FADE IN:
EXT. LATTIMER MOTORS – SPRINGVILLE – EARLY MORNING
A low, eerie hum of "Destination Unknown" by Missing Persons plays over the opening shot. The camera lingers on what’s left of Lattimer Motors. The once-bustling car lot is nothing more than a patch of scorched pavement, the charred imprint of a fire still visible, blackened streaks etched into the concrete like scars. No inventory. No life. Just a hollowed-out shell of a business that once was.
"Life is so strange, when you don't know… how can you tell where you're going to?"
The camera drifts away, taking a slow, ghostly tour through Springville.
• The empty Chuckles’ Office its door locked, blinds drawn. We don’t go in. There’s nothing to see there anymore.
• A gas station on the outskirts, the neon sign flickering, casting half-hearted light on an otherwise empty street.
• A strip mall, where a few people shuffle into their daily routine, oblivious to the story that’s unfolding just beneath the surface.
The camera finally arrives at S-Mart. The store is still damaged but in the process of being repaired. Scaffolding and boarded-up windows show the effort to rebuild. A sign in the window reads:
"Reopening Soon”
But even with its doors shut, S-Mart looms over the town like a relic of a past that refuses to die.
"You can't be sure... of any situation… something could change, and then you won’t know…"
EXT. MINDY’S BACKYARD
– LATER THAT MORNING
A cigarette burns low between LAURA’s fingers as she sits on the back porch, staring at the sky as if it might offer answers. A small ashtray is balanced on the armrest beside her, filled with evidence that this isn’t her first one. MINDY sits next to her, cup of coffee in hand.
We enter mid-conversation.
MINDY
(shaking her head, voice firm) You don’t have to worry about that, Laura. You know I’ve got you.
LAURA
(exhales smoke, bitter chuckle) I can’t believe what that snake did to me.
MINDY
(rolling her eyes) Chris?
LAURA
(shakes her head) I don’t know anything. Just that S-Mart got hit, that Montgomery kid’s dead... and Chris? Chris is just gone.
Mindy’s face tightens slightly. She’s not convinced.
MINDY
(dryly) Yeah, well, does it really matter anymore? The accounts are drained, you’ve got what? A month, maybe two before the bank starts breathing down your neck?
LAURA
(softly, nodding) Myparents can help, but they’re not rich. I’m gonna lose the house.
She takes another drag of her cigarette, letting the weight of that reality settle in.
MINDY
(gently but firmly) Then it’s time for you to get back on your feet.
Laura exhales, watching the smoke curl into the sky. She knows Mindy’s right.
EXT. MONTGOMERY ESTATE – FUNERAL – DAY
A large, stately cemetery on the grounds of the Montgomery Estate. Everything about the service exudes wealth and prestige. The floral arrangements are extravagant, the caskets polished to an unnatural shine. You can smell the money in the air. But none of it matters now.
BARBARA MONTGOMERY is inconsolable. Draped in black, she sobs openly, held up by family members who look just as hollow but far less emotional. RICHARD MONTGOMERY stands rigid, jaw tight. There’s grief there, but something else too
The gears are turning in his head.
Detective MARCUS and Officer HERNANDEZ stand at a respectful distance. They watch, waiting for an opening, knowing their presence isn’t welcome. Richard notices them almost immediately. His expression hardens.
He approaches them, keeping his voice low and controlled.
RICHARD
(hushed, furious) What the hell are you doing here?
DETECTIVE MARCUS
(calmly, measured) Mr. Montgomery, your son was murdered. We’re investigating.
RICHARD
(mocking, bitter) Investigating? This wasn’t some mystery. You saw the footage. He was killed by animals. And now you’re here what? Looking for one of them in the pews?
OFFICER HERNANDEZ
(firmly) Some perpetrators like to attend their victims' funerals. It’s not unheard of.
Richard’s lip curls in disdain.
RICHARD
(low, seething) You’re vultures. Preying on tragedy. Pretending you can fix what’s already broken.
DETECTIVE MARCUS
(genuine) We’re trying to help.
Richard studies them for a long moment. Then he exhales, shaking his head.
RICHARD
(cold, decisive) I’m the type of man who helps himself.
He turns back toward the casket, leaving Marcus and Hernandez watching in silence.
EXT. SWAMPLAND CABIN – NIGHT
The camera fades in on a cabin in the middle of the swamp. A dim light flickers inside. The distinct clink of bottles, the rustle of a paper bag. Inside, TORCH, RIPPER, and BUZZER are sprawled out in a den of grime, half-empty bottles, and a pile of chocolate donuts and grape soda cans.
BUZZER
(irritated, searching the clutter) Where the hell’s the grape soda? Can’t drink this swill without it.
TORCH
(mocking, sipping whiskey straight) You need a soda with yer whiskey, mate? Bloodyweak, that is.
RIPPER
(chuckles, eating a donut) He’s delicate. Needs his soda like a proper princess.
BUZZER
(grumbling) Shut it. (changing topic) What d’you think the boss wants with Lattimer anyway? Thought we were done with him at the market.
TORCH
(shrugging) Dunno. Damned ol' hard case always plays things close to the vest.
RIPPER
(thoughtful) Gotta say though, the little bloke took a beating better’n most. Didn’t squeal or beg.
BUZZER
(scoffs) He's a little runt pretending he's big-time. Trust me, lads, the boss’ll squeeze him for info, then he’s mine.
TORCH
(teasing) Jealous, Buzzer?
BUZZER
(coldly) Jealous? Nah. Just gonna enjoy guttin’ that smug little weasel.
The camera slowlypans down, beneath the wooden floorboards, revealing a staircase leading deep underground...
INT. UNDERGROUND STRONGHOLD – NIGHT
Rows of weapons gleam coldly along concrete walls. High-tech computer consoles blink quietly, manned by shadowy operatives working with eerie efficiency. We move smoothly through the dim corridors, ascending a staircase toward an elevated control room.
At the top of the stairs, we find CHRIS LATTIMER, still battered, wrists bound, seated at a table. His expression is defiant but weary.
Opposite him sits ZARTAN calm, composed, eloquent, with piercing eyes and understated menace. He leans back comfortably, studying Chris, almost amused.
ZARTAN
(voice smooth, comforting yet sinister) You intrigue me, Mr. Lattimer. Truly.
Chris remains silent, studying Zartan in return.
ZARTAN (CONT'D)
When Buzzer wanted to return to Springville, he was quite insistent. Wanted your whole family gone. (smiles gently) Emotions often cloud clarity, don’t you agree?
Chris reacts slightly at the mention of his family, but regains his composure quickly.
ZARTAN (CONT'D)
Of course, I didn’t expect your friend, Provost, to be sniffing around mybusiness. You hired him, didn't you? Trying to track down Buzzer...
Chris narrows his eyes, uncertain how much Zartan knows.
CHRIS
I needed answers.
Zartan chuckles softly, shaking his head.
ZARTAN
Answers. Such a quaint notion. Did you get any?
Chris says nothing, maintaining eye contact, revealing nothing.
ZARTAN
I find your silence fascinating. You had every reason to break down, to beg, to plead for mercy. But here you sit, silently staring at me, full of fury and spite.
CHRIS (dryly) What good would begging do?
Zartan smiles approvingly.
ZARTAN
Preciselymy point. You've adapted remarkably well for someone who, frankly, should be dead.
CHRIS
And yet, here I am.
Zartan nods slowly, leaning forward slightly.
ZARTAN
Buzzer is... unsatisfied with that outcome. He’s remarkablypredictable. Angry men often are. Still, he’s loyal. You, however, represent something different. Something more intriguing.
Chris looks at him, wary but interested.
CHRIS
And what's that?
ZARTAN
Potential. Resourcefulness. Drive. Your little investigator, Provost (smiles knowingly) he’s quite connected, you know. Did you really believe he was just some shabby private eye?
Chris narrows his eyes, thoughtful but cautious.
ZARTAN (CONT'D)
No matter. He's irrelevant now. What interests me, Chris, is you. A man willing to risk
everything, driven byspite, pride, and pure... venom. Tell me, Chris, how far does your venom run?
Chris leans forward slightly, his voice measured but intense.
CHRIS
Far enough to get the job done.
Zartan studies him carefully, assessing.
ZARTAN
You intrigue me. I watched you burn down your life, piece by piece. I watched you silence every voice of reason, risking everything to satisfy a petty grudge. (beat)
Impressive.
Chris says nothing, his expression remaining stoic but his eyes smoldering.
ZARTAN (CONT'D)
So tell me, Chris... now that you have nothing left, what exactly can you offer me?
Chris leans in, a slight smirk forming on his lips.
CHRIS
More than you’d expect. More than your lackey Buzzer could ever give you.
Zartan chuckles lightly, amused by Chris’s bravado.
ZARTAN
Buzzer provides certain...services. But he’s limited. (leans in slightly, voice lowering) I'm always interested in ambition, provided it's properly channeled.
Chris meets Zartan’s gaze, unblinking.
CHRIS
I can help you tap into resources far beyond Springville.
Zartan raises an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious.
ZARTAN
Careful, Mr. Lattimer. Big claims require big proof.
Chris leans forward slightly, determined.
CHRIS Montgomery Holdings.
Zartan’s eyes gleam with renewed interest.
ZARTAN
Continue.
Chris pauses, confident he's got Zartan's attention.
CHRIS
You underestimated just how deep the Montgomery money runs. Their holdings run deeper, darker. Much deeper than their son’s trust fund. (beat)
And they’re completely unprepared for someone like you.
Zartan nods slowly, absorbing the information, maintaining his calculating calm.
ZARTAN
And someone like you?
CHRIS
I can get you access. But it’ll be on myterms.
Zartan leans back, his smile widening but eyes colder.
ZARTAN
I admire your spirit, Mr. Lattimer, truly. But remember, you are a guest in myhouse. You’ll deliver, or you’ll find yourself wishing Buzzer had finished you off back at that store.
Chris meets Zartan's gaze, unafraid.
CHRIS
Understood.
Zartan’s smile widens cold, calculating, and satisfied.
EXT. MINDY’S HOUSE – LATE AFTERNOON
We hear the iconic, bassy notes of Yello’s “Oh Yeah” as a bright red convertible glides down the street. Quick, flashy CLOSEUPS
• Hawaiian shirt: loud floral pattern.
• Aviator sunglasses gleaming in the sun.
• Blonde hair slicked back.
• Convertible pulling smoothly up to Mindy’s house.
It’s CHUCKLES, effortlessly cool, stepping out of the car with practiced swagger. He approaches the porch confidently but pauses at the sight of BILLY playing near the front door with a toy car.
BILLY
(smiling, innocently) Nice car!
Chuckles pauses, removing his sunglasses dramatically.
CHUCKLES
Thanks, kid. It’s a classic.
Billy’s expression shifts slightly, curious and wistful.
BILLY
My daddy used to have cars like that at his old work.
Chuckles pauses, the playful facade slipping momentarily, guilt flickering in his eyes.
CHUCKLES
Your dad had good taste.
The front door opens. Mindy appears, eyeing Chuckles suspiciously.
MINDY
Can I help you?
CHUCKLES
(friendly grin) Sure can. I’m looking for Laura Lattimer.
Mindyhesitates, glancing at Billy, who’s still smiling at Chuckles.
MINDY
Inside. Follow me.
INT. MINDY’S KITCHEN – MOMENTS LATER
Laura enters cautiously, visibly guarded. Chuckles removes his sunglasses again, a hint of seriousness creeping in.
LAURA (uneasy) Who are you?
CHUCKLES
Call me Chuckles.
Laura raises an eyebrow skeptically.
CHUCKLES
(serious, quietly) Look, I won’t take much of your time. It’s about your husband. Chris. He and his brother...they tangled with some dangerous people.
Laura tenses instantly.
LAURA
Dangerous people?
CHUCKLES
People who don’t take no for an answer. (beat)
Chris and Dan crossed the wrong folks. Look. I’m just…trying to clear this up. As best I can. You need to understand: Chris is gone.
Laura steadies herself on the counter, visibly shaken.
LAURA
Gone...? You mean...
Chucklesnodssolemnly.
CHUCKLES
You should move forward, Laura. Put all this behind you.
LAURA
But the money... our accounts ?
CHUCKLES
Taken by the same people who hit S-Mart, I’d guess. Let’s just say, Chris hired me to look into it. The deeper we got, the uglier it got. And when it got too ugly, my bosses pulled the plug. (beat)
We all have bosses, right?
Laura looks away, processing this.
CHUCKLES
I’m sorry, Laura. Really.
Laura looks at him, eyes watery but sharp.
LAURA
Who...who are your bosses?
Chuckles gives a gentle, apologetic shrug.
CHUCKLES
Good question. Just know Chris made his own choices. What he did that was his choice.
Laura’s expression darkens, hurt by the reminder.
CHUCKLES
The best thing you can do now is forget Chris Lattimer ever existed. Take care of yourself and your son. (gently) That’s all that matters now.
He puts his sunglasses back on and exits quietly. Laura watches him leave, lost in thought.
EXT. LATTIMER MOTORS – EVENING
The sun hangs low, casting shadows over the remains of the dealership. A car rolls slowly onto the gravel lot. The door opens. A FOOT steps out trench coat, collar raised, hat pulled down.
CHRIS LATTIMER surveys what remains of his former life. He walks slowly, deliberately, through the wreckage.
He pulls out a cell phone, dialing a number. The line connects.
CHRIS
(into phone, coldly) Hello, Richard. It's time we talked.
FADE TO BLACK
END OF EPISODE