COMMAND POST - DAY (MAGIC HOUR) 2-A *
Where a MAN wearing a military UNIFORM watches through
the large open windows the helicopter as it continues
to approach. Before the skids have even touched down he
SEES the first of the MEN, dressed in CIVILIAN CLOTHES
but carrying full COMBAT GEAR, alight gracefully from
the chopper, double-timing in close order to one side,
the orders SHOUTED by one man lo
COMMAND POST - DAY (MAGIC HOUR) 2-A *
Where a MAN wearing a military UNIFORM watches through
the large open windows the helicopter as it continues
to approach. Before the skids have even touched down he
SEES the first of the MEN, dressed in CIVILIAN CLOTHES
but carrying full COMBAT GEAR, alight gracefully from
the chopper, double-timing in close order to one side,
the orders SHOUTED by one man lo
Command has just struck
a blow against British colonialism.
Be warned that I have a long arm...
...and Im prepared to fight
my enemies wherever they may be.
Dont forget...
...theres no security.
Police!
- Put your hands up! Against the wall!
- Move! Move!
What the fuck is this shit?
How much shit you want, man?
How much for this motherfuckin shit?
- Who you talkin to?
- You, pig!
- Who the fuck y
antennae pylons
already disintegrating.
INT. PASSAGE TO FLIGHT DECK
Heart battering her ribs, Fry runs forward, using hand-holds to
steady herself. Over a headset:
OWENS (V.O.)
They trained you for this, right? Fry?
FRY?
She doesnt answer.
INT. FLIGHT DECK - DAY
Fry harnesses in, starts running switches -- but fumbles a few
times, making mental errors. Finally she gets crash-shutters
open to reve
antenna flicking.
Above it, the chairs runner reaches its highest point - descends --- and just misses it.
WOMANS VOICE (OC)
(a southern accent. cool)
Do you see the lillies, Deedee...? Big as soup ladles.
TILT UP to a pale hand on the chair-arm. inside a faded pink sleeve - and UP to
ECU - A FACE, SKOCKING IN ITS MELANCHOLY VISAGE
A WOMAN - 50, a gaunt, shattered beauty. Not a flicker in her gre