The Pursuit

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EXT. ELECTRIC STORE PARKING LOT (4:00 P.M., FAIR)

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A flame licks upon the hood of a car. PETER is kneeling a few meters away, hands on knees. His eyes read the horrors placed before him. A CLERK plugs her left ear, a cell phone flush to the right. Her eyes avert back and forth between the flaming car and any other direction. She appears frustrated. A BOY in his teens sits against a pillar at the front of the store. Smoke-colored ash coats his face, an apron lying next to him. His eyes are wide in shock. 2

EXT. ELECTRIC STORE PARKING LOT

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CLERK (hushed.) How much longer are we talking? The clerk wipes the bridge of her nose with her hand before settling it on her hip. CLERK (CONT’D) And just clarifying- this is emergency services? Eye roll. CLERK (CONT’D) No, that was not sarcasm. I would just expect a little more haste consideringThe boy moves to the totaled car’s door, gripping the door handle. He yanks at it. The car shifts, but the door doesn’t budge. He punches the window, recoiling back, favoring his now crumpled hand. The clerk’s jaw hangs as she listens to the operator. CLERK (CONT’D) (wry.) OK, I’m so sorry for disturbing you. It’s been a hard day for you, I get that. Mobile data’s a bitch sometimes, you go over because you thought you were on Wi-Fi at home, turns out you wasn’t- I get it. But I’m actually, like, going through it here, in case you didn’t notice. This dude’s wife just died, in case you didn’t notice. There’s no way (MORE) (CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

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CLERK (CONT’D) (cont’d) she ain’t dead- I saw her- she’s all mangled and shit, yeah, that’s right, she mangled. Everything’s mangled! She mangled, husband’s mangled, I’m mangled! The operator interrupts. CLERK (CONT’D) Emotionally. I’m mangled emotionally, because I have empathy- unlike you, miss-"I ain’t got no mobile data cuz I don’t know how to click a damn button"- it’s right there on the home screen! The boy is now straddling the sideview mirror of the car, attempting to leverage his knee against the window. CLERK (CONT’D) You know what? I ain’t havin’ this right now. I’m done. She pulls the phone from her ear, about to hang up. The operator spits something through the phone. She brings back up to her ear. CLERK (CONT’D) Yeah, go ahead! Cancel the ambulance, you think I care? If it’s comin’ from you, I don’t want it. Pulls it away again. Brings it back up again. CLERK (CONT’D) Yea. Bye. Hang up. The boy thinks he is bashing his knee against the window, but his leverage fails him, only letting out a timid thud on each swing. Black smoke leaks from the hood. 3

I/E. VIRGIL’S CAR (PARKING LOT) VIRGIL (to self.) Oh, c’mon. The used Toyota Yaris pulls into the open spot closest to the entrance.

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EXT. ELECTRIC STORE PARKING LOT

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Virgil exits the car hurriedly. He paces down the parking lot aisle towards the wreckage. His eyes squint through the black smoke, still fixated on the entrance. He passes Peter without a glance. PETER Excuse me, sir. Virgil stops, whipping around to face him. VIRGIL (dismissive.) Yeah whatcha need? PETER (stammering.) I was just wondering if you couldif you couldVIRGIL Yeah? What is it? PETER Call 911, please. She isn’t in the mood. The clerk is pacing in front of the entrance. CLERK (to self.) "Miss-’T-mobitch’" - nah. "Miss-" The clerk notices Virgil and Peter staring at her. CLERK (CONT’D) Don’t you worry bout it, mister. Imma call them right back- just gimme one sec. Virgil turns back to Peter. VIRGIL See? She’s got it all taken care of. Virgil turns back to speedwalking to the entrance. PETER Please! Wait!

(CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

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Virgil, frustrated, whips around again, this time walking backwards away from Peter. VIRGIL Look, man, I’ve got something veryChecks phone for time. VIRGIL (CONT’D) -very important in about 20 minutes. We’re talking life or death, so if you don’t mindVirgil enters the store. The sliding glass door close behind him. Peter slumps, turning back to face the mangled metal coffin before him. The boy judo kicks the window Karate Kid style. 5

INT. ELECTRIC STORE PARKING LOT

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PLUCKY JAZZ. Virgil rushes past an aisle, double-taking before rotating to pace down the aisle. He finds his destination: racks of batteries spanning the whole aisle. He scrutinizes each pack, scanning the details. Lithium, ion, rechargable- he grabs one of each, tucking them upside down into the waist of his jeans. Virgil presses his crotch up against the checkout conveyor, unbuttoning his pants, the battery packs spilling out onto the belt. The cashier, a woman in her mid-sixties, watches. 6

EXT. ELECTRIC STORE PARKING LOT Virgil paces, almost skipping, through the wreckage, twirling the plastic bag of goods on his finger. As he passes the kneeling Peter, a pack of 9V batteries catches him on the back of the head. (Sidenote: Peter is contemplating killing himself. Just a heads-up.) Virgil moseys on past the car, finding his own. Inside, we finally see the gruesome details: Peter’s wife, lovely as all get-out, with a lower steering shaft penetrating her jugular. Virgil checks his phone. Just enough time. He grins to himself.

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I/E. VIRGIL’S APARTMENT (4:28 P.M.)

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Virgil shuffles into his apartment. The T.V. is still on. Commercials run down the bottom half of the screen as the credits for the previous show scroll on the top. Virgil digs through a separate plastic bag, reading "Adam & Steve" along the side. He pulls out a long rectangular box. VIRGIL (to self. wry.) No batteries included. No-batteries-included... Virgil contemplates. VIRGIL (CONT’D) No-batteries-included my ass. Virgil chuckles to himself, bringing the box and the bag of batteries to a suede futon riddled with cigarette burns. He angles the box to view the label. "FLESHHARD" reads across the cover in graffiti font, "No batteries included" placed at the bottom. T.V. ANNOUNCER -and coming up nextThick New York Jewish accents crackle through the speakers. Virgil ignores it, as if an everyday occurrence. His hands fiddle with the freshly opened fleshlight. He struggles to wrap his hand around the device, it being in the shape of a massive vascular black phallus. He stoically continues to fiddle until he finds a small screw fixed onto the plastic member’s urethra. He digs around under the futon, pulling out a small screwdriver before plunging it into the urethra, twisting madly. He pulls the tip off, inserting four 9V batteries. VIRGIL (assuredly, as he inserts each battery.) Alright- we-are-in-business. Twangy bass slaps echo through the room. Virgil quickly screws the tip back on, pulling off his jeans. A studio audience applauses as the main character enters frame. Jerry opens with a joke. Virgil doesn’t respond.

(CONTINUED)

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VIRGIL (CONT’D) (dry.) Ha. An alert pops into the lower left corner of the screen. "RED CROSS - TEXT 0111". Virgil leans his torso right, causing a tissue box on the table in front of him to obstruct the screen slightly. He adjusts, framing the tissue box to cover the alert. Two more characters enter onto the screen. Virgil perks up, getting into position. VIRGIL (CONT’D) Here we go. Gimme a close up. Virgil flicks on the fleshlight. It vibrates slowly at first, whirring faster, droning with a monotone buzz. Virgil holds the fleshlight in mid-air, the orifice facing his crotch. The television displays a screenful of Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Virgil lowers the fleshlight. His eyes widen, his jaw clenches. Reverses back to Costanza. The fleshlight lifts, relieving Virgil. Back to Julia. Fleshlight lowers, Virgil’s jaw hangs as his eyes slightly cross. Back to Costanza. Fleshlight lifts. Back to Julia. Fleshlight lowers. Back to Costanza. Fleshlight lifts. Back to Julia. Fleshlight lowers. Back to Constanza. (CONTINUED)

CONTINUED:

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Virgil holds the fleshlight in place. His brow furrows, his eyes pensive. The fleshlight remains on him. Back to Julia. Virgil checks to see no one is watching. He looks down, looks back to the TV, looks around, looks inside his soul. Back to Costanza. Virgil allows it, keeping the fleshlight down as he leans back into the futon.