EXT. ATLANTA, GA - DAY
FADE TO:
CRANE DOWN OVER THE CENTER OF THE INTERSECTION OF TWO BUSY CITY STREETS, SLIGHTLY OVER THE TOP OF A HORIZONTAL TRAFFIC POLE. WE SEE RIGHT BETWEEN THE YELLOW BACKS OF TWO TRAFFIC LIGHTS. ON THE HORIZON WE SEE CUT BY THE POLE A YELLOW CAR APPROACH. SLOWLY THE CAR TOP AND BOTTOM GROWS FROM THE CENTER OF THE POLE. THE LOUD MUSIC EMINATING FROM THE CAR FADES IN. THE LIGHTS CHANGE TO YELLOW, AND THE YELLOW CAR SLOWS DOWN, ITS BRAKES SQUEAKING. PAN DOWN SLOWLY AS CARS ASSEMBLE AROUND THE TOYOTA COROLLA WITH A BURGENDY MATTE DOOR SITTING IN THE LEFT HAND TURN LANE.
CUT TO:
INT. YELLOW SHITBOX CAR - CONTINUOUS
INSIDE, WEARING A UPS DELIVERY UNIFORM, BRENT VIOLENTLY DRUMS ON THE STEERING WHEEL ALONG TO THE MUSIC, SINGING ALONG. HE PEERS UP AT THE LIGHT SINCE HE IS THE FIRST CAR.
BRENT (TO HIMSELF)
C’mon c’mon…
ON THE PASSENGER SEAT RESTS ENVENLOPES SEALED BY THE COURT. ON THE TOP SITS AN UNOPENED ENVELOPE WAITING TO BE SEALED. A DIVORCE PAPER FOR MATHEWS, RYAN PEEKS OUT THE TOP. THE ARROW LIGHT TURNS GREEN. BRENT HITS THE GAS WHILE LOOKING AT THE STACK OF ENVELOPES.
BRENT (CONT’D)
Alrighty, Ryan, let’s see if you get back from work…
STILL LOOKING AT THE ENVELOPES RYAN CRANKS THE VOLUME KNOB
CUT TO:
EXT. ATLANTA, GA - CONTINUOUS
ISOMETRIC TO THE INTERSECTION, WE SEE THE COROLLA BARELY MOVE FORWARD. THE MUSIC GROWING LOUDER, DROWNING OUT THE BLINKER CLICKS. AS THE BELT BEGINS TO SQUEAK FOR THE POWER STEERING AND THE COROLLA BEGINS TO STRAIGHTEN AROUND THE TURN, FOLLOWING THE DOTTED LANE LINE, WE HEAR DISTANT TIRES SQUELLING OVERPOWER THE BELT SQUEEL. A LARGE BLUE SUV SLAMS INTO THE PASSENGER SIDE OF THE COROLLA, SPINNING IT AROUND AND SPREADING DEBRIS EVERYWHERE. THE MUSIC STOPS INSTANTLY AND IS REPLACED BY THE CLAMOR OF METAL STRIKING METAL AND WHEELS LEAVING RUBBER ON THE ROAD. FINALLY EVERYTHING IS SILENT AND ONLY THE BLINKER CLICKS RETURN.
CUT TO:
INT. YELLOW SHITBOX - CONTINUOUS
SHIT IS EVERYWHERE AS BRENT STIRS TO LIFE BEHIND THE AIRBAG
BRENT (MUFFLED BY THE AIRBAG)
Muhh…
BRENT PULLS HIS HEAD BACK FROM THE AIRBAG, AND BLOOD TRICKLES DOWN HIS FACE. HE SITS HIS HEAD BACK AND SQUINTS HIS EYES. HE ADJUSTS THE REARVIEW MIRROR THATS COCKED AT AN ANGLE FACING DOWN. HE HITS HIS VAPE, STILL IN HIS HAND. FINALLY, HE THROWS IT INTO THE CENTER CONSOLE AND REACHES FOR THE DOOR HANDLE. IT IS MISSING. BRENT SIMPLY PUSHES ON THE DOOR AND IT SWINGS OPEN EASILY, AS NO FUNCTIONAL LATCH KEEPS IT CLOSED ANY LONGER. BRENT EXITS THE VEHICLE. PEOPLE FROM THE STREET ARE BEGINNING TO HESITANTLY WALK TOWARDS BRENT.
STRANGER 1
Hey man, oh fuck. Dude, dude, sit down dude.
STRANGER 2
Yeah hey man maybe just lay down for a second my guy.
BRENT (CONFUSED)
Muhh.. M.. Matty?
STRANGER 2
Is he talking to me?
STRANGER 1
What no, do you know this guy?
STRANGER 2
Well no, but my name is Matthew…
BRENT
Math hues?
STRANGER 2
No.
STRANGER 1
No! He was talking to me.
BRENT (KEEPING HIS EYES ON THE STRANGER, WALKING BACK TO HIS CAR)
Ryan?
STRANGER 1
No my name is Paul… Hey seriously man sit down or something…
BRENT REACHES INTO HIS CAR AND FINDS ON THE FLOOR NEAR THE PEDALS THE PIECE OF PAPER. HE WALKS BACK TOWARDS THE MAN SLOWLY AND ATTEMPTS TO BE SUAVE IN HIS DISHEVELED STATE.
BRENT (COYLY)
Hey, uh. Hey Ryan?
STRANGER 1
I’m uh, Paul, remember?
AS THE CROWD CONTINUES TO GROW, A STOCKIER MAN WEARING A TORN SWEATER AND A BUMP ON HIS HEAD WITH SLIGHT BLEEDING MAKES HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD.
DRIVER
Oh dear lord, is he alive? Oh god please don’t tell me I killed a man…
STRANGER 2
He’s… alive.
BRENT CONTINUES TO WALK TOWARDS THE STRANGERS BRENT (SHOUTING DRUNKENLY)
Matty Ryans!
DRIVER
Uh, Ryan Mathew’s? What the fuck? That’s me.
BRENT SLOWLY MOVES HIS ATTENTION TOWARD THE DRIVER. HIS HALF CLOSED EYES TURN BEFORE HIS HEAD. BLOOD FLOWS FREELY DOWN THE SIDE OF HIS FACE. BRENT BEGINS TO LIMP OVER. THE DRIVER TAKES A STEP BACK.
DRIVER (CONT’D)
What the hell, how do you know me?
BRENT
No no, tis’ cool you still got your mail this morning.
DRIVER
What?
BRENT (SHOUTING AGAIN)
Hey!!!
DRIVER (CONFUSED BUT STERN)
What?
BRENT (GIGGLING)
You’ve been served.
BRENT HANDS HIM THE PIECE OF PAPER AND PROMPTLY PASSES OUT ON THE ASPHALT.
FADE OUT
