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FADE IN:

               INT. THE HOUSE OF MERCY -- NIGHT

               DISTANT JAZZ MUSIC, 50's Miles Davis, fills the air.

               Traffic light and shadows play across walls of empty rooms.

               A fluffy white cat pads across black and white marble tile 
               to arrive at BLACKIE's personalized black bowl.  It is empty.

               MEOW.  MEOW.

               Blackie climbs a fine staircase, and with hungry effort, 
               forces his slinky white body through a door spilling steam.

               Amidst a sea of candles, a half naked and wet MERCY primps 
               for her own benefit before a mirror.  100% "M.I.L.F."

                                     MERCY
                              (singing)
                         ...because I'm a woman.  Bring home 
                         the bacon.  Fry it up with a 
                         blowtorch.

               The cat enters, jumps up on the counter, slinks over a pair 
               of red 'fuck-me' pumps, and waves his tail towards Mercy.

                                     MERCY (CONT'D)
                         Oh, you stink.  Dirty cat.  I'll 
                         feed you later.  Get away.  Get away.

               The cat struts down to the end of the countertop and stares 
               at the empty toilet, that is not so empty in the mirror.

               BRAD sits on the toilet, towel draped across his shoulders, 
               blood streaming from the bullet hole in his head.

               Brad waves his bloody hands.  The cat paws the empty air.

               Brad waves through the wine glass on the countertop.

               The cat paws.  The glass spills.  Brad the ghost smiles.

                                     MERCY (CONT'D)
                         That is it for you Mr. Blackie!

               Mercy grabs the cat and throws it into her old bath water.  
               The soaked cat goes wild and scurries out of there like wet 
               lightning just as her cell PHONE RINGS!

                                     MERCY (CONT'D)
                         Hello.  HAROLD, how many times do I 
                         have to tell you...
                              (beat)
                         ...well how do you think I feel?

               Brad kisses Mercy good night as she uses toilet paper to 
               clean up the spilled wine.  He fades with the steam.

                                     MERCY (CONT'D)
                         ...always having to clean up the 
                         messes left behind.  There should be 
                         a law requiring you drama queens to 
                         walk a mile in my shoes before making 
                         your ridiculous demands.


               INT. DINO'S DONUTS -- CONTINUOUS

               Three fat cops, faces smeared with chocolate, sit at a booth 
               talking, smoking, eating donuts, laughing, drinking coffee.

               Harold waits at the counter for his donuts, talking on the 
               phone with Mercy.  He looks around discreetly.

               From his coat he pulls a flask and adds a little something, 
               something to his coffee.  He puts the plastic lid back on.

               One FAT COP notices but says nothing to his partner. 

                                     HAROLD MOORE
                         You know, I'm just right around the 
                         corner.  I could come over.  Mercy?

                                     DINO
                         Ok, did you want plain or sprinkles 
                         on your chocolate this time?

               Harold palms his phone, cutting off the sound.

                                     HAROLD MOORE
                         Uh... sprinkles.  Yeah, fuck her!

               He returns to his loud conversation with Mercy.

                                     HAROLD MOORE (CONT'D)
                         Why do you have to be such a bitch 
                         about this?  If Terry were asking 
                         you'd be all over his dick, wouldn't 
                         you!

               The chocolate-smeared fat cop rises to do something.

               Smug Harold, not even looking, pulls out an obviously 
               impressive badge, which stops the cop in his tracks.

               The defeated cop returns to his table muttering to himself.

                                     HAROLD MOORE (CONT'D)
                         Mercy?  Mercy?  She hung up on me.  
                         Fucking bitch.  How much do I owe 
                         you Dino?

               Dino places three large boxes of donuts on the counter and 
               rings up...

                                     DINO
                         $11.50 brother.

               Harold pays up and leaves.  Outside the window he gathers a 
               dog tied to a pole and walks past the fat cop's window.

                                     FAT COP
                         Assholes.  Think they deserve all 
                         the mercy in the world.


               INT/EXT MERCY MEDICAL CENTER LOBBY/STREET -- NIGHT

               DR. TERRY MOORE watches TV crews dash about outside setting 
               up their satellite feeds.  Plenty of buzz and CHATTER.  The 
               Dr. blows his final ring of smoke as a NURSE approaches. 

                                     NURSE
                         Those things can kill you.

                                     TERRY
                         Don't I know it.

               He checks his watch and snuffs the butt out with his foot.

                                     NURSE
                         Been here fifteen years, seen it 
                         all.  Chainsaw accidents.  Shootouts.  
                         Bombs.  No one cares.  A reporter's 
                         girlfriend finds trouble and it's a 
                         media circus.

                                     TERRY
                         Well she is the world-famous Gazelle.  
                         The world does love their beautiful 
                         people.  Excuse me.

               Dr. Terry turns and walks away, the other side of his face a 
               mass of ugly burn scars and history.


               INT. DARK CLOSET INSIDE AN EMPTY HOSPITAL ROOM -- CONTINUOUS

               A BEAUTIFUL NURSE holds onto a pole and takes some. 

                                     TERRELL THE JANITOR
                              (sexy whispering)
                         Beautiful!  That's what you are baby.  
                         Just like a southern peach.

                                     BEAUTIFUL NURSE
                         I sho' nuff am "T" and don't you 
                         dare forget it.

                                     TERRELL THE JANITOR
                         Oh, there's no forgehh...
                              (beat)
                         Did you hear something? 

               A light from outside their closet suddenly turns on, revealing 
               trousers and panties are currently at the ankle level.


               INT. HOSPITAL RESEARCH ROOM -- CONTINUOUS

               Dr. Terry locks the door and draws the curtains across the 
               small window.  He hurriedly unlocks a nearby cabinet and 
               begins placing chemicals on the table behind him.

               With the mass of keys still in his hand, a bottle slips from 
               his grip and SHATTERS leaving a liquid smoking on the floor. 

                                     TERRY
                         Fuck.

               He dumps the keys on the counter and looks around for towels.

               The dispenser is empty.

               Almost bumping into a mop bucket behind him.  He stares 
               mysteriously at the bucket then turns and opens the closet.

                                     BEAUTIFUL NURSE
                         Pole?

               She hands him the mop.  Terrell's a deer in the headlights.

               Terry takes the pole, turns, and gets one step...

                                     TERRY
                         Oh, why thank you nurse!  That is 
                         exactly what I was...
                              (beat)

               ... before late understanding lights up his face!



to be continued in the coming weeks and months. Burundanga Becomes You is the name of this movie screenplay, created by Ken D. Webber copyright 2006, All Rights Reserved.

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Burundanga Becomes You