seat
BIPLANES, each armed with twin Vickers machine guns. The height of 1917
aircraft design, built for the sole purpose of blasting German planes
out of the skies.
SUPER "FRANCE 1917"
JACK DRISCOLL and his buddy, MATT HAMON are flying two of the CAMELS at
the rear of the formation. An UPTIGHT BRIT - McKECKNIE, is flying along
side them. Hes as JUMPY AS HELL, scanning the skies for enemy planes.
Buddha, madame?
- Madame, lucky Buddha.
Thank God, my St. Christopher.
St. Christopher.
You see, my friend has been
urgently called to London
on a matter of
international importance,
and I have given him my
personal assurance
that you will secure an accommodation
for him on the coach to Calais.
- But, Signor Bianchi, I have already...
- Hector...
Excuse me, excuse me, gentlemen,
but Mr. Ratchett
Buddha.
And your haircut game is fucked up.
Girlfriend see that, she gonna shit on you.
This girl is different. All she cares about is Kevin Costner movies.
Im gonna let Kev do the foreplay, right? Mm-hmm.
And I figured I could get somethin from Garden of Weeden to make it interesting.
Costner, huh? Dances with Wolves. Mm-hmm.
Field ofDreams. Thats a corny motherfucker.
You gonna need some strong
His is the only one still occupied, and it doesnt look that permanent. In the window is a cardboard, handwritten sign that reads "Kwans Shaolin Kung Fu". What remains visible behind the poster and the security grate is an IMPRESSION of people moving and milling around.
INT. WORKOUT AREA - SAME NIGHT
ESTABLISHING SHOT OF KWANS SHAOLIN KUNG FU SCHOOL.
The students are doing their own thing, and the
Silent and endless. The stars shine like the love of God... cold and remote. Against them drifts a tiny chip of technology.
CLOSER SHOT
It is the NARCISSUS, lifeboat of the ill-fated star-freighter Nostromo. Without interior or running lights it seems devoid of life. The PING of a RANGING RADAR grows louder, closer. A shadow engulfs the Narcissus. Searchlights flash on, playing over the tiny ship