Love on the Run

ZOEY stands and smiles.

ZOEY:

Yeah. For a second there, I-

She sneezes violently and loudly. She momentarily looses her balance, leans on the nearest cubicle for support and then one by one, the cubicles all topple like dominos. The office alarm blares in their ears.

ZOEY:

Wow. How cheap can you get?

MATTHEW scoops up the tower.

MATTHEW:

Oh, f*ck me! Run!

They take off out the door they came in.

CUT TO:

EXT. OFFICE PARKING LOT - NIGHT

They race to the car, climb in, and peel out into the street.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR-NIGHT

At the red light, MATTHEW puts the tower into the backseat and looks at ZOEY.

MATTHEW:

I can't believe we made it. My hands are shaking.

ZOEY smiles and wipes her nose with a tissue.

ZOEY:

Not bad, newbie. Things are looking up.

Let's make a b-line over to my place.

MATTHEW'S face lights up and he smiles at her sheepishly.

MATTHEW:

Really?

ZOEY:

Don't get any ideas, Dillinger. We need to

swap your car for mine, pack supplies, and

change clothes. You smell like ass.

MATTHEW:

I smell like carpet shampoo, smart ass.

ZOEY:

Your carpet shampoo smells like ass.

MATTHEW:

Are you always this sassy at three AM.?

ZOEY:

I had four cups off coffee today. Booyah!

She does a bizarre dance in her seat. She turns on the radio and sings along while flailing her arms.

MATTHEW:

Kill me.

She tickles him and they laugh as they drive through a red light.

Police sirens can be heard in the distance.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ZOEY’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

ZOEY leads MATTHEW into her apartment.

MATTHEW sets the tower on the floor by the couch and sits down.

MATTHEW:

Twenty minutes just to find parking.

Unbelievable.

ZOEY starts putting coffee into the coffee maker.

ZOEY:

Tell me about it. Why do you think I ride

the bus so much. I can barely pay rent on

time much less afford to dump half of my

paycheck every week into my gas tank. So I

figured I’d fill up to thermoses so we can

have some liquid mojo when we get back on

the road. Sound good to you? Matthew?

She comes around the corner from the kitchen and finds MATTHEW fast asleep on the couch. He has his arms wrapped around the hard drive tower.

ZOEY:

Good idea. The recliner it is.

She drapes a blanket over him and sits in the recliner and closes her eyes.

CUT TO:

INT. ROURKE'S OFFICE - DAY

FBI Agent ROURKE and a few other agents are seated at a table watching the security camera footage of MATTHEW and ZOEY heisting the computer from his cubicle. ROURKE takes a drink of coffee from a Styrofoam cup and spits it on his assistant, FRANCIS, who is instantly covered in it.

ROURKE:

Where's the goddamn sugar, Francis? You

know I don't like to actually taste the

coffee, don't you?

FRANCIS wipes the coffee off of his glasses with a handkerchief.

FRANCIS:

Sorry, sir. Brain fart. Won't happen again.

ROURKE rolls his eyes and turns off the TV with a remote and turns to the other agents.

ROURKE:

All right, peckerwoods. What do we know?

AGENT #1

The guy's name is Matthew Garrison. He's

a low level data entry peon at the office.

He's been there a few years. No prior record.

There's no reason he should have wanted the

files unless he knows something.

ROURKE:

Obviously he knows something if he broke in

the middle of the night, genius.

AGENT #2

The girl is Zoey Drummand. She works at the

Natural History Museum. Among her coworkers,

she has a reputation for being...eccentric.

She also has a clean record.

ROURKE:

I don't buy it. How do they know each other?

Dig deeper, moles. Dig deeper.

FRANCIS places a map on the table.

FRANCIS:

We have an undercover unit tailing them

down seventy-seven South. They're ready to

move in on your command, sir.

ROURKE takes another drink of the coffee and spits it on FRANCIS again.

ROURKE:

Damn it! Will somebody take this cup of

sludge away from me before I poison myself?

AGENT #2 takes the cup away and leaves the room.

ROURKE:

Tell the undercover unit to back off. I

don't want to spook them just yet. They may

lead us right to the bastard. Inform the

local boys in blue to make inquiries and

we'll cast a wide net. But nobody, and I

mean nobody, makes a move until I give the

order. Understood? Let's move out.

The agents close their briefing folders and gather up their coats and hats. AGENT #2 returns with a cup off coffee and puts it in front of ROURKE. He takes a sip and immediately spits it on the back of FRANCIS'S shirt.

ROURKE:

Damn it! This time there's no cream!

FRANCIS cringes and closes his eyes.

FRANCIS:

I think there's a Seven-Eleven right before

the highway on-ramp, sir.

ROURKE lights a cigar and looks warily out a nearby window.

ROURKE:

Now, that's a good boy, Francis. Where are

you, my little runaways? Where are you

running to? It doesn't really matter. I'll

find you. I always do. And when I do, you'll

pay for what you did. You'll pay dearly.

FRANCIS is freaked out and slowly backs out of the room. The other agents do the same.

ROURKE puts his cigar out on the window pane and glares out the window.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR - DAY

ZOEY finished pumping gas and climbs into the car. MATTHEW is fighting sleep in the passenger seat.

MATTHEW:

Are you sure you're okay to drive?

She starts the car.

ZOEY:

All systems go, chief. I just had another

cup of coffee. I'll wake you up when it

wears off. Wanna tell me what's in the

computer yet?

MATTHEW:

Maybe when I wake up. I just... I...

MATTHEW passes out and the car pulls back onto the road.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CAR - DAY. HOURS LATER.

MATTHEW is startled awake by ZOEY having a screaming panic attack. He looks outside and sees that the car is going around and around in the town circle.

MATTHEW:

Hey, where the hell are we?

ZOEY:

We're here. We've only gone five miles.

MATTHEW:

Where are we going?

ZOEY:

We're going around and around in a circle!

MATTHEW:

So I see. Any particular reason for it? I'm

getting a little dizzy.

ZOEY:

I have this tic, okay? For whatever reason,

my mind won't let me make right turns. I have

to stick to back roads and make several lefts

when I need to go right. I didn't notice the

road dumped into this circle until it was too

late. Now, we're fucked!

MATTHEW:

We're not fucked. Turn here.

ZOEY:

I can't!

MATTHEW:

It's fine. Then just turn here.

ZOEY:

I can't!

MATTHEW:

Turn here. Just do it!

ZOEY:

I can't! They're all right turns! I hate

circles! Whoever invented circles must have

gotten blow jobs from the devil! Make it

stop!

MATTHEW:

It's okay. We're gonna get through this,

okay? I have an idea. Do you want me to help

you?

ZOEY:

Yes! Please! Whatever! Just make it stop!

MATTHEW takes off his seatbelt.

MATTHEW:

Okay, listen to me. Keep your foot on the gas.

I'm going to take the wheel.

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