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B L A C K
F A D E I N O N :
Chevy Camaro '76 in an empty parking lot. The Chevy is parked
the wrong way round cutting across the white markings.
ETHAN CRAWLEY, 32 sits at the wheel. Ethan puts on a pair of
sunglasses.
E X T . 7 - 1 1 S T O R E - D A Y
Ethan's reflection in the glass of the automatic door.
I N T . 7 - 1 1 S T O R E - D A Y
Ethan Walks up aisles filled with cereal packets, apple
jacks, cornflakes and Cheetos.
Ethan wipes his hand across the door of the ice cream
chiller. Slides open the door and runs a finger along the ice
cream flavours.
ETHAN (V.O.)
I was stuck in the middle, not
knowing which way to turn, which
way to run. All torn up inside, but
I knew I had no choice in the
matter.
Ethan picks an ice cream tub.
He pauses placing the back of a hand on his head as if he's
recalling a mental shopping list.
ETHAN (V.O.)
What ever way you put it, it was a
time for action. A time to make it
happen.
I N T H E Q U E U E
Ethan is waiting to be served holding a single tub.
The queue is three people long. Moments later we are on the
L A S T C U S T O M E R
LARRY BURNER. Larry forks over a note and bags up his
shopping.
LARRY
Y'all take care.
Behind the counter is LENORA HIBBERTS.
Lenora smiles at Ethan.
Ethan beams one back at her. A long beat.
LENORA
I need to zap that...for the
register.
Silence.
ETHAN
Yes.
Ethan gives up the ice cream. Lenora zaps the tub and puts it
into a plastic bag.
LENORA
$4.99.
A long beat.
LENORA
Are you okay, sir?
ETHAN
Yes. A-okay.
Ethan produces a $5.00 bill. Their fingers brush together for
a moment.
LENORA
I mean...can I get you something.
Your face looks all crooked. Sort
of confused. You sure...
ETHAN
I'm sorry...My brain's a little
fried today. I think I'm gonna need
the contents of your register.
A line of neatly stacked bills in the draw of the register.
Lenora's eyes shine with excitement.
ETHAN
Okay, just place the bills into a
bag. Here.
(offers the ice cream bag)
LENORA
What about the ice cream? It will
make the money all wet.
ETHAN
That's my concern. Just keep the
bills comin.' Fold over these
people's hard earned.
She starts stripping out bills from the register and bunching
them up in little piles. She's pretty slow.
Ethan is now helping her.
ETHAN
See, real easy. You must have done
this before, right. I mean in a
place like this.
Lenora shakes her head still gathering money.
ETHAN
No.
LENORA
(Quietly)
Just started.
ETHAN
That sucks. Working here, I mean.
LENORA
Yeah...but I need the cash.
ETHAN
Uh-huh.
LENORA
I ain't staying here long. I got a
plan. I've it all mapped out. I'm a
writer you see...
ETHAN
Yeah. Throw a stick and you hit six
in L.A. A writer. You want to be
some kind of a hack?
LENORA
Novels...Short stories and the
like.
ETHAN
Neat. Okay, enough small talk for
the mo.
Lenora is looking still very nervous. Ethan laughs.
LENORA
Why are you laughing.
ETHAN
Don't tell nobody, I hate guns. I
never carry one. Can't even figure
out the VCR...I like to use a cell
phone. Press one into a guy's back
and say "stick em up." I didn't use
a phone on you.
Ethan pulls out a handful of notes from the bag in his hand.
The notes are wet and are dripping.
ETHAN
Jeez, I guess you were right about
the ice cream. Here take some of
these.
(puts some notes in her
hand)
Take 'em it's my treat. Just tell
them I stuck a gun in your face.
LENORA
It wouldn't feel right.
ETHAN
Please take them.
LENORA
I'm sorry.
ETHAN
That's okay...Don't be sorry. How
much do these schmucks pay here?
You're the last defence between
general public and the criminal
element, fugitives from the law,
desperate characters...a heel like
me. Call it danger money, a tax
free gift, a sudden payrise.
LENORA
$4.50 an hour less tax, I think.
Well, minus the smock.
ETHAN
That's the real crime. The uniform,
I mean. Sorry, I don't even know
your name. Bet it's real pretty.
LENORA
Lenora.
ETHAN
Lenora, it's a crime which ever way
you chop it. You should be robbing
these guys they're the bad guys.
LENORA
Well...
ETHAN
Lenora. Right lets square this
away. C'mon, please take the money,
it's a gratuity...to please me if
not for yourself.
LENORA
Okay, but I'm not about to make a
habit of this.
ETHAN
Sure. Whatever...Okay Lenora, it
was great doin' business. Glad we
had a chance to talk. Much obliged
if you can keep your mitts off the
alarm till I can bingo outta here.
LENORA
You don't sound like a thief.
ETHAN
I'll cut you into on the
deal...this is more like a hobby.
LENORA
But why do it?
ETHAN
The thrill. Not for the stash! For
the thrill of creepin' around in
the shadows...So like, what time do
they let you out of this place?
LENORA
You hustling me?
ETHAN
I'm hustlin' you. You like being
hustled, Lenora?
LENORA
Uh-huh.
ETHAN
When can I see you again? Do I have
to raid this place again?
LENORA
I get off at eight, no nine
tonight...
Ethan is grinning ear to ear.
LENORA
I never caught your name, cowboy.
ETHAN
Ethan.
LENORA
Till nine, Ethan. Till nine.
Ethan makes a gun out of his fingers, blows the tops of his
fingers and places it in his imaginary holster smiling at
Lenora. Ethan slowly waltzes out of the store. Short of the
door Ethan looks back longingly at Lenora.
Ethan disappears into the overexposed bright light outside in
the parking lot.
F L A R E T O W H I T E :
T H E E N D .
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