![Find The Abyss on Amazon](https://www.scripts.com/images/script/614_the-abyss.png)
The Abyss Page #6
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1989
- 145 min
- 650 Views
She closes the watertight door, forcing him out. Locks it. She turns and
throws her shoe hard against the far wall.
LINDSEY:
AAAARRRGGH!
She flops down on the bed, sitting... staring at the wall. Her armor is
gone. She looks small and vulnerable. A long beat. She reaches over to the
tiny sink. Amid the clutter is a bottle of Bud's aftershave. She unscrews
it and takes a sniff. Catches herself. Tosses it.
LINDSEY:
Sh*t.
INT. QUARTERS/HEAD 56
Bud barges into the tiny head and puts some soap on his ring finger. He pulls
the ring off roughly and throws it into the toilet. He reaches forward to
flush. Can't do it. Now really pissed off at himself, he reaches into the
toilet bowl, wrist deep in the chemical-blue water, and salvages the ring.
He puts it on and washes his hands. The right hand stays faintly blue no
matter how hard he scrubs.
BUD:
Sh*t.
CUT TO:
EXT. DEEPCORE 57
The platform is stopped, hovering in place. Like a great spacecraft setting
down on a barren planet, the rig settles into the bottom ooze. Flatbed
releases its tow lines and heads back to its berth inside.
CUT TO:
INT. SUB-BAY58
CLOSE ON A PHOTOGRAPH, actually a computer-composited down-looking scan from
a towed LIDAR (laser imaging sonar) rig. It shows a faint, blurry outline of
the Montana lying on her side on a ledge part-way down the canyon wall. There
is no detail. A finger points to a flat ledge nearby. An "X" has been put
on with a grease pencil.
COFFEY (V.O.)
This is us. We're just on the edge of the Cayman
Trough. The Montana is here, on its side, 300
meters away and 70 meters below us. We think she
slid down the wall, and lodged against this
outcropping.
CUT WIDE, showing the rig crew gathered around a worktable in the sub-bay.
The divers, Bud, Catfish, Sonny, Finler, Jammer, and the four SEALs have
their dry-suits on. The pre-dive briefing. Lindsey, One Night, and Hippy
will crew the submersibles. Wilhite is going around clipping DOSIMETER
BADGES on everybody.
SONNY:
This tells us how much radiation we get?
HIPPY:
Hey, whoah... I can't handle no radiation, man.
Forget it! Include me out.
CATFISH:
Hippy, you p*ssy.
HIPPY:
What good's the money if your dick drops off in
six months?
COFFEY:
We'll take reading as we go. If the reactor's
breached or the warheads have released
radioactive debris, we'll back away. Simple.
BUD:
Okay... Hippy's not going... McWhirter, you
can run Little Geek.
Bud pats the top of a small ROV, sitting next to its larger brother, Big
Geek.
HIPPY:
No way! No way! He can't fly an ROV worth
sh*t. I'll go. Sh*t!
COFFEY:
(to all)
On the dive, you will do absolutely nothing
without direct orders from me, and you will
follow my instructions without discussion. Is
this clear? Alright, I want everyone finished
prep and ready to get wet in fifteen minutes.
The rig crew disperses, picking up helmets and diving gear. Some are studying
the diagrams of the Montana's interior layout. Bud takes Coffey aside as
the others prepare.
BUD:
Look, it's three AM. These guys are running on
bad coffee and four hours sleep. You better
start cutting them some slack.
COFFEY:
I can't afford slack, Brigman.
BUD:
Hey, you come on my rig, you don't talk to me,
you start ordering my guys around. It won't
work. You gotta know how to handle these
people... we have a certain way of doing things
here.
COFFEY:
I'm not interested in your way of doing things.
Just get your team ready to dive.
End of discussion. Coffey is walking away. Burning, Bud crosses to his gear
locker. Picks up his helmet. Finler is suiting out next to him.
FINLER:
Hey, you know your hand is blue?
BUD:
Shut up and get your gear on.
NEARBY, Monk comes over to pick his helmet up off the worktable. Hippy
points to the heavy equipment case that says F.B.S. DEEP SUIT/MARK IV.
HIPPY:
I've been meaning to ask you what this thing is.
Mink opens the case and shows them an unfamiliar diving suit, what looks like
a space helmet, and a large backpack.
MONK:
Fluid breathing system. We just got them. We
use it if we need to go really deep.
HIPPY:
How deep?
MONK:
Deep.
(shrugs)
It's classified... you know. Anyway, you
breathe liquid, so you can't be compressed.
Pressure doesn't get to you.
Catfish is grappling with the concept.
CATFISH:
You're saying you get liquid in your lungs?
MONK:
Oxygenated fluorocarbon emulsion.
Monk take a clear plastic box full of O-rings off the shelf and dumps them
out. He opens a valve on the backpack and allows some of the fluid inside
it to drain into the box. Then he take Beany by the tail off Hippy's
shoulder.
HIPPY:
Hey!
MONK:
Check this out.
He drops Beany in the box and, before Hippy can protest, closes the lid.
Beany is forced under the surface. He struggled for a second, and bubbles
come out of his mouth. Then he casually swims around in there, completely
submerged... breathing liquid. Catfish and the others stare into the box,
amazed.
MONK:
See? He's diggin' it.
Monk takes Beany out and hold him by the tail for a few seconds to drain his
lungs. Then hands him back to Hippy. The rat is annoyed, but otherwise
alright.
CATFISH:
This is no bullshit hands down the goddamnedest
thing I ever saw.
CUT TO:
EXT. DEEPCORE/DROPOFF 59
Three sets of moving lights move outward from Deepcore. Cab One and Three,
with Lindsey and Hippy at the controls respectively, and One Night in the
Flatbed. Lindsey is in the lead. She approaches the cliff-like drop-off
and starts to descend.
LINDSEY:
Com-check, everybody. Flatbed, you on line?
ONE NIGHT:
Ten-four, Lindsey, read you loud and clear.
LINDSEY:
Cab Three?
HIPPY:
Cab Three, check. Right behind you.
LINDSEY (V.O.)
What's you depth, Cab Three?
HIPPY:
1840... 50... 60... 70...
LINDSEY:
Going over the wall. Coming to bearing 065.
Everybody stay tight and in sight.
ONE NIGHT:
Starting out descent. Divers, how're you doing?
EXT. FLATBED60
Eight divers ride the back of Flatbed like itinerant workers on the way to
the fields. Bud and his civilian crew, Catfish, Finler, and Jammer... sit
across from the SEALs. They are in their gear and breathing from umbilical
hooked in Flatbed's low-pressure manifold.
BUD:
Okay so far.
JAMMER:
How deep's the drop-off here?
CATFISH:
This here's the bottomless pit, baby. Two and
COFFEY:
Knock off the chatter. Cab One, you getting
anything?
INT./EXT. CAB ONE61
Lindsey consults her array of instruments.
COFFEY:
Cab One, do you see it yet?
LINDSEY:
The magnetometer is pegged. Side-scan is showing
a big return, but I don't see anything yet. Are
you sure you got the depth right on this?
BUD (V.O., filtered)
You should be almost to it, ace.
She turns the submersible and...
The spotlight flares back from the great brass screw of the Montana. It
dwarfs Cab One, FILLING FRAME.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"The Abyss" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Aug. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_abyss_614>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In