Hancock Page #3

T.V. SET (O.S.)

(FEMALE)

Ooh yeah, big fella. That's it. Shoot

your load, baby. Let it fly... FLY...!

(male; in ecstasy)

fly. YES! G0000D!

Hancock absorbs the action from the can, a glint of pain on his

face.

He takes a long hard drag on the cigarette - a full stick

deteriorates into ashes before our eyes.

And outside, it rains like there's no tomorrow.

CUT TO:

EXT. SHEEPSHEAD BAY - DAY

Morning brings a cease-fire on precipitation. The streets

glimmer from puddles left behind from the night.

The overcast sky - its precarious rain formation indicates that

the storm is far from over.

INT. KITCHEN - DAY

A SUPERMAN lunchbox perches on the kitchen table. Mother and son

prepare for school.

Aaron adjusts his raincoat, looking disturbed.

11.

Mary parts his hair, Straightens

his shirt.

_the complete morning routine. Her maternal h'ahdf

Stay inside.

AARON:

(IRRITATED)

I don't need you walking

me to school.

Mary clasps her ears - deaf.

MARY:

not listening

.Lalalala...

AARON:

(in disbelief)

I got the only mother

does this. in the world that

I'm not lisMARY g. Lalalala..,

INT. WATANABE'

S SHOPPING EMPORIUM - THI

RD FLOOR - DAY

A light beam.

It dances over the consoles of H

H orns holsters i-fi's televisions

, his flashli ht , stereo

floor. He take and mores ' across the s

s the stairs g - down. howrooms

Horus passes the

second floor.

INT. FIRST FLOOR - DAY

Horus crosses the floor

to the back,. to where

ROHEIM (50)

stoops, on a stool and

in a deep

from his mou th over his saturated ssleeve. A line of SALIVA dangles

The badge and uniform reveal

employee. Roheim another U-Rent Secu Co.

is your uncle lostjck sexuallytdeviant

as threatening as a burnt-outmat and

CHSTICK:

Horns stands over Roheim's slumpne ss. Removes a

from his own pocket. handkerchief

HORUS:

(GENTLY)

Roheim.

12.

He's done this before.

ROHEIM:

(dream state)

Olga...

HORUS:

Roheim. Let's go home.

Roheim stirs...

ROHEIM:

. b*tch.

From the dark recesses of sleep - he wakes. Straightens up.

Slurps back his dignity.

ROHEIM (CONT' D)

(BARELY)

What, already?

Takes the handkerchief. Wipes his mouth.

HORUS:

I just made the last run.

He helps the old man to his feet.

ROHEIM:

You're a good man.

INT. RED EYE MOTEL (7F) - DAY

An ASHTRAY buried under a mountain of butts.

A bed unslept. The TV is on, commercialing some spring-fresh

vaginal wash. The room sits empty.

But the bathroom door is open. Inside, the supersuit peeled down

to his waist, Hancock shaves.

HANCOCK:

(mumbling; rehearsing)

it's about responsibility... with

what is empowered in you... to correct

the ills of man.

No foam. No gel. Just skin and the razor edge of his belt BUCKLE

- it slices through stubble, clearing up a face that has yet to

sleep.

13.

HANCOCK (CONT'D)

(AGAIN)

it's about responsibility...

Hancock reaches into the cabinet below the sink - pulls out a

BOTTLE of 409 all-purpose cleaner...

On the tube, the commercial segues way into...

T.V. (O.S.)

(FAINTLY)

And on the world front, heavy fighting

continues in Angola as rebel forces

storm... regime... under the military

stronghold...

The SOUND of machine guns CRACKLE amidst mortar explosions and

civil destruction.

Hancock listens - it disturbs him. He whirls around, accosts the

TV Rips it from the wall, throws it out the window. And a CRASH

eradicates images of war and chaos.

He returns to the bathroom. To the mirror. Proceeds to spray his

teeth with 409...

EXT. WATANABE'S SHOPPING EMPORIUM - DAY

Behold this imposing, block-long behemoth of commerce and

decadence. A shopper's wet dream, this is WATANABE'S SHOPPING

EMPORIUM.

From the street, notice the display windows - all mannequins

come complete with outfit and ultra-erect nipples.

As EMPLOYEES file into the service entrance, out comes Horus and

Roheim. They head streetward, to the sidewalk.

Roheim unscrews the battery cap from his flashlight. Takes a

swig from its hollow interior.

ROHEIM:

I'll just play out the rest of this Eight

Ball...

He laps up the last drop. Reloads it with a couple of batteries

from his jacket.

ROHEIM (CONT' D)

(caps it)

like that.

Horus looks on - silent.

14.

A POLICE VEHICLE enters this urban landscape. It slows in front

of them. The cops: RUTGER and ADAMS, two hairy-knuckled

testosterone cases with nothing to do.

RUTGER.

(passenger seat)

Boys...

The cops smile at one another. A large SHOTGUN rests fully erect

between them. And they drive off.

Horus, watching them go, focuses in on the

"TO SERVE AND PROTECT"

of their vehicle.

Roheim watches him - turning red with drama.

ROHEIM:

Bastards... couldn't protect a pitcher of

warm spit... couldn't find their

a**hole with common sense and a thumb.

(BEAT)

Like I been saying, it's their.loss. The

jerk-offs, they don't got the heart...

the sensitivity of a man like you.

Horus tries to shrug off these words. No good - they stick like

a thorn in the eye of his soul.

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