fine.
He was arrested in
for selling pornographic bibles.
Charges were dropped when the
church didnt turn over the bibles.
Theres nothing on him until
when he was picked up in EI Paso...
...for smuggling a truckload
of rich, white Americans...
...into Mexico to pick melons.
He was sent to the state hospital
for mental observation.
I think we picked ourselves
a queer bird, angel. Anything else?
fine.
We hear a bit of thunder and Foley cuts a fast look out the
front door. When he turns back, he sees that Lorettas having
some trouble fitting all the bills into the envelope.
FOLEY (CONTD)
Here, give me the twenties. Ill put
em in my pocket. Okay, I havent had
to give my partner a sign; thats good.
Now, hes gonna wait thirty seconds
till after Im out the door, make sure
you havent set off t
fine-pointed drill bores into the amber toward the trapped bug. Orange flecks fly. The mosquito trembles. The drill continues, stopping just before it touches the tiny body.
A SHINY PAIR of thin needle-nose pliers reach in the borehole and extricate the mosquito remains. These are dropped on a brightly lit glass slide. A conveyor belt starts, and the slide moves along. arriving under a long-lense
concrete, ripping up hunks of
stone. MacLeod fans his blade.
MACLEOD AND THE MAN"S SWORDS
clang in the tunnel, pulverizing cars, gouging columns in
showers of brilliant sparks.
Running Feet, Shouting VOICES, distant SIRENS.
His opponent is outmatched. Surging forward:
MACLEOD
cuts off the Mans head. A shimmering energy surges between
the corpse and MacLeod. MacLeod starts to glow. The garage
is c
CONCRETE PASSAGEWAY. 2.
TITLES CONTINUE as TINA GRAY, a strong girl of fifteen in a thin
night shift, moves towards us down a dark concrete corridor. Her
steps quicken as TITLES appear in the portion of frame she leaves
free.
A subliminal COLLAGE of SOUND threads in and out of the MUSIC.
Distant insane LAUGHTER. Slamming iron DOORS. A bleating animal
CRY. A LAMB, white and blank-faced, skitters a
fine. Really.
(looking up)
Its like I said. Its just part of the
past now. It doesnt matter anymore.
She turns, and before Mr. Weaver can respond, shes out the door.
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY
Alex moves quickly through the mass of STUDENTS, wiping the remnants of
half-tears on her coat sleeve.
CUT TO:
INT. HIGH-SCHOOL CAFETERIA - DAY
Fun-time. Total chaos. If youve been to high-school you kn
concrete
monument...
the headstone
for the town for Northfork.
This dam gate will close...
the water will rise
over the plains,
and cover our businesses...
our homes...
and our well-being.
We have lost Northfork.
We will be losing
our dear son...
but we will gain the hope,
the courage...
to move
to a higher ground.
Were all angels.
It is what we do
with our wings
that separates us.
What are we wa
concrete.
This game started with a beautiful house.
A bus without driver.
A beautiful box.
A beautiful friend.
In fact, I made a mistake. This game started long long ago.
It started with a sick word.
Like: Transfer.
Why not mammouth?
This made mother crys.
In all, doctor, thay dont like anything.
Your situation is very urgent...They all talk nonsense.
Their trousers are too bad.
Look! Imagine tha
Michael Script
-Night.
-Good night.
Right here is fine.
Think this is bleak enough?
My ears are frozen, my feet are frozen,
this is as far as it goes.
Malt wont like this.
-Whats he not going to like?
-Hell find something.
Besides us, you mean?
Yes.
Huey....
You sit in the sled.
Santa, Sparky...
...presents...
...reindeer...
...fake snow.
-What are we missing?
-Children.
Let them out.
Let them ou
fine, maam.
(sighs)
Scalpel!
Thanks for the heads up, doll.
Scupel.
Man:
Wait! Hold em up!
Moy, I need a big scupel
for German Shepard surgery tomorrow.
No forget it.
Prep it up for me.
Hey, May, hold up.
I want to ask you something.
What are you going
to be for Halloween?
Ive just been wracking
my brains, you know,
trying to come up
with something original.
Do you got any ideas?
You have a beaut