Arcade Page #2

ALEX:

He thinks I'm "sublimating".

STILTS:

What the hell does that mean?

LAURIE:

It means she's screwed up.

STILTS:

F***ed up. That's what they said I was.

BENZ:

You are f***ed up.

STILTS:

Yeah, but only because I want to be.

GREG:

Would you guys knock it off?

Greg turns back to Alex and looks her in the eye.

GREG:

(continuing)

Listen to me, Alex. These counselor's

don't know anything. They're full of sh*t.

If you don't fit the pattern of the perfect

kid, they freak.

ALEX:

(nodding)

I know.

GREG:

So tell me you're okay, then.

ALEX:

I'm okay.

GREG:

(smiles)

Good. Cause I'd freak if you weren't.

Greg leans over and kisses Alex. The rest of the group launches into

exaggerated GROANS, with Benz and Stilts fluttering their eyes and making

"smooching faces" at each other. The kiss is over and everyone LAUGHS.

Things are okay now.

GREG:

(to Alex)

Hey...watch this...

Greg pulls an old Polaroid camera from his backpack. He leans in close to

her and holds the camera at arm's length, aiming it back at them. FLASH!

And the moment's captured forever.

Greg pulls the Polaroid out and peels off the backing. Before the picture

even develops, he begins rubbing his fingers over it, manipulating the

emulsion.

NICK:

(engrossed in his game

again)

You making another one, Greg?

GREG:

Sure. Practice.

BENZ:

Lemme see...

Greg pulls some papers from his backpack and slides them over to Benz.

The papers are color xeroxes of Polaroid blow-ups. Greg has messed with

them, creating swirling, psychedelic patterns with the images. Stilts and

Laurie lean in.

STILTS:

Cool.

GREG:

(still working)

See, when the emulsion's still warm you can

move it around...

(stops)

There.

Greg holds up the Polaroid for Alex to see.

POLAROID:

Greg and Alex are side by side, grinning...all around them the world has

spun into strange colors. It's an odd effect.

Greg drops the photo in his shirt pocket and pats it.

GREG:

Safe keeping.

Meanwhile, Nick's pocket video game emits an EXPLOSION NOISE.

NICK:

Sh*t. I'm out.

He sets the game down, dejected.

BENZ:

You guys going to Dante's after school?

GREG:

I don't know.

BENZ:

Check it out...

Benz pulls a flyer from inside his coat. It's an ad for a new game called

"ARCADE", featuring a pair of evil eyes and glowing hands coming out of a

circuit board. The tag at the bottom reads, "COMING THIS FALL. REALITY

WILL NEVER BE THE SAME".

NICK:

(excited)

That's the new Slip-Stream game. Those guys

are good. It's supposed to be interactive.

Graphics are unbelievable.

BENZ:

Yeah? They were handing these out at

Dante's. Test marketing it or something.

Gonna have a demonstration today.

STILTS:

Cool.

LAURIE:

Can you say anything but "cool"?

STILTS:

Of course I can. I can say all sorts of

things...

GREG:

(annoyed)

Guys...

Benz pulls back the flyer and looks at it again.

BENZ:

So how 'bout it?

NICK:

I'm game...

(to Greg)

Greg?

Greg turns to Alex.

GREG:

Come on. We'll hit Dante's after school,

try the game out, maybe get some dinner.

ALEX:

And then keep on driving?

GREG:

Sure. Never come back. Disappear forever.

LAURIE:

(nodding)

I could go for that.

Alex laughs. Laurie took the words right out of her mouth.

CUT TO:

EXT. DANTE'S INFERNO -- DAY

The Inferno is a run-down video arcade near the beach, notable because the

games it sports are generally defective and out of date. Nevertheless,

it's become our group's hang-out. It has its charms.

A huge mural, chipped and faded with age, adorns the front of the

arcade...something straight out of Hieronymus Bosch. Demons in day-glo.

The yawning mouth of an enormous devil surrounds the entrance.

ALEX AND THE OTHERS

pull up across the street, caravan style. Greg and Alex are in one

car...an ancient Buick Skylark. No Honda Accords or VW Rabbits for this

group.

At the moment, there's quite a bit of activity at the Inferno's entrance.

KIDS are clustered around and Slip-Stream employees are passing out Arcade

promo sheets.

THE GROUP:

heads for the entrance, plowing their way through the crowd. Stilts and

Benz have their skateboards, jumping up onto the curb with them, then

popping them up into their arms.

INT. DANTE'S INFERNO -- DAY

Inside, the Inferno is a mishmash of video games, ancient carnival props

and old horror movie posters. Dusty, creepy under the right circumstances

and filled with leering faces... in short, any kid's bedroom taken to a

horrific extreme. At Dante's Inferno, they've got the latest games side

by side with chestnuts like Pac-Man.

THE GROUP:

makes their way inside, joining a cluster of KIDS in the center of The

Inferno. And there it is...

ARCADE:

It looks out of place in the midst of The Inferno. Shiny black,

high-tech, and almost self-contained, like some sort of space-age vertical

coffin. Laser-etched graphics on the sides bear the ARCADE logo and the

same strange, frightening face.

Alex and her friends are suitably impressed, most notably, Nick and Benz.

BENZ:

Check it out...

STILTS:

Definitely cool.

Nick is silent, letting his eyes explore the machine. He turns to Greg

and grins.

NICK:

Super computers, micro-processors... That's

the future we're looking at.

Another kid, DELOACH, pushes his way to the front of the group. His

fighting a losing battle against acne.

DELOACH:

(looking around)

So how come they're previewing it in this

sh*t-hole?

STILTS:

If you weren't such a dick, you'd know what

a cool place this was.

DELOACH:

Gimme a break, they got f***ing Space

Invaders here. That's sh*t's for retards.

STILTS:

So...are you trying to say I'm retarded?

Is that what you're implying?

DELOACH:

No, but since I'm standing here, I'm

noticing that you're an ugly little f***

and you're making me sick...

That's it for Stilts. He launches himself at DeLoach, catching him off

guard and KNOCKING him to the floor.

Nick, Alex, and Greg are on them in a minute, trying to extract the two

from each other.

A LARGE MAN:

pushes his way towards them and effortlessly scoops both boys up, wrapping

a beefy hand around the scruffs of their necks. This is FINSTER, the

proprietor...enormous, bald, and always irritable.

FINSTER:

(shaking them)

Cut it out!!!

His face contorts and he spits as he speaks. Nice guy. Alex steps

forward, always the voice of reason.

ALEX:

It's okay, Mr. Finster...

FINSTER:

No it's not.

(to the boys)

You guys are shits and I'm throwing you out.

DELOACH:

(acting tough)

Your place sucks. Who gives a sh*t about

"ARCADE" anyway?

VOICE (O.S.)

(booming, metallic)

WHAT DID YOU SAY?

Everyone turns. The voice came from...

ARCADE:

It's up and running now. The inside panel emits an eerie green light.

From speakers inside the compartment we can here BREATHING...the same

breathing we heard earlier. Coming from a machine like this, it's creepy

as hell.

Even Finster is impressed. He releases the boys and stares at the

machine.

LAURIE:

(a whisper)

Jesus...

ANOTHER VOICE (O.S.)

Not bad, huh?

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