Tag Archives: xavier kage

Director’s Cut:Screenplay (2008)

*Note from the writer

I wrote this in my early 20’s, dismayed with toxic fandom,as I still am. I decided this was the story I wanted to tell, but not satisfied with it as something I would desire to film, until I did at least a few drafts of it. Still, it isn’t too bad of a story and so I am presenting it here. Sadly, the formating takes a hit. If It is enjoyed, I could possibly make the formated version for available someday.-Kage


Written by
Karl Richard

Two pre-teen boys, JASON and MICHAEL Strode, walk up to the box office.
A young TICKET SELLER, 20’s, sits reading a magazine, bored.
Jason hands the man money.
Two tickets to Frightmare, please.
The young man doesn’t break his concentration from his magazine, which is clearly more important.
Enjoy the show!
The two young boys hurry inside.
Jason and Michael take their seats, in the middle of the row as other patrons do the same.
Up on the screen, the projector starts.
They stare at the screen, mesmerized as they share pop corn back and forth. A SCREAM startles them, and they nearly drop their pop corn on the floor.
The pre-teen boys exit the cinema, excited about what they had just watched.
Oh my god! That was so cool the way he plunged the knife into her eye.
The other young boy nods in agreement with a smile on his face.
Man, I can’t wait until the second one.
Jason’s voice trails as they walk away.
Fade to black.
Superimpose: 15 years later.
Jason and Michael, now men, sit on a couch, eating take out Chinese.
On the tv, the words “Last Take” comes on the screen. A female reporter comes on the screen. Next to her, a box appears with a frighting image and the words: Frightmare underneath it.
It was fifteen years ago this month that a small, independent classic horror film, Frightmare was released to the world…
Hey, Mike, they’re talking about frightmare, turn it up.
Michael grabs the remote.
On the screen, the volume turns up and the woman’s voice gets louder.
Spawning 4 sequels and numerous ripoffs.
JASON (0.S.)
Come on, get on with it.
Now it looks like another
Frightmare film is in the works.
Jason and Michael high five one another, excited.
They look back at the tv to finish hearing the rest of the news.
FEMALE REPORTER (CONT’D) After 10 years, the studios have finally decided to remake the first frightmare…
The boys excitment fade, and they sink back into the couch.
Remake? Why the fuck do that?

Appretly they want to bastardize a really good film?
Jason motions to Micheal to hold up for a second.
On the screen a man, who could pass for an out law bikers, picture comes up.
Rob B. Former lead singer of the S.S. Lycan’s, has been tapped to head up the project, slated to shoot next month.
The two sit, mesmerized by what they are hearing, unable to movie.
FEMALE REPORTER (CONT’D) Rob B’s most recent film, the horror movie, Merry Gashmas, about a Killer Santa, was panned by critics as being too over the top and campy.
On screen, they show a clip from the movie, filled with terrible acting, dialogue and lighting.
Jason reaches for the remote and hits a button. The tv shuts off.
They sit, unable to speak for a moment.
This can’t be happening.
I know, and the fact they would hire a musican, of all people.
A terrible musican, at that.
Only one thing we can do about this.
JASON Kill Rob B?
No, I was going to say bitch on the internet, but I like your enthusiasm.
The both look over at the desktop computer.
It was your idea, you do the honers.
They walk over to the desktop and turn on the monitor. A search bar comes up and they type in “Frigtmare remake”
Tons of search results apper.
How to enlarge your penis…
He scrolls down more
Don’t quite messure up in the sack?
Goes through a few more
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Stop that bastard, Rob B from remaking a classic. Bingo!
He clicks the link and it leads him to the fourm.
What does it say. Micheal reads the post.
MICHAEL It wants people to sign the petition to get the remake stopped.
What good is that going to do?
Get the studio to consider stopping the remake or hiring a more competent director?
The studio is never going to listen to them, because it is all about making money.
Yes, but by threathing a boycott, they might see they stand to lose money.
What good has boycotting ever done?
You never heard of the Montgomery Bus Boycott?
JASON The what?
MICHAEL Nevermind.
JASON What else are people saying.
Micheal scrolls down the list of fourms.
Someone should send anthrax to the stuido…
Scrolls further.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) I hope that bastard Rob B gets nut cancer…
Scrolling down more.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Someone really should kill the the bastards behind this…
Scrolls again.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) I was just dumped by my boyfriend of 5 years, but then I signed up for…
Jason bends down, eye level to the computer.
What was that last one?

About being dumped by her boyfriend?
No, before that.
Someone should kill the bastards behind this.
Yeah, I like the sound of that.
What is with you and this killing people?
Jason ponders, taping his fingers together like a villian.
We would be heros of the internet if we could kill Rob B.
MICHAEL Why just him?
Because he makes other shitty films and then gets a chance to bastardize a classic.
What about the producers who get him the funding?
JASON They suck, too!
MICHAEL And the actors?
Nah, they are just doing their jobs, hired guns. Same goes for the crew.
So just higher ups should die?
Yeah, pretty much.
You have a sick mind.
Jason walks over into the kitchen like area that separates it from the living room with an island in the middle.
He looks through the kitchen draws and sees a huge KNIFE.
We could use this.
What are we, walking cliches?
A knifes a fuckin’ classic, man!
Yeah, if we where going to kill really hot teen girls. personally, I’d rather fuck em’
JASON Fuck Rob B?
No moron, fuck the teen girls.
Yeah, that would be fun.
Jason looks up at the sailing, pondering fucking the teen girls.
Micheal types at the computer.
JASON (CONT’D) What are you doing.
Signing our names to the petition.
I’m telling you man, that isn’t going to do a goddamned thing.
Micheal gets up and streaches.
Too late, we’re on it.
Michael heads over to the coat rack and grabs his coat, putting it on.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) I don’t know about you, but all this talk about murdering shitty directors has made me hungry.
Good idea, lets get a bite.
Jason grabs his coat and puts it on, too.
Hey, maybe we should call Chuck and Fred. They might want to hang out with us. Gives us all a chance to bitch over this movie ordeal.
Sure, we’ll call them on the way.
Jason and Micheal sit at a round table, finishing their lunch with CHUCK and FRED DAVIS, both in their 30’s.
There remaking frightmare? Those fuckin bastards.
A silence falls over the resturant, chuck has spoken loud enough for all to hear.
He looks around at the people looking at him and apologizes.
CHUCK (CONT’D) Sorry people, sorry. Go back to your double wrapped bacon heart attacks.
He leans over the table to Jason.
CHUCK (CONT’D) Fuck man, I can’t belive they are remaking that classic. Such a fuckin’ shame.
I know, right? I like the guy on the internet who suggested someone kill the director.

CHUCK I’m totally in!
Michael takes a sip from his drink.
FRED In on what?
Mikes and Jason’s plan to kill Rob B.
Micheal chokes on his drink and regains his composure.
There is no “plan” to kill Rob B. we’re not killing anyone.
Like you wouldn’t want too?
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Just because I hate the bastard, doesn’t mean I want to kill him.
Chuck looks back to Jason.
Your brother is in denial, my friend.
JASON I know.
Micheal shoots Jason a glance that could kill.
I’m not in fucking denial, I’m just not going to fuckin kill someone for a movie that hasn’t even come out yet. further more, we don’t even know this movie will be as bad as we think.
Chuck starts to laugh, getting louder and louder.
The restaurant is back to staring at him again.
He makes a cock sucking motion to an OLD WOMAN staring at him across the resturant, licks his lips and then winks.
She makes a disgusted look and moves to a different table.
Must you alienate people every time we go out?
Its what I’m good at.
That and miming a blow job, apparently.
Jelous that we’re brothers and I can’t show you my BJ skills?
You are demented, you know that? Like a fuckin’ A.D.H.D addled internet vlog reject.
CHUCK Fuck you!
Guys, please calm down. You’re scaring the straights.
To hell with it, I’m done with lunch anyways.
Chuck leans over, throwing out his trash.
I say we go back to your place Jason and discuss this plan to kill Rob B.
MICHAEL You really are a stupid fuck, aren’t you?
Chuck gives Michael the finger.
Jason, you game?
JASON Fuck yeah!
That settles it. to the geek cave!
He runs out the restaurant, causing a scene.
Micheal stands up.
Sorry about him, he has down syndrome.
The patrons nod as if it all makes sense now.
Michael and exit the restaurant.
The door unlocks and swings open, Michael, Fred, Chuck and Jason all pour inside, one after the other.
CHUCK You guys got any beer?
Check the fridge.
Chuck rushes over to the fridge, and swings the door open, digging around for beer.
I came all the way over here and all you have for me is light beer?
You live down the street, how do you figure you came all the way?
Shut the fuck up.
MICHAEL Choke on a dick.
Chuck grabs the six pack and shuts the fridge door. He walks over to a chair, and plops down, taking a beer and tossing the rest of the six pack to Micheal, who does the same. They pass the beer until they all have one.
Lets see whats on T.V.
Jason picks up the remote and tosses it to Chuck, who clicks the buttons a few times.
On the t.v. screen, the channels change, showing all types of random clips, they stop.
Oh, cool, the oringal Frightmare is on.
Yeah, but its edited.
But its still fun to watch.
No it isn’t. its like watching a neutered dog trying to lick its balls. Sad and Pathetic.
Chuck motions for them to be silent by bringing his finger to his lips.
Quiet, this is my favorite kill.
On the screen, the killer raises an axe, high above his head, and brings it down, hard. The scene cuts out the good gore.
Oh man, even edited that is fuckin’ hard-core.
You really are fuckin demented.
No, I just know how to use my imagination.
Doesn’t that require being able to think?
JASON Yeah, it does.
Ha ha, so fuckin’ funny. Even edited its still better than that piece of shit remake that is getting made.
Oh my god, get the fuck over it. Bitch about it online like the rest.
I can’t believe you man, I really can’t. Here you are, sitting idly by why they bastardize your favorite film.
I’m not sitting idley by, I sign the petition.
Ha, what good is that?
Michael picks up a throw pillow on the couch and tosses it chuck.
The impact makes chuck spill his beer all over him and sit up.
CHUCK (CONT’D) What the fuck man.
The group laughs at him.
CHUCK (CONT’D) Hey, fuck you faggot.
He tosses the rest of his beer at michael, who shields himself with another throw pillow.
Don’t be such an emo bitch.
Hey guys, quiet up for a second, there talking about the remake.
On the tv, the same female reporter shows up.
FEMALE REPORTER And as if our news report earlier tonight that rock musican, Rob B would be directing the remake to the classic horror movie, frightmare, then this news deffintly will.
Jason looks over to chuck.
Hey, turn it up.
Chuck turns the news up and their attention is back at the screen.
FEMALE REPORTER Reports are coming in that Rob B will not only be signing on to direct the remake, but will also be signed on to do two sequels as well.
The men sit, staring at the tv, almost numb.
What the fuck is this shit?
Ok, now I’m pissed.
Its all about the money.
No shit its about the fuckin money, why else do it?
You know what? I need some sleep, today has filled with bad news.
Yeah, thats a good idea.
Guess we’ll talk to you guys later.
Yeah, its been good.
Jason and Michael see Fred and Chuck to the door.
MICHAEL Later guys!
Michael shuts the door and leans up against, relieved that Chuck and Fred are gone.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Man, chick gets on my neves sometimes.
Don’t sweat it, man. That is just how he is.
Yeah, yeah. I’m going to bed, see you in the morning, bro.
JASON Night dude!
Jason walks off to his room.
Jason pulls back the covers to his his bed and lays down, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.
The CLOCK on his night stand reads 9:00 pm.
Slowly, time lapses as Michael stares upwards. Sunlight shines into the once dark room from the window.
The CLOCK now reads 9:00am.
Michael walks into the kitchen where Jason is making breakfast.
How’d you sleep?
MICHAEL I didn’t.
I sleep like a baby.
MICHAEL Lucky you.
Coffee is ready, help yourself. Breakfast is almost done.
Michael grabs a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a some coffee.
I was doing some thinking last night.
JASON About?
The remake that is happening.
Man, its just a movie, don’t let it bother you.
No, no, its not just a movie, its our childhood at stake.
Kinda dramatic, no?
The more I think about it, the more I realize you’re right.
JASON About?
MICHAEL Killing Rob B.
Dead silence fills the room as Michael’s words fill the room and penetrates Jason’s thoughts.
Jason stops making breakfast for a moment.
Are you serious?
Yeah, I think I am.
Michael stirs his coffee and takes a sip. Jason goes back to his eggs.
We’re not killers, though.
Sometimes, when you have to, killing is as easy as breathing.
But we don’t have to.
You where the one all excited for this the other day.
Yeah, but I wasn’t being serious. It was venting, you know. Sorta like the time we called in that bomb threat before the test.
Ah, idle threats. Good times.
Jason places the breakfast on couple plates and puts them on the island.
Michael takes a seat and tries the breakfast.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) This is good, needs some ketchup, though.
Jason retrieves the ketchup from the fridge, putting some on his eggs before handing it to Michael.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) We could do it, and get away with it.
No, we couldn’t. We’re film students. What have you ever killed in your life?
Micheal takes a sip of his coffee and scoops his food together.
I cooked a lobster, once.
Wow, stone cold killer right here.
Well, what the fuck have you ever killed?
JASON I shot a rabbit once.
Jason takes a bite of his breakfast.
MICHAEL Really,When?
That summer we stayed on gramps farm. I suck out, early morning, grabbed his rile and shot one dead.
What happened after that?
Gramps found me, in the woods, holding his rile, crying up a storm.
And you mocked me?
JASON Fuck you!
MICHAEL What happened to the rabbit?
Jason takes a bite, smiling to himself.
We had it for dinner that night.
MICHAEL You mean we?
Michael looks at his food, unable to finish.
That’s fuckin’ terrible, why did Gramps do that?
He said that not eating what you kill was a sin or some shit.
Gramps with his religious bullshit.
JASON I miss him, though.
Micheal nods his head in agreement.
JASON (CONT’D) I cooked, you clean.
Jason laughs and walks away.
Michael and Jason walk through the store, with a shopping cart in front of them, in the sporting good section.
Where do we even begin?
Ski mask might be nice.
JASON Ski mask?
Yeah, to conceal our identify.
Do you honestly think Rob B would even know who the hell we are?
Its not to protect our identity from him.
JASON Who from, then?
An old man walks by them as they push their cart down the asile.
Fuckin’ queers!
They push right past the old man.
Did you hear that geezer?
Yeah, but old people are ingnorat pricks like that.
Jason stops and looks at an item on the shelfs.
I’d like to kill that mutha fucker, first, as pratice.
Michael looks at Jason like he can’t believe what he just said.
MICHAEL Hes old as fuck.
So he’ll probably have a heart attack on the shitter tonight.
Old age is a bitch.
Jason stops and plays with the bow and arrow in the aisle. He pulls back on it, testing it out.
What are you, fuckin’ some kind of aging action hero?
Oh, come on, you know its awesome.
You don’t even know how to fuckin’ use one anyways.
How hard can it be?
Harder than just using guns.
JASON Guns have no flair.
But they are quick and do the job well.
They are a lot eaiser to trace, though. I’d perfer not to do time.
What do you suggest, then?
I don’t know, never really thought about it.
They stop at a rack with ski mask.
Jason picks up a black one and an oragae one.
JASON (CONT’D) Which color?
Do you seriously have to ask?
You tryin’ to stick out like a sore thumb as you are killing someone?
I just want to look cool.
We’re killing someone, not going to prom.
Jason pick up a couple black ones.
JASON How many?
Two, what do you think?
Just thinking that maybe we could use Chuck and Fred.
No chance in hell.
Jason looks at Michael with a come on, looks.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) No, no and…
Micheal and Jason sit around a table with Chuck and Fred.
Oh my god, this is so awesome. We’re gonna kill that prick director.
No, Jason and I are going to kill that director.
What the fuck am I going to do then?
You’re our outside guy.
What the fuck is that?
You are going to be the one who helps us find Rob.
From your place, though.
How the fuck are we going to keep in touch?
Michael picks up a bag under the table and pulls out two CB radios out and puts them on the table.
What the fuck are those things?
These are CB radios. They allows us to instantly keep in contact. Like walkie talkies.
Fuckin lame! Why not just use cell phones.
Because, they can trace cells, dipshits.
CHUCK What about CB?
CB is better, because they arent in wide use anymore. We’ll be able to use a channel to talk, pretty much in serect.
Whats the game plan?
Jason pulls a map out of his back pocket and unfolds it on the table.
Well, shooting begins next week, so we want to get there as fast as we can, to off Rob before he has a chance to fuck shit up.
Whats these other markings?
Chucks points to the RED DOTS on the map marking their route.
We’re going to have to make a couple stops along the way.
Practice killings.
Chuck looks puzzled.
Why not just pratice on animals before you go?
Because we’re not pop psychology clichés. We didn’t grow up with stripper mommies. Besides, I could never hurt a cute animal.
You did boil a lobster once.
Shut your fuckin’ face rabbit killer.
Jason folds the map back up and puts in back in his pocket.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) With luck, we should be in and out pretty fast.
What are you going to do to Rob when you find him?

We’ll teach him a lesson in horror he won’t soon forget.
The group all smile at one another, deviously.
Oh, before we forget, we go you two these.
Jason reaches into the bag that held the CBs and pulls out two bright orange ski mask, handing one to chuck and fred.
Oh, wow, fuckin’ awesome!
Chuck puts his ski mask on, be looks awkward in it, and they all have a good laugh.
Well gentleman, its time for bed.
Big day tomorrow, we need our rest.
Fuck yeah! Tomorrow, Rob B’s life shall be ticking down.
Chuck and Fred get up and head for the door.
We’ll see you tomorrow.
CHUCK Yeah, night.
JASON Night!
The door to the apartment shuts and Jason, Zombily walks back over to the couch, dead tired, and falls over on it.
His face, smooshes into the couch.
JASON (CONT’D) Murder, is so tiring.
We haven’t even killed anyone, yet!
I know, but planing it is tiring.
Having second thoughts?
No, are you?
Micheal comes off almost hesitantly, but confident in his answer.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) I guess I’ll try to get some sleep tonight.
Man, its like a kid at Christmas, I’m too excited to sleep.
Well, I’m tired as fuck, so night man.
JASON Night, dude!
Michael prys himself off the couch and drags himself into his room, even though he doesn’t seem to have the energy.
Michael’s bed is unkempt. Michael groggily walks over to it, and just falls over asleep.
Light comes through the window, illuminating the dark room again.
Jason comes bursting into Michael’s rooms, jumps on his bed and bounces around like a kid waking up his parents on Christmas.
Wake up, wake up, its road trip day!
Did you sleep at all?
JASON Yeah, a bit.
I feel like I didn’t get a damn wink.
Well, coffees ready
Jason hops off the bed and slaps Michaels’s ass.
JASON (CONT’D) Hurry up, sunshine!
Michael, exterting what little energy he has, pushes himself up to sitting position and stretches, as he gets off the bed.
Michael’s face is half clean shaven and half covered in shaving cream.
Michael slowly brings the RAZOR up his face, and nicks himself.
Blood runs from the CUT down his neck.
Michael reaches for some toilet paper and cleans the blood off him. he looks at his finger, a drop of blood got on it. Micheal takes a moment to look at it, amazed by it. He rubs it between his finger and thumb, feeling the texture.
He wipes his finger clean and continues shaving.
Jason stirs two cups of coffee behind the island.
Micheal sits down at the island and takes one of the coffees from Jason’s hand.
Have you ever taken the time to look at blood?
Jason takes a sip of his coffee, as he takes in the question.
JASON Yeah, its red.
No, I mean, really look at it. Feel its texture and consider how precious it really is.
Kinda heavy thinkin’, dont ya think?
It really makes you thinking about your own mortality, and how fragile life is.
Jason arches and eyebrow at Micheal, like he is crazy and sips his coffee.
Wow, you going to start dressing in all black now and going to goth rock concerts?
Fuck you, I’m trying to have a philisohical discussion here.
Save it, aristole.
A large van pulls up to the house, Chuck and Fred are inside. Chuck beeps the horn, wildly.
Jason looks out the window and sees Chuck blaring the horn.
Chuck and Fred are here, apparently alerting everyone to it.
Does he always have to make a fuckin’ scene?
Ask him when we get outside.
I have to do something, I’ll meet you outside.
Ok, hurry up dude. Man I can’t fuckin’ wait to kill this fucker!

Jason heads outside and Michael picks up a pen and pad of paper off the island and skirts over to the desktop computer.
He types in a search and starts to jot down notes.
Jason comes out, arms stretched out, as if asking what the fuck is wrong with you.
Chuck stops honking the horn and starts getting excited about something, talking to Jason with the window closed. Jason motions to Chuck that he can’t hear him.
JASON (CONT’D) I can’t hear you, you stupid fuck.
Jason motions for him to roll down the window.
Chuck looks puzzled.
His he motioning to me to jerk him off?
Not you fucktard, he wants you to roll the window down, because he can’t fuckin’ hear you.
Chuck opens the car door and get outside, with Fred following.
Look, we brought you our Van to use.
Fuckin’ a, awesome, dude!
Yeah it is. Just make sure to fill up the tank when you bring it back.
JASON Gee, thanks!
Hey, its the least you can do.
Micheal finishes up his writing and shuts the notebook, and heads outside.
Michael comes out the door, notebook in hand and stops, looking at the van.
What the fuck is this?
Chuck presents their van to them like he is a game show hostess.
Its our van, we’re going to let you use it for the trip.
Gee, and here I thought we where trying to be subtle.
Hey, I didn’t have to do this, you know.
Jason turns to Michael.
Plus hes being nice enough to let us pay for gas.
MICHAEL Wow, nice!
Fuck you two, either take it or leave it.
Whatever, we’ll take it.
Good. FYI guys, tanks half empty, your gonna have to fill it up on your way out.
Michael walks over to Chuck and slaps his face, gently, and pinches it in a grandmotherly way.
What would we ever do without you?
I don’t man, I don’t know.
Jason taps Chuck on the sholder as they move him out of the way to get into the van.
CHUCK (CONT’D) Man, you guys are livin’ the fuckin’ dream.
Whatever you say Chuck.
Michael fishes into his pocket as he gets in the drivers side of the van, and pulls out a set of KEYS. Michael tosses them to Fred, who catches them.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Make sure to lock up for me and keep an eye on our place.
FRED Sure thing.
And keep that tubby bastard out of trouble, will ya?
No problem, man. Oh, by the way, we signed that online petition thing last night. Just incase you two fail.
Thanks for the confidence boost man.
FRED Anytime, man.
Michael shuts the drivers side door and Jason climbs in.
Michael tosses Jason the notebook.
MICHAEL Here, hold this.
Off guard, Jason catches it.
JASON Whats this?
Michael starts up the car, brings it out of park and takes drives off the curb that Chuck parked on.
Its notes on whose where and when.
Open it up and read it.
Jason opens up the notebook. On the page is writing that says a bunch of names, job titles.
Roger Smith, producer, uh?
He is the closet on our trip.
Cool. So we’re really doing.
MICHAEL Fuck yeah we are.
JASON How far is it?
About an hours drive.
Really, that close?
Yeah, he is vacation in a small little resort town.
Sweet, lets gas up and go.
Roger Smith, well dressed, gets out of an expensive car as the valet takes his keys. He is on the phone.
I don’t give a shit what it takes, get it done.
He waits a moment.
ROGER SMITH (CONT’D) Uh-uh, fuck you too, buh-bye!
He flips the phone off and tucks it into his pocket.
ROGER SMITH (CONT’D) Fuckin’ prick.
Roger comes in from from the outside. A woman in restaurant uniform comes up to him.
UNIFORMED WOMAN Check your coat?
Roger takes off his coat and hands it to the woman.
Careful, its expensive.
UNIFORMED WOMAN We take the best care of all our customers coats.
ROGER SMITH Yeah, I bet.
The woman brings his coat over to other employee behind a counter, where other patrons coats hang.
She brings him back a ticket and hands it to him.
UNIFORMED WOMAN Just give this to the woman behind the counter on the way out.
ROGER SMITH Yeah, thanks.
UNIFORMED WOMAN The matradee will be with you shortly.
Roger is left alone, waiting for a few moment.
a female matradee, in black dress attire, comes from inside the restaurant.
Sorry for the wait sir, if you will follow me.
The matradee pulls a menu from underneath here reservation desk.
Roger stares at her ass, not hiding his gaze.
She looks back at him, unfazed that she is being ogled, as if its natural.
MATRADEE (CONT’D) This way, sir.
The waitress leads roger through the sea of patrons having lunch at the restaurant to a table in the back. The matradee pulls the chair out and seats him.
MATRADEE (CONT’D) Your waiter will be with you shortly.
She hands him the menu and leaves.
Jason stands at the pump, filling the van up with gas.
In the window of the store, Michael can be seen paying.
A waiter comes over to Rogers table, pen and paper in hand.
May I take your order, sir.
Roger glances over his menu once more real fast.
Yes, I’ll take the Filet mignon, well done. Side Salad, oil on the side.
The waiter takes down the order as it comes at him.
Anything to drink?
Roger Smith thinks to himself
A bottle of aged wine.
WAITER Yes sir.
The waiter takes the menu from Rogers hand and leaves him.
Jason waits in the car. The door adjacent to him opens up and Michael gets in.
MICHAEL Good news.
Yeah? Whats that?
We’re closer than we think.
JASON Really?
Yeah. I was talking to the guy inside, he said that if we take the back roads, we’ll be there in 45 minutes, versus an hour on the highway.
Sounds like a plan to me.
Michael starts up the van and they pull away.
The waiter brings out the wine to Roger. The waiter, pulls out the cork and hands it to Roger.
Roger sniffs the cork.
The waiter pours Roger a half glass.
Roger checks the consictincy, spins the wine in the glass and take a huge whiff. Finally, taking a sip.
To your liking sir?
ROGER SMITH Yes, thank you.
The waiter puts the wine into a bucket by the table.
Your food will be ready shortly.
Jason takes a bite of a beef jerky stick.
How are we supposed to know where this producer guy, is?
Michael looks at him, then at the road.
Look for the car that screams Hollywood douchebag.
In a resort town?
Sounds like a needle in a haystack to me.
Shut the fuck up and eat your beef stick.
The car takes a turn off the highway, onto a shoulder of road.
The waiter places Rogers plate of food in front of him.
WAITER Enjoy, sir!
Roger starts to cut into his steak, his phone vibrates. He takes it out of his suit jacket pocket and checks it. A text reads: Meeting tomorrow in Springwood, 9pm
Roger folds his phone back up and places it away, returning his attention back to his steak.
He starts to chew and stops. He motions for the waiter, who promptly comes back over.
WAITER (CONT’D) Anything wrong, sir?
I asked for the steak well done, this is medium-rare? You no compredne’?
I’ll have that fixed for you, right away sir.
Yeah, you better jose’
The waiter takes offense to the remarks, but remains hospitable.
A sign reads: Welcome to Haddonfield, pop. 5,804
The grey van, carrying Micheal and Jason zooms by it.
Jason touches Michael’s shoulder to get his attention as they pass the sign.
Michael glances at Jason then back to the road.
That guy at the gas station was right, we’re in Haddonfield all ready.
Excellent. We’re making good time.
The waiter brings back Rogers food, and lays it before him.
Here you go, sir. Hope it is more to your liking.
You know what, felepe’, its getting late, just bag it up and bring me the check.
The sun begins to set behind the mountain that overlooks the city from the north end.
Micheal and Jason’s grey van cruises into the down, which is quiet with very few people walking around.
The waiter hands Roger the doggy bag and takes the black try that with the money for his dinner.
Keep the change, Pepe’
The waiter looks down at the the check. It says: $200.50.
On top of the check, is two, crisp, hundred dollar bills and a one.
The waiter walks over to the cash resister.
(under his breath) Cheap fuckin’ bastard.
Over at the jacket counter, Roger hands his ticket to the young woman behind the counter. She hands him his jacket, he leans in towards her, whispering in her ear. She smiles, hes flirting with her, or sexually harassing her, depending on your perspective. If she was any younger, he’d be in Jail.
Roger exits the restaurant and hands the valet his car ticket.
The valet rushes off to retrieve the car, arriving back in seconds.
The valet exits the car, walks around and hands Roger the keys. No tip for him, or sexual harassment.
Roger gets inside his car, and slams the door shut.
Roger turns the ignition on.
Rogers bright red car spins its wheels, burning rubber, taking off.
As his car exits the restaurants parking lot, roger nearly crashes into a GREY VAN.
Michael and Jason jolt forward, nearly avoiding a collision with the car.
MICHAEL Mutha fucker!
Michael hits the horn, blaring it.
Rogers car comes to a stop, for a moment, his hand comes out of the window of Rogers car, flipping off Michael and Jason.
He takes off, again. His license plate pretty much the only thing visible as he speeds away. it reads: G80ne.
Michael and Jason take a moment to register what has just happened, a near fatal collision.
Did you fuckin’ see that?
Of course I fuckin’ saw it.
No, the license plate.
Michael takes a moment to think about if he saw the plate.
I don’t recall, I was too busy fuckin’ shitting myself.
It read:G80ne
Michael doesn’t say anything, its as if he has had an epiphany
His foot hits the GAS, speeding away.
Roger Smith struggles to keep his car on the road. Partly the icy roads, partly because of the wine he drank.
Rogers on the damn phone again, trying to keep the car straight.
Look, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you, I’m not budging.
Roger holds on while his ear is talked off by an undiscerable voice.
ROGER SMITH (CONT’D) I don’t care how good of an actress she is, she will never be in any of my movies.
Roger starts to lose control of the car, but regains it, FAST!
ROGER SMITH (CONT’D) No, it has nothing to do with the sexual harassment suit against me.
The grey van manages to keep its distance from the Rogers red car, so as not to alert him.
They come to a street with large, fancy houses. A rich neighborhood, the kind were no minorities are allowed. The type of neighborhood that displays it racism freely, in the context of tradition.
Rogers red car pulls into the driveway of a the largest house on the block.
The grey van continues to drive down the road, not stopping, until they go a little further past his house.
They park at the end of the sidewalk.
Michael shuts down the van, and they look out the back windows. They can see Roger, still on his cell phone, talking away as he walks up the drive way to his front porch.
We don’t make a move until he gets inside.
Jason nods his head in agreement and they watch and wait.
Roger shuts his cell phone down, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys.
He fumbles trying to put the KEY into the LOCK.
Through the back window, Michael and Jason continue to watch Roger as he bends over to pick up his keys and open his door.
Christ, hes drunk.
Yeah, makes our work even easier.
Roger finally gets his front door open and goes inside.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) He’s in, come on.
Micheal and Jason get out of their side, respectively, very quietly, softly shutting their doors.
They start to walk up towards the house from the end of the side walk.
What if someone sees us?
In this neighborhood? Everyone’s too busy in their own little bubbles to care, even if they did.
Yeah, but they might get suspicious because we don’t fit in here.
Nah. Only time they can tell something is amiss is when a minority comes on the block.
Jason moves his head as if to say “tu’che”
Roger places the food from his doggy bag on the plate. He crumples up the bag and tosses it into a waste container and misses, but he doesn’t care. He sits down at a fancy island in the middle of the kitchen, and carves his steak, cutting off a nice size piece to eat.
He takes the bite in his mouth and starts chewing as well as he can, for someone who is under the influence.
Michael and Jason walk up the drive way to the porch.
Out by the tree on the front lawn, is a AXE buried in a stump of wood with cut lumber around it, it catches Michaels eye.
Michael and Jason walk up the icy steps to the front porch, pulling their ski mask out of their back pockets.
You ready for this?
I think so
You knock on the door, and I’m gonna head around back.
MICHAEL On the count of three…one…two…
They both put on their ski mask.
Michael heads down the steps, and Jason musters up the courage to knock on the front door.
The AXE that had once adorned the stump is gone.
Jason knocks on the door.
Roger hears the knock and doesn’t hide his annoyance.
Through the food in his mouth, he tries to talk.
ROGER SMITH I’m comming, hold on.
Roger reuctaly pulls himself away, chewing on the lump of steak like it was chewng tobacco all the way to the door.
A figure stands behind the frosted glass, but he can’t discern it.
He opens the door. Jason stands their with his mask on.
Roger is taken aback as Jason pushes him inside. Roger tries to sallow, but the food gets caught in his throat. Jason pushes roger into the kitchen.
Roger starts gasping for air, motioning to his throat. Jason looks around, not sure what to do.
From behind, Michael runs into the kitchen, raising his AXE high in the air.
Rogers eyes widen in horror as he his choking to death.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
I don’t fuckin’ know, he just started gasping for air and reaching for his neck.
I think hes choking.
JASON What do we do?
Michael paces for a moment and they take off their ski mask. Jason grabs his hair, nervous.
Give him the Heimlich
JASON We’re gonna save him?
Just fucking do it.
Jason gets behind roger in the Heimlich position as Michael watches from the front.
A man is walking his dog up the street. He stops as he comes to Rogers house. In the window, he sees Jason, pumping Roger from behind, trying to save him. Rogers head bobs down in front of Michael each time.
The dog yelps at the scene, knowing something is amiss.
DOG WALKER Fuckin’ queers
He tugs at his dogs leash.
DOG WALKER (CONT’D) Come on precious.
The dog follows its owner, reluctantly.
The large chuck of beef shoots out of Roger’s mouth into Michael’s face.
He scraps it off, disgusted by it.
Jason lets go of roger and he falls to the side, trying to catch his breath.
JASON We saved him.
Yeah, guess we did.
Roger rolls over, breathing heavy. He looks at the two boys. Michael takes his AXE and raises it above his head, bringing it down on Roger. Hacking away, chop after chop. Blood flies on the boys faces and Jason is watching in horror at what his brother is doing. Finally, Michael stops, and catches his breath. the AXE HANDLE sticks up in the air.
What the fuck did you just do?
He saw us without our mask
We just fuckin saved his, he owed us one. we could of gotten him to stop the movie.
He never would of agreed to that, besides, we caused the choking. It was the only thing left to do.
Jason grabs his hair again, panicking.
Fuck man, fuck! Now we’re in deep.
MICHAEL thats always been the point.
Michael grabs the AXE HANDLE, pulling it out of rogers back. Blood drips off the end.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Now comes the tricky part…cover up.
JASON Cover up?
Yeah, so we don’t get caught.
How the hell we gonna do that?
Michael walks over to the oven and checks it out.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Electric fuckin stove?
He pounds the top of the stove, frustrated.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Who the fuck uses and electric stove?
Whats wrong with electric?
Means we can’t blow the house up and make it look like an accident.
Michael rushes into the living room, Jason stays behind in the kitchen. On the floor, he sees Roger’s CELLPHONE and picks it up, cleaning off the blood.
The PHONE virbates in his hand, a text comes in, he checks it out.
The TEXT reads:meetings been moved back to Wed. 11pm. Rob B will be comming up, scouting loc.
Jason walks into the room Michael is in. Still looking at the cell.
Michael is fiddling with the fireplace.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Help me, will ya?
Jason places the cellphone into his pocket and steps over to Michael.
What are we doing?
MICHAEL Making a fire.
I can’t open up the fireplace, though.
Jason looks to his right and sees a lever. He pulls it.
The FIRE PLACE opens up. Something falls down the chimeny into the FIREPLACE, causing a bunch of black dust to form in the air. Michael and Jason become covered in the black soot, their faces, pure black as well.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) That sucked.
They both blink a couple of times to get the smoot of their eyes.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Pass me on of those long matches, will ya?
Jason grabs one of the long matches that is in a golden holder to the side of the fireplace.
Michael scratches the head on the side of the fireplace, made from brick.
The match head ignites.
Michael throws it onto the wood in the fireplace.
A firestarts up, its unruly. A flame jumps from the fire onto the shag carpeting of the living room.
The fire starts to spread quick.
Michael and Jason start to freak out a little bit, but not badly.
JASON (CONT’D) Shit dude, its spreading like a brush fire.
I fuckin see that.
Should we stop drop and roll
Thats only if you’re fire.
Jason and Michael run back into the kitchen.
Jason trips over the body of Roger.
Michael stops and turns around, he heads back and helps Jason up. They rush out the front door together as thick black smoke follows.
The glass shatters and flames pour out the windows.
Michael and Jason hit the snow, and take a breather.
They watch as the house burns.
ROGERS NEIGHBOOR, 50’S, walks over to the window in his bathrobe, drink in hand.
The little dog barks at the window, franticly.
ROGER’S NEIGHBOR Hold on baby, I’m coming.
Roger’s neighbor picks up his dog and looks at the window.
The neighbor sees the house, now engulfed in flames, as Michael and Jason rest on the lawn.
Roger’s neighbor lets the dog down, who barks at the window.
Roger’s neighbor crosses the living room and picks up one of those old rotary phones.
ROGER’S NEIGHBOOR (CONT’D) 911? There is a fire next door.
Jason and Michael are still breathing heavily on the snow banks, when the sounds of sirens fill the night air.
MICHAEL Fuck, lets go.
They get up off the lawn and sprint over to the van, hurring inside.
Jason is barley in his seat with the door open, when Michael starts up the ignition and takes off.
The van takes a sharp turn around the cornor.
The door on Jason’s side sams shut from the sharp turn.
JASON Fuck man!
Jason breaths heavily, looking at michael who is so happy.
What the fuck is up with you?
We did it, we fuckin’ did it.
Jason slips his seatbelt on.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) What a fuckin’ rush!
Outside fireman hold house connected to their truck, trying to fight the flames. Police man make barrirers to keep the crowd of onlookers away, while and ambulance is parked, waiting to help anyone that might be inside.
A news crew shows up to take shots of the fire that is now out. They set up at an angle to get shots of the firetrucks and police cars in the back round.
A man places a heavy camera on his shoulder.
CAMERA MAN Ready Cindy?
Cindy Watkins messes with her hair real fast,pulls her dress down and hold the microphone close to her.
CAMERA MAN We’re on.
(to the camera)
In what was a complete shocker today, a large house fire has shaken up the small resort town of haddonfield.
The camera man pans to show the the chared remains of the house, then brings the focus back to Cindy.
Behind Cindy, Roger’s neighbor stands behind her, still in his bathrobe, holding his dog.
Cindy walks up to man.
Excuse me, may we have a word with you?
The man turns around and looks at the camera, unsure what to make of it all, but he nods his head in agreement.
Michael pulls the van over on the side of a small snow bank.
Jasons side is closest to the bank, he gets out, but the door hits the snow. He forces the door open.
Michael gets out of his side, and struts around the van.
Jason takes a double handful of snow and rubs it on his face, removing the soot.
Michael leans up against the back side of the van, smiling, he takes a deep breath, waiting for his turn.
The air smells so…diffrent.
I don’t think so.
You also didn’t just kill someone.
No, but I watched you revel in it.
You should do the next one. I’m telling you, it will make you feel amazing.
I’ll think about it.
Whats to think about?
Jason backs away from the snow bank and gets back in the van.
Michael quickly uses the snow to rub his face clean and enters the van.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) I’m starting to feel like you’re not into this?
I don’t know if I am.
MICHAEL It was your idea.
Well, it sounded good on paper.
We’ll, we can’t do anything about it. We have to see the plan through.
What if I don’t want to?
What you going to do, bail on me? Bail on your brother?
No, I don’t want to bail.
Then whats your problem?
JASON You are.
Michael is taken aback by his statment, unsure how to respond.
How the fuck am I the problem?
Because of how much you’re enjoy this.
Excuse me for feeling alive.
JASON Fuck you.
You can’t stand to see me happy.
On,come on. That is total bullshit.
Why you really upset then?
Jason looks a the ground and takes a moment, looking for the courage to speak.
This was sopoused to be a road trip, and the only killing was sopused to be Rob B.
MICHAEL Yeah, so?
We’re becoming seriel killers.
No, we’re not. We’re just offing a bunch of asshole.
We’re does it stop?
I’m afraid we’re gonna get too far involved, I’m afraid we’re going to cross a line, and enjoy this too much. I’m afraid, we’re not gonna stop.
This is some drug, Jason. Its murder. We’re not going to end up with some unquenchable blood lust.
You make it sound so easy.
You make it sound so cold and calculating.
JASON Isn’t it?
the two stop talking. The van fills with dead silence.
Michael starts the van, and pulls out.
Cindy Watkins finishes up her interview with Roger’s Neighbor.
Thank you for your time sir.
The camera man turns the camera around, standing by a police crusier, is a man in a brown trench coat, mutache and short hair. 40’s, tired looking.
CINDY WATKINS (CONT’D) Excuse…uh, uh?
One of the nearby POLICE OFFICERS steps in front to keep Cindy away.
Lady, Dective Walhberg doesn’t want to answer any of your questions.
Please dective, 5 minutes of your time.
Dec. Walhberg takes a sip of coffee, and sighs.
Let her go, she can have 5 minutes.
The police officer backs away and joins a couple other officers keeping tabs.
Cindy Watkins snaps her fingers at her camera man to turn his attention over to her.
She fixes herself, and takes a deep breath.
The camera man points to her to go.
CINDY WATKINS Joining me is dective Walhberg of the Haddonfield police department. Tell me, detective, do you feel this fire was an accident?
Detective Walhberg places his arms on his hips, looks at the camera and then back at the mic.
No, no we don’t. We have reason to suspect foul play.
Intrigued by what the detective just said, Cindy becomes more attentive.
Can you give us a possible motive?
DEC.WALHBERG No, no we can’t. at this time, we’re usure as to what we’re dealing with here.
Detective Walhberg then places his hand on the camera, turning it away from him.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) Thats all I have to say.
From behind Cindy, a paramedic is wheeling out a body.
CINDY WATKINS And as this drama contiunes to unfold, we’ll keep you updated.
Cindy makes a motion to kill the camera.
(to the camera man)
Ok, I want to start the report with the detective and then come in with the eyewitness report, got that?
The camera man runs over to the news van to upload the footage.
Jason lays his head against the window, looking out it. Michael concentrates on the road.
JASON Where we goin’?
MICHAEL Heading south.
JASON What for?
Rob B lives down south.
He’s comming here.
What do you mean, comming here?
Hes comming to our state, to scout locations.
Michael puts a halt on the breaks, jerking the van forward, a bit.
How the fuck do you know that?
Read the text on the cell phone of the guy we just killed.
It said they where comming here, are you positive.
Yeah, they are coming to Springwood for a meeting and Rob’s comming up scouting locations.
Where are they staying?
I don’t know, probably the most expensive hotel in Springwood, which leaves only one that comes to mind.
Right, right. What about Rob?
I read a couple years ago that he has a Cabin around here that he stays at when he comes up, hunting.
Yeah, no shittin’
Michael starts to drive again and then bangs a u-turn right in the middle of the street.
JASON (CONT’D) Dude, what the fuck?
MICHAEL Chill out.
JASON I am chill.
Whatever. So, Springwood is about an hour and a half past Haddonfeild.
JASON Yeah, so?
So, we’re about a half hour away from Haddonfield now. Which means we’re two hours Springwood.
You’re not gonna drive the whole two hours, now, are you?
No, no…we need to rest. I saw a small hotel on the way out, a place where we can sleep and lay low for the night.
Wake me when we get there.
A group of STREET OFFICERS are all sitting at desk, like you had in middle school, talking amonst themselves, waiting on Detective Walhberg at the front of the class.
Detective Walhberg finishes a sip of his coffee and stands in front of a blank black board.
Ladies and gentleman, listen up.
A silence falls on the officers and fast.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) We have an arson/homocide on our hands and no real leads.
The parkin lot of the place is empty, no one is staying here. It is called the Royal motel, but its more of an ironic nickname, given that the place looks like it hasn’t been renovated since the 70’s, one might rather sleep in there van then trust this little redneck hole in the wall.
Michael pulls the van into the parking lot.
The neon sign is glowing, the word no, flickers filled with light every so often, while the words vacancy stays lit.
Michael gets out of the van, while Jason is asleep in his seat.
He walks on over to the front door of the motel, which is no more than a couple feet from his van.
Michael pokes his head in the front door, no one is in sight. The place looks like it was decorated years ago. a moose head sits above the entrance to the back room. Michael is heitant to enter, but does so regardless.
Michael walks in, slightly tripping on the entrance, but he doesn’t fall over.
On the counter, sits a BELL, Michael’s HAND comes down on it, raining it for whoever, or whatever might be around.
From the back emerges a red-neckish type, geek of a MOTEL MANAGER, complete with wife beater and flannel.
MOTEL MANAGER Can I help you, boy?
Yeah, I need a room, for two.
MOTEL MANAGER I’m gonna need you to sign the guestbook.
The motel manager bends behind the counter and grabs a white book, with a bit yellow from age. He opens it to the front page, and places it on the counter and turns around to fetch a room key.
On the wall sits a key rack, filled with keys attached to blue key chains with gold numbers on them. All 12 keys are there.
The motel manager reaches for key number six, but stops for a moment, and then grabs key number one.
Michael signs the guestbook, he smiles to himself in satisfaction.
The motel manager places the key on the counter and turns the book around to him.
MOTEL MANAGER (CONT’D) Welcome, uh, chuck.
Michael greets his welcome with a smile.
MOTEL MANAGER (CONT’D) You’ll be in room number one. Check out is 10 am.
The motel manager hands him the key.
MOTEL MANAGER (CONT’D) Have a nice night.
Michael walks out of the motel, spinning the room key on his finger.
On the passengers side, Jason is asleep, drooling. Michael knocks on the window, startling Jason. Jason opens the door to his side.
What the fuck, man?
MICHAEL I got us a room.
I think I’d feel safer in the car.
Shut up and come on.
Jason follows Michael over to room one and they unlock the door.
From outside, Michael and Jason look around the room. It looks like a time warp to a different time. The room is clean, but it defiantly hasn’t been used in a long time. Michael’s and Jason’s face drop. Not exactly what they had longed for, but it would have to do.
Neither one is in a hurry to get into the room, Michael ends up stepping in first. Slowly steping in, as if it where the moon landing.
Jason watches and sees nothing bad has happened to Michael, so he comes in, too, and runs over to a bed, jumping on it like a kid.
He lands on the bed, smack in the middle, the bed makes an odd sound, like no one has been on the bed for years, a goan, almost, and a cloud of dust comes up, making Jason cough.
JASON Great place.
Jason swings his feet onto the bed. Michael, slowly, lays down on his bed.
JASON (CONT’D) Want to see whats on?
Jason grabs the remote from the bed stand and turns on the tv.
On the screen, a news reporter comes on. He is male, and in his late fifties.
The small down of Haddonfeild has been shaking up tonight from the results of a arson, homocide resulting in the death of famed movie producer, Roger Smith.
Jason and Michael look at each other in disbelief.
Back on the tv, the anchor contiunes to set up the clip.
MALE ANCHOR (CONT’D) Smith was the producer of many legendary films of the 60’s and 70’s and had recently produced the remake to the cult horror film “Frightmare” which is slated to start filming soon, with director Rob B, soon to be scouting out locations around the area of Haddonfield.
Jason takes the remote and turns the T.V. Up a bit, so to catch the rest of what the anchor has to say.
MALE ANCHOR (CONT’D) We go now to reporter Cindy Watkins, who was on the scene tonight.
The clip plays up, showing Cindy standing in front of the camera.
CINDY WATKINS Its been a wild night for this small down. Shaken by a fire and a homicide. We spoke with Detective Walhberg, to get his thoughts on the situation.
The video cuts to the interview with the detective.
Detective Walberg hands out paperwork to the officers.
What we know, is that their is two suspects, both similar to each other. We believe them to possible be brothers.
The police officers go over their paperwork.
One OFFICER, raises his hand.
The Officer puts his hand down.
Are we considering the suspects to be armed and dangerous?
DEC.WALHBERG No, they are not armed, but consider them with caution. They have all ready killed once tonight, and could do so again.
Another OFFICER raises her hand.
Is this description, right?
On the tv, the interview with the detective finishes up.
The detective declined to talk any more on the subject, but we did manage to find and eyewitness…
Cindy’s words trail off into the distance. John and Michael are turning pale, afraid of what is to come.
On the screen, the interview with the eyewitness cues up.
CINDY WATKINS (CONT’D) You say you saw two suspects flee the house after it caught fire.
ROGER’S NEIGHBOOR Yes ma’m, I did.
Could you give us a description of what the two looked like?
ROGER’S NEIGHBOOR Yeah, they where both about 5’10,
180 or so lbs and they where black.
ROGER’S NEIGHBOOR Yes ma’m, very unusal to have the afro-americans commin’ round in this neighborhood unless they is causing trouble, but I distinctly saw two black men.
Cindy looks at the camera, unsure if she should continue.
And back to you in the studio.
Jason clicks off the TV, they both sigh with relief.
Wow, that was close.
MICHAEL Oh yeah.
Jason clicks off the T.V.
I’ve got to take a leak
He bounces up off the bed, and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door.
Detective Walherg holds up a composite sketch of the “alleged perps”
On the sheet is two pictures of what looks like white guys in black face.
The entire force erups with laughter.
DEC.WALHBERG All right, settledown.
The laughter starts to subside.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) Regardless of what the old coot gave for a description, what we are clearly looking for is slightly different, so take out a pen and write this down.
All the officers are at attention now, pens in hand, looking down at their papers.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) What we’re looking for, is two white suspects. Possible wearing black face paint…
The police snicker.
Lets be mature about this, people.
The small sound of snickers subsides.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) Thank you! Now, it is possible that they are related, same height, weight is possible, too!
The police finish their writing and just sit there.
(clapping his hands)
Come on people, chop chop. Go find me some suspects.
The room clears out, the Detective is last to leave.
Jason zips his pants back up, and flushes the toilet.
He turns on the sink, and washes his hand, grabbing a towel from the rack and drying his hands.
From a hole in the wall, an unknown figure spies on Jason as he washes his hands. Heavy breathing is heard.
The figure watches Jason all the way until he leaves the room.
Jason’s comes into the room, and hops on the bed. It makes a stiff groaning noise.
Michael is laying down, thinking.
Damn it, now I’ve got to take a shit.
Thats too much information
Like you sharing about you urine wasn’t?
JASON Thats diffrent.
Michael shakes his head and crosses over into the bathroom.
He takes down his pants, and shits down. Hasn’t even shut the door yet.
Hey, you think you could go see if the front desk has any adult reading material.
Jason faces away from the door, this is one conversation he doesn’t want an eyeline for.
Oh, come on, seriously?
What the fuck for?
Because I like to read while taking a massive shit, that is why.
Jason sighs, and gets up off the bed.
Man, you owe me one.
MICHAEL Yeah, yeah.
Michael finally shuts the bathroom door, and concentrates at the task at hand.
Through a peephole, Michael is seen taking a shit. The same heavy breathing is still present.
Jason walks in the front door, it is eerily silent.
JASON Hello?
No response. Jason walks up to the front desk and looks to see if anyone is around out back.
Michael is seen waiting for Jason to get back with his reading material,he taps his fingers on his thigh.
Jason walks around the front desk, looking for any signs of the motel manager, but he doesn’t find it. Instead, the back is filled with creepy stuffed animals, mainly birds, but a few squrriels and other rodants.
On the wall sits a double barrel shot gun, on a mount.
Jason takes down the the gun to look at it.
He opens it, two shells rest inside.
Jason shuts it, intending to put it back, when a loud noise turns him to swing around, gun first.
Still no sound. Jason presses onward toward the private room out back.
Jason checks both sides of the door, with the shotgun, making sure no one is going to jump him.
He proceeds inside, slowly.
The room is pitch black, Jason can’t see even two feet in front of him, but he looks around anyways.
From a hole in the wall, Jason sees a small amount of light pouring in. He crosses over to it, being careful not to bump into anything.
Jason slowly gets down on one knee and peers through the hole. Inside the hole, Jason can make out a figure, masturbating to something. Jason’s eyes widen, he knows what is going on.
Jason rips off, alerting the perve that he has been caught.
The perve doesn’t make a sound, stunned he has been caught, like deer in headlights.
Jason wraps his hand around his mouth, pulling him out.
The figure struggles in the dark, as Jason pulls him into the the taxidermy room.
Jason comes in, draging the man by his head. Jason tosses him into the light, reveling to him the motel manager.
What kind of sick fuckin place do you run here.
The motel manager gets on his knees, crying, hands folded.
MOTEL MANAGER Please don’t hurt me, I wasn’t going anything queer, I promise, I was just looking.
Jason takes aim with the shot gun he’s been carrying around. He looks down his sights.
The man is praying now, hoping for sympathy from Jason.
Jason brings the gun down.
The motel manager is unsure what is going on, he slowly starts to get up.
MOTEL MANAGER (CONT’D) Thank you…thank yo..
Jason bashes the motel manager in the face with the end of the shot gun. Blood flies everywhere.
On the floor, the motel manager holds his nose, it is gushing blood, teribly broken.
MOTEL MANAGER (CONT’D) Oh god, no, please, no…
The motel manger tries to crawl away from Jason, but there is no place for him to go.
Jason steps right over him, rasies the gun barrel.
Underneth, the motel manager tries to sheild himself from the blow.
Jason brings the gun barrel down hard, blood files up into the air. Again, jason strikes hard, he does it serval more times, get faster with each blow,then stops, he looks down at the motel manager.
The motels managers body is lifeless and bloody.
Jason is still holding the gun up high, contemplting if he should hit a dead body one more time for good messure, takes a second and then, out of frustration, he smashes the body one more time.
Michael tosses the towel into the bathroom sink, and crosses over into the main part of the room.
The door opens, and in steps a Jason, somber from the muderder he just commited, face covered in blood splatter.
What the fuck happened to you?
Jason wears a look of “not right now” on his face, but he sighs.
The fucking motel manager, man. He was spying on us, in the bathroom.
Yeah, fuckin’ perv.
You’re covered in blood.
Jason looks into the mirror on the nightstand, then rushes over into the bathroom.
Michael turns around to talk to him, even though the door obstructs his view as Jason bends over to wash his face in the sink.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) So what are we gonna do?
Jason grabs the towel and dries his face.
We’re not going to burn the place down, thats for sure.
Jason comes back into the room with Micheal.
Michael smiles at him, Jason knows something is up.
MICHAEL Exhilarating, isn’t it?
Jason tosses the towel onto the bed.
JASON What is?
MICHAEL Killing someone.
He was being a perv, its not like I killed him in cold blood, he was creepy.
Keep trying to justify it, all you want, but murder is murder.
Fuck you, this was different.
Just admit, you enjoyed killing him.
JASON What if I did?
That would make you a hyocrite.
Yes, I enjoyed killing the subhuman piece of shit who got off to watching us use the restroom.
Doesn’t it feel better to let it all out?
Michael places his arm around Jason’s shoulders, pulling him close, like a father would a son when he is proud of him.
(mock crying)
My little boys grown’ up.
Jason shrugs Michael off him.
JASON We can’t stay here.
Why not, we’re out in the fuckin’ boonies, no one will stop here, ever.
There is always the chance.
Nah, I don’t thi…
The sound of a cell phone interupts their conversation.
Michael and Jason freeze, looking around.
What the fuck is that noise?
JASON I don’t…
Jason gets a look of oh, shit, I totally forgot on his face and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cell phone.
JASON (CONT’D) Fuck, I totally forget I took his cellphone.
You stuipd fuck, what if they trace us.
Fuck you! If you hadn’t wanted my help to burn the fuckin’ place down, then I wouldn’t have placed it in my pocket.
Why the fuck did you take it in the first place?
Because he got a text, remember?
MICHAEL yeah, but I didn’t think you took his fuckin’ cell phone.
It was a fuckin’ accident, all right?
Whatever, whats it doing now?
The phone vibrates in his hand.
JASON Text message.
Michael rocks back and forth, impatinaly.
Well, what the fuck does it say?
The flights are delyed for all but Rob, who’ll be landing in a couple hours.
I wonder what airport he is coming into.
Michael scratches his chin.
Well, his cabin is in Springwood, which is only about a two hour drive from Lake View, which has the airport adjacent to it.
Michael and Jason both look at each other with a stroke of genius.
We can beat him to his cabin.
Only problem is, we don’t know where his cabin is.
We still got the radios?
JASON In the car.
Michael smiles.
A plane lands on the runway.
ROB B. Sits with a HALF NAKED WOMAN on his lap.
So why do they call you Cherri Sky?
He leans over to wisper in his ear.
Rob’s face grows surprised by what she is saying
ROB.B Really?
His face now takes on a looked of shocked, then intrigued.
Name well deserved.
You’ve ain’t seen a thang, yet, sugah.
Rob B. Winks at her and then slaps here ass, she jolts off his lap.
Save that enthuisam for the flight back.
Cherri sky frowns.
CHERRI SKY Can’t I come with?
She emphisases the word cum, as she bends over, putting her boobs in his face.
ROB. B Oh, fine.
She kisses him.
CHERRI SKY You won’t regret it.
ROB. B I better not.
Michael has a radio in his hand, static comes out of it, until he presses the button on the side.
Papa bear to baby bear, you read me, over.
Static comes back, michael waits a moment, before pressing the button again.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Papa bear to baby bear, do you read? Over!
Static comes through, but then it clears up.
Dude, stop with the bear shit. Its fuckin’ 11p.m. I’m tryin to rest.
We need your help.
CHUCK (0.S.) With?
We need the location to Rob. B’s cabin in Springwood.
Why the fuck would I have that?
Mutha fucker, look it up on the internet.
Static comes back, a few moments pass.
CHUCK (V.0.)
Yeah, I found it, easily enough, which is odd. So much for privacy.
Spare us the commentary, just tell us the location.
CHUCK (V.O) Yeah, its.
Cherri Sky downs champagne straight from the bottle.
So, we’re we headin’?
Rob b. Seems to almost cringe at her high pitched, southern voice.
Up to Springwood. Its a small town. My cabin is on the outskirts, so no one will bother us.
Cherri takes a sloppy drink from the champange bottle, some of it spills down her front, but she doesn’t care, he finishes the bottle, then gets on Robs lap, giving him a big, wet kiss.
I-I-can’t wait (hiccup)
To be alone with you.
She lays her head on his chest, and closes her eyes.
Michael shuts the radio off.
Looks like we have our destination.
What do we do about the motel?
MICHAEL Burn it?
JASON No, no burning.
Hey, its our M.O. Now.
He smiles a shit eat grin.
M.O.? We don’t need a fuckin’ M.O.
MICHAEL Shut the fuck up.
No, we are not going to burn the place down.
The motel is ablazed while the white van pulls out of the parking lot.
Jason facepalms himself.
I can’t fuckin’ believe we set another place on fire.
Will you shut the fuck up with that.
We have a about a two hour drive to Springwood, trust me, you’ll hear more about it before the night ends.
Michael rolls his eyes and pays attention to the road.
Jason reaches into his pocket and pulls out the cellphone.
JASON (CONT’D) Oh, god damnit!
Michael glances over and sees the cellphone.
You forgot the fuckin’ phone, again?
Once again, we where too busy being arsonist on top of murderers.
Toss the fuckin’ thing out the goddamned window.
JASON What good is…
Toss the goddamned thing
Jason rolls down his window as fast as he can and tosses the cellphone out the window.
The cellphone sails through the air, landing on a SNOWBANK.
The department is almost silent for the night, except one phone rings in the way back.
A UNKNOWN OFFICER answers the phone.
UNKNOWN OFFICER Haddonfield Police Department…how may I help you?
The officers face grows concerned. He takes a pen from his pocket and a pad of paper, writing as he listens.
UNKNOWN OFFICER (CONT’D) Ok, thank you for calling.
The officer hangs up in a hurry and walks over to a room where their is light.
The unknown officer walks into the room, Dec. Walhberg looks up.
Detective, I just got a report that a small motel was set ablaze about 20 minutes ago, sir.
Did they find anyone dead?
UNKNOWN OFFICER fire department has all ready responsed to it, and our men are on waiting to investigate.
DEC.WALHBERG Ok, I’m on my way.
The firemen spry the charred remains of what is left of the motel. It is no longer on fire, but it is no longer a motel, either.
An unmarked police car pulls into the parking lot of the small motel.
Dectective Walhberg gets out of the car and an officer hurries over to him and starts to brief him.
OFFICER # 3 Sir, we found a body among the remains of the fire.
DEC.WALHBERG Who was he?
Unknown, so far, sir. We sent the body with the cornoner to find out more. It is belived to be the motel manager, though.
Detective Walhberg takes a sip of his coffee.
Did you find anything else?
OFFICER # 3 We found this cellphone in the snowbank about 10 feet away.
The officer holds up a bag marked evidence, with the cellphone inside, still turned on.
DEC.WALHBERG Whose cellphone?
Belonged to Roger Smith, the victim from eailer tonight.
Detective Walhberg takes the bag out of the officers hands and brings it over to a squad car that has a light shining on it.
He places his coffee on top of the squad car, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rubber glove, putting it on.
The opens the bag and carefully takes out the cellphone with his gloved hand.
The detective looks at the cellphone, intently.
OFFICER # 3 (CONT’D) Find anything?
The very last thing that appers on this phone is a text, which has been read.
Whats important about that?
Well, it seems that our arsonist, slash, murderers, are also into invasion of privacy, and it might be a clue as to where they are heading.
Detective Walhberg places the phone back in the bag.
DEC.WALHBERG (CONT’D) Do me a favor. Find out where the director Rob. B lives.
OFFICER # 3 Why?
DEC.WALHBERG Seems like he is landing here, tonight and our criminals know about it.
Their pattern seems random, sir.
DEC.WALHBERG It only seems random, but that doesn’t make it so.
OFFICER # 3 Yes sir!
The officer runs off to the squad car and grabs a radio.
OFFICER # 3 (CONT’D) Squad house, come in.
FEMALE VOICE (0.S.) Yes, officer?
OFFICER # 3 Officer 361240, here, need an address for a Rob Boll.
FEMALE VOICE (O.S.) Hold on while I check.
Jason reads a magazine while Michael watches the road.
How much further?
MICHAEL Not much more.
He’ll probaly get there before we do.
Nah, I know the back roads well enough.
You know the back roads to Springwood, but needed a map for haddonfield?
MICHAEL I used to date a woman in Springwood.
The one you met on the internet?
MICHAEL Yeah, why?
Jason smirks.
Nothing, nothing.
Meeting a woman on the internet is just a legitimate as any.
Dude, you where 17.
So? What we had was real.
JASON Fine, whatever.
Rob B. Looks bored, with a drunken asleep woman on is lap, empty chamange bottle still in her hand.
The limo partition comes down and the LIMO DRIVER looks directly at Rob.
LIMO DRIVER We’re here sir.
ROB. B Thanks.
Will you be requiring help bring madame inside?
Rob looks at her, she is totally passed out, he sighs.
Nah, just get the bags and meet me inside.
The limo driver gets out of the limo.
Rob B. Waits until the driver shuts the door, then raises his legs so cherri rolls off them, onto the floor.
ROB. B (CONT’D) Whoops.
Cherri stirs awake.
CHERRI SKY We there yet?
Yeah, yeah, I’ll meet you inside.
Rob pulls his feet out from underneath Cherri, opens the door and gets out.
Cherri drops her head back to the floor.
The limo driver, with four bags in hand, somehow manages to shut the trunk.
The limo driver follows Rob into to the cabin.
Cherri sky, drearily, pulls herself out of the limo, holding her head. She follows the limo driver, barley able to stand up.
The same officer is still on the raido.
OFFICER # 3 Over and out.
The officer doesn’t even bother to put the microphone back in the proper place, before he runs over to Dec. Walhberg.
OFFICER # 3 (CONT’D) Sir, sir.
He bends over, out of breath.
OFFICER # 3 (CONT’D) We have that address for you.
He hands the detective the paper while he is trying to catch his breath.
Detective Walhberg takes the paper and reads it.
DEC.WALHBERG Ok, call up to the local police department and tell them whats going on.
OFFICER # 3 The local police is nearly 45 mintues away from his cabin.
DEC.WALHBERG Call them anyways. I’m going to head back to the station. You call ahead and tell them to ready the choppter. We can be there in 45 minstues as well.
OFFICER Yes sir.
Rob comes steps into the cabin first. He looks around at all his hunting trophies and guns he has laying about. for a metal musican, he is quite a red neck.
Ah, good to be home.
The limo driver steps inside with all the suitcases.
Where would you like these, sir?
Rob points over to the cornor of the living room.
Over there is fine.
The limo driver places the packages down and cherri sky comes in, messing around with her cell phone, drunk.
(to the phone)
What the fuck do you mean, no recpetion?
We’re in the middle of the woods, no cellphones up here.
CHERRI SKY Fuckin’ lame!
Cherri tosses her cellphone into the corner of the living room, then drunkly walks over to the bed and crashes on it.
(under breath) Lovely woman.
Rob B. Turns to the limo driver.
Make sure to be here at 7 am
LIMO DRIVER Very good sir.
The limo driver turns and leaves, shuting the door behind him as Rob reunites himself with his place.
The van turns into a wooded aera. Snow covers the cabins, and look like they could of come out of a painting.
Jason looks out the windows, looking for the cabin.
Sure are lots of cabins.
MICHAEL Only in the back.
Jason looks confused.
Only in the back?
Yeah, we took the back roads, so we end up in back of the woods.
So where is his cabin?
Towards the front of the woods. see, the cabins back here are for rent in the summer.
How do you know this?
Saw a sign on the way in, it said summer rental cabins.
Oh! So why are we in the back part, then?
By being in the back, it makes our escape that much eaiser. We slip out the back of his cabin and to the van, taking off.
Michael brings the van to a hault.
Its gonna be a bit of a walk, though.
As I’ll ever be.
MICHAEL Lets go!
They both open their doors in unison and get out. They walk around to the front of the van from their respective sides, puling out their mask and putting them on.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) Last one to the cabin has to burn it down.
Michael takes off running.
JASON Oh, fuck you.
Jason jogs after him.
The station is filled with commotion.
Dec. Walhberg walks through the front doors. another detective steps over to him, and starts to walk with him, folder in hand.
Dectective Walhberg, the copter on the roof is gased up and ready to go when you are.
Good, did you guys phone ahead to the local police up there?
Yes, their ETA is 45 minutes
Lets hope we get their in time.
The chopters blades are spinning as the piolt gets in.
The door to the roof opens up with Detective Walhberg leading the other detective behind him.
Detective Walhberg stops, takes off his jacket and hands it to another officer.
(to the detective) Is my sniper ready?
The other detective leads Detective Walhberg, who rolls up his sleeves, as he is brought to where a SWAT member is standing by, holding a sniper.
(yelling over the sound of the helicopter) How long have you been on the force?
5 years, sir. 2 on Swat.
DEC.WALHBERG You’ll do just fine.
Dec. Walhberg gets into the copter, and the swat member gets in the other side.
(to the detective.)
Keep in constant radio contact.
The other detective nods as Dec. Walhberg places a headset on.
The copter starts to take off.
The other detective holds onto his head, trying to keep his hair from blowing everywhere.
Rob B is dressed down in a bathrobe and boxers. He pours himself a shot of real southern whiskey.
Rob brings the shot glass to his mouth, hesitanly, he shoots it down, shaking his head.
Damn, thats good!
He slams the shot glass back down on the bar and turns his attention to Cherri, sitting topless on the bed, still pretty drunk, waiting for him.
He walks over towards the bed, grabing a REMOTE that sits on the corner of the bed. He clicks it. Music plays, 1970’s classic rock, comes on.
ROB. B (CONT’D) You lookin’ pretty good ta night, momma’
Cherri drunkenly giggles as Rob gets on the bed.
Michael stops about 15-20 feet from the cabin.
Jason is a tad bit behind, but he finally catches up, huffin and puffin.
Michael surverys the scape, and spots a GENERATOR.
Rob B and Cherri aren’t visible under the silk, blood red sheets on the bed, but the silk conforms to their bodies, giving only a slight hint of what might be going on.
Sounds of female giggling can be heard as the sheets move, illuminated by the lights.
Rob B ad Cherri come out for air. Rob reaches over to the nightstand where a pack of ciggs and a lighter sit. As he grabs them, the lights go off.
A female scream cuts through the blackness like a knife through flesh.
A flame appears, the only source of light in the room now, and its not eve enough to illuminte a face.
The sound of springs releasing tension is heard, as Rob gets off the bed.
CHERRI SKY Where you going?
To check the generator.
The sound of shifting glass rattles the silence.
ROB. B (CONT’D) Fuck, my toe!
CHERRI SKY Careful, baby.
The front door opens, and the light only give luminance to the figure of Rob B, as he leaves.
Through the window, cherri watches him as he fiddles with the generator.
The moon barley gives him any light, but what little light comes through the trees is enough to see the generator.
Rob B checks the generator out, he sees nothing wrong.
He pulls the dip stick out and checks the oil, all is fine.
He notices the SWITCH, it says OFF
ROB. B Damn animals!
He flips on the switch
In back of him, the window lights up, cherri sits on the bed, gutted, dead. Rob doesn’t notice as he turns around and heads back in.
Rob comes in, still hasn’t noticed on the bed his is dead lay. He shuts the door.
Must of been squrriels or somethin’ messin’ with the…
Rob finally looks at the bed, he sees cherri sprawled out, blood all over the bed, entrails hanging, and a face of horror frozen on her face that quickly acts contagious and spreads to Rob B’s face.
Rob slowly makes his way over to cherri, unsure what to do.
He pats her head, and tries stuffing her insides back into her body, but it is futile.
A small sound breaks Rob’s concentration on the dead body. He bolts his head to the side, trying to discern where it came from.
Rob slowly gets off the bed, and walks over to a cabinet filled with different types of guns. All the spaces are filled, but two. Rob doesn’t notice the missing guns, he just grabs a shotgun as the noise happens again, but louder.
Rob inches towards the kitchen aera of the cabin, slowly, he turns to see what is lurking.
Rob steps into the kitchen, the first thing he notices is the back door, open, banging in the wind.
He walks over to the door, behind him, in the front doorway, stands Michael, breathing heavy, but silently.
Rob shuts the door, locking it.
Slowly, he turns around, weary, Michaels gone, but Rob catches his reflection in an aluminum fridge, spooking himself, sending two buck shots into the fridge.
Rob B. Cocks open his double barrel shotgun, removing the TWO SPENT SHELLS, then cocking it back.
ROB. B (CONT’D) Fuck!
Slowly, Rob B. Backs up ito the cornor where the door and side window meet. Afraid, praylzed, from getting more shells.
Rob breathes slowly, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
The window smashes open, sending him running for the living room aera.
Rob scrambles with the shotgun shell box, trying to reload as quickly as he can, as something approaches his rear.
Rob cocks the gun quickly, but not quick enough. Jason has overpowered him into a corner, knocking the shotgun from his ahand, it falls to the ground, shooting off and taking a window with it.
Jason tosses Rob into the middle of the living aera, he holds a gun to him.
Michael comes into the room through the kitchen, also holding a gun.
ROB. B (CONT’D) Please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything.
Rob squrims, wanting to live.
Both brothers stand side by side, now, guns lined up at Rob.
Off in the distace, sirens are heard.
A hard wind starts to blow curtains and dust around the cabin.
Jason and Michael look out the window and see cop lights on the horizion, and a bright white light in the sky, accompained by the sound of a helicopter.
You’re fucked now, assholes.
Thats what you think.
Michael grabs Rob and forces him on his knees, facing the window.
MICHAEL (CONT’D) This is for the shitty movies you make.
He puts the gun to Robs head, and pulls the trigger.
Robs head jerks to the side, and his dead body falls over, limp.
Jason turns to Michael.
Shit, I think we’re fucked this time.
I’ve got an idea
5 squad cars are all lined up, blocking the front, and preventing escape.
Cops with shotguns and handguns, all rest their weapons on the hood, watching the cabin.
The lights in the cabin go off, leaving it pitch black.
In the plane, the sniper takes aim at the house.
(through the mic)
Keep the chopter as steady as you can.
Michael picks up the body of Rob and holds it, like a shield.
What are you doing?
MICHAEL Watch this.
Michael places his handgun in Robs hands, and moves to the front door, just enough for Rob to be visible to the police.
Dective Walhberg watches the cabin from the sky, intently. he squints his eyes a bit harder, noticing something comming for the door.
Detective Walhberg picks up a megaphone.
This is the police, come out with your hands up.
The figure is visible now.
(through the mic)
Do not shot, do not shoot. That is Rob Boll.
The officers relax, but just a tad. Their weapos still trained on the house.
Rob’s hand raises up, with the handgun in it.
Michael squezzes Rob B’s finger, firing shots at the police.
Shock comes over Dectective Walhbergs face as he sees Rob B. Firing upon the police.
(through mic)
Shoot to disarm, repeat, shoot to disarm.
The patrol men all open fire on the cabin.
Bullets ricohaet against the outside of the cabin, making sparks apper at the windows and door.
One bullet tears through the sholder blade of Rob.
The glass case with guns shatters from the bullet.
Michael and Jason look at each other in horror, but are unharmed.
Michael pulls back from the doorway, with Robs body, making it look like a retreat.
He places the body on the floor.
Dude, lets bail.
Jason looks like you don’t have to tell him twice.
Detective Walhberg holds his gaze on the house, waiting to see if Rob B. Reemerges.
(to the mic)
Get ready to enter on my mark.
Michael and Jason comes out the back door, they stop for a second.
Michael takes the gun from Jason’s hands ad fires a shot into the sky.
Birds spill out of the trees, covering the sky.
Michael and Jason run as fast as they can, away from the cabin.
Dectective Wahlberg watches as the a small police squad assembles near the cabin.
DEC. WALHBERG Go, go, go!
The police squad storms into the cabin, looking around for any possible hostiles.
One of them steps forward to where Rob B’s body lies. He trais his gun on them, assing the threat.
POLICE OFFICER #2 Stand down!
The officer brings down his gun and grabs his mic.
(into mic)
Looks like a homocide and suicide, detective.
Detective Walhberg rest his hands on the sniper, silently telling him to ease down.
(to mic)f
I’ll be down in a minute, bag them and tag em’
Cindy Watkin’s sets up with her camera man as the helicopter lands in the backround and various police enter and exit the cabin, creating the crime scene.
The TV is on. Cindy’s report is playing.
CINDY WATKINS In what appers to be the end of a deadly night of terror, director Rob. B killed himself and his girlfriend in his cabin, here in Springwood.
On the couch, Michael and Jason sleep a well deserved rest.

Pre-Crime:The Future is Now

Copyright © 2018 by Karl R Reed Jr, aka Xavier Kage

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2018


Kage, Xavier (1986- )

What you hold in your hands is a hypothesis of over a decades worth of research, putting together the big picture and finding the clues that lead to the ability to predict criminality before it has even happened, better than anything in the past has. It has been tried before, but never has it come to fruition quit like I hope it will here. The travel to this destination has been a long and arduous one, paved with long hours analyzing data, drinking myself to the point of almost dying, thrice. Many nights of my friend crying and sobbing over negative things that have happened to her from an abuser, her former “lover”. Watching the ramifications of those actions from her teenage years impact her being as a twenty something adult and even banging my head on my parents kitchen table, crawling under it, in an attempt to console my best friend from fits of PTSD meltdowns. My twenties was far better than my own youth, in a lot of ways, but still no spring break in Cancun or any partying, outside of drinking by myself or with my best friend. Besides a best friend, I’ve also dealt with issues that my mom and sister have gone through within their lives from similar events and I don’t want to see others go down this same dark path. It would be fitting that I should possibly be the one to end pedophilia, among other things that plague our world, but when it comes down to it, Pre-crime is the second best thing to happen to criminals, short of a holocaust!


Crime can easily be defined as anything that is currently against the law. Quite obvious and easy, that doesn’t really say much. Humanity, regardless of era, is willing to outlaw acts for which it thinks it abhorrent or horrible, sometimes with logic, but more often without, such as smoking marijuana, for instance. What does nature think of law? It doesn’t, it does not care for it at all. Technically, there is no such thing as crime from a nature standpoint. It’s a societal construct, as much as I hate delving into postmodernism, it is true! Think about our ancestral environment, there was no cops to stop crime, there were no politicians to create law, no one to stop anyone. All you had was yourself, someone who loved you, or at the very least, didn’t entirely hate you. Why is that? Society didn’t really exist, there were only tribes and most humans are prone to only being able to deal with 100-250 people at a time. During the entire span of humanity, people have committed some of the worst things imaginable to one another. Tribes killed other tribes, rape was kosher, and pedophilia wasn’t as frowned upon, with the exception of the parents, if even, given that children were more often married by 12 in our ancestral environment, due to short life expectancy. The Wild West also allowed for child prostitutes. Human decency didn’t really exist in any context, in any epoch. Nearly everything was allowed for and most people engaged in it.
Greece is an excellent example of allowance in regards to sexuality, allowing for modified forms of pedophilia. Homosexuality, of both varieties, were also considered ok.

As the years rolled on and civilizations came and went, so too did the idea of crime itself. Each civilization had its own ideas of what was and wasn’t allowable. Paganism wasn’t frowned upon is ancient cultures, but you would have been burned at the stake in 1600’s Salem, Massachusetts. Humans have never been the greatest species to walk the planet, but it sure is the most apt to reflect upon our experiences better than any other ones; at least to our knowledge.

This is where the idea for pre-crime comes into view. It knows nature does not care about humans in any way, shape or form, whatsoever and whatever our little malignant heart desires is basically cool. Since crime doesn’t exist, by nature’s viewpoint, there is only human nature. If there is only human nature, it’s predicable. If it’s predicable, it can be thwarted long before a criminal has the chance to hurt an innocent human being.
There are already ways of “predicating” crime, but it’s only deals with some aspects of human nature. It doesn’t predict the victim. My hypothesis does, making pre-crime true to its word and you don’t have to put as much work into it as I have had to, as I’ve already done the heavy work for you.

So, allow me to create a list of crimes that we will be looking to predict. At present, it works best with blue collar crime, but will ultimately still predict white collar crime with a few tweaks.

1. Rape, Including, but not limited to, pedophilia.
2. Murder, including, mass, serial and “random”.
3. Theft of all kinds.
4. Drug dealers and their victims.

These are the most important blue collar crimes that are currently committed and the only ones that really plague society. While I could use the algorithm to predict children spray-painting the ground or a stoner smoking weed, we’re not concerned with these, as while the former is uncouth and the latter is a freedom, there is no long term consequences for these actions.

While often overlooked for being the equal of astrology, the Myers-Briggs or from here on out the MBTI, is actually a very powerful tool! It allows us to see how people engage the real world. Contrary to popular belief, it’s really couldn’t care less if all ENTP types are devil’s advocate or if all INTJ types are inflexible. All it cares about is the system and that system is used to navigate the murky waters of the world. I believe, given the ability to test this, it might even be genetic and the next chapter will deal with how to test it to see if it, indeed, is.

Here is all you’re going to have to know in order to start analyzing the hypothesis and see this exist.

There are two types of people, Extroverts and Introverts. Whatever you think you know about the terms, forget it. It’s really an energy exchange. Extroverts usually gain energy fromsocial exchanges and introverts lose energy. We can back up this up with Richard Dawkin’s The Selfish Gene (1976) in regard to cost/benefit analysis. Extroverts gain energy from socializing, so it is beneficial. Conversely, for the introvert, socializing can be masochism. Both are observable in the outside world and the inverse can be true of the Extrovert and Introvert as well, but other factors cause the inverse. Most will adhere to the norm.

I find and I hate to be anecdotal here, that intuition and sensing can be quite literal. In other words, a seemingly innocuous mistake, may be the system alerting the user to danger! It’s like looking at someone and calling them a serial killer. Imagine being right? How do you know? Looks can be deceiving, but it’s not as absurd as it seems as I’m sure we as a species has evolved to utilize such to protect ourselves and our kin, in the same way we have evolved other traits. Rational types, as they are referred to in the theory, would be wise to disregard such, but in doing so, they could be in peril. Irrational types, also the MBTI’s technical word, are prone to listening to it. Think a detective in a movie with no more than a hunch.

Humans as a species have evolved to gossip and accept such, sometimes without reservation or vetting, from people we trust. Sometimes, they even do it to the point of ignoring evidence to the contrary. These types are irrationals! Now those are 4 unique things regarding the system to look for. In regards to Perception vs Judging, while it seems difficult and we can test their adaptive behavior, it can be even more observable than we think. J’s tend to have a structure when engaging the world. Let me look at the ENTJ for instance. Let’s say you’re in a conversation with them and they express something, say just “I hate rap.” If they’re a Judging type, they may very well then reconsider the thought, but it would be structured, say holding their chin and rethinking it, but quite involuntary, like snapping your head towards a topless woman or muscular hunk! A Perspective would be less structured and may just redact something, say, because it makes them seem closed minded or salty. It’s quite easy to trigger off once you’ve understood how to look for it and while it seems arbitrary, it will seem genuine in the moment.

The last observable trait for seeing the MBTI in the real world is some of these traits that are imbued from the personality type that isn’t something stupid like enjoying a martini in the middle of summer or liking rap, those actually come from a different aspect of our nature altogether. Sensing types for instance are concreate and literal, seeing is believing and this why some don’t always understand theory, and while their literalness can sometimes be associated with autism, just one trait doesn’t make them autistic, which is why we must look to ensure that it isn’t their system first. Intuition as well, since it seems to imbue upon the person a so called “third eye”.

All of these can easily be discerned through observation and those are the most important. The hypothesis doesn’t care if you’re an Aries with a bad moon rising nor does the MBTI.

In the next chapter, we will be dealing with major histocompatibility Complex.

Major histocompatibility Complex from here on out this will be called MHC for short. The MHC is like a unique blueprint in all of us, which allows woman to see a man’s suitability for reproductive purposes. This can be done in one of two ways, through kissing or through olfactory glands. While the idea of human beings and phenomes have been “controversial”, the idea has merit to it. The idea goes that it’s a check and balance
system to impede pseudo and real incest between people too close on this spectrum to ensure diversity in gene reproduction and healthier progeny.Everyone has a MHC and it is unique to everyone. Like a thumbprint, no two people are alike. Even twins do not have the same MHC.This seems to be one of the biggest driving factors between not just sexuality, as even gay humans use this, but friendships between the opposite sexes as well. The dreaded “friendzone” that millennial men complain about, might in part, be caused by the MHC complex.

The idea works like this, birth control does alter a woman’s biology. It tricks the body into thinking it is pregnant, the hypothesis in regards to pregnancy is when a woman is pregnant, she is prone towards being around family for protection, since the suitor would have been long gone, had they not pair bonded and raring a child is no easy task. The female would need to stay near men who could help in raring a child, which would be male siblings and her own dad, in order to protect the progeny and their genetics. This, it should be noted, is different from “dad” types as they are called, since there would be good reason for helping to rare future progeny as
she is older and mature enough to make these decision, since nature favors the female choice in reproductive mates.

This would also alter her sex drive, causing her to reject different MHC and instead seek “Dad” types to assist in child rearing. If a woman is on Birth control, this will cause her to reject the right suitors and instead go towards men with similar MHC, ergo, in one way causing this “friendzone.” Without birth control, she will seek the right suitors for her. The other two possibilities for “friendzones” exist in the man not picking up on female signals and thus costing himself and downright entitlement towards sexual relations with the opposite sex in general. This causes incels. I.E. not being the right man to breed with and getting bitter over this.

These things are extremely important to note, because they relate to criminality and how nature “views” it, as opposed to most humans!
Sex and crime go hand in hand as I will show in the next chapter, since pre-crime was born out of understanding pedophiles and how this equates to other “criminal” behavior, we will start to put this all into perspective.

What is a pedophile? Well, the technical definition of a pedophile is one with a preoccupation with prepubescent children. A hebephiliac is one with an emphasis on middle school children and Ephebophila is someone with a sexual inclination towards 15 to 19 years of age.

It is important to note, none of these are sexualities, as age is not a sexual orientation, and it’s a preference. Preferences are developed, sexual orientations are static. I have always liked older woman, but my desire is not sexuality, as there is no “Milfsexual” orientation, nor should there be, because it is preference! So, a pedophile who likes young girls, is a straight pedophile with a preference for prepubescent girls, just as I am an adult man with a preference for middle age woman, mostly. This is no different from a woman preferring muscular men or a mustache, the preference isn’t exhibited by all and may even change with time.

Pedophilia doesn’t even meet the criteria for sexuality anyways, as sexuality doesn’t involve strong, hard to overcome urges that result in rape or other nefarious activity! Pedophilia, instead, is a form of cuckoldry, though. My logic for this is as follows. Woman decide which male is best suited to pass on their genetics through reproducing with the female. As in the last chapter, the female who is pregnant would stay close to male relatives in order to gain help in the form of child rearing. If the girl is too young to make such a decision for themselves or being so young, force could be used to get the girl to make such a decision, the father would be the one to bare reproductive cost for another man’s child in much the same way as if he had to bear the cost of his own wife being impregnated by another man. This would be horrible for him and why, I think, some conservatives are fine with abortion due to rape or cases of incest. When it comes to a man’s young boy, sometimes the opposite seems to be the case. This is sometimes seen as a double standard, but it really isn’t, since a woman would have picked the man’s adolescent son for intercourse, showing casing to him, successful reproduction had indeed happened for him, giving him feelings of elation and pride, instead of what idiots refer to as “toxic masculinity.”

Albeit, rape, at one point was most likely a strategy used in the ancestral environment, which men with poor genetic material, would of engaged in, in an attempt to sire progeny. While I am on the subject, pedophilia might occasionally be the same, as there is such a thing as “surrogate” pedophiles, but the results for finding them would be the same, since it would be steeped in
preference for certain types of woman, but rather than be a crime of desire, it’s an act of sexual poverty and a crime of opportunity, since most these people would rather fuck an adult than a child.

In fact, the old argument of “LGBT marriage will equate to pedos” is absolute BULLSHIT! It was actually oversights of old, such as allowing girls as young as 11 to marry in the 1800’s and before that allowed for LGBT marriage, not vice versa and we have since become more Enlighted to not allow for child sexual acts of any types to be performed, albeit 16 is legal in most states. Homosexual sex acts are 100% normal.

With that out of the way, we turn to the aspect of how this fits in with the last chapter! While not a sexuality, it acts like one because of the sexuality of the pedophile. This allows for us to predict with the utmost accuracy, the exact victims a pedophile will seek. This also allows for us to predict the exact victim’s murders and other criminals as well. In effect, predicting crime before it happens.

Alright, so here is how everything breaks down in terms of human tribalization. First, when you’re younger, you’re usually attracted to that which is akin. This is mostly likely to protect a child from straying away. The skin to skin contact forms a parental bond as protection. The MBTI personalities will be similar on a spectrum as well. Here is some instance from my own youthfor instance, two big influences on me as a writer. Both of which, in the MBTI are most likely Intuitive types. Both come off as a J types. One comes off more introverted and the other comes off more extrovert. One was a systems analyst. Normally a spectrum of the INTJ, albeit it, plenty of P types have exhibited such. I too am a system analyst and intuitive. The other isn’t, as far as I know, a system analyst, but it is all in the same spectrum of J’s and P’s. A lot of one of the authors books involved intuition as a major trope. This isn’t to liken myself to famous celebrities, but rather showcase that I liked a lot of things within my own spectrum. Involving other things I enjoyed, like Professional wrestling, the personality types have been similar as well. You’re not guaranteed to be 100% akin to your favorite celebrity, but closer to home, your friends are.

While not everything is 100% exact, I have liked the odd sensing type, but it is extremely rare instance.Your friends, opposite and similar sex, will most likely share similar genetics to you. For instance, a few of my friends and I share the MCR-1 gene, which is responsible for red hair and our I.Q.’s are in the same spectrum, among a slew of other genetics. For the sake of not self-aggrandizing myself, since the actual number is unimportant to the hypothesis, I will omit it. While they don’t think I.Q. is genetic, it still very real and people are likely to gravitate towards those people and form tribes with them.

I came to this conclusion accidentally. Apparently too inept to work a McJob in the town of Biddeford, Maine. I took it upon myself to criticize my performance as I am prone to doing and ensuring I improved in order to be hirable anywhere, including better jobs later on. Obviously, like most of my readers, all four to six of you, I wanted to be successful. As I analyzed the system, I noticed the patterns on hirable people. All of them were within the spectrum of MBTI personality type, all had similar genetics, I.Q. and backgrounds. All exhibited a lack of consciousness and most were inclined towards being musically absorb. It should be noted that Maine in general ranks low in contentiousness, while Florida is ranked one of the highest for it. It should also be noted that 90% of major companies use the MBTI during their hiring process. It should also be noted, the army use a similar test to sort people out. So, life is basically a caste system that is exhibited in both the real world and in the business world. Some people have better genetics than others and a more in demand, we have always known this in part, as good looks grant great privilege.

While some people reject the notion of alpha and beta men, the evidence posits otherwise. Yes, humans form hierarchy, but that is built on similar principles.
So, jobs breakdown as follows, each one corresponds to the MBTI and with enough knowledge, you can figure out what types they are looking for. One instance, a company that shan’t be named, discriminates against Intuitive types, looking only for sensors. The test you take to get the job, ask if you use intuition and then rejects you if you say yes, among other pro sensing questions. I was rejected because I wasn’t a sensor.

Even when they don’t ask on online test, I have taken plenty that have rejected me, where the entire company has been nothing but sensing types. In fact, I’ve been unemployable for pretty much 14 years, because I live in a town of 96% white sensing types. This isn’t to be poor me, this is how I have uncovered the human tribal system, which in turn, then deals with criminality.

Now, in those 14 years, I have managed to walk into manager jobs a decent number of times, which perplexed me. Who the hell walks into manager? It’s running a company, especially in a town full of sensing types, mostly P types, whom normally show preference for experience.
Albeit my aunt did it in my hometown, but me being a teenager, I assumed and erroneously, it must be a “who you know” type of situation.
I have done everything under the sun that has ever gotten a person a job and none of it has worked, because I am unable to peg off solipsism, which, normally turns out to be correct in their assumptions that we’re in fact, not alike.
It was anything but luck and I have been able to replicate these finding over and over, time and time again.

Now, in regards to hierarchy, it seems to have some component with masculinity. In each tribe, regardless of which of the 16 personality types they have, the coordinator or the “alpha” will always be masculine. As we go down the clock, so to speak, the more effeminate the male will become. “Beta” often possess almost as much masculinity as the “Alpha” themselves, they’re just not as good as coordinating the tribe and this can change with time. This results in everyone being an integral part of the team and is very important to every business. It should be noted that, with modern transgender studies, like those of Harvard in 2012 or 13, that a person’s masculine/feminine make up are decided entirely in the womb, by testosterone and estrogen levels in the natal environment.
It should be noted, that besides the personality types, there is two types of people in the world. Independent people and team workers. Others can work between them. These independent people will only be employable at jobs that need people who are “self-starting, go getters” who do not need to be coordinated. Freelancers, contractors, pro-wrestlers, business owners, ect. These types are often referred to as sigma.

So, now that we have that all out of the way, it important to note, all these aspect as quantifiable. Also, everyone’s experiences is in part, right. People attract that which is similar and occasion that which is opposite, because that is what we need to get along in the work force. The opposite almost always comes into play when a person is at the height of maturity and while it seems anecdotal, it is 100% provable.

This too, is how crime plays out. Criminals will almost always share, not just personality type, but genetic components as well and this is how pedophiles pick their victims. It’s not always a constant act, but the more hits on these multiple spectrums, the higher the chance the person is going to be choose, so let’s make a list of how my algorithm would work in finding the potential victim of a known pedophile with 100% accuracy.
1. MBTI type.
2. Genetic similarity
3. Graduation of masculinity/femininity.
4. I.Q. levels
5. Backgrounds
6. Sexuality
7. Looks on the golden ratio
These seven keys, with potential for uncovering more, are how human beings come together and form a tribe. Serial Killers, regardless of habitual nature, will almost always choose the exact personality type. So let us give another example of how this would look.

Serial Killer Guy, is a guy who has been spurn by a lover. She’s blonde, 5’4, rosebud lips and an ass that goes for days. As we already know, he will continue to seek 5’4 blondes with similar features to the woman that hurt him. How many 5’4 tall blondes can there be in any given city? Innumerable, I’m sure. Which is why these additional steps make a more specific algorithm for knowing which he is likely to kill. So our killer is a ISTJ who was spurned by a ISTP, both are roughly 120 in IQ, straight, employable at jobs that need a manager, but neither of which are managers, each one has the genes for blue eyes, expressed in his would be lover but dormant in him.
By knowing this information before hand, we can, to a T, realize who his victims are going to be. If we factor in things such as the lack of free will humans possess, we can even figure out where they will strike and I believe, when they will strike, due to these types of offenders always doing at the height of their stress, when they need to relive their impulse or the stress of daily life.

It should be noted that pre-crime is not perfect, and I am not suggesting arresting people for thought-crime. With the right amount of research, we can possible severely reduce crime though and even get to it before it happens. Right now I am unable to predict infant sexual attacks as more research is needed, but I have enough evidence, non-anecdotal, to showcase there is merit to the hypothesis and plan to start rolling out the algorithm to police stations when it is peer reviewed and firmly science. Also, it can be used in reverse to predict the past with absolute accuracy. I never went to school with a baby
boomer for instance, but I could predict their entire sexual history with just those six keys as if I had been there. While I would like to delve extensively into the genetics of criminals and their victims, I may not get that opportunity for all, but that’s ok, as genetics that are mostly visible, without having to get thousands of people into MRI machines and constantly vetting their genetics as it works fine with just the quantifiable genetics, thanks to the likes of Darwin and Johann Gregor Mendal and that is all that would be needed to start breaking out pre-crime as actual fact and really preemptively saving lives in the process. One last thing, because such may trigger people, say, in Facebook science groups, that race plays no factor in who is and isn’t a criminal. Nor does it mean a white person and a black person would never be matched. Skin color is merely an expression of pigmentation and either way, blacks, white, Asians and more will share similar genetics. It’s not like Black People are Lions attempting to mate with a white puppy. No one is free from any of the keys of human tribalism and diversity isn’t as diverse as it seems when you look at the structure of humanity anyways. A black and white couple will be, in a lot of ways as similar as a black and an Asian. This was completed in an all-white town, but has been observed in many other cities, with a lot of diversity and it always plays out the same way.

Ultimately, though I could make a lot of money off of selling this algorithm once it is 100% legitimate science, that isn’t my goal, even with sacrificing my twenties in order to complete it. It comes down to family and friends. Anyone who has ever loved a victim knows how hard dealing with the issues caused by being hurt by pedophiles or other criminals. I’ve spent the better part of my 32 years on this planet dealing with the outfall of such atrocious acts, having a mother and sister who have been assaulted and a best friend, whom, thanks to her pedophile abuser, messed her up real bad and caused me to bump my head, whilst drunk, on my parents kitchen table. I may have been unemployable for nearly 2 decades, but boy, did I recover Steller! It is because of this that I wish to help distribute and further research more and contribute it to as many law enforcement offices as humanly possible with due time, in hopes crime is extinguished, once and for all!