Swingers Page #3

4 EXT. MIKE'S BUILDING - FRANKLIN AVENUE - NIGHT 4

Mike is dressed to the nines in classic vintage threads.

He's trying to look at ease as he straightens his cuff links.

He approaches Trent who suavely leans against his worn down

ride. He's a tall, slim, good-looking cat. His sharkskin

suit hangs well on his lanky frame as it tapers to his

ankles. Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me" on the tape deck adds

an elegance to the scene. They exchange an impish grin and

depart without saying a word. Maybe this isn't such a bad

idea.

CUT TO:

5 INT. TRENT'S CAR - DETAIL SHOT - SPEEDOMETER - NIGHT 5

The NEEDLE IS PINNED. The gauges are blurred by the

vibration of the poorly tuned engine. The SHOT WIDENS to

reveal that the "Oil" and "Service" dummy lights are both

illuminated, causing an eerie red glow onto TRENT's white

knuckles.

6 EXT. DESERT ROAD - NIGHT 6

Trent's car is red-lined. The SWINGERS are Vegas bound. Do

not pass go.

MATCH CUT TO:

7 INT. TRENT'S CAR - NIGHT 7

MIKE:

(counting bills)

I took out three hundred, but I'm only

gonna bet with one. I figure if we buy

a lot of chips, the pit boss will see and

they'll comp us all sorts of sh*t, then

we trade back the chips at the end of the

night. You gotta be cool though.

TRENT:

I'm cool, baby. They're gonna give Daddy

a room, some breakfast, maybe Bennett's

singing.

MIKE:

I'm serious. This is how you do it. I'm

telling you.

TRENT:

I know. Daddy's gonna get the Rainman

suite. Vegas, baby. We're going to

Vegas!

MIKE:

Vegas! You think we'll get there by

midnight?

TRENT:

Baby, we're gonna be up by five hundy by

midnight. Vegas, baby!

MIKE:

Vegas!

Mike twists up the Chairman of the Board as we...

DISSOLVE TO:

8 INT. TRENT'S CAR - HOURS LATER 8

The two swingers are starting to fray around the edges but

are unwilling to admit it to each other or themselves. Frank

has been replaced by talk radio.

TRENT:

Vegas, baby!

MIKE:

Vegas!

The needle is still buried.

DISSOLVE TO:

9 INT. TRENT'S CAR - MANY HOURS LATER 9

Sleep deprivation and desert static radio.

TRENT:

Vegas.

MIKE:

Vegas.

DISSOLVE TO:

10 INT. TRENT'S CAR - LATER THAT NIGHT 10

Mike is sleeping in the passenger seat.

TRENT:

Wake up, baby.

MIKE:

(stirring)

Whu?

TRENT:

Look at it, baby. Vegas, baby!

Trent points out a mountain range. It is now the only thing

separating them from their destination. The surreal glow of

the desert sky is accentuated by the loud slashing of the

cobalt and ruby lasers emanating from a source masked by

the craggy peaks. Mike slowly stirs from his slumber. He is

transfixed by this affrontation of nature. It is his first

glimpse of the city without God.

MIKE:

(in reverie)

Vegas.

CUT TO:

11 EXT. VEGAS STRIP - NIGHT 11

The shrill cry of Basie's fat brass section heralds the

arrival of the young swingers. Their eyes drink every watt

of golden light as Sinatra's crooning urges them on.

Mike has either had enough sleep or so little that it no

longer matters. Either way, there's no turning back.

They roll up to a casino valet. TILT UP to a skull and

crossbones which looms overhead.

CUT TO:

12 INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - NIGHT 12

The two guys walk and talk down a fluorescent hallway. It is

well past midnight and the only patrons at this hour are

tourists too drunk to sleep and compulsive gamblers who snuck

out of their rooms without waking their wives.

It is a weeknight and it is beginning to become painfully

obvious that our boys are overdressed.

The decor is nautical plaster. Castings of bearded men with

primitive prosthesis clutching daggers between their teeth

are everywhere.

All of ye olde promenade shoppes are closed.

MIKE:

(the first budding of

crankiness)

Pirates of the f***ing Caribbean.

TRENT:

This is the hot new place, besides, you

love pirates. Tell me Mikey doesn't love

pirates.

MIKE:

This is f***in' post-pubescent

Disneyland.

TRENT:

You gotta love the pirates, baby. The

pirates are money.

The corridor empties into the equally kitch CASINO.

MIKE:

This place is dead. I thought this was

the city that never sleeps.

TRENT:

That's New York, baby. You should know

that. Look at the waitresses. I'm gonna

get me a peg-leg baby.

MIKE:

They're all skanks.

TRENT:

Baby, there are beautiful babies here.

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