1. INT. MAX CUBE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT MAX sitting in the middle of
the room, naked. In a yoga position, eyes closed. To his right side is a
sealed envelope with MAGS written on it. To his left is a handgun.
MORGANFOKKER (voice) You can do it. Come home. End this charade now.
CUT TO: 2. EXT. MAX CUBE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT MAGGIE is leaning against Max's door. She looks like she's been crying.
CUT TO: 3. INT. MAX CUBE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT MAX not moving. Still like the buddha. Brings the gun to his temple.
MORGANFOKKER (voice) That's right, my son. End this game and come back home.
CUT TO: 4. INT. HAPPY HONG'S DINER - NIGHT We
see SUKI and GONER and FRANK sitting at a booth. SUKI is sipping a
milkshake, while GONER is mowing down on a chicken fried rice combo.
FRANK has a tea sitting in front of him.
SUKI Now what do you think is going to happen?
FRANK That depends on what Cube does next.
SUKI You think he's going to do it?
FRANK I truly don't know what he's capable of.
SUKI We got to him before this version of Morganfokker did. Didn't we?
FRANK I hope so. I truly hope so.
CUT TO: 4. EXT. MAX CUBE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT MAGGIE
is standing facing the doorway. The metal door to the
apartment has several big dents in it. It looks like she is focusing all
her might on the steel door.
The nightclub was hot and humid, like a South African jungle before the change. Mags was sitting at a table in the
upper tier, sipping on a ice tea and peering down at the crowd. She
couldn't hear the pounding mesh of music due to the silence dome, but
she could feel the bass on the floor. It made the people down below seem
like clockworks jerking around to a unheard melody.
"There you are," a voice said.
"I'm
here like you asked," Mags replied without turning around. She signaled
to the hoverbot floating above the crowd that she wanted
another drink. It read her signal and headed for the bar.
"You're looking youthful as ever," she said. "What's your secret?"
"I
wish I knew, maybe it's a curse," Mags said with a slight laugh. She
turned to face the woman who was dressed a red power suit. "Let's cut to the chase.
What do you have for me this time, Lucy?"
The communicator at Maggie’s side beeped. Which
caused the other patrons to give her a look. More than being
just a foreigner, she was an angelic looking one at that. She politely
smiled, reached down and brought the comm to her lips. She held it close to
her mouth as she continued walking down the crowded city street, dressed in a
rain slicker.
"Give it to me," Mags said.
"That lead that
you sent us on. We've got a situation over at the Golden Palace," a
man said, his voice worried. "It's something uncanny and
scary and it's got the locals spooked."
"I'll be there in a
jiffy," Maggie said. She snapped the communicator closed and entered the
alleyway. Dropping the rain slicker, revealing a midnight black body
suit, she slung the katana over her shoulders and then jumped to a
ladder to get to the roof.
Max was the first to recover from the shock; his eyes flickered open
like a television set in the morning. The wave had washed over them,
knocking them off of their feet. "That hurt."
The four of them were getting to their feet. Looking around to see if they could spot anything different, or familiar.
"No kidding," Maggie adding, dusting herself off. "One would think that we should be able to get used to it."
Max grunted.
"What just happened?" Suki asked in disbelief; this was her first shift.
MAX, wearing a red t-shirt with a Psycho For Hire logo, runs through an UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE. He's being chased by three men).
MAN 1: There he goes, he's rabbiting!
MAN 2: Damn you Cube, just stop!
MAN 1: (pause) Man, this is like deja vu.
MAX glides behind a corner, his mp3 player headphones showing, flings
open a door and runs up a flight of stairs. He runs down a hall,
gunshots fly. He dives in an elevator as bullets riddle the insides. The
doors close. He stands up and straightens his shirt and presses 13.
After he presses 13 he hits the stop button. The elevator stops. He hits
13 again and the doors open to a bright light. The sound of techno music
fills the elevator.
CUT TO a NIGHTCLUB INTERIOR. MAX and MAGGIE sit at a table. MAGGIE:
You sure it was Big Lo Pi? He's a real scumbag. I hope you didn't lead his thugs here, or else I am
going to kick your ass... but I already said that before, didn't I?
MAX gives MAGGIE a wink.
MAGGIE:
Oh sweetie, don't tell me that this is just a loop we're caught in? And in
seven seconds some hit-men are going to be pouring out of the
elevator... again.
MAX: I played the Time Card.
MAGGIE: That was a one-time thing only, for an dire emergency.
MAX just shrugs.
MAGGIE looks towards the elevator, seeing the numbers flashing on the door above
the entrance to the nightclub. Her hand reaches underneath the table
just as the elevator opens and several dark-suited fully
armed men enter the nightclub. MAGGIE: Well, might as well play this out again.
Max nodded. A cigarette dangled from his
lips; he was leaning up against the wall as if posing. A gun hanging at his side and dark sunglasses on.
After all, got to look good. You never know who is watching this, he thought.
"Good," Dex replied, slinging the rucksack onto his shoulder. "Let's rock."
Dex picked up the baseball bat, his pride and joy, his signature weapon, and kicked the door open.
Max
glanced back at the rag-tag crew that he had recently teamed up with; a Shaolin monk who was a tiger at one time, a stubborn ninja who killed with
silent ease, a street punk with a bible fetish, and a huge street-savvy cop.
Is this my story that's unfolding? he thought. Or am I just a secondary character to one of them?
Max
could see the camera angle on the shot. His mind working in overtime,
he was going through an unscripted scene, but since this was only a
series of movies he felt as comfortable as James Bond. Because Bond was
always back in the next movie. Not always the actors who portrayed
Bond, but Bond himself.
If I am going nuts, I am going to go out in style.
Dex
led the way through the door, bringing that bat down on the head of the
first of the Mooks. Max could hear the crack of the Mook's skull.
They always die easy. Mooks are only extras who don't even know that they are pawns.
Max lay on his bed, sheets unfurled about him. He was hot and sweat
clung to his body like an LA smog. His arms crossed above his head,
staring upwards, watching a house fly crawl across the ceiling.
He was thinking that he should get up and get going, but he couldn't
remember where he was supposed to get to.
The fan by his bed was
steadily blowing the air on him, cooling the body but not the mind. His
brain, the size of Venus, was on standby waiting for the switch on the
power bar to be turned on.
He watched the fly take off from the
ceiling and head elsewhere, when suddenly it got caught in a
spider's web. The fly trying to break free, its wings fluttering fast,
pulling back, but in its attempt it alerted the web's creator.
Max
watched the drama unfold. The spider crawled from its hiding spot
to consume the blood of its victim. The fly sensing danger fluttered
faster but it was a futile effort. The web held it fast. The
spider began to pick up pace, but before it reached the target it
disappeared.
Max, still lying on the bed, had pulled out a gun
from behind a pillow. He was holding it skyward; smoke drifted from
the barrel as if it had finished a sexual encounter.
Wraith perched outside her window,
sitting on the edge and looking up at the night sky. Tears streaked down
her face as if an angel was painting on a canvas. It was after midnight
and she could hear the heartbeat of the city; it meant a lot to her,
knowing that the city was alive.
The wind caressed her like an
old lover as her midnight hair danced along the cool summer
breeze. She brought a tissue up to dry her grey eyes. She had never seen
a soul that was more messed up than Max. She was crying because she had
peered into a void of content and had seen the pain that he had gone through,
and the pain that was yet to come.
There was a ring. An old fashioned ring. The kind of ringing you hear when watching an old detective movie.
A
rotary phone sat on the ledge beside her; she didn't like
cellphones. She felt that it took something away from the
character; a portable monster that attached itself to your face and
sucked the time away.
Who really needs them, she thought as she picked up the receiver. Life is too short to be constantly chatting on a phone.
"Hello," she said. "Yes," she replied. "Okay."
She sat there several more seconds then hung up the phone.
She
could hear music from the apartment below her. The young lads below
liked to listen to some of the classic alternative music from the 70's;
bands like Nectar, King Crimson and Klaatu. Wraith commended them on
their taste of music. Which certainly fit the mood she was in.
Pretty George drummed his fingers along the table; he was humming along
with the radio tune. It was something old and classic. His cafe latte
arrived and was placed before him. He smiled at the waitress, who must have been in her late 50's, and she genuinely
smiled back.
Pretty George had a quality about him. The waitress' face went flush and her heartbeat picked up. His eyes locked with hers, showing warmth and
tenderness and promising a night of passion so intense that it could
melt the butter in 13 states around them.
"You can turn it off now, Pretty," Mags said as she sat in the seat across from him.
Pretty
chuckled, and the waitress looked at Mags. And for one instant Mags saw that the woman was intent on doing her harm, but that passed like a shadow from a small cloud. Mags shook her head and smiled;
Pretty had that certain charm about him. Potent, but too gentle to be creepy.
"Hello Maggie Mae," Pretty said.
"Let's cut to the chase, Pretty," Mags said. "Did you get the stuff?"
Pretty feigned disgust. "After all these years do you think I don't know what I am doing?"
"Of course not," Mags said. "Just that it was an unusual request, is all."
"That's
nothing unusual; it was easier than getting the sweat of Elvis
in a vial," Pretty said. He toed the bag underneath the table so that it
brushed Mags' leg. And she nodded.
Mags flashed him a smile and asked, "Sweat of Elvis?"
"It's
a long story," said Pretty as he brought his latte to his lips. Before
tasting what the aroma promised to be heaven, he added with a slight
wink, "I shall tell you some morning when you finally discard that
lugnut of a wingnut of yours."
MAX, wearing a yellow t-shirt with a Sunnydale High logo, runs through an underground parking garage. He's being chased by three men.
MAN 1: There he goes, he's rabbiting!
MAN 2: Damn you Cube, just stop!
MAX
glides behind a corner, his ipod headphones showing, flings open a
door and runs up a flight of stairs. He runs down a hall, gunshots fly.
He dives in an elevator as bullets riddle the insides. The doors close. He stands up and straightens his shirt and presses 13. After he presses
13 he hits the stop button. The elevator stops. He then hits 13 again. The doors
open to a bright light. The sound of techno music fills the elevator.
CUT TO NIGHTCLUB INTERIOR. MAX and MAGGIE sit at a table.
MAGGIE:
You sure it was Big Lo Pi? He's a real scumbag. I hope you didn't lead his thugs here, or else I am
going to kick your ass.
MAX gives MAGGIE a wink.
MAGGIE: Oh sweetie, don't tell me that you did.
MAGGIE looks towards the elevator, seeing the numbers flashing on the door above
the entrance to the nightclub. Her hand reaches underneath the table as the elevator opens and several dark-suited, fully
armed men enter the club.
MAGGIE: You're a real bastard. That's why I love you so much.
Lightning erupted, followed instantly by the crash of thunder. The storm
was right over top of them. Maggie
sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee sitting before her offering an
inviting aroma.
Max was pacing across the floor. Walking to and
from the window. His face as stoic as a statue. Maggie knew what it was, though; she had only seen him do this
once before. She opened her mouth to say an apology.
"It's not your fault and you know it," Max said.
Max
was in mourning; he had grown attached to Suki. She was like a kid
sister to him. She was killed trying to protect an injured Maggie.
Police Investigate Weird Accident Shooting by Hank Markins
BLUDRAVEN,
NY. (AP) - When police arrived at a West End neighbourhood to
investigate a possible homicide, they found a car wreck with what looked
like brain matter and blood on the front seat, dashboard and windows -
but no sign of the victim.
Police began searching around the
vehicle and discovered several gun shells scattered about. Police began
knocking on doors and a lot of the neighbourhood claimed to have seen or heard
nothing, except for Lunden Kallen.
Kallen was watching television when she heard a commotion and peered out of her window to see what was happening.
"First
of all, there was this flash of light and yelling and screaming," said
Kallen, an eyewitness to the event. "There was the fellow who stood on
the hood of the car firing round after round at this huge man behind the
wheel."
Kallen went on to say, "The car swerved off the road and
into the tree sending the guy on the hood onto the lawn there. And the
driver of the vehicle got out and was walking towards the man on the
lawn."
She describes the driver to be over six feet tall and wearing some kind of gorilla suit, with what looked like a diver's helmet on.
Kallen
doesn't know what happened next, since she was scared. She did notice that the man in
the gorilla suit seemed to be unaffected by the severe wounds that he
suffered.
Police are trying to locate the victim in the gorilla
suit, and a caucasian male in torn jeans and a yellow t-shirt with the
words Control Freak. If you happen to see them or have any information,
phone Bludraven PD.
