Zerophilia Page #2

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8.

LUKE:

From New York. Poli-Sci transfer.

I sort of asked around campus.

MICHELLE:

You did?

LUKE:

You've prob'ly already got a

stalker, huh?

MICHELLE:

No.

Luke stares, awkward.

LUKE:

You heard about Cafe Lunizia?

Italian? They got New York style

pizza. Make you feel at home.

MICHELLE:

You askin' me out?

LUKE:

Oh, well, uh, -definitely!

An SUV pulls up at the gas pump, stuffed with Keenan and

OTHER GUYS. CHAD, exuding supreme self-confidence, calls

over to Luke as he pumps gas.

CHAD:

Hey, Spanky, let's go! Look

forward to kickin' your puck ass.

LUKE:

My ride.

MICHELLE:

Your name's "Spanky?"

LUKE:

No, Puck Ass, but people just call

me Luke. We're beatin' his frat

boy team in street hockey. Pisses

'em off.

MICHELLE:

I'll talk to Max. Tell him to just

replace the gasket.

Luke's BREATHING grows HEAVIER.

9.

LUKE:

Thanks. So, what do you think?

I'll just sit there while you eat.

I won't even talk.

MICHELLE:

Look, I just split up with this

total amoeba.

LUKE:

Oh, I'm a paramecium. That's way

more evolved. I'm practically pond

scum.

MICHELLE:

Maybe I'll give you a call when the

truck's ready.

LUKE:

Great. You mean to go out, right?

Michelle smiles, and walks out through the squeaky door at

the back. Keenan approaches.

KEENAN:

(a whisper)

Whoa. That was her! Jesus, you're

sweatin' like crazy.

Luke sits, nods 'yes,' wipes BEADS of SWEAT from his brow.

LUKE:

We're goin' out.

Keenan gives him a high-five. Luke smiles, catching his

breath.

INT. LUKE & KEENAN'S PLACE

A small, run-down house. Hockey gear, dirty laundry and

Keenan are strewn across the garage-sale sofa. He munches a

burrito while watching the game.

LUKE (O.S.)

KEENAN! COME HERE, QUICK!!!

Keenan leaps up.

KEENAN:

WHAT?!

He races down the hall, sliding on the linoleum.

10.

BATHROOM:

Luke, a towel around his waist, stares at himself in the

mirror, horrified.

LUKE:

Look! My chest!

Keenan looks, clueless, a little uncomfortable now.

KEENAN:

Yeah?

LUKE:

I had hair. Come on! Not a lot,

but you've seen me -some- right?

KEENAN:

Okay, I don't know. So?

LUKE:

Well, where'd it go?

Keenan takes a bite of the burrito in his hand, now mashed.

KEENAN:

I really thought you gettin' laid

was gonna' help. What is it with

you, man? I mean, you're smarter

than me, you're better lookin' than

me.

LUKE:

I am not.

KEENAN:

I know. But I'm just sayin', you

can get any girl you want.

LUKE:

Easy for you, you've got Janine.

KEENAN:

I'm still workin' on my GED. How

long you think Brainiac's gonna'

wanna' hang with that?

LUKE:

She worships you.

11.

KEENAN:

Man, I'm gonna' be that wild fling

she had with the local dude from

the bike shop. "God, what was his

name?"

LUKE:

You're crazy.

Keenan gives him a look of "I'm crazy?"

KEENAN:

You're gonna' have a great time

with her tonight. Just be

yourself. ...Mostly.

EXT. CAFE LUNIZIA - NIGHT

Cheap elegance. Luke and Michelle dine on the patio, strung

with far too many white lights.

MICHELLE:

I caught him with my best friend.

Former. Such a cliche'.

LUKE:

Sorry.

MICHELLE:

Winthrop Hawkins. "Hawk." From

this Park Avenue family. He'd know

what kind of mushrooms those are,

what the best wine is.

LUKE:

The best wine is beer.

MICHELLE:

I'm such a moron.

LUKE:

You're not.

MICHELLE:

No, I am. I have incontrovertible

proof.

She kicks off her shoe and sticks her bare foot on the table,

a TATTOO of a GREEN BIRD on her ankle.

12.

MICHELLE (CONT'D)

It's a hawk. Get it? "Hawkins?"

See, you're smirking!

LUKE:

I'm not.

MICHELLE:

And it's GREEN! That's the one

color tattoo they can't REMOVE!

LUKE:

Oh. Bummer.

MICHELLE:

I'm considering a prosthetic foot.

She smiles.

They sip from their glasses and drink each other in.

Luke contemplates a kiss,...

but his breathing grows shallow, he GASPS.

MICHELLE (CONT'D)

What's the matter?

LUKE:

Nothin'. Maybe just kind a' hot

out here. You want moron? When my

dad died, -it's okay, I was nine.

I barely knew what was goin' on-

But I thought the tombstone was

really sad looking, so I painted

smiley faces and fish all over it.

MICHELLE:

That's sweet.

LUKE:

Yeah, I'm sure dad would've loved

that.

His face REDDENS. Overheated, Luke tugs at his shirt,

brushes SWEAT from his brow.

MICHELLE:

So, what do you think makes a good

relationship?

13.

LUKE:

For real? I don't know.

Friendship. Great sex. Knowing

you want to be there even when it

gets scary or bloody.

MICHELLE:

Whoa. Where'd that come from?

LUKE:

Sorry.

MICHELLE:

No, it's just not the usual guy

thing. ...You're great, you know?

Luke puts his hand on his chest, FEELS something.

He stands, puts on his jacket.

LUKE:

Will you excuse me a sec'?

NEAR THE KITCHEN

HYPER-VENTILATING, his arms CLUTCHING HIS CHEST,

BEADS OF SWEAT on his forehead,

Luke checks the Men's Room door: LOCKED.

He ducks out the service entrance.

EXT. PARKING LOT

By the dumpster, Luke reaches behind his head, WHIPS off his

jacket and shirt, and looks down...

His eyes GO WIDE.

LUKE:

-AAH!

On his chest:
FEMALE BREASTS.

Two WAITERS come outside for a smoke.

FIRST WAITER:

Table twenty-nine. Like to bring

her the cannoli special.

14.

Luke peers over the dumpster, down at his breasts, with a

HIGH FEVER, and PASSES OUT, slumping to the ground.

BEHIND THE DUMPSTER - LATE NIGHT

Luke's eyes open, dilated, disoriented. He's lying on the

ground, shirtless among bits of garbage.

He watches bleary-eyed, as a MOUSE peers at him from inside

an empty milk carton. The mouse runs over and sniffs at a

canteloupe, which triggers Luke's memory:

He GRABS his chest, relieved to find it's back to normal.

He stands, dizzy, surveying the dark, locked restaurant, and

staggers across the deserted parking lot toward his truck.

EXT. WOODED HIGHWAY - LATE NIGHT

Luke's Semi THUNDERS along.

INSIDE THE CAB:

Luke stares out in shock.

He hears HEAVY BREATHING, MOANS, VOICES.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)

Oh yes! Don't stop!

He looks around for the source of the sounds, glances over.

RIGHT SIDE VIEW MIRROR

in it's reflection a leering male, stripped to the waist.

MALE VOICE (O.S.)

Lie down for me, baby!

The HEAD LAMPS of an oncoming car FLASH at him.

As he glances out the driver-side window, MUSIC BLARES from

the passing car.

INSIDE THE CAR:

A glimpse of what might be an ORGY of BODIES intertwined.

The FEMALE DRIVER - GRINS MANIACALLY UP at Luke as the CAR

HORN SCREAMS by.

Luke CAREENS to one side, glancing at the truck's

15.

LEFT SIDE VIEW MIRROR

The car recedes in the distance, but the Female Driver

appears CLOSE in the mirror's reflection, LEERING. She LICKS

THE MIRROR from the inside, and disappears.

THROUGH THE TRUCK WINDSHIELD

Luke stares out, EYES GLAZED.

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