IN.

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 through the sunroof and fires the gun with
a savage war cry. The TerrorNinja is struck three times in the
chest and thrown from the bike, sending it swerving off the
road. Michael returns 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 thermo-
hydroxi-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 pistol-
wielding 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 thermal-
hydroxi-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 blood-
covered 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.