agents (1st 25 pages)

8/13/2019 Agents (1st 25 pages)

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FADE IN:EXT. BIG CITY - CROSS WALK - 8:52 AMA faint tune is heard as we see a spritely, mulatto, twenty-

something year old (M.C BUCKLES) speed walking with a smorgasbord of

twenty or so caffeinated drinks. Cut to close up and we see he is

above average height. Actually, if you add the extra inch from the

tippy-top of his fresh faux hawk, and don't forget the one inch soleon the bottom of his worn basketball sneakers, he now measures out

at 5 feet, 11.5 inches. So he is basically six feet, as he would

respond the question. Veiny, muscular forearms peer out from

underneath his 3/4 sleeve zip-up as he manages to hold the box of

drinks and his phone somehow. Each pocket of his cargo shorts, which

look like a piece of paper that was taken out of the garbage and

unfolded, serves a purpose: baby carrots, candy poking out of one,

energy shots in the other.

M.C(spirited song)

Oh, There's no mountain you can't climb. / No, you're

gonna to make it in time...

M.C shifts his eyes to his phone. It's 8:53 AM. A text reads: WHERE

ARE YOU? His song intensifies with his quickened pace.

M.C...Oh, no-no-no, you're not going to cry. / You're gonna

make it. / Who am I kidding? / You're not gonna make it. /

You're not gonna-

M.C pauses at a crosswalk where other strangers stand, waiting for

the little white man to appear and give them the go. He continues

humming, just a tiny bit.

A woman stands beside M.C, eyes locked on the box of drinks in his

arms. He looks over at her, visibly bothered by her curiosity.

She brings her eyes to his. He fakes a smile.

WOMANThat's a lot of coffee.

M.C(smarmy)

I'm just really tired.

The woman laughs to herself and looks forward.

M.C looks at her for a second longer, with eye brows raised and a

fake smile, tilting his head to the side. Okay, back to normal. He

looks forward after he gets that out of his system.

An elderly, white haired woman (BABS) is settled two steps ahead of

where he halts. Black, inch thick glasses that impede any angle of

the sun's evil rays opening fire on her fragile eyes.


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M.C's phone vibrates from his right hand.

He peaks down: NEED COFFEES NOW. GET GROCERIES LATER.

Arms spent, he sets down the coffee and looks at his phone.

M.C(press button on side)

You know what? Silence. No more ringing for you... There

we go.At this very moment, the pretentious orange hand leaves and the

little white man appears. As Babs progresses on her journey,

crossing the street at sloth's pace, her replaced right hip sends

her into an angled trajectory. After three steps it's clear: she is

veering straight into traffic!

M.C squints up from his phone to see this. A moment of realization.He leaps towards Babs and puts a hand on each of her shoulders,

attempting to straighten her course.

M.COhp. Here we go.

BABS(startled)

Oh! Please don't hurt me.Frantic, Babs accidentally knocks her thick sunglasses onto the

ground.

M.CI'm not... I won't-

His hands release from her shoulders, quickly picking up theglasses, and continues to hover over her like a spiritual

supervisor.

M.CI won't touch you, I'll just guide you like an angel.

(pause)But not like you're going to heaven though. I'm sure

you're very... fertile...

They finish crossing. Babs treks on without acknowledgement. M.C takes a sigh.

M.C(pause)Ungrateful old...

His eyes look down at his callused hands. He shoots a look across

from where he came.

M.CGreat.


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We see from a wide shot M.C is running back across the street.

BABS (V.O.)Woopsies.

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - COFFEE IN AMERICA - 9:11AM

After a struggle, M.C positions the door in a way he can maneuver it

open with his foot.INT. COFFEE SHOP - COFFEE IN AMERICA - 9:12AM

The Coffee Shop - C.offee I.n A.merica, seats eight people semi-

comfortably. A few modest chairs and tables, more spit-shine clean

than soap and water clean, are in front of a big windowsill. One

aged customer, a regular, crotches a little something in the corner.M.C passes by ETHAN(late teens),6'6, lanky, young looking for his

age. The barista with a genuine smile and self-laminated named tag

looks up to M.C, while having to look down at him.

ETHAN(heavy braces accent)

M.C, you're late!

M.CI know. They only had one barista working again.

Wide shot of Ethan working the counter by himself, shaking his head.

ETHANWhen are they going to learn?

(pause)Why don't you just buy them up here?

Above Ethan, scribbled in chalk are three options: Small - $2.00,

Tall - $4.00, Treats - $3.50.

M.C, never one to hurt someone's feelings, covers his human tracks

with elephant foot prints.

M.CWell... I think it would look suspicious if I just came up

here for twenty coffees and went straight back downstairs.Ethan rapidly nods in confused but apologetic agreement.

M.CAye, Mupp-ay. Good looking... coaster?

MUPPAY (60s) thrusts his masterpiece into the air like the Wimbledon

Trophy, with the heart-warming grin of a five-year-old who just won

Top Banana.

MUPPAYIt's fire-proof too!


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M.C deploys his automatic nod response while he searches for

something to say. He slowly backpedals, until he is less than a foot

from the elevator.

M.CLooking good.

M.C pivots towards two worn, swinging doors. He pushes through them

to reveal an astonishing, silver elevator. A 1x1 black interactive

device sits just above his head and a little to the right. Above it

reads: RETINA SCANNER.For a few moments M.C struggles between trying to get his eyes to

scanner level and balancing the hot drinks still in hand. A robotic

voice, SSIMBA (SIM-BUH), enhances his frustration. Super Smart

Interactive Machine Beta Analyser.

SSIMBAACCESS DENIED.ACCESS DENIED.

M.C steps back out of the swinging doors and sets the drinks on the

counter. He goes back to the elevator, now on his tip toes, feeling

like a small boy trying to peer through the window of his favorite

candy shop, he lines up his eye's with SSIMBA's device. The scanning

takes extra long.

SSIMBAACCESS DENIED.

M.CSeriously, SSIMBA? That's how it's going to be? OK. OK.

M.C turns his back to the elevator and takes a step away. Then a

quick 180 degree turn and run to SSIMBA, trying to catch it bysurprise.

SSIMBAACCESS DENIED.

M.CUgh! Ethan, door.

M.C emerges from the swinging doors and scoops up the smorgasbord of

caffeine, signaling with head for Ethan to open the door.

ETHAN(holding door)

Here you go Mr. B.

INT. COFFE SHOP STAIRCASE

ETHANGood luck.

Ethan winks before he closes the door.


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Hands full, M.C carefully measures out each step. After a few

cautious steps, we see two horizontal red lines, one six inches off

the ground and the other a foot from the ground, beaming across the

bottom of the stairway.

M.C(to himself)

Trip wires. In the stare case. Really?

INT. CIA HEADQUARTERS - 9:30 AMM.C has just completed getting through the door, using the same

awkward foot technique from before.

INT. CIA HQ MAIN HALLWAY

We see a close up of the various drinks: coffee spills and other

drink stains over almost every cup.

He proceeds through the vast hallway corridors, every few steps

reveals a new door. Some are sizable, see-through glass doors andothers are black and opaque.

The first glass door on his left reads: AGENCY SEDUCTION 101.

As M.C peers through the window, AGENT JAMISON(mid 30s), known

around the office for his stainless, pearl teeth and flawless dark

brown hair, rappels down from a long black rope in a tuxedo. His

feet meet the ground with a soft kiss, next to AGENT RACHEL (mid

30s) a feisty brunette. Jamison slowly cups his hand below her ear,

his thumb on her ear lobe in a long, drawn out moment.

M.C(opening door)Hey Jamison! Hey Rachel! Looking great!

Jamison's eyes float to the ceiling as Rachel's gaze meets M.C's

with a fury.

JAMISON(hair flip)

Just leave the coffees at the door.

M.COkie dokie!

M.C sets down the box of drinks, takes out a large vanilla beanfrappucino with "JAMISON" written on the side. After that he sets

down an iced tea with a big "R" on the front, picks up the box and

leaves.

He passes by two big black doors on his way, CAR CHASE SIMULATOR and

AA, setting down a few drinks at each. We hear tires squealing and

people sobbing as he passes.


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M.C passes by a few more such as WEIGHT ROOM, EXPLOSIVES, SUPPLY

ROOM, etc.

He proceeds to take a left around the corner and stops at the

receptionist desk.

INT. CIA HQ RECEPTION DESK

He is greeted by a seated TINA (mid 20s) the receptionist, a master

at lacing her fake enthusiasm pigs in warm, passive aggressive

blankets. Yum! Her words spew out quicker than most.

TINAMick. There you are!

M.C(to himself)

M.C.

TINA

Mhm. Must have been some traffic, huh?

M.CYeah there was only one barista for all these drinks, so

it takes-

TINAI'm sure it does, there are somany. I'm just glad you got

them all... hopefully.

M.CIs there a reason I can't just get it from upstairs,

or...?

Tina looks directly at M.C, either searching for her words or trying

to decode his hidden message.

TINARight? Well, good thing it's only a few blocks away. Do

you have the receipt?

M.CYup, gimme one sec.

Tina raises from her seat, searching through the coffees.After some digging, he realizes he doesn't have the receipt.

TINAWill you circle the date for me?

M.C fakes a smile.

M.CI seemed to have misplaced the receipt.


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Tina takes a moment to register what he has said. She looks at his

hands.

TINAOkay. Well... just go get the receipts and bring them back

here as soon as you can.

Tina stands up to look inside the box containing the rest of the

caffeinated beverages.

M.COh. Before I forget, today I actually had to use my own

money so if i could just get that-

TINAOh no!... I don't see any straws or sugar packets.

M.C(pause)

Yeah, I was running late so I figured I would just grab

some from upstairs.

TINA(some coffee in arms)

It's fine. I'm sure I will eventually find some in the

break room, maybe.

Tina exits with coffees to hand out.Beat. M.C all alone.

M.CI'll just come back later... With the receipt.

M.C heads to the multi-purpose area. He comes to a screeching halt.

We see his eyes light up.

M.CNo way.

INT. CIA HQ WOLFE'S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

WOLFE(mid 20s) 6'2, white, lean and a tad awkward looking, as he has

the body type of a swimmer. His punched up shoulders slope inwards

as if about to cave as they support his red and yellow striped polo.His unshowered hair has a mind of it's own, except for the thatch on

the front-right where he always runs his fingers through, which

always sticks straight out. He may have somewhat of an underbite, or

maybe he is always thinking. His delivery is more leisured, as he

always carefully chooses his words.

Wolfe slouches at his desk, which is covered with three empty

seltzer waters and a junk food wrapper. The laptop directly in front


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of him has a several webpages open, mostly with various names and

faces, and a local gym's complaint page, with an interactive instant

message box up, displaying the never ending list of his complaints.

WOLFE(into phone)

Hi... I'd like to file a complaint.

(pause)Yes... Yes, you see I was told I was a member world

wide... yes.(pause)

THUMP.

Wolfe looks at his open door.

WOLFERight... While I was out of the country, I was turned away

like... like some-(pause)

THUMP. THUMP. Wolfe gets to his feet.

WOLFE(distracted)

I was under the impression...

Wolfe's voice trails off. He sets the phone down and walks towards

the open door.

INT. CIA HQ MULTI-PURPOSE AREA - OUTSIDE WOLFE'S DOORWAY

We see a shot of Wolfe from a far, his hand on the door knob thoughthe shot cuts off before we see any of the door itself. The multi-

purpose room is deserted, with distant signs of life echoing from a

far.

M.C cements his back to the side of the wall, inches from the door

way. With his imaginary hand gun tucked into his chest, he takes a

deep breathe, nods, and bursts through the doorway.

INT. CIA HQ WOLFE'S OFFICE

As Wolfe closes the door and walks back to his computer, we see M.C

with his back, the bottoms of his feet, and his left hand stuck to

Wolfe's door.

M.C stares at him in a giddy astonishment.

He takes a deep breathe.

M.CHands in the air! Quit harassing...


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Wolfe jumps back and whips around. M.C can't unstick from the door.

M.C(tugging hand, feet)

Quit harassing that sweet, old woman... for herpes...

medica- son of a bee sting, I can't get down.(pause)

She never loved you!

WOLFE(covers phone with hand)

Nice one dude. Nailed it.

Whenever Wolfe says "nailed it", the "N" always seems to get an

extra second of attention.

M.CRight?

WOLFE

(hand over phone)Uhhmm yes... so I'll take a seltzer water and uh... or

maybe a cream soda? You know, whenever you're free.

M.C(pulling left hand with his right)

Oh stop, I'm not your-

M.C scans his desk. At this moment he gets his left hand unstuck,

immediately falling face first onto the ground, feet still stuck to

the door.

M.CIt's like... not even 11AM.WOLFE

(hand is off phone)Oh, okay...tough guy now? Big dog stepping up to the

plate?

PHONE OPERATORSir, I didn't mean to offend you. I can give you a refund

if that'd be okay?

M.CA little help?Wolfe gives M.C the "one second" hand signal.

WOLFE(phone to ear)

No, not okay dude. I want my price... cut in half.(pause)

Yep... And my boy, he wants half off too.(thumbs up to M.C)


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Okay great, hang on one second.

Wolfe walks towards M.C and they interlock hands. Wolfe tries to

yank M.C off of his door like a decrepit piece of gum.

WOLFE(excruciating)

Why... did you think...this was... a good... idea?

M.CYou're breaking... my pelvis!

At this moment, a 6'3 towering combination of muscle and hair gel

rips open the door.

Wolfe and M.C go flying backwards, toppling into a few spare

cardboard pizza boxes.

TANNER FOX (late 20s) is livid with Wolfe as he sweats in his

sleeveless, V-neck t-shirt. Two features that were not originallypart of the shirt's design.

TANNERLet me touch you're eyes! Now!

Wolfe is on his feet, walking to his desk. M.C remains standing in

the corner.

Whenever Wolfe doesn't understand the reason behind something, he

always accompanies his "excuse me?" or "what?" with a hard squint

like his thick brows have had enough and are trying to crush his

brown eyes in an uprising.

WOLFE(french)

Escoozie?

TANNERDon't S.S. Cooz-ee me... Where is my hand cream? I've been

killing monkey bars and rope swing all day and now I'm

supposed to get my bi-weekly body massage from Roberta and

my eyes are killing me...(escalating)

...I can't find my special contact solution!

WOLFEMonkey bars? Rope swing? Sounds like you're training forpretty tough stuff. Ever consider trying the olympics?

TANNERYeah, the special olympics.

Beat.TANNER


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If you were... doing... them. Idiot.(pause)

Where is my solution? If I don't take these colored

contacts out soon my cornea's could be burn off.

M.CYou wear colored contacts?

TANNERDuh. "Blue makes the babes wanna bone". Ever heard of it?

Tanner stares a hole through Wolfe, who responds with a quizzical

look and shoulder shrug.

TANNERSeriously? Ugh, fine.

He searches the room one last time. It's not there.

TANNERLosers.

He storms out. M.C walks to the middle of the doorway, suctionnoises are heard from his feet.

M.CAwesome three man rescue last week by the way!

Tanner stops almost ten feet away from M.C and whips his head back

around.

TANNERWho the hell are you and why do you think it's okay to

talk to me?

M.C(pause)I'm... I'm M.C... M.C Buckles.

TANNERWell Mr. Butt cheeks, I saw you're secret agent door

entrance. It sucked... If you were sneaking up on me,

you'd be shot in the face like seven times by now and

probably be dead.

Tanner exits. M.C turns facing Wolfe.

WOLFE(back on phone)

I thought you nailed it, bro.M.C laughs to himself and turns to leave.WOLFE

(calls to M.C)Seltzer?

He pulls out the contact solution.


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WOLFE(to himself)

Dirt? Mmm no, too distinguishable.(looking around the room)

Maybe vinegar?

A few seconds pass as M.C has begun to exit.

M.C (O.S.)(distant)

Fine. One seltzer coming up.The phone is still on Wolfe's ear, with his hand covering the mouth

piece.

WOLFE(shouting)

And some vodka!(uncovers mouth piece)

This is gonna be awesome.

PHONE OPERATORI'm glad to be of service.

WOLFEWait, what?... Oh, really? Hell yes.

(pause)Yes, my brother will be thrilled.

(pause)Time to do a what now?

Wolfe looks down at his desk. A large packet of papers stapled

together is marked "URGENT".

WOLFEWell, I am a little busy... Say what now? For free?...

Well of course, I would love to do a survey for you.

INT. CIA HQ MULTI-PURPOSE AREA CONTINUOUS

M.C sneaks through a big area, headed toward the fridge. He hums a

secret agent song he has created, "Dum, dum, dum-dum, dum- (a moment

of silence to look around the corner)dum, dum-dum-dum. The camera

pans up to a large 10 feet wide, mirrored glass. We see on the other

side...

INT. CIA HQ PORTER'S OFFICE

...Two men in the room: TERRANCE PORTER (50s), strong jaw line, he's

thick but not fat, and has the stance of a military officer while he

scans outside the large window. Also in the room is HAROLD

PIGILESIAS (pronounced PEE-LAY-SEE-US)(50s), round and blubbery,

sits drinking a warm glass of milk.


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PORTER(laughs to himself)

What an egotistical position.

PIGILESIASWhat? You don't like it?

PORTERThe Creator? You don't think your heads just...

(using thumb and index finger)...a little too far up your ass?

PIGILESIAS(milk mustache)

Ha-ha! The title is half the fun Terry... Don't you want

to be something more than just, "Terrance Porter, Co-

Director?"... And I'll have you know that I did my

research.

PORTERYou thought of it while we were watching the Matrix! For

the last three days all you kept saying was "How cool was

The Architect?", "Why can't my name be something more like

The Architect?"

PIGILESIASOh, please.

Pigilesias sets down his milk and picks up the music remote. The

intro to DMX "X Gon' Give It To Ya" starts up with horns blaring.

PORTERTurn that down, I'm trying to think!

PIGILESIASAbout what?

Pigilesias turns down the music, thought we can still vaguely hear

the beat.

PORTERThe numbers, what else would it be?

Porter starts towards the wall, which has a projection on it.

"CRIMES SOLVED" stands at the top of the visual and two, vertical

bars extend from the bottom. The left bar is FBI and the other isCIA. DIA has solved 534 crimes and CIA has solved only 377.

PIGILESIASNumbers, bumbers, lumbers. Blah, blah, blah.

(then)We already talked about it. What more is there to think

about?


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Porter uses a remote to flip the projector screen to look at

profiles of different agents.

PORTERWhat about Johnson? Why can't we use him again? He never

remembers a damn thing.

PIGILESIASTrue. He isn't the brightest agent... Actually he isn't

even close... But his average time spent on a mission that

involves seduction is eight minutes flat.(pause)

Ever since we started bugging him we can just... pay

attention for him. He has actually gotten better at

flirting too, since he doesn't get those painful

concentration headaches now.

Porter flips to the next slide.

PORTER

What about C.J.? He is a bit of a lose cannon. Maybe

something like this would put him in his place... I mean,

he is the most deserving, what with all the compromises

we've made for him.

PIGILESIASCesar Jesus? (HAY-SOOS) No, no, no. He may kill just about

every person he has met on a case, but he also has killed

every person we need dead. And he really, really enjoys

it... He's one I'd rather not piss off.

Porter flips the slide again.

PORTERAnd the twins? All they do is meaningless paper work?

PIGILESIASWho? Rainy and Cloudy?

(pause)Yeah, I really think we should put them in harms way...

Both men try not to crack a smile from this statement. They can't

resist, and their gated lips explode with a flood of laughter. A few seconds and they settle back down.

Pigilesias gets up- no. He rocks and rises...nope. He musters up allhis strength a third time, barely getting to bent knee position, and

clutches the chair for the rest. He picks up his milk and joins

Porter, overlooking the large multi-purpose area.

PORTER (O.S.)You really think these men will go for something so...

stupid?


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A wide shot of the entire multi-purpose room displays both M.C and

Wolfe.

We see to M.C, who is towards the bottom-right corner of the screen

washing an all-black Lamborghini, with the nozzle of the hose he

first sings into it like a microphone but soon it is positioned in

front of his crotch. He is dancing, singing, and all-around enjoyinghimself as well.

M.C(yelling to Wolfe)

Look, I'm R.Kelly!

PORTERI thought the new guy was supposed to be something

special?

We shift focus to Wolfe. He sits towards the top-left of the screen,

on a bench with paper towels laid out in front of him. On the paper

towel is a bottle of Tanner's eye solution, which Wolfe is fillingwith a bottle of vodka. Wolfe is laughing uncontrollably as he mixes

this concoction.

PIGILESIASYeah, we said the same thing about Wolfe.

Porter takes a moment to drink it all in.

PORTEROK.

Without looking back, Pigilesias aims the music remote behind him

and clicks the song back on.

Both men embrace the song. "X gon' give it to ya, he gon' give it to

ya. X gon' give it to ya..."

INT. CIA HQ MULTI-PURPOSE AREA LATER

Wolfe sits at the same bench, with M.C and two spy twins, RAINY (28)

and CLOUDY (28), standing close by. We can see why Porter and

Pigilesias want to keep them around, as their outfits leave little

to the imagination. (Note to reader: I hope to see a distinct

difference in women's outfits between the different agencies, I'm

not a sleazy person.)

WOLFESo then, Tanner will be like "Oh no...

(fake squirting into eyes)...what's going on with my eyes." Right? Like, like... "it

burns!" Get it?

RAINY


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(shocked)But... that's his favorite bottle of solution. Why would

you do that?(chokes up)

He is going to be so sad.

Rainy buries her heard into the comforting arm of Cloudy as theywalk away.

CLOUDYDon't worry Rainy, boys are just weird.

They exit. M.C looks at Wolfe and shakes his head definitively.

M.CNo we're not.

M.C starts picking up the paper towel.

M.C

I thought you nailed it bro.

M.C uses the extra attention on the "N", but Wolfe doesn't seem to

notice.

WOLFERight?

The phone rings from inside Wolfe's office.

WOLFE(playing with bottle)

Not here.

The phone rings again.

WOLFEI'm not here!

M.C sighs, walks into the room and answers the phone.

M.CHello? Oh, hey Tina. Yeah, it's M.C...

(pause)

M.C glares at Wolfe. Wolfe misses the hint, as he acts out more ofTanner's possible reactions.

M.C...No, it is Wolfe's phone I just-

(pause)No. No, not yet. I'll go get it as soon as I get a sec-

(pause)


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Right. Pretty busy. Okay. And the bathrooms? I just did

those-(pause)

Wait, what?(long pause)

Okay. Alright thanks. No, I won't forget. Okay, bye. Yup,

bye. Bye.

M.C steps out of Wolfe's office, flabbergasted.

WOLFE(looking at his bottle)

What'd she want now? More expense reports? Ughh, Tina I

don't have the expense reports done. Get over it already!

M.CNo, it was Mr. Porter... he wants us to... go into his

office.

WOLFEWhy?

M.CI don't know... Didn't ask.

WOLFEWhen?

M.CRight now.

They look at each other nervously, but Wolfe's reaction soon becomes

curiosity.

WOLFEWell, shit... Let's go see what he wants.

INT. CIA HQ OUTSIDE ELEVATOR - MOMENTS LATER

Wolfe looks directly into SSIMBA's retina scanner.

WOLFESSIMBA, let me in. Now.

M.CI can never get that thing to work.

They enter the elevator.

INT. CIA HQ INSIDE ELEVATOR

M.C shivers. Wolfe cracks his neck.

SSIMBAWelcome Mr. Wolfe. Chipper as always.


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WOLFEDon't even bother with that attitude SSIMBA... Don't

even bother.

Wolfe pushes a button. The elevator goes up.

SSIMBA

Welcome Mr. Buckles.

Startled, M.C jolts into a balled fist stance.

WOLFERelax, bro.

He relaxes.

M.CWhat do you think he's calling us in for?

WOLFE

(slapping side elevator)Probably just wants me to take apart old SSIMBA here. Says

she's been slowin' down a bit. Ain't that right old girl?

SSIMBAI am faster and smarter than you will ever be.

WOLFEHeh. Yeah right. What kind of name is SSIMBA anyway?

SSIMBAWhat kind of name is Wolfe?

M.COooh, get 'em.

WOLFEPsh...

(turns to M.C)Hey, watch this.

(looks up)Tell me a joke SSIMBA.

SSIMBA(pause)

What do you call a wolf who has lost his way?

A beat passes and the elevator stops.

SSIMBAA where-wolf.

The door opens with a ding.

SSIMBA


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Ha-ha. Ha-ha.

M.C loves it. Wolfe even lets out a smirk as they walk out.

M.COh my gosh SSIMBA, you and my dad would get along so well.

The doors close and the mood gets a little more tense. They start along, slow trek towards the end door at the end of the hall.

M.CAre we... Are we getting fired?

WOLFENo.

M.C(hysterical to himself)

I can't lose my job. I don't even know how to get a job. I

don't even know how I got this job.

WOLFEWe're fine. Don't you work for like, less than nothing?

M.C(still to himself)

Well, we're still working out the kinks, but

technically... I'm an intern.(pause)

Was it the coffee? I keep telling them if they just called

the orders in advance I could save so much time.

WOLFEM. Seriously, stop. Deep breathe.

M.C gulps down a fresh chunk of air.

The door opens automatically. Porter and Pigilesias stand in the

center of a vast, extravagant room, maybe twenty feet away. Menacing

snarls across both their faces, they are almost unrecognizable from

before... Though Pigilesias still holds that god damn cup of milk in

his hand.

PORTER(nods his head up)

Men. Glad you could join us. Please come in.

A Beat. M.C holds his breathe.

M.C dramatically exhales as the reluctantly step through the

doorway, the doors making a large thud behind them.

INT. CIA HQ MR. PORTER'S OFFICE

WOLFE


20/25

20

T.P...(pivots head)

...Piggy-licious, pleasure to be here.

PIGILESIASFor the last time it's PEE-LAY-SEE-US!

(regroups)But you can just call me The Creator.

Wolfe gives him a look like "come on, seriously?".

M.C lunges forward and takes a turn convulsing each of their hands.

M.CIt is an honor to be here. Before we start, I would love

to lead the singing of our oath to the agency.

PORTEROath? We don't have an oath.

M.CI actually took the liberty of making one sir.

M.C's body becomes perfectly straight and his hands fold behind his

back as he jumps right into song.

M.C(clears throat - sing)

Oh My Fair Ay-gency/ How I Will Stand For Thee/(switching to baritone)Tears I Have Shed For You/ Blood I Shall Bleed-

PORTEROkay, enough!

(pause)Um, thank you for that Mr. Buckles, but we... we have much

more serious matters to discuss.

We see Wolfe deliberately mouthing "The CREE-AY-TOR" over and over

again as he examines the decorative room, avoiding Pigilesias'

irritated beam.

PORTER(point to chairs)Alright men. Please have a seat.

There are four black, worn leather chairs crowded around an aged

projector box that all spend their day staring at the wall. M.C and

Wolfe proceed to getting comfortable. Porter and Pigilesias stand by

each other, out of their view.


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Porter lifts the remote to turn on the projector. Music plays

Usher's "I wanna make love in this club."

Pigilesias spits out his milk. Porter fumbles with the remote. "In

this club. In this-" Porter finally turns off the music.

PORTERUhh, SSIMBA must be acting up again.

Wolfe turns his head and gives a look to M.C that says "right", not

believing a word Porter says. M.C is still lip-syncing the song. Porter picks up a new remote. The projector starts up with a black

screen and then reads "CONFIDENTIAL".

PORTERHere we are men. Alright. Wait. Lights!

The lights go out. Porter starts flipping through the projector.

PORTERGood. Now men, it has come to our attention that over the

past few months you two have been hard at work...

Wolfe shoots a questioning glance at M.C, who is relieved to hear

this news.PORTER (O.S.)

...doing everything we ask. Men...

Wolfe already has four fingers out and is lifts his pinky. He has

counted Porter say the word "men" five times now.

PORTER

Do you think we have been fair to you?

WOLFE(instantly)

Not at all. I hate it here. After like one day you stuck

me at a computer and said look up this shit for me. "Sit

in this corner all alone and put in this data." I haven't

gotten to do one cool thing yet.

PIGILESIASOn the first day we told you to go get the office some

groceries. Instead, you hit someone with a company

vehicle!

WOLFEI told you it wasn't my fault. He wasn't in the crosswalk!

PIGILESIASMaybe afteryou hit him!

Porter clicks on a slide-show.


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22

SILENCE fills the room for a few moments.

PORTERWell, it has been a year. And we think you have done

some... maturing.(pivots)

And what about you M.C? Have we been treating you fairly?

M.CWell, I haven't been interning here very long... Last

week, for my one month anniversary you let me throw a

grenade. That was cool! Even though it didn't really work.

PIGILESIAS(whisper to Porter)

Oh yeah, ha. We painted a potato grey... and told him it

was a live grenade. Haha... When it splattered on the

ground...(almost crying)

...we said it must have been a dud.

Porter puts a hand to his mouth. After a moment, he lets out a sigh

and clicks to the next slide.

PORTER (O.S.)Well men, the data has never been more up-to-date and on

point. The amount of time we spend on solving crimes has

been cut in half.

M.C gives Wolfe a congratulatory elbow nudge.

PORTERThe hot coffee, the washed vehicles, and the cleanbathrooms have all been top-notch.

(beat)Men, we've decided to give you two a... mission.

M.C smiles and does a small dance. Wolfe looks questioning, with the

pointer finger now raised for six or seven times Porter has said

"men".

MS of projector screen. M.C's profile pops up.

PORTER (O.S.)M.C, you have performed fairly... below average on ourtests. To be honest, I think you still need to figure out

how to put all your talent together. But Mr. Pigilesias

said this my be a perfect opportunity to prove you have

what it takes.

Porter's monologue continues in the background.


23/25

23

Wolfe looks up at the top of the page. It reads "MARIAH CAREY

BUCKLES".

Wolfe leans in towards M.C.

WOLFEWait, your name is Mariah Carey?

M.C(sighs)

Yeah. It was before she blew up though. I was born in '89

and my mom was a local fan of Mariah's. Ma thought she'd

just be an underground hit, but then she had to go have a

Vision of Love.

CU of projector screen and Porter's voice kicks back in.

PORTER (O.S.)Which brings us to Wolfe.

The projector slide clicks over and we say a picture of Wolfe

looking higher than a kite. Above his head reads "JAMES SUTHERLAND

BOND".

Porter's monologue continues in the background.

M.C squints at the screen.

M.CWait. Bond? As in

(Bond impression)Bond, James Bond. You're his son?

WOLFEOne of many I'm sure. I go by Jamie Milovy. Porter just

loves to bring it up whenever possible. He loves to say

I'm not "living up to my potential."

M.CBut you... I mean...

PORTERMen. I'm terribly sorry. Am I interrupting something?

M.C freezes in fear. Wolfe laughs.

WOLFENo, sir. Us men are listening sir.

PORTERGood. That's what I like to hear.

CUT back to projector screen. It clicks throughout following speech.

PORTER


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24

Now men, we have a basic retrieval mission for you.Slide click.

PORTERWe have Raphinon Muchachi. A civilian, and friend of

Tanner's. Apparently, Tanner decided he wanted to show off

to his high school rival "Mooch."

Slide click. High school photo.

PORTERMuchachi and Tanner went to high school together. Tanner

said he wanted to rub it in Mooch's face that he was a spy

now and that Mooch had...

Porter pauses and makes a disgusted face to himself and begins toquote Tanner.

PORTER..."And Mooch had peaked in high school and the only

reason they won the state title without him was because

Mooch was juicing... and was gay."

Porter lets out a groan, his head throbbing from using Tanner's

logic. He looks over at Pigilesias, who appears to be sleeping. He

shakes his head and continues.

PORTERAnyway men, the point is, Tanner sent his buddy somepictures of how cool he is now...

Clicks slide: Tanner is standing over a group of people he has

knocked out. He looks super pumped.

PORTER...And ended up sending Mr.Muchachi somewhere between 10

and 20 top secret pictures in his phone. Quite simply, we

need them back.

Porter clicks the next slide.

PORTERWe need you two to find him and bring his phone back tous. We don't know what he has or hasn't done with the

pictures, and we need to make sure they don't get into the

wrong hands.

Porter perks back up. He clicks to the last slide which reads, "THE

END. -porterhouse productions"


25/25

25

PORTERSo, Tina will have the file on Muchachi for you downstairs

and will tell you what to do next. Lights!

The lights shoot on, jolting Pigilesias who spills the last 1/4 of

his milk on the carpet.

M.C and Wolfe get up out of their seat and head for the door.

PORTERAnd men...

Wolfe tries to recount all the times Porter has said men.

PORTERDon't mess this up.

WOLFE M.C(to himself) Yes sir!

Eight?

The doors shut behind them. Porter turns around to Pigilesias, who

is slowly coming back to life.

PORTERSeriously?

PIGILESIASWhat?

PORTERI had to do the whole presentation by myself.

PIGILESIASI told you, I'm The Creator, not The Explainer.

(then)It seemed like it went well... That last line gave me

goosebumps. You nailed it.

PORTERRight?

A beat passes as Porter admires how menacing he can sound.

PORTER

Now clean that up. I don't want my carpet to get all...

soggy.

PIGILESIAS(dabbing the carpet)

The important thing is, the plan is in place. Now where is

the remote?

agents (1st 25 pages)

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