My second Happy Days movie script

[Race's Girl]

Happy Days 2: The Curse of the Misery Chick

INT. ROOM.

The room is dark, sparsely decorated with a sofa, a few wooden chairs, some curtained windows. The faint lighting in the room comes from the flames in the fireplace, casting a flickering glow spookily over everything. In the center of the floor is sprawled a young man in black clothes and ankle boots, his limbs twisted and jutting out at uncomfortable angles from his contorted body. He is motionless, a dark pool of his own blood spreading beneath him. As we slowly zoom in on him, the view slowly rotating, it gradually becomes apparent that the man is CHACHI.

SMASH CUT TO: INT. RALPH AND POTSIE'S APARTMENT--NIGHT.

RALPH suddenly sits up in bed. Even in the pale moonlight streaming in through the window, we can see his eyes bug out as he hyperventilates for a few moments. Calming down, he flips on a lamp that sits on the night-stand. He is obviously unclothed beneath the sheets and he holds them up to cover his chest as with his free hand, he takes a pad and a piece of charcoal from the night-stand and begins to sketch the image from his dream. A hand belonging to another person brushes against him.

POTSIE: (sleepily) Ralph, can you turn the light off?

RALPH: (still sketching intently) Not now...

POTSIE: You've had another of those dreams; haven't you?

RALPH: We each get inspiration in our own way.

POTSIE: (sitting up) But this isn't-- (sees picture) Wow, that's not--

RALPH: A water buffalo grazing in Central Park? No. Chachi lying on the floor with a pool of blood gradually spreading from his dead body? Yes.

POTSIE: Ralph, I know I'm not that smart, though I think I'm smarter than you think I am which is pretty smart--

RALPH: (irritated) Pots...

POTSIE: Ralph, how many dreams like this have you had?

RALPH: A few.

POTSIE: More than a few. Every night, you're having dreams about people you know getting killed. I was reading this book and I think maybe you have some subconscious feelings you need to deal with. I mean, I thought you liked Chachi.

RALPH: What do you care? Next week when Jennifer apologizes, you'll forget about me and deny that this ever happened for the fifth time.

POTSIE: Ralph, this isn't emotionally healthy! You're reacting out against people you know due to their apparent emotional neglect of you and fantasizing about their downfalls. This could really eat away at you until you spiral down into depression. You need some therapy.

RALPH: (setting his pad down) Oh, Pots, you genius, you!

RALPH embraces POTSIE and the two proceed towards considerable physical friendliness. The view closes in on the rough sketch on the pad.

FADE TO: EXT. UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN IN MILWAUKEE (UWM), ESTABLISHING SHOT.

A bell rings.

CUT TO: INT. HALLWAY.

Among the students walking the halls are RICHIE, RALPH and POTSIE both carrying their college books.

RALPH: So how are you doing?

RICHIE: Wondering if we overdid it.

POTSIE: I told you it would feel sore if you two did it too much.

RICHIE: I'm talking about what we did to Joanie's Fashion Club, Potsie, not the Fonz.

RALPH: Damnit. He's cooler than us, Rich. Fred and Mel'll set out to ruin your life.

RICHIE: Yeah but don't you feel the least bit guilty?

POTSIE: May I remind you of the dichotomy between us and them? Over there are the popular crowd, those concerned so much about social status that they don't care that they make themselves or others miserable. So very like a nest of giant ants, they follow the trails their comrades and exploiters leave behind, subject to the whims of popular opinion and fashion like a flag in the wind. Music of choice: the blathering hum of their own voices speaking of trivial matters. Drug of choice: adrenaline and endorphins brought out by engagement in dangerous and stupid acts. We fall in the other category, the outcasts, the thinkers, those who buck the trends in their iconoclastic ways because some things are just to idiotic to follow. We invent our own standards. Music of choice: rock 'n' roll. Drug of choice: books, writing, artistic expression.

RICHIE: It's not that clean-cut.

RALPH: True. Take the marching band, for example. In the parade last year, they stayed inside that stupid float instead of playing on top like they were supposed to. They thought their uniforms were too stupid-looking.

RICHIE: Meet the little musical creatures who hide among the flowers. (beat) So what was that what someone did to Chachi yesterday?

RALPH: He was having his regular breakup with Francine and looking for that something special he couldn't provide.

RICHIE: Intelligence?

POTSIE: That wasn't the word I'd use but it certainly helps in the performance.

RICHIE: I don't wanna know.

RALPH: That he wanted to shoot himself in the head?

RICHIE: Guys! Where were Melissa and Jennifer in all this?

POTSIE: Me and Jennifer have got an open relationship, Rich. Her only problem will be that she heard that noise.

RICHIE: You and your crazy sex lives...

RALPH: Oh, I also had another of those nightmares.

RICHIE: Who was dead this time? Clarkson?

RALPH: Actually, Chach.

RICHIE: Great. I'm the man of your violent dreams.

POTSIE: It's great. With this one, Ralph'll have a great painting. I told you about the exhibit the gallery wants to show of this series; haven't I?

RICHIE: "Death of a Generation". They'll be calling you the second coming of Maplethorpe.

RALPH: I hope so. Would you be willing to pose for the painting?

RICHIE: You better not have dreamed of me nude...

INT. A DIMLY LIT ROOM.

RALPH in one corner is painting a picture based on his recent dream by the light of a lantern. On the walls can be seen a series of grim paintings, the light bright enough to reveal what is on the paintings but not enough to make the people in them recognizable. Among the paintings can be seen: a woman lying on the floor, bleeding from the head; a man slumped against a wall, bleeding from the head, a framed picture on the floor next to him; a man with a knife sticking through his back; a man being thrown through a glass window; a woman with something long and thin being shoved down her throat; a man lying on the floor with a wire coat-hanger wrapped around his neck; a man on a sofa being strangled from behind; a woman lying in a contorted position on a floor; a man shot between the eyes; a woman being stabbed in the shoulder; a man being beheaded and many other acts of murder and mayhem.

EXT. ARNOLD'S DRIVE-IN, ESTABLISHING SHOT--NIGHT.

Pan upwards to the roof where TOMMY TAYLOR is hiding with a bucket. He is looking downwards waiting.

TOMMY: Come on, misery chick. Come on and get it.

Several people can be seen walking in and out of the club below. Finally one young woman with dark hair and in black can be seen approaching.

TOMMY: Yes!

TOMMY overturns the bucket dumping many liters of pig blood onto the woman below.

CUT TO: BELOW where the one who has been drenched in blood is SANDRA.

SANDRA: Damn it! (runs off)

TOMMY: Shoot! I'm sleeping alone for a week!

CUT TO: INT. ARNOLD'S DRIVE-IN.

The floor is covered with dancing people enjoying themselves, surrounded by a shell of tables. On the wall is a huge, bright banner reading "END OF THE FASHION CLUB PARTY". On stage, the Band consisting of RICHARD JORDAN CUNNINGHAM (saxophone) WARREN ELLIOT 'POTSIE' WEBER (guitar), RALPH HECTOR MALPH (piano) LAURA ELIZABETH ALLEN (lead vocal) and DAPHNE ANDREA FLYNN (drums) are performing. The song ends and people cheer.

RICHIE: Thank you! We'll be back in an hour for the second set so don't go away!

The band disbands as another band begins mounting the stage. RICHIE snares LORI BETH.

RICHIE: You still on for later?

LORI BETH: (unenthused) Yeah.

RICHIE: You don't sound too happy.

LORI BETH: Something doesn't feel right. I mean, look at them.

They look over at DAPHNE and FONZIE in an advanced state of making out.

LORI BETH: They look like they have this spark we don't.

LEATHER: Well, I hear that's because she'll--

RICHIE and LORI BETH look at LEATHER funny.

LEATHER: What?

LORI BETH: (to RICHIE) We'll talk about this.

RICHIE: Okay.

They kiss. RICHIE heads towards the bathroom.

CUT TO: THE AUDIENCE.

Among the formerly dancing people are DICK CLARK, the host of American Bandstand, his camera operator TODD BOOLE and his mike-boom operator STEWART STEVENSON.

DICK: Wasn't that great? We'll be back after these messages with what these people here thought of the first set. (to TODD and STEWART) Okay, guys, let's take five.

TANQUERAY approaches and embraces DICK.

TANQUERAY: Hey.

DICK: Hey.

TANQUERAY: Great show. I was hoping that after the show we could go to--

She is interrupted by a St. Bernard barking at the women's rest-room.

DICK: Hey, who let Cujo in here?

CUT TO: INT. A DISGUSTING MEN'S REST-ROOM.

RICHIE emerges from a stall and begins washing his hands. The camera pans to the bottom of another stall where two boots can be seen dropping down. The camera returns to RICHIE. In the mirror before him, the stall door can be seen opening and TODD emerges.

TODD: Hey, Rich.

RICHIE: (starting) Damn it, Todd! What are you doing in here?

TODD: Is there something wrong with me being here?

RICHIE: It's the cool guy's bathroom. See: no nerds.

TODD: I was just hoping we could finally spend some quality time alone together.

RICHIE: You've got to be kidding.

TODD: Do I look like I'm kidding? You're a great guy, Rich.

RICHIE: Screw you!

TODD: That's exactly what I was hoping for.

TODD lunges for RICHIE who heads for the door. TODD trips him sending him sprawling headlong on the floor. Before he can get up, he is tickling him under the arms and RICHIE is now giggling.

TODD: Great laugh, Kiddo.

CUT TO: RALPH and POTSIE ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE STALL.

RALPH: Before you commit a felony in the bathroom, be sure the other stalls are empty first.

Relieved, RICHIE hugs RALPH and POTSIE.

FADE TO: BLACK.

INT. LOCKER ROOM, UWM.

The room is darkened, most the players having already left.

TOMMY TAYLOR is standing by his locker already back into his street clothes, now busy combing his hair. We slowly stalk up on him as he picks up his book-bag and shuts the locker door. He begins to move off.

ELECTRONICALLY DISGUISED VOICE: Tommy Taylor.

TOMMY stops and looks at the newcomer. It is SMILEY, a person in a trench-coat and a smiley-face mask standing menacingly across from him. TOMMY is on the verge of breaking out laughing.

TOMMY: What the Hell...? Hey, Halloween's over. (beat) OK, ooh, you're so scary. Who's under that thing? (beat) Is that you, Chach you little twerp?

SMILEY, who has just been standing there, shakes his/her head slowly.

TOMMY: Okay, then who is it? (beat) Well? (beat) Look, Tough Guy, tell me who you are.

SMILEY: I've got a better question for you: how come someone who is otherwise so big is so small in the place it counts?

TOMMY: (enraged) I'm gonna kick your butt!

SMILEY: Guess again!

SMILEY pulls out a large hunting knife out of his/her sleeve making a loud snicker-snack as he/she does so.

SMILEY: You're an athlete. Let's see if you can run.

SMILEY lunges towards TOMMY who starts off and rams straight into the lockers. SMILEY shakes his/her head.

SMILEY: You really suck at this.

TOMMY: Eat this!

TOMMY grabs a football and tosses it at SMILEY's head knocking him/her over. TOMMY runs tripping over a bench. SMILEY gets up, comes after TOMMY and brings down the knife into the bench just after TOMMY runs off.

CUT TO: EXT. UWM.

TOMMY emerges from a side door into the evening air and runs out onto the athletic field.

TOMMY: Help me! Somebody help me, please!

SMILEY bursts out the side door and comes after TOMMY. TOMMY looks back and rams straight into a goal-post, knocking him out. SMILEY stands over him and shakes his/her head.

SMILEY: Murder looked so much more exciting in the movies.

INT. MEETING ROOM.

Inside an exceedingly dull room dominated by a table and a few chairs sits DR. MARGARET MANSON. She has a nicotine patch on her arm and is chewing a piece of licorice. Across from her sit DR. ARVID PRESCOTT and DR. VANCE CARPENTER.

CARPENTER: Dr. Manson, you've met Dr. Prescott before; haven't you?

MASON: We met at a conference once, I think.

PRESCOTT: As you know, for the past several months, Todd Audrey Boole has been under psychiatric observation. I have been asked to make a recommendation to the court whether he is fit to stand trial at this time. He is under indictment for the attempted harrasment of Richard Jordan Cunningham and later for escaping from police custody and assaulting a police officer.

MANSON: The officers around here are so stupid that someone can use the "what's that over there?" trick on them to steal their guns. I'm surprised it only took them three days to catch him again.

PRESCOTT: Uh, yes. As both of you have some familiarity with Boole, I would like to get your opinions as to his mental state.

CARPENTER: Well, Boole has had a difficult life. There is evidence to suggest a combination of Turner's syndrome, borderline personality disorder and excess sugar intake.

MANSON: Excuse me?

CARPENTER: Sugar is bad. Sugar makes you hyper. Hitler ate sugar.

MANSON: Give me a break!

CARPENTER: Boole has also suffered a significant amount of psychological trauma since early childhood. His father walked out on him when he was very young and his mother was a deranged hockey fan. His stepfather was always telling how worthless children were and beat him regularly. His intellectual progress suffered enormously. He was unusually behind in his classes. By the time he was in third grade, he was nearly as tall as the teacher. And then for a while he had exceedingly bad acne. Because of all this suffering and rejection, he was forced into an interpersonal style of acting out, being unable to delay gratification. He is so spiritually scarred that he has been left with a narrow and crude emotional range to his psyche. In order to shore up his low self-esteem, he has been putting up a façade which reflects his wish-fulfillment fantasies and subconscious cognitions regarding his own feelings of inadequacy for which he must overcompensate. He must fulfill his impulses to maintain his self-efficacy. This includes his feelings of sexual inadequacy, which is understandable given the puritanical and authoritarianly strict upbringing he was exposed to and the fact that he has only one testicle. The dissonance between the image demanded of him by the mores of our society and his genetic masculine predisposition overpowered him and resulted in the rape attempt. He was not in control of himself when he attacked Richard Cunningham. Under his libidinous impulses, he temporarily reverted to a state of bicamerality and simply obeyed them. There was no way he could be responsible for his actions. We ought to be compassionate and recommend he be placed in the best psychiatric care available so that his self-esteem can be properly rebuilt.

MANSON: Vance, you paid too much for that box of Cracker Jack you got your diploma out of.

PRESCOTT: Margaret!

MANSON: Todd Boole is more need of a jail cell than a psychiatric ward. He is a man without conscience. He only thinks about himself and feels no pity, no compassion, no mercy. He tried to attack Richard Cunningham because he wanted to, not because he was compelled to. The only thing that can be done for him is to lock him up. He is evil on two legs.

CARPENTER: (sarcastically) What exactly are the diagnostic criteria for "evil on two legs"?

PRESCOTT: Dr. Mason, since he has been in custody, Boole has been largely catatonic and only babbles word salad. Are you telling me it's an act?

MANSON: Have you ever looked into his eyes? Give it a try, because if you do, you won't see anything remotely human in them. All you will see is a cold, calculating monster, one who without the slightest pang of guilt would kill you and make your skull into a cereal bowl. He needs to be locked away forever where he can't hurt anyone and that means maximum security.

PRESCOTT: Okay. Thank you both for your opinions. After all this, is anyone up for the local bar?

EXT. LIMBER PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL--ESTABLISHING SHOT.

The Limber Psychiatric Hospital is a huge ugly building done in a grotesque, ornate style.

CUT TO: THREE YEARS LATER

INT. LIMBER PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL--SECURITY DESK.

In a sterile room with security monitors sits a rent-a-cop. DAVID VAN DRIESSEN, a hippie teacher from Highland, approaches.

VAN DRIESSEN: Well, hey, Dan.

RENT-A-COP: Mr. Van Driessen. Here to see our prize patient again?

VAN DRIESSEN: If you mean by that Todd Boole, then yes.

DAN: (standing up, picking up a huge chain of keys) I don't see what good you're doing him. He's barely moved in years.

INT. PATIENT'S ROOM.

VAN DRIESSEN enters TODD's room. It is sterile, with a bed, closet and bathroom but little else. TODD is sitting in a chair facing the window, most of his face out of view. The room is dark and outside it is night so there is little light streaming in.

VAN DRIESSEN: Hello, Todd. How are you today?

TODD remains motionless.

VAN DRIESSEN: I know, you're still catatonic, so I'm not expecting you to reply. But that's Okay, Todd. You'll get better when it's right for you. Anyway, I've brought some readings for you. I'm going to start with passages from All I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten and then I'll go on to The Tao of Pooh and The Ballad of the Lesbian Sea-Gull. I hope some of the wisdom in these words percolates down to you so when you start moving again you'll be a better person on the inside. (pulls out a book) Okay, let me begin.

TODD turns his head to look at VAN DRIESSEN. VAN DRIESSEN is shocked.

VAN DRIESSEN: Holy moly! That's good, Todd. Keep going.

TODD stands up and turns to VAN DRIESSEN.

VAN DRIESSEN: Excellent work, Todd. Come on. I know you've got it in you.

TODD advances and begins to strangle VAN DRIESSEN who drops his book.

VAN DRIESSEN: (barely able to speak) Now, this is a little more aggressive than what I had in mind, Todd.

TODD begins banging VAN DRIESSEN's head against the wall.

VAN DRIESSEN: Okay, fun's over. I think you should let me go now.

TODD lifts VAN DRIESSEN up by his neck and throws him through a plate glass window. VAN DRIESSEN's screams can be heard dopplering as he descends five floors to go splat on the hard pavement below.

CUT TO: SECURITY DESK.

DAN sits at his desk reading an issue of Fangoria ignoring the security monitors which clearly show TODD walking through the halls at a leisurely yet menacing pace. Suddenly, he emerges into the room, picks up one of the monitors, and before DAN realizes what's going on, TODD has slammed the monitor on his head and electrocuted him. TODD grabs DAN's gun and walks out.

NEWS DESK.

NEWSREADER: Meanwhile, our top story for today: police report that last night two people were killed when twenty-six-year-old Todd Boole escaped from Limber Psychiatric Hospital. Boole was undergoing treatment for a catatonic trance he had fallen into after attempting to attack UWM student Richard Cunningham almost three years ago. The dead include David van Driessen, a former teacher from Jefferson High School. Van Driessen had been making weekly visits to Boole, hoping to help his therapy. Van Driessen died when he fell five stories after being thrown through a window. Police have not released the name of the other victim. People should be on the lookout for Boole. He is a Caucasian male, about five-foot-nine with a buzzed scalp and an overall scary visage. He should be considered armed and dangerous. If you see him, call the police immediately at 976-3845. Do not try to apprehend him yourself. There is a reward of one thousand dollars being offered by Van Driessen's family for information leading to the capture or death of Boole.

[Race's Girl]

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT, KITCHEN.

LORI BETH is sitting at the table eating breakfast. RICHIE JR, a 2 year old that resembles RICHIE, walks along the floor. RICHIE, wearing only a bathrobe, stumbles into the room. His hair is still wet from a recent shower; he looks like the walking dead.

LORI BETH: Good morning, Sizzle Lips. Have a nice night of binge drinking?

RICHIE collapses in a chair.

RICHIE: (weakly) Must... have... coffee...

LORI BETH: (getting up and pouring a cup) That bad, huh? You look terrible this morning. Get hit by a truck on the way home? (hands RICHIE the cup)

RICHIE: (taking a big gulp) I wish. Then I would feel better. (beat) I hate this bitter rot-gut. Give me some sugar, Sweet Knees.

LORI BETH: (scooting the sugar bowl over) So the new form of self-destruction is going to be cirrhosis?

RICHIE: (dumping sugar into his coffee) Naah. No point in adding to my suffering with hangovers.

LORI BETH: Yet you have done so well towards that end.

RICHIE: I had food poisoning. I needed to sterilize my alimentary canal.

LORI BETH: I love it when you talk dirty, Rich.

RICHIE: It's not going to happen, L.B.

LORI BETH: Yeah, yeah. But of all the nights for you to do this...

RICHIE: What, did I ruin your dinner party?

LORI BETH: No, the photo shoot, the one where you're supposed to be a subject. And Our son's not cooperative enough to be a good substitute.

RICHIE: You ought to know better than to try to get a kid to do anything. (beat) How did you get me to agree to the photo shoot in the first place?

LORI BETH:You might have been smoking pot at the time. Anyway, I'll have to let Ralph improvise. How does "A Portrait of Self-Abuse" sound?

RICHIE: Try "The Curse of the Misery Chick".

LORI BETH: Oh man. More nightmares or are you up to hallucinations?

RICHIE: We shouldn't have done it, Lori Beth.

LORI BETH: And this from someone who doesn't have a conscience. I've got to drive Ralph over to the studio to set up so he'll have to put off talking in circles with you till later. Be back in about an hour.

RICHIE: Maybe that hurricane will hit Middleton before then...

LORI BETH: Not likely, so be there.

RICHIE: Yes, Mom.

LORI BETH: That's the spirit. Try to wear those white clothes I've laid out for you. Your usual outfits won't look too good in black-and-white.

RICHIE: You want me to put on some aftershave, too?

LORI BETH: Naah. If anything, with how skinny you are, I might be able to pass you off as an anorexic.

RICHIE: And you know how much I want to get that label.

LORI BETH: Oh, before you get excited over this, the news this morning reported that Todd's broken out of the looney bin.

RICHIE: Say what?

LORI BETH: Killed someone named Van Driessen in the escape. Dropped him out of a window and made him go splat on the sidewalk.

LROI BETH: He was a teacher at Jefferson High. You would think with all the air in his head that he'd float.

LORI BETH: Those spiritual types, they tend to get killed in horror movies. In any case, I need to get off my butt. (patting RICHIE's shoulder) Don't keep me waiting, honey. Later. (exits)

EXT. FONZIE'S APARTMENT.

FONZIE and DAPHNE exit the house, each carrying an open can of soda and get in a convertible Ferrari, DAPHNE in the driver's seat and FONZIE shotgun. As DAPHNE starts the car, FONZIE turns on the radio which plays Johnny Cash's "I Walk The Line".

DAPHNE: That sucks. Find something else, Fonz.

FONZIE: Sorry.

FONZIE fiddles with the controls and produces Elvis Presley's "Devil In Disguise".

DAPHNE: Cool.

They each take a sip of soda and the car pulls away from the curb.

EXT. THE STREETS OF MIDDLETON.

The Ferrari weaves recklessly through light traffic as DAPHNE and FONZIE sing along with the song on the radio and drink soda. Due to a lack of attention on the driver's part, the car does not progress straight down the lane it is in but swerves a lot and runs a red light, narrowly missing being hit by two other cars, whose drivers do not refrain from using their horns. Coming to a minor hill, the Ferrari leaves the ground briefly (cf. The Dukes of Hazard).

FONZIE and DAPHNE: (singing along with the music) Let's walk up to the preacher
And let us say I do,
Then you'll know you'll have me
And I know that I'll have you,
Don't be cruel to a heart that's true,
I don't want no other love,
Baby, it's still you I'm thinking of

Don't be cruel to a heart that's true,
Don't be cruel to a heart that's true,
I don't want no other love,
Baby, it's still you I'm thinking of.

The car stops at a stop light. NIKKI, LISA, ANGIE and JENNY are standing by the curb. FONZIE smiles at them and they smile back.

FONZIE: (to the women) Wanna ride, Ladies?

DAPHNE: (elbowing FONZIE) Fonz! I'll kill you if you even think of cheating on me.

FONZIE: (as the car starts moving again) Jerk.

FONZIE and DAPHNE resume their singing and soda-drinking. At a particularly strong chord in the song, FONZIE and DAPHNE chuck their now-empty soda cans out the window. The cans narrowly miss hitting OFFICER KIRK who waves his fist angrily. The Ferrari then knocks over a mailbox and a dog has to jump out of the way to avoid being hit. Finally, DAPHNE lets her car drift into the on-coming lane and hits a Honda Accord. DAPHNE goes through the windshield of the Ferrari and comes to a rest on the hood. FONZIE is spared this indignity by a properly functioning air-bag. However, when he steps out of the Ferrari, a Porsche, screeching to a halt, hits him, knocking him to the sidewalk.

FONZIE: (his eyes opening wide) I have awakened again!

DAPHNE: (weakly) Jeez.

VAL gets out of the Porsche.

VAL: Damn it! Can't you watch where you're driving?

FONZIE: How dare you make spurious accusations against the Great Fonzarelli and his servant?

ZOOM OUT TO: RICHIE.

RICHIE walks down the sidewalk. He still looks tired and is dressed in a white shirt, a grey suit and black loafers.

RICHIE: Poor Fonz. If I were his worst enemy, I'd be laughing.

EXT. O'BRIEN ART BUILDING, ESTABLISHING SHOT.

The O'Brien Art Building is a one-story brick building, antiquated and ugly.

INT. O'BRIEN ART BUILDING, CORRIDOR.

Down a dull corridor walks RICHIE. He pauses, takes a hip flask out and takes a drink before replacing it in his backpack. He finds the proper room and enters.

INT. O'BRIEN ART BUILDING, PHOTOGRAPHY STUDIO.

It is a white room with many lights and a white background tacked to the wall with a mattress draped with a black comforter on the floor before it. RALPH is there with a very large camera with POTSIE watching.

RALPH AND POTSIE: Hey, Rich!!

RICHIE: Hey. I can't believe I'm dressed like this.

RALPH: I wanted you wearing something which suggested you were pure and virginal in a fairly blunt way.

RICHIE: Yeah, that's me with the girl from College I met and married.

POTSIE: Don't worry, Rich. It'll also show the gradations in shading better than flat black. Why don't you have a seat on the mattress over there?

RICHIE: I'm not really sure I'm up to this.

RALPH: (taking RICHIE's backpack) You'll be fine. Besides, this could be therapeutic for you.

RICHIE: (sitting on the mattress) Yeah, right.

POTSIE: It will. Trust me. Okay, smile.

RICHIE looks even more annoyed.

RALPH: Okay, don't smile then. Be miserable but with feeling. That's it. (begins snapping pictures) Beautiful. Now change positions some.

RICHIE: Me sitting here like a bump on a log isn't good enough?

POTSIE: Ralph needs a few nice shots for a grade. Try leaning back, tossing your hair about, stuff like that.

RICHIE flops back on the mattress limply.

RALPH: I suppose that's a start. (snaps a few pictures) How about a pose involving you putting some weight on your limbs?

RICHIE: You want me to jump on the mattress?

POTSIE: No... You're in desperate need of loosening up. (takes a bottle of soda from a table) Drink this.

RICHIE: Is it cyanide?

RALPH: It's a soda. You need to loosen up.

RICHIE: (looking wryly at RALPH and POTSIE) I'm not spontaneous enough, you guys?

RALPH: If you were spontaneous, we wouldn't be using this mattress for photographs. Drink it.

RICHIE gulps some of the soda.

RICHIE: Satisfied?

POTSIE: A little more. You've developed a bit of a tolerance.

RICHIE complies then hands it back to POTSIE

POTSIE: Thanks, Rich. (takes a sip of soda himself before putting it back on the table) Okay, back to work. How about you kneel on the mattress?

RICHIE: (complying) Will this make me more lifelike?

RALPH: Maybe. (snaps more pictures) Great, now with feeling. (snaps more pictures) Now lean forwards and put some weight on the palms of your hands.

RICHIE: (complying) If the next thing you want to do is put a dog collar on me--

RALPH: No, no. I'll get Mel in here if I want to do that. What if... Why don't you take the jacket off and then resume that position?

RICHIE: (removing jacket) Oh, yeah. Now you can see the highly obscene skin on my arms. (tosses away jacket, resumes position) How's this?

POTSIE: You look like a pile of blocks. Okay, close your eyes.

RICHIE: I know what you did the last time I did that.

RALPH: Wrong context, Rich. I wanna use a relaxation technique on you. Close your eyes.

RICHIE unhappily does so.

RALPH: Okay, now I want you take some deep breaths... That's it. In... And out... In... And out... Okay, now I want you to picture yourself in a location you feel comfortable. Imagine that you're doing something very relaxing, something that will flush all the pain and worry out of you. In... And out... In... Doing good, Rich.

RICHIE looks visibly more relaxed. RALPH begins snapping pictures.

RALPH: Keep it up, Rich. Good. You're looking good. Okay, let's try something different. (begins fiddling with RICHIE's shirt)

RICHIE: What are you doing?

RALPH: Unbuttoning your shirt so I can see your chest.

RICHIE: I'm not a woman, Ralph. I'm a guy.

POTSIE: You don't give yourself enough credit. Lean your torso forwards a bit. There you go.

RICHIE: You're trying to make me look cheap; aren't you?

RALPH: I'm trying to portray your inner self. I know there's a powerful youness inside you just waiting to burst out if you give it a chance.

RICHIE: Who's this Eunice and why can't she get a body of her own?

RALPH: (coming around to RICHIE's side) Turn your head towards me and tilt it about thirty degrees.

RICHIE complies, his chest now fairly obvious.

RALPH: That's it. (begins shooting again) Keep it up. Show me the tiger inside. Good. Show me the fire with feeling. Excellent. Okay, drop one of the shoulder bits.

RICHIE: (complying with a bit of a smile) Am I enticing you now?

RALPH: Definitely. (begins shooting again) There you go. Okay, show us sexy. Now improvise, Rich.

As RALPH shoots, RICHIE changes position a few times then pauses and pulls off his shirt revealing her whole torso.

POTSIE: Wow, I guess you're feeling better. You're changing gears pretty fast.

RICHIE: I liked my happy thought.

RALPH: All right, keep it up. (begins shooting again) That's it... That's it... Okay, that's almost perfect. Hold still.

RICHIE is leaning back on his hands while he has his legs folded up before him. POTSIE approaches and brushes the hair off RICHIE's face.

POTSIE: Your hair feels very silky today.

RICHIE: It usually is. Just the conditioner I use.

POTSIE: That explains that wonderful smell. What do you do for your skin?

RICHIE: It's called "soap".

RICHIE: I'm sorry. (rushes out)

RALPH: (sighing, falling flat on his back on the mattress; beat) You're such a Potsie.

FADE TO: EXT. VEDDER APARTMENT BUILDING, ESTABLISHING SHOT--NIGHT.

Crickets can be heard in the background.

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM.

In the midst of the grimly decorated room, RICHIE sleeps uneasily in his bed.

FEMALE VOICE: Rich... Oh, Rich.

RICHIE: (groggily) Joanie?

VOICE: Rich.

RICHIE: (opens his eyes) Oh my god!

PAN TO SHOW: A MIRROR.

JOANIE, looking as if she's a walking corpse, dirty and dressed in rags, floats on the other side of the mirror, her fingertips against the glass. Behind JOANIE can be seen the flames of Hell.

JOANIE: It was you who did this to me.

RICHIE: (approaching the mirror) No.

A hand reaches out for RICHIE's shoulder. He spins, finds JOANIE standing behind him, along with ANGELA and FARRELL also looking like the walking dead.

RICHIE: Holy crap!

JOANIE: You ruined my life!

RICHIE: It was self-defense.

FARRELL: Sure, like even you believe that.

ANGELA: Was it self-defense all the suffering we had to go through?

FARRELL: My parents haven't been able to trust me since. I've been a virtual prisoner at home.

JOANIE: You, of course, know what Mom and Dad did, searching my room, stealing half my stuff, not letting me go out on dates. Who put that idea of a pregnancy test in their heads?

ANGELA: I couldn't walk in a room without the teachers suddenly stop talking and pretend they didn't. One even called me a whore to my face.

RICHIE: You set yourselves up to suffer. You've got no one to blame but yourselves.

ANGELA: Yeah right. Tell that to my therapist. Would you like to explain the scars on my wrists to him?

FARRELL: How about what happened after my parents searched my room and found my little stash of cocaine? Was I hurting anyone with it? No. But one thing leads to the next and I find myself in juvenile hall losing my purity to someone with halotosis.

RICHIE: And all those freaks, they chose a new role model...

FARRELL: ...someone who claimed not to be vain or care about popularity, only into depth...

ANGELA: ...but instead made a big deal of her "natural" beauty, showing off that not-so-ordinary body through those not-so-ordinary clothes...

JOANIE: ...and becoming the one everyone talked about, the most popular person in school!

FARRELL: Hypocritical bitch!

ANGELA: Careful. Maybe she's not as intellectual as she thinks she is.

JOANIE: And the worst of it was how every piece of low-life suddenly thought they were hot, all on account of you.

ANGELA: Yeah! "I'm the nice guy in the band at Arnold's! Does that make me a jock now?"

FARRELL: "Look at me! I'm a rotten little loser with no fashion sense and I'm a virgin! No one liked me before but thanks to Richie, I now have the guts to spread chaos by asking you out!"

JOANIE: "Hey, check me out, the loudmouthed, stupid-laughing, total freakazoid geek with bad acne! You must respect my humanity now. And you must join us in paying homage to our new god. We worship you, Richie!"

JOANIE, FARRELL AND ANGELA: (dancing around RICHIE) We worship you! We worship you!

JOANIE: Why didn't you finish the job, Rich? Sometimes, dead is better.

RICHIE: No!

SMASH CUT TO: SAME.

RICHIE sits bolt upright in bed, sweating profusely.

RICHIE: I can't live like this anymore!

CUT TO: EXT. VEDDER APARTMENT BUILDING, FRONT STEPS--NIGHT.

LORI BETH and FONZIE are talking.

FONZIE: I'm sorry about tonight, Lori Beth. This ain't never happened to me before.

LORI BETH: Don't worry. It happens to every guy sooner or later.

FONZIE: So this never happened with Ralph or Potsie?

LORI BETH: Um... Well... We'll talk about that some other time. Call me later?

FONZIE: Yeah, sure.

FONZIE kisses LORI BETH. LORI BETH slaps him across the face.

FONZIE: I got to go, Lori Beth. I'll be back again tomorrow. I promise.

LORI BETH: You'd better be, Fonz or Richie'll never forgive you.

RICHIE, who has just arrived, sees that LORI BETH looks shocked.

RICHIE: (disturbingly calmly) Lori Beth, are you okay?

LORI BETH: I'm fine, Rich. It'll all be fine in a little while. Except that the Fonz kissed me against my own will so I slapped him.

RICHIE: Try to remember all the back-story, Lori Beth. There were hints from the day we met. You might even argue your interest in me was a way of sublimating Fonzie's interest in you in a socially acceptable manner.

LORI BETH: You and that psychology course. Still, you may be right.

RICHIE: You don't feel ashamed of what we did; do you?

LORI BETH: Not really. Given all the things I have to feel guilty about, this is nothing.

RICHIE: Gee, it was fun for me, too.

LORI BETH: That's not what I meant, Rich. I know your folks were shocked when we first did something like this but it doesn't bother me and this is exactly how I pictured my life turning out.

RICHIE: You know you don't have to try to kill yourself to get me in bed. Besides, you know I'll still respect you in the morning.

LORI BETH: Rich?

LORI BETH: Yes?

RICHIE: Shut up and kiss me.

RICHIE and LORI BETH begin to engage in face-sucking again.

INT. HALLWAY, APARTMENT BUILDING.

FONZIE, looking forlorn and carrying a dozen roses, comes walking down the hall towards RICHIE and LORI BETH's apartment. Coming to the door, he lightly knocks, hears no answer except for RICHIE JR's snoring.

FONZIE: (to himself) They must be asleep.

Reaching into his pocket, FONZIE gets out his key-chain and begins opening the door.

FONZIE: Good thing Red never demanded the key back.

Entering, FONZIE proceeds into the living room. The room is darkened. He slowly proceeds, moving towards the bedroom. Opening the door, FONZIE looks shocked, drops the flowers and starts to stomp away. RICHIE emerges from the bedroom in only a bed-sheet.

RICHIE: Fonz! Wait-- (stepping on roses) Ow ow ow! Hold on!

FONZIE: (turning; surly) What?

RICHIE: If those are for Lori Beth, it means an apology, right?

FONZIE: Yeah but it looks like you and L.B were making a detailed study of each other's anatomy.

RICHIE: Okay, it is what it looks like. But you got to understand, I was so depressed that she just had to hold me, cheer me up--

FONZIE: And so you two naturally took your clothes off. That's just great! Are you nutso?

LORI BETH emerges from the bedroom wearing only an oversized T-shirt.

LORI BETH: (stepping over the roses) What is your problem, Fonz?

FONZIE: Me? What did you do earlier on?

LORI BETH: You kissed me against my own will, Fonz. Get a life. I'm just pointing out to you that it's not like I've reconfigured your neurons or anything like that. There was no brainwashing, just two people who have been under a lot of stress lately giving in to their mutual attraction and achieving some tension release. That's all.

FONZIE: Fine, be that way. I hope you two are really happy together.

FONZIE exits, slamming the door behind himself.

LORI BETH: (sighs) Is the Fonz always ruled by his hormones?

RICHIE: Sometimes he is!

RICHIE and LORI BETH suddenly embrace and fall down on the floor and out of view of the camera. LORI BETH's shirt suddenly flies up into view.

CUT TO: EXT. UWM--DAY.

It is a bright, sunny day. Among buildings about two centuries old with a lot of nice stonework and a large numbers of trees stroll a plethora of college students, many of them nubile young coeds. We pan across the scene to a large tree. Sitting nearby, on the hood of his car, staring off into space, is RICHIE, looking very unhappy. He is dressed in black and is wearing sunglasses. The camera pauses there for a while as RICHIE drinks from a hip flask. RICHIE produces a harmonica from his pocket and plays a sad tune. LORI BETH approaches. She is in a red T-shirt, black shorts and sneakers and has obviously just been running.

LORI BETH: Rich! It's almost time for your lecture, you know.

RICHIE: Your concern's touching. Do you think that because we've made love that anything has really changed?

LORI BETH: Hey, even if it isn't me, you can still do better than mope about the past.

RICHIE: Gee, thanks for reminding me. I'm perfectly over my other ex-girlfriends. Oh, Hell, I probably couldn't stand my constant nightmares either.

LORI BETH: And in the time which has passed, you have sprung back to being your cheery self, which must be why you're acting out a death-wish. You need to move on, put the past behind you and find someone else.

RICHIE: Yeah, like telling me to do that is going to help.

LORI BETH: You need to get over this. The big Halloween event is tonight. Ralph and Potsie are organizing the annual jerk hunt if you want to come along.

RICHIE: Jerk hunt?

LORI BETH: It's a tradition here that they find a deserving person every Halloween and make them suffer. I think you'll like the intended victim.

RICHIE: I'm not in the mood for making others suffer. I've done it too much in my life.

LORI BETH: You really must be depressed then. Well, you're not getting off that easy. We're going to the party in the Quad even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. See you later, Sizzle Lips.

RICHIE: Lucky me.

CUT TO: AXL GOMPERTZ, in work overalls, puts on a white mask (like Michael Myers). In the midst of several blocky dormitories, he begins lumbering forward threateningly. In the background the theme music from Halloween can be heard. This continues for a few moments until the theme music suddenly breaks down into cacophony, stopping as AXL freezes in his tracks, wincing at the noise.

CUT TO: AXL'S FOOT, which is standing on a synthesizer.

JENNIFER JEROME, dressed like the Grim Reaper, is sitting on the grass nearby.

JENNIFER: Axl! Watch where you're going!

CUT TO: AXL.

AXL: (sheepishly) Uh, sorry. (sneaks off)

JENNIFER shakes her head dismissively and begins playing the piano theme from Psycho.

CUT TO: SEVERAL OTHER STUDENTS IN COSTUMES OF HORROR FILM CHARACTERS including POTSIE as the Crow, EVAN as Jason Voorhees, RALPH as Freddy Krueger, MEL as Pinhead, FRED as the Mummy, BRAD as Norman Bates as his mother, MELISSA as the Bride of Frankenstein, TOM as Dr. Frank-N-Furter, BUNNY as Count Dracula, LOUISE as Candyman and FONZIE as the Wolfman. Also present are RICHIE in a long, dark robe and LORI BETH in a slicker and boots. All the students are on the move.

CUT TO: EXT. THE STREETS OF MIDDLETON.

ANGELA is walking down the street when she encounters the mob.

ANGELA: (really fake smile) Hi, guys! I've got to go--

LOUSE: Is Joanie where you said she'd be?

ANGELA: Well, um--

BUNNY: Get to the point. Remember: if you lie to us, it'll be you facing our wrath.

ANGELA: (sadly) Yeah.

LOUISE: Excellent.

CUT TO: EXT. A BEAUTY PARLOR.

JOANIE exits the beauty parlor as the costumed students turn a corner in the distance. She ignores them and walks away from them.

CUT TO: THE COSTUMED STUDENTS.

LORI BETH now puts on a fisherman's hat and RICHIE puts on a Ghost Face mask. The students hasten their pace.

CUT TO: JOANIE.

She stops at a "DON'T WALK" crossing sign. She looks around idly and notices the band of costumed students approaching quickly. The costumed students catch up with JOANIE as the sign changes to "WALK" and follow her across the street but maintain a distance of several meters. A portable phone rings and JOANIE pulls the piece of noisy electronics out of her purse and answers it.

JOANIE: (into phone) Hello?

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Hello.

JOANIE: (into phone; after a pause) Yes?

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Who is this?

JOANIE: (into phone) Maybe you've got a wrong number.

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) I'm not sure. Who am I talking to?

JOANIE: (into phone) Tell me who you are first.

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Why?

JOANIE: (into phone) You called me!

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Oops.

JOANIE: (into phone; after a pause) And you are...

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) It doesn't matter. I just want to talk to you.

JOANIE: (into phone) If this conversation's not going to go anywhere, I'm hanging up.

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Tell me: since it's Halloween, why aren't you wearing a costume?

JOANIE: (into phone) How would you know that?

CREEPY VOICE: (through phone) Because I'm looking at you right now.

JOANIE looks around and notices that RALPH is holding a portable phone in the proper position to speak into it.

JOANIE: (facing the approaching students) This is not funny!

COREY: This is not a joke! (points downwards) On this very spot--

CURTIS: (to COREY) Uh, Corey, we're not on Ryan Street.

COREY: (pointing to 3:00) On that very spot in 1689, Liam Howard, an innocent man, was hung for a murder he didn't commit. And right before they strung him up, he cursed them that he would return from the dead every Halloween and raze the place to the ground unless a guilty person was punished.

MELISSA: (brandishing a hook) We know what you did in high school.

JOANIE: You don't mean--

JENNIFER: Let's get the jerk!

MOB: Killers are coming! Killers are coming! Kill her! Kill her now!

The mob chases JOANIE down the street, three blocks to the left and down an alleyway. JOANIE turns a corner and sees the mob run past her as she holds her breath. Exhaling, she starts moving perpendicular to them for a moment until she nearly rams into FRED and MEL making her give a short scream.

MEL: Are you scared yet, Joan?

JOANIE: What kind of stupid game is this anyway?

MEL: There are certain rules that have to be followed in playing a Halloween prank. The first is to choose a worthy victim.

JOANIE: I don't have to put up with this.

MEL: The second is to choose a deserved torture.

JOANIE: (pulling out her cell phone) That's it. I'm calling the police.

MEL: (knocking JOANIE's cell phone to the sidewalk) The third is to make sure the victim has no escape.

JOANIE turns to run, but discovers that the other costumed students are standing behind her. JOANIE screams.

SMASH CUT TO: EXT. THE DUMPSTER BEHIND A GOOD TIME CHINESE RESTAURANT.

MEL drops a struggling JOANIE into the dumpster.

JOANIE: (as she hits the garbage inside) Ow!

FRED: Good work, people. Party in the Quad in ten minutes!

The crowd cheers and exits. A moment later, a very dirty JOANIE climbs slowly out of the dumpster and falls on the asphalt.

JOANIE: Ow! (starts walking away; to herself) Damn it, Rich! Why did you have to get me into this stupid mess?

INT. ANGELA AND JOANIE'S APARTMENT.

FARRELL, ANGELA, GORDON, GRANT and GRAHAM are present. ANGELA plays something creepy on a flute as GORDON, GRNAT and GRAHAM listen. FARRELL looks out the window at the Quad.

FARRELL: Damn it! Who came up with this stupid tradition of a "jerk hunt"?

GORDON: It goes back to the 20s. I think some of the mobsters got drunk and decided to take justice into their own hands.

FARRELL: That's just what we needed! I've been harassed for the past three years. The last thing I need is to be attacked by a bunch of idiots.

ANGELA: (stopping playing) Don't worry. You're not this year's target. You didn't make it past the third round in the selection committee.

FARRELL: How would you know that?

ANGELA: (shrugs) So I filled out a few surveys. Don't worry; I voted for that stupid guy who lives next door.

GRANT: The guy with the pigeon?

ANGELA: His idiot roommate. He's an obnoxious slob.

GRANT: Ah.

FARRELL: Well, if I'm not this year's target, who is?

Enter JOANIE from another room, holding a half-empty bottle of beer, having cleaned herself up and changed her clothes.

JOANIE: I was. (takes a drink)

GRAHAM: Joanie! Are you Okay?

JOANIE: (sits down near FARRELL) No, I'm not Okay! I was dropped in a dumpster, damn it! Do you know what it's like to have to clean garbage out of your hair?

ANGELA: Ew!

JOANIE: They had to do it right after I left the beauty salon. One good hairdo down the drain. What else could go wrong today?

Two people in long robes and wearing goblin masks burst in, screaming at the top of their lungs. JOANIE, ANGELA, FARRELL, GRAHAM, GORDON and GRANT also scream until the "goblins" break into a fit of laughter.

FARRELL: What's so funny?

Still laughing, the "goblins" remove their masks, revealing themselves to be HEATHER and EVAN.

HEATHER: The looks on your faces!

EVAN: We had so much fun on the "jerk hunt" we just couldn't resist adding a surprise twist!

ANGELA: (approaching, menacingly holding her flute) Go on, you two! Get out of my apartment! Now!

HEATHER and EVAN start to leave.

HEATHER: What's wrong with her?

EVAN: Sounds like she's got that flute stuck up her--

HEATHER: Evan!

FARRELL: That's it! Graham, we're out of here!

EXT. THE QUAD.

The Harpies are playing to a crowd of students, mostly in costume, before them, the song being a rendition of "Matchbox". STEWART is walking with and talking to a coed when his cell phone rings.

STEWART: Hold that thought, baby. (answers cell phone) Stewart Stevenson here. Talk to me. (beat) How did this happen? (beat) Dick! How could you drive in that condition? (beat) Of course, it matters! You were supposed to be here an hour ago! (beat) What do you mean "Cornholio is back"? He's supposed to be on medication! Let me speak to the Great Void's messenger...

STEWART and the coed pass by RICHIE who is standing around looking bored. RICHIE sights LORI BETH who sidles up to her.

LORI BETH: What do you think, honey?

RICHIE: If I give you some catnip, will you go away?

LORI BETH: Rich, you're being so depressed. You need to release some of that tension.

RICHIE: I was in the Bahamas this summer but that didn't do any good.

LORI BETH: I'm not talking about moping on the beach. All you did was depress the entire Caribbean. You can mope anywhere.

RICHIE: So, what are you proposing?

LORI BETH: (moving closer) Maybe you should find a special someone.

RICHIE: Excuse me?

LORI BETH: You know, someone who gets that adrenaline pumping and makes your neck flush. Someone you can release your animal passions on over and over until you can lie back and bask in the warm glow of each other's bodies.

RICHIE: (moving closer herself) Are you writing a romance novel?

LORI BETH: Who said anything about romance?

RICHIE and LORI BETH are about to kiss when FONZIE, dressed in a white T-shirt, jeans, and with a black sweater tied around his waist, approaches, somewhat discoordinated. He tries to kiss LORI BETH but she backs off.

LORI BETH: What have you been drinking, Fonz?

FONZIE: (slurred) Only a few six-packs of beer. Where have you been hiding out?

LORI BETH: Trying to cheer up Rich here.

FONZIE: Hi, Red. You don't look happy.

LORI BETH: You were supposed to be here a while ago.

FONZIE: I would have been here but I'm, you know, trying to find Daphne right now, trying to meet with her, see if we can, you know, get back together.

RICHIE: I wouldn't have thought that was how you two were inclined.

FONZIE: Her vocal cords have gotten better, you know, no more nodules and I was thinking she might be interested in, you know, reforming the band.

RICHIE: Somehow I don't think it's going to work. Chachi's definitely out of the business.

LORI BETH: Go get 'em, tiger.

FONZIE exits.

RICHIE: I see you have your priorities straightened out.

LORI BETH: Hey, I'm relaxed, I'm happy and the only thing I have to worry about is what to do about my friend with suicidal tendencies. As far as I can see, the best thing for her would be to get laid.

RICHIE: So why don't you tell her when you see her?

LORI BETH: Rich, you need to flush all that negative energy out. Find you iner self and just do it a few dozen times.

RICHIE: I'm just not as comfortable as you doing that, Lori Beth. You've been the only one I've actually done it with. (beat) Besides last night.

LORI BETH: But think of the possibilities! It's poetic justice!

RICHIE: Two problems with my ex, Kim: one, I don't have the slightest interest in her, and two, she's probably not interested in me.

LORI BETH: You always have to see the down side.

RICHIE: Do you really think I should just give in and do something casual and meaningless?

LORI BETH: (moving closer) Would you?

RICHIE sighs, shakes his head and walks off.

LORI BETH: (following) Rich!

CUT TO: INT. HEATHER'S DORM ROOM.

The animation turns up on a large screen which then turns to a commercial. On the couch watching it are EVAN and HEATHER snuggling up together.

EVAN: I can't believe I'm watching this.

HEATHER: Oh, yes, you're so self-disciplined that you've never indulged in a guilty pleasure before.

EVAN: I can think of some other guilty pleasures to indulge in.

HEATHER: That's easy enough.

EVAN: Do you have anything particular in mind?

HEATHER whispers something into EVAN's ear causing his eyes to open wider. HEATHER starts to walk away.

EVAN: Where are you going, Heather?

HEATHER: Well, I have to go buy some ice cream, silly. (beat) Don't worry. I'll be back in a few minutes. (kisses EVAN and exits)

EXT. THE QUAD.

HEATHER walks by the partying students as LORI BETH continues the yenta act.

LORI BETH: Maybe Lurman's adopted.

RICHIE: Well, there are rumors in the family that I have a half-sibling...

POTSIE: Joanie?

RALPH: I'd rather date a serial killer. (to RICHIE) You're being such a party-pooper, Rich. Join us! Join us!

INT. HEATHER'S DORM ROOM.

EVAN is watching MADISON fight the lesbian vampires with a broken blood bottle. Enter SMILEY. SMILEY walks over to the bed and puts his/her hands on the back of EVAN'S neck.

EVAN: Back so soon? That really feels good, you know.

SMILEY massages EVAN's neck and upper back a bit which EVAN indicates he enjoys by means of groans of pleasure. Certain that EVAN has been lulled into complacency, SMILEY grabs him by the throat and begins strangling him. The pressure of SMILEY's hands is enough to keep EVAN from screaming.

CUT TO: HEATHER'S POINT OF VIEW.

We catch a glimpse of SMILEY's mask and his/her violent strangling motions through a third-floor window of Haddon Hall--the window of her own room.

EXT. THE QUAD.

HEATHER: (panicking and dropping a pint of cherry vanilla ice cream) Evan! (runs off)

The gang look puzzled.

RICHIE: What was that all about?

RALPH: Probably caught a whiff of Evan's pheromones.

POTSIE: You've got a dirty mind, Ralph.

RALPH: Thanks, Pots. (beat) So there'll be no risking our friendship by having a serious relationship?

LORI BETH: See you guys or I'll be really cranky in the morning.

INT. HADDON HALL, STAIRCASE.

HEATHER, worried about what's going on, rushes up the stairs. We follow her through the hallway to room 265. She opens the door, and rushes inside. There she sees SMILEY dropping the corpse of EVAN onto the floor. HEATHER screams. SMILEY walks calmly towards her. HEATHER bolts and heads out of the suite, tripping at the threshold exposing her cleavage and revealing to us that she is wearing high heels. SMILEY continues his/her approach. HEATHER picks herself up and runs down the hall.

SMILEY: (tripping at the threshold) Damn it! Is it too hard for them to fix these loose floor boards? (continues his/her pursuit of HEATHER)

HEATHER looks back at the approaching SMILEY and runs up the stairs. SMILEY follows. HEATHER, careless, tumbles over a bannister to the third floor, picks herself up, runs down the hall, looks back at the approaching SMILEY at the wrong moment, and tumbles down the stairs. SMILEY, now walking slowly down the stairs, unsheathes a long, sharp knife. HEATHER, glancing back, screams, picks herself up, runs down the hall and crashes through a window. We follow HEATHER through the window as she falls, screaming, onto the food table below where her fall causes the table to tip, catapulting a bowl of a thick punch made with green sherbert. The bowl lands on top of MEL coating him from head to foot.

FRED: Whoa, Mel!

MEL: They can't do this to me!

ARTIE: Who do you think you are? Superman?

MEL: I'm the QB, Man!

THE QUAD--GROUND LEVEL.

The Harpies stop playing, the students stop dancing, and lots of people, including RALPH, RICHIE, POTSIE and LORI BETH, run up to HEATHER.

HEATHER: (curled up into a fetal position) No! No! No!

RICHIE: Heather, are you alright?

HEATHER: (sitting up; hysterically) Someone in a rubber mask just killed Evan!

LORI BETH: What?

POTSIE: Calm down, Heather. Tell us exactly what you saw.

HEATHER: Someone in a rubber smiley-face mask put his hands around Evan's neck and choked him to death in my dorm room!

RALPH: A smiley-face mask?

HEATHER: Yes! Then he chased me out here with a knife!

JENNIFER: There have to be a dozen people here dressed as serial killers with knives. Maybe it was a practical joke.

HEATHER: I know what I saw!

BROOKE: Where would anyone get a smiley-face mask?

HEATHER: How the Hell would I know? Evan's just been killed and I saw it!

RICHIE: Calm down, Heather. Let's all go check this out. I'm hoping it's a joke but there's only one way to find out.

Exit POTSIE, RICHIE, RALPH, LORI BETH, JENNIFER, BROOKE and HEATHER (the first two with arms around HEATHER to provide reassuring contact). Various people are murmuring.

INT. HEATHER'S APARTMENT.

There is no sign of EVAN or SMILEY not even a spot of blood. Enter POTSIE, RICHIE, RALPH, LORI BETH, JENNIFER, BROOKE and HEATHER.

RALPH: Wow. What a horrible mess Smiley left us.

POTSIE: Shut up, Ralph.

BROOKE checks in the closet and the bathroom but notices nothing.

BROOKE: I don't see any dead body or killer.

HEATHER: But they were here!

RICHIE: It's all probably just a Halloween joke. We all know Evan is a jock and so he does tend to go overboard in whatever he does.

HEATHER: (reluctantly) Yeah.

LORI BETH: This is all probably just a prank on his part, maybe something he saw in a stupid, cliched, uncreative horror movie like Psycho. He ought to be back in the morning.

HEATHER: Well...

BROOKE: Listen: if you're still feeling scared, you can stay over in my apartment tonight so you don't have to be alone. Would you like that?

HEATHER nods.

EXT. THE QUAD--LATER.

SMILEY walks out of Haddon Hall and soon encounters ANGIE.

ANGIE: Wow! What a great costume!

SMILEY: Thank you.

SMILEY walks away.

EXT. HOUSE--NIGHT.

In the middle of the boonies, centered in a large, well-trimmed lawn, is a large Victorian house, illuminated only with moonlight. Above the crickets can be heard the voice of FARRELL from an upstairs bedroom.

FARRELL: Come on! Give it to me!

GRAHAM: You got it, baby! (beat; sigh)

CUT TO: INT. HOUSE, BEDROOM.

From the moonlight streaming into the room through a large window we can see two young people in bed: FARRELL and GRAHAM. They lay side by side, obviously naked under the sheet on them which covers FARRELL from the armpits down but dips down almost to GRAHAM's waist.

FARRELL: That was incredible.

GRAHAM: It's always best after the fifth time in a single night.

FARRELL: You weren't kidding about that.

GRAHAM: Think of all the time we're going to have to enjoy nights like this. We'll have a flock of kids, we'll travel the world, see all kinds of wonderful sights by day--

FARRELL: Feel all kinds of wonderful feelings by night.

GRAHAM: It's all laid out before us. The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades. (sighs) God, I'm thirsty. I'm going to get something from the kitchen. You want anything?

FARRELL: Oh, no, I'm fine. Go ahead. After the last three hours of love-making, I'm getting sticky. Get a drink while I get a quick shower. After all, the night is still young.

GRAHAM: I like the way you think, Farrell. I'll be right back. Don't get dressed.

As GRAHAM leaves, FARRELL glances at her hand now bearing a glittery engagement ring.

FARRELL: (quietly, to herself) Mrs. Farrell D. Griffin-Blake. (smiles; beat; exits to the side)

INT. KITCHEN.

GRAHAM, wearing a bathrobe, enters the darkened kitchen. He takes a beer from the refrigerator, closes it and begins drinking the beer. It is very quiet save the dramatic music when suddenly an electronically disguised voice speaks.

VOICE: Graham Eustace Blake.

GRAHAM: (starting) Who's there!

GRAHAM can now see a vague figure standing in the shadows.

FIGURE: Only you are truly here, Graham.

GRAHAM: What the Hell are you doing in my kitchen?

FIGURE: I'm a figment, Graham. I'm a product of your mind. Otherwise how would I know deep, dark secrets, such as you have a stash of dirty magazines under your bed or that it's only four inches long?

GRAHAM: (sounding very unnerved) I don't know who you are or what you want but this isn't funny and if you don't leave immediately, I'll--

FIGURE: Call the police? I knew you would say that. But then again, you were always annoyingly predictable.

GRAHAM: Now listen here--

FIGURE: No, you see here.

The figure advances into the moonlight streaming in from a window to reveal SMILEY. SMILEY holds out a very shiny hunting knife and toyingly moves the tip down the exposed part of GRAHAM's chest.

SMILEY: I am part of you, I am inside you and that is because I am one of your nightmares. I know your secrets, your fears, your hopes, your wishes and dreams. And if you don't play along with this little game of mine, you'll die.

GRAHAM: And if I do play along?

SMILEY: (beat) You still die.

SMILEY stabs GRAHAM in the chest and then repeatedly stabs him as he screams and collapses to the floor.

SMILEY: (sarcastically) Oh no. You've got your blood all over my nice, clean knife.

CUT TO: INT. SHOWER STALL.

As seen from the shoulders up, FARRELL is taking a shower. An indistinct noise can be heard in the background which gets FARRELL's attention. She turns off the water and listens for a moment.

FARRELL: Graham?

CUT TO: BEDROOM.

FARRELL emerges from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her. She looks around, heading for the darkened hallway.

FARRELL: Graham? Is that you?

CUT TO: HALLWAY.

In the hall, FARRELL slowly walks among the half-opened doors. Another indistinct noise can be heard. FARRELL freezes up for a moment and then a cat, FLUFFY, emerges from behind a curtain and runs up to her.

FARRELL: (taking FLUFFY in her arms) Oh, Fluffy! Was that you? You had me so scared! For a moment, I thought there might be someone--

The indistinct noise can be heard again. FARRELL freezes. As she slowly spins, we can see SMILEY emerging from the darkness behind her with a raised knife.

FARRELL: (throwing FLUFFY in SMILEY's face) Kill, Fluffy! Kill!

As SMILEY tries to pull the screeching cat off his/her face, FARRELL runs to the end of the hallway and down the steps. As she runs through the kitchen, she slips and nearly loses her balance. The liquid on the floor is very dark and FARRELL traces it to the body of GRAHAM which is hanging on a hook on the wall. FARRELL screams just as SMILEY runs into the kitchen, slips on the blood and falls on his/her butt. FARRELL takes the opportunity to run down to the darkened basement where she hides among piles of stuff. She hears the sounds of the stairs creaking as SMILEY deliberately and slowly descends. At the base of the steps he/she pauses.

SMILEY: (speaking as he/she walks around) Farrell Griffin, age twenty. Recently engaged to Graham White, who will not be able to fulfill that commitment. Am I close, Farrell?

FARRELL looks mortified as, crouched down, she hides while SMILEY walks all around her. Tears begin to stream down her face.

SMILEY: And speaking of amusement, how many football players were you intimate with? (beat) Welcome to your nightmare, Farrell. Rest assured that tonight will be the last night of the rest of your life.

FARRELL: No!

Striking out headlong, FARRELL grabs SMILEY by the feet, making him/her fall headlong.

SMILEY: Fudge!

Running, FARRELL heads for the stairs, with SMILEY close behind. As FARRELL ascends, SMILEY runs under the stairs, jumps, and grabs FARRELL by the foot. FARRELL falls over, suspended above the ground by SMILEY holding onto her.

SMILEY: How's it hanging, Farrell?

Releasing his/her grip, both fall. SMILEY lands on his/her butt again but FARRELL, wide-eyed, falls straight on her head.

SMILEY; (looking over the body, the towel wrapped around it still in its place) Nice of you to drop in.

EXT. MIDDLETON COLLEGE--NIGHT.

Police sirens ring out in the background.

INT. RICHIE AND LROI BETH'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM.

It is dark, and barely anything can be seen. A phone rings and glows. LORI BETH, who is in the bed, sits up suddenly and turns on the light. She answers. A sleeping RICHIE can be seen next to her.

LORI BETH: (into phone) Why have you disturbed our slumber?

FONZIE: (through phone, sounding really monotone) Yo, L.B.

LORI BETH: (into phone) This better be good, Fonz. I was just on the verge of getting to sleep before three in the morning.

FOZNIE: (through phone) I think you need to come over here, to my pad. Something's happened to Daphne.

LORI BETH: (into phone) Is she tweaking from inhaling your hair-spray again? Give her an aspirin and put her to bed.

FONZIE: (through phone) That's not what happened, Lori.

LORI BETH: (into phone) Is it worth calling me this late? Is she asking to be tucked in?

FONZIE: (beat; through phone) Something's happened to her.

LORI BETH's expression suddenly changes to one of worry.

CUT TO: INT. FONZIE'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM.

Hastily dressed, a despondent RICHIE moves down the hall, increasingly crowded with law-enforcement officers. He comes to the bedroom, the epicenter of the activity. He tries entering but is stopped by an officer.

OFFICER: Where are you going, Mr Cunningham?

RICHIE: I need to get in there.

OFFICER: I'm sorry but this is a crime scene. You'll have to--

RICHIE: I said I need to get in there!

RICHIE shoves the officer out of the way and enters the dorm room, only to stop after a few steps. DAPHNE's body is lying on the bed, covered with bruises, a thick wire from a coat hanger twisted tightly around his neck. A cop and BRIAN DANIELSON, who are also in the room, look up.

DANIELSON: Excuse me...

RICHIE is stunned for a moment, then suddenly turns and runs out, knocking over the same officer she did on the way in. He suddenly runs into FONZIE.

FONZIE: Red, I...

RICHIE: What's going on! Who the Hell killed Daphne? Who killed her?

FONZIE: The police don't know killed her, Red.

RICHIE: (to FONZIE) How could this happen! I just saw you and Daphne a few hours ago! What the Hell is going on!

FONZIE: (trying to put a hand on his shoulder) Red--

RICHIE: (backing away, putting up a fist) Don't touch me! (runs off)

[Race's Girl]

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM.

LORI BETH is talking on a cellular phone.

LORI BETH: Fonz, you don't need to be hostile. He's not back yet.

RICHIE enters and slams the front door.

LORI BETH: He just walked in and he doesn't seem to be taking it well. I'd better talk to him. (beat; irritated) Good-bye, Fonz. (hangs up) Rich, are you Okay?

RICHIE: Bad news, Daphne's been murdered! (starts crying) How am I supposed to feel when someone I've known so long has been killed?

LORI BETH embraces RICHIE.

LORI BETH: It's alright. I'll be here for you.

INT. ROOM.

LORI BETH stands at a table, cutting up a plastic lizard doll which has a smiley-face painted on it, with a large knife. Blood is oozing out of the plastic lizard and getting all over the place.

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM.

It is morning and the sunlight is streaming in through the windows. In the bed sleep RICHIE and LORI BETH. They cuddle together tightly, all the interesting parts under the sheets. For a few moments, RICHIE rests his head on LORI BETH's shoulder and the sheets move up and down as they breathe in their angelic sleep. Suddenly the bedroom door bursts open, admitting FLEMING and DANIELSON with drawn weapons. RICHIE and LORI BETH are woken. LORI BETH, pulling the sheets to her chest, screams. RICHIE jumps out of the bed naked (shot around the interesting parts) and brandishes a nearby baseball bat.

FLEMING: Freeze! Nobody--what the Hell...?

RICHIE: (recovering) Brian?

DANIELSON: (very confused) Rich, you never, uh...

LORI BETH: (setting the bat down, grabbing a loose oversized T-shirt) Great, your idiot cousin's husband from the CIA.

DANIELSON: FBI. (lowering his weapon, flashing a badge) Agent Danielson. Oh, this is Agent Fleming. Who the heck is this?

RICHIE: Lori Beth. Lori Beth Allen-Cunningham, my (beat) wife.

FLEMING: I can tell by that.

LORI BETH: (now with the T-shirt on) Don't they teach you idiots to knock before busting a door off its hinges?

DANIELSON: Sorry about this, Rich. No one answered the door and we thought (beat) you know, the killer struck again.

RICHIE: I've already complained to maintenance about the door chime.

LORI BETH: Aren't you supposed to announce yourselves before entering so the bad guys know the spray the door with bullets?

FLEMING: (looking irritated) Mrs. Cunningham, sorry to bust in on your fun, we need to ask you some questions about Daphne Moreno.

LORI BETH: Yeah, yeah. Let's just let Rich here have some privacy.

LORI BETH exits the room followed closely by FLEMING. DANIELSON straggles.

DANIELSON: I'm really sorry about this, Rich. (exits)

RICHIE buries his face in his hands.

CUT TO: LIVING ROOM.

LORI BETH walks through the living room into the kitchen followed closely by the FBI agents. RICHIE JR wakes up from sleeping on the couch and hisses at FLEMING and DANIELSON.

FLEMING: Where were you last night between eight and nine o'clock, Mrs. Cunningham?

LORI BETH: (taking a glass from the cupboard) In the Quad at the Halloween party.

FLEMING: Anyone see you there?

LORI BETH: (getting orange juice from the refrigerator and pouring half a glass) Probably the entire crowd. Let me guess: you've got some stupid theory that I'm the killer.

DANIELSON: You don't seem that upset over Ms. Moreno's death.

LORI BETH: I got most of that out of my system last night in a major sob-fest. And she wasn't much of a friend, Brian. It was mostly a sexual relationship, very little meaning. Most guys are into that sort of stuff; aren't you?

DANIELSON grimaces; FLEMING looks unphased.

FLEMING: So you weren't quite close with Ms. Moreno at all?

LORI BETH: (showing a hint of a grin) I was planning on doing it sometime but it looks like someone beat me to it. It would have been over soon anyway; we really had nothing to talk about. And, no, I didn't kill him. I was there the entire time the party went on and that was from seven to way after midnight. Daphne showed up briefly but left and that was the last time I saw her alive. You can ask anyone who was there, including Richie. I come home, I try to go to sleep and suddenly I get this call from Mr. Fonzarelli that Richie needs to come over there because something's happened to Daphne.

FLEMING: And then what did you do?

LORI BETH: After I walked in on your stupid partner and saw someone had strangled Daphne and wrote "PRETTY BOY" on the wall? I came straight back here and met up with Rich.

DANIELSON: And then you...?

LORI BETH: Did it. (beat) Love making, Brian. Some sort of experiences that went on for hours. Is that enough information?

DANIELSON blushes.

LORI BETH: Let me ask you something, Brian: why is the FBI involved in this case?

FLEMING: That's on a need-to-know basis, Mrs. Cunningham.

RICHIE emerges from the bedroom in a bathrobe which conveniently hangs open enough in front to show a nice swath of chest.

RICHIE: I think we need to know. Brian, you're in Behavioral Sciences. They wouldn't have called you in unless there's a--

LORI BETH: Serial killer.

RICHIE: You think my wife's a serial killer?

DANIELSON: Rich, do you remember that stunt you pulled in high school with the TwentyFour Seven report?

LORI BETH: That would be hard to forget.

RICHIE: What does that have to do with this?

LORI BETH: This wouldn't have anything to do with Tommy Taylor; would it?

FLEMING: (beat) Why do you say that?

LORI BETH: Two days after the broadcast, he was found hung from the goal-post. He had been gutted, and the word "TOOL" was written on his locker with his own blood. The killer was never caught.

FLEMING: You seem to remember a lot about it.

RICHIE: The campus was swarming with cops. Everyone knew about it. But what makes you think this is the same killer?

LORI BETH: They went to the same college, were in the same class, something written on the wall with blood...

FLEMING: And from the people we've talked to, they have some connections in common. Both were popular, both had dated some of the same women--

LORI BETH: You think I slept with Tommy Taylor while I was still dating Richie?

DANIELSON: He was referring to Brittany Henderson, the head cheerleader--

RICHIE: Brittany dated anything that moved, especially if it was stupid.

FLEMING: Actually, we heard the story about you and Sherman, Mrs. Cunningham.

LORI BETH: Angela McDaniels made that one up. She was a rotten troublemaker. That's still not much of a connection, is it? Maybe if... (beat; looks at RICHIE) Damn!

RICHIE: Evan and Heather...

RICHIE runs to the phone and dials.

FLEMING: Who?

LORI BETH: People we know. Heather said she saw Evan strangled last night but when we went to look, there was nothing there. We thought it was a bad joke.

RICHIE: (slamming the phone down) No one's answering.

LORI BETH: Damn it! (grabs her jeans from on the couch as RICHIE reenters the bedroom)

DANIELSON: Is there something else you want to tell us?

LORI BETH: (putting her jeans on quickly) The one she said strangled Evan was wearing a smiley-face mask.

DANIELSON and FLEMING look at each other.

DANIELSON: Someone at UWM claimed to see someone in a smiley-face mask the night of Taylor's murder.

LORI BETH: (slipping on her boots) And for weeks people were saying not to go out at night or Smiley would get you. Rich!

RICHIE: (emerging hastily dressed from the bedroom) I'm coming; I'm coming.

FLEMING: Where do you two think you are going?

LORI BETH: (slipping her jacket on) To make sure Evan and Heather are Okay.

CUT TO: EXT. MIDDLETON UNIVERSITY CAMPUS.

RICHIE is driving his car while LORI BETH rides shotgun. As they approach HEATHER's dorm, they suddenly run into a large number of police cars and an ambulance parked nearby. RICHIE parks and the two approach on foot. Among the number of officers bustling in and out of the front entrance, ANDREA steps out. She looks pale.

RICHIE: Andrea?

ANDREA slowly turns to them, her eyes glazed over. When she speaks, it's only as if through great effort.

ANDREA: There was blood, dripping down into my room below. It was running down the walls in streaks. I came to check on her. The door was open when I knocked, so I came in and (beat) there they were.

DANIELSON and FLEMING approach.

LORI BETH: Andrea, the wall, was there anything on the wall?

ANDREA tries to speak but ends up breaking into tears. As she gets comforted by RICHIE and LORI BETH, FLEMING and DANIELSON push through into the building, flashing their badges as needed to get past police. Inside HEATHER's room, lying on the bed, are two bodies, those of EVAN and HEATHER. On the walls in blood are scrawled two words: "SELL-OUT" and "PRANKSTER".

DANIELSON: Smiley.

FLEMING: Damn straight.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM.

MEL is being interrogated by FLEMING and DANIELSON.

FLEMING: What were you doing in Arthur Fonzarelli's apartment?

MEL: Um, seeing what was going on? Cops are cool.

FLEMING: Or maybe you were trying to cover up evidence!

MEL: Huh?

DANIELSON: (looking over a file) I don't think he's smart enough to understand words with that many syllables.

FLEMING: Perhaps. But he might be smart enough to kill a woman!

MEL: I didn't kill anyone!

FLEMING: Then why were you in the bathroom?

MEL: Well, I was taking a crap. (beat) Can I go now?

FLEMING: Didn't it ever occur to you that even touching another guy's toilet seat might have been interfering with a police investigation?

MEL: A what?

DANIELSON: According to his file, Mr. Mullet here has a single-digit IQ and nothing going for him except for the fact that he can play football.

FLEMING: I don't care! I want a full body-cavity search of this man pronto!

DANIELSON: For what reason?

FLEMING: He just ticked me off.

INT. POLICE LOUNGE--DAY.

RICHIE, LORI BETH, RALPH, POTSIE, ANGELA, GRANT, JOANIE and a few other college students sit around waiting to be interviewed. Some have water in glasses. RICHIE suddenly bursts out laughing surprising RALPH and POTSIE.

POTSIE: What is into you?

RICHIE: It's so funny, I can't help it. They don't have a clue.

ANGELA: We could all be sliced up and you think it's funny?

RALPH: Think of all the lousy things we've done. How many people have we hurt? You think the past is gone? No, it's still there. Everything we do remains and it will come back and get us at some point. We're being chased, people, chased by the sins of the past. We're being chased...

RALPH sighs heavily and grabs POTSIE's arms. The others look dismayed.

JOANIE and GRANT: Oh boy.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM.

LOOMIS, FLEMING, and DANIELSON are interrogating ANGELA.

FLEMING: What is your relationship to Richard Cunningham?

ANGELA: (speaking slowly) No-thing real-ly.

LOOMIS: But you have known him since Grade School.

ANGELA: Kind of.

LOOMIS: Is there anything you can tell us about him?

ANGELA: Heard he was a Me-thod-ist Sa-tan-ist.

DANIELSON: Okay, cut to stupid act, Ms. McDaniels. We know you have an above-average IQ and maintain a B average.

ANGELA: (normally) Sorry, it's something I kind of do when I'm upset.

DANIELSON: You know how annoying that is?

ANGELA: Well, no one expects anything of you if they think they're stupid. I've been doing it since I was a kid. It worked great on the parents, making them leave me alone. I think they were surprised how well I was doing--

FLEMING: Will you shut up?

ANGELA: Sorry.

FLEMING: You're even more annoying when you're not playing stupid. Now, what do you really know about Lori Beth Cunningham?

ANGELA: Nothing, really. Well, I did know her at Arnold's, a little.

LOOMIS: How much time did you spend with her?

ANGELA: Barely any at all.

DANIELSON: Ms. McDaniels--

ANGELA: All right, all right, I can't keep it in anymore! My boyfriend and I, Bob, that was his name, he was called Bob, Bob somebody-or-other, we had broken up. I mean, he was nice but he was too wierd for his own good and we like broke up at this dance and I was all crying and no one would talk to me because the really popular people hated me for betraying Joanie and Farrell and the unpopular people hated me because they thought I was part of the Fashion Club, so not many people really liked me so I was crying there and crying and crying and then Lori Beth came up to me and we talked and talked and she was making me feel better so then this song came on that I really liked and we went dancing and we went da da da da all across the floor and it was a lot of fun and afterwards, we got some punch but we didn't know Chachi spiked the punchbowl so we got really really drunk and we ended up the in the back seat of her car but I swear it only happened seven or eight--more--times--

FLEMING: I didn't need to know that.

DANIELSON: Is there anything else you can tell us about the Cunninghams?

ANGELA: Uh-uh. No-thing.

EXT. MIDDLETON COLLEGE CAMPUS--DAY.

Several vans have parked all over the campus, all of them representing news organizations. Many have camera operators and reporters out before them recording stories. Before one stands VAL with a microphone looking very impatient. THERESA, her camera operator, finally exits the van.

VAL: What were you doing in there, Theresa?

THERESA: Sorry but the cartridge got jammed again. Makes it very difficult to operate.

VAL: The damn thing snaps in! How hard can it be?

THERESA: I didn't design this thing...

VAL: Look, just shut up and start recording. We have a job to do. Can you do that?

THERESA: Yes.

VAL: Then do it or you're going to end up back on junior five where you came from.

THERESA gets into position and starts recording.

THERESA: And, action, your majesty.

VAL: This is Val reporting for TwentyFour Seven. I'm standing here on the campus of Middleton College, the site of a recent spate of murders that has taken--cut!

THERESA: What now?

VAL: Follow me and when I talk, start rolling.

THERESA: Yeah, yeah, whatever.

VAL approaches where RICHIE is sitting, looking depressed and reading a book.

VAL: Okay, Theresa. We are here with Richard Cunningham, one of the students from UWM, the same school where three years ago Thomas Taylor was brutally murdered. And now, not far away, the killings have started again. How does this make you feel, Richard?

RICHIE: What the Hell is this?

VAL: What's it like to be surrounded by so many deaths?

RICHIE: Stop recording, Val.

THERESA: (lowering camera) I knew this was a bad idea.

VAL: (to THERESA) You're not paid to think!

RICHIE: Yeah, let Val come up with all the stupid ideas on her own.

VAL: Richard, can we speak?

RICHIE: I suppose I can't stop you.

VAL: That first segment we did with you about the terror of the Jefferosn High Fashion Club was one of the highest-rated stories we had ever done until then. Imagine what bringing you into this story could do for the ratings.

RICHIE: And imagine how insulted I felt when after Tommy Taylor died, you showed up and accused me of being part of a Satanic cult.

VAL: That was just sensationalism.

RICHIE: Or libel. You can choke on your microphone before I'll help you.

VAL: Richard, please consider what I can offer you...

RICHIE: Consider this! (stamps on VAL's foot and storms off)

THERESA: You were asking for it, Val.

VAL: Theresa, shut up.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM.

The door of the room opens, admitting LORI BETH in a tight, slinky outfit that shows off her legs and cleavage, followed by FLEMING, DANIELSON and the district attorney JOHN LOOMIS.

FLEMING: You sure you don't want an attorney, Mrs. Cunningham?

LORI BETH: (turning) I have nothing to hide, Agent Fleming.

LOOMIS: Have a seat, Mrs. Cunningham.

LORI BETH sits in one chair, the others in chairs facing her.

FLEMING: Mrs, Cunningham, would you mind telling us about the series of paintings Mr. Malph did for the Thomas Q. Doyle Gallery while you two were in college?

LORI BETH: Interesting question. You see, Ralph had always wanted to put his skills at oil painting to use in a series of pictures with the kind of dramatic impact you see in someone like Goya or Chagall. I knew he was first inspired to do this when we visited--

LOOMIS: This is all very interesting but we would like to know where Mr. Malph got the content of those paintings.

LORI BETH: It was at this concert--

FLEMING: A concert?

LORI BETH: Rock 'n' roll. I think Leather & the Suedes were the headliner with The Band opening. Anyway, they had this mosh pit, which, for you, agent Fleming, is when a group of people stand in a circle and people on the inside are bounced around violently by them.

LOOMIS: That's just stupid.

LORI BETH: So's the Lawrence Welk trash you probably listen to. Anyway, I was really dizzy afterwards and had to go to the medical tent for some oxygen. That and I think the marijuana fumes were a bit much. And so in the tent I pass out and I had this dream. I saw a stupid jock hung from his neck on a goal post, his belly cut open and his intestines hanging out. It was awful but vivid and compelling. The next day, Mr. Malph painted it.

LOOMIS: And not long afterwards Thomas Taylor, the quarterback at UWM, was found killed in a similar manner.

LORI BETH: The guy was a self-centered jerk. Half the college students would have loved to do that to him.

LOOMIS: But you foresaw it happen.

FLEMING: Didn't you connect the two events? If you really had a premonition, I don't see why you didn't do something about it to prevent the next killing.

LORI BETH: By the time Tommy Taylor got killed, I had had other dreams of people who had been killed, many of them people I knew fairly well and recognized. Mr. Malph sketched them, he painted them and even though they were gory they drew critical acclaim. I was disturbed when Tommy Taylor was found in a way a lot like Mr. Malph's painting but since there were no more killings at that time, I figured it was a coincidence.

FLEMING: But some of the other paintings could be snapshots of the more recent killings. Evan, Heather, Gordon, Daphne. They were all in the series.

LORI BETH: Mr. Malph only painted what I dreamed. I didn't make the dreams up.

LOOMIS: Yet you showed these paintings in public? They were certain to make you a suspect.

LORI BETH: It would have been really stupid of Mr. Malph to paint pictures of murders I intended to do. If I wanted to kill people, I wouldn't advertise my plans in a public exhibition.

LOOMIS: Maybe that's what you planned. Ralph paints pictures of what you plan to do because it gets you off the hook. The paintings become your alibi.

DANIELSON: I think I should point out that there are documented cases of clairvoyance that go back centuries. In some cases, such as that of Nostradamus, reliable predictions were made of events that occurred centuries later. Furthermore, forms of trauma such as Mrs. Cunningham here has described have been known to be precursors to the development of prescient abilities.

FLEMING has a "not this stupidity again" look on his face.

LORI BETH: Thank you, Brian, for pointing out a possibility which doesn't involve me being the killer. Of course, because the paintings were on public display, someone could have seen them and acted them out. It's not as whiz-bang as the extrasensory perception thing, but it is well within the realm of phenomena accepted to happen by the majority of scientists with intact brains.

FLEMING: Did you kill Thomas Taylor?

LORI BETH: No. I once made a voodoo doll of him and stuck pins in it, but only Brian here would classify it as attempted murder. And, no, I did not kill any of the others who have died recently, any people or, contrary to rumor, any of the neighborhood pets though I did once run over a dog's tail on a bicycle by accident. (beat) Fleming, why are you staring at me like that?

FLEMING: (crossing his legs) I'm not staring at you.

LORI BETH: Yes, you are, you horny jerk.

FLEMING: Am not.

DANIELSON: Are, too. You look more at her chest and crotch than her face.

FLEMING: Am not.

LORI BETH: Do, too. You're just waiting for me to uncross my legs and flash my holy of holies at you. You're dying to know what it looks like.

FLEMING: Am not.

DANIELSON: Are, too. I've seen your magazine collection.

FLEMING: Mrs. Cunningham, I don't know anything like that which is not police business.

LORI BETH: You know I'm not wearing any underwear.

DANIELSON: (turning to LOOMIS) I told you! Pay up!

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT.

RICHIE is reading when there is a knock at the door. RICHIE answers it and find it is ANDREA, who looks freaked out.

RICHIE: My God, what's wrong, Andrea?

ANDREA: I just realized I'm going to die!

RICHIE: What are you talking about?

ANDREA: There's a slasher killer out there and I'm the sluttiest, creepiest one of the gang. Even Ralph and Potsie don't do it with Melissa or Jennifer. It's guaranteed I'm going to get killed.

RICHIE: Andrea, are you sniffing anything?

ANDREA: Damn it, Rich! Don't you watch horror movies?

RICHIE: No.

ANDREA: Well, I do and based on everything I've seen, I'm the first one of us to die. I need a drink. (heads for refrigerator)

RICHIE: You're overreacting.

ANDREA: (taking a bottle from the refrigerator) Excuse me but I'm not the virtuous one here, the one who doesn't dress geek or wear much makeup. You've been with Lori Beth for years.

RICHIE: What does that have to do with anything?

ANDREA: (taking a big swig from the bottle) What do you mean? Sex is a risk factor in horror movies! I've been with so many guys that I've nearly filled a spiral notebook with their names. Damn it, I was with Grant last night!

RICHIE: I did not need to know that.

ANDREA: We made love three times. A slasher killer was on the loose and I'm getting laid! Damn, he wasn't even that good and now I'm going to die for having lousy sex!

RICHIE: This is not a movie, Andrea. You are not going to die over making love.

ANDREA: This guy was wearing a rubber mask, Rich. He's modeling what he's doing after the movies. That means all the movie rules apply. I'm gonna die!

RICHIE: No, you are not.

ANDREA: Yes I--Oh my God! You've made love recently! You're gonna die too!

RICHIE: How would you even know--

ANDREA: You have that look, that's what.Ew! You did it with Lori Beth!

RICHIE: What business of yours is who I sleep with?

ANDREA: It's--It's not something I do and it freaks me out. I hate it when Lori Beth talks about how Fonzie kissed her. But now, I really don't know if you're going to survive this.

RICHIE: No one is after me, Andrea.

ANDREA: You're wrong about that. It is almost three years to the day since that segment on the Jefferson High Fashion Club was broadcast on TwentyFour Seven. Killers love to do their business near or on important dates especially anniversaries. The Jefferson High Fashion Club could be after you, Rich.

RICHIE: Are you saying Farrell killed Graham, went to campus to slash up a few people and then came back and dropped herself on her head?

ANDREA: Possibly, but she's not the only one with a reason. What about Francine? Isn't it convenient that she's the only one of the pre-fab four not to go to Middleton?

RICHIE: She's at Swedesville Tech, Andrea.

ANDREA: No, she's not. I called them up and Francine's not there. Never even registered. And don't buy that innocent act from her, Rich. She lost most of her clique when the Jefferson High Fashion Club fell apart. So many people shunned her that Chachi was basically her only friend.

RICHIE: And so she goes around killing a bunch of irrelevant people first, alerting me to the fact that there's a knife-wielding maniac on the loose and allowing me to take action, instead of simply killing me and getting done with it. That's really stupid, Andrea.

ANDREA: It's like a horror movie, Rich! The others are inconvenient people who get in the way or they're the appetizers to demoralize you before the main course begins. Or maybe there's a more personal score to settle. How about Joanie?

RICHIE: Joanie's got issues but she'd never do anything like that.

ANDREA: You're dark and gloomy. Maybe it runs in the family and she just expresses it differently. What about Prof. Clarkson? After the broadcast, he quit and was never heard from again. Now he's returned to wipe out all those kids who made his teaching career miserable.

RICHIE: Move on, Andrea. You're really stretching it.

ANDREA: Am I? How about Todd? He kills that Van Driessen idiot you told me about and escapes the mental hospital he was locked up in. Isn't it funny that he's picked this time to do that? I'm sure Van Driessen's been annoying him for some time.

RICHIE: Why would Todd kill any of the victims so far? He doesn't know most of them.

ANDREA: Because they're connected to you, Rich. It's the demoralizing thing. And because he has a grudge against you due to his attack on you, he's going to come after you sooner or later, that is, if he's the killer. Whether or not you die is an open matter, though.

RICHIE: What do you mean? I had sex with Lori Beth.

ANDREA: Yes, with Lori Beth. There aren't many horror movies with lesbians in them. Usually if they appear at all, they're mentioned in the title in connection with vampires. Gay men usually die no matter what they do but there's nothing established about lesbians. You being the virtuous one could save you or having sex could kill you.

RICHIE: Guess horror movies aren't that cliched at all.

ANDREA: They are, Rich. The story-lines just haven't dealt with this area very much, so the cliches haven't developed yet. Be warned: you may have really doomed yourself by sleeping with Lori Beth. The one thing I do know is I cannot be alone during all this. I'm staying with you and Lori Beth and we need some more people here.

RICHIE: Andrea, you're not staying here.

ANDREA: Yes, I am. When people are alone, they die. When they're in pairs, one of them usually dies. I need to be with at least two other people at all times so I can't get killed.

RICHIE: This is insane.

ANDREA: If you knew you were going to die, you'd be going insane, too. My best chance is to stay around a lot of people and hope the killer decides your sexual history is worse than mine. If I'm lucky, he'll kill you and Lori Beth which means my chances of surviving will improve significantly.

RICHIE: Your concern for my well-being is touching.

ANDREA: You would do the same and you know it! You need to take this stuff seriously, Rich. All the people who've died are connected to you. All the major suspects are connected to you. Sooner or later, Smiley will be knocking at your door.

RICHIE: Doesn't the one the killer is really after also the one who usually survives?

ANDREA: Damn it! You think I don't know that? That's why you're my shield. If you're fated to survive, then you'd God-damn better protect me!

RICHIE: Uh, should you be drinking that? Drinking is one of those things that gets you killed, right?

ANDREA: It's soda. I should be safe.

RICHIE: But doesn't it have caffeine?

ANDREA does a spit take.

ANDREA: Damn! I forgot about caffeine! It's a drug! I'm going to die from Mr. Pibb!

RICHIE: No, you're not. Be reasonable, Andrea. Next you're going to tell me that eating chocolate is a death-wish.

ANDREA slaps herself on the forehead.

ANDREA: I had a candy bar this morning. Chocolate is psychotropic! What have I done. (puts down vodka) Come on; I need you.

RICHIE: What now?

ANDREA: You need to come with me. I have to use the bathroom.

RICHIE rolls his eyes.

EXT. CAMPUS.

RICHIE walks out of a building, talking to BRAD while doing so. Both are carrying books.

BRAD: So is Lori gonna be OK?

RICHIE: I guess, Brad, assuming she isn't driven over the edge by Andrea. Like I said, their relationship was mostly physical. What's even creepier is the other murders that happened. I mean: who would want to kill Heather?

BRAD: I wish I knew. Maybe someone who hates goofy people.

RICHIE: Daphne wasn't goofy. She just stood there, looked good and said monosyllables occasionally. This whole thing is just creepy.

BRAD: Tell me about it. I've been walking around all day feeling like I'm being watched.

RICHIE: I know the feeling. Though the more freaked out you are, the more likely you are to just be paranoid and no one actually being there. The higher, the fewer.

BRAD: In any case, I got to go.

RICHIE: Another class?

BRAD: Doctor Prescott is enlisting my help on a project. He wants to work up a profile of the killer. Potsie and Tom are in on it, too.

RICHIE: You wacky psychology majors. Say hi to them for me.

BRAD: Sure thing. See you. (makes funny hand sign) I salute you with the sign of our secret order of evil serial killers.

RICHIE: Cute, Brad. Real cute.

BRAD departs. RICHIE begins to continue on his way but soon bumps into someone and has his books knocked out of his hands. Kneeling down to retrieve his books, she finds the responsible party with her. It is RALPH, who assists.

RALPH: I am so sorry about this.

RICHIE: (taking his books) I got it; I'm fine.

They stand up again.

RICHIE: What are you doing on this part of campus, Ralph? You don't come near the science building.

RALPH: I wanted to see how you are.

RICHIE: I'm glad you got that through your head.

RALPH: Do you want to get a soda?

CUT TO: INT. ARNOLD'S DRIVE-IN.

RICHIE and RALPH are sitting at their usual booth. No one else is present.

RALPH: I would hate to get woken up like that.

RICHIE: I can't believe Lori Beth was that shameless.

RALPH: I can. Social conventions aren't relevant to her. That's what makes me a good artist. You think they're going to catch this guy?

RICHIE: I don't know. So many people in just one night...

RALPH: One person in one night would be too much. This is like something out of a horror movie, the kind with someone in a ski mask cutting up virgins.

A phone rings. RICHIE and RALPH look to the counter where it is located but there is no one there. Confused, RICHIE gets up and answers.

RICHIE: (into phone) Arnold's Drive-In.

VOICE: (through phone) Hello.

RICHIE: (into phone) Is there something I can do for you?

VOICE: (through phone) What are your hours for today?

RICHIE: (into phone) Uh, look, I'm not really an employee there. The attendant here has wandered off, maybe he's trapped under a bag of coffee beans or something so I really can't help you with that.

VOICE: (through phone) Then maybe you could tell me something else.

RICHIE: (into phone) Such as?

VOICE: (through phone) What kind of underwear do you have on?

RICHIE: (into phone) I don't know where you are, but this is really sick. Good-bye--

VOICE: (through phone) You hang up and I'll kill you right there, Richie Cunningham! You and your friends!

RALPH: What's going on with that guy?

RICHIE: Tough talk for someone who doesn't show his face.

VOICE: (through phone) As you wish.

SMILEY suddenly bursts though the front door wielding a hunting knife. RICHIE screams. He and RALPH run to the back of the store, SMILEY close behind. RALPH knocks over a shelf full of bags of coffee beans in front of SMILEY, blocking his path. As they run, SMILEY swipes the knife at them. RICHIE and RALPH burst out of the back of the coffee shop into a parking lot, where they run into FLEMING and DANIELSON. RICHIE screams again.

RALPH: (pointing back the way he came) There's a guy with a knife in there!

FLEMING: (shaking his head) And all I wanted was a cup of joe.

DANIELSON: (drawing his weapon) Come on!

FLEMING and DANIELSON enter the building as RICHIE and RALPH cling to each other.

RALPH: Was that the bogeyman? That was the scariest thing I've been through since taking that last math test.

DANIELSON and FLEMING exit the building looking frustrated.

DANIELSON: No trace of a killer in there.

FLEMING: But there is the body of a kid who was paid slave wages slashed up and shoved in the employee bathroom.

DANIELSON: So much for job security.

INT. HOSPITAL, CORRIDOR.

GRANT, looking very anxious, comes down a corridor, looking both ways, trying to find a room. Suddenly a hospital tray comes flying out of an open door and hits the wall on the opposite side.

ANGELA: (out of view) You can't do this to her! Hasn't she suffered enough?

GRANT enters the room. Sitting on the bed is FARRELL in a hospital gown, looking bruised but otherwise Fine. Standing near her are ANGELA and an angry-looking orderly.

ORDERLY: Look, you little half-witted, stuck-up little twerp with the brain-power of an amoeba! I don't know what they do in whatever decadent neighborhood where you have so much money that you use it as toilet paper but here we do not waste food in such a gratuitous manner!

ANGELA: Listen here, you blue-collar floor-mopper, or whatever, my friend here was seriously hurt and would have died had I not stopped by her boyfriend's cabin this morning and found her. The least you can do is get her a meal that isn't made of recycled cardboard!

ORDERLY: Screw you!

ANGELA: Go screw yourself over!

The orderly leaves and GRANT approaches.

FARRELL: (to ANGELA) It was Okay, Angela honey. I like Jell-O.

ANGELA: You're a human being, not an animal. It's bad enough you have to wear these gowns; they almost make you look fat.

GRANT: Hi, Farrell.

FARRELL: Grant!

GRANT: I came as soon as I heard. Someone told me you were attacked and had your neck broken.

FARRELL: I'm Okay. It's not as bad as they thought it was.

GRANT: But you got dropped on your head!

FARRELL: The doctors say I have a very solid cranium, whatever that means.

ANGELA: She's lucky to be alive, Grant. I'm lucky to be alive.

GRANT: What happened to you, Angela?

ANGELA: Nothing yet. It's what's going to happen. Haven't you heard about the Smiley Face Killer yet?

GRANT: Who?

ANGELA: The knife-wielding maniac!

FARRELL: Oh, God! This creepy guy in a costume with a smiley-face mask. He was the one who killed Graham!

ANGELA: And the same night people are saying they saw someone dressed like that in the Quad.

FARRELL: That bastard's going to pay dearly for his crimes...

GRANT: So you think you're being stalked?

ANGELA: Don't you remember back in high school? That night Tommy Taylor was getting some extra practice on the football field and some psycho gutted and killed him? Do you remember the guy you saw? The one you and your buddies chased before he suddenly vanished?

GRANT: No way! That guy in the mask?

FARRELL: Duh! Don't you get it? Someone is after us. Someone is after the popular people!

ANGELA: But who would do such a thing?

FARRELL: Do you really want to know?

ANGELA: Astonish me, djinn! Show me wonders!

GRANT: My name's Grant, not Jim!

JOANIE: (entering the room) Hello!

CUT TO: HOSPITAL CORRIDOR.

The orderly is walking down the corridor holding a tray.

ORDERLY: (singing very badly) I hate those bitches... I want them to die horribly after I bang them hard up their--

The orderly is suddenly yanked by SMILEY into a utility closet screaming as he is dragged, the door is shut and he is stabbed multiple times before there is silence.

SMILEY: (out of view) Mmmm! Canned peaches!

CUT TO: FARRELL'S ROOM.

ANGELA, GRANT and JOANIE are still standing around FARRELL.

GRANT: OK, how about Monique?

ANGELA: (doubtful) Do you really think she would do it?

GRANT: Why not? She dresses in leather, she talks about chopping people up, she carries a dagger and once I saw her blow up a teddy bear. Definitely was a good idea abandoning her in the middle of nowhere when she quit the Jefferson High Fashion Club.

FARRELL: (smugly) Thanks. But if there was anyone at that school who was a closet slasher killer, it was DiMartino. He hated us all, he yelled at us, never said a nice thing in front of us and was calling us four-letter words behind our backs. I could swear, every time he yelled a word at us, one of his eyes was bulging out. I thought it would explode sometimes.

JOANIE: My money is on Principal Andrews. I mean, think of it: she's even more ruthless than DiMartino, she was trying to keep us under surveillance and take away our God-given rights to look good and dress in the latest style and she was probably making illegal use of the funds in the school. Maybe she's just snapped and is out to kill people who look much better than her in capri pants. Hasn't she been locked up somewhere?

ANGELA: Hey, how about that friend of your cousin Richie, the one who, like, likes to paint and stuff?

GRANT: I would have really liked to--uh, I mean, what about him?

FARRELL: Hello! Ralph Malph's really creepy but he's also creative. Maybe this whole thing is like a plot he cooked up for his own amusement but whoever this killer is, he knows a lot about us. Whoever he is, he's not killing the innocent.

GRANT: You can't tell me that Evan and Heather deserved what happened to them!

FARRELL: Like, duh! None of us thinks they deserved death but they'd been going at it like bunnies since their senior year.

JOANIE: And I suppose you and Graham--

FARRELL: That's none of your business, Joanie!

Enter GORDON, running.

GORDON: Guys! It's getting worse!

FARRELL: What? Have you been thinking about going back to Leather?

GORDON: Well, actually--that's not relevant! They just found Brooke!

JOANIE: What? Have she and Potsie been holed up somewhere trying another marathon session?

GORDON: It's worse than that! They found her body in her car--at the bottom of the river!

ANGELA: Ew!

FARRELL: We can't just wait around for someone to knock us off! We have to do something!

ANGELA: We're talking about someone who kills off people who have lots of sex! That would mean out of all the people in this room... (tries to bolt but JOANIE grabs hold of her and slaps her)

JOANIE: Grab hold of yourself, Angela!

FARRELL: Joanie's right. We can't panic now! We have to stand our ground! We're going to have to find the killer first and get rid of him before he kills us.

JOANIE: Are you saying we should go into a house at night and have sex on purpose to lure a maniac?

ANGELA and GORDON sneak out, taking advantage of FARRELL and JOANIE's tendency to argue with each other.

GRANT: I volunteer!

FARRELL and JOANIE look at GRANT.

GRANT: What?

JOANIE: Don't be silly! Not even Mel and Louise would be stupid enough to have sex for that reason. (beat) What happened to Angela?

INT. HOSPITAL, HALLWAY.

RICHIE, RALPH and POTSIE are walking through the hallway followed by a police officer.

RALPH: I can't believe you talked us into something for once! With a police escort, nonetheless!

RICHIE: So sue me for having sympathy for Farrell.

POTSIE: Your name is Sue.

RICHIE: Look on the bright side: we managed to ditch Andrea about three blocks back.

OFFICER: (under his breath) Why do I always get the smart kids?

ROTATE CAMERA 90° TO SHOW A PERPENDICULAR CORRIDOR.

SMILEY goes running through that corridor.

CUT TO: RICHIE, RALPH AND POTSIE.

RICHIE: Did I just see...

POTSIE and RALPH: Yes!

The three of them go running after SMILEY.

OFFICER: Damn! (runs after RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH)

INT. HOSPITAL, ANOTHER HALLWAY.

SMILEY runs down a hall with RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH still behind him/her and the officer behind them. SMILEY flies around a sharp corner.


CUT TO: INT. FARRELL'S HOSPITAL ROOM.

JOANIE and GRANT are still present talking to FARRELL.

FARRELL: That plan is just as stupid, Grant.

GRANT: It is not.

JOANIE: And how would the killer know we're naked and in the shower? He'd have to be in the house waiting to know it's time to strike.

GRANT: If he knows when you're making love--

SMILEY bursts into the room and waves his/her hands above his/her head. FARRELL, GRANT and JOANIE scream, GRANT jumping into bed with FARRELL. SMILEY runs back out into the hall knocking RICHIE, RALPH and POTSIE over. SMILEY continues down the hall.

RALPH: This isn't exactly how I wanted to get you flat on your back, Rich.

The officer continues running after SMILEY.

CUT TO: INT. HOSPITAL, ANOTHER HALLWAY.

ANGELA and GORDON, hand-in-hand, are walking down the hallway, trying to get out unnoticed when SMILEY appears before them. ANGELA screams. GORDON punches SMILEY in the stomach. ANGELA grabs a bedpan from a cart and slams it down hard on SMILEY's head. SMILEY drops to the floor unconscious. The police officer, RICHIE, RALPH and POTSIE arrive running.

RALPH: (bends down and peels off SMILEY's mask, revealing MEL) Hey, look! It's the Dim Reaper!

THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE FARRELL'S ROOM.

JOANIE walks out of FARRELL's room and meets RICHIE.

JOANIE: Rich? What are you doing here?

RICHIE: My conscience, for some reason, demands that I go see how Farrell's doing. I've got a soft spot for anyone who has been dropped.

JOANIE: That's sweet of you. I've always admired your sense of kindness.

RICHIE: Since when?

JOANIE: Look: I know we haven't always been close--

RICHIE: Usually it's a few meters between us, at least.

JOANIE: Rich, I'm trying to be serious here. Despite everything that's happened between us, I've always felt we've had some sort of deep, spiritual connection.

RICHIE: Okay...

JOANIE: (taking RICHIE's hand looking into her eyes) Maybe we should take this bad situation as an opportunity, to use the adversity to make us bond more closely. (moves closer) I'm certainly up for that if you are.

RICHIE: Joanie, what the Hell are you talking about?

JOANIE: Damn it, Rich! You can be so frustrating to be around sometimes!

JOANIE leaves as RALPH and POTSIE approach.

RALPH: What was that about?

RICHIE: You're not going to believe this but I think Joanie just came onto me.

POTSIE: Ew! She's your sister!

RICHIE: Hey, you're the ones who slept with girls I've met quite a few times.

RALPH: Rich, we're not the cat people.

INT. A HOSPITAL ROOM.

MEL is lying in bed. ANGELA, GORDON and FLEMING are standing around.

FLEMING: I was called down here for this?

ANGELA: But he's the jerk that tried to kill Farrell!

Enter DANIELSON and FRED.

FRED: Hey, Mel! (runs over to Mel) Are you alright?

DANIELSON: He's not the jerk who tried to kill Farrell. Frederick Collins was with him at the time of most of the murders.

ANGELA: But--

FLEMING; Damn it! The man's a moron! It's all over his criminal record! He doesn't have the brain-power to kill people!

Enter DR. PHILLIPS.

DR. PHILLIPS: What are all you people doing in here?

ANGELA: (points to MEL) This man tried to kill--

DR. PHILLIPS: I don't care what he allegedly did. That man has a serious concussion. He could suffer brain damage.

DANIELSON: Not that anyone would notice.

FLEMING: (to DANIELSON) For once we agree.

DR. PHILLIPS: Shut up! He needs rest so I want all of you to get out of here unless there's some real emergency which somehow requires you to be here.

FLEMING: Fine by us.

Exit FLEMING and DANIELSON.

ANGELA: But--

DR. PHILLIPS: Now!

ANGELA (very dissatisfied) and GORDON exit.

DR. PHILLIPS: (to FRED) You, too.

FRED: But I'm his best friend! He needs me!

DR. PHILLIPS: Please.

MEL: (weakly) It's Okay, Fred.

FRED: Okay but I'll be nearby if there's anything you need.

Exit FRED and DR. PHILLIPS. After a moment, enter JOANIE.

JOANIE: Hi, Mel.

MEL: Hi, Joanie.

JOANIE: (approaches) There's always been something about you that's excited me.

MEL: Huh?

JOANIE: Don't tell me you haven't ever felt it, too. You're a big, strong man. I'm a beautiful woman. Ever wonder what would it would be like if we let happen what comes naturally?

MEL: Er...

JOANIE: (puts a finger to her lips) No more words. (slips into bed with MEL)

INT. HOSPITAL, HALLWAY.

FRED walks down the hall, accompanied by BRAD and TOM.

FRED: (on the verge of tears) I can't believe this happened to Mel! It was just a harmless joke.

BRAD: I can't believe I'm going to visit him after he pulled a stupid stunt like this.

TOM: I can't believe I'm going with you to see him after he pulled a stupid stunt like this. Why do we hang around him, again?

BRAD: Pity, I think. I'm afraid he'd do something even more moronic if I didn't keep an eye on him and end up six feet under.

FRED: Thanks! You two are great friends!

They arrive at MEL's room. A crash is heard and JOANIE, half-dressed and a big bruise on her face, runs out of the room.

JOANIE: Smiley!

FRED, BRAD and TOM peek inside the room.

CUT TO: MEL'S ROOM.

The room is empty. The window has been broken through. BRAD, FRED and TOM enter. BRAD opens the closet and a bunch of linens fall out. They breathe a sigh of relief. FRED tentatively opens the bathroom door; he screams as MEL falls to the floor. MEL has a knife protruding from his chest and many red marks on his neck. He has a blank look on his face, pretty much as he has in class. TOM runs over to the window and peeks outside.

TOM: Whoever did this to him, he's gone now.

BRAD: (checking MEL's pulse) And he's definitely gone.

FRED: Oh my god! He killed Mel!

TOM: You bastard!

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT.

RICHIE and LORI BETH sit side-by-side on the couch, looking incredibly bored as ANDREA talks nervously. RICHIE JR is alseep on RCIHIE'S lap. ANDREA has a bottle of spring water in hand which she frequently sips from.

ANDREA: ... and then the killer turned on the garage door and she couldn't get through the pet door because her breasts were too large and so she was stuck and got pulled up with the garage door and she got killed when it went all the way up and broke her neck. But the more virtuous friend survived to the end of the movie.

RICHIE: That wouldn't work, Andrea. If she couldn't get both shoulders through the pet door then she should have fallen out when the garage door went up. The only thing she should have broken was her tail-bone when she fell on her butt.

LORI BETH: True but I enjoyed the movie though.

RICHIE: Just another excuse to throw out cliches. In this case, though because it could be construed as a parody, the writer was praised even though all he did was recycle everything that had been done before him. Is that really creative?

ANDREA: Rich, that doesn't matter! This is a truly postmodernist psychopath!

LORI BETH: I don't get that term "postmodern". If "modern" refers to contemporary things, then how could something be "postmodern"?

ANDREA: You're missing the gravity of this situation, Lori Beth. You remember that movie with Dana Andrews?

LORI BETH: Oh, yeah. The Invasion of the Pod People. The one with the killer basing all the murders on urban legends. Really stupid, totally implausible, could have been better. The murders could have been much better, more blood, guts and gore.

RICHIE: She was very glad I got her Re-Animator for her birthday.

ANDREA: The last thing I want is to be found sprawled across the bathroom floor in a pool of blood with my head missing.

RICHIE: (standing) Okay, I've had enough. I'm calling it an early night. Ready for bed, Sweet Knees?

LORI BETH: (standing, smirking) Sure. Good night, Andrea.

ANDREA: You're leaving the room?

RICHIE: Yes. We're married. You can take the couch out here.

ANDREA: You can't do this to me! I'll get killed! Being alone in a room is an invitation to death!

LORI BETH: Andrea, you know we would ordinarily let you in the bedroom with us but you know, we're not into threesomes.

RICHIE and LORI BETH depart the room. ANDREA pauses for a moment and then picks up the phone and dials.

ANDREA: (into phone) Brad? (beat) It's Andrea. This is an emergency. (beat) Who's with you? (beat) Great! Bring them over to Richie and Lori Beth's apartment as soon as you can...

INT. AN APARTMENT.

Enter PIGEON MAN and his roommate, STUPID DUDE, through the front door, carrying groceries.

PIGEON MAN: (singing) ... 'Cause you're a big, black, furry creature from Mars,
A big, black, furry creature from Mars,
A big, black, furry-- (beat) What's that smell?

STUPID DUDE: (sniffs) Chicken.

INT. A KITCHEN.

PIGEON MAN and STUPID DUDE enter the kitchen. There is a pot on the stove. PIGEON MAN lifts off the lid, looks inside and screams.

CUT TO: INT. THE POT.

Boiling inside is a dead pigeon.

INT. THE KITCHEN.

PIGEON MAN: Oh my god! Who killed my pet pigeon Hitchcock?

STUPID DUDE: Uh, man, that's not Hitchcock.

PIGEON MAN: What do you mean that's not Hitchcock? Do you really think I keep a few spares in the closet?

STUPID DUDE: Uh, no. It's just that-- (beat) You remember Jaws, my Burmese python?

PIGEON MAN: Yeah?

STUPID DUDE: I left Jaws out one day, figuring she could use the exercise. When I got home, I found out she'd eaten Hitchcock. I rushed out to the store and bought a new pigeon as fast as I could.

PIGEON MAN: (crying) My pigeon! My pigeon! You killed my pigeon!

STUPID DUDE: I'm sorry, man but that was a month ago. I certainly didn't kill this bird.

PIGEON MAN: Then who did?

Enter SMILEY.

SMILEY: I did.

STUPID DUDE: Fear not, Bro! I'll save you!

STUPID DUDE rushes at SMILEY only to get a knife in the heart. STUPID DUDE drops to the floor. SMILEY pulls the knife out of STUPID DUDE's chest and wipes the blood off of the blade.

SMILEY: And now that I've killed your pigeon and stupid friend, I'm going to kill you and your girlfriend Angela McDaniels.

PIGEON MAN: What are you talking about? You moron, Angela's not my girlfriend.

SMILEY: Then what are you doing in her apartment?

PIGEON MAN: This my apartment! Angela lives next door.

SMILEY: Oops. (beat) Please accept my deepest, most sincere apologies on the death of your pet bird and your roommate.

PIGEON MAN: You killed my pigeon and my roommate and you expect to get off with just an apology? You're a murderer! I can't forgive something like this!

SMILEY: But--

PIGEON MAN: You horrible, horrible man! I can see how you could take the life of an idiot like my roommate but how could you take the life of a sweet innocent pigeon, whose reason-to-be was to bring some pleasure to those around her? Have you no idea what this pigeon meant not only to me but to the people of this neighborhood? She gave people an appreciation of the virtues of avian life-forms. She helped lower everyone's blood pressure on her twice-weekly trips to the hospital and the nursing home. Little kids would take the trouble to behave themselves just to pet her! And all you can do is merely--

SMILEY: What the Hell.

SMILEY stabs PIGEON MAN then throws him through a window.

EXT. A LAWN.

The body of PIGEON MAN lies there, covered in blood.

INT. ANGELA AND JOANIE'S APARTMENT.

SMILEY bursts through the front door. We follow him/her as he goes into the bedroom where it appears that someone is in the bed, covered by the sheets. Brandishing a hunting knife, SMILEY thrusts downwards, over and over again but there are neither screams nor blood. SMILEY tears back the sheets, revealing a pile of pillows. Enraged, SMILEY overturns the bed and storms out.

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT.

BRAD, TOM and FRED (crying on TOM's shoulder) are now present and so are RALPH and POTSIE.

BRAD: You brought us here for what?

ANDREA: Safety in numbers.

BRAD: Do you really think Smiley is out to get you?

ANDREA: Yes! And two of you three too!

FRED: What?

ANDREA: Think about it: who dies in horror movies? The trashy tramp--that's me--the smart guy--that's you, Brad--and the dumbo brunette--that's you, Fred. The only one here who has any real chance of survival is you, Tom.

TOM: You need serious help, Andrea.

ANDREA: That's why all of you are here! As long as we all stick together, Smiley can't hurt us. No one ever dies in a group in a horror movie.

BRAD: This is not a horror movie.

ANDREA: But Smiley's working according to the rules of horror movies.

BRAD: If that's so--

The bedroom door opens and LORI BETH sticks her head out.

LORI BETH: Could you keep it down out here? Me and Rich are trying to sleep in here.

RICHIE: (out of view) You call this sleeping?

BRAD: No problem. I'm out of here.

TOM: Me, too. Come on, Fred.

BRAD, TOM and FRED get up to leave.

ANDREA: But...

Exit BRAD, TOM and FRED.

ANDREA: Damn! (to LORI BETH) Please don't leave me alone again!

LORI BETH: Hmm...

RIGHT OUTSIDE RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT.

LORI BETH shoves ANDREA out the front door. The sounds of locking can be heard.

ANDREA: Damn! Damn! Damn!

FRED approaches.

FRED: Andrea, I'm worried.

ANDREA: Who isn't?

FRED: I think something (beat) supernatural may be going on.

ANDREA: How so?

FRED: Smiley seems almost superhuman. What if he's really Tommy Taylor's ghost, come back to haunt us until his killer is brought to justice?

ANDREA: You're kidding.

FRED: I'm serious. I've talked to Jennifer. She's a witch. She can make Tommy Taylor's spirit go away if we can get enough people together.

ANDREA's eyes brighten when she hears the word "people".

FRED: I figure you'd be able to help, being a Methodist Satanist and all.

ANDREA: Don't worry, Fred. There's no way I'll leave you to face that ghost alone...

CUT TO: EXT. WOODS.

We sneak up slowly on the tent. As we hear the sound of leaves being crunched beneath feet, the forms of ANGELA and GORDON copulating can be seen projected on the side of the tent and moans and gasps can be heard.

CUT TO: INT. TENT.

ANGELA and GORDON, shown only from the shoulders up, finish up and collapse in a pile. ANGELA kisses GORDON, then rolls off of him.

GORDON: That was great.

ANGELA: (seen sitting up from the back, drawing a pink slip over herself) I just wish we didn't have to be running for our lives for it to be this good.

GORDON: (rolling onto his side) We're safe enough here. There's no chance Smiley will find us out here.

A snicker-snack can be heard and a gloved hand drives a knife through the tent where it embeds in GORDON's back. GORDON falls lifeless while ANGELA screams and the knife is pulled back out.

CUT TO: SMILEY STANDING OVER THE TENT, laughing his/her lungs out. ANGELA is still screaming inside.

SMILEY: Don't you know unprotected sex can be deadly?

ANGELA, wearing only the slip, which conveniently goes down not much further than her crotch and is now stained with blood, crawls out of the front of the tent. Getting up, she goes running out into the darkness, still screaming.

SMILEY: (gleefully) Oh, goodie!

SMILEY goes skipping off after ANGELA.

EXT. THE WOODS.

ANGELA runs meandering through the woods. She trips over a log, picks herself up and notices SMILEY still coming after her. Screaming, she continues her flight. As she runs out of sight, SMILEY appears in the foreground walking calmly after her.

SMILEY: (under his/her breath) Run in a straight line, you idiot! You're making this too easy.

EXT. THE JEEP.

ANGELA hastily opens the door and climbs into the jeep.

INT. THE JEEP.

ANGELA turns the key in the ignition but it stalls. She tries repeatedly, expressions of terror evidencing themselves on her face. SMILEY taps on the passenger-side window.

SMILEY: (holding a spark plug up to the window) Excuse me but don't you need this to start the jeep?

ANGELA screams, opens the driver-side door and runs for her life.

EXT. THE WOODS.

ANGELA, in panic, runs through the woods. She steps on a pine cone, yelps in pain and falls to the ground. She picks herself up but winces in pain and drops to the leaf litter again.

ANGELA: (pulling a piece of the pine cone out of her foot) Damn it! Couldn't I be chased by a psycho killer when I'm wearing shoes?

ANGELA looks over her shoulder. She notices no one but still pulls herself up and flees, only to ram straight into SMILEY who grabs her by the throat with one hand and forces her down on her knees.

ANGELA: Let me go! Please! I won't tell anyone!

SMILEY: I'll make sure of that!

ANGELA: But why me? What have I done to you?

SMILEY: I think you know, McDaniels. It wasn't enough for you to be popular. You had toy with others, pit them against each other so no one would notice how much you outclassed them in being petty and stupid. Who do you think you hurt the most for the sake of your fun?

ANGELA: I don't know!

SMILEY: You do; I think you do. What's my name?

ANGELA: What?

SMILEY: (holding a knife to her throat) Say my name, bitch!

ANGELA: I don't know! Moon Child!

SMILEY: Wrong answer, back-stabber! It's time to play the dying game!

ANGELA: No! (punches SMILEY in the stomach)

SMILEY drops to the ground in pain as ANGELA runs off.

EXT. THE WOODS.

ANGELA, now out of breath, crawls into a bush.

INT. THE BUSH.

ANGELA notices nothing wrong and breathes a quiet sigh of relief. A moment later, a gloved hand reaches into the bush and touches her on the shoulder. ANGELA screams as she is dragged out of the bush.

EXT. THE BUSH.

SMILEY: (dragging ANGELA out of the bush) Don't hide. I want to play a game with you.

ANGELA: A game?

SMILEY: (pulling ANGELA's flute out) Remember this? I want you to show me how you stole Jason Feldman from Joanie Cunningham.

ANGELA: But I never played flute for him! He's into polka music!

SMILEY: That's not what I meant. (shoves the flute in her face) Do it!

ANGELA: What?

SMILEY: Suck it, bitch!

SMILEY shoves the end of the flute in ANGELA's mouth and continues shoving it down her throat. The flute blocks her airway and her eyes bug out and her arms flail uselessly as she chokes. Her struggles quickly stop. SMILEY pulls the end of the flute out of her throat and wipes the blood off of it.

EXT. PHFISTER GRAVEYARD--NIGHT.

On the cloudy night, the silence of the graveyard is interrupted by the footsteps of four people walking about. Armed with flashlights, they look about, finally finding the grave of TOMMY TAYLOR. One of them speaks.

JENNIFER: This is it. We'd better set up.

JENNIFER, ANDREA, LORI BETH and JOANIE begin to set up their apparatus before the headstone. JOANIE lays out a pentagram using white sand on the dirt while ANDREA lays out black candles at each point. LORI BETH lights some incense and JENNIFER gets out a goblet and a dagger. Hearing something move in the bushes, LORI BETH yelps only to recover her composure as a black cat runs across her path. LORI BETH produces a scrambled Rubik's Cube which she proceeds to rapidly solve. JENNIFER takes the Cube from LORI BETH and places it in the middle of the pentagram. The women then jab each others' fingers and squeeze some of the blood into the goblet which they place on the Cube. Then they sit around it, light the candles then join hands.

JENNIFER: Ah-dey doo-ey dahm-bah-lah. Give me the power I beg of you!

ALL: Hail to the watchtowers.

JENNIFER: Hail to the watchtower of the east, witness of the beginning day. I invoke thee in the name of the element of earth.

JOANIE: Hail to the watchtower of the south, witness of the blowing winds. I invoke thee in the name of the element of air.

ANDREA: Hail to the watchtower of the west, witness to the beginning night. I invoke thee in the name of the element of water.

LORI BETH: Hail to the watchtower of the north, witness to the guiding stars. I invoke thee in the name of the element of fire.

JENNIFER: We take into ourselves the power to exorcize Tommy Taylor of UWM, he who has risen amongst us. We cast thee back to the other realm from which thou came. Get thee back in thy grave. (produces a Voodoo doll and does to it what she says) We tear your head off, tear you to shreds, stomp on your remains and scatter them to the four winds. The power of our cries compels thee.

ALL: The power of our cries compels thee.

JENNIFER: Ah-dey doo-ey dahm-bah-lah! Ah-dey doo-ey dahm-bah-lah! Ah-dey doo-ey dahm-bah-lah! Kla-too ba-ra-ta nik-to!

JOANIE: Kla-too ba-ra-ta nik-to!

ANDREA: Kla-too ba-ra-ta nik-to!

JOANIE: Kla-too ba-ra-ta necktie!

A loud thunderclap is heard. All eyes turn towards LORI BETH.

JENNIFER: "Necktie"!?! The word is "nik-to" not "necktie", you inflatable bimbo!

LORI BETH: Well, it was almost right!

JENNIFER: You ruined the spell, Lori. The exorcism has failed. Now we can't get him back in his grave. It's just one little word and you can't get it right. Great job, silicone queen.

LORI BETH: These are real; damn it! (runs off)

JOANIE: Well, that's it for me then. I'd better turn in.

ANDREA: What! You can't leave!

JOANIE: I don't like graveyards. I might be a bit creepy but I have limits.

JENNIFER: I'm going, too. I think I'll go home and read that copy of Buckland's again.

ANDREA: Hey! We can't split up!

JENNIFER: Why not?

ANDREA: I told you: we split up and Smiley will come! You always die when you're alone and you stand a good chance of dying when someone else is around. It's only when you have three or more together that the odds get really good.

JOANIE: I agreed to one magical ceremony in a graveyard because I could get a paper out of it for my comparative religion class. Baby-sitting you was not part of the deal.

JENNIFER: I consider you a friend, Andrea, but I'm not up to pandering to the paranoid delusions you've cooked up by watching too much hackneyed fiction. And I don't think that outfit was really appropriate for this ceremony. I mean: plastic, what were you thinking? You're on your own, Andrea.

ANDREA: Damn! Damn! Damn! (runs off)

JOANIE: I thought she'd never leave.

[Race's Girl]

CUT TO: GRANT WITH ANDREA IN A BAR.

SMILEY appears briefly in the background, unnoticed by anyone.

ANDREA: I'm not kidding, Grant. Now is the time to get the Hell out of here before Smiley gets us.

GRANT: Smiley is not going to get me. I can take care of myself.

ANDREA: What are you going to do? Reason with him? "No, please don't kill me, Mr. Smiley Face! I want to be in the sequel!" How many people has he stabbed to death so far? Do you honestly think you can defend yourself against him?

GRANT: I think you are forgetting something important here. Gordon, Graham and Evan were wusses. I am not. Angela and Heather were girls. I am not one either. I am a man, a real man, full of muscle and testosterone and I assure you I am not going to fall prey to some psycho in a stupid mask the way they did. Who do serial killers go after? They go after wusses and girls, not real men. I am a real man; therefore I will not get killed.

ANDREA: You're a real idiot; that's what you are. Evan was many things but not a wuss. And how many times did Angela beat people up? Are you so conceited that you think your ego will protect you?

GRANT: Do I sense some hostility here? If you're really so worried, why are you dressed like that?

ANDREA: Argh! Why do I bother? I try to dress formally for a religious ceremony and all I get is criticism! (beat) Fine. You want to die, go right ahead. (begins stomping off)

GRANT: Andrea... Andrea, wait!

ANDREA: If you think I'm going to sleep with you while this stuff is going on, forget it. You want to get yourself killed by being a macho idiot, go ahead but you're not taking me down with you.

GRANT: That's not what I'm trying to do. Where are you going?

ANDREA: What the smart person does. When a knife-wielding maniac is on the loose, the smart thing to do is to run away. I'm going to find some friends and get the Hell out here. The important thing is we are leaving and if your brain is even a fraction of the size your butt indicates, you'll do the same too.

GRANT: I am not scared of this guy.

ANDREA: Don't you watch horror movies? You are flaunting your disrespect of the situation, and people who do that usually don't live to take it back. You are going to die, Grant unless you wise up really fast.

GRANT: This is so stupid, Andrea...

ANDREA: No, you're stupid, Grant. I'll see you in Hell! (exits)

GRANT: (calling after her) Andrea! (beat) Andrea, come back! (beat; to self) Shoot!

GRANT, distressed, hardly believing what has happened, heads for a rest-room.

INT. REST-ROOM.

GRANT is splashing cold water on his face. Suddenly SMILEY bursts out of a stall brandishing a knife.

SMILEY: Boo!

GRANT's eyes bug out as SMILEY laughs maniacally.

SMILEY: Welcome to your nightmare!

GRANT runs to get the door open when suddenly SMILEY jabs the knife into it.

SMILEY: Don't leave! The party's just getting started!

SMILEY punches GRANT in the face, sending him flying onto his butt. Pulling the knife out of the door, he/she brings the knife down towards GRANT's face but the latter rolls out of the way just in time. SMILEY, doing so, falls down on top of the embedded knife's handle and cries out as he/she does so. GRANT opens the door and slams it behind himself.

INT. BAR, PASSAGEWAY.

GORDON runs through the passageway. He runs into a man in a sweater with broad red and green stripes and leaning on a broom talking to a janitor in a blue jump-suit.

GORDON: Aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!! (runs away)

MAN: What was his problem?

JANITOR: Beats the hell out of me. So went to visit my sister...

INT. BAR, PASSAGEWAY.

SMILEY pops out in front of GRANT and shoves him into the wall. He/she grabs his neck with one hand, squeezing tightly. GRANT's eyes bug out and he struggles to pry his/her hand away. Awful-sounding gasps escape his throat until he suffocates and SMILEY releases him. Dead, GRANT collapses on the floor like a rag doll.

EXT. BAR.

ANDREA walks out the front door and mounts a motorcycle out front. As she puts on her helmet, SMILEY bursts out the front door, knife in hand.

SMILEY: (imitating Ed McMahon) Here's Smiley!

ANDREA, a look of shock on her face, tries starting her motorcycle but it stutters several times as SMILEY approaches slowly.

SMILEY: Going so soon? I wouldn't hear of it!

ANDREA: (under her breath) Damned battery.

Finally the bike starts and ANDREA pulls away from the curb, her tires squealing. SMILEY, sighting ARTIE on the other side of the street parking a pizza delivery van, rushes over to him and holds his/her knife to his throat.

SMILEY: Your pizza van or your life!

ARTIE: But they'll take it out of my salary!

SMILEY: I've got places to go and people to kill! (opens the door, pulls ARTIE out of the van, climbs in, and drives off)

ARTIE: My boss is going to kill me!

EXT. RYAN STREET.

ANDREA's motorcycle weaves in and out of traffic.

ANDREA'S POINT OF VIEW, REAR-VIEW MIRROR.

A pizza van can be seen gaining on her.

ANDREA ON HER MOTORCYCLE.

ANDREA: Damn!

SMILEY's pizza van continues to get closer, cutting off several cars. ANDREA makes a hard left turn onto a side street which SMILEY is hard-pressed to follow and smashes a car in the process.

ANDREA'S POINT OF VIEW, REAR-VIEW MIRROR.

The pizza van is still gaining on her.

ANDREA ON HER MOTORCYCLE.

ANDREA: Damn! Damn! Damn!

ANDREA suddenly turns off the road and into an all-night Good Time Chinese restaurant (as indicated by a neon sign in the front window).

INT. GOOD TIME CHINESE RESTAURANT.

The few customers inside scatter. ANDREA is thrown from her bike as it skids, knocks over a few tables and demolishes a purchasing counter and itself before it comes to a stop. GUY FOX (he has a name tag), the messy-haired night manager, is not pleased.

GUY: (approaching; British accent) What in bloody Hell is going on over here? This isn't a rodeo!

ANDREA: (picking herself up) Ow! (favors her left leg, leans on an upright table) I'm sorry. I was just being chased by slasher-killer in a pizza truck.

GUY: What sort of bloody idiot do you think I am? Is that lame-arse story the best you can do?

ANDREA: Hello? We're talking Smiley here.

GUY: Yeah, right. I'd be broke if I believed every bloody bastard who came in here claiming to be chased by a serial killer.

WAITRESS WITH NAME TAG SAYING "HAYLEY": God, I got three such weirdoes last week. I can't believe you expect us to buy any of this.

SMILEY enters the room, his/her knife unsheathed.

ANDREA: Look out!

SMILEY slashes at everyone within arm's reach.

SMILEY: (jumping out of the van) Come to Smiley!

Practically everyone screams and stampedes for the exit, except for a chef with a name-tag marked "X", who grabs a steak knife and tries to stab SMILEY, only to get a machete in the gut and ANDREA, who is hampered by a hip injury.

SMILEY: Who's next? (turns to ANDREA) That would be you, Andrea Flynn. Don't be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

Pinning her into a corner, SMILEY holds the machete to her throat.

SMILEY: How does this make you feel, Andrea?

ANDREA: Um, scared?

SMILEY: Are you asking me or telling me? (beat) Any last requests?

ANDREA: Uh, yeah. Fall over, grabbing your foot and screaming.

SMILEY: What?

ANDREA stomps her heel on SMILEY's foot.

SMILEY: (falling over, grabbing his/her foot) Argh! You bitch!

ANDREA, clearly in pain, runs into the kitchen. SMILEY, getting up, catches up with her, forcing her to go out the back of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. The pace quickens and he/she is nearly upon her. Soon ANDREA bursts out onto the rooftop of the building with SMILEY close behind.

SMILEY: (approaching) That wasn't very nice, Andrea.

ANDREA: (backing away) This is the part where I buy it; isn't it?

SMILEY: (still approaching) Correct.

ANDREA: (still backing away) You sure you wouldn't want to be original and let me live?

SMILEY shakes his head.

ANDREA: Do you really want to be known as a strikingly uninspired kill--aaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh!!!!!

ANDREA screams as she falls backwards over the edge of the roof.

SMILEY: (wryly) Idiot. (exits)

CUT TO: INT. RALPH AND POTSIE'S APARTMENT.

RALPH and POTSIE are sitting in front of the television. RALPH is multitasking with sketching a picture of POTSIE with a pencil on paper.

VAL: (on recording) Last month, we brought you the shocking tale of a high school ruled by fear and sexual intercourse. But this is not the only shameful fact that has been kept under the carpet of this suburb. For although this appears to be a quiet town, it has not only been ruled by sex but also by the Devil.

FRED: (on recording, captioned FRED COLLINS, MAYOR OF MILWAUKEE'S SECRETARY) This is not my fault! We were so careful! But they put a spell on me because I'm one of the popular people and that's why my girlfriend Louise couldn't pull out in time!

VAL: (on recording, standing in front of the school) Not only is there a fashion club at this school but also a Satanism club. Several of these students have banded together to form a club where they do black magic and now anyone who stands in their way has to suffer the consequences.

RALPH: (on recording, captioned RALPH HECTOR MALPH, SATANIST) Oh, sure, we're in a cult. Yes, me and my friends, we're all, uh, a bunch of Satanists. We worship Satan. We put hexes on people and raise dead spirits to go kill people and do bad things to our enemies. You know what I do to people I don't like? I make them crawl, I say! Crawl!

POTSIE: Easy there, Malph.

RALPH: It's amazing that, no matter how stupid the story, this channel will broadcast it if it's stupider than anything else on any other channel.

POTSIE: What about UPN?

POTSIE: (on recording) There is no cult. You are all full of poop. So go away, grow up and don't do journalism until that happens.

VAL: (on recording) But, Mr. Weber--

POTSIE on the recording steps on VAL'S foot.

POTSIE: And they haven't improved since.

RALPH: You know: you're kind of cute when you're ticked off.

VAL: (on recording) .. but even worse tragedy has struck UWM. Not even a week ago was the tragic death of Thomas Eugene Taylor, star player of the UWM football team.

RALPH: (noticing) Uh, Pots...

VAL: (on recording) Taylor stayed later after school to practice and afterwards, when he was alone, he was savagely attacked.

RALPH: Look at that!

VAL: (on recording) When it was found, Taylor's body had been savagely mutilated. He had been stabbed multiple times, dragged for some distance and then hung on a goal post.

POTSIE: Oh my God!

RALPH: (pausing recording) Anything for ratings; isn't it?

POTSIE: I know who the killer is now. I gotta call Rich and Lori Beth.

RALPH: Who?

POTSIE: Joanie.

RALPH: Rich's sister?

POTSIE: Check the shirts, Ralphie. The answer is on that padded chest. It all makes sense. Killing Tommy Taylor hurts Farrell, her big rival. Farrell and Angela are both rivals and thus good targets. Killing Heather hurts both of us. Hurting Daphne hurts the Fonz. The attack on the Fonz himself is obvious. We've got to stop her.

RALPH: I'm coming with you. You can't face Joanie by yourself!

POTSIE: (dressed like Rambo) Let's go.

POTSIE and RALPH leave the apartment.

RIGHT OUTSIDE JOANIE AND ANGELA'S APARTMENT.

RICHIE approaches JOANIE's door. There is a white Hermes scarf tied around the doorknob. RICHIE is about to knock when he hears voices on the other side and the rhythmic thumping of a headboard against a wall.

RICHIE: (softly, to herself) I don't believe this! (normally, pounding on the door) Joanie, open up! It's Rich!

JOANIE: (out of view) What the--! Damn! (beat) Give me a moment!

MALE VOICE #1: (out of view) Your brother Richie? He's a nerd.

RICHIE: No!

JOANIE: (out of view) Cousin, Sam. He's my cousin.

There is the sound of locks being undone. The door opens revealing JOANIE in a silk bathrobe. She is sweaty and her hair is a total mess.

JOANIE: Can you come back later, Rich? I'm a little busy right now.

RICHIE: It's important.

JOANIE: Not more important than what I'm doing.

RICHIE: You can sleep with Sam and Chris Griffin anytime.

JOANIE: What the Hell makes you think I'm doing that?

RICHIE: Other than you've done it before? (calling around JOANIE) Sam! Don't come out here or I'll kick your butt!

SAM (= male voice #1), a teenager wearing only his boxer shorts and socks, emerges, looking eager. He has obviously been with JOANIE at least once this evening.

SAM: Hey, Rich. You look more nerdier than the last time I saw you.

RICHIE: And you're not, Bucko. I need to talk to Joanie now so get your clothes, get your brother and get out of here right now.

SAM: We're going back to your apartment to do it? Cool! (calling back) Chris! I'm going back to the Cunningham place to do it with his missus!

CHRIS: (out of view) Cool. You think she'll sleep with me?

RICHIE: Lori Beth's not sleeping with you, Sam. You and Chris have ten seconds to get out of here.

JOANIE: You can't throw my guests out!

RICHIE: Would you like their parents to know you've been sleeping with their underage teenagers? True, they might be libertines but it's more likely they'll see you as a statutory rapist. Maybe I should tell Farrell you're doing both of her brothers.

JOANIE: Sam, you and Chris go home now. This is private stuff between me and Richie.

SAM: Damn! (calling back) Chris, we got to go!

CHRIS: (out of view) Alright, alright.

SAM reenters the apartment.

JOANIE: This better be good, Rich.

RICHIE: You tell me, Smiley.

JOANIE: Excuse me?

RICHIE: You know what I mean.

JOANIE: I know that I am standing at the door talking to my brother who has obviously gone insane.

RICHIE bursts in and heads for the bedroom, running into CHRIS and SAM, both teens dressed sloppily.

CHRIS: Hey, Rich.

RICHIE: Can't you and your brother fornicate with someone your own age?

CHRIS: Yeah but Joanie's so hot. Is it true that you don't like guys like Joanie says?

RICHIE: If it will keep Sam from sending me obscene messages, then yes.

CHRIS: (to SAM) Told you so!

SAM: Damn! (hands CHRIS some money) Hey, Joans, does that mean Angie's a lesbian, too?

RICHIE: Out, guys before I call Farrell!

CHRIS: Argh!

SAM and CHRIS run out.

RICHIE: Thank God they're gone.

SAM: (out of view, calling from the hallway) Will you let your missus do me, Rich?

CHRIS: (out of view) Sam, you idiot!

JOANIE slams the door angrily as RICHIE starts for her closet.

JOANIE: (following) Have you lost your freaking mind, Rich?

RICHIE: (rifling through closet) Where is it!

JOANIE: Where's what?

RICHIE: The pink shirt with the smiley face on it, the one you always wore in high school.

JOANIE: For your information, I had many shirts which I wore at different times far apart in time.

RICHIE: (walking) Well, wherever it is, that stupid symbol is the same as the mask of the murderer--the smiley face, the symbol of obliviousness which is how you like your victims.

JOANIE: I have changed a tonne since high school; believe me.

RICHIE: Moving up from manipulation to homicide. That's quite a leap.

JOANIE: You'd better watch what you say, Rich.

RICHIE: You killed Heather, Evan and Brooke, Angela, Graham, Gordon, Grant, Mel, Pigeon Man and even Stupid Dude. Who else are you going to kill? Tom, who never bowed to you? Jennifer the traitor? Me, perhaps?

JOANIE: Rich, you know I've changed. Believe me: I don't have anyone to blame for what happened to me but myself. You know I'm not bearing a grudge, and even if I did, I wouldn't waste my time killing people who don't even stand in my way.

RICHIE: Stop lying, Joanie!

JOANIE: I'm not lying!

RICHIE: (getting in JOANIE's face) Tell me why you killed them, you DOB!

JOANIE: (suddenly looking very frightened) Rich, uh, maybe you ought to ask him.

JOANIE points to behind RICHIE.

PAN TO SHOW: SMILEY holding a large knife menacingly.

SMILEY: Hello, gang. Time to die.

SMILEY stabs JOANIE in the shoulder causing her to scream. RICHIE sprays something at SMILEY through the eyeholes of his/her mask causing him/her to crumple, holding his/her face and screaming.

RICHIE: Thank God for pepper spray.

SMILEY: God damn you!

JOANIE: (grabbing RICHIE's wrist) Come on!

JOANIE and RICHIE run out of the apartment getting away from SMILEY who is starting to slash around blindly but only hitting bric-a-brac.

CUT TO: HALLWAY.

RICHIE and JOANIE run out into the hallway nearly tripping over the unconscious baby-sitter cop and rush up the stairwell followed closely by a very angry SMILEY. On the next floor, they run down the hall where JOANIE trips and falls headlong. RICHIE helps her up and out of the way of SMILEY just before he/she can bear down on her. At the foot of the next set of stairs, SMILEY trips on the edge of his/her coat and falls. RICHIE turns and, as SMILEY gets up, kicks him/her in the face, sending him/her flying back, the knife dropping to the floor noisily. As SMILEY gets up, RICHIE fires the pepper spray but misses. JOANIE lunges for the knife but is kicked in the abdomen by SMILEY who grabs the knife and then runs for the stairwell. After a chase of a few levels, SMILEY races past ARTIE, who is carrying pizza boxes up the stairs and looking very confused. RICHIE collides with him sending the pizzas tumbling down to the landing in a pile.

ARTIE: (as he and RICHIE collect themselves) Uh, did you order the double cheese with mushrooms?

RICHIE: God damn it!

RICHIE gets up and continues the chase. In the lobby, he nearly runs into the SMILEY mask eliciting a scream. We pull back to reveal FLEMING holding it.

FLEMING: I hate missing the party.

EXT. MIDDLETON COLLEGE, BY THE PSYCHOLOGY BUILDING--TWILIGHT.

TOM approaches the psychology building when he is approached by a teary-eyed JENNIFER wearing a black tank top that exposes her midriff and high heels and carrying a heavy book-bag.

TOM: Jen? Are you Okay?

JENNIFER: Tom, I need help.

TOM: What's wrong?

JENNIFER: Potsie broke up with me and I can't get over it!

TOM: Not again...

JENNIFER: I've tried to put him out of my mind but he keeps haunting me. I don't even understand why he broke up with me. What does he see in Loretta, anyway?

TOM: (not paying much attention) I don't know.

JENNIFER: I paid attention to him. I tried to satisfy his needs. I even tried to avoid playing that Buddy Holly he hates. But what happened? Every single time we did it, he called out her name! What the Hell was she doing to him to make him act like that?

TOM: Beats the Hell out of me.

JENNIFER: It gets worse. I read my fortune with tarot cards and there were many of the darker members of the major arcana in key positions: Death, the Hanging Man, the Hierophant, the Fool. All indications are that something very bad is going to happen to me very soon.

TOM: That stuff doesn't mean anything.

JENNIFER: I double-checked it against my horoscope: Aries, Mars rising, Saturn and Venus in conjunction, the Moon in the seventh house. I'm in for a turn of very bad luck.

TOM: You really ought to know--

BRAD approaches, exiting the psychology building.

BRAD: Hey, Tom. Can I consult with you for a minute?

TOM: Just a minute, Jenny. (to BRAD) What's up?

BRAD: You know about that drug we're supposed to inject some of the mice with?

TOM: What about it?

BRAD: I think they sent us the wrong one; we've got something fluorescent yellow.

TOM: I'd better handle this. (to JENNIFER) I'll call you later, Okay?

JENNIFER reluctantly nods. BRAD and TOM hastily enter the psychology building. JENNIFER sadly walks away.

FADE TO: ELSEWHERE ON CAMPUS.

It is a bit darker now. JENNIFER is walking among the buildings. Footsteps other than her own are heard.

JENNIFER: (stopping, turning) Who's there?

Only a shadowy figure can be seen.

FIGURE: A deranged serial killer.

JENNIFER: Yeah, right. Is that you, Ralph?

FIGURE: Actually...

The figure steps forward, revealing SMILEY.

SMILEY: ... I am a deranged serial killer.

JENNIFER screams. As she backs away, SMILEY approaches her.

SMILEY: Oh, come on! Everyone screams when they see me. Can't one of you pinheads do something a bit more original?

JENNIFER hits SMILEY in the head with her book-bag. As SMILEY hits the sidewalk, JENNIFER jumps over him/her and runs away.

CUT TO: ELSEWHERE ON MIDDLETON CAMPUS

JENNIFER, running, heads to make a left turn around a corner--until a knife flies in front of her and embeds itself in a wall with a loud thwack! Enter SMILEY.

SMILEY: Going somewhere?

JENNIFER: (backing away) Now just calm down. (beat) Can't we just discuss this?

SMILEY: (approaching) No.

JENNIFER: But aren't you supposed to explain your evil plan before you kill me?

SMILEY: That would only be true if you were the hero. You don't even qualify as the hero's sidekick.

JENNIFER: But...! (beat) You know, all this scary stuff is really turning me on.

SMILEY: You're kidding; right?

JENNFIER: You're a big, strong, mysterious man. You're actually putting me in the mood.

SMILEY: Listen: I'm flattered. I really am. Believe me, I'm all for pretty girls throwing themselves at me. But I'm just not interested in you Tattoos on the butt are a real turn-off in a woman.

JENNIFER: Hey! Who told you about that?

SMILEY: Word gets around. In any case, tearing your clothes off and doing it right here is not in the job description. Now, let's play.

JENNIFER: But can't we just (beat) talk? Why are you doing this? I want to know your pain.

SMILEY: Now you're just asking for it. (beat) Come on, Jennifer. Give me your best shot.

JENNIFER grabs SMILEY's mask, rotates it around so he/she cannot see through the eye-holes, knees him/her, and runs off. SMILEY does not fall to the ground but he/she calmly adjusts his/her mask.

SMILEY: How come this never happens to Norman Bates? (walks calmly after JENNIFER)

JENNIFER picks up a loose brick and throws it through the front window of a store called "GUNS OF ROSE'S". JENNIFER reaches in the opening, pulls out a semiautomatic machine gun and keeps shooting at SMILEY until she runs out of bullets. SMILEY drops to the sidewalk, his/her machete clattering on the cement. Seeing no sign of life, JENNIFER breathes a sigh of relief.

JENNIFER: (doing a victory dance) Yes! Yes! Yes! I just kicked your butt! I killed you!

SMILEY suddenly springs back to life, picks up the machete and shoves it into JENNIFER's chest. JENNIFER, a shocked look on her face, drops lifeless to the sidewalk.

SMILEY: (doing a victory dance) Yes! Yes! Yes! I just kicked your butt! I killed you! (beat) Moron. (pulls his/her machete out of JENNIFER's chest, wipes the blood off of the blade, and walks away)

INT. RALPH AND POTSIE'S APARTMENT.

RALPH is sitting in front of the television, a number of books and papers spread out around him.

CUT TO: SMILEY'S PERSPECTIVE.

SMILEY comes down the hallway, slowly approaching RALPH from behind.

CUT TO: RALPH.

While RALPH watches television and munches popcorn instead of the studying he should be doing, SMILEY comes up slowly behind him, holding his/her knife over RALPH's head.

VAL: (on television) And so what happened to you then?

PERSON: (on television) It was horrible. This maniac came up behind me and tried to stab me in the head with a knife.

RALPH: Come on! That only happens in horror movies!

SMILEY begins to scream and bring the knife down. RALPH, shocked, turns and hits SMILEY in the face with a thick book. SMILEY falls backwards allowing RALPH to sprint away. SMILEY gets up and follows her.

CUT TO: RALPH, running towards the kitchen.

Reaching the kitchen, RALPH jumps, slides over the island counter in the center of the kitchen and then drops to his feet on the other side. SMILEY, running after him, slips and falls again, continuing to slide straight into the oven door.

RALPH: I never thought waxing the floor would pay off.

RALPH slips out of his shoes and grabs a rolling pin from the counter. SMILEY stands up, unsteadily, swipes at RALPH a few times with the knife. He/she misses but is close. SMILEY brings the knife straight down but RALPH stops it with the rolling pin and pushes it back sending SMILEY falling onto his/her behind again. As he/she starts to get up again, he swings the rolling pin, hitting SMILEY straight in the face and knocking him/her out cold.

RALPH: Somebody had to wipe that smile off your face.

Going over to the phone, RALPH dials 911. The rings can be heard, followed by a picking-up sound.

VOICE: (through phone) 911.

RALPH: (into phone) I have a maniac in a rubber mask who just tried to stab me to death. I knocked him out with a rolling pin. Could you send the police to pick him up?

VOICE: (through phone) Please hold.

While RALPH is talking, in the background, SMILEY can be seen sitting up, holding his/her head and trying to stand up. He/she slips and falls forwards onto RALPH.

RALPH: I do not want to--damn!

SMILEY, stunned from the fall, tries choking RALPH from behind. RALPH, after having his eyes bug out for a moment, punches him/her in the face, eliciting a cry of pain, followed by him/her grabbing his/her own face and rolling off her. RALPH runs back across the kitchen floor, soon followed by SMILEY sliding after him looking like an unsteady surfer.

CUT TO: BEDROOM.

RALPH runs into the bedroom, which is cluttered and messy to the point of disgusting. While he can easily navigate to the other end, SMILEY is slowed by the piles of books and art supplies and ends up slipping on a jar of paint powder and falls backwards onto a hideous sculpture. SMILEY cries out, flips him/herself up and keeps coming even as RALPH retreats to the far corner.

SMILEY: You're gonna die for that, Red!

RALPH: You have to get me first!

Enraged, SMILEY charges at RALPH, who in turn jumps up on the bed and to safety. As he/she turns and brandishes a knife, RALPH makes a flying kick to his/her chest. Screaming, SMILEY goes flying though a large glass window which shatters noisily, RALPH falling on some dirty laundry on the floor. SMILEY's fall can be seen in slow motion as he/she descends several stories and lands on the ground with a distinct thud.

RALPH: (running to the window and looking out) That must have hurt.

RALPH grabs the phone and dials 911.

VOICE: 911.

RALPH: Yeah, the knife-wielding maniac who almost killed me got up and almost killed me again. He fell out a third-story window so you'd better send an ambulance if you wish to save-- (glances out window, notices SMILEY is no longer there) Damn! He's gone!

INT. ANGIE, NIKKI, AND LISA'S APARTMENT.

The former UWM cheerleaders and BRITTANY are sitting on the carpet talking, all of them wearing flimsy nighties.

LISA: It's not that bad.

BRITTANY: Yes it is, Lisa! I was the head cheerleader; he was the quarterback. People like that are bound to be together. It's destiny. And now he's gone and my one true soul-mate is lost. Who is there going to be there for me now?

ANGIE: You needed Mel like you needed a hole in the head. You'll be better off without him.

A knocking can be heard at the door.

NIKKI: Were we expecting someone?

LISA: I don't think so.

ANGIE: Maybe it's the Smiley Face Killer coming to get us.

BRITTANY bursts out crying again.

LISA:That's so unfunny right now. Go check the door.

ANGIE: Yeah, yeah.

ANGIE gets up and opens the door, revealing SMILEY who is standing there behind NIKKI, the tip of his/her knife poking through her chest. A horrified look on her face, SMILEY allows her to slip off and fall onto the floor.

SMILEY: Who's next?

BRITTANY, ANGIE and LISA scream. SMILEY charges and hurls his/her shoulder against the door, shutting it fast. While LISA tries to break down the door from the other side, SMILEY quickly stabs ANGIE in the chest and lets her fall down dead. BRITTANY merely jumps up and down screaming while LISA goes running off into the bathroom. SMILEY chases LISA who is also screaming, grabs her hair, and smashes her head against the bathroom mirror several times before stabbing her in the back and dropping her corpse. Meanwhile, BRITTANY has been struggling against the door. LISA manages to kick the door in hitting BRITTANY in the face. Grabbing a chair, she tries to dash it over SMILEY, who is coming at her with a knife but he misses and gets stabbed in the abdomen. As LISA collapses limply onto the floor, BRITTANY runs out into the hallway. Shots ring out and BRITTANY flies backwards. Standing a distance down the hall is PROF. CLAKRSON with a shotgun.

PROF. CLARKSON: (dancing around) I got him! I got him! I got him, I got him, I got-- (noticing it is BRITTANY he shot) Wait a minute...

SMILEY appears in the hallway behind PROF. CLARKSON and stabs him in the back. PROF. CLAKRSON jerks into a stunned position then collapses as he coughs up some blood and falls onto the floor.

SMILEY: I always hated that guy.

SMILEY exits by the nearby stairwell as TOM comes out into the hall and screams. BRITTANY suddenly sits up, one side of her head bleeding.

BRITTANY: (pathetically) My head hurts.

FADE TO: INT. MEN'S BATHROOM.

RICHIE exits a stall and begins to wash his hands. There is a creaking noise for a moment. RICHIE startles and turns to look back at the stalls, but nothing is there. He returns to washing her hands and then hears the creak again. This time he stops, shuts the faucet off, and shakes the water off his hands.

RICHIE: Hello? Is someone there?

There is no response. RICHIE looks under the stalls but sees nothing.

RICHIE: (to self) You're going crazy, Cunningham. (beat) Great, now you're talking to yourself. People will know you're crazy.

The creak occurs again. RICHIE jumps.

RICHIE: (to self) I did hear that.

RICHIE turns to face the stalls and sees a pair of boots lower one at a time to the floor from within one stall followed by the rim of a black trench coat falling loosely around them. RICHIE's eyes bug out.

RICHIE: Oh, damn!

There is a snicker-snack and the stall door opens, revealing SMILEY. He/she approaches, brandishing a knife.

SMILEY: Mind if I drop in?

SMILEY lunges for RICHIE, who heads for the exit. SMILEY stops him/herself at the sink and goes after RICHIE nearly on top of him. As he/she is about to stab him, he turns and kicks him/her in the groin. There is the sound of a thud, with SMILEY still standing.

SMILEY: Always remember to use protection.

RICHIE hits SMILEY in the solar plexus, followed by a punch to the face. SMILEY goes flying back, giving RICHIE a chance to run. He exits the bathroom and goes flying past the dead baby-sitter cop and down an empty hallway. SMILEY is close behind him. He overturns some desks in the hall as he passes but SMILEY merely goes around them. He makes it into an auditorium and runs down towards the front, SMILEY still following. Reaching the chalkboard, he grabs a chalkboard protractor and swings it at SMILEY who knocks it out of the way with his/her knife. He/she holds the knife in his face.

SMILEY: Is that how we behave in school?

RICHIE: Um, Mr. Smiley, do you think we could, um, talk about this?

SMILEY: What's there to talk about? I want to play a game with you.

RICHIE: A game?

SMILEY: Yeah, a game. It's called "How fast can I run in five seconds?" Five Mississippi, four Mississippi--

RICHIE runs like Hell out of a nearby exit into another hallway. A moment later SMILEY bursts out of the same door and charges after him. RICHIE spins and gives SMILEY a swinging kick in the face, knocking him/her over. RICHIE returns to running and comes flying out a door to the outside straight into FONZIE sending his books flying and falling right on top on him on the grass.

RICHIE: Fonz!

FONZIE: This is a warm hello.

RICHIE: (climbing off him) It's Smiley! He was just in there chasing me!

FONZIE: (getting up) And it'll be the last time this happens.

RICHIE: Fonz! Don't!

We follow FONZIE as he enters the building. He looks around but sees nothing. He turns and goes back to where RICHIE is waiting for him outside.

RICHIE: (smiling at FONZIE) Oh my God! You didn't have to go in there!

FONZIE: It's safe. He ain't there no more. Don't worry, you're safe now.

RICHIE: No we're not! Don't you see? He's toying with us! This bastard can kill us at any time and he's just toying with us! (screaming up in the air) Come on, Smiley! Come and get me! What are you waiting for! What are you waiting for!

FONZIE: Only one thing we can do: fight.

CUT TO: INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY.

A fire extinguisher is thrown into a glass panel shattering it and allowing RICHIE to grab the axe inside.

RICHIE: (taking the axe with both hands) I'd say this constitutes an emergency.

RALPH: (brandishing a machete) Let's get the murdering bastard.

POTSIE: (holding a machine gun) You said it.

RIHCIE, RALPH and POTSIE sneak through the hallway and out the front of the building onto the streets. They don't get very far before FLEMING and DANIELSON see them from the car.

FLEMING: (doing a spit-take with his coffee) What the Hell are they doing?

DANIELSON: Looks like vigilantism.

FLEMING: Great.

FLEMING and DANIELSON exit the car and approach the trio very quickly.

FLEMING: Where do you think you're going, boys?

RALPH: Someone killed the bodyguards and we didn't even hear it. You think we're going to stay in there?

FLEMING: God damn it!

DANIELSON: You stay with them; I'll check it out. (runs into building)

FLEMING: Danielson! (to RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH) They're dead and you heard nothing?

POTSIE: Apparently the cops around here aren't too good with knife-wielding maniacs.

RICHIE: In case it hasn't dawned on you, this guy is really good at sneaking up on others.

SMILEY suddenly appears and runs at POTSIE knocking him over and sending the axe clattering to the ground. He/she is about to plunge a knife into his when a shot rings out and he/she jerks. There are additional reports followed by SMILEY's knife clattering to the sidewalk. SMILEY's body lands with a thud and POTSIE, stunned, stares wide-eyed. RICHIE and RALPH drop their weapons and run over helping POTSIE up.

FLEMING: You shouldn't have come out here. That maniac nearly killed you.

POTSIE: And if we hadn't come out, he would have killed us in there. Thank God it's over now.

RICHIE: I'll second that.

FLEMING: I'm going to have a talk with that police chief. No one can be that good at sneaking up on someone.

FLEMING suddenly collapses as his head leaves his shoulders and rolls face-up on the pavement. Above him stands SMILEY, still alive holding RALPH's machete.

SMILEY: Heads will roll.

RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH glance at each other and begin running. RICHIE is running slightly faster and leading RALPH and POTSIE as SMILEY walks after them with the weapon. They reach the door of a dormitory, try to enter but find it locked. They begin banging on it frantically as a student wanders the lobby.

RALPH: Let us in!

POTSIE: Open the door, God damn it!

STUDENT: Yeah, yeah. (opens the door)

RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH rush in, force the door closed behind themselves.

STUDENT: You have student IDs; right?

RICHIE: Yeah.

The three of them rush up the stairs and burst onto another floor. Two uniformed officers are standing in front of a dorm room.

RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH: (altogether) Gangway!!!

OFFICER #1: You can't--

RICHIE does a flying kick which bursts the door open. He, RALPH and POTSIE stare in surprise and a pounding can be heard on the door.

SMILEY: (out of view) Give me what I want and I'll go away!

RICHIE: I don't think that's a problem anymore.

POTSIE pulls the sheets off of the bed and starts to tie them together as SMILEY continues to pound on the door.

SMILEY: (out of view) Surrender Richie!

POTSIE: (tying one end of a sheet to the leg of the desk) Stay away from him, you bastard!

RICHIE: If it will save the rest of you--

RALPH: Hell, no! If one of us goes down, the rest us are going out in a blaze of glory.

SMILEY bursts the door open but RALPH blocks it with the door of the closet. RALPH jumps out of the way as SMILEY's hand comes through the opening and slashes at him with a machete. POTSIE throws one end of the makeshift ladder out the window. RALPH climbs down it as soon as possible. RICHIE looks reluctant to follow. SMILEY bursts through the blockage and rushes at RICHIE. POTSIE picks up a lamp and smashes SMILEY in the face with it, dropping him/her to the floor. Before he/she can recover, POTSIE throws RICHIE over his shoulder and climbs out the window.

EXT. MOESCHBERGER DORMITORY, GROUND LEVEL.

POTSIE and RICHIE reach the ground.

RALPH: Damn it, Rich! You didn't try to let that psycho kill you?

RICHIE: (being put on her feet by POTSIE as LORI BETH arrives) If it would have helped...

POTSIE: (pointing) Later!

EXT. MOESCHBERGER DORMITORY, THIRD FLOOR.

SMILEY can be seen standing at the window of the dorm room.

EXT. MOESCHBERGER DORMITORY, GROUND LEVEL.

LORI BETH: Quick! To the car!

Our heroes run off.

INT. LORI BETH'S CAR.

LORI BETH is driving. RICHIE is riding shotgun. RALPH and POTSIE are in the back.

RALPH: I tell you, Lori Beth, we ought to take Hobcaw Lane.

LORI BETH: That would be a good a idea but can someone please tell me one thing, where are we?

POTSIE: I've been to the cabin before.

RALPH: But do you know where we are?

POTSIE: We'll get there.

RALPH: But do you know where we are now?

POTSIE: I have an unfailing sense of direction. I can guarantee you we'll get there.

RALPH: You're such a Potsie!

POTSIE: I am not.

RICHIE: Shut up! (sighs) It's going to be a long ride.

EXT. HOBCLAW ROAD.

LORI BETH's car pulls up in front of a cabin. Reaching a cabin, POTSIE pounds on the front door.

POTSIE: Open the damn door, Man! There's a serial killer after us!

The gang look behind themselves and POTSIE pounds on the door again. Slowly, the door is unbolted from the other side and cracks open. The door opens and a hand protrudes and pulls our heroes inside.

INT. THE CABIN.

FONZIE bolts the door.

RALPH: Fonz? What are you doing here?

FONZIE: Hiding from the Mob. "The Machine" got out of prison two weeks ago and he ain't happy that da Fonz testified against him.

RICHIE: But that's mad!

FONZIE: We all go a little mad sometimes. (beat) Look: you're all safe here. You'll be fine; that serial killer won't find you here. Why don't I get you some bathrobes and you have a shower?

FADE TO: LATER.

LORI BETH is standing in the main room, reading something on a scrap of paper. Enter FONZIE, unnoticed with the gangs freshly washed clothes.

FONZIE: Ah, I see you found my latest song.

LORI BETH: You scared me for a moment.

FONZIE: There's nothing to worry about. You're the first folks to find this cabin, other than this cub-scout troop. (beat) So, what do you think of the song?

POTSIE: It's very (beat) odd.

FONZIE: Well, that's me for you. No one liked the mushy stuff I wrote before I got into the weird stuff. (hands the gang their clothes) Here you go. I think I got all the dirt out.

RICHIE: Thanks. That wasn't really necessary.

FONZIE: It's no problem. I really am a people-person. I enjoy helping people out. Having to hide out in the middle of nowhere's been Hell for me.

A ding is heard.

FONZIE: Cake's ready. (exits)

Uneasy, LORI BETH takes another look at the song while SMILEY silently enters the room. SMILEY slips behind LORI BETH and puts a knife to her throat and a hand over her mouth.

SMILEY: (quietly) Make a sound and I'll kill you instantly. (beat) So, you thought you could evade me. Well, you were wrong. You know, there's a cliff out that-a-way (motions with knife) that would be the perfect place to dump a body. It's too bad you won't live long enough to see the end-game for my plan; it would make a great story for your show.

RICHIE enters and delivers a flying kick to SMILEY's face.

RICHIE: (bending her index finger) If I see you near my wife agian, Bucko, you're gonna get it

POTSIE: (extending hands) Must... find... brain...

RALPH: (sighs) I told you you're such a Potsie.

A disheveled ANGELA arrives in the cabin.

RICHIE: Since you're supposed to be dead, Angela, do I really want to know why you were hiding in the closet wearing only a slip?

ANGELA: Gordon and I decided to run away and hide in the woods where the Smiley Face Killer couldn't find us. Obviously I was so distraught that I totally forgot about Friday the 13th. Well, the Smiley Face Killer attacked us and killed Gordon and then he tried to choke me with a flute but I just played dead and he went away. Then I came here and hid because it got all icky outside.

LORI BETH: Which is all fine except it doesn't answer two questions: Why are you wearing a slip and how did you survive being choked with a flute?

RALPH: That should be obvious, Lori Beth. One, she was alone with Gordon. Two, she has a low oxygen requirement.

POTSIE: That's ridiculous.

ANGELA: I've had practice. I've managed to suck face for over fifteen minutes at a stretch.

RALPH: Excuse me, but if you did it with Gordon, how did you manage to survive?

ANGELA: (reluctantly) Well, technically I didn't finish so I don't think it counts.

POTSIE: What do you mean "technically"?

ANGELA: (reluctantly) I faked orgasms.

RICHIE: Could we change the topic before I strangle Ralph and Potsie for not being completely honest about who they've been with? That and the former member of the Jefferson High Fashion Club who apparently was one of his conquests?

POTSIE: Sorry. There anything we can do that we've forgotten?

RICHIE: Well, the situation's pretty dire. We're trapped in this building. We can't go outside because of the raging hurricane which we didn't escape from in the first place because no one knew it was going to head towards us until the last minute. We have a serial killer who, from the pattern of whom he-or-she has already killed, probably wants us dead. And because of that last attack, we're separated from any police protection and they can't send more because of the hurricane, assuming that they even knew where we are. We don't have any weapons and we don't have any power, so we're defenseless and stuck in the dark. Have I forgotten anything?

FONZIE: enters) That Smiley is immune to pain?

ANGELA: Or injury?

RALPH: Well, there has to be something here we can use against him!

POTSIE: You could sing and hope his head breaks open.

LORI BETH: Hey! Why don't you just sing the blues and torment him into submission?

POTSIE: Touche. (beat) Okay, so what do we do now? Try to go out in a orgy of pleasure?

RALPH: Do you want to get us all killed?

RICHIE: You think Smiley will hear us moaning and calling out names?

LORI BETH: I mean, if we had sex, we would be doomed.

RICHIE: (beat) Lori Beth, what the Hell are you talking about?

RALPH: In any scary movie, after two people have sex, they always get offed.

POTSIE: Okay...

ANGELA: Though that's not the only factor. Breast size, for example.

RICHIE: You're right, Angela. Show me your boobs, Lori Beth.

LORI BETH: Guys...

RALPH: Not if Angela doesn't get her hand out of your pants.

RICHIE: Cut it out!

POTSIE: (beat) Is something bothering you, Rich?

RICHIE: I think you've forgotten, this is real life. This is not some moronic teenage slasher flick which operates by certain rules to point of predictability. Having sex or big breasts isn't going to make a damn bit of difference so far as whether we get out of this alive or not.

ANGELA: Rich, L.B, you guys are married meaning you two did do it! Ewww!

LORI BETH: Hey, that does not count!

ANGELA: It does, too!

RICHIE: Didn't you just hear what I said?

POTSIE: If we're doomed to die anyway, we might as well make the most of it.

RALPH: I don't know what you've heard, but it doesn't work all that well in groups. You only have one set of equipment.

RICHIE: Okay, I've had my limit. (begins heading for door) I'll be in the other room if you all decide to become sane again.

INT. LIVING ROOM.

We can still hear POTSIE, ANGELA and RALPH bantering at a reduced volume. In a dark corner, a figure can be seen. A convenient lightning flash reveals that it is SMILEY. RICHIE's eyes widen suddenly.

SMILEY: (singsong, second word especially drawn out) I'm back!

CUT TO: BEDROOM.

ANGELA: What about that scene in The Blair Witch Project where they hear this child's voice calling out and run after it?

RALPH: What about it?

ANGELA: There was a scene like that in Friday the 13th. Even at its best, the genre borrows heavily from itself.

POTSIE: Stuff like that goes back to ancient legends. I don't think you can outright claim they took it from a previous movie.

RICHIE screaming and a gunshot can be heard from the other room.

RALPH and POTSIE: Rich! (exiting quickly)

ANGELA: (following) Damn!

CUT TO: LIVING ROOM.

The gang enter to find RICHIE lying unconscious on the floor, splattered in blood. Standing over him is SMILEY holding a gun. ANGELA screams hysterically.

SMILEY: Capture, check and mate.

RALPH: Damn you!

POTSIE: Go to Hell!

SMILEY: Take another step and I'll shoot you down right where you stand.

ANGELA: Why are you doing this to us?

SMILEY: Because of what you did to me.

With his/her free hand, SMILEY pulls off the mask, which is discarded revealing he/she is really JOANIE, a headset mounted beneath the mask.

JOANIE: (voice still being modified by the headset) Bit of a shocker; ain't it?

LORI BETH: But you were with Rich when--

JOANIE: (removing headset and coat, revealing a bullet-proof vest) Nice little diversion, wasn't it? I'm off the hook because I can't be in two places at once.

RALPH: Then how...

His voice trails off as a figure steps out of the shadows. Stepping into the light, it is obviously TODD.

JOANIE: Wasn't it nice of Todd to escape for me?

TODD: Hey, gnag. Okay, Joanie, it's my turn. You remember the deal: you get to kill one, I get to kill the other three.

JOANIE: Hmmm! (beat) No. (shoots TODD between the eyes)

RALPH, LORI BETH and POTSIE jump as TODD's corpse drops to the floor. ANGELA screams.

JOANIE: That's for stabbing me too deeply, you moron. (to RALPH, POTSIE, LORI BETH and ANGELA) Poor Todd. He's great in bed but a total idiot. And once I've disposed of you guys, he'll be so useful. He tries to kill you, there's a struggle and you all die.

POTSIE: You're psychotic.

JOANIE: (slipping off the remainder of the costume) I like that term. It has a trendy ring to it.

ANGELA: Don't kill me, please! I was always on your side!

JOANIE: You were always on your own side. (beat) Okay, kids, class is over. Time to go outside and play. (gesturing) After you.

RALPH: But why did you kill all those people? What did they do to deserve this?

JOANIE: You know what a compulsive perfectionist I am. Once I adopted the paradigm from Psycho as a basis for my revenge, I had to act it out completely. And that meant wasting all those worthless people.

POTSIE: You wasted all that effort for the same reason your socks always match your T-shirt?

JOANIE: Okay, I was dealing with my own depressive feelings. After all, what is a murderer but an extroverted suicide?

POTSIE: You're quoting Monty Python!

RALPH: Don't you have a single original thought of your own?

JOANIE: Yes; I hate your outfit. I'm tired of talking about motivations. Everyone outside, now!

CUT TO: EXT. CABIN.

As the storm rages around them, JOANIE has POTSIE, RALPH, LORI BETH and ANGELA lined up against the side of the house. ANGELA sobs continuously.

JOANIE: Let's see... A standard execution would have you facing away from the shooter, but seeing your attacker would be more in line with the modus operandi of a serial killer. Plus it would make it easier for one of you to rush Todd in a vain effort to save your lives so I think I'll go with the latter idea.

RALPH: Will you get it over with? You're going to bore me to death at this rate.

JOANIE: True enough. See you in Hell!

RICHIE: (charging into the scene) Guess again, Joanie!

RICHIE knocks JOANIE off her feet, sending the gun flying. RICHIE is quickly knocked back by JOANIE who is then charged by FONZIE. JOANIE knocks both of them over crying out in pain. She pulls a knife out, slashes ANGELA's shoulder and is about to use it on RICHIE when suddenly a shot rings out and JOANIE jolts. Standing there, it can be seen she's been shot in the shoulder. She touches the wound and looks at the blood on her fingers before flopping to the ground, apparently dead. POTSIE can be seen holding the gun looking as shocked as everyone else.

JOANIE: (weakly) Help me.

Dazed, POTSIE drops the gun. RICHIE runs up and hugs him.

ANGELA: (screaming and crying) The bitch cut me! Can you believe that?

RALPH: It's a flesh wound for Pete's sake, Angela.

RICHIE: Wow. The Attention-Whore is dead.

FONZIE: She was a lousy lay anyhow.

RALPH: Are you alright?

RICHIE: (holding up his harmonica which has a bullet embedded in it) I told you this thing did me some good.

LORI BETH approaches.

LORI BETH: (hugging RICHIE) Nice to see you alive again, Sizzle Lips.

RICHIE: Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Let's get the Hell inside before things get worse.

ANGELA: (very nervous) Uh, guys, where's Joanie's body?

All turn to see JOANIE is not where she was left.

RALPH: Damn it! Where is she?

POTSIE: You shot her but she's not there.

RICHIE: This can't be good. Let's get inside.

They quickly head back for the house. As they turn the corner, an enraged JOANIE pops out, her hair disheveled and going in all directions, brandishing a knife. Yelling, she runs towards them, stabbing FONZIE in the chest, causing him to cry out in pain.

FONZIE: Whoa!

FONZIE knocks down JOANIE as ANGELA, hysterical, tries hiding under a bush. FONZIE drops to the ground. RICHIE charges forward. JOANIE swipes at RICHIE, who dodges but ends up tumbling on the ground. LORI BETH tries to do a flying kick but ends up slipping and merely knocks JOANIE over, sending the knife flying.

RALPH: (to ANGELA) Get him out of here!

ANGELA begins dragging FONZIE into the cabin.

JOANIE: (popping up, pulling the gun on LORI BETH) Now you're gonna get it!

RICHIE: (diving towards JOANIE) Think again!

RICHIE knocks JOANIE over, the gun flying into the bushes. JOANIE rolls, grabs the knife and runs off, getting lost in the poor visibility very quickly.

RALPH: (getting up) Damn it! Which way did she go!

RICHIE, POTSIE and RALPH start moving and quickly are separated. RALPH looks unsteady running over the mud. A gunshot is heard. As RALPH turns the corner, JOANIE pops out and stabs him in the shoulder. RALPH falls to the ground, the knife still embedded.

RALPH: Argh! God damn it!

JOANIE: Give me my knife back!

RALPH: Then pull it out!

RALPH tries but the knife doesn't budge.

JOANIE: It's stuck! Hold on!

JOANIE grabs the knife with both hands and pushes on RALPH's other shoulder with her foot. She pulls and the knife comes out flying backwards as JOANIE ends up falling on her butt again.

RALPH: That hurt!

JOANIE: (getting up) So will this. (pulls out a second gun) I shot at Rich a moment ago. Glad I remembered to carry a spare. There's no one left to save your sorry butt now. Say your prayers, Ralph.

RALPH: You've forgotten one thing, Joanie.

JOANIE: And what's that?

POTSIE: (from behind JOANIE) I've got a gun too.

POTSIE charges into the scene and tumbles with JOANIE, her gun going flying. JOANIE disentangles herself from POTSIE and pops up. They exchange blows, POTSIE getting knocked over. She notices a gun nearby her. JOANIE pulls another knife from her boot.

JOANIE: Thanks for the wrestling but I have others to do that with. Time to die, Potsie.

POTSIE: Guess again, Joanie!

POTSIE grabs his gun and pumps several bullets into JOANIE who drops the knife and staggers under their force. For a moment, she looks dazed, staggering about aimlessly. Reaching the edge of the cliff, she falls off, disappearing into the depths below. For several moments, POTSIE is stunned.

INT. CABIN.

FONZIE is lying on the couch, LORI BETH, FONZIE and ANGELA crouched by him. Enter RALPH and POTSIE running.

POTSIE: Fonz! Are you Okay?

FONZIE: (weakly) I'm sorry, Guys. (sticks his thumb up) Heeeeyyy.

RALPH: Please, Fonz! Don't die on us! (holds his hand)

FONZIE: I can't. I only wish your kids'll be happy.

FONZIE closes his eyes and breathes no more. RICHIE wails in anguish as RALPH, POTSIE, LORI BETH and ANGELA embrace him.

EXT. ROOFTOP--NIGHT.

There is a pool on the roof and RALPH is using, lounging at the edge and drinking a soda. POTSIE enters.

RALPH: I see you got my note.

POTSIE: Hard to miss something on fluorescent yellow paper in black marker stuck at eye level.

RALPH: See, all that art education paid off.

POTSIE: I never knew we had a pool up here.

RALPH: You find all kinds of wonderful things when you just open yourself to the possibilities. Something to drink?

POTSIE: (sitting down at the edge of the pool, takes a glass) Thanks. So, was this a purely social request?

RALPH: Partly. You've been kind of distant lately.

POTSIE: I'm still mourning a bit. Joanie took out too many good people. Too many bad ones also. (beat) Is it my imagination or do those girls who lives across the hall from Rich and L.B lived like us?

RALPH: Wicky wacky woo.

RALPH stares intensely at POTSIE for a moment, then suddenly pulls her into the water. For a moment, it looks like RALPH is trying to drown POTSIE but soon it is apparent they are merely playing, bursting out laughing. The view pans over to the ice bucket near the side of the pool which in addition to the expected ice and bottle of soda also contains an ice pick.

RICHIE: (voice only) The world is filled with evil. Like mass and electric charge, evil is a fundamental characteristic of the natural world and the human soul. No matter how much we try to bottle it up, shove it aside or transform it into something better, it always springs up again, time and time again, in one form or another. My mom and dad tried to beat the evil within her out of existence but all they did was force it lower and lower until one day, it rose up again even stronger and deadlier than before, killing over thirty people and wounding about a dozen before she went missing herself. Is there some way to curb evil? Can we keep such a tragedy from happening again? No one knows the answer to these questions. But one thing we do know is that the evil will always remain with us.

INT. RICHIE AND LORI BETH'S APARTMENT--NIGHT.

A battered RICHIE sits at a desk in the sitting room speaking into a palmtop computer. LORI BETH enters.

LORI BETH: Rich, are you still here?

RICHIE: Just finishing up my report.

LORI BETH: You look like crap. Finish up, stop getting yourself beaten up all the time and come to bed. (beat) I need a drink. (exits)

RICHIE is about to return to his work when he hears an indistinct noise. He gets up to investigate it.

RICHIE: Hello? Who's there?

He glances around but fails to see anyone. He does not notice SMILEY sneaking up behind him but he kicks his butt and throws him out the window.

CLOSING CREDITS.

[Dr. Thong]

Is this supposed to be some Quentin Tarantinoesque version of Happy Days? The characters don't act or sound like they did in the show. Perhaps this was your intention. I didn't read your first script, so it's hard to know what kind of a theme you're pursuing with these spec scripts.

[Race's Girl]

Originally Posted by Dr. Thong

Is this supposed to be some Quentin Tarantinoesque version of Happy Days? The characters don't act or sound like they did in the show. Perhaps this was your intention. I didn't read your first script, so it's hard to know what kind of a theme you're pursuing with these spec scripts.

Yes, Doc, it is a Quentin Tarantinoesque version of Happy Days and don't worry about not reading my first script, I forgive you.