Logan

AN LCD BILLBOARD WITH DEFECTIVE PIXELS

A BEAUTIFUL COUPLE dance on a giant can of a Red-Bull-like

drink--HYPNO! The label morphs to different flavors.

EXT. A VACANT LOT -- NIGHT

Colored light from the billboard flickers over a bullet

riddled sign:
ROUTE 85. U.S. BORDER, EL PASO, TEXAS.

Beneath the sign is a LONG BLACK LIMOUSINE.

Cars whip past on the highway. Then A VAN passes, blasting

some future version of Techno Latino Hip Hop. A SQUEAL OF

TIRES OS. Now the music gets louder as the van returns,

cruising slowly past the black limo before pulling into the

lot. Five Bangers bail out and check out the black stretch.

The limo doors are locked, windows tinted, so they can’t see

what’s inside, but they check out the tires and wheels and

like what they see. With the speed of a pit crew, they open

the back of the van and out come TOOLS AND A JACK.

INT. LIMO -- SAME

We move over the back bench, past empty bottles, fast food

wrappers as A SLEEPING MAN’S FACE ratchets into frame.

He opens his red eyes.

The man is LOGAN aka The Wolverine or more accurately, Drunk

Wolverine. He blinks, dazed, feeling the car lurching upward.

Older than we've seen him, he clutches a Tequila bottle.

EXT. LIMO -- EL PASO HIGHWAY TURNOUT - NIGHT

As the back door opens, the tequila bottle drops to the dirt

and A BOOTED LEG STEPS OUT.

Logan shuffles, stiff, to the other side of the stretch where

the Bangers work, removing wheels, lit by colored light.

LOGAN:

...Uh. Please stop, guys. Those,..

those are chrome plated lugs.

They all five turn. Some pull guns on the drunk limo driver.

He just keeps talking, slurring some...

LOGAN (CONT’D)

you’re gonna strip ‘em. Plating

flakes off, you know...

A Jittery Banger c*cks his shotgun.

Final Shooting - 8/23/2016 2.

LOGAN (CONT’D)

It’s a lease, you know, and no one

wants to pay to ride in a-

-- THE JITTERY BANGER FIRES. Blows Logan right off his feet.

LOGAN (CONT’D)

F***.

Now might be a good time to talk about “fights” described in

the next 100 or so pages. Basically, if you’re on the make

for a hyper choreographed, gravity defying, city-block

destroying, CG fuckathon, this ain’t your movie.

In this flick, people will get hurt or killed when sh*t falls

on them. They will get just as hurt or just as killed if they

get hit with something big and heavy like, say, a car. Should

anyone in our story have the misfortune to fall off a roof or

out a window, they won’t bounce. They will die.

As for our hero with his so-called eternal life and healing.

Well, he’s older now. If you keep reading, you’ll discover

Logan’s about to get his ass kicked. But before we get to

that, we should make it clear his abilities ain’t what they

were. Yes, he’s a drunk, but he’s also fading on the inside.

Adamantium implants leeching into his system, causing chronic

pain and diminished healing, hence booze as painkiller.

So by all means, go ahead and worry about him.

Now where were we? Oh, yeah-

As the smoke settles, a CROWBAR-toting Banger angrily chews

out Jitters in Spanish for firing. The others resume their

work... none aware of Logan slowly getting up, till --

LOGAN (CONT’D)

Guys... seriously...

(gets to his feet)

You don’t wanna do this.

The Bangers react to Logan with bafflement. Ad-lib Spanish

reactions, nervous chuckles -

CROWBAR presses down JITTER’S gun as he moves to Logan.

We hear a familiar SNIKT! as claws slowly extend from one of

Logan’s hands, then mostly extend from the other. Logan is

still frowning at his bad hand when-

CROWBAR THWACKS HIS SKULL. A metallic ring.

Off balance and pissed, Logan swings at them as they

converge, but he’s drunk and soon they are pounding him with

knives and guns and fists and a torque wrench.

Final Shooting - 8/23/2016 3.

He tries his best to keep them from the limo, catches one

guy’s bat an inch before it would dent the car.

Another one of them shoots in that direction, but Logan puts

himself in front of the bullet. The pain from that little

move stops him long enough for them to resume the pummeling.

Suddenly, Logan’s eyes go yellow, pupils dilating. He lets

out a long, loud yell. Fury rockets up in him, like cocaine.

HE STANDS AND RAMS HIS CLAWS INTO CROWBAR and kicks another

Banger into the back of the open van. Yet another runs at

Logan only to get gored in the neck and tossed. This is real

work for Logan, not easy. And it is fueled by rage.

Jitters again raises his sawed-off, he will nail the car for

sure, but Logan slices off his arm above the elbow.

Sadly for Logan, the hand, while disconnected from the body

it once belonged to, is still holding the gun. So, as it hits

the dirt, the gun goes off, putting several pellet-sized

holes in the door of the limo.

This, more than anything else, doubles Logan anger-

LOGAN (CONT’D)

Motherf-

WHO GETS HIT ONCE MORE --and then goes after the last banger

who, seeing he had his chance, leaps into the van and spins

out of the lot, his wounded compadre in back, spilling onto

the dirt as the van bounces back onto the road.

Logan picks up his keys, some loose change and a single

silver bullet. He stands, staring at the holes in his

otherwise pristine stretch as RAIN BEGINS TO FALL.

He sucks in deep breaths, forcing himself to regain control.

His eyes return to normalcy. A PHONE VIBRATES OS. Logan takes

out his, looks at it (he’s got a fare), kicks the jack from

the under the chassis.

WE CRANE UP as Logan starts up the stretch and makes a loop

in the lot, taking care to run over the three remaining

Bangers before laying rubber onto the highway...

MAIN TITLES BEGIN:

CALL-IN GUEST (O.S.)

Everyone’s asleep, Burt. Sleepwalking!

Hostages! No one cares!

Final Shooting - 8/23/2016 4.

INT./EXT. LIMO - EL PASO STREETS - NIGHT

LOGAN cruises the wet El Paso streets. LCD Billboards for

chemically enhanced life. Gang graffiti on self-driving

buses. A kaleidoscope of moments, dark and mundane.

CALL IN GUEST:

You can’t see the connection? Tween

the ice caps, pornographers, debt,

mutants, poisoned water, it’s all-–

Colored lights play against A TAXI & LIMO ID. Logan’s photo

over the name:
“JAMES HOWLETT”

CALL IN HOST:

Clyde, its 2026! We’re talkin ‘bout

a hostage crisis and you’re talkin’

mutants? That’s history, pal. Trey

in Galveston, you’re on!

A beat throbs through the partition. Logan’s eyes flick to--

FOUR INEBRIATED PROM BOYS in back, in pastel tuxes. Three of

them stand on the bench looking out the sunroof. They howl

and shout, “rapping” with the now blasting music, waving to

rain-soaked Hispanics at a HEAVILY GUARDED BORDER GATE.

CLOSE-- LOGAN as he endures the torture, jaw clenched, brake

lights on his face as WE CUT TO :

EXT. EL PASO GAS STATION -- EARLIER

Wet and bullet-riddled from the altercation with the Bangers,

Logan grabs a “back-up” suit from the trunk. He holds it up,

not in the best shape, but will have to do.

BACK TO:
INT./EXT. LIMO -- PROM CAR -- EL PASO STREETS

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