INT. RESIDENTIAL HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
A MAN recumbent on the bed, playing a TRUMPET, his white dress shirt
defaced by a flower of blood. The room is ON FIRE all around him.
He is playing Miles Davis' moody, Spanish-influenced SAETA, a haunting
and lonely piece.
My name is Tom Van Allen ...
or Danny Flynne ...
A DUFFLE BAG FULL OF MONEY ON THE BED. The money burning, tiny flaming
pieces floating around the room.
... I don't know anymore.
Maybe I'll let you decide. Maybe you
can help me, friend. As you can see,
I don't have a hell of a lot of time left.
A PHOTOGRAPH of a woman taped to the inside of a trumpet case. The
photo is on fire. Only her smile remains.
Avenging angel ... Judas Iscariot ...
Loving husband ... Prodigal Son ...
The prince of Denmark ...?
A GREETING CARD on the floor, a teddy bear and the word,
CONGRATULATIONS! on the front. The wind from the fire blows the card
open. Inside, a BLACKENED BLOOD STAIN.
All of these? None of these? You
decide, friend. You decide. Trumpet
player? Speed freak?
That's as good a place as any.
But first, a little background on the
mad world of the tweaker ..
INT. LABORATORY - DAY
EXTREME CLOSE-UP of a glass pipette dripping a clear liquid into a
Methedrene was first distilled by a
Japanese scientist before WWII.
Hand it to the Japanese, they knew a
good thing when they saw it.
INT. JAPANESE ZERO - DAY
A wide-eyed, jaw-grinding KAMIKAZE PILOT with a death-grip on the
This guy's so tweaked, he probably thinks
he can survive this without a scratch.
STOCK BATTLE FOOTAGE - a Japanese Zero crashes into a battleship,
bursting into a ball of flames.
By some estimates, 2% of the Japanese
population had a meth problem after
factory workers, soldiers,
pilots. Maybe that's why it took two
bombs to get 'em to surrender. A
nuclear blast is just a minor
nuisance to a determined tweaker.
INT. HOUSE - DAY
A wide-eyed, June Cleaveresque housewife in a picture-perfect white
dress vacuums the floor of a picture-perfect house.
In the fifties, the housewives got
ahold of it. Dexedrine. Benzedrine.
She attacks the same spot over and over again, one hand clutching the
vacuum, the other stiffly holding a cigarette.
Now that's a classic speed freak for
you, skinny and cleaning the house. I'll
bet her poor husband never knew what
hit him in the sack either.