EXT. HOSPITAL PARKING LOT -DAY
Frank and Hamilton walk to Frank’s car. Frank stops and leans on the back of the vehicle.
He seems like a smart guy.
He’s one of the good ones. He’s a very sensitive lad.
What’s his home life like?
He lives with his cousin, in a small house. The cousins British.
His family is rich. Not him.
Frank nods; understanding.
We’re going to need some time to plan, he just needs to hold out for us a little longer.
I’ll watch over him.
Frank walks to his car door, then looks at Hamilton.
He’ll be fine, right?
Hamilton nods. Frank steps into his car, closing the door behind him.
EXT. BAR PARKING LOT- NIGHT
We see Conroy flicking his keys around his finger, walking to his car.
Have you kept him isolated long?
Conroy drops his keys. He reaches down to pick them up.
No, of course not. I felt, with his condition, he didn’t need to be rotting in some Asylum. He’s not a lunatic, he’s just simply...
Conroy grabs the keys from the pavement, then stands. He sees a man in white and red makeup sitting inside his car.
Startled, Conroy jumps back and falls onto the hard pavement.
HAMILTON (V.O. CONT’D)
..... Well, conflicted between reality and imagination. Whatever he’s seeing, he can’t fathom it or understand it. No reason in isolating him.
Conroy tries to stand up, now the man isn’t in the car.
He seems to be gone, as if nonexistent.
Conroy looks around, worried, as if afraid of the worst.
He turns around, and is punched in the jaw by the painted figure!
He collapses on his car then quickly gets inside it!
INT. CONROY’S CAR – NIGHT
Conroy puts the keys in the ignition, the car won’t start.
Conroy keeps turning the key, nothing.
That’s very reasonable. He doesn’t need to be in any isolated areas. Especially an Asylum.
Conroy looks up, seeing only the white paint on the man’s face.
Conroy holds his steering wheel tight, afraid of this man, as if he had seen him before.
The man slowly walks to the driver’s window.
As Conroy looks over to him, he is gone- disappeared, once again.
Conroy looks around the parking lot, petrified in fear.
INT. SMALL HOUSE, DINING ROOM – NIGHT
Frank is holding his phone to his ear.
Trevor Milton, Justin Downings, Marshall Murphy, and Jim Herriot sit at the dining table.
I have to go, Frank. It’s getting late.
Alright, old timer. Goodnight.
Frank hangs up, then walks to the dining table, sitting with his colleagues. We notice many papers lay on the table.
Sorry guys. Had to talk shop. Now where were we?
We were talking about the equipment.
Were gonna need a bigger battery.
You think so?
Just saying, he’s an adult, we’ll need a bigger power source.
Were gonna need uh...
Justin slides a paper closer to him.
.... electric cables.
I figured that much.
May need this too.
Jim passes a paper to Frank, who examines it.
We’ve never used this.
We connect the temple relaxers to this and the battery. Allowing our transference into the patient’s subconscious to be less... Bumpy.
Alright, great. But what about this?
Frank passes a paper to Jim.
That’s supposed to keep our minds intact, so we don’t go insane inside. If it’s switched off, we’re done for.
So, it avoids Jump Madness?
Is that seriously what we’re calling it?
You got any better ideas?
What’s with you and giving everything a title? You the movie voice guy or something?
Fuck you guys.
Everyone but Justin chuckles, who is silent, not amused.
Hey, come on man, laugh it up a little.
Something wrong, Justin?
Justin looks at Frank.
You haven’t offered suggestions, or even spoke to us. What’s going on?
This is ridiculous.
Trevor tries to silence Jim.
This whole thing. We can’t do this, not right away. To prepare for something like this would take months. Years. We are in over our heads on this.
Frank, this is psychotic. It’s one thing helping kids with this, but adults don’t come out of this the same! We haven’t done this in years, you can’t expect us to know exactly what to do now.
That’s why we’re planning ahead-
Oh, you call this planning? We’re not planning, we’re being extra careful so Frank can impress his teacher.
Justin stands out of his chair, gesturing to Frank.
This isn’t the same. We’re not cut out to do this. I mean, look what happened to Amy.
Jim gestures to Frank, who is staring at his fingers.
INT. BEDROOM- FLASHBACK
We see Frank, on his knees, beside a bed, teary eyed. He is holding the hand of a dead woman, who lays on the bed covered in red blood.
INT. SMALL HOUSE, DINING ROOM- NIGHT - PRESENT
Frank stands up, breathing heavily.
Frank leaves the room, quickly. The others look at Justin in disappoint.
Really? You couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut for another second, huh?
INT. SMALL HOUSE, BEDROOM-NIGHT
Frank closes the door behind him, and leans on it.
He slowly slides on the door, sitting down on the ground covering his face, as if wiping sweat from his forehead and cheeks.
EXT. BEACH- MORNING - FLASHBACK
We see Frank and the dead woman from earlier, only living now, holding one another.
Frank rubs his left cheek on hers, holding her from around her waist, behind her.
They are happy.
INT. SMALL HOUSE, BEDROOM- NIGHT - PRESENT
Frank wipes tears from his face, sad, remembering the woman.
EXT. LUKES HOUSE – NIGHT
Conroy steps out of his car, his face is bruised and his cheek is busted.
Luke, his older cousin, is standing outside the door, arms crossed.
Luke is displeased.
Were you at the bar again?
Luke scolds him, disappointed.
Dammit, Leonard! You have a condition; we’ve talked about this.
Conroy walks to him, trying to go inside the house.
Luke stops him – looking at the cuts and bruises.
Jesus, did you get in a fight?
You could say that.
Leonard, Christ, lemme clean that up.
They step inside the house.
INT. LUKE’S HOUSE – NIGHT
Luke puts a large Band-Aid on Conroy’s left eyebrow, and on his cheek.
Who did this?
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
The clown bullshit again? Ah, god.
Luke wipes his face with his palm; Conroy stands up.
He did, he attacked me!
Enough, that’s enough!
Luke, you’ve gotta believe me!
Shut up, just shut up. Come back to reality.
Conroy clenches his fists, scolding at him.
Clowns don’t randomly follow you, Leonard. You’re not insane, I know you better than that.
Luke tries to keep a calm face, his eyes tearing up.
The room becomes silent.
Luke begins to cough loudly, holding his chest, gesturing he has a bad heart condition.
Conroy just looks down. Luke slowly stops coughing, walking to the fridge.
He opened it, then bends down to look for something to drink.
Leonard, I only want what’s best for you. I always have.
Conroy’s face grows grim, as if afraid.
He sees the clown figure again, we still do not see his face, for he is looking at Luke.
Conroy backs up to the corner, frightened.
The clown walks toward Luke, who’s turning around to face Conroy whilst holding milk.
And I try not to be hard on you but-
As he turns, the clown kicks him in the chest- shoving him against the condiments in the fridge! Luke stumbles to the ground, holding his chest as he gargles loudly for breath!
The clown grabs Luke’s collar and forcibly shoves the crease between his thumb and index finger into Luke’s mouth!
Luke struggles, losing his breath!
Conroy covers his eyes, sitting in the corner of the room, trying to hide.
EXT. SMALL HOUSE, BACK PORCH- MORNING
Frank sits outside his house, staring at the pavement.
After a moment, Jim steps out of the house, looking at Frank.
Yeah, I’m fine.
Listen man, I know Justin got out of hand but-
It’s not your fault.
Jim points at the empty chair.
Mind if I?
No, go ahead.
Jim sits in the chair and breaths solemnly.
It’s been a while since I’ve been here.
It has, hasn’t it?
Yeah. How you been holding up here?
Ah, I’m living.
I hear that.
A moment of silence passes.
So, uh, you think you know what you’re doing?
Frank breaths deeply.
Hopefully we won’t make the same mistakes.
I think we can do it.
Confidence is all we need. That and the brains.
We hear a phone ring; Frank reaches in his pocket, and pulls out his cell phone.
He places it to his ear, answering.
Hello? What? Slow down, I can hardly understand you.
Frank’s face becomes an expression of worry.
I’ll be there in a minute.
EXT. LIBRARY PARKING LOT-MORNING
Frank steps out of his car and walks to Hamilton, who is accompanied by Conroy.
Leonard, are you all right? What the hell happened?
The hell you are.
Hamilton turns to Frank.
His cousin died of a violent heat attack two nights ago. I’m taking him to my office.
Conroy grabs Hamilton’s sleeve, looking at him with fear.
H-He won’t find me there, will he?
No, of course not. Go ahead and step in the car, Frank here, will give us a ride.
Conroy rushes to Frank’s car, getting inside it.
What the hell’s going on? Who’s he talking about?
Honestly, I-I don’t know. I just know he’d be safer in my office for now.
There’s too much to explain right now, we need to start the procedure as soon as possible.
No, we can’t do that. We’re not ready.
Well, you’re going to have to be.
Realizing he is not winning this battle; Frank turns his belly.
TWO DAYS. Two more days, and I promise you we will be ready.
Hamilton begins to walk to Frank’s car, but Frank tugs his sleeve.
Is there something you’re not telling me? Are you hiding something from me? Two days from now, it’ll be too late.
Hamilton shakes his head.
I’ve told you everything I know.
Hamilton slowly walks to Frank’s car.
Frank watches him with eyes of uncertainty, thinking there is more to this than what is being shown.
INT. SMALL HOUSE, DINING ROOM- NIGHT
Frank is sitting at the Dining table, drinking from a glass. It is an alcoholic substance. Marshall steps into the dining room, noticing Frank drinking.
What are you drinking?
How old is it?
Just a few years.
Mind if I?
Frank passes him the glass, then grabs a cigarette, lighting it.
Marshall takes a sip from the glass, and then makes a disgusted facial expression, not pleased by the whiskey.
That doesn’t taste very good.
Really? I thought it did.
It doesn’t sit right with me.
He hands the glass to Frank, who blows smoke out of his mouth and into the room.
Tomorrow’s our last day to figure things out.
Marshall looks at the clock; it reads 1:30 A.M.
Damn. Think we’re ready?
I hope we’re ready.
Frank huffs smoke, feeling relaxed.
I didn’t see Justin today, where is he?
He took off. Said he didn’t want any part of this.
Marshall walks into the Kitchen, opening the fridge and examining for a drink to get the whiskey taste out of his mouth.
Good of him to let us know.
EXT. STREET SIDEWALK- NIGHT
Justin walks on the sidewalk, wearing a jacket to keep warm. He notices a soda machine in the distance, and slowly makes his way to it.
He reaches in his pocket, grabbing any change he has left.
We see, in the distance, a clown walking towards him.
He slowly counts his change, then sees the price for each sold: $1.50.
He puts his coins back in disappointment.
As he turns around, the clown shoves him into the soda machine and begins thrusting a sharp object into Justin’s stomach.
After a seemingly endless stabbing motion, Justin stops yelping, slowly falling to the ground as the clown stops.
We still do not see the clown’s face.