Hancock Page #4

HORUS (CONT'D)

I'm late for work. Get some sleep.

Tomorrow always feels better...

AARON:

.after a good night sleep.

The light FLICKS off and the man's silhouette form exits the

room.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Horus backs his way out. Shuts the door. Mary's hand greets him

from behind.

It startles the man. He.tries to regroup.

HORUS:

Mary.

9.

Mary inches closer - passion oozes from every pore. She nestles

up against her husband.

Horus stands uncoordinated, pressing his hands against her back.

He is gentle, but as effective as an armless masturbator.

Mary caresses his neck. Moves her lips to his ear, enraptured

BY:

the moment.

And out of nowhere...

HORUS (CONT'D)

(AWKWARD)

I'm late.

Mary snaps from her trance. Unshackles her hold, like she almost

expected it.

MARY:

(DISAPPOINTED)

Right.

(BEAT)

Coffee's by the door.

She marches back into the kitchen. Horus stares at his feet.

S hakes his fists, mentally kicking himself in the face.

He settles for the door, grabs hisjac ke , coffee thermos. A

look at Mary and he's out thedoo rt

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT

Mary - against

the kitchen sink.

Her thin cotton

dress clings to a body still'robust with enrgy,

to breasts so ful l they could yread Uncl

pop a boner inoud e

And while the storm rages outside, Mary burns in a feverish

sweat. The swelling steam and running ho t water combine to

saturate her chest and face - she drips.

Mary gazes out at the wet abyss, possessed by some inner

longing.

INT. MOTEL ROOM (7F) - NIGHT

A T.V. SET. It MOANS from the corner of a room. Scant

blinking red neon from the street cannot disguise thecant lighting

torture this r oom has seen.

10.

Torn, mildewed' curtains. Damp carpeting,. et _ d by every form

of bodily discharge. No self-rem n� g maggot would want to be

caught dead here.

On a shredded s, blotched with urine and cum, we SEE a

trenehc -l�n open carton of cigarettes accompanies the

picture.

An open door faces the MOANING TV set. It's the bathroom and

it's occupied by the intensely frazzled image of Hancock.

He squats on the TOILET, pants around the ankles, cape shrouded

around him.

Those unforgiving eyes plant on the TV screen, a cigarette

dangling from the corner of his lip.

We discern the MOANS to be human and we SEE that he is watching

a PORNO flick - flashes of flesh upon flesh in a f***ing frenzy.

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