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Grosse Pointe Blank Script
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Grosse Pointe Blank
                                     GROSSE POINTE BLANK
                         First Draft: Tom Jankiewicz Revised 
                         Draft: D.V. deVincentis & S.K. Boatman 
                         & John Cusack
                         NEW CRIME PRODUCTIONS
                         Registered WGA
                         --address deleted --for privacy --
                         phone deleted
                         MAY 4, 1994

               FADE IN:

               ROLL CREDITS OVER:

               EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAWN

               VARIOUS EXTRA CLOSE-UPS of this luxurious patchwork of 
               brilliant greens:

               A POLISHED BRASS SPRINKLER HEAD

               pops up from the ground and begins to water the already dew-
               soaked lawn.

               FLEET OF DUCKLINGS

               No mother in sight, cruise through the thrushes.

               GRAVEYARD OF GOLF BALLS, UNDERWATER

               At the bottom of a water hazard.

               PALM FRONDS

               After a neat they sway, revealing the barren desert that 
               surrounds the artificial oasis. The sun already bakes the 
               air. We hear the opening guitar strains of the Kim Deal-Kurt 
               Cobain suet of "WHAT I DID FOR LOVE," as we CRANE DOWN the 
               palms to

               A BRAND-NEW TITLEIST 3 BALL.

               Just on the edge of the rough. A pair of yellow trousers 
               moves in. An iron confidently addresses the ball, and chips 
               it out. The trousers walk out after it.

               HANDS

               Digging dirt out of the grooves of the iron's face with a 
               golf tee, while on the way to the green. Both hands are 
               gloved, instead of one, and the gloves are black.

               YELLOW TROUSERS

               In a squat over the ball, sizing up the curvy, fifty-foot 
               journey to the hole. The figure positions himself and the 
               putter above the ball, then pops the ball lightly. The ball 
               rolls and bobs with purpose toward the hole, dodging hazards 
               and finding lanes, until it finally falls off of the green 
               and into the hole.

               THE GLOVED HAND

               Sets the ball on the next tee. The figure moves to a leather 
               golf bag. The hands pull the wipe rag off of the top of the 
               bag and drop it on the ground, reach into the bag, drawing 
               out a compact SNIPER RIFLE, affixed with a long silencer. 
               The figure drops one knee down onto the rag, the other foot 
               firmly setting its spikes. We move the figure to see the 
               face of the sniper, concentrating down the scope in his half-
               squat. He is MARTIN BLANK.

               We SWING AROUND behind his head to look down the barrel with 
               him. Four-hundred yards away, on another part of the course, 
               another green is barely visible through groves of trees and 
               rough. Three miniscule, SILVER-HAIRED FIGURES come into view. 
               One of them, in a RED SWEATER sets up for first putt. He 
               could be an investment banker, or an arms trader.

               MARTIN'S ARM

               Flinches, and a low THUNK reports from the rifle. A second 
               later in the distance, the

               RED SWEATER'S HEAD

               Seems to vanish from his shoulders into a crimson mist. His 
               body crumples to the green.

               MARTIN

               Returns the rifle to the bag, pulls out a driver, moves to 
               the tee and whacks the ball. He watches its path and whispers 
               absently...

                                     MARTIN
                         Hooked it. 

               INT. CLUB HOUSE PATIO - LATER

               The outdoor post-golf luncheon area of an elite Texas golf 
               club. Martin sits in on the fringes of a conversation between 
               a group of executive types. CLUB MEMBER #1 has a Buddha-like 
               peace in his eyes through the philosophical talk.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         I'd come to the realization that 
                         everything I'd based my life on was 
                         false. And that my life had no 
                         meaning.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #2
                              (to Martin)
                         He gets this way when he hits over 
                         eighty-five.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         It seemed like my life was slipping 
                         away, somehow. I was a knot in the 
                         middle of a wet rope. Everything was 
                         futile and nothing had value.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #3
                         That's the way life is. The only 
                         meaning and value is what we create. 
                         Through structure, and discipline. 
                         Though they seem to limit our freedom, 
                         they actually give us great comfort. 
                         Your problem is you're looking for 
                         some great answer. Some ultimate 
                         truth. When what you really should 
                         do is go to work and go home.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #2
                         And take golf lessons.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         That's a tragedy. Can I finish my 
                         story please? I began my search for 
                         meaning. I was a Catholic, Jew, 
                         Scientologist, Sufi, Buddhist. I 
                         went to a Psychologist, psychiatrist, 
                         herbalist, nutritionist, a shaman, 
                         and a psychic. And they all pretty 
                         much say the same stuff.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #2
                         A Jew, a shaman, and a herbalist are 
                         telling you the same thing? You're 
                         insane.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         Basically the same thing. In a very 
                         evolved, esoteric way.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #2
                         Insane.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         To make a long story short...

                                     CLUB MEMBER #3
                         --Thank God--

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         ...at last I found the holistic system 
                         of systems that opened up the doors 
                         of heaven for me right here on earth. 
                         And everyday I see the world through 
                         the eyes of a child. A world of 
                         creation and wonder.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #2
                         Jesus...

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         Overflowing with love.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tell me about it.

               Club Member #1 turns to Martin.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         P.P.P. Personal Pan Power. All the 
                         secrets of your universe are divided 
                         up into eight easily digestible 
                         slices.

               Club Member #1 pulls a laminated card from his wallet and 
               hands it over to Martin. In the distance, sirens begin to 
               wail.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         See, see. It's in the accessible and 
                         everyday shape of a pan pizza. Each 
                         day you have a little slice of 
                         peace...

               INSERT - WALLET-SIZE P.P.P. CARD

               A pizza-shaped diagram showing six "sections".

                                     MARTIN
                         Oh I see. You got your individual 
                         slices of hope, dignity, confidence, 
                         self-love, justice, and harmony.

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         You open 'em up and there's the 
                         sayings, stories, little bites of 
                         insight. It's the P.P.P. Six Day 
                         Week.

                                     MARTIN
                         So you eat-- read it everyday?

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         Yes.

                                     MARTIN
                         And these pan pizzas have opened up 
                         the doors to heaven?

                                     CLUB MEMBER #1
                         Correct.
                              (re: the card)
                         That's for you. Keep it.

               Sirens are getting louder, closer to the club.

               EXT. COUNTRY CLUB - DAY

               The source of the sirens are almost upon us. Martin walks 
               toward his rented Town Car as the VALET pulls it up. He meets 
               the Valet by the trunk, where he trades tip for keys.

                                     MARTIN AT CAR
                         He fishes out the laminated "Personal 
                         Pan Power" card, looks at it, and 
                         tosses it onto the ground. Police 
                         cars, now visible in the distance, 
                         wind into the long club driveway. 
                         Martin gets into his car and pulls 
                         away.

               LAMINATED CARD

               As it lays on the asphalt. The wheel of a police car rolls 
               to a stop on it.

               INT. AIRLINER - DAY

               Martin sits in a first class seat, the tray table flipped 
               down. On the left side of the tray is a stack of magazines 
               of all kinds - Sports Illustrated, Mademoiselle, Wired, 
               Rolling Stone, National Review, Spin, National Geographic, 
               and on. He draws one off the top, and flips through it, 
               impassively taking in images and reading nothing. When he is 
               done with one, he discards it into the empty seat next to 
               him and draws another-- Martin's way of instantly and 
               massively uploading the world around him:

               Toothless hockey player in triumph, Sony product parade, 
               crouched starving child with vulture in the background, 
               supermodel in suede, Tic Tacs, living former Presidents, arm 
               in arm, smiling, etc.

               INT. HIRED CAR, NEW YORK - DAY

               The livery weaves out of the arrival lanes at Kennedy airport. 
               Martin reclines in the back seat, a conversation having 
               already begun.

                                     DRIVER
                         How was your day, today, sir?

                                     MARTIN
                         Effective. But to tell you the truth, 
                         I've lost my passion for work.

                                     DRIVER
                         Do you like the people you work with?

                                     MARTIN
                         I work alone.

                                     DRIVER
                         That's it then. That's it. I've always 
                         been alone. That's why I'm a good 
                         driver. I can handle it. See, I can 
                         think on my feet. I survive, I'm a 
                         thinker. And I can sit there in front 
                         of your house for two hours and it 
                         don't bother me. Some people can't 
                         do it! Some people are ranting and 
                         raving, "Tell them fuckin' people to 
                         get out here and get in this car, I 
                         can't-- I want a go!" Where you gonna 
                         go? You're gonna wind up back in 
                         your garage at seven o'clock at night. 
                         You ain't going nowhere. You leave 
                         your house in the morning you get 
                         back to your house in the evening. 
                         What's the big deal, right?

                                     MARTIN
                         You understand the psychology of the 
                         job.

                                     DRIVER
                         I do. Some guys can't adjust to it; 
                         they can't handle it.

               INT. CAR - MANHATTAN STREETS - LATER

               The car cuts through the upper east side. Martin and the 
               Driver exchange looks through the rear-view mirror.

                                     DRIVER
                         You look like you're far away. Far 
                         away and thinking about other things. 
                         I'm right about that, aren't I?

                                     MARTIN
                         No.

                                     DRIVER
                         Well, let's just say that sometimes 
                         I'm right. Sometimes you are.

                                     MARTIN
                         Sometimes I am. Sometimes. It's only 
                         natural.

                                     DRIVER
                              (laughs to himself at 
                              this great truth)
                         It's only natural....

               The Driver pauses for dramatic emphasis

                                     DRIVER
                         I been looking at you, and I've 
                         decided that I want to share something 
                         with you.

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay.

                                     DRIVER
                         Because your problem is you're bored. 
                         And you have a very big mind.
                              (beat)
                         I am part of what I call a brain 
                         syndicate.

               No reaction from Martin.

                                     DRIVER
                         I am part of a network of minds, a 
                         group of five people who are all 
                         connected, over hundreds, even 
                         thousands of miles, through the mind. 
                         We can think with each other, think 
                         for each other. I can be driving 
                         somewhere, sleeping with a woman-- 
                         whatever it is-- and at the same 
                         time be thinking a thought in someone 
                         else's mind, far away. Running someone 
                         else's brain.

                                     MARTIN
                              (indicates)
                         Up on the right.

                                     DRIVER
                         And when you think of it, it's not 
                         so surprising that a small group of 
                         people control the whole world, is 
                         it?

               INT. HOTEL ROOM, NEW YORK CITY - DAY

               A sedate and well-appointed four-star suite on the Upper 
               East Side. Martin stands in front of one of the open windows 
               watching the canopied entrance of an elegant high-rise across 
               the street. He lifts an eye rinse cup to his eye and tilts 
               it back. A cellular phone RINGS, interrupting him. He moves 
               to the desk and draws one of three phones from his briefcase, 
               depresses a scrambler module, flips it open, and listens for 
               a moment.

                                     MARTIN
                         If it's not there, I can't proceed. 
                         Tell them.

               Martin hangs up. Picks up another phone and dials. As he 
               waits for an answer, he goes to a Fed Ex blueprint tube lying 
               on the bed.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tom. I've been waiting for an answer. 
                         I'm only in town tonight.

               He breaks the shipping seal and pulls out a series of finished 
               metal parts including a long thin barrel, a scope, and a 
               silencer.

                                     MARTIN
                         What's different this time than the 
                         last time? I have to be down front...

               INT. HOTEL ROOM - SAME

               Martin stands in front of the window, phone in one hand, the 
               scope in the other. Next to him, the assembled rifle rests 
               across the arm of a chair.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...I don't bother to call anyone 
                         else because you always take care of 
                         me.

               He glances over to a second window to his left, which offers 
               a view further down the street. He goes to it. He raises the 
               scope and sees

               MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE- WINDOW #2

               A few blocks down, small even through the high-powered scope, 
               is your average BICYCLE MESSENGER dressed in lycra racing 
               gear, weaving through traffic toward us. Slung low across 
               his right hip is a black canvas bag. The Messenger's hand is 
               hidden in it. The other phone begins to RING.

                                     MARTIN
                         Hold on a second, Tom. I got my hands 
                         full here.

               He sets down the phone and answers the other, still watching 
               the messenger.

                                     MARTIN
                         Good. Account number 3649367, transfer 
                         to account number 96-546-38739-47825. 
                         Ask for Mr. Sanchez, tell him it's 
                         Mr. Duckman. If there are any 
                         problems, access file 673594638-IO-
                         98, and look at it.

               Martin drops the phone and moves away from Window #2 to the 
               rifle. He mounts the scope and he looks out Window #1 at the 
               high-rise.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE - WINDOW #1

               Of a DOORMAN opening the door for a group of five men in 
               suits. Four BODYGUARDS form a perimeter around the fifth 
               man, a mall, avuncular figure in his forties dressed in 
               Saville Row finery.

               MARTIN

               Takes a step back into the shadows of the room, and raises 
               the rifle toward Window #2.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE - WINDOW #2

               of an empty street. The bicycle messenger flashes past.

               MARTIN

               concentrating, tracks the path of the Messenger, leading him 
               left to right across the blind spot of the hotel room wall 
               between Window #2 and Window #1.

               STREET

               the bicycle Messenger bears down on the group of men, drawing 
               a Mac-10 submachine gun from his bag. The group see him-- 
               just as Martin's sniper FIRE explodes the Messenger's chest. 
               Two of the Bodyguards collapse onto their boss. The other 
               two open fire on the Messenger as he wipes out horribly into 
               a parked car in front of them.

               MARTIN

               withdraws from the window, and picks up the phone again and 
               begins to break down the rifle.

                                     MARTIN
                         Sorry Tom. But look, I know it's the 
                         playoffs. That's why I'm offering a 
                         thousand dollars for one seat...

               Martin listens patiently as he works.

               EXT. STREET - SAME - INTERCUT

               DOORMAN'S HANDS

               unbuttoning his double-breasted long coat.

               MARTIN

               just finishes packing.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...Well let me ask you, Tom. What do 
                         I have to do to get courtside tickets 
                         for the Knicks...?

               STREET

               The two bodyguards kick at the Messenger's body. The other 
               two begin to move off of their boss, who rises cowering. The 
               Doorman stands behind it all, unbuttoning his coat.

               DOORMAN

               a tall, dark, sharp-featured man in his forties, wearing a 
               handlebar moustache. He moves toward the group of men as he 
               flips open his coat back over two huge chrome .44 Magnum 
               Charthouse Bulldog revolvers and OPENS FIRE on them.

               MARTIN

               is closing his bag when he hears the gun-thunder.

                                     MARTIN
                         Never mind. I gotta go.

               Martin drops the phone, grabs his scope, and spins to the 
               window.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V./SCOPE

               of the Doorman kicking through the pile of dead bodyguards. 
               He gets to the man at the bottom-- their boss. The Doorman 
               FIRES both guns.

               MARTIN

               reacts, surprised to see a second shooter. He pulls himself 
               from the window, puts away his scope, and accelerates his 
               exit.

               HIGH-RISE FOYER

               Outside, we see the doorman drop both guns on the pile of 
               bodies. He walks back toward us through the glass doors and 
               makes his way through the building toward the service exit. 
               He sheds his uniform and stuffs it into a plastic bag.

               MARTIN

               his two parcels in hand, exits out the side door of the hotel 
               and walks down the street.

               DOORMAN

               now wearing rich man's sweats, hops off the loading dock, 
               walks to a Lincoln Town Car, and drives off.

               INT. MARTIN'S AND GROCERS CARS - DAY

               Martin rolls down FDR Drive in a Lincoln Town Car once again 
               on the cellular.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...Tell them that's not my problem. 
                         I was paid for one job-- the cyclist-- 
                         not two. See you tomorrow, Marcella.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Wait. I have Mr. Grocer for you.

                                     MARTIN
                         Patch him through....

               Martin notices another Town Car appears in the next lane. We 
               recognize the Doorman behind the wheel, phone in hand. He is 
               GROCER.

                                     MARTIN
                         What do you want?

                                     GROCER
                         I'm setting up a concern that would 
                         enable those of us in our rarefied 
                         profession to consolidate our efforts.

                                     MARTIN
                         Like a union?

                                     GROCER
                         Like a club. Work less, make more.

                                     MARTIN
                         Thank you, no.

                                     GROCER
                         We could be working together, making 
                         big money, killing important people... 
                         I'm willing to let you in on the 
                         ground floor.

                                     MARTIN
                         And you could be... sort of like... 
                         a father figure to me....

               Grocer ignores this.

                                     GROCER
                         It's a free-market evolution. You'll 
                         wake up to it... c'mon Kid. We used 
                         to run together when you were a 
                         rookie. I don't want to run against 
                         you. This thing's real. Everybody's 
                         in.

                                     MARTIN
                         Not me. So don't paw at me with your 
                         dirty little guild.

                                     GROCER
                         I'm gonna get you, kid.

               Martin hangs up and pulls away.

               INT. AIRLINER - DAY

               Martin sits in first class, wiping his face and hands with 
               an airline hot towel. He folds the wet cloth and once again 
               speeds through the images from a thick stack of magazines. 
               He looks up as he hears PILOT V.O.  It's seventy-six degrees 
               and partly cloudy in Chicago this afternoon...

               INT. APARTMENT, CHICAGO - NIGHT

               Martin walks into a sparsely furnished apartment. He wearily 
               drops his carry-on bag and briefcase in the hall.

               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER

               Martin sits on a futon couch watching MTV with no sound. On 
               the coffee table in front of him is a phalanx of vitamin 
               bottles. Martin takes some capsules from each and washes 
               them down with a reddish-orange beverage.

               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER

               Martin lies on his back on the hardwood floor. His eyes are 
               closed and he wears a set of headphones as he absently taps 
               his chest.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         "Dear Alumni: Can you believe it's 
                         been ten years? Where are you now...?

               After a moment, his eyes open, alerted. His head turns to 
               the side, and his hands lightly cup the headphones.

               CLOSE-UP: WIRE

               from the headphones as it winds to a small metal box, with 
               one unmarked switch and one amber light- definitely not a 
               walkman. The wire continues out of the other side of the 
               box, across the floor, connecting to a suction cup stuck to 
               the floor.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Are you guiding an Outward Bound 
                         canoe trip like Brook Stinson? Or 
                         perhaps in charge of appearances for 
                         the NFL like Leslie Gunther....?

               MARTIN - A MINUTE LATER

               draws a pre-cut section of the floor, the width of a pencil 
               and twice as long, by a string.

               VIDEO MONITOR - A MINUTE LATER

               The greenish Starlight (night vision) image of a young, HUSKY 
               MAN sleeping on his back, as seen from above. A fine thread 
               snakes from behind CAMERA to just above the man's slack mouth. 
               We PULL BACK to reveal a Sony Watchman that holds the IMAGE. 
               KEEP PULLING to reveal Martin watching it as he maneuvers 
               the thread down past the fiber-optic cable through the hole 
               in the floor.

               MARTIN - A MINUTE LATER

               concentrates as he applies three drops of blue liquid on the 
               thread. As the drops run down along the thread through the 
               floor, his attention shifts to the

               VIDEO MONITOR

               The drops, huge in the foreground, become smaller as they 
               make their way down the line toward the sleeping man.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Could it be that you're like Chip 
                         Longfellow, at the trade-relations 
                         tank in Washington. Sandy Glasser 
                         owns a cheese shop...!

               MARTIN

               adjusts the thread minutely with one hand, and lowers the 
               fiber-optic cable with the other.

               VIDEO MONITOR

               The face begins to fill the screen as the fiber-optic follows 
               the drops toward it. Suddenly, the man snorts and turns his 
               face...

               A DROP FALLS

               It misses the man's mouth and hit's his cheek.

               VIDEO MONITOR

               The man's eyes snap open in terror as he looks directly into 
               CAMERA. His image falls away as the fiber-optic is jerked 
               back up through the hole in the floor.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Looking at yearbooks and pictures 
                         evokes so many memories...!

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                              (hushed)
                         Fuck!

               MARTIN

               stuffs the apparati into an open duffel bag, and flies out 
               of frame.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Some good. Some bad. But all 
                         interesting...

               INT. HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER

               A BODYGUARD sits outside an apartment door. A muffled but 
               dire scream is heard from within and he is on his feet, gun 
               in hand. An exit door in the hallway slams open revealing 
               Martin, his gun already pointed at the Bodyguard. The 
               Bodyguard levels his at Martin.

                                     MARTIN
                         Freeze! Police!

               The Bodyguard hesitates just long enough to get double-tapped 
               through the head.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...As a graduate of the class of 
                         1984, you are someone special...

               Martin moves to the dead Bodyguard, and locates a retractable 
               key chain on his belt. He unreels the ring of keys and opens 
               the door. He lets the keys retract back to the belt and drags 
               him into the apartment.

               INT. HUSKY MAN'S APARTMENT - SECONDS LATER

               Martin moves silently down the hall in a crouch. He comes to 
               the bedroom and slips across the threshold.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Whenever news of you filters back, 
                         the school is excited and proud of 
                         your accomplishments...

               INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

               Martin crouches down outside the bedroom door. He points the 
               gun at the door, and reaching up turns the knob. As the door 
               opens, the Husky Man FIRES wildly over Martin's head. Martin 
               returns with one shot to the hut which sits the man down on 
               the floor.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...We hope Grosse Pointe High prepared 
                         you well to lead the kind of life 
                         that makes an impact on the world...

               Martin kicks the gun away from the fallen man, and raises 
               his barrel to the man's forehead.

                                     WOMAN (V.O.)
                         ...Remember, "there's no where you 
                         can go that you haven't learned how 
                         to go in time... It's easy..."

                                     HUSKY MAN
                              (in severe pain)
                         Whatever it is that I'm doing that 
                         you don't like I'll stop doing it.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's not me.

               Martin cocks the gun....

               EXT. EAST-WEST HOLDING COMPANY, LOS ANGELES - DAY

               The perpetual sun shines down on a small lot of pre-fab office 
               bungalows.

               INT. BLANK HOLDING COMPANY

               A small suite of dry-walled offices.

               EAST-WEST HOLDING COMPANY

               is stenciled on glass doors behind Martin who stands in front 
               of a young woman reading from some kind of invitation. She 
               is MARCELLA MAYES.

                                     MARCELLA
                         ...So come on back to the old oak 
                         tree, acorns. Signed, the reunion 
                         committee."

               Marcella holds up the mauve envelope and smiles slyly. For 
               the first time, Martin looks scared.

                                     MARTIN
                         Throw that away.

                                     MARCELLA
                         This?

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't tease me. You know what I do 
                         for a living.

                                     MARCELLA
                         It's from one of those P.O. Boxes. 
                         How was the trip?

                                     MARTIN
                         Tedious. I now authorize you to throw 
                         away all personal mail.

                                     MARCELLA
                         All of it?

                                     MARTIN
                         And not show it to me. Ever again.

                                     MARCELLA
                         That's going to cost.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'll pay.

               Martin begins to walk past her into his office, but Marcella 
               stops him.

                                     MARCELLA
                         They're not happy, sir.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm not happy.

                                     MARCELLA
                         They say their friend was suppose to 
                         have a heart attack and die in his 
                         sleep.

                                     MARTIN
                         He didn't.

                                     MARCELLA
                         They blame you for the compromise.

                                     MARTIN
                         And they want me to make up for it.

                                     MARCELLA
                         In Detroit. This weekend.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tell them that's impossible. I need 
                         my normal lead time.

                                     MARCELLA
                         They were very upset.

                                     MARTIN
                         Would you describe their position as 
                         inflexible?

                                     MARCELLA
                         Intractable, sir. You leave tonight.

               Marcella looks concerned.

                                     MARCELLA
                         And sir, I also get that broken-
                         mirror, black-cat, Friday-the-
                         thirteenth kind of feeling about 
                         this one....

                                     MARTIN
                         There's nothing to be done about it.

                                     MARCELLA
                         I liquidated the last account in 
                         Zurich, and split it into two new 
                         ones in Estonia.

                                     MARTIN
                         Good. What else? Anything interesting?

                                     MARCELLA
                         Mmm, not really. But you're gonna 
                         love this one.

               She hands him a piece of paper. He scans it.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Enough?

                                     MARTIN
                         Never enough.

                                     MARCELLA
                         But it's a Greenpeace boat. It'd be 
                         so easy.

               Martin looks at her wearily. He puts it into the paper 
               shredder at the side of her desk.

                                     MARTIN
                         I have scruples. Next.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Paperwork on the Detroit thing. It's 
                         a full dossier. Very comprehensive.

               She raises a thick brown dossier from the top of her desk 
               and puts it down again. Martin moves through a door to his 
               private office.

               MARTIN'S OFFICE

               Martin goes into his office and sits at his desk. On the 
               walls are a couple of boring prints of tallships. A bookshelf 
               holds trappings of a loose attempt at a cover-- a few shipping 
               manifests, sealane tables, and other specialized reference 
               books on import/export. He sits and stares.

               NEW ANGLE

               Time has passed, and Martin still sits at his desk massaging 
               his gums with a rubber-tipped dental pointer.

               C.U. MARTIN'S TEETH

               The dental tool jumps across the gaps between his teeth like 
               a hummingbird.

                                     MARCELLA
                              (off-screen)
                         You should get going....

               MARTIN

               pulls back his jacket lapel and fits the utensil into a pocket 
               protector that is also home to a toothbrush, emery board, 
               tweezers, and comb. He stands and walks out of his office.

               FOYER

               Martin moves toward the door. As he passes Marcella she hands 
               him the mauve envelope and a travel portfolio.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Don't forget your identity.

                                     MARTIN
                         See you next week.

               Martin stops short as he reaches the threshold. He holds up 
               the envelope, and stares a dagger through it. On his way 
               out, over his shoulder...

                                     MARTIN
                         Tell Dr. Oatman I'm on my way.

               INT. DR. OATMAN'S OFFICE - DAY

               Martin slouches on a leather couch. He holds the mauve 
               envelope, now open.

                                     DR. OATMAN (V.O.)
                         Why don't you want to go to your 
                         high school reunion?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's in Michigan. Honestly, what do 
                         I have in common with those people? 
                         Or with anyone?

               DR. OATMAN sits in the window. He is Kris Kringle-esque, and 
               wears a sheepskin vest, rough-hewn shirt, faded Levis, and 
               old Frye boots. Oatman nods with the suave understanding of 
               a man happy to collect fifty thousand in fees before asking 
               a tough question.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         You went to school with these people.

                                     MARTIN
                         Come on.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         We've spent a lot of time discussing 
                         those years. Remember we said that 
                         fear is a transfer of the bodily 
                         hurt associated by experience with 
                         the thing feared, to the thought of 
                         the thing. Thus we fear a dog without 
                         distinctly imagining its bite.

                                     MARTIN
                         Shouldn't you be taking notes?

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Tell me about your vision of the 
                         reunion.

               CLOSE-UP - MARTIN

                                                                    CUT TO:

               MARTIN'S P.O.V. - FROM ABOVE

               Of a crowded gymnasium. The alumni below stops what they are 
               doing and look up at Martin, DRAWING GUNS OF ALL SHAPES AND 
               SIZES AND OPEN FIRE ON MARTIN. THE UNITED FORCE INSTANTLY 
               DISINTEGRATES, AND ALL 400 PEOPLE TURN THEIR GUNS ON EACH 
               OTHER. A BLOODBATH ENSUES. ONE ALUMNI SHOOTS HER OWN HEAD 
               OFF, ANOTHER MOWS DOWN THE BAR, ETC.

                                                               CUT BACK TO:

               MARTIN AND OATMAN

                                     MARTIN
                         It'll be depressing.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         How do you know?

                                     MARTIN
                         I just know.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Say more.

                                     MARTIN
                         They'll have husbands and wives and 
                         children and houses and dogs.... 
                         made themselves a part of something. 
                         And they can talk about what they 
                         do. What am I going to say?
                              (sarcastic)
                         "I killed the President of Paraguay 
                         with a fork."

               Oatman twitches nervously, almost spilling his coffee.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         You needn't be so frank with me about 
                         your work.

                                     MARTIN
                         Why not. I trust you. You couldn't 
                         turn me in because of Doctor-Patient 
                         privilege... and I don't want to be 
                         "withholding"... and I know where 
                         you live.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         You know where I live?

                                     MARTIN
                         We're both professionals, Oatman.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         I think what you fear Martin is 
                         domesticity. It's the greatest fear 
                         that men have who belong to Western 
                         Culture. It's centuries old. Like 
                         King Phillip, in the 11th or 12th 
                         century who decided one day that he 
                         was so bored with his dreary life at 
                         home with his wife he thought, "Well, 
                         wouldn't it be great if we hit the 
                         road and fought... oh... the 
                         Saracens."  So he put the word out 
                         and was amazed when a million men 
                         signed up and all of them wanted to 
                         go and fight in distant lands and do 
                         terrible things to people rather 
                         than stay at home with their families.

                                     MARTIN
                         So you're saying that Ulysses--
                         everything he said to his queen when 
                         he came back--everything was a lie? 
                         He just wanted to fuck around?

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Yes.

                                     MARTIN
                         Mmm.

               Beat.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         And how have you been feeling about 
                         your... work lately?

                                     MARTIN
                         Uneasy. Dispassionate. Bored. It's 
                         just getting hard to go to work in a 
                         good mood. I'm starting to think 
                         I've been in the business too long. 
                         Last week I did a guy younger than 
                         me.

               INT. CHURCH -

               SERIES OF QUICK SHOTS:

               MARTIN

               From the back of the darkened empty church, we see him mount 
               the altar.  A priest in fact.

               MARTIN'S HANDS

               open the gilded doors to reveal the chalice. He removes it, 
               squirts a clear liquid into the cup, and swishes it out. He 
               returns the chalice to the cabinet.

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                         The church seems to be purging itself 
                         of it's pedophile.

               MARTIN

               Sits in the back pew of the church, now crowded for Mann. He 
               watches the PRIEST lift the chalice into the air, murmur a 
               prayer, and drink from it. The Priest collapses behind the 
               altar.

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                         It's a bull market.

               C.U. OF ALTAR CARPET

               The chalice bounces free from the Priest's hand as it hits 
               the ground.

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                         Anyway, that never use to happen. I 
                         was always the prodigy. Now I'm just 
                         one of the guys.

                                     DR. OATMAN (V.O.)
                         Maybe some of the discomfort you're 
                         feeling is... guilt. Remorse. Over 
                         the innocent people you've killed.

               INT. OATMAN'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

                                     MARTIN
                         If I show up at your door, chances 
                         are you did something to bring me 
                         there. I don't care about that stuff, 
                         anyway.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         What stuff?

                                     MARTIN
                              (dismissive)
                         Morality.

               Oatman's glad the session's just about over.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Go to your reunion, Martin. See those 
                         people and discover what they mean 
                         to you. Try not to kill anybody for 
                         a few days, see how you feel.

                                     MARTIN
                         If I get antsy I'll kill a few small 
                         animals.

                                     OATMAN
                         Now we're making progress.

               INT. CONDO - NIGHT

               Very dark. No pictures or plants. Almost no furniture, and 
               what he does have is black. The only sign of life is a CAT. 
               The cat watches on as Martin sorts through a cardboard box, 
               finally coming to a photo album.

                                     CAT
                         Meow.

                                     MARTIN
                         Just a minute.

               INSERT-ALBUM

               A teen-aged Martin Blank: shy boy with a nervous smile. He 
               poses with his mother, an older woman with a kind smile... 
               but her eyes are dark; aged by a life of work and worry. On 
               the opposing page is a gilt funeral announcement that reads: 
               "IN LOVING MEMORY... VISTOR ALLEN BLANK...."

               MARTIN

               turns the page.

               INSERT-PHOTO ALBUM

               A photograph of a tall, thin girl: a bright smile from within 
               a bulky winter coat. A girl he's always wondered about: DEBI 
               NEWBERRY. Handwritten on the photo in girlish loops: "Would 
               you rather...?!"

                                     CAT
                         Meow!

               INT. KITCHEN - SAME

               Martin pulls himself away from the album and the cat follows 
               him, moaning hungrily--

                                     MARTIN
                         Food soon...

               Martin opens a restaurant-style refrigerator. It holds various 
               bottles of vitamins, spirulina, wheatgrass, digestible 
               hydrogen peroxide, fluoride treatment, oxygenated mouth rinse, 
               and thirty cans of CATFOOD.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tuna or liver?

                                     CAT
                         Meow.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tuna it is.

               He opens a can for the cat and a bottle for himself. While 
               the cat eats, he returns to the cardboard box. Finds a 
               YEARBOOK. Flips it open....

               INSERT-YEARBOOK

               A picture of a senior class "Blues Brothers" party: a group 
               of teens mug to the camera in Blues Brothers get-ups. 
               Sprinters race for a finish line, their chests stretching 
               for the tape.

               DEBI NEWBERY'S SENIOR PICTURE

               A more mature version of the girl in the album. Her name 
               appears under his picture...

               INT. GROCER'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

               Track light fills the gourmet-rustic kitchen. GROCER stands, 
               wearing a burgundy Fila sweat suit, pushing beets into a 
               vegetable juicer. Next to the juicer are piles of celery and 
               carrots, as well. A low-key BLIP is heard from another room. 
               Grocer tops off the glass and takes it out of the kitchen.

               INT. GROCER'S GREAT ROOM - CONTINUOUS

               Grocer enters the main room of the villa-style A-frame. He 
               moves to an antique oak desk and sits in front of a COMPUTER.

               ON-SCREEN GRAPHICS

                           "Click OK for remote access caller"

               OK is clicked.

                       "Availability for two days in Detroit area"

                                         "Terms"

                                        "$560,000"

                                          "When"

                                          "Now"

                                   "OK/ FAX materials"

               Grocer leans back in his chair and sips the juice. After a 
               moment, the FAX machine on the desk rattles. The computer 
               beeps.

                 "confirmation number of wire transfer#: AJ6687-OI99471"

               Grocer hits the return button after taking in the number. A 
               graphic appears:

                         "Connection is terminated/ Status idle"

               Grocer's FAX begins to moan and chatter. Grocer raises his 
               juice glass to the computer in a lazy toast.

               INT. PLANE - NIGHT

               Martin reclines in first class, soaring toward the Midwest 
               on the red-eye. He has already scanned his magazines and 
               they are piled in the empty seat next to him. He sets aside 
               a Powerbar. Martin reads Kill Without Joy. After a moment, 
               he sets the book down and takes up Iron John.

               INT. DETROIT AIRPORT TERMINAL - EARLY MORNING

               At the edge of the airport bar sits LARDNER and MCCULLERS, 
               two Government Spooks, agency unknown. They are both in 
               blazers, no ties, early thirties, and they watch the passing 
               crowd.

                                     LARDNER
                         You always say that. You always say 
                         that. I'm telling you, you never met 
                         the man.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         Seventeen months ago I was posting a 
                         walk in Lisbon, and he was there. He 
                         never saw me. But I saw him, though.

                                     LARDNER
                         Lisbon?

                                     MCCULLERS
                         In Portugal, yes.

               In the background, Martin passes by them as he walks down 
               the hall. Without directly regarding him, the two stand, 
               drop some cash on the bar, and begin to leave.

                                     LARDNER
                         Here's the news: He hasn't been in 
                         Portugal since '90. I know that from 
                         the file. Why don't you read the 
                         file, man?

                                     MCCULLERS
                         In fact, I think I talked with him, 
                         in Bonn.

               Lardner can neither confirm nor deny this.

                                     LARDNER
                         You always say that. You always have 
                         to know everybody. Why don't I just 
                         take the weekend off and let you 
                         kill him. Since you two are so close.

               They exit.

               EXT. EXIT RAMP, DETROIT AIRPORT - MORNING

               INSIDE MARTIN'S CAR

               Martin, in a black Lincoln Town Car, veers off of the airport 
               artery and on to a turnpike. The radio broadcasts the news.

                                     BROADCAST (V.O.)
                         ...with highs today in the upper 
                         seventies. Related stocks on Wall 
                         Street today as scandal continues to 
                         rock the joint U.S.-Japanese Tech 
                         Center...

               MARTIN'S CAR

               blows past CAMERA and on down the road. After a beat, a mid-
               eighties Ford Country Squire station wagon follows, occupied 
               by two figures.

               INSIDE THE COUNTRY SQUIRE

               are Lardner and McCullers. They listen to the same broadcast.

                                     BROADCAST (V.O.)
                         ...An unknown "whistle-blower" has 
                         leaked a number of critical flaws in 
                         the safety designs of next year's 
                         models to authorities that could 
                         cost millions in recalls....

               MARTIN

               flips through the dial, pausing on Rush Limbaugh who waxes 
               fascistically.

                                     MARTIN
                         Mein hero.

               ...and then turns the dial again and cuts in on "Armageddon 
               Time," slow reggae vibe by The Clash.

               EXT. HIGHWAY-

               Martin drives down the roadway... headlong into his past. 
               Dig it...

               INT. MARTIN'S CAR

               Martin turns up the volume as he reacts to a familiar 
               voice....

                                     FEMALE DEEJAY (V.O.)
                              (on radio)
                         --this is WFRN, all vinyl, all the 
                         time. Oldies from the eighties. It's 
                         a cold summer day in Grosse Pointe--

                                                                    CUT TO:

               CLOSE-UP - A FULL, FEMALE MOUTH

               lit only by dime slivers of sunlight, in front of a 
               microphone. Stray, gossamer strands of hair hanging in her 
               face move in front of her mouth as she speaks....

                                     FEMALE DEEJAY
                         --and I'm ready for some good tunes 
                         and angry talk. Or angry tunes and 
                         good talk--

                                                                    CUT TO:

               MARTIN

               looking somewhere far away, beyond what is before him in the 
               windshield...

                                     FEMALE DEEJAY (V.O.)
                         --Or maybe we'll just play the Cocteau 
                         Twins and get over the goo-angry-
                         talking music. As you know--

                                                                    CUT TO:

               THE DEEJAY'S HANDS

               as they distractedly toy with the wire at the base of the 
               mic.

                                     FEMALE DEEJAY (V.O.)
                         --for some moments in life there are 
                         no words, and a little nonsense now 
                         and then is relished by the wisest 
                         man--

                                                                    CUT TO:

               MARTIN

               still rapt, makes a sharp turn into a shopping district.

                                                                    CUT TO:

               HER MOUTH

                                     FEMALE DEEJAY
                         --The Cocteau Twins, though also a 
                         band of the nineties, will be aired 
                         due to the fact that they created 
                         their own language to sing by--

                                                                    CUT TO:

               MARTIN

               slows on a quaint street of cute shops. He creeps up to a 
               storefront on hid right and stops, staring through the 
               passenger window....

                                                                    CUT TO:

               DEBI NEWBERRY

               the female deejay. She sits slumped in a well-worn executive 
               chair, her back to the studio console and the picture window 
               behind it that opens to the street....

                                     DEBI
                         --Now that's freedom--

               she swivels in the chair to face the street....

               DEBI'S P.O.V.

               of Martin's Town Car outside, Martin silhouetted in shadow.

               DEBI

               Her brow furrowed as she peers at the car, something summoned 
               by the dark figure. Her words falter almost imperceptibly.

                                     DEBI
                         --The best I can do is a rhyme: Where 
                         are all the good men dead? In the 
                         heart or in the head? Back later....

               MARTIN

               Shaken from his trance by her stare, pulls back into the 
               street and disappears....

               INT. MARTIN'S CAR - MORNING

               Martin drives, listening to the radio. He turns the corner 
               with an expectant look on his face. Suddenly his face drops 
               as he slows and pulls over....

               MARTIN'S P.O.V. - 7-11 STORE

               Martin looks left of the store, then right, behind him, then 
               back at the store. Bewildered, he gets out of the car.

               WIDE SHOT

               of Martin as he walks with purpose. He halts in the middle 
               of the lot. He puts his hands on his hips, stares, then moves 
               in... We stay wide as he enters the store and addresses the 
               clerk inside.

                                     MARTIN
                         What are you doing here?

               CARL, the store clerk tries to get a grip on this question.

                                     CARL
                         A double shift. What's it look like?
                              (softening)
                         Can I help you with something?

               Martin's head pans the room, processing.

                                     MARTIN
                         I don't think so.

               EXT. 7-11 PAYPHONE - MORNING

               Martin continues to gaze at the structure as if it's a lunar 
               landscape.

                                     MARTIN
                              (into phone)
                         Dr. Oatman. Dr. Oatman. Please pick 
                         up if you're there... It's Martin 
                         Blank. It's gone. My house. It's not 
                         here. My house is gone and now there's 
                         a 7-11 here... And that's 
                         unfortunate... You can never go home 
                         again, Dr. Oatman.

               Martin hangs up. He watches one-stop shoppers come and go.

                                     MARTIN
                              (to himself)
                         But I guess you can shop there.

               INT. NURSING HOME - DAY

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               of a NURSE leading him down a drab, antiseptic hallway. She 
               banks into the sunlit room where a wispy woman in her late 
               fifties sits expectantly on the edge of the bed clutching 
               her purse in one hand, a filterless Pall-Mall in the other, 
               a light coat on. This is MARY BLANK. She suffers from 
               Alzheimer's or something just as debilitating.

                                     NURSE
                         Mary, your son's here.

               The nurse gently eases Mary up. Martin hugs Mary stiffly and 
               pats her shoulders. Mary takes hold of Martin's arm. They 
               start out of the room.

               EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - DAY

               They walk past a school-yard park fitted with a set of swings, 
               baseball diamonds, and a small grove of trees. She smokes 
               and hacks.

                                     MARY
                         I bought a new rug.

                                     MARTIN
                         That's wonderful, Mom.

                                     MARY
                         What's a revival tent?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's a place where religious people--

                                     MARY
                              (knowingly)
                         Marlin Perkins and Jim!

                                     MARTIN
                         Jim?

                                     MARY
                         His assistant. He acted like Marlin's 
                         son, only he wasn't. At least they 
                         never said he was... I bet they were 
                         lovers, faggots. Yes, gay lovers. 
                         Wild Kingdom my ass!

               Mary coughs horribly.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's good to see you. I'm sure you're 
                         curious about what I've been doing.

                                     MARY
                         I spoke to your father the other 
                         day.

                                     MARTIN
                         I imagine that'd be rather difficult.

                                     MARY
                         Nature made him then broke the mold.

               Martin decides to change the subject.

                                     MARTIN
                         They told me you're taking lithium, 
                         mom.

                                     MARY
                         Yes, they give me headaches. I have 
                         a headache.

                                     MARTIN
                         You have a headache?

                                     MARY
                         I have a headache. You have a 
                         headache?

                                     MARTIN
                         No, I don't have one.

                                     MARY
                         You don't have a headache. I have a 
                         headache.

               Mary leans in close, smiling.

                                     MARY
                         We had a good laugh, didn't we?

                                     MARTIN
                         Yeah. I guess we did.

               EXT. NURSING HOME - DAY

               As they head toward Martin's car, Mary stops and points to 
               it.

                                     MARY
                         Why don't you return this car and 
                         borrow mine? Have Debi follow you to 
                         the rent-a-car so you can get a ride 
                         back.

                                     MARTIN
                         I think I'll go see Debi today.

                                     MARY
                         Of course you will.

                                     MARTIN
                         I can't think of anything to say to 
                         her that seems appropriate given I 
                         left and never said goodbye to her.

                                     MARY
                         Take care of her. She's a keeper.

                                     MARTIN
                         Yeah...

                                     MARY
                         And a leader. Didn't she meet Castro 
                         on foreign exchange?

                                     MARTIN
                         I have always thought about her and 
                         missed her.

               A nurse approaches with a wheelchair.

                                     MARY
                         Separate the wheat from the chaff 
                         and you've got the candle cat.

               Together, Martin and the nurse help Mary into it. Mary gazes 
               at Martin, taking him in.

                                     MARY
                         Remember no matter how impossible 
                         your problems feel. I've known people 
                         without a chance in the world. And 
                         all of a sudden, they have lives.  
                         Time allows miracles. Let yourself 
                         breathe, son.

               Martin bends down and kisses her on the cheek. The nurse 
               spins the chair around and heads toward the building. He is 
               somewhat fatigued from the experience, but he tries once 
               more to connect.

                                     MARTIN
                         Mom...

               The nurse stops and turns Mary around to face him. Mary looks 
               up at Martin and brightens. She starts to sing out like Ethel 
               Merman, arms out Broadway style.

                                     MARY
                         "What's up doc/ what's cookin'?/ 
                         What's up doc?/ Are ya lookin'?/ 
                         Hey! Look out!  You're gonna hurt 
                         someone,/ with that old shotgun,/ 
                         Hey... what's... up... Doooooc...!/ 
                         We really mean it!"

               Mary stops short, and squints at Martin.

                                     MARY
                         Hey, you're a handsome devil. What's 
                         your name?

               EXT. GRAVEYARD ROAD - DAY

               Martin stops the car and looks out the window at the sea of 
               headstones. He jerks his hand in a stiff wave...

                                     MARTIN
                         Hey Pop... You got off easy. The 
                         house is a 7-11. Mom's a psycho-
                         pharmacological punching bag and I 
                         murder for cash. If you were here I 
                         think you'd be proud.

               He drives off.

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - DAY

               The room features a big square bed, dresser and television. 
               Martin enters, kicks a leather bag under the bed, and grabs 
               the steel-sided briefcase.

                                     MARTIN
                         pries out a wall vent, slides in the 
                         case and replaces the vent.

               EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY

               Lardner and McCullers are staked out along the main strip of 
               town. Lardner snores, face pressed up against the passenger 
               window. McCullers lays back in his seat, a to-go cup in his 
               lap. He taps the cup with one finger as he absently sings 
               his favorite Bob Seeger song to himself...

                                     MCCULLERS
                         "...Against the wind... just a young 
                         man running... Against the wind... 
                         let the cowboy's ride!... Blame on 
                         it the thuuunder! Night moves..."

               McCullers catches of Martin's Town Car coming down the street. 
               He nudges Lardner, and points.

               LARDNER AND MCCULLERS P.O.V.

               of Martin pulling into a space on the street outside the 
               radio station. He gets out, looking nervous.

               INT. RADIO STATION - DAY

               Debi flips on the "ON-AIR" switch and prepares to speak into 
               the microphone. Martin walks in. Debi sees him. They stare 
               at each other. The song ends. Dead air. After a moment...

                                     DEBI
                              (on air, groping)
                         WRFN playing all vinyl, all the time. 
                         Oldies from the eighties. That was 
                         ah... the Specials. Doing... one of 
                         their songs...

               Debi turns to turntable B and finds it empty. She turns back 
               to turntable A and lets the record roll on.

                                     DEBI
                         ...and here's another.

               Debi swivels around to face Martin.

                                     MARTIN
                         "Oldies from the eighties?"

               After a long pause....

                                     DEBI
                         I just play my own collection.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's nice to see you again.

               Debi says nothing, just stares at him, in shock.

                                     MARTIN
                         How long has it been?

                                     DEBI
                         Since you stood me up on prom night 
                         and vanished without saying a word?

                                     MARTIN
                         Ten years, I think. What I miss?

               Debi slowly grooves into irony, her best defense.

                                     DEBI
                         Well, let me see... they tore down 
                         the George Orwell monument and put 
                         up a bust of George Michael. Main 
                         Street's a four-laner, no left turns 
                         four to seven. I was married and 
                         divorced. And Grosse Pointe is now 
                         officially the new sister city to 
                         Lower Hutt, New Zealand. We have 
                         fiber-optic town meetings every two 
                         months.

                                     MARTIN
                         Here is now there. There is here.

               Their eyes lock on each other...

                                     DEBI
                         Those are the headlines.

               The request line buzzes.

                                     DEBI
                         Hold that thought.
                              (into phone)
                         WRFN FM, Grosse Pointe. All vinyl, 
                         all the...
                              (pauses)
                         No Pearl Jam. Call back in ten years.

               Beat. Debi makes the move.

                                     DEBI
                         Tell me about yourself.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm in California most of the time. 
                         Traveling a lot on business. That's 
                         about it, really.

                                     DEBI
                         That's it?

                                     MARTIN
                         Not much else.

                                     DEBI
                         What's your business?

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm a professional killer.

                                     DEBI
                         Professional killer. Do you get dental 
                         with that?

               Beat.

                                     MARTIN
                         Well, I'm in town for a few days, 
                         anyway.

               They run out of words, the moment too big for small talk. 
               Martin gets the fear, breaks it off.

                                     MARTIN
                         Well, I gotta go. But I'll come back.

                                     DEBI
                         Okay.

               Martin leaves Debi sitting alone, in disbelief.

               EXT. RADIO STATION - DAY

               Martin steps out of the storefront station along the 
               fashionable Grosse Pointe shopping district. He stops in the 
               middle of the street with a strained look on his face.

               INT. LARDNER & MCCULLERS' COUNTRY SQUIRE - SAME

               LARDNER & MCCULLERS' P.O.V.

               of Martin standing in the street.

               LARDNER AND MCCULLERS

               They frown, wondering at Martin's next move.

               INT. DEEJAY BOOTH -

               Debi lost in thought, still. After a moment, she sits upright 
               and flips the "ON-AIR" switch.

                                     DEBI
                              (into mike)
                         A man comes to you. He is from the 
                         past bringing you pain long since 
                         put behind you. He says peculiar 
                         things and leaves abruptly. It all 
                         comes flooding back...

               EXT. STREET -

               Martin stops in his tracks. His face softens, then becomes 
               determined. He turns and walks back toward the station.

               INT. DEEJAY BOOTH -

               Debi broadcasting...

                                     DEBI
                         It felt like an apparition, or some 
                         cheap, gruesome Rod Serling time 
                         warp I'd been thrust back into without 
                         warning. There's a strangeness in 
                         the air and I don't mind telling 
                         you, I'm a little spooked. He was a 
                         man from my past. A man I loved. A 
                         man who disappeared.

               DEBI'S P.O.V.

               of Martin walking back into the station.

                                     DEBI
                         A man who's walking back into the 
                         station.

               Martin comes into the booth. The temperature rises as they 
               square off.

               INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE -

                                     LARDNER
                         Well?

                                     MCCULLERS
                         I don't think so.

                                     LARDNER
                         Well, remember when Frysal's men 
                         paid off the Deejay in Cairo to 
                         announce a bogus press conference in 
                         the --

                                     MCCULLERS
                         --Nooo--

                                     LARDNER
                         --Yes. And the Munich Olympics in 
                         '72. A local radio station started 
                         broadcasting news of the massacre 
                         two minutes before it happened.

               McCullers is not to be outdone.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         That's strictly Bāader-Meinhof stuff.

                                     LARDNER
                         It was the PLO.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         Whatever.

               INT. DEEJAY BOOTH

               Martin and Debi locked in a passionate embrace. They break 
               away.

                                     DEBI
                         Sit.

               Martin obeys. Debi clandestinely flips the "ON-AIR" switch 
               as she drops into her chair. The "ON-AIR" light bar goes on 
               above and behind Martin. Unbeknownst to him their conversation 
               is put out over the airwaves.

                                     DEBI
                         All right mystery man. I want some 
                         answers. Let's recap. Spring of '84. 
                         Two young lovers with frightening 
                         natural chemistry. The girl sits in 
                         a seven-hundred dollar prom dress at 
                         her father's house waiting for the 
                         most romantic night of her young 
                         life. The boy never shows up, until 
                         now. So, what's the question?

                                     MARTIN
                         Where have I been?

                                     DEBI
                         More like what happened? What 
                         happened, Mr. Blank?

                                     MARTIN
                         I don't know exactly. I could venture 
                         a guess but it would sound like a 
                         rationalization... I thought you 
                         know... maybe seeing you, some 
                         friends, my house... of course now a 
                         7-11--

                                     DEBI
                         --Torn down in the name of convenience--

                                     MARTIN
                         --and I guess, sure, seeing you would 
                         be part of that whole equation... I 
                         suppose the most important thing, 
                         really. I don't know. Anyway, this 
                         whole thing's my therapist's idea. 
                         It's my shrink, really.

                                     DEBI
                         Ohhh. You're in therapy too, Marty?

                                     MARTIN
                         You see someone?

                                     DEBI
                         Uh, no. So you're back now, a decade 
                         later, and you want to sort things 
                         out with me. The question now is, do 
                         I allow you... access... to my being?

               Martin says nothing.

                                     DEBI
                         All right then. Would you like to 
                         share any more deeply personal 
                         thoughts with our listening audience 
                         before we go to our phone poll and 
                         see how the folks in radioland come 
                         down on this one?

               A beat as Martin realizes he's been had. He seems about to 
               bolt.

                                     DEBI
                         Should a broken-hearted girl give a 
                         guy a second chance at love....

               Debi jabs a phone line on the console.

                                     DEBI
                              (HARD)
                         You're on the air.

               Martin deflates.

                                     OLD WOMAN'S VOICE
                         I think this young man has avoided 
                         the question completely. Has not 
                         discussed "what happened" nor if 
                         he's sorry for what he has done. 
                         Therefore, I don't see any reason 
                         why you should see him until he fully 
                         discloses his intentions and feelings.

                                     DEBI
                         Thank you caller.

               Stabs another line.

                                     DEBI
                         You're on the air.

                                     DUMB GUY VOICE
                         Are you there?

                                     DEBI
                         Yes.

                                     DUMB GUY VOICE
                         No, the guy.

               Martin looks up, humiliated.

                                     MARTIN
                         Yeah....

                                     DUMB GUY VOICE
                         Uh... when you guys use to go out... 
                         Did you guys ever... heh heh heh 
                         heh... ever fuckin', ever totally 
                         fuckin' heh heh heh-

                                     DEBI
                         Next caller.

                                     GUFF MAN VOICE
                         I don't know, Debi. Sounds like bad 
                         gas to me. I would not allow him 
                         access to your being.

                                     DEBI
                         Thank you.

                                     DEBI
                         Grosse Pointe Michigan, I hear you 
                         loud and clear: "If you love something 
                         set it free. If it comes back to you 
                         it's, well...

               She turns to him and shrugs apologetically.

                                     DEBI
                         ...Broken...."

               Martin has his answer.

               EXT. RADIO STATION - DAY

               Martin leaves the station, alone and beaten down.

                                     MARTIN
                         Dammit. Never trust my instincts.

               He scans the main strip.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               A MAN walks down the street. He is FELIX, a bookish, 
               forgettable man in his forties, wearing Le Coq Sportif sweats 
               and shoes. He looks as if he has a dark cloud over his head. 
               Martin's seen him somewhere, and doesn't like what he 
               remembers. Martin's POV TRACKS him.

               FELIX'S P.O.V.

               As he walks down the street, he spots the Country Squire, 
               and eyes Lardner and McCullers in the front seat.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               follows Felix's eyes to Lardner and McCullers and catches 
               their look. Their eyes lock, neither wanting to betray that 
               they've made each other. They all do a pretty good job. His 
               P.O.V. swings to a square-jawed, hale fellow wearing dark 
               sunglasses who is approaching directly and only a few feet 
               away. The man is going for something in his breast pocket...

               Reaches into his own jacket, most likely for a gun....

               THE MAN

               pulls out a glasses case, and takes off his shades-- He is 
               PAUL SWIDERSKI.

               MARTIN AND PAUL

               Martin relaxes.

                                     PAUL
                              (grinning ear-to-ear)
                         Hell, I would've voted for you, but 
                         there's all this apple sauce stuck 
                         in my phone... I don't wanna talk 
                         about it. How the hell are you?!
                              (extends his hand)
                         Here's five good ones!

               No trace of recognition on Martin's face.

                                     PAUL
                         Marty! It's me. Paul.

                                     MARTIN
                              (realizing)
                         Paul?

                                     PAUL
                              (re: hand)
                         You're leaving me hanging here...

               They shake. Martin looks him up and down, astonished at the 
               respectable veneer of his old burn-out friend.

                                     PAUL
                         Hey. Give me a break.

               INT. PAUL'S BMW - DAY

               Martin and Paul rive through Grosse Pointe, Michigan: Wide 
               streets lined with huge, shady oaks. Castle-like homes on 
               golf-course green lawns. A comfortable, Midwestern Beverly 
               Hills. They are cruising their old haunts, Paul smoking a 
               joint.

                                     PAUL
                         This won't take but a minute. I just 
                         gotta hold their hands for a final 
                         walk-through. I'll take them in, get 
                         'em out, then you and I can grab a 
                         little quality time.

               Martin looks out the window, breathing in the past.

                                     PAUL
                         Goddamn, It's good to see you. I was 
                         afraid you joined a cult or something. 
                         I half-expected you to come back to 
                         town in a fennel wreath and paper 
                         pants.

               Paul offers Martin the joint. He declines.

                                     MARTIN
                         There was no money in it.

               Martin regards Paul archly.

                                     MARTIN
                              (grinning)
                         So what happened to you?

                                     PAUL
                         Same thing that happened to you-- I 
                         stopped poutin' there on the 
                         sidelines. Got in. Got on the team.  
                         I joined the working week, you slick 
                         fucking asshole, so why don't you 
                         valet park your high horse and take 
                         it easy on your old buddy, Paul.

                                     MARTIN
                         Fair enough.

               Beat.

                                     PAUL
                         God it's great to see you.

                                     MARTIN
                         You too.

               EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE - DAY

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               of a lovely YOUNG COUPLE on the front porch of a mid-sized 
               Wright home... Perhaps that could be him if things were 
               different, but for now it feels like along shot. Paul is 
               hawking the house to them out of earshot.

                                     SOUTHTEC GUARD (V.O.)
                         Well, we do what we have to do if we 
                         find you on the property. But we 
                         don't really enforce the law, we 
                         execute company policy for homeowners.

               MARTIN AND THE GUARD

               standing in the driveway.

                                     MARTIN
                         So when are you authorized to use 
                         deadly force?

                                     SOUTHTEC GUARD
                         Well, a 'course, taxes provide your 
                         basic service-- police and whatnot. 
                         But our customers need a little more 
                         than just that, you understand? This 
                         badge doesn't mean that I am a peace 
                         officer.

               The woman turns at Martin and smiles. Martin smiles back.

                                     MARTIN
                         So it's not a meaningful symbol, or 
                         anything. That badge is just the 
                         badge of your company. If I look 
                         suspicious on your customers' property--
                         well, under those heightened 
                         circumstances you have the authority 
                         to, ah... To shoot me.

                                     SOUTHTEC GUARD
                         To shoot you. Correct.

                                     MARTIN
                         How did you get this job?

                                     SOUTHTEC GUARD
                         Well, they were hiring, and it was 
                         only a two week course...

                                     MARTIN
                              (pleasantly)
                         Wow.

               Paul walks the happy couple down the steps.

                                     PAUL
                              (to couple)
                         ...What more can I say.

                                     HUSBAND
                              (smiling)
                         We'll talk soon.

                                     PAUL
                              (much hand gesturing)
                         You'll be raising your new family in 
                         a work of art. A work of art in a 
                         work of art.

               Paul looks at Martin and the Guard, inviting them into the 
               sell.

                                     SOUTHTEC GUARD
                         I'm sure you'll be very happy.

               All look to Martin....

                                     MARTIN
                              (heartfelt)
                         When my time comes, if it ever does, 
                         I want a beautiful, normal place 
                         like this... and a wife like you...

               All are confused. Martin thumbs to the guard.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...and you'll be safe here...

               Paul looks at his shoes and rolls his shoulders.

               EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE

               Lardner and McCullers sit in the wagon, watching the house 
               in the distance.

               INT. PAUL'S BMW - LATER

               Martin and Paul cut through a particularly charming 
               neighborhood.

                                     PAUL
                         Now. I don't make a habit of pimping 
                         my friends, but there is one prime 
                         little piece of land that you must 
                         see...

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               A sprawling gingerbread mansion rises into view. A long and 
               winding driveway cuts through thickly wooded property to the 
               house.

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                         Debi's house.

                                     PAUL (V.O.)
                         Kind of crept up on you, didn't it?

               C.U. OF MARTIN

                                     MARTIN
                         No. You drove us here.

                                     PAUL
                         Yeah, but it's still kind of eerie, 
                         isn't it?

                                     MARTIN
                         No.

               Martin's not listening. His eyes track the house out the 
               window.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               of the mansion.

               They roll slowly by Debi's house.

               They drive in silence for a beat. Paul suddenly swerves to 
               the shoulder, jams the brake, and turns on Martin.

                                     PAUL
                         Ten years. What happened!?

                                     MARTIN
                         I freaked out, joined the Army, worked 
                         for the government, and went into 
                         business for myself... I'm a 
                         professional killer.

                                     PAUL
                         Thank you.

               Paul, satisfied, gets back on the road.

                                     PAUL
                         Professional killer, huh? Does that 
                         come with a good HMO?

               EXT. ROAD - DAY

               Paul makes a turn. They approach a large car dealership. The 
               sign above it says

                           "DESTEPHANO'S BAVARIAN MOTOR WORKS"

                                     MARTIN
                              (looking ahead)
                         He sells BMW's?

                                     PAUL
                         He sold me this bad boy.

                                     MARTIN
                         How could you put your hard-earned 
                         dollars into the hands of the class 
                         bully?

                                     PAUL
                         He gave me a great deal.

                                     MARTIN
                         Mein Dealer.

               Paul slows outside the lot. BOB DESTEPHANO-- a big, angry-
               looking man in an expensive suit-- stands in the lot, puffing 
               up amidst his stable of expensive cars.

                                     PAUL
                         Hey! Bob! The car's running great.

                                     BOB
                              (dismissive)
                         Glad to hear it.

               Bob turns his back on them and begins to walk away.

                                     MARTIN
                              (shouts)
                         Bob...

                                     BOB
                              (turning)
                         What?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's me. Martin Blank.

                                     BOB
                         Really...? So what?

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay. See you later.

               EXT. RADIO STATION - NIGHT

               Martin climbs out of Paul's car and begins to walk toward 
               his own. Paul calls after him.

                                     PAUL
                         See you at the left-a-boy-came-back-
                         a-man-made-good party.

               Martin nods him off. Paul pulls away.

               MARTIN

               stands across the street from the radio station, looking at 
               Debi in the window... Martin draws a thin rifle scope from 
               his back pocket, and lifts it to his eye...

               MARTIN'S P.O.V. - SCOPE

               of Debi, in the crosshairs, bored, tapping a pencil to the 
               beat of an unheard song.

               MARTIN

               dejected. He puts the scope away and gets in his car.

               INT. 7-11 - NIGHT

               Martin walks into the store, looking around once again at 
               his old home. To the left of the door, a typical suburban 
               teenage SKATEBOARDER is lost in the "Mortal Combat" video 
               game and something too loud from his walkman. Carl, still 
               working the double, nods to Martin.

                                     CARL
                         Can I help you?

                                     MARTIN
                         What's done is done.

               Martin moves up one aisle to the gum rack. He picks out a 
               pack of Beaman's and unwraps a stick as he heads to the 
               counter. On the way, he makes a black Town Car pulling into 
               a spot next to his own. He immediately changes course, and 
               bee-lines for a rear aisle where he ducks down...

               FELIX

               Comes through the door, drawing a Mac-10 for each hand.

               MARTIN

               grabs the gum out of his mouth and sticks it onto the bottom 
               of the Glock .9mm he has produced from somewhere in his suit.

               CARL

               grabs the cash drawer, sets it on the counter, and puts his 
               hands up.

               THE SKATEBOARDER

               Plays on.

               FELIX AND CARL

               Felix shoots CARL DEAD on his way toward

               MARTIN

               Bolts up the cooler aisle. Bursts of FIRE follow him, taking 
               out each freezer door behind him.

               MARTIN AND FELIX

               EXCHANGE FIRE John Woo-style between the aisles of the cramped 
               store. Felix delivers a close-to-home burst as he jumps the 
               counter, sending Martin diving out of view.

               MARTIN

               pinned behind the Slurpee machine, pauses to reload his now 
               two Glock nines. Martin steals a glance to get a bead on 
               Felix and is met with a salvo that rocks the Slurpee machine, 
               spattering him with several flavors... and that's all he can 
               take. Martin comes up BLASTING with both guns, but all that's 
               left of Felix is swinging doors and squealing tires.

               Martin moves to the cashier island, low to the ground.

               THE SKATEBOARDER

               Twitches and jerks, still absorbed in his game and oblivious 
               to the surrounding carnage.

               CASHIER ISLAND

               Martin crawls through the waist-level swinging door and moves 
               to Carl.

               CARL

               is really dead. Martin rolls him over to check it out and 
               finds

               A BOMB

               under the corpse.

               MARTIN

               Flips the corpse back on top of the device and leaps the 
               counter toward the doors. He grabs the shoulder or the 
               Skateboarder, who shrugs him off, annoyed--

                                     SKATEBOARDER
                         What the fuck, man?!

               The video game screen explodes. Shot full of Martin's bullets. 
               The Skateboarder reacts backward and Martin jerks him out of 
               the double doors.

               EXT. 7-11 - CONTINUOUS

               The Skateboarder is running like crazy, and Martin's car is 
               peeling out in reverse as the 7-11 is blown to hell.

               INT. MARTIN'S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

               Martin's hair is matted with Slurpee as he tries to drive 
               and cool out. He sees his do in the mirror, pulls out a comb 
               and starts to comb it back into a slick Pat Riley style.

               EXT. RADIO STATION - NIGHT

               Martin walks in, not looking half bad, considering. Debi 
               looks up from some reading. "Naīve Melody" by the Talking 
               Heads plays in the studio.

                                     MARTIN
                         Are you going to the reunion?

                                     DEBI
                         No. I'm not going. Is that why you're 
                         here?

                                     MARTIN
                         That's part of it.

                                     DEBI
                         Well, you'll have a ball. You seem 
                         to have everything everybody wants 
                         when they go back. The car, the suit, 
                         the watch. The look. That just leaves 
                         the little things, like happiness, 
                         character, point of view...

                                     MARTIN
                         It's always the little things.

                                     DEBI
                         Yep.

               Beat.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm wondering how you've been. How 
                         you are. I'd like to catch up with 
                         you. If it's possible.

               Beat as Debi considers. She spins her seat to face him.

                                     DEBI
                         Okay. Let's catch up. You go first.

                                     MARTIN
                         Well, there's not much to tell.

                                     DEBI
                         I'm sure you've done worthwhile things 
                         in the last ten years. You've had 
                         experiences.

                                     MARTIN
                         Bad experiences.

                                     DEBI
                         You met people.

                                     MARTIN
                         Bad people.

                                     DEBI
                         Watched television?

                                     MARTIN
                         Bad television.

                                     DEBI
                              (amused)
                         Jesus. Marty. You're pathetic. It 
                         sounds like you need a Shockabuku.

                                     MARTIN
                         What's that?

                                     DEBI
                         It's a swift spiritual kick to the 
                         head that alters your reality forever.

                                     MARTIN
                         That'd be good.

               Beat.

                                     DEBI
                         What do you want?

               The question is open.

                                     MARTIN
                         I figured I could pick you up tomorrow 
                         around seven o'clock.

                                     DEBI
                         Let me get this straight, are you 
                         asking me out?

                                     MARTIN
                         Yes.

                                     DEBI
                         Unbelievable.

                                     MARTIN
                         Seven it is.

                                     DEBI
                         I'll think about it.

               EXT. JOSHUA TREE CAMPSITE - NIGHT

               Under a crisp and starry night, a man and a woman sit around 
               a campfire. As we MOVE CLOSER we see that the woman is 
               Marcella reading, "Women Who Run With Wolves."  She tends to 
               s'mores on the campfire, assembles one, and hands it to MONTY, 
               her young outdoorsman boyfriend. Monty is perched on a small 
               boulder, engaged in a Tai-Chi-like ritual, wearing Patagonia's 
               finest. There is a path of crystals leading from the fire to 
               the boulder. In the background is a tent and a Nissan 
               Pathfinder. Monty's watch goes off.

                                     MONTY
                         Baby, it's eight o'clock.

               Marcella gets up.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Thanks, Monty.

               She tousles Monty's hair on the way to the truck.

               INT. TRUCK - CONTINUOUS

               Marcella gets in. She shuts the door and dials the phone.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Hey there, how'd it go?

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - NIGHT - INTERCUT

               Martin sits on the edge of the bed in a towel.

                                     MARTIN
                         It isn't done.

               Marcella pauses, taking this in.

                                     MARCELLA
                         This is not good.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'll do it tomorrow.

               Marcella considers this.

                                     MARCELLA
                         What's it look like?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's fine.

                                     MARCELLA
                         You haven't looked at the dossier.

                                     MARTIN
                              (a little defensive)
                         I've looked at it.

               Martin eyes the vent.

                                     MARCELLA
                         You have.

                                     MARTIN
                         Yes. It's the same as usual. Nothing 
                         remarkable about it at all.

                                     MARCELLA
                         I have to call the client and give 
                         them a reason why you're late.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tell them my house exploded.

               Beat. Marcella doesn't know what to make of this.

                                     MARCELLA
                         I'll call them and tell them you're 
                         taking your time. Being a 
                         professional.

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay, call them. Fine. Oh-- And if 
                         you could find out why they double-
                         booked the job, and who is trying to 
                         kill me, and call me back-- that's 
                         be great.

                                     MARCELLA
                         Will do.

               Martin hangs up. He moves up to the air vent, deciding to 
               get down to business. He pries it open, and withdraws his 
               briefcase, putting it down on the bed and propping it open. 
               He looks at the unopened dossier for a moment, flips it over 
               in his hands, and tosses it on the bed.

               BRIEFCASE

               We catch a glimpse of Martin's weapons. Martin picks up the 
               envelope and is about to tear the seal when

               THE PHONE RINGS

               Martin drops the envelope and lifts the receiver.

                                     DEBI
                              (filtered)
                         Are you there?

                                     MARTIN
                         Yes.

                                     DEBI
                         Pick me up at my father's house at 
                         around seven. And don't be late this 
                         time.

               Beat.

                                     DEBI
                         Hello...?

                                     MARTIN
                         This night, this reunion will be an 
                         important step in our relationship.

                                     DEBI
                         You're fucking psycho.

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't rush to judgement until all 
                         the facts are in.

               She hangs up. Martin smiles and replaces the receiver. He 
               turns to the apparatus laid out on the bed.

               GUNS, BULLETS, ETC.

               What has been his life is beginning to look more like death 
               to him. He places the envelope in the case, then returns the 
               case to its hiding place.

               EXT. DINER - DAY

               Lardner and McCullers stake out Martin from the Country Squire 
               across the street.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         I wish he'd do his job already so we 
                         could do our job.

                                     LARDNER
                         We can't do our job unless he does 
                         his job.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         Why don't we just do his job then, 
                         so we can do our job, and get the 
                         fuck out of here.

                                     LARDNER
                         Do his job? I'm not a cold-blooded 
                         killer.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         Wait a minute--

                                     LARDNER
                         -Look. You want to kill a Good Guy, 
                         but not be a Bad Guy, you wait until 
                         a Bad Guy kills the Good Guy, and 
                         then you come in and kill the Bad 
                         Guy, and then you're the Good Guy.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         So if we do his job, we're the bad 
                         guys. If we do our job, we're the 
                         good guys.

                                     LARDNER
                         Yup.

               They both laugh, as if at some great joke. Their laughter is 
               caught short by the sight of

               LARDNER AND MCCULLERS' POV

                                     GROCER
                         moving into the diner.

               INT. DINER - LATE MORNING

               Martin sits in a window booth splitting nutrient caplets 
               into an apple juice and looking out the window.

               GROCER

               slides into the booth, across from Martin.

               MARTIN AND GROCER

               Martin draws a nasty little PPK pistol from his waist, and 
               levels it at Grocer under the table-- but Grocer is already 
               drawing his pistol down there, and there is an instant Mexican 
               breakfast stand-off.

                                     GROCER
                         Easy, tiger.

               A waitress approaches.

                                     WAITRESS
                         Hi. Welcome to B.I. McCafferty's. My 
                         name is Melanie and I'll be your 
                         server this morning. Let me tell you 
                         about some of our specials. Today we 
                         have the "Alfalfa on My Mind," our 
                         feature omelette. And there's our 
                         "Gatsby's West Egg Omelette." And if 
                         you're in the mood for something 
                         different there's the "I left my 
                         heart in San Franchezie."

               Martin and Grocer's eyes remain locked.

                                     GROCER
                         I want two eggs poached, hash brown 
                         well-done. English muffin for the 
                         bread. And a coffee.

                                     MARTIN
                         Whole-grain pancakes. And an egg-
                         white omelette.

                                     WAITRESS
                         What would you like in the omelette?

                                     MARTIN
                         Nothing in the omelette. Nothing at 
                         all.

               The waitress nods pertly and leaves.

                                     GROCER
                              (re: the omelette)
                         Come on, live a little. I'm sorry 
                         about the incident yesterday.

                                     MARTIN
                         No harm no foul.

                                     GROCER
                         A little misunderstanding among my 
                         associates.

               Beat.

                                     GROCER
                         I told them to kill you and they 
                         didn't.

                                     MARTIN
                         Hard to get good help these days.

                                     GROCER
                         But since we're both here, I think 
                         it's time to take a fresh look at 
                         our relationship.

                                     MARTIN
                         I didn't get into this business to 
                         have "associates." And I don't want 
                         to join your Goddamned union. "Loner--
                         " "Loner gunman." Get it? "On my 
                         own." That's the whole point. Why 
                         don't you become a cop, or something. 
                         You can drink coffee in the morning... 
                         with friends!

               Grocer looks a little hurt.

                                     MARTIN
                              (easing up)
                         Look, this is a one-on-one business... 
                         Every time you get to know people, 
                         bad things happen. If it'll make you 
                         feel any better, this is my last 
                         job. So what do you say we put our 
                         guns away and forget the whole damn 
                         thing.

               Grocer loses it.

                                     GROCER
                         Fuck you! No scabs! From now on, 
                         everything's regulated!

               Long beat as Grocer gets a hold of himself.

                                     MARTIN
                         No deal.

                                     GROCER
                         Fine. But we're not going to let you 
                         do your job. Because we're gonna do 
                         it. And then, after we do your job, 
                         we're gonna do another little job...

                                     MARTIN
                              (Wry)
                         Is that right?

                                     GROCER
                         Yeah-- after I shoot you through the 
                         fucking forehead I'm gonna fuck you 
                         in the bullethole.

                                     MARTIN
                         Nice talk, Sugarmouth.

               INT. SUITE - BATHROOM - NIGHT

               Martin sits at a desk, staring at the reunion card. He tosses 
               it aside, gets up, and moves in front of a mirror. He wears 
               a crisp black suit and practices his greeting smile...

                                     MARTIN
                              (trying on smile)
                         Yes, I'm a pet psychiatrist. I sell 
                         couch insurance. I test-market 
                         positive thinking. I lead a weekend 
                         men's group, actually. We specialize 
                         in ritual killings. I'm hungry, are 
                         you hungry, I'm hungry, oooh, ooh.
                              (sarcastic)
                         Hi, I'm Martin Blank, remember me?  
                         I'm not married, I have no kids and 
                         I'd blow your brains out if someone 
                         paid me enough... So how've you been? 
                         Where do you stand on The Issues? 
                         Are you Left? Right? Up, down, proud, 
                         shamed, blahblahblahblah--

               EXT. DEBI'S HOUSE - EARLY EVENING

               Martin makes his way up the walk leading to the front door, 
               holding a simple bouquet of flowers. He skips up the front 
               steps and finds the doorbell. After a moment, Debi answers.

                                     DEBI
                         Flowers. That's funny.

                                     MARTIN
                         As long as I get the laugh.

                                     DEBI
                              (taking them)
                         Here. Let me put these in some rubbing 
                         alcohol.

               She backs into the house, and he follows.

               INT. NEWBERRY FOYER - CONTINUOUS

               Martin follows Debi into the hall. Both are enjoying this 
               atavistic ritual.

                                     MARTIN
                         You look beautiful.

                                     DEBI
                         Okay... Hold on...

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               through a doorway leading into a den. All that's visible of 
               MR. NEWBERRY, Debi's father, is a pair of legs resting in a 
               Barcolounger.

                                     DEBI (V.O.)
                         ...Let me get my coat.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'll just help myself to a cocktail.

               DEBI

               moves up the stairs and disappears.

               MARTIN

               looks at the legs, rolls his shoulders, and heads into the 
               den.

               INT. DEN - CONTINUOUS

               Mr. Newberry sits in the recliner reading a Tom Clancy novel. 
               He is a corporate Aspen-dude-ranch sort with a good head of 
               hair. He sighs, closes the book on his knee and looks up to 
               Martin.

                                     MARTIN
                         Good evening, Mr. Newberry.

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         Good evening, Mr. Blank.

                                     MARTIN
                         How are you? How's business?

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         Martin, I don't know where you've 
                         been since you abandoned my daughter 
                         ten years ago, and I don't care. It 
                         was good that you left, and I'm glad 
                         you did. So what do you want to talk 
                         about? You've grown up a bit. Maybe 
                         I had you figured wrong.

                                     MARTIN
                         How's that?

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         I visualized you, in a haze, as one 
                         of the slackster, flannel-wearing, 
                         coffeehouse-misanthropes I've been 
                         seeing in Newsweek.

                                     MARTIN
                         I took the other road. I'm more of a 
                         self-reflective young lion who does 
                         business with lead-pipe cruelty and 
                         goes home to drink light beer in 
                         milky-eyes isolation. I love sports 
                         and sex and have no real relationships 
                         with anyone. And you?

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         Oh, you know me, Martin. I'm the 
                         same old sell-out baby-boomer, 
                         exploiting the oppressed I got shot 
                         for at Kent State. But why don't we 
                         have a drink and forget the whole 
                         thing?

               Newberry lays down his book, and moves behind the wet bar.

                                     MARTIN
                         Why not?

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         So what are you doing with your life 
                         now, son?

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm a professional killer.

                                     MR. NEWBERRY
                         That's good.

               Debi's footsteps are heard coming down the stairs.

                                     DEBI (O.S.)
                         Okay

               Mr. Newberry watches Martin turn and walk out of the room.

               EXT. DEBI'S HOUSE

               Martin and Debi pull away from the curb.

               INT. CAR - DUSK

               Martin and Debi drive through that to Debi is town, and to 
               Martin is a widening pool of quicksand.

                                     MARTIN
                         Do you want to get a drink first?

                                     DEBI
                         I think they'll probably have booze 
                         there.

                                     MARTIN
                         Right.

               Martin's right hand shakes off of the wheel a bit. He grips 
               it tighter. Suddenly, Martin turns the wheel and pulls into 
               a gas station parking lot, halting next to a pay phone.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'll just be a second.

               Debi nods, a little confused but going with it.

                                     DEBI
                         Okay...

               EXT. PAYPHONE - MINUTES LATER

               Martin stands at the kiosk next to the Town Car, mid-
               conversation.

                                     MARTIN
                              (defensive)
                         ...Well, I didn't kill anyone, but 
                         someone tried to kill me and the guy 
                         in the middle got killed. So if I 
                         see that guy again I'm definitely 
                         going to kill him, but I won't kill 
                         anyone else. Oh, except for the guy 
                         I was sent here to kill. I don't 
                         know...

               INT. OATMAN'S OFFICE - INTERCUT

               Oatman treats his patient.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         What else? Say more.

                                     MARTIN
                         Saw my mom... I'm with Debi, and I'm 
                         on my way to the reunion.

               In the background, Lardner and McCullers drive past the 
               station.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Okay. Repeat this after me.

                                     MARTIN
                         Out Loud?

               Martin looks to Debi. She looks up and smiles. We hear Dr. 
               Oatman's command, Martin mumbles them back.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...I am at home with the me. I am 
                         rooted in me, who is on this 
                         adventure.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         Take a deep breath and realize, that 
                         this is me breathing.

                                     MARTIN
                         This is me breating.

               Martin takes in a few breaths.

                                     MARITN
                         Alright, look. I gotta go.

                                     DR. OATMAN
                         And don't kill anyone.

                                     MARTIN
                         Right. Don't kill anyone...

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - SAME

               Felix rummages delicately around the room. He goes to the

               NIGHTSTAND

               The reunion invite.

               FELIX

               picks it up and scans it.

               EXT. GROSSE POINT HIGH SCHOOL - DUSK

               Lardner and McCullers sit it the parking lot. They watch 
               Martin and Debi pull into a space.

                                     LARDNER
                         He's falling for her. Look at him.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         He using her.

                                     LARDNER
                         You're wrong. Look at his face.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         One cannot love and kill.

                                     LARDNER
                              (defensive)
                         I love. I kill.

               MARTIN AND DEBI

               climb out of the car. Martin, breathing deeply and wiping 
               his sweaty palms, leans against the car and tries to calm 
               himself. Eighties music echoes from the gym.

                                     MARTIN
                              (to himself)
                         Shoulda brought my gun.

                                     DEBI
                         What?

               He pulls himself off the car and heads toward

               GROSSE POINTE HIGH SCHOOL

               A sprawling red-brick Gothic structure with many wings. It 
               is topped by church-like towers. It's scary.

               INT. GYM - NIGHT

               Martin and Debi enter and pause to take in the entire scene. 
               A benevolent Ronald Reagan hangs crookedly above. Basketball 
               nets are swung back, draped with crepe. Lights are half-low 
               and the music is loud. Alumni are dancing.

                                     ARLENE
                         Welcome back! I'm Arlene Oslott-
                         Joseph.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm Martin Blank.

                                     DEBI
                         Debi Newberry.

               Debi heads off into the gym, smiling back as she strands 
               Martin. Arlene rises from a card table. They have little to 
               say. Martin wasn't part of her crowd.

                                     ARLENE
                         Marty, you haven't changed a bit!

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't say that.

               Arlene gives him a NAMETAG. As a special torture, the tags 
               have YEARBOOK PHOTOS. Martin looks at the name tag 
               uncomfortably.

                                     ARLENE
                         We had pictures put on, that way 
                         everybody knows who everybody was!

                                     MARTIN
                         Wonderful.

                                     ARLENE
                         So, what are you doing now?

                                     MARTIN
                         Whatever I can get away with.

               She smiles at his joke and is immediately distracted by the 
               next arrival. Martin moves off...

                                     ARLENE
                              (to the next person)
                         Isn't it cute. It's so everybody 
                         knows who everybody was!

               He circles the crowded gym. Looking for familiar faces. He 
               stops at the open bar.

                                     BATENDER
                         What can I make you?

                                     MARTIN
                         Beer.

               The bartender gets him a beer. Martin recognizes a guy at 
               the bar. He is well-appointed and shiny. He is KEN ALDRIDGE.

                                     MARTIN
                         Hey, Ken. How have you been?

                                     KEN
                              (glancing at Martin's 
                              name tag)
                         Hello Martin. How have you been?

                                     MARTIN
                         Not bad. You?

               Bob Destephano arrives next to them and orders a drink. Eye 
               contact is made.

                                     KEN
                         Hello, Bob.

                                     MARTIN
                         Hey, Bob.

               Bob turns slightly toward them. They continue in their 
               conversation.

                                     KEN
                         I'm an attorney. I'm with Moss, Brice 
                         & Fromeyer.

                                     MARTIN
                         That sounds pretty interesting...

               Bob wants to join the conversation but doesn't know how.

                                     KEN
                         Sometimes. I'm in divorce, mainly. 
                         Some property. Some personal injury.

                                     MARTIN
                         Those all seem kind of related...

               Bob takes another drink and mopes off, Martin watches him 
               go.

                                     MARTIN
                         Tragedy makes you thirsty.

               Ken chuckles. The bartender arrives with the bottle. Martin 
               grabs it and begins to move off.

                                     MARTIN
                         Well... I have to take this over to 
                         Debi.

                                     KEN
                         Here. Take my card. Wait a minute... 
                         here's a special one. For top-shelf 
                         clients.

               Ken hands Martin a Monte Blanc pen with Ken's title and 
               business address printed on the shaft. Martin reads it and 
               puts it in his kerchief pocket.

                                     MARTIN
                         Thanks.

               Ken goes back to listening to the Guys at the bar.

               MARTIN

               makes his way through the upbeat crowd of well-wishers. TERRY 
               emerges like an inkspot on a clean white whirt, and intercepts 
               Martin. His angst is barely under control as he sidles up to 
               Martin.

                                     TERRY
                         I don't know, Blank, all these fucking 
                         people, driving me crazy. Look at 
                         them over there, memorializing old 
                         times, acting all like it was 
                         something "life-changing." And the 
                         people in the National Honor Society? 
                         The name tags?

               Martin shrugs.

                                     TERRY
                         They have special blue starts on 
                         them like it fucking matters now 
                         that they were in the honor club ten 
                         years ago. I'm getting fucking 
                         nauseous from all this sentimental 
                         bullshit. It's making me sick.

               Terry stops suddenly as if he's finished. Martin reads this 
               man's nametag.

                                     MARTIN
                         Why are you here... Terry?

               Terry turns on a dime.

                                     TERRY
                         I wanted to see a couple people. But 
                         I don't want to talk about the old 
                         days... What did we have together, 
                         Martin? Typing?

                                     MARTIN
                              (remembering)
                         Drafting.

                                     TERRY
                         Yeah, I couldn't stand that fucking 
                         class. But I appreciate you helping 
                         me out, man.

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't mention it.

                                     TERRY
                         Yeah, thanks. Well I'm going to try 
                         and get out of here, man. I'll see 
                         you later.

               Terry slinks off.

               BAR - SAME

               Bob Destephano grabs two more scotches off the bar and turns 
               to leave, thoroughly morose. In his path, he finds DAN 
               KORETZKY, the good-looking side of brainy.

                                     DAN
                         Bob. Bob Destephano.

                                     BOB
                         What?

                                     DAN
                         I'm Dan. Dan Koretzky.

                                     BOB
                         Computer guy.

                                     DAN
                         Yeah... Hey, I saw you at your dad's 
                         dealership the other day.

                                     BOB
                         I sell BMW's. What do you do?

                                     DAN
                         Not much, actually. My software 
                         company just went public so I'm 
                         just... hanging out, really.

               There's a sudden lull in the conversation. Bob tries his 
               drunken hand at relating...

                                     BOB
                         Remember high school?

                                     DAN
                         Sure. Listen. Why don't you join us 
                         up in the grandstands?

               Dan points up to a group of happy, laughing people. Bob walks 
               off shaking his head and smiling bitterly.

               INT. GYM - LATER

               Debi and Martin are seated at a round table with six others 
               in an area blocked off for dinner. Plates of gumbo are 
               arriving and the wine is poured. DARIUS, an African-American, 
               is in mid-conversation with AMY, who looks like she walked 
               out of a Laura Ashley catalog and sits on the other side of 
               Martin. DENNIS and MIKE are two suits in the midst of a non-
               stop sports conversation.

                                     MIKE
                         ...You gotta hold the fans 
                         responsible, though, Dennis, because 
                         they're the ones putting up with the 
                         mediocre product.

                                     DENNIS
                         I guess, though, you know, if you 
                         look at it Mike, that park is a 
                         beautiful park, I've gone to that 
                         park many times - I've had the 
                         greatest time of my life at that 
                         ballpark and let's face it, I tell 
                         you this, Mike, by the sixth inning, 
                         if you're having the fun you should 
                         be having at Tigers Stadium, you 
                         don't even know what the hell's going 
                         on anyway...

               They both crack up at this.

               ANGLE ON DARIUS, MARTIN, & DEBI

                                     DARIUS
                         Have you two been together since 
                         high school?

                                     DEBI
                         No--

                                     MARTIN
                         --Yes. Actually we just bought that 
                         little Frank Lloyd Wright on Pine 
                         Avenue... Debi's a social worker and 
                         I mow down insurance claims at Aetna--

                                     DEBI
                         We haven't seen each other since 
                         high school.

                                     DARIUS
                         I figured. You two look too happy 
                         together. I shouldn't say that though, 
                         I'm married... So, Martin-- what are 
                         you up to these days? What do you do 
                         for a living?

               Debi perks up; this should be interesting.

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm in pro-active international 
                         relations. It's a very specialized 
                         company. We execute economic 
                         investment opportunities. Sort of 
                         economic clean-up... with an emphasis 
                         on personnel. It's boring, you know, 
                         it's boring. I don't like to talk 
                         about it because I don't think what 
                         a man does necessarily reflects who 
                         he is...

               Martin begins to draw strange looks from all over the table. 
               Martin may be in trouble.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...I've always tried to refrain from 
                         a black-and-white moral lexicon--you 
                         know, good, bad, right, wrong--I've 
                         been more interested in the gray 
                         areas.

               Silence. Martin pushes on.

                                     MARTIN
                         But that's no way to live. I guess 
                         you've got to just take the leap of 
                         faith. Believe in something. Fuck 
                         it.

                                     DARIUS
                         Sounds complicated, Martin. Are you 
                         happy?

                                     MARTIN
                         I just have to close this one last 
                         account. I'd like to just stop now, 
                         today, but I can't... It's a step in 
                         the right direction.

                                     DEBI
                         I don't know, Martin. It sounds like 
                         you're feeling compromised. Live the 
                         way you want. The only thing that's 
                         inexcusable, to me, is cynicism. 
                         That's the biggest cop-out there is.

               Nods of assent come from around the table. A brief silence, 
               and then...

                                     AMY
                         But wait. I still don't understand 
                         what you do.

                                     MARTIN
                         I work at Kentucky Fried Chicken.

               Debi suppresses a laugh.

                                     AMY
                         You do not.

                                     MARTIN
                         Yes I do.

                                     AMY
                         You don't...

                                     MARTIN
                         In the corporate offices.

                                     AMY
                         Oh... really?

                                     MARTIN
                         Yeah...

                                     AMY
                         What do you do?

                                     MARTIN
                         I sell biscuits to the Southland.

                                     AMY
                         You do not.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's what I do.

                                     AMY
                         You're so funny...

                                     MARTIN
                         I sell biscuits and gravy all over 
                         the Southland--

                                     AMY
                         --Stop it--

                                     MARTIN
                         You know those horsey biscuit gravy 
                         packets? I move all of those--

                                     AMY
                         --No.

                                     MARTIN
                         Sometimes we sell them to McDonald's 
                         and just change them to special 
                         barbecue sauce.

               Across the table from Martin and Debi, Dennis turns to Darius.

                                     DENNIS
                         What do you think about black coaching 
                         in the NFL, Darius? Because I think 
                         it's great.

                                     DARIUS
                         I don't pay much attention to 
                         football.

                                     MIKE
                         I have to agree with you Dennis. 
                         It's good to see that the owners are 
                         willing to put the franchise behind 
                         a black head coach or QB when for 
                         years in the league they've been 
                         kept out of the thinking positions 
                         and relegated mainly to the physical 
                         game.

                                     DENNIS
                         But now, you see, you have Warren 
                         Moon at the helm, Cunningham, Art 
                         Shell, and the coach up at 
                         Minnesota...

                                     MIKE
                         Dennis Green. And if you remember, 
                         Doug Williams was the first black 
                         man to prove that on a Superbowl 
                         Sunday.

               Amy leans in to Martin.

                                     AMY
                              (to Martin)
                         I'm teaching art at Cedar Junior 
                         High School.

                                     DENNIS
                         ...Yeah, listen. Where do you stand 
                         on this whole Louis Farrakhan 
                         issue...?

                                     DARIUS
                              (facetious)
                         I'm a De Klerk man myself.

               Debi nods, indicating to the deejay stand.

                                     DEBI
                         I'm going over to play some tunes.

               Martin watches her walk away.

               INT. GYM - GRANDSTANDS - LATER

               Dan Koretzky sits with two other FORMER-SQUARES-turned-
               handsome-fellas who now enjoy a confidence that comes with 
               early investment in Microsoft.

               Martin looks out over the milieu below, enjoying the seene. 
               He eavesdrops on a group of men from a few rows back.

               GROUP OF MEN

                                     DAN
                         Look at her. There it is. Jenny 
                         Slater. The finest thing that ever 
                         walked these halls.

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #2
                         I believe she married the state of 
                         Maine.

                                     DAN
                         Yeah, he's around here somewhere. 
                         What a shame. She would have looked 
                         great in my fucking Bentley.

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #3
                         No, my friends, Jenny Beam. Not only 
                         was she as fine, if not finer, than 
                         Slater, but she had the "bad girl" 
                         thing going for her. And the red 
                         hair. C'mon.

                                     DAN
                         She's a paramedic in Skokie, Illinois.

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #2
                         You both are mistaken. Jenny Maretti 
                         was the finest. No question about 
                         it.

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #3
                         The three Jenny's. Three Jenny's. 
                         All named Jenny...

                                     DAN
                         You know what I'm really hoping? 
                         That Jenny Slater gets divorced. And 
                         she's twenty-eight--

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #3
                         --she's got half the state of Maine--

                                     DAN
                         She's twenty-eight years old, with 
                         two kids, she's still really really 
                         fine, and I see her at a bookstore 
                         or something, and she sees me for 
                         what I was then, and what I am now: 
                         the redemption for all her failure.

                                     FORMER-SQUARE #3
                         You mean the redemption for all your 
                         failure.

               They ponder this. Martin looks down on the gym, concentrating 
               on Debi.

               BOB DESTEPHANO

               Dancing drunkenly, miserable, like an unbalanced orangutan.

                                                                    CUT TO:

               INT. GYM - DEEJAY BOOTH - LATER

               Martin stands by Debi as she sits in for a set in the deejay 
               booth, on a raised stage. They are playing an old sophomoric 
               game.

                                     DEBI
                         Which would you rather...?

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay... Would you rather... commit 
                         yourself sexually to a four-by-nine 
                         cell with former President George 
                         Herbert Walker Bush dressed as a 
                         super-model for a month, or make 
                         love to a otter on crank for a week?

                                     DEBI
                         Soft. I'll take the junkie otter, 
                         clearly! I'd let the little beast 
                         scratch and claw all he wants... 
                         Okay. Would you rather make love to 
                         the candied corpse of Phyllis Diller--

                                     MARTIN
                         --She's not dead---

                                     DEBI
                         It's just a game...! Alright. Candied 
                         Diller, or... wear a hot pork vest 
                         across the desert with a fully 
                         digested crab apple in your mouth?

                                     MARTIN
                         Wow. I have to give this some thought.

                                     DEBI
                         No time.

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay, then. Clearly candied Diller.

               STACEY breaks the moment, looking up at the two, horrified 
               and unsure at what she's heard.

                                     STACEY
                         Marty! Debi! How are you! So many 
                         people came, but I never expected to 
                         see you Marty. Or you Debi... I 
                         mean... because of what your 
                         divorce... I didn't mean to say that. 
                         I just meant you look so good.

                                     DEBI
                         Thank you.

                                     STACEY
                         Do you think you could play "Too 
                         Shy'" by Kaja Goo Goo?

                                     DEBI
                         Stacey, why don't you come up here 
                         and take over for a little while?

                                     STACEY
                         I'd love to.

               Stacey nods thanks and makes her way up into the booth as 
               Martin and Debi make their way down.

                                     DEBI
                              (to Martin)
                         Everybody thinks they know me now 
                         that I'm divorced.

               She leads Martin toward the exit.

                                     DEBI
                         It's time to see you in private.

               INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY

               Martin and Debi walk down the hallway, alone together.

                                     MARTIN
                         Even though I left, you never left 
                         me. Not just memory but a substance 
                         in my blood.

                                     DEBI
                              (smiling)
                         Like heroin?

                                     MARTIN
                         Too junky-kitschy. Deeper, deeper.

                                     DEBI
                              (enjoying this)
                         Like love?

                                     MARTIN
                         Could be. The physical substance of 
                         love.

               Debi stops.

                                     DEBI
                         I'll accept that. Follow me.

               Together they move into what appears to be the Nurse's Office, 
               and close the door behind them.

               INT. NURSE'S OFFICE

               Martin and Debi make wild banshee love.

               EXT. PARKING LOT - SAME

               Lardner and McCullers watch Felix into the gym.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         Looks like someone keeps trying to 
                         do our job for us.

                                     LARDNER
                         If he does our job, he's our job.

                                     MCCULLERS
                         I get it.

               INT. GYM - SAME

               FELIX

               steps through the doorway he's standing in and strolls into 
               the crowded gym. He wears the standard khaki-pants-blue-blazer 
               combo, with no nametag. He's clearly too old for the class 
               of 1984.

               INT. HALLWAY - LATER

               Martin and Debi come out of the Nurse's Office. The post-
               coital mood is broken as they hear The Human League's "Don't 
               You Want Me, Baby?"  blasting from the gym. Martin and Debi 
               tune in on the song for a moment, unhappy at remembering 
               that particular moment in pop music history. Debi looks to 
               Martin, something must be done about it.

                                     DEBI
                         I'll be right back....

               Debi kisses him. They split up. Martin walks off, the happiest 
               we've seen him....

               INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY

               Bob and several others from the muscle-to-fat crew play a 
               drunken scrimmage with a papier-mache table ornament footbal 
               that is coming unwound. Bob quarterbacks and begins to recite 
               a long, complicated, and forgotten play. Martin approaches 
               from behind Bob and glides through the ad-hoc line-up, 
               continuing down the hall. Bob yells "hike" as he stares after 
               Martin, distracted. Bob's rushed upon and sacked. He lets 
               the papier-mache ball drop and crack on the floor.

               INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - LATER

               Martin walks down a silent, deserted hall of lockers and 
               classroom doors. The only sounds are his footsteps and the 
               echoed strains of Iggy Pop's "Wild Child" from the distant 
               gym. He stops at locker number 1963 and flips the dial: Right-
               back left-right again. It opens. He pops up the steel false 
               ceiling in the empty locker, fishes his hand in the opening, 
               and withdraws what he is looking for: an ancient joint. He 
               holds it up and examines the now brown and dried reefer. He 
               grinds it into dust in his hand.

               INT. HALLWAY

               Debi comes out of the gym and starts down the hall, the music 
               changed for the better.

               INT. HALLWAY - SAME

               Martin senses he is not alone. He turns to find Bob 
               Destephano. The big man holds a glass unsteadily and slurs 
               slightly when he speaks. Bob is looking sad and scary. He 
               leans into Martin

                                     BOB
                         So. You and Debi. Gonna hit that 
                         shit again?

                                     MARTIN
                         Fine, Bob. How are you?

                                     BOB
                         Never better.

                                     MARTIN
                         Really?

               Bob crumbles.

                                     BOB
                         Ahhh... it's all fucked up. Nothing 
                         adds up to nothing... you work your 
                         whole life, day in and day out-- try 
                         to make sense of it all. One day 
                         you're twenty-seven and what do you 
                         get to show for it...

                                     MARTIN
                         You could've been a contender, huh?

               Bob realizes he can't even express his own tragedy without 
               the use of cliches.

                                     BOB
                         Smart boy. Real smart. Let's see how 
                         smart you are with my foot up your 
                         ass! I'm gonna kick your ass!

               Martin steps to Bob.

                                     MARTIN
                         Why would you want to hit me, Bob? 
                         Do you really believe that there's 
                         some stored up conflict that needs 
                         resolution between us? We don't exist. 
                         There's nothing between us. So who 
                         do you want to hit, Bob? It's not 
                         me.

               Bob slumps against the lockers, deflated.

                                     BOB
                         What am I gonna do?

                                     MARTIN
                         What do you want to do?

                                     BOB
                         I want to be an actor.

                                     MARTIN
                         Then express yourself, Bob.

               Bob frowns, trying to think of a way to express himself.

                                     MARTIN
                              (catching him)
                         Be honest...

               Bob backs up and lets out a huge, drunken caveman scream, 
               then stops abruptly, and smiles.

                                     BOB
                         Later, Martin.

               Bob backpedals down the hallway and out of sight. Martin 
               watches him stumble out of the hallway and bang through the 
               doors of a stairwell, disappearing.

               INT. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

               Bob slams through the doors and begins to stumble down the 
               stairs. He encounters Debi, on her way up. He glances at her 
               but does not break stride. Debi gives him wide berth, and 
               quickens her pace up the stairs...

               INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

               Martin watches the doors swing to a stop. He exhales and 
               relaxes... AND THEN Spin-pivots on his right heel, as a BURST 
               from a silenced pistol pierces the space where his head was 
               a split-second before/ As he spins around, his right hand 
               withdraws Ken's give-away pen from his kerchief pocket, pops 
               the cap off, and drive the pen up and through the throat of 
               his attacker--

               FELIX

               impaled through the throat on the pen, his head snapped back.

               MARTIN AND FELIX

               are frozen for a moment. Blood runs quickly down the front 
               of Felix's body, off of his shoes, and on to the floor. The 
               stairwell doors band open. Martin's head turns toward the 
               sound. His eyes lock onto

               DEBI

               who is frozen, horrified for a moment. She flees.

               MARTIN

               looks back at

               FELIX

               Dead.

               THE FLOOR

               A growing pool of blood.

               MARTIN

               Looks around wildly, holding Felix up against the lockers. 
               Above the lockers is a plastic banner proclaiming

                     "SPANISH CLUB FIESTA FUN-RAISER SATURDAY JUNE 1"

               MARTIN

               rips it down from the wall with his free hand, wraps it around 
               Felix, stuffs the body into his open locker, and slams it 
               shut. He pulls off his shoes and socks, puts a sock over 
               each hand like mittens, and wipes up the small pool of blood. 
               He stuffs the socks into his pockets, takes off down the 
               hall, and bangs through the doors.

               INT. GYM - GRANDSTANDS - MOMENTS LATER

               Martin blasts through the upstairs doors to the grandstands 
               looking for Debi below. She is nowhere to be found. He scans 
               the party in progress-- It is the same frame of image as the 
               one in Oatman's office. In the middle of the floor, Terry 
               slowly turns up to meet Martin's eyes.

               MARTIN

               pulls the doors shut, and takes off down the hall.

               INT. HALLWAY - MINUTES LATER

               Martin opens his locker, withdraws the corpse, and hefts it 
               over his shoulder.

               INT. STAIRWELL - A MINUTE LATER

               Brick-walled, darkly lit, and narrow. Martin bounds down the 
               steep steps with his load.

               INT. BASEMENT LOCKER ROOM HALLWAY - MINUTE LATER

               Martin hustles toward a cage door in front of him. He kicks 
               through it and dumps Felix into a canvas laundry cart on 
               casters and begins rolling.

               INT. PUMP AND FURNACE ROOM - A MINUTE LATER

               The door bangs open and light pours into the room from behind 
               Martin. He negotiates the cart over the dirt floor and stops 
               next to the furnace that heats the swimming pool. He pauses 
               and looks to the ceiling: the music from the reunion pulses 
               into the floor above him. Martin picks up a large metal bar 
               and works open the door on the hulking cast-iron furnace. A 
               white-hot blaze roars within.

               INT. GYM - NIGHT

               The party is winding down. A harried-looking Martin walks in 
               and looks around once more for Debi-- nothing.

               MARTIN'S POV

               of the Deejay booth. It is empty.

               He moves over to the bar and joins Ken Aldridge. He motions 
               to the bartender who opens a beer for him.

                                     MARTIN
                         Have you seen Debi Newberry?

                                     KEN
                         Nope.

               They both look around at the last of the reunion.

                                     KEN
                         The more things change, the more 
                         they Goddamned well stay the same.

                                     MARTIN
                         I guess.

               Before Ken can get started again...

                                     MARTIN
                         Take care of yourself, Ken. Thanks 
                         for the pen.

               Martin walks out of the gym.

               EXT. HIGH SCHOOL PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

               Paul is leaning against his Beemer, having a smoke.

                                     PAUL
                         What the hell happened to you?

                                     MARTIN
                         I was catching up with Bob Destephano.

                                     PAUL
                         As long as you had a good time.

               Beat. Martin scans the lot for sign of Debi.

                                     PAUL
                         What now? Chase the girl?

               There is a beat of silence. Nothing seems worth saying.

                                     MARTIN
                         It didn't work out.

                                     PAUL
                         That's too bad.

                                     MARTIN
                         I have to get my head back into my 
                         work.

                                     PAUL
                         Work's good for the soul.

               Martin gets up to leave.

                                     MARTIN
                         When you see Debi, tell her I'm sorry.

                                     PAUL
                         See you in ten years.

               Paul watches him leave. He almost stops him, but thinks better 
               of it.

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - NIGHT

               Martin hunches over his briefcase that lays open on the bed.

               MARTIN PULLS

               THE DOSSIER from the briefcase. It's seal is broken, but the 
               contents remain enclosed... He withdraws the package and 
               dumps the contents on the bed. His face registers muted shock.

                                     MARTIN
                         Dumb fucking luck...

               THE CONTENTS

               include various photos of MR. NEWBERRY, Mr. Newberry with 
               Debi, and the house. The photos are mingled with official-
               looking papers including credit reports, medical records, 
               etc... Newberry's life.

               He cocks his head toward the door anticipating a... KNOCK. 
               He freezes, then plucks a gun tapped under a desk, and moves 
               toward the door, pointing. Halfway to the door, his face and 
               body slacken. He lobs the gun onto the bed. With everything 
               gone wrong, there is nothing left to defend. He goes to the 
               door and opens it, body relaxed, expecting a bullet...

               Debi moves past him into the room. She is completely calm.

                                     DEBI
                         He was trying to kill you, right!

                                     MARTIN
                         Yes.

                                     DEBI
                         Not the other way around...?

                                     MARTIN
                         No.

                                     DEBI
                         Is it something you've done?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's something I do...

               Beat.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...Professionally...

               Beat.

                                     MARTIN
                         ...About five years now.

                                     DEBI
                              (stunned)
                         Get the fuck outta here.

                                     MARTIN
                         Seriously, when I left, I joined the 
                         Army and took the service exam. They 
                         found my psych results fit a certain 
                         profile. A certain "Moral flexibility" 
                         would be the best way to describe 
                         it... I was loaned out to a CIA-
                         sponsored program. It's called 
                         "mechanical operations." We sort of 
                         found each other...

                                     DEBI
                         You're a government spook?

               Martin says nothing.

                                     MARTIN
                         I was, but no... yes... I was before, 
                         but now I'm not. It's irrelevant, 
                         really. The idea of governments, 
                         nations, it's mostly a public 
                         relations theory at this point, 
                         anyway. But I'll tell you something, 
                         until about five months ago, I really 
                         enjoyed my work.

                                     DEBI
                         Jesus Christ!

                                     MARTIN
                         Then I started losing my taste for 
                         it. Which usually means your time is 
                         up. But then I realized it was 
                         something entirely different... I 
                         started getting the sneaking, dark 
                         suspicion that maybe there was... 
                         meaning to life.

                                     DEBI
                         Okay. Great, Martin, that's just 
                         great. Meaning to life... Mmm....

                                     MARTIN
                         Like, that there's a point? An organic 
                         connection between all living things.

                                     DEBI
                         Let me help you along, Martin. You're 
                         a sociopath!

                                     MARTIN
                              (defensive)
                         A sociopath kills for no reason. I 
                         kill for money.

                                     DEBI
                         You never could have kept this from 
                         me.

                                     MARTIN
                         I was leaving.

                                     DEBI
                         That's probably a good idea.

                                     MARTIN
                         Will you come with me?

                                     DEBI
                         I'm staying here.

                                     MARTIN
                         What if I come back?

                                     DEBI
                         I'll hide.

               She goes for the door.

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't go.

               She stops at the door. Slowly, she turns.

                                     DEBI
                         You don't get to have me. You are a 
                         monster, I'm a human being. We're 
                         not going to mate.

                                     MARTIN
                         You don't understand...

                                     DEBI
                         That's because I speak human, and 
                         you speak monster.

               Debi bolts out of the room. Martin is left alone.

               Martin looks over at his gear on the bed. After a beat, he 
               walks slowly over and surveys his tools. He picks up a 
               cleaning rag and begins to go over the weapons, absently 
               singing to himself...

                                     MARTIN
                         "What's up Doc? What's cookin'? What's 
                         up Doc, are you lookin'...?

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - DAWN

               Morning light comes through the slit in the curtains, picking 
               up four or five exquisitely clean guns are laid out on the 
               bed, almost geometrically spaced. Martin lifts one at a time, 
               checking their bores and actions...

               INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - MORNING

               Lardner and McCullers gear up. They each finish loading the 
               last of many clips...

               EXT. MICHIGAN HIGHWAY - MORNING

               Grocer and Company, not in a Ford Passenger Van, veer off 
               onto an exit ramp. Grocer has assembled a team of about nine. 
               They draw different guns from their kit bags and begin 
               loading...

               INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - SAME

               Lardner and McCullers jam clips into their service autos and 
               knock the slides...

               INT. MARTIN'S SUITE - SAME

               Martin finished loading his guns, and puts them in his case. 
               He shuts it and moves for the door. On the way out he stops 
               and looks himself in the mirror before exiting.

               EXT. THREE DIFFERENT ROADS - INTERCUT

               Each car whooshes by camera, on its way to the inevitable...

               INT. EASTWEST HOLDING COMPANY - INTERCUT

               Marcella has a cordless tucked between her shoulder and ear, 
               and holds a two-gallon gas can. She moves from room to room 
               pouring gasoline onto the computers, desks, and piles of 
               paper stacked on the floor. She adds a splash to her copy of 
               "Women Who Run With the Wolves."

                                     MARCELLA
                         I'm bringing down the office now.

               She picks up her hard drive and smashes it on the floor. 
               It's cathartic.

               INTERCUT WITH MARTIN IN THE TOWN CAR -

                                     MARTIN
                         I'll put things right. Then I'll 
                         find you.

               Silence on the line.

                                     MARCELLA
                              (apprehensive)
                         Uh... why?

               Martin finishes his weapons check, and pulls out the dossier.

                                     MARTIN
                         Don't worry. I left you a little 
                         something under your desk.

               Martin hangs up.

               Marcella goes to it and pulls loose from underneath a shrink-
               wrapped brick of $100 bills, probably a $100,000 or so.

                                     MARCELLA
                         All right!!

               INT. MARTIN'S TOWN CAR

               Martin makes his way down the road to the Newberry's. In the 
               distance, he sees a lone figure jogging on the shoulder, 
               away from him.

               INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME

               Grocer and Company are parked off to the side, watching 
               Newberry, in the distance, jog toward them. A SNIPER prepares 
               to blow Newberry's head off.

               INT. MARTIN'S TOWN CAR - SAME

               As he approaches the figure, he recognizes it as Newberry, 
               he accelerates.

               INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME

               Grocer spots Martin's car speeding at Newberry.

                                     GROCER
                         Oh shit...

               EXT. ROAD - SAME

               Newberry stops jogging and turns to face the Town Car bearing 
               down on him. His face goes slack, expecting to be creamed.

               INT. TOWN CAR - SAME

               Martin roars straight at Newberry, his engine shrieking. As 
               the distance between them turns from yards to feet... Martin 
               swerves hard, just missing Newberry and comes to a halt next 
               to him, blocking the Sniper's line of fire. After a moment, 
               Newberry opens the passenger door.

                                     NEWBERRY
                         What the fuck is the matter with 
                         you?!

                                     MARTIN
                         Well, I was hired to kill you. It's 
                         what I do, and come to think of it, 
                         I told you that, but... Okay. I'm 
                         not going to do it. Get in the car.

               He does. They drive on.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's either because I'm in love with 
                         your daughter, or because I have a 
                         new-found respect for life. Or both. 
                         But I don't know.

               INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME

               Grocer and company watch in amazement.

               GROCER'S P.O.V.

               of Martin's car disappearing into Newberry's long and wooded 
               driveway.

                                     GROCER
                         That punk is either in love with 
                         that guy's daughter or he has new 
                         found respect for life... Let's go.

               EXT. NEWBERRY HOUSE - SAME

               Martin pulls up in front and stops. Both men scramble out 
               and head toward the front door at a quick clip. Newberry is 
               shaken; Martin seems at ease, at home in his element.

                                     NEWBERRY
                         Why? I build cars! They're paying 
                         you to kill me? Why?

                                     MARTIN
                         It was a cost-cutting effort. They 
                         can't afford a recall.

                                     NEWBERRY
                         It was a leaky sunroof! A design 
                         flaw! I reported a leaky sunroof! 
                         You want to kill me because of that?

                                     MARTIN
                         It's not me! Why does everybody think 
                         it's personal?!

               They go through the front door and shut it behind them.

               INT. GROCER'S VAN - SAME

               Grocer drops the van into gear and heads toward the driveway.

               INT. COUNTRY SQUIRE - SAME

               Lardner and McCullers approach the scene. They get within 
               viewing distance in time to see Grocer's Town Car turn into 
               the driveway.

                                     LARDNER
                         We'll go in through the woods.

               INT. NEWBERRY HOUSE

               Martin's briefcase is open on the large oak table. The 
               contents of the dossier are spilled out onto the table. 
               Newberry and Debi watch him, dumbstruck, as he draws a huge 
               Desert Eagle automatic and jerks back the slide. He turns to 
               Debi.

                                     MARTIN
                         I was sitting in my house on prom 
                         night wearing that Goddamned rented 
                         tuxedo, a corsage in one hand, a 
                         bottle of champagne in the other. So 
                         I was just sitting there, and then 
                         the whole night flashed before my 
                         eyes, and it struck me like a bullet 
                         in the head-- I realized, finally, 
                         and for the first time, that... I 
                         wanted to kill somebody. So I figured 
                         because I loved you so much, that'd 
                         it'd be a good idea if I didn't see 
                         you anymore. But now I'm different.

               He turns and points the gun at the front door and FIRES two 
               shots through it, leaving two baseball-size holes in the 
               door.

               Martin bolts out of the room toward the back of the house. 
               Debi and Newberry run as fast as they can away from Martin. 
               Newberry opens the front door, preparing to rush out with 
               Debi. They stop at what they see:

               NEWBERRY'S & DEBI'S P.O.V.

               As ASSASSIN lies on the porch, shot dead through the door by 
               Martin. IN one hand is a gun, in the other is a Fuller Brush 
               kit. Two men, GROCER and an ASSASSIN, clamber out of van, 
               their guns rising up fast toward us.

               Debi pulls Newberry inside, slams the front door, and locks 
               it. They dive away just before ten rounds hit the door from 
               outside.

               INT. KITCHEN - SAME

               Martin rushes toward the back door which is already opening. 
               A barrel comes through and FIRES at Martin. Martin pulls 
               back behind the refrigerator and returns FIRE. An ASSASSIN 
               comes through the door in a crouch and takes cover behind 
               the cooking island. Martin, yelling back to Debi...

                                     MARTIN
                         I'm in love with you. I know we can 
                         make this work!

               MARTIN

               rushes toward the island, grabbing an iron skillet off the 
               range, and holds it up like a crossing-guard stop sign. He 
               steps toward the hidden Assassin just as the Assassin rises 
               SHOOTING. The skillet takes two rounds before Martin hammers 
               the Assassin's head with it. Debi and Newberry arrive in the 
               kitchen.

               NEW ANGLE - LOW DUTCH

               Martin bashes the skillet into the Assassin's skull, which 
               is beyond our view. He rises spattered with blood and looks 
               at Debi.

                                     MARTIN
                         I was afraid to commit to a 
                         relationship, but now I know I'm 
                         ready to make it happen.

               Martin drops the skillet and grabs Newberry and Debi gently 
               be the wrists.

                                     MARTIN
                         I just need time to change.

               He ushers them past the bludgeoned corpse and up the back 
               stairs. He spins and FIRES twice back down the stairs at 
               another ASSASSIN coming up, blowing his arms off.

               HALLWAY

               He leads them quickly.

                                     MARTIN
                         It's not easy for me. I was raised 
                         to close off, to control my 
                         feelings...

               He takes them into a bedroom, and BLOWS AWAY, an ASSASSIN 
               coming in through the window, emptying his auto. Martin pushes 
               Debi and Newberry into an adjoining bathroom. He backs out 
               through the doorway.

                                     MARTIN
                         Lock the door.

               They do. Martin starts away, but stops to get something 
               straight.

                                     MARTIN
                         I wasn't raised in a loving 
                         environment.
                              (beat)
                         But that's not an excuse. It's a 
                         reason.

               INT. FOYER

               Martin corners the banister and springs half-way down the 
               stairs, then hears the front door begin to open.

                                     MARTIN
                         My soul was empty--

               Martin jams in another clip, and chambers a round. He sees 
               Grocer beginning to slip in.

                                     MARTIN
                         --and it's up to me to fill it.

               Martin FIRES the twelve-round clip into the door until the 
               slide locks back empty again. Grocer backs out fast. Martin 
               hears a gun REPORT from upstairs and moves back toward it, 
               tossing the spent weapon.

               INT. BEDROOM

               An ASSASSIN slams his body against the bathroom door while 
               Debi and Newberry scream from within. Martin flies at him. 
               The Assassin wheels on Martin FIRING. Martin pivots out of 
               the line of fire, still moving forward. He takes hold of 
               Assassin's neck and snaps it. Martin drops the corpse.

                                     MARTIN
                              (through the door)
                         It's okay. It's Martin The door begins 
                         to open revealing Debi and Newberry.

                                     MARTIN
                         I know what I do isn't moral, per 
                         se, but if you could just look past 
                         that, you'd see a man worth loving.

                                     GROCER (O.S.)
                         Don't listen to him, he's a 
                         professional.

               Martin stops short and cocks his head toward Grocer's muffled 
               voice coming from the vent. Grocer continues...

                                     GROCER (O.S.)
                         You're breaking my heart down here, 
                         Blank. I can't shoot through the 
                         tears.

               Martin, incensed, bends down and takes the gun from the dead 
               man. He runs out of the bedroom, gun poised for a kamikaze 
               firefight...

               EXT. NEWBERRY HOUSE - SAME

               Lardner and McCullers are poised outside the front door, 
               about to enter the mix. McCullers peers through the window.

                                     LARDNER
                         Did you see Blank in there?

                                     MCCULLERS
                         No...

                                     LARDNER
                         Good. For a second there I thought 
                         we were in trouble.

               INT. NEWBERRY FOYER - CONTINUOUS

               MARTIN

               reaches the top of the front stairs to find Grocer heading 
               up the stairs at him. They lift their guns at each other to 
               FIRE, when they hear...

               LARDNER AND MCCULLERS

               power through the front door, guns BLAZING at floor-level, 
               ala Butch and Sundance.

               Martin and Grocer, above, spin on them instinctively, and 
               FIRE, killing them. Grocer dives off of the stairs and rolls 
               out of view.

               KITCHEN - INTERCUT

               GROCER

               heads up the back stairs.

               MARTIN

               works his way toward Grocer, moving with stealth toward the 
               kitchen.

               GROCER

               hears him and starts back down.

               Martin dives behind the cooking island just as Grocer comes 
               out of the stairwell blasting. They unload at each other as 
               Grocer runs a pattern across the kitchen, FIRING at Martin, 
               crouched, who BLASTS back. Grocer vaults himself through the 
               air toward a serving window from the kitchen to the dining 
               room, still firing.

               C.U. - MARTIN'S GUN - SLOW MOTION

               The last casing floats out of the chamber into the air, and 
               the slide on the auto locks back-- empty.

               NORMAL SPEED

               GROCER

               Flying through the air disappearing through the shuttered 
               serving window, his flight carrying him past a television 
               that sits on a lazy susan.

               MARTIN AND GROCER - INTERCUT

               Martin and Grocer sit on the floor, backs up against opposite 
               side of the counter-- Martin in the kitchen and Grocer in 
               the dining room. The hulking old television sits on the 
               counter above and between them.

               Martin looks up and spies the TELEVISION

                                     GROCER
                         ...How about I sell you two rounds 
                         for a hundred grand a piece?

                                     MARTIN
                         Okay.

               Martin takes out a checkbook, and tears one free. He wads it 
               into a loose ball and tosses it over the counter.

               BALLED CHECK

               sails over the television and comes down, bouncing off 
               Grocer's head and into his lap.

                                     MARTIN
                         There you go. I left it blank.

                                     GROCER
                         Excellent. Here they come.

               Grocer pulls two rounds from the clip of his semi-automatic 
               and pushes the clip back into the gun. Grocer arcs the TWO 
               BULLETS into the air.

               MARTIN

               rises and springs at the television, gripping it. The TWO 
               BULLETS sail past his head.

               GROCER

               begins to rise from his side of the counter, cocking his 
               gun.

               MARTIN

               puts all his weight and motion behind the television. Martin 
               and the television careen off of the counter toward Grocer.

               GROCER

               gets off one round before

               MARTIN

               flies onto Grocer, smashing the seventy-five pound television 
               over his Goddamn head. Martin sails past the collision, 
               landing on his back in the dining room. He rolls over to see

               GROCER

               Body crumpled, neck is snapped, head encased in the shattered 
               picture tube. He is dead.

               MARTIN

               runs up the front stairs, retrieving the spent gun he 
               discarded earlier, and heads into the bedroom.

               INT. BEDROOM - MINUTES LATER

               Martin opens the bathroom door. Inside, Debi sits on the 
               edge of the tub, her face in her hands. Newberry kneels with 
               his arms around her. Martin takes this in, and walks back 
               into the bedroom. Newberry stands and follows him out.

               MARTIN AND NEWBERRY

               MARTIN a bloody, tattered mess, wipes off the gun and puts 
               it into Newberry's hand. Newberry, in total shock, grips it. 
               Martin looks past Newberry.

               MARTIN'S P.O.V.

               Of Debi, head in hands.

                                     MARTIN (V.O.)
                         Debi... will you marry me?

               Debi doesn't look up. After a moment, she reaches out, head 
               still down, and closes the bathroom door...

               INT. RADIO STATION - DAY

               Outside is a Michigan autumn. Debi sits at her console, 
               bringing in the mike as she fades out of a tune...

                                     DEBI
                         This is WRFN Radio Free Newberry 
                         cause that's what it does. Bringing 
                         you New Ones for the Nineties, a 
                         fresh new format designed to pull 
                         you out of what's come before, and 
                         reel you into what's coming soon--

               THE PHONE CONSOLE

               lights up with an incoming cal...

                                     DEBI
                         I tell you what's coming soon for 
                         me, or at least what I dreamed this 
                         morning in that weird time just before 
                         you actually wake up. But first this 
                         commercial. Back after this...

               She pushes a couple of buttons, slaps a cartridge in a player, 
               and answers the phone. We hear the commercial over the studio 
               monitor:

                                     ANNOUNCER
                         Don't miss the show of the season at 
                         Bilkin Community Center! "Brigadoon!" 
                         A musical for all ages! "Brigadoon," 
                         starring Carol Plummer, Thomas 
                         Canchola, Bob Destephano, and Lee 
                         Ordman!...

               Debi picks up the phone.

                                     DEBI
                         RFN...

               Her face goes slack as she listens... not good, not bad... 
               Then she hangs up slowly. The commercial ends. A moment of 
               dead air, then she snaps to.

                                     DEBI
                         Hey out there... Okay... I'm going 
                         to finish up that fantasy later. 
                         First I'll give you an hour of nonstop 
                         music... If I don't come back on 
                         after that-- well, nevermind.

               Debi turns on a reel-to-reel, and leaves.

               EXT. FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT HOUSE - DAY

               Debi pulls up and gets out. She begins toward the door but 
               stops dead when she sees

               MARTIN

               sitting on the front steps.

               Debi moves slowly up the walk and sits next to him on the 
               porch. They sit, gazing out over the grass and trees beyond. 
               After a while...

                                     DEBI
                         This will never work out.

               She turns to him, serious.

                                     DEBI
                         You kill people.
                              (beat)

                                     MARTIN
                         I have no illusions about the future. 
                         What is, is. We make choices. And we 
                         become the sum total of our choices. 
                         I can live with that.

                                     DEBI
                         Other people can't.

               Martin looks at her earnestly... And smiles ever so slightly. 
               She does the same, and then just a little wider. He the same. 
               They turn back out to face the lawn, and they share a laugh...

                                                                    THE END