INT. ST. ANNE'S ACADEMY - AKRON, OHIO - CLASSROOM
We are in a parochial school classroom, in the late
Sixties. The children all wear uniforms and sit at little
desks. SISTER IMMACULATA stands at the front of the room;
she is a middle-aged nun, very severe. The children are
all terrified of her.
Who can name all the Apostles? Yes?
ANGLE ON CHRISTINE CARTER
A thirteen-year-old girl sitting at a desk. She raises
Sister, may I be excused?
It's an emergency. Real bad.
Sister Immaculata nods, pursing her lips. Christine
stands and heads for the door.
INT. GIRLS ROOM
Christine is now in the deserted St. Anne's girls room.
She is standing on tiptoes, looking in the mirror. She has
taken her hair out of its neat barrettes; she is combing it
out. She applies lipstick.
Christine reaches into her schoolbag; she pulls out a
stack of glittery bracelets and slips them on. She
unbuttons the top few buttons of her stiff white blouse.
She sprays herself with dime store cologne.
Christine opens the girls' room door; she looks both ways.
No one is around; she saunters down the hall.
ANGLE ON A DOOR MARKED BROOM CLOSET
Christine opens this door. She looks into the closet.
There is a very nervous thirteen-year-old BOY waiting for
Christine slips inside the closet and closes the door
ANGLE ON SISTER IMMACULATA
Striding down the hall, with a bloodthirsty look in her
eye, and a nasty-looking wooden ruler in her hand. She
flings open the broom closet door,
ANGLE ON CHRISTINE AND JIMMY
in the broom closet. Jimmy's face is covered with
lipstick. Christine's hair is awry. The couple has
clearly been making out.
Miss Christine Carter! Again! Don't
you know what happens to girls like you?
Don't you know what they become?
INT. CHRISTY'S APARTMENT - ANGLE ON A LARGE, TATTERED
Taped over a crack on a wall. The poster shows a
glittering CHRISTY VAN CARTIER: singing star of a fifth-
rate Vegas lounge. Christy wears tight spangles and a
major wig on the poster. She has clearly lived up, or
down, to all of Sister Immaculata's expectations.
The CAMERA PANS through the dark bedroom in which the
poster hangs; a neon sign flashes outside the window,
casting a red and blue haze over the premises. A dressing
room table is cluttered with dozens of bottles of nail
polish and makeup, and garish clothing and flashy jewelry
are scattered everywhere.
We hear the movement of BED SPRINGS as someone sits up in
Come on, Vince -- hold me a minute.