INT. TRIBECA LOFT - DAY
The CAMERA TRACKS slowly through clouds of moving dust. Shafts
of muted light pierce the dense atmosphere. An eerie
netherworld envelops us. Strange ghostly forms appear and
disappear in the distance. They seem like apparitions.
Broken timbers and dangling cables emerge from the smoky
light. We see hints of a huge demolished space.
An old white plaster wall FILLS THE SCREEN. Momentary blips
of light flash across it. SOUNDS of street traffic are heard
dimly in the distance.
With startling impact, the SOUND of a sledgehammer explodes
out of nowhere. The wall shudders.
HAMMER BLOWS assault the audience. They are loud and jarring.
The wall buckles.
Chunks of plaster CRASH to the floor. The air fills with new
swirls of white dust. The SLEDGEHAMMER smashes INTO VIEW.
Beams of sunlight cut through the cracks, piercing the
atmosphere like searchlights in a fog. A huge section of
wall falls toward camera as more plaster billows into the
air. We hear voices talking.
MOLLY (O.S.)
What a mess!
SAM (O.S.)
I told you!
Through jagged holes we can make out three dim figures on
the other side of the wall, all wielding SLEDGEHAMMERS.
SAM
I can't breathe.
MOLLY
Use your mask, dummy.
One of the figures adjusts something over his face. Isolated
rays of sunlight dance around him casting long shadows in
the air.
SAM
(singing)
"Volga boat..., man." Whoomph!
His hammer pounds the wall. Molly laughs.
ANGLE
The CAMERA MOVES IN and for the first time we see them. MOLLY
JENSEN, in her late 20's, has a bandanna around her hair and
a workman's mask over her nose, but we can tell from her
eyes and cheekbones that she is beautiful. SAM WHEAT, in his
late 30's, is also hidden behind a mask, but he has a strong
forehead and handsome features. Sweat is dripping down his
brow, leaving streaks in the dust. CARL BRUNER, early 30's,
removes his mask revealing a good looking young man with a
fashionable two-day stubble. Both men have their shirts off.
CUT TO:
ANGLE
BLACKNESS AND A LOUD THUD. Suddenly a shaft of light
penetrates the darkness. Another thud and more light. We see
a hole. The hook of a crowbar enters it, grappling with
something around the edges. Then, with a tug and a loud yank,
a huge section of tin ceiling crashes to the floor. Huge
clouds of dust fly into the air. Molly looks up, astonished.
MOLLY
Sam, look, there's a whole eight
feet up there.
SAM
And about eighty years of dust.
MOLLY
We have all this height, Sam. We
could add a second floor and put our
bedroom upstairs. That would leave
all this space.
SAM
(eyeing her curiously)
For what?
MOLLY
For space. Just space.
SAM
Be great for bumper cars.
Carl laughs as he looks at Sam. Their bodies, covered with
white powder, appear as strange, ghostly figures.
CARL
Sam, this may be none of my business,
but I'm concerned you're doing too
much coke.
Sam glances down at his white body. They all laugh.
MOLLY
Hey, Sam, turn around.
Sam obeys. Molly doodles on his chest, drawing a bow tie and
the outline of a tuxedo jacket. Her lines are quick,
accomplished, and subtly erotic.
CARL
(offering his body)
How 'bout me?
Molly nods. She reaches out and superimposes an armless female
torso over his. His stomach jumps sensually as she touches
it. Molly pulls back to admire her work. He looks like a
Greek statue.
CARL
I'll never wash again.
Molly laughs.
ANGLE
Sam, Molly, and Carl are holding their sledgehammers. Molly
begins to count.
The CAMERA TRACKS slowly through clouds of moving dust. Shafts
of muted light pierce the dense atmosphere. An eerie
netherworld envelops us. Strange ghostly forms appear and
disappear in the distance. They seem like apparitions.
Broken timbers and dangling cables emerge from the smoky
light. We see hints of a huge demolished space.
An old white plaster wall FILLS THE SCREEN. Momentary blips
of light flash across it. SOUNDS of street traffic are heard
dimly in the distance.
With startling impact, the SOUND of a sledgehammer explodes
out of nowhere. The wall shudders.
HAMMER BLOWS assault the audience. They are loud and jarring.
The wall buckles.
Chunks of plaster CRASH to the floor. The air fills with new
swirls of white dust. The SLEDGEHAMMER smashes INTO VIEW.
Beams of sunlight cut through the cracks, piercing the
atmosphere like searchlights in a fog. A huge section of
wall falls toward camera as more plaster billows into the
air. We hear voices talking.
MOLLY (O.S.)
What a mess!
SAM (O.S.)
I told you!
Through jagged holes we can make out three dim figures on
the other side of the wall, all wielding SLEDGEHAMMERS.
SAM
I can't breathe.
MOLLY
Use your mask, dummy.
One of the figures adjusts something over his face. Isolated
rays of sunlight dance around him casting long shadows in
the air.
SAM
(singing)
"Volga boat..., man." Whoomph!
His hammer pounds the wall. Molly laughs.
ANGLE
The CAMERA MOVES IN and for the first time we see them. MOLLY
JENSEN, in her late 20's, has a bandanna around her hair and
a workman's mask over her nose, but we can tell from her
eyes and cheekbones that she is beautiful. SAM WHEAT, in his
late 30's, is also hidden behind a mask, but he has a strong
forehead and handsome features. Sweat is dripping down his
brow, leaving streaks in the dust. CARL BRUNER, early 30's,
removes his mask revealing a good looking young man with a
fashionable two-day stubble. Both men have their shirts off.
CUT TO:
ANGLE
BLACKNESS AND A LOUD THUD. Suddenly a shaft of light
penetrates the darkness. Another thud and more light. We see
a hole. The hook of a crowbar enters it, grappling with
something around the edges. Then, with a tug and a loud yank,
a huge section of tin ceiling crashes to the floor. Huge
clouds of dust fly into the air. Molly looks up, astonished.
MOLLY
Sam, look, there's a whole eight
feet up there.
SAM
And about eighty years of dust.
MOLLY
We have all this height, Sam. We
could add a second floor and put our
bedroom upstairs. That would leave
all this space.
SAM
(eyeing her curiously)
For what?
MOLLY
For space. Just space.
SAM
Be great for bumper cars.
Carl laughs as he looks at Sam. Their bodies, covered with
white powder, appear as strange, ghostly figures.
CARL
Sam, this may be none of my business,
but I'm concerned you're doing too
much coke.
Sam glances down at his white body. They all laugh.
MOLLY
Hey, Sam, turn around.
Sam obeys. Molly doodles on his chest, drawing a bow tie and
the outline of a tuxedo jacket. Her lines are quick,
accomplished, and subtly erotic.
CARL
(offering his body)
How 'bout me?
Molly nods. She reaches out and superimposes an armless female
torso over his. His stomach jumps sensually as she touches
it. Molly pulls back to admire her work. He looks like a
Greek statue.
CARL
I'll never wash again.
Molly laughs.
ANGLE
Sam, Molly, and Carl are holding their sledgehammers. Molly
begins to count.
