Gone in Sixty Seconds
FADE IN:
EXT. LONG BEACH STREET - LOWER GRAND - NIGHT
The streets are empty. Low fog skims the sidewalks below a gray stew
of a sky. It's slightly fuzzy, slightly surreal. The vast Port of Los
Angeles is visible in the b.g... No cars parked here ... No cars
except -
Silver with deep grill, its sculptured side panels ending in air
scoops ... All cock and balls, it stands alone in the lonely cool
before dawn ... An old-school totem to speed and style... And then
SOMEONE approaches...
Through the mists of morning ... In leather coat and jack boots ...
He's early 30s, with the vaguely whimsical confidence of a shimmer
that refuses to fade ...
This is RANDALL RAINES, whom they call MEMPHIS - though know one's
quite sure why ... But they do know he's the auto-boost in Southern
California ...
Memphis approaches the Mustang with a gathering awe ... Like a desert
crash survivor coming upon an oasis ... He walks around it ...
Admiring it ... Adoring it ...
But then a FIREBIRD pulls up alongside him. Its driver -
ATLEY JACKSON, early 30s, handsome, jocular leans out for:
ATLEY JACKSON:
You gonna steal her or kneel down to
her and pray -- ?
Memphis looks at him, still enthralled...
ATLEY JACKSON (cont'd)
I know, I know ... It's Eleanor ...
Just take her, slick. - -
And Atley drives off slowly, Memphis looks this way and that ...
No one about ... He removes a SLIM JIM from a deep pocket in his
coat... He slims the door panel ... Pops the button ... opens the
door ...
Watch him work. Quick as sh*t. A SCREWDRIVER appears another
pocket ... He pops the BUTTERFLY to the IGNITION
A RATCHET appears... He strips the mechanism... Now a GIZMO - a,small
socket-like device - is pressed into the
ignition ... A twist of the wrist ... And the 320-bhp 289 V8 rumbles
like a jackhammer. The whole thing took 20 seconds.
He takes a cassette TAPE from another pocket ... Slaps it into the
deck. Bruce Springsteen's "Ramrod" wails from the coaxials.
And Memphis floors it... And off they tear...
The look on his face suggests a supreme satisfaction ... A grand
re-awakening of long-dormant pleasure centers ... A speed Jones,
fixed and fumy ...
He slots in behind Atley Jackson's Firebird ... And slotting in
behind Memphis, in a Z-28, is DONNY ASTRICKY, mid-30s ...
On they go ... The fore and aft car providing escort...
Except that, from seemingly out of nowhere --
A POLICE CAR:
appears behind them...
And Donny instantly goes into diversionary tactic ... He races
through a STOP SIGN ... And the cruiser's bubbles flash on ... And
Donny is pulled-over ... Atley and Memphis drive on in their
respective vehicles...
The UNIFORM COP gets out of his car, goes to Donny.
DONNY:
Problem, Officer?
POLICEMAN:
Yes. You're under arrest -- ?
DONNY:
For running a stop sign?
POLICEMAN:
And off of Donny's look --
We go to Memphis in the Shelby... As FOUR CRUISERS comes speeding
toward him, sirens wailing...
QUICK SHOTS of Memphis racing the Shelby through the early morning
harbor town streets ... Sirens peel ... Memphis turns up the music
... Pins the gas ... The chase is on ...
Memphis maneuvers the Mustang with a dazzling aplomb... Memphis
gutterballing the car, skating the shoulder, the cops in heavy
pursuit ...
And now he's picked up another CRUISER... He passes Atley Jackson,
heading in the opposite direction... Atley has picked-up a pair of
cruisers himself ...
Memphis on a straightaway now, speeds up, feels the boost. But up
ahead, a ROADBLOCK has formed... How'd they get that deployed so
fast? And behind him, the unmarks blaze ...
Guns his b*tch... Straight at the roadblock .. Three CRUISERS and
a PORTABLE WOODEN BARRICADE... Memphis pins her ... ZOOOOOM! Dead-on
to the roadblock ...
And, at the last moment, as the COPS dive out of the way, Memphis
bangs the gear shift into neutral -- yanks the parking brake --
And the Mustang spins on the straight -- Screeching spin ... And
Memphis takes the HARD LEFT ...
And he's managed to outrun them... Finding himself above Lower
Grand... Looking down ...
He can see the secondary pursuit down below ... Atley being
chased... IN THE DISTANCE - Atley is LAUNCHED FROM THE SHOULDER,
the Firebird rolling down a drainage culvert ...
Landing with a sickening thud on its back. Memphis is horrified.
Rescue team presence. Atley being hauled out of the wreck... His
leg is a torn mess ... He's barely conscious... A cuffed Donny
Astricky is dragged to a waiting cruiser ...
A POLICE CAR pulls up ... And out steps
DETECTIVE ROLAND CASTLEBECK
of G.R.A.B. The Governor's Regional Auto-theft Bureau. Castlebeck
is mid-50s, black, saturnine. - But don't let the tacit nobility
fool you - the man's a street viper ...
Castlebeck goes to another cop - HAWKINGS..
HAWKINGS:
Astricky. And Jackson. No sign of
Raines...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Well, then it's all for naught,
ain't it, Hawkings?
Castlebeck looks out over the mess ... And then looks up...
Because, further down Lower Grand, a car is parked. It is the
Shelby. With Memphis leaning against its hood...
Castlebeck looks around him, but no one's noticed. So he walks
toward it, hand on hip...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
I know you --
MEMPHIS:
You know my back -
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
You want to come along quiet?
MEMPHIS:
How's Atley -- ?
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Leg's all banged-up. He made a
stupid play ... He'll limp around
the yard up at Folsom. But
Astricky will be there to take
care of him. With their priors,
they're looking at a serious bounce --
MEMPHIS:
Let them go --
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
How's that?
MEMPHIS:
Let them go. And I'll leave ...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
You'll leave -- ?
MEMPHIS:
You don't have anything on me. A
misdee auto-theft. I got no record.
I'll be out in three days, and back at
it. Or you let them go, and I give
you my word. I'm gone. And without the
ringleader ... Your tee-times have
just grown exponentially...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
I don't golf...
And they stare at each other, as Castlebeck considers.
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK (cont'd)
I do this. And I see you again. I'll
come after you with everything I got.
you won't be able to steal a glance
at a blind man without me by your side ...
MEMPHIS:
You have my word...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Get out of here, then. Now.
And Memphis makes to get into the Shelby...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Leave the car, Randall ...
Memphis nods ... Takes one last look at the Shelby... Sorry to
leave it behind ... And he runs off into the mists of Lower
Grand ...
Castlebeck walks back toward the crime-scene tumult ...
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Arright, let lim go. Cite him for
rolling the stop ... And cite old
Atley for driving to endanger ...
HAWKINGS:
What are you talking about, Rollie? We're
springing 'em? Just like that?
DETECTIVE CASTLEBECK
Just like that. Quit your bellyaching,
Hawkings ... And let's wrap this up ...
And off of Donny's surprised look, as Springsteen wails to
crescendo and we
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"Gone in Sixty Seconds" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/gone_in_sixty_seconds_489>.
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