Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan Page #2

SUZY:

Jim...?

Again, nothing. She wraps herself in the sheet, moving

towards the open door. The ship creaks again.

SUZY'S POINT OF VIEW

as she grows closer to the doorway, nothing but pitch-

black beyond it.

SUZY:

Stop screwing around, Jim. I mean

it...

...And just as she reaches the door:

A HOCKEY MASKED MONSTER

leaps out, clutching a HUGE KNIFE. Suzy barely has time

to scream before JASON PLUNGES THE KNIFE INTO HER CHEST.

SUZY:

stands there in speechless shock, looking down at her

mortal wound. But there's no blood.

THE MONSTER:

pulls the knife back out, pushing the blade in and out

with his hand. It's a retractable rubber knife. JIM

pulls off the hockey mask with a huge grin, tossing it

aside.

JIM:

Gotcha good, baby cakes.

She doesn't know whether to hug him with relief or kick

him in the balls. He pulls her back onto the bed,

laughing.

EXT. HOUSEBOAT - CLOSE ON HOCKEY MASK

sitting dormant on the deck, where Jim tossed it. A

SHADOW FALLS ACROSS IT...followed by a SLIMY, DECOMPOSING

HAND. The hand grabs it like it's an old friend, pulling

it away.

INT. HOUSEBOAT - CONTINUOUS

as Jim holds his angry girlfriend down on the bed, trying

unsuccessfully to kiss her.

JIM:

All right, all right -- I'm a major

ass.

SUZY:

And you'll never do it again.

JIM:

And I'll never do it again. Forgive

me?

SUZY:

No.

She's resisting only for effect. Her legs curl around

him, finally giving in.

EXT. HOUSEBOAT - NIGHT

A deadly-sharp SPEAR GUN rests in its rack outside the

cabin. JASON'S HAND REMOVES IT.

INT. HOUSEBOAT - CONTINUOUS

The sheets begin to roll like waves as they work each

other. Thoughts of Jason are nonexistent now.

ANGLE - CABIN DOOR

Nothing there for a moment...then a pair of moss-covered

BARE FEET SLOSH INTO FRAME.

SUZY:

closes her eyes with pleasure...

ANGLE - CABIN DOOR

...and camera RISES from the mossy feet, up the bloodless

legs and torso to ultimately reveal the hockey-masked

face of our anti-hero: JASON VOORHEES.

SUZY:

lets out a broad smile, her eyelids fluttering. They stay

open long enough to regard the visitor in the doorway.

She tries to choke out a warning to Jim, who's just

collapsed himself.

SUZY:

JJJJJJJJason...

He doesn't follow her glance, smiling instead.

JIM:

Uh-huh. You must really think I'm an

ass.

But she continues to stare in horror as:

JASON:

raises the spear, taking aim.

ANGLE - SUZY AND JIM

Hs starts to kiss her but she bolts up with a blood-

curdling SCREAM. A second later, JASON FIRES THE SPEAR,

PIERCING HER NECK, PINNING HER TO THE HEAD BOARD.

Jim stares point-blank at his dead girlfriend, not able

to assimilate it quickly enough. He spins around to see

the monster himself.

JIM:

Ohmygod...

Jim springs off the bed, looking around for anything to

defend himself with, grabbing the bedside lamp. He

SMASHES IT OVER JASON'S HEAD which has little effect. Jim

scrambles to get past him, but Jason LIFTS JIM IN THE

AIR, SLAMMING HIM DOWN ON ONE OF THE SPIKED BEDPOSTS.

EXT. CRYSTAL LAKE - NIGHT

as the HOUSEBOAT silently drifts onward. The lone

silhouette of Jason emerges from within, taking the helm.

He's back.

FADE OUT/MAIN CREDITS.

FADE IN:

EXT. HARBOR - ESTABLISHING - DAY

Only the faintest sign of daylight can be seen through a

thick blanket of gray fog. In the distance, speckled

lights outlining a smaller LUXURY CRUISE SHIP

intermittently appear.

EXT. DOCKSIDE - DAY

Standing at the boarding ramp is CHARLES MCCULLOCH,

clipboard in hand. He's just finished checking off a pair

of new-agey SENIOR GIRLS. McCulloch is approaching fifty,

wearing a tie and unwrinkled clothes, as well as the

disposition of a stern puritan.

MCCULLOCH:

Remember girls, the shuffleboard

tournament will start at six p.m.

sharp. A non-attendance will restrict

your time in port, understood?

They nod for his benefit, exchanging derogatory whispers

as they head up the ramp. Camera ADJUSTS to find a small

parking lot adjacent to the docks, where several cars are

just now arriving -- parents dropping off their high

school seniors, hugging them bon voyage.

CLOSER ANGLE PARKING LOT

as SEAN ROBERTSON walks toward the ship with pal MILES

WOLFE. Sean's a tall, nice looking, somewhat serious guy;

Miles is shorter, athletic and more extroverted.

MILES:

You're telling me this boat has a pool

with a three meter board?

SEAN:

It's a ship and that's right. Plus a

disco, gym, game room and a lot more.

MILES:

I think I'm gonna blow off New York

and just stay on this thing.

MCCULLOCH:

You'll do no such thing, Mr. Wolfe...

Camera ADJUSTS to reveal McCulloch, holding his list,

checking off their names.

MCCULLOCH:

Your itinerary has been carefully

planned and make no mistake, it will

be executed accordingly.

MILES:

(under his breath)

Of course...wouldn't want to risk

enjoying this trip.

McCulloch gives him a frown. Sean steps up to him

tentatively.

SEAN:

Which cabin is Rennie in, Mr.

McCulloch?

MCCULLOCH:

Rennie's not coming.

He's devastated.

SEAN:

But I thought...

MCCULLOCH:

She changed her mind.

(eyeing list)

Let's see...Mr. Wolfe is in stateroom

one-eleven and you, Mr. Robertson, are

in two-twenty-five.

A booming VOICE from above interrupts them:

ADMIRAL ROBERTSON (O.S.)

Sean -- where the hell have you been?

We're already into early departure

protocol...

ANOTHER ANGLE:

Standing on the upper deck is a no-nonsense, uniformed

Navy man, ADMIRAL ROBERTSON. The captain of the ship. And

Sean's father. Sean's sadness about Rennie's absence is

immediately replaced with anxiety.

SEAN:

Be right up, Dad.

He and Miles head up the gangway, both boys giving

McCulloch one last glare.

INT. '76 BMW 2002 - DAY

Behind the wheel is MISS COLLEEN VAN DEUSEN, thirties,

attractive, a progressive attitude. RENNIE WICKHAM sits

next to her -- she's seventeen, pretty, slightly

withdrawn. Rennie's dog TOBY, a border collie, rides in

the back seat.

MISS VAN DEUSEN:

I'm glad you decided to come after

all.

RENNIE:

Me too. But I'm not sure Uncle Charles

will be.

MISS VAN DEUSEN:

You let me worry about him, okay?

(pause)

Personal experiences are what fuel the

minds of great writers, Rennie. You

made the right decision.

RENNIE:

What about not-so-great writers?

Rennie smiles self-deprecatingly, Miss Van Deusen

grinning back. But Rennie's smiles are few and far

between, this one disappearing as she glances out the

window.

RENNIE'S POINT OF VIEW (SECOND UNIT)

as the countless gallons of harbor and lake water spread

out before her, eery in the bog. A small ROWBOAT grazes

across it occupied by two indistinguishable people.

RETURN TO SHOT:

Rennie's eyes show a hidden terror. She quickly turns

away, shivering briefly. Miss Van Deusen notices. She

turns a corner, heading into the parking lot.

MISS VAN DEUSEN:

Everything okay?

RENNIE:

Just felt a little chill.

Rennie rubs her arms, faking coldness.

MISS VAN DEUSEN:

Did you know that I'm giving up

teaching?

RENNIE:

Really?

MISS VAN DEUSEN:

Since the school is closing anyway,

I'm going to write that novel I've

been threatening on everybody.

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