A pie chart. A bar graph. A voice drones. We pull back, noting that the graphics are being projected on a white wall. A BUSINESSMAN is speaking in flat tones, using a laser pointer liberally.
This secondary trend will continue
through the third quarter, manifesting
our stock up to two cents a share.
Slide… here we have projections in
terms of functionality shown by—
TOM
(offscreen)
Functionality? What the hell kind of
word is that?
Amid quietly shocked reactions, Tom stands.
You know, the last time I looked
it up, the word was function.
He strides to the front of the room, snatches the speaker’s pointer, and slides a chair directly in front of the screen.
I’ve got a visual of my own I’d like
to introduce, if it pleases the board…
He turns swiftly toward the back wall, drops his pants, and bends over.
Here’s a fourth quarter projection
for ya, me hearties!
Tom’s pen, which has been holding his head up while he sleeps through the meeting, snaps. He sits bolt upright, and grunts.
A comment, Mr. White?
Tom looks around, shakes his head. As the businessman continues to drone on, Tom sighs.
Now here in the fourth quarter, slide…
this here is the part we’re all excited
about…
INT. OFFICE - CUBICLE ZONE
Tom is hunched in his cubicle, tapping on his keyboard. He sneaks a look back over his shoulder at the man working across the aisle from him, who has just happened to glance over at the same time. Startled, they turn back to their screens.
Tom’s phone rings. He grabs it immediately.
Accounting, this is Tom. How can I—
RAVEN
(on phone)
You can start with my neck and work
your way down.
TOM
(brightening immeasurably)
Hi! What are you up to?
RAVEN
(on phone)
No good, as usual. When are you going
to get out of there today?
TOM
Say the word and I’m out the door.
RAVEN
(on phone)
“The word”. Listen, I’ve got to talk
to you about tonight.
TOM
Sure! With the exception of the
last two weeks, this is one year I’ll
be glad to see go.
RAVEN
(on phone)
Me too. But there’s… something I
have to do.
Tom’s face suddenly registers a mixture of terror and anticipation.
What… you mean…
RAVEN
(on phone)
Yes. Just after midnight. Would you…
would you go with me?
TOM
Of course! Do I need to… prepare in
some way?
RAVEN
No. I’d just like you to be there.
It’s already planned. Just leave it
all up to me.
TOM
All right. So what do we do until
midnight?
RAVEN
I suggest we go get ourselves a couple
drinks. I’ll be waiting downstairs.
TOM
Then I’ll see you there.
RAVEN
Bye.
TOM
Bye.
He hangs up the phone, his face still uncertain, and then it breaks into a smile as he gathers up his coat.
INT. PURGATORY NIGHTCLUB - 7:00 PM
Music blares, lights throb, and people crowd the dance floor under the flashing PURGATORY sign. Tonight, instead of showing music videos, the video screens are showing large crowds in Times Square.
Tom stands at the end of the bar, exactly where he was the first time he saw Raven, drinking a beer. Raven is in the same spot too, but now she looks over at him ever few seconds and smiles, pretending not to see him and failing. He raises his glass to her, and she raises hers in return.
He moves over to her, and just as he’s about to speak, she lunges for him, kissing him savagely, almost knocking him off his feet. He returns it, and they stop just short of sinking to the floor. When their lips finally part:
(drunker than we’ve seen her before)
Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not being too
forward, am I?
TOM
Not really. I’m still conscious.
RAVEN
Well… It’s still early.
EXT. CITY STREET - PURAGATORY CLUB - MIDNIGHT
The streets of the financial district are deserted and silent. The doors of the club suddenly burst open, and Tom and Raven emerge, to the final strains of a club remix of “Auld Lang Syne”. Raven staggers a bit. Tom manages to keep her upright.
Whoa there! You sure you’re still up
to this?
RAVEN
I’m all right, all right? Just let
me get some fresh air on the way to
the car. I’ll be fine.
INT. CAR - NIGHT
A small two-seat sports car skims along the city streets, all alone. Tom drives as Raven leans out the window, trailing her hair behind her. Some kind of industrial noise music is blaring out of the radio. Tom seems nervous about her slightly drunken state.
(slightly slurred)
When are you going to let me drive?
TOM
You just worry about getting prepped.
RAVEN
I am prepped. I’m always prepped.
(yelling out the window)
I was born prepped!
TOM
Look, what if I just took you home
and—
RAVEN
No, we can’t go home! I need to do
this tonight. Will you stop worrying?
God, I hate this music!
She neatly lifts one of her boots and plants it in the stereo. The headlights flicker momentarily and yellow sparks sputter from the dashboard as the music cuts out.
Hey! Don’t do that!
RAVEN
So what? We’re all going to hell.
Turn here. Cut the lights.
EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT
Tom turns down a blind alley and shuts off the headlights. He eases to a stop along the wall, just inside the alley. At the end is a single metal door and a large black Cadillac. Tom shuts off the engine.
Stay here.
TOM
Are you sure you can do this?
RAVEN
(checking herself in the mirror)
Abso-motherfuckin-lutely. Can you
see all right from here?
TOM
Yeah. Just be careful.
RAVEN
Baby, you worry too much. Kiss for
good luck?
He leans in and gives her a small peck, but she throws her arms around him and drags him down out of sight. They resurface a second later.
Here goes nada.
She hops out of the car.
Be careful…
She puts a finger to her lips as she walks over and crouches on the near side of the dumpster. She bends down and removes a pistol from her boot. Tom ducks down but watches through the steering wheel, waiting in breathless anticipation.
Here we go…
Raven presses her back against the dumpster, waiting patiently. At the end of the alley, a door swings open, spilling yellow light into the alley. Raven looks at Tom, winks theatrically, and then swings around, leveling her pistol at the door.
Raven gets off one shot, and the figure that now stands in the doorway ducks. Her second shot hits, and the yellow light is turned orange by an impressive spray of red. The figure falls. Tom gasps, fascinated.
Suddenly, the light bulb inside the door shatters as another shot is heard. An arm with a gun swings into the doorway, starting firing blind. Raven jumps back behind the dumpster as shots spark off it, making it ring like a bell. Raven ducks down, waits a few seconds, and swings out again.
She fires at her target, who has cautiously stepped out into the alley. He dives for a nearby pile of trash bags that bounce as Raven’s shots hit them.
Raven’s gun clicks.
She ducks back behind the dumpster. Tom watches in horror as she sets her gun down on the ground, bends to her boot again. Meanwhile, her target has heard the click. He starts running toward the dumpster, jumping up on some boxes and then onto the top of the dumpster itself.
He jumps down just as Raven stands and turns around. They collide. The two stagger as if performing a ballet leap, then slam down on the hood of the car Tom is in, the man pinning Raven’s head under his midsection. Neither moves.
Tom jumps out of the car and runs around to them. Blood is spreading quickly, running down the hood and grill in sheets, but we can’t tell whose it is. Tom rolls the man off Raven and we can see what has happened. By jumping on her, the man has effectively gutted himself on the switchblade Raven had just pulled from her boot, which skitters away across the pavement.
Raven now lies across the hood, covered in blood, which steams softly in the moonlight. Her eyes flutter open for a second.
RAVEN’S POV
The moon, high above, bloated red and dripping. Her eyes close.
EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT
Oh, Jesus…
Tom picks up the blade, closes it, and puts it in his pocket. Then he picks up Raven, bends his ear to her mouth. He manages to open the rear door and tries to prop her up there. She only slumps to the side, the back of her head leaving a wide smear of blood across the white upholstery.
Now also covered in blood, Tom gets back in the driver’s seat and sits there for a moment. Bells are chiming in the distance. Although he’s sweating, his breath plumes in front of him, and he shivers.
He looks up, into the rearview mirror, but can’t see Raven. He reaches down, turns the key in the ignition.
The car sputters, the interior light flickers, but it won’t turn over. A thin wisp of smoke starts to rise from the remains of the stereo. He slams one fist against the steering wheel.
Shit!
Flecks of blood from his hand spray across the inside of the windshield. He sits back, starting to panic, but manages to get a grip on himself.
He turns the key again, and again the car will not start. He repeatedly beats his fists against the steering wheel, flinging more blood.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!
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