two hundred sixty dollars. Single destination to Trinidad.
KAREN
When is the next flight?
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
(glancing at a monitor)
The next departure is in eighteen minutes, but I'm terribly sorry, Flight Number Six Seventy to Trinidad, stopping in Jamaica with service to Grand Cayman via Cayman Airways, is sold out. Our next available flight...
KAREN
(forking over six hundred dollar bills)
Keep the change?
Page 112.
EASTERN TICKET AGENT
(with a nervous glance at the monitor and at the thinning crowd, and stamping a ticket)
No bags? Seat 37 A. No smoking. Have a nice trip.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRILL BUILDING 63RD FLOOR EXECUTIVE OFFICE -- DAY 2 #
Brinkmann is cogitating, chin on fingertips, then punches his intercom.
BRINKMANN
(into intercom)
Lillian, get me Cliff Davis at Fox.
LILLIAN (O.S.)
(over intercom)
Yes, sir.
Pause. Brinkmann peers out the window.
LILLIAN (O.S.)(CONT)
(over intercom)
Mr Davis is on the phone, sir.
BRINKMANN
(picking up telephone)
Hello, Cliff. How are things in California?
CUT TO:
INT. HOLLYWOOD CEO'S OFFICE - DAY #
Deluxe office. Pictures of stars, awards, etc.
DAVIS
(into speakerphone)
Great. Just great, Mr Brinkmann. Terrific, in fact. What's up?
BRINKMANN
(over speakerphone)
Cliff, tell me -- You have a camera man at my building in New York. You do, don't you?
DAVIS
(into speakerphone, consulting a computer printout)
Yeah. They're doing a great job, aren't they? I just saw the dailies, and you're gonna love it, the way they're getting your place on the big screen. You're gonna love it, believe me!
Page 113.
BRINKMANN
(over speakerphone)
That's fine, Cliff. I want you to have your camera man film the roof. Of my building.
DAVIS
(into speakerphone)
Yeah? You do? When?
BRINKMANN
(over speakerphone)
Now. For about ... ten minutes.
DAVIS
(picking up a telephone, punching a button)
Get me Bruce Gilbert on the horn.
(hanging up telephone; punching a button, into speakerphone)
Sure, Mr Brinkmann. And, we -- I mean, I personally -- thank you for letting us on your location, and hey, that dialogue coaching, -- where could you get that kind of help? Not for a zillion bucks! You've been great! No problem with the roof, the camera -- No problem! Consider it done!
BRINKMANN
(over speakerphone)
Well, thanks, Cliff. Talk to you later.
Telephone lights up.
DAVIS
(into speakerphone)
Bruce! Hey, baby, howzit? Listen, can you get Marshall, tell him, right now! have his AD point a camera at the roof on that location in the Big Apple. If there's any problem with that, you call me. Right now.
Davis abruptly punches out.
CUT TO:
EXT. FILM CREW IN NEW YORK -- DAY #
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR is minding the store on a routine street scene of the approach to the Murrill Building.
Some of the ACTORS in This Motion Picture are, of course, BYSTANDERS, who stare curiously at the movie location and crew and gear, and trip over cables. AD's radio squawks.
AD'S RADIO
Jerome! You there?
Page 114.
AD
(turning up the volume, putting radio to ear)
Marshall?
AD'S RADIO
Jerome, lissen -- where are you? Are you set up? You got film?
AD
(into radio)
Corner of Sixty Sixth and Sixth. Yeah, we got film. Grover's still screwing around with the lights.
AD'S RADIO
Point the camera at the roof. Shoot the roof. Keep shooting the roof. Shoot the roof until you run out of film. How much film you got loaded?
AD
(glancing at camera)
Nine minutes.
AD'S RADIO
Good. Good. I'll get back to you.
SQUAWK, then CLICK.
AD
Weird.
(to his CINEMATOGRAPHER)
Did you get that?
CINEMATOGRAPHER
(repositioning the camera and changing lenses)
No problem. The Boss ordered this?
SCRIPTPERSON
(flipping pages of script)
Which scene is this?
AD
(flipping pages)
I don't know.
(flipping)
I thought they cut this.
(flipping)
I think it isn't in the script.
(beat)
Why don't they just write the damn thing and then shoot it?
CUT TO:
Page 115.
INT. A STAIRWAY LEADING TO THE ROOFTOP OF THE MURRILL SKYRISE -- #
Brinkmann from Murrill recites the following litany while ascending the stairs to the rooftop, breathing heavily from the unusual exertion. He continues while opening the steel firedoor to the rooftop, letting himself out, and walking self-importantly to the parapet.
BRINKMANN
(stentorian, businesslike)
Acquired shares which are Common Shares will upon their acquisition by restored to the status of authorized but unissued Common Shares. Acquired shares which are preferred shares will upon their acquisition be held by the Company and,
(begin MONTAGE)
consistent with the Company's undertaking in the Merger Agreement to take appropriate actions to further the consummation of the United Offer and the merger of UEA with and into the Company as contemplated by the Merger Agreement (the "Merger"), the company will, after consultation with United, either tender such Preferred Shares to United pursuant to the United Offer, convert such Preferred Shares into Common Shares, or hold such Preferred Shares pending the consummation of the United Merger.
(smiling)
The purchase of the Acquired Shares by the Company may have the effect of increasing the likelihood of United's consummation of purchases pursuant to the United Offer and the United Merger because it will reduce the total number of Common Shares and Preferred Shares United must acquire to obtain control of the Company and to ensure approval of the United Merger by the Company's shareholders. The consideration to be paid for the Acquired Shares will be the cancellation of the Note and accordingly no funds will be paid in connection with the acquisition of the Acquired Shares. After reasonable inquiry and to the best of my knowledge and belief, I certify that the information set forth in this Statement is true, complete, and correct.
Page 116.
MONTAGE accompanying Brinkmann's stairway ascent: As Brinkmann ascends the stairs, his life's story is montaged in reverse order; as he goes upward in space one flight at a time, he travels backward in time in chunks of five years or so.
He has meetings with investment bankers, labor bosses, government officials, and other CEO's; he cuts deals in smokefilled rooms and fancy restaurants, makes speeches at banquets, and signs contracts in meeting rooms. He enjoys himself at the country club and while travelling all over the world ---- all the perks. As he ascends the stairs, he descends through the ranks of middle management down to the back office, circa 1934.
{The MONTAGE is pieced together from:
1.old footage of the head and shoulders of Brinkmann in previous roles, spanning a long acting career from bit player to young movie star to old movie star, and
2.body doubles in the stages of a career in the financial services industry.}
CUT TO:
EXT. MURRILL BUILDING ROOFTOP -- DAY 2 #
Brinkmann rests his hands on the parapet.
MONTAGE shifts to people in the entranceways of the Murrill Building looking upward and being rewarded with a graceful diving performance by Brinkmann going over the parapet on the rooftop, putting himself in the hands of God, answering the Great Margin Call in the sky, in accepted Wall Street fashion. SCREECH when he hits the pavement.
END MONTAGE. Brinkmann's HELICOPTER PILOT approaches.
HELICOPTER PILOT
Are we going somewhere, Mr Brinkmann?
Brinkmann considers this for a moment, gets in copter.
BRINKMANN
Yeah. Let's take off.
Helicopter takes off. Brinkmann loosens his tie, kicks back.
CINEMATOGRAPHER
(as helicopter goes out of his frame)
Big fucking deal.
EXT. AIRPORT IN TRINIDAD -- EARLY EVENING #
Jetliner touches down with a THUD and a SCREECH of tires landing. Palm trees and brief jet REVERSE ENGINES, followed by the first faint strains of the latest in Calypso, "CAPITALISM GONE MAD", by The Mighty Sparrow.
CUT TO:
Page 117.
INT. JETLINER -- EARLY EVENING #
Karen and her fellow travellers are deplaning. Karen's seatmates are a doughy-looking YENTA from Queens and her HUSBAND who is silent. "CAPITALISM GONE MAD" is in the background.
YENTA
Deah, you have a good time heah, I know yaw gonna find a nice fella.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE STREETS OF PORT OF SPAIN -- EARLY EVENING #
Karen is a passenger in a local taxicab in Port of Spain, driving past a NOISY array of shops, clubs, and STEEL DRUM BANDS, PLAYING an instrumental of "Capitalism Gone Mad".
CUT TO:
EXT. THE DOCKS OUTSIDE PORT OF SPAIN -- EARLY EVENING #
Karen negotiates the fare with a BOAT CAPTAIN, while a ghetto blaster BLARES OUT "CAPITALISM GONE MAD", mixed so the lyrics are clearly understandable.
THE BOAT CAPTAIN'S EIGHTY FOOT FREIGHTER SHOVES OFF. BOAT DIESEL NOISE. "CAPITALISM GONE MAD" FADES OUT.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. THE DOCKS AT GRENVILLE, GRENADA W.I. -- DAY #
A beautiful sunrise over the Caribbean sea, and perfectly still. The only sound is the lap of gentle waves against the pilings of a pier and the bow of a boat tied up to the dock. Barton is propped up against a sack of grapefruit and mandarins, quietly reading the Free West Indian out of Ste George's. He is wearing jeans cut off at the thighs, a tee shirt that says "Second Anniversary of the Revolution", "Forward Ever -- Backward Never", "Peoples Revolutionary Government", and a short haircut. Prominent semiprofessional billboard on the dock says "PEOPLE NOT PROFITS -- PRG". Barton doesn't notice the freighter slipping in to the dock until the BOAT ENGINE NOISE signals its arrival.
Free West Indian cover is a photo of Maurice Bishop under the headline "New Jewel Movement -- People's Revolutionary Government -- Grenada Progressing".
Barton is WHISTLING "Capitalism Gone Mad".
Barton looks up for a moment and then goes back to the paper. He goes to meet the boat every day, but after so many days, he doesn't seriously think Karen will be on it.
The Boat Captain stops his motor twenty yards from the dock and drifts expertly in to the quay. His men tie up to the pilings, while GRENADIAN WOMEN unload empty baskets and sacks.
Page 118.
Karen's travel bag is tossed from the deck to a SAILOR, who helps Karen from the ship and then hands her the bag, while pointing to a shack at land's end that says "Immigration". Authentic DIALOGUE, with SUBTITLES. Karen shoulders the bag, and starts walking towards the shack. When she is within spitting distance of Barton, he looks up from the paper, which falls from his lap, revealing a copy of the Gleaner out of Jamaica inside.
Karen's POV.
BARTON
(surprised)
You look different.
Karen's bag hits the deck. Her hat comes off in her hand.
BARTON (cont.)
Not the hat. Like you gained some weight.
Karen's hand lifts the corner of her thigh length skirt. Barton peers into the recesses of her clothing, assuming an expression of curious modesty.
Barton's POV, looking upward. A crotch shot, showing hundred dollar bills stuffed just everywhere.
KAREN
I did put on a bit.
BARTON
How'd you do that?
KAREN
We kind of took a shit on those guys' doorstep. Let's just say I kind of knocked on the door and asked for some toilet paper.
Karen's POV.
KAREN (cont.)
You look a little different yourself.
Barton runs his fingers through his hair.
KAREN (cont.)
Not the haircut. Stand up.
He stands up.
KAREN (cont.)
Like they say in L.A. --- "or are you just glad to see me?"
CUT TO:
Page 119.
EXT. THE DOCKS AND THE BEACH, GRENVILLE -- DAY #
A Morris truck, two ton with church pew seats and a wooden canopy, drives up to the dock. Grenadian Women haul sacks of produce from the rear of the truck. Absurdly dressed TOURISTS gawk. Barton picks up Karen's bag and the two of them walk past the little truck, in which Bob Richards is a passenger, past more political education billboards ("Buy Local -- Eat Local -- Live Better -- PRG") and along the gently curving beach, while TITLES ROLL. Grenadian YOUTH on truck yell at Barton, "Hey Cubano! Hey Cubano! You fook goats, Mon?"
CUT TO:
EXT. THE BEACH, GRENVILLE -- DAY #
DURING THE CREDITS, Barton and Karen hike quite a ways up the beach. Bob Richards, looking surprisingly athletic, moves away from the Morris flatbed.
OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT. Barton and Karen, WALKING, are lensed by Bob Richards with a 35mm camera equipped with electronic zoom; Bob also adjusts his monodirectional antenna to eavesdrop on Barton and Karen's conversation. FLUTTER, BUZZ, STATIC as Bob is tuning them in.
TWO SHOT THRU BOB RICHARDS' CAMERA. Barton and Karen, talking and walking. MUSIC is LIQUIDATOR by Harry J. Allstars, looped.
A tiny digital clock image keeps time in lower right of frame, displaying tenths, seconds, minutes, hour, day, month, and year. BOB RICHARDS' CAMERA ZOOMS in on them --- Bullseye! VERY CLOSE TWO SHOT of Barton and Karen, with facial details.
KAREN V.O.
(thru the STATIC, while Bob is tuning in)
(Dialogue adjusted for length to suit the ROLL CREDITS. Karen uses the Ac-cent')
STATIC ... stocks BUZZ FLUTTER HUM the nukes STATIC Utility Vice President FLUTTER FLUTTER BZZT Fuck the public, one investor at a time ... STATIC ... speaking of fucking ...STATIC ... you ... STATIC one time...
Bob gets them tuned in with his monodirectional antenna.
Page 120.
KAREN (cont.)
...So dig it, you were, like, the answer to their prayers. Here they were, they spent all this money, you know, five billion dollars, and they were really afraid to finish it and fire it up, because then they'd be even more into it. They just wanted to quit. But they couldn't just quit, 'cause they had five billion dollars on it, just like it was blackjack or a poker game.
BARTON
Baccarat.
KAREN
Yeah, baccarat. And you saved their ass like you were James Bond. Bond, James Bond, with the truck and the chemistry and all that. James Bond, always acts like he knows just what he's doin'. Really saved their ass.
BARTON
That's fucked up, man. We didn't even mess the place up that bad, and they closed it up and locked the door and threw away the key? And that saved their ass? Who's ass?
KAREN
Who's ass? Who's ass? The Management's ass. They just collected on their insurance. The electric company, just like any other company. Filed a claim, just like any guy in business collects on his insurance. You hire an arsonist. They didn't even have to hire an arsonist. They didn't even have to pay you. So they collected on the insurance. And the insurance company bellied up.
(laughing)
Ol' Sabretooth, my former employer, "the insurance company". Now I'm self employed.
(shuffling hundred dollar bills like playing cards)
Here, let me pay myself.
(handing him a fistful of bills)
Here, let me pay you your commission.
Page 121.
BARTON
Fraud. Insurance fraud. My grandfather used to do that. In South Jersey. My dad said he did that. My dad said the old man and his insurance agent did it. Guy from Philly.
KAREN
Listen. Let me fill you in on some deep shit about power. You build a power plant. You put it out in the middle of nowhere. You put it out where they always put those things, out in the countryside somewhere. Where they've always put them. And you burn a big pile of coal out there, or a big bucket of oil, or a big pipe fulla gas, or a big nuclear reactor -- whatever -- and you make some juice. And you pay for your fuel and you sell the juice to the ratepayers. And when you're all done, you know what the efficiency of that plant is? I mean, you know how much coal energy or oil energy or nuclear energy actually got turned into juice that you actually sold for real money and how much went up the smokestack? Just up in smoke? It's 35%. Max. Most of it goes straight up the stack. Just heat. Just hot air. Just goes up the stack and out in the countryside and fucks up the ecosystem. That's not smart. Now get this. If you got a hospital in a big city, and you build a heater for it, and it heats the whole hospital, or cools it, or whatever, and you make electricity with the extra heat -- the heat that would've gone up the stack at the hospital -- 90%. Goes from 35% to 90%. Just by bringing it into town. It's that simple.
LOUD CLICK of camera shutter; screen momentarily blacks.
Page 122.
KAREN (cONT.)
So what kinda asshole bets five billion dollars on the 35% and lets the 90% bet ride? I'll tell you what kinda asshole that is. The same kind of asshole that took 25 years from the day the guy perfected the transistor until the day the Management finally threw away the last vacuum tube tester down at the supermarket. Because of those kinda assholes, it always takes 25 years. Because they're slow and they're stupid, and invested in the past.
LOUD CLICK of camera shutter; screen momentarily blacks.
KAREN (cONT.)
No. You saved their ass. That was one of those big power plants in the middle of nowhere. An anachronism under construction. The big power plant in the middle of nowhere was what we call a stranded investment. We tried to tell them that. We told them not to build it. Their guys prob'ly told them not to build it. "No." "We're a utility." "We build powerplants." "We are bless-ed by the Government." So they "invested" the shareholders' money and the ratepayers' money and the bondholders' money and the taxpayers' money on a big stranded Government-certified "investment". And they were gonna have to eat it, and go belly up.
LOUD CLICK of camera shutter; screen momentarily blacks.
KAREN (CONT.)
And you saved their ass.
END CREDITS. END MUSIC. DISTRIBUTED BY --
LOUD CLICK of camera shutter; digital clock in lower right has stopped.
FADE TO BLACK, TITLE
END.
©1994 RICHARD KATZ
Point Richmond, CA 94801
O/510-843-3764
H/510-236-1865
FAX/510-843-6280
Pager/510-425-2933
A trucking company owner and a bond analyst decommission a nuke plant. She does okay.
Go to the beginning of the Script to read the full text.
I-5 Synopsis
A CHIEF SECURITIES ANALYST (Black, female, New Yorker) out on the Coast to look over a nuke plant under construction looks up an old friend from college, a TRUCKER (white, male, from Oakland).
They go out on a trucking job and backhaul a load of binary munitions going to the toxic waste dump in Kettleman City
They haul the stuff to the nuke plant construction site at night and spill the persistently toxic chemical warfare agent all over the grounds of the plant.
Securities Analyst goes back to Wall Street and trades on the inside information that the nuke plant is going to be cancelled; she pockets many dollars while he flees to Grenada.
Note the flashback-envisioned carnage that results from the wreck of a truck hauling highlevel nuclear waste on Interstate 5 right through downtown L.A.
Set in 1981 in California.
Go to the beginning of the Script to peruse the full text.
NOTE: The author is probably the only person who did six years of biochemistry research and then went on to be the owner and operator of a trucking company. The author actually drove an eighteen wheeler truckload of barrels of chemical waste into Diablo Canyon. It was during a protest; the police were busy keeping an eye on the protestors.
SPEAKING PARTS (and # of speeches)
AD (=ASSISTANT DIRECTOR)
AMBULANCE ATTENDANT
ANCHORMAN
ANCHORWOMAN (4)
BARTON (208) .............................An Independent Trucker
BOB RICHARDS (4) .......................Murrill Security Employee
BRINKMANN(30)......................................CEO of Murrill
BROKER IN NEW YORK(6)
BROKER IN SAN FRANCISCO (2)
CABBIE.........................................New York Cabdriver
CASHIER (9)
CHAUFFEUR (2)
CHILD #1
CHILD #2
CINEMATOGRAPHER
COMMUTER
COMPANY DRIVER #1 - #4
CONCIERGE (2)
DAVIS (6) ..................................CEO of a Film Studio
DEPUTY (9)
DRIVER
EASTERN TICKET AGENT (6)
FATHER OF KID ON BICYCLE(2)
FRANK'S DRIVER (4)
GUARD (9)
HELICOPTER NEWSPERSON (3)
HELICOPTER PILOT
KAREN (142)....Murrill Senior Securities Analyst for Fixed Income
KID ON BICYCLE
Page 2.
LILLIAN (5)...... ...............Brinkmann's Executive Secretary
LIZ GORDON (3).............................Karen's Private Broker
MARKETMAKER EMPLOYEE (3)
MERCEDES DRIVER (8)...................A Female Still Photographer
MOM
MONGOOSE DESPATCHER-SECRETARY (4)
MONGOOSE DRIVER #1 - #3
MORRIS (7)..........Murrill Vice President of Internal Operations
MOTORCYCLE HIGHWAY PATROLMAN
MURRILL PR MAN (2)
NEWSCASTER ON CHANNEL 3 (3)
NUCLEAR TRUCKER (2)
OPERATIVE #1 - #3
PAN AM TICKET AGENT (8)
PATROLMAN #1-#2 (3)
PROTEGE (5)Steiner's Protege, Murrill Director of Bond Management
REPORTER #1 - #5
ROBERTA.............................................A Stockbroker
RON (57)............................Canonical Independent Trucker
SCRIPTPERSON
STEINER (16) .............Murrill Vice President for Fixed Income
STEINER'S PRIVATE BROKER (5)
SHUTTLE BUS DRIVER
SUPERMARKET CASHIER
TRUCKER
TRUCKSTOP WAITRESS (6)
VAN OCUR (15)...................................A Biotechnologist
WORKER IN HARDHAT #1
YENTA
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