Trainspotting

EXT. STREET - DAY

Legs run along the pavement. They are Mark Renton's.

Just ahead of him is Spud. They are both belting along.

As they travel, various objects (pens, tapes, CDs,

toiletries, ties, sunglasses, etc.) either fall or are

discarded from inside their jackets.

They are pursued by two hard-looking Store Detectives in

identical uniforms. The men are fast, but Renton and Spud

maintain their lead.

RENTON (V.O.)

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose

a career. Choose a family, Choose

a fucking big television, Choose

washing machines, cars, compact

disc players, and electrical tin

openers.

Suddenly, as Renton crosses a road, a car skids to a halt,

inches from him.

In a moment of detachment he stops and looks at the shocked

driver, then at Spud, who has continued running, then at

the Two Men, who are now closing in on him.

He smiles.

INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT ROOM - DAY

In a bare, dingy room, Renton lies on the floor, alone,

motionless and drugged.

RENTON (V.O.)

Choose good health, low cholesterol

and dental insurance. Choose fixed-

interest mortgage repayments. Choose

a starter home. Choose your friends.

EXT. FOOTBALL PITCH - NIGHT

On a flood lit five-a-side pitch, Renton and his friends

are taking on another team at football.

The opposition all wear an identical strip (Arsenal),

whereas Renton and his friends wear an odd assortment of

gear.

Three girls -- Lizzy, Gail, and Allison and Baby -- stand

by the side, watching.

The boys are outclassed by the team with the strip but

play much dirtier.

As each performs a characteristic bit of play, the play

freezes and their name is visible, printed or written on

some item of clothing. (T-Shirt, baseball cap, shorts,

trainers). In Begbie's case, his name appears as a tatoo

on his arm.

Sick Boy commits a sneaky foul and indignantly denies it.

Begbie commits an obvious foul and make no effort to deny

it.

Spud, in goal, lets the ball in between his legs.

Tommy kicks the ball as hard as he can.

Renton's litany continues over the action:

RENTON (V.O.)

Choose leisure wear and matching

luggage. Choose a three piece suite

on hire purchase in a range of

fucking fabrics. Choose D.I.Y and

wondering who you are on a Sunday

morning. Choose sitting on that

couch watching mind-numbing sprit-

crushing game shows, stuffing

fucking junk food into your mouth.

Choose rotting away at the end of

it all, pishing you last in a

miserable home, nothing more than

an embarrassment to the selfish,

fucked-up brats you have spawned

to replace yourself. Choose your

future. Choose life.

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