BBC SCREENPLAY FORMAT

by

(Name of First Writer)

(Based on, If Any)

There should be onecontact address onlyin the bottom lefthand corner.Always include a phone number and an e-mailaddress if you have one.

INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION BATHROOM - NIGHT

In a sprawling, dimly-lit master bathroom, a Polaroid camera sits on the edge of a jacuzzi. A red light on the front of the camera flashes at first slowly, and then more rapidly. Moving shapes are reflected on the curvature of the cheap lens.

SUPER: PROLOGUE: DON GATELY

Two robbers, DON GATELY, 27, a giant dinosaur of a man, and TRENT KITE, 25, are bent over across the bathroom, their pants around their ankles and their asses facing the camera. Trent grabs a pink toothbrush from the counter and shoves it head-first into his asshole. We can see that Don already has a blue toothbrush lodged firmly in his rectum.

Both chuckle like high-school pranksters beneath not-so-innocent smiling clown masks. Don lifts a middle-finger at the Polaroid as the flash fires.

A photo rolls out of the front of the camera. Don hikes his pants back up, rinses the toothbrush, places it back in the toothbrush holder carefully, and snatches the photo out of the Polaroid.

FIRST ROBBERY SEQUENCE - SERIES OF SHOTS

Don grabs two antique shotguns out of a gun case.

Trent slips a coin collection into a trash bag.

Don mockingly and carefully stacks a pile of sundry valuables in the center of the living room.

Trent glances at a framed photograph of a man in a giant stetson with a feather in the band and his wife- the homeowners- and then sweeps it off a counter. It shatters.

Don places the Polaroid photo with graphic imagery in an envelope addressed to the homeowners along with a standard American Dental Association brochure on good dental hygiene and licks the flap, sealing it.

EXT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION - NIGHT

Don kneels next to the external electric box outside the mansion. He fiddles with some of the wires methodically but playfully.

DONReady...

A metal plate drops out of the box.

DON (CONTD)Set...

Don takes a deep breath.

DON (CONTD)Go!

Don springs to his feet and starts jogging toward the street through the front yard. The alarm immediately starts going off and the lights turn on in the house.

As Don approaches the streetlight, he whips off his smiling clown mask. We can see his great, huge rectangular head and Prince Valiant black hair. Hes truly a beast of a human being, but hes breathing heavily as he hurtles toward safety with a big grin on his face.

SECOND ROBBERY SEQUENCE - SERIES OF SHOTS

Trent and Don emerge from a car in a shady street.

Don expertly shunts the alarm box in the shadows of a mansion and gives Trent a thumbs-up.

Trent and Don enter the house in clown masks and begin lifting valuables.

Close up as Don shunts yet another alarm box at yet another mansion with a signature metal plate.

We see masked silhouettes of Don and Trent in yet another mansion.

Trent and Don shut the back door with full trash bags, exiting the mansion.

EXT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION - NIGHT

Don pulls a plate off another electrical box, inserts a metal plate, screws it in, slips his clown mask over his face, and gives a thumbs up to Trent.

Trent, also in a clown mask, nods at Don and opens the flimsy rear French doors to the mansion.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

GUILLAUME DUPLESSIS, 65, snores fitfully, his nose plugged by some sort of cold, in bed upstairs with a as Don and Trent break into his home. Theres a hot water bottle on his chest and a half-empty glass of OJ and a bottle of NyQuil on his bedside table.

2.

Guillaume rolls over after a particularly troublesome snore and sputters awake. Opening his eyes, he sees a pair of flashlights crisscrossing the hallway outside his bedroom.

Trent and Don enter the bedroom, their flashlights scouring every bit of the room except for the bed where the unexpected homeowner is quickly shaking off the last vestiges of sleepiness. He begins snorting and honking rather indignantly yet somewhat comically.

GUILLAUME(in Qubcois French)

[What in bloody hell is the meaning of this!]

Don stops immediately, turning to the furious little old man and shining his flashlight directly in the victims face. Don approaches the bed slowly, his clown mask more terrifying than ever.

DONWell, well, well, what have we here?

Guillaume protests even more aggressively and noisily.

TRENT(in a loud whisper)

Hey Don!

Don turns his flashlight to Trent, who has swung a towering seascape painting away from the wall to reveal a giant and irresistible safe hidden behind it.

Don tilts his head towards Guillaume, indicating that the unexpected homeowner may be a problem.

TRENT (CONTD)Don this fuckin safe is a cakewalk, could probably open this sucker with harsh language, almost.

Trent gives the lock a spin. Don takes a deep breath and reluctantly concedes.

Drawing himself up to his full menacing height and shining his flashlight in Guillames rheumy eyes, Don reaches toward his victim.

DONLooks like you and I better be going now, little man.

3.

Don grabs Guillaume by the ear and practically drags him kicking and snorting and honking out of bed.

DON (CONTD)Come come now, lets go for a bit of a stroll.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Don forces Guillaume into a kitchen chair, binding his arms and legs with clipped power cords from various kitchen appliances. Guillaume continues to protest ineffectually in Qubcois French, which Don ignores.

Suddenly Guillaume freezes. Seeing the burglar pull numerous cloths and towels out of drawers in the kitchen, Guillaume suddenly snaps to the implications of what Dons looking for.

GUILLAUME[Do not gag me, I have a terrible cold! My nose, she is a brick of snot, I have not the power to breathe through the nose!]

Still ignoring Guillaume, Don finds exactly the cloth hes looking for. Turning and looking over his shoulder at the victim bound behind him, Don holds up the cloth and gives it a little shake.

GUILLAUME (CONTD)[The combination to the safe, I will tell it to you- 18 right 23, 25, left 18! Many valuables are residing inside! Anything, please, just do not gag me!]

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Trent easily opens the safe. Inside are some jewels, a large book entitled International Affairs and Interdependent Affairs which Trent glances at and then throws over his shoulder

GUILLAME (O.S.)[Open it, please! Ill tell you anything!]

Beneath the valuables, Trent finds a box of mysterious VHS-like unmarked film cartridges. Except for one particular cartridge, marked only with a sinister yellow smiley-face sticker. He examines it for a beat, fascinated.

4.

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Don begins whistling a jolly tune as he rummages through another drawer. After searching for a moment, he pulls out a roll of tape and strolls leisurely over to poor Guillaume.

GUILLAUME[For the love of God, please do not gag my mouth!]

In goes the balled-up cloth, and over it several rounds of tape. Guillaumes screams are muffled through the gag, and his eyes bug out in desperation.

INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION KITCHEN - EVENING

The North Shore ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY, 32, stands in the kitchen opening the mail, wearing his signature and sizable feather-in-the-strap stetson and a three-piece suit with a golden star-shaped badge on his chest.

Just visible through the cracked bathroom door, his wife brushes her teeth in a red dress.

The A.D.A. opens an envelope and pulls out an American Dental Association glossy brochure on the importance of daily oral hygiene and narrows his eyes in apprehension.

INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - NIGHT

A DOOR SHUTS in another room as Guillaume DuPlessis grows ever more frantic and desperate. Little bits of mucous exit his nostrils, and his eyes bug out even more.

He begins hopping up and down in his chair, nudging himself toward the counter.

INT. WONDERLAND VALLEY MANSION KITCHEN - EVENING

The A.D.A. drops the American Dental Association to the floor as he slips a particularly graphic Polaroid photo out of the envelope.

His eyes widen with shock and horror as he realizes just what is depicted in the Polaroid photo.

The A.D.A. then looks toward the bathroom where his wife brushes her teeth with a pink toothbrush, blissfully unaware.

INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - NIGHT

A.D.A. (O.S.)HONEY!

5.

Guillaume slams his chair repeatedly into the counter, his eyes running with streams of tears and his jaw working furiously to dislodge the gag and his nostrils sucking and flaring desperately and painfully.

Guillaumes chair falls to the ground. He arches his back against the chair and screams at length.

CUT TO:

BLACK SCREEN

SFX: GUILLAUMES SCREAM CONTINUES

EXT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION FRONT YARD - AFTERNOON

The A.D.A. exits a police vehicle, wearing his standard suit + stetson + badge. Yellow police-line tape surrounds the mansion. Several cops are posted outside the front door.

The A.D.A. approaches the house slowly, his hands in his pockets and his stetsons brim casting a shadow over his face.

Entering the house, the A.D.A. dispassionately approaches the grisly kitchen scene.

INT. NEO-GEORGIAN MANSION KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Guillaume DuPlessis is frozen in rigor mortis, laying on his side in a coagulated pool of blood and mucus running from his nose. Still bound to the chair, his fingers are splayed out in agony. His eyeballs are threatening to dislodge themselves completely from his eyesockets.

The A.D.A. stands in the kitchen staring at the corpse, his face not visible. An officer on the scene begins to brief the A.D.A.

OFFICERThe security system was shunted sir, just like a dozen other houses over the past six months. Were pretty sure this one was-

A.D.A.You dont have to tell me who it was.

A camera flashes.

CUT TO:

6.

EXT. YARD - NIGHT

Don jogs lightly and silently back to the getaway car after yet another burglary, still wearing his signature clown mask.

ON DONS FACE

Don takes off the clown mask, grinning innocently.

FADE OUT.

INT. JANITORIAL CLOSET - NIGHT

SUPER: 8 NOVEMBER YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT

MARIO INCANDENZA, 18, is a menacing figure in the deep shadows of the janitorial closet. A grotesque and hunched silhouette, atop his head is an even more menacing Bolex H64 camera that gives him a kind of multi-eyed, alien-facial look.

A red light blinks slowly on the camera.

In front of Mario is a small puppet set. At Marios direction, a figure in the darkness turns on the makeshift stage lights.

A big-headed, elvis-looking puppet, JOHNNY GENTLE, clears its throat and begins to talk

CUT TO:

INT/EXT. INTERDEPENDENCE DAY FILM

CREDITS SEQUENCE

Here we get to see bits and pieces of Marios Interdependence Day film, shot on rough film. A sequence of real-life images, puppet re-enactments and newspaper headlines. Its a highly stylized and elaborate, if somewhat amateur, re-imagining of the pseudo-historical events celebrated each year on Interdependence Day.

SUPER: LET THE CALL GO FORTH, TO PRETTY MUCH ANY NATION WE MIGHT FEEL LIKE CALLING, THAT THE PAST HAS BEEN TORCHED BY A NEW AND MILLENNIAL GENERATION OF AMERICANS.

The big-headed Johnny Gentle puppet is surrounded by American flags and eager supporters at his inaugural ceremony. A banner behind him reads Lets Shoot Our Wastes Into Space. Fireworks shoot off behind the sign. Johnny is garbed in full-on glittery Elvis digs. He swings his mic around on its cord before beginning.

7.

JOHNNYAs President of the United States of America, I promise to be the possibly sometimes unpopular architect of a more or less Spotless America that Cleans Up Its Own Side of the Street!

We see a live shot of massive piles of waste buildup and dirty streets.

JOHNNY (CONTD)...Not going to stand here and ask you to make some tough choices...

We see smog over a city

JOHNNY (O.S.) (CONTD) ...standing here promising to make them for you!

The puppet crowd goes wild.

JOHNNY (CONTD)...promise an end to atomized Americans fractious blaming of one another for our downer-type internal troubles...

A puppet cabinet meeting with Johnny and the CANADIAN PRIME MINISTER, among others, seated on one side of a large table.

P.M. CAN...what is the date I can be pencilling in for the removals of NATO ICBM frappeurs from Manitoba?

As Johnny responds, HEADLINES flash across the screen.

SO WHY A NATO? - Editorial Header

MEXICO AND CANADA SIGN ON FOR ORGANIZATION OF NORTH AMERICAN NATIONS (O.N.A.N.); BUT QUEBEC SEPARATISTS RALLY AGAINST FINLANDIZATION OF O.N.A.N. ALLIANCE... - Header

JOHNNYPut that pencil away, you good-looking Canadian. Ive got more long shiny trailer-rigs full of large men with very short haircuts and white suits than you can shake a maple leaf at heading for your silos right this very.

8.

O.N.A.N. PACT PENNED - 24-point Superheader

CANADA NUCKLES UNDER - Tabloidish NY Dailys 24-point Superheader

JOHNNY (CONTD)Those complete totalities of Canadas strategic capacityll be out of your hair toot sweet.

OVERLOADED WASTE BARGES COLLIDE, CAPSIZE OFF GLOUCESTER - Boston Daily Header

GENTLE SPEAKS OUT ON A U.S. CONSTIPATEDLY IMPACTED ON CONTINENTAL WASTE AT U.N.L.V. COMMENCEMENT - Header

P.M. CANJohn, let me be the first world leader to call you a statesman.

JOHNNYWe North Americans have to stick together. Were interdependent. Were cheek to jowl.

P.M. CANIt is a smaller world, today.

JOHNNYAnd an even smaller continent.

An image of the O.N.A.N. logo: A bald eagle with a sombrero, clutching a maple leaf in its talons.

An aerial shot of the Statue of Liberty, holding aloft a giant cheeseburger.

SUPER: YEAR OF THE WHOPPER

Puppet P. TOM VEALS and Johnny Gentle sit at yet another large table with the same cabinet.

VEALS...the ad revenue, the marketing grosses just arent there any more, they arent.

JOHNNYTut tut now there champ, no reason to sweat the death of cable advertising-

VEALS-and radio advertising-

9.

JOHNNY*And* radio advertising and product placements and print magazines-

VEALSCable TV and print magazines are dead in the water. Billboards, bus ads, sports stadiums, theres nothing left to subsidize!

JOHNNY(turning to the camera)

Nothing left to subsidize... but time itself!

UNPRECEDENTED WHOPPER REVENUES IN THIRD QUARTER CREDITED TO GENTLES CREATIVELY PRO-ACTIVE RESUSCITATION OF POST-NETWORK ADVERTISING - Ad Week 14-point Header

FREAK STATUE OF LIBERTY ACCIDENT KILLS FED ENGINEER - Header

BRAVE MAN ON CRANE CRUSHED BY 5 TON CAST IRON BURGER - 12-point Subheader

The Statue of Libertys giant iron burger is replaced by package of Tucks Medicated Pads in another aerial shot.

SUPER: YEAR OF THE TUCKS MEDICATED PAD

Yet another puppet cabinet meeting. The Canadian Prime Minister and the Mexican President, among many others, sit around the large table.

Johnny Gentle sits at the center, only this time he has a rather large oxygen mask on his face, with a tube running beneath the table. His eyes rolled back, Johnny sucks in oxygen unsteadily and dramatically.

P.M. CANYoure looking vigorous and hale today, Mr. President.

JOHNNYHhhuuuuuh, Hhhhaaahh, Hhhuuuhh.

Emerging from the shadows, a dark and sinister figure, MR. RODNEY TINE, approaches the table and places his hands on it authoritatively.

10.

TINEThe presidents taking a little pure oxygen today, boys, and has authorized me as his oral proxy on this, may I say, historically opportune day.

The surrounding officials emit puzzled and apprehensive noises.

TINE (CONTD)Im sure youve all been briefed on the crisis going on just south of the Northeast Massachusetts border, the result of our somewhat premature institution of Annular Fusion waste management?

P.M. CANAnnular what?

Walking around the room, Tine reveals images on various easels surrounding the table. Images of chemical sunrises, glowing green ponds, shots of giant, multi-eyed mutant infants, men in haz-mat suits walking past towering barbed-wire fences laden with radiation warnings.

TINEWe must act. We must respond. And we must act and respond decisively. Swiftly. And decisively.

A geek with large glasses to chimes in at Tines signal.

GEEKYes, weve dedicated large swaths of American soil to Annular Fusion irradiation and destruction of waste. Its a necessary evil, and it this point it cant be undone. That said, weve come up with some projections on the costs of detoxifying the better part of four U.S. States, and I regret to relate that the figures were looking at are almost staggeringly multi-zeroed, gentlemen.

GENTLE TO CANADIAN PM: HAVE SOME TERRITORY - Header

TINELets pay the president the due tribute of proceeding right to the bone of the matter.

(MORE)

11.

No way we can possibly permit territory this befouled and waste-impacted to continue to besmirch President Gentles tight and tidier territory of a new eras U.S. Of A.

JOHNNYHhhuuuuuh, Hhhhaaahh, Hhhuuuhh.

CANADIAN P.M. TO GENTLE: NO, REALLY, THANKS ANYWAY - Header

GENTLE TO CANADIAN P.M.: BUT I INSIST - Header

CANADIAN P.M. TO GENTLE: LOOK, WERE ALREADY SWIMMING IN TERRITORY ALREADY, HAVE A LOOK AT AN ATLAS WHY DONT YOU, PLUS I DONT MEAN TO BE RUDE BUT WERE ESPECIALLY UNKEEN ON ACCEPTING HOPELESSLY BEFOULED TERRITORY FROM YOU GUYS, THERES REALLY JUST NOW WAY - Header

TINEWere going to give away the whole benighted smirch of ground.

GEEKExport it, one might venture to sally.

The Mexican President and other officials are shown suddenly with their makeshift eyebrows lifted almost to their hairlines in surprise and shock.

Tine places a large map of North American on an easel- the US in sterile white, Mexico in pink, but Canada a garish, meancing red.

GENTLE TO P.M.: LOOK, BABE, TAKE THE TERRITORY OR YOURE GOING TO BE REALLY REALLY SORRY - Header

Over the traditional map, Tine places a proposed reconfiguration of the Canadian-US border, one in which an enormous chunk of New York state now colored red instead of white.

SECRETARY OF STATEQuebec wont like this one bit.

MEXICAN PRESIDENT(nervously)

May I ask President Gentle how you are proposing to ask the honorable Prime Minister of Canada to possibly be able to accept vast swaths of egregiously poisoned terrain on behalf of his people?

TINE (CONT'D)

12.

GENTLE HAS COMPLETELY LOST MIND, THREATENS TO DETONATE UPSIDE-DOWN MISSILES IN U.S. SILOS, IRRADIATE CANADA WITH AID OF ATHSCME HELL-FANS - Header

WILLING TO ELIMINATE OWN MAP OUT OF SHEER PIQUE IF CANADA REFUSES RECONFIGURATIVE TRANSFER OF AESTHETICALLY UN-PLEASING TERRAIN - Subheader

TINEValid question. Simple answer. Three answers. Statesmansip. Gamesmanship.

(counting on fingers)Brinksmanship.

SUPER: FIN

INT. JANITORIAL CLOSET - NIGHT

The silhouette of HAL INCANDENZA, 16, lifts a black card with the text FIN from in front of the camera lens.

Once again in the janitorial closet, Mario stands facing his Bolex H64 camera from behind the puppet stage. On each of his shrunken, dinosaurian arms is a puppet of Tine and Johnny.

The stage lights turn off. Only the glow of the camera and Marios disfigured and grotesque silhouette remain in the shadows of the closet.

SUPER: INFINITE JEST: A FAILED ENTERTAINMENT

EXT. COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - DAWN

A football player kicks a football into the distance, lofted over a line of autosprinklers difracting glittering golden and silver flecks in the radiant sunrise.

SUPER: 19 AUGUST YEAR OF THE TUCKS MEDICATED PAD

CHAPTER I: JOELLE VAN DYNE

On the other side of the sprinklers, JOELLE VAN DYNE, 20, is hoisted aloft the other female members of the Pep Squad as the University of Arizona football team practices in the desert dawn.

She is green-eyed, red-gold haired, freckled and pale, but more importantly, cripplingly and agonizingly beautiful. She watches the players and practices Pep Squad routines with high energy but passive disinterest in the athletic proceedings. Around her, the other members of the pep squad seem faceless and expendable, but far more invested than she.

13.

In the thick of the brutal practice routines, ORIN INCANDENZA, 21, is getting slaughtered, beat to bits, ruined, and humiliated. Knocked to the ground by yet another faceless athlete twice his size, Orin gazes longingly through the sprinklers at the red-headed angel in the distance.

COACHGet up, you god damned dragass!

Orin gets up, catches a football hurled his way, and tries to take on a line of defensive players yet again, only to be this time hurled into the air and slammed on his back, the blinding sun above murdering his eyes as he coughs helplessly.

FACELESS ATHLETE #1 (O.S.)Little fucking mollygag.

FACELESS ATHLETE #2...bona-fried pussy.

Orin pulls himself to his feet, only to be shouldered brutally in the chest and launched to the ground yet again in yet another attempt at a practice exercise.

The COACH, 38, finally grabs Orins facemask and points to the mouth of the fields southern tunnel.

COACH...Seem to have some kind of empty swinging god damn sack where your balls ought to be, little twat.

Orin takes his football mask off and kicks it in defeat and finality as he walks with his head down towards the edge of the field as the coach continues to humiliate him from the distance.

COACH (CONTD)If you want to keep your scholarship, little Orin, you ought to stick to minor-type sports where what you hit doesnt up and hit you back...

Orin doesnt even protest. His uniform is torn and covered in dirt.

Orins walk to the stadium exit is agonizing and slow. He grits his teeth and sighs heavily, knowing he should never have even tried for the football team.

Orin kicks the grass ineffectually, ripping up a small clod.

14.

In the far distance, Joelle watches Orin leave with a twinge of empathy. She pauses in the midst of the routine as the other Pep Squad members continue.

Just as Orin slips into the long shadow cast by the stadium exit, a stray football soars aimlessly through the air and plops with a thud, skitters across the grass, and comes to a stop not ten feet from Orins exit trajectory.

Orin stops in his tracks, looking down at the fateful ball.

Turning, the coach beckons impatiently for Orin to throw the ball back.

Orin picks up the ball with a deep sigh and cocks his arm as though to throw it, but checks himself, unsure. He bounces it a couple times in his hand, knowing that he cant throw it.

Joelle turns one last time toward the field and, seeing what is about to happen in the far distance, pauses curiously.

Orin takes two or three unpracticed steps/trots, drops the ball from an unpracticed hand, and somehow unleashes a perfect punt.

Orins jaw drops as the football carves a perfect arc far over the heads of both the distant practicing football team as well as the distant and inaccessible pep squad.

Needless to say, everyone elses jaws drop in perfect unison as well.

Including Joelle, her lips parted just an inch in awe and unable to remove her eyes from Orin.

After a beat, the coach finally uproots himself and begins staggering towards an equally shellshocked Orin Incandenza. The coach spreads his arms in welcome with a reconciliatory smile.

CUT TO:

EXT. COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON

An Orin Incandenza, now fully-armed in shiny, colorful U of A uniform, approaches the ball and lofts it skyward.

Just in front of him, a dozen angry and monstrous linemen clash and beat the shit out of each other, but Orin stands far behind, safe from any sort of harm or physical contact.

But in the distance, the crowd is rapturous as the ball climbs ever heavenward, its arc angelic and serene, the cries of the crowd elated and thunderous far beneath.

15.

EXT. ANOTHER AND ANOTHER COLLEGE FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON

Again and again, Orin launches the ball skyward, doing nothing but kicking perfectly and driving crowds into foaming frenzies all over the collegiate United States.

EXT. U OF A FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON

Back in his home stadium, Orin kicks one more for the team.

The ball, as usual, arcs high over teams and crowds alike, but this time carves a path directly into the sousaphone of a rather corpulent and focused SOUSAPHONE PLAYER, 22, on the fringes of the playing field. The rest of the band music continues to play on, naturally, and the crowd continues its insane roar.

Joelle Van Dyne, however, muscles her way through the frenzied audience toward the hapless sousaphone player as he unmounts his instrument and process to attempt to dislodge the ball.

The sousaphone player is bent over his part of his butt crack emerging between his uniform pants and shirt when Joelle addresses him.

Joelles voice isnt that simpering, come-hither type youd expect from the prettiest girl of all time- its a barely-concealed Kentucky-inflected drawl. The more she talks, the more you can tell shes trained herself over the years to conceal it, but you can tell its there no matter how hard she tries.

JOELLEPardon me sir, may I...

Turning to face Joelle, with sweat pouring in beads down his swollen, red face, the sousaphone players eyes widen with shock and he tumbles right onto his back.

The sousaphone, however, falls with its mouth pointed towards the angelic Joelle, and out rolls a punctured and brutalized football, punted mightily by none other than Orin Incandenza.

Joelle politely reaches down to pick it up, her torment of the enraptured sousaphone player purely inadvertent, Joelle being innocent of any sort of manipulative intent.

JOELLE (CONTD)You wouldnt mind if I kept this, would you? You see, my daddy is the biggest fan of Orin in the whole world...

16.

The sousaphone player hoists himself off the ground and cleans himself up a bit, finally becoming self-aware.

SOUSAPHONE PLAYERThatd be fine, I, gee, sure can have that, my pleasure if youd...

JOELLEThank you ever so much.

She smiles a smile the tuba player will never forget and vanishes into the crowd.

INT. U OF A AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

At a Columbus Day Major Sport social function, dozens of U of A students mill about a cheaply collegiate-decorated auditorium with streamers and punch bowls and U of A paraphernalia and so forth.

Joelle Van Dyne wanders through the crowd by herself, looking through the audience for something. In both hands, Joelle clutches the deflated, torn football.

The U of A QUARTERBACK, rather dashing and exuding alpha-male status from every pore, makes his approach. Meeting her eye, though, he manages to produce the same quality and longevity of conversation as the earlier sousaphone player.

QUARTERBACKI, uh, hey, I better go that way.

The quarterback quails as their eyes meet, then points in the distance and books it away post-haste. Joelle at first pauses, returning eye contact pleasantly.

JOELLEAlright.

She smiles politely but somewhat distractedly, and continues on her search trajectory.

Nearby, Orin Incandenza and MARLON BAIN, 21, talk in excitedly hushed voices over bottles of beer.

ORINYou saw her here? Where?

MARLONShes here buddy, but listen, you know shes all the way up here, right? Shes out of anybodys league.

17.

ORINI know that I know that.

MARLONYou know what they call her?

ORINWhats that?

MARLONThe PGOAT dude. The Prettiest Girl of All Time. Thats the kind of girl that you cant just approach- shes probably waiting some cleft-chinned male-model-looking business man to telephone her from the back seat of his green stretch Infiniti-

ORINSure, but-

MARLONShe probably-

Someone too beautiful for words clears her throat behind them.

JOELLE (O.S.)Pardon me-

ORINWhat do you-

Turning to face Joelle, Orin is somewhat taken aback, but somehow manages to hold his ground.

JOELLEYoure Orin Incandenza, right?

ORINI am-

JOELLEYou wouldnt wanna sign this for me would you? My daddy is the biggest fan of yours in the whole wide world, and hed just be-

ORINThis football is absolutely torn to bits though, there has to be some other- where did you get this?

18.

JOELLEFound it. Just like I found you.

ORINI...

JOELLEThank you so much-

Orin signs the football, fumbling.

JOELLE (CONTD)Youve always been such an athlete?

ORINI suppose...

JOELLEYou suppose?

ORINI dont believe its all athletic, really, puntings pull for me, you know?

JOELLEOh yeah?

ORINWell no, a lot of it seems emotional, even, if theres such a thing anymore, spiritual, like, a denial of silence, 30,000 voices, souls, voicing approval as one soul.

Joelle begins to study Orins eyes with increasing curiosity as he waxes eloquent, his nervous glances away growing less and less frequent.

ORIN (CONTD)Just like mass exhortations and approval so total they cease to be numerically distinct and meld into a sort of single coital moan, one big vowel, the sound of the womb, the roar gathering, tidal, amniotic, the voice of what might as well be God.

Orin pauses for a beat, their eyes now totally locked.

ORIN (CONTD)If that makes any sense.

19.

INT. ORINS DORM - AFTERNOON

Joelle finishes forming a pile of cocaine into a perfect line.

ORIN (O.S.)Come on!

Joelle hunches over the desk.

JOELLEHold on!

She ingests the cocaine, carefree.

JOELLE (CONTD)Jesus.

Running out the front door, she grabs Orins hand, two young lovers in jackets and scarves, disappearing into the blue overcast sky and piled leaves.

INT. MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT

Orin and Joelle watch some sort of noisy corporate blockbuster. Joelle is loving it, bouncing up and down in her seat excitedly. Orin watches her more than the movie, trying to keep his arm around her as much as possible. Joelle spills the popcorn.

In the lobby post-film lobby, we catch the tail end of a phone call with Marlon Bain.

ORIN...I think Im officially in love dude...

MARLON (O.S.)Noooo way! This is awesome-

Joelle dashes out of the ladies room and interrupts his phone call affectionately and steals his hand.

EXT. U OF A FOOTBALL STADIUM - AFTERNOON

A hand plants the football firmly on the field. Orin stands back, focusing elsewhere as the rest of the team forms up.

On the sidelines, Joelle hefts a Bolex R32, complete with an array of interchangeable lenses and BTL meters. She has only one football player in her shot.

Joelle is dressed in darker colors, wearing a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and little in the way of makeup.

20.

Orin punts the ball skyward. Joelles fascination is half idolation of Orin, half the drive to push herself technically as she experiments with various lenses, focal lengths and so on.

INT. ORINS CAR - LATE AFTERNOON

Joelle does a line of cocaine of the dashboard of the car.

JOELLEIm nervous.

ORINI mean, dont be. My father is going to absolutely love you.

JOELLEReally?

Orins car begins climbing an incredibly steep hill. At the top is the Enfield Tennis Academy, an array of bulging buildings surrounding a number of tennis courts in the center.

Orins car pulls to a stop at the Headmasters House.

ORINYeah sure.

Orin leans in and pecks Joelle on the cheek.

ORIN (CONTD)Im sure he wont be able to resist using you in one of his films. Hell absolutely love you.

Joelle frowns at him as he begins to leave the car, concerned.

INT. HEADMASTERS HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON

Orin emerges first and then Joelle half a second later into the dining room.

Seated at the table before them are the Incandenza Family Members- Hal Incandenza, 11, seated next to a friend of his, MIKE PEMULIS, 11. Both clutch and open their hands impulsively, almost in rhythm.

Mario Incandenza, shockingly mutated and dwarfen, his head bulging to at least twice the proportional size, his eyes asymmetrical and his eyelids half shut, his dinosaurian shrunken arms clutched at his chest, and so on.

21.

But his implacable grin is disarming and adorable despite his grotesque overbite.

AVRIL INCANDENZA, 43, swoops in front of the couple out of nowhere to welcome them whilst balancing a plate of food. Shes the tallest woman youve ever met, and also strikingly attractive in her own way. Her smiles and friendliness to Joelle are gratingly fake in a way Joelle cant quite put her finger on.

Mario clumsily takes a seat.

DR. JAMES ORIN INCANDENZA, JR, 53, sits, hunched and stork-like, at the end of the table. He is six-foot-ten, with both long arms resting on the table. As Orin and Joelle enter, he places a hat on the table but doesnt take off his trench coat. He doesnt make eye contact with either of them.

AVRILJoelle, my dear, its so nice to have you.

ORINThis is the moms, Joelle-

AVRILPlease do call me Avril, Joelle. Please, make yourself at home. Youre one of the family tonight.

The conversation swirls at the table. Joelle is lost in a pleasant storm of intra-familial Incandenza quirks.

AVRIL (CONTD)(to Mario)

How was your day honey?

MARIOIt was great. Everything was great today.

Hals friend belches. No one reacts except for Joelle.

AVRIL(to Orin)

And yours dear? Im sure it was absolutely splendid.

ORINWell, Joelle and I-

PEMULISDo Carl Sagan, Orin!

22.

Orin clears his throat and begins to intimidate Carl Sagan, repeating billions and billions and billions ad nauseam.

AVRILJoelle, dear, do tell us where youre from.

JOELLEWell Im from in little town in Kentucky called Shiny Prize, my daddys a pH chemist there in town.

AVRILWhat brought you all the way to Arizona?

ORINShes a Film/Cartridge Studies major. Shes a genius.

Orin directs this at his father more than his mother. James grunts, still not making eye contact. Avril smiles and remarks that thats incredible.

HAL(loud)

The basic unit of luminous intensity is the Candela, exactly 1/600,000 of a square meter of a cavity at the freezing-temperature of platinum.

James rises, seeming to grow forever as he gets out of his chair, and disappears into the kitchen.

AVRILYes honey, thats perfect.

HALArent you going to ask me the freezing-temperature of platinum?

AVRILHoney, we know you know the freezing point of platinum. Now Joelle, by all means, dont you hesitate to make a Thanksgiving call to your family back home if you wish.

JOELLEThank you.

23.

James returns, shrinking back into his chair. Not touching the rest of his food, he begins to distractedly and meticulously mold his mashed potatoes into a sort of city-scape.

AVRILJames, honey, couldnt you find a way to include Joelle in your next production? After all, shes both a film student and now a heartily welcome honorary addition to our family unit.

James, looking up, shields his eyes from the UV lighting above in a way that almost resembles a strange salute.

JAMESAlright dear.

AVRILJoelle, what are you studying at the moment?

JOELLERight now the theories and works of Andr Bazin, he-

James makes a tormented face at the name.

JAMESAndr Bazin was an idiot.

JOELLEI never thought so.

JAMESAn idiot with a blatant disregard for more than half the equation of technological and artistic expression, Bazin disparaged-

JOELLEI always saw that tendency, if I may say, that disparagement of the self-conscious filmmaker, Dr. Incandenza, and correct me if Im mistaken, but I saw that disdain as connected, historically, to the neo-Thomist Realism of the Personalistes, though perhaps grating, they were an aesthetic school of great influence over French Catholic intellectuals circa 1930-1940-

24.

Across the table, Hal and Avril engage each other on the nature and correct application of the word circa to describe an interval or a specific year.

Joelle and Avril make challenging eye contact in the midst of this interchange, but Joelle focuses on the discussion with James.

JAMES(leaning in)

Well put, I must say. Perhaps his arguments are invalid in more ways than I care to express here and his pretentiousness grating, I will say I found that school-

Meanwhile, Orin has resumed his Carl Sagan impression.

Little Mario interrupts James and just about everyone else by planting his fork firmly in Jamess potato city-scape and destroys it.

Everyone finds this hilarious and Mario has the biggest, happiest grin on his face.

Avril pushes her champagne glasses away, unfinished.

AVRIL(in a mock Scarlett OHara accent)

I do declare, this Albertan champagne always gives me the vapors.

Mario thinks this is the funniest thing anyone has ever said and just laughs his head off, smiling affectionately at the moms. The rest of the table laughs politely.

Everyone takes this as the cue to end the meal. James silently rises from the table, receding into the shadows beyond the dining room. Avril glances at him as he departs, her smile unbroken, then glances back to the table.

AVRIL (CONTD)Now before dessert is served, Id ask if perhaps we could all join hands secularly for a moment and simply be grateful for all being together.

The family begins joining hands. Joelle looks to her right, where James was, looks around the room searching, then looks to the empty doorway through which he disappeared.

25.

Across James seat, Joelle leans over and takes Pemulis hand. On her left, she holds Orins hand.

Everyone else closes their eyes. Joelle opens her eyes, half glaring, half staring at Avril partially in fear, partially in disdain.

INT. ORINS DORM - NIGHT

Orin and Joelle sit close on the cheap dorm couch in the glow of the TV. An expertly made little video of Orin punting comes to an end.

JOELLEYou really liked it?

ORINIt was beautiful. I absolutely liked it.

JOELLEIm glad.

ORINI told you hed love you. I told you he wouldnt be able to resist using you.

JOELLEIm so fucking nervous. Do I have to go?

ORIN Yes you have to go! His films are straight up your alley. Youre a film student. How could you even not want to go?

JOELLEBut I cant even act. And hes your dad.

ORINYes you can, and, this is perfect. Now quit fussing and get outta here, kiddo.

Joelle disentangles herself from Orin. Orin playfully gives her a shove.

Joelle prepares herself to go in the bathroom, straightening her hair, washing her face. She pauses in the midst of preparations, staring at herself, wondering what shes about to get herself into.

26.

Emerging back into the dorm, she walks behind Orin to exit the room. Orin begins to talk.

JOELLE(playfully)

Shut the fuck up, asshole.

She disappears out the door.

EXT/INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

Its a dark, cold and drizzly night. A scattered array of glowing moonlight clouds dot the sky.

Joelle gets out of her car and approaches an old warehouse. She enters through a heavy steel back door.

She enters a freight elevator with a flickering light and stumbles as it begins to elevate with clanking chains and grinding metal.

At last arriving at the top, the heavy door begins to open outward.

INT. ORINS DORM - NIGHT

Back at the dorm, Orin rewinds the video, now alone in his dorm.

Orin cant take his eyes off the footage of himself. His jaw slacks just a touch. Orin mouths wow, or something similar.

Completely enthralled by the footage of himself, beneath his sweatpants, an erection is just barely but undeniably bulging.

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

On the other side of the freight elevator door, two silhouetted figures await her arrival: James Orin Incandenza, infinitely tall and ominous in his hat, dwarfing the twisted little Mario Incandenza, with his Bolex H64 once again mounted atop his head, leaning against a police lock that barely props his 45-degree-leaning figure.

Water drips in the background. The ceiling is leaky.

James takes half a step forward as Joelle emerges against her better judgement with a deep breath from the elevator.

SLOW FADE OUT

27.