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MICHAEL SCARN'S OFFICE -- DAY AGENT MICHAEL SCARN, ruggedly handsome without even trying, relaxes at his desk, feet up, reviewing a case file. His gun rests next to his FBI badge, which glints in the office's buzzing florescent light. Dressed in a suit, he's loosened his tie and undone some of the buttons, revealing his hairy chest. The closed door flies open as CATHERINE ZETA-JONES bursts into the office. Acting on instinct, Michael Scarn leans back in his chair and rams his feet forward, tipping his desk over onto the floor. Michael catches his gun in midair, then crouches down behind the overturned desk for cover. CATHERINE ZETA-JONES (covering face with folders) Don't shoot, it's me, Catherine Zeta-Jones! I have some messages for you! MICHAEL SCARN Catherine Zeta-Jones! Didn't I tell you to knock!? CATHERINE ZETA-JONES I'm so sorry! Maybe I can make it up to you. Seductively, she inches nearer, stepping over the mess. CATHERINE ZETA-JONES The first message is: I love you that's from me. (she winks) MICHAEL SCARN No, Catherine! I'm an FBI man, I must not love! It'll only get in the way of my objectives. Now what's the other message? CATHERINE ZETA-JONES (looking slightly downcast) The head of the FBI has requested your presence in the secret base. He says to make sure you are not followed. It regards your mortal enemy - (said in a hoarse whisper) Goldenface.
2. MICHAEL SCARN Have they found him!? CATHERINE ZETA-JONES I'm sorry, Agent Scarn, I've told you everything I know. MICHAEL SCARN Fine, I'll head out immediately. Oh, and Catherine? He steps over to Catherine, grabs her around the waist, and pulls her in close. CATHERINE ZETA-JONES (Shocked, but aroused) ..but I thought you must not love? MICHAEL SCARN This ain't love, baby! He kisses her heard. She melts in his arms. After a few seconds, he lets go and quickly heads for the door, then turns back towards her. MICHAEL SCARN And Catherine? CATHERINE ZETA-JONES (still a bit woozy) Yes, Agent Scarn? MICHAEL SCARN Call me Michael - and, uh, clean this up. He exits the office, slamming the door behind him. OPENING CREDITS MONTAGE-- Michael walks quickly down a hallway. A low-level employee carrying a large stack of files blocks his path, and is too slow to get out of the way. Michael pushes him down, sending papers flying. He approaches a cluster of very attractive secretaries. He notices them and slows his stride a bit, gives them a quick nod and a wink, then quickens his stride and heads down the hallway. The women all giggle and swoon. A man on a perpendicular hallway trips just ahead of Michael Scarn, spilling his coffee right in Michael's way. Without batting an eye or taking his eyes of the end of the hall, he sidesteps the steaming liquid.
3. EXT. CITY STREET -- AFTERNOON Michael eyes trouble in the rear-view mirror. Four TERRORNINJAS on sleek black deathcycles converge behind him. MICHAEL SCARN TerrorNinjas - time to boogey. Michael pulls a pair of high-fashion sunglasses from the visor above him. Pressing a button on the dash, a state-of-the-art computer console is revealed featuring an LCD screen with an exact layout of the car. He touches the trunk on the screen. The car speaks to him, with Catherine Zeta-Jones' voice. The car, we will later learn, is called CAT. CAT Stereo initiated, Michael. The car's trunk pops open to reveal an elaborate stereo system. As the TerrorNinjas draw closer, the system emits an ear-piercing tone, causing them to grasp their heads in obvious pain. Three of them lose control of their deathcycles and fall off. Their bikes crash with spectacular explosions. The remaining TerrorNinja regains composure and manages to pull out a small metal disc from a hidden pocket. Pressing a button on it, blades spring out from all sides. He hurls the throwing star at the stereo, where it lodges itself. In a split-second, the star explodes, destroying the stereo and most of the back half of the car. MICHAEL SCARN Good thing this is just a lease. Michael pulls out a ferocious little gun and touches the steering wheel on the LCD screen. CAT Auto-pilot initiated, Michael. Michael pulls himself a savage war cry. The chest and thrown from road. Michael returns through the sunroof and fires the gun with TerrorNinja is struck three times in the the bike, sending it swerving off the to his seat and touches the LCD screen.
CAT Threat eliminated. Well done, Michael.
4. MICHAEL SCARN Tell me something I don't know. CAT Paraguay's leading exports are soybeans, feed, cotton, meat, edible oils, electricity, wood, and leather, in that order. MICHAEL SCARN noted. Michael accelerates down the street as the sun nears the horizon. EXT. DESOLATE HIGHWAY -- NIGHT Michael speeds down the highway on the outskirts of town. The surrounding area is vacant but for the occasional abandoned building; there's not another car in sight. Suddenly, without decelerating, he diverts his course towards a dilapidated gas station a hundred yards off the main road. He turns sharply, kicking up a ton of dirt, slams on the brakes, and stops behind the gas station. Michael presses a microphone button on the LCD screen in his car. MICHAEL SCARN Open says me. Just then, a rectangular patch of ground surrounding the car cracks open and descends, pulling the car underground. INT. FBI SECRET BASE -- NIGHT The car slowly lowers into the huge underground cavern of the FBI's secret base, its walls covered in highly polished metal. As the car continues to descend, it passes an enormous statue in the center of the cavern. It depicts a faceless suited FBI man, a baby held in one rippling arm, an M16 rifle in the other. The car comes to rest at the bottom of the cavern. Hundreds of men, all dressed in black suits, now surround the vehicle.
5. Michael steps out of the car and they all fall silent, awed by his imposing presence. Michael approaches blonde-haired RECEPTIONIST seated at a desk directly beneath the statue's legs. The stunningly beautiful woman eyes Michael hungrily as he approaches. RECEPTIONIST (with heavy Scandinavian accent) Agent Scarn. How very nice to see you again. I hope to see... much more of you very soon. MICHAEL SCARN This is business, Inga. INGA Yes, of course, Agent Scarn. (embarrassed pause) Agent Black will see to you right away. MICHAEL SCARN Thank you, Inga. We'll discuss the personal matter later. Michael shoots her a furtive wink and walks over to the statue's right foot. he places his hand on a fingerprint recognition pad beside it. It quickly bleeps and a door opens before him. Michael steps into a small, circular elevator and the doors close automatically behind him. INT. AGENT BLACK'S OFFICE -- NIGHT The elevator doors open into a large office equipped with numerous monitors showing various activities throughout the facility. Michael steps into the space and looks out through the windows lining the office - it is the torso of the giant statue looking down upon the cavern. He approaches a desk where a large, imposing man sits. This is AGENT BLACK, 60's, a beet red face and little hair left atop his head. When he sees Scarn, he rises. AGENT BLACK Ah, Agent Scarn, it's good to see you survived your last mission. Siberia's a bitch. MICHAEL SCARN (laughs) Now it's my bitch. It was nothing, sir.
6. AGENT BLACK Well, it's good to have you back. We need you straight away. MICHAEL SCARN Goldenface? AGENT BLACK Precisely. Black picks up a small remote from his desk and presses a button. The floor lights up to show a map of Africa. A red light pulses in the center. AGENT BLACK It appears that Goldenface has built a secret base below the plains of Sudan to construct a thermo-hydroxi-nucleo-bomb. Our intel indicates that he plans on blowing up the moon as a show of strength--and that he intends to do it during tomorrow's complete solar eclipse. MICHAEL SCARN No! Everyone enjoying a view of the eclipse could be blinded by the sudden full strength of the sun! AGENT BLACK Indeed. He's always had a penchant for theatrics. It seems he wants the sun's sudden return to appear part of the therm-hydroxi-nucleo-bomb. (beat) I would assemble an elite task force for this, but we simply haven't got the time. You're the best of the best of the best, Scarn. We need Goldenface taken down - do you think you can do it? MICHAEL SCARN No. (dramatic pause. Agent Black looks up at him) I know I will do it.
7. AGENT BLACK Excellent. (beat) We'll be paradropping you over the base. All we know is that the secret entrances are in white oak trees, but that should be enough for you. Once you've made it in, your priority is to disarm the thermohydroxi-nucleo-bomb, and then capture Goldenface. (beat) The fate of the world may rest in your hands. Don't fuck this up. MICHAEL SCARN Do I ever? AGENT BLACK Have you already forgotten Bolivia? MICHAEL SCARN That was not my fault; the man you sent with me was a complete jackass. I can't be held responsible-AGENT BLACK Forget it. I'm sending you with an aide, I believe you know him. Samuel L. Chang. MICHAEL SCARN But he was the man from...!! AGENT BLACK I know, you work best alone, but we're sending you with lots of munitions and weapons to accomplish this task - you will need help carrying it all. He isn't our best man, but he is capable. MICHAEL SCARN Fine. But come tomorrow, if the sun hits your eye like a big pizza pie - that's a Chang!
8. INT. INSIDE OF PLANE -- NIGHT Michael is wearing a jet black jumpsuit with lots of hidden pockets. He also has a large black assault rifle grasped tightly in his hands, and a parachute strapped to his back. He is also wearing a black helmet with a clear visor and innumerable gadgets strapped to it. SAMUEL L. CHANG, a large Chinese man carrying lots of black duffels and a parachute strapped to his back, sits near him. PILOT (on loudspeaker) The jump spot is approaching. Prepare for the leap. The wall slides back to reveal a clear night sky. The wind whips a bag out of Samuel's hand. SAMUEL L. CHANG (with heavy Chinese accent) Oh, me so sorry Mister Scarn, me try to be good friend person like with you! MICHAEL SCARN It's alright, Chang. Just don't do it in the future. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, Mister Scarn, you so smart, I no do again! MICHAEL SCARN Alright, Chang, here we go. EXT. SUDANIAN PLAINS -- NIGHT Michael and Samuel jump from the plane. Michael assumes a vertical position, head pointing towards the ground, the pinnacle of coolness. Samuel is writhing in fear, and assumes a very awkward position, falling on his back with the bags sitting on his chest. Michael pulls his chute cord, and a jet black parachute ejects from his back. He gracefully floats to the ground. Samuel pulls his chord, but does not handle the sudden decrease in speed and jerks back, dropping the duffel bags the last fifty feet. Michael and Samuel land about thirty feet away from each other. Michael falls right behind two TerrorNinjas and sneaks up to them, a black, wicked looking knife grasped tightly in his hand. He prepares to stab the first one in the back.
9. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, Mister Scarn! Where is you being? I no seeing you, I hopes you is not in trouble! The two TerrorNinjas spin around, and Michael does a backflip away from them. The TerrorNinja on the left pulls a pistol from its holster on his belt; the other unsheathes a long, wicked looking, jet-black bastard sword. Michael, still clutching the knife, and dives forward, slicing the shin of the pistolwielding TerrorNinja as he rolls past. The sliced TerrorNinja drops his pistol and falls to the ground, writhing in silent agony, clasping his shin. As Michael rises from the roll, the sword-wielding TerrorNinja approaches him in a perfect fencer's stance: left hand forward, sword in back. Michael holds the knife, his white knuckles a stark contrast to the black hilt of the knife. The blood on the serrated blade glints in the pale moonlight. The TerrorNinja cautiously approaches still. The camera flickers back between their faces. Michael's, a picture of a veteran warrior: calm, collected, and serene. The TerrorNinjas, its black obsidian mask reflecting the light of the moon as it creeps forward. In one fluid movement, Michael throws the knife. The knife is shown flying through the air, and halfway to the TerrorNinja it catches fire due to the speed. Right before the knife is due to hit the TerrorNinja, cut to the ground. After 2-3 seconds, a few drops of blood are shown splattering on the ground, followed by the TerrorNinja with a smoldering knife stuck right between the eyes of his mask. Michael returns to the wounded TerrorNinja, still grasping its sliced shin, and with a kick Michael sends the Ninja flying up in front of him. He then pulls back, and releases a powerful punch to the TerrorNinja's face. The TerrorNinja's head goes flying backwards, with gore and blood trailing behind, whilst the body slumps to the ground. Tentacles of blood trail across the hard ground. As Michael walks over to the first and bends to retrive his knife, Samuel walks over to him with an air of bewilderment. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, Mr. Scarn. Where those bad guys come from? I no be seeing them before!
10. MICHAEL SCARN Well, Mr. Chang, I would have had a much easier time dispatching them if you hadn't alerted them to my presence. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, me so sorry Mr. Scarn! MICHAEL SCARN It's alright, Chang. Just be more cool in the future, alright/ Keep your head in these kinds of situations. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, yes sir, Dog! I am can be cool too, gee dog! MICHAEL SCARN (exasperated) No, Change... Samuel looks up expectantly. Michael sights. MICHAEL SCARN (under his breath) Oh well.. (out loud) Well, Chang, we'd better be moving along now. The thermalhydroxi-nucleo-bomb may detonate any second, killing us all. SAMUEL L. CHANG Yes, sir, homey! They's best not be gettin' up in our grill, man! MICHAEL SCARN Uuhhh... Yes. (looks around) Hey, there's a large white oak. Perhaps that is the one concealing the entrance to the base...? What do you think, Samuel? SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, me is no knowing, homedawg! You is using the bigly words, they not in my headbrain! Michael sighs again, this one even bigger than the last. MICHAEL SCARN Just follow me.
11. Michael heads towards the white oak, about 100 feet away. Samuel follows, towing the black bags. Suddenly, as they near the tree, a dozen tribesman speed out of a badly concealed hole beneath the tree, a ululating battle cry spouting from their lips. They are all men, and wear nothing but loincloths, and carry a variety of crude but menacing weapons: spears, axes, quarterstaffs, and clubs. Michael pushes Samuel back, and draws a jet black stick, about and inch in circumference and a foot and a half long. He settles into a defensive position, crouching with the stick held in front of him. Samuel starts to rise. SAMUEL L. CHANG Me be helping you kill them, Mister Scarn! Me cap their asses wit my glock! MICHAEL SCARN No! See those chips on their heads? I believe that they are being mind controlled! Stay back, Samuel; I will deal with them in a nonlethal manner so as to not kill any innocents! SAMUEL L. CHANG (looking disheartened) Alright... The natives approach cautiously but determinedly. Michael leaps into action: he springs into the center of the group, weaving under swords and hopping over axes. His 'nightstick' is a blur, hitting the natives on the legs with sickening cracks. Michael flaunts his martial arts skills: he dispatches as many with his legs as he does with his 'nightstick.' One ax skims his arm, shaving off a small flap of skin and drawing a small amount of blood. After a few short minutes of fighting, Michael stands alone, surrounded by a horde of downed natives, writhing in pain on the ground, nursing their bruised appendages. Samuel approaches him. SAMUEL L. CHANG Mister Scarn! You is injurious! MICHAEL SCARN It's nothing. SAMUEL L. CHANG Is your healthcare be covering this? The FBI be cutting costs!
12. MICHAEL SCARN My healthcare plan is called 'Walk it Off.' Michael steps towards the entrance to the base, Samuel in tow. INT. GOLDENFACE'S BASE -- DAY Michael and Samuel drop from an opening in the ceiling into a small cavern, lit by the occasional torch. The room is deserted, but for a snoring guard sitting next to a reinforced steel door. MICHAEL SCARN (in a low whisper) Samuel! Get out my tranquilizer darts! SAMUEL L. CHANG Holler up, yo. Samuel drops the duffels, creating a fair amount of noise. Michael whips out a black pistol and points it at the guard, but he doesn't react. Samuel zips open one of the duffels, and pulls out a handful of syringes filled with a clear liquid. He starts walking towards Michael but trips over one of the duffels and drops the handful, creating a cacophony. The guard snorts awake. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oh, me so sorry Mister Scarn! Me no try break the glass! GUARD Hey, what are you doing here!? This is a restricted zone.. Hey, you're that Scarn guy! You're not supposed to be here! I'm gonna call the-MICHAEL SCARN You'll do no calling. I'm not sure you noticed, but I'm the one with the gun. SAMUEL L. CHANG Ooh, glock the bitch's ass!
13. MICHAEL SCARN I told you, Samuel, I want to spill as little blood as possible! Guard, if you don't open the door, I may be forced to resort to physical punishments. GUARD Ok, just a sec, lemme-The guard, halfway through getting up, suddenly stiffens and starts twitching. He suddenly drops to the ground, twitches violently, and then explodes. MICHAEL SCARN Damn! They must have installed an anti-disobeyance chip in him! SAMUEL L. CHANG That bitch got fucked up, yo! Samuel walks over to the bloody mess of what used to be the guard and picks up a rectangular white key card, unharmed by the explosion but covered in copious amounts of gore. SAMUEL L. CHANG Is dis what we's lookin' for, Mister Scarn? MICHAEL SCARN Good work, Samuel. Samuel begins to walk over to the door, but slips on the bloodcovered floor and the key slides into a heating grate. SAMUEL L. CHANG Aw hell no! Michael cradles his face in his hands. MICHAEL SCARN Samuel! You must be more careful! SAMUEL L. CHANG The shizzle up and got dizzled! Me so sorry! MICHAEL SCARN It's all right, it's all right, we'll just have to use some of our explosives to blast through. So much for a subtle entrance.
14. Michael walks over to one of the duffels, unzips it, and takes out a black package with a small blank LCD screen. He touches it, and with a few swift touches, sets it up to go off in thirty seconds. He walks over to the door, places the bomb over it, and the bomb attaches itself to the door with a loud SUCTION noise. MICHAEL SCARN Stay back, Samuel. Michael and Samuel walk over to the opposite end of the room. Michael waits calmly for the bomb to explode, while Samuel tenses up, fingers in his ears. The bomb EXPLODES, sending huge clouds of smoke to fill up the room. When the smoke clears to reveal that Samuel and Michael are surrounded by dozens of black-clad ninjas and a gaping hole where the door had once stood. SAMUEL L. CHANG Oooh, snap! MICHAEL SCARN (in a low whisper) It's go time. With the speed of a cheetah, Michael reaches into one of the duffels and pulls out two halves of a titanium quarterstaff. In a fluid motion, he spins the two ends together, and twirls the quarterstaff around his body in an impressive display of manliness. He settles into a low defensive stance, staff at the ready. The ninjas, carrying an impressive array of weapons, including swords, knives, bokken, crossbows, katanas, and innumerable others, make the first move. With a blood-curdling shriek, the ninjas charge. Michael is a blur, holding them all at bay with his quarterstaff. It seems he almost possesses a sixth sense for knowing exactly where the next attack will come. After fifteen seconds of intense combat, the floor is littered with the bodies of downed ninjas, but still more stream in from the hole in the wall. A single crossbow bolt makes it past Michael's guard and strikes him in the heart. The fighting stops immediately, everybody staring at Michael to see if he truly has been downed. Michael himself looks down in mock-horror, then grins. He lifts up his black shirt to reveal a chain-mail shirt beneath it.
15. MICHAEL SCARN (with a smug grin) Old school, bitches. The remaining group of ninjas, about 10, seem nervous. Michael fakes forward, then bolts right, jumps, kicks off the wall, then brings his staff down onto the head of a frozen ninja. The remaining nine form a tightly knit circle around him. With the fluidity of a glass of fine wine, Michael untwists the two halves of the titanium quarterstaff. Without ceasing his movement, he batters at the ninjas surrounding him, slipping through their guards and thrusting into their bodies. Within seconds, Michael and Samuel are the only ones left standing in the room. Some of the ninjas writhe on the ground, but most are motionless. Samuel is speechless. MICHAEL SCARN (all business) Let's go, Samuel. They walk through the gaping hole in the wall. Michael's stride is confident, Samuel is still awed by Michael's performance. Immediately to the left of the hole, however, is a huge gattling gun--aimed right at Michael's face. Seated in the chair of the monstrous gun is a man, wearing the finest of business suits, with a flowing, purple cape and a bright, gold face. GOLDENFACE Welcome to my lair, Mr. Scarn. MICHAEL SCARN (spits) Goldenface. INT. TORTURE CHAMBER - NIGHT MICHAEL SCARN, still dressed in his assault pants but inexplicably shirtless, lies on a metal table, thick leather straps holding him down. Around him is a huge but unidentifiable contraption, inevitably used for causing pain. Around the table, a flock of TerrorNinjas stand stock still, all eyes trained on Michael. At the end of the table, intently glaring at Michael, stands Goldenface. MICHAEL SCARN So, what are you going to do with me, Goldenface?
16. GOLDENFACE Hahahahaha! Always so curious! I have created this little contraption just for you! He explains the contraption to Michael. MICHAEL SCARN Wow. You've really outdone yourself this time, Goldenface. His eyes dart around, searching for an escape. Sweat beads roll down his face, splattering on the cold, steel bench that he lies strapped to. Suddenly, his face lights up. An idea has obviously dawned upon him. MICHAEL SCARN (speaking to no one in particular) Samuel! Initiate the escape plan! GOLDENFACE What are you talking about? The idiot's situation is as dire and as inescapable as yours! MICHAEL SCARN (smirking) Yes, yes, of course it is. Goldenface pauses for a moment, in deep thought. Without warning, he whirls around towards the door, cape flowing out behind him, and points out. GOLDENFACE To the Chamber of Pain! Michael watches them leave. When they are gone, he begins to flex his massive muscles. Grunting with the effort, his face turning beet red, the straps begin to stretch. The leather begins to crack and finally, with one final heave, breaks away. Michael springs up, his toned, muscular body heaving and shining with sweat. He approaches the reinforced steel door. He silently twists the wheel (similar to that of a boat) and swings the door inward on its finely oiled hinges. He inches towards the door and peers around the corner. A hallway stretches down, seemingly interminable, all fashioned of dull steel. Pipes run down the opposite side of the hall. A TerrorNinja, armed with an M16 assault rifle, is posted about ten feet to the right of Michael's room, standing in front of the pipes.
17. Michael, with the speed of a mongoose, springs out of his room, runs down the wall of the tunnel towards the guard, and kicks him in the head, landing silently on the floor and catching the guard's gun before it goes clattering to the ground. Michael pauses a moment, and then reaches for the TerrNinja's fanny pack. From within he pulls a passkey of sorts and a pair of nondescript chrome spheres, seamless but for a small blank touchscreen. He grins to himself. MICHAEL SCARN Beautiful.
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