Strange Days Page #3

Only silence. And blackness.

CUT TO:

INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE

Lit by miles of fluorescent. Empty and echoing. Close on

Lenny. He has something on his head. Something that

looks like a mutated set of Walkman headphones, except

they have little gecko fingers that fit along the temples

and over the forehead. PLAYBACK "TRODES". Lenny whips

off the trodes, gasping as if he got gutpunched.

LENNY:

Goddamnit! You know I don't deal in

snuff. How many times I hafta tell

you?!

Lenny is with a guy everybody knows as "TICK", a pale-

skinned creature of the night in T-shirt and leather

jacket. Tick is a bottomfeeder in the techno-underground

of the near future.

TICK:

Don't have a f***ing coronary, Lenny.

LENNY:

Well you could've at least warned

me. You know I hate the zap... when

they die. It just brings down your

whole day. Jeez, Tick.

TICK:

Sorry.

LENNY NERO is low thirties. Handsome. Charming. And you

better check to see if you still have your ring after you

shake with him. He is wearing an expensive Italian

jacket, and what he thinks of as a "power tie." His Rolex

isn't real. His greasy hair is too long and curls around

his collar. He needs to shave. A little sleazy. But he

has energy, and heavy street smarts.

Lenny is sitting on the hood of his '97 BMW 1035i. Tick

is facing him, sitting in the back of his beat-to-sh*t

70's van. There are a lot of tapes and tech stuff piled

inside the van. Lenny has a Haliburton case open next to

him, like a drug dealer. In fact the whole setup looks

like a drug deal, but it's not. Though it is illegal.

The case holds Lenny's personal playback deck, his trodes,

and a rack of the little tapes in which he deals. They

are about the size of DAT tapes, and hold about 30 minutes

of sensory experience... everything a person sees, hears,

and feels... recorded directly from the cerebral cortex at

the moment it is happening.

LENNY:

How'd you get the tape? Why didn't

the cops put it in evidence?

TICK:

With all the blood I guess they

didn't see the rig. Guy had it

under a wig.

LENNY:

Yeah, but how'd it get to you?

TICK:

I got ways, Lenny, I got ways.

(off Lenny's impatient

look)

Okay, okay... I got a deal with some

a the paramedics. My guy pages me

and I pick it up at the morgue. So

whaddya think? This clip's gotta be

worth at least a grand. Right?

LENNY:

Tick. Not to dash your hopes, but I

don't deal this kind of product, you

know that. I'll give you four for

it, cause I've gotta cut off the

last bit. And my customers want

uncut.

TICK:

F*** that! The last part's the

best. You dry-dive six stories and

blammo! Jack right into the Big

Black.

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