Hancock Page #4

ROHEIM (CONT'.D)

(CONTINUING)

Come on, let's go home.

EXT. ROOFTOP - DAY

On the rooftop; the Red Eye Motel.

A trenchcoated figure - we see him from the back, only. We

recognize the broad of his shoulders and the red of his cape,

peering out from a hole in his coat.

A cloud of smoke lingers above his head, from an unseen

cigarette. He stands before the Sheepshead neighborhood, ever so

still.

Something brews within this superman.

15.

EXT. SHEEPSHEAD BAY - DAY

The streets of Sheepshead: apartments, brownstones speckled with

e DELIS and NEWSSTANDS and BARBER SHOPS and OUTDOOR MARKETS - they

are the "esque" in Bro ly qu

Through this hustle-bustle, we spot Mary and Aaron on their way

TO:

BRADLEY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.

Schoolyard activities abound. Buses, bouncing balls, and hoards

of screaming little anti-christs.

I:

Mary leads Aaron along the playground fence, the latter trying

to pull ahead and away.

MARY:

Will you slow down.

AARON:

I know it. I know it.

MARY:

I think I'm... slow down... I'm gaining

weight. Honey, take a look at my waist.

AARON:

What?

MARY:

Is my dress too tight?

AARON:

What? Nothing. It's fine.

MARY:

Really, my waist isn't too big?

AARON:

What? Not here, mom.

MARY:

All right, already. Two-thirty. You do n't

leave the building till then. I'll be

there.

AARON:

I know it, mom. Can I go now?

MARY:

Give me a kiss, you snot.

16.

AARON:

(there is no god)

Geez!

He turns back. Plants a kiss on Mary's smiling cheeks.

MARY:

Two-thirty.

AARON:

All right, mom.

He leaves, merging into the undulating sea of children.

MARY:

(after him; in vain)

You want anything from the store?

He's gone.

EXT. STREET - DAY

This is the Longfellow's street - lower-middle class but

comfortable, quaint, safe. Mr. Longfellow, hustling through the

street, takes us home.

Greeting him at the entrance, at the mailboxes, is CLYDE BANNER

(35). Quite large this tenant is, quite simply a Cro-Magnon Man.

Clyde stands with the morning paper in hand, searching

carelessly through. He finds the SPORTS PAGE. Hides it under his

robe.

CLYDE:

(LOUD)

Longfella. Good to see you.

HORUS:

Clyde...

Clyde shoves the remains of the paper at Horus - in his face.

CLYDE:

Picked this up for you.

(pulls the paper back)

Say thanks.

HORUS:

Thanks.

CLYDE:

(hands it over)

You're a good man.

17.

He heads inside.

Horus swallowing it. He unshuffles the paper, finding the front

page. The headline reads...

RAINSTORM HITS SHEEPSHEAD. NO END IN SIGHT.

Horus checks the sky - a sinewy mesh of angry clouds. He lumbers

inside.

INT. NICK'S MARKET - DAY

Your average market, mom and pop.

Artichokes! Mary handles an artichoke, contemplating. NICK (30),

the grocer, moves behind her. handsome in a greasy,

grimy, rebuilt carb in uretor He's

That's a lovely dress, Mary.

If he could mount her now, he would.

MARY:

You're sweet, Nick.

He cracks a wet smile. Mary, aware, unhands the artichoke. Moves

on.

L:

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET - DAY

Mary moves through the street, embracing a grocery bag.

She continues her way, purpose in every step. No window shopping

bullshit for this woman - Mary's strong, beautiful.

She crosses the street, her destination: CENTRAL FIDELITY BANK.

A dark CHEVY eases pass Mary on this street, pulls to a stop.

Mary continues forth, entering the bank.

INT. BANK - DAY

Sheepshead DENIZENS crisscross amok. People queue behind teller

lines, taking care of business.

Mary takes her place. She glances at the bank CLOCK - it's 10

o'clock.

18.

EXT. BANK - DAY

A BEE spirals the air and lands on the sleeve of a nervous ARM.

This arm protrudes from the dark Chevy, parked before the bank.

The engine is running.

The arm fidgets. SHOOS the insect away. With white knuckles, it

grips the wheel.

INT. BANK - DAY

Same bank, same people. Mary awaits service in the same line.

A MAN ambles pass Mary's line, up towards the front. He cuts off

the person in front, an elderly WOMAN.

WOMAN:

Hey, what's the idea?

The man turns. Smiles. His smile fades, turning into a maniacal.

grin. This man is TOM (35), as plainly evil as the eye can see.

TOM:

You know what, you remind me of my

grandma.

Tom whips out a sawed-off SHOTGUN from his pants...

TOM (CONT'D)

(CONTINUING)

She gave me this when I made parole.

He aims the barrel in her face.

TOM (CONT'D)

(CONTINUING)

Thanks, Granny!

Of course, by now, people have realized the implications of the

situation at hand. They begin to panic.

On cue, two new GUNMEN, JERRY and JERRY (30's), emerge from the

crowded bank, both revealing automatic RIFLES.

Jerry #1 drops the SECURITY GUARD with the butt of his gun.

As planned, they take aim at the surveillance CAMERAS on each

end of the bank. BANG. BANG. They miss, much to Tom's chagrin.

The crowd ducks, Mary among them. Terror grips,the queues.

The Jerrys try again. BANG. BANG. No more cameras. And with

,Irâ–º that, Tom takes center stage. He leaps on the teller counter.

19.

TOM (CONT'D)

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your

captain speaking. My name is Tom. These

are my assistants, Jerry and Jerry.

Why're we doing what we're doing, you

ask? We got one word to say to you

folks...

(shrugging; smiles)

Recession.

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