The Monster Squad Page #3

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CHUD:

I got something we can watch

instead.

D'JUAN

Dumbass, that's a DVD. You see a

DVD player up there?

CHUD:

I'm not TALKING to you.

DEACON:

What is it?

CHUD:

"Twins of Evil." It's a horror

flick from the seventies...

D'JUAN

Man, nobody wants to watch your

stupid monster movies. Shut up, and

settle.

DEACON:

I do. Any tits in it?

CHUD:

Oh my God, there's this one

scene...

13.

D'JUAN

Oh my God, who gives a sh*t? What

are you bringing that to school

for, anyway?

CHUD:

My mom, uh...

D'JUAN

I don't care.

DEACON:

Then stop interrupting. How many

tits, kid?

CHUD:

A sh*t-ton. There's also this girlon-

girl thing, where...

LIAM:

That's a different movie.

A pause. All eyes go to Liam, who hasn't moved; he doesn't

return the glances.

CHUD:

What?

LIAM:

You're thinking of "The Vampire

Lovers." Same studio, same trilogy,

different movie.

DEACON:

And then there were two.

CHUD:

Woah. I didn't know you were into

the genre.

LIAM:

Yeah.

14.

D'JUAN

Oh, okay. I didn't know you all had

a little club going on in here...

.

CHUD:

It's not a CLUB. (to Liam) You ever

see the original "Legend of Hell

House," from...

D'JUAN

Yo. Hey. Listen to me... nobody

cares about horror movies, yeah?

Nobody.

CHUD:

Like you know anything about it!

D'JUAN

I know that nobody cares. Only some

sorry-ass kids who got scared when

they were little, and who can't let

the sh*t go. It's psychological.

LIAM:

It's escapism. Same as any movies,

any books.

CHUD:

Thank you! Thank you. He knows what

he's talking about.

D'JUAN

He doesn't, and you don't, either.

Which is why you're bringing some

stupid DVDs to SCHOOL with you.

That's not healthy.

DEACON:

What's wrong with a little

initiative?

15.

D'JUAN

You still talking, Means?

DEACON:

I'm an advocate for freedom, jock.

Which means that... if a man wants

to bring the things that make him

happy to this squalid shithole,

then...

Deacon continues to orate, as he digs into his own bookbag,

coming up with ANOTHER DVD box. His, however, is quite

clearly PORN, as illustrated by the glossy raunch on the

cover.

DEACON:

.. he should have the right to do

so. It's America.

D'Juan and Chud are transfixed on the DVD. Liam couldn't look

more indifferent.

CHUD:

I'll trade you.

D'JUAN

I'll buy that off you, right here.

CHUD:

Oh, what happened to all the sh*t

you were talking two minutes ago?

D'JUAN

That was PERSONAL, kid. This is

business. How much you want for it?

DEACON:

This one's got sentimental value...

so it's not for sale. The hundred

or so other ones that my old man

has, however, are.

16.

CHUD:

I need it more than HE does. I

can't even bring up WIKIPEDIA on my

computer at home...

D'JUAN

Oh, you got it rough. You're from

the STREETS.

DEACON:

Gents, gents. I assure you, there's

enough smut to go around.. if you'd

like to confer after school, then

I'd be happy to deliver.

D'JUAN

What, at my HOUSE? My pop would

throw you from the porch to the

curb without asking if you were

homeless. No.

CHUD:

Same. Not... a good idea.

DEACON:

No harm, no foul. (to Liam) What

about you, Cross?

LIAM:

I don't want to buy any of your

porn.

DEACON:

No, no. Your place. Five minutes,

we're in and out.

LIAM:

That's not happening.

DEACON:

Five dollars.

17.

LIAM:

No.

D'JUAN

I got five on it, too. Come on.

LIAM:

I said NO.

.

D'JUAN

Liam. Consider this...

Chud leans over, taking the DVD from Deacon; he holds it up,

illustratively.

D'JUAN

... part of our education.

Liam shoves the DVD away, as the classroom door opens. It's

Mr. Combs:
in his hands is a coffee mug, along with a small

CADDY containing four cups of watery orange juice.

MR. COMBS

Alright, I know I shouldn't be

doing this, but I brought juice...

He looks up, catching the boys in mid-gawk. The porno. Chud's

DVD. Awkward silence, as Liam resumes his slouching.

MR. COMBS

Alright. Is everybody's parental

contact information up to date?

CUT TO:

INT. SEATONVILLE HIGHSCHOOL CAFETERIA

A gooey splat of macaroni is ladled onto a lunch tray, as

Liam stands in line with the lunchtime rush. He pays for his

meal and starts towards a table; CHUD intercepts him in mid-

stride.

18.

CHUD:

Can you believe those guys?

Liam tries to alter course. It's no use. Chud follows, toting

his own tray.

CHUD:

I don't know about you, but if

Combs does call our parents… I'm

blaming everything on that Means

kid. He's a mess in a mop bucket.

Scotty Tyer says he saw him

shooting at cars from an overpass

last spring.

Liam takes a seat, silent. Chud squeezes in next to him.

CHUD:

You want to see something?

LIAM:

No.

Undeterred, Chud unfolds a piece of paper from his pocket and

smoothes it out on the table. It's a crude, gruesome picture

of a mer-monster decapitating a victim; its red hair and

shoes are clearly those of MRS. GILMAN.

CHUD:

I got an entire book of these. And

that isn't counting the ones that

got confiscated.

Liam gives Chud a dead-eyed glare, as a figure dressed in a

grey SMOCK moves behind them.

ANGELINE (OSV)

Not bad. But arterial spray comes

out in dots and dashes, not like a

goddamned fire hose.

19.

Liam and Chud look up to the third party: it's a CAFETERIA

ATTENDANT, a hard-looking woman in her early fifties. Her

nametag reads:
ANGELINE.

CHUD:

Not to sound rude, but what the

hell do you know about arterial

spray? You're the lunch lady.

Angeline nods, considering this.

ANGELINE:

True. Which means that I have the

choice of shitting or spitting in

your food the next time you're in

here, doesn't it?

Angeline continues on her way, leaving Chud's and his

stupefied expression.

CHUD:

Everybody's an a**hole.

LIAM:

She's always like that. Lives

halfway down the block from my

house.

CHUD:

Oh, yeah! Speaking of which… we

never figured out a time to get

together, later… I'm thinking

seven, seven-thirty…

LIAM:

What part of "no" isn't

registering…

CHUD:

I mean, I have to be home for

dinner. That's non-negotiable…

20.

Chud's limited attention span has lapsed; he's watching

D'JUAN as the older boy crosses to a nearby table.

CHUD:

And you're still NOT INVITED,

d*ckhead. Don't act like you can't

hear me.

D'Juan almost lets the comment slide… but doesn't. He stops,

turns, and runs directly into a pair of tall, sneering

teenagers:
JEREMY AND GRANT FLANCH, both sixteen, and

identical twins. The Flanches are flanked by three other

boys, one of which is nursing a sour-looking BRUISE under his

eye.

JEREMY:

A moment, D'Juan?

GRANT:

Ryan tells us that you two had

yourselves a little altercation

between classes this morning.

D'Juan remains unimpressed, squaring up on the other boys and

folding his arms.

D'JUAN

I'd say it was more like… he spoke

ill, and I punched him in the head.

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