FADE IN:

              INT. SILVER LANCE PRODUCTIONS - DAY

              Wow, this is hot. Two women are on a guy, all are basically
              naked, bodies are damp with sweat and God knows what else.
              Their MOANS OF PLEASURE are loud and deep.

                                  WOMAN #1
                        Ooooh, Boris. You are so huge...oh!
                        Oh. Oh!

              A pair of eyes, focused and intense, watches the action in
              the dark.

                                  BORIS
                        All the way in, baby. All. The.
                        Way. Innnnn...

              The second woman unceremoniously moves her ass over Boris'
              face.

                                  BORIS (CONT'D)
                        Yeeeaahh, that's
                        right,the...urrrrrffffgghhhh

                                  WOMAN #1
                        Oh yeahhhhhhh. Gimme that...

              The pair of eyes continues to watch.

                                  WOMAN #2
                        That's so goood. Candy, baby, touch
                        me...mmmm here, yeah, there you go.
                        Aaaahh! You got th-

              The action suddenly freezes. There is a dark object center
              top screen.

              The watching eyes go wide.

              Back to the porn, which is stuck in time.

                                  WAYNE (O.S.)
                        Goddamn boom mike.

              Out on the overall scene, which turns out to be an editing
              bay in a nondescript office. Occupying the bay and working
              the movie on the monitor is WAYNE BINGHAM, a slim young(ish)
              man.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        Every frickin' time, these guys
                        with the mike.

              Shaking his head, he makes a cut on the editing bay.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        Goodbye Mr. Microphone. Too bad I
                        have to cut the dialogue.
                        Shakespearean though it is.

              Back to the action, as it is fast forwarded to the next
              sequence. The scene is positioned to the beginning of the
              take. Another girl has joined the action.

                                  NEW GIRL
                        Boris, you found some toys to play
                        with! That makes me so itchy.
                        Hellooo girls...

              Wayne's eyes seem to find this more appealing. Apparently
              there's no boom mike in this one.

                                  WOMAN #2
                        Boris, your wife is hot. She really
                        seems to know her way around
                        a...oooh, ahhh, mmmmm...

              Here come THE MOANS again. And heavy GRUNTS from the male
              lead. Then some WILD SQUEALING from woman #1 joining the
              action. These sounds combine and intensify to approach a
              CRESCENDO OF PURE ANIMAL PLEASURE.

              Wayne's PHONE RINGS.

                                  WAYNE
                        Jesus, who the hell? I'm working.

              He answers it.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        Yeah, hello?

              He nearly shouts this, as the booth is now filled with the
              sounds of SCREAMING, GRUNTING, SHOUTING, WHOOPING, WILD,
              ASTOUNDING SEX.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        Mom! Oh, ah, hi...

              He scrambles for the volume control.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        Hi Wayne! I'm glad I finally got
                        you. Are you busy? It sounds like
                        you're having sex. That's
                        wonderful. I can call back later.

                                  WAYNE
                        No, ah...

              The volume control is located, and the soundtrack is
              neutralized.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        I'm just...listening to a few...uh,
                        a few music, a little people,
                        for...from work, ah...how are you?

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        I'm fine. But I'm worried about
                        you. I haven't heard from you in a
                        week. You moved to California two
                        months ago and we've only talked,
                        like, six times. Are you okay?
                        Eating enough? Is there any new
                        girl in your life since Mia left
                        with...

                                  WAYNE
                            (abruptly)
                        I've been pretty busy with work.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        And how's that going? Are you
                        writing yet? You were looking for
                        those kinds of jobs.

                                  WAYNE
                        Well, the strike is still on, mom,
                        so little chance there. I'll need
                        to keep the part-time gig, at least
                        for the moment.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        That's so nice. My son, the movie
                        editor!

              On the monitor, the four actors rabidly fornicate in silence.

                                  MOM (O.S.) (CONT'D)
                        By the way, Sandy Magruder stopped
                        in the other day. Have you heard
                        from Bobby?

                                  WAYNE
                            (more attentive)
                        No, I haven't. Is there any news,
                        did she say when he's coming?

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        No. It's strange; she hasn't heard
                        from Bobby in weeks. I hope he's
                        okay.

                                  WAYNE
                        Yeah, me too. He's supposed to be
                        here by now...but this is Bobby
                        we're talking about. I shouldn't be
                        so anxious; he'll turn up sooner or
                        later. Probably unannounced,
                        knowing him.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        I hope nothing happened to him.

                                  WAYNE
                        I doubt it. He's got the gods from
                        all major religions looking after
                        him. He's the luckiest guy I've
                        ever known. Could be he landed some
                        nice gig or met a hot new girl over
                        in Europe. Something that would
                        move "calling home" down the
                        priority ladder. He committed to
                        joining me here, though. And he
                        does keep his promises.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        Still, it makes you wonder.

                                  WAYNE
                        It does, it does. And I have a rent
                        payment coming up. That second
                        bedroom is still waiting for him.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        I could send you some money if...

                                  WAYNE
                        No, no, no. I'm not that desperate
                        yet.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        Okay. I'm sorry I interrupted you
                        at work. Can we talk later?

                                  WAYNE
                        Sure, I'll give you a call.

                                  MOM (O.S.)
                        Okay, super. Bye now. And I hope
                        you do hear from Bobby soon.

                                  WAYNE
                        Oh, I'm certain I will. Goodbye.

              He kills the call.

                                  WAYNE (CONT'D)
                        I hope so, anyway...

              Wayne turns up the soundtrack on his movie, and as he returns
              to work...

DISSOLVE TO:

            EXT. WARNER BROTHERS - DAY

            Wayne is working at a major studio! Well, not exactly. He is
            parading in front of the building, in line with a loose
            collection of writers. He wears a standard-issue "Writers
            Guild on Strike" gray t-shirt that looks a size or two big
            for him, and totes a strike sign. He is walking slightly
            behind an attractive female protester and sprints a little to
            catch up with her.

                                WAYNE
                      Heya. I'm Wayne. Remember me?

                                FEMALE STRIKER
                      Why, no. Not at all.

                                WAYNE
                      I was the guy with the bagels.
                      Y'know...avoiding the blueberry
                      cream cheese. Remember now? Two
                      bagel halves, plain cream cheese
                      only, thank you very much. The guy
                      who didn't believe in mixing fruit
                      with condiments?

            The woman seems to be doing her best not to listen to him.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      I mean, blueberries, pears, apples,
                      all of the above.
                      They're proper for...well, you can
                      put them in cake, you can put them
                      in cookies, shoot, even chocolate
                      bars...y'know...but - ha! - cream
                      cheese! Who's the genius that
                      thought of that idea? Who, can you
                      tell me?

                                FEMALE STRIKER
                      Umm, no. I guess that one's got me
                      stumped.

                                WAYNE
                      It was last week. Tuesday, I think.
                      The bagel incident. At Paramount,
                      we were at the sign-in table
                      together. You had this cute,
                      ah...yah, and we were talking about
                      the cream cheese. Gosh, how could
                      you forget?

            The woman quickens her step.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      Do you come here often? To strikes,
                      I mean? Not the studio, or this
                      gate specifically. Y'know, maybe we
                      could...holy shit! Holy holy shit,
                      man!

            He accidentally shouts this last phrase virtually in the face
            of another striker. The striker grabs his ear in pain, and
            looks back angrily at Wayne.

            Wayne hardly notices, because standing on the curb across the
            street is his great friend BOBBY MAGRUDER. Pulling away in
            front of Bobby is a taxi. He looks travel-weary. There is a
            backpack at his feet.

            Bobby waves. A happily surprised Wayne strides over quickly,
            his strike sign knocking a baseball hat off a fellow
            protester. Wayne's sign tumbles to the ground as well. The
            protester, after a moment of shock, looks greatly annoyed.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      Bobby, man...wow, hell...wasn't
                      expecting you. Damn, this is a
                      surprise.

            The two men hug.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      How'd you know I'd be here?

                                BOBBY
                      My mom told me your mom told her
                      that you're on this strike line
                      this week.

                                WAYNE
                      This is great, but...You should
                      have let me know you're coming.
                      I've never understood that, Bobby -
                      why you simply can't send a simple
                      email or make a phone call. Even a
                      little one, just so I'm informed.

                                BOBBY
                      See, I got on one of those charter
                      flights. Happened kinda quick. I
                      forgot to let you know.

            He scratches his head.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)
                      I guess I really shoulda. Just so
                      you could...ah, prepare or
                      something. Sorry, man.

                                WAYNE
                      That's okay, never mind. The
                      important thing is that you're
                      here. And God damn, I am glad to
                      see you.

                                BOBBY
                      Likewise.

            The two stand there, apparently letting it sink in.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)
                      Uh, Wayne?

                                WAYNE
                      Yeh?

                                BOBBY
                      We're standing on the curb.

            Wayne looks around and confirms this information.

                                WAYNE
                      Oh. Right. Let's move.

            They do; Bobby grabs his pack and the two cross the street.
            They end up on the sidewalk in front of the strike sign-in
            table.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      Yeh, it's cool you're here now. I
                      still don't know too many people in
                      town. The writing's going
                      slowly...well, actually it's kind
                      of non-existent. That's what's good
                      about you coming; now I have
                      someone to talk to and do things
                      with. Hopefully that'll inspire me.

                                BOBBY
                      Yeh. What are the chicks like here?

            Wayne looks at his friend with mild reproach.

                                WAYNE
                      Right. Girls. Well, that's another
                      subject. The thing is, in this city
                      they're so...

            His answer is interrupted by a clump of strikers. On their
            route they walk between the two men; Bobby steps back to let
            them pass. There are a bunch of them so this takes a little
            time. Wayne finishes making his point, but what he's saying
            is unclear.

            The procession moves on; the route is momentarily open.

            Bobby is nodding. Then he stops.

            A beat or two.

                                BOBBY
                      What?

                                WAYNE
                      Don't you listen, man? The women
                      are...

            The female striker Wayne made a pass at earlier enters the
            frame and walks over to the strike table. She catches Wayne's
            last line and flashes a sour look.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      Uh, yah, weather is super in the,
                      you know, Los Angeles...area.
                      You're going to love it, really.

                                BOBBY
                      Okee, I gotcha, buddy. Anyway...how
                      long is your shift here?

                                WAYNE
                      Another hour and a half.

                                BOBBY
                      So you wanna bug out early? We can
                      go get a Starbucks or something and
                      catch up, then I can go to the
                      apartment and crash.

                                WAYNE
                      Well, I have to finish my
                      shift...It needs to look good. It's
                      important for the networking, for
                      my future.

                                BOBBY
                      I get it, that's cool. So did you
                      get a lot of contacts so far?

                                WAYNE
                      Uh, no. None at all, actually. But
                      I'm building my way up to it. So if
                      you're not too exhausted, why don't
                      you grab a sign? We can talk while
                      we walk.

                                BOBBY
                      Sure, I guess so.

            The two men approach the sign-in table. There is a pile of
            signs nearby. With narrowed eyes the WGA rep follows Wayne.

                                WGA REP
                      Uh, don't you already have a sign?
                      The one that dropped on the
                      sidewalk?

            He points to the offending sign.

                                WAYNE
                      Oh! Right, sorry.

            As Bobby takes a sign, Wayne dodges a passing striker or two
            to retrieve his. As advertised, it's on the sidewalk.

            Signs hoisted, two men start marching on the strike route.

                                WAYNE (CONT'D)
                      This is probably just what you
                      need. A little exercise after being
                      cooped up on a plane for so many
                      hours. It'll wake you right up,
                      too, give you some new energy.

            Wayne and Bobby march out of the frame.

                                                             CUT TO:

        INT. NORTH HOLLYWOOD CONDO - DAY

       Bobby is nearly comatose on the couch. He's sleeping fully
       dressed and his shoes are on. Next to him is a WGA strike sign. Not
       far away is his suitcase, unopened and still wearing the
       airport luggage tag.

       A clock ALARM RINGS in the upstairs bedroom. It doesn't stop.

       Bobby continues to sleep.

       Upstairs, Wayne GRUNTS awake then issues a CAVEMAN YELL at
       the offending clock.

       Bobby is unaffected.

                           WAYNE (O.S.)
                 Clock damn butt ugly son of a bitch
                 mother...frickin'...

       An OBJECT IS THROWN AT THE CLOCK. Apparently it's a miss,
       because SOMETHING FALLS AND BREAKS while the alarm WHINES
       AWAY.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 I hate you! Shut up!

       Bobby dozes peacefully.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 Take care of you...

       Another OBJECT IS THROWN AT THE CLOCK and the alarm stops
       ringing. It also FALLS TO THE FLOOR AND BREAKS INTO SEVERAL
       PIECES. Some other object DROPS AND BOUNCES ACROSS THE ROOM.
       A moment later, something large and heavy also FALLS ON THE
       GROUND.

       This jolts Bobby awake.

                           BOBBY
                 Dad? Where's my pinata?

       He blearily looks around; it takes him a second to figure out
       where and in what decade he is.

                           WAYNE (O.S.)
                 Ah, shit, not the bookshelf.

                           BOBBY
                     (calling upstairs)
                 Wayne?

                           WAYNE (O.S.)
                 Yeh, Bob.

                           BOBBY
                 You okay, man?

                           WAYNE (O.S.)
                 I'm fine, I'm fine. Just dealing
                 with some furniture issues.

                           BOBBY
                 Oh.

       His eyelids get heavier and he nods to sleep again.

       Upstairs, a LARGE PIECE OF FURNITURE IS PUSHED CLUMSILY
       ACROSS THE ROOM. It SLAMS INTO PLACE AGAINST A WALL.

       Bobby wakes up. Looking around, he realizes his location
       hasn't changed.

       After a beat or so Wayne, hair mussed, dressed in pajamas,
       emerges at the top of the stairs and descends into the lower
       part of the condo.

                           WAYNE
                 Man, I hate waking up. Good
                 morning. How did you sleep?

                           BOBBY
                 Uh, okay. I think I'm still
                 unconscious.

       With his eyes one-quarter open, he looks it.

                           WAYNE
                 Sorry about the noise. Frickin'
                 alarm clock. Maybe I shouldn't have
                 put it across the room. Good thing
                 I don't have to worry about it
                 anymore.

       Wayne exits the frame to enter the kitchen.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 You want fried eggs? Or maybe a
                 leftover Slurpee?

                           BOBBY
                 Nah, I...

       Big yawn.

                           BOBBY (CONT'D)
                 Mmmmffff, ahhh...

                           WAYNE
                 Toast? I can make some toast.
                 Forgot to buy butter, though.
                 You'll have to eat it dry.

       Bobby nods.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 I planned the full tour for you
                 today, buddy. A visit to the Third
                 Circle of Hell, otherwise known as
                 the LA metropolitan area. Beverly
                 Hills, Santa Monica and the beach,
                 Malibu...

       Bobby drifts off to sleep again.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 ...Hollywood Boulevard. No work
                 until tomorrow for me, so I can
                 show you the town and we can talk
                 strategy. How we can carve out
                 careers in this town, you and me,
                 Stud Actor and Witty Writer.

       Bobby has slipped back into his coma.

       LIQUID POURS INTO A GLASS in the kitchen.

       Wayne enters the frame with a pint of orange juice.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 It's a tough market in this town, but
                 opportunity is out there
                 somewhere. We just have to figure
                 out how to grab it. Grab it, I say!

       Wayne finally notices that Bobby is asleep as he sets the
       orange juice down on the table in front of his friend.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 Bobby?

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 Bob-by!

       No answer. Wayne CLAPS HIS HANDS LOUDLY. Bobby wakes.

                           BOBBY
                 Agghhh...huh?

                           WAYNE
                 A beverage for you. Cliff's Notes
                 version: I'm taking you on a ride
                 around town.

                           BOBBY
                 Yah. Super.

                           WAYNE
                 Drink your juice. You need citrus
                 energy, vitamin C. We'll be out for
                 a few hours.

                           BOBBY
                 Great.

       Wayne returns to the kitchen and Bobby drinks his juice,
       realizing in the process that he's nearly dehydrated. He
       greedily sucks down the rest of the beverage.

                           WAYNE (O.S.)
                 Also. We need to start making
                 friends, contacts in the business.
                 That's the only way we're gonna get
                 work.

       The toaster POPS.

       Bobby's eyes droop yet again. He falls asleep.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 Oh. I do have some cream cheese I
                 got on the strike line the other
                 day. You want that with your toast?

       No answer from dozing Bobby.

                           WAYNE (O.S.) (CONT'D)
                 Nah, forget it. It was out in the
                 sun, I'm sure it's rotten. Or at
                 least unacceptably crusty. Two
                 pieces of desert-dry white toast,
                 comin' up.

       Wayne enters the living room again, fails to notice Bobby
       sleeping even as he delivers the toast.

                           WAYNE (CONT'D)
                 Gotta get a new alarm clock while
                 we're out, please don't let me
                 forget. Meanwhile, eat up while I
                 take a shower. Your new life begins
                 today, Bob. Your new life.

       Wayne exits the frame.

       Bobby starts snoring.

                                                   DISSOLVE TO:

           EXT. LOS ANGELES - VARIOUS - DAY

          Landmarks speed by, as if passed in a car. Hollywood
          boulevard, Malibu beach, Rodeo Drive, etc.



          INT. WAYNE'S CAR - DAY

          Wayne is driving his vehicle, an underpowered Korean SUV.
          Bobby looks haggard and bug-eyed in the shotgun seat. He's
          drinking a massive coffee which looks like a Venti Starbucks
          on crank.

                              WAYNE
                    Yeh, things will get better. I can
                    feel it. I'm just going through a
                    relatively minor slump now. My
                    writer's block isn't melting away
                    quite yet. The porno job's only
                    about 15 hours a week, it does take
                    a lot out of me. I'm not sure how.
                    Maybe that's what's blocking my
                    creative chi.

          Bobby sucks some coffee.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    This is a tough town, man. A tough
                    town. But we can still conquer it.

                              BOBBY
                    We knew it would be this way at the
                    beginning, though.

                              WAYNE
                    Granted, yes.

          Bobby notices something.

                              BOBBY
                    Hey, isn't that the Santa Monica
                    pier? That looks pretty cool, why
                    don't we...

                              WAYNE
                    Yeah, it's the Santa Monica pier.
                    So like I was saying, we need to
                    come up with some kind of plan.

                              BOBBY
                    You don't want to stop?

                              WAYNE
                    I just moved to this city. No way
                    do I want to stop.

                              BOBBY
                        (looking back)
                    I mean, to look at the pier.

                              WAYNE
                    No I don't. Listen. Focus. Stay
                    with me, stay on the conversation.
                    Concentration, Bobby.

                              BOBBY
                    We need a plan, yeah. Maybe we can
                    do that project, the one we were
                    talking about in Prague? You write,
                    I star?

                              WAYNE
                    ET meets High Noon in medieval
                    Japan. Hmmm, I'm not sure the
                    market is right for that one. And I
                    still have yet to write it.

          A beat. Bobby pokes at the car stereo.

                              BOBBY
                    Can I crank this, man?

                              WAYNE
                    Sure, yeah. I mean, no. It only
                    plays AM radio, the CD player's a
                    goner. As are the FM and the tape
                    deck.

                              BOBBY
                    Oh.

                              WAYNE
                    That's the thing. I have no ideas.
                    I'm dry, totally. Nothing coming
                    out of the tap.

                              BOBBY
                    Maybe it's because of all the
                    porno. Actually, y'know, come to
                    think of it...we could do our own
                    skin flick. You writing and
                    me...actualizing...

          That's a thought. Both men think.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    And you'd meet more girls that way.

                              WAYNE
                    Bobby, stop.

          It's hot in here; Bobby pushes his window button. There's an
          INTERMITTENT ELECTRONIC BUZZ as the system attempts, but
          fails, to lower the window.

                              BOBBY
                    You need to get laid, boss. It's
                    been almost a year since Mia...

                              WAYNE
                    Do not mention her name.

          Bobby's window continues to FART and not lower.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    Here, you have to let me do it.
                    Release the button.

          Bobby does so and Wayne activates his window override button.
          The window RATTLES AGAINST SOMETHING while descending very
          slowly.

                              BOBBY
                    Wayne, you're not going to erase
                    her memory by not mentioning her
                    name.

          Wayne drives and presses the window button silently.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    That's enough window, man.

          Wayne releases his button.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    It's time for a new chick, y'know.

                              WAYNE
                    Okay. I know. But women are beside
                    the point right now...

                              BOBBY
                    Women are never beside the point.

                              WAYNE
                    We need work; something that'll not
                    only produce revenue, but start our
                    careers.

          Wayne notices something out the window.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    Oh. Coming up - Venice Beach, very
                    famous. That way, down the street.

                              BOBBY
                    Cool. Let's take a look.

                              WAYNE
                    Maybe later. So do you have any
                    ideas? Any projects in mind?

                              BOBBY
                    I'm only the actor; you're the idea
                    guy.

          Bobby looks far ahead to catch a glimpse of Venice Beach.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    That beach is probably sweet. What
                    a shame to miss it.

                              WAYNE
                    Yeah. How about something medical?

                              BOBBY
                    Great.

          Wayne smiles. A beat.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    Huh?

                              WAYNE
                    You went to med school...well, for
                    a little while before dropping out.
                    Didn't you see anything horrifying
                    there?

                              BOBBY
                    No. Not at all. It was only school,
                    y'know.

                              WAYNE
                    I'm thinking body snatching, I'm
                    thinking black market cadavers, I'm
                    thinking doctors euthanizing
                    patients...crazy nurses filling IV
                    bottles with poison...

          Wayne looks over at Bobby, who's still craning for a look at
          the beach.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    Imagined, I mean. Ideas. Did you
                    ever conceive one or all of the
                    above?

                              BOBBY
                    Nope.

                              WAYNE
                    Okay, guess that's a no-fly zone.
                    Look, over there.

          Bobby looks, over there.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    Entrance to the boardwalk.

                              BOBBY
                    Sounds good. Guess we'll be missing
                    that?

                              WAYNE
                    Yeah, we will.

          Bobby shrugs.

                              WAYNE (CONT'D)
                    Sight-seeing is fun and wonderful
                    and a real joy sometimes, but a
                    plan is what we need. What we
                    really need.

                              BOBBY
                    That beach sounds nice, though.

          Wayne gives him a look.

                              BOBBY (CONT'D)
                    Yeah, I think maybe I can come up
                    with an idea or two. We'll hit the
                    waves later, yeah?

                              WAYNE
                        (sighs)
                    I guess so.

          The car moves out of the shot.

INT. SILVER LANCE PRODUCTIONS - DAY

               Wayne enters a corridor and before reaching a door at the end
               of it turns to talk to a SECRETARY.

                                   WAYNE
                         Hi, Janelle. Is Lance...

               The secretary is slumped over her desk, either dead or
               asleep.

                                   WAYNE (CONT'D)
                         Janelle?

               He gently prods her. She comes to life.

                                   JANELLE
                         Uhhh...uhhh...oh...no more Mojito,
                         Felipe, no mas, por favor...

               She collapses on her keyboard. Her PC starts BEEPING.

               Wayne gingerly moves her off the keyboard. She doesn't stir.

                                   WAYNE 
                         Okay. Ah, I'll go right in, then.

               He turns and knocks on a large door. 

                                   LANCE (O.S.)
                         Enter!



               INT. SILVER LANCE PRODUCTIONS - OFFICE - DAY

               Wayne enters the immense, tasteless office of LANCE
               SILVERBERG, the company's lead pornographer. He is a nerdy
               middle-aged Jew dressed in flashy clothes and obscene
               jewelry. He sits at a massive desk. On a nearby couch sit two
               young male INTERNS. Both are reading fashion magazines.

                                   LANCE
                         Wayne. Dude. What up?

                                   WAYNE
                         Hi Lance. Ah...can I have a seat?

                                   LANCE
                         Fuck yeah. You're not here to ask
                         for more hours, are you? 

               Wayne takes a seat in one of two chairs in front of the desk.

                                   WAYNE
                         No.

                                   LANCE 
                         Sweet. Want a cigar? Or a Valium?

                                   WAYNE
                         I'm okay, thanks. Um, what I wanted
                         to ask was...ah, remember once you
                         told me you wanted to do other
                         types of movies besides porno?

                                   LANCE
                         Are there other types of movies?

               A beat.

                                   LANCE (CONT'D)
                         Just kiddin', bro. Yeah,
                         diversification. Everybody and his
                         brother is making pornos these
                         days. It's that fuckin' YouTube.
                         There is no true quality anymore.
                         The amateurs are taking over.
                             (flipping the bird)
                         YouSuck, YouBastard. How about
                         that?

                                   WAYNE
                         Yeah. Well, we were thinking - my
                         friend and I - um, we have some
                         ideas for movies. Projects you
                         could shoot cheaply. See, he's an
                         actor and as you know I'm a--

                                   LANCE
                         Dude. That could work. What kinda
                         movies?

                                   WAYNE
                         Well, as I've told you I have a few
                         scripts in development--

                                   LANCE
                         Fuck me. You're not talking about
                         that ET meets High Noon thing in
                         China, are you?

                                   WAYNE 
                         Not necessarily. That's just one
                         of...several projects I have.
                         There's also this medical
                         drama...well, it's more a thriller.
                         Think Coma meets Saw. Psycho
                         doctors, scary pharmaceuticals...

                                   LANCE
                         Sexy nurses?

                                   WAYNE
                         Sure.

                                   LANCE
                         Any nudity?

                                   WAYNE
                         Plenty.

                                   LANCE
                         Blood?

                                   WAYNE
                         Gallons. If not barrels.

                                   LANCE
                         Sweet. Tell ya what, bro, let me do
                         a little market research on that
                         one. 
                             (to the interns)
                         Guys?

               No answer.

                                   LANCE (CONT'D)
                         Guys!

                                   INTERN #1
                         What? We're busy.

                                   LANCE
                         I need some market research on
                         medical thrillers. Can you do that?

                                   INTERN #1
                         Nope.

                                   INTERN #2
                         Don't think so.

                                   LANCE
                         Come on, please? That's why you're
                         here.

                                   INTERN #1
                         Not in the job description.

                                   INTERN #2 
                         Got other things to do.

                                   LANCE
                         Hook me up, homies, and I'll get ya
                         some nice Asian fuck bunnies. The
                         ones from "Desperate Cheerleaders".

                                   INTERN #1
                         I'm gay.

                                   INTERN #2
                         Mebbe. I'll think about it.

                                   LANCE
                             (back to Wayne)
                         Alright, fuck the market research.
                         Just write up a synopsis for me and
                         maybe film a scene with your
                         friend. Like a screen test.

                                   WAYNE
                         Sure. We can do that. I'll bring
                         both into work on Monday.

                                   LANCE
                         Alright. Sweet. Anything else? You
                         sure you don't want some pills?

                                   WAYNE
                         No, I need to get back to work. My
                         shift ends at 7.

               He stands to leave.

                                   LANCE
                         Right on, homes. You know, you
                         should come up to visit more. I
                         like talking to my peeps.

                                   WAYNE
                         Yeah, will do. So, Monday with the
                         synopsis and the screen test.

               Lance nods and extends his fist. Wayne clumsily meets it with
               his own. He exits the office.

INT. COMPLETE AND UTTER DARKNESS - INDETERMINATE

         How black can you get? Not much blacker than the screen at
         the moment.

                             BOBBY (O.S.)
                       (deep voice)
                   --it was my father, Georgette. He
                   was a plastic surgeon, a brilliant
                   one. He made all those people so
                   pretty. So perfect. After he locked
                   me in the dog shed all I could
                   think about was destroying that
                   beauty and perfection. I wanted to
                   smash! I wanted to mutilate! I
                   wanted to make the world ugly!

         Some electric device BUZZES WEAKLY.

                             WAYNE (O.S)
                             (terrible female voice)
                   Nooooooo...

                             BOBBY (O.S.)
                   Now stop screaming and die like a
                   good patient!

                             WAYNE  (O.S.)
                   Dr. Kraus, please, anything but the
                   bone saw--

                             BOBBY  (O.S.)
                   Georgette, you are making this
                   extremely disgust--, extremely
                   detri-- Shit, man.

                             WAYNE  (O.S.)
                       (testy)
                   Difficult, Bobby. The word is
                   difficult. Which is actually very
                   easy to say.

                             BOBBY  (O.S.)
                   It's not when you cross it out in
                   the script.

         A beat.

                             WAYNE  (O.S.)
                   You can still read it.

                             BOBBY  (O.S.)
                   No you can't. Look.

         Some PAPERS ARE RUSTLED.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   I scratched it out delicately. You
                   just have to concentrate.

                             BOBBY (O.S.)
                   Which I can't do when I'm reading
                   the lines.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   All right, all  right, all right,
                   never mind. Let's just do another
                   take. With the correct words,
                   please.

                             BOBBY (O.S.)  
                   Actually, Wayne?

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   Yeh.

                             BOBBY (O.S.)  
                   I just noticed something.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   Do please enlighten me.

                             BOBBY (O.S.)
                   The power light isn't on. On the
                   camera.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   No.

         A beat.

                             WAYNE (CONT'D)
                   Shit.

         A CLICK, then suddenly



         INT. NORTH HOLLYWOOD CONDO THROUGH VIEWFINDER - NIGHT

         Bobby is in the crosshairs of a camcorder, looking tired. He
         wears a white bathrobe and wields an electric screwdriver.

                             BOBBY
                   I think we should wrap for the
                   night.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   We need to get this scene down.
                   We're on deadline, remember?

                             BOBBY
                   Lance gets the screen test first
                   thing in the a.m., yeah yeah. But
                   I'm almost dead, man. It's late.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   Is that why you flubbed the line?

                             BOBBY
                    That's not why I flubbed the line.

         With the screwdriver, he mimics crossing out a word on a
         page.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   There's no point in arguing with
                   you. You know, we really need to
                   finish...

                             BOBBY
                   We can do it in the morning. I'll
                   be fresh and not seeing double.

         Wayne enters the frame, nodding.

                             BOBBY (CONT'D)
                   We gotta get up early, though. Like
                   six, six thirty.

         A beat.

                             WAYNE
                   Fine. Fine. I still don't believe
                   in mornings, particularly early
                   ones. But I'll do it.

                             BOBBY
                   You know, it's really a shame you
                   broke that alarm clock.

                             WAYNE
                   I know. Please don't give me any
                   shit about forgetting to buy a new
                   one.

                             BOBBY
                   I won't. So, tomorrow first thing,
                   okay?

                             WAYNE
                   Yeh. Six in the fucking morning,
                   though, I'm gonna suffer.

                             BOBBY
                   Don't worry about it, I'll make
                   sure you're up. G'night.

         He waves goodbye with the screwdriver and walks up the stairs
         to his bedroom.

                             WAYNE
                   Good night. Don't let the bedbugs,
                   etcetera, etcetera.

         Wayne puts his hand out and it nearly fills the screen. He
         CLICKS the camera off. Darkness again.

                             WAYNE (O.S.)
                   Hey, you have an alarm on that cell
                   phone, right?

            INT. SILVER LANCE PRODUCTIONS - LANCE'S OFFICE - DAY

            CU TV monitor.

                                BOBBY
                      ...140 units, nurse. Did you think
                      I wouldn't notice that? I've been
                      practicing at this hospital longer
                      than you've been alive.

                                WAYNE (O.S.)
                          (awful female voice)
                      I thought-- I hoped-- I...I didn't
                      know someone else had the same
                      impulses as I did.

                                BOBBY
                      Those impulses could help me,
                      nurse. You have your methods and
                      I...

            He gives the terrifying screwdriver a BUZZ OR TWO.

                                BOBBY (CONT'D)
                      ...I have mine. We can join forces,
                      you and me--

            Out on the scene.

            Lance, Wayne and Bobby are watching the action on a big TV,
            in the darkened office. On the couch, one intern gives the
            other a massage. Neither watches the clip.

            Lance kills the TV.

                                LANCE
                      Okay, that's probably enough.
                          (to the interns)
                      Guys, do you want to get the
                      lights?

                                INTERN #2
                      No. We're relaxing.

                                LANCE
                      Do I have to do everything in this
                      office myself?

                                INTERN #1
                      Yep.

                                LANCE
                      I didn't actually want an answer.

                                INTERN #1
                      Sorry.

            He rises and hits the lights.

                                WAYNE
                      You don't...you don't want to watch
                      the rest of it?

                                LANCE
                      Nah. I kinda got the point.

                                WAYNE
                      But the best part's coming up. He
                      recruits the nurse as his partner
                      and they break into the dispensary--

                                LANCE
                      Yeh. That's nice. Bobby. Bobby,
                      bubby. Bobby my boy.

                                BOBBY
                      Hi.

                                LANCE
                      That was a good fuckin' screen
                      test. You really scared me with
                      that screwdriver, dude.

                                BOBBY
                      I did?

                                LANCE
                      No, not really. I'm joshing ya. But
                      you did some good work there. Have
                      you acted much before?

                                BOBBY
                      A little bit, here and there. When
                      I lived in Europe, I did some
                      theater. Plus a yogurt commercial.
                      I played a container of Strawberry
                      Swirl.

                                LANCE
                      You got some talent. You know, you
                      and I should talk.

                                WAYNE
                      Uh, Lance?

                                LANCE
                      Yah.

                                WAYNE
                      What about my script? You want to
                      read the rest of it?

                                LANCE
                      Maybe later sometime, bro. In the
                      meantime, I'm gonna talk to my
                      homes Bobby alone for a little
                      while. Do you mind?

            He points to the door.

                                WAYNE
                      I...I guess not.

                                LANCE
                          (to an intern)
                      Hey money, do me a favor and get
                      the door for Wayne here.

                                INTERN #1
                      No thanks.

                                INTERN #2
                      He's a big boy. He seems pretty
                      capable of opening a door.

                                LANCE
                      Sometimes I'm glad I don't pay you
                      any salary. Wayne, could you?

            He points again. Defeated, Wayne rises slowly and exits the
            office.