Mews should play ZANE in this script

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: On A Pale Horse : FADE IN: : INT. ZANE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT : We are drifting toward a LIGHT at the end of a long, dark TUNNEL. Something like “Ride On” by AC-DC is playing through opening TITLES. : We then recognize the LIGHT source as a BARE LIGHT BULB in a sparse apartment as we emerge from a HAND GUN laying on the coffee table beside a few scattered, worthless, COINS. A sad young slacker, ZANE, twenty-six, picks up the pistol and sinks to the floor. : WIND BLOWS a crumpled EVICTION NOTICE from a GARBAGE bin. : It startles Zane. He looks to it with a hollow laugh, as if relieved, and points the gun to his lead. : The muzzle is in his right ear. His finger tenses, moving from handle to trigger guard. . . Presses guard. : Apartment DOOR CREEKS OPEN. Zane looks. : Nobody there. Zane turns to BLANK WALL opposite him. : Finger finds TRIGGER. : SPECTER of DEATH FLASHES, standing in the open doorway. : : Zane glances, toppling back, startled, hand shooting up, FIRING a reflex BLAST. : Death’s non-reflective black form THUDS to the FLOOR, and reveals a SPLATTER of BLOOD on the wall. : Death’s head hits the floor, his HOOD withdrawn, with a dazed HUMAN FACE, his forehead gushing red. : Zane staggers to his feet, mouth agape, gun shaking. : A middle-aged lady, LACHESIS, steps up beside him-- : LACHESIS : Excellent. : Zane flinches from her, hugging the gun to his chest. : LACHESIS : You shall now assume the office. : He who kills Death becomes Death. : Zane drops the pistol onto the sofa. : Lachesis glides over to the fallen Death. : ZANE : You’re working for my landlord. : He changes the locks again, I’ll : see him in court. : Lachesis stoops to grab Death’s cloak and beckons Zane-- : LACHESIS : We don’t have excessive time, and : we don’t want to get blood on the : uniform. Now lift. : Zane reluctantly obeys, touches the corpse, and lifts. : . . .Then suddenly lets the body DROP-- : ZANE : Who the fuck are you? : Lachesis busily works the cloak off of body with a huff-- : LACHESIS : At the moment, I am Lachesis. : I determine the length of the threads. : : ZANE : . . .Cheeses? : LACHESIS : You will not learn very much if you : interrupt. Now get his shoes. : I am the middle aspect of Fate. : Zane crouches, working on the shoes. : They’re invulnerable to heat, cold, : penetration, radiation, water. . . : as is the cloak. : Zane stands, kicks off ratty sneakers, and steps into the new black shoes. : LACHESIS : You must always be properly garbed : when making a collection. Your : predecessor was careless. Had he : closed that hood across his face. . . : Zane looks down at her and the previous Death. : Lachesis turns over the body. : It’s face now resembles that of Zane, with a BULLET HOLE from EAR to FOREHEAD. : LACHESIS : It is very important that you : perform better as Death than you : have as a living person. : MOMENTS LATER, the PISTOL remains lying on the sofa. : Zane sets it aside to sit down, fully decked out now as the Grim Reaper. He rests his chin on what appear to be bony hands. He gasps, recoiling from them. : Lachesis picks up the gun and sets it aside onto the coffee table, and sits beside Zane, in mid-conversation-- : LACHESIS : . . .A few souls are in balance, : equal good and evil; and tend to cling : to their familiar housing. These are : the ones who need your assistance. : ZANE : But I don’t even know where to : locate my. . .clients. : LACHESIS : There should be an instruction manual : somewhere. Mortis can help you. : ZANE : Who is Mortis? : : INT. DEATHMOBILE : White upholstery, white dash, black steering wheel of a Classic Ford Mustang muscle car. Zane fumbles the unlocked door and climbs into driver’s seat. He touches the steering wheel and notices FLASHING of the DEATHWATCH on his left wrist. Zane flinches at this. : Time: 8:05 PM. RED sweep hand is moving counter-clockwise. SECONDS are marked by mini INSET DIAL on the left, opposite day-time windows on right. Thirty-minute dial just below the noon spot CLICKS BACK from nine to eight. The watch BLINKS more intensely, with a soft BEEPING NOISE. : Zane looks to GLOVE COMPARTMENT, STEERING WHEEL, and raises his palms in confusion. He pats himself for a key, then feels for IGNITION at the wheel. : A simple touch SWITCH on the dashboard is marked ON/ OFF. : It GLOWS just enough to catch Zane’s eye. : He presses it, and the car HUMS to life. The front PANEL lights up, RADIO comes on, seat HARNESS clasps him. : Zane grips the wheel, for support, like an amusement park ride. Deathwatch switches from SIX to FIVE minutes. : His foot searches for and finds the GAS PEDAL. : EXT. DEATHMOBILE and APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT : The white mustang, MORTIS, backs up, stopping millimeters from us at the curb. The glimpsed license plate reads: MORTIS. But what we’re focused on right now is a bumper sticker which says: DEATH IS NATURE’S WAY OF TELLING YOU TO SLOW DOWN. Mortis smoothly zips away into the small street, weaving through a trickle of TRAFFIC. : : INT. DEATHMOBILE - NIGHT : There is a SMEAR of lights and activity rushing by the window. Zane feels the wheel move in his hands and lets go. The car is driving itself. Zane feels his heart. : His hand feels something there. From an inner pocket of : the cloak, he brings out a BRACELET with a broken band. : Three prominent JEWELS are set into it: an orange-yellow CAT’S EYE, a green GRINDSTONE with a LIGHT imperfection and a DARK imperfection sitting amid a grid. In the middle is a pink stone with a line and an ARROWHEAD POINT. . . The arrow TURNS. : : EXT. STREET - NIGHT : Slowed, the Deathmobile turns a corner and parks improperly. : Zane wanders out, eyes on his bracelet, using it as a compass, passing a parking meter which reads: EXPIRED. : Zane looks up from his compass bracelet, stopping in the middle of an intersection where a small TRUCK and a tiny Japanese SUBCOMPACT have had a violent collision. : Zane looks in at the TRUCK DRIVER, then down to compass. : The ARROW is pointing AWAY FROM the truck. : Zane turns slightly to find a WOMAN in the subcompact wreck. He winces, then approaches. : A sliver of WINDSHIELD GLASS is in her neck, BLOOD is gushing, but she is not dead. CARS are heard SCREECHING. : The woman’s glazed eyes notice Zane, widening. She tries to scream. A whimper comes out. : Lachesis brushes Zane’s elbow-- : LACHESIS : She must remain in terrible agony : until you take her soul. She and : all the others trying to die. : Don’t torture her, Death. Finish it. : The dying woman’s blank eyes REGISTER, tracking. . . : HER POINT OF VIEW: Zane approaches, face hidden from us now by a SKULL FACE, and reaches for her amid a BLACK LIMBO. : Her eyes CLOSE, restful, as Zane’s white-gloved HAND hooks out a COB-WEB or SOAP-BUBBLE film from her head. : : Across the street, at Mortis, Zane is trying to shake the web-bubble from his hand like a clinging bit of spittle. : Lachesis stops in her tracks, mouth agape. : Zane tries to scrape it off using the bracelet. The film tears, clinging to other hand. : LACHESIS : Death! Death, Death, Death. Stop! : That’s her soul you’re brutalizing. : The silken strand SNAPS FREE. Zane steps back against the car, shaken-- : ZANE : I’m sorry. God, it looks like snot. : LACHESIS : Fold the soul, pack it in your pouch, : and go on to the next client. When : you have a break in the schedule, : analyze the soul. : : ZANE : For what? Where does it go? : LACHESIS : Heaven or Hell, generally. : ZANE : Trust me, Le Cheese. . . : I’m no judge of that. : LACHESIS : Laches-iss. And you are now. : Zane carefully folds the soul, using the hood of the car to flatten it, and gently puts it onto a zip-lock bag. : He looks back to Lachesis. She is gone. : Zane rounds the car, not noticing a small SPIDER crawling : up and away on a small strand of silk nearby. : INT. DEATHMOBILE : Zane sits there sulking. He takes out the SOUL of the woman, lit by the GLARE of oncoming HEADLIGHTS. : It has patterns of TRANSPARENCY and BLACKNESS. : Zane sets it aside, reaching for the glove compartment. : Several STONES are inside. He takes out two that are gently FLASHING, half-rounded, polished hemispheres. One is dull BROWN, the other dull YELLOW. : Zane sets their flat surfaces together to form a sphere. : He separates them, lays out the folded soul on the passenger seat, and slides each half across it. : He holds up the halves. Now one is bright WHITE and the other is solid BLACK. He fits them together again. : The cleavage MORPHS into a YING-YANG TAO symbol. : Zane lets go of it and it hovers for a moment. : It slowly rises to the ceiling, and Zane sighs in relief. : A few BUOYANT BALLS join it, escaping from the glove compartment. : Zane snatches up the others, returning them, grabbing a roll of Scotch tape as he stuffs back all but one. : He gently folds the soul, tapes it onto a buoyant ball, and winds down his window. The soul rises up and away. : Zane finds the merges stones now separated on the seat beside him, brown and yellow again. : He tucks them back into the glove compartment, careful the smaller balls won’t escape. : Zane’s WATCH FLASHES again. : : EXT. AUSTRALIAN MOUNTAIN COTTAGE - MORNING : An angry middle-aged woman SHEILA, clutches a colored : VIAL of liquid, glances to a framed picture of her smiley HUSBAND and herself, and a MAGAZINE cover on the table, showing same smiley guy with arm around a TEENAGE GIRL. : To teach him a lesson, she tips back poison in one gulp. : She smacks her lips over the bitter taste and : turns to a COOKIE JAR on the table. : Zane steps up behind the counter. He picks up the jar-- : ZANE : Take an antidote. Let’s talk. : : Sheila runs out the door. : : Take it! Imagine his girlfriend : consoling him at your funeral. : Sheila returns, takes a black fluid vial from cupboard, and chugs it. She grabs q cookie from the jar in Zane’s hand and munches, drinking the rest of the vial. : Better? : Sheila nods, but keeps her eyes down. : Now find a gun or a knife. : Now she looks at him like he’s an idiot. : I want you to kill me. : SHEILA : What do you think I am? : : EXT. AUSTRALIAN MOUNTAIN COTTAGE : Sheila SHOVES Zane out the door and into the dirt-- : SHEILA : Get your ass outta here, Death. : Crazy bastard. : Zane fumbles to his feet and backs off. : : EXT. STADIUM PARKING LOT - NIGHT : Zane parks Mortis in a handicapped spot. : INT. STADIUM : Zane is sitting in the STANDS. A CROWD is doing “the wave.” Zane misses it, but gets it on the return. : An official WHISTLE is HEARD. The spectators sit, cringing at whatever violence may be typical in sport : (which is best left implied, rather than the fanciful, : expensive sport invented for the novel). : Zane follows their gazes, winces, and edges past to the stairs, presumably resuming his duties-- : ZANE : Excuse me, thanks, excuse me. . . : : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE - NIGHT : A FENCE of iron SPIKES. An affluent suburban estate. : Two lean GRIFFINS patrol, cross-breed of eagle and lion. : They spread their wings, protecting the front door. : CLAWS spring out. A screaming GROWL starts. : Zane stands on the front walk, the Death car behind him. : He draws the cloak around him and holds up a long, curving SHAFT with two PEGS on it. : He grips it by these, and a massive, gleaming BLADE snaps out. It’s a switch-blade scythe! : The griffins part. : Zane looks out through narrow opening of hood, relieved. : He steps up to the door, holds up a fist to knock, then decides to let himself in. : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE : An old robed man in an easy chair, the MAGICIAN KAFTAN. : KAFTAN : Stay your hand a moment, Death. : Zane shuts the door, and folds up the scythe-- : ZANE : I’m running late. : He glances at watch. It BEGINS FLASHING as if in answer. : KAFTAN : I am the Magician Kaftan. You will not : recognize the name. Magic hides my. . . : ZANE : Huh? : Zane steps closer hooking his finger at the man. : KAFTAN : Stop your watch for five minutes. : In return, I proffer you the : dominant option on the love of : my daughter. You remain a man : . . .behind the mask. : ZANE : What kind of a man would prostitute : his daughter for a few minutes : more life to chat with Death? : KAFTAN : Five minutes, no more. : Zane punches STOP on the DEATHWATCH. : ZANE : There’s a timer on this thing. : The Magician taps a gnarled finger on his arm rest, like pressing a button. A small BELL clangs. : KAFTAN : There is a complex plot afoot that : affects my daughter, Luna Kaftan. : Zane does a double-take. There is a naked young lady, LUNA KAFTAN, who has just entered. From what we can see at a distance she is slender and pretty with a bathing cap which might make her look relatively plain at first. : LUNA : What is it, Father? : KAFTAN : I have offered your love to : this person, Luna. : LUNA : What person? : KAFTAN : You can see him if you try. He is : the new Death. : LUNA : Death? So soon? : Zane looks away, embarrassed. : KAFTAN : I shall go with him shortly, but : I wanted you to meet him before I : give him the love potion with : your name on it. : LUNA : But I’m not even dressed. : KAFTAN : Then dress. I wish you to make an : impression so he will desire you. : LUNA (exiting) : As you wish, Father. : Kaftan turns his face up toward Zane again-- : KAFTAN : I have protected her hitherto, : but I shall no longer be able. : Therefore, I am asking you. : ZANE : I thought you were offering me : sex with her in exchange for : five minutes of my time. : KAFTAN : It is a barbed offer, of course. : If you accept the bait, you will : find yourself emotionally committed. : ZANE : As Death, I can only do a thing you : wouldn’t want for your daughter. : As a man, I’m even less qualified. : KAFTAN : As a man, true, you are unremarkable. : I believe you are going to grow into : the office and become what you : presently are not. I was the one : who persuaded Fate to arrange your : placement at that office. : ZANE : How can I guard anyone? I’m Death. : KAFTAN : You are uniquely qualified in that. : Luna enters, now clothed, stopping Zane’s protest. : With make-up, chestnut brown hair down to her shoulders, : Luna seems more beautiful than while naked. In theory. : Saturn-stone earrings project colored rings on her shoulders, green slippers are shaped like a Luna moth, a chain with a MOONSTONE dangles between her breasts. : LUNA : Shall I dance for you? : ZANE : I don’t believe it. : LUNA : Well you should. You saw me nude. : ZANE : It’s just that. . .You’re for me? : KAFTAN : Oh, she is no gift. Luna has to : be won. : Zane slouches, pacing away, a burst bubble. Typical. : KAFTAN : And the winning is not straight-forward. : What you get is the first option to : compete. : ZANE : If I could compete, I wouldn’t be : here. I’d have a girlfriend and : a real job. I can’t compete. : KAFTAN : The Love-stone is here. : He indicates a small BLUE GEM on the table beside him. : Zane shakes his head no. : LUNA (half-hearted) : This is not your common locator stone. : This one compels love. Merely hold : it and look at the woman you desire : and she will be instantly afflicted : with overwhelming passion for you. : KAFTAN : You don’t find these on sale in : little knick-knack shops. : Zane eyes the stone, tempted, then-- : : ZANE : Thanks, no. : Kaftan shifts in his chair, looking to his daughter. : She gives him an apologetic look. : He holds up his palm with a dismissive wave. : She relaxes, knowing he does not think any less of her. : KAFTAN : I must proceed. The spell that extends : my life beyond its appointed time is : weakening, and I dare not use another. : ZANE : Aren’t you a powerful magician? : KAFTAN : Magic is addictive, and often damning. : White magic is generally harmless, but : it can lead stage by stage to more potent : black magic, which gradually corrupts : the user. All serious practitioners : employ black magic, because of its : versatility and power. I have used : more than enough to damn me to Hell. : ZANE : But you are in balance or I would : not have been summoned, Kaftan. : KAFTAN : Technically true. This was the only : way possible without alerting the : Unmentionable. : ZANE : The D. . . : Kaftan holds up his palm with absolute authority. : KAFTAN : Do not utter the name, for he is : attuned to it. Once I talk to you, : my fate hardly matters. We had to : seem to meet in the normal course, : to avoid suspicion. : ZANE : How can I help you if I don’t know : what you want? : KAFTAN : I have told you what I want. : My daughter’s salvation. : Zane glances at the Love-stone, to Luna, then shakes off the thought and crouches beside Kaftan-- : ZANE : What do you really want? : KAFTAN : I want what every half-way decent : person wants, the belief my life has : in some small way benefited the : cosmos. My use of black magic has : so weighted my soul that my daughter : has had to assume a share of my evil : in order to put me in technical balance. : Now she, too, is in peril. But she : should have time to redeem herself : if our ploy is successful. : During the last line, Zane’s wrist has begun BEEPING. He slaps off the timer. : He steps up to Kaftan, reaching. Luna dives between them, leaning over the magician-- : LUNA : It’s time, Father. I’ll never : know your equal. : She kisses Kaftan’s forehead. : Zane has backed off, slouching, turned away. : Luna crosses past him-- : LUNA : Death, bring thy sting. : Zane steps away, out of frame, and returns with the : soul, folding it gently. : If he’s going to Heaven or he’ll : be safe in Purgatory, would it : help you to know? His balance? : Luna turns to face him. : I could check right here if you like. : Zane takes the separate gems out of his pocket. : He motions for her to turn around and he spreads the soul on her back as a table and rubs the flat stones across it. He folds up the soul. : Luna turns to see the Tao ball hovering safely. : ZANE : Safe. Purgatory it is. : LUNA : It’s like you flipped a coin. : Disappointed, Zane tucks soul into his bag and snatches the hovering ball-- : ZANE : Typical. : He is leaving. Luna catches up at the door-- : LUNA : My father made an agreement with you. : I will honor it with or without the : Lovestone. Come this way. : She walks toward the doorway through which she had entered. : Zane glances after her, pausing at the door-- : ZANE : Your father has just. . . How can : you think of. . .a thing like that? : LUNA : Because I respect his judgement. : Also, I put on a gem that : eliminates grief. I will mourn : in measured stages. But my grief : is my problem, not yours. : ZANE : I’m not saying I’m a good man, : or even a passable Death. Mostly : I’ve taken what I could get. : But I once threw away a great chance : to love and marry a. . . sorry, : that’s my problem not yours. : : LUNA : Fate arranged that loss, at my : father’s behest. It wasn’t : your fault. : Luna steps up closer, even more stunning-- : But I understand how you feel. : I could use the Lovestone on you, : so your own hang-ups will dissipate. : Zane’s throat clicks. He coughs to distract. : He steps back to the door, squirming. : ZANE : I’ll just leave you to your grief. : He opens the door. : LUNA : Would you settle for a date? : ZANE : If I start seeing a woman of your : quality, I’ll start wanting too much. : LUNA : You can have too much. : ZANE : No, I mean Death should not be : distracted. : LUNA : Then come when you’re off duty. : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE : Zane leaves the house, distracted. The griffins SQUEAL as he almost steps on them. : They griffins scuffle out of the way and growl as he passes into the night. : DEATHMOBILE. Zane sits inside, his attention caught by a chess piece HORSE HEAD on the dash. : Zane presses it. The HORSE LOGO dissolves to the : . . .PROFILE of an actual HORSE. FRAME ADJUSTS to : reveal Zane astride, stroking a silvery mane in surprise. : : EXT. BEACH - DAWN : A DROWNING MAN flops into the sand, soaking wet. Legs : of Mortis the Horse trot past. The man squints, : catching his breath, looking up at his rescuers. : Zane and Mortis shake off water from a dark sleeve and mane, a SUNRISE glittering across the ocean behind them. : : INT. PHOENIX HOSPITAL - DAY : An abandoned information desk. Zane strides past a sign : proclaiming VISITING HOURS and walks down the corridor. : He enters a private room, using his bracelet as a : compass. He stops short, more pale than usual. : His CLIENT is a gruff, suffering man with TUBES and : apparatus connected in awkward ways. : Zane takes a deep breath and steps up to the bed. : ZANE : Hello. : An ECHO comes from an earring in his vest pocket. He : takes it out, looking at it-- : Hello, hello, bonjour? : ECHO : Hello, hello, hello. : He fumbles the piece at his un-pierced ear lobe, then : just stuffs it into his ear. : CLIENT : About time you got here, Death. : I was afraid I’d never get out : of this prison. : ZANE : This hospital? It seems nice. : CLIENT : This body. Science nor magic will : abate the pain anymore, not without : dulling my intellect. I hope you : are competent. : : Zane picks up the CHART hanging at the foot of the bed, : flipping through it, reading it-- : ZANE : You don’t have to die. : Zane glances at his watch and walks out fidgeting with : it. The client gapes at the empty door, horrified. : CLIENT : (beginning to sob) : No. That leaves taxes as the : only certainty. Please! : Zane wanders down the hall, orienting on another room. : INT. TAD’S ROOM : TAD is a fifteen-year-old boy sitting up in bed with : cancer. Zane enters, noticing a LIVING WITH CANCER : pamphlet on a guest chair. Last client’s SOBS are heard. : TAD’S VOICE : Gee – Halloween! A Skull-face! : Zane turns, startled. : Are you a doctor? : ZANE : Not exactly. : TAD : I’m Tad. You’re here to give me a : shot and you’re afraid I’ll scream. : ZANE : No shot. : Zane takes out his flat stones. : TAD : Let me guess, then. You’re maybe a : bill collector? My Dad handles that. : I bet these happiness spells are : costing him a bundle, but I still : get sometimes depressed. He should : use the spells on himself. I wish : I could stop costing him so much. : Zane passes stones over Tad while he is intact. : ZANE : Still go to school? : TAD : I’ve been missing a lot and I don’t : want to repeat a grade. I had a B : average. All my friends will be : moving up, and I’d look pretty silly. : ZANE : How would you look riding up on : a good pale horse? : Zane lets glow-ball go. It quickly thumps the ceiling. : TAD : What is that? What are those? : ZANE : You are ninety percent good. : There’s been a mistake. : TAD : You mean I’m not going to die? : ZANE : Well, yes. But I shouldn’t have : been summoned. What’s the reason? : TAD : Maybe I just needed someone to talk to. : Ashamed, Zane tucks away the flat stones and lets the ball stay on the ceiling. He pats Tad’s head and exits. : : EXT. SWEDISH FARM HOUSE - WINTER - DAY : The Deathwatch reads ONE MINUTE to spare. The CAT’S EYE is large and the ARROW POINTS to a decrepit BUILDING. : Zane steps away from Mortis. We hear SCREAMING in Swedish. Zane peeks in through a side window. : An OLDER SWEDISH COUPLE blunder sleepily about. A YOUNGER MAN is pacing, defending himself. : His WIFE sits on a bed, struggling to put on stockings. : INT. FARM HOUSE : Zane’s black shoes step around a RAT on the floor. : The wife is an otherwise appealing woman in poor health with scrapes and bruises from violence. : Zane sees a RED GASH on the woman’s leg. He holds up his compass. The arrow is pointing east, away from her. : Zane pivots and freezes. What he sees is a BABY’S CRIB. : EXT. FARM HOUSE : Zane returns to the horse, numb, a TINY SOUL folded in his fingers. He stops and leans against Mortis as he tucks the soul into a zip-lock bag. : ZANE : I can’t do this anymore. : : INT. DEATHMOBILE : The gem ball is hovering beside Zane as he remains parked in front of the Farm House. : Zane pokes a finger up under the sphere to nudge the baby soul up. It corrects, hovering back into place. : Zane’s Deathwatch FLASHES. Frustrated, he randomly swats at it’s workings, pressing a ZEROING button. : He plucks the hovering gem-ball and it comes apart in his hands. He slumps. : CHRONOS’ VOICE : Intensified Original sin. : Zane starts, noticing the man who has taken the passenger seat. CHRONOS is fifty-ish with a moustache and goatee and piercing blue eyes with a gravelly, sandy voice-- : ZANE : Who. . . ? : CHRONOS : I am Chronos, colloquially known as : Time. : He tilts a small HOURGLASS. Fine SAND shifts between the cones. : ZANE : Did I. . . Was it the watch? : CHRONOS : You summoned me, Death. Locking the : countdown on ten minutes. Ordinarily, : you either freeze the timer where it is : or reset it to gain travel time; to do : both is code. : ZANE : Just finding out how the watch worked. : CHRONOS : You have taken a baby. Her soul: gray. : It’s a shock. It happens a lot. Why? : Children conceived in evil: incest, rape, : and so forth, do not come into the world : with a clean slate. : ZANE : A baby can’t choose the : circumstances of her conception. : CHRONOS : Unfortunately, we just work here. : ZANE : Where do I take the baby soul? : Any soul in technical balance. : How do I get to Purgatory? : CHRONOS : That is the place. You reside there. : ZANE : It better be sweet. : CHRONOS (clears throat) : The hours dial records your schedule : backlog. Your program is on hold. : You can even halt the passage of all : time by pulling out the center button. : But if you maintain the hold by more : than half an hour, it will register on : the hours dial as a tardy schedule. : If you run more than twelve hours late, : over-flowing the capacity of the watch, : there will be an investigation by the : authorities at Purgatory that could : hurt your performance rating. : ZANE : What happens if my rating is bad? : CHRONOS : It counts as evil on your soul. : Zane looks away to the windshield, and finally nods okay. : ZANE : My predecessor. Where did his soul go? : CHRONOS : He had done an adequate job. I’m sure : he found his way to Heaven, which is : the last refuge of adequacy. : Zane cranes his neck, finally noticing BILLBOARDS and ads for Hell which dominate surrounding areas, featuring cute little spokes-demons with pitch forks, DEE and DEE. : One shows them reacting to a PRETTY GIRL in a bikini. : Another shows Dee and Dee recline on a beach with shades. : CHRONOS (shrugs) : Decent people have to let the indecent : people do their thing. : ZANE : Satan has a right to advertise? : Zane winces at his mistake, uttering the name. : CHRONOS : That’s the paradox of decency. : SATAN’S VOICE : Is it worth it? : Zane turns to the back seat. Satan is behind him, a : red-haired man, his complexion dark with a red tinge, with two small HORNS projecting from his temples-- : SATAN : Speak of the Devil. . . : Zane looks to passenger seat, and Chronos is now gone. : Zane sits back into place, not looking at Satan. The Devil’s hand shoots over his shoulder, offering a shake-- : SATAN : I realize you’re new and we’ll be : working together. : Polite, Zane gives a quick shake, then thinks aloud-- : ZANE : Together? : Satan withdraws hand, fingers drumming on seat back-- : SATAN : We incarnations try to help each : other out whenever possible. : Zane narrows eyes into slits, suspicious despite his : fear of confronting this visitor. Satan reassures on-- : : I find some people just see me as : an office. I don’t think of you as : a number. I prefer to meet the person. : ZANE : You don’t know me already? : SATAN : Oh, I know you, Zane. But my : reputation precedes me. : He drums his hand on the back of the passenger seat now. : Anything you need, women, fatherly : advice. . . or motherly advice, : give me a shout. : Zane yawns and looks out at the road ahead, reaching to press the dashboard chess-piece horse head logo button. : Zane straightens up, sitting astride Mortis again, with Satan mounted behind him. : SATAN : Look, don’t let me interrupt. You : need rest. More pale than usual. : Zane reins Mortis, who bucks up on hind legs. : Satan falls off, without hitting the ground. : Mortis lands, and Zane glances back. There is only a wisp of SMOKE hanging in the air where Satan had been. : Zane pats Mortis, and the horse gallops off. : Zane reins Mortis, pausing a block away, looking back. He leans to the horse’s ear, stroking Mortis’ mane-- : ZANE : Have you got a favorite pasture : where you graze? Take me there. : : EXT. PASTURE - PURGATORY - DAY : Lush green plain of grass. A GINKO TREE is nearby. : Mortis is reined to a stop and Zane dismounts. : He pats the horse. Mortis nickers and begins to graze. : It now has no bridle or saddle. Zane pats its bare hide in surprise, then sits against the Ginko tree trunk. : A SMALL SPIDER dangles down on a thread from a branch. : ZANE : What’s the matter with me, Arachnae? : The spider ENLARGES, becoming a woman, CLOTHO, the youngest, prettiest aspect of Fate, holding a strand of web between her fingers-- : CLOTHO : Oh, we call it Delayed Reaction : Syndrome. It’ll get much worse, : but you will survive it. : ZANE : Another Fate? : CLOTHO : I am Clotho, the youngest aspect. : I spin the threads. : ZANE : You got me into this. : CLOTHO : All you have to do is accept and adapt. : It’s just a new reality. : ZANE : I am adapting. I’d just rather not. : Fate shifts from Clotho to familiar Lachesis form-- : LACHESIS : I’ve never heard of Death helping : people live. I’m not sure there’s : a precedent for it. Except. . . : ZANE : Yes? : LACHESIS : I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. : ZANE : Is there anything useful you can : tell me? : LACHESIS : What you do need to do, to get yourself : settled in, is to take some souls to : Purgatory. Once you completed that : aspect of the system, you won’t be : so reluctant to do your duty. : ZANE : Purgatory? I’ve thought about it, : but I don’t know where it is. : Lachesis points. Across the field is a modern building like a university, with green vines climbing the walls. : It looks like a school. : LACHESIS : No comment. : : INT. PURGATORY ADMINISTRATION BUILDING : Zane has his cloak wrapped as he approaches the pretty but bored RECEPTIONIST, looking up from piles of notes-- : RECEPTIONIST : Yes? : ZANE : I am Death. : A phone rings. She points up the hall, off-hand-- : RECEPTIONIST : Follow the black line. : Zane wanders away as Receptionist picks up the phone, sounding cheerful for a stranger-- : Purgatory. Good mourner. Morning! : Zane follows a network of LINES on the FLOOR, various colors and shades, following BLACK LINE down a hall where it branches off from the rest. : It turns off into a completely BLACK LIMBO ROOM. : INT. BLACK LIMBO ROOM : The door closes behind Zane. Complete darkness. A single rim LIGHT flutters on from above. Zane bumps into a small table with an earthly COMPUTER before him. : ZANE : You’ve gotta be kidding. : He looks around then reaches behind the computer, flicking it’s ON/OFF switch. : The screen LIGHTS UP with green letters: : GREETINGS, DEATH. HOW MAY WE SERVE YOU? : Zane types hunt-and-peck, in red letters: : I have two souls to CLASSIFY. : Zane steps back, apparently reading an answer. He backs up, bumping into a HOPPER which looks like a spin-dry machine. : He plucks out the souls of KAFTAN and the BABY, removing one from its baggie, and sets the baby soul in first. : The machine purrs, rotates faster and faster, plastering : the soul against its rim. : The soul is ejected into a LOWER HOPPER. : Zane turns to the computer-- : ZANE : No evil spun out? : He puts fingers on keyboard, then reconsiders-- : Do you respond to verbal input? : COMPUTER : Yes. : ZANE : What now? : COMPUTER : Describe the soul. : ZANE : It’s a baby. : COMPUTER : Definition decision. Turn it in : to recycle. No soul moves on to : Eternity without a chance to : establish its own record. A soul : without a record must be held. : ZANE : What’s that mean? Held? : COMPUTER : It remains in Purgatory. : ZANE : What kind of life is that? : : INT. RECEPTION DESK : RINGING PHONE. The bored Receptionist sets her nail file aside, and answers-- : RECEPTIONIST : Purgatory. How can I help you? : : INT. BLACK LIMBO LAB : Zane steps up to a sealed ROBOT-shape device, which is : seated looking at a PILE OF PAPERS on a desk. : Zane takes the second soul out of it’s baggie and feeds it into a SLOT in the robot’s back. : The robot’s EYES now GLOW and limbs move. It glances at Zane using the Magician KAFTAN’S VOICE-- : KAFTAN : Purgatory. Excellent. : ZANE : You want to be stuck here? : KAFTAN : As long as possible. As long I stay : out of Hell, the Unnamed cannot pick : my brains. My calculations were very : precise, but there is always that : element of uncertainty. Did my : daughter Luna reward you? : ZANE : She offered again, but I declined again. : KAFTAN : You mustn’t. Luna is for you. : Go after her, Death. She is worth it. : Now, I must get on with my chore. : Zane looks at the desk full of papers-- : ZANE : What chore? : KAFTAN : Obviously, I must tote up the balance : of good and evil on my soul myself. : These are the tote forms. One for : every day of my life. : Zane picks up a form, looking it over-- : ZANE : Enter sixteen percent of balance from : form 1040-Z on Line 32-Q. If figure : is greater than that on Line 29-P of : schedule TT, subtract 3.2 percent of : line 69-F. If less than amount shown : on line root fifteen on Schedule I, : go to form 7734 inverted. (looks up) : This is almost as bad as an income tax form! : KAFTAN : Where do you think the IRS gets its : inspiration? : : EXT. DEATH MANSION - MOMENTS LATER : Mortis trots Zane to a stop at a MAILBOX which reads: : DEATH : Zane dismounts, looking at the FUNERAL HOME-style mansion beyond it with white columns and a porch. : ZANE : It’s okay for me to stay here : a while? : Mortis flicks an ear and nods affirmative. : Need anything? Feed? Gasoline? : Mortis walks away to graze by a small LAKE. : I guess you’re okay. : Zane takes four LETTERS from the mailbox. : He steps up to the front door, about to grab the knob. : Instead, he RINGS the DOORBELL. It is a TOLL like DOOM. : The door opens to a black clad English BUTLER. : BUTLER : Good to see you again, sir. : Let me take your cloak. : ZANE : I. . .I’ve changed. I’m not the : same guy, the same Death. : BUTLER : Of course not, sir. We serve the : office, not the man. : : INT. DEATH MANSION : MOMENTS LATER. Zane enters the main living room, now in a comfortable robe and house slippers. He sniffs air-- : ZANE : What’s that odor? : : BUTLER : That is myrrh, sir. This mansion : is traditionally scented with it. : ZANE : The house of Death has to be scented? : : BUTLER : Myrrh is associated with the office. : ZANE : Well, substitute. . . a better smell. : And change the death-knell door-bell. : Please. When you get a chance. Thanks. : BUTLER : Do you care for an aperitif? : Restoration spell? : Zane sits down heavily in an OVERSTUFFED CHAIR. : ZANE : Sure. Thanks. What’s your name, sir? : BUTLER : Butler, sir. Mr. Butler. And : shall I take the mail, sir? : ZANE : What for? : BUTLER : Destruction, sir, according to : normal policy. : ZANE : No, thanks. I haven’t had mail in : a long time. I don’t care if it’s : junk mail. I’d like to look at : it first. : BUTLER : Of course, sir. : Butler departs. : The TELEVISION blinks ON, showing a typical, tidy NEWSCASTER, casually matter-of-fact-- : NEWSCASTER : Two changes in Purgatory Personnel. : The office of Death has a new occupant. : The former Death has been bumped up to : Heaven. Death is dead; long live Death. : Zane starts opening a letter, distracted by the TV-- : NEWSCASTER : The policies of his replacement are : not clear yet; he is running behind : schedule, has allowed a few clients to : escape, and has annoyed the staff of : his mansion by demanding petty changes : in routine. : Zane sets the letters aside. : An anonymous, highly placed source : conjectures that a Reprimand may be : issued if improvement does not : occur soon. (brightens) : On a brighter note, one infant has : been added to the staff. That’s : all for now. Good afternoon. : NEWS THEME music tinkles as Zane slouches. : New program begins, showing HAND-HELD news footage of a : YOUNG WOMAN SACRIFICE tied with CHAINS to a ROCK. : She SCREAMS as a SHADOW falls over her. : HOST : What they can’t show you on television, : all the gore, all the gristle you’ve : got a right to see, on the best of : Dragon VS Maiden! : : Zane winces from television, plucks up black REMOTE, and flicks it off. Butler sets glass of RED WINE before him. : BUTLER : A restoration spell is included in : the formula, sir. : ZANE : Why is the news. . .? : BUTLER : This is Purgatory, sir. : All news relates to the listener. : ZANE : I thought Purgatory was that : building across the way. : BUTLER : That is merely the administration : and testing center, sir. : Zane takes a sip of wine, wrinkling lips at bitterness. : ZANE : I see. So, you’re dead, right? : BUTLER : Yes, sir. I was collected by the : holder of your office twice removed. : I was a child and chose this age to : conduct my duties. I have served here : for seventy-two earthly years. : ZANE : Doesn’t it ever get boring? : BUTLER : It certainly beats Hell, sir. : Shall I introduce you to the : remaining staff, sir? Gardner, : cook, the maids, the concubine. . . : ZANE : The what? : BUTLER : The living have needs, : don’t they, sir? : ZANE : And those can be served by the dead? : BUTLER : Indubitably, sir. : Zane shakes his hand, and gulps last of wine-- : ZANE : I’ll meet the staff another time. : He gets up, leaving. Butler picks up the scattered letters from sofa. : Zane returns, snatching the letters, leaving again. : : EXT. SKY - DAY : A WHITE PLANE soars through clouds. : ROSE’S VOICE : Dear Death, why did you have to : take my mother. I think you : stink. Love, Rose. : INT. PLANE COCKPIT : Zane is seated, folding up a letter written in CRAYON, setting it aside, revealing the AUTOPILOT LIGHT on panel. : Zane opens the next letter. : WIFE’S VOICE : Dear Death. Last night I caught my : old goat cheating again. I want you : to take him right away tomorrow : so I can get the insurance. : P.S. Make sure it hurts. : ZANE : Gee, I wonder why the old goat cheated. : A LIGHT blinks on the CONTROL PANEL: WATCH. : Zane glances at his watch and restarts TIMER. : ZANE : Thanks, Mortis. : EXT. SKY : The DEATHPLANE tails away. : : INT. HELL : Satan sitting on THRONE in red slippers and smoking robe watching TV. The familiar nondescript Newscaster is on-- : NEWSCASTER : Sparing the lives of those he deems : optional, the new Grim Reaper has been : working with disturbing zeal. Purgatory : main office confirms the rumor that the : hooded one has indeed ordered a computer : print-out of exact statistics, following : trends in medicine, travel, and other : mortality sources, urging people to : re-order their lives. : Satan points a finger at the TV, imitating a gun. : He “fires” thumb and forefinger. : The TV screen BLASTS apart. : Satan’s concubine LILAH flinches. She steps behind the : throne, rubbing his shoulders-- : LILAH : It is possible that a soul that : might have squeezed through Heaven : if taken on schedule would later : degenerate and go to Hell. : SATAN : What person, confronted with the : Specter of Death, would not reform : to some extent? Whoever was fool : enough to ignore that warning : deserves Hell. : LILAH : They all deserve it, my Lord Satan. : SATAN : Do my toes now. : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE - DAY : Mortis the Horse is waiting at the curb. : Zane strides up the walk in a shirt, trousers, and stocking feet. The two Griffins scurry out of his way. : Zane knocks on the door. : The griffins expand their wings and growl up at Mortis. : Mortis glances down at them with a dismissive snort. : The griffins bump into each other before scampering off. : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE : Luna hears another FRIENDLY KNOCK on her way to the door in a yellow housecoat, her hair bound in a net, neither lovely nor plain. Grief lines her face. : She opens the door to Zane. She folds her arms. : ZANE : Hi. I’d like to be with you this : evening. It’s been one of those days. : LUNA : I believe you have the wrong address. : How did you get past the griffins? : ZANE : Guess they recognized me by smell. Myrrh. : She closes housecoat, self-conscious, re-appraising him. : We have a date. I’m out of uniform. : : LUNA : Doesn’t that leave you vulnerable : physically? : ZANE (shrugs) : But maybe more secure socially. : Luna steps aside for Zane to enter. He suddenly clenches teeth as an invisible TALON grabs his shoulder. : LUNA : My invisible guardian. A trained : moon moth. Why doesn’t it recognize : your scent? : Zane holds up wrist, showing Deathwatch-- : ZANE : It’s never met me. : LUNA : Let him go. : Zane relaxes, catching balance, rubbing his shoulder-- : ZANE : Thank you. Doesn’t have to be : today. I forgot about your grief. : LUNA : What is your pleasure, Zane? : ZANE : Just to honor your father’s wish, : talk to you, get to know you. He : was very insistent in Purgatory when. . . : LUNA (brightens) : Purgatory? : ZANE : He is figuring out the balance : of his soul. : LUNA : He is not in pain, then? : Zane shakes his head no. : Then I can let him rest for a while. : She takes Zane’s arm, guides him to the couch, picks up the grief-nullifying stone from the coffee table, and puts it on. : She sits with him, removes her hair net, adjusts hair, and smiles. Her right arm touches his left leg. : ZANE : Your father picked me for Death and : for you. I don’t see the wisdom : in either choice. : LUNA : Which simply means we have more to : discover. My father had a dream of a : benevolent universe, a reason for every : out-of-turn death, and that fate had. . . : ZANE : You believe that? : LUNA : I don’t have the information my : father had. How exactly did you : get to be Death? : ZANE : I’d been cheated out of a girl, : beautiful, wealthy, and good like : you, and I was going to suicide. . . : LUNA : A good girl like me? : ZANE : Good and pure. : Luna chokes on laughter. : LUNA : Try passing your identification : stones over me, and I can match you : evil for evil. : She gets up, striding purposefully away-- : Come to the stone chamber. : Zane touches his knee where she had touched. : He follows her. : INT. STONE CHAMBER : A bright, wood-paneled room arranged like a museum, small : stones of every type set out on shelves and cabinets. : Zane passes by, admiring. : : LUNA : Those are my father’s business- : enhancing stones. : Luna lifts several other GEMS from their casings-- : LUNA : Now you and I will exchange evils : in the presence of these gems, and : see what we shall see. : Hold this one in your right hand; : It glows only when you tell a lie. : : She hands him a DUSKY diamond-- : And this in your left; It is a : Sin-stone. : Luna takes similar stones into her own hands-- : I will lead the way, so you can : see how it’s done. : Zane shrugs. : My name is Venus. : Her truth-stone FLASHES. : Now test yours. : ZANE : My name is Jeshosephat. : His truth-stone FLICKERS. : Luna looks to her sin-stone, sighs. : LUNA : Why am I doing this? : Zane catches himself watching her chest rise; looks away. : ZANE : Let’s not. I don’t want to : know your secrets. : His Truth-stone FLASHES. : Luna eyes it, then looks to her own. : LUNA : I have fornicated with a : demon of Hell. : No flashing. : Zane’s jaw drops, he looks at her truth-stone for a long time, but no flash. : Luna holds up her sin-stone. It is GLOWING. : LUNA : Whoever has the brightest sin-stone, : that’s the most evil one of us. : ZANE : I embezzled funds from an employer. : There is a pathetic little FLICKER from Zane’s sin-stone. : LUNA : I am worse than you. : ZANE : I never had the chance to make it : with a lady demon. : LUNA : I deceived my father. He thought : I knew no creative magic myself. : ZANE : That’s not much. : LUNA : Apart from prostituting myself : to a demon. : ZANE : All right. Why did you do that? : LUNA : My father wouldn’t teach me black : magic. He wanted to keep me clean. : So I had to get it somewhere. : ZANE : I killed my mother. : Zane’s sin-stone BRIGHTENS equal to Luna’s. : LUNA : You can’t beat that! : Zane holds up his truth-stone. It remains dark. : ZANE : I did it. Then I wasted my : inheritance gambling, and tried : to replace it by embezzlement. : LUNA : But I still have more total evil : than you because. . . : ZANE : Because you took some of your : father’s burden. He thought that : left you in technical balance. : But where does it put you? : LUNA : Destined for Hell. : ZANE : You seem pretty good to me. : His truth-stone glimmers. Both pace, clutching gems-- : Wasn’t there some other way : to learn black magic? : Read a book or something! : LUNA : Black magic texts are illegal. : ZANE : You can find them on the black market. : LUNA : My father would have known. : ZANE : Why did you want it if he said no? : LUNA : It always fascinated me. I knew : the power my father had, and I. . . : Her truth-stone glimmers-- : Oh, fudge! I should have set that : stone down. (deep breath) I was : afraid for my father. There was no : way I could help him unless I learned : his business. I learned all I could : legitimately, then, finally the only : coin I had to offer. . . : ZANE : The demon thing was more of a : sacrifice. You meant well. : LUNA : A virgin sacrifice. The only type : that kind accepts. It was horrible. : Now what do you want? : ZANE : Your respect. : LUNA : How can I respect someone who : killed his mother? : ZANE : She was in pain, dying anyway; : Then she asked me to. . . it wasn’t : right to let her suffer any longer. : LUNA : Just what happened? : ZANE : Oh, you wouldn’t care to hear. : LUNA : Yes, I would. : Zane glances to her dark truth-stone, then to her eyes, : at last relaxing a bit. : We withdraw from the stone chamber, allowing them to : sit together while Zane apparently opens up to her. : DISSOLVE: : EXT. JUNGLE : Beautiful setting, a flower blooming, BIRDS CHIRPING, : until the mood is ruined by MACHINE GUNS and SHOUTS heard from Spanish SOLDIERS-- : SOLDIER : Halt! : Zane, dressed in Death uniform, stops before a camouflaged SOLDIER-- : ZANE : Where is this? : SOLDIER : I’ll ask the questions. Who are : you and what is your business? : ZANE : I am Death, come to collect a soul. : Identify yourself and your mission. : And the reason behind the war. : The man snaps to attention-- : SOLDIER : Sir, I am Fernando of the Loyal Army, : on patrol to root out the renegades. : Reason for the war: disagreement : over how many angels can dance on : the head of a pin. : Zane glances at his watch, moving on-- : ZANE : Carry on, Fernando. : INT. PIT : Zane peers down into a hole. : Amid a DOZEN SHARPENED WOODEN STAKES, there are THREE skewered SOLDIERS: two dead, and the dying third, RICO, Zane’s client. : Zane slides carefully down a steep mound of earth. : Zane examines Rico’s punctured abdomen. Very little bleeding, but the man is in excruciating pain. : Zane turns, trying to retch. : He turns back to face Rico, his lips clamped shut. : He lurches over and hooks out the SOUL, then leans back against the dirt wall with shuddered breaths. : MARS’ VOICE : You’re new at this, aren’t you? : Zane turns to MARS, a small East Indian man in brief polished armor, short metal skirt and a golden helmet, wielding a RED SWORD. : ZANE : War? : Mars makes an imperious gesture-- : MARS : Death. : They shake hands. : Call me Mars. Who but I could : supervise this altercation? : I have been meaning to meet you. : ZANE : I’m still breaking in. I’ve got : the routine down well enough, but : scenes like this. . . : MARS : A good scene, small but intense. : ZANE : You like your work? : Zane’s watch FLASHES. Mars notices. : MARS : I’m glad you asked that question. : Walk with me. : He paces away, expecting Zane to follow. : EXT. JUNGLE : Zane is following alongside Mars, who clears a path through trees with his sword-- : MARS : It’s fine to be a pacifist as long : as your enemy doesn’t know it. War : is the final refuge against oppression : and wrong-doing. : ZANE : What refuge do these dead : soldiers have? : MARS : They have glory. : ZANE : Glory or gory? : MARS : The threat of war is a conversation : piece, like fences make for better : neighbors. : ZANE : What about those who die fighting : for the wrong cause? : MARS : There is no wrong cause. : ZANE : Communism collapses from within. : Governments can be reformed. : MARS : I remember the French reform. : The guillotine brought mass : production to political murder. : They could kill thousands in a day, : chop, chop, chop. It brought : elitism to the poor. To die like : a king! How about that? : EXT. SMALL CABIN : Mars and Zane approach. They fall back, watching among trees. : A SOLDIER is passing by the cabin. : A LITTLE GIRL emerges and approaches him. He dismisses her. She wraps her arms around him. He pats her head. : Zane’s eyes widen. : The soldier is turning with the girl. Behind his back, the girl’s hand clutches a GRENADE. : ZANE : Hey! Stop! No! : Zane lurches forward. BOOM. DEBRIS rains down around Mars, who is un-phased. : Follow Mars to Zane who is trembling and covered in GUTS, BLOOD, and SHRAPNEL-- : MARS : That was beautiful. That child : brings great honor to her family. : Zane stoops to hook out a little soul from unseen body. : ZANE : Honor? I call it horror. : MARS : I think in due course you will : find yourself at war. I recommend : that you prepare yourself for that : occasion by familiarizing yourself : with your weapon. : ZANE : My only weapon is the scythe. : MARS : And an excellent one it is. : Mars sets his sword into the sheathe, but keeps a hand on the hilt. : He and Zane square off. Zane flicks a glance around, feeling inadequate. : Mars waves with his free hand, beckoning a move. : Zane takes out his scythe, springing the blades out, : posing as if ready, half-hearted. : Mars stands firm, his own sword, slowly, grandly drawn. : The two incarnations of immortality circle each other. : Now we may glimpse damage to the small cabin and the destroyed BODIES of soldier and girl. : MARS : Without this war, the oppression : of the populace would have : continued indefinitely, grinding the : people down, dispossessing them of : property, starving them out. : ZANE : A soldier said it was over how many : angels can dance on the head of a pin. : MARS : Propaganda. These people would have : died like sheep led to the slaughter. : I am the surgeon’s scalpel. : He LUNGES the SWORD at Zane. Zane BLOCKS with SCYTHE. : My edge may hurt a moment, but. . . : Zane LASHES clumsily. Mars BLOCKS it and KICKS Zane to the dirt. He STEPS on Zane’s ARM and takes the scythe, backing off, holding it up as a prize. : Zane struggles to his feet. : Mars sheathes his sword and retracts scythe blades, holding the shaft up to his eye like a telescope and panning to Zane. Zane snatches it back. : MARS : It’s hollow. Just so you know. : Zane looks into shaft of scythe as Mars had. Unimpressed, his finds the pegs and springs the scythe ready again. : Mars draws his sword again. : MARS : Keep the elbow stiff and : follow through. : The two clash, fighting impressively, blocking each other’s blows, Mars backing Zane out of frame, jabbing. : : INT. PHOENIX HOSPITAL - TERMINAL WARD - DAY : A HANDICAPPED BUTTON for door release. : An OLD WOMAN jabs it with her crutch, and hobbles through, past a sign which reads TERMINAL WARD. : An old man with dribble of BROWN where his mouth leaks : is the familiar client Zane had refused to take from life-support earlier. He is now STRAPPED to the bed and still hooked up. : Zane enters, looks around at terrible conditions. : Another man is tied by rope to his wheelchair to hold himself up, a PUDDLE of URINE on the floor beneath him. : Zane steps up to the SUPERVISOR, a thirty-five-year old slob named VIC, reclining behind a desk with a CD player blaring while he flips through a NUDIE MAGAZINE. : Zane leans over the desk, and glances impatiently at his watch. : A PUDDLE from the next room trickles under a FOLDING WALL partition, leading to the back two legs of Vic’s leaning chair which support all his weight now. : : Vic’s chair slips, and his head SMACKS a sharp corner of the metal desk. : Zane steps around the desk, snatching up the soul, folding it away as he crosses back through the ward. : MONITORS CLICKING and BEEPING and patients groaning surround him, seeming to get LOUDER. They fade away at the sound of his familiar client’s voice-- : CLIENT’S : Please, Death. : LADY’S VOICE : Please, now, son. : Zane stops, turning to look at the terminal ward occupants. : His familiar client sits propped in bed across from a middle-aged LADY PATIENT in similar life-support set-up. : Zane has to support himself at the foot of a nearby bed, : that of his early client, distracted by the lady. : CLIENT : Take me away. : LADY : Nothing can take me away. They : won’t let me go. All of my pleading : is in vane. I may rot in this : contraption, but I will still be alive. : ZANE : I am Death. : LADY : I thought you looked familiar. : CLIENT : Remember me? Hello? : Zane ignores him, walking over to the lady, reaching for : her chart at foot of bed, and eyes bug. : ZANE : They gave you a month, tops, : two years ago. : LADY : If I’m not on your schedule, : I understand. You’re a good boy. : Zane fumbles clipboard to floor. He steps around to side of the bed and hooks at the lady’s soul. It SNAPS BACK into her. She shudders, and relaxes-- : LADY : You see, they have me anchored in : life. You can’t take me. : : CLIENT : Try me. Better late than never. : Zane crosses to the client, and finally recognizes him. : ZANE : You’re not in terminal. : CLIENT (eyes gleam) : They bumped me up. : : Zane steps up beside him and tries to hook soul. It SNAPS BACK as well. Zane paces away, checking his watch. : ZANE : Let me think. : He paces the room, passing other PATIENTS with similar set-ups, eight beds in total. A withered thirty-year old, GLEN, cries out-- : GLEN : I see you, Death. : Zane turns to Client and lady at end-- : ZANE : I can’t take her soul or anyone’s : while that equipment functions. : Zane looks to Glen. : ZANE : That lady reminds me of someone. : GLEN : She’s like anyone else. Could be : somebody’s mother. : LADY : It’s my son that pays for all : this foolery. Thinks he’s doing : me a favor. If he really loved : me, he’d let me go. : ZANE : I’m sure he does love you. : LADY : Well he and his family will go : broke because the doctor tells him : he has to. And for what? : For this? Hell can’t be much : worse than this. There’s more : than just me suffering. It’s : my family. : GLEN : All our families. : CLIENT : They’ll cry for a little while, : but they’ll heal. . .and maybe : they’ll have something to live on. : Zane looks around at other SILENT PATIENTS who cannot speak for themselves, a few of which have mouths wired shut. They are nodding and pleading, with moaning. : One is asleep. Zane walks over to the SLEEPING PATIENT. : ZANE : Should I wake him and ask? : CLIENT : He never shuts up about how he’d : love to slip off while asleep. : Trust us, he hates waking up alive. : Other patients grumble agreement. : Zane steps away, striding into the lady’s section, finds switches on her life-support, and CLICKS them OFF. An ALARM rings out. : A NURSE bursts out of the women’s WASHROOM, drying hands on a paper towel frantically, running into the ward-- : NURSE : Oops. Oooooops. : The young nurse locates the dying lady’s life-support machine, runs up and flicks it back on. She steps back, baffled, and feels lady’s neck, finding a pulse. : Thank God. : Zane, on other side of the bed, RIPS OUT the TUBES and WIRES. FLUID spurts. : Now the nurse notices Zane-- : NURSE : You! You did it. Stop! Stop it! : He is gone. : She turns to find him suddenly beside her. Zane takes : her into his arms and kisses her lips. She faints. : Zane eases her gently down, assuring the patients-- : ZANE : She’ll be okay. Wasn’t the real : kiss of death. : He picks up a guest CHAIR to SMASH the BEEPING machine. : He glances at old lady and hears a sustained flat-line BEEP from the HEART MONITOR. He sets down the chair. : He sees the SOUL rise up out of the lady and vanish into the ceiling without assistance. There is a smattering of APPLAUSE from the other patients-- : ZANE : But I’m a murderer again. : GLEN : I wish you had come for me. : CLIENT : You can’t murder our kind. : ZANE : How many of you feel that way? : How many of you really want to : die now? : There is a GENERAL MURMUR of agreement. : Glen puts up his hand-- : GLEN : We all do. : A few silent patients put up hands. : The sleeping patient has an arm in a CAST and SLING, so he seems to be raising his hand. : ZANE : You know that’s mass murder. : CLIENT : It would be mercy, at last. : Zane shuffles to the main service area where nurse came from, opens a MAIN CIRCUIT BOX, and yanks MAIN BREAKER. DARKNESS. SILENCE. : : INT. HELL : Satan emerges from BLACK, pacing past Lilah and throne-- : SATAN : No, no, no, no, no. They were : losing hope. I had them. I : know it. He’s up to something. : NEWSCASTER : Satan believes the new Death is : up to something. : Satan KICKS his newer, smaller TV set from its cupboard. : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE - NIGHT : Luna opens her door, looking lovely, ready for a date. : Zane is in civilian attire. Luna offers a hug. : Zane embraces her awkwardly. LETTERS fall to the floor from his jacket. : LUNA : Sorry. : Luna crouches to gather them up. Zane joins her. : ZANE : No, it was me. : Luna hangs onto an envelope scrawled in crayon-- : LUNA : May I? : Zane gives a sad note. Luna slides out already opened letter, reading aloud-- : : Dear Death. Every night, Mommy makes : me say my prayers, and that’s okay I : guess but they scare me. I have to : say, “If I should die before I wake, : I pray the Lord my soul to take.” : Now I’m afraid to sleep. Love Ginny. : She looks at Zane, shocked, expecting a response. : Zane shrugs, at a loss. : MOMENTS LATER, Zane is on the phone. Luna leans close. : ZANE : May I speak to Ginny, please? : No, she’s not asleep. She’s : lying awake in the dark, terrified : that she will die before she wakes. : Don’t make her say that prayer anymore. : That’s not the way God takes a soul. : MOTHER’S VOICE : Who are you? If this is an obscene : call. . . : ZANE : I am Death. : MOTHER : What? : ZANE : Please fetch her for me now. : MOTHER : I’ll see if she’s awake. But if : you say anything to upset her. . . : ZANE : Fetch her. Please. : He rolls his eyes at Luna. Luna pats his shoulder. : LUNA : I recognized your touch in that : Phoenix Terminal Ward episode. : Negligent Nursing Facility Owner : Thrown in Jail? : ZANE : I don’t know what Purgatory did for : humor in the news before I came along. : LUNA : Put on your Death cape. : ZANE : I don’t know. This is personal and. . . : LUNA : I want a date with Death. : ZANE : My suit is in the car. : GINNY’S VOICE : Hello? : ZANE : Ginny. This is Death. I got your : letter. You just forget about that : prayer and have a good night sleep. : EXT. CITY STREETS OF KILVAROUGH - NIGHT : The Deathmobile rides along. Headlights pick out a pretty, ghostly figure with a wheelbarrow, MOLLY MALONE. : ZANE’S VOICE : There’s Molly Malone, the ghost of : Kilvarough, my home town. : LUNA’s VOICE : Oh, I’ve never seen her. : The car pulls up alongside the woman. : Zane winds down his window-- : ZANE : Molly! : MOLLY : You can’t take me, Death. : I’m already dead. Sorry, dear. : ZANE : I’m not here on business. My watch : is stopped. We met before I took : office. In fact, I think you were : my omen. : MOLLY : Oh, yes. You saved me from getting : robbed, or worse. You were so nice. : I’m sorry I signaled your end. : Zane gives her a confused look. He glances back into car to stop Luna, but she is already getting out-- : : LUNA : Hello, Molly Malone! : MOLLY : You don’t know? Anyone I interact : with is doomed to die within a month. : (reluctantly, to Luna) Hello, dear. : Zane gapes, and THUMPS the car’s roof. Then as an afterthought pats and strokes roof apologetically. : INT. DIRT TRAIL - DAWN : Mortis the Horse rises up over a ridge, carrying Zane with Luna clutching behind. : Mortis NICKERS and flicks his tail. : LUNA : If I didn’t know better, I’d say : Mortis was trying to speak. : Zane remembers to squeeze earring in his left earlobe, : activating it. : MORTIS : Nature summons you. : ZANE : It can wait till I get home. : MORTIS : The incarnation of Nature. Gaea. : Zane reins the horse to a stop. : ZANE : Mother Nature? If she wants to talk : to me, why not come herself like : the other Incarnations did? : : LUNA : You’d better go. I don’t know which : one of you has more power, but : Nature surely isn’t one to piss off. : They look around, finding that they are at a lush green MEADOW leading to a broad green FOREST with a road entering it. : ZANE : Lead the way, Mortis. : No movement from the horse. : You’re not invited? Well, I guess : you can graze here. : Zane and Luna dismount, walking up to a low, sleek OPEN CAR already parked at the tunnel-like aperture of trees. : Luna looks into the window and reports-- : LUNA : It’s a single-seater. Looks like : Nature wants a private meeting. : Zane looks between Luna and Mortis. : ZANE : Keep an eye in each other. : Mortis neighs affirmative without looking up from grazing. : Luna adjusts Zane’s cloak as a wife might adjust her husband’s tie. : LUNA : Now don’t go looking for trouble : with that woman. : She gives Zane a peck on the lips, and recoils-- : Oh, you’re right! A bare skull! : Alas, poor Yorick, I kissed him. : ZANE : Yeah, yeah, an infinite jest. : Zane climbs into the vehicle. Luna watches him pull : away up the asphalt into the forest, enclosed in the living canopy. : : INT. NATURE’S CITADEL : Lush PLANT GROWTH everywhere. Living ARCHES of wood, green carpets of FERNS, mossy SPRINGS of water. : Zane steps inside the enclosure of VINES and FLOWERS. : He stumbles, collects himself, and looks around. : A wind-and-bird-song VOICE IS HEARD-- : GAEA : Welcome, Thanatos. : Zane turns to see GAEA, a woman beyond her prime but clothed in MIST that THICKENS and THINS where appropriate. At times she may seem fat, other times voluptuous. She settles into a live wood CHAIR. : She peers at Zane. : Zane shifts, uncomfortable, then turns away to correct his crotch. He then involuntarily SPINS 180 degrees to face Gaea again. His HIP thrusts out at her-- : ZANE : No! : He reaches for her, his hand cupped as if to touch a breast, but curls his finger and hooks out Gaea’s soul, : stretching part of it out of her body. She grimaces. : Zane’s hip relaxes to normal, the spell broken. : Zane lets go. Gaea catches her breath-- : GAEA : You have shown me part of your power : and I have shown you mine. : ZANE : What little tricks do you have : up your mist? : Gaea walks up to a tree and hugs it. : GAEA : Five sticks, please. Any branches : you can spare. : Five STICKS, roughly equal size dead branches, fall. : Gaea pats the tree trunk-- : GAEA : Thank you, tree. : Gaea points to the fallen sticks. Zane looks down at his feet, surprised. STICKS are arranged in a STRAIGHT LINE. : Linear. One mode of thinking. : Like driving down a highway, : start to finish. : Zane looks up at her, confused. : GAEA : Knowing various way of thinking : might help you in the crisis ahead. : ZANE : Might help what? Avoid war? : GAEA : Much as I would dislike to deny : Mars his heyday. : She gestures down to the ground. Zane looks. : The sticks are now stacked, from Zane’s point of view. : GAEA : Parallel thinking. Very fast and : strong. It leads to a virtually : certain conclusion, based on many : facts. It is perhaps the most : powerful mode. : ZANE : But will it reach very far? : Zane follows Gaea’s gaze to the match sticks again. : This time they radiate out from a common center. : GAEA : Then we have the creative pattern. : Divergent thoughts, not necessarily : limited to the immediate context. : ZANE : Going in all directions, but not : focused. : GAEA : And the schizoid formation. : Zane looks down to a PENTAGON. : Going round and round, getting : nowhere, compartmentalizing, : internalizing. : ZANE : What use is that? : GAEA : It might help a person come to : terms with an ugly necessity. : Indicates three vertical sticks between two horizontal-- : Finally, there is intuitive thinking, : not the most reliable mode, yet : sometimes effective when others are not. : It’s a sudden jump to a conclusion. : : INT. DEATHMOBILE - MORNING : Zane behind wheel, riding along, deep in thought. He turns to Luna in passenger seat. : She brushes grass from her hands-- : LUNA : What did the old green mother have : to say to you so urgently? : : ZANE : She’s not that old. Least, I : don’t think she is. : LUNA : Estimate within a decade. : ZANE : I couldn’t tell. She wore fog. : LUNA : Fog? : Zane glances out windshield, troubled. : Luna follows gaze, and waves at Molly Malone as they pass her in the car. : Zane checks REAR VIEW MIRROW. : In their wake, on curb, Molly waves back to Luna. : INT. PURGATORY COMPUTER LAB - BLACK LIMBO : Zane, again lit from above, turns head to face the conventional personal computer screen with verbal input-- : ZANE : Why is Luna Kaftan scheduled for : premature demise? Who can order : someone to be taken out of turn? : COMPUTER : All individuals are taken in turn. : ZANE : Are you giving me the runaround? : COMPUTER : Yes. : ZANE : Clarify. : COMPUTER : I am not providing the information : I know you seek. : ZANE : Could you provide it if I phrased : the question properly? : COMPUTER (pause) : Negative. : ZANE : If I phrased the question improperly? : COMPUTER : Affirmative. : ZANE : What is not the source of the : directive? : : COMPUTER : Any natural agency. : ZANE : What supernatural agency lacks : any motive for such an order? : COMPUTER : God. : ZANE : Thank you, computer. You have : been very. . .uncommunicative. : Along with the TRANSCRIPT spelled out on the computer screen, there FLASHES an icon of an HOURGLASS. : : EXT. PURGATORY PASTURE : Zane hops up onto Mortis-- : ZANE : Mortis, take me to Chronos. : The steed stoops to continue grazing. Zane bucks-- : : Mortis? We don’t have time! : CHRONOS : Turn around, then, Death. : Zane turns. Chronos steps up behind the horse. : ZANE : Any advice that makes any sense : would be appreciated. : Chronos gets Zane to hold his hourglass and hops behind-- : CHRONOS : Now that we’re isolated by the : ambiance of the Deathsteed. . . : ZANE : Luna Kaftan. : CHRONOS : A most interesting case. : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE - AFTERNOON : Mortis BOUNDS down into view, trotting to a stop-- : CHRONOS : Circa twenty years from this moment, : Luna Kaftan will be instrumental in. . . : ZANE : But she is going to die within the : month, Chronos. : CHRONOS : That too. : ZANE : Then how can she. . . : CHRONOS : History is mutable, of course. If : she lives, Luna will go into politics. : Zane looks to the house. : ZANE : Have you got a Tic-tac? : Chronos empties a TIC-TAC breath mint into Zane’s hand, and tucks away the rattling plastic dispenser. : He tilts his hourglass and VANISHES. : Zane pops mint into his mouth, and hops down from horse, walking up to the house. : : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER : Luna on her couch, her face pale and livid with grief. : Sitting beside her, Zane leans over, kissing her cheek. : LUNA : No. : ZANE : But I’m ready. : LUNA : The stones tell me we must not. : ZANE : Your father wants us to. : Zane holds onto her hand. Luna HUMS a Celtic folk tune. : Am I missing something? : : LUNA : I don’t want anything more to lose. : ZANE : I will go with you. : LUNA : Thank you, Zane, for the offer. But : I will not let you go to Hell with me. : Luna clasps his hand, leading him to the door, opening it for him to leave. Zane backs out. : : INT. PURGATORY RECEPTION : Zane leans, both arms braced on the desk. : RECEPTIONIST : Yes, Death, you may file a petition. It : will be reviewed by the Immortal Board in : the next session and a committee assigned. : ZANE : When is the next session? : Receptionist checks the PERPETUAL CALLENDAR-- : RECEPTIONIST : Ten earthly days. : Death slumps, exasperated. : : EXT. DEATH MANSION - NIGHT : Establish. : INT. DEATH MANSION - BEDROOM : Death CLOAK draped over a CHAIR. : Zane lying in bed, tucked sadly under black bed sheets. : He fluffs a black pillow and rolls over. FADE TO BLACK. : : INT. DEATH MANSION - MORNING : A BEEPING alarm is HEARD. Zane rolls over and reaches to night stand, slapping SNOOZE on Deathwatch, and settles back to sleep. : : EXT. WARREN - NEVADA HOT SMOKE MOUNTAIN - MORNING : STEAM wafts up from a pit. : A lovely young VIRGIN WOMAN weeps inside a CAGE. : A few biker types with THE DRAGOONS and an oriental dragon crest on the backs of their leather jackets are setting up a SMUDGE POT. : Zane walks up to the girl’s cage, yawning-- : ZANE : How did they bring you here, miss? : VIRGIN : By truck, sir. : ZANE : I mean, was it by coercion? : Did they kidnap you? : VIRGIN : No, sir. I came of my own f-free will. : ZANE : Do you realize what they plan for you? : VIRGIN (crying) : To be gobbled by the dragon. : I can’t even take any drugs. It : changes the taste for the monster. : ZANE : But why sacrifice. . . : VIRGIN : My. . . family. . .in debt. . . : Zane goes for the lock. : Sir, please, I am confined to : guarantee nobody deflowers me before. . . : A CLOAKED FIGURE steps up beside Zane, looking to cage-- : LUNA : I will take your place, dear. : ZANE : Luna! : LUNA : Oh – I didn’t realize you would : attend this one. : ZANE : You can’t take her place. You’re not. . . : LUNA : Not what? : ZANE : The Hot Smoke dragons are an : endangered species because they : only eat virgins. : LUNA : I am a virgin, physically. : ZANE : But. . . : LUNA : The demon had his way with my mind : and soiled my soul. I would have : suffered less the other way. : : ZANE : I put in a petition to review your case. : Zane passes both brown and yellow stones over the virgin : while he speaks to Luna-- : VIRGIN : What’s her case? : ZANE : It’s a put-up job to get her out : of the way. (to Luna) But the : Board will reverse it, I’m sure. : in ten days. : LUNA : My stones tell me my passing falls : within this day. So I thought I : would make my death useful to someone. : Zane puts the ball together and it rises. He jumps to snatch it back. He looks to the virgin-- : ZANE : You are hardly assured of Hell. : (to Luna) How could I have : been summoned to collect her soul? : VIRGIN : Someone else must be going to die. : LUNA : I’m going to Hell in my own hand basket. : I had hoped to handle this without : your knowledge, quickly and cleanly. : The DRAGOONS close in. : DRAGOON : The occasion is at hand. : An OLDER DRAGOON produces a KEY to let the girl out. : Luna steps between him and the cage. : LUNA : I will substitute. The Good Deeds : Exchange sent me. This will square : her family debts. : He looks her over and sniffs her neck-- : OLDER DRAGOON : Very well. We shall release the girl : as soon as the dragon is satisfied. : LUNA : My friend will be on hand to verify : that you do. : The Dragoon turns with a gasp, noticing Zane for the first time. He turns away timidly to the first Dragoon who opens an ORNATE CASE. Older Dragoon lifts out a small, gleaming silver KNIFE and presents this to Luna. : You are permitted to defend yourself : with this. No magic or fire arms. : If you fend off the dragon fairly, : you will be freed, your onus abated. : Luna takes the knife-- : LUNA : This apple peeler is useless. : DRAGOON : It is a token gesture, a requirement : of the Fair Employment Commission. : We don’t want the dragon hurt. : A DRAGOON LOOKOUT on the hill crest yells down-- : LOOKOUT : Hark! It comes! : DRAGOON : Only the designated virgin may remain. : ZANE : Luna. : LUNA : I will not have another chance. : ZANE : I love you. : LUNA : I believe you. : She walks away, past the dragoons, toward what must be the dragon’s LANDING SITE. : A TV CAMERAMAN steps in front, blocking his view, in a T-shirt and baseball cap with a title, “Dragon VS Maiden.” Zane peeks around then SHOVES HIM aside with a CRASH. : Luna stops to look back at Zane. A SHADOW falls over her. : Zane checks his Deathwatch, clenching his teeth. : The ARROW is pointing at Luna. She was his client. : ZANE (yells) : Luna, your good deeds, saving the : designated virgin, feeding the dragon : - they squared your balance. You’re : dying even. : LUNA : I could join my father in Purgatory. : That would be nice. : A TALON of the DRAGON CLAMPS her shoulder. BLOOD gushes : down her arm and chest. : ZANE : No! : The cameraman gets to his feet. Zane steps forward, : bumping him down again. Man remains FROZEN in mid-fall. : Zane steps up to FROZEN LUNA, removing his hand from HOLD pin of the Deathwatch. A human SHADOW falls across him. : Zane turns to look up. : ZANE : I thought you’d come to investigate. : Chronos looks down at him. : CHRONOS : It’s Luna’s time to die. Only : the manner is optional. : Lachesis walks across the sand. : Her FEET in the SAND become those of an old hag, ATROPOS, : and this eldest aspect of Fate joins Chronos. : CHRONOS : Atropos. Hello. : ATROPOS (to Zane) : You must take her soul, Thanatos, or : there literally will be hell to pay. : She CLOSES a pair of SCISSORS in the air, then tries to SNIP a THREAD between her fingers, but struggles at it. : ZANE : To Hell with Hell. I will not take : her under these illicit conditions. : Mars rounds a rocky crest, joining Time and Fate. : MARS : It was all at the behest of the : powers that be. : ZANE : At the cheating behest of the Unnamed. : MARS : Is it worth risking war with him? : ZANE : Until my petition is heard, Luna : shall not die. I am on strike. : A MIST appears, becoming Gaea-- : GAEA : You’ve gotten away with breaking : little rules, Thanatos, but this : time you are in deeper than you know. : ZANE : Are all of you against me? : Then all of you kiss my ass. : I know I’m right, I know my power, : and I shall not be moved. : Zane looks at their shadows in the sand, including his : own: five, like parallel sticks, pointing the same way. : ZANE : You’re all in this. : Atropos becomes Lachesis again-- : LACHESIS : We had to have the office filled. . . : GAEA : By a person of appropriate nature. : MARS : So he could lead the battle against : the Unmentionable. : : ZANE : You used me. And Luna. : CHRONOS : We sacrifice now for the sake of hence. : LACHESIS : It is our business to use people. : GAEA : Mars grasped the essentials of the : battle, Chronos caught the key episode, : I defined the qualities of who could : and would do what has to be done, and : Fate arranged to put him – you – in the : proper situation. We collaborated. : ZANE : You could have told me. : LACHESIS : Openly? The Unnamed would have known. : GAEA : Will you take Luna if he asks you to? : ZANE : No! : GAEA : We thought you would feel that way. : We needed a headstrong, emotional Death. : MARS : You bare the brunt. As long as : you hold out, the Unnamed is foiled. : Zane looks back to Luna, who is still in the dragon’s grip, bravely brandishing her knife. : CHRONOS : Now I can act. : Chronos turns hourglass upside down. Sand falls upward. : Zane turns to the a new scene frozen, Luna unharmed, with no dragon in sight. : GAEA : Beware, you cannot decline this : client without declining them all. : The Unnamed will hold you to the : letter of the law now. : MARS : He cannot make you take the soul, : but he can make you wish you had. : : Gaea and Lachesis each kiss Zane on the cheek. : The male incarnations nod. Zane releases watch pin. : LOOKOUT VOICE : Hark! It comes! : Luna is looking at the sky, clutching her knife. : Zane steps up, ushering her away. She struggles. : Zane turns her to see a LAMB in Luna’s place. : The animal BLEATS, as a SHADOW converges over it. : Luna turns away from the sight of an apparent feeding. : Zane walks over to the lead Dragoon, who gleefully watches and listens to the CHEWING. : ZANE : Are you satisfied? : The DRAGON SHADOW passes over everyone, and eyes track it worshipfully. Zane plucks KEY from the biker, and : unlocks the cage for the designated virgin. : ZANE : When you get home, I suggest. . . : VIRGIN : Oh, yes, sir! I will boff : somebody’s brains out. : The girl runs off. Zane turns to Luna beside him-- : ZANE : As for you, Luna, you’re basically : on bail. : Zane takes her waist, to lift her up onto Mortis. : Luna backs off, putting up her cloak hood. : ZANE : I can take you home, protect you. : Zane lets down his own hood, looks her in the eyes, concerned, and reaches to stroke her hair. : Luna SLAPS Zane in the FACE. : LUNA : Don’t you touch me, Zane. : Who do you think you are? : ZANE : Luna, please, relax. You’ll be safe. : LUNA : You think I can’t handle myself? : You have to rescue me? It’s all : about you? I had everything : figured out. Go home, Zane. (walking) : I’ve got my griffins, a moon moth, : a security system, I’m a trained : Magician; I can handle myself. : Whatever magic stones won’t protect : me I can throw. I don’t need a ride. : The horse glances back at Luna. : No offence, Mortis. : INT. DEATH MANSION - LIVING ROOM : The Butler is on his way in with a tray, finding : pathetic Zane slouching so sofa, eating a sandwich. : SEXY FEMALE VOICE-OVER : Are you sitting alone in a Purgatory : Death Mansion living room? Are you : lonesome for a little female company? : Zane is watching TV. A BEAUTIFUL BRUNETTE SUCCUBUS : is pictured in pretty poses with cheesy music and a : CALL NOW phone number: 1-800-555-DUMB. : I’d love to hear from you or maybe : even drop in for a visit and fill : the void. : : Butler takes his plate, and replaces it with another full sandwich and some junk food, and finally a beer. : I bet you know how to have fun. : ZANE : There is only one Luna. : The same female voice continues, trying to imitate Luna’s : sarcasm, and now we are seeing sexy pictures of Luna in improbable recreations of the same beach and pool poses. : SAME FEMALE VOICE : You know I like a man who looks good : in black. Not everyone can make it work. : But a real man has a J-O-B and he doesn’t : rest until his responsibilities are met. : : Zane picks up remote and flicks the channel. : There is an ad campaign-style pitch in play, showing Satan seated in an easy chair wearing a sweater beside a fireplace, looking friendly and concerned-- : SATAN : Ladies and gentlemen, Death has : called an illegal strike. : Zane leans forward, concerned. : There is a close-up of Satan on screen, with a TEAR DROP. : SATAN : Pressure from peers and Immortality : bosses caused him to cave in at : your expense. : PICTURE changes to a BURNING PLANE after a CRASH. : He will let everyone in this plane : freeze and cannibalize each other : while he indulges personal bias to : protect an unrequited lover. : Zane sinks back from this, dropping his sandwich. : Satan is back on screen, wandering through a FACTORY, wearing a hardhat and pointing at something vague. : SATAN’S VOICE-OVER : Being the Incarnation of Evil is one of : the hardest jobs in the cosmos, but at : least you know someone is looking out : for you, and making others accountable. : Shot of Satan signing PAPERS and setting them aside on his desk. He looks up, addressing camera-- : SATAN : I’m holding up my end of the bargain. : What’s holding up Death? : DISCLAIMER IS FLASHED: : Paid for by a grant from Hidden Existence Tax. : The opinions expressed are soon to be made law. : Criticism will be punished. : Zane tries to press his remote several times, unable to lose the disclaimer. It finally clicks to the News-- : NEWSCASTER : There is an enormous amount of evil : in the world, according to recent : statistics, evil which could corrupt : entire societies like spoiled milk : if left on its own. : Zane sets aside the remote and resumes eating junk food. : NEWSCASTER : Evildoers have to be punished, and : know that punishment is inevitable : and just. It has been decades, : even centuries, since a Death has : placed conscience above convenience. : God would offer the appropriate praise, : but frankly, he’s not paying attention. : Zane sets down his food, shocked, wiping his hands. : The Butler offers him a bottle of wine. Zane waves off this final excess-- : : ZANE : Oh, no thanks, Butler. : BUTLER : Very well, sir. : NEWSCASTER : Hell reports a number of good souls : have sipped through the cracks, : and evil souls have gone up to Heaven : during the recent shake-up. Satan : has cordially invited the new Death : to tour Hell for inspection. : Zane looks at the day’s pile of mail scattered beside him on sofa, plucking and opening a valentine red envelope. : The Incarnation of Evil gives his : assurance that if Death agrees to : depart his physical host he will : return in good order. : ZANE (peers at TV) : His personal assurance? : NEWSLETTER : A hearing regarding the sentence of : Luna Kaftan could be moved up : should the office holder of Death : choose to consider Satan’s case. : The Butler enters behind Zane, announcing-- : BUTLER : Ms Clotho, sir, an aspect of Fate. : Zane stands, adjusting his hair. : CLOTHO : Thanks, Butler. : Lovely Clotho enters, and the Butler coldly snubs her as he exits. She looks to Zane, stretching a BRIGHT STRING between her hands-- : Your transition will not be made : at this time. You are safe. : ZANE : How do I know you’re Clotho? : CLOTHO : No one but an Incarnation can emulate : an Incarnation. This is your string, : Zane, see: I can move you with it. : She makes a KINK in the thread. : Suddenly Zane is sitting on the floor. : She straightens it. : Now Zane is sitting on the TV. : CLOTHO : I can spin it long or short, : smooth or furry, thick or thin. : Clotho changes to Lachesis-- : : LACHESIS : As Lachesis, I can measure it : and define your life. : She changes to the older woman Atropos with SCISSORS-- : ATROPOS : And as Atropos, I can cut it off. : She closes the scissors for emphasis, impatient. : ZANE : Enough. I accept your identity. : What about Luna’s thread? : Satan promised to free her if I go. : Lachesis pulls TANGLED thread from thin air, inspecting-- : LACHESIS : You must be alert for loopholes. : Did he say when? Immediately? : Or in one century? : Satan has replaced Newscaster on TV, his arms folded-- : SATAN : When you choose. : ZANE (jokes) : Maybe I should hire a guide. : Lachesis points to Zane, agreeing, waving index finger. : SATAN : No living person can set foot. . . : ZANE : How about the ghost of Kilvarough? : LACHESIS : Molly? Most of her friends are in Hell. : She was unwilling to desert them, but : too good a girl to follow them below. : : SMOKE around Satan increases but he keeps his mouth shut. : Eventually, she’ll tire and waft up : to Heaven, but meanwhile she can : safely visit Hell. : The Butler is behind them again, announcing-- : BUTLER : Ms Molly Malone. : Molly enters with wheelbarrow, parking it. : The Butler twitches a smile at her and wheels it away. : Molly pats Lachesis on arm and eyes Satan on the TV-- : MOLLY : Best keep an eye on this one, Zane. : His minions lobby to promote guns : and liquor so hot-headed malcontents : can send themselves to him early. : SATAN : I also promote legislation against : anti-social things like pornography : and gambling. : MOLLY : So police are busy raiding bookstores. . . : ZANE : All right, thanks, let’s all try to : be nice and polite and go to Hell. : Satan waves them toward the TV. Zane holds Molly’s hand, helping her as they climb down into the television set. : : INT. FURNACE ROOM - HELL : Open FIRES burn around Zane and Molly. Satan steps up-- : SATAN : Welcome to Hell, Death. : Flames part and Satan extends a hand full of talon-like nails. Zane hesitates, but politely shakes. : Every detail of Satan is more pronounced here, including horns on his head. He indicates PEOPLE in work safety boots and asbestos aprons, SHOVELING COAL into a FURNACE. : SATAN : This is the central heating plant. : ZANE : You could set up a coal conveyor belt. : SATAN : These souls abused their status in life, : putting employees at risk, refusing to : modernize. Eventually each soul will : be purified by suffering, and : qualify for Heaven. : ZANE : So souls aren’t condemned for eternity? : SATAN : Of course not. : MOLLY : Eternity hasn’t ended yet. : SATAN : I’m a perfectionist. I will free : no soul before it’s time. : Molly has been poking around by herself. She returns to Zane-- : MOLLY : This is the showcase, not the real : inferno. Don’t know any of these : folk. Let’s visit the Ireland showcase. : SATAN : There is little point subjecting : ourselves to the abuse and : unmitigated tempers of Ireland. : Satan is already leading them into a gloomy, foggy region, opening a door into the WASTEFUL DOMAIN. : INT. WASTEFUL DOMAIN - BARREN PLAIN : MEN, WOMEN, and CHILDREN garbed in RAGS plod along a barren path, gaunt and emaciated, staring at the ground. : SATAN : The wasteful threw out good food, knowing : others in the world were starving. They : squandered money, they destroyed good : clothing in the name of frivolous fashion, : and now they must save in death as much : as they wasted in life, and resources : are meager here. : : INT. HELL’S KITCHEN : Satan enters, holding the door open for Zane, then : letting go so it SLAMS in Molly’s face. : SATAN : This is Hell’s kitchen. : Satan lifts a sparkling GLASS from a tray, offering a drink to Zane. Zane reaches for it. : Molly enters, nursing her nose. Eyes bug-- : MOLLY : Don’t, Zane. Anyone who eats or : drinks anything in Hell can never : escape it. : Zane returns glass to the tray. Satan winks. : SATAN : We also have the finest library in : Eternity, many of its collected works : written after the author’s Deaths. : MOLLY : I want to see the Ireland section. : ZANE : We’d better go there Lucifer. : We can check in on her friends, : then see the rest of Hell. : Molly “accidentally” bumps tray of DRINKS onto Satan. : : EXT. IRISH CITY SLUM - DUSK : Satan stomps down a street, leading Molly and Zane. : SNOW swirls about. : PEASANTS in heavy outdoor garb clean RUBBISH and FISH HEADS from gutters, using inadequate shovels and brooms. : MOLLY : Sean! I haven’t seen you in a : hundred years! : SEAN, about forty, pauses in his labor as Molly approaches. : SEAN : Sweet Molly Malone! I never : thought I’d see you here. : MOLLY : Just visiting. Haven’t you expiated : the burden of your sin yet? You : were never really a bad man, Sean, : just a litterer. : SEAN : (scratches head) : I don’t know, lass. They keep the : accounts. I must have a really : incorrigible nature. : MOLLY : How are they treating you, Sean? : SEAN : Well, it’s not fun, as you can see. : We clean and clean, but the mess : never ends. And at times it can : be so cold. : He notices Satan approaching. He resumes shoveling. : SATAN : As you can see, we are tough but : fair here in Hell. : Zane nods beside him, believing it. : Molly stumbles and COLLIDES with Zane, shoving him into Sean. : Zane’s hand makes a SLAP sound. He retrieves it from Sean’s back, looking bewildered-- : ZANE : I’m sorry. I lost my footing. : SATAN (at Molly) : The guttersnipe was the clumsy one. : MOLLY : Sorry. Sorry, Sean. : INT. DEATH MANSION - LIVING ROOM : Zane and Molly sink back to sit on sofa. : Satan is on TV screen, arms folded, comfortable-- : SATAN : So you see, there’s no point in : disrupting the system. : ZANE : I agree. But still no Luna. : SATAN : I will send my minions to see to : your comforts, Death. : Satan gets up, walking out, replaced by the regular Newscaster, who resumes broadcast-- : NEWSCASTER : Satan still insists Death will see the : light, or dark, of his logic once he : considers all aspects. In other news. . . : Molly flicks off the TV remote and sits onto Zane’s lap. : ZANE : That’s not necessary. : MOLLY : But I must thank you for taking me. : I met an old friend. : She puts arms about his shoulders and lips to his right ear. Her lips brush his ear-- : Zane, I must tell you before his : minions take over this house. : ZANE : What? : MOLLY : No, no, don’t react. Just smile : and look relaxed. When you touched : Sean’s back, there was no clothing. : Zane opens his mouth to speak. : Molly nibbles his ear. She touches his lips with a : finger to shush him-- : MOLLY : Those people in Hell are naked : in the snow. They aren’t being : punished. They’re being tortured. : She opens her blouse, as if seducing him. : I suspected it before, but was never : allowed to touch my friends in Hell, : or even get close. That’s why I : pushed you. His clothing was : illusion, right? You felt it. : Zane stares blankly at the TV screen, understanding. : Get out of here immediately. Go : to Mortis, who can better protect : you. This mansion will be : taken over any moment. : Molly crawls free of Zane, helping him up. Zane strides to the door. The Butler, now in a CHEF’S HAT, steps into his path-- : BUTLER : Your repast is ready, sir. : ZANE : I will return for it in due course. : Zane tries to edge by. The Butler puts a massive, callused HAND on Zane’s shoulder. Zane squirms. : : BUTLER : But it is ready now, sir. : ZANE : Not now, thanks. : Zane jerks free. The Butler next grips Zane’s forearm. : Whom do you think you are touching? : BUTLER : I am already dead. There is : no harm you can do me. : Zane lifts his head and FLASHES the SKULL MASK image. : The butler blanches, and then recovers. : Zane lifts his right hand. GEMS on his wrist GLOW. : Zane’s fingers catch Butler under chin and lift him up. : The Butler becomes a two-dimensional SOUL. : Zane FOLDS him, wads him, and hurls the ball down through the floor into HELL with a plume of SMOKE in its wake. : Zane turns to Molly at the couch with a wink. : Molly smiles back, pushing her wheelbarrow, and vanishes. : Zane runs through the mansion to the MAIN DOOR, plucks it open and encounters a regal and elegant woman, HELEN, who is pressing the DOOR BELL, which chimes a light, happy version of the “Death March.” She turns face to Zane-- : HELEN : I am Helen of Troy. : ZANE : Now you do call-girl duty? : He tries to brush past her. Helen clutches his arm-- : HELEN : Please! You do not know what : it’s like to be three millennia : past your prime. If I fail Satan. . . : ZANE : I wish you no harm, Helen. But I’m : trying to keep a good, living woman : out of his grasp. Would you seek : to betray that woman? : She looks to him with TEARS in her eyes, shakes her head and DISSOLVES. : EXT. PURGATORY PASTURE : Mortis stands ready by the tree. Zane rushes up, adjusts the translation gem in his ear, and mounts the horse-- : ZANE : What is it, steed? : MORTIS : Satan has loosed the Hellhounds. : ZANE : That sounds bad. What’s a Hellhound? : MORTIS : They are Hell’s clean-up squad. : ZANE : Can’t you outrun them? : MORTIS : Neigh. Extended run, yes. : At short range, no. : Zane dismounts, pacing the grass. : ZANE : Can we hide from them? : MORTIS : No. They can sniff out anything. : ZANE : Is there anywhere they can’t : follow us? : MORTIS : Heaven, perhaps. : ZANE : Let’s not involve Heaven in this. : Let me think. : MORTIS : Don’t think more than eighty-nine : seconds, Death. : Zane looks at the TRAIL he has WORN in the GRASS: It is PENTAGON shaped. He hears a BAYING. : Zane looks across the lush green pasture. : Nothing in sight on the horizon. : Zane runs to Mortis, grabs his scythe, and turns to guard the horse. : There is a RIPPLE in the TALL GRASS. : Zane steps closer, leaving the horse behind for confrontation. Zane checks all sides to face them. : SNOUTS and HEADS of HELLHOUNDS emerge over the grass, animals the height of a man, with glowing RED DOT EYES. : ZANE : Get out of here, Mortis. : This is not your quarrel. : The Deathsteed bolts away. : Zane steadies himself, clutching the shaft of the scythe, : springing the BLADE ready. : ZANE : Come on, puppies. : The FIRST HELLHOUND POUNCES. : Zane ducks it. : A HELLHOUND SNORTS, bearing its TEETH. : Zane snorts back. : Mortis stops at a safe distance in the pasture and looks back to Zane. The horse closes its eyes and looks away again. SOUNDS of THUMPS and whimpers of dogs are heard. : ZANE SLASHES his blade a few times in various patterns, remembering to keep a stiff elbow and follow-through. : HAIRY FORMS block and unblock our view. Zane is crowded. : Mortis peeks, trots back, finds Zane covered in BLOOD. : MORTIS : That was a credit to the office, : Death. : ZANE : If I had any way to avoid it, any : escape, I would have taken it. : BLOOD beads and drips FREE of his cloak, repelled. : Zane mounts the horse-- : : ZANE : My immediate predecessor, what : kind of Death was he? : MORTIS : A mediocre one, or he would not : have lost the office. He kept his : schedule better than you keep yours. : ZANE : I mean, did you like him? : MORTIS : I cannot afford to become emotionally : attached to any specific Death. : ZANE : So you will not miss me when I’m : gone? That’s best. I appreciate : the loyal and competent service : you have given me, and I know you : will be a great help to my successor. : They ride off. : : EXT. KILVAROUGH CITY : Zane slows past a sign: Kilvarough City Limits. : Beside it is a BILLBOARD for Hell, featuring Dee and Dee. : Both of these spokes-cartoons crane their necks watching Zane pass. They hop down from their picture. : They drop through the shoulder of the road, into Hell. : EXT. SIDE ALLEY : Zane rides Mortis into an alley. Mortis stops. : A TATTERED MAN steps away from a garbage bin, his arm swinging something invisible. : Mortis begins to back out. : The man LETS go of something, throwing it. : Suddenly, Zane chokes, apparently suffocating. : : MORTIS : You’ve been hit by a suffocation : spell. The scythe. Use the scythe. : Bewildered, Zane’s teary eyes find the hold in the end of the hollow scythe handle. : He puts his mouth up to it, sucking in air. : MORTIS : It’s a small-diameter suffocation spell. : In a few minutes it will dissipate; : They aren’t designed to last long. : Zane lowers the scythe and breathes freely. : : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE : The Magician Kaftan steps up at the end of the walk. : Luna looks out her window, eyes wide. : Kaftan waves Luna to step out. : Luna joyfully leaves the window. : The Two Griffins expand their wings, approaching the intruder, making snuffing noises. GNARLED HANDS grab each by the neck, dragging them around far side of the house. : Luna flings open her doors, arms open. : Kaftan steps carefully up the walk and embraces her. : They disappear inside. : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE : Luna closes the door. : LUNA : They allow you to roam free, father? : KAFTAN : The world is Purgatory. Please : fetch a stone to divine whether I am : your true father and not an assassin. : LUNA : If it is your will. : Luna turns toward the stone chamber. : The invisible MOON MOTH CLENCHES the old man’s shoulder : in a talon. He winces, pulls a spray can from his robe, and sprays the insect. : He looks to the floor as a THUD is heard. : Luna emerges from the stone chamber with a stone. : LUNA : I’m sure the griffins and my : moon moth would have sniffed out : an intruder. : She stumbles over the place where a limb of the moth may be. She recovers, looking to where Kaftan had stood. : A beady-eyed little DEMON stands in his place. : LUNA : You. : She throws the stones at him. : He slaps them down. : DEMON : I taught you better than that. : And you’ve shown me a thing or two. : Luna looks to the floor-- : LUNA : You sprayed my moon moth? : Luna goes for a HEALING STONE on the mantle, and gropes the floor, finding a limb, applying the gem. : DEMON : I’ll do better than that. : Your boyfriend has been declared : in violation of his office. : : The Demon takes out a HAND GUN. : I shall take his place. : The Demon backs away into darkness. : LUNA : I told him to stay away. : I can handle myself. : Zane BURSTS in the door. He shuts it, and steps toward Luna, concerned. : ZANE : Luna, I know I didn’t knock, but. . . : Luna launches herself up between Zane and the assassin. : The GUN FIRES. : BLOOD SPLATTERS from Luna’s leg. : Zane eases her down to floor, and flicks an arm toward the gun. : The Barrel FIRES AGAIN, but at the ceiling. : Demon’s severed HAND flops to floor clutching the gun. : : Zane recovers his scythe from the demon’s feet. : LUNA : That’s the demon I mentioned, Zane. : The demon bows to Zane. : Zane forks out the demon’s eyes, and flicks them from his fingers. : Demon looks up with bloody sockets where eyes had been. : HE, his fallen EYES, and his HAND each MELT INTO JELLY. : LUNA : Now that I’ve seen how eager : Satan is to get rid of you, : I’m not sure you’re so wrong. : ZANE : I’ll get you to a doctor. : LUNA : Hospitals are crowded with undead. : ZANE : But you could bleed to death. : Luna reaches across floor for heal stone and applies it to her leg. : LUNA : I’ll be alright. Wish I could : say the same for my moon moth. : Zane crouches, testing her with his watch compass. : The ARROW remains pointing to her. : ZANE : You’re still my next client. : Saving me should have tipped your : balance. You don’t need me. : LUNA (shakes head) : Because I need you, it wasn’t : heroic. I’m still in balance. : Zane lowers his hood and mask. He leans in to kiss her : full on the mouth. Luna kisses him back. : Feels like you’ve got a real face. : They peel off each other’s clothes, beginning to make love right on the sofa. : : INT. LUNA’S HOUSE - NIGHT : Window drapes BLOW in breeze. : Zane’s hair flutters. He wakes and sits up alone on sofa. : ZANE : Luna. Luna? Luna! : He looks to see door hanging open. He hears a flutter. : He looks down at NOTE skittering across coffee table : in red cursive script. Zane picks it up. : SATAN’S VOICE : My dear Death. Your fair moon is in : my power. I cannot make her die, : but I can make her wish she was dead. : So terminate your strike, take your : scheduled next client, and free Luna : from her pain. She will go to Heaven : directly, where you may join her at your : convenience. . .Your most humble and : obedient servant, The Prince of Evil. : The MESSAGE BURSTS into FLAME in Zane’s hand. : A LIGHT FLICKERS in a closet. : Zane opens up, searching through, taking down a cardboard box, and lifting out a TELEVISION SET which seems to be on. Zane holds up end of cord, which is unplugged. : SATAN’S VOICE-OVER : P.S. My minions in the living realm : will cause her to react in either a : good or evil manner. Probably good, : so you need not attend her at all. : Simply resume your duties. : He sets TV onto coffee table and sits on the sofa. : The PICTURE shows an earthly chamber. : Luna is now dragged in TIED to a CHAIR, defiantly keeping her chin up. She is attended by the little demons Dee and Dee. : SATAN’S VOICE : You’re on, boys. : Dee and Dee bring out gleaming KNIVES, bringing them close to Luna’s face. Dee 1 licks his lips. : DEE 1 : Pray to Satan for mercy. : ZANE : It won’t work, Satan. She knows better. : Luna SCREAMS. : Luna! Curse him! Say whatever : you have to. : Luna looks around, seeking the voice. : Zane winces, resigned. : LUNA : No you don’t, Father of Lies. : You can’t fool me with Zane’s voice. : He would never urge me to betray : the world, no matter what. : Zane sinks to the sofa, feeling ill, then he notices. . . : A set of MATCH STICKS spilled on the coffee table, two : horizontal and three vertical in between, the pattern for intuitive thinking. : Zane stands up. MATCH-CUT: : EXT. LUNA’S HOUSE : Zane sits upright atop Mortis-- : ZANE : Go to Luna. Trample any who do not : give way. They have had fair warning. : : EXT. MOON : Mortis carries Zane at a gallop across the Moon surface, : the Specter of Death merely a shadow against the earth. : The horse leaps up, floating clear. : A SATELITE orbits above. : INT. SATELITE - HALLWAY : A pair of THUGS with RIFLES patrol a metallic hallway. : They round a corner and stop, their weapons jerking ready in reflex. : At the end of the hall sits Zane on Mortis. : The men BLAST their weapons madly. : The WALL behind Zane is filled with HOLES. Zane’s cloak ripples in the vacuum, but he and the horse remain still. : The thugs skitter and slide along the hall and out the hole, decompressed. : Mortis FLICKS his tail at the damaged wall, and it is now resealed. Zane rides on into the next chamber without damaging the wall. : CHAMBER. Luna is still tied to the chair, a small CUT on her cheek. She looks past the demon thugs-- : LUNA : Death! Don’t take me! : Dee and Dee hold SPARKING electrodes close. They scoff, : thinking she is joking. Zane has dismounted, stepping up behind the demons, the scythe blade gleaming. : No. Don’t kill anyone! : Dee and Dee turn. : The BLADE slices down. : It cuts Luna’s bonds. She ambles free of the chair and steps behind Zane. : Satan appears behind the stunned Dee and Dee and SHOVES them aside brutally. A WALL OF FLAME rises between Zane and himself. : Zane swings the scythe, cutting the flames like wheat. : He steps up to confront Satan. : SATAN : This is all minor magic. Without : the cloak you are nothing. Just a : man. A month ago, you were the : least of pipsqueaks on the verge of : eviction. You have delusions of : grandeur. I call you bluff. : Zane sets down the scythe and lifts cloak from shoulders. : LUNA : No, Zane! Don’t let Satan trick you. : Zane throws cape aside, removes shoes, gloves and gems. : He steps up and slowly lifts one bare hand forward. : Satan nudges it back. : SATAN : I can destroy you with a single : flick of my finger. : ZANE : Then you’d better do it. : Zane leans forward, shooting a hand at Satan’s : mid-section. The Devil PUFFS into NOTHINGNESS. : Zane turns to see Satan re-materialized. : ZANE : So you did get behind me after all. : I’ll turn my back on you again. : Here we go. : Zane turns away. Satan sighs-- : SATAN : You have at last realized your : full power. : Zane picks up his cloak. Luna helps him dress again. : Satan’s puts fingers to chin, ready with a question. : : ZANE : It was the fifth pattern of sticks. : SATAN : Intuitive thinking. : ZANE : If there was a way for you to mess : with Death you’d have done so long ago. : LUNA (crouched) : You were a man performing an office. : Now you are the office. : SATAN : That Green Mother. . . : Dee and Dee follow Satan out. : Luna stands, having tied their shoelaces together. : The Dees TOPPLE against Satan. He slowly turns in rage. : Luna smiles. She flinches from unseen FIREY retaliation. Zane drapes cloak around Luna’s bare shoulders. : : She throws her arms around him, kissing him passionately. : He takes her hand, easing her back up onto Mortis. : LUNA (troubled) : Thousands of people are still suffering. : ZANE : I’ll have Chronos move me back far : enough that it’s erased. There : will be no gap for the mortals. : : INT. LUNA’S LIVING ROOM : Zane and Luna cuddle watching the little TV together. : Two magic STONES are on top of the set for reception. Purgatory Newscaster is on screen-- : NEWSCASTER : We believe it is fair to say that : the recommendation of one other : key witness will have overwhelming : force on the assessment. : ZANE : Maybe one of my clients. : LUNA : Who? : The TV CAMERA swings to reveal the Death steed Mortis. : NEWSCASTER VOICE : And what do you have to say, witness? : Mortis grunts affirmative. Camera swings back to News. : NEWSCASTER : And there you have it from the horse’s : mouth. Glad to have you with us. : Luna flicks off remote, trading it for Zane’s hand-- : LUNA : Glad to have you with us. : ZANE : Glad to have you with us. : LUNA (kisses him) : Death came with friendly care. . . : DISSOLVE TO: CLOSE-UP of The Deathwatch CLICKING, reset. : : INT. DEATHMOBILE : Death’s BONY FINGER tapping steering wheel. Other hand : drops to turn up MUSIC: “Another One Bites the Dust.” : EXT. HIGHWAY : The Deathmobile rides along beside us, overtakes us, : and passes us by. . . : FADE TO BLACK, of course.

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