Grosse Pointe Blank Page #15

stands across the street from the radio station, looking at

Debi in the window... Martin draws a thin rifle scope from

his back pocket, and lifts it to his eye...

MARTIN'S P.O.V. - SCOPE

of Debi, in the crosshairs, bored, tapping a pencil to the

beat of an unheard song.

MARTIN:

dejected. He puts the scope away and gets in his car.

INT. 7-11 - NIGHT

Martin walks into the store, looking around once again at

his old home. To the left of the door, a typical suburban

teenage SKATEBOARDER is lost in the "Mortal Combat" video

game and something too loud from his walkman. Carl, still

working the double, nods to Martin.

CARL:

Can I help you?

MARTIN:

What's done is done.

Martin moves up one aisle to the gum rack. He picks out a

pack of Beaman's and unwraps a stick as he heads to the

counter. On the way, he makes a black Town Car pulling into

a spot next to his own. He immediately changes course, and

bee-lines for a rear aisle where he ducks down...

FELIX:

Comes through the door, drawing a Mac-10 for each hand.

MARTIN:

grabs the gum out of his mouth and sticks it onto the bottom

of the Glock .9mm he has produced from somewhere in his suit.

CARL:

grabs the cash drawer, sets it on the counter, and puts his

hands up.

THE SKATEBOARDER

Plays on.

FELIX AND CARL:

Felix shoots CARL DEAD on his way toward

MARTIN:

Bolts up the cooler aisle. Bursts of FIRE follow him, taking

out each freezer door behind him.

MARTIN AND FELIX

EXCHANGE FIRE John Woo-style between the aisles of the cramped

store. Felix delivers a close-to-home burst as he jumps the

counter, sending Martin diving out of view.

MARTIN:

pinned behind the Slurpee machine, pauses to reload his now

two Glock nines. Martin steals a glance to get a bead on

Felix and is met with a salvo that rocks the Slurpee machine,

spattering him with several flavors... and that's all he can

take. Martin comes up BLASTING with both guns, but all that's

left of Felix is swinging doors and squealing tires.

Martin moves to the cashier island, low to the ground.

THE SKATEBOARDER

Twitches and jerks, still absorbed in his game and oblivious

to the surrounding carnage.

CASHIER ISLAND:

Martin crawls through the waist-level swinging door and moves

to Carl.

CARL:

is really dead. Martin rolls him over to check it out and

finds

A BOMB:

under the corpse.

MARTIN:

Flips the corpse back on top of the device and leaps the

counter toward the doors. He grabs the shoulder or the

Skateboarder, who shrugs him off, annoyed--

SKATEBOARDER:

What the f***, man?!

The video game screen explodes. Shot full of Martin's bullets.

The Skateboarder reacts backward and Martin jerks him out of

the double doors.

EXT. 7-11 - CONTINUOUS

The Skateboarder is running like crazy, and Martin's car is

peeling out in reverse as the 7-11 is blown to hell.

INT. MARTIN'S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Martin's hair is matted with Slurpee as he tries to drive

and cool out. He sees his do in the mirror, pulls out a comb

and starts to comb it back into a slick Pat Riley style.

EXT. RADIO STATION - NIGHT

Martin walks in, not looking half bad, considering. Debi

looks up from some reading. "Naïve Melody" by the Talking

Heads plays in the studio.

MARTIN:

Are you going to the reunion?

DEBI:

No. I'm not going. Is that why you're

here?

MARTIN:

That's part of it.

DEBI:

Well, you'll have a ball. You seem

to have everything everybody wants

when they go back. The car, the suit,

the watch. The look. That just leaves

the little things, like happiness,

character, point of view...

MARTIN:

It's always the little things.

DEBI:

Yep.

Beat.

MARTIN:

I'm wondering how you've been. How

you are. I'd like to catch up with

you. If it's possible.

Beat as Debi considers. She spins her seat to face him.

DEBI:

Okay. Let's catch up. You go first.

MARTIN:

Well, there's not much to tell.

DEBI:

I'm sure you've done worthwhile things

in the last ten years. You've had

experiences.

MARTIN:

Bad experiences.

DEBI:

You met people.

MARTIN:

Bad people.

DEBI:

Watched television?

MARTIN:

Bad television.

DEBI:

(amused)

Jesus. Marty. You're pathetic. It

sounds like you need a Shockabuku.

MARTIN:

What's that?

DEBI:

It's a swift spiritual kick to the

head that alters your reality forever.

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