JB’S CHALLENGE

by

Dominador “Domi” Tomate

WGA Registration Number
1043679	1519 Dover St.
Delano, CA 93215
(661) 342-5222
rodani@aol.com	

FADE IN:

ROLL CREDITS:

MONTAGE:

1.	Unidentified man secures a heavy door onto a door jam.

2.	JAMIE “JB” BARON by himself at a bar ‘n grill, orders lunch with a beer.

3.	Unidentified man installs sink to a wall and checks water flow.

4.	JB orders a second bottle of beer with his lunch.

5.	Unidentified man attaches a heavy bag to a ceiling hook.  He slams a couple hard hits testing its firmness.

6.	JB orders a third bottle of beer with his lunch.

7.	Unidentified man polishes cement floor with a burnisher.

8.	JB talks with a customer who holds her distance showing her offense to his intoxicated demeanor and smell.  Boss, FRANK MENDEZ, observes from a distance and shelves his head in disapproval.

9.	Unidentified man hangs a picture on a wall.  It shows JB in karate uniform wearing a blackbelt.  Underneath is inscribed:  “1989 World Champion.”
10.	
EXT. FURNITURE MART – DAY

Established shot of an older part of the city, a strip mall badly in need of a paint job crowded with pedestrian traffic consisting of immigrant Hispanics and tough looking teenagers.

INT. FURNITURE MART

A middle-aged man is seen lining up furniture from the front of the store into an aisle near the front entrance.  JAIME “JB” BARON, still fit for a 50-year-old man, tackles the chore with ease.  

Once done, he walks to the heavy framed glass doors to lock up for the day.

Owner FRANK MENDEZ SHOUTS from the back office.

		FRANK
	JB.  Got a second?

		JB
	Just locking up.

		FRANK
Get over here as soon as you’re
done.

		JB
	Be right there.

INT. FRANK’S OFFICE

Frank sits behind his desk.  Piles of invoice stack mountain high on one side, an empty “IN BASKET” on the other.  He’s tired, frazzled, and appears flustered..  

		FRANK
	Sit down.

		JB
	What’s up?

Frank slings an envelope.  It slides to a stop an inch from the desk’s edge.

		FRANK
	Your last check.  Got to let you go.

		JB
	What?

		FRANK
	You’ve been coming to work
	drunk and the customer’s complaining
	about the way you smell.

		JB
	What do you mean the way I
	smell?  How do I smell like?

		FRANK
	Like a case of warm Budwiser.

		JB
	Bullshit.

		FRANK
	I’m serious.

		JB
	Just like that?

		FRANK
	‘Fraid so.

		JB
	How long did you spend thinking
	about this?

		FRANK
	Long enough.

		JB
	You’re a fuck, you know.

		FRANK
And you’re a drunk.  
		
		JB
	And you’re a liar, cheat, and
	a leach who suck people dry for
	your own pleasure.

Frank changes direction.

		FRANK
Listen.  I don’t want to fight with 
you.  

		JB
	Better believe it coz I’ll kick your
	ass.

		FRANK
You’re missing the point.
	(beat)
	I run a respectable business here.  
	Your conduct.  Your, look at you.

JB looks at himself.

		JB
It affects bottom line.  I lose business
	and I can’t afford to.

		JB
	Okay.  I’m sorry.  But, you know,
it don’t end this way.  Not like
this.

		FRANK
	Well, we could do something.  
Something that could make things right.

Uncomfortable silence.

		JB
	Really?  What?

		FRANK
	Well you could come with me to
	church.  We have a prayer meeting
	tonight and you and I…

JB shoots a hand up.

		JB
	What?  You want me to do what?

		FRANK
	Church.  

JB begins to pace back and forth thinking about what Frank said.

		JB
	You want me to go with you to 
church?  With you??  Are my ears plugged?

		FRANK
	C’mon.  It’s not what you think.

		JB
	What I think?  Are you kidding me? 
	Last week, every fucking night, 
you were smoking dope and crank 
snatching pussy from every wetback bitch
	that came along, and then all of a sudden.
		(beat)
you’re a freaking apostle?

He puts his hands down on the desk and leans forward to get his message clearly across.

		JB
	Kiss my ass.  You want me to straighten
	out my act, not drink at lunch?
Ok.  That’s something I can do.
		(beat)
	Well.  At least something that I can 
	work on.
		(refocusing)
	But don’t play God with me.  Of all
	people, not you.

JB looks downward as if he came upon a realization.

		FRANK
	Man, you haven’t given it
	a chance.  Think about it a little.

JB ignores him.

		JB
	And you know what?  Now that I’m thinking
	about it.  You actually fired me.
	ME.  Can you believe that?  How can
	you fire me?  First of all, you don’t
	pay me shit.  I work most of the time
	for free.  I follow you cleaning up your
	shit all the time.  Man, I’m a fucking 
	slave.  How do you fire a fucking slave.
	Explain that?  This is unbelievable. 
	I need a drink.

		FRANK
	See?  See what I mean?

		JB
	Don’t give me that, “see what I
	mean” bullshit because what you
	see, I don’t agree with.  Alright?
	And another thing…

JB’s on a roll and he’s getting ready to lay it hard on Frank.  But, A MAN with a gun suddenly enters, clearly a junkie, thin as a rail, shaking and sniffing as he speaks.

		GUNMAN
	Excuse me.  Hope I’m not bothering
	anything.

		JB
	We’re closed.
		(to Frank)
	Listen you piece of shit…

He trains the weapon shifting nervously back and forth from Frank to JB.

		GUNMAN
	I HAVE A GUN!!!

		JB
	I’m kind of busy.  Can you come
	back at another time?

The gunman pulls back the firing pin creating an all too familiar CLICKING sound.

JB quietly shifts his position to face the gunman.

		JB
	Oh.  So that’s it.  You wanna
	shoot me.  Well fuck.  Put me
	out of my misery.

		FRANK
	Now I know you’re drunk.

The gunman backpedals but keeps the gun trained on JB’s face.

		GUNMAN
	Don’t think I’ll shoot.  I will.

JB glares at him, edging him to pull the trigger.

		JB
	Well?  I’m waiting.  Pull the
	goddamn trigger.

		FRANK
	Yes.  Please pull the trigger.

The gunman wants to say something, but doesn’t.

		JB
	What man?  Speak up.

		FRANK
	What are you doing?

The gunman finally spits (and I literally mean it) the words right out, some of the spittle hitting Frank' face.

		GUNMAN
	Please.  Don’t push me.  
I need money.  Okay? And I need it now.  
	(beat)
So if I have to pull this trigger
	to get it, I will.

JB relaxes and smiles.

		JB
	MONEY?  You want some money?
		(beat)
	Is this what this all about?  
	Well, why didn’t you say so?  
	I know where there’s a whole shit
	load.

		FRANK
	Don’t do this JB.  Don’t do this.

		JB
		(to Frank)
	SHUT UP!!
		(to gunman)
	You see, this rat fuck bastard
	here just shitted on his best
	friend.  ME.  And he’s gonna pay where
	it hurts.  His pocketbook.

		FRANK
	JB!!

He stares at Frank who shuts ups, then he calms down and turns to the robber.

		JB (Cont’d)
	It’s in a safe in the back.  
	My buddy here don’t know
	this, but I have the combination.
	Eh?  Pretty good huh?  Wanna see
	if I can crack open a safe full
	of goodies?

Frank rolls his eyes.

		GUNMAN
	Alright, let’s do it.

		JB
But first, don’t you think we should
tie this son of a bitch up?

		GUNMAN
	Yeah.  Good idea.  Tie him up.

		FRANK
	JB.  What the shit are you doing?

		JB
	No cussing, Christian boy.  Now sit
	in that chair and hands behind the
back.

		FRANK
	You’re gonna ruin me.  Why you
	doing this?

		JB
Because you’re stupid and
	I’m crazy.

JB pulls out a roll of gray duct tape from one of the filing cabinets and ties Frank up as he sits on a chair.

		JB
	Tight enough Frankie boy?

		FRANK
	I’m gonna kill you, you know.

		JB
	Yeah.  Like I’m scared.

He looks at the gunman.

		JB
	Hey killer.  Good enough for you?

		GUNMAN
	Enough with the bullshit.  Where’s
	the safe?

		JB
	Man, I told you.  It’s back there.
	C’mon follow me.  

The gunman hesitates.

		JB
	It’s okay.  You got the gun.  Unless
	of course, you want to shoot me, and
	you’ll have to figure out the safe 
thing yourself.

JB notices that the gunman is starting to become more apprehensive.

		JB
Alright.  Alright.  You’re in the 	driver’s seat here buddy.  

		GUNMAN
	You’re fucking with me man.  I know
	it.  

		JB
	Relax okay?  I’ll open up the safe,
	you take all the money you
	need, and in about 15 minutes
	you’ll be in crack cocaine heaven.

The junkie relaxes.

		JB
	See?  Told you.

JB signals the man to follow him through a door leading to the warehouse.

From Frank’s POV he sees JB first disappear, then the gunman.  

We hear the SOUNDS of several THUDS and a GROAN.

JB walks out with the gun and throws it on the desk.

		JB
	You’re a piece of work man.  I
	thought you were my friend.

JB walks away towards the front door.

Frank is still tied up, but struggles to break free of his bonds.

		FRANK
	Hey.  Aren’t you going to untie me?

		JB
	Sleeping Beauty’s gonna wake up soon.
Either say some prayers or play Houdini.

Frank shoots a glance at the gun on the table, and hears MOANS from the warehouse.

		FRANK
	Don’t do this to me.

		JB
	I didn’t do shit to you.  You
	did this all to yourself.  
		(beat)
	I thought you was my friend.
	We were tight man.  Real tight.

He flips the sign from “OPEN” to “CLOSED” and walks out the door.

		FRANK
	Oh shit, shit, shit.

He struggles fiercely to break free, jumping up and down, creating welts on his wrists.  

The gunman slowly wakes up and attempts to get back on his feet.

Frank struggles but is more determined: It’s now life or death.  Finally parts of the tape tears.

The gunman, weak from the beating, props himself up against the door jam.  

He focuses on the gun left on the table.  

He turns to Frank who is near getting loose.

The gunman takes an unsteady step that sends him back on the floor.  

Using the desk, he pulls himself up only to stare at the barrel end of his once owned weapon.

		FRANK
	Fucking JB.

INT. CHURCH – DAY

JB kneels and prays.  

EXT. PARK

JB has a bag of peanuts and feeds a congregation of pigeons by his feet.

A young girl (5) with a heavy backpack plops next to him as he feeds the birds.

		GIRL
	Can I do that?

JB gives her the bag.

		JB
	You know.  You shouldn’t talk
	to strangers.  I could be
	a very bad man.

		GIRL
	You’re not though.

		JB
	What makes you think so?

		GIRL
	Because you’re my grandpa,
	that’s why.

The girl’s mother, CINDY ROSALES (20’s), helps remove the backpack off her daughter a cute, precocious girl full of life, innocence and unconditional love.

		CINDY
	What are you doing here?  
	Shouldn’t you be at a bar getting
	drunk so mom can yell at you
	tonight?

Cindy, however, is street-wise, sharp witted, and nonsensical. 

		JB
	I don’t have to be drunk for your
mom to yell at me.

		CINDY
	Bet on the horses again?

Cindy admonishes ELENA, her daughter.

		CINDY
	Elena, stop feeding those pigeons.  
They’re nasty.

		ELENA
	But grandpa said it was okay.

		JB
	I did?

Cindy scowls at her dad.

		JB (Cont’d)
	Yeah.  Honey.  Mommie’s right.
	Time to call it quits with the
	feeding.

		ELENA
	Kay, grandpa.

He helps her down and she runs off to the playground.

		JB
	Hey.

The young child stops.

		JB (Cont’d)
	Where’s my kiss?

She turns around and hops in his outstretched arms.  

He hugs her tight and gives her a loving kiss on her cheek and forehead.

		ELENA
	Grandpa, you stink.

He laughs and gently places her down.

		JB
	Get out of here and go play.
	And don’t let me see you not
	having fun, got it?

		ELENA
	‘K.

And she runs off.

		JB
	You did good with that little one.
She’s so much like you when she was
	your age.  Can’t wait till she gets
the age when she drives you nuts
like you did me.

		CINDY
	Can it dad.  I didn’t make you an
	alcoholic.

		JB
	Sure about that?
		(changes subject)
Nice living so close to the park.

She gives up on the argument, knowing, like in the past, all it did is lead to frustration, heartache, and hurt feelings.

		CINDY
	Has its advantages.

She sits next to him.

		CINDY
	What you gonna do?

		JB
	What else?  

		CINDY
	Alcohol is not a comfort.

		JB
	What.  Break tradition?  Baby,
	that wouldn’t be like me, 
	now would it?

		CINDY
	Have dinner with me and Elena
	tonight.

		JB
	Me and Elena?  Where’s Carlos?

		CINDY
	Alaska.  There’s work there.

		JB
		(agreeably)
	Good money.

		CINDY
	He’s like you, in so many ways.
	Couldn’t stand waiting so he’d 
	rather leave his family.  Sometimes,
	I think he did it so he didn’t have
	to hear me bitch.

		JB
	Men work.  That’s what we do.
		(beat)
	That’s what we’re supposed to do.

JB scans the playground and watches his grand daughter playing on the outdoor gym that makes him smile.

INT. FM FURNITURE MART

From inside we see police cars parked outside, the cuffed gunman led into the backseat of one of them.

Beat officer Greg Fogel in his uniform blues sits on a chair and takes notes while interviewing Frank Mendez.

		FRANK
	Can’t believe JB.  That son
	of a bitch almost killed me.

		GREG
	How can he almost killed you when
	he saved your sorry butt.
		(beat)
	Again.
		(beat)
	And again.

		FRANK
	Alright.  I get the point.

		GREG
	Don’t think you get the point.

		FRANK
	Don’t know about that.

		GREG
	You know shit.

		FRANK
	Why you doing this to me?

Greg takes out his notebook and flips the pages.

		GREG
	So let’s summarize.  You
	sent JB packing because he had
	a couple of beers for lunch?

Frank shrugs.

		GREG
	Uh, huh.

		FRANK
	The Lord told me to.

		GREG
	I’m supposed to put that in my
	report?

		FRANK
	Greg.  I’ve learned the errors of my
ways.

		GREG
	Uh, huh.  So.  This guy pulled a 
	gun on you and JB.  And JB from
	what I understand disarmed him
	after tying you up, which was 
	right after you fired him for 
	having a couple beers at lunch
	and for not going to your church.

		FRANK
	Pretty much it.

		GREG
	So let me ask a question.  Is he
fired or what?

		FRANK
	Don’t’ know.  Didn’t get that far
	in the conversation.

		GREG
	So, if he wasn’t here.  Like if
	you fired him yesterday, you’d be
	dead?

		FRANK
	God’s will.

		GREG
	No.  Think it was JB’s…

He chops the air with knife hand strikes.

		GREG (Cont’d)
	Martial arts.

INT. OFFICE – DAY

We watch an unidentified man walk towards his office and shut the door.  

He opens the top drawer of his desk and pulls out a bottle of pills.  

CLOSE UP shows the label:  “Oxycontin.”  

He drops a couple in his hand and pops them into his mouth (all the while, not revealing his face.)

He stands in front of his window and stares outside, and rubs his fists with extremely calloused knuckles.

INT. HOTEL CONFERENCE AREA – DAY

SARAH BARON, (50’s) and professional, walks out of the large conference room where she just attended the initial big sales meeting of the year.

She picks up her cell phone and dials.

EXT. PARK

JB still sits on a park bench, enjoying the day, watching kids play at the playgrounds when his cell phone RINGS.

INTERCUT PHONE DISCUSSION:  JB/SARAH

		JB
	Hello.

		SARAH
	Slumming?

		JB
	Love of my life.  How was the sale’s
	conference?

		SARAH
	Boring, as usual.  Quotas were
	raised another 2 ½.  And we were
	introduced another drug to push.

		JB
	Oh what this time?  Blood
	pressure?  Birth Control?  
Psychotropic?

		SARAH
	Female sex drive enhancement.

		JB
	Come home and let’s try it out.

		SARAH
	You know I can’t do that.

		JB
	What.  Coming home or trying the
drug out.

		SARAH
		(changes subject)
	Cindy sent me a text message.

		JB
	Snitch.

		SARAH
	That’s what daughter’s for.

		JB
	Sprung from your loins.

		SARAH
	Alaska?

		JB
	Nice state.  Cold in the winter.

		SARAH
	No silly.  She thinks you might
	look for work there

		JB
	Dunno yet.

		SARAH
	What about asking your old job 
back at the firm.

		JB
	That I’m afraid is no longer an option.

		SARAH
	What do you mean?

		JB
	Got bought out last month.  They’re 
	headed to Houston.  Part of their
	acquisition consolidation thing.  Too bad,
	huh?

		SARAH
	You can open up the karate school
	again.

		JB
	Nice trick for an over weight, 
out of shape alcoholic.

Sarah gets paged by one of her sales associates.

		SARAH
	Honey.  I’m getting called in.
	I’ll be back tomorrow late morning.
	We can talk about it then.

		JB
	Of course.  What else is there to do?
	You know.  I can hang out with the
	other mojarro’s and wait for a
	patron with a comfortable pick up
	to haul me off to his two bit avocado
	field.

		SARAH
	Stop it Honey.  It’ll work out.  I’m 
	making enough money so you don’t
	have to work if you don’t want
	to.

		JB
	Yeah.  Thanks for reminding me.
		(beat)
	You know Frank was my best friend.
	He was my last hope.

		SARAH
	That’s where you’re wrong.  He’s 
not your best friend, and he’s far
	from being your last hope.  
		(mumbling)
Never cared for him anyway.

		JB
	Jesus Sarah.  He’s your brother.
	
		SARAH
	Doesn’t mean I have to admit it.

		JB
	Alright.  I give up.  Let’s relax
	and finish this day off without
	other disappointments, okay?

		SARAH
	Just don’t get shit faced tonight,
	OKAY?  

		JB
	Love you babe.

		SARAH
	Love you too.

INT. DOJO – NIGHT

We see a man (identity not revealed) dressed in a karate gi and black belt slamming his fist against a makiwara board.  

Each time he makes contact, he grunts (not kia) louder and louder as if to the beat of a metronome.  

SMAK, SMAK, SMAK, his knuckles show the wear of impact, red and swollen, hitting non-stop, relentlessly focusing on a goal, only he’s privy to.

INT. BAR – NIGHT

JB sits hunched on a counter nursing a beer as he ever-so-slightly slurs his words when he talks to his good old buddy, proprietor and bartender, GUSTAVO.  Next to his bottle is an empty shot glass. 

		JB
	Warm the glass up bud.  Special
	day today.  Wife’s doing well. 
I got fired.

		GUSTAVO
	Ain’t it a bitch.

		JB
	Could be worse.  She could’ve gotten
	fired.  Shit, she makes five times
	more than me.  Well, when I was working
at Frankies’.
		(beat)
	You know he’s found the Lord.

		GUSTAVO
	Didn’t know he was lost.

		JB
	Precisely.  How do you lose the Lord.
	He’s everywhere, isn’t he?

		GUSTAVO
	What I was told.

		JB
	That’s what I’m talking about.  He’s
	like having a drink with me.

Raises his glass.

		JB (Cont’d)
	Kompai!!!.

He downs it and chases it with a beer.

		JB
	Five years ago, I was riding
	high on the hog.  What happened
	to me man?

		GUSTAVO
	String of bad luck, that’s all.

		JB
	Bad luck.  You call that bad
	luck?

		GUSTAVO
	You’re too hard on yourself.  
	Remember, family.

		JB
	Damn straight.  Family.  You
	know what.  All the freaking bad
	luck in the world can’t take that
	away from you.  Right?

		GUSTAVO
	Right.

		JB
	Damn straight skippy.
		(beat)
	Y’know Gustavo.  It’s gonna be
	alright.

A voice from nowhere interrupts.

		JASON
	Sensei!

JB and Gustavo turn their heads, JB surprised and somewhat amused.

What they see is JASON WHITE (20’s) a handsome professional.

		JB
	You must be one of my long lost
	students.  Which one are you?

		JASON
	Jason.  Jason White.  You promoted
	me to black belt, way back in
	1988.

		JB
	Of course I remember you, kind
of sort of.

		JASON
	I’ve got my own business now.  Got
	a home.  Several children.

		JB
	I think I’ve taught about 27 
Jason’s.  Which one were you?

		JASON
	I was your best student, of 
	course.

		JB
	Don’t remember.  But I believe
	you.

		JASON
	It was a long time ago.  Did you
	know that when I first took
	your class, I was flunking out
	of school.  I had a self-respect
	problem.  Well, you whipped me
	into shape and forced me to believe
	in myself.  I went off to finish
	college and now I own my own
	business.  It was one
	heck of a crossroad for me, and 
	it was you to thank.  You helped
me make the right choices.

		JB
	Guess I expected too much.  
Impossible goals.

		JASON
	You could be right.  But one thing.
	My whole time learning from
	you, I’ve never seen anyone quit
	your class.  You were too well 
	respected.  Too good of an instructor.

		JB
It was a karate class. Nothing else.

		JASON
I don’t know about that.  We felt
	that if we did everything you said,
	everything you taught us, we’d be okay.  
And you know what?
		(beat)
	Was true.

		JB
	Well then, glad someone learned
somethin’.

		JASON
	I stopped by the old dojo
	to take my kids there, show them
	where their old man learned his
	moves.  Found out that it’s
	not there anymore?  You moved?

		JB
	Shut the place down.  Long story.

		JASON
	You mean no one took over?

		JB
My school.  My decision.

		JASON
	Pity.

		JB
	Hey.  How’s about I treat you to
	a drink.  Gustavo, give the man
	whatever he wants.  Put it on the
tab.

		JASON
	Sorry sensei.  Wife and I are having
	dinner.  Thanks for the offer.

They shake hands. 

		JASON (Cont’d)
	We should get together.  Like you
	to meet my wife, kids.

		JB
	Can count on it.

Jason steps back. bows in respect, and leaves.

		JB
	That was nice.  I like that guy
whoever the heck he is..

		GUSTAVO
	Say whatever you want.  He respects 
	you man.  
		(gets closer)
	That’s powerful.

JB smirks.

		JB
	Mr. G.  Might be true.  But
	right now, I’d like another
stiff one.

		GUSTAVO
	Coming right up.

INT. DINING ROOM – NIGHT

Sarah is dining with ARLENE JONES, a coworker.  

They’re enjoying an after dinner drink and conversation.

		ARLENE
	I’m glad this is over.  Tired of 
meeting after meeting.
	Same thing over and over again.

		SARAH
	Pays bills.

		ARLENE
	Amen to that.  So how’s JB
	doing?

		SARAH
	His best friend fired him for
	drinking.

		ARLENE
	Wow.  Some friend.

		SARAH
	His best friend is also my brother,
	and I’m going to kick his ass
	when I get home.

		ARLENE
	Well don’t hurt your foot.

		SARAH
	My husband has a problem.

		ARLENE
	Rehab?

		SARAH
	Working on it.  JB’s a proud
	man.  He just struggles with it.  I
	love that man to death.  And I
	care about him.  But he’s so
	stubborn.  The harder I try, the
further he digs himself into a
hole.  

		ARLENE
	Sounds like he needs a little
	bit of divine intervention.

		SARAH
	Yeah.  I pray for him.  He doesn’t
	know this, but I do.

EXT. BAR – NIGHT

The bar’s entrance is lit by an overhead fixture that provides enough coverage to swathe an area not much larger than the door itself.  

Everywhere else is dark and shadowy.

The door swings open and JB staggers out, clearly drunk.  

A young couple walks past him hurriedly to avoid contact and he apologies with awkward body language.  

As they disappear around the corner, from his shirt pocket, he pulls out a cigarette and attempts to light it with a plastic lighter that fails to spark until the fifth or sixth try.  

He inhales and blows out a massive white puff of smoke.

He throws lighter away into a nearby garbage can.

And mumbles.

		JB
	Taxi.

He looks left, then right.  The streets are empty.

		JB
	Damn.

He reaches in his pocket for his car keys.  Finds them. Fumbles for the right key.  And aims for the keyhole, missing several times before giving up.

		JB
	Well hell.  I’ll just take a nap till
	this shit wears off.
		(beat)
	Sarah’s gonna kick my ass.

He stumbles to a nearby alley and finds a reasonable place to retire.  

In the most unceremonious manner, he plops on his butt and shuts his eyes.  Seconds later, he’s fast asleep, SNORING and on his side.

FADE TO BLACK:

INT. DARK ROOM – NIGHT

JB’s no longer in an alley but in a dark and stark room, curled up on a bare floor.  

He coughs violently and wakes up in a bathroom where a toilet and sink is nearby.  

Without question, he positions himself above the toilet and throws up.  

Once done, he wipes his mouth and falls back on the cold floor to finish his sleep.

Instinctively, he jumps right up and flushes the toilet.  Then to where he started, he resumes his sleep position.

INT. HOME – DAY

Sarah enters through the front door, towing a large suitcase.  

She leaves it in the hallway and grabs a stack of mail collected on an end table.  

She scans through them quickly before laying them back on the table.

She checks the bedroom, the bathroom and kitchen before finally looking into the garage.  

It’s empty.

		SARAH
	JB.  You here?  Huh.  No car.
	Must be out looking for a job.  
	Cha.  Don’t think so.

She picks up her cell phone and dials.

EXT. CAR

Cell phone sitting on the driver’s side rings several times and stops.

INT. KITCHEN

Sarah snaps her phone off and shut. 

She pauses briefly thinking before dialing another number.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION:  SARAH/CINDY

		CINDY
	Hi.  Mom.

		SARAH
	Seen your dad?

		CINDY
	Yesterday.

		SARAH
	No.  Today.  I mean today.

		CINDY
	No, why?

		SARAH
	Huh.  He’s not here, and the car’s
	gone.
	
		CINDY
	Probably looking for a job.

		SARAH
	Think so?

		CINDY
	Yeah.  He hates staying home,
	doing nothing.

		SARAH
	I’ll put him to work.

		CINDY
	Bet you will.  Just got home?

		SARAH
	About ten minutes ago.

		CINDY
	Let’s have lunch.  You can put it
	on your expense account.

		SARAH
	On the account that you’re broke?

		CINDY
	On the account that you’re my 
	mother, and it’s your job to feed me.

		SARAH
	I see.

		CINDY
	Dad’ll be alright.  He can take care
	of himself.  That you can be sure
	of.

		SARAH
	Yeah.  Guess you’re right.

INT. DARK ROOM

JB finally stirs.  

He sits up and yawns, looking left and right, finding his bearings.  

He finds the toilet and takes a long pee.  

Afterwards, he washes his face and dries his hands by first combing them against his hair and then rubbing against his shirts and pants.

He smacks his mouth and scratches himself.

		JB
	Man, it’s dark here.

He feels around and attempts to negotiate himself through the darkness.

		JB
	Alright.  Where am I at?

His hands finally find what they were looking for:  light switches.

He flips them upward and the room comes to life, so bright that it makes him squint and he has to shade his eyes with his hand.

		JB
	What the?

What he sees is a large room 40’x40’x16’ high, concrete block walls, smooth cement floor, and a solitary heavy punching bag dangling on one of the corner opposite the sink and toilet.

He turns and touches the smooth steel door with a bottom trap access.  

From his position, he notices that it doesn’t have a doorknob, at least from his side.

		JB
	Okay.  What’s going on?

He slaps the door.

		JB
	Hey?  Anybody out there?  Hello?

Pause to hear response.

Silence.

		JB
	The hell is this all about?

He walks along the perimeter walls inspecting for flaws or ways on how he can escape.

He takes a deep breath and yells, this time creating a cold echo.

		JB
	Hey!!!.  ANYBODY HEAR ME????

He walks around the room slapping his hands against the walls and door, trying in vane to grab someone’s, anyone’s attention.

His actions accelerate and exaggerate, until with one final effort, he quits and slides down, his back against the wall until he sits.

		JB
	What the hell did I get myself
	into.
		(beat)
	I know.  I must be dreaming.
	Yeah.  I’m in Toto Land.  Damn
	alcohol’s making me delirious.
	Craz.  I’m going out of my
	freaking mind.  Or shit.  Huh.
	Maybe, I’m dead.  And this is
	hell for me to live in this
	cold claustrophobic room forever.
		(beat)
	Why am I talking to myself?
		(screams)
	SOMEBODY GET ME THE HELL OUT OF
	HERE!!!
		(dejected)
	Some freaking day this turn out to be.

INT. POLICE STATION

Greg Fogel sits in CAPTAIN RICHARD FAIRBANK’s office.

The captain reviews a file and does not look happy.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Must say.  This news comes
	unexpected.  Didn’t realize that
	you were so unhappy.

		GREG
	Not sure unhappy’s the right
	word.  And I’m not sure if
	I can use other choice words,
	like:  Unsatisfied.  Unfulfilled.
	Unmotivated.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Ah, hell.  Greg.  Felt like
	that all of my life.  And I’m
	still here.  That don’t give 
	you no cause to just up and quit.

		GREG
	When did I say I was quitting?

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	It’ll come up next.

		GREG
	I want my chance to be a detective.
	You know that.  We’ve had this
	discussion many times before.  That’s
	why I called this meeting.  To tell
	you it’s time you help me make
	this next step.  For God sakes,
	Richard.  I deserve it.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Glad you feel that way.  Door’s
	always open for you.  May
	not apply to others in the force,
	but dammit, you’re one of our
	best.  Makes my job easy
	with you out there.  Hard to
	find a cop with a head on his
	shoulders.  Y’know that?

		GREG
	Thanks for the vote of confidence.
	But I’m still a beat cop.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	You know what I’m going to do?
	I’m going to brass and see about
	that promotion.

		GREG
	You mean that?

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Damn straight.  
		(beat)
You’re right.  It’s time.

		GREG
	Well.  I wasn’t expecting nothing
	like this.  I was thinking you telling
	me to take an extended vacation.
	See the world out there.  Check
	out my options.  But you know what?
	You take care of me, Rich, I’ll
	take care of you.  Glad we had this
	talk.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Good.  We can get started right
	away.  I’ll send some cold case files
	for you to review.  
		(beat)
	Now, you won’t see the raise
	till the Chief okays it, but I’m
	sure it’ll pass, especially when
	I make the recommendation.

		GREG
	Well then.  Alright.

They shake hands.

INT. DUNGEON

JB is frantic.  He’s running around the room screaming.

		JB
	AAAAHHHHHHHH.

He stops by the door, steps back and slams a sidekick, the hit creates a BOOMING sound.

He waits.  Nothing.

He positions himself once again and slams another sidekick creating another BOOMING sound.

He waits.  Again nothing.

Follow up montage shows him doing this over and over again, resulting the same.

It doesn’t take long before he starts wheezing and quits.

		JB
	Damn.  I’m really out of 
	shape.

He takes one of his shoes off and begins banging it against the door.  

It’s not as loud as his sidekicks, but it makes an annoying-enough racket, certainly to grab someone’s attention.

		JB
	Hey.  Somebody out there?  
	Somebody’s got to be out there!!!
		(beat)
	Shit.  I need a drink.  HELLO?

INT. POLICE PRECINCT

Sarah Baron enters the open precinct where cubicles separate rows of desks and computers.

She stops by the front desk and asks a question.  

She’s pointed toward the right direction.

ON GREG

…who is buried beneath a huge stack of folders.  

He zeros in on one file that takes his full attention.  

Sarah walks quietly and stands by his desk, says nothing, and waits patiently.

Several seconds pass before he realizes that someone is hovering above him.

		GREG
	Oh?  Sarah?  Sarah Baron.  
What are you doing here?

		SARAH
	Please, can I sit down?

Greg stands and pulls a chair up for her.

		GREG
	Of course.  Sit down.  Can I offer
	you coffee?  Water?  

		SARAH
	No.  I’m fine.

		GREG
	There’s a coke machine outside.
	It wouldn’t be any problem for
	me to get you a coke, seven up.
	Anything?

		SARAH
	Greg.  Stop now.  I’m fine.

		GREG
	So?  What are you doing here?

		SARAH
	I need to ask a favor.  And
	I don’t know if it’s right
	right now.

		GREG
	Something wrong?

		SARAH
	JB.  He’s missing.

		GREG
	What do you mean missing?

		SARAH
	He didn’t come home last night.

		GREG
	You’ve called everyone.  Cindy?
	His family, friends?

		SARAH
	Greg.  You’ve known him all
	your life.  He’s an alcoholic.
	But otherwise a sensible and responsible
	man.  I’ve been married to
	him for over 30 years.  And before
	that we we’ve been serious years
	before that.  He’s never, ever
	not come home.  And he’s never
	not called.  Greg.  There’s something
	wrong.  Seriously wrong.

		GREG
	Sarah.  What I’m supposed to tell
	you is that I can’t do anything.
	We must wait at least 24 hours
	before we can file a missing person
	report.

		SARAH
	You have to do something.

		GREG
	But, I can do something personally.
	What are you doing right now?

		SARAH
	I’m trying to find my husband.

		GREG
	Then let’s say you and me take a ride.

INT. DUNGEON

Defeated, JB sits on his butt, back against the wall, shoe on one hand using the heal to keep a beat while he sings the old favorite standard.

		JB
	Know body knows, the trouble
	I’m in.  Nobody knows how bad.
	Knowbody, knows the trouble…

SOUNDS OF LATCHES RELEASING ECHOS in the room, grabbing his attention and curiosity.

He stands quickly and waits by the side of the door, expecting it to open.

		JB
	Alright.  Civilization.

Instead, the bottom trap door opens wide enough for a tray of food and utensils.  

The trays slides through and the door immediately closes.  

It happens so quickly, JB responds too late.  He lunges for the trap door, which by this time is already closed and locked tight. 

LATCHES CLICKING verifies it.

He looks at the tray:  Omlette, hash browns, bacon, sausage, pancakes, orange juice, coffee with cream and sugar on the side.

		JB
	Food.  What a novel idea.

He touches the tray and pulls his hand back, testing it as if it could be rigged to blow up.

Once he feels safe enough, he takes the platter and places it on his lap.  

He takes a bite, and his face shows instant pleasure and gratification.

		JB
	Good!  This is good!
		(yelling)
	COMPLIMENTS TO THE CHEF!!!

LATER

The platter is clean and JB pulls a cigarette from his pocket and searches for the lighter.  

It’s then he remembers throwing it away.

		JB
	Shit.  Threw the lighter away.
		(yelling)
	ANYBODY GOT A LIGHT???
		(beat)
	C’mon.  Give a guy a break.  Shit.

SOUNDS OF A PA SYSTEM AND SPEAKERS TURNING ON.

		VOICE
	Testing.  Testing.  One.  Two
	Three.

JB stands up and investigates the sound’s origins.  He finds speakers behind camouflaged grills.

		JB
	I’ll be damned.

		VOICE
	Mr. Baron.  Hope your accommodations
	were satisfactory.

The VOICE is disguised, sounding like what a computer produces:  sterile, monotone, raspy.

		JB
	Who.  Who are you?  What am
	I doing here?

		VOICE
	Who I am is not important.
	What you’re doing here is.

		JB
	Okay.  Let’s work on question
	number two.  What am I doing here?

		VOICE
	Training, Mr. Baron.  Training.

		JB
	For what?

		VOICE
	The challenge of course.

		JB
	Well.  I’m not sure if I’m
	excited about that answer.
	What challenge are you talking
	about?

		VOICE
	Duel, Mr. Baron.  In two weeks
	you and I will duel to the death.

JB takes about a couple of seconds to register that statement.

		JB
	I’m not sure I heard that right.
	You want to fight me at the
	end of two weeks.  A duel to 
	the death.  Like two men standing,
	one man leaves?

		VOICE
	Precisely.

		JB
		(smiling)
	Oh.  I get it.  This is one of those
	reality t.v. shows.  A camera’s
	pointed at me.  Right?  

He searches around and waits for a response.

		JB
	This is some joke.  I get it.
	Real neat gag.  Got to hand it
	to you.

Uncomfortable pause.

		VOICE
	Make no mistake.  This challenge,
	Mr. Baron, is real.  In two weeks
	either you or I will be dead.

		JB
	This is real stupid you know.

He pounds the door.

		JB
	Let me out of here!!!

		VOICE
	In two weeks, Mr. Baron.

		JB
	Ok then.  You and I will face
	off at the ok corral.  Weapons
of choice?

		VOICE
	There will be no guns.

		JB
	So what then?  Insults?  Harsh
	language?

Pause.

		VOICE
	Skill, warrior spirit, will to survive.

		JB
	You have got to be out of your
	fucking mind.

		VOICE
	You could be right.  But you and I.
We’re skilled martial artists.

		JB
	Jah, well I’m not.  I’m an old, over weight,
	out-of-shape alcoholic.  I’m no match 
for you.

		VOICE
	This is where you’re wrong.  You
	are formidable, dangerous even
	in your condition.

		JB
	How can I say this any more clear:	I.  Ain’t.  Shit.

		VOICE
	No matter.  In two weeks, we
	shall see, won’t we?

		JB
	Why me?

		VOICE
	Because you are a true warrior.

		JB
	You’re wrong.  You’ve got this
all wrong.

Pause.

		VOICE
	Your complete needs will be taken
	care of.  Food three times a day.
	Sink provides filtered water, and
	of course the toilet.

		JB
	Anything else?

		VOICE
	Look around you, Mr. Baron.  You
	are in a dojo.

		JB
	It’s a freakin’ cell!!!

		VOICE
	Good bye for now, Mr. Baron.

		JB
	Hey wait.  One more thing.  You
	think you could add a couple
	of beers with my meals?  Kind
	of thirsty, if you know what
	I mean.

		VOICE
	Alcohol and tobacco will not be
	permitted.  I want to make sure
	you are in perfect health, when
	I defeat you

		JB
	Hey?  What?  No!!!  You have
	no idea what I’ll be going
	through.  You can’t do this
	to me.  You can’t do this to me.

Silence.

		JB
	Come back here.  I need a drink man.  
	I need a drink now.

He falls to his knees, knowing that the worst challenge of his life is just about to begin.

INT. POLICE CAR

Sarah sits pensively and frets.  Greg feels compassion and attempts consolation.

		GREG
	Did I tell you about the “kick
	the can story?”

		SARAH
	No.  I don’t think I’ve heard
	that story.

		GREG
	We were I guess 8, 9 years
	old.  Our block had this empty
	lot where we played games like
	Army, water balloon fight.
	Games young kids played.

		SARAH
	I remember the empty lot, but
	I was younger than you guys
	and mom wouldn’t let me play.

		GREG
	That’s right.  Well we played
	this game called “kick the can”
	It’s like hide and seek, stop and
	go put into one.  The keeper of
	the can had to located the other
	players who were in hiding.  Once
	found, you’d scream out his name
	and jump over the can, thereby
	knocking him out.  The hiding
	player’s goal is to creep close
	enough without getting seen, and
	kick the can when the keeper of the
	can is out of reach, searching for
	victims.

		SARAH
	Sounds like a fun game.

		GREG
	It was, unless you were slow and
	heavy footed, like me.  Usually
	everyone took turns because the
	keeper of the can, no matter what,
	was able to seek and destroy the
	other hiders.  Everyone, except
	slow and heavy feet me.
		(beat)
	Your brother, he was an asshole.
	Wouldn’t give a guy a break.  He
	was quicker than I and always
	kicked that stupid can before I
	can jump over it.  I’d get stuck
	being the keeper of the can for
	a long time.

		SARAH
	My brother was an asshole.

		GREG
	Then one time, when the guys
	teased me, and I was in tears,
	Frankie was last and was tearing
	out to kick the can before I 
	had a chance to jump over it.
	Good old JB tripped Frankie up
	giving me just enough time
	to jump him out.

		SARAH
	My JB did that, huh?

		GREG
	Because JB was the best athlete
	of us all he made it a point
	to give Frankie a dose of his
	own medicine.  Frankie get stuck
	as can keeper all afternoon
	until he screamed uncle.

		SARAH
	That was sweet of you telling
	me that story.

		GREG
	That’s why I know everything’s
	going to be okay.

		SARAH
	I don’t understand.

		GREG
	A guy like that, no matter what,
	is going to come out on top.
	For all of these years, he was
	our protector.  Our guardian
	angel.  I’m sure God will find
	a special way to protect and 
	guard him.

		SARAH
	My heart worries for him.  I
	want him back.

		GREG
	You’ll get him back.  You will.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB walks around the dungeon/dojo.  

Sweat beads on his forehead.  He is trembling, shaking like a leaf on a windy day.  

With withdrawals beginning, his eyes search for ways of how he was going to get through this.

He splashes water on his head and face, drinking by cupping his hands underneath the faucet.

		JB
	I’m gonna die.  

He takes a deep breath and changes his attitude.

		JB (Cont’d)
	C’mon.  Focus.  This isn’t the
	hardest thing you’ve faced
	JB.  Handle it.  HANDLE IT.

EXT. BAR PARKING LOT

Greg’s cruiser stops next to JB’s early model car, a no frills clunker.  

Sarah and Greg exit and make preliminary examinations.

		GREG
	Doesn’t look too bad for the
	wear.  You have a key?  

		SARAH
	Yeah, here.

Greg takes the key and opens the door.  He looks inside and finds nothing abnormal.

They walk to the back and open the trunk.  

They find a toolbox and a golf bag with clubs.

		GREG
	Still plays?

		SARAH
	At least once a month.

		GREG
	Nice clubs.

He shuts the trunk.

As they head for the bar, a homeless man comes into view.

INT. BAR

Gustavo stocks shelves when Greg and Sarah walk in.

		GREG
	What’s going down?

		GUSTAVO
	Makin’ a living.  Makin’ a
	livin’.

		GREG
	Remember Sarah?

		GUSTAVO
	Yeah, JB’s wife.  Frankie’s
	sister?

		SARAH
	Same, unfortunately.

		GUSTAVO
	Unfortunate that you’re JB’s
	wife or Frankie’s sister?

		SARAH
	What do you think?

		GUSTAVO
	Yeah.  Frankie’s a chump.  So
how’s old Jaime boy?  Sleeping it off?

		GREG
	That’s why I’m here.  Didn’t
	come home last night.  Remember
	when he left?

		GUSTAVO
	Closed the place down.  ‘Bout
	1:45.  Even called him a 
	taxi.

		GREG
	Which one?

		GUSTAVO
	Yellow.

		GREG
	Anything else?

		GUSTAVO
	Pretty much that’s it.

		GREG
		(to Sarah)
	I’ll call the taxi company to see if
	there was a pick up.

		SARAH
	Good idea.  Thanks.

		GUSTAVO
	Hey copper.  One for the road?

		GREG
	Look at the uniform.  Look at
the badge.  You nuts?

		GUSTAVO
	Gotta make a living, man.

Sarah walks to Gustavo before they walk out.

		SARAH
	You were the last to probably
	see him before…

She begins to cry.

Greg helps her out, Gustavo not knowing what to say or do.

EXT. BAR PARKING LOT

As Greg and Sarah head for the cruiser the homeless man approaches.

		HOMELESS MAN
	Hey officer.  You looking for
	the guy who owns that car?

		SARAH
	You know where he’s at?

		HOMELESS MAN
	No, not exactly.

He shoots his filthy hand out, palm up.

Sarah pulls out her purse, but Greg signals her off.  He pulls out a $20 bill and hands it over.  

When the homeless man attempts to grab it, Greg rips it in half and gives one half to him and puts the other half in his shirt pocket.

		GREG
	Half now.  Half later.  That is
	if I like what you say.

The homeless man grumbles.  

Wipes his nose with his sleeve and shifts his eyes left to right.

		HOMELESS MAN
	This guy comes out, drunker than
	a skunk.  I was over there.

He points to a corner of the alley where a cardboard shack sits.

		HOMELESS MAN
	He likes talking to himself.
	Couldn’t get the key out of 
	it.  So he plops down not too
	far from me.  Thought he was gonna
	take my box or something.  If
	he tried, I would’ve kicked his
	ass.

		GREG
	Yeah, yeah, tough guy.

		HOMELESS MAN
	Then from nowhere, this big guy
	dressed in a Raiders jacket and
	hood, helps him into a car and 
	drives off.

		GREG
	What kind of car?  Did you get
	a license number?

		HOMELESS MAN
	Barely got the Raiders on the
	jacket.  

		GREG
	Was he black, white, Mexican,
	Asian?

		HOMELESS MAN
	Couldn’t tell.  One thing though.
	The guy was pretty strong.

		GREG
	Why’d you say that?

		HOMELESS MAN
	Raiders man picked homeboy up
	like he was made of nothing.
	Got me scared.  I thought,
	man, what if it was a freak
	who picked up drunks and homeless
	people, chop them up and eat
	them for dinner, or something
	like that.

Greg hears enough as he slaps the other half of the twenty on the homeless man’s hand and promptly escorts Sarah away.

		GREG
	Sorry.  You didn’t have to hear
	that.

The enter the car and drive off.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB is curled up in a fetal position.  His eyes close, body shakes, teeth chatter, and mouth’s dry.  

He gets up and positions himself over the toilet to vomit.  

He heaves and convulses creating WRETCHING SOUNDS, but nothing comes out.  He repeats the procedure several times, which makes us think that blood will begin to spew out.  

He’s in complete agony as his trembling becomes seizure-like, but he does not lose consciousness, meaning that each and every second of this ordeal is personally agonized.  

He attempts to control the physical torment by the curling back into a ball.

Unfortunately, the torture continues and continues…

INT. CELL

JB wakes up suddenly in a cold sweat.  He coughs violently and throws up in the toilet.

After flushing, he notices that the cell door is open.  He examines the situation before making a quick dash to the door.

He peaks through the crack and sees a long corridor.  At the end of the corridor is another door.  He’s revived.

Though still weak, he straightens up, takes a deep breath and with one burst of energy, sprints to apparent freedom.

The 100 feet or so becomes a slow motion exercise but he reaches his destination without a hitch, slamming his body against the door.

It’s dark, but with light enough for him to notice the doorknob.  

He places his hand on it.  

It turns!

EXT. ROAD – NIGHT

JB finds himself on a country road, staggering as he makes his way to safety.

Rain pours hard, making his movements even more labored.

He reaches an intersection.  He doesn’t know where to turn.

He looks left and sees a winding path.

He turns right, and sees the path leading towards a mountain range.

Straight ahead is a dark forest.  He waits and then pushes forward.

As he crosses the intersection, he’s compelled to look behind him.  

What he sees are three obscure individuals in a full sprint.  One carries a baseball bat, the other a chain, and finally the third, a samurai sword.

JB takes the cue to run and hide, but finds himself running in mud, making his movements impossible.

The three obscure individuals, despite the rain and mud are able to make up the distance.

The fighter with the chain catches up first, and swings the chain hitting JB on the leg tripping him.

JB falls flat on his face, but turns quickly so that he faces upwards.  CHAIN MAN sends a killing blow but JB slides to his left allowing the chain to slam hard on the mud.  

JB manages to get back on his feet and avoid a swinging baseball bat that misses his head by inches.

JB sends a sidekick that sends the attacking Chain Man far enough away for him to position himself equidistant away from the three attackers.

Instead of waiting to counter, JB gets on the offensive by attacking Sword Man who thrusts hard for JB’s chest.  JB sidesteps and grabs the attacker’s hand and swerves the blade so that it impales Chain Man.

JB pulls away and disappears in darkness with Bat Man pursuing.

JB heads for the protection in the forest.  Using the dark to his advantage, JB hides behind a large tree.  Bat Man walks slow and steady, ready to attack and defend himself.

Then from nowhere, JB pounces from behind grabbing Bat Man in a full arm bar choke hold.

Bat Man pushes backwards, slamming JB against the tree.

With his bat, Bat Man bangs JB on the arms, sides and head, but JB holds on tight despite the telling blows.

Moments later, Bat Man relents and finally falls limp.

Exhausted, JB pushes away relieved.

But no sooner he’s able to take a deep breath, Sword Man appears from the dark.

JB resigns to his new test by taking the baseball bat in his hands.

		JB
	Who are you?  Are you the
	voice?  Are you?

Sword Man says nothing and raises his weapon above him and attacks.

JB parries the downward slice but the sword reassigns itself in a low sweeping arc forcing him to jump over it.

While in flight, JB slams his bat downward hitting his attacker on the arms causing him to drop the blade.  JB continues with a swing to the abdomen, which finds its mark.  

Sword Man doubles over and JB takes the opportunity to send the bat downward onto the head, smashing it like a watermelon.

JB drops the bat and steps back.  

He examines his work.  He had killed three unknown individuals and it made him sick.

As he walks away, he finds himself on the road again walking desperately deeper into the forest.

He feels himself getting colder and he starts to shiver.  The shivering becomes a noticeable shake that forces him to sit and then lay on his side.  

He attempts to stand.  He takes two steps but he grabs his stomach and doubles over.

His teeth starts to chatter and his movements become seizure like.  

He balls up into a fetal position and attempts to ride out this ordeal.

He closes his eyes for a second and then opens them up.

What he discovers is that 

He’s back into the cell, in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably as a result of his alcohol withdrawal.

For the first time in a long time, JB CRIES OUT IN PAIN where the halls absorb the echoes into oblivion.

		JB
	AAAAHHHHHGGGG.

His CRIES of pain and helplessness continues and continues.  Again, only the walls hear him, and they are not empathetic.

LATER

We see JB still in a fetal position; his eyes open, staring into space wondering what other demons he will have to face in the coming days.

A faint sound.  BOOM.  BOOM.  BOOM.

It grabs his attention.  He gravitates to its source, which is behind the steel double doors.

Not strong enough to stand, he crawls to the door and sits with his back to it.  

Then he notices what sounds like the sound of a crowd cheering.

He places his ear to the smooth surface.  

Then he hears what sounds like an announcer.

		ANNOUNCER (B.G.)
	In the red corner, weighing in at
	175 lbs, wearing the yellow trunks
	and black stripes…

		JB
	Hey.  It’s a fight.  This is an
	arena and I’m next to it.  People
	can hear me now.  People can hear
	me.

JB gets on his feet and attempts to bang on the door.

The audience in the b.g. continue their cheering.  This feeds JB’s enthusiasm to make contact with the outside world.

However, his efforts are met with his inability to stay focused as he falls to the floor exhausted.  

		JB
	No.  Got to stay up.  Got
	to say up.

He fights the urge not to pass out, but his eyes close and he blanks out.

INT. LIVINGROOM – SEVERAL DAYS LATER

Sara lies on the couch, asleep, while Elena watches TV, the volume low.  A cordless phone is nearby on the coffee table next to her.

Cindy is in the kitchen cooking dinner when the phone RINGS.

Cindy picks up the wall phone immediately so not to disturb her mother.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION:  GREG/CINDY

Greg is at the precinct.  He’s no longer in a uniform, this time dressed in a suit and tie.  He appears to be uncomfortable, his shirt already loosened, tie pulled loose.

		GREG
	Det. Fogel here.  Is Sarah
	Baron available?

		CINDY
	Hi Greg, it’s Cindy.

		GREG
	How’s Sarah doing?

		CINDY
	Asleep.  She hasn’t slept in
	days.  I’m hoping she’d get
	a couple of hours in.

		GREG
	Poor gal.

		CINDY
	Any good news?

		GREG
	Well, I’m trying something different.
	Been given access to both
	National Crime and FBI data
	bases.  Submitted a request
	and was told I’d get results in
	a day or two.

		CINDY
	Cool.  What about anything else?

		GREG
	That’s what’s so puzzling.  I’ve
	reached dead ends everywhere.
	He seemed to have disappeared in 
	thin air.  That’s when the captain told
	me to take a different approach.

		CINDY
	Oh?  What’s that?

		GREG
	If you can’t find the missing 
	person?  Find the person who
	made him missing.

		CINDY
	Interesting.

		GREG
	Uh, huh.  Find files with 
	similar characteristics.  In
	the search, I listed words like:
	alcoholic, 50 years old, martial
	arts, Hispanic, 5’10”, 210 lbs.
	There were other words, but I
	think you follow me.  My goal
	is that I get some hits.
		(beat)
	I’m kind of low in the totem
	pole.  My request is a low priority,
	otherwise I’d already have it
	by now.

		CINDY
	Greg.  We really appreciate what
	you’re doing for us.  Really
	don’t know how much.

		GREG
	I think I do.  I think I do.

He hangs up.

THE DOOR BELL RINGS

		ELENA
	I’ll get it.

		CINDY
	Wait.  You’ll wake up grandma.

		SARAH
	Too late.  I’m up.  Who’s at
	the door?

		ELENA
	It’s uncle Theo!!!

She jumps and THEO BARON (20’s) grabs his niece and gives her a good long hug.

		CINDY
	You came to visit?

		THEO
	Here on a family emergency.

		SARAH
	Thanks for coming son.  But
	really, there’s nothing to
	do but wait.

		THEO
	Be surprised what I can do
	when I put my mind to it.

		ELENA
	Uncle Theo, grandpa’s lost.

		THEO
	I know baby.  That’s why I’m
	here.

		SARAH
	Cindy’s making dinner.  Put
	you’re stuff away and we
	can talk about what we 
	can do to help find your
	dad.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB sits up awake but still weak.

		VOICE
	Hard night.

		JB
	Night?  How would I know if
	it was night or day?

		VOICE
	It was.

		JB
	You had entertainment last
	night, I see?

		VOICE
	Oh?  You noticed?  Good.  Then
	you know that what we do is
	for real.

		JB
	Did anyone die?

		VOICE
	It was a good death.

		JB
	What’s a good death?

		VOICE
	When someone willingly dies for
	a cause.

		JB
	Then I guess I’ll die for no
	reason.

		VOICE
	Mr. Baron.  I suggest you begin your
	training immediately.

		JB
	Why?  I’m not match for you.  At the
	end of the two weeks, I’ll fight you
	but I’ll lose.  And I’ll die.  So
	fucking what?

		VOICE
	I’m sorry to hear that.  You’re
	family will also be sorry to hear
	that.

		JB
	My family will take care of themselves.

		VOICE
	No.  You don’t understand.  Let me 
say this again.  If you love your
family.  Truly love your family,
you will train for this match.

		JB
	What do you mean?

		VOICE
	Ah.  Got your attention.

		JB
	Leave them alone.  This is between
	you and me.

		VOICE
	That is entirely up to you.  If
	you do not prepare yourself
	properly for this match, then
	I have no choice.

		JB
	Son of a bitch.

		VOICE
	I’m afraid you have no choice in
	this matter.
		(beat)
	What can you do?  Review your
	options.  You have no position
	of power.  Either prepare for this
	fight properly or.

Uncomfortable silence.

		JB
	Or what, bastard.

		VOICE
	You have a lovely family.  Elena,
	your grand daughter, she’s exceptional.

		JB
	Leave them alone.  I’ll give
	you your match.  I’ll give you
	everything you need.  Just keep
	them out of this.  
		(beat)
	This is between you and me.  You’re
	gonna wish that you didn’t do this.
	Believe me man.  You’re gonna pay.
	You’re gonna pay big time.

		VOICE
	I’m sure I will.  I look forward
	to paying the price.  Any price.

Silence.

JB stands up and makes an attempt to walk around the dojo.  He’s still weak, but he moves his body despite its unwillingness.

INT. PRECINCT 

Greg is behind a desk, a stack of folders spread throughout, almost all of them are opened with “post it” notes stuck at strategic places.

The captain walks past his desk and reviews the mess, not so much as the details.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	So what do we have here?
	Any progress?

		GREG
	Don’t know.  But there’s eerie
	similarities.  This folder here.

He pulls out a folder showing a man sprawled out on the floor, face badly beaten.

		GREG
	This man here was a boxer in
	the 70’s.  A contender that did
	well but never had a world
	title.  Articles said he was
	pound for pound the best fighter
	of the era.  A bad rotator cuff
	ended his chances.  That was 
	30 years ago.

He pulls out another folder and opens it up.

		GREG
	This guy from Indianapolis made
	the Olympic wrestling team.  Lost
	the bronze medal by one point
	in Munich.  He retired and started
	a successful business.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	How about a theory?

		GREG
	All these folders, here in front
	of me, were pulled from the national
	data base.  They appear to have been,
	at one time, champions in one form
	of another.  Boxing, karate, kung
	fu, wrestling, jujitsu.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	You have something else?

		GREG
	They’re all over 45 years old,
	most of them in their 50’s.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	JB is over 50.  He was a world
	champion in karate.

		GREG
	Bare hands, full contact karate.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	So what are you saying?

		GREG
	I don’t know, but there’s way
	too much of a coincidence.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Do you know if they were kidnapped
	or reported missing? 

		GREG
	Only one.  The ex-Navy Seal.  His 
	wife called authorities when he
	did not show up from work.
		(beat)
	I’d like to take a drive and talk
	to the detective in charge.  I
	might be able to gather details
	not found in these files.  Something
	that could help me find JB.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	I don’t know.  We’re on a tight budget.

		GREG
	JB’s my friend.  One of my best. I’ve
	got to give it my best shot.  Besides
	San Diego is four hours drive.  Won’t
	cost the division that much.  Full
	tank of gas.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Alright.  One day only.  And don’t
	go overboard.

		GREG
	Will do.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Listen.  If I weren’t so short handed,
	I’d assign someone else to the case.
	You’re really too close to this.
	You can lose ojbectivity.

Greg takes his jacket and heads out.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Detective Fogel!

		GREG
	Yes cap.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Glad you decide to stay 
	board.  How does the new 
	uniform feel?

		GREG
	Not bad.  Not bad at all.

He continues walking out.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Hey.  Everything.  I want in a
	detailed report on my desk as
	soon as you get back.  Got it?

		GREG
	Consider it done.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	If it isn’t, I’ll slam you down
	to meter maid.

Greg waives and exits the door.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB sits cross-legged, eyes closed and meditating.  His unshaved face now sports a beard, and his uncut hair falls uncombed to his face, specs of white showing his age and wisdom.

FADE TO:

HIS THOUGHTS 

Which takes us to when he was in his teens, face-to-face with his karate master, TENSHO HARUDA.

They’re in a dojo setting.  It’s peaceful and quiet, perfect for a one-to-one conversation.

		TENSHO
	Someday, you will need to use
	these techniques to save your
	life or someone elses.

		JB
	But didn’t you say these are
	killing techniques?

		TENSHO
	To understand the value of life, you
	must learn to kill and appreciate
	death for what it is.

		JB
	What is it sensei?

		TENSHO
	A path towards true enlightenment
	and self actualization.

		JB
	Can’t I achieve that now?

		TENSHO
	Not possible.  You live in
	materialistic world, filled with
	distractions necessary for
	survival.  In order for that
	to happen, you must give up
	everything and humble yourself
	to the lowest level of life.

		JB
	How’s that possible?

		TENSHO
	If this is your goal, then you
	will find the way.

		JB
	Why can’t you teach me?

		TENSHO
	Because it can’t be learned
	only experienced.

		JB
	I’m not good at this.

		TENSHO
	That’s why it’s time.  Time
	to learn…how to kill.

		JB
	I’m not sure if I want to 
	learn that.

		TENSHO
	Sometimes, in order for you to
	live, you must know how to take
	a life.

		JB
	Wow.  That’s deep.  Real deep.

		TENSHO
	Are you ready to learn?

		JB
	Yes, sensei.

FADE BACK TO DUNGEON/DOJO

ON JB who is still in cross-legged position.  

THEN his eyes open and he stares into space.  He has passed the second test.

INT. FRANK’S FURNITURE STORE

Frank just finishes taking an order from a customer when Sarah and Theo walk in.  

He excuses himself when he sees them. 

		FRANK
	Sister.  Come in. Theo. A wonderful
	pleasure.  Please sit.  I’ll get
	us something to drink.

		SARAH
	We’re not staying.  We came to
	ask a favor.

		FRANK
	Anything.  Just ask.

		SARAH
	I want you to put this flyer
	on the outside of your store.

Theo pulls out a flyer from his folder and hands it to him.

It’s a folder with JB’s picture on it with the bold letters JAIME “JB” BARON IF YOU’VE SEEN HIM PLEASE CALL BAKERSFIELD POLICE AT (661) 322-9253.

		FRANK
	Of course, anything.

The customer is impatiently waiting.

		THEO
	Is it true, you fired him?

		FRANK
	Yes and no.  Kind of, sort of.

		SARAH
	What do you mean, yes, no, kind
	of sort of?

		FRANK
	Didn’t mean it to end it that
	way.  I was trying to get him
	to go to church.
		(beat)
	Thought it would help.

When Sarah speaks to Frank, she starts soft spoken but crescendos to full blown screaming.

The customer, earshot distance, eaves drops, and tries to get closer by pretending to shop.

		SARAH
	Frank.  You were stupid when we
	were kids, and you’re stupid
	now.  What in our whole life
	did you think he would even
	consider an offer like that
	from YOU OF ALL PEOPLE??!!!

She stares at the customer who takes the hint to leave.

		THEO
	Lucky dad didn’t kick your ass.

Frank tries to chase after his customer.

		SARAH
	It wouldn’t have been the 
	first time.

		FRANK
	Now look, you scared off a customer.

		SARAH
	You’ll get more.  Now why did
	you fire my husband?  You know
	he’s had a hard time since the
	company fired him.  

		THEO
	I thought he was laid off.  And
	the company moved out of state.

		SARAH
	I just found out the truth.  He
	was fired.  Something about not
	making his quota.  Never in his
	twenty five years with the company
	did he not make his mark.  Getting
	rid of him was the company’s way
	of bringing in new blood.  Had
	I known, I would’ve convinced
	him to sue the company for all
	its worth.  But then I realized
	that it wouldn’t have mattered.
She sighs.

		SARAH
	He was too proud of a man.  

She cries.

		FRANK
	Sarah.  Theo.  I’ve been witnessed.
	I’m saved.  The Lord can help you
	in your time of need.

		SARAH
	CAN IT FRANK!  You’re so full of
	shit, there isn’t enough laxatives
	in the world to pull it out of
	you.

		THEO
	Alright mom.

FRANK
	Sarah.  I’m trying okay.  When
	I sent JB packing, I did it to
	try to help him out.  Show him
	the path towards enlightenment.

		SARAH
	Frank, you’re my brother.  I
	know you.  What’s going on?  I
	mean.  What.  Is.  Going.  On?

He finally resigns to the fact that he was found out.

		FRANK
	Damn.  Is it really that evident?
	Thought I was pretty good.
		(beat)
	I mean, you saw through it all?

		THEO
	Not even close, uncle Frank.

		FRANK
	A little?

Theo shrugs.

		SARAH
	Still waiting.

		FRANK
	Oh yeah. Ahem.  How can I say
	this.  Appears Connie hired a
	PI to chase me down.  Well
		(beat)
	You know my history.

		SARAH
	So?

		FRANK
	Don’t you get it?  If I play
	the role of a repentant husband.
	Connie won’t divorce me and take
	my money.

		THEO
	Why don’t you just hire a good lawyer?

		FRANK
	They’ve got pictures.

		SARAH
	What kind of pictures?

		FRANK
	Bad.  Real bad.

		THEO
	Just tell her.  Who you gonna believe?
	Me or your lying eyes?

Theo and Frank laugh and slap high fives.

Sarah doesn’t share their humor.

		SARAH
	Frank.  You shit.  You’re going
	to help me find my husband.

		FRANK
	Not my fault.  He’s a drunk.

		SARAH
		(hurtful)
	Just like you.  Always using the
	truth to put somebody down.  Listen
	dear brother of mine…who brought
	case after case of beer to our
	house on weekends because you 
	couldn’t drink at home.  Maybe,
	don’t you think, THAT contributed
	to his problem?  That became my
	problem.  Which is your problem?

Frank looks to Theo for help.  

Theo responds by raising his hands and telling his uncle that he’s on his own on this one.

		FRANK
	So.  All you want me to do is
	pass out fliers, stuff like
	that?  Talk to people?  I can do that.

		SARAH
	Thanks for volunteering.

EXT. SAN DIEGO POLICE STATION – DAY

Established shot of police statin.

INT. SAN DIEGO POLICE PRECINT

Greg meets with DET. EFREM MARTINEZ (30’s) in a conference room.  Det. Martinez is professional, courteous, and accommodating.

		GREG
	Thanks for meeting with me
	on such short notice.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	My pleasure.  Anything to help
	a fellow badge.

		GREG
	I’m working on a case that could
	somehow be related to the Art
	Jones case you worked on last
	year.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Difficult one.  I was called
	in on a missing person.  Art
	Jones owns an Auto Parts Store
	about a mile from home.  He
	was to meet his wife for dinner
	at their favorite dive.  Of
	course, he was a no show.  I
	checked his shop and there were
	no signs of struggle.  Money
	was still in the cash register,
	safe.  Alarm was activated.  He
	just disappeared in thin air.

		GREG
	I understand he was some bad ass.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Ex-Navy Seal.  Highly decorated 
	Vietnam veteran.

		GREG
	So, he’s a bad ass.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	I wouldn’t want to throw hands
	with him.  He was also in tip
	top shape.  At 50 he worked out
	everyday at the gym.  Competes
	in marathons and triathlons.
	Freak of nature in my book.

		GREG
	Why would you say that?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	At 50, the last place you’d see
	me is working out.

		GREG
	Really?  Why’d you say that?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	At that age, you should be getting
	ready for retirement.

Greg pulls out his notebook and flips the page.

		GREG
	When you found him, at Balboa
	Park.  He was bludgeoned to death
	by blunt force.  Did anyone determine
	the type of blunt instruments that
	caused the death?  Baseball bat,
	tire iron, lead pipe?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Crime lab verified marks consistent
	with fist and shoes.

		GREG
	Get the size of the shoe?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Don’t laugh.  Crime lab tried not
	only to find the size, but the 
	exact make.  Believe that.

		GREG
	Believe it.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Unfortunately, no solid leads, 
	except…

He stops and holds back his statement.

		GREG
	And?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Well.  Checked the national
	data base.

		GREG
	Pretty cool, huh?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Something odd, and got my ass
chewed for checking.

		GREG
	Go on.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	You probably saw that similar
	incidents occurred at various
	places in the United States.

		GREG
	Uh, huh.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	One wild card that was consistent
	with all homicides.

		GREG
	Did the name Anderson Industry
	come up?

Det. Martinez smiles.  

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Good job.  

		GREG
	Make any contact?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Sorry.  Captain’s orders.  Felt
	without solid evidence, it
	wasn’t appropriate to bring them
	into the investigation.

		GREG
	Well.  I haven’t been admonished.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Hey.  Alright.  You know.  I’ve
	got some questions I’ve prepared.
	Think you might want to take a 
	look at them?

		GREG
	This visit was worth the full
	tank of gas.

MONTAGE OF SHOTS:

1.	Frank and Theo in a car.

2.	Theo exists car and staples flyer on bulletin board.

3.	Frank walks in a restaurant and passes flyers to people eating.

4.	THEO staples flyers in front of a urinal.  Someone walks up to the urinal, unzips his pants, pees and stares at the flyer.

5.	CLOSE ON FLYER:  FREE FURNITURE TO ANYONE WITH INFORMATION TO THE WHEREABOUTS OF JAIME “JB” BARON.

6.	Frank notices flyer and rips it off the wall.

INT.  FRANK’S FURNITURE

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION:  FRANK/SARAH

		FRANK
	You see the flyers that are out
	there?

		SARAH
	Wait till you see the full page
	ad in the paper.  The paper, would
	you believe it?  Donated a
	a full page to help find JB.  And thanks 
	for donating free furniture.

		FRANK
	I didn’t donate furniture.

		SARAH
	Oh yes you did.  You said anything
	to help find JB.  Well, this is
	your “anything.”  Thanks again.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB stretches in a corner.  

The trapdoor opens and the empty food tray is taken away.

		VOICE
	I see you ate.  You worried me.

		JB
	You mean disappointed you.

		VOICE
	Why do you say that?

		JB
	I could’ve died.  And I truly felt
	that I was near death these past
	couple of days.

		VOICE
	Yes, to have died.  That would’ve
	been a pity.  But you didn’t.  

		JB
I have a long way to go to be combat ready.

		VOICE
	Yes, and I must apologize.  

		JB
	Oh?  So you want to tell me that
	this is a joke?  And I get to
	go home now?

		VOICE
	Of course.
		(beat)
	Not.  

Voice LAUGHS.

		VOICE
	What I wanted to tell you
	was that the couple of days you
	spoke about was actually five days.
	Your withdrawal period, Mr. Baron
	lasted five days.  You hadn’t eaten.
	You were dangerously dehydrated.  Yes, you
	could’ve died.  But you didn’t.
	You ate a good breakfast, and drank
	plenty of liquids.  I think you’re 
	ready to begin your training.

		JB
	Five days?

		VOICE
	Nine days left.

		JB
	Impossible.

		VOICE
	Of course it is.  But for you, 
	there was no such word in your 
	vocabulary.

		JB
	Well I said it.  Which means
	it’s in my vocabulary now.

		VOICE
	I’m sure you want to see your
	wife, your son.  Daughter.
	Elena, your granddaughter.

		JB
	Bastard.  Leave them alone.

		VOICE
	Relax.  I’ve no interest in
	them.  They have no fighting
	skills.  It’s you I want.  And
	I want you to be in the same
	shape you were when you won
	the coveted Kyokushanki World
	title.

		JB
	Leave them out of this, and
	you will get the match you
	requested.

		VOICE
	Good, Mr. Baron.  I look forward
	to our meet.  It will be
	glorious.

JB starts his workout by jogging around the workout area.

EXT. ANDERSON INDUSTRIES – DAY

Established shot of company building, a large commercial building that occupies a five-acre lot.

We see Det. Greg Fogel drive up in his un-marked police cruiser.  He gets out and brings with him a pad folio.  

His tie is loose and decides to tighten it.  He pulls down his suit and readies himself as if applying for an important interview.

INT. BUILDING

Greg walks through the heavy glass doors and approaches the security desk.  He is met with a muscular SAMOAN with the name tag FALI on him. 

Fali (20’s) is talking with another security guard, RON SMITH (20’s), African-American, another guard.  Both are dressed in dark blue blazers with matching shirts and ties.  They are nonetheless menacing.

Fali speaks through a thick Samoan-Hawaiian accent.

		RON
	I still think that Bonds juiced up
	and should have the home run title
	taken away from him.

		FALI
	You’re cracked, bruda.  First of all,
	he works out every day.  He’s a
	dedicated athlete.  Eats right.
	Lives right.  He da real ting.  No
	doubt about it.

		RON
	Got a round of golf that says he’s
	juiced.

Greg interrupts.

		GREG
	You play golf?

		RON
	What?  You think we don’t play
	golf?  Hit in the high 70’s.
	Fali, here, got a couple of
	strokes over me.

		GREG
	Pegged you two as football or
	baseball types.

		FALI
	We play for State, but our team
	sucks.  No chance for a draft
	pick.

		GREG
	So you play golf?

		RON
	A game of finesse.  

		GREG
	So let me ask a question, how
	do mountains like you guys
	control hitting small ball
	through an eye loop.

		FALI
	Practice brudda.  Lots of
	practice.

		RON
	This company’s good about fitness.
	Got a full size gym, pool, 
	rock climbing wall.  Basketball
	course.  Kungfu, karate class.

		FALI
Even got a nine hole course.

		GREG
	Now I get it.  Part of your
	work is play.

		RON
	Hard to find someone who works
	here not in shape.  Company president
	believes in total fitness.

		FALI
	Even got a nutritionist that
	helps prepares our meals in the
	cafeteria.

		GREG
	I’m more than impressed.  

		RON
	So, applying for a job?  

		FALI
	Good place to work for.

		GREG
	Love to, but I’m already working.
	I’m here to see Donald Anderson.
	I have an appointment.

He signs the book on the desk and shows his badge as identification.

Fali takes it and examines in.  He gives it to Ron who also reviews it.

		RON
	Bakersfield?  Still foggy
	there?

		GREG
	Only in the winter.

		RON
	Played ball at BC.  Hot in the
	summer and freezing in the winter.
	Don’t know how you stand it
	there.

		GREG
	Get used to it.
		(beat)
	At least that’s what I tell myself.

He hands it back to Greg.

		FALI
	You carrying?

Greg pulls back his coat showing the holstered 9 mm.

Fali pulls out a white visitor’s name tag with blue lettering, but then he replaces it with one with red letters.

		RON
	It lets security know that you’re
	packing.  It’s okay, cops come
	here all the time.

		GREG
	Really?

Greg wonders why.

		FALI
	His office is on the second floor.
	Take the elevator.  As soon as 
	the doors open, you will see his
	receptionist behind the half
	moon counter.

Greg bypasses the metal detectors.

		RON
	Bakersfield’s got nice courses.

		GREG
	Good luck on the bet.

He stops and turns back towards the guards.

		GREG
	Let me ask a question.  Any
	of you Raiders fans?

		FALI
	Ron here is from Oakland.
	Wadda you tink?

		GREG
	Who’s stronger?  

		RON
	Fali thinks he is.  

		FALI
	Not by much.

		GREG
	Sometimes, techniques mean more
	than pure strength.

We follow Greg into the elevator.  Though the discussion with security helped break the ice, he appears apprehensive and nervous.

The door opens and he walks to the receptionist, as the security guard says, behind the half moon counter desk.  

She’s an attractive Asian (20’s) with smooth features.  She smiles when Greg walks in.

A nameplate shows her name:  ARLENE RAMOS.

		ARLENE
	Det. Fogel.  You’re three minutes early.
	Please sign the guest book.

Greg takes the pen and scribbles his name.

		ARLENE
	Please have a seat.

He takes a seat in one of the plush couches next to an end table with a Wall Street Journal and US Business News, and Sports Illustrated and Black Belt Magazines.

		ARLENE
	Would you like something to drink?

Greg stands up immediately.

		GREG
	Thank you.  No.

		ARLENE
	There’s a bowl of refreshments
	in his office if you change
	your mind.

		GREG
	Thank you.

On her desk panel, a red light flickers on and off.

		ARLENE
	Mr. Anderson is ready to see you.
	You can go through that door.

INT. ANDERSON’S OFFICE

It’s vast, ostentatious and impeccably neat.  There’s an air of complete discipline that sends a shiver down Greg’s spine.

One corner, the large silver bowl with ice and drinks sits underneath a large framed picture of an elderly gentleman standing in a posed position.

DONALD ANDERSON, (50s’), dressed in an Italian suit, gets up to great the detective.

		DONALD
	Det. Fogel.  Please sit down.

Greg shakes Donald’s hand.

		DONALD
	Care for something to drink?  I
	have to take my supplements.

		GREG
	I guess I can have a bottle of
	apple juice.

		DONALD
	Good.

They walk to the wet bar and they each help themselves to a drink.  

		DONALD
	I’ve got aches and pains from 
	past injuries.  Supplements help.

		GREG
	Pain pills?

		DONALD
	Sometimes.  Not all the time, 
	though.  Bad for you.

Donald pops his pills that Greg notices doesn’t look like herbal supplements.

Greg points to the painting with his bottle.

		GREG
	Your father?

		DONALD
	Founder of the company.  He
	was the inspiration, the backbone,
	blood, sweat and tears that
	made it what it is.

He walks to the picture.

		DONALD
	When I was a child, he owned a 
	small grocery store downtown.  He
	worked around the clock, seven
	days a week, 365 days out of the
	year.  Mother was there with him,
		(beat)
	Till she died from pure exhaustion.
	I started working with him at the
	tender age of ten, and never looked
	back.

		GREG
	How did he die?

		DONALD
	Oh.  He’s not dead.  At least not
	that I know of.

		GREG
	He’s missing?

		DONALD
	I have the best private investigators
	that money can buy trying to locate
	his whereabouts.  

		GREG
	Trying to bring him back?

		DONALD
	That would be disrespectful.  I
	just want to know where he’s at.
	Once that’s accomplished, I’ll
	retain special individuals.  To make
	sure he’s okay.  Of course from a
	distance.

		GREG
	Have any idea where he’s at?

		DONALD
	My father always wanted to learn
	the spiritual aspects of martial 
	arts.  When I was in high school, his
	weakness was the t.v. show:  “Kung Fu”.
	He’s make mom and I quit what we
	were doing.  Sit down with a bowl
	of popcorn and watch David Carradine
	and his flashbacks, chop suey bad
	guys with his hands and feet.  Wasn’t
	bad really.  It was a time when we
	as a family got together and did 
	something.  Hated the show.  Loved 
	the time.

		GREG
	He train at all?

		DONALD
	Kidding?  He barely had enough time to
	eat and use the bathroom.

		GREG
	But the guards told me that physical
	training and education was part of
	the company benefits.

		DONALD
	I pushed it after taking full control
	over the company.

		GREG
	Which is why I’m here.

		DONALD
	Of course.  I apologize.  Love
	to talk, sometimes too much.  How
	can I help you?

		GREG
	I’m investigating a missing persons
	case that has opened up other 
cold case files.

		DONALD
	Sounds interesting.

		GREG
	There’s a correlation that’s a long
	shot but something to consider as
	key or non-essential.

		DONALD
	What could that be?

		GREG
	The “incidents” occurred in the same
	cities, and near areas where your
	facilities are located.

		DONALD
	How coincidental.

		GREG
	I can’t help but think that perhaps
	someone who works for you could
	be responsible.

		DONALD
	Can I know the nature of these
	incidents?  Perhaps, I can be of
	some help.

		GREG
	I’m afraid not.  Because of the
	sensitivity of the cases, and certain
	privacy issues, I’m not able to
	disclose it to you.  At least not at
	this time.

		DONALD
	Then, how can I be of help?

		GREG
	I just want to personally let
	you know, that we may visit some
	of your facilities in Seattle,
	Indianapolis, and Chicago, and
	I didn’t want to create any undo
	alarm.  But then again, we may 
	not.  It’s just a hunch, with very
	little to substantiate the cost.

		DONALD
	I can appreciate that.

Greg stands.

		GREG
	Then our business is done.  Thank
	you for your time.

		DONALD
	Please.  Do you have to leave right
	away?

		GREG
	What do you have in mind?

		DONALD
	Good.  Can I give you a tour?

		GREG
	Of the whole facility?

		DONALD
	I’ve carts.

INT. CRUISER

Greg drives with a cell phone on his ear.

		GREG
	Cap.  Anderson Industry is 
	a definite hit.  Can’t tell
	you how strong it is, but it’s
	something.  I’m on my way back.
	Will report more then.

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

MONTAGE OF SHOTS:

1.	JB exercises pushups his body aching with each movement, his beard and hair longer.

2.	JB exercises jumping jacks, sweat pouring from the side of his face.

3.	JB hits the heavy bag, each contact harder than the other.

4.	We watch JB practicing a kata (kusanku dai or suparunpei) in its entirety.

ON JB who wipes his body dry.  The short time of working out shows on his body, which has grown lean and muscular.

Food is shot through the trap door.

He washes himself down before he settles down to eat.

		VOICE
	You’re progressing well, Mr. Baron.

		JB
	I’m far from where I need to be.

		VOICE
	Where would you like to be?  When
	will you be ready?

		JB
	When I can look death in the face
	and laugh.

		VOICE
	So philosophical.  I admire that
	in you.
		(beat)
	Did you know, your family and
	friends are looking for you.  Their
	campaign is impressive.  They
	love you very much.

		JB
	How will that help me with
	you?

		VOICE
	I suppose from a combat standpoint.
	NOTHING.

		JB
	What other standpoint matters?

		VOICE
	From within.  As the body may be
	weak, the mind and spirit makes
	up the difference.

		JB
	You must’ve been one of my students.
	Or you’ve trained under my
	master Tensho Haruda.  

		VOICE
	A universal thought.  Passed
	along from generation to generation.

		JB
	So it seems.  
		(beat)
	In several days, one of us will
	die.  I have no intentions of
	dying; however, I am at a disadvantage.
	You clearly have that edge.

Pause.

		VOICE
	You feel that I have the upper
	hand?  How presumptuous of you.
	You hear my voice, and accept
	the challenge, never ever 
	seeing who I am.  What I am.

		JB
	Anyone who challenges a person,
	any person.  Me.  To a duel of
	death, must know that there is
	a certain amount of seriousness.
	I expect someone whose skill is 
	as good if not better than mine. 
	Which would make you pretty damn good.  
	If I had to fight someone as good as 
	me, I’d be pretty scared.

		VOICE
	Yes.  A worthy opponent.  Perhaps
	the best challenge of them all.

		JB
	In a couple of days.  We shall see.

INT. POLICE PRECINCT

Capt. Fairbanks stops by Greg’s desk.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	How’s it coming?

		GREG
	Just found something interesting.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Good.  What is it?

		GREG
	Sherwood Anderson III, Donald’s
	father was diagnosed with inoperable
	cancer about six months ago.  He’s
	been missing since.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Know if he’s expired since?

		GREG
	Actually, he’s still alive, or
	at least everybody think he’s alive.
	Though Donald Anderson says he
	doesn’t know where he is, my reports
	say that he’s in a Tibetian Monastary
	learning how to develop his mind,
	body, and spirit to beat this disease.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	How does this bring us closer to
	find Jaime Baron.

		GREG
	Our speculation that Anderson Industry
	was a long shot now becomes a strong
	lead.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Okay big shot, what next?

		GREG
	I have no idea.  But I’m getting
	there.  I’m getting there.

		CAPT. FAIRBANKS
	Better get there soon.  Coz
	I’ve got a stack of files that
	you need your assistance.  Two
	more days and this goes to the
	bottom.  Got it?

		GREG
	I’ll get it.  You can take that to
	the bank.

INT. SARAH’S HOME – DAY

Sarah is by the phone, sitting in a corner chair, reading when the door bell rings.

Elena runs from a bedroom and answers the door.

		ELENA
	I’ll get it.

Sarah gets up from the chair not expecting who’ll be at he door, hoping it’d be JB.

Instead, a tall white handsome man appears.  It’s Jason white, the man who spent time with JB at the bar before he disappeared.

		JASON
	Mrs. Baron.  My name is Jason
	White.  I took classes from
	your husband years ago.

		SARAH
	Yes, I know who you are.  You
	were that boy who wanted to
	prove something to your dad
	by fighting in the ring.  

Jason’s surprised.

		JASON
	You remembered?  All the students
	who your husband taught, and
	you remember me?

		SARAH
	Jason remembers every single 
	student he taught.  He kept files
	on each and everyone of you.  Where
	you were born, who your mother and
	fathers were.  What schools and
	churches you attended.  When you
	were promoted.

		JASON
	Funny.  When I saw him at the 
	bar, that night when he disappeared,
	he acted as if he didn’t know
	me.

		SARAH
	You saw him?  You saw him that night?

		JASON
	Yes.  We spoke briefly.  I would’ve
	liked to have spent more time
	with him, but I was having dinner
	with my wife and he didn’t
	really looked like he wanted to
	have a discussion.  At least not
	without a drink or two.

		SARAH
	My husband, even with a fifth
	of liquor in his system, will recall
	the time when he taught you your
	first kata.  He appeared to be aloof	so you can leave him be.

		JASON
	Amazing.  Amazing man.

		SARAH
	Mr. White.  How can I help you
	today?

		JASON
	I came to help.  I would like to
	provide you with whatever assistance.

		SARAH
	My son and brother are combing
	the area, passing out flyers and
	talking to everyone in the area.
	I don’t know.  What can you do?

		JASON
	After graduating from high school
	I went off to USC and graduated
	with a medical degree.

		SARAH
	You’re a doctor?

		JASON
	I run the Drug and Rehab Center
	for the Alvarado Medical Group.
	I’m not saying I know everything,
	but when it comes to drug and
	alcohol abuse, I’ve a couple tricks
	up my sleeve.

		SARAH
	Could’ve used you two years ago
	when he first started his 
alcohol binge?

		JASON
	Can I ask, what could’ve started
	this?  There must’ve been some
	contributing factors.

		SARAH
	As you know, my husband was on the
	top of the world.  A respected
	member of the community, martial
	arts instructor and world champion,
	successful executive.  Life was 
	was good.  Then one day…

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB’s sitting on the floor, talking to the voice.

		JB
	I came home.  Wife just started
	her job with a pharmaceutical
	company, right after graduating
	from college.  She graduated 
	late, taking one class per quarter.
	Got to hand it to her.  After
	twenty years, she finally got
	her college degree.  One of the
	happiest days of her life, happened
	to be my worst.

		VOICE
	What happened?

		JB
	I was fired.  
		(beat)
	Rodney Thompson and I were 
	working on this huge proposal.
	The money made with this sale
	would’ve tripled the company’s
	net worth.

Long pause.

		JB (Cont’d)
	Rodney and I met with the president
	of the company.  I remember his
	name.  Sherwood Anderson the Third.
	You had to say “the third” when
	introducing him.  To stay politically
	correct.  He normally doesn’t
	attend meetings personally, but
	because I was a world champ and he
	was a martial arts aficionado, he
	agreed to meet.  The dinner meeting
	went well and points of the
	contract were finalized.  It was a go
	as far as I was concerned.  Unfortunately,
	Rodney, to help his nerves, had more
	than his share of drinks.  He made
	an off color remark.

		VOICE
	What was that?

		JB
	After the deal was made, Mr. 
	Anderson was interested in my martial
	arts career, asking what I did
	to win the title.  Rodney was asked
	to attend only to support the meeting.
	He was instructed to speak only
	when asked.  Before I could say
	anything, Rodney made a remark
	about how David Caradine made a
	bad Shaolin Monk in Kung Fu.
	
		VOICE
	That was a mistake.

		JB
	I had no idea that during his
	upcoming years, in the early 70’s,
	his favorite show.  The only show
	he watched was “Kung Fu”.  And his
	favorite actor was David Caradine.
	Go figure.

		VOICE
	It wasn’t your fault.  Why were
	you fired?

		JB
	To save his butt, Rodney told the
	story differently.  The slip according
to him came from my mouth.

		VOICE
	You should’ve killed him.  I would’ve.

		JB
	It was a shock.  Never in my life.
	Of all the times when I fought
	hand to hand against the most
	dangerous fighters in the world, I
	could not defend myself against
	Rodney’s lies.  I walked away defeated.
	Losing for the first time in my
	life.

		VOICE
	And you started drinking.

		JB
	It was the easiest thing to do.
	Did you know that you can succumb 
	to alcohol in a short period of time?

Lengthy pause.

		VOICE
	If you win, will you go back to
	alcohol?

		JB
	Don’t know.  In order for me
	to win, I must take another person’s
	life.  I’ve never done it before and 
don’t look forward to it.

		VOICE
	I suppose that’s another challenge
	when or if that time comes.

EXT. TIGER’S LAIR – NIGHT

Established shot of martial arts school with sign “Tiger’s Lair”.

INT. DOJO 

We see a martial arts studio devoted to reality cage fighting.  TERRANCE “TIGER” KINOSHITA is the head instructor.  Scores of trophies are displayed on all of the walls, as well as pictures with celebrities, and posters of past matches.

Two sides of the dojo are devoted to spectators with rows of chairs.  Among those watching is Donald Anderson, and from afar, an unknown person studies Donald. 

Tiger is in a threadbare white gi.  He is executing grappling techniques with a protégé.  The protégé attempts a quick arm lock only to be reversed in a choke hold.

The protégé taps out. 

They both stand and bow to each other. 

The protégé then goes to another fighter and resumes his kumite training.

The unknown person is MIKE POPE, undercover detective, who sits next to Donald and begins a conversation.

		MIKE
	Impressive, isn’t he?

		DONALD
	Is he a master?

		MIKE
	Don’t know.  I do know that he
	was a world kodokan in his
	weight range way back in 1969
	and 1973.

		DONALD
	Kodokan?

		MIKE
	Judo.  He’s an American born
	Japanese who represented the 
	United States at the World 
	Championship.  Though he still
	instructs judo, he trains fighters
	to fight in the cage.  You know
	reality, ultimate fighting challenge
	stuff?

		DONALD
	A true champion.

		MIKE
	Not many has been able to beat
	him.  I think someone said that
	he’s only lost several times.
	Imagine that.

		DONALD
	Yes.  Imagine that.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Last student leaves and Tiger stays to finish his paperwork.

Tiger hears the door open and close.

		TIGER
	We’re closed.  Come back tomorrow.

He works more on his paper work but doesn’t hear the door open and close again.

		TIGER
	You still here?

He walks out of his office and into the dojo.  Donald, who is dressed in a pair of designer sweats, waits for him.

		TIGER
	I’m sorry.  We’re closed.  Can
	you come back tomorrow?

		DONALD
	You’re a world champion.

		TIGER
	Well.  Was.  That was a long
	time ago.

		DONALD
	I’m here to challenge you.

		TIGER
	Beg your pardon?

		DONALD
	Challenge.  I issue you a 
	challenge.  A duel.  Fight
	to the death.

		TIGER
	You’re cracked buddy.  Loco
	in the cabesa.  

		DONALD
	Why?  Are you a coward?

		TIGER
	I’m more like scared.

		DONALD
	So you are a coward.

		TIGER
	No scared.  Scared that I may
	hurt you.  Scared that
	whatever illness you have may
	be contagious.

Donald gets into the middle of the dojo and performs a kung fu form.  Afterwards, he waives Tiger on with his palm facing upwards.

		TIGER
	I’m not interested in participating
	in your game of stupidity.
	I’m going to my phone and call 911.
	That would give you enough time to
	go home and drink some hot chocolate.
	‘Kay?

		DONALD
	Fool.

Donald gets into a fighting stance and SCREAMS a KIA.  

He rushes Tiger and attacks with relatively clean punches and kicks.

Tiger responds by deftly blocking each technique.

This frustrates Donald who then attacks fiercely.  Though quicker and with more force, it doesn’t phase Tiger at all.  

The harder Donald tries, the easier Tiger tries.

Donald stops and gets is bearings.  He pulls out a pair of nunchakos from his sweats and flails them around ala Bruce Lee.

		TIGER
	Let me guess.  You want to
	beat the crap out of me with
	those things.  Am I right about
	that?

		DONALD
	To prove to you who has the more
	superior style.

		TIGER
	Well I guess that means you have
	intentions of hurting me, possibly
	kill me with those things.

		DONALD
	Losing is not an option.

		TIGER
	Well I guess that’s it.

Det. Martinez, Mike and several other police officers with guns drawn appear from the back and front.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Mr. Anderson.  I’d like you to come
	with me please, if you don’t mind.

		DONALD
	What?  What’s going on?

		MIKE
	You’re arrested buddy, for your
	very bad impersonation of
	a martial artist.
		(to Det. Martinez)
	Can I file it like that?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Assault and battery.  You’re being
	charged with assault and battery
	with intent to cause bodily harm.
	That we can charge you with,
	and arrest you.

		DONALD
	You can’t arrest me.  I have
	rights.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	I don’t know about that.  What
	do you say Sergeant Kinoshita?

		TIGER
	Yeah.  In my 30 years on the force,
	that would an arresting charge.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Did I tell you that Sergeant Kinoshita
	is an officer with the police 
	department?

He looks around.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Would someone like to read Mr.
	Anderson his rights?

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM

Donald sits in the interrogation room alone.  Det. Martinez
and Greg talk in an adjacent room, behind the two way mirror.

		GREG
	Thanks for giving me the heads
	up.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	You made good time.

		GREG
	I was in LA, actually visiting
	with relatives.  It was my
	day off.

		DET. MARTINEZ
He lawyered up, and we have to wait
	for his attorney before we can
	proceed.

		GREG
	Speaking of the devil

A gentleman dressed in a suit and in his 40’s walks in with a briefcase in his hand.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Let’s go.

		GREG
	Can we do that?

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Our house.  We can do anything.

Capt. Fairbanks enters as ARNIE LEVENSON, Donald’s attorney, speaks to his client privately.  He’s interrupted by Capt. Fairbanks and Greg walking in.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Now that your attorney’s here,
	where’s Jaime Baron?

		DONALD
	Who?

		ARNIE
	Donald, don’t say another word.

		GREG
	Jaime Baron.  JB, you son of a bitch.
	He went missing two weeks ago.

		DONALD
	Have no idea what you’re talking
	about.

		GREG
	Ex-world champion.  Jaime.  JB.
	Baron.

		DONALD
	Oh, him.  Great fighter.  But.
		(beat)
	However you think I’m involved,
	you’ve got it all wrong.  Don’t
	know nothing about that problem 
	of yours.

		ARNIE
	This conversation has officially
	ended.  Come on Donald.  We can
	leave.

Arnie throws a document on the table, and the attorney and suspect both leave.

		DET. MARTINEZ
	Lawyers.  

		GREG
	Guess I should call his wife and let
	her know what’s going on.

		DET. MARTIEZ
	Don’t let the cat out of the bag
	too far.  We don’t have anything
	solid yet.  In time, hopefully soon,
	we’ll get the whereabouts of your
	friend.

		GREG
	Gotcha.

He picks up a phone and dials.

INT. SARAH’S HOME

Phone RINGS.

Sarah picks up the phone.

		SARAH
	Hello?

INT. DUNGEON/DOJO

JB wakes up.  It’s “D” day.  

He walks to the sink, washes his face and looks at his reflection on the mirror.

The trap door opens.  The food tray slides through.

Seconds later, a package follows.

This piques his interest.

He picks up the package and tears the wrapper.

Unwrapped, he holds a karate gi and a black belt.

When he turns toward the food tray, he notices something different and next to it:  Hair clippers and an electric shaver.

He takes the clippers; find a plug on the wall.  He looks at his reflection on the mirror.  What he sees is an aged man with years of joy and sorrow.

He flicks the switch that activates the clippers.  He starts from the side of his head and begins to share his hair off.

As the clipper do their job, we watch his locks fall harmlessly to the floor, next to his feet.

LATER

We see him using the electric shaver to shave his beard.

LATER

Both hair and face are clean.

He takes the water and splashes his new clean look.

LATER

MONTAGE:

1.	He takes his clothes off.

2.	He raises the gi pants on.

3.	He dons the gi jacket on.

4.	He wraps the belt around his waist and ties a knot secure.

		VOICE
	Feels good, doesn’t it?

		JB
	I feel like a new man.

		VOICE
	For some, it feels like being
	reborn.  Physically.  Mentally.

		JB
	Spiritually.

		VOICE
	Are you a man of God?

		JB
	Have always believed in a higher
	source.  How could you explain
	the miracle of life?  Our ability
	to reason?

		VOICE
	What about science?  It explains
	our existence.  Why we’re here.

		JB
	Explains.  But not fulfills.

		VOICE
	And what about life after death?

		JB
	I believe in a consciousness, the
	essence of who we are.  When we
	die our consciousness is upgraded
	to a new level that we as human
	beings aren’t capable of understanding.

		VOICE
	What then do you define this
	consciousness.  This new level
	of being?

		JB
	Energy.  Intellect.  Emotion.
	Compassion.  Truth.  In their
	most purest forms.
		(beat)
	There is no way in which I
	can grasps their true meanings.
	Those who try, devote their whole
	lives to it.

		VOICE
	Holy men.

		JB
	Complete and total sacrifice.  All
	material goods, humbled to the
	lowest level of life.

		VOICE
	How is that possible?

		JB
	Remove all thoughts and experiences.
	Wants for future, needs for
	today, memories of the past.
	Complete nothingness.  And
	that’s why I believe in a God.

		VOICE
	Because of nothingness?

		JB
	Think of it?  Even nothing.
		(beat)
	Is something.  It had to be
	created, to explain its opposite.
	Which is what we enjoy and
	appreciate.

		VOICE
	Mr. Baron.  It was indeed a 
	pleasure.  
		(beat)
	It is time.  You have prepared
	and have prepared well.  Now you
	must meet your challenge.

		JB
	To the death.

		VOICE
	To life.

		JB
	One question, before we do combat.
	What system do you train?  Who
	did you train with?

		VOICE
	Just say that I was trained by
	the best.

		JB
	I have endured a lot these
	past weeks, prepared myself as
	I have never done in my life.
	If I do kill you, I apologize
	to you and your loved ones.

		VOICE
	Thank you. It’s good to be loved.

SOUNDS OF HEAVY LATCHES OPENING.

The heavy door slowly swings open.

An extreme bright light fills the opening gap that overcomes JB, blinding him unexpectedly.

He walks forward, eyes barely able to focus.

What he sees is this vast warehouse.  In it are hundreds of individuals dressed in martial arts uniforms.

It takes him by complete surprise.

From his left, he finds his family in a group:  Sarah, his wife, his son Theo, his daughter Cindy, and beloved grand daughter, Elena who in her cute little gi, bows.

Jason White walks to his side.

		JASON
	Sensei, I would like you to meet
	your students.

		JB
	The voice?

		JASON
	In order to live, sometimes
	a part of you (alcoholism)
	must die.
		(beat)
	Please.

Jason points to the crowd.

		JASON
		(screaming)
	Sensei ne, rei!!!!

		CROWD
		(bowing)
	OS!!!

JB puts both feet together, and with hands to his side, he bows respectfully.

		THE END

			FADE OUT