Demolition Man Page #5

INT. SEWER TUNNEL - DAY

THOMAS PAYNE, a young wild-haired madman in some kind

of ancient mechanics coveralls watches through the

periscope.

PAYNE:

... These a**holes are nothing if

not predictable.

Two other equally disreputable types are with him.

SCRAPS, leftovers from the perfect world above.

SCRAP #1

(worried)

We're not ready.

PAYNE:

Hey guy, it doesn't really matter

if we're ready or not anymore.

Payne's got things to do, people to see. Takes off down

the tunnel. The other two follow. As the periscope

ducks back down ---

INT. POLICE STATION - MAIN AREA - DAY

A pair of frosted doors reading S.A. and P.D. slide open

to the presence of Lenina Huxley. She enters into a

police station not of typically bustling pandemonium, but

shocking, softly lit tranquility. Multi-ethnic officers

of all shapes and sizes murmur about, monitoring screens

with the casualness of the staff at a new age bookstore.

No rush, no worries... Lenina strides past an impossible

PERKY DISPATCHER chirping into a high tech headset.

PERKY DISPATCHER

Greetings and salutations,

welcome to the emergency line of

the San Angeles Police

Department. How are you?

A TOUGH looking COP, sipping a vibrant green juice,

sidles up to Lenina. They exchange a non-touching

"handshake" that has them each making a circle with

their open palms.

HUXLEY:

Let me guess, all is serene.

TOUGH COP:

(with true shock)

There was a defacement of public

buildings. Walls smudged.

HUXLEY:

(shocked as well)

Really? Brutal. Why wasn't an

all cars notified?

She's cut off by her by-the-book superior, CHIEF GEORGE

EARLE.

CHIEF EARLE:

Because there was no need to

create widespread panic.

(then)

Lieutenant Huxley, I monitored

your disheartening and distressing

comments to the warden this

morning. Do you actually long

for chaos and disharmony? Your

fascination with the vulgar

Twentieth Century seems to be

affecting your better judgement.

You realize you're setting a bad

example for other officers and

sworn personnel...

HUXLEY:

Thank you for the attitude

readjustment, Chief Earle. Info

assimilated.

Lenina turns and walks through her open office door,

making a face out of sight and ---

INT. LENINA'S OFFICE - DAY

-- curses almost silently under her breath as she

enters...

HUXLEY:

Sanctimonious a**hole.

A MORALITY BOX on the wall picks it up.

MORALITY BOX (V.O.)

Lenina Huxley, you are fined one

half credit for a sotto voce

violation of the verbal morality

statute.

Lettering appears on the face of what appears to be a

block of solid marble. A thin sheaf of paper slides

off the front with the reprimand.

The contrast between everything we have seen so far and

her office is staggering. Her quarters are filled with

framed and faded nostalgia pieces of the 20th Century.

Posters of violent movies, books, magazine covers, ad

signs, artworks and framed newspapers, all of a dark

nature. A hopelessly sweet officer, ALFREDO GARCIA,

sits in the middle of the room shaking his head...

GARCIA:

Whew... That was tense.

Lenina gives him a deadpan glare:

HUXLEY:

That was tense?? Tell me

something, Garcia, don't you get

bored codetracing perps who break

curfew and tell dirty jokes?

GARCIA:

Actually, I find my job deeply

fulfilling.

(looking around)

I just cannot swallow the reality

of this office, Lenina Huxley.

You're still addicted to the 20th

Century high from its harshness,

buzzed by its brutality. Holy

smokes, is there anything in here

which doesn't violate contraband

ordinance 22?

HUXLEY:

(a sweet smile)

Just you, Alfredo Garcia. Don't

you ever want something to happen?

GARCIA:

Goodness. No.

HUXLEY:

I knew you were going to say that.

(sighs)

What I wouldn't give for some

action.

INT. CRYO-PRISON - CONFERENCE AREA - DAY

Simon Phoenix is still fighting to shake off his

defrosted confusion. Locks eyes with the warden.

The look he gives Smithers is chilling.

SMITHERS:

Mr. Phoenix, one of our first and

most illustrious members. Let's

get this one over quick...

Smithers is unsettled. Phoenix is far more awake than

the norm.

SMITHERS:

Twenty-nine years ago, the parole

system...

PHOENIX:

(echoic; no logic yet)

Twenty-nine years ago, the parole

system...

SMITHERS:

(firmer)

... was rendered obsolete.

PHOENIX:

(also firmer)

... was rendered obsolete.

SMITHERS:

(sighs)

Do you have something to say in

your behalf, Mr. Simon?

(beat)

I thought not.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes