Flight

CHYRON -- ATLANTA 6:12 AM

EXT. SOMEWHAT SEEDY TWO-STORY HOTEL IN ATLANTA -- PRE-DAWN

It’s still more night than day as we look down on the HOTEL

ATLANTA. The lit sign for the HOTEL ATLANTA may be the only

source of light as we hear a metallic rattle.

EXT. HOTEL ATLANTA -- SECOND FLOOR -- PRE-DAWN

We follow the metallic rattle to a door. The rattling stops

and we watch the knob slowly turn.

Tight on a feminine arm with a tattoo that announces “hope.”

We pull back to find that both arms are employed in the

pulling of what looks like a large suitcase.

NICOLE MAGGEN, a beautiful but tired woman, finishes pulling

the suitcase that we now surmise to be a folded-up massage

table out of the motel room. With her bra in one hand and

the rickety table resting against the wall of the exterior

2nd floor hallway of the motel, she assesses her situation.

She digs in her purse, lights a cigarette and continues

digging in her purse. She finds a beat-up candy tin. She

opens it and quickly sorts through a collection of burnt

foils, heroin foils, looking for residue. Nothing.

She now finds and holds up the 100 bucks she just made. She

flips open her cheap phone and makes a call...she thinks

better of it and hangs up.

EXT. HOTEL ATLANTA -- PARKING LOT -- MOMENTS LATER

NICOLE forces the clumsy table into the hatchback of a 1988

Toyota Tercel and slams it shut.

INT. 1988 TOYOTA TERCEL -- PARKING LOT -- SAME TIME

We hear the electronic ring of her cheap cell phone on

“speaker phone” mode. The phone rests on the passenger seat.

We pull up to find NICOLE slumped with her head resting on

the steering wheel. She is exhausted and irritated...

NICOLE:

(as the phone rings)

Don’t pick up...don’t pick up...

don’t pick up...

2.

A MAN answers with music in the background...”Yo..” NICOLE

quickly picks up the phone.

NICOLE (CONT’D)

It's Nic, do you have any? Good

morning to you too. You’re what?

Well, where are you guys shootingtoday? Where? Text me the

address. You have some...Okay.

She hangs up the phone and catching herself in the rearview

she tries to smile.

CHYRON --ORLANDO 7:14 AM

EXT. AMERICAN VALUE SUITES - HOTEL -- ORLANDO -- MORNING

The sun would be rising if the sky wasn’t swirling with grey

clouds. We see the American Suites Hotel and recognize it as

a decent commuters’ hotel near the airport in Orlando. The

sound of a clock radio breaks the calm of our picture.

INT. AMERICAN VALUE SUITES - HOTEL -- ORLANDO -- MORNING

Through the clock radio we loudly hear two morning drive-time

radio personalities spewing nonsensical patter...

An attractive YOUNG WOMAN wrestles free of the covers and

gets out of bed. She crosses naked through the room as acell phone starts ringing.

Back to the bed as WHIP WHITAKER rises into frame and

inhabits the room like a lazy ape at the zoo. WHIP wears his

40 some years of life experience like a medal. Smoke hangsin the air and empty beers, a pint of vodka and two emptycarafes of cheap hotel wine clutter the table as WHIPsnatches up his phone and answers...

VOICE:

For the love of Christ! Look...justhold...HOLD ON.

He aggressively drains the last four inches of beer from aclear bottle and cracks the last fresh one that bobs in the

hotel ice bucket.

The naked, YOUNG WOMAN bends over to pick up her clothes.

We witness her ass as a tanned glass vase with a perfectcrack down the middle. Whip smiles, taking it all in...

3.

WHIP:

(into the phone)

I've been up since the crack 'adawn. What check? Tuition? How

much does it cost to go there?

The YOUNG WOMAN has re-lit the last half of a joint and ispuffing it to life as WHIP is beckoning with his large hands.

The YOUNG WOMAN, looking more like a stripper by the second,

hands the joint to WHIP who takes a masterful drag. WHIP

shakes his head in violent disapproval to what he hears onthe phone. He exhales in anger as he shouts into the phone.

WHIP (CONT’D)

NO! NO! NO! You decided he needed

private school...lemme talk toKnuckles. He’s not? Tell’em the

phone works both ways. Oh he's myson because you need a tuitioncheck...that's great Deana. I'mglad you tracked me down in Orlandoat 7 in the f***ing morning toshake me down for money. Does he

even like the f***ing school? No

I’ve never seen it. Yeah I wonder

why not too. I gotta 9 o'clockflight, sit tight 'till I get backto Atlanta. How am I a liar?

What? No, I’ll call you.

WHIP hangs up and continues to make quick work of the lastbeer as he stares through his thoughts and out the window.

YOUNG WOMAN:

Was that your wife?

WHIP:

That was my ex-wife. But youTrina, you could be my second orthird wife if you’d just C’mere.

The YOUNG WOMAN we now know as TRINA smiles seductively...

TRINA:

Whip, don’t even joke about that.

Our flight's at 9, let’s hit it.

TRINA is still naked but she holds a navy blue skirt and awhite blouse as she hands WHIP his pants. WHIP can’t helpbut pat that perfect ass as TRINA tries to skip away.

ON THE RADIO We hear the opening bars of a familiar rockanthem...JOE COCKER’s “I’m Feeling Alright”

4.

WHIP:

Yeah, I'm feelin' a little lightheaded.

I shoulda ate somethin'.

WHIP leans over the motel table, picks up a soda straw that'sbeen cut in half. He efficiently sniffs up a line of coke.

INT. AMERICAN VALUE SUITES HOTEL-ORLANDO-HALLWAY-MORNING

WHIP wears his pilot Blues and carries his hat as he strides

confidently down the hallway. JOE COCKER continues to wail,

perfectly narrating the hero’s swagger that WHIP maintains

while passing bad light fixtures and ornate wall paper.

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