1. EXT. BUS STOP SHELTER IN WINTER, DAY

There is a valentine lying in a pile of melting snow by the bus stop. It’s the kind that your parents used to buy in a box from the store and you gave one to everybody in class. It’s from Aaron to Stephanie.

From this we may deduce that today is February the fifteenth.

And Wednesday.

Andy thinks about this as he waits for the bus. There’s something heavy in his backpack.

His eyes wander over a penny on the road.

It’s tails.

But he picks it up anyway.

Some people come to the bus stop.

Andy slithers onto the roof. He lies on top and four women and a pastor come and sit under him.

PASTOR

Ok, there’s a seventeen year old girl. And she wants to borrow the car. So she asks her dad, Dad, can I have the car tonight?

OK, he says, you can have the car, but first you have to suck my dick.

Eww, DAD! That’s disGUSTing!

Sorry, honey.

Come on, Dad! I really need the car!

I need a blow job.

Dad!

That’s my final word.

Well, she says, OK.

So she gets down on her hands and knees, and her dad unzips his pants.

EWW, GROSS! DAD, there’s SHIT all over it!

Oh, I forgot. Your brother has the car.

Andy lies on top the shelter, sunning himself like a lizard.

The bus comes. Everybody gets on. Andy slides off behind them and they don’t notice.

The ladies show bus passes and sit in the back. Andy pays cash and sits directly behind the driver. First Andy tucks his bag under the seat. Then he climbs under the seat too.

The people never saw him, and the bus driver forgot him before he ever took his eyes off him.

The bus rides.

INSIDE> Port Authority> New York City

The bus parks. People debark. While the pastor talks to the driver you see the emergency window silently open and close.

OUTSIDE> Apartment building roof> New York City

Andy built himself a little squat on the roof, in a secluded corner, behind the elevator machine room. The superintendent hasn’t been up here all winter, either. Andy has a lawn chair under a tarp, with some plants and a view of the Empire State Building.

He unzips his backpack and upends it on the roof and a pile of cans of dog food falls out. Andy chisels them open with a Leatherman pocket tool and dumps the goop inside on the roof.

Now, most people don’t know that packs of wild dogs roam the roofs of New York City.

But they do.

They climb the fire stairs, cross the other roofs, and crawl out skylights. Andy feeds a million mutts every night. While they eat he plays the harmonica. Andy plays the “Can’t Help It If I’m Lucky Blues.”

Andy reads the stars on their paws and the notches in their ears, finds his fortune for the next day. They are his friends, his horoscope, his weather.

The dogs bark.

Because that’s what dogs do.

INSIDE> Stadium Warehouse

Where the crowd roars:

CROWD

WAR PUMPKIN!

RAH! RAH! RAH!

The football field takes up the whole warehouse floor. The officials and announcers stand on the dais in the center, which is sort of like a wedding cake and sort of like a pagoda. The crowd, mostly monkeys and eskimos and sea trolls, dangles above the playing floor from ropes spun through the rafters, and they bleat and hiss and kick each other more than they watch the game. But every kind of audience is here; tuberculoid bird-men that cough blood (and strychnine firewater) on the swamp orcs, who snap their toplocks and drink fermented penguin milk from a tied-off reindeer gut, and the human and hobbit and the occasional blue elf all ask to kiss Lucinda’s pet troll, who has not eaten in three years, and loves to dance.

The rain drums its fingers on the roof.

The announcer, a pink hippopotamus that stands on two feet, pebbly hide swathed in the blackest silk, with a red sash and cummerbund, he sniffs, adjusts his monocle, and whacks his cane against his black leather jackboot. He clears his throat and bellows:

ANNOUNCEMENT HIPPOPOTAMUS

(a mellow roar, echoed by those other three hippopotamuses behind him)

FORor THEe KOBOLDSolds!

STARTINGing QUARTERrBACKack!

BARONar SIRs BOGGERTert THEe REDed!

And the lemurs beat the temple drum.

Sir Boggert slides down a rope like a sailor and falls the last ten feet onto his team, who effortlessly catch him.

Baron Sir Boggert’s a dun little dog man, about yay high, with a scarlet uniform and a spiked helmet made of a turtle’s shell.

The crowd goes insane.

The Baron’s men huddle. There can be only eleven Kobolds on the field at a time and the rest of them, and there’s like two hundred of them, with pads on and ready to go, perched on a jib that’s slung from another jib. Their uniforms have three digit numbers.

ANNOUNCEMENT HIPPOPOTAMUSES

FORor THEe ZOMBIESies,

BARGAZOULoul!

Bargazoul, the voodoo shaman, rattles his seven-foot snake stick. At his command dead hands thrust from the ground, and ten zombies claw from the uneasy earth. Their uniforms are tattered and torn, and they have negative numbers on them.

The dogmen salute the zombies. Then the zombies salute the dogmen. Then the hippos sing the national anthem.

R. BOGGERT, KNIGHT OF THE EAST

[a prayer]

Oh, Dame Fortune~ We, the Kirby Tucker Gang, do beseech thee. Help us in this, our game of American Football.

Farewell, my friends. Farewell.

Up on the dais lemurs cast stones and divine the I Ching. They debate, then send the oldest and wisest to tell the hippos:

WISE LEMUR

[to hippos]

We are wise monkeys, wise monkey are we. Thus is so and this we see:

45. Ts'ui - Gathering Together [Massing]

above Tui, The Joyous, Lake

below K'un, The Receptive, Earth

The Judgement:

Gathering Together. Success.

The king approaches his temple.

It furthers one to see the great man.

This brings success. Perseverance furthers.

To bring great offerings creates good fortune.

It furthers one to undertake something.

HIPPOS

Play ball!

The zombies kick off. The kicker, dead skin sewn onto his bony foot, boots the grey leather football high and right. It grazes the audience and carnivorous apes swipe at it, but it dodges them and you see the football is actually an octopus and it wants to get away.

The octopus comes down and Kobold catches it. The octopus catches him and eats his head. Two dogmen grab them and drag the feeding octopus down the field. Dogmen are fast. Zombies are slow. Even though they have to go around the dais the Kobolds get the ball to the Zombie’s forty, but when the teams meet the zombies pull their heads off and eat them. Down on the thirty-eight and the referee, a little kid with a Monster Manual, blows the whistle and play ends.

The ref takes a ruler and folds the octopus back into shape.

Boggert pumps his fist three times.

Three more Kobolds slide down to the field.

They line up for the first down. But before the ball is hiked a zombie grabs a dogman and chews through his ribs.

REFEREE

B-CRREET!

Offsides, defense! Five yards!

The noseguard gurgles and dies.

Boggert pumps his fist and another dogman slides down.

Ready, hup! They hike the octopus, who wraps more tightly around itself. Boggert hands off to the halfback and they crash left, finds a hole so #706 can dive through. But a zombie tags Boggert’s ankle, almost breaks it, down with a twenty yard gain and only the whistle saves his life.

Next play the dogmen run.

I mean, flee. They scatter.

Baron Sir Boggert backpedals to forty, bends left, and wings it at #513, who’s wide open on the enemy’s twenty but does not see the throw because he’s running for his life. And the toss would miss, but the octopus throws out a tentacle and grabs the dogman’s neck.

Touchdown!

The octopus eats #513's face.

Boggert pumps his fist again.

The zombies get pissed.

The dogmen go for the two point conversion. They line up for a pass and get ready, but hup, hey, look at that quarterback sneak! #020 grabs a zombie’s elbow, braces against another zombie’s knee, and arches his back to give Baron Sir Boggert room to slide under him with the struggling ball at the cost of #020's life. Boggert gets one toe in the endzone, throws the octopus in a zombie’s face, ducks through two more, and shimmys straight up the goalpost. The zombies try to shake him down but he holds on for dear life. They eat all the other Kobolds, then go back to their line.

Baron Sir Boggert sighs pumps his fist ten times, and prays for someone who can kick.

INSIDE> Telemarketing Office> Sales Floor

Clint makes a paper airplane.

CLINT

Hi, Rick! This is Clint McFaul; good evening, sir. I’m calling you on behalf of the New Jersey State Fraternal Order of Police. Now, sir, your F.O.P. wants to wish you, and your family, a safe and happy holiday season, but, sir, this important call today, Rick, is to let you know that the BIG statewide ANTI-DRUNK DRIVING campaign is going on right now. Your F.O.P. wants to remind you to please buckle up for safety, always use seat belts, and most importantly, DON’T LET YOUR FRIENDS or RELATIVES DRINK and DRIVE. It KILLS, Rick, and it takes innocent lives. Now, Rick, to thank you for getting involved, you’re gonna get the brand new 2003 Fraternal Order of Police decal. Please, display it proudly; let people know how you feel about drinking and driving. Now, Rick, I want to tell you; a lot of residents are helping out the program with forty-five, thirty-five, or just twenty-five dollars. Rick, what can the F.O.P. count on YOU for? Can you reach up and grab the gold, Rick, the forty-five? Or would the silver and the bronze be easier for you? It’s just twenty-five. That’s great, Rick, that’s so generous of you, no, believe me; whatever you can give is great, it all helps so much and it’s for such a good cause. Now, I have to transfer you to our records department; they’re the ones who actually send out the pledge kit, so you have to talk to them for just a second, but hold on, and once again, thank you so much, Rick. You have a happy and safe holiday.

Clint hits a key, rests for approximately twenty seconds, and says that again. The office is full of people saying that exact same thing.

OUTSIDE> The Arctic

A fat man walks across a glacier. The glacier is big. The man is small. He climbs cliffs and tracks vast plains and fist-fights polar bears. He walks a ridge to the edge of the ice, where a satellite has fallen into the snow.

He takes out a toolbox and fixes the satellite.

It beams this message into outer space:

IS THIS REAL?

The wind whips up around him.

The man looks up in fear.

And black helicopters come straight out of the sun.

The camera runs away from them.

It goes straight out over the ocean. Plunging past the South Pacific, passes under the sun in Africa, takes a right turn in the Carribean rain, hits Florida and skims the beach all the way north, so low you can see the night swimmers, the bums sleeping on the beach. Something catches your eye on South Daytona Beach.

A glow-in-the-dark plastic star, about as big as a potato chip, half buried in the sand.

And there’s another one.

And another.

In fact, there’s a trail.

OUTSIDE> South Daytona Beach> Night

The trail of stars lead across the sandy lot between the Sea Gulf Motel and the Palm Breeze Day-Inn, which is fenced off to the road but open to the beach. Follow the trail down the sand to a bed of rushes under the fence, to the soft grasses beneath a scrawny tree, where at night Kimmi lays down her sleeping bag and sleeps.

The sun rises.

The stars go out.

Daylight rumbles over the dunes. Kimmi wakes of a sudden, as if from a strange dream; the kind where you do things you wouldn’t normally do.

She swims in the ocean every morning. She showers in a beach shower, dresses and puts on her shoes. Then she crosses the road and goes to Denny’s. The waitress is nice to her and Kimmi gives her an orange from her backpack.

Kimmi spends two hours there, drinking water. She reads every page of the paper. Then she goes outside and walks north. All day she walks and reads. She rests when she’s tired and when she’s hungry she eats.

She walks so far down the beach that when the sun comes down she’s circled back to Denny’s from the south this time. She sits in the parking lot and reads for a while, then she takes an apron and a name tag from her bag, puts them on, goes inside, and clocks in.

Kimmi works the night shift. She gets coffee for drunks and tourists, and she remembers the dream from the night before:

KIMMI’S DREAM>

Deep down Daytona Beach there’s another big hotel under construction. Thirty stories tall and ten units wide, it’s still only a hotel skeleton, nothing but floor and pillar, without a wall to cut a window in. The ocean’s roar fills it like a living thing, and the waves growl louder when the moon drags them up the shore. The electricians haven’t put in a wire yet, but on the second floor there is one room. Enclosed, hermetic, perfect, this hotel has only one room – the model apartment.

INSIDE> The Model Apartment

On the third floor they built a room to impress prospective customers. A honeymoon suite: walls, water and electricity, a waterbed, a hot tub for four. They have expensive neon tropical fish, deep carpet, mood lighting, scented soap. In the refrigerator, ham sandwiches and infinite booze. Plastic little airline bottles, and orange juice to mix.

They sneak past the guard with his lottery tickets, they jimmy the door with cancelled credit cards. They fuck, they flirt, for hours, they tear the sheets. Sometimes they wear cowboy boots. Then they do it again. They leave the balcony door open but the ocean doesn’t drown them out. She swings from the chandelier. And she breaks it. But the next day it’s fixed. Because the construction company thinks the salesmen did it. The sales people\ throw parties in here all the times, and usually it’s half-trashed when they get there. Sometimes. But no matter what they do, when the cleaning service comes in at ten they fix it. And the accountants bury it on an itemized bill.

At night Kimmi and Andy trash the room again.

INSIDE> Telemarketing Office

Clint, stoned, looks at the schedule.

It tells him:

CLINT McFAUL, 5:00 to 9:00.

He looks at the clock.

It says 4:40.

So Clint chills out and watches the other telemarketers. Mike, the guy who sits behind him today, speaks up and says:

MIKE

Hello. Hello, Winnifred. This is Carlos Pomona calling on behalf of the New Jersey State Fraternal Order of Police and Winnifred, the FOP wants to thank you for your past generosity and say, Winnifred. Winnifred. Are you there? Winnifred. What a stupid name. Hey, James. Did you hear that? Winnifred.

JAMES

I heard.

MIKE

Winnifred. What a stupid name.

JAMES

I heard.

JAMAL

OK, folks, heads up! We’re rolling straight back into NJFP16TC. This is a good list, a solid list, but there’re a lot of you who are not disposing of calls correctly. Use BOTH rebuttals on every call. If their husband isn’t home, get the wife for ten dollars. If she doesn’t buy, hit F5; we have a lot of people hitting F3 on calls that should be F5. It clutters up the list.

BOB MCKEOWN

And remember you’re professionals, people. Be courteous and polite.

Everybody laughs.

JAMAL

Bob knows the rules. Let’s hear it for Bob.

Everybody claps.

MIKE

Winnifred. Winnifred.

At that moment Clint takes off his headset and walks the fuck out forever.

JAMAL

Clint! Back on the phones!

CLINT

...back in a minute...

And Clint goes down the stairs and out the door.

INSIDE> Telemarketing Office

Reginald Denny looks down on the street, and watches Clint walk away. Reginald Denny, once a star of silent films, played Algy Longworth in the popular Bulldog Drummond film series. He also had a major role in the Adam West Batman movie, and flew the first remote controlled model airplane in America. Now he has prolonged his life by satanic means and, for his own hellish and inscrutable reasons, exists only to ruin Clint McFaul.

Denny glides across the office, resplendent in a wind-whipped black cape, and gives Mike a crisp new ten-dollar bill.

MIKE

What’s that for?

The sales contest?

REGINALD DENNY

Mike, that’s just for being you.

OUTSIDE> Streets, night

Clint goes out the door and crosses the street.

Perfectly silent black helicopters follow him.

And now we see as Reginald Denny wrecks Clint’s life most insidiously. First Denny makes the bus late. Because the bus was late Clint misses the train. While Clint has to wait for the next train Denny uses a sophisticated holograph projector to create an image of a Newark cop who stands directly behind Clint and stares at the back of his neck. When Clint looks at the cop, the cop looks away. Then he looks back again.

Clint goes home. Actually Andy’s home, but Clint has a key.

INSIDE> Andy’s Place

Viola, Clint’s girlfriend, is there when Clint comes in.

CLINT

Hi!

VIOLA

Hi! Gotta go.

CLINT

Oh.

They kiss. Exit Viola.

Clint leaves the lights off. He eats pizza, packs a bowl, and watches wrestling.

Clint smokes and strums his guitar.

The phone rings.

CLINT

Hello?

LITTLE KID [on phone]

Did you know...your phone number spells 744 - S H I T !!!

Ya ha ha ha ha!

[hangs up]

CLINT

Yes, I knew that.

Clint watches wrestling.

OUTSIDE> On Andy’s roof

Reginald Denny cuts a cable with a ivory-handled bowie knife, a souvenir from his film “Bulldog Drummond’s Peril.”

INSIDE> Andy’s place

The TV went off, and Clint strums the guitar aimlessly. For lack of anything better to do, he takes a shower.

Reginald Denny sneaks in the window and steals exactly five dollars from his wallet. He does that every night.

The doorbell rings.

OUTSIDE> Andy’s door

Clint (in a bathrobe) answers the door.

CABLE GUY

Good evening, sir! Would the primary cable subscriber for this building be home, please?

CLINT

Uhhh.

That would be me.

CABLE GUY

Good evening, sir. Did you know...someone is STEALING your cable?

CLINT

No.

CABLE GUY

[waves at the wall with clipboard]

Yes, sir. It’s true. Look, sir, here –

[waves at clipboard with pen]

We could cut them off right now, sir. I know how, honest.

[takes off baseball cap]

CLINT

You cut it off?

CABLE GUY

We could! You could come with me! And I can give you forms if you want to press charges.

CLINT

No, I don’t think so. I prefer to resolve this problem internally.

CABLE GUY

Oh.

CLINT

Thank you anyway.

CABLE GUY

Yeah... thanks to you too...

Clint closes the door.

The cable guy shakes his head, and then he climbs on the roof to investigate.

There he finds the cables that Reginald Denny has sliced.

CABLE GUY

What the...

Reginald Denny leaps out of the darkness and sinks his fangs into his throat, like a man biting into an apple.

CABLE GUY

*glk*

Andy walks down the sidewalk. He finds his keys. He unlocks the door. He walks into the apartment RIGHT UNDER THE MURDERER.

Pause.

From inside the house you hear Andy yell;

ANDY (off-screen)

NO CABLE?

INSIDE> Coffee Shop> Night

Clint, Andy, and Kimmi drink coffee. A lot. A woman reads some kind of awful poetry on stage. Clint and Andy and Kimmi try to pay attention, respect her artistic integrity, stuff like that. But someone giggles.

CLINT

It’s at times like this, when I’m at this crossroads, that I ask myself this question. I ask myself just four little letters.

W. W. Mr. T. D.?

What Would Mister T Do?

And I know the answer.

He would pity the fools.

So, I pity the fools.

One of those sudden lulls in conversation occurs as seventy-seven people find seventy-seven different reasons to not be saying something at that precise moment. As the dead silence sweeps across them the unfortunate poet on stage says;

POET

The business man’s business, to act like a monkey,

And divide everyone one, everyone who is funky—

CLINT, KIMMI, and ANDY

BRASS MONKEY

THAT FUN-KY MON-KEY

BRASS MONKEY

THAT FUN-KY MON-KEY

Things get rowdy, and yes, well, actually this goes on for a quite a while, actually, Kimmi and Andy clink their coffee mugs and they all refuse to settle down. The poet leaves quickly. The next victims take the stage.

But wait! Those people up there... they’re no poets! For one thing, they have a fiddle. And, an accordion! And... congas!

Clint, Andy, and Kimmi; their eyes shine.

The band, the Yellow House Players, tune up.

And then, there is a miracle.

The Yellow House Players can actually play.

Andy, Kimmi, and Clint bang the table in time, stomp their feet, hoot and holler. The Yellow House Players get into it. Kimmi and Andy get up and dance. A conga line forms. And everybody congas around the coffee shop.

Now as this happens, you see things out of the corner of your eye. Someone on the production team has been sneaking little notes into the camera frame. Not many, and not often. But out of the corner of your eye you see them. The actors do not see them. But you see them. The notes repeat themselves, randomly. Here they are, in the order they first appear:

BEING

YOU’RE

FOLLOWED

INSIDE> Bar

A really loud bar. Clint and Kimmi and Andy play pool and shout at each other, but they can’t hear anything.

ANDY

Kickers have such shitty jobs.

CLINT

Very futuristic.

KIMMI

Predictions of failure.

ANDY

Yes, Elbow bay.

CLINT

I represent the ego.

KIMMI

I represent the moose.

ANDY

I listen to Carlos Santana.

They drink. They play. And you can see these little notes that say:

SILENT

FILM

STAR

REGINALD

DENNY

STALKS

YOU

INSIDE> Bar

Later.

INSIDE> Bar

Much later.

OUTSIDE> Bar

They leave.

As they go, Reginald Denny, who has been there all along, follows them.

OUTSIDE> Street

Andy, Kimmi, and Clint stumble down streets, drunk as hell, and wander through the World Trade Center to catch the PATH and the subway.

INSIDE> World Trade Center Path Station> Escalators

They stand at the top of that humongous escalator bank of twenty escalators. The escalators are just sitting around, pointlessly spinning, going up and going down for four stories, and there’s nobody on them at all.

Clintt, Kimmi, and Andy choose their escalators.

KIMMI

Ready...

Set...

GO!

Then they race to the bottom.

I don’t know who wins.

They say goodbye at the bottom and Kimmi takes the escalator back to the subway. Clint and Andy take the PATH back to Newark.

INSIDE> PATH

Reginald Denny follows them onto the train. Andy and Clint are oblivious. There are only those three people on this train and even then they don’t notice him.

Andy pulls drum sticks out of his parka pocket and taps out a trip rhythm on the safety bar.

CLINT

[drunk]

De da da da...

Reginald Denny draws a silver harmonica from his cape. With a wisp of wicked air he drawls out a wicked blues. Andy and Denny begin this accidental duet, and it impresses the hell out of Clint.

CLINT

[to Denny]

hhHey, man. Nice cummerbund. What is that? That’s a cummerbund. Bet that catches all sorts of food. Hah. Food. I remember food.

ANDY

Seen it on TV!

CLINT

Like Mister T!

ANDY

The T will set you free!

Now that he’s all inspired, Clint busts an immediate move. He freestyles ferociously. Andy beatboxes. Reginald Denny plays rhythm harmonica.

Train stops. Clint and Andy debark, the old man stays. Denny hooks Clint’s wallet as he leaves.

The train leaves.

Cut to black.

BLACK SCREEN

VOICE

Taxi!

(Tires screech)

VOICE

Where to, honored sir?

VOICE

59^th and 2^nd. Pronto!

(Tires screech)

INSIDE> Subway system

Kimmi rides the subway.

Waits for the subway.

Rides.

Waits.

Waits. There’s nobody in the station except for two big fat bald gay guys; Aldo lo Curio and Adolph Delph. The subway comes and they get on. Just as the doors are about to close someone comes running down the stairs.

GUY RUNNING DOWN THE STAIRS

Hey, hold it! Hold it!

But the guy stops short and does not get on the train.

GUY WHO WAS RUNNING DOWN THE STAIRS

(in a curious tone)

Oh. Never mind.

INSIDE> Subway car

Kimmi, Aldo, and Adolph think nothing of it. Nor do they notice the other person on the subway, who is Reginald Denny. The doors close and they pull away.

Denny serenades her with the harmonica.

She pays him no mind.

Denny smirks.

The sign on the train says, STATEN ISLAND SUBWAY.

OUTSIDE> Outside Andy’s place

Coming down the street they sing;

ANDY and CLINT

[still drunk]

No-nae-never!

No-never, no more!

Though I’ve been a wild rover

OUTSIDE> Stairs to Andy’s place

For many a yeaarr

And spent all my money

On whis-key, and beer

OUTSIDE> Andy’s door

Sing no-nae-never!

No-never, no more!

Though I’ve been a wild rover...

Andy unlocks the door. Clint goes inside. Andy goes inside. Andy’s shadow stops, and looks around. The coast is clear. Andy’s shadow steps off the bottom of Andy’s feet and scampers down the stairs.

INSIDE> Andy’s place

Andy turns on all the lights. This place is really nice. Soft light fills the place, keeps it shadow-free. Books and pictures cover the room so thick you could read this apartment like a comic.

Andy devoted one wall to his old dog, Roo. Candles burn on the shrine.

CLINT

Cable’s out.

ANDY

They’re on to us. See you tomorrow.

Andy goes into his room and shuts the door. Clint lies on the futon and falls asleep with a televangelist on TV. The televangelist is the fat man from Antarctica.

J. J. St. JOHN

Thou shalt take the drugs that I, the Lord thy God, hath made for thee.

Thou shalt forge prescriptions.

Thou shalt take all the pills thou can.

OUTSIDE> Night, in a nice part of town

The shadow goes out and robs the homes of the rich. It takes exactly one thing from each house.

INSIDE> Andy’s Basement

The shadow slides through the window and across the floor to its velvet nest, where it curls three times around itself and goes to sleep.

The basement overflows with stolen silver, fine jewelry and paintings by old masters.

OUTSIDE> Eastern Seaboard of the United States

That night it snows.

INSIDE> Andy’s place> Morning

The blizzard hits. First thing Clint and Andy and do is smoke a joint. Then they watch Friday” and wait for it snow some more.

CLINT

Snow ready?

ANDY

[looks out the window]

Nah.

Clint makes twice-baked potatoes. He takes good baking potatoes and rolls them in olive oil, kosher salt, and pepper. Then he spikes ‘em and bakes ‘em at 350̊. After twenty minutes he takes them out and scoops them out, leaving the outside as a shell. Then he takes the insides and mooshes them with butter, cheese, milk, and scallions, and fills the potatos back up with their mutilated intestines and bakes them again until they’re done. Reality melts around the edges and the movie starts to come apart. Andy takes a spray can of Ubik, a patented reality fixative, from under the sink, and pastes the story down.

CLINT

Snow ready?

ANDY

Soon.

OUTSIDE>

Snow piles up.

ANDY

Almost...

INSIDE>

Clint puts on thermal underwear, three pairs of socks, a wooly scarf, and thick mittens...

CLINT

Check.

ANDY

[dressed the same]

Check.

CLINT

Good to go.

ANDY

Let’s roll.

and OUT INTO THE SNOW>

They go.

OUTSIDE > Central Park

Clint and Andy go walking in a winter yuppieland.

Thirty people stand on a bridge and throw snowballs at the five people in the courtyard below. Some of them retreat, some return fire, and the smart ones go on top of the bridge and throw snowballs at the fools below.

The fools are Clint and Andy. Snow covers them; it is their insulation, armor, camouflage.

A radio reporter tries to interview them.

REPORTER

Who are you aiming at? Do you know them? What’d they do to you?

OUTSIDE> SLED HILL

They sled with the hundreds of other sledders, on garbage bags filled with snow. Hefty sacks filled with snow work surprisingly well when you get the snow packesd and they catch air on the some jumps. Clint and Andy go down and then up to go down and back up again.

Then Andy makes a snowball.

MAN WITH SNOWBOARD

[to cell phone]

Well, we’re expecting a huge revenue turnaround-

*WHAP*

MAN WITH SNOWBOARD

WHO THREW THAT?

Clint and Andy sled away.

CLINT

Fat man!

ANDY

Fat woman!

CLINT

Steer between them!

BOTH

AAAH!

THUMP!

OUTSIDE> Central Park

His children build a snowwoman as this guy talks and talks on his cell phone.

GUY

[to phone]

Sure it’s pretty now but it’ll stick around for months on months getting browner and brownOW!

ANDY

[shouting invisibly from his sniper position]

Pessimist!

GUY

Fuck you!

[thwap!]

Ow!