The Crow Page #8

SIRENS near, o.s.

Eric listens to them, to the night.

ERIC:

Listen:
Top Dollar. He

"owns the

street here." He will "erase

my ass."

ALBRECHT:

You don't

say.

ERIC:

I know Top Dollar has turned your

streets into his hell.

ALBRECHT:

F***ing A, my friend.

ERIC:

The others are called Skank, T-

Bird. Street names. Funboy.

(beat)

Watch me, office Albrecht.

Eric lifts a chunk of glass from the sidewalk. Slow and easy.

Albrecht

doesn't completely trust him. Up comes the gun.

ALBRECHT:

Watch it...

Eric slices open his palm. Blood flows. To his fingertips.

NEW ANGLE -

ERIC AND ALBRECHT

as Eric quickly daubs a crow silhouette in blood on

the wall...

then exhibits the gashed hand to Albrecht.

CLOSE-UP - ERIC'S

HAND:

as the blood retreats and the wound seals itself up.

TIGHT ON:

ALBRECHT:

and the silhouette. Mouth hangs.

ALBRECHT:

You're the one

who did Tin-Tin...

PULL BACK FAST to reveal Eric is gone from the frame.

Albrecht does

a quick 180. No Eric. Flashbars from incoming units begin

to bounce red and blue off his face.

ALBRECHT (CONT'D)

Great. Good

night. Guy shows up

looking like a mime from hell.

(beat)

Least

he didn't do that "walking

against the wind" sh*t; I hate

that.

EXT.

SHOWTIME - NIGHT - TO ESTABLISH.

A night-owl pornucopia. T-Bird enters

beneath a garish theater

marquee. The 2-bill: RUMP ROMP with

BUTTBUSTERS II.

INT. SHOWTIME LOBBY - NIGHT

T-Bird approaches the snack

bar. Wet, breathy mating NOISES

from the auditorium throughout, o.s.

Looking supremely bored,

the counterman, DICKEY BIRD, thumbs a porn

tabloid. So what.

DICKEY BIRD:

T-Bird. Thrill me.

T-BIRD

Business.

T-bird heads left through s steal door that Dickie buzzes

open

for him.

INT. SHOWTIME AUDITORIUM (BACKSTAGE) - NIGHT

T-Bird walks

past dust-covered boxy black speakers as we glimpse

Lance and Angelique

making history in reverse, on the back of the

movie screen:
oratoria as

good as porn films can make it.

PORN QUEEN (O.S.)

I don't know how to

describe how

I feel, Lance -- so restless --

PORN KING (O.S.)

You're

my Moon Queen, Angelique.

PORN QUEEN (o.S.)

Oooh -- I want you're

rocket right

now in my Sea of Tranquility --

Lance --

ANGLE - CATWALK

STAIRS:

As T-Bird approaches, the movie sounds dwindle o.s. He ascends

the skinny metal stairway two steps at a time.

ANGLE - STEEL FACED DOOR

AT TOP OF STAIRS.

As T-Bird nears it, a viewplate SNAPS open to asses

him. By

the time he reaches the top, the door unbolts to admit him.

INT. TOP DOLLAR'S LAIR - NIGHT

As T-Bird enters. The room is organized

around a long meeting

table and flavored with a taste of everything

illegal:
drug

paraphernalia, weapons.

Across the table are a couple of

Sentries like the one that

admits T-Bird to the room. TRACK PAST them to

a lank-haired

silhouette as he turns away from a windowshade, backlit by

Showtime's exterior neon.

This is TOP DOLLAR. Who looks like a Johnny

Winter acid

casualty but is deadly cold, definitely the man in charge.

TOP DOLLAR:

Wild f***ing night. I hear our

pal Tin-Tin got himself very

dead.

T-BIRD

And Gideon's just burned all the

down to the

foundation.

Top's eyebrows go up. Oh really?

T-BIRD (CONT'D)

I:

didn't have nothin to do with

that.

TOP DOLLAR:

Bet that pisses you

off, right?

T-BIRD

Top, what the f*** is going on

tonight?

TOP:

DOLLAR:

Stay normal, T. Cops'll be all

hotwired and aggressive. No

combat moves until I check this

out.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT -

(~CROWVISION") HIGH ANGLE

Taking in the street, the Pit, and a little

girl seated on an

abandoned car.

ANGLE - STREET LEVEL - ON ELLY.

Seated

on the looted wheelless car, playing with a small doll.

CLOSER ANGLE -

ON ELLY:

She doesn't notice someone is watching her yet.

TIGHT ON DOLL,

THEN ELLY:

She looks up o.s. at Eric, who is still out of the frame.

ELLY:

What are you supposed to be? A clown?

CLOSE-UP - ERIC

He smiles

for what seems to be the first time. Warm, even past

his crow makeup.

ERIC:

Sometimes.

He glances back and logs the location of the Pit for

later, not

in a big hurry just now. Turns back to Elly.

WIDE ANGLE -

ERIC AND ELLY:

ELLY:

You look like a rock star without a

job.

ERIC:

I dabble. May I?

He indicates the car hood, a "seat" next to Elly from

which he

may observe the Pit.

ELLY:

If you're not some kinda child

molester.

Eric looks behind himself. Who, me? Genuinely amused. He

shakes his head no and sits down next to Elly.

INT. CLUB TRASH - NIGHT

The music POUNDS and smoke is everywhere, like incense.

INTERCUTS of the

clientele, retro, robotic, clove cigarettes and

rubber clothing; fetish

casual wear.

ANGLE - TOP DOLLAR

right in the center of the noise,

looking downscale and dirty

in this milieu.

ANGLE - ANOTHER CUSTOMER

Passing Top, appraising him, finding him as boring as life

itself.

Undertaker chic, she stares at Top.

TOP DOLLAR:

I thought Halloween

was tomorrow

night.

An Oriental bodyguard passes him in f.g., motioning

to follow.

INT. LAO'S NIGHTCLUB OFFICE - NIGHT

Lao watches club

activity on his flybank of TVs. When Top

Dollar shows up at the office

door two Sentries try to bar his

passage. He shoves through.

TOP:

DOLLAR:

Get outta my way, you mooks.

Lao's demeanor indicates that they

should not kill Top.

LAO:

An unexpected pleasure.

TOP DOLLAR:

Bad

news. Alot of action on the

streets tonight, and nobody

bothered to

clear it with me. Tin-

Tin got himself whacked.

LAO:

Who got himself

what?

TOP DOLLAR:

One of mine. And it wasn't a

standard hit.

LAO:

I had heard something like this.

(beat)

Describe it for me. The

"hit".

TOP DOLLAR:

I was wondering if you could tell

me anything...

about a wildcat

operative.

LAO:

I know of no one.

(beat)

But

even if there is, I am sure it

is nothing outside your capacity

to

deal with?

TOP DOLLAR:

Anybody violates my turf -- our

turf -- I'll

rip out there heart

and show it to 'em.

LAO:

To be sure. Now tell

how your

friend died.

INT. PRECINCT HOUSE - NIGHT

ANNABELLA, a

comfortable large, spider-in-the-web deskworker,

sits typing at a

terminal. Miked headphone in one ear, police

scanner chatter o.s. She

blows and pops a pink bubble of gum.

ALBRECHT (O.S.)

Annie?

ANGLE -

ANNABELLA AND ALBRECHT

Albrecht enters frame from across her countertop.

ANNABELLA:

Whatever it is, the answer's no,

Eddie. I'm too busy

tonight.

ALBRECHT:

Annie, I need a file.

There is a desperate edge to

Albrecht's voice.

ANNABELLA:

Speak up.

(beat; her guard up)

Clear it with the Captain if you

need a file.

ALBRECHT:

This is

special, darlin'. Please?

Annabella eyes Albrecht doubtfully.

Fatalistic sigh.

ANNABELLA:

Just don't tell me you "owe me

one."

What file?

ALBRECHT:

Double homicide. A year ago.

Las Halloween.

EXT. STREET NEAR THE PIT - ERIC AND ELLY - NIGHT

Still hanging by the

car, a bit more familiar with each other

now. A low-slung

mirror-windowed LIMOUSINE hisses past them and

curbs across the street

from the Pit.

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