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| AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have endeavored to get as close as possible to screenplay format using WritingML. Believe me when I say the final draft I have is correctly formatted. LOL. I hope you enjoy this--it was very fun to write... chimpy121 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** FADE IN INT. A HUGE CONCERT HALL IN PUERTO RICO CREDITS ROLL over the teaming crowd of thousands that pack the hall, undulating to the hot rhythm of Salsa music. On stage a colorful pageantry of dancers in WIDE COLLARED SHIRTS AND BELL-BOTTOM JEANS whirls to the beat. One dancer, a beautiful woman in a FEATHERED TIARA and a SKIMPY COSTUME, pulls away from the group and steps to a microphone. She is LA GATA, and she begins to sing. Her voice, strong, proud, and full of passion, rolls through the crowd. Cheers and applause erupt from all corners. END CREDITS EXT. A RUNDOWN HOTEL, POOL AREA—MID-AFTERNOON Surrounding the pool are PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS and GRIPS, some holding large folding reflectors, others sitting on equipment boxes or standing around an outdated video camera mounted on a tripod. No one moves; all simply stare at SPRINKLES, a small poodle standing near the edge of the pool. The poodle does not look happy; it is staring at the old camera and growling. PHILLIP PARKER, a thin, pale young man in shorts and a T-shirt, stands a bit off to the side away from the others; he manages to look ill and furious at the same time. MANNY (Shouting) Phillip! Get over here! Phillip! Phillip! Phillip walks over to MANARD BERNSTIEN (MANNY), a rather plump man encased like a sausage by a dark gray suit. Thick pools of sweat ring the pits of his jacket and his eyes are darting, frantic. He scurries from behind the camera to the poodle, almost trampling SEAN RHODES in the process. Sean, a big-boned, unconventionally handsome man in shorts and a polo shirt, shoots an annoyed glance at Manny, takes a drag from his cigarette, and ROLLS HIS EYES at Phillip. Phillip SHRUGS. PHILLIP (Quietly, to Sean) I told him to hire a dog. Phillip shuffles over to Manny, who studies the dog with a critical, frantic eye. MANNY (Pointing at the poodle and whispering vehemently) Why won’t she get in the pool? PHILLIP How should I know? She’s your dog! Manny shoots a glance over his shoulder at a short, bald Hispanic man in a suit. He is THE CLIENT and face is contorted in frustration. MANNY I think he’s getting angry. The Client begins to stride toward Manny and Phillip. MANNY (In a low voice) Shit! THE CLIENT (Pushing his face into Manny’s) What’s the problem? Phillip begins to EDGE AWAY. MANNY (Fidgeting with his jacket) Um. Um. Uh. The dog, uh, won’t uh, go swimming. Phillip is almost out of reach. MANNY Phillip! Phillip JERKS BACK toward the two men, casting a baleful look at Sean. Sean takes a drag from his cigarette and chuckles, shaking his head. THE CLIENT I thought you said that this dog was trained to swim. MANNY Uh. Um. Phillip knows the dog’s owner. THE CLIENT (Turning to Phillip) Well? Can this dog swim? PHILLIP I was… told that the dog could swim, yes sir. THE CLIENT (Angry) You haven’t actually seen the dog swim? PHILLIP No. I didn’t think it was— THE CLIENT You do know that this entire ad campaign for my hotel relies on a swimming dog, don’t you? PHILLIP Yes, sir. THE CLIENT (Shouting) Then why do you have a dog that doesn’t like water?!! Huh? Answer me that! PHILLIP (Glancing nervously at Manny) Well, see, you should ask— THE CLIENT Look. I’m paying you people. You’re taking up my time and inconveniencing my guests. MANNY Uh, we just want to get— THE CLIENT I gotta go take a piss. When I come back, I want that dog swimmin’ around like goddamn Aquaman, you got that?! PHILLIP Yes, sir. The Client storms off the set and into the hotel. MANNY (Turning to Phillip) Go get me some lunch. PHILLIP What?! MANNY Lunch. Bacon double-cheese burger. Large fry. Large diet soda. Manny turns his attention to the poodle, bending down to gently stroke its puffy coat. MANNY That’s a good girl. You’ll go swimming for Daddy won’t you, Sprinkles? PHILLIP (Staring at the scene in disbelief) Lunch. He turns and begins to stalk past Sean toward the double doors of the hotel. SEAN Where ya going? PHILLIP Lunch detail. Shaking his head, Sean watches Phillip go, then starts tinkering with the camera. INT. PHILLIP’S CAR—MID-AFTERNOON The car: a ragged DATSUN 210. The interior: loaded with garbage; old fast food wrappers, soda and beer cans, books of all types, wrinkled clothing, audio tapes, and tools all vie for space in the front passenger seat alone. XYMOX can be heard moaning a dirge-like opus over the stereo. PHILLIP (Imitating Manny, but with a baby voice) Phiwwip. Go get me wunch! Wunch! Wunch! I want my wunch! He pulls the car into the drive-thru of a fast food burger joint; no one is in front of him, so he’s able to drive directly to the microphone/speaker at the outside menu. PHILLIP I got your lunch right here, fat boy. He swings his fist, mocking a punch, and ends out SLAMMING it into the dashboard. PHILLIP Ow! Phillip suddenly SPAZZES OUT, releasing built-up frustration. The car VIOLENTLY QUIVERS during this outburst, shock absorbers creaking in protest. Then, just as suddenly, Phillip goes still. PHILLIP Much better. VOICE (O.S., loud and distorted over the drive-thru speaker) Are you all right? Phillip almost leaps out of his skin. It takes him a moment to recover. PHILLIP Yes. I need a bacon double-cheese burger, a large fry, a large diet Coke, and a double-scotch please. VOICE (O.S. over the speaker) We don’t serve alcohol here, sir. PHILLIP (Under his breath) No shit. EXT. THE RUNDOWN HOTEL, POOL AREA—MID-AFTERNOON The Client stares blandly at something O.S. There is a SPLASH and seconds go by before The Client actually shows some expression; he smiles, then turns away, strolling happily back into the hotel. MANNY (Kneeling beside the pool with one arm thrust outward) How was that? Sean signals with a thumbs up and peers from around the camera. SEAN (Unable to keep a straight face) Looked natural. MANNY (Standing) Good. That’s a wrap. Phillip strolls onto the set as the few grips move to disassemble the equipment. He walks over to Manny and hands him the bag of food. Sprinkles is DOG-PADDLING ABOUT THE POOL. MANNY Bacon double-cheese burger? PHILLIP Yeah. And a diet soda to keep your figure trim. MANNY Good. (BEAT) Get Sprinkles out of the pool, then call my wife to come pick her up. Manny, lunch in hand, beelines to the hotel doors. Phillip glares at the swimming poodle, then casts a glance around the pool area. He walks O.S. for a moment the returns with a POOL SKIMMER. Just as he goes to dip the poodle from the water he notices that the skimmer has a LARGE HOLE in it. He tosses it aside then LOWERS HIMSELF to his belly and stretches his arms out to the poodle. It is still too far away. He scoots forward until his waist is dangling over the water; the poodle is still out of reach. PHILLIP (Standing and shaking his head in frustration) Why not? INT. HOTEL LOBBY—SAME MOMENT The lobby appears somewhere between run-down and fake elegant. Manny sits on a chair, the bacon double-cheeseburger wrapper, fries, and drink all wedged between his legs. He takes an inhumanly large bite of the burger, chewing with his mouth open. His cellular phone RINGS. Manny jerks upright, almost spilling his drink; a few fries tumble to the floor. After quickly securing the burger on its wrapper between his legs, he fumbles in his jacket, extracts the phone, thumbs it on, and raises it to his ear. MANNY (His mouth still horribly full of food) Hello? MARGARET PHELPS (O.S., over the phone) Manny. Jeremy wants to know how the commercial’s going. MANNY ( A bit panicked, between chews) Uhhhh… hi Margaret! It uh, went fine. Uh, we’re finished actually. MARGARET ( O.S., over the phone) Good. Jeremy wants to see you as soon as possible. MANNY Uh, sure. Sure. I’ve got to— MARGARET ( O.S., over the phone) We don’t have time for your bullshit, Manny. Just come to the office. Now. The phone goes dead. Manny quickly crams the rest of his burger into his mouth and stands just as Phillip enters the lobby. He is soaked to the bone. A LONG, RED SCRATCH runs the length of his left cheek. His SHIRT IS TORN across the chest. He cradles Sprinkles under one arm. The poodle looks like a drowned rat and is GROWLING, teeth bared. PHILLIP Here’s your hellhound. He plops the drenched dog in Manny’s arms. MANNY (Absently stroking the dog’s wet coat and chewing his burger) Jeremy wants to see me. PHILLIP Now? MANNY Yeah. Wonder what he wants? PHILLIP (Caustic) Maybe he wants to congratulate you on doing such a fine job directing this commercial. MANNY (Like a hopeful child with a mouthful of food) You think so? INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY—LATE AFTERNOON The office LOBBY wears the comfort of a nice home; a fireplace, a long couch, a kitchenette; a flight of stairs leads up to the second floor. Opposite the fireplace is the secretary’s desk made complete by SECRETARY #1, a gem of a girl suffering from terminal perplexity. Over the desk hangs a large plastic banner baring the logo for the UNI-MUNDO Hispanic Television Corporation, a number 15 in a circle and a slogan (IN SPANISH): “Working for You!” Beside the desk is the open door to Manny’s office. Directly across from the staircase is the front door, a glass pane affair that Phillip wrestles open with a free hand; in his other hand he carries a bag of Subway sandwiches and a twelve pack of beer. Though he is no longer wet, his shirt is still torn and his pants are extremely wrinkled. He walks directly past Secretary #1 and angles for the stairs, then stops, turns back, and walks to her, an odd expression on his face. SECRETARY #1 (Suspicious) Who’re you? PHILLIP I was about to ask you the same question. SECRETARY #1 (Self-important, noticing bag of food) I’m the secretary. You a delivery boy or somethin’? I wish someone had told me! PHILLIP Actually I’m the production manager here and— SECRETARY #1 Look like a delivery boy to me— Phillip stares at her for a BEAT then gestures to Manny’s office. PHILLIP Manny still with Mr. Hyeman? SECRETARY #1 Manny? (BEAT) Oh, him. I guess. He went upstairs and never came back. Phillip turns away and heads up the stairs. SECRETARY #1 (Continued) I just wish somebody had told me they’d ordered food. INT. CHANNEL 15, HALLWAY—SAME MOMENT After climbing the stairs, Phillip turns a sharp corner and moves down a short hallway toward the three upstairs OFFICES—MARGARET’S TO THE RIGHT, THE EDIT BAY TO THE LEFT, AND JEREMY’S DEAD AHEAD. In the hallway, near Margaret’s office, sits a FAX MACHINE on a small table. The door to Margaret’s office is open. MARGARET sits behind a desk stacked high with paper work—yet exceptionally organized—and a computer. Low level filing cabinets surround her desk, each one adorned with numerous cardboard displays and pamphlets of hotels. If one were to look closely at these displays they would note that all of these fine vacation resorts are located in either Florida or Mexico. Margaret is thin and carries the weight of too much responsibility behind a face of worn leather and hidden kindness. A cigarette is never far away from her. Phillip approaches her office warily, obviously a bit afraid of her. PHILLIP Hi Margaret. MARGARET Phillip. PHILLIP Uh, how was your day. MARGARET Shitty. Yours? PHILLIP (Glancing down at torn shirt) Same I guess. He moves past her office, angling for the edit bay door—then thinks better of it and creeps to the door of Jeremy Hyeman’s office. He carefully places his ear against the door. INT. CHANNNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE—SAME MOMENT Sitting in a high-backed leather chair behind a giant teak wood desk, his features encased in shadow, is JEREMY HYEMAN. Only when he moves can his outline be discerned from the darkness surrounding him; however, his hands, small and delicate, reside in the light cast by a brass desk lamp. Manny sits uncomfortably in a chair opposite Jeremy, his fingers laced across his stomach and his legs tightly crossed in a failed attempt at relaxation. JEREMY …so you feel that this type of configuration would work? Are you sure? I don’t want to do this and have a big cluster fuck. MANNY Uh, nuh, no, no— JEREMY I picked you for this job because of your extensive television background. I trust that you can handle it. (BEAT) So the peanut is accurate? MANNY Uh, yes, Jeremy. The peanut is feasible based on the, uh, calculations that Wally and myself have done. JEREMY Excellent. The peanut should allow us exclusive access to Central Florida’s Hispanic market. I’ve ordered a used antenna from a sister station. When does the transmitter arrive? MANNY Uh— INT. CHANNEL 15, HALLWAY—SAME MOMENT Margaret GRIPS Phillip by the arm and whips him around. MARGARET What are you doing? PHILLIP (Sheepishly) Eavesdropping. Margaret stares at him, her eyes tiny slits. PHILLIP (Continued) Well, hell. It’s the only way I can find out anything around here! She continues to stare him down. Phillip begins to fidget nervously. PHILLIP (Continued, conspiratorially) What’s a peanut? MARGARET A plant of the pea family bearing pods underground that contain seeds used for food and oil. PHILLIP Um… Wow. I didn’t know they were actually in the pea family. (BEAT) Want a beer? MARGARET Sure. INT. CHANNEL 15, EDIT BAY—SAME MOMENT Opposite the door is a long folding table cluttered with equipment. Two ancient, massive ¾ inch video tape decks (one on the table, one underneath it), an outdated control unit to the video decks, two large televisions (not professional monitors), a computer keyboard and CPU, numerous ash trays, a small consumer-grade video camera, beer cans, and half-empty coffee mugs. A stack of TRADE MAGAZINES rests under the table next to a pile of cables. Currently the room is DARK except for light emitted by one of the TVs—which bears a FREEZE-FRAME IMAGE OF SPRINKLES the poodle standing poolside. A cigarette dangling from his bottom lip, Sean Rhodes sits in a chair and stares at the image. He presses a button on the control unit and the image begins to move. The poodle stares pensively at the water then suddenly tumbles face-first into the water. A BLUR is visible just behind where the dog was standing before taking the Nestea plunge. Sean clicks a few more buttons and freezes the image at a point where the BLUR is visible. SEAN Shit. The door opens and Phillip enters, carrying the bag of sandwiches and the now opened twelve pack of beer. PHILLIP What’s a peanut? SEAN What? PHILLIP Manny and Jeremy are talking about a peanut big enough to take over the Hispanic market. Sean mulls this over for a moment. SEAN Hell, I’m done trying to figure out what they’re doing. PHILLIP I just like to know what’s going on. Which, of course, I never do. Margaret caught me trying to listen in. SEAN (Smiling mischievously) What’d ya do? PHILLIP Gave her a beer. That’s what my life is worth. One beer. (BEAT as he notices the blur on the TV) What the hell is that? SEAN I think it’s Manny’s hand. (BEAT) I told Manny we need a field monitor. The eyepiece cuts all the edges off. PHILLIP No money. SEAN That’s bullshit. Jeremy owns what, eight hotels— PHILLIP Nine. SEAN Nine then. And then there’s all of the TV and radio stations— PHILLIP (Sitting and popping open a beer) Seven TV stations, sixteen radio stations. SEAN And… what else? PHILLIP He owns a mess of land somewhere. Mexico I think… Phillip unwraps his sandwich and takes a bite. PHILLIP (Continued) You’d think with all that money he could afford to pay us better. SEAN No shit. PHILLIP I mean, I can hardly make my rent. One-hundred-sixty bucks a week- SEAN That’s all you get? PHILLIP Yep. Manny says it’s because Channel 15 is a startup operation. He says that once we get on the air I’ll get a raise. SEAN Don’t hold your breath. PHILLIP No shit. (Points to the blur) How’re you gonna fix that? SEAN Hell, I dunno. Put a graphic over it or something… PHILLIP (Chewing) You seen our new secretary? SEAN Yeah. She’s a cutie. PHILLIP Shitty attitude. She thought I was a fuckin’ delivery boy and acted all pissy because I didn’t have any food for her. Sean laughs. PHILLIP (Continued, chewing) Not funny, man. I’m the production manager of this station— SEAN Even though it’s not on the air yet— PHILLIP (Agitated) I’m still the goddamn production manager here and all I do is go out and get lunch! Jesus that pisses me off! I didn’t go to college just to get lunch! SEAN You got my sandwich? PHILLIP Oh, yeah. Sure. Phillip passes the Subway bag and a beer over to Sean. They eat in silence for a moment. SEAN Look, I’ll go get us somethin’ to eat next time, okay? PHILLIP Oh, I don’t really mind getting food for us. It’s Manny that gets me pissed. He fuckin’ eats like eight lunches a day! I can’t get anything done because I keeping having to go get Wunch! Wunch! Wunch! Wunch! Sean starts to laugh just as a gentle rapping comes from the door. The door opens to reveal Manny, looking a bit preoccupied. The room goes silent. MANNY Can I see you both downstairs please? Without another word, Manny turns and shambles down the hallway toward the stairs. Sean and Phillip exchanged worried glances. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY—EVENING Secretary #1 lounges in her chair, the phone cradled to her ear, shoving a candy bar down her gullet. Sean and Phillip clomp down the stairs, each observing Secretary #1’s professional demeanor. SECRETARY #1 (Into phone) Yeah way. (BEAT) Uh huh. Way. (BEAT) No. Nuh uh. No way. (BEAT) Nuh uh. Oh. Way. Sean and Phillip pass her and walk through the open door of Manny’s office. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE Manny’s office is something of a shrine—to Manny. The walls swarm with images of Manny with such famous names as Sylvester Stallone, Meryl Streep, and Dustin Hoffman; in these Manny is always smiling and jovial, while the celebrities look unaware that he even exists. Low-lying file cabinets rest against the walls. A VCR/TV combo unit sits on one of these. In the center of the room, adorned with an EMMY AWARD and a clutter of paper, is Manny’s desk. Manny sits behind his desk with the self-importance of a little king. Three people sit across from him. JUAN MARTINEZ, a handsome Hispanic man in his late thirties; CARLITA ESPERANZA, a busty Hispanic woman with thick, bottle-blond hair; and WALLY THE ENGINEER, a little man wearing a look of perpetual childlike innocence and cradling a briefcase in his lap. Phillip and Sean enter the office, look for chairs to sit down in and, finding none, lean against the black file cabinets. MANNY Uh, now that we’re all here, introductions are in order. Sean and Phillip, Juan Martinez and Carlita Esperanza. They shake hands. Phillips eyes LINGER on Carlita. She SMILES slightly at him. MANNY (Continued) And of course you both know Wally. Phillip nods in Wally’s direction. SEAN Hey Wally. MANNY Juan and Carlita will be anchoring our new show. PHILLIP New show? MANNY Yes. (BEAT) I’m hungry. Phillip, go get me some lunch. PHILLIP But— MANNY Uh, I mean dinner. Goldwin’s Deli. I’ll have my usual. PHILLIP But— MANNY Anyone else hungry? Wally raises his hand. PHILLIP But— MANNY What do ya feel like Wally? Wally stands and shuffles toward Phillip. PHILLIP Manny, don’t you think I should be here for—? Wally leans over and begins whispering into Phillip’s ear. PHILLIP (Nodding occasionally) Uh-huh… Yeah… Yuck. Will they do that? Okay… Wally passes some cash to Phillip then maneuvers back to his chair. PHILLIP (Continued) Like I was saying. I need to know— MANNY Your duties as production manager include scheduling, traffic, production, and assisting me. By getting us food, you are doing your job. PHILLIP Yeah, but— MANNY I’m sure Sean will be happy to fill you in on everything that happens while you’re gone. Right, Sean? SEAN (Looking somewhat helpless) Sure. But couldn’t you send—? MANNY Good. Manny fishes some money from his wallet and passes it to Phillip. Phillip scans each face in the room, desperately seeking someone to back him up. His expression hardens as he finds everyone simply staring back at him—except Sean, who shrugs. Phillip STORMS from Manny’s office to the lobby. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY Secretary #1, still gabbing on the phone, watches Phillip as he stalks from Manny’s office. SECRETARY #1 (To phone) Hang on. (To Phillip) I want a ham and swiss on rye with lettuce, pickle, mustard— Phillip doesn’t even acknowledge her as he walks out of the building, SLAMMING the front door behind him. SECRETARY #1 (Continued, into phone) That delivery guy is such an asshole! You wouldn’t believe what he just did to me… INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE Manny, Sean, Juan, Carlita, and Wally sit in silence for a moment. Then Sean shifts his weight, clears his throat. SEAN Manny, what I was gonna suggest was that you send the secretary to get some food. MANNY Uh, send uh… what’s-her-name? (BEAT) What is her name anyway? SEAN Hell, I don’t know. I thought you hired her. MANNY I did. (BEAT) Can’t send her to get food anyway. SEAN Why not? MANNY She’s my secretary. I need her here. Besides, Phillip’s fresh out of school. He needs to get wet behind the ears. That’s how I was taught. SEAN He’s got four years of production experience outside of what he did for his degree- MANNY But, not with a television station. He was freelance. This is different. This is an organization. Sean remains silent, but his expression clearly indicates that this discussion is not over. MANNY (Continued) So. Back to the show. Jeremy and I have come up with an idea. A weekly local news magazine for the Hispanic community. After a long screening process, Jeremy has picked Juan and Carlita to anchor. Sean, you and- SEAN Don’t you think we should’ve been in on this “screening process?” MANNY (Spreading his arms wide and flashing a disarming smile) We’re all a big happy family here. Now, as I was saying: Sean, you and Phillip will shoot and edit the show- SEAN We’re gonna have a crew like on the swimming dog ad, right? MANNY No. The commercial was for one of Jeremy’s friends. He funded it- SEAN And he’s funding the show, right? MANNY Yes. SEAN So we’ll have a crew? MANNY No. As I was saying, you and Phillip will shoot the show, which will be an hour long- SEAN An hour? Without a crew I don’t think we’ll have the manpower to do an hour show— MANNY Uh, sure you do. Juan and Carlita are both experienced journalists. They’ll write their own copy. And as you just reminded me: Phillip has years of production experience. You and he should be able to handle the technical end with no problem. CARLITA I’ve already contacted La Gata to arrange an interbiew. SEAN (Grimacing, looking at her like she’s insane) Well, good for you! (To Manny) So, this show will have a pet segment? How nice. (BEAT) How soon until we go on the air? MANNY The show or the station? SEAN Well, the station obviously. We can’t put the show on until the station’s up. Manny glances at Wally, who reaches into his briefcase and passes him a folder. MANNY (Opening folder and glancing at its contents) The antenna and transmitter will be here in a week. Installation should only take a few days according to Wally. (BEAT) I want the first episode of the show to be the vanguard of Channel 15—the first thing anyone will see when tuning in on our first night. CARLITA La Gata is having a concert here in three weeks. Juan NODS as if confirming some very important fact. SEAN (Taking a deep breath to calm himself) What the hell are you talking about? MANNY Uh, apparently Jeremy personally knows La Gata. She’s a big entertainer- SEAN An entertainer called “The Cat?” Or is it The Pu-? CARLITA It is The Cat. She is excellent! She is one of the most famous in Puerto Rico! MANNY Jeremy has put Carlita in touch with La Gata’s manager. If this works out we’ll bag a lot of advertisers! Sean gazes around the room. Juan wears an eager expression like that of a stray puppy about to receive a meal. Carlita’s eyes are wide with avarice and excitement. Manny looks as though he’s about to pop out of his suit. Wally appears to be thinking about something that he did either a week or a year ago—something quite dull. SEAN (Sighing) Okay. We’ll start shooting an open tomorrow. Line up some stories and we’ll get to work. (BEAT) What are we gonna call it? CARLITA (In Spanish) The Carlita Esperanza hour. Juan directs a sour gaze at her. CARLITA (Giggling nervously) I’m teasing, of course. JUAN (In Spanish) Florida Beat. SEAN (Seeming to comprehend Spanish) Hmmm… CARLITA (In Spanish) On the Town with Carlita and Juan? JUAN (In Spanish) Orlando News. CARLITA (In Spanish) Exploring Florida with Carlita and Juan? SEAN No. JUAN (In Spanish) Central Florida Update? SEAN Close. (BEAT, then in English) Central Florida Magazine. MANNY Uh, good. Good! JUAN (In Spanish) Central Florida Magazine. (In English) I like that. CARLITA Uh, Central Florida Magazine with Carlita and Juan? SEAN No. Just Central Florida Magazine. EXT. CHANNEL 15 PARKING LOT—NIGHT Lined by small hedges and the occasional tree and shared with numerous other office buildings, the lot is nearly empty. Only PHILLIP’S DATSUN, a BMW, and a MASERATI rest in parking spaces. Cutting its lights, a MUSTANG CONVERTIBLE eases into a space in front of the Channel 15 office. After a moment a CUBAN BUSINESSMAN in an expensive suit and carrying a BRIEFCASE steps from the car and strides to the entrance. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY The lobby is still, no Secretary #1 adorning the reception desk. The door to Manny’s office is open. Manny and Phillip can be seen sitting at Manny’s desk. MANNY (Shifting through papers on his desk) Uh. Have you, uh? Have, uh, you, uh-? PHILLIP What?! Have I what!? MANNY Uh, have you-? A KNOCK on the entrance interrupts him. MANNY (Continued) What time is it? PHILLIP (Glancing at watch) Almost midnight. (Beat) Jeez, Manny! Almost midnight! Why are you keeping me-? MANNY Uh, see who it is. Maybe it’s for Jeremy. PHILLIP He’s still here? MANNY His car’s still here. Phillip stands and walks to the entrance. CUBAN BUSINESSMAN (Through glass) I am here to see Jeremy Hyeman. Phillip unlocks and opens the door. As the Cuban Businessman enters, Phillip moves to close the door. The DOOR KNOCKS INTO THE BRIEFCASE, which FALLS to the floor, SPILLING OPEN. Several TRAVELER’S CHEQUES litter the floor—and the lid of the briefcase stays open long enough to reveal that it contains HUNDREDS MORE. PHILLIP (Bending to help retrieve the cheques) Sorry. Before Phillip can help, the Cuban Businessman SNATCHES the cheques and SLAMS the briefcase shut. He casts Phillip a cautionary glare then proceeds up the stairs. PHILLIP (Muttering) What a dick. MANNY Phillip? Uh, do you have…? (Digs through papers on desk) Uh. Where’s my appointment book? Phillip? PHILLIP I have no idea. He finishes closing and locking the door then moves back to Manny’s office. INT. PHILLIP’S APARTMENT—EARLY MORNING Phillip’s apartment is much like his car: small, old, cheap, and chaotically cluttered. The tiny kitchenette looks like a demilitarized zone—beer cans, crumpled paper towels, fast-food wrappers, and a mountain of dirty dishes. A small bathroom is to the left of the kitchen; the only entrance to the apartment is to the right. Phillip lay asleep in a small bed on the other side of the apartment. A digital clock-radio sits on a rickety table near his head; the numbers 4:45 are BLINKING. The bed rests under a window covered partially by a flimsy blind; early morning sunlight gleams through the lower quarter of the window. FOOTSTEPS THROUGH GRAVEL can be heard and a shadow moves across the window. The face of Sean Rhodes peers into the apartment, cigarette dangling from his lip. Cupping his hands around his face, he takes a small step forward—and MASHES HIS CIGARETTE against the windowsill. Irritated, he allows the now broken cigarette to fall to the ground, then presses his face to the window, eyes darting about the apartment until they come to rest on the sleeping form of Phillip. Raising his hand, he gently taps on the pane. In one swift movement Phillip BOLTS UPRIGHT, and STUMBLES out of bed. He stands rigid, his body swaying with sleep. A massive cowlick forces his hair straight up across the back of his head. Sean raps on the window again. SEAN (Smiling, voice muffled through window) Phillip! Wake up! PHILLIP (Turning his head toward the window) What? SEAN Let’s go, bud! It’s late! PHILLIP (Rubbing his eyes) What the hell time is it? He glances at the blinking 4:45 on the clock. SEAN (Voice muffled through window) Six-thirty. PHILLIP Shit. Sorry. Go around to the door. With a scuffing of gravel Sean disappears from the window. Phillip shuffles to the door and cracks it open, then wanders into the kitchenette and starts making coffee. A few moments later Sean enters. SEAN (Glancing around the apartment) Ah, the beautiful Ponce de Leon Apartments. Luxury living—low, low price. PHILLIP Power went out again. Coffee? SEAN (Spotting the kitchen) Is it safe? PHILLIP What? SEAN Jeez, Phillip. This place is really…uh- PHILLIP A garbage pile? Yeah, I know. SEAN Why the hell don’t ya clean it up? PHILLIP (Irritated) When? Last night when I got back with Manny’s damn dinner, you were gone. So was the secretary. So were Juan and what’s-her-name. Do you have any idea of how long Manny kept me at the office? SEAN How long? PHILLIP Three-thirty in the fucking morning, that’s how long. SEAN Doing what? PHILLIP Not much! But he wouldn’t let me leave! He wanted me to help organize his schedule and- SEAN That’s the secretary’s job- PHILLIP Well, somebody needs to fill Manny in on that little nugget. I’m thinkin’ an hour tops, then I’m outta there. But, no! He gets a phone call from some guy up in Georgia who’s helping coordinate something-or-other with Jeremy on the transmitter. Sounds like a lot of wheeling and dealing goin’ on. SEAN (Rolling his eyes) Great. He’s probably trying to buy a used transmitter. PHILLIP (Pouring a cup of coffee and taking a sip) I couldn’t really tell. To be honest with you, I was trying to sneak out. Phillip leaves Sean looking for a clean coffee cup, picks up some neatly folded clothes from off the floor and wanders into bathroom. PHILLIP (Continued) So anyways, he’s on the phone with this guy for around two hours. Every time I try to leave Manny starts flappin’ his hands around to make me sit back down. Sean finally finds a coffee cup, looks in it, rinses it out and fills it with coffee. PHILLIP (Continued, pulling the clean clothes) When he’s finally done he hangs up and looks at me like he doesn’t even know who I am. So then he starts going through all of the scraps of paper on his desk, asks me to write them all down on one pad of paper. SEAN Secretary work. PHILLIP No shit. Why wasn’t she still there? SEAN Manny said he was done for the day. Sent her home. PHILLIP (Pulling up pants and exiting bathroom with a toothbrush in hand) Done for the day. What an asshole. SEAN Good coffee. Hurry up. We gotta meet Juan and Carlita downtown. PHILLIP (Starts brushing teeth) I’m hurrying. What are we doing, anyway? SEAN We shoot the open for our new hour-long weekly show today. PHILLIP Hour-long? SEAN Hour long. And… Never mind. PHILLIP What? SEAN This is gonna piss you off. PHILLIP (Deadpan, his mouth getting foamy from toothpaste) What. More than I am? Not possible. SEAN You sure? PHILLIP Nope. What is it? SEAN Jeremy’s not gonna hire anyone else to do production on the show. It’s just you and me. Phillip’s eyes widen and he GAGS on the toothpaste. He scrambles back into the bathroom, retching. SEAN (Taking a sip of coffee) You okay? EXT. PONCE DE LEON APARTMENTS, PARKING LOT—EARLY MORNING Sean shuffles placidly through the parking lot, Phillip stalking angrily behind him. PHILLIP Where are we gonna find the time to do this? SEAN (Lighting a cigarette) Hell if I know. We’ll figure it out. PHILLIP I mean, we’re already there eighteen hours a day every single Goddamn day! What the hell does he expect? SEAN Just imagine when the station actually goes on the air—which is in about a week, by the way. PHILLIP I can’t take much more of this. SEAN Why don’t you quit? PHILLIP I… Well, me and Manny go back a ways, you know- SEAN Yeah, but he doesn’t seem to care. Why do you, bud? PHILLIP Because… I got you into this. SEAN Hell, it’s better than what I was doing. PHILLIP Wedding videos couldn’t have been that bad. SEAN Brides are pretty until they’re in your face screaming about how you didn’t get that special shot of their ninety-eight year old aunt gumming on a chicken leg. PHILLIP I take it we’re not getting raises to do all this stuff? SEAN Nope. You get to continue your role as underpaid errand boy. PHILLIP Hey, I do scheduling, shooting- SEAN Lunch- PHILLIP -audio, editing- SEAN Lunch- PHILLIP -scripting- SEAN Lunch- PHILLIP -lunch. ( BEAT) Dammit. They stop before an old, black MAZDA PICKUP TRUCK with a white topper. Several cases and cables are visible through the windows of the topper. SEAN (Continued) Ah, the ol’ Mazda. He unlocks the driver’s side door, climbs in, and unlocks the passenger door for Phillip. SEAN (Continued) She’s never let me down. PHILLIP What? SEAN (Caressing the steering wheel) The ol’ Mazda. She’s never left me stranded, never stalled, never- PHILLIP It’s just an old truck! You talk about it like it’s the Batmobile or something. SEAN (Teasing) It is the Batmobile. PHILLIP It’s a truck. SEAN (Teasing) It’s the Batmobile. PHILLIP Look, the Batmobile looks like the Batmobile. This looks like an old Mazda. SEAN (Teasing) Cloaking device. PHILLIP The Batmobile doesn’t have a cloaking device. SEAN (Teasing) Mine does. And I’m Batman. PHILLIP It’s too early in the morning for you to tell me that. And I’m not- SEAN (Teasing) And you’re Robin- PHILLIP (Finally grinning) Fuck you. SEAN (Laughing) To the Batcave! He twists the key in the ignition. The engine cranks up, sputters, coughs, and finally lurches to life. The truck pulls out of the parking lot with the slow, deliberate grace of a bloated, three-legged cow. EXT. DOWNTOWN ORLANDO, CHURCH STREET—MORNING Cars parade in slow motion down the brick paved street. People mill about the sidewalks. Sean’s truck is parked at the foot of the SUNTRUST BUILDING, a modern structure of glass, concrete, and tanned marble. He and Phillip have unloaded various cases and duffel bags from the back of the truck. Juan Martinez, decked out in a fashionable suit, shuffles his feet and watches. Carlita is nowhere to be seen. JUAN Can I help with anything? PHILLIP (Kneeling and unzipping a large duffel bag) Um, yeah. Grab the flex-fill, will ya? Juan pokes his head in the truck. JUAN (Digging) Flex. Fill? PHILLIP (Tugging a thick cable from the bag) Looks like a Frisbee. JUAN Ah. (He emerges with a large nylon disc about twelve inches in diameter) This? PHILLIP Yeah. Hold on to it for a sec. Thanks. Sean is kneeling as well, the old video camera lying on its side in front of him. SEAN (To Juan) Did she say when she would get here? JUAN (Slightly distracted, staring at the disc) Who? SEAN (Slapping a Pro-pack battery onto the back of the camera) Carlita. JUAN No. She just called and said she’d be late. Juan has found a ZIPPER on the blue disc; he begins to PULL IT OPEN. PHILLIP Have you ever worked with her before? JUAN (Unzipping disc) No. SEAN (To Phillip) Hand me the VTR. Phillip plugs the thick camera control cable into the old portable video deck, then passes it to Sean. PHILLIP Not a good way to start our working relationship. At least she called. SEAN She’s still late. We’ll shoot Juan’s part so he can get outta here. Got the happy cam? PHILLIP (Holding up a small consumer-grade camera) Yep. Juan has the disc unzipped—he pulls a white nylon disc from it, revealing the blue part with the zipper to be nothing more than a nylon pouch. He glances nervously at Sean and Phillip. Sean stands, hefting the VTR strap over one shoulder and the old camera onto the other. SEAN (Continued) Ready? PHILLIP Almost. Phillip begins to reload certain cases and bags into the truck. JUAN (Noticing the camera on Sean’s shoulder) Ah, nice camera. SEAN What, this? JUAN Si. Yes. Nice. SEAN This thing’s twenty-years-old. JUAN (Embarrassed) Ah. He turns his attention back the white nylon disc. PHILLIP (Slinging a duffel bag under his arm) Ready. They begin to walk away from the truck, Juan lagging behind, fiddling with the flex-fil. PHILLIP (To Sean) Where to first? SEAN I figure we’ll get a head shot in front of the fountain. Juan stops completely, his entire attention now focused on the nylon disk. A LARGE WOMAN carrying a briefcase stumbles into him. LARGE WOMAN Watch it. Juan looks up at her, an apology forming on his lips. His hands automatically twist the flex-fill—which EXPLODES TO EIGHT-TIMES ITS ORIGINAL SIZE, one side reflective, the other white, held in place by a large, taut, spring. The now immense flex-fill SMACKS the Large Woman directly in the face. JUAN (His face peering around one side of the flex-fill) Sorry. The Large Woman swings her briefcase in an arc, catching Juan in the shoulder. He stumbles slightly, almost dropping the flex-fill. The woman glares menacingly at him, then stalks off. Sean and Phillip continue walking, oblivious to the incident. INT. CHURCH STREET EXCHANGE MALL, COURTYARD—MORNING The Mall is large and open. A fountain with a statue rests in the middle. Vendors stand idly beside their kiosks as shoppers peruse their wares. One VENDOR stands out from the rest—a young man in a red and white striped shirt selling MONKEY PUPPETS. One of his arms is thrust into a GREEN MONKEY PUPPET and he WIGGLES IT about annoyingly. Sean and Phillip place their gear off to one side—away from the fountain. Juan stumbles behind them, still struggling to close the flex-fill. Sean begins setting up the camera and VTR. Phillip gazes about then pulls a filter, a lavaliere microphone, and a roll of duct tape from the duffel bag. He begins to TAPE the filter to the camera lens. SEAN (Taking the flex-fill and passing it to Phillip) Juan, why don’t you stand in front of the fountain for us. Do some poses for the intro. Juan moves to the fountain. He turns toward the camera and strikes a variety of poses, each one dynamic and heroic, if somewhat hammy. Phillip moves around him, angling the flex-fill to add reflected light to shadowy areas of Juan’s face. PHILLIP See. I told you he’d be on top of things. SEAN He’s a keeper. Tape is rolling. Action. Juan continues striking poses until- SEAN Cut. Good. (BEAT) Mic him. Let’s try an intro. Phillip, lavaliere microphone and transmitter in hand, approaches Juan. JUAN (Smiling sheepishly) Uh, I don’t know what to say- PHILLIP (Handing the lavaliere to Juan) Run this under the front of your shirt. Attach it to your tie. JUAN (To Sean as he runs the tiny microphone up his shirt) What do you want me to say? PHILLIP (Handing the transmitter to Juan) And put this on your belt at the small of your back. SEAN (To Juan) You know. Welcome to Central Florida Magazine, we have a great show for ya today, la la la. Only in Spanish. JUAN Ah. Okay. SEAN (Watching a meter on the side of the camera) Check levels. JUAN Ah. Check. Check. Today on- SEAN (Positioning the camera on his shoulder) Good enough. Tape is rolling. Action. Juan’s entire demeanor changes. Gone is the self-conscious bumbler. His face, indeed his whole body, now emanates self-assurance and professionalism. JUAN (In Spanish, smiling) Hello. I’m Juan Martinez. Welcome to Central Florida Magazine. We have a great show for you today, so please join us after these messages. SEAN Cut! That was great. I think we’re done with you today. JUAN When can I see the video? SEAN We’re gonna tool around town and get some shots for the open. We’ll be putting it together tonight I think. JUAN Ah. Okay. I’ll see you tonight. Phillip and Sean say their good-byes and briefly watch Juan as he threads his way through the crowd—tripping over a crack as he goes. Sean powers down the camera as Phillip rolls cable and replaces items into the duffel bag. PHILLIP Wow. If he said the right words, he’s damn good! SEAN Yeah. It was like having a different guy standing there. Manny was telling me that Juan’s something of a local celebrity. PHILLIP Really? SEAN Yep. Background in radio. He’s pretty connected with the Hispanic community around here. Just as Sean and Phillip finish picking up the gear Carlita BURSTS onto the scene. It’s hard to miss her: she’s dressed in a skin-tight red dress and stiletto heeled pumps, her hair severely held in place with what must be a gallon of hairspray. Her face is heavily augmented with make-up. CARLITA I am here! Sean and Phillip stare at her, mouths agape. SEAN Yes. Yes, you are. He moves past Carlita, almost bumping her shoulder. After a moment, Phillip follows, but he can’t quite tear his eyes away from her. CARLITA Where are you going?! I am here for my picture for the bideo. PHILLIP The ‘bideo?’ CARLITA The beginning of the show. I am here now. SEAN (Turning to her) And you’re late. We have other things to shoot today. CARLITA But you need me for the— SEAN (To Phillip) Use the happy-cam. I’ll start loading up and meet you at the truck. Phillip digs the small handheld video camera from the duffel bag and advances toward Carlita. CARLITA What is that? PHILLIP A camera. CARLITA That? No. No, no, no. PHILLIP What? CARLITA I want the big camera. PHILLIP The big camera? CARLITA (Pointing to the camera on Sean’s shoulder) That one. PHILLIP Why? CARLITA Because it’s the big camera. Phillip turns in disbelief to Sean. SEAN Actually, that little camera is probably a bit better. It’s SVHS. The camera I’ve got is- CARLITA I want the big camera. SEAN (Continued) -three-quarter inch. It’s solid, but old. Either way we can- CARLITA The big camera. SEAN (Continued) -approximate a match on the footage when we edit. It’ll be- CARLITA The big camera. SEAN No. Carlita looks as though she’s been slapped. CARLITA But, I want it. SEAN And you were late. And I’ve got other stuff to shoot. The happy-cam is faster for us right now. Phillip, shoot it. After glancing about the courtyard, his gaze falls on the Monkey Puppet Vendor. SEAN (Continued, pointing at the Vendor) Over there with that guy. The light’s better. CARLITA But- Sean turns away and walks O.S. Phillip gently grasps Carlita by the arm and steers her toward the Monkey Puppet Vendor. CARLITA But- PHILLIP He’s right. The light is better here. He positions Carlita next to the kiosk then backs away, fiddling with the camera. Puppet in hand, The Monkey Puppet Vendor sidles up beside Carlita. He waggles the puppet in an annoying, cutsie manner. When he speaks he articulates the Monkey’s mouth to make it appear as though it is the one doing the talking. MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR (Pushing the monkey into Carlita’s face) What‘cha doin’? CARLITA (Pushing the monkey away) A bideo. MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR What’s a bideo? PHILLIP (Positioning the camera to his eye) Okay… Just do some nice smiles and such. Ready? CARLITA (Smiling) Ready. Sliding closer to Carlita, the Monkey Puppet Vendor begins poking the Puppet around behind her, wiggling its face to mimic sniffing. PHILLIP Tape is rolling. Action. Carlita mugs for the camera, tilting her head, angling her body. Each pose is efficient and model-like. The entire time the Monkey Puppet keeps POKING AND PRODDING around Carlita. It sniffs up her shoulder toward her head—and becomes ENTANGLED IN CARLITA’S HAIR. Carlita whips her head to the side. CARLITA Ow! The Monkey Puppet Vendor and Carlita both jerk away from each other. This WRENCHES THE MONKEY PUPPET FROM THE VENDOR’S HAND. The puppet DANGLES LIMPLY from Carlita’s head. PHILLIP (Still taping, looking through camera) What the hell-? MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR Hey, lady! He LUNGES for the puppet. Carlita shrinks back. Carlita PUNCHES the Monkey Puppet Vendor in the chest. He stumbles backward, tipping over his kiosk. Monkey puppets of all colors soar through the air like some twisted scene from The Wizard of Oz. Puppets rain down on the Vendor, covering all but his legs. Yanking at the Monkey Puppet caught in her hair, Carlita LURCHES VIOLENTLY about the Courtyard. Phillip tosses the camera into the duffel bag and rushes to her. PHILLIP (Gripping her arm) Come on! Carlita SWINGS at him, clipping him on the shoulder. The Monkey Puppet Vendor claws a hole through the pile of puppets. PHILLIP Damn it! Come on! Phillip reaches out with both hands and GRIPS the Monkey Puppet in Carlita’s hair. He PULLS. EXT. DOWNTOWN ORLANDO, CHURCH STREET—LATE MORNING After loading the camera, VTR, and other gear, Sean lights a cigarette and leans against his truck. He takes a drag, casts a gaze up at the sky, and exhales. Fatigue hits, his body slumping. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, Sean Rhodes closes his eyes—only to be jerked back into the present as Phillip and Carlita scramble toward the truck. They stop before Sean. One side of Carlita’s hair looks like it has exploded, a spider’s web of plastic-like strands. Phillip SPORTS WHAT WILL SOON BE A BLACK EYE. PHILLIP (Pulling Carlita toward the back of the truck) Start the truck! SEAN What the hell happened? PHILLIP Just start the damn truck! Hurry! He opens the topper and urges Carlita to climb in the back with the equipment. It doesn’t take much coaxing—she quickly scrambles in amongst the gear. Phillip tosses his duffel bag in behind her then slams the topper door. MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR (O.S.) Stop! PHILLIP Shit! Sean jams his keys into the ignition. The truck sputters to life just as Phillip lands in the passenger seat. The Monkey Puppet Vendor breaks through the crowd and angles toward the truck. PHILLIP Go! Go! The truck merges clumsily into traffic, turns a corner, and is gone. INT. CHANNEL 15, EDIT BAY—EARLY EVENING Sean, Phillip (holding ice wrapped in a cloth against his eye), Carlita, Juan, and Manny huddle around one of the large televisions. One of the ¾ video decks hums softly as it plays an EDITED intro to the Central Florida Magazine show. It is quite dynamic, composed of several quick shots of the Orlando area and it’s inhabitants. The pounding rhythm of the “City of Angels” track from To Live and Die in LA sets the pace for each shot. When the stars of the show are introduced, Juan’s image turns to the viewers in a heroic pose that displays confidence and trust while his name is boldly proclaimed beneath his dazzling smile. Cut to Carlita’s image—as she punches the Monkey Puppet Vendor and spins out of control as she tries to pull the Puppet from her hair. Her name is displayed just as boldly as Juan’s in the credits. Sean and Phillip laugh hysterically. Juan bites back a smile that threatens to become a guffaw. Carlita fumes. Manny wavers between a laugh and extreme confusion. MANNY Uh, what the hell was that? CARLITA (To Sean and Phillip) That is not funny! SEAN Yes it is. MANNY Did she hit somebody? PHILLIP (To Manny) Yeah. Me. CARLITA (To Sean and Phillip) I am not going to let you- PHILLIP We’re not going to keep it there. CARLITA (Continued) -make me look like that- PHILLIP (To Carlita, raising his voice) Listen to me. Carlita abruptly stops. PHILLIP (Continued) We’re going to get a better shot of you outside the office tomorrow. Okay? CARLITA (Mollified) Okay. SEAN 10 A.M. sharp. No later. Understand? CARLITA No later. Carlita looks at Phillip, focuses on the cloth that he holds to his eye where she hit him. She opens her mouth to say something. Then- MANNY What was on her head? PHILLIP A monkey. MANNY A monkey? INT. CHANNEL 15, EDIT BAY—LATE NIGHT Sean is down on his knees, cleaning one of the old VTR decks. O.S. a PHONE RINGS. There is a CLICKING SOUND, followed by a WHIRRING as paper issues from a fax. After listening for a moment, Sean returns to cleaning the deck. The WHIRRING CONTINUES. AND CONTINUES. AND CONTINUES. Sean, interest piqued, stands and moves to the hallway. INT. CHANNEL 15, HALLWAY—SAME MOMENT The fax machine disgorges a long stream of paper that curls in a looping pile on the floor. Sean watches this for a moment, then walks to the paper, bends, and PICKS IT UP from the bottom of the pile. As he reads HIS EYES WIDEN IN SHOCK. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY—MORNING A DIFFERENT SECRETARY (SECRETARY #2) now sits behind the reception desk. Unfortunately she maintains the same vapid aura as Secretary #1. Her attention is glued to an issue of Seventeen magazine. The door to Manny’s office is CLOSED. Phillip enters through the front door and beelines directly to the kitchenette, not even noticing that the secretary is a different person. He returns a moment later with coffee in hand, begins to mount the staircase, then does a double-take. PHILLIP (To Secretary #2) Who’re you? SECRETARY #2 (Attention still riveted to the magazine) I’m the secretary. Who are you? PHILLIP What happened to the other secretary? SECRETARY #2 Quit. PHILLIP Quit? SECRETARY #2 (Irritated, looking up from magazine) Quit. Not here anymore. PHILLIP (Sarcastic) Wow. And she was just doing such a great job. Secretary #2 turns back to her magazine. Shaking his head, Phillip turns to continue upstairs when AN INDECIFERABLE VOICE COMES FROM MANNY’S OFFICE. PHILLIP What’s up in there? SECRETARY #2 Meeting. PHILLIP Obviously. But who- SECRETARY #2 (Looking up again, irritated) I don’t know. The guy who’s office it is and the guy from upstairs and the bearded guy and the little guy with a briefcase and—that’s all of them. PHILLIP The bearded guy? Secretary#2 simply stares at him. PHILLIP (Continued) Thanks. He rushes up the stairs. INT. CHANNEL 15, EDIT BAY—SAME MOMENT Sean, cigarette dangling from his mouth, feet propped on the table in front of a monitor, stares at the ceiling. He appears deep in thought and is STARTLED when Phillip BURSTS into the room. PHILLIP Morning. Listen, there’s something- SEAN I was here last night and a bunch of scary faxes— PHILLIP Yeah, that’s great. Anyways, Wally’s in there. And Mr. Hyeman. And some other guy. I think it has something to do with the peanut. SEAN The peanut? PHILLIP Well? Don’t you think we should—? SEAN Yeah, let’s go see what’s up. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY—SAME MOMENT Secretary #2, still hiding behind the magazine, doesn’t even look up as Sean and Phillip troop down the stairs. Only when they angle toward Manny’s office door does she come alive. SECRETARY #2 Where are you going? SEAN (Continues moving) To the meeting. SECRETARY #2 No, you’re not. SEAN You’re fired. SECRETARY #2 Oh, okay. Secretary #2 closes her magazine, stands, slings a HUGE purse over her shoulder, and strides out of the office without another word. Sean and Phillip ease toward Manny’s door. As one, they slowly lean forward, cupping ears against the wood. After a moment- PHILLIP (Whispering) Nothing. Sean backs away from the door and steps lightly to Secretary #2’s desk. He quietly opens drawers and shuffles through the contents. Phillip cups both hands together and presses harder against the door. The door CREAKS. At the desk, Sean pulls out a PLASTIC CUP from a bottom drawer; it is loaded with CIGARETTE BUTTS AND ASHES. He tips this into a wastebasket then moves back next to Phillip. Placing the cup quietly against the door, he leans in. From inside the office we hear- JEREMY’S VOICE (O.S., muffled by door) -at least eight peanuts total before we control the whole state. I don’t know if that’s enough- MARGARET Not invited again? She has crept up behind them. Both Sean and Phillip leap away from the door. The plastic cup tumbles from Sean’s hand, rattles noisily across the floor, then gets CRUSHED by Phillip—who continues retreating until his back is nestled against the main entrance to the office. MARGARET (Continued, glancing at the crushed cup) Ah. And destroying the evidence. How thorough. SEAN Morning Margaret. MARGARET Sean. Phillip. PHILLIP Hi. MARGARET Boy… You two are somethin’. Come here. Sean takes a tentative step forward, but Phillip shakes his head like a small child who has just been asked pet a snarling pit bull. Suddenly the entrance to the office is SHOVED OPEN. Phillip stumbles forward, almost falling into Margaret’s arms. Carlita bursts into the office. CARLITA (To Phillip) I am ready for my bideo! PHILLIP Good! Me too! He grips Carlita by the arm and swings her back outside, closing the office entrance behind him. Margaret and Sean stare at each other. MARGARET Come up to my office. EXT. CHANNEL 15, PARKING LOT Almost every parking space is taken. In a far corner of the parking lot is a NONDESCRIPT FORD. The CUBAN BUSINESSMAN hunches behind the wheel, a cigarette dangling from his lip. He occasionally glances toward the Channel 15 office building. Phillip emerges through from the office, steering Carlita to Sean’s truck. The Cuban Businessman slumps farther down in his seat. PHILLIP See. Being on time is a good thing. CARLITA What? PHILLIP Nothing. He flips open the topper and hauls out the large camera and the deck. Carlita watches, fidgeting uncomfortably. Then- CARLITA I’m sorry about your eye. Phillip kneels and readies the camera, says nothing. CARLITA I did not know I was hitting you in the face. PHILLIP (Looking up at her) Yeah. Well, you did. CARLITA I’m sorry. (Kneeling next to him) Let me see. Phillip turns his head away. He glances about until he finds a suitable background—a nice tree across the parking lot opposite the CHANNEL 15. PHILLIP Go stand over there. CARLITA I’m trying to apologize. She gently reaches over to gently touch the side of his face… and LOSES HER BALANCE. Her FINGER JABS RIGHT INTO PHILLIP’S EYE. PHILLIP (Jerking back) Ow! Damn! What the hell are you doing?! CARLITA I’m sorry! PHILLIP (Standing) Are you trying to ruin my career? CARLITA (Standing, taken aback) What? PHILLIP Are. You. Trying. To. Ruin. My. Career?! CARLITA This is your career? PHILLIP Yes! I-! Just go stand under the tree! CARLITA I- PHILLIP (Pointing) The tree! Carlita, shoulders slumping, turns away and begins to slowly walk towards the tree. CARLITA I was only trying to say that I am sorry. Phillip watches her for a moment. PHILLIP (Under his breath) Shit. (To Carlita) Wait. Carlita stops. PHILLIP (Continued) Look. I’m sorry. I’m under a lot of stress right now. I’m here eighty hours a week. I pulled Sean into all of this… and there’s no money. And… Carlita turns to face him. PHILLIP (Continued) I’m so fuckin’ tired. Carlita moves to him. Her hand reaches out to delicately touch the side of his face. He barely flinches. CARLITA But your eye- PHILLIP I’m fine. (BEAT) Now, go stand under the tree so we can get your shot. CARLITA (Turning back towards the tree) Ooo. The tree is pretty. PHILLIP I think so. The RUMBLE OF A LARGE TRUCK can be heard moving closer as Carlita strides toward the tree. Phillip follows, readying the camera. He stops in the middle of the parking lot. The RUMBLING GROWS LOUDER. PHILLIP Turn slightly to the right. Carlita complies, but she’s a bit distracted as the RUMBLING GROWS LOUDER STILL. CARLITA I think there is a big truck coming. PHILLIP (Busy with the camera) Won’t matter. No sound on this shot. CARLITA Yes, but- A TRUCK TOWING A FLATBED TRAILER roars into the parking lot between Phillip and Carlita, cutting off his shot. On the trailer is a FIFTY-FOOT LONG TUBE with flanges protruding out of it at regular intervals. The truck shutters to a halt and the DRIVER swings out of the cab. After looking about for a moment, he angles toward the CHANNEL 15 building. Manny scrambles out of the office to intercept the Driver, his round face glowing like a child on Christmas. He is followed by Wally and a TALL THIN MAN WITH A BEARD—THE ANTENNA INSTALLER FOREMAN. MANNY That’s a big antenna. (To Foreman) Uh… It is, uh big enough, right? INSTALLER FOREMAN Well, sure. Hell, the antenna size don’t matter in this case. It’s the transmitter. Wally’s your man there. Wally nods emphatically. DRIVER (Waving delivery documents) Who gets this? MANNY Uh, me. DRIVER (Passing documents) Cool. CARLITA (Still hidden behind the truck) Hello? Phillip? I’m ready! PHILLIP (To Manny) Can we move the truck? At that moment a UPS DELIVERY VAN pulls into the parking lot. The UPS DELIVERY GUY pops out and moves to the back of the van. PHILLIP What’s this? DRIVER (To Manny) Need your signature here. The UPS Delivery Guy emerges from the van CARRYING A BOX ABOUT 2’ X 2’ IN SIZE. He places it at Manny’s feet. Phillip and The Installer Foreman exchange glances, look at the huge antenna, then down at the little box. Wally quickly bends and scans the shipping label. PHILLIP That isn’t-? Wally nods. PHILLIP That’s the transmitter?! INSTALLER FOREMAN (Laughing) You gotta be fuckin’ kidding! Manny passes the delivery documents back to the Driver and stares down at the box. MANNY That’s uh… Um… small. Wally leans in and whispers something to Manny. MANNY (To Wally) You’re sure? Wally nods. MANNY (To Phillip) I had no idea it would be that small. Did you? PHILLIP How should I know? You never showed me the specs- CARLITA (O.S., still on the other side of the truck) Are we going to make my bideo? UPS DELIVERY GUY (To Manny, holding out manifest) I need you to sign this. DRIVER (Passing receipt to Manny) Okay. That’ll do it. I just need to know where ya want it. MANNY What? DRIVER (Indicating the huge antenna on the flatbed) That. Where can I put it? MANNY Uh… INT. CHANNEL 15, MARGARET’S OFFICE—SAME MOMENT Door to her office closed, Margaret leans forward in her seat, arms on her desk, takes a drag from her cigarette and sizes up Sean, who sits across from her. MARGARET You guys need to stop snooping around. SEAN Yeah, well- MARGARET No, I mean it. She reaches in a desk drawer and extracts a bottle of Canadian Club and two plastic cups. MARGARET Drink? SEAN (Glancing at his watch) Sure. It’s five o’clock somewhere. Margaret smiles, pours, and passes. MARGARET (Taking a sip) I like you. And Phillip. Even though he’s so… squirrelly. Sean sips his drink and eyes her warily. MARGARET (Continued) I don’t want you to two to get involved. I’m already too deep. Sean says nothing. MARGARET (Continued) There’s some stuff going on around here. Stuff that you don’t want to know about. Because if you know about it, you’ll be in it. Understand? Sean nods. MARGARET (Continued) Now. I know you’ve seen some faxes. SEAN Faxes? MARGARET Don’t be coy, Sean. I give you more credit than that. Faxes fall on the floor in a certain way. SEAN I don’t- MARGARET Sometimes you’re here late at night. God knows, it couldn’t be Phillip. He’s always trapped by Manny. And Manny’s too fat to be up here unless Jeremy calls him. Sean stares back at her. MARGARET (Continued) I suggest you forget what you saw. (BEAT) Things are getting dicey—and you don’t want to end up getting cut. SEAN But… What about the peanut? MAGARET (Coy) What peanut would that be? INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY Sean is greeted at the bottom of the stairs by the ROAR OF A CHAINSAW grinding through metal. Manny scurries through the front entrance, turns, and peers through the doorway. The chainsaw growls to a halt. SEAN What’s going on? MANNY Uh- Wrestling a TEN FOOT SECTION OF THE ANTENNA through the entrance, the Installer Foreman and the Driver almost plough over Manny. INSTALLER FOREMAN (To Manny) Get the hell outta the way! They place the antenna section in the middle of the lobby then trudge back outside. SEAN Ah. The antenna’s here. MANNY Uh- Phillip, carrying the tiny transmitter box, enters and looks at Manny. PHILLIP Where do ya want the transmitter? SEAN That’s the transmitter? MANNY (To Phillip) On my desk. SEAN Little small, isn’t it? INT. THE SUNTRUST BUILDING, LOBBY—AFTERNOON The Installer Foreman now has a CREW OF SIX with him. People scatter out of the way as the installers manhandle sections of the antenna through the lobby. Phillip and Manny follow close behind. Phillip carries the SMALL HANDHELD VIDEO CAMERA. A SECURITY GUARD intercepts the group. SECURITY GUARD Just what is this? INSTALLER FOREMAN (Holding out paperwork) Headin’ up to the top. MANNY (Whispering to Phillip) Oooo. Get this on tape. Phillip clicks on the camera and begins taping. SECURITY GUARD (Looking over papers) Ah. Well, the freight elevator’s down. INSTALLER FOREMAN No problem. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, ELEVATOR—DAY Crammed around two of the antenna sections, Phillip, Manny, the Installer Foreman, and TWO INSTALLERS ride up to the top of the Suntrust building in a passenger elevator. The muzak version of “Girl From Ipanima” filters lazily through the speakers. Manny FARTS. MANNY Sorry. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, TOP FLOOR—DAY Barren, unfinished, unpainted. Floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. A door leads to a stairwell. The Installers manhandle the antenna parts from the elevator to the stairwell with great difficulty. Manny and Phillip follow. Looking up, they note that the stairwell leads up THREE FLIGHTS. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID—DAY The tip-top of the Suntrust Building is adorned with four fiberglass pyramids used to house communications equipment such as microwave dishes, weather cameras, and antennas. Each pyramid is at least forty-feet tall and braced with numerous fiberglass beams. The walls are coated with insulation. The sections of antenna are laid end to end. Welding torches SNAP to life. Manny watches all of this with the glee of an obese child at a hot dog stand. Phillip scurries about with the video camera lining up dynamic shots. The Installer Foreman readies a pulley system. MANNY History in the making. Get shots of everything, Phillip. PHILLIP I’m tryin’. MANNY (To Installer Foreman) How long do you think—uh? INSTALLER FOREMAN Two days. Antenna’ll be up by tomorrow. Trunk cables through the floor by then too. Then Wally can set up the transmitter and satellite link to Uni-Mundo. But, you’ve gotta be careful when you fire it all up. MANNY Why? INSTALLER FOREMAN Well, this isn’t the only antenna and transmitter up here. This place is loaded. Look. He walks to one wall of the pyramid and pulls down a sheet of insulation. Behind this rests a microwave dish. INSTALLER FOREMAN (Continued) You’re not the only station with broadcast equipment up here. This stuff’s all over the top of this building. You’ll need to keep a tight reign on your signal. MANNY Oh. (BEAT) Uh, but all of the other channels won’t interfere with our signal, right? INSTALLER FOREMAN Shouldn’t. MANNY Good. History in the making. Uh, history… Get it all, Phillip. PHILLIP (Lowering the camera) Manny? We’ve known each other for a few years, right? MANNY Uh, yeah. Why? PHILLIP I’m gonna ask you something. Something that’s been bugging me. (BEAT) Manny, what’s the peanut? MANNY (Reeling as though slapped) Uh! Uh! How do you know about the peanut?! Uh-! PHILLIP Look, you keep Sean and I out of the loop, make me get lunch, then you haul me away from production on the show to video “history in the making” and I don’t even know why this is “history in the making!” MANNY Calm down. Uh- PHILLIP What is the peanut?! Manny grips Phillip by the arm and hauls him off to the side. MANNY Shhhhh! PHILLIP Come on, Manny! Just toss me one little bone here! MANNY Okay, okay! (BEAT) But, uh, keep it to yourself. It’s a broadcast strategy that Jeremy and I came up with. The peanut is- INT. CHANNEL 15, EDIT BAY—EVENING Sean taps the editor controls, piecing together footage of Carlita standing in front of an elephant. He appears distracted, constantly alternating his attention between the video and the beer in his hand. A twelve pack of beer and a half-eaten pizza sit on the chair beside him. Phillip BURSTS into the room. SEAN We gotta talk- PHILLIP I know what the peanut is! SEAN There’s shit goin’ on-! The peanut??! PHILLIP Yep. (Sees the beer) Ah. Beer. Cool. He pops open a beer then starts scrabbling around the office for something. SEAN Well?! PHILLIP (Plucking a pen from a pile of papers on the table) Gimme a sec. He moves the pizza box and sits, arranging the box on his lap. PHILLIP (Drawing as he explains) Okay. Picture the SunTrust Building. Here. Now… Remember that little shoebox? SEAN The transmitter? PHILLIP Right. That goes in the SunTrust Building with the antenna. Now… Picture a bunch of towers all over Central Florida. SEAN Existing towers, right? PHILLIP Right. I mean, shit. Hyeman’s rich, but I dunno if he could built all- SEAN Anyways- PHILLIP Anyways, they’re gonna put little transmitters on each of these towers to- SEAN Repeater transmitters. And microwave dishes. PHILLIP Right. And to cover Central Florida- SEAN The pattern would have to be in the shape of a peanut. PHILLIP Yep. Manny mentioned something about low power. Some frequency thing. SEAN Low power. Hmmm… Sean starts digging through the stack of trade magazines under the table. PHILLIP What? SEAN (Still digging) I know I saw it… Here! He holds up a copy of Variety. Minor headline reads “FCC Sells Hundreds of Low Power Licenses.” SEAN (Continued) A ton of bandwidths were put on the market. PHILLIP Hyeman must have bought some. But why would he want to keep it secret-? SEAN (Lowering the magazine—and his voice) Speaking of Hyeman… There’s something goin’ on around here. Some faxes came in the other night- PHILLIP Faxes concerning-? SEAN Knucklehead, let me finish. Phillip says nothing, takes a swig of beer. SEAN (Continued) A lot of money is coming through here. PHILLIP Tell me about it. SEAN What? PHILLIP There’s this guy who shows up here every now and then with a briefcase full of traveler’s cheques. SEAN Traveler’s cheques? And faxes showing tons of money coming through here… PHILLIP All this money comin’ in and this place is so tight-assed we can’t even flush after a piss without getting in trouble. SEAN Then I had a talk with Margaret. You know—when you ran like a little girl- PHILLIP I needed to shoot Carlita’s open- SEAN Like a little girl. Anyways, she gave us a… warning. Told us to keep our noses out of it. PHILLIP See! She’s scary! SEAN Yeah. A little. Just keep your eyes open, okay? INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE—MORNING Manny sits behind his desk, king of the room. Wally, Carlita, Juan, Phillip, and Sean take up the remaining office space. MANNY Has anybody seen my secretary? All in the room shake their heads “no.” SEAN It’s hard to get good help these days. MANNY (Continued) So true. Uh… Anyways, as you all know, tonight the station should be operational. Barring any, uh, problems. He glances at Wally, who gives the “okay” sign. MANNY (Continued) Good. Uh, I want the first episode of Central Florida Magazine to air tonight. Wally shakes his head vehemently: No! SEAN AND PHILLIP Tonight!? MANNY Sure. Why not? Vibrating, Wally launches from his chair and put his mouth to Manny’s ear. MANNY (Nodding as he listens) Uh-huh. (BEAT) Yes. (BEAT) What about the FCC? (BEAT) So? (BEAT) And that’s bad? (BEAT) Ah. Uh, okay. Wally appears satisfied and sits back down. MANNY (Continued) Uh, Wally here has informed me that we need to run some signal and field strength test to conform to, uh, FCC regulations before we can even show Uni-Mundo’s programming, much less, uh, broadcast our own show. CARLITA So we won’t be on the tee-bee tonight? MANNY I didn’t say that. Phillip, I want you and Wally to take one of the editing decks up to the transmitter, plug in, and broadcast the first episode of- A SQUEAKING SOUND EMITS from Wally’s mouth. He is enraged. He stands and begins pacing frantically about. MANNY Uh, Wally. Calm, uh, down. It’s- Wally storms out of the office. The entrance to the station can be heard slamming open then shut. MANNY (Continued) Uh, uh, uh, Phillip! Go get Wally! Try to, uh, calm him down. Phillip stands, casts a withering stare at Manny, then moves to leave the office. MANNY (Continued) And, uh, get me some lunch! PHILLIP (Rapidly heading toward the entrance) It’s breakfast time, Manny. MANNY (Shouting now) Then, uh, breakfast. A couple of ham and egg biscuits! Once again the entrance slams open then closed. MANNY Now, where was I? Oh, yeah- SEAN If it’s against FCC regulations- MANNY We’re so low power they’ll never know. SEAN Mr. Hyeman wants results, huh? MANNY (Sheepish) Uh… No, actually. SEAN Don’t you that’s kind of strange? MANNY Uh- CARLITA And La Gata is coming next week! MANNY Correct. We need everything up and running by then. Carlita has been, uh, instrumental in coordinating- CARLITA I have been talking to Mary, La Gata’s manager. We will have an exclusive interbiew- MANNY Interview. CARLITA What? MANNY Never mind. Okay, uh, we have an interview. But, even better we have- CARLITA Exclusive permission to bideo her concert! SEAN So, we’re shooting the concert? MANNY Yes. SEAN Cool. So, what’s the budget? MANNY (Starts fidgeting) The, uh-? SEAN Manny, we only have two cameras—and they barely match up. We have a tiny light kit barely large enough to light a bathroom! MANNY Uh- SEAN We need some rental gear. And a crew. I can have a list to you by- MANNY No. SEAN No? MANNY No. Mr. Hyeman will not fund a full shoot. SEAN Then what’s the point of- MANNY Promotion. Promotion for the station. SEAN But if you don’t have an end product- MANNY Go hand-held. Get enough to make a PR package for La Gata. In the meantime, we’ll be promoting the concert—big time. We’ll be on the air as of tonight. The concert isn’t until, uh-? CARLITA Next Friday! I am so excited! MANNY Next Friday. That’s plenty of time to get some sponsors for the station. And promoting the concert will, uh, help us get sponsors. MANNY (Turns to Juan) Uh, Juan. This is where we’ll need your help. JUAN What can I do? MANNY You’re well known in the local Hispanic community. You know anyone looking for advertising? JUAN I’m sure there are some. Grocery stores, newspapers… SEAN So, on top of the show you want us to shoot ads? MANNY They won’t take long- SEAN And you’re not hiring anyone else? MANNY Well, uh, I’ll probably get a new secretary- SEAN Manny, we’re getting burned out- MANNY Uh, it won’t be long. We’ll be able to hire more people soon, now that we’re going on the air. SEAN How come we had a crew for the swimming dog? MANNY Uh, that was for one of Jeremy’s business partners. SEAN So if we shoot an ad for one of Jeremy’s companies we get a budget? MANNY Yes. SEAN He owns the station. How come we don’t have any money? MANNY (Perplexed) Uh. Um… I don’t know. But he’s promised more money once we’re on the air. SEAN Yeah. Okay. (BEAT) What does she look like, anyways? MANNY Who? SEAN La Gata. CARLITA Oh, she is beautiful. MANNY Show them the video. CARLITA You have it. MANNY No, I don’t. CARLITA I gave it to you. MANNY (Digging through piles of paper on his desk) Uh… I gave it back to you. CARLITA No you didn’t. MANNY (Still digging) Uh. I distinctly remember giving it back to you. CARLITA I do not have it. You do. MANNY (Still digging) I don’t have it. Uh- He pulls the videotape out from under a stack of papers. MANNY (Continued, smiling sheepishly) Um. I, um. He stands, walks to the TV/VCR unit sitting near the windows, and slips the tape in. Salsa music pours from the speakers and the image of LA GATA in all of her glory fills the screen. We are familiar with this show—it is the SAME dance number performed in the Huge Puerto Rican Concert Hall. The video appears GRAINY and somewhat WASHED OUT. SEAN Hmmm… She’s hot. CARLITA See. I told you she is beautiful. SEAN And, Manny. Look. See the grain in the picture? MANNY Yes. SEAN They shot this concert in film. They must have had a budget. Manny scowls. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID—NIGHT The door from the stairwell swings open and Phillip stumbles in, manhandling ONE OF THE MASSIVE ¾ INCH EDIT DECKS. He looks as though he’s about to pass out. In the middle of the room sits a five-foot tall metal cabinet with cables running from it into the ceiling. Another set of cables runs across the floor to the side of the room, where a satellite dish points toward the fiberglass wall. An old ROTARY PHONE sits atop the cabinet. Wally crouches behind the cabinet, mumbling and fiddling with the tiny transmitter mounted inside. Two small monitors are braced inside the cabinet over the transmitter—both displaying color bars. PHILLIP (Out of breath) Where-? Where-? Wally points to the floor next to the cabinet. Phillip shuffles over and plops the machine next to Wally’s feet. PHILLIP Had to be the heavy one. Can we use the little camera to do playback. No! Had to be this damn 300 pound pile of crap! Wally grunts and traces the line of cables of cables from the transmitter to the satellite dish with his eyes. Then he flicks a switch. The bars disappear from one of the monitors to be replaced with the image of an EFFEMINATE MAN IN A WHITE FUR COAT sitting in a chair and talking directly to the camera. PHILLIP That’s Uni-Mundo? Wally nods. PHILLIP (Studying the image) Jeez. I thought for a second we had a gay porn channel. Well, at least there’s a signal. That didn’t take long. Wally shoots him a dirty look. PHILLIP Oh, yeah. You’ve been here all day. Sorry. Wally indicates that it’s okay, then stands and walks over to the satellite dish. After motioning to Phillip to watch the monitor, he begins adjusting it incrementally. PHILLIP (Checking his watch) Shit. It’s almost quarter after eight. The image begins to clear. Within a moment it is nearly perfect. PHILLIP That looks good! Ready? Wally sighs in resignation and nods. Phillip picks up the phone and begins to dial. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE Manny, Sean, Carlita, and Juan hover around the phone. The TV/VCR unit displays static and is muted. When the phone RINGS, they all flinch. Manny’s hand slowly reaches for the receiver. INT. CHANNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE—SAME MOMENT The phone, an elaborate office affair, RINGS. Sitting in a high-backed leather chair behind a giant teak wood desk, his features once again encased in shadow, is Jeremy Hyeman. He holds a TELEVISION REMOTE in one hand; the other gently TAPS his desktop. When the line for Manny’s office LIGHTS UP Jeremy touches a blinking light on the phone. PHILLIP (O.S. through speaker phone) Manny? INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE Manny holds the receiver to his ear. MANNY You’re late. PHILLIP (O.S. through receiver) I know. Trouble getting the feed. Wally says we’re set now, though. Should we wait until 8:30? MANNY No. Uh, do it now. PHILLIP (O.S.) Okay… INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID Wally plugs a cable into the back of the transmitter then flicks a button on the remaining monitor. Now both monitors display the Effeminate Man. PHILLIP (Into the phone) The on air monitor shows that we are now… Um… On the air. INT. CHANNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE The television flashes to life with a fuzzy image of the Effeminate Man. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE The same image fills the screen. MANNY Uh. We can see it. But it’s very fuzzy. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID PHILLIP (Into receiver) Fuzzy? It looks great here. Wally points up at the ceiling. PHILLIP Oh, yeah. We’re the ones getting the feed. Forgot about that. Wally shoots Phillip a “duh” look. MANNY (O.S. through the receiver) Tell Wally to boost the signal strength. PHILLIP (To Wally) Manny wants you to boost the signal. Wally shakes his head. No. PHILLIP Why not? What, some FCC thing? Wally points to the walls covered with insulation. PHILLIP Ah. (Into receiver) It’s gotta do with the other TV stations that broadcast from up here. MANNY (O.S. through the receiver) Put him on. Phillip passes the receiver to Wally who sighs, then raises it to his ear. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE MANNY Wally? Wally, you there? A slight GRUNT EMITS from the over the receiver. MANNY I want you to boost the signal. There is no answer. MANNY (Continued) Wally? Do you hear me? Boost the, um, signal strength. Static still fills the image. MANNY (Fidgeting) Uh, come on, Wally. Please? INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID Wally TAKES A DEEP BREATH. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE Manny FLINCHES and withdraws the phone from his ear. Flintstones-like invective POURS from the receiver. INT. CHANNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE—SAME MOMENT Jeremy’s FINGERS STOP TAPPING THE DESKTOP. Margaret covers her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she attempts to hold in her laughter. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID—SAME MOMENT Phillip’s eyes are the size of bowling balls as he stares at Wally. PHILLIP Jeez, Wally! You kiss your mother with that mouth? Wally jabs his hand into the cabinet and twists a knob on the transmitter. INT. CHANNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE Though the signal clears somewhat there are STILL BANDS OF STATIC. The Effeminate Man is now dancing around on a stage holding a fuzzy cat. Jeremy’s fingers begin TAPPING the desk again. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE MANNY Uh, that looks better. SEAN (Watching the Effeminate Man dancing with the cat) What the hell is that? JUAN That is Felix Delgado. It’s a variety show. SEAN Not all Hispanic programming is like this, is it? CARLITA Oh, no. There are soap operas, news, game shows- SEAN No, I mean like that. You know. Cheesy. JUAN Oh. Yes, it’s all like that. CARLITA (Nodding enthusiastically) Yes. Isn’t it great! SEAN (Sarcastic) Yeah. Yeah, it’s great. MANNY (Into speakerphone) Put the show on. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID After slapping the tape into the ¾ inch deck, Wally hits play and flicks a switch on the transmitter. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE The signal immediately degrades and shifts to the title sequence of Central Florida Magazine. SEAN That looks like shit. MANNY Up the signal again. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID An angry Wally twists the knob on the transmitter even farther. INT. AN APARTMENT—SAME MOMENT An OLD WOMAN sits in her favorite chair watching Touched by an Angel on her television. She sips cocoa and snuggles in her fluffy robe. Suddenly the image on the television blurs and twitches, to be replaced by the logo to Central Florida Magazine (In Spanish). She SQUAWKS and THROWS HER COCOA at the television. EXT. A BUS STOP IN DOWNTOWN ORLANDO—SAME MOMENT A YOUNG MAN sits at the bus stop, his eyes glued to a sitcom running on his watchman. The image skews and is replaced by the face of Juan smiling confidently into the camera. INT. A SPORTS BAR—SAME MOMENT The place is packed, most patrons staring intently at a BOXING MATCH being broadcast on multiple TVs. Sitting at the bar is THE MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR. He sips a beer and chats with A FRIEND sitting next to him. Suddenly the image on each television blurs and is replaced with a shot of Carlita under the tree. She is beautiful. MONKEY PUPPET VENDOR (Pointing at the TV) That’s her! That’s the one that hit me! The image quickly shifts as the opening credits sequence of Central Florida Magazine continues. INT. CHANNEL 15, MANNY’S OFFICE MANNY (Smiling broadly) Ladies and gentleman. Channel 15 is now on the air. INT. CHANNEL 15, JEREMY’S OFFICE Face in shadow, Jeremy stares at the television for a moment. He reaches across and taps the lit button on his phone, then steeples his fingers in the light cast by his desk lamp. EXT. A HISPANIC GROCERY STORE—DAY Sean and Phillip finish loading the camera gear into Sean’s Masda. PHILLIP Two ads in one day. SEAN One more to go. And we gotta hook up with Juan at four. PHILLIP I haven’t forgotten. Is Carlita gonna be there? SEAN No. She’s meeting with La Gata’s manager. PHILLIP Ah. SEAN But I bet you wish she was. PHILLIP Why do you say that? SEAN Jeez, Phillip. I’m not blind. You think she’s hot. PHILLIP ( Embarrassed) No I don’t. SEAN Bullshit. Sean’s cell phone chimes. SEAN (Into phone) Hello. (BEAT) Uh-huh. (BEAT) Right. Bye. PHILLIP Manny? SEAN Yep. FCC came down on us. Wally’s gotta reduce the signal strength. PHILLIP That was fast. SEAN Less than a week. Manny wants you to take his TV and drive around to monitor the signal. PHILLIP What, now? SEAN Yep. PHILLIP Shit. You okay shooting the last ad without me? SEAN Sure. It’s a doctor’s office. One setup, shoot the happy face, and I’m out. PHILLIP Okay. Manny didn’t mention food, did he? SEAN Nope. PHILLIP Good. SEAN Just fuckin’ with ya. He wants a personal pan pizza with double sausage. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER CONCOURSE—DAY Carlita walks with MARY, La Gata’s Manager, through the immense vaulted concourse of the Convention Center. They angle to the right and enter a gigantic hall that is being readied for the concert. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL—SAME MOMENT The stage is already constructed and is being augmented with banks of colorful lights and set pieces. MARY (Gesturing grandly at the stage) In two days this is where it’ll all happen. CARLITA (Gazing about the hall in awe) It is so big! MARY Yes it is. We’re expecting a huge crowd for La Gata’s comeback. CARLITA Comeback? MARY Her comeback tour. She was out of the loop for a while. Mary stops and leans conspiratorially toward Carlita. MARY (Continued, whispering) Cocaine. CARLITA Cocaine! MARY Shhhhhh. Mary walks toward the stage leaving Carlita staring after her. INT. SUNTRUST BUILDING, FIBERGLASS PYRAMID—NIGHT Manny, Wally, Sean, Juan, and Phillip stand around the transmitter cabinet. Manny looks like he’s about to puke. MANNY Uh, one block? PHILLIP Yep. With this being the center. MANNY Only one block? Uh. Our television station can only be seen in a one-block area? Sean starts laughing uncontrollably. MANNY (Continued) Nobody lives within a block of here. It’s all businesses! PHILLIP No. There’s that old-folk’s home- SEAN (Laughing harder) Oh, yeah! They’ll love that! MANNY Holy shit. The concert! The repeater transmitters don’t go up for another month! How are we going to advertise the concert? Sean’s laughter peaks—he gags and starts coughing. JUAN (To Sean) You should stop smoking. Manny, Phillip, and Wally stare at each other for a moment, deep in thought. PHILLIP Fliers. Put up fliers in all of the places we’re shooting ads for. MANNY Uh, that’s a good idea. I’ll write one up. JUAN I’ll pass them around. Manny suddenly MAKES A MOVE toward the transmitter cabinet. Wally BLOCKS his way and shakes his head. MANNY Oh, come on! Just let me tweak it a little. Wally adamantly shakes his head. INT. CHANNEL 15, LOBBY—NIGHT Manny and Phillip enter to find a LARGE BLACK WOMAN (SECRETARY #3) sitting behind the secretary’s desk. MANNY Uh, who are you? SECRETARY #3 The secretary. MANNY Isn’t it, uh, a bit late- SECRETARY #3 I’ve been here all day. Don’t know where you been. MANNY Uh- SECRETARY #3 (Standing) I put your messages on your desk. I’m goin’ home. MANNY Uh- SECRETARY #3 (Moving toward the door) Ya’ll have a good night. MANNY Uh- Secretary #3 closes the door behind her. Phillip stares at Manny. PHILLIP You didn’t hire her? MANNY No. Um, Jeremy must have. PHILLIP Well, I’m beat. I’m outta here. MANNY Uh, no. I need you here to- PHILLIP Oh, no! Not this time. Phillip lunges to the door and scrambles outside- EXT. CHANNEL 15, PARKING LOT—SAME MOMENT -just in time to see Secretary #3 driving away. PHILLIP (Shouting) Hey! Wait! (BEAT) Son of a bitch! Phillip begins JUMPING UP AND DOWN IN A CIRCLE. PHILLIP (Under his breath) Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit shit, shit! He stops to catch his breath and notices Carlita standing in the parking lot watching him. PHILLIP Oh. Hi. Hesitant, Carlita approaches him. PHILLIP (Continued) I was just… uh… Haven’t seen you- CARLITA How is your eye? PHILLIP It’s better. Thanks. How goes it with La Gata? CARLITA I… I haven’t seen her yet. PHILLIP But the concert’s tomorrow! How- CARLITA Her manager says that she is very private. I will get an interview right before the concert. PHILLIP Your “v”s are better. CARLITA (Smiling) Thank you. I have been practicing. PHILLIP So you don’t get to meet her until right before the concert, eh? There is a LONG MOMENT of silence. CARLITA I… I have some time now. Do you want to do something? PHILLIP Uh, um- Carlita starts laughing. PHILLIP What? CARLITA You sound like Manny. PHILLIP (Chuckling) Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. CARLITA Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. They both laugh. Carlita moves closer. PHILLIP Um, are you asking me out? CARLITA Yes. PHILLIP Me? CARLITA Yes. PHILLIP Nobody asks me-. I mean, I don’t- CARLITA (Turning away) Ah. I’m sorry- PHILLIP No, wait. Carlita stops. PHILLIP (Continued) It’s just that… I haven’t been out on too many dates. CARLITA (Turning back to face him) It will be fun. PHILLIP Oh, I don’t doubt that. You just caught me off guard. Sure. Yeah, I’d like to go out with you. Where? CARLITA I don’t know… PHILLIP There’s all sorts of places downtown. CARLITA I do not want to see any monkeys. PHILLIP Me neither. Let’s- MANNY (O.S.) Phillip? They both turn to see Manny leaning out of the office door. PHILLIP (Under his breath to Carlita) Run. CARLITA What? MANNY (Seeing them both) Ah, uh, Carlita! Here to give me a, uh, status report on La Gata I assume. CARLITA No. I- Manny begins moving slowly toward them. MANNY Come to my office. You too, Phillip. PHILLIP Actually we were just- Manny’s closer now. MANNY We’ll go through the papers on my desk after I talk to Carlita. Carlita and Phillip gaze at each other. PHILLIP (Quietly) Tomorrow? CARLITA (Whispering) After the concert. Manny descends upon them. Wrapping his arms over their shoulders, he escorts them toward the office. MANNY This won’t take long. I promise. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL—NIGHT The stage is now hidden behind a large curtain. Yet only FOUR PEOPLE sit in the audience—two of them quite old. Phillip, Sean, and Juan stand next to the stage. PHILLIP He kept us there until two in the damn morning! SEAN Doing what? PHILLIP According to him we were going over the work on his desk—again. Carlita fell asleep in her chair- SEAN Carlita was there? PHILLIP Yeah. She stopped by to… SEAN To what? PHILLIP Nothing. SEAN (Teasing) Ahhhhh… PHILLIP So, what’s up with the crowd anyways? Where is everybody? SEAN (To Juan) You put out the flyers, right? JUAN Yes. In every place I could think of. SEAN Well, there’s still a half-hour until it starts… Manny enters the concert hall carrying a duffel bag. His eyes dart about the room, taking in all of the empty seats. Frantic, he scurries over to Sean, Phillip, and Juan. MANNY Uh, uh, uh, uh, where is everybody? PHILLIP We were just thinking the same thing. MANNY (To Juan) You, uh, you handed out the- JUAN Yes. SEAN Anybody got one of the flyers? MANNY (Digs in coat pocket and pulls one out) Here. SEAN (Takes flyer and looks it over) Manny, you wrote this, right? MANNY Uh, yes. Why? SEAN Manny. It’s in English. MANNY So, uh- SEAN An ad for a Hispanic concert posted up in Hispanic businesses—in English. MANNY Well Juan posted them! JUAN You didn’t say you wanted it translated! MANNY Uh, you could see that they were in English- JUAN I grew up in Miami! English and Spanish look the same to me-! PHILLIP So we’ve got a signal that broadcasts to a one-square block area and a bunch of flyers saying “Hey! Come to the gringo concert!” SEAN Jeez, no wonder it’s dead in here. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL, BACKSTAGE Carlita and Mary navigate through a cramped hallway filled to the brim with DANCERS and BAND MEMBERS. They stop in front of a door. MARY Now remember not to bring up anything to do with drugs- CARLITA Oh, of course not! I will not say anything- Mary KNOCKS on the door. LA GATA (O.S. through door) Yes? MARY I’ve brought the reporter to see you. LA GATA (O.S. through door) Come in. Mary swings the door open and Carlita enters. Her eyes WIDEN IN SHOCK and she lets out a gasp at what she sees. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL Manny, Juan, Phillip, and Sean watch as TWO more people enter the concert hall—then turn around and leave. After a moment, Manny reaches down into his duffel bag and pulls out a DIRECT TV DISH and a CABLE. PHILLIP Why do you have that? MANNY (Walks over to the old video camera) Uh, I’m just going to put it over here… PHILLIP Why? SEAN (To Manny) You told them we were going live, didn’t you? MANNY Uh, no! No! Jeremy told them. SEAN Jesus, Manny! They’re Puerto Rican, not retarded! MANNY I know! I’m just, uh, doing what the boss said to do. (Holds out cable) I’m, uh, just gonna tape this to the camera- SEAN The hell you are. Don’t you think there’s something screwy here? MANNY Uh, well- SEAN Come on, Manny! Think! INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, LOBBY Secretary#3 sits behind the receptionist’s desk. She glances at her watch and looks toward the entrance. At precisely that moment the Cuban Businessman strides into the lobby. He and Secretary#3 EXCHANGE A KNOWING LOOK as he walks toward the stairs. SEAN (V.O.) First there’s this guy who keeps bringing traveler’s cheques to Jeremy… The Cuban Businessman begins to climb the stairs. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL, BACKSTAGE Carlita hurriedly backs from La Gata’s dressing room. Her face still wears a shocked, haunted expression. CARLITA (Trying to smile) Goodbye. And thank you again for the interbiew… Interview. SEAN (V.O., Continued) Then there’s all of these faxes coming in showing huge amounts of money coming into Channel 15—yet we don’t have a dime towards production… Carlita quickly closes the door. After a moment of hesitation she BOLTS down the hall—only to run headlong into the entire band and a swarm of dancers heading in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION. She struggles to get through. INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, JEREMY’S OFFICE The Cuban Businessman strides in. He and Jeremy shake hands. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER CONCOURSE Carlita slams a door open and glances about the concourse. It’s HUGE. She starts to run to the right then backpedals and bolts to the left. SEAN (V.O., Continued) And we have a transmitter with a signal strength of one city block… INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL, BACKSTAGE Mary KNOCKS on La Gata’s the door to La Gata’s dressing room. MARY It’s time. INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, LOBBY Secretary#3 places a GUN on the desktop and looks toward the staircase. INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, JEREMY’S OFFICE Jeremy reaches behind his desk and places TWO BRIEFCASES on his desk. He OPENS one of them—revealing stack after stack of ONE-HUNDRED-DOLLAR BILLS. CUBAN BUSINESSMAN It’s all here? JEREMY Two hundred thousand. CUBAN BUSINESSMAN Excellent. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL SEAN (Gestures at nearly empty concert hall) And now this. He gets us to promote a “star” that he knows personally. And nobody shows. What the hell-? The band strikes up a rousing SALSA NUMBER as the CURTAIN OPENS to reveal that- The stage has been transformed into a grand affair. A blue neon sign proclaiming “La Gata” hangs from wires over a large band platform. Fake palm trees shine with row after row of white Christmas lights. Fog machines exhale mist throughout. Sean and Phillip SCRAMBLE TO THEIR CAMERAS. Manny and Juan sit in the front row. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL, BACKSTAGE La Gata’s sequined boots beat a path toward the stage. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL Carlita rushes into the concert hall and toward Phillip. SEAN (To himself, peering through viewfinder) What are you up to, Jeremy Hyeman? INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, LOBBY At a signal from Secretary#3 the entrance bursts open and ARMED POLICE OFFICERS charge through the lobby and up the stairs. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL, BACKSTAGE La Gata’s sequined boots near the stage. INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL Carlita reaches Phillip and spins him around. CARLITA It’s not my fault! I didn’t know! PHILLIP What? What’s not your fault?! INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, JEREMY’S OFFICE Now sporting a badge, the “Cuban Businessman” slaps handcuffs on the wrists of the now prostrate Jeremy Hyeman. Other police officers snatch up the briefcases and begin searching the office as- INT. ORLANDO CONVENTION CENTER, CONCERT HALL -La Gata prances on to the stage. CARLITA (Pointing at La Gata) That! I didn’t know! Phillip follows her gaze—his eyes widen. Sean pulls his eye from the viewfinder, his jaw dropping as he watches- -LA GATA in all of her elephantine glory as she thunders onto the stage. Sagging breasts barely kept in check by tight red spandex—the same spandex that struggles to contain massive, cottage cheese laden butt cheeks. Thigh-high boots. Thick hair solid with hairspray. Even thicker make-up attempting to mask deep wrinkles. SEAN Holy shit. Manny and Juan stare aghast at the monstrosity on stage. CARLITA (To Phillip) I didn’t know she was so old! PHILLIP (Laughing) But you knew she was that fat? CARLITA (Hitting Phillip in the arm) No! INT. CHANNEL 15 OFFICE, LOBBY—LATER THAT NIGHT Margaret stands at the foot of the stairs watching as Secretary#3, now wearing a POLICE BADGE, waves and walks out of the office. After a moment Juan, Phillip, and Sean troop into the office—all smiling. Carlita follows, still shell-shocked. JUAN How can we be sure that was really her? CARLITA That was her. SEAN (To Carlita) That footage they gave you must have been from the early seventies- CARLITA I thought it was just the costumes… SEAN Margaret, you wouldn’t believe what happened- MARGARET Neither will you. Where’s Manny? SEAN Just behind us. What’s- MANNY (Entering and pointing outside) That was uh, rude. PHILLIP What? MANNY I told the secretary she had to stay and, uh, she started laughing and shot me a bird. MARGARET That’s because she’s not a secretary. MANNY What? MARGARET Jeremy was arrested tonight. There is a moment of silence as this sinks in. MANNY Uh, uh, um! What for?! SEAN Money laundering. Wasn’t it, Margaret. MARGARET That’s what the arresting officer said. MANNY And you let them take him!? Uh, Phillip! They’ve kidnapped Jeremy! Everyone simply stares at Manny. MARGARET Nobody’s been kidnapped you moron. MANNY Uh- MARGARET Manny, shut up and pull yourself together. Manny’s mouth shuts so hard there is an audible CLICK. MARGARET (Continued, looking at Sean) I told you there was something going on around here. SEAN You knew? MARGARET I suspected. SEAN Channel 15 was set up to be a loss, wasn’t it. A tax write-off to offset the other income. Jeremy was sabotaging us the whole time… MARGARET I’m not sure. That’s probably a good guess. But I suspect that’s all going to change now. SEAN We’ll have a budget? MARGARET Hell if I know. MANNY So, uh, what now? MARGARET Jeremy wants it to be business as usual. MANNY Uh, Phillip. I’m hungry. I feel like- PHILLIP Not tonight, Manny. MANNY Uh- PHILLIP (Looking at Carlita) I’ve got plans. MANNY You, uh, can’t have plans. We’ve still got to go through the papers on my desk. PHILLIP (Taking Carlita’s hand) Not tonight. Before Manny can blurt out another “uh” Phillip and Carlita are out the door. MANNY (Looking at Sean) Uh- SEAN No way in hell. Manny turns his attention to Juan—who shakes his head a definite “no.” A quick glance at Margaret—then he gives up. MANNY Well, uh, since nobody’s willing to help me tonight what-? SEAN Beer. MARGARET (To Sean) I’m with you. SEAN Juan? JUAN Beer sounds good. MANNY But what about the station? MAGARET Channel 15 and all of its problems—particularly the ones involving payroll—will be here tomorrow. MANNY Uh- Sean, Juan, and Margaret file out the door, leaving Manny standing in the lobby. After a moment Sean pokes his head back inside. SEAN Well? Come on, Manny. I’m buyin’. MANNY Oh, okay. Manny follows, gently closing the door behind him. FADE OUT THE END |
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