by Tyler Moody
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
by Tyler Moody
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
TEASER
INT. MACROWARE OFFICES - JON BATES'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Picking up right where our last episode left off, JON BATES
stands, eyes locked on the man standing across from him,
MITCH PETERSON. Jon is terrified, and for good reason--
Mitch's eyes are GLOWING RED.
This is not the Mitch we've seen before. Instead of his
usual, charmingly dorky slumping posture and demeanor, he now
stands perfectly straight, far more confident than he's ever
been.
JON
You?
MITCH
Me. Me me me me, me.
JON
You're the... what should I call
you, evil mastermind? You're
causing all this... weirdness?
MITCH
Oh, not all of it. But a big
chunk...
(deeply satisfied)
Oh, yes.
JON
Why are you ding this?
Mitch LAUGHS.
MITCH
Jon. My dear old friend. Oh, how
confused you must be. Here you sit,
day after day, in your big chair,
behind your nice desk, while all
the people out there do your work.
(nostalgic)
I was like you, once. Not, you
know, with an office, or anything.
But I was in charge of people.
He looks away, starts pacing back and forth, thinking.
MITCH (CONT'D)
I had my own world. My own entire
world. I was a king. A god! The
Supreme Being in all the land, that
glorious other dimension.
Having come to Jon's wall, he begins touching each of the
individual photos hanging up.
MITCH (CONT'D)
But they-- my "dear" subjects--
didn't like me, very much. Which
seems funny now; when I came here,
everyone liked me. What does that
say about your world, Jon?
(waves his hand)
But that a discussion for another
day. When my subjects decided how
much they didn't like me, do you
know what they did?
He turns back to Jon.
MITCH (CONT'D)
They rose up against me. Defeated
me and my cowardly, useless armies.
Banished me here.
(contemptuous laugh)
Here! In this disgusting form.
He indicates his body with a wave of his hand.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Small and weak and flabby and bald!
They made me bald! And then they
locked the portal back to my world!
(deep, calming breath)
But they didn't realize that I had
a few tricks up my sleeve.
Turning back around, he more closely inspects a particular
photograph-- one of he and Jon, standing in front of the
freshly broken ground of the MacroWare office.
Jon takes advantage of Mitch's lapse of attention to reach
for the shiny silver letter opener on his desk. He quickly
snatches it up and prepares to throw it.
Suddenly Mitch stops, spins toward Jon, and violently jerks
his own arm to the side. GASPING, Jon's arm likewise jerks to
the side, the letter opener flying from his hand.
JON
(stunned)
What-- how did you--
Mitch gives a cruel smile and closes his hand into a fist. At
that same moment Jon's mouth locks shut.
MITCH
Listen to me, and I will explain!
He moves towards Jon, fist clenched.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Unknown to those insulant fools who
banished me here, I still had some
power left. A small amount, but it
was enough to... let's say... fold
reality. To create something I
could use to go back to my home.
And it wasn't some stupid Stargate
thing, either.
Mitch realizes Jon will not get the reference.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Oh, right, you just employ the
nerds. Okay, it's simple. Out of
thin air, I created... this.
He spreads his arms to indicated the MacroWare building.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Out of thin air, I created... you.
Jon can't believe it. He'd gasp, his mouth would drop open in
shock, he'd start denying it, but Mitch keeps his mouth
firmly closed with his fist. Jon's face betrays his confusion
and terror.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Do you know how hard it is to
manufacture forty years of a
person's life down to the smallest
detail and then integrate it into
actual reality? It ain't easy, Jon!
Your first pet. Your first day at
school. The first time you touched
yourself in that "special way".
(tapping his head)
All from here. I guess you could
say, that I am your father.
Mitch relaxes his fist, to allow Jon to speak. Jon's mouth
snaps open.
JON
That's not true!
MITCH
Search your feelings, Luke!
(beat; amused)
Sorry, couldn't resist that one.
JON
You... created me?
(with disgust)
I'm your puppet? Why?
MITCH
(sighing)
I had hoped to avoid this part.
Mitch takes a step closer to Jon.
MITCH (CONT'D)
Simple. When the beta of our new
operating system is released next
week, millions of computers will
download it. And once installed,
the beta will link them all into
one giant super computer- a
computer with enough computational
power to open a string of portals
whose combined gravimetric mass
will punch a hole in this dimension
back to my world.
(beat)
Okay, well, it's not really simple.
JON
(shaking his head)
No. I'll cancel the launch, Mitch.
I'll cancel it, and we'll destroy
the OS and you'll never be able to--
Mitch raises his hand again. Jon freezes, stops talking. His
arms at his sides like a soldier at attention.
MITCH
You aren't going to do any of that,
Jon. Come on. Think, McFly! Do you
really think I'd tell you my master
plan if there was even the
slightest chance of you affecting
its outcome?
(beat)
Oh, wow, I'm just spouting off the
geek-talk today, aren't I?
He spreads his fingers apart like a puppeteer with the
strings. Jon's limbs spread slightly apart to match the
movement.
MITCH (CONT'D)
You're going to do exactly as I
say. Because you can't do anything
else.
With his other hand, Mitch makes the scissors from a game of
Rock, Paper, Scissors. Moving the hand-scissors to the
position under his other hand where the imaginary puppet
strings are, he pantomimes cutting them. Instantly Jon falls
to the ground in a crumpled heap. Mitch kneels down over him.
MITCH (CONT'D)
So, do you see, Jon? I own you.
You're mine. Now, let me tell you
what you're going to do. You're
going to find Corrine, and her
little... friends, and you're going
to convince them to let you join.
And you're going to tell me--
(babytalk:)
Evewy widdle thing they do! Yes you
are! Yes you are!
He grins, baring his teeth. Jon lays on the ground,
expressionless, soaking in his commander's words.
BLACKOUT.
END OF TEASER
ACT ONE
FADE IN:
INT. FRANK'S DINER - MORNING.
VI and TAMSIN enter the diner. FRANK is wiping down the
counter, like usual.
VI
...and he was so funny!
TAMSIN
Wait, funny like the way Mike is,
funny like the way MadTV tries to
be, or funny like a sad clown?
VI
Uh... not any of those. He didn't
tell knock-knock jokes or anything
but he wasn't as sarcastic as Mike
is. He just has a very interesting
way of looking at things.
(beat)
And he's so cute!
Frank looks up at them.
FRANK
What are you ladies talking about?
VI
I had a date last night! Frank, it
was amazing!
She rushes the counter.
VI (CONT'D)
Oh, Frank, he--
FRANK
Whoa! Who's "he"?
VI
Rick, from the bar. Anyway, he was
great! He really likes me and he
told me how great he thinks I am
and I think he's great too! And
we're probably going to go out
again, and we had a really good
time!
(beat)
Except when we got attacked by
vampires, that wasn't very fun.
FRANK
Wait! Vampires?
VI
Yeah, but it's okay. Corrine helped
me kill them.
FRANK
You just happened to run in to
Corrine?
VI
Oh, no, she was at Chucky's, too.
FRANK
Why?
VI
She was on a date with her boss,
that Jon guy.
FRANK
Hmmm.
VI
What?
FRANK
Nothing. Nothing. So you went on a
date with a bartender, huh?
VI
(swooning)
It was magical.
FRANK
(looks into distance)
I knew a bartender, once. Back in,
was it Fiji? Musta been Fiji.
Anyway, what he'd do is, he'd take
women up to his apartment, right?
And tell them all these sweet
stories about how they were meant
to be together. And then they'd
have sex, you know, and she'd wake
up in a tub of ice in a back alley,
missing a kidney. Just stole the
kidneys right out of women.
(looks back at Vi)
So, you know, be careful.
Vi looks to Tamsin, who laughs lightly and shrugs.
VI
You're not going to ruin this for
me. I'm going upstairs to lay in
bed with my happy.
She hurries upstairs before Frank can bring her down anymore.
Tamsin sits at the counter across from Frank.
TAMSIN
(amused)
What was that?
FRANK
What?
TAMSIN
Were you trying to scare her away
from that boy?
FRANK
Ridiculous.
He begins scrubbing the bar furiously.
TAMSIN
Aww, you're being protective! Big
ol' Papa Bear, trying to keep the
cubs safe.
FRANK
Shut up.
TAMSIN
Oh, I think it's sweet.
Frank swats at her with his cloth as MIKE and LON descend the
stairs, laughing. Lon has his arm around Mike but as soon as
he sees the other two downstairs he draws it back.
LON
Hello, you two...
TAMSIN
Hello, you two, yourself.
FRANK
You're here early, Lon.
(jokingly)
What did you do, spend the night?
Lon turns to Mike for help, but Mike just crosses his arms
and grins.
LON
Of course not! I did go home, but
then I... came back.
FRANK
("tell me more")
Obviously.
LON
It was, uh, to help Mike with his
schoolwork.
TAMSIN
What do you know about art?
LON
I know quite a bit about art, thank
you very much!
Mike sits down at the counter.
MIKE
Where's Vi? I want to get the scoop
on her date with hunky-ab-man.
FRANK
She went upstairs. You must have
just missed her.
TAMSIN
Frank got all father-like.
Lon looks relieved that the conversation has shifted away
from him.
MIKE
Do tell!
TAMSIN
He was very grumpy about this
bartender boy. Don't trust them, he
was saying. I could see it in his
eyes.
LON
(too bitter)
Ah, fathers. Is there no moment
they can't ruin?
He sits down beside Mike. Tamsin gives him a pained look, a
"Don't go there, please," look. Lon turns away from her.
FRANK
Look, okay? I was not being
"fatherly." I was just trying to
make sure she didn't get her heart
broken by some leather jacket
wearing Fonzie wannabe.
Mike reaches over the counter and pats Frank's arm.
MIKE
It's okay, big guy. We won't tell
anyone you have emotions... and no
new pop culture references since
1979.
He pulls away from Frank and entwines his hand with Lon's,
which is resting on the counter top. Lon squeezes for a
second, but then freezes and turns to Mike, scared. Mike
realizes his mistake and jerks his hand back immediately,
jumping up as if he just touched a hot stove. He looks around
to see if anyone noticed.
Frank is, of course, oblivious, waging a war with a smidgen
of grime, unnoticeable to anyone else, on his counter. But
Tamsin has her eyebrow raised, having clearly caught scent.
She opens her mouth to speak but Mike quickly interrupts her.
MIKE (CONT'D)
(standing)
Well, I'd better get upstairs. Get
ready for class.
LON
Bye.
TAMSIN
(teasing)
Good bye.
Frank GRUNTS as Mike goes upstairs. Tamsin smiles to herself
as we:
FADE TO:
EXT. HEAVEN'S GATE PUBLIC PARK - AFTERNOON
Lon sits on a park bench, reading a newspaper. PIGEONS mill
about at his feet. He tilts the paper down and glares.
LON
Shoo.
(beat)
Go away.
(another beat)
Ridiculous creatures.
Mike VAULTS over the bench, landing in a seated position
beside Lon.
MIKE
Hey. Whatcha doin'?
LON
You're late. And nothing. These...
birds won't leave me alone.
MIKE
Aww, they think you're Mary
Poppins.
LON
Well, it is very annoying.
The two sit in new-couple silence for a moment.
MIKE
Why'd you freak this morning?
LON
You almost gave everything away!
MIKE
No one caught on. And you acted
like I stabbed your man-tackle with
a fork.
Lon grimaces.
LON
Must you always be so crude?
MIKE
I ain't dainty.
LON
We just have to be more careful in
the future, is all.
MIKE
By "we" you mean me.
LON
Well. Yes. Actually.
Mike rolls his head back over the bench.
MIKE
You know, this sneaking around was
fun for a while, but it's getting
old.
LON
But we agreed. The team--
MIKE
I think the team can handle it.
It's you who has the problem.
Lon frowns.
MIKE (CONT'D)
You seriously need to lighten up,
babe. Why cant's you just leave the
three-piece in the closet and relax
every once in a while?
Lon grins ruefully and glances off into the distance.
FADE TO:
INT. TRAVERS HOUSE - STUDY - DAY
A YOUNG LON sits in chair in the study, playing a SONG on the
VIOLIN. He is very concentrated on the song, as he plays the
beautiful piece of music with the talent of someone many
years his senior.
MALE VOICE (O.S.)
Lon! Lon?!
TITLE OVER: 1987.
QUENTIN TRAVERS enters the study, looking around.
QUENTIN
Ah, Lon. Don't you listen?
But Lon doesn't seem to hear, or if he does he doesn't
acknowledge. He's focused on playing.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
(shouting)
Lon!
He reaches out and RIPS the violin from Lon's hands. Lon
looks up, outraged.
YOUNG LON
What the--
But the boy's anger quickly fades to something more akin to
fear as he realizes who he's speaking to.
YOUNG LON (CONT'D)
(meekly)
Oh. Er. Hello, father.
QUENTIN
How many times do I have to call
you, boy?
YOUNG LON
I'm sorry, I didn't hear you.
QUENTIN
That much is obvious. Who could
hear anyone over this racket?
He waves the violin about by the neck to demonstrate his
point. Lon winces at the rough treatment of the instrument.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
And selective hearing is not all
this thing has caused, is it?
YOUNG LON
I don't know what you mean.
QUENTIN
I got a report from your school.
He stands up, begins pacing, the angry dad schtick. Lon
frowns.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
Imagine my surprise when I learned
that you were not, in fact,
excelling in all your classes as I
was led believed.
Lon does not seem to attempt to imagine.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
Imagine further my surprise when I
asked for your tests so I could see
for myself the work you were doing
in school.
Quentin reaches into his jacket's inside pocket and removes a
folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and passes it to Lon.
ANGLE ON the paper. It's one of Lon's tests. He did not do
well-- red correction marks cover the page and it's obvious
he failed. CIRCLED IN RED is a very short musical SCORE.
Lon's been composing instead of caring about math.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
What, pray tell, is that?
He indicates the circled score.
YOUNG LON
(beat; reluctantly)
I'm... sorry.
QUENTIN
(mockingly)
Sorry? Oh, well, that changes
everything. This failing mark
magically disappears now that
you're sorry.
Quentin tosses the test into the roaring fireplace.
QUENTIN (CONT'D)
Not only has your schoolwork
suffered, so have your...
alternative studies. You haven't
studied your demon languages all
week. Your books are literally
covered in dust.
LON
They're old books, they're always
covered in--
Quentin gives Lon a stern eye. Lon hangs his head, shameful--
or angry.
QUENTIN
There will be no more frivolous
musical training, do you
understand? Not until you can prove
to me that you can handle a...
hobby with all of your other
duties.
He takes the violin with him as he leaves the room. When the
door SLAMS behind him, Lon covers his face wit his hands and
begins to sob.
FADE TO:
INT. MACROWARE OFFICES - JON BATES'S OFFICE - AFTERNOON
CORRINE sits in her usual place, across the desk from Jon.
They're mid-discussion. Possibly talking about their date?
JON
I really think I should meet them.
CORRINE
I understand, Jon, but it's really
not my place.
So, not talking about their date.
JON
I know, I know. It's just--
(sighs)
I can't sit here now with the
knowledge that I have. It's too
much...
(shaking his head)
I can't explain it.
CORRINE
(gently)
I understand. I felt the same way,
when I found out. It's like sitting
around doing nothing, while out
there--
(motions out the window)
--monsters and mutants are killing
human beings in the dark, is just
as bad as helping them.
Jon nods, silent, eyes sunken. Corrine looks away.
CORRINE (CONT'D)
I couldn't take it. I wasn't strong
enough, so I walled that part of
myself off.
(beat)
I'm sorry I pushed you away, Jon.
He gives Corrine a bittersweet smile. He shakes his head.
JON
No, Corrine. Don't blame yourself.
I let you push me away. I should
have been there for you. I should
have--
Corrine reaches across the desk and puts her hands on top of
Jon's.
CORRINE
We've both made mistakes. Maybe we
can put them behind us and move on.
Together.
Jon smiles. He turns his hands to hold hers. Corrine smiles
warmly in return.
CORRINE (CONT'D)
Okay. I'll take you.
JON
Take me?
CORRINE
To meet the team.
She stands up. He rises too, ever the gentleman.
JON
Thank you.
CORRINE
No problem. After work?
JON
Sure. Yeah.
Corinne nods, smiles, and walks out the door. As the door
comes SWINGING CLOSED, we catch a glimpse of Mitch sitting in
the outer office, STARING INTENTLY at Jon.
The door CLOSES. Jon collapses in his chair, head bowed in
his hands.
BLACKOUT.
END OF ACT ONE
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.