EXT. MARINA - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT
TV TALK SHOW blares as the bus lumbers into a MARINA PARKING
LOT. TRUCK OUT revealing the picture is one of a number of
SECURITY MONITORS in the MARINA OFFICE. JASON, the OWNER,
sits at a desk eating potato chips and drinking beer as he
watches the TV. Intercut Hal parking his bus and trying to
sneak past, the TV show and Jason being a slob.
HOST
...but Mr. Vice President, isn't the
ballistic missile threat limited?
Shouldn't spending be tied to threat?
VICE PRESIDENT
We're a nation at war, Mike. Only an
international missile defense system can
protect us against terrorists and rogue
states.
HOST
But isn't this just feeding hard-earned
tax dollars into questionable programs
that enrich the industrial-military
complex and politicians connected to
them?
The boardwalk CREAKS.
VICE PRESIDENT
Conspiracy theories. Fiction created by
lunatics that hate America; hate our
freedoms and our way of life. This admin
Jason mutes the TV with a remote as Hal tries to sneak past.
JASON - O.S.
Going somewhere?
HAL
Oh, hi Jason, didn't see ya.
JASON
Ya, sure. Cough it up.
Hal checks his pockets, pulls out his partially eaten hoagie
sandwich, hesitatingly offering it.
JASON (CONT'D)
Moorage is due first of the month.
HAL
Look dude, I was supposed to get paid
tonight but shit happened. I'll have it
by the weekend. Promise.
JASON
I don't like you Lighter, or that piece
of crap you call a boat. This is it. No
more bull shit. Pay up or I'll have it
towed and sold for scrap.
EXT. MARINA BOARDWALK - NIGHT
Hal rips into the hoagie as he storms down the boardwalk
lined with expensive boats. Yuppie couples lounge on their
decks, sipping cocktails and enjoying the FULL MOON.
HAL
Ana-Bell for scrap? Asshole.
He rounds a corner, arriving at his DILAPIDATED BOAT. A
black, partly chopped NORTON COMMANDO MOTORCYCLE sits on deck
surrounded by empty beer cans, magazines and other junk. The
boat is 6 inches lower than expected, causing him to trip
coming aboard. Collecting himself, he tears up a handmade
sign reading GARBAGE SCOW someone's taped to the door.
Below deck is even more of a wreck. Retro 70's memorabilia
abounds, topped with a vintage 60's Silvertone Amp-In-Case
guitar hanging from the ceiling. But the foot of water he
finds himself SLOSHING in detracts from all else.
Yanking a handful of darts from a dartboard, he drops into a
chair to dial his cell phone. As a groggy voice answers, Hal
closes one eye, taking careful aim.
FAVOURING
The DART BOARD with a PICTURE of a whale of a woman
dominating a skinny, nerd-ish little man taped to it.
JASON - O.S.
Marina.
HAL
Jason, dude. I got, like, a major
emergency. I gotta get into dry dock.
JASON - O.S.
It's 2:30 in the morning!
HAL
It's an emergency dude!
JASON
Until you're paid, in full, plus an
advance, forget it. Ya know, I should do
us both a favor and have that piece of
shit towed before it plugs up my berth...
He tosses the dart, hitting the woman between the eyes, then
frantically stabs at the phone. It pops out of his hand,
landing with a SPLASH. When he fishes it out, it's dead. He
looks "up" as he talks.
HAL
Somebody tryin to tell me somethin?
EXT. LOW EARTH ORBIT
A US Space Shuttle is in the final stages of deploying a
satellite.
ANGLE ON SDI BASE, FORT GREELY, ALASKA/CONTINUOUS TIME
The SECRETARY OF DEFENSE, some MILITARY BRASS and a few
CIVILIAN REPORTERS mill around the control room chatting over
tea and cookies.
CONTROLLER
Major Armstrong? We're good to go sir.
MAJOR ARMSTRONG
Excellent. Release the rabbit.
(to civvies)
Kindly keep your eyes on the monitors
ladies and gentlemen. More tea anyone?
ANGLE ON MONITOR
as the doors of a MISSILE SILO open. With a ROAR a US ICBM
jumps from the hole.
ANGLE ON SATELLITES
beeping and turning into position as the missile leaves
Earth's atmosphere.
CONTROLLER - O.S.
Satellites tracking for intercept.
As the missile comes within range, the satellites focus the
ENERGY FROM THE SUN into HIGH INTENSITY LASERS striking the
missile. As the intensity increases, the missile glows
brightly until it's gone in
A HUGE NUCLEAR EXPLOSION!
FADE TO AND FROM WHITE
ANGLE ON CONTINUED REVERBERATIONS
ripping a brilliant hole through TIME-SPACE. Far beyond the
consciousness of Earthlings, the explosion sends cascading
shock waves tearing the HIGHER ENERGY CONSCIOUSNESS apart. As
they reform, they communicate via flashings of color,
appearing as multicolored mists of translucent, sparkling
beauty and heard as music.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 5
Every time they split an atom the rend in
time-space grows, endangering harmony.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 4
It's time to admit them lost for good.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 3
But that would mean annihilation.
As the ripples subside, the "waves" coalesce into singular
entities and the scene fills with delicate hues. The very air
comes alive with music and color, suffused with light and
harmony. Movements produce harmonies of color and sound in a
lovely series of ever-changing chords. The sound of
INDESCRIBABLY BEAUTIFUL MUSIC, more a combination of
vibrations, fills the air.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 5
If that is their destiny.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 3
Just a bit more help...
A small center of consciousness, floating as a sparkling &
translucent multicolored cloud, chimes in.
SMALL CONSCIOUSNESS
Why?
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 2
There is an overcrowding of consciousness
needing to return to finish their
evolution. If they do not, harmony cannot
be kept in balance.
COSMIC COUNCIL - WAVE 1
And balance must be maintained. But to
maintain balance...
The COSMIC COUNCIL settles into a group of singular entities -
BEINGS OF LIGHT emanating feelings of enormous compassion
that move in and out of SOFT FOCUS.
COSMIC COUNCIL
...thought must be affected and that can
only be done in the realm of the
manifest.
SMALL CONSCIOUSNESS
How?
COSMIC COUNCIL
Through the structure of its Strange
Attractor.
SMALL CONSCIOUSNESS
But what is that?
COSMIC COUNCIL
It is you.
DISSOLVE TO:
STUNNED REPORTERS
The brass applauds wildly as Armstrong approaches the podium.
MAJOR ARMSTRONG
Ladies and gentlemen, the Secretary of
Defense, Mr. John Hanover.
He approaches to polite applause.
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
Thank-you. We've all just witnessed a
truly historic event. This was the first
successful test of our Missile Defense
initiative, known to some as Star Wars.
It's the basis for our power projection
not only around the world, but into the
vastness of space, ushering in a new
world order on a cosmic scale.
Polite applause. The Secretary points to one of the reporters
with his hand up.
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE (CONT'D)
Questions? Yes?
REPORTER 1
Was that a live ICBM?
The question takes him aback.
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
On or off the record?
Polite chuckles.
REPORTER 1
Both?
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
Ahem, you've just witnessed the
successful deployment of a multi-billion
dollar program for directed-energy
weapons to intercept missile threats to
America's homeland. Next question?
The Secretary points to a different reporter, but the
original persists.
REPORTER 1
Aren't you concerned about the effects of
fall-out you just released?
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
Someone else? Questions? Yes?
REPORTER 1
Isn't this really the beginning of a new
arms race in space?
The Secretary is angry.
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE
We've taken the high ground and now
dominate all use of space. Forever.
Period. Now, if you'll excuse me.
On his way out he snaps at an aide.
SECRETARY OF DEFENSE (CONT'D)
You were supposed to clear them. Get his
notes and make sure he never files
another report as long as he lives.
INT. HAL'S BOAT - MORNING
Six darts stick in the picture on the dartboard, the woman's
head to be precise. Hal snores loudly in the chair, beer in
hand and feet on a table. BANGING wakens him. Unconsciously
he drops his feet straight into the icy water.
HAL
Eaaaaahhhh fuck!
MARION - O.S.
Hal? You in there?
EXT. HAL'S BOAT
Hal pushes the door open and sloshes on deck, shaking the
water from his feet and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
HAL
Yawn, you were going to phone...
MARION
You didn't answer.
He remembers his dead cell phone as Marion, totally disgusted
by the mess, comes aboard.
HAL
Yeah.
MARION
Ooh. So gonna help a gal out?
HAL
Look Marion, I can't right now, I...
She plants herself on deck, arms crossed in defiance.
MARION
Fine. I'm stayin put til you say yes.
He sighs, pulls a beer can from a cooler, cracks it and takes
a long draw. His eyes pop open as he spits out the beer.
HAL
Shit!
WHAT HE SEES
Jason points a TOW-TUG in his direction.
MARION - O.S.
It's not working...
ANGLE ON HAL
frantically unplugging and untying the boat.
HAL
I'd get ashore if I was you.
MARION - O.S.
Not until you say yes.
He tosses a towrope at Marion before jumping on the control
deck and starting the engines.
HAL
Have it your way.
MARION
Hey? Wait. Where you going?
THE TUG
rounds the corner to his now-empty berth.
HAL - O.S.
The hell outa here.
EXT. MARINA/CONTINUOUS TIME
He slips out of the marina and into the busy boat traffic.
Out of harms way, he settles back to roll a joint between
guzzles of beer.
MARION
Like, where are you taking me?
HAL
You wanted some puff, right?
MARION
Yeah, but I can wait at home. I've got,
like, important stuff to do.
HAL
Suit yourself, but you're gonna have to
swim. No public docks for miles and I
ain't goin back there till it's safe.
Marion stares toward the shore. She talks to herself as she
struggles with the moment.
MARION
(quietly)
No. I can't.
HAL
What?
MARION
I said this is bullshit!
Hal cracks open his Zippo and lights up.
HAL
Chill dude. It's a beautiful day. Sides,
you look like you could do with a bit of
an altitude adjustment.
He tries to pass the joint, but she refuses.
MARION
That shit just puts me to sleep. I'll
take a beer though.
He tosses her a cool one, puts his feet up and captains into
the strait.
HAL
What do ya want a pound for then?
MARION
I don't want to go into it right now.
She cracks the beer and, much to Hal's amazement, tosses most
of it back in one go.
HAL
Dude...
MARION
BURP, another?
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