FADE IN:

INT. ROGER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

Five men sit around a poker table in an empty garage.  Smoke fills the air.  It's a jovial atmosphere.  Around the table are seated ROGER STAUBACH, MAX BOLLINGER, MADDOX SPIVEY, WILL CHAPPELLE and BENJI STEWART.  Max is gesturing with his arms while he talks loudly.  He's a natural-born performer.  The other men observe, as the TV and radio provide upbeat background noise.

MAX

That's what I'm talking about man!  That's the way the world is split!

MADDOX

You are a simple son-of-a-bitch, you know that?

Maddox sucks on his cigar.  He is a large man with a subdued but intimidating presence.  He talks with the same authority.

ROGER

Hey, I hear you.

MADDOX

Shut up.

BENJI

Hey, hey.  Whoa.  I think this is an arguement we need to hear out.

WILL

Yeah, can't let Mr. Downer kill every coversation we have.

MADDOX

Ey.  Look at this.

Maddox stares at Bruce, sticks up his middle finger, then sucks on it.  Bruce recoils.  They all laugh.

BENJI

Yeah, that's about the length of it, I think.

MAX

But no denying it.  Just think of it.  You have certain kinds of people, most of them opposite, man.  White meat. Dark meat. Godfather part one.  Godfather part two.  Sonny.  Cher.  White bread. Wheat bread. 

BENJI

Fuck it, what if I like muffins?

WILL

Damn right.

MADDOX

You know you're just naming off things in two.  Then you say the world is split in two like the two things you just mentioned.

ROGER

Hey, let the man finish.

MAX

Right. Thank you. I am saying that.  But I'm saying that 'specially in this case.

MAX (CONT'D)

(hand gestures)

Superman.  Batman.

Silence.  Beat.

MAX (CONT'D)

See.  Ya'll silent.  I'm right!

(cackles)

Ha-HA!  Right as hell.

ROGER

Ok, I take it back, that was a stupid analogy.

BENJI

Is that even an analogy?

MAX

Fuck that shit, you know it's true.

WILL

Hell, I like both of them.

MADDOX

I don't read cartoons.

MAX

Hey, they're comic books, man!

(beat)

And it is quality literature.

MADDOX

It's faggot fodder that's what it is.

BENJI

I dunno.  I kind of am feeling what Max is saying.

MAX

See?  See?  I'm right.

Max hushes the men.

MAX (CONT'D)

I'm not saying you can't like Batman and Superman at the same time.  I'm saying you always like one more than the other.  And you can tell a lot about a person from who they like more.

WILL

Ok, ok.  Superman?

Maddox and Benji raise their hands.

WILL (CONT'D)

Batman?

Max and Roger raise their hands.

MAX

Awww, fuck you pussies.

MADDOX

Superman can beat Batman to a pulp, that's all I know.  He can fly at the speed of light, fer chrissakes.

ROGER

Batman's smarter than to let some alien bullet train him.  He's got kryptonite ready.  Always.

MADDOX

Superman can fly!

MAX

Batman's rich, biotch!  He can buy a million planes!

BENJI

I don't know, it ain't that simple.

MAX

Hell yes.  Simplicity and Superman go together.  He's a square, all-american white boy in a red cape.

BENJI

Hey, Will's the deciding vote.

WILL

I ain't decided yet.  I'm going to let ya'll argue it out.

MAX

Well, fuck it.  I was on my high school debate team, I'm going to fuck ya'll UP!

ROGER

Imma let him talk for me.

BENJI

What the fuck, we've been sitting on the same hand for 15 fucking minutes with this guy talking superheroes!

MAX

Don't matter, I don't have shit.

MADDOX

Full house.

WILL

Goddamn, I just got trips.  Max, deal.

Maddox takes all the chips in the middle.

MADDOX

I need another drink.

Maddox walks out of the scene.  Max shuffles the cards as he talks.

MAX

Batman is better because he's more real.  Motherfucka keeps it real.  Life ain't about a child of destiny coming to some alien world he don't know, eating corn straight from the fields with some white, idealistic Midwestern folk.  Real life doesn't work like it does for Superman, marrying the woman he loves and still getting to get his superhero on.

Maddox comes back and takes a seat.

MAX (CONT'D)

Life is about grit.  It's about guilt and fear.  It's about seeing your parents shot in an alleyway, then going BACK to that alleyway in your mind night after night just to deal with the pain.  It's about being lonely in a cave with nothing but a bunch of rabies-infested bats.

The men are silent.

BENJI

Wow, man.  That totally changed my life's mission. 

(beat)

Now my life's goal is to get you counseling.

The men go back to laughing.

WILL

Well then what does that have to do with the world being split up like that?

MAX

Ah, ok, ok, ok.  Observe. 

(beat)

Who here has a girlfriend or is married?

Maddox and Benji raise their hands.

MAX (CONT'D)

Who here is single?

Max and Roger raise their hands.

MAX (CONT'D)

Who here likes white bread?

Maddox and Benji raise their hands and roll their eyes.

MAX (CONT'D)

And Roger and I love the wheat bread.  Who here believes in welfare?

MADDOX

What?

MAX

People who like Superman believe in welfare.

MADDOX

Get the fuck outta here.

MAX

People are good, they just need a helping hand, right? Superman.  I, on the other hand, think like Batman.  Motherfucka's are evil and like to steal money with welfare.  See?  I win, because Batman is right.  The fuck is your argument for some four-eyed bitch?

BENJI

Hey, Clark Kent has the glasses, that's a totally different story.

MADDOX

My arguement is that Superman can beat Batman to a pulp.

ROGER

Fine.  We agree to disagree.

MADDOX

My argument is Max is too high to be talking any philosophy shit.

MAX

Fuck, nigga, reefer helps me think.

MADDOX

Know what that drug shit does to you?  Fucks up your mind.  Makes it empty.

WILL

Oh yeah, speaking of drugs, Porter's lined up for the pick-up next week.

MADDOX

Yeah, I know.  Right, Roger?

Maddox eyes Roger, who returns his stare for just a second.  Beat.

ROGER

Right.

Maddox keeps his eyes on Roger.

MADDOX

How were the races, this weekend, Roger?

ROGER

What?

MADDOX

The races.  How were they?

The men go silent.  Beat.  Maddox reaches into his pants and takes out a 9 mm handgun.  He BLASTS Roger in the head with it.  The men jump back, throwing their money, chips and cards all over the place.

MAX

FUCK!!!!

BENJI

Oh, God.  Jesus.

WILL

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!

The men keep yelling in surprise.  They take another look at Roger's corpse, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.  They quiet down.  Maddox seats himself again and puffs on his cigar.

WILL (CONT'D)

What the FUCK was THAT?!

MADDOX

He had it coming.

WILL

He had it coming?  He had it coming?  What are you, fucking INSANE?!

MAX

(crying)

I can't handle this shit, man.  This shit is fucked up.

BENJI

It's Roger, man.  We've known him for 10 years.

MADDOX

Ten years, and in the end we don't count for shit to him.

WILL

You're a fucking madman.  Ten years, and you just off him like that.  Without asking us?

MADDOX

I didn't have to ask.  You all wanted it.

Will shifts his weight and stares at Maddox, who keeps puffing away.

WILL

We didn't want this.

MADDOX

No use in arguing if you did, cause the deed's done now.  So, end of discussion.

WILL

This is not the end of this di-

MADDOX

What you want to kill me now?  Is that it?

Beat.  Will and the group say nothing.

MADDOX (CONT'D)

(nodding)

Right.  Right.  So let's leave it at that.

Maddox puts out his cigar, and SPRINGS out of his chair, SLAMMING his hands on the table like a tantrum-prone kid.

MADDOX (CONT'D)

HE HAD IT FUCKING COMING!  END OF STORY!  NOW LET'S DIG HIS FUCKING HOLE!

EXT. ROGER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

The four men dig feverishly on the backyard lawn.  Max is still crying.

MADDOX

Shut the fuck up, Max.

MAX

Daymn, mothafucka, why the fuck am I digging this hole?  You're Mr.-Desert Storm-flashback!  You should be the only one digging this piece of shit!

BENJI

Man, let's just finish this and get the fuck out of here.

TOMMY, Roger's hulking Siberian Husky, sniffs at Roger's body, which is wrapped like a mummy in assorted cloths.

WILL

What are we going to do about the dog?

MADDOX

What?

WILL

Roger can't take care of the dog.  What are we going to do, let it sit in the house and starve to death?

MAX

What are we, fucking Petsmart over here?

MADDOX

You take the dog, you want to talk about it so much.

WILL

It was a simple question, man.

MAX

Ain't nothing simple no more.

CUT TO:

EXT. ROGER'S HOUSE -- NIGHT

With his shovel, Will pats the last square of dirt on Roger's makeshift grave.  He sticks the shovel in the ground and sits on the handle.  He lights a cigarette, puffs smoke out, and pets Tommy.

Will looks off into the suburban distance.

WILL (V.O.)

Max was a good time, but people didn't respect him.  I think it was the drug thing.  But he was right.  A lot of what he said was right.  Life isn't simple.  It's dodging bullets.

(beat)

Until the lucky one finds you.

CREDITS ROLL

FADE IN:

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- DAY

Jimi Hendrix's guitar wails "Voodoo Child" in the background on a CD player.  WALLY RICKMAN (24), a whispy twig of a kid, sits on a bed, the only thing in the room besides the radio.  He tethers a his bicep with a rubber hose, and pulls the end tight with his teeth. He breathes slowly. 

Wally holds up a small syringe and flicks it with his finger.

EXT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY

Hendrix keeps on playing. The warehouse is a two-story structure with aged panels of wood, colored all kinds of brown.  The place a throng of similiar industrial buildings, most of them rusting and unkept. 

A green Ford Taurus FLIES down the one-lane road and SKIDS to a stop in front of the warehouse. Out of the driver's seat steps MARTY CLINGMAN (27), an imposing figure with leery eyes.  He SLAMS the door and marches in strides, arms swinging at his side, toward the warehouse.

MALCOLM PEPPER (25) sits in the passenger seat of the car.  He is a clean one, with wide eyes and a full face.  Mal puts a cigarette in his mouth. He lets go a heavy breath and lights the cigarette.  He glances at Marty storming to the warehouse. Beat. Mal exhales and gets out of the car.

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- DAY

The needle slides slowly into Wally's skin.  His finger nervously taps the injection tab.

INT. WAREHOUSE -- DAY

Marty KICKS the door open.  He continues striding up the stairs to a catwalk.  Mal follows. The two come to another door at the end of the walk.

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- DAY

The door BLOWS open.  Marty and Mal come in as Wally is about to inject.

MARTY

Fucking cocksucker...

Marty CHARGES Wally.  He hits Wally like a barge, and sends him flying off the bed and into the wall.  Marty starts to beat Wally savagely with his fists.

MARTY (CONT'D)

FUCKING STUPID BASTARD!  YOU STUPID BASTARD!

Wally holds up his hands wearily.  His face is continually POUNDED by Marty's heavy fists.  Streams of blood squirt from from Wally's mouth and nose with the punches.  Mal winces in the background.  Marty slows down, huffing like an animal.  Wally is crying and whimpering some gibberish.

Mal stands up, takes the radio and SLAMS it down on Wally's head.  The Hendrix stops.

P.O.V. WALLY -- NIGHT

His eyes open slowly.  The room is dark, except for the moonlight shining in from the window.  Marty and Mal are seated in two fold-out chairs across the room.  They're smoking, with the puffy clouds outlining their heads in the moonlight.

MAL

He's a stupid kid.

MARTY

That's what we always say.  I'll tell you what -- I'm tired of saying that.

MAL

Fuck.

(beat)

What do we do now?

Wally grunts.  He looks to his hands, which are tied with blankets to the bedpost.  He pulls on them and grunts some more.  Marty gets up from out of his chair.

MARTY

 Motherfuck-

Marty stomps at Wally and brings his fist to his face.  With a loud CRUNCH, the screen goes black.

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- NIGHT

Wally opens his eyes wearily.  Marty and Mal are seated in front of him.  He is still tied up.

WALLY

Guys.  Let me go.

MARTY

No.

MAL

Not until we figure out what we're going to do.

WALLY

Do with me?

MAL

No, you fucking idiot.  What to do about this.

MARTY

We're getting the fuck out of here, that's what we're doing.

WALLY

Wh-what does that have to do with me being tied up?

MARTY

Nothing, you half-a-fag.  You're not in a position to say anything so shut the fuck up.

MAL

We need to find a place to go.  Lie low.

MARTY

We have no place.  They'll find us.  Someone will, anyway.

WALLY

(sobbing)

D-don't, guys.  C'mon, please.

MARTY

You're out of control, Wally.  Fucking unbelievable.

MAL

C'mon.  Let's let him out of the ropes.

MARTY

No.

Wally THRASHES at Marty, but can't reach him with the ropes tied to his hands.

WALLY

(screeching)

Get me the FUCK out of this!

MARTY

What?  Want another hit, you fucking junk-o?  You want this, huh?  Huh?

Marty takes the syringe out of his jacket pocket.  He dangles it in front of Wally, and sets it down a foot away from Wally.

MARTY (CONT'D)

You want it, don't you?

Wally pulls hard.  The bed pulls along, scraping on the ground, but Wally can only move it a few inches.  He STRAINS harder, but the bed stays put.  Wally collapses, then JERKS at his bedsheet handcuffs crying.  Mal paces in the back of the room.

MAL

Jesus, Marty.  What're you doing?

WALLY

(whimpering)

Give it to me, man.  C'mon, please.  I've been clean for two months now.  Just give it to me.  I need it.  I'm sorry, but do I need it.  Don't be like that, man.  Why you gonna go and do that?  We're friends, man.

Wally RUNS at Marty again.

WALLY (CONT'D)

JESUS JUST GIVE IT TO ME!  I FUCKING NEED IT!

MARTY

FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

They both start to SCREAM, and Wally keeps pulling.  Marty taunts Wally, bobbing closer and farther from him.

MARTY (CONT'D)

12-step program you fucking piece of shit.  12-steps in one hour.  That's what I'll give you.

WALLY

Give me my needle.  It's mine.  Give it to me!

MARTY

You fucking shit.  We could have done it.  You had to slip because of this fucking junk you put into your FUCKING VEINS!

WALLY

GIVE IT TO ME!

MARTY

I was fine with it.  I was.

WALLY

Don't lie.  You hated me.  Everyone did.  You just danced around it, because you needed me.  You liked me clinging to you.  You all did.

MARTY

Always talking deep, trying to play your fucking sad song over and over again.

WALLY

Give it to me.  You don't know what it's like, now give it to me.

MARTY

Oh, sob story.  Boo-hoo.  Now we have to think of an out in a few hours or we're FUCKING DEAD!

WALLY

You dug your own fucking hole.

MARTY

YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!

WALLY

IT WAS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN!  IT WASN'T!  YOU KNEW THAT!  NOW GIVE IT TO ME! 

MARTY

I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING!

Marty pulls a gun out of his pocket and points it at Wally.  Mal's eyes go wide; he rushes toward Marty.

EXT. WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT

Three pops sound from the house, and the window flash.

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- NIGHT

Mal scuffles with Marty.  The gun drops onto the ground, and they let go of each other.  Mal looks at Wally, who is wheezing.  Two blotches of red seep through the lower part of his shirt.  Wally stares back in disbelief.

MAL

Oh, fuck.

Wally starts to SPASM and SCREAM.  Mal slides on his knees to Wally and holds his head in confusion.  Then he tries to hold down Wally, who is FLAILING and screaming some more.

MARTY

Shhhh!  Goddammit!  Shut up!

Wally grits his teeth and shuts his eyes.  The screams get higher pitched.

MARTY (CONT'D)

Mal!  Shut him the fuck up!  Jesus!  Fuck!

MAL

Oh god.  Oh god.  Oh god.

Mal fumbles in his pocket and finds a roll of scotch tape.  He twists it around Wally's bobbing head dozens of times.  Wally is moving slower and moaning through the tape.  Mal cradles his head with his hand.  The room goes quiet.

Beat.

Marty throws the gun at the wall and punches it hard.  He shuts his eyes, puts both palms on the wall and breathes.

MARTY

Fuck.

MAL

Jesus.  He's still freaking out!  What the fuck, let's get him to a fucking hospital.

Marty stands still.  Mal looks at his back. 

Beat.

MAL (CONT'D)

I said let's get him to a hospital, Marty.

MARTY

No.

MAL

Jesus, what the fuck are we going to do, then?  We're not fucking surgeons.

MARTY

No, we're not.

MAL

Well, what the fuck are we going to do?

Marty turns around, picks up his gun and cocks it.

MARTY

I'm going outside.  You have five minutes max to say your goodbye.  If you're not out with me in five, I'm coming back in here to do you both.

Mal pauses.  He looks at Marty, then the gun.  

MAL

We're going to fucking leave him here?

MARTY

Yeah, we are.

MAL

This-this is Wally, here.  He's our friend.

Marty eyes Mal.

MARTY

Five minutes.

Marty leaves.

MAL

Jesus.

Mal's hand slips onto Wally's midsection, which has become a pool of blood.

MAL (CONT'D)

Jesus, Wally.  Oh, Jesus.  I'm sorry.

Wally, groggy from the blood loss, slides from side-to-side.  He moans, and stops, staring at the syringe on the ground.  He trades looks with Mal.  Beat.

MAL (CONT'D)

Alright.  I'll do it.  Alright, man.

Mal reaches into Wally's pocket and takes out a zip-case.  He pulls out a bag full of powder, syringes, a spoon and a lighter.  He melts the powder in the spoon.  Wally's half-opened eyes stare at the spoon.  Mal gets the rest of it done, and takes three syringes full of fluid.  One at a time, he pokes them all into Wally's arm.  Wally's head starts to roll around.  His eyes glaze and close even more.

Mal stares at the ground.  Beat.

Wally's body goes limp, but his head is still bobbing.  Mal takes off the loads of tape from Wally's mouth.  Wally smiles.

WALLY

It doesn't hurt anymore.

MAL

Your stomach?

WALLY

Everything.  Everything doesn't hurt anymore.

(pause)

I'm sorry.

MAL

Shut up. 

Tears stream down from Wally's face, but his eyes are fixed on the wall.  Mal sniffs, but holds it back.  Beat.

WALLY

I'm no fucking good.  I-I was so tired.  I've always been tired.  Life is so hard.  It's hard.  I make it hard, but it's hard.

MAL

Shut up.  Enough of that.  This just went wrong.  Don't think about it.  Just don't think about it and--

Mal holds his head.

MAL (CONT'D)

Jesus.  Jesus.

WALLY

I-I couldn't do it.  I couldn't do it, anymore.   I-I c-couldn't.  Just couldn't.

MAL

Don't.  Not now.  You're dying.  Think something happy for once in your fucking life, you miserable--

Mal stumbles with his words.

MAL (CONT'D)

--assface.

Wally chuckles.  Mal sobs, but wipes the tears from his eyes.  Mal smiles.  Beat.

WALLY

You knew this was going to happen someday.  You did, didn't you?

Wally coughs, and blood drips from the edge of his mouth.

WALLY (CONT'D)

You did, didn't you?  All my life, I was made for this.  You always knew I was going to go out some sad way, on the dirty floor of some shithole.  I was made for this. 

(beat)

I thought I was going to die in a blaze of glory, fighting a cause or for love or purpose.  I promised myself that.  But I'm going to be yesterday's news.  The scary tale parents tell their kids when they talk about fucking up in life. The post-mortem pathetic, sad story for D.A.R.E.  I didn't think that was going to be it, but you knew. You did, didn't you?

Mal wipes his eyes some more, and nods.

MAL

Marty said five minutes.

Wally shifts his weight, but doesn't stop staring at the wall.  His pupils are huge.

WALLY

Please, Mal.  I'm close.  Just--Just stay.  Just for a few minutes.  Give me that.

MAL

Haven't I given you enough?

WALLY

Just this one last thing.  I'm sorry, man.  Don't make me do this alone.  Please.  Don't do this.

Mal doesn't look Wally in the eye.

MAL

I'm sorry.

WALLY

I know.  Don't be.  You have to do what you have to do.  I'm dead already.

Mal gets up and goes to the door.

WALLY (CONT'D)

(quickly)

You said you'd always be there for me.

Mal stops.  He clutches the door knob.  Beat.

WALLY (CONT'D)

You said it.

(chuckles)

Remember that?  You said you meant it.  Does that make me right, now?

(pause)

I'm asking for another minute.

Mal bites his lip, and lets the tears run down his face. 

Beat.

He opens the door and walks out.  Wally keeps staring at the wall.  His chest expands and contracts slower and slower.

WALLY (CONT'D)

(groggily)

Everyone.  Everyone has a limit.

Wally moves slower.  He stops moving and his eyes are fixed on the wall.  His chest keeps going.

EXT. WAREHOUSE -- NIGHT

Mal puts his hands in his jacket and puffs on another cigarette.  He looks at Marty.  Beat.  They both get into the car.

INT. WAREHOUSE ROOM -- NIGHT

Wally's chest goes slower.

WALLY

 (quietly and calmly)

I want a fresh start.  A fresh start.  All I want.  That's it.  Can I have that?  Please?  Just a fresh start.

Beat.  Wally scrawls around like a blind man on the dirty floor.

Wally's chest stops.  His eyes don't close, but the pupils drop.  We see him lifeless in puddles of blood and tied to the bed.  He surrounded by the syringes and bullet casings.