Blade II Page #4

BLADE:

Scud!

Blade's voice ECHOES throughout the cavernous room.

SCUD (O.S.)

Lock up your daughters, people --

ANGLE ON SCUD:

A handlebar moustached, weed-sucking stoner. Thrift-store

chic, wearing a Jimmy Walker "Dyn-O-Mite!" T-shirt.

SCUD (CONT'D)

The Dark Knight returns.

Scud is lowering himself down from the ceiling on a rope and

pulley system where he'd been suspended in a safety harness,

doing some kind of electrical wiring job. He reaches the

floor and unclips himself. We notice he's wearing a surfer's

charm around his neck that's been strung with vampire fangs.

Scud pulls a half-smoked roach from behind his ear, using a

lighter in the shape of a woman's torso to fire up. The

flame jets from a hole in one of her tits. He takes a

Spicoli-sized hit and offers the roach to Blade.

SCUD (CONT'D)

Little toke of the smokage, B?

Blade slaps it from his hand.

BLADE:

Knock it off. We've got work to do.

Blade opens the trunk. Scud joins him.

WHISTLER:

is inside. Blade unfastens the hood, slipping it off.

Immediately, Whistler sits up, LUNGING at Blade!

SCUD:

F*** me!

Blade gets Whistler in a headlock, choking him as he drags

him out of the trunk. It's like trying to wrestle a rabid

pit bull. He looks to Scud, annoyed.

BLADE:

You going to stand there crapping your

pants or are you going to help me?!

Scud steps forward, tentative. Together, he and Blade drag

Whistler kicking and SCREAMING across the workshop, forcing

him into a small, cell-like room.

INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - CELL - NIGHT

WHAP! Blade throws Whistler onto the concrete floor, pinning

him as Scud quickly slips a series of chains around him which

have been secured to the wall. The opposite wall is covered

by a series of steel shutters. As Whistler continues to

thrash, Blade affixes a muzzle to the older man's mouth.

SCUD:

You got something in mind, Blade?

BLADE:

Ultra-rapid detox. They use it on

heroin addicts, make 'em go cold-turkey

in one night.

Blade pulls out a pneumatic syringe, plunging an ampoule of

amber-colored fluid into the bottle mount.

BLADE (CONT'D)

Gonna try and OD Whistler on a

retroviral cure.

SCUD:

I don't know about this, man --

Blade injects Whistler with the syringe. Whistler HOWLS in

pain, nearly throwing Blade and Scud off him.

BLADE:

(to Scud)

Get back!!!

Scud scurries away. Whistler's struggles have taken an even

more violent turn. Blade beats him back down.

Finally, Blade steps on Whistler's neck, pinning his head as

he draws a shotgun from a holster beneath his armpit. He

shoves it in Whistler's SNARLING FACE.

BLADE (CONT'D)

If there's anything of you left in

there, Whistler, listen up now. Come

morning, those shutters are going up.

Either you'll be cured, or you'll fry.

Blade raises his foot from Whistler's neck, quickly backing

out the door. Whistler THROWS himself at Blade, nearly

tearing the chains from the wall as --

INT. SCUD'S WORKSHOP - NIGHT

BOOM! Blade slams the cell door closed. The door is heavy

steel. Nevertheless, Whistler kicks against it, threatening

to tear it off its hinges. Blade throws a heavy cross-bar

over the door. Then he steps back, joining Scud.

WHUMP!WHUMP!WHUMP! Whistler hammers the door again and again

and again. But the crossbar holds. Blade glances at Scud,

who's looking winded and shaken by the ordeal.

BLADE:

It's going to be a long night.

Scud nods and exits. Blade drags a chair across the floor,

setting it in front of the door. He sits down, shotgun

resting across his knees, holding vigil. And off that grim,

stoic image we --

CUT TO:

EXT. CITY DUMP - DAY (20 YEARS AGO)

Daylight bleaches the image, almost whiting it out. A WINO

sifts through refuse, collecting bottles. Three MUTTS are

tethered to his side with rope. He reaches for a bottle,

cuts himself on a piece of glass. As he inspects his wound,

his dogs GROWL. The Wino looks up --

A BLACK KID (14) is standing atop a mountain of refuse --

wiry and intense, perched there like a predator. The Wino

glances at his wrist again, the blood, then back up at the

black kid. Unnerved, the Wino starts to back away, then

turns -- BUMPING right into the black kid, who has moved

beside him with uncanny speed. (NOTE: this all happens

within a single, continuous shot.)

The boy SLAMS the Wino against the trestle wall and SNARLS,

baring FANGS. And just as he's about to tear the man's

throat out --

A HAND reaches in from off-screen, pulling the boy back.

It's WHISTLER, twenty years younger and spryer, with a head

full of RAVEN BLACK hair.

Whistler throws the boy into the light, forcing him onto the

ground. He shoves a .45 against the boy's face and is just

about to pull the trigger when he stops, NOTICING overhead

sun reflected in the boy's eyes. Whistler looks up and SEES

the sun at high noon, then glances back at the boy in

understanding. He smiles.

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