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           A WALK TO REMEMBER                            Screenplay by                            Karen Janszen                     Based on the novelby                        Nicholas Sparks       No portion of this script may be performed, reproduced,       or used by any means, or quoted or published in any       medium without the prior written consent of WarnerBros.                                             July 27, 2000WARNER BROS.                                 © 20004000 Warner Boulevard                        WARNER BROS.Burbank, California 91522                    All RightsReservedBLACKA young man's V.O.:                         ADULT LANDON (V.O.)           I was born in Beaufort, North           Carolina. A place where the air           always smells of pine andsalt and           sea.The voice is gentle. Slightly Southern in inflection.   Ayoung doctor's soothing manner.FADE IN:EXT. COASTAL NORTH CAROLINA (DECEMBER) (PRESENT)A vast view of thecoastline in winter -- beaches, rivers,sea marshes, inlets -- ebbing and flowing.                         ADULT LANDON (V.O.)           For many, days and nights are           spent fishing Pamlico Soundor           crabbing the Neuse River.The CAMERA FINDS a small coastal town, edged by a harboron which fishermen toil.EXT. BEAUFORT, NORTH CAROLINA - MORNING (DECEMBER)The CAMERA, MOVINGinland, CROSSES OVER modest housesdecked with plastic rooftop Santas...                         ADULT LANDON (V.O.)           While the ocean may be the focus           of daily labor, churches have           alwaystried to be the focus of           life.And MOVES UPHILL TO...EXT. MAIN STREETWhere fake snow is sprayed on store windows. The CAMERACONTINUES TO the far side of Main Street -- with itsstately homeswith big lawns, flower beds, and tastefulChristmas garlands.                         ADULT LANDON (V.O.)           When I lived here, there were           eighteen churches within town           limitsalone.                                                       2.EXT. FOUR-WAY STOPFrom each corner, four churches face each other. TheFellowship Hall Christian Church, the Church of theForgivenPeople, the Church of Sunday Atonement, and AllSaints Church.                        ADULT LANDON (V.O.)          They sponsored pancake breakfasts,          rummage sales, car washes, and          softballgames.EXT. LANDON'S TRUCK - TRAVELINGThe CAMERA FINDS and FOLLOWS a newish sport utilityvehicle with MD plates as it passes a rummage sale and asoftball game.                        ADULT LANDON(V.O.)          You'd think that all the people          here were friendly, welcoming,          open-hearted...Dr. LANDON CARTER, 33, drives the truck.INT. CAR - TRAVELINGLandon looks urban, prosperous,well-groomed -- butretains his boyish whimsy and sense of irony. A cellphone and overnight bag on the seat next to him.                         ADULT LANDON (V.O.)          ... and that money orfamily          background or education or luck          didn't matter.Landon reaches out to adjust his side mirror, revealing asimple gold wedding band on his left hand.EXT. STREET - TRAVELINGLandon's truckturns the corner and slows in front of thehuge Southern Baptist church.                        ADULT LANDON (V.O.)          But they did matter. They          mattered to everyone. Except          JamieSullivan...Landon's truck turns into a driveway just past the churchand heads for a cluster of buildings. Behind thebuildings, a cemetery.                                                        3.EXT. CLUSTEROF BUILDINGS - CONTINUOUS ACTIONThe truck pulls up in front of the old parsonage -- it's adifferent color than he remembers.                        ADULT LANDON (V.O.)          ... Astronomer.Actress.          Believer in God...Landon hesitates a moment, then climbs out of his truck.EXT. OLD PARSONAGE - CONTINUOUS ACTIONLandon heads up the walk and onto the front porch.Presses theDOORBELL. It RINGS inside. Landon is edgy,unsettled.                        ADULT LANDON (V.O.)          ... Believer in me.A nurse opens the door.                                                DISSOLVETO:EXT. BEAUFORT HIGH GYM - NIGHT (NOVEMBER, 1985)ROCK MUSIC drifts out open doors -- barely recognizable as"Born in the U.S.A." Students hang. Brains, preps,richies, heavy metals, jocks,punk rockers, goths, geeks.Mixing without mixing. Most are red-eyed, woozy, wasted.A couple of boys break dance to a BOOM BOX.Missing are the criminals...A shiny T-top CAMARO ROARS up. Stops, TIRESSQUEALING.VAN HALEN BLASTING. LANDON, 18, at the wheel. He isimpulsive, sexy-troubled, with the nothing-to-lose courageto act on destructive whims. He is envied, copied,feared.INT. CAMAROEMPTIESroll and CLINK on the floor. A tiny plasticskeleton dances as it hangs from the rearview mirror.Landon stamps a joint into the ashtray.                        LANDON                 (impatient, edgy)          Where is he?He's supposed tobe          here.                                                (CONTINUED)                                                              4.CONTINUED:                           ERIC                    (from backseat)             I need to whizz.ERIC's skinny, high-energy.          A leg always jiggling.                             LANDON             Eric.    You're such a hummingbird.                              BELINDA             Iwanna dance.BELINDA is Landon's girlfriend. Richie princess, a bad-girl pretender. Big shoulder pads. Jellie bracelet.Swatch watch.                              LANDON             So godance.                              BELINDA             With you.                              LANDON             I.    Don't.   Dance.                           ERIC                    (pointing,like                     Tattoo)             Dee plane. Dee plane.They laugh.       Clay's by the dumpster.EXT. DUMPSTERCLAY, obese, wearing a too-small student monitor vest, isdumping garbage from a trash can. Aloud HONK. Clayturns to see the Camaro, then turns back to the school,coast clear. He quickly heaves in the empty trash can asthe Camaro pulls up.Eric pushes a door open.       Empties fall from the back seat.Clayclimbs in.                              CLAY             Go go go go.PRINCIPAL ED KELLY, middle-aged, pockmarked skin, Casiocalculator watch, exits the gym.INT. CAMAROLandon's looking at Kelly in therearview mirror.                                                      (CONTINUED)                                                          5.CONTINUED:                           LANDON                    (mocking)             Kelly. He looks like his face             caught fire and he tried to put it             out with a fork.Landon inches the car forward, teasing Clay, teasingKelly.                           ERIC             Hecouldn't find his own butt with             both hands at high noon in a hall             of mirrors.Sniggering laughter.                           CLAY             Go!Landon presses the gas.    The CAR ROARSaway.                           CLAY             Kelly's so old he --                           LANDON             We're done with that already,             bonehead.Clay smiles, good-natured.    He often misses socialcues.EXT. CAMARO - TRAVELINGLandon drops Clay's student monitor vest out onto theroad. Another car runs it over.EXT. ROADMr. Kelly walks over, picks up the vest. Shakes it.Frustrated. Eyes theempty beer bottles by the dumpster.EXT. OUTSIDE CEMETERY GATE - LITTLE LATERCamaro is parked on the dirt access road, headlightsshining through the locked rear gate. JOHN COUGARMELLENCAMP's"Small Town" playing.INT. CAMAROLandon, Clay, and Belinda sit drinking, smoking weed.Under the MUSIC, a CB RADIO scanner CHATSquietly.                                                  (CONTINUED)                                                         6.CONTINUED:                           ERIC (O.S.)             So which isit?EXT. CAMAROEric finishes taking a leak.                           ERIC                    (calling over,                     repeating)             Landon. To save your life, you             have to either go deaf or gonumb             in your dick and balls.Eric climbs back in the car.INT. CAMAROLandon, Belinda, Clay, Eric.                             LANDON             I'mthinking.                           ERIC             No thinking. The doctor only             gives you three seconds to             decide --                           LANDON             Could I lose one ear and onenut?                           ERIC             No questions, no negotiating --                            BELINDA                    (to Eric, annoyed)             Where do you get these stupid             questions --?                           LANDON             Hypotheticals --                           ERIC                    (to Belinda)             I'm just wondering --                             BELINDA             Don'twonder.Landon's looking out at thenight.                                                 (CONTINUED)                                                        7.CONTINUED:                           LANDON             Jamie Sullivan.Everyonelooks up.     Derisive laughter.THEIR POVA pale, contemplative GIRL, 17, is jumping down off thegate, caught in the headlights. Wearing clothes sheprobably made herself; long hair hiding her face. Shelives inher mind, not her body.BACK TO SCENE                            BELINDA             Brain.                            ERIC             Biblefreak.                            LANDON             Cherry.EXT. CAMAROJAMIE (GIRL), hearing the laughter, gathers herself andapproaches Landon's window, her SNEAKERS CRUNCHING in theGRAVEL. Shecrosses her pilly brown sweater across herchest.                           JAMIE                    (to Landon,                     tentative)             Hey. Hi. Your lights. Any             chance you could... turn them             off--                           BELINDA                    (leaning over                     Landon)             God give you this road?                            JAMIE             No--                           BELINDA             Then we'll be keeping the


<title>Usual Suspects, The Script at IMSDb.</title><meta name="description" content="Usual Suspects, The script at the Internet Movie Script Database."><meta name="keywords" content="UsualSuspects, The script, Usual Suspects, The movie script, Usual Suspects, The film script"><meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" /><meta name="HandheldFriendly"content="true"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"><meta http-equiv="Content-Language" content="EN"><meta name=objecttype CONTENT=Document><metaname=ROBOTS CONTENT="INDEX, FOLLOW"><meta name=Subject CONTENT="Movie scripts, Film scripts"><meta name=rating CONTENT=General><meta name=distribution content=Global><metaname=revisit-after CONTENT="2 days"><link href="/style.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css">

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<TITLE>The Usual Suspects</TITLE>
The Usual SuspectsWritten ByChristopher McQuarrieProduced and Directed By Bryan SingerRevised, 05/25/94 White
Revised, 06/01/94 Blue
Revised, 06/07/94 Pink
Revised, 06/11/94 Yellow
SCRIPT DATE5/25/941 -BLACK     The lonely sound of a buoy bell in the distance. Water     slapping against a smooth, flat surface in rhythm. The     creaking of wood.     Off in the very far distance, one can make outthe sound of     sirens.     SUDDENLY, a single match ignites and invades the darkness. It     quivers for a moment. A dimly lit hand brings the rest of the     pack to the match. A plume of yellow-white flame flaresand     illuminates the battered face of DEAN KEATON, age forty. His     salty-gray hair is wet and matted. His face drips with water     or sweat. A large cut runs the length of his face from the     corner of his eye to hischin. It bleeds freely. An un-lit     cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth.     In the half-light we can make out that he is on the deck of a     large boat. A yacht, perhaps, or a small freighter. He sits     with his backagainst the front bulkhead of the wheel house.     His legs are twisted at odd, almost impossible angles. He     looks down.     A thin trail of liquid runs past his feet and off into the     darkness. Keaton lights thecigarette on the burning pack of     matches before throwing them into the liquid.     The liquid IGNITES with a poof.     The flame runs up the stream, gaining in speed and intensity.     It begins to ripple and rumble asit runs down the deck     towards the stern.                                                       2     EXT. BOAT - NIGHT - STERN                                             2'     A stack of oil drums rests on the stern. They are stackedon     a palette with ropes at each corner that attach it to a huge     crane on the dock. One of the barrels has been punctured at     it's base. Gasoline trickles freely from the hole.     The flame is racing now towards thebarrels. Keaton smiles     weakly to himself.     The flame is within a few yards of the barrels when another     stream of liquid splashes onto the gas. The flame fizzles out     pitifully with a hiss.     Two feet straddle theflame. A stream of urine flows onto the     deck from between them.                                            BLUE 06/01/94                                                               2.The sound of a fly zipping. Follow thefeet as they move overto where Keaton rests at the wheel house.CRANE UP to the waist of the unknown man. He pulls a pack ofcigarettes out of one pocket and a strange antique lighterfrom the other. It is gold, with aclasp that folds down overthe flint. The man flicks up the clasp with his thumb andstrikes it with his index finger. It is a fluid motion,somewhat showy.Keaton looks up at the man. A look of realization crosses hisface. Itis followed by frustration, anger, and finallyresignation.                         VOICE (O.S.)           How are you, Keaton?                             KEATON           I'd have to say my spine wasbroken,           Keyser.He spits the name out like it was poison.The man puts the lighter back in his pocket and reaches underhis jacket. He produces a stainless .38 revolver.                         VOICE(O.S.)           Ready?                             KEATON           What time is it?The hand with the gun turns over, turning the gold watch onits wrist upward.The sound of sirens is closer now. Headed thisway.                         VOICE (O.S.)           Twelve thirty.Keaton grimaces bitterly and nods. He turns his head away andtakes another drag.The hand with the gun waits long enough for Keaton to enjoy  hislast drag before pulling the trigger.GUNSHOTThe sound of Keaton's body slumping onto the deck.                                          YELLOW06/11/94                                                             3.MOVE OUT ACROSS THE DECK. Below is the stream of gasolinestill flowing freely.The sound of the gasoline igniting. The flame runs in frontof ustowards the barrels, finally leaping up in a circlearound the drums, burning the wood of the pallet and lickingthe spouting stream as it pours from the hole.MOVE OUT ACROSS THE DOCK, away from the boat.The pier towhich the boat is moored is littered with DEADBODIES. Twenty or more men have been shot to pieces and liescattered everywhere in what can only be the aftermath of afierce fire-fight.A BARGE COMES INTOVIEW.                                             On the deck of the barge is a tangle of cables and girders.          The mesh of steel and rubber leaves a dark and open cocoon           beneath itsbase.                                                    MOVE INTO THE DARKNESS.Sirens are close now. Almost here. The sound of fire ragingout of control.SIRENS BLARING. TIRES SQUEALING. CAR DOORSOPENING. FEETPOUNDING THE PAVEMENT.MOVE FURTHER, SLOWER, INTO THE DARKNESSVoices yelling. New light flickering in the surroundingdarkness.SUDDENLY, ANEXPLOSION.Then silence. TOTAL BLACKNESS.We hear the voice of ROGER "VERBAL" KINT, whom we will soonmeet.                         VERBAL (V.O.)           New York. - six weeks ago. A truckloaded           with stripped gun parts got jacked           outside of Queens. The driver didn't see           anybody, but somebody fucked up. He heard           a voice. Sometimes, that's all youneed.                                                YELLOW 06/11/94                                                                   4.      BOOM3     INT. DARK APARTMENT - DAY - NEW YORK - SIX WEEKS PRIORTO      PRESENT DAY      The black explodes with the opening of a door into a dark      room. Outside, the hall is filled with blinding white light.      Shadows in the shapes of men flood into the room. Wecan make      out men in hoods with flashlights. They are laden with      weapons.                                   VOICES                 POLICE. SEARCH WARRANT. DON'T MOVE.      It is a blur of violentaction and sound.'Beams of      flashlights cut the darkness in all directions.      FINALLY:      A dozen flashlights land on one man. He lies naked in bed,      Merging from a deep sleep. He squints at the floodof      blinding white light, more annoyed than frightened. He nearly      laughs at the sound of countless guns cocking. He is      McMANUS. Age twenty-eight.                               VOICE (O.S.)                 Mr.McManus?                                  McMANUS                 Yeah.                               VOICE (O.S.)                 Police. We have a warrant for                 yourarrest.                                   McMANUS                 Will they be serving coffee downtown?      Two dozen black gloved hands grab him and yank him out of      bed.4     INT. AUTO BODY SHOP -DAY                                            4       An old paint mixer vibrates furiously.      TODD HOCKNEY, a dark, portly man in his thirties is working      on an old Fire-bird.                                                          AYOUNG HISPANIC KID mixes paint a few feet away.      SUDDENLY, the garage door opens TO REVEAL:                                                   YELLOW06/11/94                                                                     4A .        A row of five men silhouetted by the bright sun.        Hockney squints.                                                YELLOW06/11/94                                                                   5.                                  HOCKNEY                 Can I help you?      Hockney's voice isgruff.                                    MAN                 Todd Hockney'      Hockney reaches for something just inside the door of the      Fire-bird.                                    HOCKNEY                 Who areyou?      All six men INSTANTLY PRODUCE GUNS and aim them at Hockney.                                    MAN                   Police.      Hockney withdraws a filthy towel and wipes grease and sweat      from hisforehead.                                                                                HOCKNEY                 We don't do gun repair.S     EXT. STREET - NEW YORK - DAY      FRED FENSTER, a tall, thin man in histhirties strolls      casually down the street. He is dressed conspicuously in a      loud suit and tie with shoes that have no hope of matching.      He smokes a cigarette and chews gum at the same time.      He happens toglance over his shoulder and notice a brown      Ford sedan with four men in it cruising along the curb. He      picks up his step a little. The Ford keeps up.      He looks ahead at the corner. He tries to look ascomfortable      as he can, checking his watch as though remembering an      appointment he is late for. The Ford stays right on him.      SUDDENLY, he bolts. He gets no more than a few yards before      cars pour outof every conceivable nook and cranny. Brakes      are squealing, radios squawking, guns cocking. Fenster is      surrounded instantly. He stops short and flaps his hands on      his thighs in defeat.6     INT.MONDINO'S RESTAURANT - DAY      An attractive man and woman walk quickly through the front of      a small New York cafe. They are charged with nervous,excited      energy.                                          YELLOW 06/11/94                                                             5A.The man is DEAN KEATON, a well dressed, sturdy looking man inhis forties withslightly graying hair. He looks much betterthan he did in the opening scene. The woman with him is EDIEFINNERAN, age thirty-three, poised and attractive - Easilythe calmer of thetwo.                                                 BLUE 06/01/94                                                                     6.     They come to a staircase at the back of the restaurant     leading down to a dark room.Edie takes Keaton's arm and     stops him.                                  EDIE                Let me look at you.     Keaton is uncomfortable in his suit, or perhaps the     situation. Still, he smiles with genuinewarmth.     Edie straightens his tie and picks microscopic imperfections     from his lapel.                              EDIE (CONT'D)                Now remember, this is another kind of                business. They don'tearn your respect.                You owe it to them. Don't stare them down                but don't look away either. Confidence.                They are fools not to trust you. That's                theattitude.                                 KEATON                I'm having a stroke.                                   EDIE                You've come far. You're a good man. I                love you.     Keaton blinks thenstammers, looking for a response.     PAUSE                              EDIE (CONT'D)                Live with it.     She kisses him and runs down the steps with Keaton close     behind. Keaton playfully grabs


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       187
                by

          Scott Yagemann

       REVISED SHOOTINGDRAFT

         November 4, 1996

FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY

    Rev. 7/10/96

                             1   8   7

1   EXT. LOWERMANHATTAN SKYLINE - BROOKLYN BRIDGE - MORNING    1
    RUSH HOUR

    ON a pair of black Dexter penny loafers diligently
    pedaling an old Schwinn mountain bike. ADJUST ANGLEnow
    to meet the bicyclist...

    He's African-American. Anywhere from 33 to 40. Wears
    wire-rim glasses, a fresh white oxford shirt, creased
    slacks and a solid green tie. An unobtrusivefigure, at
    once familiar and yet undiscerning. The type you'd pass
    on a sidewalk and never even notice. He's TREVOR GARFIELD.

    ADJUST ANGLE FURTHER now to reveal the upperpromenade
    bike path and a dramatic view of Lower Manhattan behind
    him. Morning sun glimmers off the Trade Center towers.

    Trevor's shadow skitters along the wooden path, 160ft.
    above the East River.

    A fat briefcase, strapped to the back of his bike, rocks
    back and forth as he pumps the pedals.

    FROM ABOVE now a sweeping view of Trevor, alone onthe
    bike path, a speck, suspended above a sea of rush hour
    traffic on the bridge below.

2   EXT. ATLANTIC AVENUE (BEDFORD STUYVESANT) - MORNING         2

    Awrought-iron train trestle covered with graffiti shakes
    as an "EL" TRAIN ROARS overhead. Trevor races parallel
    with it along Atlantic Avenue. Every city block becomes
    more and morerundown.

3   EXT. ROOSEVELT WHITNEY HIGH SCHOOL (BEDFORD                 3
    STUYVESANT) - MORNING

    A cyclone fence frames the stalwart face of the old
    three-storyadministration building. Ubiquitous gray
    patches of paint fail to cover where taggers have most
    recently left their marks. The ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL, a
    black man with a booming voice, barks atlate-comers who
    are about to be tardy...

                            ASSISTANT PRINCIPAL
                     (clapping his hands)
              ... Let's go, people! Tardy lock-
              out starts inone minute! Get
              your butts in gear! One minute,
              people! Move it!

                                                  (CONTINUED)

     1   8   7 - Rev.7/10/96                                  2.

3    CONTINUED:                                                      3

     SUPERIMPOSE:    ROOSEVELT WHITNEY HIGH SCHOOL -
                     OCTOBER1994

     The Assistant Principal, attention diverted, doesn't even
     notice Trevor as he enters on his bike and races down the
     sidewalk in front of the school. With all theprompting,
     students still don't seem to be in much of a hurry.

4    OMITTED                                                         4

5    INT. RWHS "A" BUILDING - MAINENTRANCE                          5

     ... as Trevor squeezes through the doorway past students
     being processed through card readers and metal detectors
     and turns down the mainhall.

6    INT. RWHS - MAIN FLOOR                                          6

     With a glance over his shoulder, Trevor hops back onto
     his bike and pedals it down the middle of thecorridor.
     STRAGGLING STUDENTS either ignore him or look at him
     like he's insane.

                                STRAGGLING STUDENT
                         (as Trevor passes)
                  ...No ridin' bikes in 'a hallway,
                  stoo-pit.

6A   INT. STAIRWELL                                                  6A

     As Trevor reaches the end of the main corridor... and
     steers hisbike down the stairs.

7    INT. RWHS - BOTTOM FLOOR                                        7

     Trevor coasts skillfully down the stairs and emerges
     onto the bottom floor of the school. Hepedals away
     toward the other end of the corridor.

7A   EXT. TREVOR'S CLASSROOM                                         7A

     A crowd of 10th graders loiter outside Trevor'sroom.
     Seeing him coming, they stir to life with a flurry of
     taunts. Trevor chooses to face all dissension witha
     smile.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

     1   8   7 - Rev.7/10/96                               3.

7A   CONTINUED:                                                  7A

     As Trevor hops off his bike and unlocks the classroom
     door, he notices two lovers making out inthe hallway...

                                VOICE IN CROWD
                  ... Yuh late, Garfield.

                                TREVOR
                         (catching his breath)
                  ... No, bellhasn't rung yet.
                  Okay, let's get inside. C'mon.
                         (as they file
                          into the room)
                  ... Morning, morning. Riseand
                  shine.

     TWO STUDENTS make passing comments...

                                AUGGIE
                         (shaking his head)
                  ... You one crazy-ass nigga,G.

                                TYWAN
                         (a quarter stuck
                          in one ear)
                  ... Damn skippy.

                                TREVOR
                  Thankyou for sharing, Auggie.

                                TYWAN
                         (provoking Auggie)
                  ... Auggie doggie.

                                AUGGIE (O.S.)
                  Fuck you,Tywan. Yer mama's a
                  gangsta-rapper.

     Trevor offers a pleasant greeting to the two lovers.

                                TREVOR
                  'Scuse me, you two... thisisn't
                  the Playboy Channel.

     Trevor enters the room, but ducks his head back into
     the hall.

                                TREVOR
                  'Morning,Juanita.

8    INT. RWHS - TREVOR'S CLASSROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION          8

     Walls are covered with assorted science posters.
     Styrofoam nuclei dangle from the ceiling.Trevor
     unstraps the fat briefcase from his bicycle and sets
     it on a metal stool next to his desk...
                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                                   4.

8   CONTINUED:                                                          8

                               TREVOR
                        (enthusiastically)
                 Let's get started. Augustand
                 Tywan, you pass out the books.
                 Thank you, gentlemen.

    Auggie and Tywan don't budge.

                                TYWAN
                 Whas up wit' your car,G?   Yer
                 Pinto blow up?

    The majority of students aren't even paying attention.          A
    group in the back is already starting a cardgame.

                               TREVOR
                        (good-natured smile)
                 No, I don't own a Pinto, Tywan.
                        (addressing the class)
                 Okay, can I haveeveryone's
                 attention?

    No response, but it doesn't phase Trevor.         He removes
    the front wheels from his bike.

                               TREVOR
                 Thepurpose of the bicycle is to
                 demonstrate the principle of
                 centripetal force. That's the
                 opposite of the force we studied
                 yesterday, whichwas...

                                 VOICE IN THE CROWD
                 Magnum force.

    Hoots and laughter.

                               TREVOR
                 Centrifugal force...Centripetal
                 force is where the acceleration of
                 a body moving in circular motion
                 is directed toward its center by an
                 opposing force, thuscreating
                 momentum that constrains the body to
                 its circular path. Like a gyroscope.
                        (sees nothing
                         but yawns)
                 It's better if Ishow you. Here,
                 Tywan, you be my helper.

    Tywan and Auggie are busy talking in the corner.        They
    still haven't passed out the books.

                                                         (CONTINUED)

                                                              5.

8   CONTINUED:    (2)                                               8

                                TREVOR
                 Tywan?   Comeon.

    Tywan, solidly built like a Rodin bronze, saunters over.

                               TYWAN
                 Whad-up, G?
                        (to rest of class)
                 Hey, shut up! Y'all toodamn
                 loud, man!

    Class quiets but only marginally.

                               TREVOR
                 I need you to demonstrate
                 centripetalforce.
                        (removes briefcase
                         from stool)
                 Here, have a seat.

    Tywan sits and Trevor hands him the upside-downbicycle.

                               TREVOR
                 Okay, hold the bike steady with
                 your knees. That's it. Seat
                 positioned against your chest.

    Tywan glancesover at Auggie and starts to laugh.

                               TYWAN
                        (to Auggie)
                 Shut up, foo.

                               TREVOR
                 Okay, now crank thepedals and get
                 that back wheel spinning about
                 180 R.P.M.

                               TYWAN
                 Whas up wit'dat?

                               TREVOR
                        (coaxing him along)
                 You'll see. Be patient.

    A skeptical Tywan starts to crank the pedals, but he's
    not pedaling hardenough.

                               TREVOR
                 ... Put some muscle into it.

    Tywan cranks the pedals harder now. Trevor back-pedals
    over to the textbook shelf and randomlyselects a
    physical science book (but doesn't open it).

                                                      (CONTINUED)

    1   8   7 - Rev.7/10/96                                6.

8   CONTINUED:    (3)                                            8

                               TREVOR
                 ... Keep pedaling. Harder.

    A paper airplane sails


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SWORDFISH         by     Skip Woods     January 2001Final Production DraftFOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSESONLY1   BLACKNESS                                                     1    We hear OVER...                              GABRIEL (V.O.)                You know the problem with                Hollywood? Theymake shit.                Unbelievable, unremarkable shit.                I'm not some grungy filmmaker-                wannabee searching for                existentialism through a haze of                bong-smoke. It's easy topick                apart bad acting, short-sighted                directing, or the purely moronic                stringing together of words many                of the studios term as prose. No,                I'm talking the lack ofrealism.                Realism. Not a pervasive element                in the modern American cinematic                vision.    FADE IN:    INT. STARBUCKS COFFEE SHOP - MORNING    Three men sit at awindow booth drinking coffee and    talking. Two of the men sit on one side of the table;    STANLEY is in his early thirties, AGENT ROBERTS, early    forties. Both wear suits, the younger's is fairly    expensive and wellcut, the other's is polyester, enough    said. The MAN across, however, is quite different. He    is what they used to call a "cool-cat."                              GABRIEL (MAN)                Take Dog Day Afternoonfor                example. Arguably Pacino's                greatest performance, excepting                The Godfather, Part I, and                Scarface, of course. A                masterpiece of directing, easily                Lumet'sbest. The acting, the                script, cinematography, all top                notch. But, they didn't push the                envelope. What if in Dog Day,                Sonny really wanted to get away                with it? What if,and here's                where it gets tricky. What if                they'd started killing hostages?                No mercy, no quarter, meet our                demands or the cute blonde in the                bell bottoms gets one inthe back                of the head, bam, splatter. What?                Still no bus?                              (MORE)                                                    (CONTINUED)                                                              2.1   CONTINUED:                                                      1                               GABRIEL (CONT'D)                 How many innocent victims would                 they let get sprayedacross the                 windows before the city reversed                 its policy on hostage situations?                 And this was 1976. No C.N.N., no                 C.N.B.C., no M.T.V. No Internet.                 Fast forward tothe present, same                 situation. Can you imagine the                 feeding frenzy of the modern                 media? In hours it would be the                 top story from Boston to Budapest.                 All caught in150 millimeter zoom,                 computer enhanced, and color                 corrected. You would practically                 taste the brain matter. Six                 hostages die. Ten. Twelve.                 Twenty. Thirty.Relentless. One                 after another. All over a bus, a                 plane, and a couple of million                 dollars that were federally                 insured.    He sits, letting the pictures sink in,then:                               GABRIEL                 Just a thought. I mean it's not                 really within the realm of                 conventional cinema, butwhat                 if...?                               ROBERTS                 You know, this movie of yours, I                 don't think it would have worked.                                GABRIEL                 Really?   Howcome?                               ROBERTS                        (shrugs)                 Audiences love happy endings.                               GABRIEL                 Pacino escapes. With themoney.                 Boyfriend gets the sex change                 operation. They live happily ever                 after.    Stanley shakes his head.                                GABRIEL                 No?                                                      (CONTINUED)                                                             3.1   CONTINUED:    (2)                                              1                               STANLEY                 No.                               GABRIEL                 Homophobia?    Stanley shakes his head.                               STANLEY                 Bad guy can't win. It's a                 morality tale. One way orthe                 other, he's gotta go down.                                GABRIEL                 Oh, well. Life does tend to be                 stranger than fiction.                        (looking at watch)                 Well, guys,gotta jet. This place                 is kinda dead.    CAMERA PANS AROUND the coffee shop. Not a soul in the    place. We CONTINUE TO PAN AROUND 270 DEGREES TO the    front door, which is open. Outside the opendoorway are    crouched a squad of heavily body-armored SWAT members,    packed together, and aiming automatic weapons inside.    ANGLE ONGABRIEL                               GABRIEL                 Thanks for the coffee.    He gets up. In his left hand, which has been hidden by    the table until now, he is holding a strange-looking    spring-loadedgrip. Gabriel is looking back at them.    Smiles.                               GABRIEL                 Rene Descartes is sitting in some                 bar in Paris. Bartender says,                 'Hey, you want anotherdrink?'                 Descartes says, 'I think not.'                 And disappears.    He smiles at his own joke, then turns and walks over to    the front door.                               GABRIEL                 Move.    No oneeven twitches.                               GABRIEL                 I won't askagain.                                                     (CONTINUED)                                                             4.1   CONTINUED:    (3)                                             1    He lifts up thedevice in his left hand.    ANGLE ON ROBERTS    who nods his head. The SWAT team moves back, letting    Gabriel out of the coffee shop.                               GABRIEL                 Thankyou.    Gabriel looks back at Stan sitting in the booth.                               GABRIEL                 Stanley... you coming?    Stan slides from the booth as Gabriel exits the coffee    shop --2   EXT.STARBUCKS COFFEE SHOP - DAY                              2    SILENCE -- no sounds on the SOUNDTRACK.    Gabriel and Stanley stop just outside the doorway.    Gabriel dons a pair of hip little shades, thencontinues    across the sidewalk and into the street.    He nonchalantly looks up. Suddenly the THUMP of    HELICOPTERS and the WAIL of SIRENS dominates the    soundtrack.    Pandemonium. HELICOPTERS RIP thesky, L.A. County PD and    a bunch of news vultures. Squad cars block off both ends    of the street while SWAT trucks, news vans, and looky-    loos are packed together into the distance.    Sharpshooters lean out ofwindows and snipers are    positioned on every open rooftop. Hundreds of weapons    are pointed at this man who saunters across the street as    if he's on his way to Sunday service, without a care in    theworld.    Slowly, Stanley follows Gabriel into the street.    Gabriel steps up on the far sidewalk, a huge armored bus    blocks most of the windows. He walks beside the bus,    under a huge "WORLD BANC" sign, andthrough the glass    front door, which shuts IN OUR FACE.3   INT. BANK - CLOSEUP - GABRIEL - DAY                           3    He turns away from the window and we FOLLOWhim.                                                  (CONTINUED)                                                                5.3   CONTINUED:                                                        3    The interior of thebank looks like New Orleans on Fat    Tuesday. Three Hummers sit in the middle of the floor,    surrounded by broken glass. Between them rests a bright    red Ferrari F50 (Gabriel's).    All but one of the front windowsof the bank, the one    with the door in it, has been welded over with 3/4 inch    plate steel.    Over two dozen hostages lie face down on the floor, arms    cable-tied behind their backs. Something has beenduct-    taped around their chests and each is wearing what    appears to be a dog collar.    The other occupants of the room are nine men. All of    whom would look as if they were attending the fashion    event of theyear were it not for the automatic weapons    each one carries.                                 GABRIEL                 How we doin'?    One of the ARMED MEN finishes putting a collar on a    young, normallygood-looking-but-now-covered-in-mascara,    whimpering blonde girl.                                 MARCO (ARMED MAN)                 Done.                                GABRIEL                 Good.   Take herout.    SUPERIMPOSE:    FRIDAY, OCTOBER 18     8:41:22...    The front door opens and one of the suited men drags out    the pretty blonde from earlier. She is sobbing and is in    such grief she can't evenwalk.4   EXT. BANK - DAY                                                   4    On the sidewalk, the suited man, his automatic weapon    slung, holds her up for everyone to see.5   INT. BANK -DAY                                                   5    Gabriel grabs his cell and dials.6   INT. STARBUCKS COFFEE SHOP - DAY                                  6    Roberts sits in the Starbucks which has beentransformed    into a high-tech command center reading anewspaper.                                                        (CONTINUED)                                                                6.6   CONTINUED:                                                       6    Wecannot see the headlines. Federal and state officers    scramble around handling problems. The PHONE RINGS.    Assistant Director Bill Joy (A.D. JOY), an older-looking    guy who looks more like an accountant than anassistant    director of the FBI, is handed the phone.                               A.D. JOY                 Is everyone in position?                                SWAT LEADER                 Almost,sir.                                ROBERTS                        (looks up from                         paper)                 What are you doing?    We PAN AROUND.                               A.D. JOY                        (toSWAT LEADER)                 Get her at your first opportunity.                               SWAT LEADER                        (into mike)                 High ground one and two. You                 have a greenlight.                               ROBERTS                 I've seen what this man is capable                 of --                                A.D. JOY                 The F.B.I. does not negotiate with                 terrorists. Iassumed you'd be                 aware of that.                        (answering phone)                 Joy.    Roberts picks up an extension.                               GABRIEL (V.O.)                 Don't talk, listen... When I


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Thuvia, Maid of Mars, by Edgar Rice BurroughsThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it awayorre-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.netTitle: Thuvia, Maid of MarsAuthor: Edgar Rice BurroughsPosting Date: June 23, 2008 [EBook#72]Release Date: July, 1993First Posted: November 14, 2001[Last updated: October 10, 2012]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THUVIA, MAID OF MARS ***Produced by JudithBoss and Charles Keller.  HTML version by Al Haines.Thuvia, Maid of MarsByEdgar Rice Burroughs             CONTENTS CHAPTER    I  Carthoris and Thuvia   II  Slavery  III  Treachery   IV  A Green Man's Captive    V  TheFair Race   VI  The Jeddak of Lothar  VII  The Phantom Bowmen VIII  The Hall of Doom   IX  The Battle in the Plain    X  Kar Komak, the Bowman   XI  Green Men and White Apes  XII  To Save Dusar XIII  Turjun, thePanthan  XIV  Kulan Tith's Sacrifice       Glossary of Names and TermsTHUVIA, MAID OF MARSCHAPTER ICARTHORIS AND THUVIAUpon a massive bench of polished ersite beneath the gorgeous bloomsof a giant pimaliaa woman sat.  Her shapely, sandalled foot tappedimpatiently upon the jewel-strewn walk that wound beneath thestately sorapus trees across the scarlet sward of the royal gardensof Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, as adark-haired, red-skinnedwarrior bent low toward her, whispering heated words close to herear."Ah, Thuvia of Ptarth," he cried, "you are cold even before thefiery blasts of my consuming love!  No harder than yourheart, norcolder is the hard, cold ersite of this thrice happy bench whichsupports your divine and fadeless form!  Tell me, O Thuvia ofPtarth, that I may still hope--that though you do not love me now,yet some day,some day, my princess, I--"The girl sprang to her feet with an exclamation of surprise anddispleasure.  Her queenly head was poised haughtily upon her smoothred shoulders.  Her dark eyes looked angrily into those ofthe man."You forget yourself, and the customs of Barsoom, Astok," she said."I have given you no right thus to address the daughter of ThuvanDihn, nor have you won such a right."The man reached suddenly forth andgrasped her by the arm."You shall be my princess!" he cried.  "By the breast of Issus, thoushalt, nor shall any other come between Astok, Prince of Dusar,and his heart's desire.  Tell me that there is another, and Ishallcut out his foul heart and fling it to the wild calots of the deadsea-bottoms!"At touch of the man's hand upon her flesh the girl went pallidbeneath her coppery skin, for the persons of the royal women ofthe courts ofMars are held but little less than sacred.  The actof Astok, Prince of Dusar, was profanation.  There was no terrorin the eyes of Thuvia of Ptarth--only horror for the thing the manhad done and for its possibleconsequences."Release me."  Her voice was level--frigid.The man muttered incoherently and drew her roughly toward him."Release me!" she repeated sharply, "or I call the guard, and thePrince of Dusar knows whatthat will mean."Quickly he threw his right arm about her shoulders and strove todraw her face to his lips.  With a little cry she struck him fullin the mouth with the massive bracelets that circled her free arm."Calot!" sheexclaimed, and then:  "The guard!  The guard!  Hastenin protection of the Princess of Ptarth!"In answer to her call a dozen guardsmen came racing across thescarlet sward, their gleaming long-swords naked in the sun,themetal of their accoutrements clanking against that of their leathernharness, and in their throats hoarse shouts of rage at the sightwhich met their eyes.But before they had passed half across the royal garden towhereAstok of Dusar still held the struggling girl in his grasp, anotherfigure sprang from a cluster of dense foliage that half hid a goldenfountain close at hand.  A tall, straight youth he was, with blackhair and keen greyeyes; broad of shoulder and narrow of hip; aclean-limbed fighting man.  His skin was but faintly tinged withthe copper colour that marks the red men of Mars from the otherraces of the dying planet--he was like them,and yet there was asubtle difference greater even than that which lay in his lighterskin and his grey eyes.There was a difference, too, in his movements.  He came on in greatleaps that carried him so swiftly over theground that the speedof the guardsmen was as nothing by comparison.Astok still clutched Thuvia's wrist as the young warrior confrontedhim.  The new-comer wasted no time and he spoke but a single word."Calot!" hesnapped, and then his clenched fist landed beneath theother's chin, lifting him high into the air and depositing him ina crumpled heap within the centre of the pimalia bush beside theersite bench.Her champion turnedtoward the girl.  "Kaor, Thuvia of Ptarth!" hecried.  "It seems that fate timed my visit well.""Kaor, Carthoris of Helium!" the princess returned the young man'sgreeting, "and what less could one expect of the son of suchasire?"He bowed his acknowledgment of the compliment to his father, JohnCarter, Warlord of Mars.  And then the guardsmen, panting fromtheir charge, came up just as the Prince of Dusar, bleeding at themouth, andwith drawn sword, crawled from the entanglement of thepimalia.Astok would have leaped to mortal combat with the son of DejahThoris, but the guardsmen pressed about him, preventing, though itwas clearly evidentthat naught would have better pleased Carthorisof Helium."But say the word, Thuvia of Ptarth," he begged, "and naught willgive me greater pleasure than meting to this fellow the punishmenthe has earned.""It cannotbe, Carthoris," she replied.  "Even though he has forfeitedall claim upon my consideration, yet is he the guest of the jeddak,my father, and to him alone may he account for the unpardonableact he has committed.""Asyou say, Thuvia," replied the Heliumite.  "But afterward heshall account to Carthoris, Prince of Helium, for this affront tothe daughter of my father's friend." As he spoke, though, thereburned in his eyes a fire thatproclaimed a nearer, dearer causefor his championship of this glorious daughter of Barsoom.The maid's cheek darkened beneath the satin of her transparent skin,and the eyes of Astok, Prince of Dusar, darkened, too,as he readthat which passed unspoken between the two in the royal gardens ofthe jeddak."And thou to me," he snapped at Carthoris, answering the youngman's challenge.The guard still surrounded Astok.  It was adifficult position forthe young officer who commanded it.  His prisoner was the son of amighty jeddak; he was the guest of Thuvan Dihn--until but now anhonoured guest upon whom every royal dignity had beenshowered.To arrest him forcibly could mean naught else than war, and yet hehad done that which in the eyes of the Ptarth warrior merited death.The young man hesitated.  He looked toward his princess.  She,too,guessed all that hung upon the action of the coming moment.  Formany years Dusar and Ptarth had been at peace with each other.Their great merchant ships plied back and forth between the largercities of the twonations.  Even now, far above the gold-shotscarlet dome of the jeddak's palace, she could see the huge bulkof a giant freighter taking its majestic way through the thinBarsoomian air toward the west and Dusar.By aword she might plunge these two mighty nations into a bloodyconflict that would drain them of their bravest blood and theirincalculable riches, leaving them all helpless against the inroadsof their envious and lesspowerful neighbors, and at last a preyto the savage green hordes of the dead sea-bottoms.No sense of fear influenced her decision, for fear is seldom knownto the children of Mars.  It was rather a sense of theresponsibilitythat she, the daughter of their jeddak, felt for the welfare ofher father's people."I called you, Padwar," she said to the lieutenant of the guard,"to protect the person of your princess, and to keep thepeacethat must not be violated within the royal gardens of the jeddak.That is all.  You will escort me to the palace, and the Prince ofHelium will accompany me."Without another glance in the direction of Astok sheturned, andtaking Carthoris' proffered hand, moved slowly toward the massivemarble pile that housed the ruler of Ptarth and his glitteringcourt.  On either side marched a file of guardsmen.  Thus Thuviaof Ptarth founda way out of a dilemma, escaping the necessityof placing her father's royal guest under forcible restraint, andat the same time separating the two princes, who otherwise wouldhave been at each other's throat themoment she and the guard haddeparted.Beside the pimalia stood Astok, his dark eyes narrowed to mere slitsof hate beneath his lowering brows as he watched the retreatingforms of the woman who had aroused thefiercest passions of hisnature and the man whom he now believed to be the one who stoodbetween his love and its consummation.As they disappeared within the structure Astok shrugged his shoulders,and with amurmured oath crossed the gardens toward another wingof the building where he and his retinue were housed.That night he took formal leave of Thuvan Dihn, and though nomention was made of the happening withinthe garden, it was plainto see through the cold mask of the jeddak's courtesy that onlythe customs of royal hospitality restrained him from voicing thecontempt he felt for the Prince of Dusar.Carthoris was not present atthe leave-taking, nor was Thuvia.  Theceremony was as stiff and formal as court etiquette could make it,and when the last of the Dusarians clambered over the rail of thebattleship that had brought them upon thisfateful visit to thecourt of Ptarth, and the mighty engine of destruction had risenslowly from the ways of the landing-stage, a note of relief wasapparent in the voice of Thuvan Dihn as he turned to one of hisofficers witha word of comment upon a subject foreign to thatwhich had been uppermost in the minds of all for hours.But, after all, was it so foreign?"Inform Prince Sovan," he directed, "that it is our wish that thefleet whichdeparted for Kaol this morning be recalled to cruiseto the west of Ptarth."As the warship, bearing Astok back to the court of his father,turned toward the west, Thuvia of Ptarth, sitting upon the samebench where thePrince of Dusar had affronted her, watched thetwinkling lights of the craft growing smaller in the distance.Beside her, in the brilliant light of the nearer moon, sat Carthoris.His eyes were not upon the dim bulk of thebattleship, but on theprofile of the girl's upturned face."Thuvia," he whispered.The girl turned her eyes toward his.  His hand stole out to findhers, but she drew her own gently away."Thuvia of Ptarth, I love you!" criedthe young warrior.  "Tell methat it does not offend."She shook her head sadly.  "The love of Carthoris of Helium," shesaid simply, "could be naught but an honour to any woman; but youmust not speak, my friend, ofbestowing upon me that which I maynot reciprocate."The young man got slowly to his feet.  His eyes were wide inastonishment.  It never had occurred to the Prince of Helium thatThuvia of Ptarth might loveanother."But at Kadabra!" he exclaimed.  "And later here at your father'scourt, what did you do, Thuvia of Ptarth, that might have warnedme that you could not return my love?""And what did I do, Carthoris of Helium,"she returned, "that mightlead you to believe that I DID return it?"He paused in thought, and then shook his head.  "Nothing, Thuvia,that is true; yet I could have sworn you loved me.  Indeed, youwell knew how near toworship has been my love for you.""And how might I know it, Carthoris?" she asked innocently.  "Didyou ever tell me as much?  Ever before have words of love for mefallen from your lips?""But you MUST have knownit!" he exclaimed.  "I am like myfather--witless in matters of the heart, and of a poor way withwomen; yet the jewels that strew these royal garden paths--thetrees, the flowers, the sward--all must have read the lovethat hasfilled my heart since first my eyes were made new by imaging yourperfect face and form; so how could you alone have been blind toit?""Do the maids of Helium pay court to their men?" asked Thuvia."You areplaying with me!" exclaimed Carthoris.  "Say that you arebut playing, and that after all you love me, Thuvia!""I cannot tell you that, Carthoris, for I am promised to another."Her tone was level, but was there not withinit the hint of aninfinite depth of sadness?  Who may say?"Promised to another?"  Carthoris scarcely breathed the words.  Hisface went almost white, and then his head came up as befitted himin whose veins flowed theblood of the overlord of a world."Carthoris of Helium wishes you every happiness with the man ofyour choice," he said.  "With--" and then he hesitated, waitingfor her to fill in the name."Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol," shereplied.  "My father's friendand Ptarth's most puissant ally."The young man looked at her intently for a moment before he spokeagain."You love him, Thuvia of Ptarth?" he asked."I am promised to him," she repliedsimply.He did not press her.  "He is of Barsoom's noblest blood and mightiestfighters," mused Carthoris.  "My father's friend and mine--wouldthat it might have been another!" he muttered almost savagely.  Whatthegirl thought was hidden by the mask of her expression, whichwas tinged only by a little shadow of sadness that might have beenfor Carthoris, herself, or for them both.Carthoris of Helium did not ask, though he notedit, for hisloyalty to Kulan Tith was the loyalty of the blood of John Carterof Virginia for a friend, greater than which could be no loyalty.He raised a jewel-encrusted bit of the girl's magnificent trappingsto his lips."To thehonour and happiness of Kulan Tith and the priceless jewelthat has been bestowed upon him," he said, and though his voicewas husky there was the true ring of sincerity in it.  "I told youthat I loved you, Thuvia, beforeI knew that you were promised toanother.  I may not tell you it again, but I am glad that you knowit, for there is no dishonour in it either to you or to Kulan Tithor to myself.  My love is such that it may embrace as wellKulanTith--if you love him."  There was almost a question in the statement."I am promised to him," she replied.Carthoris backed slowly away.  He laid one hand upon his heart,the other upon the pommel of hislong-sword."These are yours--always," he said.  A moment later he had enteredthe palace, and was gone from the girl's sight.Had he returned at once he would have found her prone upon theersite bench, her faceburied in her arms.  Was she weeping?  Therewas none to see.Carthoris of Helium had come all unannounced to the court of hisfather's friend that day.  He had come alone in a small flier, sureof the same welcome thatalways awaited him at Ptarth.  As therehad been no formality in his coming there was no need of formalityin his going.To Thuvan Dihn he explained that he had been but testing an inventionof his own with which hisflier was equipped--a clever improvementof the ordinary Martian air compass, which, when set for a certaindestination, will remain constantly fixed thereon, making it onlynecessary to keep a vessel's prow always in thedirection of thecompass needle to reach any given point upon Barsoom by the shortestroute.Carthoris' improvement upon this consisted of an auxiliary devicewhich steered the craft mechanically in the direction ofthecompass, and upon arrival directly over the point for which thecompass was set, brought the craft to a standstill and lowered it,also automatically, to the ground."You readily discern the advantages of this invention,"he was sayingto Thuvan Dihn, who had accompanied him to the landing-stage uponthe palace roof to inspect the compass and bid his young friendfarewell.A dozen officers of the court with several body servantsweregrouped behind the jeddak and his guest, eager listeners to theconversation--so eager on the part of one of the servants that hewas twice rebuked by a noble for his forwardness in pushing himselfahead of hisbetters to view the intricate mechanism of the wonderful"controlling destination compass," as the thing was called."For example," continued Carthoris, "I have an all-night trip beforeme, as to-night.  I set the pointerhere upon the right-hand dialwhich represents the eastern hemisphere of Barsoom, so that thepoint rests upon the exact latitude and longitude of Helium.  ThenI start the engine, roll up in my sleeping silks and furs,and withlights burning, race through the air toward Helium, confident thatat the appointed hour I shall drop gently toward the landing-stageupon my own palace, whether I am still asleep or no.""Provided," suggestedThuvan Dihn, "you do not chance to collidewith some other night wanderer in the meanwhile."Carthoris smiled.  "No danger of that," he replied.  "See here,"and he indicated a device at the right of the destinationcompass."This is my 'obstruction evader,' as I call it.  This visible deviceis the switch which throws the mechanism on or off.  The instrumentitself is below deck, geared both to the steering apparatus andthe controllevers."It is quite simple, being nothing more than a radium generatordiffusing radio-activity in all directions to a distance of ahundred yards or so from the flier.  Should this enveloping forcebe interrupted in anydirection a delicate instrument immediatelyapprehends the irregularity, at the same time imparting an impulseto a magnetic device which in turn actuates the steering mechanism,diverting the bow of the flier awayfrom the obstacle until the craft'sradio-activity sphere is no longer in contact with the obstruction,then she falls once more into her normal course.  Should thedisturbance approach from the rear, as in case of afaster-movingcraft overhauling me, the mechanism actuates the speed control aswell as the steering gear, and the flier shoots ahead and eitherup or down, as the oncoming vessel is upon a lower or higher planethanherself."In aggravated cases, that is when the obstructions are many, orof such a nature as to deflect the bow more than forty-five degreesin any direction, or when the craft has reached its destinationand dropped towithin a hundred yards of the ground, the mechanismbrings her to a full stop, at the same time sounding a loud alarmwhich will instantly awaken the pilot.  You see I have anticipatedalmost every contingency."ThuvanDihn smiled his appreciation of the marvellous device.  Theforward servant pushed almost to the flier's side.  His eyes werenarrowed to slits."All but one," he said.The nobles looked at him in astonishment, and one ofthem graspedthe fellow none too gently by the shoulder to push him back to hisproper place.  Carthoris raised his hand."Wait," he urged.  "Let us hear what the man has to say--no creationof mortal mind isperfect.  Perchance he has detected a weaknessthat it will be well to know at once.  Come, my good fellow, andwhat may be the one contingency I have overlooked?"As he spoke Carthoris observed the servant closelyfor the firsttime.  He saw a man of giant stature and handsome, as are all thoseof the race of Martian red men; but the fellow's lips were thinand cruel, and across one cheek was the faint, white line of asword-cut fromthe right temple to the corner of the mouth."Come," urged the Prince of Helium.  "Speak!"The man hesitated.  It was evident that he regretted the temeritythat had made him the centre of interested observation.  Butatlast, seeing no alternative, he spoke."It might be tampered with," he said, "by an enemy."Carthoris drew a small key from his leathern pocket-pouch."Look at this," he said, handing it to the man.  "If you knowaughtof locks, you will know that the mechanism which this unlooses isbeyond the cunning of a picker of locks.  It guards the vitals ofthe instrument from crafty tampering.  Without it an enemy musthalf wreck thedevice to reach its heart, leaving his handiworkapparent to the most casual observer."The servant took the key, glanced at it shrewdly, and then as hemade to return it to Carthoris dropped it upon the marbleflagging.Turning to look for it he planted the sole of his sandal full uponthe glittering object.  For an instant he bore all his weight uponthe foot that covered the key, then he stepped back and with anexclamation as ofpleasure that he had found it, stooped, recoveredit, and returned it to the Heliumite.  Then he dropped back to hisstation behind the nobles and was forgotten.A moment later Carthoris had made his adieux to ThuvanDihn andhis nobles, and with lights twinkling had risen into the star-shotvoid of the Martian night.CHAPTER IISLAVERYAs the ruler of Ptarth, followed by his courtiers, descended fromthe landing-stage above the palace,the servants dropped into theirplaces in the rear of their royal or noble masters, and behind theothers one lingered to the last.  Then quickly stooping he snatchedthe sandal from his right foot, slipping it into his


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                                  MACHINE GUNPREACHER                                                                                Written by                                     Jason Keller                                                            based on the life of SamChilders                                                                                FINAL SHOOTING DRAFT                                                                                9/30/2010          This istrue...          EXT. VILLAGE - NIGHT - (2003)                                   The night is stillborn.                                   Without sound or movement and nothing is in definition. All we see          are degrees ofblackness in this unlit world. The vague impressions          of an African village in the void... a ragged line of tukuls (straw          huts)... a bicycle propped against a mud wall... a soccer ball in          thedirt...                                   INT. TUKUL - NIGHT                                   And we find a Sudanese family asleep on reed mats. A mother, father          and their two boys. The younger boy we'll come to knowas "WILLIAM"          (9). His older brother "CHRISTOPHER" (12) curled next to him.                                   EXT. VILLAGE - NIGHT                                   And slowly the blackness begins to shift... anotherworldly light          seeping in from someplace far off... shadows contorting in a ghostly          orange flicker... images emerging... the silhouettes of men coming          into this village carrying flamingtorches.                                   INT. TUKUL - NIGHT                                   The family still sound asleep, oblivious to the torch glow coming          from outside, and suddenly--                                   SCREAMING! -- GUNSHOTS!                                   The family bolts awake, moving to their feet as the door to their          tukul SLAMS open -- THREE soldiers from the Lord'sResistance Army          (LRA) coming in carrying AK47's -- shouting in Arabic -- "Get up!          Get up!" -- the FATHER stepping forward -- holding up his hands --          "Don't shoot!"--                                   KAK! KAK! KAK!                                   And he's gunned down in cold blood. The soldiers grab the mother and          boys and begin to drag them out of the tukul -- but WILLIAMbreaks          free -- scrambles deeper into the room --                                   THE SOLDIER going after him -- WILLIAM darting behind a stack of          storage boxes knocking them to the ground -- franticallyburrowing          into the corner -- trying to get away but it's useless -- THE          SOLDIER grabs his feet and begins to pull him out -- WILLIAM KICKING          WILDLY -- digging his nails into the dirt -- and as he'sdragged out          of the corner he reaches out... inadvertently grabs a FADED          PHOTOGRAPH which has fallen on the ground...                                   EXT. VILLAGE -NIGHT                                   CHAOS! -- PANDEMONIUM! -- the black sky ablaze in apocalyptic fire --                          2                                   families yanked out of their burning tukuls by LRA rebels-- the          adult males of this village shot dead or bludgeoned to death -- the          women and children forced into the center of the village -- huddled          together and weeping --                                   -- andnow we see WILLIAM hauled out -- his captor shouting to          another soldier -- pointing to WILLIAM'S mother and she's pulled          from the group and forced onto her knees...                                   ... andWILLIAM is brought in front of her -- his captor saying          something in Arabic as he hands him a club -- "Kill her!" -- WILLIAM          shaking his head `no' -- tossing the club in the dirt and--                                   CRACKKK! -- WILLIAM is hit with the butt of a rifle -- goes down --          blood streaming down his face as he's pulled back up to his feet --          crying -- shaking withfear...                                   ... and then he sees his mother staring up at him... and despite the          hell unfolding around them we see a moment here between mother and          son... something calm andreassuring in the way she's looking at him          now... her eyes full of love... and pity... for her child in this          terrible moment... and before we see how this ends we --                                                   CUTTO:                                                  BLACKNESS                                   FOR A LONG BEAT -- AND THEN WE BLEED UP WHITE LETTERS ON THE BLACK          SCREEN THAT READ--                                                   MACHINEGUN PREACHER          ... AND THEN THE ECHOED VOICES OF MEN YELLING TO ONE ANOTHER...          BOOMING MUSIC... TAUNTS...WHISTLES... AN ANNOUNCEMENT, INAUDIBLE,          OVER A LOUDSPEAKER... TAKING US TO...                                   INT. PRISON CORRIDOR - RURAL PENNSYLVANIA - DAY -(AUGUST/1998)                                   And we see SAM CHILDERS coming down a corridor toward us, dressed in          jailhouse orange and flanked by a guard. He's stocky, 32 years old,          with a biker'shandlebar moustache. On the surface he appears good-          looking... even handsome if the light is right... but his face is          tricky... always changing... behind the quick smile, around his dark          eyes, in thetaut muscles of his neck we see violence.                                   INT. PRISON RECEIVING AND RELEASING - DAY                                   We see a CLERK handing Sam a prison issue tub full of hispersonal          affects. He takes out his clothes, digs out a leather wallet, a          watch, some silver rings and a lighter.                                   He looks up to the Clerk and flashes a malicious smile--                                                   SAM           Ya'll go fuck yourself now, k?                          3                                   EXT. PRISON - DAY                                   A beat-up CHEVYVEGA parked at the curb. Sam's wife, LYNN, 30's, in          a thrift store dress, leaning against the car, waiting.                                   Sam (dressed in civilian clothes now) pushes out a door and she sees          him,straightens her hair, an uneasy smile.                                                   LYNN           Hey baby.                                   EXT SIDE OF ROAD/INT. LYNN'S CAR - DAY                                   The Vegapulled of the side of the road and Sam fucking Lynn in the          back. There's nothing tender about what we're watching here. Sam          finishes and Lynn slumps into the seat, pulls down herdress.                                                   SAM           Gimme a smoke.                                                   LYNN           Don't got any.                                                   SAM           What,you quit?                          (LYNN NODS)           Shit, that ain't gonna last.                                   EXT. MOBILE HOME PARK - DAY                                   The Vega pulls up to a beat-to-shitsingle-wide and Sam and Lynn get          out. We see a homemade sign hanging outside the trailer that reads,          "Welcome Home Daddy!"                                   And now Sam's daughter PAIGE (6) bursts out ofthe trailer and down          the steps... Followed by Sam's mother, DAISY, mid 60's, comes out of          thetrailer.                                                   PAIGE           DADDY!                                   And she jumps into his arms.                                                   SAM           Heybug...                                                   PAIGE           You see yer sign? Grandma and me made it           this mornin.                                                   SAM           Yep, realnice.                                   Lynn enters the trailer, Paige follows.                          4                                                   SAM (CONT'D)           How'ya doin,Mom?                                                   DAISY           Welcome home, Sam.                                   INT. CHILDERS MOBILE HOME -DAY                                                   LYNN                          (TO PAIGE)           You excited, get some juice, help me set           the table.                                   Sam and Daisyenter.                                   There's a quiet anxiety to this homecoming. Everybody on edge,          careful.                                                   LYNN (CONT'D)           Hope you're staying forsupper.                                                   DAISY           Well, I didn't know if...                                                   SAM                          (TO LYNN)           What time you gottawork?                                   Lynn hesitating, not sure how to answer... not sure what's going to          happen when she does... finally...                                                   LYNN           I ain't ontonight.                                                   SAM           What?                                                   DAISY           (changing the subject)           You know we could boil up that corn we           got inthere...                                                   SAM           Friday night you ain't on? Hell is that?                                   He walks toward thefridge.                                                   LYNN           Paige, get that chair.                                                   SAM           That cocksucker Mark better be givin you           yer time or I'm gonna goover there and           bust in his teeth. Why ain't there no           beer?                          5                                                   LYNN           I ain't dancin no more, Sam.                                   Heturns to her, studies her with cold eyes...                                                   LYNN (CONT'D)           Quit a couple weeks ago. Got a job over           atFreemont.                                                   SAM           You tellin me the truth or is this a           joke?                                                   LYNN           Pick up a second shift now andthen.           Weekends if I want em. It's good money.                                                   SAM           Good money? You stupid, woman? You quit           strippin to pack fucking mushroomsat           Freemont?                                                   DAISY           Sam...                                                   SAM           Mom, keep yer mouth shut.                                   Sam's face changing,starting to turn bad. A look we'll come to          know.                                                   LYNN           They're good to me over there, Sam. They           got daycare for Paige and I can get           medical at